#sixteen hundred days???

[187days]

Day One Hundred Sixteen

The one World student I’ve been having trouble connecting with all semester? The one who goes through phases of just not showing up? He was on fire today. He did all of his classwork, and then Ms. A let him work on an overdue project in the back of her classroom because he feels more comfortable there than in mine. She even helped him while her students were working independently (which is above and beyond, and I told him to be sure to thank her). He turned the project in, his grade skyrocketed, everyone is thrilled. 

As Ms. E said, we needed to get a win. He needed it, us teachers needed it.  And here’s hoping we get some more wins in the future!

The lesson today was a wrap-up lesson on our study of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Students had started a set of notes comparing and contrasting Judaism and Christianity, so today I had them use their class materials to add Islam to that comparison. My Block 2 students struggled, my Block 3 students breezed through it, and that’s becoming the trend with these two sections. That meant that my Block 2 students had less time to do the second assignment of the day, which was all about how those three religions impact other aspects of culture like food, clothing, architecture, literature, etiquette, and so on. They still did it, but we didn’t have time to discuss it, so we’ll do that next class. My Block 3 students will move right on to what’s next. 

My GOV students spent their time putting together presentations about SCOTUS cases: researching info, citing it, formatting it on whatever presentation program they’re using (some Slides, some Prezi, some Canva). There were, however, breaks to discuss college applications and the pain in the neck that is FAFSA, to write haikus about hamsters, and other random things. That’s fine with me, though; these students know when the due date is, and they now how to use their time efficiently enough to meet said due date even if they take breaks. I actually think it’s better to take breaks than to try to grind through something for an entire block. 

Also, haikus about hamsters are excellent. I even put my own on the board.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

yo what the fuck lmfao not the tiny little actor kid playing eddie in the it movies voicing alberto a la luca. zero recognition like kind of could deepfake it in my head litchrelly i mean like those actor children being quite small & then even recording something a few years later like alright yeah voice just dropped a ways already but i definitely had to stare intently at the [looking that up] textual confirmation. absolutely zero resonance at the time a whole like month ago lol go figure. congrats on the bisexuality too he/they king

[merchelsea]

Could you write something really fluffy about Lando Norris x reader? Maybe something were their relationship is fairly new and it’s only like the 2nd or 3rd race week the reader has been to and she starts to get sick. She doesn’t feel well at all and try’s to hide it from lando so he can focus on the race but he eventually finds out and is all worried and cuteee

worried sick — lando norris

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

summary: it’s her first time attending a grand prix and also flying and she doesn’t want anything to ruin her boyfriend’s race, but she gets sick in the process.

author’s note: sorry for taking so long to get to the heart of your request (fluff) but i needed to give context to his worriess

word count: 3k

warnings: curse words

masterlist | requests (open)

you sat on the dinner table, unable to speak. the fork fell from your hand the moment you heard lando's proposal and your eyes followed it's trail.

lando genuinely thought this would be a good idea, but seeing your reaction, with his eyebrows lifted, he may have changed his mind.

you had been dating for quite some time, four months and sixteen days, to be precise, but you were still a little aprehensive about the attention.

from the start, he warned you and gave you an easy way out of his life, but your love overpowered your fears.

even in a relationship, you and lando did everything you could to keep you out of the public eye, and it was working. no one knew about you and him and you liked that. but you were aware that he wanted you by his side while facing the adventures that his job provided him, and that he didn't want to keep you as a secret forever.

so when he made the invitation, it didn't surprise you, but you had to think about it.

you looked at him, he was wearing some jeans and a white hoodie that made him adorable in your eyes. he was looking at you, and you could notice him telling you it was okay to say no with his look.

but there was still a glimpse of hope in his beautiful green eyes, and in your mind you took another look at the pros and cons.

you could scratch out a couple of cons... like the fact that you liked being private. it was true, but you didn't mind not being a secret, and you would never like the idea of having famous and stunning women thinking that your boyfriend was available.

so with a soft look, in that modernly decorated dinning room in his home, you nodded your head.

"i think we could go to china together, yeah." he gave you a confused glance, but refrained from questioning you, afraid you would change your mind.

"great!" he stood up and walked over to you, "i love you," he whispered, pecking your lips before taking his empty plate to the sink.

you watched him come back and sit with you while you finished your own plate. you couldn't say you were hungry anymore, a hundred and one scenarios of what could go wrong in the hard launch of your relationship played in your mind.

lando's presence made it a little easier for you, though. you could only be thankful.

you had never traveled by plane before, so you were pretty nervous.

china was really far from monaco, and your boyfriend told you that the flight would take 11 hours minimum, so you couldn't help feeling anxious.

he held your hand when he noticed your strange behaviour and you immediately intertwined your fingers together.

"it's going to be okay, love." norris kissed the back of your hand and you walked inside of the plane, hand in hand.

of course lando booked the first class seats. he knew about this fear of yours, so whatever he could do to help you out, he would.

you sat down and lando closed the little blind on the window by his side, so you didn't see how far from the ground you were.

you had your headphones on and lando held you close as the plane started moving. you were still not off the ground but the plane shaking scared the fuck out of you. you closed your eyes and tried to focus on the music. it wasn't easy. it was only when the plain stabilized in the air that you could open your eyes again.

"do you want water, food, anything?" your boyfriend asked as he noticed you were a little more calm now.

"water, maybe." you answered, still not feeling completely safe. "and can you open the blind please, i want to see."

"'you sure?" he asked, his hand already on the end of the blind.

"yup."

lando opened up the blind and you peeked through the window. you were already far from the ground and instead of feeling anxiety, that view actually made you a little more calm.

"it's beautiful." you whispered, body leaning towards lando so you could see it better.

the british boy's eyes were on you when he whispered back. "it really is." with a smile.

eventually you sat properly in your seat again and talked to lando as time passed.

you fell asleep with and lando carefully laid your chair back, took out your headphones and covered you with a blanket. he laid his chair back as well and watched you as you slept peacefully. you still had nine hours left and he knew you would be awake for the landing, which he didn't want.

you could only manage to sleep for 2 hours and when you woke up, you noticed your boyfriend sleeping. so the next hours were spent playing games in your mobile phone while you listened to taylor swift.

it wasn't as painful as you thought it would be, and it was only when landing that you felt the uneasy feeling come back. lando held you close through it, as he was used to it.

"it's okay, baby." he whispered. "i'm right here." his reassurence meant more to you than he imagined, and it helped as well.

everything went better than expected and you left the airport hand in hand just half an hour after getting out of the plane.

you felt tired, but it was still morning in china. lando seemed okay, he was already used to all the time changes, since he did this for a living.

"what d'you think about breakfast?" he asked as you passed a coffee shop.

lando was driving to the hotel you two would be staying in, and you honestly just wanted to rest. but you could'nt say no to a good breakfast.

"oh, great idea. i'm starving." you said and he chuckled.

"me too." he stated as his hand found place in your thigh. it stayed there until he needed to use it, to change gear.

he parked the car in front of the cute shop and you both walked in.

you both ordered and sat down talking to eachother until the food came. the driver explained the goods and the bads of the race here. and told you what he liked most about china.

you had done some research about the place yourself because you wanted to take profit of your time here.

as lando would probably have some meetings with the team and you would be alone, you decided to visit some interesting places of the city and even near cities.

you ate in a comfortable silence and left for the hotel as soon as you could. his team took care of the check in so you and him were able to just go straight to your room.

you felt yourself a little too soft, but never said anything because you didn't think it was anything serious and worrying him was something you were not going to do.

deciding to take a nap before doing anything, lando wrapped his arms around you and pulled the blanket over your bodies.

"i love the feeling of having you here." he murmured to your ear.

"i love being here with you." you told him honestly, falling asleep some moments later.

lando though it was weird, since you normally took some time to get to sleep, specially in new places.

when you first stayed the night at his place it took you two hours and a really boring movie.

he remembered it could've been caused by the flight or the time difference. the british was now used to it, but it was your first time, and it was a long flight.

he fell asleep thinking about it because, being honest, you were both more than exhausted.

you woke up just a couple of hours later, coughing, and imediately realized you had gotten sick, and were just in the first stages. you got up from the bed and went to the bathroom so you didn't disturb lando's sleep.

"this can't be happening" you whispered to your reflection in the mirror.

'it can be just a cold, everything will be okay in time for the race' you thought to yourself, trying to calm down.

it was frustrating, to be fair. you had been avoiding coming to his races for months, and when you finally decided to come you got sick.

however, you did not want that to get in the way of lando's weekend, so through the next two days, in which your boyfriend had free practices and qualifying, you pretended to be okay. it was not so easy because norris made every effort to make you feel okay there. that means he talked to every one of his mates and asked them to talk to their own girlfriends, to see if they were interested in meeting you, for his delight but not so yours, they all said yes.

so you were not only busy with pretending to be healthy but also trying to be nice to everyone and making people like you.

it wasn't that hard, you all just found something in common, that was your love for fashion and animals, and talked about it. you were pretty satisfied with the outcome of saturday, and so was lando, managing to get himself on fourth position, with two cars ahead he knew he could get out of his way.

he was starting to find your behaviour a little weird, as soon as you got home you took a really quick shower and got yourself comfortable in bed. he asked you if you were not going to get dinner with him and you told him you would just take a little nap, and asked him to wake you up once the food arrived.

the brit did as you said and tried to wake you up, but you told him you were not hungry in the moment. he made you eat anyways, because tomorrow was a big day and you didn't really have the energy to argue with him.

you both had a good dinner and what was his surprise when you got back to your bed and immediately fell asleep.

he tried to push his suspicions away but he was seriously getting worried. he laid next to you and held you close with one arm, the other resting behind his head as he thought. not only about you and your strange sleeping schedule but also about the circuit.

there was this one curve that he just couldn't get right, and he needed to get it tomorrow. or else he'd lose his chance of a podium or even a win.

he would never want to lose a podium, but with you here, the pressure was different. he wanted to do better for you. he needed to, after dragging you all the way to a new country and making you face your fear of planes.

he eventually fell asleep, your body so close to his comforting him and calming his mind that was going probably faster than his car.

you woke up first, in the morning. but, unlike the other two days, where you managed to get it together and pretend you were okay, today you had a huge headache along with an unbearable malaise.

immediately realizing you were not okay, you decided to not go to the track with lando. you were still planing to go, yes, but later on, after you took some medicine and felt better.

he was a little reluctant in letting you all by yourself because something inside him still thought that something was off. sleeping a lot, not feeling hungry, avoiding his touch and kisses (you did that once, but he still took note), it all felt a little weird.

but you convinved him, telling him that he no longer had time to wait for you and you still needed to get dressed and do your makeup.

"i'm going. but message me as soon as you get to the track, please. i want to see your pretty face before getting in the car." he asked you, his beautiful green eyes focused on yours.

you nodded your head and he pecked your lips. smiling, he turned around and left the hotel room. you decided to take a shower to see if it helped in any way.

it didn't.

you grabbed your phone and searched for lando's personal assistant's contact. someone needed to be informed about this, but you didn't want to alarm your boyfriend just before the big moment of the weekend.

he was really sweet to you, and suggested you stayed in bed and watched the race from the hotel. you were a little apprehensive about how lando would feel about this but he tried to calm you down as best as he could, telling you he knew the driver would understand and probably even be more worried than anything else.

he also promised to only tell lando once he couldn't do anything about it. of course you had asked.

was he going to be pissed? probably. did he love you more than anything and would he forget about all the rest in order to check up on you? absolutely.

once he was told about it, the only thing he could do was text you, so he ran to his phone and quickly wrote a message to you.

'baby i was just informed. i'm so sorry for not noticing.'

your heart clenched in your chest as you read his text. it was not his fault and you felt bad for making him believe that it was.

'it's not your fault, lan. and i'm okay'

you added a little heart at the end and sent it, automatically seeing the 'read' under the blue text baloon.

'you sure?? i can get someone to get you to a doctor'

you smiled at the screen, behind that smile was the way he didn't even hesitate to show you he cared and he worried.

'there's no need, i took some medicine and i'm better now. but good luck on the race. i'll be rooting for you.'

on the other side of the screen, lando sighed, he hated that he couldn't do anything about it but knowing you were okay comforted him a little. so he smiled and typed to you.

'thanks babe! i will be coming back to you as soon as i can, promise you.'

you simply liked his message, letting him focus before the race.

on the bed, you watched the entire race, as you always did. and you were so genuinely happy and proud of him for finishing second, that for a couple of minutes you even forgot you were sick.

you watched the podium celebrations and couldn't help but notice that your boyfriend wasn't as happy as he should be. of course he smiled receiving the trophy, and sprayed champagne on the other podium sitters, which were max and checo, but you knew him, and his smile wasn't as wide as usual.

you sat through and watched the interviews on sky sports. it seemed that you were not the only one who noticed his under-excitement, because that was the first thing the journalist questioned.

"so, lando norris. you just came second here in china. first of all, congratulations. second of all i have got to tell you that all of us were expecting a different reaction from you. you don't seem very excited."

he looked at the woman behind the camera atentively, but anyone with functional eyes could see that his mind was elsewhere. he smiled briefly at the end of her statement.

"well, thank you. and yeah, i'm not in the best mood but that has nothing to do with the race. i know i did my best out there and gave everything i could. unfortunately, max was still there, but we'll keep working, as a team, to get to him."

he smiled and the interview continued, as usual he discussed some technical stuff and gave his perspective on some bits of the race.

"right now i just want to go back to the hotel, to my girlfriend, who isn't here because she got sick, and give her all the love she deserves."

he smiled to the camera and left, leaving the space for others. you saw him walking with oscar behind alonso, who was now giving his own interview.

it didn't take long before you got a message from him, telling you he managed to escape some media duties to go back to you.

you smiled to yourself before answering, and then distracted yourself until you heard the door being unlocked.

jumping from the bed, you rushed towards your boyfriend when he arrived.

"easy there, baby." lando pulled you into a hug, one of his hands in your hair while the other circled your body.

"amazing race, my love." you whispered into his neck. he smiled and when his grip loosened, his lips met yours in a quick but lovely kiss.

"you've got me worried sick, you muppet." he smiled, but looking into his green iris you knew he was serious.

"didn't mean to worry you, i'm sorry," he shook his head and softy kissed your temple.

"don't be sorry. but nex time it happens, let me know. i wouldn't have made you go to practices and quali, and you could've rested."

his fingers caressed your hair and he pulled you to lay your head in his chest. you would never know how worried he got, and how he could only rest his mind after having you in his arms.

"i just didn't want you to worry unnecessarily. i thought i could go through it." your eyes made it possible for him to know that you were being honest. he let out a sigh.

"it's not unnecessarily, you stubborn thing. i love you and i care about you, and i wanted to be here for you." you pull your head back and lock eyes with him.

"i love you too. and thank you."

he kissed you again, all smiley.

you both decided to just lay in bed and do nothing for the rest of the day. you ordered dinner hours earlier, so you didn't have to worry about it later.

lando told you all about his race. from the lights out to the checkered flag he talked you through his decisions and his process of thinking in the moment.

he also kept asking you from time to time how you were feeling and if you needed anything.

you realized just how much you loved him and appreciated the way he cared for you.

once he fell asleep, you smiled out of pure happiness for having him by your side. no matter how much you had liked being kept a secret for a while, in that moment all you wanted was for people to know you loved him.

cause you did, more than you thought you could.

© merchelsea

if you'd like to be tagged in any of my future works, let me know ;)

[prozach27]

.

[writersdrug]

My brain is open to your bartender Ghost thoughts

Give me them all 🙏

Lordy this au isn't even an hour old and I have so many thoughts

He doesn't really know what to expect when you come in the morning after the interview. At eight am sharp, he watches as you trudge inside, wearing ripped tights, shorts, knock off combat boots, and a baggy shirt that's messily tucked into your waistline. It looks like you had put on eye liner last night and gone to bed, black lines smudged in a perfect "bedhead" look.

"Really?" He asks, arms folded and muscles buddging. "Come t' the interview in a skirt 'n dress shirt, n' show up t' the first shift lookin' like a wannabe biker chick?"

You scoff, pulling your hair up into a bun. "Didn't realize I'd be walking into the asscrack of "The Devil Wears Prada"..."

He huffs and shakes his head. You hve tough skin - good.

He had Soap come in early that day - poor man usually worked between 4 pm 'til whenever Ghost decided to close. He's still rubbing his eyes and yawning when a pen and spiral notepad are shoved into your hands, Simon pushing you towards towards the cook's table with a hand on your back.

"Hey, welcome to the 141." You say, no attempt at politeness in your tone. Ghost huffs fondly, appreciating how you cut through the bullshit. "Any appetizers today?"

"None o' that keech," Soap says, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching his brow. "Canna have a rusty nail 'n th' smash grunded, wel doon 'n with the bun scud - cannae stand th' aoli. Chips oan the side."

You stare at him, eyes wide in disbelief, before turning to Ghost. "Do they all sound like that?"

He grunts. "If they're drunk."

"Are you drunk?" You ask Soap.

"Feck if I know, tryin' tae figure it oot myself." He groans.

Ghost helps you decipher the words Soap had vomited out. You successfully punch it into the POS, only needing a few pointers from the giant over your shoulder. For the rest of the morning amd afternoon, he taeaches you which button on the soda gun was which, the difference between tonic water and club soda, how to run the industrial sanitizer - with a "ye best make sure that shite is rinsed 'fore ye stick em in there" from Soap - where the new kegs go when Gaz brings them in, where to find napkins and condiments in the walkin, how to cut fruit for the bar, and lastly, how to split your tips.

"But why do I have to pay you?" You ask Ghost, sitting at a table with your calculator app on your phone and a basket of fries between the two of you. "You make loads of tips just pouring liquor."

He chuckles, watching you pop a fry into your mouth. "'N you get a cut of sales from the kitchen, since you're part of it."

You perk up at that. "I do?"

"Seven percent." He confirms. "A decent payout on weekends."

"And Soap doesn't get tips."

"Johnny boy gets paid by th' hour."

"I don't?"

"If ya do well enough, ya won't have to." He says, resting his meaty forearms on the table. "You'll be walkin' out with hundreds."

You chew your lip nervously; Simon's eyes linger on the movement, shifting his weight - the polyester seat creaks beneath him as he observes you fretting silently, the silence only broken by the sound of Soap prepping in the kitchen. "Don' worry too much 'bout it. You're young - jus' keep a smile on 'n you'll be fine. Soap 'n I got your back tonight, but I'm not pickin' up your slack after the week passes."

The fry you're steering towards your mouth falls to the table as Simon stands up. "Tonight?!" You exclaim, shimmying out of the booth.

"Yep. Sixteen hundred."

You glance at your phone. "That's in an hour!" There are kegs stacked by the front door, unpolished and enrolled silverware on the bar top, and half of the chairs are still stacked on the countertops.

"Best get to work then, hmm?" Ghost says, grabbing a container of lemons and moving behind the bar.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCXDP FIC IDEA: The Dauntless Matchmaker

Danny Fenton is short on cash. He has been short on cash almost all his adult life, but usually, he can pull through untill the last minute before breaking and asking his family for help.

It's a pain in a half trying to find a job that is flexible enough to accommodate his "Health" issues.

He needs time off to keep his agreement. See back when he was sixteen, he realized that the ghosts that had been bothering him were all trying to challenge him for his power.

At first he looked like easy prey- being new and all- but the more fights he won the more his reputation rose and that made the ghosts attack less frequently.

They just became harder since the big guns wanted a crack at him. Danny proposed that the fights be in neutral grounds- the ghost zone- since fights in Amity Park were ruining his haunt.

Haunt Rights were highly protected and respected in the Infinite Releams.

His adversaries agreed under the condition that Danny responded to the battles within two hours; otherwise, they would haunt him in the human world.

Ghost fighting in the Infinite Releams to keep the ghosts busy, and nowadays, only the strongest bothered him like a bi-weekly challenge from dead beings that don't understand scheduling.

It worked out.....until he couldn't explain why he was missing so often in the human world. With the help of some friendly ghosts, he was able to fake a diagnosis of some muscle disorder and has been living with the excuse that he would go MIA because of it. He missed a lot.

Often enough to have almost every job he's gotten to fire him.

This brings him to his current problem. Yes, Danny can argue that he has a disability but to do so would mean having someone look into it and realize it's not real.

So when Charlie from the Tea MadHouse tells him not to bother returning tomorrow after a four-day-long battle, he can only sigh and turn in his tea maker apron.

He might have to call his parents to ask for help on this month's rent. That's a bitter pill to swallow.

If only there was a job that he could do that had no problem with him taking multiple days off without notice.

"Pardon me. I need a moment of your time." a voice calls out. Danny twists around, turning his neck slightly downwards to meet the green-eyed stare of a young boy.

"I have a proposition for you. My elder brother requires a fake lover to fool our family butler into thinking that he has moved on from the heartbreak of his last disastrous relationship. Not that anyone could blame Dowd for ending things with Drake. In any case, seeing as I have witnessed your unemployment, I figured you would do well for the job."

Danny blinks "I'm sorry?"

The kid pulls out a wad of cash. Danny can practically hear the ca-ching sound surrounding the boy as he raises a brow.

He gapes as the youth slaps the cash into his hand without so much as a blink.

"Do we have an accord?" The boy asks while Danny slowly turns the money in his hand.

"Whatever you say, temporary in-law," He says after flipping through the bills only to realize it's a hundred-dollars. A quick count of how many he's been handed causes his eyes to almost pop out of thier socket.

It's more then enough for this month's rent-hell he has some left over for at least four months!

"Excellent, we are expected at dinner. If Drake acts surprised to see you merely tap the table six times, then four. He shall fall into line and build off our lie."

Danny scrambles after the kid, nodding to himself. "Six, then four. Got it. Ugh, does the dinner have a dress code?"

It sounds like it would since a young boy just gave out hundreds like it was nothing. Danny would feel bad showing up in an old pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt.

Maybe he has a formal shirt somewhere.

The boy's green eyes flickered to him, then his watch on his wrist. "An impressive observation. Pennyworth will not be impressed by a poorly dressed paramour. We have time to purchase a suit. Come along."

Danny has no idea how someone so small can walk so fast. He feels his breathing is coming in quick bursts, but the boy doesn't seem winded at all. He winces when the boy enters a well-known suit place that is very pricey. "Is this coming out of my pay?"

"No. This shall be covered by the company card," The strange child says, holding up a black card with a quick flick of his wrist. At the sight of it, two store attendants appear at their side, offering assistance. Danny has never seen such power.

"W-wait we have a company card?" He shutters, overwhelmed by the attendant pushing him into a changing room and a light blue suit in his arms.

"Yes. However, you have a limit on what can be spent with it. I shall review the details later regarding your medical, dental, and vision benefits."

"I GET DENTAL?!"

"Of course. America's ridiculous health programs will mistreat no employee of mine simply due to lack of funds. " The boy scoffed, sounding offended by the very idea.

Danny doesn't care how long he needs to pretend to be this boy's boyfriend, and he'll sign a contract right now.

_______________________________________

Damian waited for Fenton to finish trying on all the suits the personal sellers had pushed onto him. He personally thinks the light blue was the best but it doesn't hurt to try other options.

They need Fenton to look his best to woo Drake and get him to stop acting so pathetic.

Yes, Dowd had broken up with him for reasons Damian is unaware of, nor does he care enough to find them, but Drake has had plenty of people break up with him before and remain on good terms with him.

Just look at Brown.

Drake had also always bounced right back after the breakup, usually because he would get tied up in either work at Wayne Industries or Red Robin.

Yet, for some reason, unlike all the others, Dowd leaving has not only been messy it also threw Drake into a downwards spiral.

He has refused even to get dress- walking around in a bathrobe and fluffy slippers- eating ice cream and sobbing over photos of Dowd for hours on end. He taken a leave from Wayne Industries and mostly stayed on monitor duty as Red Robin.

At other times, he plays sad songs and watches romance movies with a dead look in his eyes. Usually there were crumbs of some unknown spicy chips all over his face too.

Really it was unseemly.

It's been four months of this, and Drake does not seem to be getting it together. Damian had researched online, and all of the articles indicate that he should have felt better by the third-month mark.

He would have left the fool well alone only Pennyworth is beginning to worry. And Damian refuses to let Pennyworth worry over something fixable.

His research showed that a "rebound" was highly recommended (if done correctly), in the healing process of a breakup. Drake refused to find one, so Damian assigned himself the task of finding one for him instead.

He considered Drake's past lovers' looks, interests, and personalities. Then creating a list of what was considered a good candidate he wandered around Gotham in search of someone who would be a perfect rebound.

His efforts led him to Tea MadHouse- a tea shop with a surprisingly good coffee menu- where Daniel Fenton worked. Over three weeks, Damian had watched him, categorizing the pros and cons that Drake would find within Fenton, and concluded that he would be perfect.

The fact Fenton has lost his job now only worked in his favor. He'll convince Drake that Fenton is a decoy for Pennyworth - since Drake was getting fed up with all the hovering- and he would never notice that the real target of this fake relationship would be Drake himself all along.

Fenton will woo him, sweep him off his feet, make him forget Dowd and ride off into the sunset with Drake none the wiser. It was full-proof.

Damian will make Drake rebound on Fenton, even if he has to throw the idiot at the other teen. He is getting awful tired of the concerned glances whenever Drake slumps his way into a room.

No other reason. He certainly didn't care about Drake that much nor did does he lay awake at night wondering how Drake is doing now that he does not have someone to hold him.

Drake doesn't sleep well alone.

"How do I look?" Fenton stepped out of the booth wearing the light blue suit. It made his eyes pop and framed his body well.

Yes, muscular. The body of a boxer. Drake will lose his mind over those biceps.

"Ravishing." He tells the nineteen-year-old. Damian barely bites back a smirk as Fenton flushed, painting a pretty picture. Drake enjoys talking his lovers up, and Fenton will do well to receive plenty of compliments. "Let us be off."

Drake won't know what hit him.

[wonlovie]

— ALWAYS.

After being broken up with, the cherry on top was receiving an invitation to your ex-boyfriend's wedding, leaving you breaking at the seams. Luckily for you, your childhood best friend is there to keep you together.

— starring. childhood bestfriend!jake x fem!reader ft. the slightest appearance of niki, mentions of ex!heeseung and le sserafim's chaewon (she was the first one i thought of LOL)

— tags. friends-to-lovers, slowburn, minor angst, jake is highkey a thigh guy, road trip!!, the oh-no-there's-only-one-bed trope several times over, smut [fem. masturbation while in the same bed, vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), handjob, very soft-dom!jake, first time, praising, unprotected sex, reader cries, use of petnames (princess, pretty girl, baby; he also calls you a whore/slut like,, twice) kind of but not really fwb situation [MINORS DNI]]

— word count. 14.3k

— notes. this is the first fic i've posted here!! i also started writing this like,, the day i got covid so if some sentences make zero sense it's because i was loopy af lmAOO on another note jake??? sim jake??? writing this wasnt good for my heart bc he was driving me insane the whOLE TIME

SIXTEEN DAYS.

When you got the invitation in the mail, a single piece of cardstock carefully decorated with ornate blue lace and beautifully handwritten script, you had half the mind to ignore it. Throw it in the trash, maybe. If the sender asked, you could feign innocence. It got lost in the mail, and perhaps I never received it at all.

Unfortunately for you, your conscience kicked you swiftly in the ass before you could even step on your trash bin pedal. 

Begrudgingly, you really had no choice but to go. After all, it was your cousin’s wedding—a day you had both raved about since you were young children. You could still recall the silly Pinterest boards you put together, regrettably filled with tacky and outdated decor. Your cousin, Chaewon, even called you before the invitation was sent to your box, her excited voice crawling out of your phone speaker and taunting you with sharp licks against your ear.

You should be happy. Really, you should. Aside from Lemon, your newly adopted Jindo puppy, Chaewon was your favourite. Despite moving across the country for university, you were there for her as she was for you. Not a single day went by without an hour-long phone call between the two of you, filled to the brim with conversation or spent in peaceful silence.

The issue wasn’t Chaewon. No, it was far worse than that. The issue was her husband-to-be, a man you despised with every cell of your being.

Lee Heeseung. In other words, your ex. 

It was jarring for you to see the very man who seemed to date you out of pity, never truly initiating intimacy or even trying to pretend to be interested in the things you’d tell him, be so sweet to Chaewon. You had, unfortunately, witnessed their love firsthand on multiple occasions. The longing glances, the whispered sweet nothings, the subtle caresses when they thought no one was looking. 

You hated how bitter you felt about it. His last words to you felt like they were tattooed onto your eyelids.

“I’m sorry, but… I don’t think we should date anymore. I think I’ve found someone else.”

Of course, you were heartbroken. Heeseung was your first boyfriend and your first love. You had tried so damn hard to be the receiver of his affections, but your efforts always fell short. The next week, Chaewon approached you with tears brimming her eyes, begging for forgiveness; you knew that whatever you had with Heeseung was officially history. 

Chaewon, the angel, denied his advances until you pushed her to say yes, as you knew she wanted to. 

And now, your decision had come full circle, the ugly truth rearing its head at you. Your feelings for Heeseung were long gone, but with the breakup came a hundred insecurities you didn’t know you had, hence the big move. Maybe with space, you could heal.

“Stupid,” you whispered as your eyes scanned the invitation for the nth time in the past ten minutes. You rubbed harshly at your eyes, forcing the tears away. With a shaking finger, you traced the wedding date, briefly glancing up at the dog calendar that hung on the wall next to your fridge. 

Gingerly dropping the invitation onto the kitchen counter, you quietly counted the days left. The wedding was just over two weeks away, a beautiful August wedding. You don’t know how long you stood there, goosebumps prickling on your thighs as the morning air brushed against them. Your oversized tee did little to combat the cold.

A quiet knocking at the door made you jump. Swearing under your breath, you swiped at your cheeks to rid any evidence of tears. You shuffled to the front door and peeked through the peephole. A man stood there, hands in his jeans pockets, as he waited for you to answer. However, his head was down, which blocked his face from view.

When you didn’t answer right away, he knocked again just as gently as he had before. This time, though, he called out your name. 

Startled, you paused with your hands pressed against the door, eyes still pressed against the peephole. You knew that voice, instantly recognizing the accent that spilled into his words. Pulling the door open, your suspicions were correct when you were met with your childhood best friend, Jake.

A wide grin pulled at the corners of your lips as you looked the man up and down. “Holy shit,” you started, laughter in your voice. “What are you doing here?” Stepping back to let him in, you eyed his wide shoulders as he bent over to untie his shoes. “You never said you were coming to visit.”

Jake lazily smiled up at you as he tugged off the last shoe. His eyes drifted down for a second, catching sight of your bare legs. Not a moment later, he averted them. “Damn, hello to you too, sweets.” When he stood to his full height, he leaned into a comfortable slouch, shoving his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “Chaewon didn’t tell you?” He tilted his head at you in question.

Shaking your head no, you headed to the kitchen where you left your phone. Finding your chatroom with Chaewon, you scanned the contents quickly. “Look—”

You turned to show Jake your previous texts, but as you swivelled on your heel, you hadn’t expected him to be so close. You jumped slightly, the small of your back pressing into the cool countertop as Jake hovered over you, seemingly inches away. You could practically count his every lash from your angle, not missing how his eyes scanned your face.

Apparently, he didn’t expect to be so close either, as the tips of his ears reddened. “My bad,” as he moved to give you space. He pushed back his hair—when had he dyed it blonde?— to see your screen better. Reading quickly, he snorted at Chaewon’s lack of warning for his arrival, her last message simply being: ;).

“I thought you knew I’d be coming, so I didn’t bother sending a text,” he explained. “Chae wants me to be your escort to the wedding.”

“My what?”

Jake grinned at you, flashing his pearly whites. “Y’know, your stead. Your chauffeur. Your knight in shining armour, if you will.”

“Those aren’t the same in the slightest, Jake.”

“You get what I mean, sweets.” 

You hummed, resting your palms atop the counter by your sides. “Why so early, though? The wedding isn’t for a couple of weeks.” He opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp yip from your bedroom interrupted him. You practically watched as elation flooded his senses when he spun on the spot, searching for the sound source.

Pushing yourself off the counter, you lightly bumped his shoulder with your own as you manoeuvred around him. “Looks like someone’s awake,” you sang as you headed down the hall. You could hear Jake’s heavier, sock-clad footsteps following you into your bedroom as you called out for Lemon.

The little pup bounded toward you, jumping from your bed with a tail that wagged so fast you were concerned she’d sprain it. With her tongue out, she hopped on her hind legs, unsure of whether she should greet you or Jake first. “Lemon, this is Jake,” you introduced as you picked her up. Gently moving her paw in a waving motion, you smiled at him. “Jake, this is the love of my life, Lemon.”

He sent you a teasing smile, “I thought that was my title.” You flushed at the unexpected remark. Before you could respond, he turned to Lemon with a soft expression. “Hi, Lemon. Hope you’re taking good care of sweets for me.” Cooing at the pup, he booped her nose.

Without a word, you motioned for him to follow you back to the living room, situating yourself on the small leather couch worn from years of hand-me-down use. Lemon hopped off your lap, her tail wagging as she beckoned Jake to sit down. He was quick to join you, sitting close enough for your knees to touch when Jake shifted his body to face you. You scanned him up and down.

He’d changed a bit, clearly, since the last you saw him. He wasn’t nearly as scrawny as before, his broad frame apparent from under his unzipped jacket. He had lost the baby fat in his cheeks, leaving behind a sharp jawline. The biggest change to note was his hair. Long gone were the black tresses, and in their place were soft blond locks.

In other words, he was hot.

“When did this happen?” you asked as he shrugged his jacket off, reaching up to twist a strand with your finger. “It looks good on you.”

Jake sent you a teasing look, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. “You would’ve known I went blond like a month and a half ago if you actually read your messages,” he chided, clicking his tongue. His eyes stayed on you, flitting across your face.

“Whatever,” you hushed, “I’ve just been busy with school.” It's a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. No one needed to know that you’ve spent the last few months acting like a heartbroken teen when you were a grown adult. Despite Jake having seen the worst parts of you in high school, you still wanted him to hold some esteem for you.

For a second, it was quiet aside from Lemon’s quiet sniffing, her nose working quickly on Jake’s discarded coat. Jake held eye contact with you, a silent question reflected in his eyes. 

“It’s still weird to me.”

Raising a brow, you rested your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your head against your palm. “What is?”

He stayed silent for a minute before leaning back against the couch, turning his head slightly to face you. “I can’t just walk down the block to annoy you now. Now, you’re four hours away unless I want to spend a few hundred on a plane ticket.” He stuck out his tongue, “‘Dunno why you didn’t stay.” His voice was light, teasing, but you could hear a slight edge to his words.

You huffed, “You know exactly why I left.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. When Heeseung broke up with you, Jake was the first one you told. Despite being an incoherent, blubbering mess over the phone, he came the instant he heard the first sob rack your body. That night, he held you without a word until your tears ran dry.

“You still hung up about it?”

Pausing, you shook your head. “No,” you bit your lip, not catching the way his eyes darted down to watch, “not anymore, anyway. I don’t feel anything for Heeseung if that’s what you’re asking.” You cracked a sardonic smile at him, punching his shoulder and chuckling when Lemon followed your movement. “Not that pathetic yet, Jake.”

He fully turned his body to you, the leather couch squeaking under his shifting weight. His golden hair fell into his eyes as he bore into yours. “I was there, remember?” His voice was gentle as if he was worried he’d scare you off. “I know it hurt more than you’re letting on. It wasn’t that long ago.”

You silently cursed him for still being able to read you so well, even after so long apart. Absentmindedly, you tugged on the hem of your shirt, playing with the edge that was starting to fray after years of use. Jake leaned forward, placing a warm hand on your bare thigh. “I’ll be there the whole time. If you want me to, I’ll stay right beside you the whole night.”

Your eyes darted to where his large hand rested on your skin, swallowing harshly. “Yeah,” you whispered, looking back up at him through your lashes. “That’d be… really nice, Jake.” You shakily exhaled; his proximity and his touch made your every nerve go haywire. Since when did Jake, your best friend since you were in diapers, have this effect on you? Looking up at the mop of messy blond on his head, you blamed the change in colour.

Jake didn’t say anything for a while but never moved his hand. The two of you sat there, staring into each other's eyes. Lemon had long ago gotten comfy in the small space between you, round eyes closed in rest. “I’ll always be there for you, you know that, right?” He said finally, voice barely above a whisper.

You could only nod, your every thought directed to the hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of your leg.

You offered Jake your shower while you went to get his luggage from his car. At first, he refused, telling you that he could get the luggage himself and take a shower afterward, but you had practically shoved him into the bathroom, claiming he smelt bad from the drive. 

Truthfully, he smelt good as ever, having always possessed an addicting scent to you.

Besides, this way, you could clear your head with some fresh air as you left and headed to your apartment parking lot. Easily spotting his car, much newer than any of the models your neighbours had, you jogged over to it. Once inside, you noted how clean the car was, coming as somewhat of a surprise to you. A carwash receipt peaked out from the middle console.

Lugging his suitcase out from the backseat, you were quick to make your way back, lest Jake be left without clothes for too long. Shutting your front door behind you, you nearly let out a scream when, on cue, Jake emerged from a cloud of steam, donning only your fluffy blue towel. He hadn’t noticed you yet, using another towel to shake out the excess water from his hair.

Unknowingly, your eyes followed a bead of water as it trailed down his toned body, disappearing under the towel that threatened to unravel itself, sending your mind into a frenzy. Turning around before he could realize that you were ogling at him like some pervert, you cleared your throat. “Got your suitcase,” you forced out. “You can change in my room if you want.”

“Ah, thanks, sweets.” You listened for his footsteps, tensing as they came closer. “Why so shy?” He inquired with a chuckle at the tip of his tongue. “‘S not like you’ve never seen me naked before.”

“Jake, we were five.”

“Still,” he laughed. You were startled when he patted your shoulder, gently turning you to face him more. You swallowed harshly at the sight of his naked chest up close. “Joking. Thanks for grabbing my stuff.” Without another word, he turned around and disappeared behind your bedroom door.

Letting out a breath, you pressed your forehead against the cool surface of your front door, holding a hand over your heart. Lemon’s tiny paws brought her over to you, the click clicks of her nails against the hardwood taking your attention away from your thoughts. She looked up at you, her head tilted as though she was questioning you. “I must be going crazy, huh?” You knelt down to let her jump on you, her front paws pressing into your leg. 

“Layla’d love her,” Jake’s voice interrupted. You looked up to see him dressed in comfy attire, a dim disappointment settling in your stomach. “You hungry? I can order something for us.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up. “You’re my guest, Jake. I can order.” You pulled out your phone and open a delivery app. Before you could get too far, the phone was taken from your grasp, left in Jake’s palm as he stared at you in challenge.

With a shake of his head, he denied you. “I may be your guest, but you’re also housing me for two weeks. Plus, I haven’t seen you in forever.” He hunched over to meet your eyes, “My treat. You can pay next time, promise.”

By the time the food arrived, you and Jake had settled in on the couch, a random movie playing on the TV. Quiet chatter filled the space. The movie had already been forgotten, acting as mere background noise to your conversation. You dug into your food without missing a beat, covering your mouth to retort whenever Jake would make a jab at you. 

“You never got to answer my question,” you prompted, putting down your chopsticks and resting the take-out container on the coffee table. “Why’d you come so early? Why not closer to the wedding?”

You watched Jake pause, his expression unreadable. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” he asked, voice low as he turned to look at you. His blond hair had been pushed up and back so many times strands framed his face, allowing you to see all of it. “Because I do,” he continued, shrugging as if he weren’t making your heart race, “I want to see you. All the time.”

Unsure of how to respond, you sputtered for a moment before turning away, your cheeks warm. “I’ve wanted to see you too,” you mumbled, “so thanks. For coming.”

“For you? Always.”

Rolling your eyes, you bumped Jake with your shoulder. “When did you get so cheesy?”

Jake pulled his lower lip under his teeth for a second, biting at the plump flesh as he mulled over an answer. “Just missed you, is all.”

Nodding, you turned your head to watch the rest of the movie. It was confusing since neither of you watched the first half. Beside you, Jake turned to do the same. If either of you noticed how the space between you had become nonexistent, thighs and shoulders pressed together, no one said a word. You couldn’t complain, enjoying how Jake’s warmth seeped through his clothes and into your skin.

Without realizing it, the both of you fell asleep. The TV had gone dark after hours of inactivity, the moon lighting up the room with a dark hue. Jake awoke first, grumbling when his neck had a familiar ache in it. But when he went to roll his shoulder, something was in the way. Or rather, someone. He turned, pursing his lips to stay quiet as he realized you were leaning on him.

Your legs were draped over his own, something you must’ve done in your sleep. Or maybe it was him searching for a source of warmth in the coolness of the night. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, your head fitting directly in the crook of his neck. He felt his skin burn as he swore quietly. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the time.

3:02 a.m.

As slowly as he could, he hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back. Standing, he hoped his racing heart wouldn’t wake you. Jake maneuvered the dark apartment as best he could without accidentally hitting your head against the walls of your hallway. Luckily, you left your bedroom door open, so he didn’t need to figure that out somehow. 

Lemon was already asleep, curled up on your left pillow. Carefully, he laid you down on the bed, pushing away stray hairs on your face afterward. He stayed there for a moment, staring at your peaceful expression. His heart warmed, a tingly feeling in his belly erupting at the sight of you. He tugged the blanket over your body, pressing a finger to his lips when Lemon startled awake.

Tucking you in, he hovered for a minute before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. “Night, sweets,” he whispered before moving to his feet. Before he could get very far, a hand shot out from under the blanket and weakly grasped at his wrist. Turning, Jake held a breath at the sight of your sleepy eyes gazing up at him. “Only have one bed,” you slurred, sleep taking over your speech. “Sleep here.”

Jake balked at you, hands subconsciously balling at his sides. “Are you sure? I can sleep on the couch—”

“No! Sleep here.” You didn’t give him much room to argue as you scooted backwards to give him some room before lifting the blanket in invitation. This movement bugged Lemon, clearly, as she moved from your pillow to lay in the nook of your bent legs. “Come on, we’ve slept in the same bed before.”

Swallowing at the sight of you, eyes barely open and shirt riding up further than he could handle, Jake relented, knowing you would keep arguing with him until daylight. The last time we slept in the same bed, you were bawling your eyes out over Heeseung, he stopped himself from saying. The thought lingered as he crawled in next to you, keeping a respectful distance. 

Satisfied, you allowed your heavy lids to close, a small, contented smile painted on your lips. “G’night, Jake.”

He sighed. “Good night, sweets.”

You fell asleep instantly, hand resting on the pillow in front of your face. Jake mirrored your position, your pinkies centimetres from touching. He observed the slow rise and fall of your chest and the occasional sniffs when your hair would fall and tickle your nose. His eyes traced your every feature, from the curve of your cheek to your supple lips. 

Jake did not sleep well that night.

FOURTEEN DAYS.

Two days after Jake had made an appearance, he quickly fell into a routine with you. He would wake up first and have a cup of coffee ready for you whenever you’d sleepily bound into the kitchen. A bowl of cereal would already be sitting on the counter, the jug of milk sitting beside it. Your mornings were quiet as you both woke up, only a raspy “good morning” before you’d sit in silence over your bowls.

It had been a long time since you had such normalcy, and you’d be lying if you said you hated it.

“Hey,” he started, only half done chewing his cereal. “We have, like, two weeks left until we actually need to be in Seoul, right?”

You eyed him suspiciously for his cheery tone so early in the morning. Swallowing your food first, you nodded. “Yeah, but Chae wants us back at least two days before in case things need fixing or whatever.” Sipping your coffee, you raised a brow at him, “Why?”

Grinning at you, he leaned over to grab your arm in excitement. Your eyes darted to where you connected, noting how his thumb immediately started rubbing the inside of your wrist, making you cross your legs under the table. “Let’s make our trip back a road trip!”

You blinked. “Jake. You drove here—it was already going to be a road trip to go back.”

Jake threw his head back in a groan, inadvertently showing you his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down. You followed the movement down to his wide shoulders before looking away a second before he straightened up to meet eyes with you. “Dummy, I know that. Let’s make it a fun road trip with loads of stops and everything!” He talked animatedly, waving his hands with reckless abandon. “There are lots of small towns and pitstops on the way to Seoul, but we’ve never actually explored them.”

“How do you know I haven’t?”

Jake looked at you as if you had grown two heads. “If you have and I wasn’t invited, your best friend card is being revoked this instant. You hear me? Revoked.”

Laughing, you stood and grabbed both of your empty bowls. “Fine, we can have your fun road trip. You’re doing all the planning, though, since it was your idea.” You tilted his coffee mug toward you to see if he had finished it, placing it back where it was when you saw the brown liquid still swirling inside. He followed you to the sink, sleeves already rolled up when you placed the porcelain into the basin.

You didn’t say anything when he gently pulled you to the side and grabbed the sponge to start cleaning. “I already have the route!” He told you, not taking his eyes off the dishes. “It’s in my phone. You can look—it’s in the notes app.” Peaking at you through his lashes, he nodded his head in the general direction of where he left his phone. “Password’s still the same.”

You snorted, picking it up from the table before joining him at the sink, hopping up on the counter beside him. As you entered your birthyear into the phone, you didn’t catch the way he eyes your thighs, your shorts doing little to nothing to cover up the way they flattened slightly against the cool marble. “Y’know,” you started, ripping him out of his thoughts, ushering him to quickly place the bowls and spoons onto your drying rack. “This is a shitty password. You’re gonna get robbed one day.”

 He shrugged, pulling the hand towel off your oven’s handle to dry his hands. You watched him, silently ogling at the veins that popped out in his forearms when he turned to replace the towel. “Maybe, but it’s important to me.”

“My birth year?”

He grinned at you with a simple nod, standing between your thighs. His eyes fell to them once more when you absentmindedly spread your legs to give him room to stand. Biting the inside of his cheek, he shakily rested his palms on either side of you, moving slow enough for you to object if you were uncomfortable. "It's the year my favourite person was born, after all." You didn’t say anything, instead looking back at his phone screen.

He watched as your eyes flit back and forth as you read, his fingers itching to move closer to you, to touch your skin. He opted to curl his fingers until his nails dug into his palms. “When did you figure this out?” You asked, smiling at the title of the note.

Sweets and Jake’s Road Trip !!!

“Last night, while you slept.”

You shot him a look, searching for eye bags. You were relieved when you didn’t see any, but you punched his shoulder nonetheless. “Idiot. If you can’t sleep, you can wake me, you know? You don’t have to stay up by yourself.” You placed a hand on his forearm, rubbing your thumb over a jutting vein just as he had to you moments before.

His urge to touch you grew stronger, and he felt his mental fortitude crumbling at the contact. Clearing his throat, Jake shrugged. “You’re cute when you sleep, princess. Didn’t want to wake you.” Moving away before your scent could drive him any more insane, he rubbed the back of his neck. “So? What’s the verdict?”

Lips parted from his casual slip of a nickname you’d never heard from him before, you dumbly nodded. “Good. It’s good. Let’s do it.” You hopped down from the counter, Jake’s hands immediately moving to steady you once you got on your feet. “When do we leave?”

Jake grinned at you, revealing his canines. “Whenever you’re ready, sweets.”

You returned the smile, excitement starting to affect you. “Let’s get ready then, shall we?”

It didn’t take either of you very long to get your suitcases and essentials put together. Jake had mostly kept his things in his suitcase, only pulling out clothes he needed for the day or toiletries that you didn’t have any to spare. Two toothbrushes sat in a cup instead of the usual one, and the sight made you grin as you collected your things. Chaewon had your dress up in Seoul, so you didn’t need to worry about any of that either.

An hour after Jake proposed the road trip, he was waiting outside, one hand clasped over both of your luggage handles, the other holding Lemon’s carrier as you locked the door. The two of you walked out to his car in silence, the crisp morning air making you shiver under your thin jacket. “It’s still summer,” you complained in a long drawl, “why is it so fucking cold in the morning?”

Jake laughed at you, thanking you when you opened the back door of his car for him and carefully slid the luggage and carrier in. “Relax, princess, I’ll turn the heat on just for you, yeah?”

You grumbled at his teasing, taking your spot in the passenger seat without a word as he held the door open for you. You watched him jog around the car to reach his side, never taking your eyes off him as he fiddled with the A/C. As he turned the ignition on, he handed you his phone. “Put something on for me, will you?” 

As he drove, you noted the fact that he drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the middle console. His arms were exposed in the black tee he wore, seemingly not as affected by the cold as you were. You willed yourself not to notice how the shirt was unfairly form-fitting, wrapping around the bulk of his bicep in a way that was sending you spinning. 

The first stop was five minutes away from your apartment as Jake pulled into the parking lot of a nearby convenience store. Jake unrolled the windows a bit for Lemon, telling her to be good as the both of you exited the vehicle. Once inside, you shivered at how strong the store had its A/C running. 

Eyeing you, Jake sent you a smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll be quick.”

Without another word, you followed as Jake made his way through the different aisles, picking up snacks that you easily recognized as some of your favourites. Even grabbing a heat pack, he waved it at you teasingly. “Weirdo, needing a heat pack in the middle of August.”

You sputtered, “Wha— I never asked you to—”

Interrupting you with a bark of a laugh, he shook his head. “Just poking fun. C’mon, let’s go. Lemon’s probably waiting for us.” You huffed but didn’t argue as he pulled you to the front cashier by the hand. You trained your sight on your connected hands, moving them so your fingers interlaced. Jake briefly looked down at what you’d done, but if it bothered him, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, it’s you!”

To both your surprise and Jake’s, the cashier’s eyes lit up when he saw you. “We had English together,” he filled in when you didn’t seem to recognize him. “We were in a group project together for the final?” You blinked a few times before making a noise of recognition.

“Riki! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with the new hair,” you explained, glancing at his newly dark brown hair. “It was blond before. Looks good now, though!” You gave him a thumbs up. Before he could reply beside you, Jake cleared his throat. Both you and Riki looked at him, realizing that the latter hadn’t even started ringing your items through, and there was a bit of a line behind you.

Riki immediately started scanning the snacks Jake had brought, never taking his eyes off you. “What’re you up to this summer? I haven’t seen you at all since the semester ended.”

You hummed, “My cousin’s wedding is in two weeks, so Jake and I—” You nudged him, not noticing how quiet he had gotten. “—are driving back to Seoul right after this.”

The younger boy nodded, glancing over at Jake before looking down at your hands. You forgot they were still intertwined, but Jake's grip tightened when you went to let go. You dropped your head to hide how warm your cheeks felt, biting your lip lightly. “Ah,” Riki put down the scanning gun, his tone noticeably less happy. “₩9000, please.”

Jake threw a few crumpled notes on the counter before bowing his head slightly in goodbye, tugging you toward the exit wordlessly. You waved at Riki over your shoulder before walking quickly to fall in step with Jake. “You okay? You were quiet in there, and then you pulled us out like that.”

Jake only nodded, carelessly tossing the bag of snacks into the back with your luggage. “Here,” he tossed you the heat pack, already cracked and warming up. He opened your door again without further explanation before taking his own seat.

You stared at his profile in confusion, the heat pack already doing its job on your frigid hands. As he pulled back onto the road, you glanced at his hand, which rested over the middle console as it had before.

Curiously, you turned his wrist until his palm was facing upward. Jake watched you from the corner of his eye, only turning his head when he reached a red light. He hadn’t expected you to put your hand in his, interlocking your fingers once again. “Your hands are warmer,” you mumbled, leaning back to get comfortable. In shock, Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

Smiling tightly at him, you squeezed his hand. “The light’s green.”

Snapping his head forward, he coughed as he focused on the road. For the next while, your hand would stay in his. The ride to the next town was spent in silence, with you mouthing the lyrics to songs you recognized from his playlists. 

In Jake’s phone, he had written that you were to stay at motels in towns along the way. When you protested at the cost it would be, he simply argued with it’s for the experience, sweets. And no worries! I’m paying for the whole trip. And when you argued with that last bit, he only replied, if I see your wallet at all, I might have to fight you.

Your first real stop was in a small fishing village, the last coastal town you’d see before you started driving inland. The morning chill was gone, replaced with the comforting warmth of the summer sun. Despite that, you didn’t let go of Jake’s hand until you had to get out of the car. Stretching your limbs, you groaned when you felt and heard some joints pop. 

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you took in the smell of the ocean and the distant chatter of nearby townspeople. The motel Jake brought you to was a little rundown; it was obvious that it had been around for quite some time. The paint was peeling a bit, and the shingles on the roof made it look dated, but it had a cozy feel to it. Besides, it was the only dog-friendly motel in the area, so you couldn’t afford to be choosy.

“Hello,” the old woman at the receptionist's desk greeted you kindly, eyes shifting from you to Jake. You smiled at her, bowing your head in respect. Besides you, Jake did the same with that easygoing grin of his. “How may I help you?”

“A room for two, please,” said Jake.

The woman nodded, looking over at the remaining room keys. Grabbing one, she handed it over to you before telling Jake how much it’d cost. As Jake fumbled with his wallet, the old woman looked at you fondly. “You two are precious,” she informed you with an air of nostalgia, her wrinkled hand resting atop her chest over her heart. “I remember when me and my late husband were your age.”

You blushed at her insinuation that you and Jake were together but found that the idea wasn’t as jarring as you thought it’d be. You couldn’t tell if Jake didn’t catch the comment or chose not to reply as he handed her the money she needed. 

It wasn’t hard to find your room out of the ten total, and you were pleased to see that the coziness of the outside continued inside. Jake wheeled your luggage in while you opened Lemon’s carrier, letting her roam free in the room, sniffing the foreign air. The room itself wasn’t too big, consisting of the main room that could only fit a single queen bed and not much else and a bathroom that was longer than it was wide. 

“It’s like we’re teens again,” you giggled at Jake, shrugging off your jacket. “We’re sharing beds often.”

Jake let out a breath at the realization that there really was only one bed again and nodded stiffly. He supposed that was his fault for not mentioning how many beds you needed. “I guess so,” he gazed at you tenderly. “You sure you don’t mind?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “You can cut the gentleman act with me, Jake. If I minded, I would’ve said something already. We shared a bed in my apartment, remember?”

Of course I remember, he thought, it was driving me crazy.

In truth, Jake hasn’t been able to sleep because of how cuddly you were in your sleep. He’d purposely lay as far as he could from you so as not to give in to any temptations, but it seemed like you had other plans whenever you laid your head to rest. Not two minutes after he’d heard your soft snores, your hands were reaching for him, pulling you closer to his torso until you were snuggled up against him. 

He may have only been staying with you for two days, but he’s had to take just as many cold showers before you woke up.

“Do you wanna go on a walk?” you asked once the two of you settled. Lemon sat by your feet, circling them by looping under the chair you sat on to entertain herself. “It’d be nice to venture out! I think poor Lemon’s a bit restless from the carrier.” You bent over to rub behind her ears, to which she let out a yip of approval.

Jake smiled softly at the sight before nodding. “Let’s go, then.”

Thankfully, Lemon was an off-leash dog and stayed close by as you walked the streets of an unfamiliar town. In the distance, seagulls cried out to each other as fishing boats pushed off from the harbour. The sound of the sea lulled you into a peaceful reverie. You and Jake walked side by side, fingers brushing against each other every so often.

“It’s nice here,” you mumbled, “we should have done this sooner.”

Jake hummed, the low noise rattling in your ears. You closed your eyes as you walked, fully trusting Jake to guide you if you were going to walk into anything. He smiled softly at the sight of your relaxed demeanour, moving to hold your hand. You walked in silence for a bit before you reached the shore. Jake spotted some beach chairs, pulling you along. Lemon bounded ahead, happy to have room to run. You cracked open your eyes in time to see her jump into the water, barking happily as she entertained herself.

“Next time, you should bring Layla,” you suggested as you sat down. 

Jake smiled down at your hands. “Yeah, next time.”

Silence fell upon you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You both watched Lemon as she played in the water, occasionally coming up to bring you a rock she had found before hopping back into the puddles the tide was creating. All the while, your hands stayed clasped, with Jakes's thumb rubbing familiar circles on the back of your palm.

“Why did you move so far?”

You halted, your smile slipping. “You asked me already.”

“But you weren’t being completely truthful with me.” He looked at you, concern shining in his eyes. “You’re not over it, are you?”

The topic dampened your mood, your heart rate rising as you avoided eye contact. “I told you already, Jake. I don’t love Heeseung anymore. I’m fine,” you pressed, lying through your teeth. Lying to Jake always left a bitter taste in your mouth, as you knew he could tell immediately that it wasn’t the truth. “What kind of cousin would I be if I were still in love with her groom-to-be?”

Jake’s frown deepened. “You have the right to be hurt—”

“But I’m not! So drop it.” Your outburst garnered the attention of a few townspeople who were out and about, causing you to flush in embarrassment. Lowering your voice, you stared down at the rocky beach, digging your dirtied trainers into the course sand. “I’m fine.”

Unbelieving, Jake continued, “It’s just… I thought you had enough reason to stay.”

His words made you look up, annoyed at how much he was pressing the topic on you. “Clearly, I didn’t.” Shaking your head, you dropped his hand before standing to your feet and dusting off imaginary dirt from your pants. You looked down at him, a mistake as you were forced to look at his hurt expression, lip trembling as he stared up at you open-mouthed. “I’m going back.”

He only watched your back as you walked away, beckoning Lemon to follow. The poor puppy got out of the water, shaking off the excess. She ran toward you but paused and looked back at Jake. She tilted her head as if she were asking Aren’t you coming? before running after you.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, shellshocked, until he realized that the sun was starting to set. Deciding he had been out there long enough, Jake slowly made his way back to the motel. When he got to your room, he hesitated, knowing that you could easily lock him out for the night if you were still upset with him since you had the only key.

Jake stood there, mulling over whether or not he should try knocking, but before he could even decide, the door opened. He was met with you, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “Don’t just stand there,” you opened the door more for him to come in. His heart broke at the sight of you and at how wet your voice sounded, as if you had just finished crying.

“Sweets, I’m sorry—” 

You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him. “No, you did… you did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have exploded at you like that or left you alone out there.” You looked down in shame, gnawing at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

He was quick to lift your chin with two fingers, keeping them there as he rested his other hand on your upper arm. “Hey, no, none of that. I shouldn’t have pushed you when you obviously didn’t want to talk about it.” He pushed your hair behind your ear before bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head before muttering in your ear, “I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I won’t ask about it until you tell me you’re ready.”

You let go of the hug, but Jake kept you close in his arms. Looking into his eyes with welled-up tears, you pouted slightly, bringing his gaze downward. “You’re sure you’re not upset with me?”

“With you, never, sweets.”

You opened your mouth but closed it before you could say anything. Hugging him again, your voice came out muffled. “Wanna sleep.”

Jake chuckled at you, dropping his head in disbelief. “Okay.”

Not long after, you were both situated in bed, with Lemon lying at your feet like usual. As he had for nights before, Jake kept his distance, but you quickly changed that. For the first time, you cuddled up to him while you were awake, fully aware of your actions. Jake’s breath halted as he felt you nuzzle your face into the soft fabric of his tee, which smelt so strongly of him that it was all you could smell. “I love you,” you whispered into his skin, sending his brain into a frenzy. “You’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.”

Jake could practically hear the record screech in his head, gritting his teeth a bit before relaxing his jaw to leave another soft kiss against your temple. “I love you too, sweets.”

The day had exhausted him more than he’d realized. For the first time in two days, Jake found himself falling asleep right after you, holding you tightly against his chest.

You awoke to the feeling of something warm attached to your neck. A quiet moan escaped your lips when the something bit down. You felt large hands explore the expanse of your side, your sleeping shirt pushed far up. Something hard poked against your thigh as you angled your head upward.

Your eyes fluttered open as you realized it was Jake, groaning as he nipped at your skin, leaving behind blossoms of red and purple. You moved your hips closer to his, gasping when his growing hard-on made contact with your clothed sex. “Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me,” he uttered, his deep voice going straight to your groin. Your panties, you were sure, were already soaked with your slick.

“Please,” you whined as he bit down harder, and his hand roamed higher, tracing the curve of the underside of your breast with his fingers. His mouth felt oh-so-hot on your skin, and his teasing touch did little to alleviate it. “Show me, Jake. Show me what I do to you.”

He pulled back, ignoring the noise of disappointment you made. His eyes looked impossibly dark as he hovered over you, chest heaving. “Be careful what you wish for, pretty girl.” He easily flipped you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. You moaned loudly when he ground his hips against yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he’d gotten. 

His lips met yours in a hungry kiss, tongue forcing itself past your lips to lick into your mouth. His hands moved wildly, pushing your shirt up until your breasts were fully uncovered, nipples pebbling in exposure to the cold air. “So beautiful,” he groaned into your ear as one hand kneaded your left breast. “Fuck, gonna make you mine, yeah? You want that?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed pathetically, a sob of need ripping through your throat as his free hand made its way to your shorts. “Please, Jake, need you so badly.”

He groaned again, pushing past the elastic waistband and guiding his fingers into your soaked panties. He moved down to collect your wetness and…

You breathed in harshly when you woke up, your heart racing faster than it ever had before. You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness of the room, remembering where you were. Your chest heaved as you tried to calm yourself down, your face burning. Oh my god, you thought in slight mortification.

Jake’s arm rested over your middle, you realized, as he spooned you from behind. Your startle hadn’t woken him, his soft snores sounding in your ear canals. You were relieved that he wasn’t awake to ask why you woke up so violently because how were you to explain that it was because you were having a wet dream about him?

The dull feeling of disappointment had settled into your gut from having been interrupted before the dream could get good, a feeling that came with shame at how indisputable your horniness was. You’d never dreamed of Jake in such a light, but now you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to rid yourself of the sight of his eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure as he ground against you—

No. You need to stop.

Turning your head to groan into the pillow, you became hyper-aware of how wet you were, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your pussy. You pressed your legs together, silently willing the pulsing of your clit to calm down and let you fall asleep again. If you fall asleep, you might forget about this in the morning.

“Stop moving,” Jake’s tired voice scared you, making you jump. He used his arm to pull you closer against him, your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise. Not long after, you heard his deep breaths again, signalling that he’d fallen asleep. 

Fuck, you were screwed. You closed your eyes tightly, but all you could think about was how firm and warm he felt. Pressed against him like this, you could almost feel everything. From his tone chest and legs to his soft length, pressing against your backside. His gray sweats and your flimsy shorts barely acted as a barrier between you. Stretching your legs out, you realize that Lemon had hopped off the bed at some point, likely to sleep in her carrier.

Without thinking, your shaky hand made its way down your front, actively avoiding his arm. You bit your lip harshly as you slipped a finger underneath your shorts, listening carefully to ensure he wasn’t awake. This is crazy, you have never thought of doing something so indecent in front of Jake, but the idea was sending you into a frenzy. 

You fingertip made contact with your slit, and you had to stop yourself from moaning aloud at just how wet you were. Slowly, you rubbed circles around your clit, jolting slightly at the initial contact. Maybe it was from the dream or the fact that Jake was right there, but you felt more sensitive than usual, holding in whimpers with every movement.

“F-fuck,” you accidentally let out, screwing your eyes shut as you moved your hand faster. In the quiet stillness of the night, you could hear your slick with every flick of your wrist. If Jake woke up, there’d be no question to what you were doing, but the thought only spurred you on more.

Using your other hand to grope yourself over your shirt, you teased your entrance, easily inserting a finger. It wasn’t enough, your finger failing to fill you up how you know Jake’s would, a thought that forced out a rather loud moan.

Realizing how loud you were, you paused and listened to his breathing. Before you could even register that his breaths weren’t as deep as they were before, his arm tightened around you.

“Naughty fucking girl,” he hissed into your ear, pulling your hand out of your panties. You didn’t have time to feel humiliated before he rolled you onto your back, his thighs pressing into your waist as he sat on top of you. The look he gave you was just like the one he had in your dream, eyes dark and pupils full-blown, eyebrows furrowed together in desperate need.

“Touching yourself like that while my arm’s around you,” he spat, leaning until he was mere inches away from your face. “Thinking I wouldn’t wake up. Needed me that badly, yeah?”

It was clear that you were shocked, wide-eyed and jaw agape. Not once in your lifetime of friendship with Jake had you seen this feral side to him. You felt his hardening length when he pressed his hips down and groaned. “Come on, sweets. I know you’re smarter than that. You can answer me with words like a big girl.”

You smacked your lips together in disbelief before nodding slowly. “Yeah,” you stuttered. “Need you so bad, Jake.” Your own words surprised you, his boldness rubbing off on you. “Dreamt of you,” you confessed.

Jake raised a brow at you, laying his hand flat on your side. “Yeah? Was I touching you,” he used his hand to push up your shirt, moving faster than his dream counterpart had and groping at your breast, flicking his thumb over the hardening bud. “Like this?”

Nodding fervently, you bit your lip to hold in your moans as he handled you. He clicked his tongue using his other hand to pull at your bottom lip until it was released from your teeth. “Wanna hear you, princess. You had no problem moaning while I was asleep. Unfair to hide them in front of me now, isn’t it?”

He bent down to take your other nipple in his hot mouth, his searing tongue darting out to circle the sensitive bud. His eyes never left yours, watching your expressions as you arched your back to his ministrations. He let go of your nipple, only to blow cold air on it, making you whimper. “What else did I do, pretty?” He asked, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Fuck,” you cried when he thrust his hips against you, giving you a hint as to what was to come. “Made me feel so good, Jake.” You threw your head back as he continued, shallowly thrusting against your clothed core. You weakly pointed at your neck. “Kissed me here,” you sighed when he leaned forward to leave kitten licks against your neck, nipping gently at the skin. “And…”

He bit down on the skin under your ear, using his tongue to soothe the mark before kissing up to your earlobe. “And?” His deep voice resonated within you, making you shiver.

“And then you…” You trailed off, instead opting to run a hand down your front to the waistband of your shorts, not missing the way his eyes followed. “Touched me here.” Tapping over your clothed clit, you avoided his gaze out of shyness, still in disbelief of this situation. “Then I woke up.” Your voice was weak, doused in lust and need for the man in front of you.

He smirked at you, moving back so he could pull your shorts off, leaving you in your oversized tee—an old shirt of his he’d given you before you moved—and your soaked baby blue panties. Even in the dark, he could see how wet you were, the thought making him groan as he palmed himself over his sweats at the sight of you. 

“Poor baby,” he sighed, though you heard no actual sympathy in his tone. “Couldn’t get off in your dream, so you touched yourself like a whore in front of me.” You squirmed at his vulgarity, his words sending shockwaves to your clenching pussy. Shifting his body down the bed so he was laying between your thighs, he left kisses up and down the sensitive skin there. His tongue traced a line from your knee up to where you truly wanted him before stopping right before your panties. His mouth wrapped around your skin as he bit down, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to really hurt.

When he pulled away, a dark hickey had formed. “Shit,” he groaned, “God, I love marking you up.” He looked back up at you, resting on your elbows so you could watch him. “Gonna leave marks all over, yeah? Then you’ll know who made you feel good, pretty girl.”

Mindlessly, you nodded, wanting him to do anything he wanted with you. His every word made you feel impossibly wet, almost embarrassingly so.

Without missing a beat, he kissed your clit over your panties, making you whimper as you thrust your hips up toward his face. “Patience, baby,” he mumbled, tonguing you through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Gonna make you feel good.” Using his teeth, he pulled your panties down, your slick stringing along as he got them to your knees before using his hands to pull them off completely. 

The sight of your exposed cunt, wet and clenching around nothing, made Jake crazy. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted with a groan before he dove into your pussy, licking up your slick. He drew figure-eights over your clit before closing his lips around it and sucking, making you cry out. You felt his long fingers poke at your entrance, the stimulation leaving you a mess of moans and whimpers.

When two of his fingers pushed past your entrance, you both groaned at the feeling of him sliding inside your gummy walls. His tongue worked at your clit as he slowly scissored his fingers inside you, all while watching your reactions. “So hot,” you gasped, clawing at the bed sheets. “Fuck, Jake, gonna…” You cut yourself off, moaning loudly, when he started moving his fingers faster.

“Cum for me, sweets.” His demand seemingly made you snap as you came around his fingers in an instant. He closed his eyes as his jaw dropped in a groan, relishing the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers. He slowly took them out, biting his lip at how wet you were. The whine you let out once you were empty would live in his mind for the rest of his days, he decided, as he moved up the bed to come eye to eye with you.

You watched as he sucked his fingers clean of your wetness before leaning in and kissing you harshly. The taste of him mixed with your juices made you moan, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt tightly. He bit your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly before kissing you deeply once more. Your lips slotted together with ease, like two puzzle pieces.

He felt your hand travel down his stomach to the strings of his sweatpants, leaning back to watch as you undid the knot before pulling them down in a swift motion. He sat up to kick the garment off, before returning to his spot between your thighs. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, hunger in your gaze as you inspected his cock, hard against his stomach. It was red, needy and weeping, one pronounced vein running along his shaft. More importantly, he was thick—thicker than any toys you had bought on a whim.

When you looked up at him, he must’ve caught your fear as he cupped your face in his warm palm. Kissing you gently, he brushed your hair back. “We don’t need to go any further if you don’t want us to,” he assured you, even though the hardness of his length said otherwise. “We’ll only go as far as you want to.”

You bit your lip, “Then…” Without another word, you closed a fist around his shaft, watching his eyes widen. “I want to make you feel good, too,” you whispered. You collected some of his precum, using it to glide your hand up and down at a torturous pace, your eyes never leaving his face.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breaths fan over your skin, leaving goosebumps, and he moaned in your ear. His arms were braced on either side of your head, his scent invading your senses as you touched him. “Doing so well for me,” he hushed, kissing at your neck. He nudged your jawline with his nose, sucking down on your jugular. “Shit,” his hips stuttered, thrusting up into your grasp. “Go faster for me, yeah?”

You nodded, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you picked up speed. Using your other hand to grasp his balls, you delighted in the way he groaned a little louder, your name slipping from his lips wantonly. Leaning forward, you bit down on his shoulder, flicking your tongue out just as he had before. With your lips on him, he moaned your name once more, fucking up into your hand with reckless abandon. He swore lowly as his hips stilled, ropes of thick cum spilling from his cock and onto your hands and shirt.

He stayed there momentarily, catching his breath before hovering a bit higher to watch you. Inspecting your hand, you brought it to your lips. His eyes never left your tongue as he watched it dart out to catch any drops of his seed. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he sighed once you finished, wiping off any remains on your soiled tee. He pulled the tee over your head before giving you his own, still warm from being worn. 

“Go to sleep, sweets,” he mumbled against your temple as he settled in next to you. “We’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”

Your morning talk ended up with his tongue between your thighs in the shower as you struggled to keep yourself up, one leg over his shoulder. You were sure the people in the rooms next to you could hear your cries when you came on his tongue for the nth time, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 

Once he thought you had cum an adequate amount of times, he carefully set you down, massaging your aching thighs as he kissed you gently. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. Taking the opportunity, you pecked his lips before reaching for the body wash, giggling.

You never ended up talking about it, getting distracted by Lemon, who whined at the door when you finally came out of the bathroom. 

The rest of the road trip went similarly. You’d hold hands as he drove to your next destination, and then you’d get each other off in your motel rooms until the motel owners eventually kicked you out for disturbances. Between towns, you’d talk as if he wasn’t just knuckles deep in your heat or as if you didn’t just have his cock shoved down your throat as he fucked your face.

Words that needed to be spoken never were. Your fearful thoughts kept you from initiating the conversation that could very well destroy years of friendship with Jake.

ONE DAY.

Finally, you had made it to Seoul. Unfortunately, a flat tire in the middle of nowhere stopped you from getting there two days before, as Chaewon wanted. Luckily, nothing did go wrong and everything seemed to be ready for tomorrow.

Tired from the long trip, both emotionally and physically, Jake offered his house for you to stay at. Without thinking, you said yes. You took his keys and unlocked the door as Jake grabbed your things from the car, Lemon pushing past your feet and into the house, eager to explore.

As she made her way around, her nails against the hardwood floor indicating where she was, you and Jake pushed your luggage into the living room before collapsing onto the couch.

“I’m so happy to be home,” he sighed, stretching his limbs. “As fun as road trips are, nothing beats sleeping in your own bed.” Glancing over at you, a million thoughts raced in his mind, but he pushed them away. He wanted to talk about what you were, the frequent hookups making his brain mush. But he could read you—he always could. You’ve always been so emotive that you made it easy, but he had your habits memorized. He knew exactly when you didn’t want to do something and that you weren’t ready for talking.

So he didn’t say anything, even though he knew it might hurt him in the long run.

Unlike your apartment or the many motels you stayed at over your trip, Jake actually had two beds. The thought of sleeping in separate rooms felt so foreign, but he told you anyway. You hummed, “Maybe I should sleep in the guest room then.” You grinned at him, “You’re probably tired of having to share a bed with me by now.”

Never, he thought.

That night, he lay in his too-empty bed, restless. Knowing you were in the same house, with only a thin wall separating you, was driving him mad. Not having you next to him, curled up against his side, drove him mad. His hand clenched around the bedsheets, where you would’ve been if you had taken up his silent plea to sleep in the same room as him.

In that moment, Jake realizes just how screwed he really is. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he quietly swore into the empty room, his heart aching. Jake had gotten so used to being so close to you, to have you by his side as he pleasured you, your high-pitched cries echoing in his ears. He knew it wouldn’t last forever and that he’d have to drive you home a few days after the wedding. Then, he didn’t know how long it’d be until he saw you again.

He wonders if everything that happened will get brushed under the rug. God, he hoped not. 

Just as he decided he’d need some sleep for the wedding tomorrow, he heard something through the wall. He held his breath, straining his ears to hear the noise's source. Before long, he realized it was you, your short breaths easily passing through the wall, the sound of your slick ringing clear as day to him.

Without another thought, he ripped off his blanket and made his way to the guest room. To his surprise, you hadn’t even closed your door, his eyes blessed with the sight of you atop the bed. Neither the blankets nor the sheets were disturbed, making it clear that you hadn’t even gotten comfortable before you started. He watched in a daze as your fingers plunged in and out of your hole, your face contorted into one of drunken pleasure.

He felt himself grow hard as he stepped closer. You whimpered out his name as you rubbed harsh circles over your clit, and something inside Jake snapped.

“You must love fucking torturing me,” he rasped, roughly pulling your fingers out of your pussy and pinning your hands to the bed, leaving your body fully exposed to him. “Always touching yourself in front of me like a slut. You knew what you were doing, leaving your door open.” When you turned your head away in feigned humiliation, he used his free hand to forcibly turn your cheek. His nails dug into your jaw as he forced you to look at him.

“Do you know how crazy you make me feel?” He asked, but he narrowed his eyes at you when you went to answer. “Do you know how fucking long I’ve wanted to see you like this? Needy and begging for my cock?” His words shut up, the implication of something more making your heart race.

“Do you know how hard it’s been for me to stop myself from making you mine every night we’re together?” He growled, letting go of your hands to push your legs up against your chest. “Do you know how hard it is to refrain from kissing you every time you look at me with that look in your eye?”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, your lips meeting in a fight for dominance. His hands pushed you deeper against the bed as he pressed himself against you. His patience was wearing thin as he pulled away, only to pull off his shirt before he leaned in again. Your lips, your taste—all of you was addicting to Jake.

“Jake,” you moaned out when he attacked your neck, adding to the healing bruises from before. “‘M ready now. Please, please, make me yours,” you begged, spreading your legs wider for emphasis.

If he wasn’t hard before, he was now at your plea, a growl stuck at the back of his throat at the thought of fucking you like how he’s wanted to. “You sure, princess?” he asked, leaning back to look you in the eye.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you gasped, eyes darting from his left to right. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

Jake only shook his head, pulling you in for another deep kiss. Jake swallowed your moans, a feeling of possessiveness taking over him as he fondled your breasts. “All mine,” he hissed, “you’re mine.”

He made quick work of his sleep shorts, the garment getting thrown across the room into some corner to be found in the morning. His cock was pretty as ever, and your hands instinctively went to grab at it. “Next time, baby,” he rasped, “Need to take you now.”

You cried out when you felt the tip of his length nudge against your folds, collecting your juices as he ran his cock up and down your cunt. A broken whimper of his name ripped through your throat when he bumped your clit, his own deep moan shaking in his chest. He felt like he was losing his mind, the warmth of your pussy felt so good against his shaft, and he hadn’t even entered you yet.

You felt him line himself up at your entrance, and you tensed. Noticing, Jake left gentle kisses against your shoulder. “I’ll take care of you, pretty, just lay back, yeah?”

You nodded but felt hot tears well up in your eyes as he pushed past your entrance, a stinging burn erupting between your legs. He moved slowly, but inch by inch, the burn became more intense. “It’ll hurt more when you’re this tense, baby,” he whispered, massaging your right breast in hopes of distracting you. His lips met yours in a kiss more gentle than any that preceded it. Screwing your eyes shut, tears beaded at the corners of your eyes before they fell, disappearing into your hairline. He kissed your temple when he finally bottomed out after what felt like years. “Doing so well for me, sweets.”

He stilled for a few minutes despite wanting nothing more but to drill into you. Leaving kisses all over your face and neck, he observed as your face relaxed more and more. “You can move now,” you whispered, out of breath.

“Yeah? Trust me?”

“Mhm,” you closed your eyes—the sting had disappeared, and now you just felt stuffed. “I trust you, Jake.”

Your admittance made his head spin as he dropped his head onto your shoulder. Slowly, he pulled out until just the tip was inside before thrusting into you. A low moan rumbled in your chest as Jake sucked at your neck. He repeated the motion, rocking into you slowly until you got used to it.

After a while, the pain turned to pleasure as you clenched around him, making him gasp against your skin. “Faster, please,” you begged, linking your ankles around his back. “Need you.”

Just as you asked, Jake upped his pace, moving steadily. He sat back gripping your waist as he thrust into you. He watched for your reactions, eyes darting from your scrunched up face to the bouncing of your breasts down to the jiggle of your thighs with each thrust. His speed picked up until he was pistoling into you, broken moans pushing past your lips as his hips slapped against yours.

The sound of your wetness was so obscene, if you were in a normal state of mind you would’ve been embarrassed. But the drag of his cock against your walls and the way his pelvic bone grazed your clit every time he bottomed out was deliciously addicting.  “Feels so fucking good,” Jake moaned, “you’re gripping me so tightly—fuck!—gonna make me cum, princess.” Falling forward, he braced himself on one arm, reaching for your puffy clit with the other. He rubbed fast cirlces on your clit as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin turning you on more. You willed yourself to keep your eyes open, to bask in the sight of Jake slowly losing control of his movements as he got closer to his own release.

The sight of him hunched over you, eyes glassy as he furrowed his brows in concentration, beads of sweat dripping from his hairline, causing his blond hair to stick to his forehead, was so fucking hot. You gripped at his arms, muscles bulging as he struggled to keep himself up.

You felt an orgasm fast approaching, your own whines coming out higher and higher. “Fu—ck, Jake,” you swore, “I’m so close, please, I—”

At your words, Jake’s hips moved faster, hitting the spot that made you see stars over and over again. “You look so beautiful like this,” he uttered breathlessly. “Fuck, I love you.” The words spilled from his lips unintentionally, the way your walls clenched around him knocked any sense of thought out of him, his only coherent thought being to make you cream around his cock.

His words echoed in your brain as you came with a cry of his name. The feeling of you cumming sent Jake into overdrive as he pistoned into you, overstimulating you as he chased his release. After a moment, he stilled, coming inside of your cavern. You felt his release paint your walls white, bringing you into a second orgasm.

He stayed inside you for a while, hovering over your tired body as he caught his breath. Eventually, he pulled out, his cum spilling from your clenching hole, making him sigh in pleasure at the sight. He kissed your temple before moving to get off the bed. You watched, spent, as he searched for his shirt in the dark, the hallway light dimly illuminating the room. For a second, you were scared that he was just going to go back to his own room, but after he found the shirt, he came back to your side. Wordlessly, he wiped you clean, even wiping at the beads of sweat that accumulated on your skin.

Tired, he let himself collapse beside you, pulling you against his chest.

“Did you mean it?” you asked in a small voice.

“Hmm?”

“When… When you said you loved me.”

You felt him tense under you for a second before relaxing. His arms held you tighter against his chest, letting you listen to his rapid heartbeat.

“Yeah.” He paused, the cogs in his brain turning as he searched for the right words to say. Nothing he came up with seemed right; he opted to stay silent and waited for your response. When it didn’t come, he looked down at you, only to be met with your sleeping face. He sighed, his breath shaky as his eyes burned. He pressed a single kiss on the crown of your head. “Good night, sweets.”

THREE HOURS.

Chaewon had been spamming your phone, the distinct buzzing of each message waking you up. Jake slept through the sound of you typing, exhausted from the night before.

Where are you???? Get your ass here NOW before I come and get you myself

Are you even awake? 

Girl, if you’re not here in the next hour I’ll punt you into the next century

Swearing, you carefully slipped out of Jake’s grasp. When he didn’t stir, you shook him gently. He mumbled incoherently, wrapping his arms around your middle as he deeply inhaled your scent. “Jake, we gotta’ wake up now. Chaewon’s having a cow and I don’t think we want to upset the bride today.”

At your words, Jake murmured something you couldn’t hear before finally peeling himself off you, looking at you with sleepy eyes and messy hair. “Wha’ time isit?” he slurred, stretching his arm.

“It’s twelve, so we have to go. Like, now.”

Thankfully, that seemed to wake Jake up, and he sat up quickly. “Damn, okay,” he pushed his hair back. “Get changed and everything, and I’ll meet you at the door.”

You watched as he leaped off the bed, picking up his soiled clothes from the floor. He made his way to his own room, and you heard the shower turn on. In the time it took for you to brush your teeth and get changed, Jake had showered and hastily shoved on some comfy clothes, his attire being left with Heeseung as well.

The drive to the hotel where the bridal and groom's parties were getting ready was quiet, partially from sleepiness and partially because of the unfinished conversation from last night, filling the air with thick tension. His hand rested on the middle console, palm up, but you didn’t take it.

When you got to the hotel, you were quickly ushered to your respective rooms by other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Jake could only watch as you disappeared behind a room door before getting shoved into one himself.

He didn’t see you again until later, when the wedding was about to start, and the pairs were meant to walk down the aisle. Since you were Chaewon’s maid of honour and Jake was Heeseung’s best man, you were paired together. When you finally saw him, you felt the air leave your lungs. His hair was styled so it was out of his face, save for a few strands that hooked over his forehead. His suit was entirely dark blue, from his blazer to his tie, and it made him look unfairly handsome.

Your mouth felt dry as you linked arms with him, listening for your cue to walk.

Unbeknownst to you, he felt similar. You looked stunning in your baby blue satin dress, and he thought it hugged your curves in such a way that he almost wanted to cover you up so only he could see you like this. His heart pounded in his chest at your touch. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you waited, making the couples behind you snicker. You blushed, your face warming as you rubbed your lips together anxiously.

“As do you,” you mumbled, looking into his eyes shyly. “You look really good.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the doors opened up, and that was your cue. The venue was gorgeous, as expected since Chaewon planned most of it. The sight of the aisle and the altar made your heart soar for her, and you absentmindedly rubbed at your own ring finger the closer you and Jake got to the end of the aisle.

You sent him a smile before you retreated to your respective spots. As the rest of the couples and the flower girl made their way down the aisle, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on Jake. You wondered how you looked, staring over at the best man when there were so many things you should’ve been paying attention to.

Clearing your throat, you looked forward.

When you finally saw Heeseung, your heart clenched. You fisted the fabric of your dress as you watched him wait for his bride-to-be. This motion didn’t go unseen by Jake, whose jaw clenched.

When Chaewon appeared from behind the door, the room erupted into cheers as everyone stood. Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched your cousin, veiled, take small steps closer to her future husband. You knew your makeup was going to be ruined by the end of the night, but you couldn’t help but cry once she reached Heeseung. You glanced at him once more before staring down at your heeled feet.

The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch, Chaewon and Heeseung’s beautiful vows leaving everyone in tears. You had even caught Jake wiping away some stray tears. You watched with a sense of longing as Chaewon and Heeseung made their way down the aisle. You didn’t realize that Jake had been staring at you the whole time, not even when it was your turn to walk out.

The banquet was to start half an hour later. You and Jake had gotten separated in the commotion outside of the venue hall. You heard him call out to you, but you couldn’t see him over the large, bustling crowd of wedding guests. Knowing that you’d see him at the banquet, you slipped further into the crowd until you found a balcony. Peaking your head out, you let out a breath of relief when there was no one there.

The sun was setting, casting an orange hue over everything it touched. A beautiful sight, you thought as you leaned against the railing. You closed your eyes as you thought back on the wedding. It had been the exact wedding the Chaewon had planned years ago, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to be truly happy. How could you, after all, after watching Heeseung look at Chaewon with such love and adoration? 

When someone called your name, you turned around to see Jake standing there, slightly unkempt from the crowd. “I finally found you,” he heaved, gesturing back to the hall that was still full of busy wedding goers. “Man, the banquet is literally in the room over from the wedding hall—they couldn’t be a little more patient in moving over?” He shook his head in mock disbelief as he joined you.

He looked at you, ready to make a joke, but paused when he saw your face. His smile dropped as he turned to face you fully. “You’re crying,” he noted, cupping your cheek. You blinked in surprise, having not noticed how tears had welled up in your eyes. “What’s wrong, sweets?”

You turned around, pulling your face out of his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I don’t know,” you murmured, voice breaking. “I just… when I saw them—”

“Is it Heeseung?”

His cold, clipped tone shocked you. When you looked at him in confusion, his expression had hardened. “What—”

“Why does seeing him with her still hurt you? I thought you were fine,” his words were level, but you heard the slight tremble of his voice.”You said you moved on.” 

Sputtering, you turned to him with an indignant glare. “Jake, it’s not that easy—”

Scoffing, he took a step back from you. “So what? The last two weeks meant nothing to you? Last night meant nothing to you? I…” He gripped at his hair, stressed. “I told you I loved you, and you’re still crying over Heeseung?”

It dawned on you how he perceived your words, and an unsettling fear grabbed at you as you went to explain yourself. “What? Jake, no, I’m not—”

He gave you no room to speak, interrupting you hastily, words tumbling from his lips as though he had no control of them. “I have always loved you,” he confessed, voice breaking. “Ever since we were kids, for me, it’s always been you. I came to you because I love you. I spent these last two weeks with you because I love you, and I want nothing more than for you to see me as more than a best friend or… or someone who’s convenient for you.” You watched in horror as his eyes watered, stepping forward to grab his arm to explain, but he ripped his arm away from your grasp. “I can see now that you never will.”

“Jake, wait—!” Your cry fell on empty ears as he turned to leave you alone on the balcony, his back feeling unreachable as he reached for the doorknob to go back inside. At this point, the crowd in the hall had dispersed, and you were sure the banquet was starting. But none of that mattered—what mattered was stopping Jake from leaving before you could tell him the truth.

Swallowing your fears, you called out his full name. You sighed in relief when he paused, but your hands shook at your sides as you forced your next words out. “He made me feel like I was unlovable,” you uttered, voice just barely above a whisper. For a second, you were worried he hadn’t heard you, but he turned his head slightly. Finding the courage to continue, you stepped forward. “I’m not… I don’t love Heeseung, Jake. I haven’t loved Heeseung for a really fucking long time.”

But what happened between us gave me all of these terrible thoughts that I didn’t…. That I don’t know how to handle. I thought I was perfectly fine dealing with my insecurities on my own before you came.” He turn his head more, allowing you to see his profile. You saw him open his mouth, ready to retort, but you narrowed your eyes at him. “Sim Jaeyun, if you interrupt me again, I’ll kick your ass.” Your threat wasn’t all that threatening, considering the fact that you were near to tears, but he listened and shut his mouth.

“When you showed up at my apartment, I thought I was going mad. You made me feel like that. It was suddenly so different between us and I didn’t know what to do. You kept saying these things like you were trying to fluster me, and I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine or if my fucked up mind was just creating scenarios where you might actually love me.” Tears were freely falling now, smudging your eye makeup and leaving its trail in your foundation. You stepped closer to Jake, who had fully turned to face you. You stopped, leaving a few meters between you as if you were scared of crossing an invisible boundary.

“Last night was the best night of my life. And every time before that, you made me feel complete and made me so happy, Jake. You made me feel… normal. It felt like I was myself again for the first time in months, but there was something else there, too.” You looked into his eyes, unable to tell what he was thinking. You swallowed thickly, “I don’t love Heeseung, and you’re a fool if you think I do. But it’s so fucking hard to shake off the feeling that at any point you could find someone better, someone who’s prettier, or—”

Jake was quick to close the distance between you, his lips downturned into a scowl as he glowered at you. “Just shut up already,” he spat, cupping your face in his hands and bringing his lips to yours. You felt a thousand times lighter as you kissed him back with the same fervour as him, your tears mixing into the kiss. He dropped a hand to rest on your hip, bringing you flush against him. Once he pulled away, you were both breathless. He rested his forehead against yours as his shoulders rose and fell quickly.

When he finally opened his eyes, gone was the pain and hurt. Now, when he looked at you, he looked with adoring eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. “You might not believe me yet, but just know that whenever I look at you, all I see is the person I want to spend my life with. There isn’t anyone better or prettier—there’s only you.”

He met your eyes before kissing you again. 

You looked into his eyes once you pulled away, a thousand thoughts swirling behind your irises. “I love you,” you breathed out. You reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers together as you smiled tearfully at him. “Help me believe you.”

Jake laughed in disbelief, bringing you close to his chest.

“We have all the time in the world to get there, sweets.”

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[jaythes1mp]

1224 words, 7239 characters, 54 sentences, 27 paragraphs, 4.9 pages. Tag list: @zero-s-tea @chemicalsandghosts @yandere-enthusiast @starsdotalk @small-mushroom-fae

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

You had always had a vague understanding that your biological father was well-off, as he would consistently transfer a substantial amount of cash to that woman each month. However, while you were fortunate enough to not have grown up in the most deprived area of Gotham, it didn't necessarily mean that you had lived in the lap of luxury either.

Despite the knowledge that your father was wealthy, you had still scraped by in a small, cramped apartment, constantly relying on his financial support and night jobs to survive. You supposed that your situation could have been worse, but it didn't make the reality any more bearable. You often wondered what it would be like to live in a well-appointed home and never worry about money, but those thoughts were quickly thrusted aside and squashed down by the woman’s polished heel. Every time, the woman’s sharp words brought you back to reality.

You hadn’t deserved that life. She would remind you time and time again.

You grimace, the thought of your mother, or rather, that woman, entering your consciousness disgusting you. You weren't sure if she'd ever truly earn the title of 'mother.'

It wasn't until you reached the age of eleven that you become painfully aware that not every child had to desperately plead with their mother for food, and that it wasn't normal for parents to hold their kids needs over their own heads.

It had become abundantly clear to you from a young age that the woman was never truly interested in motherhood and had only kept you out of a slim chance that one of the men she had whored herself out to would be wealthy. She targeted men at lavish galas, her sole purpose for going being to hook up with them in exchange for large amounts of money. They usually sent nondisclosure agreements along with the cash, ensuring her continued wealth. However, your existence disrupted her carefree lifestyle. ‘It was perfect, until you came along.’ She’d say.

She had exploited Bruce Wayne for money. Getting him drunk with enough press around to stress about his ‘playboy image’ to bed her. Afterwards, she demanded a large sum of money, and he gave it to her without a second thought. He hadn’t even fully read over the details. Just signing up for a wire transfer to her account every month for the next few years. He hadn’t even been aware of you.

Too preoccupied with training the young Robin to even be aware of your birth.

Throughout your life, the woman had consistently manipulated the truth, spinning a tale in which it was your fault that your father had ‘left.’ And, despite your reservations, a small part of you still believed her words.

She had carefully cultivated your sense of guilt, instilling the belief that your very existence had driven your father away. Her venomous words and manipulative behavior had left deep emotional scars, convincing you that you were unworthy of a loving father's affection. Or rather, anyone’s affection.

That day, when you turned sixteen, was the day that woman unceremoniously ushered you out of her home. Clothes and any belongings that she didn't deem worthy enough to sell for a few hundred dollars were carelessly thrown out into the hallway. By the time you made it back from work, most of your belongings had already been looted by the other tenants and homeless kids who roamed the building.

With a mixture of desperation and hope, you had gathered the few remaining possessions that you could salvage, cramming them into your work bag. Your fingers had trembled slightly as you dug out your old, cracked phone. Desperation clawed at your chest as you dialed her number and slammed your fist against the door.

You hadn’t been surprised when your repeated calls went unanswered. Frustration and anger boiled within you, mingled with a pang of hurt and despair. Deep down, you knew it was futile to even attempt to break down the door, as that would only result in consequences that you were unwilling to face.

With a steely determination, you forced back the tears that threatened to overwhelm you, walking to the nearest bank with a firm resolve. You withdrew every penny you had painstakingly saved over the past two years and closed the account, ensuring she could no longer access any of your hard-earned money.

Armed with the few thousand dollars you had managed to retrieve, you began a desperate search for someone, anyone, who would be willing to offer you a roof over your head. Despair gripped your heart as you realized how limited your options truly were.

At that point, the members of the Batfamily had been cognisant of your existence for about a year. Bruce having taken a DNA test for Alfred’s medical examination. Yet, despite their general awareness of your presence, it seemed they had made no direct attempt to reach out or provide assistance. On the surface, your life appeared stable. You resided with a supportive parent, attended school, and held down a job. From all outward appearances, there didn't seem to be anything particularly noteworthy or concerning about your circumstances.

But they were detectives. One would expect them to possess keen eyes for details, especially when it came to the nuances and subtle signs that might indicate something amiss. Yet, they had missed the marks, failing to acknowledge the more subtle indications of your turmoil.

Jason discovered you the morning after you had been cruelly cast out from your home. You were found sleeping outside, your weary head nestled against your overstuffed work bag. Wearing an old, frayed sweater for a makeshift blanket.

Typically, he wouldn't have paused to take note of a sight akin to this. He was all too gruesomely acquainted with the sight of homeless, neglected children on the streets. But as his gaze fell upon you, there was an unsettling sense of familiarity that snagged his attention.

The question nagged him persistently, scratching at his consciousness like an untamed itch. Where had he come across you before?

Then, suddenly, recognition flashed across his mind. You were the same child Damian had fixated upon just over a year ago. The demon spawns little obsession.

He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Why on earth were you on the streets? It was blatantly obvious that it wasn’t a safe environment for anyone, let alone you. The mere notion of the young Wayne finding out that his blood kin was unhoused would undoubtedly send the typically stoic demon into a frenzy.

He let out a resigned sigh, leaning down to gently nudge your huddled form. His sharp, calculating grey eyes roved over your slumbering figure, taking in every minute detail with a sense of keen observation.

You stirred at the touch, groggily lifting your head from your overstuffed bag. Your bleary eyes slowly peeled open, blinking owlishly in the early morning light. Confusion and exhaustion mingled in your expression as you caught sight of Jason crouched down in front of you.

That was the day your life began to intertwine with the tightly woven web of the Wayne family. From that very moment, you became ensnared within the complex and sometimes suffocating grip of the Wayne's protective and possessive nature.

No use of y/n, no use of any descriptive features for the reader, no gender mentioned.

Shorter than usual, but more of a dive into the reader’s backstory.

Comments, asks, and reblogs are very appreciated! Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Sixteen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Lucien Vanserra could kill me and I would be honored. Cannon typical violence. Some angst. Lots of fun

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Lucien stood in disbelief, mouth opening and closing. Words stuck in his throat.  

You knew as his eyes roamed over your features that he was hunting for some mark of Helion’s that you’d inherited, whether it be the set of your eyes, the curve of your jaw, the slope of your nose, or even the tilt of your sharp ears. But he came up empty. Whatever features you did share with Helion could have easily been shared by two strangers. It was how you’d gotten away with working with him at the Day Court and attending balls by his side. 

But there were some things that went deeper than skin and bones. He could barely make it out in the hum of your power and the faint, charming glow in your eyes. It was something that spoke of warmth and sparkling intellect. A sliver of the sun given form. 

You were Helion’s daughter. 

You were… you were his sister.

You cleared your throat and looked away. “I understand this must be a surprise. Perhaps not the kind of surprise you were hoping for.” 

“You’re my sister,” Lucien finally breathed out, and the wind, so harsh and biting before, ceased.

“Half-sister… technically.” 

“I don’t go by halves.” 

The sharp, sudden rush of cold air into your lungs had you shivering. Lucien noticed and without thinking he reached out with his power, wrapping heat around your body until you may as well have been perched in front of a roaring fire. His magic smelled like woodsmoke and balsam.

“You’re my sister.” He repeated the phrase a few more times, finding it more believable with each swirl of the words around his tongue. 

Elain had known this was coming and had given him a cryptic warning, but that did nothing to lessen the excitement spreading in his chest with each passing second. 

You watched him wearily, hands clasped over your body and eyes furrowed, like you couldn’t tell if he was upset. Which was ridiculous. How could Lucien ever be upset by this?

“You’re my sister!” 

A sharp laugh exited his body that grew and grew until you felt like you were floating on the waves of his happiness. He rushed forward, hoisting you in the air and spinning you around like you weighed nothing. Wind rushed past your ears as the world blurred. 

He gently deposited you back on solid ground.

“How old are you? How long have you known about Helion? Where have you been all this time?” He asked the questions in rapid succession, heart hammering away in his chest. 

He had a sister. A sister. 

“I’m three hundred and forty-three.”

He smiled. He’d always wanted a younger sibling. A younger sister to be exact that he could teach to fight and hunt and ride with more support than he’d ever been afforded. 

“I’ve known about Helion since I was little.” Lucien’s smile slipped at that revelation. “And I’ve been in the Day Court in one of the athenaeums. It was my home up until the point where Koschei burned down my house and I got saddled with Beth’s book. I’ve been here ever since. Although I never expected for any of this—” You gestured vaguely at the House, the sky, at Lucien, “to happen. Not that I’m upset!” You added quickly. 

“What was it like? Growing up in the Day Court?” He looked you up and down again, searching for scars or broken bones that had never healed right. But from what he could tell, you were whole. 

He clenched his fists tightly until you answered.

“It was safe. Lonely, but safe.” 

“Good.” He breathed out in relief. “Good.” 

Azriel watched everything from the deck that wrapped around the back of the house. The wind carried the tang of salt, opening his lungs and easing the pain in his chest that wrapped around him like a vice. He kept his wings pulled in tight and hands clasped behind his back. He was a slice in the fabric of the universe, unmoving and still. 

And he missed you. Gods did he miss you. 

“We shouldn’t stand so close,” Azriel murmured. 

His voice was ragged, filled with more gravel than the walkway that snaked through Elain’s garden. Weighed down with secrets that felt more like anvils. 

Elain dropped the empty bucket onto the deck followed by the clang of her spade. The shovel lay discarded in the field, the ground marked by neat lines of overturned earth. She cupped her hands and blew into them, breathing life back into her stiff fingers. 

Twenty minutes ago he’d seen you run beneath his window, racing towards the Sidra with your robes hiked up to your knees so you could try and keep up with Lucien’s long strides as he pulled you along by your hand, red hair streaming behind him like a bundle of ribbons. 

You’d been calling out for him to slow down, your voice loud and breathless.

And after everything that had happened, the things he’d seen, he couldn’t stop himself from walking down to the deck to watch you. 

Now you stood at the water’s edge with your hands outstretched, dutifully holding onto every stone that Lucien plucked from the river. Your head tipped to the side in curiosity.

His childhood in Autumn had not been kind, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been happy moments sprinkled in amongst the sorrow. There in the woods with bejeweled treetops and diamond glass rivers he’d learned how to swim and fish and hunt. He’d wrestled with his brothers, fallen in love, and gained the confidence and freedom to eventually travel the Courts and make his own way in the world. 

But you’d been lonely your whole life. Trapped indoors with nothing but your books for company. You’d never learned how to swim. You’d never dug through the soil for slimy worms to go fishing. You’d never fallen asleep beneath a glittering sky, fire smoke curling in the air and the taste of chestnuts lingering on your tongue and filling your belly. 

It had been a different kind of sorrow, but no less real. 

Lucien aimed to change some of that. Your mere presence beside him, as hesitant as it was, filled him with a happiness he couldn’t name. 

He had his trousers rolled up to his thighs revealing powerful legs and freckled, caramel-brown skin. He didn’t mind the cold waters rolling over his hands as he tracked the riverbed for the smoothest, flattest stones. Every time he looked back you were either watching him or examining each stone with narrowed eyes like you’d find some algorithm carved into their edges that would tell you what made them so special for the task at hand. 

Azriel couldn’t hear what you two were saying, and he didn’t send his shadows out to investigate, but soon you were tugging off your boots, then your socks, and tying the long length of your robes around your waist. You gingerly dipped your toes into the river and immediately leapt back. 

Lucien’s laugh rolled over the earth, full of warmth and joy. He was grinning so wide Azriel could see the whites of his teeth and his shaking shoulders.

Inch by inch you walked into the river up to your calves and Lucien dunked his cupped hands into the cold water. 

“Don’t you dare! Lucien!” 

Then you were shaking your head, slapping Lucien’s hands away with a shout when he tossed the water at your face, and threatening to launch the black stones back into the river for him to fetch. Your toes were already starting to go numb.

Azriel’s heart gave a painful lurch, even as he smiled softly at the sight of you. 

“I don’t… I don’t want to give them the wrong idea.” Azriel swallowed and turned his gaze down to where a plump sparrow was digging around in the grasses. 

Elain ignored him, dropping her arms onto the wooden railing and staring out. She let out a lovely, longing sigh and Azriel just knew she was strumming the bond within her chest to feel Lucien on the other side. 

The red-haired male looked up to meet her gaze and smiled softly. You also looked up, and then immediately looked away with rosy cheeks.

“Lucien knows where I stand. He… he’s finally beginning to trust me again.” 

He’d been so eager to give her his heart the first time around, and she’d crushed it beneath her dainty shoes, too angry at the life that had been torn away to look at the one she’d been given. This time around she was determined to earn Lucien’s love, no matter how easy he made it for her. No matter how many times he told her it wasn’t something that had ever needed to be earned.

“It took some time to gain that back.” She shifted. “But then again, we were lucky. We knew what we were to each other. You still haven’t told Y/n you’re mates.” 

“You know about that?”

Elain rolled her eyes as if the answer were obvious, because it was. 

“I don’t think I can tell her, Elain.” 

“And why not?” 

Azriel hesitated. 

Here was a truth he hadn’t been able to express to his brothers — the truth they didn’t understand: They were good, decent males, and when it had come to their mating bonds they’d treated them with the respect they deserved. They’d been patient. They’d never tried to force a hand that wasn’t theirs. 

But Azriel was… wrong. In so many ways he was wrong. 

He either waited too long or he moved without thinking. He fell into obsession like a starling with clipped wings. He scrounged for scraps of affection where he wasn’t supposed to and brooded when it inevitably blew up in his face. He’d been trying to take his time with you. He’d been trying to do it right. He was… 

He was already in love with you. 

He’d been in love with you for some time now.

Elain smiled, still staring towards the river. 

She had loved Azriel once. Not in the way she loved Lucien and not in a way that had been good for them, but still it had been love of some kind. She could feel the waves rolling off his body as he came to his quiet realization, and it felt very different from the way he’d felt about her and very similar to the way she felt about Lucien. 

“I love her, Elain.” He whispered the words like they were fragile as spun sugar, ready to dissolve the moment they left his lips. 

“She’ll say yes to the bond. I’ve seen it.”

Azriel let out a broken, strangled noise and looked at Elain, begging for more. “Even after—”

“Yes. Even after what that boy made you do. Even after what she learned when she touched your hand.” She looked down at Azriel’s hands, leather gloves worn and supple. She gave them a squeeze. “A year ago I had a vision of a white bird flying out of the sun with a golden ribbon tied to one of its feathers. Its wings were dipped in ink so she could leave a trail along the ground for a beast of shadow to follow.” 

Azriel went still as death. “And then what happened?” 

Elain looked up at him, eyes glittering. “She flew to the base of a mountain, laid down, and has been waiting ever since. She’s been waiting for you. For someone who understands what it means to be lonely and what it’s like to hope for more.” 

And Azriel did exactly that. He hoped for more. 

More time with you. More unrestrained touches. More midnight conversations until your eyes were threatening to shut. 

Something changed then. Elain’s brown, doe eyes turned misty and flat. Her voice dropped and the hand she reached out to grab hold of his arm was cold as ice. 

“You need to be careful, Az,” she warned. “Don’t let her go into the mirror. She may not come out.” She clawed at his arms. “Az, you need to be careful. The mirror…” 

He gripped her shoulders, stabilizing her as she swayed on her feet. 

“Elain, what—” But her vision was already gone. No matter how hard she tried to hold on it was like trying to keep water in a cracked cup. 

Lucien kept his arm perfectly parallel with the earth, drew back, and snapped his wrist at the last second. The stone flew out over the glassy river and kept kissing the surface in weakening arches before it was eventually swallowed up in a dollop of salt. 

“Eight.” 

Lucien looked at you incredulously. “I counted nine.” 

“Eight skips,” you argued. “Males always overestimate.” 

“And what experience do you have with males?”

None. Except for that one glorious day you’d clung to Azriel like the world was finally peaceful. It was nowhere near the level of experience you suspected Lucien must have after centuries spent bouncing around from Court to Court. Nowhere near the level of experience Azriel or the others had when it came to touch. 

You bristled. “Enough.” 

Lucien smirked like he knew you were lying and held out his hand for another stone. Soon it too was lost to the river. 

“How many this time?” 

You twisted your lips to the side, but had to admit, “Nine.”

He was grinning. 

“Come on.” He held out his hand for you, beckoning you deeper into the river. “Your turn. Just like I showed you.”

“This is a terrible idea.” 

“Come on!”

“I will kill a fish, Lucien.” 

There was a playful roll of his eyes. “Y/n—”

“I’ll end up throwing a rock so hard into the water I’ll give an innocent, unsuspecting fish brain damage.” So what if you were being melodramatic. That did nothing to counter the fact that your hand-eye coordination was shit. 

“Y/n, you’ll be fine. I promise.” 

Wrong.

You were gods awful at this. 

You tried your best to mimic the bend of Lucien’s spine as he let go of his stone, tried to mimic the way he curled his fingers against its rounded edges. But every single one of your throws was either too strong or too weak. Too high or too low. 

You chucked the last rock in your hand but the spin on it — or rather lack thereof — was abysmal. It plopped into the river three yards away with a splash. 

Lucien chuckled, shaking his head as you stomped back onto the beach, swearing with every step as your robes dragged through the water behind you. 

You whirled around and kicked up river water in his direction. 

“Stop laughing!” A smile tugged at your lips even as you said that. 

“You’re doing very well!” 

“Don’t be condescending.”

“I’m not!”

 “I didn’t grow up in the backwoods of Autumn. I’ve never done this before,” you grumbled, your words tinged with embarrassment. 

And thank the Mother you hadn’t. Yes, Lucien had always wanted a sister, but he flinched just to think of the horrors you would have faced if you’d both shared a mother instead of a father. The ways Beron would have bent you until you broke, especially as a female. Sold to the highest bidder and forced to have as many children as possible. A high-end, noble-blooded breeder.

Suddenly he wasn’t laughing anymore. The smile slipped off his bright face. 

You stiffened. Some of the scars on Lucien’s body took on new meaning. 

“I’m sorry, Lucien,” you said. The fun of the afternoon, as embarrassing as it had been for you, fell away. “I wasn’t thinking.” 

You’d only heard whispers of the way Beron treated his children. Which could only mean that they’d endured infinitely worse. 

Lucien shook his head and more of his scarlet hair came tumbling out of his braid. He looked so much like Helion in the sun that you were surprised more people didn’t know. They had the same strong noses, the same build with their tapered waists and strong legs. They even had the same dimple on their left cheeks. 

But maybe Beron and his brothers had known, or at least suspected that he was different, and that had added to Lucien’s torment.

“Maybe one day you could show me though,” you asked hopefully when the silence was on the verge of becoming too loud, “I’ve never been to Autumn — I’ve not been to most places, actually — but I’d like to see it. I could show you the Day Court too.” 

He shook his head slowly, rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think that would be a good idea — visiting the Day Court.” 

That was the issue you’d been tiptoeing around the last two hours. You both knew about Helion, but he was only aware of your existence, not Lucien’s. And it was one thing for you to be revealed as Helion’s daughter — there’d be gossip, attempts on your life, and countless marriage proposals. 

But for Lucien? He’d suddenly find himself face to face with the weight of a crown and an entire Court on his shoulders. You wouldn’t blame him for trying to avoid that fate.

Still, you couldn’t help but ask, “Lucien… Why haven’t you told Helion yet? Beron’s been dead for years now, and I’ve heard only good things about Eris. That he’s honest and fair. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’d punish you if you claimed your right to Helion’s Court.”

His bright eyes turned bitter, all laughter disappearing. He dipped his hand into the river, picked up a rock, and chucked it back in. Its edges were too ragged anyway. 

“What makes you think he doesn’t already know?” 

You straightened up as if the answer were obvious. “Trust me, he doesn’t know. If he knew you were his son, he would have found ways to see you grow up. We might have even grown up together.”

 It was a pathetic daydream, but one you’d been thinking about. 

“You’re wrong!” 

The outburst was so sudden, so unlike the Lucien everyone else spoke of that you had to take a few steps back. Smoke rose from his clenched fists and his skin pulsed, glowing with an inner light like he was more ember than fae. 

He blinked rapidly then swore, brushing his salt-stiffened hair back. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, but…” He shook his head. “He wouldn’t have come. He didn’t come. He just left me and my mother there with that monster. He must have known what it was like — the things he did to her and the rest of us — but he never showed up. Not for my mother. Not for me.” 

“He didn’t know.” 

You repeated those words with the same conviction you had for everything else you knew to be true. You stepped closer and with the slope of the beach you could face him eye-to-eye. 

“Do you want to know how I know? My mother wanted nothing to do with him when she found out she was pregnant. He had to hear it from one of the healers.  And when I was born she forbade him from visiting, forbade him from even laying eyes on me, but he couldn’t stay away. He found ways to be in my life and protected me as best he could, and when Mom died and I was left on my own, he gave me projects with purpose so I wouldn’t crumble into nothing.” You stabbed your finger against your chest. “He did that for me. Is he a great father? Absolutely not. Is he a decent father? Maybe? Probably not, he wasn’t there most of the time. But he’s trying. I know it’s not the same and we’re still strangers and I understand if you don’t forgive him for abandoning your mother — I wouldn’t — but he would have gone for you.” 

You were breathing hard now. Lucien just stared with shiny eyes and unclenched fists. 

“And I think after everything you’ve been through, you deserve to know what it’s like to have a father who at least tries.” 

The world was too small right now. It was too big. The Sidra had soaked through your skin and your robes were growing heavier and heavier by the second, weighed down by salt water and time. 

“Would you at least consider telling him? Please?” 

Because another pathetic daydream you’d been thinking of recently was that one day it might be you and Helion and Lucien. An imperfect family, but a family nevertheless. That you might not feel so alone anymore. 

Lucien’s throat bobbed and he turned away from you long enough for the crisp wind to dry his tears. 

“Take off your robes. They must be soaked by now. I’ll make sure you don’t go cold.'” His voice was strangled. He cleared his throat. “And I’ll look for more stones. No sister of mine is going to go through life without learning how to skip stones.” 

He threw that word around so casually — sister — like saying it over and over again would somehow make the hundreds of years you’d both spent on your own disappear. 

Clouds gathered steadily overhead painting the world with a wash of grey. But that did nothing to diminish the faint light that emanated from you and Lucien as you waded through the shallows and finally learned to skip stones. Lucien whooped, red hair streaming behind him, and you smiled as your last stone skipped twice over the river before disappearing beneath the surface. 

You leaned back in the tall, dying grasses and sipped on the cardamom tea Elain brought down from the House, listening to the many stories Lucien had gathered over centuries spent traversing Prythian and the Human Lands. You told him about The Alcove, Cherp, your mother, and the books you read, and he listened like it was the most epic tale he’d heard in his entire life. 

Sometimes you both went quiet. It was sobering to think about what you’d both endured alone without your true family. But still… it was good to have one another now. 

When you walked into the packed dining room — barefoot, salt-stained, and rosy from the cold — Lucien pulled out the seat next to him for you, surprising the grey Ione.

Elain dropped gracefully into the chair across from her mate, a knowing smile on her face. 

“Good day?” 

You and Lucien glanced at one another. His golden eye whirred and his russet eye gleamed mischievously. 

You folded your arms over your chest, forcing down the smile that threatened to make its appearance. “The worst.” 

“You’re just upset because you lost,” Lucien teased, casually draping his arm over your shoulder. 

“It was hardly a fair competition. You must have — what? — five-hundred years of experience against me?”

He clasped a hand over his chest. “You wound me, sister. Although, if you must know, I’m four hundred and seventeen.” 

“I’m surprised you’re not a sack of bones on the floor.” 

“I’m not that old.”

“I think I see a few grey hairs here and there.” 

Lucien scoffed, but everyone noticed when he absentmindedly touched his long red locks as the last of the dinner plates materialized on the table. Feyre reached over from beside Lucien and squeezed his hand tightly under the table. 

It wasn’t the drop of Helion’s magic that caused The High Lady’s eyes to glow so brightly. She was just happy. Lucien squeezed her hand back even tighter. 

Azriel was the last to arrive, appearing in the hallway in a swath of shadows like he was stepping out of one of your dreams. He must have flown home today. Mist gathered into droplets that clung to his skin and hair and eyelashes like a thousand diamonds. Not even the faint shadows beneath his eyes could distract from his beauty, and you felt that familiar wash of comfort flow over your body when you caught his scent. 

There was only one available seat left at the table. The one directly across from you and Lucien… and right next to Elain. 

Your stomach dropped. 

The seating arrangement was truly a horrible coincidence. One that no one seemed to recognize until it was too late and Azriel’s chair was screeching over the wooden floor. Both he and Elain shifted in their seats, quietly pulling them further apart. It should have made you feel better that Azriel was trying so hard to distance himself from Elain, but the only thing it emphasized was that they’d used to be so close. 

Cassian looked over nervously at his brother, but Azriel was as impassive as always. The room fell into uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by the sounds of chewing and the clinking of silverware. If the House was a person, they would be sweating buckets. 

Cassian coughed and sipped his wine. “So… lovely weather we’re having.” 

Lightning cracked across the darkened sky, followed by rain that began plummeting to the earth in heavy sheets. 

Rhysand leaned over and smacked his brother on the back of his head and Cassian couldn’t even feign annoyance at that. 

“You never fail to have incredible timing, Cassian.” Lucien drank his wine deeply and some of the tension seemed to lift from the table when everyone noticed how happy he still was. The terrible things in the world had not lessened, but Lucien felt lighter than he had in decades.

In proper Helion fashion, he kept the pleasant conversation spinning over the table, ensnaring you with the stories he tossed back and forth with Feyre. 

“How was I supposed to know you’d be crazy enough to try and capture a Suriel?”

“What? Like it was meant to be difficult?”

Lucien smirked and crossed his arms. “Beginner’s luck.”

“What were the second and third times then?” 

“The Suriel being a terrible busybody who was bored and wanted to spill gossip.” 

Feyre flipped him off and he winked in return. 

Azriel did what he always did and sat still and quiet as a mouse, eyes tracing over the flow of conversation like he knew who would speak before they’d even opened their mouths. But his eyes kept lingering on you, a smile tugging at his lips whenever one grew on yours. 

Lucien noticed it the third time it happened. Then the fourth. Then the fifth. Until he found himself watching the Shadowsinger almost as intensely as Azriel was watching you. 

His grip tightened around his silverware. 

“I am not nearly as uptight as Gwyn says I am,” you muttered, pushing around the potatoes on your plate. 

You’d sunk into your seat when, to your embarrassment, the conversation had steered in your direction. Azriel had been the one to do it, casually dropping a comment about how much time you spent in Cagniv Library and the ways in which you’d already influenced the priestesses who operated there. It was the first thing he’d said all day. 

“You made a fifth year apprentice cry.”

“That’s a lie, Nesta, and you know it.” 

Nesta did know it, but you’d been so quiet the past few weeks. She wanted to poke fun if only to make you smile. 

“Fine, that was an exaggeration. But you interrogated Farrah like she was a war criminal. Azriel would have been impressed.” 

“She’s the only expert on Cyerion Age Bauldish folklore and she was missing half the citations for her thesis! It took me ages to track down some of her sources.”

“She can’t cite a book that’s over 2,000 years old with no identifiable author. Or title. Or publishing date.” 

You grumbled under your breath. Something about, “Your library gives me anxiety” and “You’re making me look bad in front of Lucien.”

“Hmmm? Sorry?” Lucien tore his eyes away from where one of Azriel’s shadows had slid under the table and was now wrapping around the leg of your chair in an effort to gain your attention.  

You shook your head. “Nesta’s just trying to make me look bad.” 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Azriel said softly, so softly he probably hadn’t even meant to say the words aloud. He looked up from his plate, shocked to hear his own voice continue on. “Maybe after this is all done, you could take on the task of reorganizing Cagniv. I’m sure you’d be saving the next Librarian more than a few headaches.”  

Your wide eyes met his across the table and for a brief moment it was like you two were alone and teasing each other over tea in the middle of the night like you used to. Two shadows illuminated by candlelight in a Court that never slept.

You sat up a little straighter. “Is that a challenge?” 

Azriel smiled faintly, “Maybe. Although I’m sure Bryaxis would give you a run for your money.”

You furrowed your brows. “Bryaxis?” 

Rhys smirked, “He’s the resident shadow demon that lives on the bottom floor of Cagniv. He flew down once on a dare and he high-tailed it out of the abyss white as a sheet. He still doesn’t talk about it.”

“Fuck you for bringing that up, Rhys.” Cassian’s hand trembled as he brought his fork up to his lips, “You’ll never let me live that down will you?” 

“You… you have a shadow demon living in your library?” Your face twisted in horror and you slammed your knife down on the table, “Is that why a third of the catalogue is missing from the shelves? I’ve been searching for ages!”

And there it was — that faint twitch of irritation in your eyes that told Azriel you were already contemplating going down to confront Bryaxis yourself. He could imagine how you’d stand there with a hand tucked into your robes, swinging a lantern from the other as you bullied the monster into letting you move the volumes someplace else. How you’d lecture him on the importance of controlling humidity when it comes to parchment preservation, and perhaps how you’d begrudgingly agree that the creature’s darkness had protected the fragile books from light exposure. 

“I knew that’s what you’d focus on,” Azriel said. His voice was deeper than an ocean, and just as full of hidden meaning. He shook his head in disbelief, a small smile gracing his lips. “You just learned you spent months studying with a monster lurking nearby — a monster that has Cassian trembling in the corner—”

“I am not trembling—”

“And you’re not afraid at all. You’re… you’re incredible, Y/n.” 

You pursed your lips, tamping down the delight that threatened to spill over inside of you like champagne bubbles — light and airy and lovestruck. With only a handful of sentences, Azriel had you wishing that everyone else would just leave. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks as Azriel kept looking at you. It was a quiet, intimate undressing without an inch of skin needing to be revealed. 

A tendril of shadow creeped up your arm and tugged your hair. The rest hovered shyly over a bag you recognized as Azriel’s, as if they knew they’d done wrong by ferrying it over from their master’s bedroom. But the timing was so perfect, how could they not? 

With you watching, they tugged open the strings and spilled the contents on the floor. 

To Lucien’s surprise, Azriel’s notorious stone-face went flush with color when he heard the thud of books and realized what his shadows had done. 

“Wait—Y/n—” His chair groaned in protest when he shot to his feet.

But you were already holding them in your hands. 

The Natural Trials and Tribulations of Leonora Bedroot, Three Knocks for A Kiss, and A Touch of Cinnamon. Your favorite books in the entire world. Two copies each. One brand new, and one whose pages were already flared, leather spines lovingly wrinkled. 

Your breath caught in your throat when you flipped through Three Knocks for a Kiss and saw Azriel’s delicate scrawl on every page. Passages had been circled and underlined with his comments left in the margins. Small tabs of paper poked out with more handwritten notes. 

Azriel’s been reading these over and over again for months now. He bought them a week after you came to Velaris because he remembered you liked books that are well loved and full of memory. The nights he couldn’t sleep and dream of you, he’d perch on his windowsill and read until morning came. You’ve given him a peace he’s never known before. 

A kind of peace you thought you’d been alone in feeling. 

The scent of night-chilled mountains and parchment paper filled your nose. 

Azriel bowed his head ever so slightly, eyes focused on your hands now clutching the books like they were gold. 

“I remembered seeing them in your apartment. I was going to give them to you at some point but…” Azriel trailed off, then whispered. “I remember what you told me about your mother reading them to you.” I remember everything you’ve told me. 

“I can keep them?” Your voice was a hush over the room. 

You cradled them protectively against your chest, as if at any moment they’d be torn away from you. You’d been hesitant to buy new copies after the original ones had been burned down in the Alcove. Part of their charm had always been the memories of your mother reading them aloud like they were flowers growing from her lips instead of words, buzzing and honey-laden. The books felt different now, but they still felt like something. They weren’t sterile and blank. They were filled with Azriel and all the good memories he carried with him. Few and far between as they were. 

“They’re yours,” Azriel breathed, “All yours.”  

Lucien looked back and forth between you two, focusing on the blush of your cheeks and the wetness in your eyes and the thinly veiled adoration in Azriel’s face now that you were looking back at him. A sick, knowing feeling had been building inside of him throughout dinner, but he’d repressed it. He couldn’t repress it any longer.

No. Absolutely not. There’s no way. There’s no fucking way.

He let his shock flow through the bond and looked to Elain for confirmation. 

Please tell me I’m wrong. He begged silently. Anyone but him. Literally anyone but him.

They’d yet to accept the bond, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t read each other like an open book. And right now Lucien was doing nothing to hide his seething temper. 

Elain bit her pale, pink lips and nodded, confirming what he already suspected. Then, in a move of silent permission, she slid her chair six inches away from Azriel’s until she was practically sharing a seat with Nesta. 

“Here we go again,” Nesta groaned and looked at Cassian. You want to get her?

Yeah I got her.

You straightened up, pressing the books to your chest in confusion. What had started off as a graciously uneventful dinner had turned into a moment of beauty that you wanted to preserve for a little while longer.  

But everyone around you parted, leaning back in their chairs and pulling glasses of wine off the table before draining them in one long chug. Even Ione held her plate in her hands, popping a tomato in her mouth with interest. Mor looked nervous clutching a sweaty bottle of wine against her chest. Feyre and Rhys looked resigned and Lucien… Lucien looked livid. After all, he owed Azriel for the Blood Duel.

Cassian hoisted you out of your seat with his arms wrapped firmly around your middle and stepped back and out of the way.

Your eyes widened when Lucien stood up, skin rippling with light and power. He calmly rolled back his sleeves revealing muscular, scarred forearms, then took off his rings one by one and dropped them on the table. 

Clink. Clink. Clink. 

He wanted to feel it when he beat the Shadowsinger to a pulp.

Oh… Oh shit. 

“Wait—Lucien!”

Lucien gritted his teeth and launched himself over the table. 

Azriel didn’t flinch. His hazel eyes didn’t even flicker in surprise. In fact, you swore you saw them flutter closed in acceptance. 

In another fight, Azriel might have had the advantage of wings and height, but Lucien had the wider build and the fucking motive. He slammed into the Shadowsinger’s chest and together they disappeared beneath the lip of the table before landing in a sprawl on the floor that knocked the air out of Azriel’s lungs. 

Cassian winced when he heard the first of Lucien’s blows land. 

“Let me go!” You kicked and squirmed in his grip, but you would have had more luck fighting a mountain. “Cassian, what the fuck?!”

“I’m really sorry, Y/n. But even I have to admit he had this coming.” There was another bloody crack. “Oh damn that sounds like it hurt.”

“Honestly, I didn't know he had it in him,” was Nesta’s only comment. Ione moved to stand beside the eldest Archeron sister so she could get a better view, a faintly amused smile on her face. 

“I did,” Elain said simply. That was one of the many things she and Lucien had in common. Their general patience and understanding could only stretch so far before snapping. “Ione, perhaps you should go upstairs.”

The older woman looked offended. “Why? This is the most fun I’ve had in ages. Such drama.”

When Helion had fought Azriel, there’d been an elegance to it — something altogether noble about the event as the two stared each other down as equals. 

This was nothing like that. 

Lucien was pissed and even Azriel had to admit that he really, really deserved this one. 

Lucien’s chest heaved, every blow of his fists against Azriel’s face punctuated by snarling words. 

“First you go after my mate—” Punch. “Then my sister—” Punch. Punch. “Are you—” Punch. “Fucking—” Punch. “Kidding me?!”

The last blow sent Azriel’s head snapping back hard enough to crack the floor tiles. Blood splattered from his nose like a spray of paint lobed at a canvas and Azriel knew from his sudden inability to breath that it was broken. 

“Lucien! Stop it!”

“We just redid the tiles,” Rhysand groaned, rubbing his temples. 

Lucien growled and grabbed Azriel by the front of his leathers, throwing him over and onto the table. The long mahogany table, shiny and expensive as hell, snapped in two with a deafening bang. Silverware flew into the air, catching the light like holiday tinsel. Porcelain plates shattered and Azriel finally groaned in pain from the harsh twisting of his wings. The fearsome Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court could only lay there as green peas rolled down on top of him, gravy sinking into his hair. 

“Not the table too,” Rhys whined. He’d had it specially commissioned for the River House. 

Lucien dragged Azriel off the glorified heap of wood chips before tossing him back onto the floor, fist raised in the air. 

“Alright! That’s enough,” Feyre said with a loud clap of her hands. “If you two want to fight, do it outside. I don’t want anyone breaking my house. Again.” 

The River House sighed in relief. 

Lucien paused just long enough for Rhysand to haul the redhead off his brother with little regard for anyone’s pride. 

“Get off me,” Lucien snapped, shoving Rhys away. “I can’t fucking believe this.” 

When Cassian finally let you down, you rushed over to Azriel’s side, swiping the handkerchief Rhys held out for you as you passed. 

Azriel sat on the floor, face impassive despite the brutal angle of his nose and the blood sprayed over his face and neck. You cradled his face, gently nudging it this way and that as you surveyed the damage. 

“Oh Azriel,” you breathed. 

Bruises bloomed over his cheekbones, muddy as paint water. His right eye was almost swollen shut, and his split lips bled anew when he gave you a tentative smile. 

“Hi,” he murmured reverently, leaning against the palm you cupped beneath his jaw.

Lucien gagged. “Can someone rip my eye out again? Both this time, please?”

“Damnit, Lucien!” You held the handkerchief up to Azriel’s nose, trying to stem the flow of blood before it could continue dripping from his chin. “Don’t be an asshole.” 

“Really, Y/n?! You’re defending him?!”

Azriel wrapped one arm protectively around your waist, eyes narrowed in a glare. With the blood coating his face he looked positively murderous. Like he’d done the beating and not Lucien. 

“Don’t yell at her,” he growled, his voice dangerously low. 

“For fuck’s sake.” 

It had been a momentary outburst — a rare occurrence with Lucien that held no anger towards you. But you still felt the flare of Azriel’s power as shadows wrapped around you in a layer so thick you couldn’t see past your waist. 

“Azriel—” You didn’t want another fight. “It's ok.” 

“No. It’s not.” 

Lucien was a mixed bag of emotions and he felt a dozen of them go off at the same time like fireworks. There was rage at the male who had the audacity to lay a hand on you, who’d hurt you if the rumours in Velaris were true. A bitter desire for revenge that still lay heavy on his hands after the utter hell he’d gone through watching Azriel and Elain for years. Protectiveness over you — his sister. And a tiny sliver of shame that grew every time you prodded the Shadowsinger’s bent nose and winced. 

“Do you know?” Lucien’s voice shook. 

“Do I know what, Lucien?” 

He swore and looked at everyone in turn. The members of the Inner Circle were trying their damned hardest not to meet his eyes, nervously angling their gaze towards the ground or out the windows like the evening fog was the most interesting thing they’d ever seen.

Fucking hell. You didn’t know.

Lucien reached down over your shoulder, grabbed Azriel’s nose and shoved it back into place with a loud pop. 

You cringed at the sound, but Azriel didn’t react. He was well acquainted with pain and knew how to hide it. 

He breathed through his reset nose, touching the swore flesh gingerly. “Thank you.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“Lucien!” 

He clenched his teeth so hard he thought they might crack. Elain chose that moment to quietly slide her hand into his from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder so he was surrounded by the smell of wildflowers. She tapped the center of his chest, right where he’d told her he felt anchored by the bond, and then looked pointedly to where you kneeled on the ground in between Azriel’s legs. 

And Azriel… Azriel looked lost to the world. Centuries spent relegated to the shadows as a Spymaster had wiped away his feelings, at least outwardly. But everyone could plainly see the way he kept his hand on your arm, thumb brushing circles over your warm skin and the settling of his breathing the longer you held onto his jaw with careful fingers. 

Of all the people. It had to be him. 

“The Mother works in mysterious ways,” Elain whispered so only her mate could hear.

“Unfortunately for me.” 

Lucien took in a ragged breath and clenched his fists, waiting for the worst of his anger to fade away before he collected the books back into the discarded bag and held it out for you. 

A peace offering. 

You pulled Azriel back onto his feet, keeping one hand firmly clasped in his, and glared at your brother. “That was completely unnecessary.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” And he meant it. 

Your lips flattened. “Shouldn’t you be apologizing to Azriel?”

His mismatched eyes flared with irritation when they flickered to the Shadowsinger. 

Azriel stood quietly at your side, his face a motley of red, purple, and blue. Still handsome though, much to Lucien’s annoyance. 

“I’m not going to apologize for that. He deserved it. I’m just sorry you had to witness it.” Lucien hesitated, then said, “Y/n, I’m not usually like this. I don’t want you to think poorly of me just because of… him.” It was taking everything within him not to use more colorful language to describe the Shadowsinger. “It won’t happen again… unless you ask me to… which I hope you do.” 

Lucien wasn’t sure what to expect. He didn’t know what anger looked like painted on your features, or sadness, and he didn’t want to. So, it was a pleasant surprise when you only rolled your eyes and muttered, “First Helion and now you. Fucking males,” before slinging the bag over your shoulder and tugging Azriel towards your room. 

The Shadowsinger trailed after you without a second thought, heart hammering away in his chest. 

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

LET'S GO BIG BROTHER LUCIEEEEENNNNNNNNN

Y'all I had so much fucking fun writing the Lucien/Azriel fight scene. And to think that for a hot second I considered not writing it because I was worried it would be too repetitive to have Azriel get his ass beaten by both Helion and Lucien. Azriel, you poor, poor man, I'm sorry to have put you through all this. But also I'm not sorry at all.

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! As always, please feel free to send me your thoughts!

[luveline]

would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅

thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse

There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.) 

He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section. 

He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true. 

No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom. 

Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight. 

You look tired, too. 

Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess. 

You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas. 

Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky. 

You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops. 

You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak. 

“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.” 

You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.

“Are you okay?” 

Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight. 

“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment. 

“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.” 

“It's getting better.” 

It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–” 

“I'm really okay–” 

“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–” 

You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.” 

Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.” 

“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket. 

“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.

He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still. 

Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.” 

“And he hit you?” 

“Yeah.” 

Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”

You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask. 

Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice. 

“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue. 

“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?” 

You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.” 

He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?” 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…” 

“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly. 

“I’m not stupid.” 

Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” 

“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.” 

He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now. 

“Can I buy you something to eat?” 

“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside. 

“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.” 

“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it. 

“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?” 

“No.” 

“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.” 

You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly. 

Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that. 

[187days]

Day One Hundred Sixteen

Last Friday I had my Global Studies students choose some lines from the books they're reading and write them on sticky notes. Today I had them get into groups, gave each group a stack of quotes, and had them create found poetry. I had each group share what they'd come up with, and then, since I had time, I also redistributed the quotes and had students create poems individually. The results of the group and individual work were both really cool. Here's one example:

We had many days of snow and rain. Cypresses rose like the shadows of flames from the crest of the hill. My people believed that our land is not given to us by our ancestors. It is loaned to us by our children. Yesterday I was playing hopscotch with my friends. Today we are running from soldiers with guns. When this country calls all, it’s calling you. You don’t want to get caught in the dark alone. Bad things happen at night. You don’t get to claim the war as your own personal tragedy. Not here.

This isn't something I'd ever done before, but it's definitely something I'll do again. It turned out so well! Also, the number of individual students who volunteered to read their pieces- or asked me to do it if they wanted to share but didn't want to read themselves- was unexpectedly high, particularly in my first section. More than half them did it.

So that was cool.

APGOV was cool, too, albeit more predictably so. I scored the FRQ practice students had done yesterday, and actually gave a bunch of 6/6 scores, which is terrific. They've got a test tomorrow, so we did some review AMA-style until lunch. After lunch, we tackled some of the practice questions on AP Classroom. I'm feeling good about how that went, and, hopefully, so are they!

What else? I had a leadership team meeting after school, which was actually super busy. We're starting to craft some new policies, it's program of studies time, there are several big events coming up in the next few weeks... So we had a lot to discuss! It's all good stuff, though.

[enwoso]

INVISIBLE STRINGS — alessia russo

*i started writing this and loved it then got bored by the end so sorry for the rushed ending:) but thank you for the love and support on my first post!!

navigation

google would define invisible strings as a thread that connects two people who are destined to meet regardless of time, place or the circumstances. the thread may stretch or tangle but it never breaks.

you and alessia both truly believed you were a prime example of the invisible string theory.

the two of you always existing among each other but neither ever really acknowledged each other until later on when you were both older.

you lived on the same street as alessia growing up, only a few doors down, she was the blonde girl you would always see from afar playing in the park with her two older brothers as they blasted the ball at the young girl.

however she always gave back as good as she got.

you had even went to the same school, however she was in the year above you. there were plenty school photos with the two of you in only a few metres apart. walking past each other in the corridor every single day - not having an idea how important each other would become to be to the other in the future.

you had played football for the local team as did she. the blonde playing in offence taking any spot on the front line whereas you sat at the back and played in defence stopping the opposition from scoring.

that is how the two of you met, well kind of. you played for the same team but you two never really friends. it wasn’t that you didn’t like each other it’s just you never really spoke to one another bar the few words when necessary.

however you only played with each other for a few months before she moved onto a new local team. only seeing her now when your team would face her new team.

you both existed in the backgrounds of each others lives.

when you were sixteen, you were scouted by the arsenal's academy for the under seventeens teams, it took you a little time getting used to playing academy football and not the usual sunday league but after a few months you had found your feet and began to settle in.

you had one goal, the england youth squad. your family pushing you each day to try and help you achieve your goal however just a month before the squad announcement you tore your ACL at sixteen.

you were out of football for a year, endless days sat with a physio, in the gym just trying to get your knee to bend again like it once used to. watching from the sidelines as your friends in the academy got their calls up for the youth teams and how you wished it was you.

you felt as though you were fighting a battle you were never going to win, you were falling out of love with sport that you had played your entire life.

after three hundred and sixty two day you were finally allowed to play again, however your return it wasn't the fairy tale dream you had spent the past year dreamed about. you ended up spending a lot of time on the bench not playing as regular as you did before your injury and you spent many of those ninety minutes wondering why you were no longer good enough.

losing all your confidence in yourself and your ability to actually play football - you felt as though you had hit a brick wall. finding yourself some days where you didn't want to play football anymore.

but thankfully your family, mainly your dad, were not going to let you give up so easily on the talent that they had spent watching over the last ten years. your dad repeatedly telling you 'that you time would come'

and like the fairy tale you had dreamed about you slowly begun to get minutes again and fell back in love with sport all over again. forever thankful for your family for their support each day, for sometimes dragging you to training even when you had told them multiple of times that you were done and that you quit.

and you dad was right, your time did come. your hard work finally paid off and just after your nineteenth birthday you made your appearance for the arsenal first time - even bagging yourself an assist.

the next few season were spent learning and being loaned to another other club spending half a season at brighton when you were 20. but you saw it all as learning and a way of improving - you were getting minutes, plenty of clean sheets and you were working towards a new goal: the 2023 world cup.

you were back at arsenal and were a regular starter in the back line for arsenal and with that came your good from and finally your call up for england came as they were beginning their campaign to quality for the world cup in australia.

"are you excited?" leah asked swinging her arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the changing rooms, she had been a big mentor to you since you had came into the first team, along with helping you to improve your game. you could say you became her little prodigy.

the squad had just been announced on social media for the first time and hearing your name on the sheet of paper had you feeling something you could even begin to find the word to describe.

“yes.. but no, i’m a little nervous” you admitted with a small laugh as leah gave you a soft smile and a squeeze of the shoulders to reassure you.

“listen, you’ll be fine! just play with the passion you always have” she said as you nodded slowly, “plus you’ll have me, beth and jordan!” the blonde added as you playfully groaned, leah gasping and unthreading her arm from around your shoulders.

“i’m just kidding, you know i love you all” you smiled, as leah rolled her eyes as you reached the doors of the changing rooms, “i do kiddo! ..but i’m at the top of that list, right?”

“whatever helps you sleep at night, lee!”

leah was right - you were fine. while you didn’t get any starts in any of the games at your first camp, you did get some minutes as a sub which was more than you were expecting. but while sitting on the bench you did find yourself talking to a particular blonde.

“you said you were from kent, didn’t you?” alessia asked as you hummed, a puzzled look growing on your face as you waited for the blonde to carry on. your eyes were glued to the girls running around on the pitch as you sat on the bench with a bright orange bib over your jacket.

“me too! what part?” the blonde asked as you turned your head at the question being slightly caught off guard at the fact she was also from kent.

“um maidstone” you gave her a small smile, your attention turning back to the girls on the pitch as the ball was close to going into the back of the net. alessia gasping making you think she had seen something you had missed on the pitch as well as making you jump a little, “me too!”

you turned back to her, giving her a shocked look. confusion filling you as the two of you spent the rest of camp talking about each others childhood finding out your grew up on the same street as well as going to the same school.

when the next england camp rolled around, you and alessia had became even closer to the point you were counting down the days until you next saw each other.

short and sweet messages turned into hours and hours spent on facetime until the other fell asleep. friendly comments turned into subtle flirty ones and the touches turned to ones that lasted longer than friends and slowly you found yourself falling for the blonde.

the last england camp before the euros in the summer at home had finally arrived, you had arrived at st george’s park with beth and leah but before alessia.

you found yourself sitting patiently in the common room, like a lost puppy waiting for the blonde to walk through the door. the other girls chatting and playing cards in the background.

“kid, if you stare any longer at the doorframe your gonna burn a hole in it!” lucy teased as you glanced away from the doorway for the first time in a least thirty minutes, rolling your eyes at the teasing comment you moved your gaze to fix at watching leah try and beat beth’s high score on the basketball hoop game.

eventually after what felt at least a year to you and fifteen minutes to everyone else - the blonde walked through with ella, as she made a beeline for you as you wrapped her in a tight hug.

the two of you finding a rhythm and falling into a deep conversation about all the things you had forgotten to tell each other over the phone.

“so then me and ella had to stop, so i could get a coffee and she-“ alessia was in the middle of telling you a recount of her journey here before you interrupted her with a big gasp, jumping up out of your seat to find your phone quickly.

“what?” alessia asked as she watched you frantically search for your phone on the beanbag you were sitting on - finding it wedged under the beanbag.

“i have to show you this before i forget!” you said a grin on your face getting bigger with ever swipe your finger did on your phone screen. moving closer to the blonde, your shoulders touching as she peered over your own shoulder wondering what on earth you were about to show her and why was it such a big deal.

"look-" you moved your phone so that it was in her eye line and on your screen was a group school photo, "i don’t get it? what am i looking at?" the blonde asked her squinted her eyes trying to get a better look at the photo.

"there's me and.." you paused as she pointed to herself as a small gasp followed from her, "and there's me" alessia whispered, so quietly you also couldn't hear her. shock has consumed the blonde and you sat back with a smug smile as she examined the photo a little more.

"how’d you find this?" alessia asked as she turned her head back to you, handing you back your phone, "my mum sent me them,, there's more if you swipe across" you said beginning to swipe along your camera roll.

the two of you spent the next hour looking through the photos, some from school and others from your grassroots club, recounting each others side of the memories both of you in shock of how close you to were to each other growing but in reality how far you were to each other.

"we've literally been in the background of each other lives forever" alessia smiled as you nodded. "attached by an invisible string" you added.

the international camp came to an end and you both went back to your respective clubs, this time the two of you were making an effort to see each other without it being on a pitch or about football — so on your days off you went to see alessia and on her days off she came to see you.

your feelings for alessia were growing each time you saw her, her smile was infectious, her blue orbs were the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. but you didn't want to admit your feelings to her in case it ruined your friendship, plus why would she like you back, alessia sees you as a friend and a friend only.

or so you thought.

"less, why don't you just admit you have feelings for the girl!" ella said as she caught the blonde smiling at her phone knowing that she was messaging you.

"w-what" the blonde stuttered her phone dropping into her lap. "less, we can all see that you like her!" ella paused as alessia's cheeks tinted red, "except for y/n - but she definitely likes you too!"

"she does?"

"of course, everyone can see the way you both look at each other!" ella said bumping her shoulder with the older blonde as alessia gave her a small smile and nodded processing the information that had just been given to her.

before the euros came around in the summer alessia managed to make the first move taking you on the first date — a fancy dinner accompanied by going back to her apartment and spending the rest of the night cuddled into each other while watching a film.

the euros had come and you were back with alessia and the rest of the england girls. the tournament had been the best time of your life making unforgettable memories with the girls. slipping in a few dates with alessia when you two had some downtime.

you were just beginning to enter the second half of extra time the score being 1-1 in the final, yes the final at wembley. the little girl inside of you was buzzing with excitement, you couldn't believe you were going to get to play here. your whole family had made the trip to wembley, sitting proudly in the crowd.

it was england's chance to score, germany had conceded the corner. alex was hovering over it to take it as white shirts littered germanys penalty area.

the ball swing in as everyone jumped up, you watched alessia drop to the ground and then watched as chloe poked the ball into the back of the net. chloe running off to celebrate as the stadium erupted, as you all gathered around chloe celebrating.

all you had to do was hold on for the next ten minutes and the trophy was englands.

keeping the ball in the corner, desperately waiting for the final whistle to blow.

germany had one last chance but before it got into the final half the whistle blew, england where european champions.

running to the closest person near you which happened to be leah, engulfing her in a hug as the tears began to fall. "we did it!" you whispered as she hummed, the two of you sniffing and wiping your eyes and going off to celebrate with the others but your eye caught the sight of your favourite blonde moving toward her.

you don't know if it was the adrenaline of the win that was flowing or if you had finally just grew the confidence to say it but after months of dancing around your feelings for the blonde.

you ran up swinging your arm around her neck, as you both cheered before you faced her grabbing her hands, "less! will you be my girlfriend" you blurted out, clearly catching the blonde of guard as her head perked up, alessia thinking she had misheard you before nodding, "yes, a thousand time yes!" 

you smiled bringing the blonde in for a bear hug, not wanting to let go. enjoying her touch, it made you feel safe and loved. as she pulled away she wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you into her, kissing the top of your head lingering there for a few moments.

"all along there's been an invisible string tying me to you."

liked by lucybronze and 915,703 others

alessia day one or one day?

comments -

lucybronze well y/n looks thrilled on the first one

24m 140 likes     reply

-> yourusername she annoyed me that day.

-> alessia how on earth can you remember that?

-> yourusername i can’t? i’m just guessing that you did

yourusername i love you<3

24m 140 likes     reply

-> alessia love you more, my love<33

[weeknd-ogoc]

LUNA, SOL Y MAR ˳ ׄ ⟡  . CARLOS SAINZ JR.

SUMMARY: in which carlos reminisces about your long relationship before he decides to propose to you. (inspired by the song, san lucas by kevin kaarl) FACE CLAIM: cindy kimberly CONTAINS: overprotective parents, major fluff, making out and carlos catching a feel! AUTHOR'S NOTE: as a latina, i feel likes there's not many imagines with latina girls for carlos so i decided to make this for ya'll. 🩵

(the smaller words are the english translation!)

🩵 twelve years old

carlos and you had been best friends growing up so somewhere along the way the both of you ended up falling so in love with each other. at first your parents thought it was just a harmless crush so they allowed you to spend your afternoons with him.

since you guys lived a few minutes from each other, their was a little garden area near your house and that became your little spot to hangout.

"my dad's taking me on a trip to italy to enter a race tomorrow..." carlos had told you as he plucked the little blue flowers on the ground. "but i'll be back next week."

he was always worried about leaving you since he knew how harsh your parents could be with you, in the case he wasn't around he sent his older sister to make sure you were alright.

you smiled at him as he handed you one of the flowers. "lucky you, i want to go to italy some day."

the young boy plucked another flower from the ground and put it on your ear. "créeme, cuando seamos mas grandes te llevaré por todo el mundo." (believe me, when we're older i'll take you with me all around the world.)

little did you know he had actually meant that.

🌙 sixteen years old

as the new year started, carlos made it his mission to make sure you were going to be his from now on. so the next night he helped you sneak out of your room and the both of you walked to your spot — where he had set up some blankets and pillows on the ground.

"very romantic." you smiled as you laid down next to him.

god did he love that vanilla scent you had.

the both of you laid down under the stars in silence, he was trying to gain the confidence to ask you out and in doing so he slowly wrapped his arm around you.

"la luna se ve tan hermosa..." you had said as you laid comfortably against his arm. (the moon looks so beautiful)

you hadn't noticed he was actually looking into your eyes "no tan hermosa como tu." (not as beautiful as you)

this had you both screaming on the inside.

he cleared his throat and looked back up to the moon.

"it's now or never..." you mumbled out and before he could ask what you said — you had already softly pressed your lips on his.

deep down he was kind of glad you made the first move.

before you knew it the kiss was starting to get more intense and he pulled down one of your straps on your dress, which you allowed him to. "let's try to slow down..." he said in between kisses and you let out a small mhm. so the both of you tried to slow things down, but it wasn't easy since his hands were wandering and your lips had somehow attached onto his neck.

"y/n!" the both of you heard which made you guys jump up — you had pulled up the straps on your dress and he tried hiding his very visible boner.

your father stood their crossing his arms. "regresa a la casa ahorita mismo." (return back to the house now.)

you glanced at carlos before walking back to your house and overheard your father telling carlos he was never going to see you again, but the two of you were teenagers and in love so of coarse you were going to see each other again.

☀️ eighteen years old

the day before your eighteenth birthday, carlos was finally returning back to spain. he had chosen to become a professional driver and you one hundred percent supported him, he had been traveling for a few months but you guys managed to still talk over the phone whenever your family wasn't around.

his parents always welcomed you into their house when things got hard back at home, they had loved you as a daughter after finding out carlos and you were together.

"meet at our spot, i have something to tell you!" he excitedly told you before he got on his plane. "te quiero mucho..." (i love you so much)

so after your parents went to work, you snuck out and walked to your spot, where carlos was already waiting for you. he had the blankets placed on the floor and blue roses in his hands.

you jumped into his arms as he hugged you tightly. "god, i missed you hermosa." (beautiful)

after a few more kisses and hugs, the pair sat under the sun as he had told you about his races and showed you pictures. he loved how excited you were for him and he was excited for what he was about to ask you.

"you're turning eighteen in a few hours and i want you to leave with me..." he quickly told you. "come with me to my next race and after that we can travel all around the world."

your parents quickly crossed your mind but you nodded to his question "cuándo nos vamos?" (when do we leave)

he kissed your forehead and looked back down to you. "tomorrow morning!"

after talking about your futures, the sun was starting to get stronger and you put your hair up in a bun. "hace más calor" (it's getting hotter)

he smirked before planting a kiss on your head. "no tan caliente como tu." (not as hot as you)

you rolled your eyes at him before pushing him down into the blanket and kissing him once more.

the both of you stayed until midnight and he walked you over to your house, where your parents were waiting for you on the front porch.

your dad instantly stood up. "yo te había dicho que ya no te acercaras a mi hija." he told carlos as he walked up to him. (i told you before not to get close to my daughter)

before your dad could touch him, you stepped in front of them both. "i'm leaving with him..."

your dad let out a laugh and looked back to your mother who looked scared. "he's not going to be able to support you with his silly dream job."

you scoffed "carlos is going to make it and i'm going to be right there next to him so i'm getting my stuff and i'm leaving."

carlos had helped you pack your things and when you went to the bathroom to get the last remaining of your things, your mom walked into the room.

"carlos, por favor cuidala." (please take good care of her)

he nodded. "siempre." (always)

your mother knew he had actually meant that and he truly did.

🌊 twenty five years old

the two of you had now been together for almost ten years now and were living in a big house in spain, you guys had gotten two dogs and they were basically like your children.

your relationship with your parents had gotten better after you left and your father had apologized to carlos for saying the things he did the night you left. he was proud of carlos for being able to fully support you.

"woah, are you okay?" charles had asked you since he saw you throwing up in a trash can.

you nodded as he handed you a napkin and rubbed your shoulder. "just peachy..."

"what's wrong then?" he asked.

the italian gp of 2023 was just in a few hours and it had you feeling real nervous for carlos, he had been training real hard and even looked nervous.

what you didn't know was that he was actually nervous because he was planning to ask you to marry him right after the race, he was so sure he was winning this race.

carlos overheard you telling charles that you were twelve weeks pregnant and he froze for a second.

it's now or never.

he cleared his throat and you looked at him with wide eyes.

"oop, i'll be out there." charles quickly mumbled before walking out.

you had walked up to him to him and he stopped you.

"amor, i was going to tell you aft-"

"cásate conmigo" he got on his knee and pulled the little box out of his pocket. "cásate conmigo" he said again. (marry me)

your heartbeat had instantly raced "car-"

he interrupted you once more. "i have loved you since i was a little boy, our whole childhood i knew it was going to be you and right now i know that i'm going to love you and our child for the rest of our lives."

your tears had began spilling out and you nodded. "yes i'll marry you."

he slipped the beautiful ring on your finger and pressed his lips onto yours. "te queiro mas que la luna, sol y mar." (i love more than the moon, sun and sea.)

thank you guys for reading, my requests are open!

© weeknd-ogoc, 2023

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 10] Late Nights

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Satoru’s behavioral change is something that you never really expected. It seems that he’s warming up once again, even though you’re not giving him the attention he desires. He wants you to be the sweet and loving woman that you were when you were in a relationship, but you aren’t that woman. But it’s fine with him, he’s still warming up and treating you like an actual human being.

The bar is low, but you don’t really expect much from spoiled little Satoru. 

For some reason, you’re not liking this change though. You prefer him as the cold and mean boss that would snap and berate you due to a minor mistake. Maybe it’s because he’s molding and reminding you of the man that you used to love and you don’t want to see traces of the past relationship. Ren is the only reminder you need, and the best reminder because he reminds you how Satoru left you without an explanation.

You hate how he suddenly drops the mean act and is sweet; professional but still sweet. He tries to make an effort by asking how you’re doing, asking you to take breaks during work hours so you don’t tire yourself out so quickly (knowing that sometimes you have to run some errands for his mom), and whenever he orders food he asks if you want anything. You wonder what his mom said to him especially when you remember how he broke down and hugged you out of nowhere. She definitely said something to him.

“Have you started sending out the invitations?” Satoru asks, and you hum in response. Even though he knows you’re busy, sometimes you can’t get out of the task of working late nights. There’s so much to do in one day sometimes, and it’s especially busy with an upcoming charity event. It’s an event that his father would host each year but it consequently stopped when his mother got a hold of the company. Since Satoru is officially the president of the company, he’s honoring his father by bringing back the event– Additionally, it brings great publicity to the company, but that’s just an added bonus.

“Around one hundred people have said yes, a handful declined, and we still have a lot of people that haven’t opened it or are just thinking about it.” You inform him. 

“Have the Zenins said anything? Any of them?” He’s curious to know their response, and you try to recall. You remember the Zenin name coming up a lot while growing up, you never really got to understand the relationship between that family and the Gojos. They’re in constant competition yet they still invite each other to big events.

“Yeah… They declined.” You answer when you remember. He feels relieved to know that. They’re the last group of people he wants to see… A bunch of complicated snobby pieces of shit. He quite literally doesn’t understand why his father insisted on inviting them to every major event. He remembers Naoya, mainly because they went to school together, and that boy was unbearable. Satoru was lucky that he was a year younger. “I remember one of the Zenins–”

You can’t quite remember his name, and you try to remember the name. It’s on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite get it. Until Satoru speaks up, “Naoya.”

“Yeah! He asked me out when I was like sixteen. Really awkward… He told me that I’d never amount to nothing and it’d be weird to see him and show him that he was right.” You share, and Satoru finds himself surprised at the information that you share. How has he never heard of that? 

“Good thing that you rejected him. Suguru and I would’ve never allowed that relationship to happen anyway.” He responds, and you raise your brows. It’s weird why he’s bringing it up, but you’re more curious as to why Suguru of all people wouldn’t allow that to happen. You understand why Satoru would’ve been upset– But not Suguru. You chew on the inside of your cheek anxiously, wondering if you should ask the question that comes up in your mind.  In the end you ask,

“Why wouldn't Suguru have allowed that relationship to happen?” And Satoru isn’t sure how to respond. He isn’t sure whether to dismiss the question and get back to work, or to answer honestly. Satoru’s eyes shift back to his computer before he says anything.

“He used to have a crush on you back then.” He clears his throat, grabbing his water and taking a sip of it. You find yourself a bit taken back, a stupid smirk on your lips and it pisses him off. You shift in your seat, adjusting yourself so your back is straight.

“Suguru had a crush on me?” You sound so fucking proud of it, and it takes everything in Satoru to remain his composure. You repeat the question, sounding even more proud than the last time. 

“Yeah, he did.” Satoru says through gritted teeth. You’re way too ecstatic to even care about how he talks. His hands form into fists and he tries to hide them from you. “Why does it matter anyway? We ended up dating.”

“I’m just wondering… We all wonder how life would’ve turned out differently if we had made different decisions.” You answer, and he scoffs. When his hands are visible again, your eyes fall on your wedding band. “It doesn’t matter anyway, we’re here to work.”

“You’re right.” He nods his head in response. He focuses on what you have to do before you go back home. He’s sure you’re in a rush to go back home to your stupid cat.

“Plus, you’re married to someone else. It doesn’t matter if I had chosen to date him.” 

He bites down on his lip. He guesses you’re right. He’s not allowed to get upset. After all, he did leave you without an explanation. Maybe he should’ve let Suguru get with you. 

“Mommy!” Ren yells, the biggest smile on his face when he sees you. You always welcome him with open arms, picking him up from the floor and filling his little face with kisses. Even though you’re exhausted by the time you get home, you always manage to find energy to spend some quality time with him.

As you pay attention to him, brushing his hair out of his face with your fingers, the nanny collects her stuff and says her goodbyes before leaving. It’s your daily routine. While you greet him, she leaves without missing a beat. “Are you hungry, Ren?”

“No.” He answers, and while he says that, your stomach growls. Satoru offered to buy food but you rejected the offer since you wanted to leave as soon as you could. Ren, being the honest little boy that he is, points it out, “Sounds like you’re hungry, mommy.”

“I am. I’m gonna order something.” You say, definitely too tired to cook something up. You smile at him, tilting your head to the side, “Do you have any ideas?”

“Pizza.” He doesn’t waste a second, and you chuckle. You figured. You kiss the top of his head and you put him down on the floor before reaching into your purse to grab your phone. You find a couple of messages on your phone from different people. Mrs. Gojo telling you that you need to talk, a similar message from Shoko, and then Suguru checking up on you.

First thing’s first, you order your food delivery before you send a message to Suguru. You then call Mrs. Gojo, and within the first ring, she picks up the phone. She doesn’t bother greeting you before saying, “What’s up with Satoru?”

“I have no idea. I’m his secretary, not his babysitter nor his mother.” You respond, too tired to care about the way you speak to her. “You should know.”

“I swear to God, if you said anything to him–” She stops mid sentence and takes a deep breath. “Do you have an idea of what’s going on?”

“I have no idea. What did Satoru do?” You ask her. You hear her sigh.

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll call you if I need anything.” She says before hanging up the phone. You turn your full attention to Ren, deciding that anything else can wait until he’s asleep. You walk over to him and crouch down to his level.

“You wanna watch a movie, Ren?” You ask him and he nods in response. He follows you as you walk over to the couch to look for the remote control.

“Can we eat ice cream, mommy?” He looks at you with puppy eyes, and it’s hard for you to say no.

“After dinner, Ren.” You tell him, taking a seat on the couch. He takes a seat next to you, laying his head on your lap.

You will always hold some sort of resentment towards Satoru, but you will always be thankful for the little boy that rests his head on your lap. Ren is your whole world.

When Ren is sound asleep, you find yourself on the couch, finger hovering over Suguru’s contact. And just as you’re about to call him, someone calls you first. The man that you were just thinking of. You don’t waste a second picking up the phone and putting it to your ear.

“Hey, Suguru.” There’s a dumb smile on your face. It becomes bigger when he says your name. You don’t waste any time considering your eyes are shutting on their own. You’ve texted the entire night, talking about trivial things. You just have to come out and say it, “Satoru told me that you liked me back in the day.”

“Is that so?” Suguru responds, and you hum. You bite down on your lip, waiting for him to say something else. Any other time you would be embarrassed to just say that, but your brain is barely functioning, and your confidence is extremely high. “What do you think?”

“That if you had said something before Satoru then…” You swallow thickly. Would you have chosen Suguru over Satoru? After realizing just how immature Satoru is, right now you say you would’ve chosen Suguru. Back then though… It doesn’t matter now anyway. “Maybe Ren would’ve been your kid.”

“Is that so?” You hear how he’s holding back on laughing. Finally you hear a chuckle. “Is that your way of shooting your shot?”

“Maybe…” You respond, and you’re lucky you’re half asleep when you’re saying all of this. The silence would be your biggest embarrassment at any other moment. You smile as you hear,

“Do you wanna go on a date?”

[jewish-sideblog]

if your blog is nothing but posts combatting antisemitism, and absolutely nothing in the atrocities being committed by israel, please explain how it’s unfair to assume you don’t actually care about the palestinian genocide. you see, when most people care about a cause, they actually talk about it and bring awareness to it

The situation in Gaza has been trending on tumblr and every other social media site consistently for three months. Most major news networks are at least covering the ICJ case and the Houthi strikes this week. Public awareness of situation in Gaza is so high that it’s clearly influencing polling for the US presidential election. Herit/ageposts has basically been talking about it 24/7, complete with an antisemitic rehash of The Crucible. Their posts tend to get tens or hundreds of thousands of notes.

Meanwhile, there are like. Ten blogs on this website that are actively contributing to combatting antisemitic misinformation. We might get 10k notes on a more successful post. Mostly we get slurs and death threats.

Right now there are major conflicts ongoing in Sudan, Syria, Myanmar, Ukraine, and Somalia. Do you care for the thousands of people that have died in those conflicts in the last sixteen days? Have you been consistently posting about them and bringing attention to them? There was a mass shooting at an American high school just last week. Did you make a post about it? Or do you not care about the three children who died? Will your reblog bring them back?

The situation in Gaza is, by leaps and bounds, the conflict with the most awareness in the world right now. There is not a single person who follows this blog who is not aware of what is happening. Jews are sheltering from the thousands of missiles being fired at soft targets from Gaza, or we are in the diaspora, getting hate crimed for a conflict we have no control over. How much more awareness would you like us to have? And what exactly do you expect that awareness to solve? Slacktivism will not save lives.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Petal to the Metal.

It's starts off simple enough.

Tucker realizes that, with the map from the Far Frozen, there was a chance they could find an earth similar to their own within the Infinite Realms. The only difference? It would be a few years ahead of their timeline.

If they happen to pop over there and gather "helpful" tips, like "What were the lottery winning numbers in 2008?" or "What companies were the best to invest in the early 2000s?" then who would be the wiser? It's not like they were stealing anything.

They just put one foot in front of the others at the starting line. Some may say cheating (Sam) but Tucker prefered to be prepared. It didn't take too long for Danny to agree.

A way to guarantee wealth? Sucess? Heck, they may even be able to "discover" cures for deadly illnesses. It would be rather selfish of them not to use the map for the greater good.

Sam chose to stay behind, stating she was already rich and didn't need to cheat into more gold. Tucker personally thought she didn't understand the common folk like the two boys.

The plan was simple. They had already located the suitable earth; they would go in, spend a weekend sightseeing (and gathering info), and then return home. As far as their parents knew, they were going to a concert in another state, having bought fake tickets and hotel rooms to sell them. It took a lot of begging on both sixteen year olds part but eventually neither parent had denied them the trp and off they went.

Danny had even attacked a miniature portal ray to their beat-up car, having taken inspiration from the time Jonny 13 had modified his bike back in the day. He had blown it up after helping the biker win back Kitty, but he hadn't forgotten about it.

They hoped that a car like their own wouldn't stand out too badly in 2020, praying that people would just assume them to bepoor. How different could cars be in such a short time anyway?

The bags were packed, the car was filled, Danny had set the miniature portal, and the two drove out of the city limits to fire it up. It required a lot of speed, since Tucker's plain toyota wasn't a space ship design to travel the death diminsion.

Danny had offered to drive, seeing as Tucker hated being behind the wheel on long road trips, and once his parents could see them- Mr. Foley didn't like his son lending his car to his friends. One never knows what could happen with teenagers- he had switch seat with Danny.

Danny, who has Fenton blood, had him put the petals to the metal and had no problems raising their speed to the one hundred needed for the miniature portal to work. The plan was perfect.

The plan fell apart when the portal opened in front of a clown about to put on a show for a large crowd. They ran him over with their car.

"Omg! You hit a clown!" Tucker screams watching the body roll off the windsheild.

Danny's grip on the stirring wheel was knuckle white but his eyes were narrowed in satisfication. "Good"

"No not good! This isn't Freakshow! That was a random clown doing a show and we killed him!" Tucker screams as Danny puts the car in reverse and runs him over again.

"Danny!"

Outside the vechile people were screaming, lots of them pointing and one clear voice ran above the rest.

"They killed Joker!"

Danny reached down and flickered on his favoritedriving song as various people started to climb on the stage. Poeple dressed in strange clothing.

Was that a Bat?

"Hold on Tuck!" is his own warning before Tokyo Drift started blaring through the speakers as he slammed his foot on the petal again. They blew through some barrels of green liquid and drifted off the stage onto the road with Danny sining at the top of his lungs.

Tucker could barely hear himself scream as people jumped out fo the way unprepare for a Driving Fenton like Amity Park was.

Maybe Sam was right. This was a terrible idea.