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cressidagrey · 3 days

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Stars all aligned - Chapter 1

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, definitely disordered eating, kinda depression?, isolation

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

He found her deep inside the House of Wind. Far enough from the festivities of Starfall that it was startling to find her.

The second oldest Archeron Sister must have wandered off just like he had.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Azriel asked her as he spied her sitting in a puddle of her skirts on one of the couches, staring at the empty fireplace.

“Why aren’t you?” Zahra gave back drily, not even looking up at him.

What exactly was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I can't stomach watching your sister dance with her mate? And even if I could stomach that, Rhys's mental commentary to him about it had turned his stomach. Even when Azriel had kept away from Elain just like Rhysand had ordered him to do, ever since last year. So really...what was he supposed to answer?

“Dancing isn’t exactly my favourite activity,” Azriel finally replied. It wasn’t a lie.

"Yeah, well, mine neither," she answered with a shrug. "Not that I ever learned."

"You never learned?" he asked surprised. Nesta had learned. Elain had learned.

"Bastard, remember?" Zahra said drily. "I am lucky that I got to learn how to read and write and do basic math. I was not going to be molded into a perfect lady, because no self-respecting man would marry me anyway."

The blunt way Zahra was talking stunned Azriel momentarily. There was something harsh, something almost...bitter and resentful in her voice as she spoke.

It seemed like it didn't matter if one was born a bastard in Illyria or the Human lands. It was horrible either way.

"Your sisters will miss you," he said instead quietly. "And you'll miss the spectacle."

"I don't really care for the festivities," she said with another shrug. "I don’t like the holidays. Humans don’t have any. We… they are too busy trying to survive," Zahra corrected herself quietly. "And besides, I am only here anyway so I don't end up being an indentured servant until some of you decide that I am back in your good graces,” she gave back caustically.

He grimaced. That Zahra had vehemently disagreed about their treatment of Nesta was well known.

It had surprised him too because it was just as just as well known that Nesta seemed to not care for her half-sister on a good day. They weren't particularly close, in any way, shape or form.

Something in his chest clenched painfully. Not from the insult she threw in his direction, but from the defeated way she said it. That she thought that they would just…toss her aside like that.

She was one of them.

"We won't," he said firmly. Her eyes slowly turned toward him and there were dark shadows in those eyes. Out of all the Archeron Sisters, she was the only one with green eyes. Azriel wondered if she had inherited them from her late mother.

Zahra was only the half-sister after all. The result of her father’s dalliance with a maid. Her age put her somewhere between Nesta and Elain.

It was easy enough to pick out the differences between Nesta, Elain and Feyre and Zahra. Dark hair similar to Elain’s, but green eyes. Skin a few shades darker than any of theirs. Lips that looked like Feyre’s but a nose that looked like none of her sisters.

Zahra seemed to belong but didn’t.

And right now, these green eyes…something was wrong. Something was off with these eyes.

"You don’t know that," she said with a humourless laugh. "Do you want to lie to me too, and tell me that Rhysand has nothing to do with whatever happened between Elain and you?"

Azriel stiffened, a low sound escaping his throat. She knew. She knew.

"How did you-" he croaked hoarsely and Zahra cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Do you really think that I hadn't noticed the two of you dancing around each other for months? Or the fact that you two can barely manage to be in the same room together?" she asked dryly and Azriel averted his gaze. "There is no one as beautiful and kind as my sister," Zahra said drily. "I don't fault you for falling for her."

Azriel said nothing, the pain in his chest growing at her words. The pain...and the bitter realization that his feelings were not as well-hidden as he had thought they were.

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "She has a mate. She deserves better than me anyway."

"Did Rhysand tell you that too?" Zahra said drily. "You never tried to hide the fact that your mate was dying from the same, so you have that on him."

Azriel gritted his teeth, the pain in his chest becoming almost unbearable. "It doesn’t matter," he repeated firmly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Elain is happy. I would do nothing to put that in danger."

"Yes, she is," Zahra agreed. "For what it's worth, I am sorry," she apologised to him, her voice honest.

Azriel swallowed, the pain in his chest lessening only to be replaced by something else. Something...much more complicated. Something like…pity.

He pitied her. This young female was so full of bitterness. He couldn’t even fault her for it either. She had been just a bastard. Even when they had first met the Archeron Sisters…Zahra had been working in the household as a maid. Half employee, half part of the family. Like their father couldn’t make up his mind what he should do with his bastard daughter.

"You don't have anything to apologise for," Azriel finally told her quietly. "Do you really not want to watch?" he asked her. "You are supposed to wish for something when you see the stars fall."

She snorted, the sound bitter. "What I want, I am never going to get," Zahra said, her voice brittle.

He took her in in more detail at that moment.

The simple green gown she wore, high necked and long sleeved...that long gown that did little to hide how thing she was. The dark brown hair, pulled into a braid, obviously trying to hide the pointed tips of her ears and failing...the way her skin, darker than all of her sisters, was nearly ashen.

They had all thought that she was doing well. That Zahra at least was adjusting well.

But she wasn't. She wasn’t doing better. She hadn't adjusted. Azriel would bet anything that all she wanted in her life was to be human again.

She hadn't adjusted. She just acted in a way that didn't bother anybody, that didn’t spell trouble for anybody. Zahra had gotten herself a job, managing the accounting at an apothecary in the city. She had gotten herself a little cottage to rent. She didn’t go out and get drunk. She didn’t use any money from Rhys or Feyre. She showed up for family dinners, staying quiet and polite.

And if she was miserable…well, then nobody cared, because she didn��t bother anybody. Azriel could understand that. The same was the case for him.

Azriel clenched his jaw, watching her quietly sitting here. The way she was trying to hide away. The dress that was more like a potato sack than anything else. The way her skin was almost...grey. That bitter voice.

The shadows were stirring and he was unable to look away from her. She looks upset, Master, they told him helpfully.

"Do you want to go home?" Azriel offered quietly. Home to her cottage? Maybe some peace and quiet would make her feel better.

Zahra shrugged, not looking at him. Not giving him an inch. That wall of bitterness and sarcasm was so firmly in place, that it was practically a solid wall between them.

“Don’t want to end like an indentured servant, remember?“ she quipped drily.

“You won’t,“ Azriel said evenly. “You had a headache. I brought you home.“

She still didn’t look at him, her hands tightly knotted into her skirts as she sat there. She was so thin, almost fragile-looking. Her skin was sickly grey. “Come on,” he said finally, walking towards her.

Zahra finally looked up at him. Those green eyes. A bitter and lonely light in them. “What are you doing?“ she muttered.

“I’m bringing you home,” he said simply, holding out his hand. “Come on, get up.“

Zahra looked at his hand, her gaze wary. “Why?“ she asked quietly.

“Because you look like you are about to keel over,” he said, more bluntly than intended.

“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly, her voice sarcastic and bitter. But she placed her hand into his own and let him pull her to her feet, even though he could feel the tension in her entire body.

Azriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “Come on. Let’s get you home and into bed,” he said firmly.

He led her towards the balcony, the last few streaks of light painting the sky, and he grasped her tightly as they shout these few feet into the air until he could winnow to the cottage she rented.

It’s ugly, the shadows complained.

He had to agree with them. The cottage was an ugly little thing. Plain. Small. The type of thing that was more of a hovel in the outskirts, rather than anything else.

“Home sweet home,“ Zahra said dryly, pulling away from him and a key out of her purse.

That cottage was in serious need of some renovations when the red paint that was flaking off the door was anything to go by.

As she unlocked the door it became obvious that while she kept it clean and neat.. even that couldn’t help much. This is a hovel, the shadows hissed.

Azriel was inclined to agree. He looked around with a frown, as the shadows scuttered around the tiny cottage. “You live here?“ he couldn’t help but ask. It was a terrible hovel indeed.

Zahra shrugged as if she didn’t notice the disgust in his voice. “I couldn’t exactly afford anything else at first,” she said drily.

At least not without taking any money from Rhys and Feyre, and clearly that was nothing that Zahra wanted to do.

He was struck by how empty it all looked. There was a small kitchen space, a table with a few chairs a fireplace… And the door that led to her bedroom, he assumed.

“How long have you lived here?“ he asked carefully, taking in the bare emptiness. There were no pictures on the walls. No trinkets and little belongings anywhere. It was…lifeless. She shrugged again and kicked off her shoes, making her way towards the bedroom. “A year?“

The room was equally simple and bare. A bed, a few clothes. A little bathing chamber. That was it.

“You’ve lived here for over a year?“ Azriel repeated, his voice turning sharp as he looked at everything. There wasn’t even a mirror on the wall.

When she just shrugged again, he was done. He grabbed her arm and towed her back into the main room. “Stay,” he ordered, pointing at the table and one of the two rickety chairs.

“What are you doing?“ Zahra asked, raising both eyebrows at him. Her irritation had started to rise considerably. At least that had done something to the sickly colour of her skin.

“Making sure you eat something before you pass out on me,” Azriel muttered, turning back into the kitchen area, looking around with a frown.

There was…nothing. His shadows reported as much. She literally had a few pieces of bread and some cheese in the whole house. He was more than fuming. That was not enough that she was living in…this hovel, she was apparently also starving herself.

He pointed at the chair again. “Sit,” he ordered a little sharper than he had intended.

The glare she gave him did not surprise him. Zahra hated being ordered around. “No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not hungry.“

Azriel clenched his jaw, the anger flaring. How stubborn could she be?

“You clearly haven’t eaten in days,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “You have nothing in your house to eat.”

“I have what I need,” she retorted, her own anger flaring. Azriel gritted his teeth, the urge to snap at her almost overwhelming.

“You are skin and bones,” he hissed. “There is barely enough fat on you to keep out the cold.“

“Why do you care?“ she snapped right back.

The question hit him squarely in the chest. Why did he care? Why, he asked himself for a moment. Why indeed.

He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that it was just because she was Feyre’s sister.

Thankfully, Azriel was saved from actually having to answer, when her stomach grumbled.

Loudly. Azriel almost chuckled at the sound of her own stomach betraying just how hungry she really was. “Clearly your body disagrees with you,” he said drily.

“Shut up,” Zahra snapped, her skin flushing at the sound of her own stomach.

“I will shut up after you’ve eaten something,” Azriel said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Zahra gave him a glare that could strip the paint from the walls, (but then, the paint was already flaking off anyway). Still, she grudgingly sank down on the chair, her eyes avoiding his.

He turned back into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and found absolutely nothing. There was nothing. Not even some fruits or vegetables.

He slammed the last cupboard closed, almost causing the hinges to break, the anger flaring hotly in his chest. That stupid, stubborn, stubborn woman.

“I will personally come here every day and stuff you full until you burst,” he snapped before he could stop himself.

“Why?” she asked and he could hear the challenge in her voice. Her own anger rose to meet his own. “Why would you even bother?“

“Because you are starving yourself,” he said, spinning around to face her. “Because you are so thin, I could snap you in half with one hand. Because I’m pretty damn sure you haven’t eaten a proper meal in at least a year. That’s why.“

“Maybe I don’t deserve a proper meal,” she shot back and something inside of him snapped at the tone in her voice.

Because he knew that feeling. He knew. For just a moment he froze. They were far more similar than they should be.

It was a terrible realization. He knew what the self-hatred and bitterness was like. He understood it far better than he wanted to.

“Nobody is going to suddenly show up and care,” he told her quietly. He saw her eyes flare at the words and he knew she got the meaning behind them instantly.

She sat there, her jaw tensed. “And what do you know about it?” she snapped, her voice bitter.

“I know what it feels like to starve oneself,” he said calmly. “I know what it feels like to have not a single person notice or care.“

The words rang truer than they should. Her eyes widened for a moment, shock flashing through her.

“I know what it feels like to be the one be always at the edge of the family. I know what it feels like for everybody around me to meet their mate but not me.“

The words slipped out before he could stop them. The pain he had buried so deep, deep down flaring up. The pain and loneliness and bitter realization that would never have what everyone else had.

He realized only then how much they really had in common. How similar they were.

“I know what it feels like to be the afterthought,” he continued, unable to stop now. “I know how it feels to be shoved aside. I know how it feels to watch everyone around me find someone while I’m the one left behind.“

He took a step closer to where she was sitting, towering over her. “And I know how it feels to hate myself enough to deny myself the basic needs I actually have.“

The last words made her flinch. He was so close he could almost see the pain and guilt and bitter realization flit across her face. Her eyes were on her lap, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the table.

“I know what it feels like to feel as if I don’t deserve to eat,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not good enough. Not worthy enough. Not deserving enough.“

He knelt down in front of her, forcing her to look at him. To meet his eyes.

She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her to see. To understand that she wasn’t as alone as she thought. “I know what it feels like to punish myself by not giving myself what I actually need,” he said quietly.

Her breath hitched at the last words, her eyes widening ever so slightly. She was listening. Really listening to what he said.

“You’re not the only one who hates yourself, you know,” he said quietly. The look in her eyes shattered him. The look of realisation. Of bitter understanding. The realization that they were so much more similar than either of them had thought before.

Zahra bit her lip, the guilt flashing across her face. Her hands started trembling, ever so slightly.

“You don’t deserve to go hungry,” he said quietly, his voice firm and quiet. “You don’t deserve to starve yourself. You don’t deserve to live in this… hovel.

“The cauldron should just have killed me,” Zara said her voice brittle. “I don’t like this life.”

And didn’t that break his fucking heart?

She laughed bitterly, but there was no humour in it. “I’m not even surviving,” she said, a bitter smile on her thin lips. “I’m existing. There is a difference.“

The words hit him hard. She was right. She didn’t survive, she just existed. There was a difference and a huge one at that. “Then stop just existing,” he said quietly.

His hand was still cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over her skin.

“Says the guy that just keeps moping around,” she quipped.

It was a low blow but also true. Azriel’s jaw tensed at the comment. “I don’t mope,” he bit. “I just..“

He didn’t really have a good argument in his defence at the moment.

He sighed. “We should both stop rotting away,” he said drily.

“Yeah, well, that’s easy to you to say,” Zahra said and he could hear the bitterness in her voice.

“Eat your cheese,” he responded.

She rolled her eyes and snatched away the slice of cheese off the table. “Happy now?“ she muttered.

“Delighted,” he gave back drily, as he moved towards her fireplace.

“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra said quietly. “I can do that.”

“Considering you’ve been too starved to think straight, you are going to let me do this,” Azriel cut across her calmly. “You are more than likely to burn yourself.”

“Don’t the flames bother you?” She asked him quietly. He froze.

Nobody else had ever asked him. They had just expected him to be over it by now. He had 500 years to be over it. His hands clenched.

“Yes,” he answered quietly. “They still do.” It was the honest truth. A truth he never told anyone before, least of all someone like her. The shadows curled around his shoulders and arms as if to calm him down. The flames still bothered him. They always would. “But I learnt to deal with it a long time ago,” he continued.

“That’s not fair to you,” Zahra said, her voice quiet. “You are always the one in discomfort. And nobody cares.”

Her words hit him square in the gut. It was true. It was painfully true. He was always the one being uncomfortable. Always the one on edge. It had always been expected of him to be over it by now, the pain and the hurt. The fear and the bitterness.

He finished building the fire. Using a match to light it carefully, then closing the door quickly.

“I can deal with it,” he answered quietly. “You should go to sleep,” he advised her.

“So should you,” Zahra told him just as quietly. “You look terrible.“ He knew he looked like crap. But that didn’t matter.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, brushing off her comment. Even though he knew it was a lie. Even though he knew they were both terrible at taking care of themselves.

“You are a terrible liar,” she quipped. He looked at her and was surprised to see a tiny smile on her face.

“And you’re a very stubborn, very stupid, very annoying woman,” he quipped back just as quietly.

The smile on her face broadened the tiniest bit at the comment. “I could say the same about you,” she shot back.

“Sleep,” he told her again.

And then he left that little cottage to get back to the House of Wind. He didn’t bother winnowing, instead, he shot up into the sky with one flap of his mighty wings. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

His mind was whirling as he flew back to the House of Wind. So much had happened in the last few hours and it was all still a lot to process.

He had always been good at keeping a rein on his thoughts and his emotions. But this time, he simply couldn’t.

Zahra and him, always on the outskirts of their family. Ignored and expected to get on with it.

They were so similar in so many ways. It was shocking to realize just how much they actually had in common.

The loneliness and solitude he had come to live with, she had experienced herself. The pain and the bitterness, he could recognize it on her, for he had felt it himself.

Where are you, Az? Rhys demanded at that moment mentally. Azriel would like to scratch out his eyes, but he didn’t.

I’m flying back to the House, he sent back curtly. Zahra had a headache, so I brought her home.

A headache, Rhys shot back incredulously. Azriel could almost see the look on his High Lord’s face. You really think I will buy that?

I don’t care if you believe me or not, Azriel responded icily, his temper rising already at the tone. It is the truth and I really don’t wish to have a discussion over it.

There was a pause in Rhys’ mind. Then a slight huff. You can be so unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you know that?

Azriel didn’t bother reacting to that.

Elain and Lucien are figuring things out. So keep away from her, Rhys told him sharply.

I am keeping away from her, Azriel shot back, irritation flaring. You really think I will go and ruin this for her?

I don’t know what you are up to, Rhys retorted, and Azriel knew the High Lord was irritated. But I really don’t have the time to deal with your crap right now. That’s an order.

Understood, High Lord, Azriel snarled back and he felt Rhys chuckle in his mind at the tone. I will keep away from your precious Elain, I promise.

Damn right you will, he heard Rhys mutter in his mind and the mental connection between the two of them snapped close.

Azriel snarled in irritation as he landed on his balcony and stalked into his room. It wasn’t enough that he was wrestling with his own emotions, No, he also had Rhys all up his ass about it.

And he was infuriated about the whole thing.

Nobody will suddenly show up and care, he has told Zahra. It was the truth. Nobody would care.

They only cared as long as they got what they wanted from him.

Chip away the pieces they didn’t like. Mould him into a person they could stomach.

Either it was Rhys ordering to keep away from Elain…or ordering him to behave around Mor and Emerie… and to be quite honest…Azriel was done.

It was always him that needed to bend to make everybody else comfortable. Nobody bends for him.

So many years of following orders, of keeping his mouth shut, of bottling up the anger.

Even when everyone around him was getting what they wanted. They got their happily ever after. And he was left behind. Not once did someone ever realize that he was struggling. Not once did someone notice that he needed something…anything. That he was hurting and in pain. Nobody even bothered to check on him, to ask how he was doing.

They all got what they wanted. Mor, Emerie, even Feyre. They all got the mate that they wanted. Rhys, Cassian and even Amren had Varian.

He was the one always helping everyone else. Always the one having to endure everything. Never anything for himself. No love for himself.

Orders, commands, demands…that’s all it ever was. He didn’t get a say in anything. They just expected him to be fine. And if he wasn’t…he had to push through it.

He was the tool that did whatever needed to be done. The spy that got the order to do the dirty work. The shadowsinger that just had to endure everything.

All for scraps of attention.

Azriel was done.

He was so done. With everything. With everyone. With the one-sided affection that he had given in a desperate attempt to feel…something, anything….

He needed to stop expecting to get anything from them.

Zahra did not. She seemed to have given that up a very long time ago

The cold realization that they had been doing the same to her hit him. She was also the tool they used when they needed it. She may not be a spy, but they used her just the same. Expected her to be fine.

She was alone just as much as he was.

Alone and isolated, an afterthought to their family just as much as he was.

***

It was quiet in the little cottage.

Peaceful.

Comfortable.

Sie should be happy. Or at the very least…she should be content, should she not?.

Zahra had a roof over her head. And if she wanted to…she could afford food.

Her job didn’t pay that well, but it wouldn’t leave her starving. She just wasn’t hungry. She seemingly never was.

That was a lie and she knew it. Deep down she was hungry all the time. She just refused to give in to eating. She refused to listen to her body screaming for sustenance. It didn’t matter, anyway. Nobody cared.

She didn’t care.

Something inside her had broken during her bath in that cauldron. Her humanity had burned away and with that…with that everything Zahra had ever wanted.

She didn’t crave anything anymore. Not love. Not affection. Not attention. Not food. It was all gone. All she felt was numb.

Cold, empty and numb. Like her shell had hardened and frozen over.

She had never thought it was possible to feel so damn tired without having done anything.

Zahra forced herself to get up. Forced herself to heat some water on the stove… to make tea. The cheapest tea she had been able to find at the market.

It wasn’t the best. The taste was bitter and the color was more brown than black. But it was tea and she was thirsty enough to drink it.

It wasn’t very warm and left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Like her life itself.

Maybe just dying would have been easier, she reflected bitterly. Was this how eternity would feel? Alone? Tucked away in this cottage?

All her sisters had been given a mating bond. They had been given another person who loved them unconditionally…that was at their side. That wanted them around. That wanted to spent time with them.

And then there was her.

She had been closest to Feyre during the years in that cottage. Nesta gave her the fault for seemingly everything htat had ever gone wrong in her life, though Zahra privately thought that for Nesta, Zahra was just the evidence of another of her father’s failings…Elain…well, Elain was more embarrassed than anything about Zahra’s very existence. But Feyre…well, Feyre hadn’t cared. And so Zahra had tried to dote on her as much as she could.

And then clearly she had been replaced in Feyre’s affections.

She didn’t fault her for that.

Feyre had made her own life. And she had every right to do that. She was busy with her mate and her son and Mor was her best friend and…there was seemingly no place for Zahra there.

Which was fine.

It was.

But if Zahra was completely honest with herself…she was unspeakably jealous of the mating bond of every single one of her sisters.

Of that promise of at least one person that would be on her side, come Hel or High Water.

Clearly, something was wrong with her that she hadn’t been given a Mating Bond.

She wasn’t worth a mate. Clearly, something was broken inside her. Otherwise, the cauldron would have given her a mate, right?

Maybe she was broken so thoroughly that nobody even wanted her.

Why would they? She was a shell of a person, a ghost of the woman she was supposed to be.

She was cold, empty and numb. Everything that nobody could possibly want.

Everyone else got a mate, love and happiness. Not her.

She had nothing.

Her hands clenched around her lukewarm cup of tea.

Some random sparks of light sparked against the mug. A gift from the cauldron. They didn’t seem to do anything but warm whatever they touched. Maybe that was that random power the cauldron had given her. Neither future or death…but…warmth. She supposed it was something.

She wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and she had never bothered telling anybody about it.

Sometimes she allowed herself to play with them when she couldn’t sleep. They were strange and utterly useless.

It wasn’t the power of foresight or the power of a death god…no. She had the stupid power to create sparks. Useless sparks of light.

Oh well.

Complaining about her sparks wasn’t going to help her either.

So she pulled out her work and sat down to do her work as the sun came up and the day went on.

Zahra balanced the account ledgers for one of the apothecaries in Velaris. Which meant she had a whole box of receipts to sort through and put into said ledger.

One receipt at a time, one name after the other.

It kept her busy. It paid well enough. She seemed to have some kind of aptitude for it…maybe the fact that her father was a merchant had come through for once.

She worked until the late evening. Until her eyes couldn’t concentrate on the numbers anymore.Until her back and shoulders ached with pain. She stretched her shoulders back.

She wondered if she should eat something. Her cheese was gone, thanks to Azriel standing over her until she ate it…but she still had one or two slices of bread, didn’t she?

She could go food shopping…buy another bread, another chunk of cheese tomorrow.

Then Zahra heard a knock on the door.

Confusion spread through her. Who would knock on her door at that very late hour? It was after 9 pm already.

She got up, walked towards the door and opened it carefully.

It was the last person she would expected to be standing on the front porch. Azriel.

“I am making you dinner.“

Her eyes widened at that announcement. “You are what?” she asked him dumbly.

He just gave her a deadpan look and pushed past her. “I am cooking dinner because I am assuming that you haven’t eaten yet,” he told her plainly.

It was true. Zahra hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long. But why did he care?? “Why?” she blurted out. “Why do you care if I’ve eaten?”

He gave her a sharp look and pushed her towards the kitchen chair. “Sit down,” he simply ordered and she was too taken aback to protest against it.

He had brought his own ingredients. His own knives, all tucked away in a little basket that he put on her countertop. “Can you peel potatoes?” He asked her as he rummaged through it.

She could just stare at him.

“Who do you think cooked the meat Feyre hunted?” Zahra replied drily.

Azriel froze in the process of digging something out of the basket on the counter. “You can cook?” he asked her and she heard the surprise in his voice.

Zahra let out a snort. “Yes, I can cook,” she retorted. “What did you think I was doing this whole time in the cottage? Twiddling my thumbs?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I had no idea what you were up to,” he told her truthfully. “I thought you were as useless as Elain and Nesta were at that point,” he admitted.

“Nesta did all the cleaning and hacked the wook,” Zara corrected him quietly. “Elain mended. I cooked. Feyre was the only one who hunted. And yes, we should have done more, but I did help run the household. The only one who never helped was our father.” The bitterness bled into her voice at that.

There was a long pause after her admission. Then Azriel exhaled. “I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he muttered. “You don’t strike me as a pampered useless damsel.”

“Thank you for that assessment, Shadowsinger,” she quipped back. “I will make sure to remember it when I need a pick-me-up.”

He put a sack of potatoes in front of her. “I take it I’m peeling potatoes,” Zahra murmured, staring at the sack that was in front of her.

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed in that no-nonsense voice of his. “While I prep the meat. I do hope you like rabbit,” he added drily.

“Oh good,” she muttered, grabbing a knife and started to peel away at the potatoes. “Did you hunt it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice neutral. Zahra bit back a snarky remark and focused on the potatoes.

They worked like that in silence. Him preparing the meat, her peeling the potatoes and the carrots.

It was odd. This whole thing was odd. Sitting and cooking with Azriel. She hadn’t even known he could cook.

And yet…it was comfortable. Like the silence wasn’t awkward and neither of them felt the need to break it. It was a comfortable domestic kind of silence. Like they had done this a thousand times before.

“How are you with spicy food?” Azriel asked her after he had taken the potatoes from her.

Zahra blinked in surprise. “I have a pretty good tolerance, why?” she asked, curious.

“All the food I can cook is Illyrian,” Azriel answered drily. “I learned from Rhys’ mother and later from my own. It’s spicy.”

“I can handle a bit of spice,” she assured him. “It should be fine.” He nodded in response.

The sound of the fire crackling in the stove and him stirring up the meat were the only sounds filling the kitchen as they continued their work.

Zahra honestly had no idea Azriel could cook. He didn’t seem like the type of male who spent time cooped up in the kitchen, making meals. It was a little surprising.

And yet, the scents of spices and rabbit were filling her kitchen right now... It smelled almost heavenly.

She hadn’t smelled something as heavenly in a long time. And her stomach growled in response to the delicious scents of food. Zahra tried to remember when she’d last eaten something actually decent, but she couldn’t think straight. The food was distracting her.

“You look half starved,” Azriel observed in a deadpanned tone and she snapped her head up only to find him looking at her.

His eyes were focused on her, a frown playing on his forehead. “When was the last time you actually ate something properly?” he asked her, his voice firm.

She averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she muttered, looking away from him and to the pot bubbling on the stove. “Maybe a week ago?”

He was silent for a moment. “That long?” he asked her, his voice carefully neutral. She just shrugged in response to keep herself from admitting that she actually couldn’t remember exactly.

He poured hot, thick stew into a bowl for her and then put it in front of her, holding out cutlery for her to take. “Why are you doing this?” Zahra asked him weakly.

“Because I wish somehow had done it for me,” Azriel responded

That simple statement made her blink in surprise. It was not an answer she had been expecting. She bit her lip, not really sure what to say.

And then he simply said. “Eat. You look like you’d blow away at the slightest breeze.”

She should have been angered by that blunt statement, but somehow she wasn’t.

So Zahra ate.

The food tasted incredibly good. She had to admit that the Shadowsinger was talented with cooking. The food was spiced just perfectly, hot and filled with flavour.

Every bite made her realize just how incredibly hungry she was. Her stomach filled slowly and the hunger abated with every spoonful. It was like her insides started to come back to life. The numbness was slowly disappearing, replaced by an odd sort of warmth flowing through her limbs.

"Thank you," she finally said weakly.

Azriel just nodded at her, watching her eat. “Of course,” he murmured and continued with his own food.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #Stars all aligned

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jihyoruri · 2 days

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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ SUPER RICH KIDS kim chaewon x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick

↳ warnings richgirl!yn, angst (yn is back home), family dynamics, rich kid things, swearing, chaewon is still chaewon, arguing, weight mentions

finally.

you’d think after everything that someone has gone through in this house, stepping back through those doors would be the last thing she’d want. but she wasn’t going to lie.

yn felt at peace.

because in the moon mansion, she could be who she truly was and not feel bad about it.

a rich girl.

“lunch will be ready soon,” jia’s voice broke through the peaceful quiet as yn lay sprawled on her pink towel by the pool.

yn let out a contented sigh, lifting her sunglasses and pushing her hair back. “thanks, jia. what’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”

“you already attended the press conference with your father, so that’s off your list. your brothers will be going to the one tomorrow, so all you’ve got left is golfing with your members.”

the happy, serene soundtrack in yn’s head came to a screeching halt as she shot up from her towel.

“what?!”

“your mother didn’t tell you? she thought it’d be a good idea for you to invite them, so she reached out while you were out with your father,” jia said, her expression full of concern. she didn’t understand. shouldn’t yn be excited?

“when does she ever tell me anything?” yn grumbled, flopping back down on her towel childishly “jia, during dinner, add a splash of vodka to my mango juice. maybe the alcohol will keep me from flipping the table.”

jia chuckled softly, fondness in her eyes for the girl she’d watched grow up. “when has that ever helped anything? i’ll check on lunch.”

yn groaned as jia walked away. this was supposed to be her escape. chaewon is going to have a field day with this.

it seems like nothing can ever go yn’s way.

dinner was quiet. but that was hardly unusual. as far back as yn could remember, dinner had never been family bonding time

bonding didn’t even exist in this family.

the unspoken rule was simple: eat in silence, speak only when necessary.

honestly, yn found the quiet pretty peaceful. just eating, no forced conversation.

but it seemed like her mother couldn’t stand seeing her at peace—ever.

maybe that was an exaggeration, but yn firmly believed it.

“you seem tense, yn,” jae said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he took a slow sip from his drink. “something bothering you? got a problem with someone?”

yn gripped her fork tightly, slowly lifting her gaze from her plate. “i do, actually. and for once, it’s not with you, dickhead.”

“language,” their father muttered, eyes never leaving the documents he’d brought to the table.

“oh really, who’s ahead of me?” jae asked clearly liking the banter him and yn are having at the moment.

“I won’t disclose any details just as yet.”

daeun rolled his eyes at his siblings, then, deciding to break the silence since everyone seemed eager to chat, he asked, “so, mom, how was your day?”

their mother beamed at the question, her smile bright and warm. oh, how she adored her son. yn couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“it was amazing, honey. i was just reading an article about your sister’s group.”

“oh, really?” jae responded with mild interest.

“yes! that yunjin member mentioned how she always makes sure the other girls eat and stay healthy. isn’t that wonderful? yn, you have such lovely members.”

as far as yn was concerned, yunjin had never once asked if she was eating properly. but that wasn’t what set her off, she had kazuha who always checked in on her.

it was the nerve her mother had to praise yunjin for something like that—the same person who was the root cause of yn’s so-called “problem.”

“is that why you invited them over tomorrow—without asking me?”

yn hadn’t planned on bringing it up, but her mother’s comment set her off.

her mother furrowed her eyebrows at yn’s tone. “yes, actually. they seem like lovely girls. i was going to suggest you invite those ai girls you’re so fond of, but your judgment isn’t always the best, so i made the decision for you.”

the screech of yn’s chair echoed through the dining room. “i’m not hungry anymore, because clearly no one in this family respects me. may i be excused?”

“sure,” her father said casually, taking a sip of his wine.

“oh, come on, yn! let’s not fall back into those habits,” jae teased.

”fuck you jae!”

“language.”

“you don’t like them, do you?”

yn lifted her head from her pillow, turning slowly to see daeun standing at her door.

“what?”

“the girls in your group. you don’t like them.”

she watched as he stepped forward and sat at the edge of her fluffy bed. “you wouldn’t have reacted that way if it were the girls from sm.”

yn hated how daeun could always read her. they barely talked nowadays, but he still knew his little sister like the back of his hand.

“it’s not that I don’t like them. they don’t like me. no matter how much I lower myself or how nice i act, it’s like they can’t get over the fact that i’m a moon.”

“you lowered yourself for them?”

yn’s eyes flicked up from her lap to see jae standing at the door, disappointment written across his face.

she nodded, feeling a wave of shame. they were raised to believe they were better than everyone else, and here she was, bending over backward for girls who didn’t even like her.

“well, that was your first mistake,” jae said, shaking his head as daeun nodded in agreement.

“you’re dimming who you are to make them feel comfortable, and they’re taking advantage of that,” daeun added, hitting the nail on the head. yn hated how right he was.

“i know you, yn. you’re a bitch—a real one,” jae said with a smirk, earning an eye roll from her. “just be who you are. that’s how you’ll show them. it seems like they can’t stand the fact that you were always going to be successful, idol or not, and they hate that.”

“woah.” yn blinked in disbelief, looking between her brothers. “for once, you two actually make sense.”

“see? a bitch.”

yn adjusted the dior sunglasses perched atop her head, then straightened her pink ralph lauren golf dress before turning to jia.

“why are they taking so long? it’s a gated community,” she complained, tapping her foot as she stood in front of her expansive front lawn.

“patience is key, miss moon. the van is pulling up,” jia replied calmly.

yn felt anxiety creep in but quickly reminded herself of her brother's words. this wasn’t the dorms; this was her turf, the place where yn excelled.

the first person to step out of the van was kazuha, who immediately sprinted toward her.

“zuha!”

“you look so cute! i love your dress,” kazuha gushed, her eyes scanning yn’s outfit she couldn’t help but smile at how relaxed yn looked, she was completely in her element.

“thanks! my dad got it. it’s vintage!” yn beamed.

“of course he did.” yn already knew who that could be.

as she looked past kazuha, she noticed the rest of the girls gazing at her house in awe, it was kinda awkward seeing them, especially after the last time, but yn was just gonna pretend like that day never happened.

yunjin nudged chaewon, nodding toward jia, who narrowed her eyes at chaewon, causing the latter's eyes to widen.

chaewon hadn’t realized someone else was there.

yn couldn’t help but smile at that. “this is jia, the help.”

the girls nodded politely, while kazuha waved, causing yn to furrow her brows. “bow?”

the girls’ eyes widened at the unexpected demand but quickly bowed their heads.

“we treat the help with great respect around here,” yn said sternly . “so take note of that for next time.”

kazuha smiled at yn while the others nodded, a mix of confusion and compliance on their faces.

“so, who’s ready to golf?” yn asked, flashing a sweet smile.

“you guys suck,” yn laughed, watching the girls struggle with their golf swings.

“well, not everyone has been doing this since birth,” chaewon shot back, rolling her eyes.

“you’re so right! it would take a lot to be like me, wouldn’t it?” yn teased, nudging chaewon’s side causing the girl to stumble “your form is horrendous.”

she strolled over to eunchae, adjusting the younger girl’s stance, then moved on to yunjin.

chaewon’s gaze drifted down yn’s body, taking in her outfit of course, she didn’t even know people actually wore dresses like that these days.

she was about to make a snarky comment when a loud shout interrupted her.

“ignore them it’s just the golf boys,” yn said as she corrected sakura’s form.

chaewon rolled her eyes when she heard the boys calling out yn’s name in a flirty tone.

“passed around?”

yn groaned at chaewon’s words. “I’ve only talked to them a handful of times. I barely know them.”

“i talk to the caddy girls a lot, though,” yn added, causing kazuha to laugh while chaewon scrunched her face in distaste.

“do you want my help with your form?” yn asked chaewon, raising an eyebrow.

“definitely not.”

“okay, then continue embarrassing yourself.”

chaewon opened her mouth to argue but was cut off by a woman’s voice.

“yn!”

the girls turned to see yn’s mother approaching, and yn groaned, rolling her eyes. “why is she here?” she mumbled to herself.

the girls recognized the woman—it was yn’s mother.

“hey, ladies! I hope you’re having fun and that yn is being a good host,” she said with a bright smile.

the girls greeted yn’s mom with polite smiles, and she continued, “I just wanted to drop off some cute gifts i got for you all. I completely forgot about them! I had to stop the driver we just left from going to lunch.”

“lunch?” yn asked, the emotion in her voice hard to pinpoint. “you guys went to lunch without me?”

“honey, it’s not a big deal. don’t be dramatic! we were just celebrating your brother’s achievements just an intimate get together that I planned.”

yn couldn’t remember them ever holding something for her achievements, and she had plenty. “right,” yn laughed sarcastically. “i’m always so dramatic, huh?”

the girls exchanged awkward glances; they had never seen yn like this before.

“don’t act like that. god, you’re just like your father,” her mother said, brushing off yn's feelings.

yn clenched her jaw. “is that all? you just came by to drop off gifts?”

“yes, and i wanted to check on you. stop being so moody! just like your dad. my boys are more like me,” her mom said with a smile, prompting awkward laughter from the girls.

“you see how she argues with me, such a daddy’s girl, she looks like a girl version of him as well doesn’t she?.” her mother laughs causing yn to look at chaewon who looks at back at her with a blank face.

“how about you go back to your boys? they’re probably waiting for ‘mommy’,” yn snapped, glaring at her mother.

she had never spoken to her mother this way before, but as she got older, her respect for the woman had diminished. she barely considered her mother a mom anymore.

“yes, i have to go. we’re going shopping to pick out suits for your father and brothers.”

yn felt as if she had been punched in the gut. family shopping—without her? everyone knows yn loves shopping.

“did you plan that too?” she shot back.

her mother ignored yn’s words, stepping back to scan her daughter. “this outfit is cute. it looks good on you. maybe lose a couple more pounds, and it’ll look even better.”

the girls’ eyes widened at her mother’s words, but yn remained unfazed on the outside.

inside, however, yn felt the sting. she tried to pretend she didn’t care about her mom’s opinion, but deep down, she knew she’d spend extra time on her diet after that.

“anyway, I have to go. it was nice seeing you girls! i hope you like the gifts,” her mother said before walking away.

the girls turned to yn, who stared at her mother’s retreating figure before turning back to them.

“I just love my perfect life, don’t ’ I chaewon? now let’s work on your imperfect form.”

#richgirl!yn #chaewon #kim chaewon #chaewon x reader #kim chaewon x reader #le sserafim x reader #lesserafim #lesserafim x reader #girl group imagines #chaewon le sserafim

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runnning-outof-time · 3 days

Text

Tommy & His Girls | Tommy Shelby x Reader

read more of the Girl Dad Mini Series — HERE.

request: yes by anonymous

pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

summary: When things get rough, Tommy can most certainly count on the girls in his life to lighten things up.

warnings: drinking, smoking, Tommy being a horsegirl

word count: 2089

a/n: back at it with another girl dad!Tommy fic - I just love using this little family I’ve created (if you couldn’t tell) I hope you like this installment of their story!! p.s…I’m sorry if the ending’s corny…I didn’t know how to, well, end it. Enjoy!! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Tommy barely said a word as he entered Arrow House. He handed his things to Frances and made a b-line to his study. Things with the business were rough today...they'd been rough for as far back as Tommy could remember. It seemed like he was the only one in the family pulling the weight and that left him feeling like there was war happening inside his head as he made the drive home.

He pushed his study's door closed behind him as he walked into the room, not even caring if the door had enough velocity to latch or not. He trudged his way to his desk after pouring himself a generous glass of whiskey. Half of it was downed in the first drink; he really wanted the pain in his head to cease.

Setting the glass down, he went through the motions of lighting himself a cigarette. The first, deep drag he took finally made some of the noise quiet down.

It's unclear how long he sat like that: slumped back on his chair with a cigarette burning between his fingers. The next time he came to, however, was when the office door opened slightly.

"Dad?" a small voice came from the opposite side of the room, making Tommy sit up straighter in his seat.

"Yeah," he answered, his voice not quite audible. He cleared his throat before responding louder, "yes?" He focused in on the doorway, seeing his oldest daughter, Thea, standing in it.

The young girl said nothing else as she fully entered the room and made her way right over to his desk. “You didn’t come to my room to say hello,” she stated, a slight frown present on her face.

She stopped in front of his chair as she finished speaking, her arms open to show him that she wanted a hug. The second he opened his, she fell into them.

Tommy let out a sigh as he felt the weight of his eldest daughter against him. “Hello, Thea,” he breathed, a sigh escaping with his words. He couldn’t deny the fact that he felt terrible in that moment. He always made sure to greet Thea when he returned home from work, no matter what type of day he had.

How could he have gotten so frustrated that he forgot one of the most important parts of his day?

Thea was the one to break away from the hug — Tommy could have sat there like that all evening if she allowed it — and step back to look at her father.

He watched her, waiting to see what she’d do next. To his surprise, she made her way over to one of the seats that faced his desk and sat down.

The two stared at each other for a few moments longer. Thea looked as if she was studying her father; like she was taking notes on the entire situation. Tommy was quite confused as to why the ten year old wanted to stick around after greeting him.

Finally, after several moments of silence, he had to ask her just that, “why have you decided to stay, love?”

“I was able to tell that you’re stressed out over work, dad. I don’t want to leave you alone,” she answered him, sounding simultaneously like a ten year old and like a person who was beyond their years.

Tommy took a moment to let her words sink in. Then he couldn’t help but smile as a soft chuckle escaped his lips. The innocence that his daughters held despite the line of work their father was present in was always something that grounded him, no matter what was going on. He knew that he could count on it to bring him back down from that position of power to just being their dad.

“You can keep working,” Thea’s voice broke through his thoughts, making him realize that he had been sitting there, staring at her for some time.

Tommy glanced down at the papers that were scattered across his desk. They were covered with statements that he truly didn’t want to read anymore. Then he looked to one of the photographs that sat proudly on his desk. It was of Thea, Evie, and Juni. They were all hugging onto each other and smiling their biggest smiles. His eyes finally moved to Thea, who was still sitting with a smile on her face.

“I can’t work any longer,” he said to her then as he stood from his chair, “let’s go and see what your sisters are doing,” he suggested, his statement making Thea rise from her seat as well.

Tommy and Thea found Evie and Juni playing in the front room.

“Dad’s home!” Thea exclaimed, making the two younger girls quickly turn around.

“Dad!” they both cheered in unison, smiles lighting up their faces.

Tommy smiled as they rushed over to hug him. He could slowly feel the stress leaving his body. “Hello, girls,” he greeted them, rubbing both of their backs as they held onto him tightly.

“Come play, dad!” Juni exclaimed as she pulled away from him to go back to the toys they had strewn about on the floor.

“Have you ladies finished your homework?” he asked the older two before making his decision.

“Course I have,” Evie answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “it was too easy.”

“Mine’s finished as well,” Thea answered with a smile.

“Good,” Tommy nodded, smiling at his girls.

“Let’s play!” Juni shrieked from where she was standing by the toys. By this time she already had one leg in one of the ‘princess dresses’ that the girls had specially made for them. Tommy smiled as he saw the one she’d chosen - it was one that Thea had been given when she was little.

“What game?” Tommy asked, watching as his other girls followed suit and grabbed the things they needed from their toy chest.

“Princesses, of course,” Evie answered like it was common sense….well, in this Shelby household it kind of was. Tommy chuckled at that thought.

“Thea’s the queen!” Juni shouted excitedly.

“She’s always the queen though!” Evie protested, a frown on her face as her hands dropped to her hips.

“I’m the queen because I’m the oldest,” Thea calmly explained to her disgruntled sister, “it’s just one of my jobs as the oldest sibling. You and Juni are princesses because you’re my younger sisters, and you’ll get to be queen once I’m older.”

Tommy couldn’t help but smile as he listened to her explanation. She was truly wise beyond her years, and she handled everything with such grace.

“Fine,” Evie huffed, deciding to accept the decision even though she sounded a little disappointed.

“What’s my part in this?” Tommy asked the three once their conversation had ended.

“The part you always are, dad,” Evie was the one to answer.

“Got it,” Tommy nodded, surpressing a groan as he lowered himself to the floor. I’m getting too old for this, he thought to himself, but he didn’t dare let that feeling show. He’d never turn down the opportunity to play with his girls.

(Y/N) was finally finished with discussing all of the changes that were to be made with the grounds and house keepers. A lot went into preparing Arrow House as one season rolled into the next. Despite the magnitude of the task and all of the moving parts that were involved, (Y/N) would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy overseeing these changes.

Now, however, she was more than ready to get back to her family.

She was able to hear them before she saw them. The giggles of her girls and one of Tommy’s unmistakable impressions. She laughed to herself just hearing it.

The sight she was met with in the front room brought the widest smile to her face. “What’s going on in here?” she made her presence known with a question.

“Mum!” came as a chorus of yells from the three girls as they forgot what they were doing to run and greet her.

“Hello, my darlings,” she greeted them, eagerly accepting their hugs. “What’re you playing in here with dad?”

“Princesses!” Juniper chirped, holding up her wand excitedly.

“Ahh,” (Y/N) nodded in understanding, “and what part is dad playing?”

“He’s the prized horse,” Evie happily answered.

(Y/N) finally looked to her husband. The sight she was met with had her stifling her laughter. Tommy was still down on all fours, and was wearing a rather strained expression as he looked at her through the longer strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes.

“Of course he is,” she finally responded, grinning at him before focusing her attention on the girls. “How about we give him a break now, hmm? Frances has informed me that dinner is ready,” she then suggested.

No pushback was received from any of the girls, who promptly began making their way to the dining room.

(Y/N) looked over at Tommy again. He was now wearing a look of relief, and he matched his eyes with hers again just briefly before he began the process of standing up. (Y/N) couldn’t help but giggle at his predicament, waiting for him to be on his feet again before she started walking to the dining room.

For once, Tommy was actually relieved to have heard that dinner was ready.

After dinner the family decided to go out onto the grounds and enjoy one of the final warm, late fall evenings before winter hit.

Juniper, of course, wanted to go to the stables and check on the horses. Tommy happily took her while the older two stayed back with (Y/N). It wasn’t a surprise, however, when he saw the three cresting the hill to join them in the stables.

Later that night, Tommy was - surprisingly - ready to be in bed at the same time as (Y/N). He helped out with tucking the girls in, wanting to spend as much time with them as he could.

(Y/N) didn’t miss the groan that left his lips as he sat down on his side of the bed. “Not as nimble of a horse as you used to be, huh?” she teasingly commented, biting on her finger to stiffle her giggles when his head snapped to look at her. “Maybe they should put you out to pasture.”

Tommy shot her a look that told her she should watch what she was saying. His look made her giggles escape.

“They’ll still treat you as their prized pony,” she conceded, moving over to where he was so that she could drape her arms over his shoulders. “You know how much they enjoy having you play with them,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.

Tommy smiled at the sentiment, nodding his head slightly as he brought his hand up to set it against the spot her wrists crossed each other.

“I don’t believe I’ve asked you…” (Y/N) started after a few moments had passed. She lifted her head from his neck before continuing, “how was your day?”

A breath of a laugh left his lips and he closed his eyes for a moment, silently recounting his day’s events and deciphering what he wanted to tell her. “I came home stressed, but the girls were able to put me into a better mood,” he decided not to go too far into details, settling with a short summary.

“They’ve stolen my job then, hmm?” her question wasn’t the sort of response that he was excepting, and it was one that had him turning his head in confusion, hoping that she’d offer more explanation. “It used to be my job to put you into a better mood,” she remarked, the smile she was wearing telling him that she wasn’t being completely serious about this.

“All of you girls put me in a better mood,” he responded in a matter-of-fact tone before adding, “don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And that was the truth. Without those girls, he probably would have still been in his office, droning over the same stack of papers and nursing his umpteenth whiskey.

Without those girls, he probably would have had to deal with another night of keeping his demons at bay as the shovels hit against the walls.

Without his girls, he would most certainly be a completely different man than the one he is today.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver

@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder

@cillmequick @strayrockette @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

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dixons-sunshine · 3 days

Text

So Beautiful | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl had never fully shown you his scars before. He was too afraid of what you might think of him if he did. However, after being together for a while, he decided to finally bite the bullet and show you what he had kept hidden from your view for so long.

Genre: Mostly fluff, some angst if you squint.

Era: Prison, pre season four, post season three.

Warnings: Swearing, Daryl is insecure in this (I wanna hold him and reassure him that everything is okay), mentions of past abuse.

Word count: 1.5k.

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble, but it ran away from me lol. I hope y’all like this!

Daryl was breathing heavily. His chest was rising and falling quickly as he tried to control his breathing and ease his anxiety. It wasn’t the first time someone had seen his scars, he tried to remind himself. Carol had seen them. Merle had seen them. Hershel had seen them. It wasn’t like nobody knew of them, but he knew that this time was different.

This wasn’t some random person that had to patch up some injury he had sustained. This was you. His partner. The one he cared for deeply, on a whole other level than he did others, on a level that the archer was sure was love. The one he could see himself spending the rest of his life with, however short that might be. That made you different from the rest. You were so vastly different.

Talks of the abuse the archer had endured had come up from time to time, but only on Daryl’s terms. You never pressed to hear more about his childhood, knowing that Daryl would tell you on his own time if he wanted you to know. And sure enough, slowly but surely, over the months the two of you had been together ‘officially’, Daryl had slowly started opening up to you. However, he had never shown you the scars on his back before. He had allowed you to patch up a wound on his chest before, and that had been the most you had gotten to physically see of the cruel pain that had been inflicted on him in his life.

Until now.

The scars on Daryl’s back were on full display for your eyes to see as he sat on the edge of the bed in your shared cell with him. With his back turned to you, he didn’t have to witness the reaction you would give him. He feared a disgusted reaction, a sharp intake of breath as you fully gouged the extent of the pain he had endured that were gruesomely carved into his skin, a permanent, cruel reminder of his father’s abuse. He feared that you would shrink away from him, that you would see him like the worthless piece of garbage most people in his life had viewed him as, like he viewed himself as most times. And the worst part was that he wouldn’t even blame you if you did.

However, he had not expected to hear your voice calling out to him, that usual softness and love he always associated with your beautiful voice as present as ever.

“Is it okay if I touch them?” you asked him softly, your tone of voice gentle and sincere. You weren’t pressing, weren’t insisting on touching them. You were simply asking, and you would be completely okay with it if he said no.

Daryl did not turn his head to look at you, too nervous to do so just yet. However, after a few beats of silence and contemplation, Daryl hesitantly nodded his head. He anxiously awaited the soft touch of your fingers, but they never came. Instead, Daryl felt a soft, tender prodding from something soft against the highest scar on his back, a slight wetness being left in its wake. As the prodding slowly trailed down the scar and onto the next one, he quickly figured out that the soft prodding was caused by your slightly chapped lips.

Daryl sighed quietly at the oddly comforting feeling, an involuntary shiver rolling over his spine. He closed his eyes, relishing in the comfort your actions were bringing him. Slowly but surely, as your kisses trailed over each scar on his back, his initial uneasiness started fading away, instead being replaced by a sense of contentment and love, all thanks to you.

As you placed a final kiss to the lowest scar on his back, you raised up from the bed and moved to stand in front of him. Daryl ducked his gaze down to the floor beneath him, suddenly feeling nervous all over again, but you didn’t allow him to do so. You gingerly took a hold of his chin with your forefinger and thumb, and you gently tipped his head up, making him look at you.

Looking deeply into the eyes of the man you loved most, you sent him a small, soft, reassuring smile. “You’re so beautiful, Dar.”

Daryl scoffed at your words. “Ain’t beautiful,” he denied your statement. However, he couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered at your words. He had never been called beautiful before. He had always considered it to be a feminine compliment, a compliment reserved only for women, a compliment he reserved only for you. So why his heart started beating faster and his cheeks started burning at your compliment, he didn’t know.

You laughed softly at his denial, shaking your head as if he had said the most absurd thing humanly possible. And to you, he had. It broke your heart that the man in front of you could not see himself the way you saw him: loyal, fierce, kind, unendingly fucking beautiful. There were so many other things that could describe the archer, and almost none of them were negative. Sure, everyone had their flaws, and there was no denying that Daryl had his flaws as well, but they were part of what made him Daryl. They made him the man you loved, and there was little that you wanted to change about him.

Except the way he isolated himself when it mattered most to talk to people, and the way he viewed himself, but other than that, he was perfect.

“Well, you’re beautiful to me, Dar,” you told him, your hand moving from under his chin to cup his cheeks instead. You rubbed soothing circles over the stubbled skin of his face with your thumb, your eyes looking deeply into the ocean-coloured ones of your partner. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t they say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Well, I’m the beholder, and this beholder is telling you that you’re fucking gorgeous.”

Your other hand came up to his chest, your fingers gingerly tracing over one of the jagged marks on his broad frame. “These don’t take away from the way I see you, Dar. If anything, it makes my view of you even better. All this shows me is that life threw you a lot of fucking curve balls before all of this, and you prevailed. Do you know how strong that makes you? How brave?” You shook your head with a huff of laughter, the sound one of wonder. “God, I can’t even begin to explain how much these don’t deter me at all. They’re relics of a time in your life you overcame, a time in your life I see you trying not to let define your present and future. If that’s not the epitome of strength, I don’t know what is.”

Daryl was rendered absolutely speechless. You truly believed that of him? All of that? You couldn’t, could you? Unwillingly, a lump formed in the archer’s throat. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe that you thought so highly of him, even after he showed you what he considered the ugliest part of him, physically speaking. However, his heart swelled at the knowledge that you did not view him any differently than you had before. You still looked at him with such love, a love he oftentimes felt he didn’t deserve, but he definitely was not about to throw it away, either.

“Thanks,” Daryl mumbled awkwardly at your high praise of him. He did not know what else to say. He wanted to say so many things to show how much he appreciated your words, how much he appreciated you, but he just did not know how.

You smiled at the singular word that left your partner’s mouth. It was so simple, so underwhelming, so undeniably Daryl. To most people, that simple response would be a punch to the gut after such a heartfelt confession, but to you, the response was enough. Daryl was a man of action, not a man of words. He showed his appreciation to your declaration in the form of his hands coming to rest and your hips, slightly tugging you forward to stand closer to him, albeit in-between his legs. He also showed it in the way his eyes sparkled up at you, the emotions swirling around in his beautiful irises conveying more than words ever could.

“Of course,” you replied softly to his thanks, your hand trailing up from his bare chest, up his face and to his hair. Your fingers ran through his brown locks, gently untangling any knots in their wake. “You have no idea how amazing you are to me, Daryl Dixon, but I promise, for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll never stop trying to show you.”

Daryl’s heart both sped up and stopped simultaneously. Your admission made the archer want to cling on to you and never let you go. He had wanted something, someone like that his whole life. Someone who could look past everything and still love him unconditionally. And he had found it. He had found you, and he certainly did not intend to ever let you slip through his fingers.

“Guess yer gon’ be stuck with me forever, then,” Daryl said in his gruff tone of voice, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

A small chuckle escaped your chest. “I really don’t mind the sound of that.”

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gyuuberryy · 2 days

Text

from foe to forever

pairing: prince!jake x pirate!reader, ft jungwon

synopsis: when prince jake’s wild behaviour leads to his capture by you, a daring pirate, you think it's just another ransom job. but as jake discovers the excitement of life at sea, your initial plans start to unravel. amidst adventure and unexpected feelings, both of you must navigate a complex web of desires and duties, ultimately facing a choice that could transform your lives forever.

genre: enemies to lovers, adventure, humour??

warnings: suggestive content!! kissing, drinking, bratty!jake, reader is mean at first(she's a pirate so duh) but character development trust! , kidnapping, pirate behaviour, constant mentions of being thrown overboard, looting, a bad storm, angst

note: i went overboard with the writing because i just love this plot so much! and my love for strong female leads also fuelled this hehe. enjoyy~

word count: 22.2k(sorry!)

royally yours masterlist | prev:jay | next:sunghoon

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the scent of saltwater and the faint hum of night creatures drift through the open windows of the castle’s grand hall, mingling with the rich perfume of flowers and candle wax. but despite the setting’s elegance, the tension in the air is palpable.

“you will marry her, jake,” the king says, his voice a low, commanding rumble that reverberates through the vast chamber. “the alliance with her kingdom will secure our borders and ensure peace. this is not up for debate.”

jake’s heart pounds in his chest, anger and frustration boiling over. “it’s always about the kingdom, isn’t it?” he snaps, his voice cracking under the strain of suppressed emotion. “what about what i want? have you ever thought about that?”

the king’s eyes harden, his mouth pressing into a thin line. “what you want is irrelevant. you are a prince. you have duties, responsibilities—”

“duties?” jake interrupts, his voice rising. “you mean being a pawn in your political games? i’m a person, not a piece on a chessboard!”

“enough!” the king’s shout echoes off the stone walls, silencing the room. the courtiers and advisors standing along the edges glance away, uncomfortable witnesses to the familial strife. “you will do as you are told, or you will be stripped of your title. is that what you want?”

jake’s breath hitches, the threat striking deep. but instead of backing down, it fuels his rage. he turns sharply, storming out of the hall without another word, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.

he needs to get out. away from the suffocating expectations, away from the life that feels like a gilded cage closing in around him. without a second thought, he heads for the stables, saddles his horse, and rides hard toward the port.

the port is alive with activity, even at this late hour. lanterns flicker along the docks, casting dancing shadows over crates and barrels stacked haphazardly on the cobblestone streets. the mingling scents of saltwater, fish, and the faint aroma of cooking food fill the air, blending with the murmur of voices and the occasional shout.

jake dismounts, his legs unsteady beneath him, and stumbles toward the nearest tavern. he pushes through the door, the sudden warmth and noise hitting him like a wave. the place is packed with sailors, merchants, and travellers, all jostling for space at the bar or crammed around rough wooden tables.

he makes his way to the counter, slamming a few coins down with a defiant thud. “wine,” he orders, his voice clipped, already half-regretting coming here. but the thought of returning to the castle, to the cold, judgmental eyes of his father, is unbearable.

the bartender, an older man with a weary expression, gives him a sceptical look before pouring a generous glass of deep red wine. jake downs it in one gulp, the liquid burning a path down his throat and settling like a lead weight in his stomach. he signals for another.

it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to take hold, dulling the edges of his anger, turning his thoughts sluggish and blurred. he drinks more, his head buzzing, the world tilting and swaying around him. the tavern becomes a haze of laughter and music, the faces around him blurring into a confusing swirl.

jake stands, the room spinning as he lurches toward the door. he needs air. the port outside is cooler, the breeze off the water sharp against his flushed skin. he staggers down the street, past warehouses and shipyards, the distant calls of sailors and the creak of wooden hulls filling the night.

he’s barely aware of his surroundings, his thoughts a tangled mess. his father’s voice, cold and unyielding, echoes in his mind. you will do as you are told.

his grip tightens around the empty bottle in his hand, a surge of bitterness rising in his chest. what’s the point of being a prince if he has no freedom, no say in his own life?

a sharp laugh escapes him, bitter and hollow, as he sways dangerously close to the edge of the dock, peering down at the dark water below. maybe he should just jump. see what the sea has to offer. it can’t be worse than the life he’s stuck in now.

“prince jake, making a scene again,” someone mutters, and jake spins toward the voice, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“what did you say?” he demands, his voice slurred, wavering between arrogance and vulnerability. but the speaker—a grizzled old sailor—just shakes his head and turns away, clearly not interested in a fight.

jake scoffs, tipping his bottle back for another long gulp. the wine burns down his throat, but it’s a good burn, a grounding one. the kind that keeps him from thinking too much, from feeling too much.

his father’s words echo in his mind, and he takes another drink to drown them out. it’s not fair. none of it is fair. he’s supposed to be a prince, not a puppet. he’s supposed to have choices, damn it.

somewhere in the fog of his thoughts, he hears someone calling his name. a guard, maybe, or a servant sent to drag him back to the palace. jake ignores them, staggering away, further down the docks, away from the prying eyes and the whispered gossip.

he stops near the end of the pier, where the water laps quietly against the posts, dark and deep beneath the pale moonlight. the waves are hypnotic, soothing in their endless rhythm, and for a moment, he closes his eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over his heated skin.

“i don’t know what i want,” he mutters to the empty night. “i don’t know what i’m supposed to do…”

from the deck of your ship, you had been watching the entire scene unfold with growing amusement.

your ship had been docked for the past few days at the kingdom’s bustling port, quietly resupplying while avoiding any unwanted attention from the royal guards or port authorities. it was a place of wealth and opportunity, perfect for pirates like you to slip through the cracks and gather supplies, crew, and sometimes, new opportunities.

and tonight, an opportunity had wandered right into your line of sight.

“captain,” jungwon said quietly, his eyes also fixed on the drunken prince below. your first mate, always alert, always sharp. he stood beside you at the bow of the ship, arms crossed, the shadow of a smirk on his lips as he glanced at the scene below. “isn’t that the royal brat we’ve heard about?”

you didn’t answer at first, too busy studying the scene unfolding at the dock. prince jake—dishevelled, clearly intoxicated, and seemingly alone—was making a spectacle of himself. despite the late hour, there were still enough people around to whisper and mutter as the prince stumbled about, oblivious to their stares.

“looks like he’s having himself quite the night,” you remarked, a sly grin curling across your lips.

jungwon raised an eyebrow. “seems like he’s also forgotten he’s the heir to the kingdom. i’d bet he’s about to make a fool of himself before sunrise.”

you chuckled softly, your mind already working through the possibilities. “or… we could help him make an even bigger fool of himself.” you glanced at jungwon, your eyes gleaming with mischief. “how much do you think a prince is worth in ransom?”

jungwon’s smirk widened. “more than enough to keep us comfortable for a while.”

your gaze flicked back to jake. the wine had clearly taken hold of him, his steps becoming more erratic, his words slurred and aimless. his father had likely forced him into some political arrangement—probably that marriage you’d heard whispers of. how fitting that the prince, buckling under pressure, would run to the one place where a pirate could take advantage of him.

the idea of holding a prince for ransom made your fingers twitch with greed. the thought of the king, scrambling to rescue his son, made your heart race with anticipation. and besides, the prince was practically serving himself up to you on a silver platter.

“get the crew ready,” you ordered jungwon, stepping back from the railing. “i think it’s time we gave the good prince a proper introduction to life at sea.”

jungwon nodded, already slipping into action. the rest of the crew moved with quiet efficiency as they prepared for the impromptu kidnapping. there was no need for loud orders or clumsy manoeuvres—your crew knew how to handle this. you’d done it before, and you’d do it again. but this time, the stakes were much, much higher.

your boots clicked against the wooden planks as you descended the gangway, your crew flanking you. the night air was cool and sharp, the faint scent of seaweed and brine mixing with the distant aroma of the city behind you. as you approached the drunken prince, you couldn’t help but smile. he was still mumbling to himself, oblivious to the danger that had begun circling him.

“good evening, your highness,” you said, your voice low and dripping with mockery.

jake turned, blinking at you with bleary, confused eyes. he was handsome, you had to admit—handsome in that polished, princely way that marked him as soft, unused to the real world beyond his royal walls. his tousled hair fell into his eyes as he squinted at you, trying to make sense of your presence.

“wha—who are you?” he slurred, swaying slightly. his gaze flicked to the men behind you, then back to your face, the confusion deepening. “what… what do you want?”

you smiled, taking a slow step closer, letting him feel the weight of your presence. “oh, nothing much. just a little ransom. you know how it goes.”

jake frowned, trying to comprehend your words through the haze of alcohol. “ransom…?”

“you, my dear prince, are coming with me,” you said smoothly. “don’t worry, it’s nothing personal. just business. you understand business, right?”

he stumbled backward as your crew moved in, panic flashing across his features. “no, wait—what—what are you doing?” his voice rose, but it was too late. jungwon had already seized him by the arm, the prince’s drunken protests falling on deaf ears as your crew quickly subdued him, binding his wrists.

“you can struggle all you want,” you said, your voice calm, almost amused. “but it won’t do you any good. you’re coming aboard my ship now, your highness. congratulations, you’ve been promoted from prince to captive.”

jake cursed under his breath, his attempts at resistance clumsy and ineffective. the sight of him, so out of his element, so thoroughly unprepared for the world you inhabited, made your grin widen. he had no idea what was in store for him.

jungwon gave you a brief nod as the crew hauled jake toward the ship. “this is going to be interesting.”

“very,” you replied, your eyes still on the prince. the ransom you’d demand would be enough to keep your crew well-fed and supplied for a long time. maybe even enough to retire somewhere warm and far away.

the thought of the king’s panic when he realised his son had been taken made your blood sing with excitement. this was going to be a payday worth remembering.

jake’s head felt like it had been split in two.

groaning, he slowly blinked his eyes open, wincing as a sharp pain lanced through his skull. everything hurt—his temples throbbed, his mouth was dry, and his stomach churned in protest against the excess of wine from the night before. it took a moment for his vision to clear, the blurred shapes around him slowly coming into focus.

he was lying on a rough, uncomfortable mattress, a thin, scratchy blanket draped over him. the room was dim, lit only by a thin sliver of sunlight seeping through a small, grimy window high up on the wall. wooden beams crisscrossed above him, the ceiling low and oppressive. the walls were bare, made of dark, weathered wood that creaked softly as the entire room seemed to sway and shift.

jake sat up with a start, his head spinning from the sudden movement. he clutched his forehead, trying to piece together the fragments of last night’s memories. the port, the wine, his father’s angry voice ringing in his ears—those memories were clear enough. but everything after that was a blur.

he tried to stand, but his legs felt unsteady, his balance thrown off by the gentle rocking beneath his feet. the floor tilted, and jake stumbled, grabbing at the wall for support.

“where the hell…?” his voice came out hoarse, and he swallowed painfully, his throat raw. the last thing he remembered was being at the docks, stumbling around like an idiot. and then… he closed his eyes, trying to recall. there had been a voice—a mocking, lilting voice. he’d seen a shadowed figure, someone who’d grabbed him…

his eyes flew open as realisation dawned.

“pirates,” he whispered, the word sending a chill down his spine.

he looked around frantically, trying to get his bearings. the room was small, the only furnishings a rickety wooden chair and a small table bolted to the floor. there were no decorations, no signs of luxury or comfort. this wasn’t some noble’s estate or a secluded inn—this was a ship. he was on a ship.

panic flared in his chest. he had to get out, had to—

the door creaked open, interrupting his frantic thoughts. jake whirled around, his heart pounding as a figure stepped into the room.

when jake laid his eyes on you, standing in the dimly lit cabin, he couldn't help but stare. despite the circumstances, there was an undeniable air of confidence and danger that drew him in, like a storm you couldn't look away from. your sharp eyes, steady and calculating, seemed to glimmer with mischief beneath the low light, framed by wild strands of hair that escaped the loose tie holding it back. the leather jacket you wore clung to your form, tough yet graceful, and with each step you took toward him, he felt a mixture of intimidation and awe. you were no princess from some royal court. you were real—strong, commanding, and utterly breathtaking in a way that made his heart race for reasons he couldn't quite name.

you leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, an amused smile playing on your lips. “good morning, your highness. sleep well?”

jake stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find words. it was you—the pirate from last night. the one who had taken him. the one responsible for this entire nightmare.

“wha—where am i?” he demanded, his voice shaky but edged with anger. “what the hell is going on?”

you raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by his confusion. “you’re on my ship, prince. welcome aboard.”

“your ship?” he took a step back, his eyes darting around as if expecting to find some hidden exit. “you—why did you—”

“kidnap you?” you supplied helpfully, your grin widening. “i thought that much was obvious.”

he glared at you, the fear and anger in his eyes warring for dominance. “you can’t do this. do you have any idea who i am?”

you chuckled softly. “of course i do. you’re prince jake, heir to the throne, soon-to-be husband to some poor girl you’ve never met. or were supposed to be, anyway.”

jake bristled at your words, the reminder of his unwanted engagement fueling his anger. “then you know my father will have your head for this. you’re making a huge mistake.”

you shrugged, clearly unconcerned. “maybe. but it’s a very profitable mistake. you see, your highness, you’re worth quite a lot of money. i’m sure your father will be more than happy to pay a hefty sum to get you back.”

jake’s jaw clenched. he could feel his heart racing, the situation spiralling further out of his control with every word you spoke. “you’re a fool if you think he’ll give in to your demands. he doesn’t negotiate with—”

“pirates?” you interrupted, your voice mocking. “no, i suppose he wouldn’t. but we’re not just any pirates, prince. we’re very persuasive.”

jake’s eyes narrowed. “what do you want?”

you tilted your head, considering him for a moment. then you pushed yourself off the doorframe, taking a few slow steps toward him. “like i said, a ransom. nothing too extravagant—just enough gold and jewels to make this little detour worth our while.”

he straightened, drawing himself up to his full height, his chin lifting defiantly. “and if i refuse?”

you laughed then, a light, almost playful sound that made his blood boil. “oh, your highness, you really don’t have much of a choice in the matter. we’re going to contact your father, and he’s going to pay us. if he doesn’t…” you shrugged again, the gesture casual, almost careless. “well, let’s just say there are plenty of other kingdoms that might be interested in buying a prince.”

jake’s blood ran cold at the implication. he had no doubt you were serious, the casualness of your threat only making it more chilling. he clenched his fists, feeling a surge of helpless rage. he hated this—hated feeling so powerless, so trapped.

“why me?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl. “why did you choose to kidnap me?”

you smirked, leaning back against the table, crossing your arms again. “why not? you were practically begging for it last night. drunk and stumbling around the docks, without a guard in sight. you made it too easy.”

jake glared at you, his face flushed with anger and shame. he had been stupid, reckless. he knew that. but to hear you say it, to see the amusement in your eyes—it made his humiliation burn even hotter.

“and besides,” you continued, your tone more thoughtful now. “there’s something… interesting about you, prince. most royal brats would be crying by now, begging for mercy or trying to bribe their way out of this. but you—” you looked him over, your gaze sharp and assessing. “you’ve got a bit of fight in you. i like that.”

he swallowed, his throat dry. “if you think i’m going to just sit here and let you ransom me off, you’re mistaken.”

“oh, i don’t expect you to sit quietly, jake,” you said, his name rolling off your tongue with a teasing lilt. “but you will stay here. and you will do exactly as i say. because if you don’t…” you leaned in close, your voice dropping to a whisper. “things could get very unpleasant for you.”

jake’s heart hammered in his chest, the threat hanging heavy in the air between you. but he refused to back down, refused to let you see just how scared he was. “you’re a coward,” he spat, his voice shaking with barely controlled rage. “hiding behind threats and chains.”

you straightened, your smile fading slightly, replaced by a cool, calculating look. “maybe. but i’m the coward who’s holding you prisoner, and you’re the one locked in this room. so who really has the power here, prince?”

jake didn’t have an answer to that, the reality of his situation crashing down around him. he was trapped, alone, at the mercy of a pirate who seemed to find his struggles more amusing than anything else.

you watched him for a moment longer, then turned, heading for the door. “i’d get comfortable if i were you. we’ll be sending your father a little message soon. until then, try not to get into too much trouble.”

with that, you slipped out of the room, the door closing behind you with a decisive click. jake was left standing there, his heart racing, his mind whirling with a thousand unanswered questions.

he took a deep breath, his eyes darting around the small, cramped space. there had to be a way out of this. he wasn’t going to let you—let anyone—control his fate. he was a prince, damn it. and he would find a way to take back control, no matter what it took.

jake spent the next few hours pacing the confines of his makeshift cell, frustration bubbling in his chest like a pot set to boil. every creak and sway of the ship was a reminder of where he was—trapped on a pirate vessel, of all places. he had never felt more out of his depth, more powerless, and it infuriated him.

the room was small and sparsely furnished, nothing like the opulence he was used to in the palace. he had grown up surrounded by luxury—plush carpets, gilded furniture, and servants who attended to his every whim. here, there was only the harsh creak of the wooden floorboards and the faint smell of saltwater seeping through the cracks in the planks. it was a stark, unpleasant contrast, and jake’s sense of indignation grew with every second.

he tugged at the bindings around his wrists for what felt like the hundredth time, hissing in irritation as the ropes bit into his skin. “unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with disdain. “kidnapped by a bunch of filthy pirates. my father will have their heads for this.”

his thoughts whirled, oscillating between anger and disbelief. did you really think you could get away with this? he was a prince—he wasn’t supposed to be treated like some common prisoner. yet, here he was, bound and helpless, his only company the relentless thrum of the ship’s hull cutting through the waves.

the door swung open suddenly, and you sauntered in, a smug grin on your face. “good to see you’re making yourself at home, prince.”

jake glared at you, his eyes blazing. “you think this is funny?”

you raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in your gaze. “i think it’s hilarious, actually. you should’ve seen yourself last night, stumbling around like a newborn foal. if it weren’t so pathetic, i might’ve felt sorry for you.”

jake bristled at your words. “my father will crush you for this,” he spat, his voice tinged with the haughty arrogance of a nobleman used to getting his way. “do you know what happens to people who cross the crown?”

you chuckled, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “i’ve got a pretty good idea, but thanks for the warning.” you glanced at the bindings around his wrists, then back at his face. “now, are you going to behave, or do i need to tie you up even tighter?”

he scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “you really think you can intimidate me with your crude threats? i’ve dealt with far scarier people than you.”

“oh, really?” you said, your voice dripping with mock interest. “and who might that be? your etiquette tutor?”

jake’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. “this isn’t a joke! i’m not some commoner you can push around. i have rights, and you—”

“—have no leverage here,” you finished, your voice firm and steady. you stepped closer, your gaze locking onto his. “you’re on my ship, prince. your rights are whatever i decide they are. and if you keep up this bratty behaviour, you’ll find out just how limited those rights can be.”

jake stared at you, his pulse pounding in his ears. he was used to people deferring to him, used to his word being law. this was… humiliating. he opened his mouth to retort, but the words stuck in his throat, his outrage tangling with something else—fear, maybe, or the uncomfortable realisation that, for now, you were right.

he turned away, biting down hard on his lower lip. “this is ridiculous,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

you watched him for a moment, your expression softening slightly. “you might as well get used to it, your highness,” you said, your tone less mocking, more pragmatic. “we’re going to be at sea for a while. unless you’d rather spend your days tied up in this cabin, i’d suggest you start cooperating.”

“cooperating?” he whipped around, his eyes flashing. “with you? never.”

you shrugged, seemingly unfazed by his defiance. “suit yourself. but just so you know, it’s not going to be as bad as you think. you might even enjoy it, if you’d pull that stick out of your royal ass.”

he made a noise of disbelief, shaking his head. “enjoy being a prisoner on a pirate ship? are you mad?”

“not mad, just realistic,” you replied, your smile returning. “you could sit here sulking, or you could make the best of it. who knows? maybe you’ll learn something.”

jake let out a sharp, humourless laugh. “learn something? from a bunch of lawless thugs?”

“you’d be surprised,” you said lightly. “you might find there’s more to life than being a spoiled prince.”

the words struck a nerve, and jake bristled, his shoulders tense. “you don’t know anything about me.”

“i know enough,” you said, your tone thoughtful now. “i know you’ve spent your whole life being told what to do, where to go, who to marry. must get tiring after a while, huh?”

jake’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. because you were right. the constant expectations, the endless duties—it was exhausting. but he’d never admit that to you.

you watched him, your gaze assessing, then straightened, pushing off the wall. “well, when you’re ready to stop being a brat and start acting like a human being, let me know. maybe we can talk like adults.”

he glared at you, his pride refusing to let him back down. “i don’t need your pity, pirate.”

“it’s not pity,” you said calmly. “it’s a chance. take it or leave it.”

with that, you turned and left the room, the door closing behind you with a soft thud. jake stood there, staring at the closed door, his mind racing.

he hated you. hated the way you talked to him, the way you looked at him, like he was some petulant child who didn’t know any better. but more than that, he hated the way your words made something inside him twist uncomfortably, the way they hit just a little too close to the truth.

because the truth was, he was tired. tired of being the perfect prince, the obedient son, the pawn in his father’s endless political games. and in a strange, twisted way, there was a part of him that almost—almost—wanted to see what you meant. to understand what life was like outside the confines of the palace walls.

but he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of knowing that.

not yet, anyway.

jake spent the next day doing his best to test your patience. he may have been stuck in this small, grimy room, but he wasn’t about to let you think he was going to cooperate. no, he was a prince, and he would find a way to make you regret kidnapping him.

the first signs of trouble came early. he knocked over the water pitcher, letting the liquid spill across the floor, then stood back, crossing his arms as if daring someone to come clean it up. a little while later, he took the plate of bread and fruit jungwon had brought him and tossed it out the small window, watching as it splashed into the sea below.

when you walked in, you found him lounging on the chair, arms behind his head, a smug smile on his face.

“comfortable, your highness?” you asked, your tone dry.

“quite,” jake replied, his smile widening. “just thought i’d redecorate. this place is rather… drab.”

you glanced at the puddle of water spreading across the floor, the broken plate shards glittering near the window, and shook your head. “right. very tasteful. i see why you were forced into diplomacy and not design.”

jake's expression hardened. “i was trying to make a point.”

“and what point is that?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe, amusement dancing in your eyes. “that you have the maturity of a toddler?”

before jake could respond, jungwon entered the room, a look of mild exasperation on his face. he glanced around, taking in the mess, then turned to you.

“captain, you need me to deal with this?” he asked, jerking his thumb toward jake. “or should we just toss him overboard and be done with it?”

jake’s eyes widened slightly at the suggestion, but he quickly schooled his expression back into one of defiance. “i’d like to see you try.”

jungwon smirked, folding his arms. “you wouldn’t last a minute, prince. trust me.”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “no one’s getting tossed overboard. but it seems our guest needs a lesson in respecting his hosts.”

jungwon raised an eyebrow. “you want me to teach him some manners?”

jake bristled. “i don’t need to be taught anything by you.”

“oh, this is going to be fun,” jungwon said, his grin widening. he stepped closer to jake, who leaned back slightly, clearly trying not to look intimidated.

“what are you going to do?” jake asked, his voice trying to sound brave but betraying a hint of nervousness.

jungwon looked at him thoughtfully. “well, i could make you swab the deck, or clean the bilge. but honestly, you look like you’ve never worked a day in your life. so maybe i’ll just take you to the galley and see if you can peel potatoes without whining.”

jake blinked, caught off guard. “peel potatoes?”

“yep.” jungwon clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “you’ll be the galley’s new assistant. keeps you busy and out of trouble.”

jake glanced at you, then back at jungwon. “you can’t be serious.”

“oh, i’m very serious,” jungwon said, his smile turning almost wicked. “we’ll see if you can hold a knife without crying about your precious hands getting dirty.”

jake opened his mouth to argue but seemed to think better of it. instead, he turned back to you, his expression defiant but wavering. “you’re really going to make me do this?”

you shrugged nonchalantly. “well, you did say you were bored. and i think it’s about time you earned your keep, don’t you?”

before jake could respond, jungwon grabbed his arm and started hauling him out of the cabin. “come on, your highness. let’s see what you’re made of.”

“hey—wait!” jake protested, stumbling slightly as jungwon pulled him along. “i’m not going to—”

“oh, but you are,” jungwon said cheerfully. “and if you’re lucky, i might even let you eat some of what you cook. assuming it’s not completely inedible.”

as the two of them disappeared down the corridor, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. jungwon was good at handling difficult captives, and jake was certainly proving to be a challenge.

the galley was a bustling, cramped space filled with the clatter of pots and the smell of cooking food. jake stood in the middle of it all, looking utterly out of place and thoroughly miserable.

“this is ridiculous,” he muttered as jungwon handed him a bucket of potatoes and a small, worn knife.

“maybe,” jungwon agreed, a teasing smile on his lips, “but it’s also your job now. so get peeling, prince.”

jake scowled, holding the knife awkwardly as he fumbled with the first potato. “i don’t know how to do this.”

jungwon rolled his eyes. “of course you don’t. here, let me show you.” he took the knife and a potato, demonstrating the quick, efficient motion of peeling it. “see? easy.”

jake watched, his pride clearly stinging, but he took the knife back and attempted to mimic jungwon’s actions. he managed to slice off a decent chunk of the potato along with the peel, grimacing as he looked at the uneven result.

jungwon snickered. “not bad for a first try. now you only have, oh, about a hundred more to go.”

jake glared at him. “i don’t see why i should be doing this. i’m not some servant.”

“no, you’re a captive,” jungwon reminded him, his tone light but firm. “and captives who don’t cause trouble get treated well. those who do…” he let the sentence hang, his grin turning sharp.

jake huffed but turned his attention back to the potato, muttering under his breath about the indignity of it all. jungwon watched him struggle for a moment, then, with a sigh, grabbed a knife and started peeling alongside him.

“just try to keep up,” jungwon teased, effortlessly skinning a potato in record time.

jake’s face burned with frustration, but he forced himself to focus, determined not to let the pirate best him. it was a small, ridiculous battle of wills, but for some reason, it mattered.

despite himself, jake found the rhythm of the work strangely calming. it was mindless, but in a way, it gave him something to focus on other than the fact that he was a prisoner on a pirate ship. and, to his annoyance, jungwon’s casual, bantering presence made it a little less unbearable.

by the time they finished, jake’s hands were cramping, and there was a pile of poorly peeled potatoes at his feet. he looked at them with a mix of pride and disgust.

“not bad,” jungwon said, his tone surprisingly genuine. “for a beginner.”

jake looked at him, surprised. “you’re not going to mock me?”

jungwon shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “i’ll save it for when you actually deserve it.”

jake snorted, shaking his head. “i still don’t see why i have to do this.”

“think of it as character building,” jungwon suggested with a grin. “besides, it’s better than sitting in that room, sulking.”

jake glanced at the pile of potatoes, then back at jungwon, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “i suppose there are worse things.”

“there definitely are,” jungwon said with a laugh. “now, let’s get these to the cook before he decides to use us for stew.”

as they headed toward the galley, jake couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie with the pirate beside him. it was confusing, unsettling even, but for the first time since he’d been taken, he didn’t feel quite so alone.

maybe, just maybe, he could survive this.

and, who knows? he might even learn a thing or two along the way.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the ship, the crew gathered on the main deck for dinner. the air was filled with the scent of grilled fish and freshly baked bread, the sound of laughter and conversation creating a lively atmosphere that was a stark contrast to the tension of earlier in the day.

jake, still somewhat dazed from his unexpected kitchen duties, found himself standing awkwardly on the edge of the group. he glanced around, taking in the relaxed, almost familial vibe of the crew as they ate and joked with each other. it was strange, seeing these hardened pirates—people he’d been raised to think of as ruthless and bloodthirsty—sharing food and stories like any other group of sailors.

he felt completely out of place.

“you gonna stand there all night, or are you actually going to eat something?” jungwon’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. the first mate appeared beside him, holding a plate piled high with food.

jake hesitated, glancing at the plate and then back at jungwon. “is this… for me?”

jungwon rolled his eyes. “no, it’s for the seagulls. yes, it’s for you. now, sit.”

jake took the plate gingerly, his stomach growling in response to the smell. he hadn’t realised how hungry he was until now. he followed jungwon to a spot near the railing, where they both sat down on the wooden deck.

the food was simple but delicious: grilled fish, a slice of bread, and a generous portion of roasted vegetables. jake ate slowly, savouring each bite, his earlier defiance momentarily forgotten in the face of genuine hunger.

“you know, i’m surprised you didn’t just throw this overboard too,” jungwon remarked, his tone teasing but not unkind.

jake shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “i might be a little spoiled, but i’m not stupid. i know when to appreciate a good meal.”

“glad to hear it,” jungwon said with a grin. “our cook might have thrown you overboard if you wasted his food.”

jake raised an eyebrow. “is that a joke?”

“maybe,” jungwon replied, winking. “but you don’t want to test him. trust me.”

despite himself, jake chuckled, shaking his head. “you’re all crazy.”

“welcome aboard, then,” jungwon quipped, earning another small laugh from jake. it was strange, this easy camaraderie they were developing, but in a way, it was a relief. better this than more conflict.

as they ate, the conversation flowed easily between them. jungwon told a few stories about the crew, pointing out various members and sharing their quirks and histories. he spoke of the time he’d joined the crew himself, how he’d been just a reckless kid looking for adventure, not unlike jake in some ways.

“and then there’s the captain,” jungwon said, his tone shifting to something more thoughtful. “she’s the reason most of us are here. tough as nails, but fair. she sees things in people, you know? things they don’t see in themselves.”

jake glanced over at you, where you were standing near the helm, talking quietly with another crew member. he thought about how you’d handled him earlier, firm but not cruel, refusing to rise to his provocations. there was something about you—something he couldn’t quite figure out, but it intrigued him.

“she certainly has a unique recruitment strategy,” he said dryly, taking another bite of fish.

jungwon snorted. “yeah, kidnapping royalty isn’t exactly standard procedure. but you’re a special case.”

jake frowned. “special how?”

“you really don’t know, do you?” jungwon asked, tilting his head. “i mean, i’m sure you’ve heard the rumours about your own kingdom. the unrest, the protests. people aren’t happy, and your father’s trying to patch things up with that marriage alliance. he’s desperate to secure his rule.”

jake’s expression tightened. he knew all of this, of course. it was why he’d been so frustrated, so angry. he didn’t want to be a pawn in his father’s political games, married off to some princess he didn’t even know just to keep the peace. but hearing it laid out like this, from a pirate of all people, made it feel more real, more urgent.

“and what does that have to do with me?” he asked, his voice tense.

jungwon shrugged. “it means you’re valuable. not just as a prince, but as a symbol. people see you as the future of the kingdom, for better or worse. and if you’re here, with us… well, it changes things.”

jake stared at him, his mind racing. he hadn’t thought about it like that. he’d been so focused on his own feelings, his own desires, that he hadn’t considered how his actions might affect others.

before he could respond, you approached, a wry smile on your lips. “are you boring him with pirate politics, jungwon?”

jungwon grinned up at you. “just making sure he knows what he’s gotten himself into.”

you looked down at jake, your gaze sharp but not unkind. “and do you?”

jake met your eyes, feeling a strange mix of emotions—defiance, curiosity, even a hint of respect. “i’m starting to.”

“good,” you said, nodding approvingly. “because you’re not going to get any special treatment here. if you want to survive, you’ll have to work like everyone else.”

jake bristled slightly, but there was no real anger in his voice as he replied, “i’m not afraid of hard work.”

“glad to hear it,” you said, your smile turning almost mischievous. “because tomorrow, you’re on cleaning duty. i expect the deck to be spotless.”

jake groaned, and jungwon burst out laughing. “welcome to pirate life, your highness.”

despite his grumbling, jake found himself smiling, a strange sense of relief washing over him. for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was in control of something, even if it was just his own response to this bizarre situation.

maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to make this work. and if he was going to be stuck here, he might as well make the most of it.

“fine,” he said, lifting his chin slightly. “but don’t think i’m doing it for free.”

you laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “oh? and what do you want in return, prince?”

jake thought for a moment, then smiled. “a chance to prove you wrong.”

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “about what?”

“that i can handle whatever you throw at me,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “i’m not just some spoiled royal. i can be more than that.”

you considered him for a moment, then nodded, a hint of respect in your gaze. “we’ll see. but i’ll hold you to that.”

as the crew continued to eat and talk around them, jake felt a strange sense of anticipation building inside him. maybe this was his chance to figure out who he really was, beyond the title and the expectations.

the following days saw jake throwing himself into work with a single-minded determination, his initial resistance shifting into a genuine desire to prove himself. the crew, initially sceptical, began to warm up to his efforts. they watched as he took on every menial task without complaint, his posture growing less rigid with each passing day, his movements becoming more confident.

and then there was you—always watching, always testing.

one afternoon, after an exhausting morning of scrubbing the deck and assisting the crew with their duties, jake approached jungwon, who was busy adjusting the sails.

“i want to learn,” jake said, his voice steady despite the sweat beading on his forehead.

jungwon glanced at him, a glimmer of surprise in his eyes. “learn what, your highness?”

“everything,” jake replied, determination evident in his tone. “navigation, sailing, sword fighting—whatever it takes.”

jungwon raised an eyebrow, then nodded slowly. “alright. but don’t expect us to go easy on you. if you want to learn, you’ll have to earn it.”

jake’s gaze shifted to you, where you stood near the helm, a confident presence that seemed to command the very winds. “i’m ready.”

jungwon smirked, but there was a hint of approval in his expression. “we’ll see.”

jake’s training began with the basics: tying knots, handling the rigging, learning the different parts of the ship. he was clumsy at first, his hands unused to the rough work, but he was quick to learn, his determination driving him forward. you watched from a distance, your eyes sharp, taking in every stumble, every success.

as the days passed, jake’s confidence grew. he started to understand the rhythms of the sea, the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the crew worked together like the well-oiled parts of a single, living entity. and he found himself drawn to you, despite his best efforts to keep his distance.

there was something about the way you moved, the way you spoke to the crew with a mix of authority and respect, that both fascinated and frustrated him. you were nothing like the people he’d known at court—no politeness masking cruelty, no false smiles. just raw, unflinching honesty.

one evening, after a long day of work, jake found you alone on the quarterdeck, studying a weathered map spread out on a small table. the sky was awash in shades of pink and gold, the sun sinking slowly into the horizon.

“captain,” he called out, his voice tentative.

you glanced up, your expression unreadable. “yes, prince?”

he hesitated, then gestured to the map. “i was hoping you could teach me navigation. i know the basics, but… i want to know more.”

you studied him for a long moment, your gaze searching his face as if weighing his sincerity. finally, you nodded. “show me what you know.”

he stepped forward, standing close enough to feel the warmth of your body, the subtle scent of salt and sea air that clung to your clothes. you handed him a sextant, and he took it, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest second—a touch so fleeting it could have been an accident, yet it sent a strange jolt through him.

“use this to measure the angle of the sun,” you instructed, your voice low and calm. “compare that to the time of day, and you can find our latitude.”

he did as you said, holding the instrument up and adjusting it carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. you watched him closely, stepping closer to adjust his grip. your fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary, the contact sending a shiver down his spine.

“like this,” you murmured, your breath warm against his cheek.

jake swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. he nodded, his voice coming out a little too rough. “got it.”

you stepped back, watching as he took the reading and compared it to the chart. when he got it right, he felt a surge of pride. he glanced at you, half-expecting to see you dismissive or indifferent, but there was a hint of a smile on your lips, a glint of approval in your eyes.

“not bad,” you said, nodding. “keep practising.”

“thanks,” he said, his voice softer now. he hesitated, then added, “i appreciate you giving me a chance.”

you shrugged, turning back to the map. “just don’t make me regret it.”

that night, he lay in his hammock, staring up at the ceiling of the small cabin. he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d looked at him, the way your touch had felt against his skin. it was maddening, this pull he felt toward you, this mix of admiration and frustration, desire and defiance.

the next day, jake’s restlessness found an outlet in a sparring session with the crew. he watched as you and jungwon faced off on the deck, your swords clashing in a blur of silver and steel. the crew gathered around, cheering and laughing, but all jake could focus on was you—the fierce, almost predatory grace of your movements, the way you seemed to anticipate jungwon’s every move.

in the end, you disarmed him easily, your blade pressing lightly against his chest.

“yield?” you asked, a playful glint in your eye.

jungwon grinned, stepping back with a mock bow. “yield, captain. for now.”

you lowered your sword, turning to jake. “what about you, prince? care to try your luck?”

jake felt his heart skip a beat. he’d been wanting this—craving a chance to prove himself, to push back against the tension simmering between you. he picked up a practice sword, testing its weight.

“i’m ready,” he said, meeting your gaze head-on.

the crew fell silent as you took your positions. you watched him, your expression unreadable, and then you moved. jake barely had time to react, his blade clashing against yours with a jarring force that sent vibrations up his arm.

“too slow,” you said, your voice almost a purr.

he gritted his teeth, pushing back. “i’m just getting started.”

you smiled—a real, genuine smile that was somehow more dangerous than any glare. you stepped back, feinting to the left before striking right. he blocked, his movements instinctive, adrenaline singing in his veins.

“good,” you murmured. “but not good enough.”

you moved like water, slipping past his defences, your blade coming to rest against his throat. he froze, his breath catching. you were so close now, your eyes locked on his, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you.

“yield?” you asked, your voice soft, almost teasing.

jake swallowed, his pulse pounding in his ears. he wanted to say something clever, something to break the tension, but his mouth felt dry. “never.”

you held his gaze for a long, intense moment, then lowered your sword, stepping back. “we’ll see.”

as the crew began to disperse, jake remained where he was, his heart still racing. he watched as you turned away, your expression unreadable, and felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

later, as the evening settled in and the crew gathered for dinner, jake found himself once again at the edge of the group. jungwon, catching sight of him, waved him over.

“hey, prince. you did good today,” he said, offering jake a plate of food.

jake took it, still slightly dazed. “thanks. i just—” he glanced over at you, where you were talking quietly with one of the crew. “i can’t figure her out.”

jungwon followed his gaze, then shrugged. “she’s the captain. she’s not supposed to be easy to figure out.”

jake frowned. “but there’s something else, isn’t there? it’s like… she’s testing me. but for what?”

jungwon chuckled. “maybe she’s trying to see if you’re worth all the trouble you’ve caused.”

jake considered that, then shook his head. “no, it’s more than that. i just… i want to prove myself.”

“to her?” jungwon asked, raising an eyebrow.

jake hesitated, then nodded slowly. “yeah. i guess i do.”

jungwon grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “good luck with that. she’s a tough one to impress.”

jake glanced over at you again, feeling that familiar pull, that mix of challenge and fascination. he didn’t know what he was trying to prove, or even why it mattered so much, but he knew one thing for certain:

he wasn’t going to give up.

the next day, jake found himself at the helm with you again, the map spread out between you. you were showing him how to chart a course, your voice calm and patient as you explained the intricacies of navigation.

he watched you, your profile sharp and focused, the way your fingers traced the lines on the map with practised ease. he wondered what it would be like to know you—not just as the captain, but as the person behind the title.

“do you ever get tired of it?” he asked suddenly, the question slipping out before he could stop himself.

you glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “tired of what?”

“this,” he gestured around, at the ship, the sea. “the constant moving, the danger. don’t you ever want something… more stable?”

your eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, he thought he’d overstepped. but then you shrugged, your gaze turning distant.

“stability’s a cage, prince. i’ve been there, and i’m not going back.”

jake felt a pang of something—sympathy, understanding. he nodded slowly. “yeah. i guess i know what you mean.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and for a heartbeat, he thought he saw something soften in your eyes. but it was gone in an instant, replaced by your usual guardedness.

“focus on the map, prince,” you said, your tone brisk. “you still have a lot to learn.”

jake smiled, despite himself. “yes, captain.”

and as the sun set on another day, he felt that spark of determination flare brighter. he would learn. he would prove himself. not just to you, but to himself.

because, whether he liked it or not, he was starting to realise that out here, on this ship, with you and this crew, he was beginning to feel something he’d never felt before.

he was beginning to feel like he belonged.

the days passed in a blur of new experiences and hard work. jake found himself adapting to life on your ship quicker than he’d expected. there was something strangely liberating about the simplicity of it—no formalities, no expectations to be anything other than himself. but he couldn’t deny that his eyes sought you out constantly, intrigued by the way you commanded respect and moved with an easy confidence that spoke of years at sea.

he’d thrown himself into learning as much as he could, from tying complicated knots to reading the winds and stars. jungwon, patient but merciless in his training, guided him through the intricacies of navigation and combat. the crew had begun to warm to him, and he even caught you watching him with something that looked almost like approval.

one evening, after a long day of training and chores, jake wandered onto the deck, his muscles aching but his mind clear. the sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the sea, and a peaceful silence had settled over the ship. most of the crew were below deck, resting or eating, leaving the upper deck quiet and empty.

he found you at the helm, hands resting lightly on the wheel as you guided the ship through the gentle evening breeze. you glanced over as he approached, a slight smile tugging at your lips.

“shouldn’t you be resting, prince? jungwon tells me he’s been working you pretty hard.”

jake shrugged, leaning against the railing beside you. “resting’s for people who know what they’re doing. i still have a lot to learn.”

you raised an eyebrow, your smile widening slightly. “i didn’t think you’d last this long.”

“neither did i,” he admitted, laughing softly. “but i’m starting to get the hang of it. you know, it’s not so different from court politics. a lot of manoeuvring, knowing who to trust and when to watch your back.”

you snorted, shaking your head. “except here, if you mess up, you end up overboard.”

he grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “sounds like dinner at the palace.”

you chuckled, the sound surprising him. it was rare to hear you laugh, and he found he liked it more than he expected. there was a softness to it that contrasted with your usual sharp edges, making him wonder what other sides of you lay hidden beneath your tough exterior.

“maybe you’re not so different from us after all,” you said, your tone thoughtful as you looked out at the horizon. “you’ve held your own better than i expected.”

jake’s smile faded slightly, a serious look crossing his face. “i want to be more than just a prince who got kidnapped. i want to prove that i can do this, that i belong here.”

you turned to look at him, something unreadable in your eyes. “why? you have a whole kingdom waiting for you. what’s the point of trying so hard to fit in here?”

he hesitated, then sighed, his gaze dropping to the deck. “because i don’t know if i belong there anymore. i spent my whole life being told what to do, what to be. i thought i knew what i wanted, but now… now i’m not so sure.”

you were silent for a long moment, watching him carefully. “this isn’t an easy life, jake. it’s not just about adventure and freedom. there’s danger, uncertainty. every day is a fight to survive.”

“i know,” he said quietly, meeting your gaze. “but at least here, i get to decide who i am. even if it’s hard.”

you studied him, your expression softening slightly. “and who do you want to be?”

he swallowed, his heart pounding. “i don’t know yet. but i think i want to find out.”

you nodded slowly, something like understanding flickering in your eyes. “well, as long as you’re on my ship, you’re one of us. and that means you pull your weight, no special treatment.”

he smiled, relief and gratitude flooding him. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

the two of you stood there for a while, the silence between you comfortable, almost companionable. the sea stretched out before you, dark and endless, the stars beginning to peek through the twilight sky. for the first time in a long while, jake felt a sense of peace, of purpose. he wasn’t sure where this journey would lead, but for now, he was content to take it one step at a time.

“hey, captain,” he said after a while, his voice soft. “thank you.”

you glanced at him, your expression guarded. “for what?”

“for giving me a chance,” he said simply.

you looked away, your fingers tightening slightly on the wheel. “just don’t make me regret it, prince.”

jake smiled, a small, genuine smile that made something inside you twist uncomfortably. “i’ll do my best.”

and for the first time, you found yourself hoping that he would.

after that conversation, jake threw himself even more fervently into life on the ship. he wasn’t just trying to prove himself to you anymore; he was trying to prove it to himself. he took on every challenge with a stubborn determination, even managing to outlast jungwon in a sword-fighting session one afternoon, much to the crew’s amusement.

the more he learned, the more he began to understand the unspoken bonds between the crew members, the camaraderie and trust that held them together even in the face of danger. he found himself laughing more, his shoulders relaxing, the constant tension that had defined his life at court slowly melting away.

one evening, as the crew gathered around for dinner, he found himself seated between you and jungwon, the three of you sharing a rare moment of peace. the crew’s laughter echoed around the deck as they traded stories and jests, the firelight casting warm, flickering shadows across their faces.

jake glanced at you, noting the way your shoulders had relaxed, your usual sharp gaze softened. he felt a strange, almost uncomfortable warmth in his chest at the sight of you like this, at ease and unguarded, if only for a moment.

“you know,” he said quietly, leaning closer so only you could hear, “i think i’m starting to get the hang of this whole pirate thing.”

you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing at your lips. “don’t get too cocky, prince. you’ve still got a long way to go.”

he laughed softly, the sound genuine. “i guess i just have a good teacher.”

your gaze flicked to his, and for a moment, something passed between you—an unspoken understanding, a connection that neither of you could quite put into words. it was there in the way your eyes held his, in the faint curve of your lips, in the way his heart seemed to skip a beat, his breath catching in his throat.

before he could say anything more, jungwon, who had been listening in with a grin, leaned over, nudging jake with his elbow.

“careful, prince,” he said with a wink. “the captain’s not someone you want to cross.”

jake grinned, feeling more at ease than he had in a long time. “oh, i think i’ve learned that lesson already.”

you rolled your eyes, but there was no real heat in it, your expression softening as you looked between them. “just don’t expect any special treatment. you’re still part of this crew, and that means pulling your weight.”

jake nodded, his smile fading into something more serious. “i will. i promise.”

and as the night wore on, the three of you talking and laughing beneath the stars, he realised that, for the first time, he wasn’t thinking about what he’d left behind or what waited for him back at the kingdom. for the first time, he was simply here, in this moment, and it was enough.

the night was calm, the ship gently rocking as it sailed through the endless stretch of sea. above, the sky was a canvas of shimmering stars, scattered like diamonds against the black expanse. you leaned against the railing of the ship, the cool breeze brushing against your skin, a welcome contrast to the warmth radiating from the day’s work. the crew had long settled down, their laughter and banter from earlier now replaced by the quiet hum of the ocean. it was peaceful—almost too peaceful for someone like you, used to the chaos and unpredictability of life at sea.

you glanced over your shoulder, seeing jake making his way toward you. he had fit in surprisingly well with the crew, his bratty resistance from the early days replaced by curiosity and, dare you admit it, excitement. his princely demeanour had given way to something more natural, more at ease, as he took to the tasks with a sense of wonder. there was a certain boyish charm in the way he admired everything around him, whether it was the workings of the ship or the loyalty of your crew. and yet, beneath that, something more dangerous was brewing—something between the two of you.

“couldn’t sleep?” you asked as he reached your side.

he shrugged, leaning against the railing next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “not with a view like this,” he said, his voice softer than usual as he gazed up at the stars. “i’ve never seen anything like it. the stars… they feel so close out here.”

you nodded, glancing up as well. “out here, you realise how small you are. it’s humbling.”

jake didn’t respond right away, and the comfortable silence between you stretched. you were both just standing there, side by side, watching the stars and listening to the waves. the night air was cool, and the proximity between you sent a spark through your skin. there had always been something electric about jake—something about the way he looked at you, with that mixture of defiance and admiration, that made you uneasy. and tonight, it felt stronger, like the space between you was filled with unspoken words and a tension you could no longer ignore.

finally, he spoke, his voice low and contemplative. “i don’t get it,” he began. “why… why choose this life? you could be anywhere, doing anything, and yet, you’re out here in the middle of nowhere, living on the edge. why?”

you let out a breath, your hand gripping the railing a little tighter. you’d always avoided these kinds of conversations, especially with people who didn’t understand the choices you’d made. but there was something about the way jake asked—like he wasn’t judging, just genuinely curious.

“i didn’t choose it,” you admitted quietly, your gaze fixed on the horizon. “not at first, anyway.”

jake turned to face you, waiting for you to continue.

“i grew up in a port town, one that was constantly ravaged by raids. pirates came, took what they wanted, and left nothing but ruin behind. my parents... they were honest traders, working to build something. but when the raids became too frequent, we lost everything. one day, they came back, and this time, they didn’t leave anyone alive.” you swallowed hard, forcing the lump in your throat down. “i survived. i hid while my world burned. after that, i realized that the only way to survive was to become stronger. to become one of them.”

jake’s expression softened, but he said nothing, letting you continue.

“i joined a crew, learned the ropes, and eventually made my own way. it wasn’t about money or fame—not at first. it was survival, pure and simple. but after a while, it became about more than that. it was about freedom. about having control over my own life.” you glanced at him, your voice wavering slightly. “out here, no one can tell me who to be. i make the rules.”

the silence that followed felt heavy, but not uncomfortable. jake absorbed your words, his eyes searching your face, as if seeing you in a different light. he opened his mouth to say something but then hesitated, his gaze dropping to the railing. when he finally spoke, his voice was laced with a vulnerability you hadn’t heard from him before.

“i never had that,” he said softly. “control, i mean. every part of my life was mapped out before i even had a chance to think for myself. it’s always been about duty. about what’s best for the kingdom.” he let out a short, humourless laugh. “and here i am, kidnapped by a pirate, and it’s the first time i’ve felt free.”

you turned to him, studying his face as he stared out at the sea. there was something raw in his words, something that resonated with you in a way you hadn’t expected. he wasn’t just the spoiled prince you’d thought he was. there was a depth to him, a quiet yearning that mirrored your own.

for a moment, you both stood in silence, the tension between you building with every passing second. the gentle sway of the ship seemed to bring you closer, and when jake finally turned to look at you, the intensity in his gaze made your heart race. his eyes locked onto yours, and you felt something shift—a magnetic pull drawing you closer, making it hard to breathe.

“y/n,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the proximity of his body sending a shiver down your spine. his gaze flickered to your lips, and before you could stop yourself, you stepped closer, your body betraying the caution that usually ruled you.

he reached out, hesitating for a moment before his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. the touch was light, almost hesitant, but it set every nerve in your body alight. you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you felt the space between you evaporate.

“jake…” you whispered, unsure of what you were about to say, but it didn’t matter. he was already closing the distance, his lips hovering inches from yours. and then, in one slow, inevitable moment, he kissed you.

it was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters, but then it deepened, the intensity of everything you’d both been holding back pouring into the kiss. his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

when you finally pulled back, breathless and dazed, you stared at each other, the weight of what had just happened hanging between you.

“jake… i-”

“shh,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “we don’t have to say anything. not right now.”

for the first time in a long time, you felt exposed—your walls crumbling in front of him. and yet, instead of fear, all you felt was relief. maybe, just maybe, there was room for something more in this chaotic, dangerous life. something real.

as the night stretched on and the stars twinkled above, you knew that whatever happened next, this moment had changed everything.

the days following that night under the stars felt different—charged with an energy neither of you could ignore. it wasn’t just the kiss, though that memory lingered like a spark waiting to ignite at the slightest touch. it was the way jake looked at you now, with a quiet intensity, a hunger in his eyes that made your heart race every time you caught him staring. and it was the way you felt drawn to him, despite the walls you’d built so carefully over the years.

every interaction felt loaded, every conversation laced with a tension that simmered just beneath the surface. yet neither of you spoke about it—not directly. instead, you let your actions speak for you. jake began spending more time by your side, asking questions about the ship, the crew, the sea. his bratty demeanour had all but vanished, replaced by a genuine curiosity, an eagerness to learn.

one afternoon, as you worked side by side on the deck, showing him how to properly tie a sailor’s knot, you felt his eyes on you again. the sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow across the ship, but it was the heat of jake’s gaze that made your skin tingle. he was close—closer than he needed to be—his arm brushing yours as he tried to mimic the knot you’d just demonstrated.

“you’re not paying attention,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips.

jake blinked, startled, his focus snapping back to the task at hand. “i am! just… distracted.”

“by what?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

jake gave you a sidelong glance, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “you.”

the simplicity of his answer caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. instead, you dropped your gaze back to the knot in your hands, suddenly aware of how close he was, of the warmth radiating from his body. you could feel your heart beating faster, the tension between you thick enough to cut.

“you’ll never get this right if you don’t focus,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though it betrayed you with a slight tremor.

he grinned, leaning in just a little closer. “maybe i like the distraction.”

you shot him a look, a warning in your eyes, but there was no denying the thrill that shot through you at his words. you couldn’t afford to let this get out of hand, not when your life was already so unpredictable, so full of danger. but with every passing day, it was getting harder to resist him.

later that evening, you found yourself on the ship’s bow, staring out at the horizon as the sun dipped below the water, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. it was a rare moment of peace, and you savoured it, breathing in the salty air, your mind wandering back to jake. you couldn’t help but think about how he’d changed, how he’d adapted to life at sea, how he no longer seemed like the pampered prince who’d stumbled onto your ship. he was different now—stronger, more capable. and more dangerous to your heart.

“can i join you?”

his voice broke through your thoughts, and you glanced over to see jake standing there, his eyes soft but serious.

you gave a small nod, and he came to stand beside you, his shoulder brushing yours in that familiar way that made your pulse quicken. for a few moments, neither of you spoke, the quiet between you comfortable, yet charged with the unspoken feelings that lingered just beneath the surface.

“i’ve been thinking about what you said,” jake began, his voice low. “about why you chose this life.”

you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“i get it now,” he said, his gaze focused on the horizon. “why you need to be in control. why freedom means so much to you. i never understood it before, but now… after being here, after seeing what it’s like to live by your own rules, i do.”

you felt a flicker of something inside you—pride, maybe. or was it something more?

“i thought i had it all figured out,” he admitted, turning to look at you. “the throne, the kingdom, duty… it all seemed so clear. but being here with you, seeing this world, i don’t know if i can go back to that. not anymore.”

his words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. you met his gaze, searching his eyes for the truth. there was something raw there, something vulnerable that made your heart ache.

“jake…” you began, unsure of what to say, but he shook his head.

“you don’t have to say anything,” he said softly. “i just… i wanted you to know.”

for a moment, you let the silence wash over you, the sound of the waves filling the space between your words. you’d been so careful with him, so wary of letting your guard down, but every day, jake was breaking through the walls you’d built, piece by piece. and now, standing here with him under the setting sun, you weren’t sure you could hold those walls up any longer.

without thinking, you reached out, your hand brushing against his. it was a small gesture, but it felt monumental, like the beginning of something you couldn’t take back. he turned his hand over, his fingers lacing with yours, and the simple act made your chest tighten.

“i’ve never felt like this before,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “not with anyone.”

your heart skipped a beat, and before you could stop yourself, you looked up at him, the weight of his words sinking in. the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable, and for the first time, you let yourself acknowledge what had been growing between you all along.

“i don’t know where this is going,” you admitted, your voice quiet but steady. “but… i don’t want to lose it.”

he smiled then, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart ache. “neither do i.”

the moment stretched between you, fragile but full of promise, and as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, you felt something shift. this wasn’t just an adventure anymore. this was something real, something that neither of you could walk away from easily.

the days that followed were filled with a growing sense of companionship—a rhythm that had started to form between you and jake. he worked alongside you, learning the ways of the ship with more ease than you’d ever expected. he was no longer the prince you’d kidnapped for ransom; he was becoming something more, something you couldn’t quite define.

and in the quiet moments, when it was just the two of you—whether it was a shared glance across the deck, a fleeting touch as you passed each other, or the way he’d sit beside you in the evening to watch the stars—you could feel the bond between you deepening, becoming something you couldn’t deny.

but with that closeness came a growing fear. you knew what you were, what your life entailed. could someone like jake truly leave behind everything he’d ever known? could you let him?

those questions weighed heavy on your mind, but for now, you pushed them aside. because in these moments, with jake by your side, nothing else seemed to matter.

the early morning sun was barely cresting over the horizon when you called the crew to attention. the crisp sea breeze was laced with anticipation, the crew bustling with a mix of eagerness and nerves. you’d spotted a merchant vessel the day before—heavily laden, from the look of it, and poorly defended. an easy mark.

jake stood on the periphery, watching with a furrowed brow as you barked out orders, your voice carrying over the creak of the ship’s rigging.

“jungwon, take the helm. we’ll come up on their starboard side, quick and clean. no unnecessary risks.”

“aye, captain,” jungwon replied, his usual easygoing demeanour sharpened with focus. he threw a quick, reassuring grin at jake as he moved to his post. “don’t worry, pretty boy. we’ll be in and out before you know it.”

jake forced a smile, but his unease was palpable. he hadn’t quite reconciled the thrill of adventure with the reality of what you did to survive. watching you prepare for an attack, your face set in a mask of steely determination, twisted something in his chest.

the attack was swift and efficient. your crew moved like a pack of wolves, swarming the merchant vessel with practised ease. jake watched from the deck, his heart pounding in his chest as he took in the scene before him.

you were at the forefront, your sword gleaming as you faced down the terrified sailors. “surrender, and no harm will come to you!” you shouted, your voice carrying over the chaos. the merchant crew hesitated, their eyes darting between you and your men, before they dropped their weapons, their faces pale with fear.

jake’s stomach twisted as he watched the exchange. this wasn’t some grand adventure. this was real, and it was brutal. his hands gripped the railing, his knuckles white. he’d never seen you like this—so fierce, so commanding. and it scared him.

your crew moved quickly, securing the cargo and transferring the goods back to your ship. jake felt sick as he watched, a deep, uncomfortable knot forming in his gut. these weren’t just nameless strangers; they were people whose lives you were upending, and you did it with the kind of ruthless efficiency that made his blood run cold.

when the last crate was loaded, you ordered your crew back to the ship, your eyes scanning the merchant sailors one last time. you caught sight of jake watching you, his face a mask of barely concealed horror. you felt a pang of something you couldn’t quite name—regret, maybe? but you pushed it aside, reminding yourself that this was the life you’d chosen. the life you’d built.

back on your ship, the crew erupted into cheers as they inventoried the haul. gold, spices, fine fabrics—it was a good day’s work. but jake was silent, standing apart from the celebration, his expression closed off.

you approached him, a hint of unease curling in your stomach. “what’s wrong? i thought you’d be happy. we didn’t even have to draw blood.”

he looked at you, disbelief etched across his features. “happy? you think i’d be happy about this?”

your brows furrowed. “we got what we needed without anyone getting hurt. that’s a win in my book.”

jake let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “a win? you call this a win?” he gestured towards the merchant ship, now a shrinking speck on the horizon. “you just robbed them off everything. and you’re acting like it’s just another day.”

“it is just another day,” you shot back, irritation flaring. “this is what we do. this is how we survive.”

“survive?” his voice rose, drawing the attention of the nearby crew. “you’re a pirate, not some misunderstood hero! you kidnap people, you steal, and you’re telling me this is survival?”

your temper flared at the accusation in his tone. “what did you think this was, jake? a fairytale? you’re the one who got himself into this mess, stumbling around drunk at the port. did you think pirates were just misunderstood adventurers?”

he glared at you, his hands shaking with barely contained anger. “i didn’t have a choice! you kidnapped me, remember? i didn’t ask for any of this.”

you scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. “you didn’t seem to mind when you were running around the ship, trying to fit in. what, did you think this was some grand adventure for you to play at being someone else? wake up, jake. this is real. this is my life.”

his eyes flashed with something like betrayal. “i thought… i thought you were different. i thought there was more to you than this.”

you felt a sharp pang at his words, but you pushed it down, your expression hardening. “this is all there is. i’m a pirate. this is what i do. what did you expect?”

“i don’t know!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “i just… seeing you like that, taking everything from those people, it’s not what i thought you were.”

you took a step closer, your voice low and tense. “and what did you think i was, jake? some poor soul forced into this life against my will? i chose this. every bit of it. i’m not some damsel in distress waiting to be saved. i’m the captain of this ship, and i do what i have to do to keep us alive.”

he looked at you, his eyes searching your face as if trying to find something he’d lost. “i don’t know. i just… i thought there was something good here. something more.”

your heart ached at the raw honesty in his voice, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “maybe there is, but it’s buried under a lot of bad. and if you can’t accept that, then maybe you don’t belong here.”

his face went pale, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t find the words. finally, he turned on his heel and walked away, his shoulders stiff with barely suppressed anger.

you watched him go, the ache in your chest growing with every step he took. you’d known this moment would come eventually—that he’d see the darker side of your world and struggle to accept it. but seeing the disappointment in his eyes, the way he looked at you as if you were a stranger, was more painful than you’d expected.

the days that followed the raid were tense, the air thick with unresolved tension. jake remained distant, his demeanour cold and closed off. he threw himself into the work, no longer seeking out your guidance or approval. it was as if he’d built a wall around himself, one that you weren’t sure how to break down.

you found yourself watching him more often than you cared to admit, hoping that somehow, some way, you could find your way back to each other. your heart ached with the weight of everything left unsaid. he was different now—his boyish enthusiasm had been replaced with a grim determination that made your chest tighten. he still did his part, working alongside the crew, but there was no spark in his eyes, no hint of the person who’d once looked at the world with such wonder.

jungwon, ever perceptive, noticed the shift as well. he caught your eye one evening as you stood at the helm, the setting sun casting a golden glow over the deck.

“he’s still not talking to you?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

you shook your head, your gaze fixed on jake’s distant figure. “no. he barely even looks at me.”

jungwon frowned, glancing over at the prince, who was helping tie down some loose ropes with a mechanical precision. “he’s hurt. you can see it in the way he carries himself. he’s not used to this life, and he’s struggling to find his place.”

you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “i know. i just… i don’t know what to say to him. i tried explaining, but it just made things worse.”

jungwon’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his voice gentle. “he’s not just angry about the raid. he’s angry because he feels like he doesn’t belong. and maybe… maybe he’s starting to realise that this life isn’t what he thought it would be.”

“or maybe he’s starting to realise that he doesn’t want to be here at all,” you murmured, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

jungwon reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your arm in a gesture of comfort. “give him time. he’ll come around. he cares about you more than you think.”

you managed a small smile, grateful for his support. “thanks, jungwon.”

unbeknownst to you, jake had been watching from the shadows, his jaw clenched as he took in the easy rapport between you and jungwon. he couldn’t hear your words, but he saw the way jungwon’s hand lingered on your arm, the way your expression softened when you spoke to him.

something ugly twisted in jake’s chest, a hot, burning sensation that he couldn’t quite name. it wasn’t just anger or hurt—it was jealousy, raw and unfiltered. he hated the way jungwon looked at you, the way he seemed to understand you in a way that jake couldn’t.

jake tore his gaze away, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the image of you and jungwon, couldn’t rid himself of the gnawing sense of inadequacy that clawed at his insides.

later that evening, as the crew gathered for dinner on the deck, jake sat apart from the others, his shoulders hunched and his eyes downcast. you glanced over at him, your heart aching at the sight of his isolation, but you didn’t know how to bridge the gap that had grown between you.

instead, you turned your attention to jungwon, who was recounting a particularly wild story from your early days on the ship. he had the crew laughing, their voices mingling with the sound of the waves, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to forget about the tension that lingered between you and jake.

jake, however, couldn’t take his eyes off you. the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at jungwon—it was all too much. he felt like an outsider, like he didn’t belong here, and the realisation hurt more than he’d expected.

he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the deck. the sudden movement drew everyone’s attention, and the laughter died away as the crew turned to look at him.

“i’m going to get some air,” jake muttered, his voice tight.

he didn’t wait for a response, pushing past the crew and heading towards the bow of the ship. you watched him go, your heart sinking. you wanted to follow, to talk to him, but something held you back.

“go after him,” jungwon said quietly, his eyes understanding.

you hesitated, your gaze flicking between jungwon and jake’s retreating figure. “he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

jungwon shook his head. “he’s hurting, captain. he needs to hear it from you.”

with a deep breath, you nodded, standing up and making your way across the deck. jake was leaning against the railing, his back to you, his shoulders tense.

“jake,” you called softly, your voice almost lost in the sound of the waves.

he didn’t turn around. “what do you want?”

you winced at the coldness in his tone, but you pressed on. “i just… i wanted to check on you. you’ve been distant.”

he let out a bitter laugh, finally turning to face you. “distant? what did you expect, captain? you kidnap me, drag me onto this ship, and now you’re surprised that i don’t want to be here?”

your heart sank at the pain in his voice. “i know you didn’t ask for this. but i’m trying to—”

“to what?” he interrupted, his eyes flashing with anger. “to make me feel better about being a prisoner on your ship? to make me forget that you’re a pirate who steals and kills for a living?”

you flinched, the words hitting harder than you’d expected. “i never said i was perfect, jake. i told you from the beginning what this life was.”

“and i was stupid enough to believe that there was something more!” he shouted, his voice raw. “i thought i could be a part of this. i thought maybe, just maybe, i could find a place here. but all i’ve done is fool myself.”

you took a step closer, your voice trembling. “jake, please—”

he held up a hand, cutting you off. “don’t. just… don’t. i can’t keep doing this, pretending that i’m okay with everything. i’m not like you, and i never will be.”

the truth of his words stung, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice. when you finally spoke, it was barely more than a whisper. “i know. and i’m sorry.”

he looked at you, his eyes filled with a pain so deep it made your chest ache. “why, then? why did you take me?”

you hesitated, the truth hovering on the tip of your tongue. because i needed the ransom. because i thought i could use you.

because i didn’t know i’d fall for you.

but you couldn’t say any of that, not now. not when the wounds were still so fresh.

instead, you looked away, your voice hollow. “i don’t know.”

jake shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “of course you don’t.”

he turned away, leaving you standing alone, your heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

for the rest of the evening, jake kept his distance, his eyes avoiding yours. and every time he saw you with jungwon, his jealousy flared anew, the bitterness and hurt twisting inside him until he didn’t know how to feel anything else.

he hated that he cared so much, hated that he couldn’t just turn off his feelings and move on. but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop wanting to be the one who made you smile like that.

and that, more than anything, was what hurt the most.

by the time the storm hit, the ship was already teetering on the edge of chaos. the sky had darkened to an unnatural shade of black, casting an eerie glow over the sea. you could feel the tension in the air, thick with the scent of saltwater and the low rumble of thunder in the distance. the crew moved with swift precision, tightening ropes, pulling down sails, and preparing for the onslaught.

“captain!” jungwon shouted from the helm, barely audible over the howling wind. “it’s coming in fast!”

“i see it,” you yelled back, your grip on the wheel tightening. the waves were already towering above the ship, slamming into the hull with relentless fury. the sea had turned into a churning monster, eager to consume you all.

you barked out orders, your voice cutting through the wind. “secure the cargo! bring down the main sail! everyone, brace yourselves!”

the crew scrambled to follow your commands, each member pushing their physical limits to keep the ship afloat. jake, amidst the chaos, worked alongside them, gripping onto ropes and securing what he could, his body soaked from the torrential downpour. every crack of thunder seemed to echo in his head, louder than the storm itself. but it wasn’t the storm he feared most—it was the words he'd spat out at you the day before.

he hadn’t meant to be cruel. but he was frustrated, confused, and angry at the life he’d been dragged into—kidnapped, held for ransom, now caught in a dangerous storm that could end his life. jake’s privilege had always shielded him from real danger, but now it was all crashing down.

and yet, as the storm raged around him, none of that mattered. all he could think about was the last thing he’d said to you. he had lashed out, criticising your life, your choices, the very thing you were good at. he’d pushed you away when all you had done was show him the kind of freedom he’d never known.

lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the deck in a blinding flash, and for a moment, jake lost his grip. he stumbled, caught by jungwon before a wave could sweep him away.

“focus!” jungwon snapped, his voice firm, though concern flickered in his eyes. “we need everyone working together if we’re going to survive this!”

jake nodded, shaking off the dizziness as he grabbed hold of the rigging once more. the storm was relentless, tossing the ship like a toy. but even as he fought through the wind and rain, all he could think about was you—where were you? were you safe? had you forgiven him for what he said?

the minutes dragged into hours, the storm refusing to relent. the crew battled through every wave, every gust of wind, holding the ship together by sheer force of will. you stood at the helm, drenched to the bone but unyielding. you steered the ship with a deft hand, navigating through the chaos like you had done so many times before. but even in the middle of the storm, your thoughts flickered back to jake. his words still lingered, stinging more than you cared to admit. you had grown used to resistance, to judgement, but hearing it from him—it had hit differently.

just as you thought the storm might break you, the winds began to ease. the rain slowed to a steady drizzle, and the waves, while still rough, were no longer threatening to capsize the ship. you gave a sigh of relief, wiping the water from your face, and began issuing new orders to your crew. “jungwon, check the sails. everyone else, assess the damage!”

but jake had only one thing on his mind. as the crew scattered to settle the ship, his eyes darted around the deck, looking for you. his heart pounded in his chest, panic rising when he couldn’t immediately spot you.

“where’s the captain?” he demanded, his voice frantic as he grabbed the nearest crew member by the arm. “where is she?”

“i saw her near the helm last,” the man replied, but that didn’t quell jake’s fear. he pushed past the others, slipping on the slick deck, his stomach churning not from the storm but from the thought of losing you without making things right.

“captain!” he called, voice hoarse. “captain!”

the ship creaked and groaned underfoot as jake searched every corner, every shadowed space, his heart sinking deeper with each second that passed. he cursed himself—why had he let his pride get in the way? he was stupid, reckless, and now he feared he might never get the chance to apologise.

finally, as he rounded the corner near the aft deck, he saw you. you were there with jungwon, overseeing the crew as they worked to fix the sails, your face set with focus, exhaustion evident in the lines around your eyes. relief flooded through him, but it was quickly overshadowed by concern as he noticed the strain in your posture.

without thinking, jake rushed toward you. his presence startled you, and you turned quickly, eyes widening at the sight of him approaching you with such urgency.

“jake?” you asked, surprised. “are you alright?”

he didn’t answer right away, his eyes trailing over your figure as if making sure you were unharmed. then you noticed the gash on his forearm, blood trickling down his skin.

“god, what happened?” you immediately stepped closer, grabbing his arm to examine the wound. “you’re hurt.”

“it’s nothing,” jake muttered, brushing it off. but he couldn’t hide the way his voice cracked, the emotion catching in his throat. “i… i was so scared i’d lost you.”

your hands paused, and you looked up at him, taken aback by the raw vulnerability in his voice. “i’m fine,” you reassured him, though your heart hammered in your chest. “i can take care of myself, jake.”

“i know,” he breathed, his voice thick with regret. “but i’ve been an idiot. i said things i didn’t mean. i didn’t realise how much i need you… until i thought i might never see you again.”

before you could respond, jake stepped closer, his hand slipping behind your neck, pulling you toward him. the tension between you snapped, and without warning, he crushed his lips against yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. the world around you seemed to still, the aftermath of the storm disappearing as your body pressed into his. his kiss was filled with all the words he hadn’t said, all the regret and longing, and you found yourself kissing him back with equal fervour.

when he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours. “i’m sorry,” he whispered. “for everything.”

you stared up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure how to respond. but one thing was clear—despite everything, the bond between you was unbreakable.

with the storm finally behind you and the ship no longer being tossed like a toy in the waves, you took a deep breath. jake was still standing beside you, a stubborn presence even as you directed the crew to restore order. his earlier kiss lingered in your mind, a distraction that you couldn’t afford to indulge in just yet.

“jungwon, see to the crew. make sure the rigging is secure and check the hold for any water,” you instructed, your voice carrying across the deck.

jungwon gave you a nod, casting a brief, assessing glance at jake before turning away to rally the crew. you turned back to the prince, his forearm still marked by the cut from earlier, a thin line of blood staining the makeshift bandage.

“you’re hurt,” you stated, gesturing to his arm. he glanced down at it as if only just remembering.

“it’s nothing,” he dismissed, though his voice was softer now, lacking the earlier bravado.

“come on,” you said, leading him below deck. he followed without argument, and you found yourself acutely aware of his presence behind you, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering tension.

once inside your small cabin, you gestured for him to sit. the room was dimly lit, the single lantern casting long shadows on the wooden walls. you rummaged through a chest, pulling out a clean cloth and a small flask of rum. “this is going to sting a bit,” you warned.

“i’ve had worse,” he muttered, but his eyes never left you as you approached. you wet the cloth and began to clean the wound, your fingers brushing his skin lightly. despite his attempt at indifference, you saw the way his jaw tightened, his breath hitching slightly as you worked.

you tried to focus on the task at hand, but it was impossible to ignore the heat radiating from his body, the way his gaze seemed to burn into you. his closeness was overwhelming, and you found your hands trembling slightly as you wrapped a bandage around his arm.

“there,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you tied off the bandage. you looked up, meaning to step back, but he caught your wrist, his touch gentle but insistent.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice low. his eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

you nodded, trying to pull away, but he didn’t let go. “it’s just a bandage, jake.”

“it’s more than that,” he insisted, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. “after everything i said… you didn’t have to help me.”

you shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “you’re part of my crew now. it’s my job to keep you safe.”

his lips quirked up in a small, almost sad smile. “am i really just another crew member to you?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. the truth was, you didn’t know what he was to you anymore. he was supposed to be a means to an end—a captive, a ransom. but somewhere along the line, things had shifted, and now you were standing here, your heart hammering in your chest as he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“jake…” you started, but his name died on your lips as he pulled you closer. your knees bumped against his, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders instinctively. his grip on your wrist loosened, his hand sliding up to your waist, pulling you between his legs. you could feel the heat of his body, the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

“i’ve been an ass,” he admitted, his voice raw, filled with regret. “i didn’t mean what i said before.”

you swallowed hard, your gaze dropping to his lips, so close, so tempting. “you were right, though. i am a pirate, jake. this is what i do. i don’t… i don’t know how to be anything else.”

he shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “you’re more than that. you’re… incredible.”

your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. you opened your mouth to say something, but then his hand was cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips in a feather-light caress.

“i’ve been thinking about you,” he confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “about this… since the first night.”

you couldn’t find the words to respond, your heart pounding in your ears. the air between you felt electric, every nerve in your body screaming for you to close the distance, to give in to the desire that had been simmering between you for weeks.

“jake, we shouldn’t—” but your protest was cut off as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative, almost hesitant kiss. it was so different from the heat and passion of before, soft and searching, as if he were giving you a chance to pull away.

but you didn’t want to pull away. you kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, your body aching for more. his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you into his lap, and you went willingly, your legs straddling his as his mouth moved against yours with growing urgency.

the kiss deepened, his tongue teasing against yours as his hands roamed over your back, your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. you gasped into his mouth as he pulled you tighter against him, your bodies fitting together perfectly. the cabin seemed to shrink around you, the world narrowing to the feel of his hands, his mouth, the way he held you like he never wanted to let go.

when you finally broke apart, both of you breathing hard, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your face. “tell me you want this,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “tell me i’m not the only one.”

you could barely catch your breath, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “i… i don’t know what this is, jake. but i want it. i want you.”

his smile was pure relief, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed you again, slower this time, savouring the moment. and as you melted against him, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, his neck, you knew that whatever came next, you were in this together.

the ship rocked gently beneath you, the storm outside a distant memory as you lost yourself in him, in the taste of his lips, the feel of his hands. and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you deserved this—deserved him.

when you both finally stilled, breathless and spent, the world slowly came back into focus. you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the cabin filled with the soft sounds of your breathing. for a long moment, neither of you spoke, the aftermath of what had just happened settling over you like a warm blanket.

jake’s hands traced lazy patterns on your back, his forehead resting against yours. “i didn’t plan on this,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.

you laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “neither did i.”

he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “but i’m glad it happened.”

your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. you nodded, your hand cupping his cheek. “me too.”

the storm outside had passed, but you knew this was just the beginning of another, one that was brewing between the two of you—a storm you were more than willing to weather.

the first light of dawn filtered through the small cabin window, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. you stirred, the warmth beside you a comforting reminder of the night before. slowly, you opened your eyes, turning your head to find jake still asleep beside you.

his hair was tousled, a few strands falling over his closed eyes, and his lips were slightly parted, a peaceful expression softening his features. in the quiet stillness of the morning, he looked almost boyish, a stark contrast to the fierce, determined prince you’d come to know. you couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling with a mixture of affection and something deeper, something that scared you more than you cared to admit.

you took a moment to drink him in, tracing the lines of his face with your eyes—the strong jaw, the curve of his mouth, the way his lashes fanned out against his cheeks. it was a rare thing to see him like this, so unguarded, so vulnerable. he’d given himself to you completely last night, in a way that went beyond just physical closeness. he’d trusted you, opened himself up in a way that left you feeling raw and exposed.

but as you watched him, the warmth in your chest began to cool, replaced by a creeping sense of dread. what were you doing? what had you done?

jake was a prince, destined for a life of duty and luxury, a world so far removed from the rough, uncertain life you led. he had responsibilities, people who depended on him. and you… you were a pirate, an outlaw with blood on your hands and a past you could never escape. what kind of future could you offer him? a life on the run, hiding from the law, facing danger at every turn?

you bit your lip, a knot forming in your stomach. no matter how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to keep him close, you couldn’t ignore the truth. jake deserved better than this. better than you. he deserved a life where he didn’t have to look over his shoulder, where he could live freely, surrounded by those who loved and respected him.

a pang of guilt shot through you as you remembered the way he’d looked at you last night, his eyes filled with something you were afraid to name. you’d seen that look before, on the faces of those who’d dared to care for you, to get too close. and every time, without fail, you’d ended up hurting them, pushing them away for their own good.

you couldn’t do that to jake. he’d already given up so much, already risked so much. he needed to go back, to the castle, to his people. even if he didn’t want to, even if it meant breaking your own heart in the process, you had to let him go.

a soft sigh drew your attention back to him as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open. for a moment, he seemed disoriented, his gaze unfocused as he took in his surroundings. then his eyes found yours, and a slow, sleepy smile spread across his face.

“morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. he reached out, his fingers brushing over your cheek, and you felt your resolve waver. “didn’t think i’d ever wake up to see you looking at me like this.”

you forced a smile, your heart aching as you leaned into his touch. “you make it sound like i’m some heartless pirate.”

he chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “well, you do have a reputation to uphold.”

“don’t remind me,” you muttered, trying to keep your tone light even as the weight of your decision pressed down on you. you couldn’t let him see how much this was tearing you apart. if he knew, he’d never leave, never let you push him away. and that would be the worst thing you could do—to both of you.

he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow, his gaze never leaving your face. “you’re quiet this morning. something on your mind?”

you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “just… thinking about everything that’s happened. the storm, the crew… us.”

a flicker of concern crossed his face, but he quickly masked it, his hand moving to rest on your waist. “are you having second thoughts?”

“no, i—” you broke off, struggling to find the right words. how could you explain what you were feeling without giving too much away? “i just… i don’t want you to regret this. any of this.”

he frowned, his brow furrowing as he studied you. “why would i regret it?”

“because you’re not supposed to be here, jake,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “you’re a prince. you have a duty, a life back at the castle. this—us—it’s not… it’s not real.”

his grip on you tightened, his eyes darkening. “not real? after everything we’ve been through, everything i’ve felt—” he shook his head, his voice rising with frustration. “how can you say that?”

“because it’s the truth,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “you’re only here because i took you. you’re supposed to be at the castle, marrying some princess, doing what’s best for your kingdom.”

“is that what you think?” his voice was low, dangerous, the intensity in his gaze almost too much to bear. “that i’d rather be locked away in some castle, living a life that’s been decided for me?”

“it’s where you belong,” you insisted, hating the way your voice wavered, betraying the turmoil inside you. “you deserve a life of dignity, of safety. not this—”

“i don’t care about that!” he burst out, his frustration giving way to desperation. “don’t you get it? i don’t want that life. i want to be here, with you. i don’t care about the kingdom, or the title, or any of it if it means losing you.”

you closed your eyes, his words cutting through you like a knife. this was exactly what you’d been afraid of. he was willing to throw everything away for you, and you couldn’t let him do that. you had to be the strong one, had to protect him—even if it meant breaking his heart.

“jake…” you began, your voice trembling. “i don’t want you here. you’re just… a reminder of what i can never have, of the life i can never give you.”

his eyes widened, shock and hurt flashing across his face. “what are you saying?”

“i’m saying you need to leave,” you forced out, the words tasting like ash on your tongue. “you need to go back to your world and forget about me.”

he stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he processed your words. “no. i won’t do it. i won’t leave you.”

“you have to,” you insisted, your heart breaking with every word. “please, jake. it’s better this way.”

“better for who?” he demanded, his voice shaking. “for you? because it sure as hell isn’t better for me.”

tears spilled down your cheeks as you shook your head, your vision blurring. “you’ll understand one day. you’ll see that i’m right.”

“no,” he said again, his voice firm. “you’re wrong. you’re wrong about everything. and i’m going to prove it to you.”

before you could respond, he stood up, turning his back on you. the door to your cabin slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the silence that followed, leaving you alone with your shattered resolve and the aching emptiness where he’d been.

the days passed in a blur, each one bringing you closer to the inevitable. jake, true to his word, threw himself into life on the ship, trying to prove his worth. he took on every task with determination, learning the ropes, quite literally, and working harder than you’d ever seen him work. he pushed himself, and when the crew tried to tell him he didn’t need to, he pushed harder.

you watched him, your heart breaking a little more each day. he was trying so hard, trying to show you that he belonged here, that he could be part of your world. and every time he looked at you, with that stubborn, desperate hope in his eyes, it took everything in you not to break down, not to tell him the truth.

he didn’t know, couldn’t know, that it was too late. your course was already set, the ship heading back to his kingdom. you’d made your decision, and nothing he did would change it. you’d see him safely home, even if it meant tearing your own heart out in the process.

each night, when the crew had gone to sleep and the ship sailed through the quiet, dark sea, you stood at the helm, gripping the wheel tightly, your knuckles white with the force of it. jungwon had tried to talk to you, his eyes full of worry, but you’d brushed him off. there was nothing he could say that would make this any easier.

you were doing the right thing. you had to keep telling yourself that.

the day you saw the outline of the kingdom on the horizon, your heart clenched painfully in your chest. the castle loomed in the distance, its towers stark against the morning sky. you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to come.

jake was below deck, sleeping in your cabin. he’d pushed himself to exhaustion the night before, working late into the night, and you knew he wouldn’t wake for hours. it was better this way. he wouldn’t fight you, wouldn’t try to stop you.

you steered the ship into the harbour, the crew working quietly, their usual banter subdued. they knew what this meant, what it would cost you, and they respected your decision, even if they didn’t fully understand it.

“captain,” jungwon said softly, coming to stand beside you. his eyes were full of unspoken questions, his expression a mixture of sadness and concern.

you nodded, your throat tight. “get him ready to disembark.”

jungwon hesitated, then sighed, turning away to do as you’d asked. you watched him go, your heart aching. this was it. there was no turning back now.

when you went down to the cabin, jake was still asleep, his face peaceful, a small frown creasing his brow. you stood in the doorway, your chest constricting painfully as you watched him. you wanted to remember him like this, wanted to etch this moment into your memory, because you knew it was the last you’d have.

carefully, you knelt beside the bed, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. he stirred, murmuring something in his sleep, and your heart twisted. you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, your lips lingering for just a moment.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “i’m so sorry, jake.”

then you stood, turning away before the tears could fall. you couldn’t let him see you like this. you couldn’t let him see how much this was tearing you apart.

by the time jake woke, the ship was docked at the harbour, the kingdom spread out before him. he sat up, confusion crossing his face as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings. he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his movements sluggish, still groggy from sleep.

“where…?” he trailed off, his eyes widening as he realised where he was. “no, no, no…”

panic seized him as he stumbled to his feet, rushing to the door. he burst out onto the deck, his eyes wild as he looked around, searching for you.

you were standing near the gangplank, your back to him. jungwon was beside you, his expression tense as he spoke in low tones. jake’s heart pounded in his chest as he took in the scene, dread pooling in his stomach.

“what is this?” he demanded, his voice hoarse. “what’s going on?”

you turned at the sound of his voice, your face carefully blank. his heart clenched at the sight of you, the pain in his chest almost unbearable. “we’re at your kingdom,” you said, your tone calm, too calm. “you’re going home.”

“home?” he stared at you, disbelief and betrayal warring in his eyes. “i don’t—this isn’t my home!”

“it’s where you belong,” you said quietly, your gaze unwavering. “it’s where you need to be.”

“no,” he said fiercely, taking a step towards you. “no, you don’t get to decide that. you don’t get to just—just drop me off like some—”

“jake,” you interrupted, your voice soft, almost gentle. “i’m doing this for you.”

he froze, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold back the anger, the hurt that was threatening to overwhelm him. “for me? you think i want this? you think i want to go back to being a prisoner in my own life?”

“you have responsibilities,” you said, your voice firm, but he could see the cracks in your composure, the way your hands trembled at your sides. “people who depend on you. a kingdom that needs you.”

“what about what i need?” he shouted, his voice breaking. “what about what i want? doesn’t that matter to you?”

you flinched, the words hitting you like a physical blow. “it does,” you whispered. “it matters more than you know.”

“then why?” he demanded, his voice desperate. “why are you doing this?”

“because i love you,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “and that’s why i have to let you go.”

jake stared at you, shock and pain etched on his face. for a moment, neither of you moved, the world around you fading away. then, slowly, the realisation dawned in his eyes, his expression hardening.

“no,” he said, his voice cold, distant. “no, you don’t love me. you’re just like everyone else. you’re just getting rid of me because i’m not worth the trouble.”

“jake—” you began, but he shook his head, his eyes blazing with anger.

“save it,” he snapped, turning away. “i don’t need your pity.”

you watched, helpless, as he strode down the gangplank, his back rigid, every line of his body radiating hurt and betrayal. he didn’t look back, didn’t give you a second glance as he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there, alone, the pain of his words cutting deeper than any blade.

you’d done what you had to, what you knew was right. but as you watched him go, your heart breaking with every step he took, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d just made the biggest mistake of your life.

as the ship began to pull away from the dock, the distance between you growing with every passing moment, you forced yourself to look away, to turn your back on the sight of him disappearing into the crowd. this was for the best, you told yourself. for both of you.

but the hollow ache in your chest told a different story.

as jake stood alone in the opulent chambers of the royal palace, the silence was deafening. the familiar surroundings—grand tapestries, polished marble floors, the scent of the garden wafting in through the open windows—felt foreign, hollow even. he clenched his fists, a bitter knot tightening in his chest as the events of the last few hours played on a loop in his mind.

you had brought him back. without a word, without a goodbye, you had returned him as if nothing had ever happened between them. had it all been a lie?

his throat tightened with the weight of his suspicions. the thought clawed at him—maybe, just maybe, all you ever wanted was the ransom. perhaps every stolen glance, every shared laugh, every tender moment under the stars had been part of the game, just another ploy to keep him content until you could cash in on the prize. he tried to push the idea away, but it clung to him like a shadow, deepening his resentment. he felt foolish now for believing there had been something more, something real.

the ache in his chest wasn’t just from the loss; it was from the sting of betrayal, the sinking realisation that maybe he had been nothing more than a tool, a pawn in your world of gold and greed. the woman he had begun to fall for… did you ever care for him at all? or had he been blinded by his own desires, seeing love where there was only cold calculation?

when he agreed to his father’s demands to marry the princess, he’d done it not out of duty but out of sheer numbness. if he couldn’t have the life he wanted, if you had rejected him and the world he longed for, then what was the point? it was easier to go through the motions, to let himself be swept along by the tide of duty, than to fight for something he thought was never real.

but everything changed a week before the wedding.

jungwon’s letter arrived without warning, delivered to him by a messenger under the cover of night. jake had almost dismissed it, almost crumpled it up and tossed it aside, but the familiar scrawl of the handwriting stopped him. he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the seal—your crew’s seal—for what felt like an eternity before finally opening it.

the words inside shook him to his core.

jungwon’s letter was raw, honest, describing in painstaking detail how lost you’d been without him, how you’d thrown yourself into your new venture with a desperation that worried everyone around you. you were no longer the pirate captain they’d known, but a driven, almost frantic version of yourself, working relentlessly to turn over a new leaf.

“she’s doing this for you, jake, i’ve never seen her like this. she didn’t even bother about the ransom part of the deal”, jungwon had written.

“she loves you more than you can imagine. she’s trying to make herself worthy of you, trying to give you a future she thinks you deserve. but she’s falling apart, and it’s because she believes she made the right choice by letting you go.”

jake’s hands had trembled as he read the letter over and over, his heart pounding with every word. it was as if a fog had lifted, and for the first time, he saw everything clearly. you hadn’t let him go because you didn’t love him. you’d let him go because you thought it was what was best for him. you’d sacrificed your own happiness for his sake, and it was tearing you apart.

the letter had ended with a simple plea: “come back to us, jake. she needs you more than ever.”

the realisation hit him like a punch to the gut. he’d been wrong—so terribly, heartbreakingly wrong. and he wasn’t going to lose you again.

now, he stood outside his father’s chambers, his jaw clenched, his hands fisted at his sides. he took a deep breath, steeling himself, before pushing the heavy doors open and striding inside.

the king looked up from his desk, surprise flickering across his face at the sight of his son. “jake? what is it? you should be preparing for the wedding.”

jake ignored the tightness in his chest at the mention of the wedding. “i need to talk to you.”

the king frowned. “can it not wait? there’s much to be done—”

“no, it can’t wait,” jake interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. he stepped closer, his heart racing, but his resolve unshakable. “i can’t go through with the wedding.”

silence fell over the room, thick and tense. the king’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. “what are you saying, jake?”

“i’m saying i can’t marry someone i don’t love,” jake said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions roiling inside him. “and i can’t stay here, pretending to be happy when i’m not.”

the king rose from his chair, his face darkening with anger. “this is not about happiness. this is about duty, about securing the future of our kingdom. you can’t just walk away because of some—some fleeting infatuation!”

“it’s not infatuation!” jake’s voice rang out, sharp and defiant. he took a step forward, his eyes blazing. “i love her. and she loves me. she let me go because she thought it was best for me, but she’s wrong. the only place i belong is with her.”

“you belong here,” the king snapped, his voice cold and unyielding. “you are the prince, and soon you will be king. you have responsibilities—”

“what good is being king if i’m miserable?” jake shot back. “what good is a throne if i have to give up everything that makes life worth living?”

the king stared at him, his face a mask of disbelief and fury. “you’re being selfish, jake. this isn’t just about you. this is about our people, our legacy. you can’t throw it all away for some pirate.”

“she’s not just some pirate,” jake said, his voice low but fierce. “she’s everything. and i won’t lose her again.”

the king’s eyes flashed with anger, but jake stood his ground, his heart pounding in his chest. he knew he was risking everything, knew that defying his father like this could mean losing everything he’d ever known. but he didn’t care. not anymore.

“i’m asking you to let me go,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less determined. “i’ll do whatever you want, fulfil whatever duty you ask of me, but not this. not marriage. not a life without her.”

for a long moment, they stood there, father and son, locked in a silent battle of wills. then, slowly, the king’s shoulders slumped, the fire in his eyes dimming.

“you’re serious about this,” he said quietly, more a statement than a question.

jake nodded, his throat tight. “i’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

he sighed, the weight of the world seeming to settle on his shoulders. he looked at his son, really looked at him, and saw the pain, the determination, the desperate love that burned in his eyes.

“very well,” he said finally, his voice weary. “if this is what you truly want, i won’t stand in your way.”

jake’s heart leapt in his chest, hope surging through him. “thank you, father. you don’t know what this means to me.”

the king held up a hand, his expression stern. “but understand this, jake. if you walk away now, you may never have a place here again. are you prepared for that?”

jake met his gaze, his voice steady and unwavering. “i am. because the only place i need to be is with her.”

the king sighed again, then nodded slowly, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “then go, my son. and may you find the happiness you seek.”

jake didn’t wait for a second invitation. he turned and strode from the room, his heart pounding with anticipation, his mind racing. he had no time to waste.

he was going to find you, and he was going to bring you back, no matter what it took.

the sun hung low over the horizon, casting a golden glow across the beach as you sat on the soft, warm sand. the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, a soothing backdrop to your swirling thoughts. you watched the sun dip lower, painting the sky in shades of amber and crimson, yet your heart felt heavy with the memories of what had transpired over the past two months.

two months had passed since you left jake behind in his kingdom, believing you were making the right decision. in those weeks, you had poured yourself into your new life as a trade merchant, transforming your ship from a vessel of piracy to one of honest commerce. your crew had embraced the change, excited about the possibilities that lay ahead. the laughter and camaraderie on board had been a welcome distraction, yet every night, as you lay in your bunk, the loneliness crept in like a thief in the night.

on the surface, it looked like you were thriving. you had wealth, respect, and a steady stream of business flowing your way. but it was all a facade.

every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face. the way he’d looked at you that last night, so full of love and hope. you had thought it would get easier with time, but it hadn’t. the ache in your chest only grew, a constant, gnawing pain that no amount of success could soothe.

now that you were currently docked at his kingdom, you couldn’t help but think of him even more, your heart further clenching in pain.

sighing, you pulled your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them as you gazed out at the sea. what had you done? you had given up the one person who made you feel alive, who saw you for who you truly were. you had convinced yourself that you were doing the right thing by pushing him away, sparing him from a life filled with uncertainty and danger. but now, as you looked out at the horizon, you felt only regret. you were a businesswoman, yes, but you were also a woman in love, and it hurt like hell.

you looked out at the sea, your heart heavy. maybe it was time to let go of the past. maybe it was time to accept that you’d made your choice, and now you had to live with it, no matter how much it hurt.

but then, a voice—a familiar, beloved voice—shattered the silence.

“y/n!”

you froze, your heart leaping into your throat. you must be dreaming. it couldn’t be—

“y/n!”

your heart raced, a mixture of disbelief and hope flooding through you. you turned around, your breath catching in your throat. there he was—jake. he stood a few paces away, his hair tousled by the sea breeze, his expression a blend of determination and relief. he looked different, more rugged, yet the spark in his eyes was unmistakable.

“jake!” you exclaimed, scrambling to your feet. he ran toward you, and in that moment, everything else faded away. the world around you disappeared, and all that mattered was him.

he reached you in an instant, pulling you into his arms with such force that you stumbled, your feet sinking into the sand. you buried your face in his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of salt and warmth. “i can’t believe it’s really you,” you murmured, your voice muffled against him.

his arms tightened around you, and you felt your heart swell. “jake, i—” you started, but he pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had escaped your eyes.

“y/n, listen to me,” he said, his gaze fierce and unwavering. “i talked to my father. he finally understood. he gave me permission to leave the kingdom. i don’t want to be there without you. i want to be here, with you.”

your heart raced at his words. you had imagined this moment a thousand times, but now that it was here, you were overwhelmed with emotion. “but… what about your duties? your responsibilities?”

“i don’t care about any of that!” he replied, frustration threading his voice. “all that matters is you. i’ve been miserable without you. i thought i could move on, do what was expected of me, but i can’t. i love you, y/n.”

you felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you wiped it away with the back of your hand. “i love you too, but i thought i was protecting you by leaving. i didn’t want to hold you back from your future.”

jake shook his head, his expression softening. “you didn’t hold me back. you set me free. i realized that the life i wanted, the life i’ve always wanted, is the one i can have with you. i’ll figure out my place in this world, but i can’t do it without you.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, igniting a flicker of hope that had long been extinguished. “are you sure?” you asked, your voice trembling. “what if things get complicated again?”

“let them,” he said fiercely, his eyes locking onto yours. “i’m done pretending. i want to build a life with you, no matter how messy it gets.”

in that moment, your heart soared. you stepped closer, and before you could think twice, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. his lips met yours, a sweet, electric connection that sent shivers down your spine. the kiss was everything you had missed—fierce, passionate, filled with the yearning that had built up between you during your time apart.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you savoured the warmth of the moment. “you really mean it?” you asked, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt.

“i do,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “you’re the only one i want. forever.”

with that, he pulled you close again, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. laughter bubbled up between you as you revelled in the joy of being together once more. you felt lighter than you had in months, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders.

as he set you down, jake took a step back, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “so, tell me about this new life of yours. a businesswoman, huh? i’m not sure i believe that.”

you laughed, a playful glint in your eye. “i’m serious! we’re now trading goods, sailing the seas, and—”

“trading goods? with pirates?” he teased, his brow raised in mock scepticism.

“hey! we’re honest merchants now,” you protested, crossing your arms playfully. “no more piracy!”

he chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll believe it when i see it.”

you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “you’ll see. we’ve got a shipment heading out next week, and i want you with us.”

his expression turned serious, a hint of determination in his eyes. “i’m in. whatever it takes, i’m by your side.”

in that moment, you both knew that the past didn’t matter anymore. you were no longer defined by your choices; you were defined by your love for each other. the future stretched before you like the vast, open sea, filled with endless possibilities.

and as you stood there on the beach, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. your hearts were finally aligned, ready to sail into the horizon of your new life.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @yuniesluv @isa942572 @academiq @missychief1404 @kxppachu (the rest are tagged in a reblog!)

#౨ৎ 𝓐dy writes🪄#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fics #enhypen x reader #jake #sim jake #jake x reader #jake imagines #jake fics #jake oneshots #kpop fics #enhypen royal au #sim jaeyun #jaeyun x reader

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pomefioredove · 22 hours

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Imagine the overbloat gang as fathers or like proud/panicking that their s/o is having a child and they don't know what to do

Imagine the gang trying to give their kids a goid life and getting baby fever like who wouldn't because the kid is literally a mixed of him and you and they gush about how much they love their s/o and children like ???????

Overbload gang as fathers and i will start violently sob

I do have a weakness for familial headcanons :) future au time??

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ as fathers

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral (no mentions of the child's origins), reader is not specified to be yuu, obviously takes place in the future

I think Riddle is one of the most reluctant to have children

for years he was strictly against them. his excuses were always that children are messy, unruly, his career, his relationship with you... but he was mostly just afraid of turning into his mother

as he gets older and forms his own identity, though, he realizes that it takes a lot of intentional effort to fuck up a child like his mom did, and he changes his mind

I can see him with... maybe two kids

he would never want an only child. after all, the bonds he made with his peers are what kept him going

he is a pretty good parent overall. maybe a little to focused on bedtimes and table manners, but the kids don't seem to mind

Trey and Che'nya babysit often (and it's always disastrous)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

talking Leona into the idea of fatherhood is like diffusing a bomb with a blindfold on. the guy won't even JOKE about it

if you do end up with a kid, it's unplanned, whether that be pregnancy or baby left on the doorstep

but he makes a surprisingly(?) good father. defo a girl dad, he would spoil a daughter rotten. lets her beat the daylights out of Neji because that's his little princess :)

parenting is really not as scary as he thought it was going to be

he has "I'm just resting my eyes" *falls asleep for 8 hours on the reclining chair in the living room* dad energy

the hardest part?

pretending to like vegetables in front of the kid to set a good example

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul would actually be an awesome dad idc. IDC!

he has a good relationship with his mom and stepdad (who definitely babysit all the time; they insist on it), so he has good role models

he's not even worried about how it'll affect his career! Azul has a "do it all" personality: businessman, entrepreneur, father, aspiring millionaire...

and he is so overprotective

he'd cover that kid in bubble wrap if you'd let him

but he's really more concerned about their feelings. sending them to school is much harder than closing a business deal

he's a little sensitive, but he knows he'll have to trust them eventually

P.S. the tweels are NOT allowed to babysit. bad influences

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil. ohhh Jamil :(

kids were never on the table for him, even after he met you and fell in love, he just... couldn't imagine it

regardless of whether or not he and his family are in a better place. (for the sake of this story, let's pretend they are. I want him to be happy) he just has so much generational trauma that he knows the child will end up with some, anyway

when, if, he's ready, it will still be a tough process. but worth it

he's such a supportive dad. bragging about his child at any chance, definitely the kind of dad to show everyone the baby pictures without being asked

it gets embarrassing for them as they grow, but he doesn't care

he thinks they're the greatest thing ever, and people should know that!

he is so proud

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil had always wanted to play a father on screen, but once he hits that age, he starts thinking about real life, too

he's gotten where he wants to be, after all: he's still young, he's in love, and his career, as successful as it is, is starting to wind down. so, why not?

he is the most supportive partner you could ask for. despite his schedule, he's involved in everything (yes, even the messy stuff)

he's got a customized baby bjorn and everything

I can see him with... one. just one is enough for him. he also has girl dad energy. he's already looking forward to playing princesses and letting her do his makeup (terribly, of course)

he knows his child will grow to have their own wants and thoughts and personality, and he's supportive. besides, if he has another Epel on his hands, he'll know how to handle them

just... gentler, this time

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

for you, anon, I will enterain the idea that Idia may someday reproduce. but there's still a 50% chance that kid is a robot

joking (kind of)

I don't think he'd even really want kids. considering his own unhappy childhood and the whole curse of his bloodline thing. but, like the others, he can be convinced!

I think he'd make a pretty good father, tbh. neurotic, sure, but he's not too clingy, nor too distant

whatever kids he has will be smart, and he trusts them. he likes teaching them nerdy stuff, too (finally, someone he can infodump to!!!)

he probably ends up with more than he'd think. 2 or 3

as long as you never bring up how cringe he was in college, he's rather mature and prepared for anything

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

out of the whole lineup, Malleus is the the only one to have thought your future children while at NRC. daydreamed, really

I know, not surprising. look at the guy. he's practically kicking his legs back and forth while coming up with baby names in game

it was just a fantasy at first, then you became closer, graduated, got older, and...

Lilia began teasing him about getting grandkids, and Malleus took him quite seriously

he knows he's still young (though, at his age, Lilia was already general), but he doesn't want to wait forever. you both have many long talks on the matter

and end up with... as many children as you can handle, basically

Malleus is somewhat of an awkward father (having been raised by Lilia will do that to you)

but he cares. and he tries! very hard. plus, there's always Lilia, Silver, and Sebek around to lend a hand

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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bakugoushotwife · 21 hours

Text

in my opinion, gojo’s storyline has been handled so so poorly i can’t help but think it’s intentional. it is not bad writing to kill a character—even a beloved character. i know most people will dismiss my criticisms because gojo is so beloved to me and so many others. i’ve said before that i don’t mind if he died. does it hurt? of course, and i would still cry and be sad about it. but there is a beautiful way to do it. with respect and honor for his legacy—for what he has done for your manga, the characters in it, and audiences worldwide. but no…gege chose the path of horror and disrespect. at certain points i’d say to myself, well. this is a dark manga. but essentially gojo is the only character that receives this treatment. since the beginning—since suguru left him, he’s been wondering if he mattered because he was a person, or if he only mattered because he was powerful and useable. we certainly fucking answered that question. he is a weapon and nobody ever cared about him at all!!!

and we knew he was being used—he knew he was being used, but he is selfless. so he did it for his kids. for megumi and yuuji and yuuta—he wanted them to be safe. in these flashbacks it’s exceedingly clear that he knew he would die. again—that’s not my issue. gojo dying to sukuna makes plenty of sense and it would hurt to leave it there. but to give us an afterlife scene where he’s presented a choice—north and south—that concept lead nowhere, that’s truly fucked up. to leave all the subtle clues and hints for no reason but to keep people reading and theorizing his return is fucked up. to continue to use his imagery to promote your manga when you know he’s not even honored in your manga is fucked up. we don’t get a funeral or a grave for him. no one’s spoken about him in chapters despite him fighting for hours against sukuna and damaging him so much that yuuji could win, nothing. yuuta wearing him like a costume and no one is horrified about it. i thought his students WERE different. they weren’t jujutsu society yet. that’s why gojo was their teacher—shaping them into better human beings. how am i supposed to trust in their future when it seems they’re just as cold and heartless as everyone before them? no one has honored gojo in any way since the moment he died. and they’ve forgotten about him. he spent his entire life fighting and no one can even say thank you. gege intentionally used gojo to promote the end of his manga because he knows that gojo fans make up at least half of his fanbase so had we stopped reading when he died, he would have lost a lot of traction. he baited us intentionally, cruelly, and something that transcends storytelling. i’ve truly never seen a mangaka have this sort of vitriol for one of their characters and the people that love him.

we spent the entire last chapter talking about some random fucking mission when we have several unanswered questions and concerns. i thought gege said he wanted this ending to be shocking and something you didn’t see in shonen? tying everything up neatly where no one has any trauma or grief for what they’ve experienced, everyone comes back to life except the one character you hate specifically and choso, defying your own power structures and having everyone laughing into the sunset is exactly how shonen ends so what in the fuck is he talking about??

let me disclaim, this is not megumi hate at all. i love him very much and i am so happy he’s back with the group but like. he shouldn’t be able to even walk. he tanked unlimited void for over 6 minutes whenever that length caused irreversible damage to sukuna himself. not to mention the countless black flashes. so what the fuck? he doesn’t mention gojo at all?? the first time he laughs in this manga is after he reads a note written by his dead fucking caretaker about his dead fucking father? like i don’t believe. random open ended kenjaku/suguru mention just to piss me off, an absolutely no mention of gojos sacrifice or how they’ll miss him. i’m sick to my stomach. gege defiled his memory both in the story and outside of it. wow.

P.S. SUKUNA CARED MORE ABOUT GOJO THAN ANYONE ELSE (SUGURU IS NOT INCLUDED IN THIS I MEAN HIS STUDENTS AND SOCIETY)

#jjk finale #jjk 271 #jjk spoilers #jjk271 spoilers #my comments

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luveline · 16 hours

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Hii! I'm in love with your Hotch adult daughter fics. Could we get one where she is getting bullied in college or where she works and then Hotch finds out somehow and helps her? Please please :)

thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.2k

He decides to surprise you. He’s at risk of embarrassing himself greatly, and he’s okay with that risk.

Hotch stands outside of the George Washington University and winces in the hot weather. The sun beats down on the back of his neck. He’s more aware of how little sun protection he uses as the time stretches on, waiting for you, but he doesn’t mind it. He’s worn full suits in the Nevada desert.

You emerge from the main building where your last class for the day takes place. He dropped you off here last week, got to watch you walk in and say hi to the custodian. It was a nice insight of who you are, someone he’s proud to be the father of though he had little hand in what you’ve become.

Behind you are two female classmates.

Hotch pauses under the tree he’d taken refuge by.

He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can see the rigidity of your shoulders, your hackles rising as they talk. The brunette gets a nasty look on her face, to which you respond, and the blonde’s volume begins to rise.

The brunette looks like she might reach for you. “Don’t touch me,” you warn.

Hotch steps in.

“Hey, excuse me,” he says, loudly and firmly, the Unit Chief tone in play. He’s gotten very good at raising his voice without shouting. “What’s going on here?”

The two women who were talking to you falter, but the brunette stays fiery. “We’re just talking.”

“About what?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“If you’re going to lay your hands on her, it becomes my business,” he says.

There’s a guilt to the blonde’s expression that proves you’d been thinking correctly and that she was going to touch you, even if it were only to grab your wrist, but she bristles and denies. “We weren’t.”

“Then you have no reason to stay.”

You frown deeply. “No, they can finish. Clearly they think it’s important–”

“But do you think it’s important?” Hotch asks you.

Your frown, your anger beginning to ebb. You take a breath. “I suppose not.”

Hotch levels the women with a look. Just a look, not interrogative or heated, but prompting —it’s the kind of look he gives people when he wants them to realise they’ve missed their cue to leave.

“See you next week, then,” the brunette says, a threat he abhors.

“I’m sure she will,” he says, hoping anything unsaid is felt. He has no idea who they are or what you’ve apparently done to make them angry, but you won’t be intimidated.

“Do I need to talk with Dean Langley?” he asks, turning to you as the women walk out of hearing range.

“Aaron.” You look at him, look like him, not in appearance but the pinch to your brow as you rub the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“What?”

“They do it to me every time I’m here.”

“They do?”

You sound like it’s a chore. “They think I’m sleeping with our professor.”

“Why would they think that?”

“Because ever since I stopped working, my grades are much better, n’ they think I cheated my way there.”

Oh, of course. Hotch tries to do something good by you —he’s started giving you a little chunk of money every week so you don’t have to work anymore, nothing obsequious but enough to cover everything you need, rent and food and transportation, clothes, textbooks, and he made it clear you can ask for more— and it makes things worse for you instead. Still, “Your grades are improving?”

“I’m doing pretty well,” you confess shyly.

He holds your shoulder. “I’m sorry they’re jealous, and I’m sorry they’re inventing a narrative to cope. I really can speak with Dean Langley if you need me to.”

You smile and let yourself lean into his touch. “Inventing a narrative to cope,” you repeat. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that one.”

You have more fight in you, it seems. “If it gets too much, just let me know. You don’t have to entertain their delusion.”

“I’ll use that one, too.”

He laughs, hand sliding behind your back to hug you from the side, his nose briefly pressing to your temple before he gives you space again. “I was hoping I’d catch you on your way out, are you busy? Let me take you to dinner, celebrate your performance.”

“You realise I wouldn’t have improved without your help?” you ask.

“I think any parent in my position should provide for their kid,” he says easily. “It’s not help. Not everyone can support their children through college, but I can, and I wish I had been from the start.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” you say.

He nudges you into a walk toward his car. “I owe you more than you realise.”

He takes you to an early dinner, and celebrates your improving grades with the dessert of your choosing. Conversation with you can sometimes feel strange. It’s hard to think you were a kid once and he’d never met you, but then he realises how young twenty two really is, how you’re still willing, longing for him to be a father to you. You’re smug that he’d go to the dean to for you. You like that he stepped in. And you love being doted on, being encouraged. He can see that easily.

“When can I come back to see Jack?” you ask eventually.

He wishes he could say whenever you like, but he has a hard time following Haley’s movements. “I’ll ask. Soon, I promise.”

“He took great care of me.”

The last time you’d stayed over, Jack acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread (which you are, in Hotch’s eyes).

“You know, he had a little trouble with bullies last year.”

“They aren’t bullies,” you say, taking a bashful bite of your ice cream.

“No, of course not. But he’ll understand, if you want to tell him about it.”

“Aaron, he’s five.”

“He’s six,” he corrects.

“Oh, sorry. But still, I don’t think Jack wants to deal with that. I couldn’t unload on him, he’s my… you know, he’s my little brother.”

“Then tell me about it, at least.”

“You saw the most of it.”

He sighs. Wishes you’d call him dad, understands why you don’t, and can’t think of what to do. It was easier when Jack had trouble, because little kids bully each other almost on accident. They don’t know what they’re doing is wrong, having learned the behaviour from their parents. It’s almost never personal.

Your situation is not the same.

“I’ll talk to the dean,” he suggests again.

“Don’t bother. It’s alright. And if it gets worse, I’ll tell you.”

He smiles, reaching over plates to squeeze your hand briefly. “Thank you.”

You look down at your food. Some shyness to you still at being cared about. “Thank you,” you mumble.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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mellosdrawings · 2 days

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How are Vil's fans (and Leona's fans, as I'm sure he have some) with the n2 team? Have they had a big reaction to the fact that it's a polyamorous relationship? How does Jamil deal with this attention?

Do the Asims know about their relationship? I mean, I think Vil as a public figure and Leona as a prince would draw attention.And how does Jamil's family react? I think they want Jamil to be happy, but they're afraid of what the Asims might do. And I think they expected Jamil to end up with a servant (I'm using the reasoning that Viper is Jamil's father's last name, but his mother also seems to be very used to being a servant, so she must be from a servant family of the Asims, less important than the Vipers) or at least a commoner and lower class person than Jamil's current boyfriends.

For now I'll only answer for Vil's fans. The Asim and the Viper reactions will be coming sometime soon.

Vil dropped the news little by little. Leona and Jamil in the background of more relax pics, a couple dance sessions with Jamil, inconspicuous things. Just to get his fans used to their sight.

The he dropped hints, bigger and bigger, until the reveal. Aside from the few fans who are far too into parasocial relationships and are salty about Vil dating coz that means they have no chance anymore (not that they had any), it went relatively fine. They took one look at Leona and went "Yup, our Queen deserves a prince, good for him good for him."

The thing that surprised Vil though is that his fans latched onto Jamil more than Leona. After all as you said Leona is a public figure. They know him. Jamil though doesn't even post pics of himself on Magicam. He's a total mystery. They know he's a dancer so they try to check music videos (useless), they try finding his magicam (they don't), and eventually someone finds out those two pics taken at the Tapis Rouge event (which doesn't help much coz they still don't know who he is lol)

The mystery actually helps fans ease into it. They're just so obsessed with finding who Jamil is that they forget to (maybe) be upset about their Queen's love life.

As for Jamil... he just doesn't deal with the attention. He's not much on socials so he doesn't care, and despite being eye candy he isn't all that charismatic so people don't pay much attention to him. He got cornered by a few hardcore fans who miraculously managed to recognise him and he just plastered his best customer service smile until they left him alone. He's dealt with worse than pushy fans before. He might not be used to being the center of attention, he's still good at dealing with stressful situations.

#i used a template for the magicam stuff #but i can't remember where i got it from coz I downloaded it without noting the source...#if someone knows please tell me #also the @ are legit tumblr @s that I tweaked #coz i couldn't be bothered to imagine some #Jamil and Leona were told and agreed to having their pics posted to Vil's magicam #mello's drawings #twisted wonderland #twst #n2 squad #leojami #leovil #javil #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #leona kingscholar #my art #ask me anything

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multi-fandom-imagine · 3 days

Note

I absolutely LOVEEEE how Stan’s reaction!!! I wonder how Ford would react since he’s like the miracle child of the family

A/n: I'm gonna take a crack at Ford's, I think he would have to be really pushed to the limit and went for the whole Ford brought reader to meet his parents since it's a break from College so he has a bit more of a back bone.

Ford was excited, he couldn't wait for you to meet his parents. He knew his mother would love you and his father....he just had to.

He had too

Giving your hand a soft squeeze, he smiled knocking on the door. It was a normal night, well as normal as it could be for his family. Stan teased him, his mother loved you just as he thought she would and his father well he couldn't really get a good read on the man.

Though it was when his father pulled him aside that Ford could feel his heart slamming in his chest.

Giving his father his father a smile, Ford looked up at the man with a hopeful look in his eyes. "So....they're amazing right! I can-."

"They're not good enough for you....end it with them."

Smiling faltering, Ford looked up at his father in confusion. "W...what?"

"Look at them...they're a mess....end it with them. Honestly son, I expected this behavior from Stanley but you....do better."

"Do...better?" Ford frowned, digging his nails into his palm he gave his father a seething look. "Stan is with someone and...and I love them! I'm not...I'm not ending a relationship that makes me happy because you're a bitter old man!" He snapped then lowered his gaze taking a step back.

"I'm....I'm not doing this while someone I love is in the next room...they don't think I'm a freak....I thought you'd be happy...I'm going to marry them and...and you're not invited to the wedding...just stay away!"

Not wanting to hear his father's response he left the room. Taking a deep breath he made his way to where you were then sat down next to you to take your hand.

Giving him a smile you gave his hand a light squeeze titling your head. "You okay."

Bringing your hand to his lips, he returned your smile resting his head against yours. "I'm better now."

#blurbs #blurb #ford pines #stanford pines #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines x you #ford pines x reader #ford pines x you #gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you

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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 1 day

Text

It was another competion the entire family all shoving and pushing each other into the car to see more of Damian's art.

Tim is excited for Damian.

He knows what it's like, to stand there and have no one show up. To be there all by yourself for hours the only one to visit your booth being the art teacher.

Ms. Carrington who would ask questions and ignore the tears that pooled in his eyes before helping him pack everything up, sometimes even driving him home because of course neither his parents or Bruce could be bothered to pick him up.

He can't really help the envy that he can feel building in his chest mixing with a good chunk of repressed anger.

A elbow being jabbed into his ribs distracts him.

"Hey what's with the face? Perk up Boy-Loser it's Damian's night."

He turns to Steph the smile that he had been attempting to plaster on falling. It's such a stupid thing it's a nickname so what if it's demeaning, he gets called pretender or replacement by Jason what does it matter.

"Do you ever think it's kinda fucked up that not a single person in this family calls me anything that isn't an insult?" He snaps.

She looks shocked. How fucking dare he have an ounce of self esteem. Someone alert the Media Tim Drake isn't a dormat.

He turns away sliding into the crowd.

There's less then half an hour left before he can leave. Pratically throwing himself down in the empty hallway as far as he can get from this entire night.

"Baby bird and Timmy aren't insults? Or are they I can't seem to keep up with the kids these days."

He turns, of course. You might be able to run from Batman or lie to him, but you can never escape the grasp of Big Brother Nightwing.

"So your admitting that your old?" he joins the banter.

His muscles start to unclench another superpower only Dick Grayson seems to have.

"Never, something you want to talk about?"

Does he? No. Should he? Yah.

"Maybe I just don't want be insulted every day of my life. So weird who doesn't want to be reminded they suck?"

He can hear the whine, he can also hear that everything he just said isn't gonna matter. You don't take whiny little boys seriously. And that's what he is.

"Hmm you know I get called Dickhead or really a lot of just penis related jokes. Always hated them not that it really stops anyone."

He looks finally making eye contact with his big brother. Because he's right. How many times has he heard anyone in the family other than him and Damian call Dick anything nice. Never not once. Maybe Bruce but he can't really picture it.

"Also don't think I didn't notice how annoyed you are with Bruce about this entire night, which I don't blame you for. You know I love Damian kiddo, but yah Bruce is not winning a mug from me or you."

He doesn't really want to acknowledge any of that already exhausted and he will have to apologize to Steph and if he opens the box it will be a car ride from hell home.

"Luckily for you I have a car parked a block up we can escape get ice cream and have a nice sleepover in bludhaven."

He wants to so bad, he wants to throw himself at Dick who knows him so well, who followed him out here, who isn't blinking, the only adult who has ever not somehow fucked him over.

"What about Damian? He will be pissed at me for stealing you or something. He doesn't need another reason to stab me."

He turns to look back at the floor.

"Foolish Drake I will be coming with you Father is being insesently annoying and I much rather talk about art with someone who has a brain cell."

Both him and Dick whip around to see Damian standing there a slight blush on his face hesitation making the corner of mouth twitch. He sees Dick looking on unsure. He doesn't hesitate.

"Thank god I know a great place with that Vegan Cookie Dough you like. What you waiting for Big Bird? Let's go. "

Climbling to his feet he grabs Dick and Damian dragging them to the exit he hears Dick's confused muttering sharing a secret smile with Damian before ignoring it.

The night is finally looking up.

#Tim Dick and Damian are the best trio argue with the wall #Don't picture Damian who saw his favorite people leave and immediately was ready to book it also don't imagine Damian listening #working up the courage to try and go with them #but do imagine the other batfamily members looking very confused when they are all gone #tim drake #dick grayson #batfamily #jason todd #bruce wayne #damian wayne #I used Stephanie because in the comics she calls Tim like a lot of kinda iffy nicknames she is usually joking but I wanted to make a point #batfam #batman #dc

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moonlight-prose · 3 days

Text

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 07. BENEATH THE STAINS OF TIME

a/n: wow i stalled on writing this chapter until the last minute. i think i really just didn't want to put them through this, but also i love the angst so it's an internal war i fought with myself. this is the pinnacle of the entire series. the one thing i plotted when i first came up with the story. so grab your tissues, a blanket, and a comfort fic for afterwards. because i am sorry for what's about to happen.

summary: he never liked the variant from your universe; the be all end all hero. but in the depths of anger and pain, logan howlett is forced to make a choice his variant self once made. save your soul and the people you might harm...or save the you he loves.

word count: 9.5k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: DARK THEMES AHEAD BE WARNED, angst, pain, ptsd, talk of drowning, insanity, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: death, grief, violence, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, deadpool & wolverine energy, laura kinney has enetered the chat y'all, father daughter bonding, wade wilson's commentary, sacrifice, time.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He couldn't breathe.

Logan had been underwater before, felt the press of the ocean against his chest and struggled for oxygen. Battling for breath, no matter how small. He understood what it felt like to drown—sink to the bottom and never get up. His adamantium skeleton had been the cause of him drowning far too many times in his life; until he'd grown accustomed to the sensation of fighting for air.

This felt magnified. As if he'd been at the bottom of the Atlantic—straight down the Mariana Trench—for centuries.

Was this how it felt to be buried alive? To find yourself in a grave six feet deep with no way of clawing to the surface.

He never thought he'd understand the sensation that kept him up at night; the prospect of death was too little a threat for him to actually worry about. Unimportant to a man who had spent two centuries of his life barely finding any meaning to it. After all, what was the fucking point when he wound up right back here. In the shallow end of his grave, waiting to lay down and exhale his final breath.

Time fell back into place the moment you left. Fortuna. Someone he never thought would find him here; now brought him to his knees with one simple act.

There was misery in love. He knew this the moment he fell in his own universe. He understood the cost of what might come from you using your powers without restrictions; what Charles told you. Yet he fell anyway. He allowed his heart to open up and give you leeway into the broken pieces of his mind—a part of himself he chose to ignore.

He should have fucking known better than to repeat history here.

He should have ignored the strings that bound his heart to yours and left you alone.

He should have, he should have, he should have...

But he didn't.

Now he bore the brunt of consequences he knew would one day show up.

Your apartment door slammed open, nearly getting torn off the hinges as a familiar echo of heavy boots thumped across the hardwood floor. He felt his spine tense where he still knelt—hands clutching the pieces of your shattered mug. Fortuna wouldn't be returning. He knew her tricks, knew her endgame, and coming back to the scene of disaster was never her forte.

The scent of vanilla and Ambrose filled his senses, stinging his nose, as a familiar dark browned girl rushed to his aid. A backpack hit the ground, sunglasses discarded on the counter, as his variant's daughter clutched his hands in hers. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. Not when he broke right there in a place that held such happiness.

She seemed to understand. Peeling the porcelain out of his palms and placing it back on the table; finding what other shards she could to put them all together. The silence felt safe. Familiar.

Logan found himself suddenly thankful for the variant that once existed in her world. She could see the cues before they even washed across his face; the bitter grief that her father once went through. He knew from when he met her in the Void, he couldn't be that person for her. But when she looked at him like that—a daughter willing to fight alongside her father—he hoped that maybe...he could.

"Althea called me," she said softly, hands wrapped around his wrists. "Whoever she is attacked Wade's place first."

His head rose, anger trickling in his chest as Laura's brown eyes mirrored his own. "She's..."

"I know," she muttered, pulling him to his feet. "Wade filled me in."

"Is he-"

"Takes a lot more than that to kill a Deadpool." She grimly kicked shattered glass to the side, shoving it to a corner as he staggered to his full height. He wore a neutral expression—somber even. But Laura could see the pain in his eyes; an exact replica of the older man she once clung to as a child—begging him to live for her sake. "He sounded pissed. Althea hung up before he could fill me in on the gory details."

"Fortuna," he sighed, eyes fixed on the demolished window. He'd have to help you fix it after all was said and done—after he apologized for dragging you into a mess that was never meant to touch you. "She found me."

Laura's nose scrunched, brows furrowed. "You're ex? I thought she could control time, not...multiverses."

"Charles's theory was that she wasn't exactly controlling time. More like what made up the universe as a whole."

She nodded. "Time included."

"Time included," he repeated. "I didn't think she'd...get this bad."

"You left her behind," she stated, rummaging in your fridge for something to drink. "I guess a part of me can understand her anger."

He knew she wasn't talking about him, but rather the man she once looked up to. Nonetheless the words still stung the same.

In a different world Logan could picture her here on nights not spent at the mansion studying and training. He could see you bonding with Laura—teaching her the history of the X-Men. Showing her the love of a mother she never had.

The image punched him in the chest until his breath became nonexistent and suddenly...he was drowning again. A choked noise echoed in the back of his throat. Laura's head snapped in his direction with concern etched across her face. Any other day he'd loathe that look, but tonight he couldn't dig his way out fast enough to care.

The soda can she tossed his way nearly smacked him in the head; effectively snapping him out of whatever fucking stupor his own mind was intent on trapping him in. He caught it, breath rushing back to his lungs, and gulped down the shitty sugary crap his own kid loved.

"That's fuckin' disgusting," he bit out, watching her smile into her own can.

"I like it."

He winced as the taste hit the back of his throat. "You're a kid. You'll grow out of it."

"You've said that before Dad. And I'm not a kid-" She tensed as the word left her mouth. The title that was never meant to fall upon his shoulders; never supposed to tie him to another person.

Something hesitant flashed in her eyes, mouth now a thin line as she waited for his inevitable reaction to her slip up. The words he uttered beside the fire no doubt on the tip of his tongue: Whoever you think I am...you got the wrong guy. But standing there, watching his kid hold hope in her eyes that he might say something different this time, made him finally understand what the fucking point was.

He didn't want to be the wrong guy.

He just wanted to be what she needed. What you needed.

"No," he sighed, lips curling into a smile that said enough. You can call me Dad. You can give me that responsibility and know I'll fight like hell to make sure I live up to his legacy. "I guess you're not."

They allowed the silence to sit in their chest for a brief moment. A moment of understanding passed in their grim smiles that held so much more. He'd tell it all to her one day. How he once longed for a life exactly like this, for a kid of his own. How he never believed himself worthy of the title Dad. How he'd lay down his entire being if she asked it of him.

Today though, they shed the titles of father and daughter and donned one they knew all too well. Wolverine. Ironic that the one thing he loathed would one day be given to a girl who wielded it with pride.

"What are you gonna do?" she asked, pushing off the counter and reaching for her bag.

"Find her."

"And when you do?"

His heart paused as the realization of what was to come began to reenter his mind. Fortuna had you captive, dangling you on a string in the hopes he would latch on to rescue the person who held his heart. Logan felt the urge to leap. Save you from the clutches of someone willing to kill you just to bring him unimaginable pain.

To get even for what he couldn't do that night.

But he also knew...Fortuna didn't deserve what happened. The humans destroyed what the X-Men built. They were the cause of everything that occurred since he left. He couldn't let their trauma bring down the woman he once loved. Even if she was so adamant on watching him give over his life for a version of her not yet broken by unimaginable pain.

"I don't fuckin' know," he admitted.

She took another sip, crushed the can in her palm and tossed it to the bin in the corner of your kitchen. "Wade's gonna want to speak to you. Find out what happened here."

He nodded. "You got everythin'?"

"I'm set."

"You know you don't have to do this kid. It's not your fight."

Her eyes narrowed, the firm set of her mouth so much like his own. She was a fucking mirror he never thought he'd have; showing him pieces of himself he once thought too ugly to be seen. Yet they were the reason she shined so bright. He could see the stubbornness ingrained into her very own DNA. A testament to his own unwillingness to let things go; to take on the battle for someone else as long as they didn't get hurt.

So much like him. So identical.

He felt a streak of fear run down his spine at that thought alone. She'd have to suffer for it. Just as he did. But goddammit if he wasn't going to do everything in his power to save her from the pain of bearing the title Wolverine.

"You love her," she stated plainly, as if nothing else mattered in this world but those three words. "Which means she's my family. We protect our own."

She didn't give him a chance to respond, scooping up her sunglasses and propping them on her nose with a huff. Maybe she didn't notice how he stood there, eyes wide as something pricked his heart. Maybe she ignored it for his sake—so uncomfortable with being vulnerable like him. But either way he couldn't deny the fact that stared right at him in big shiny letters.

She was his daughter. Through and through.

"She took my arms!" Wade's voice echoed down the hallway, giving Logan pause as Laura took the lead. "Do you know how petty that is? When I find that Scarlet Witch carbon copy I'm gonna shove my katana down her throat as I dance to dub-step-"

"Hi Wade," Laura said, cutting him off from what was about to be an impressive rant.

He spun, baby arms swinging limply at his side. "Oh good. The clone of the man I actually need. Tell me, did you find your father cause mommy has to speak to him."

Logan took that chance to follow her through the open door. His eyes took in the destruction of a once nice living room. Burn marks stretched from floor to ceiling in multiple places where Fortuna's whip had made contact. He spotted two limbs in a pile by the couch, blood pooling on the carpet as Wade steamed with enough fury to sharpen his senses.

She’d come here first looking for him. Which means she somehow knew exactly where to find him.

"Peanut!" he shouted, eyes narrowed and baby fists clenched. "Did you have a nice morning? Get some good head? Because I was attacked by the long lost daughter of Princess Diana."

Laura's head cocked to the side, brows furrowed. "Diana Prince."

"Whatever!"

"Wade." His greeting could have been better. Though he was never one for handing out sympathy to the nearest victim.

Wade ceremoniously collapsed to the floor on his back, thumping his head against the carpet as Logan stepped further into the room. The window was ripped clean out of the wall, glass scattered everywhere which showed how Fortuna found out about her variant self. Logan could practically see the fight happen in the present time.

It made his stomach sour—his heart a rapid beat against his chest.

"How long will it take for those to finish?" He gestured to the arms that currently pointed two middle fingers in his direction.

"Couple hours. Why do you ask? Want a handy?"

"Ew," Laura sighed. "I'm gonna find some food. Want anything?" When Logan shook his head, she quickly dipped back out into the hallway, leaving him to deal with the wallowing lump on the floor.

He sighed, stepped over Wade and grabbed him. "Alright c'mon."

"I'm half the man I used to be. Literally. She took the only good thing I had until Ness got back." The limp wave of small hands in his face had Logan cringing back.

"So she came here first then."

Wade barked out a laugh. "Oh you mean your ex? Sabrina the teenage BITCH!"

Logan huffed, dragged him to the couch that had long chunks ripped out of the fabric. "She's a lot older than you think mouth."

"Sorry my bad. We didn't exchange your preferred blowjob tips and trade secrets about you when she was cutting off my arms!" The roll of his eyes was involuntary, barely there, but Wade latched onto it like a dog with a bone. "Did you just-"

He turned his head, exasperation bleeding into the air. "Did he just roll his eyes at me?"

The room went still as the gears in Logan's head began to turn. The fear was now palpable enough for Wade to figure out exactly what was happening. He sat up straight, gaze latched onto the apartment across the street. The wall gaped like a wound, leaving a trail of ghastliness in its wake. Wade was surprised to see minimal bloodshed, merely the path of destruction left by a being with too much power, but the inkling of you in pain made his stomach churn.

The amount of information he extracted out of Fortuna was slim to none, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what she went after once she was done wreaking havoc in his home.

"Logan," he started, anger trickling into his heart. "Where is sweet angel?"

He sagged into the couch—grief cutting into his chest as images of your smiling face plagued his mind. No answer would have been good enough to explain what happened. His face stricken with despair—the way he clutched his hands into fists on his knees—told Wade everything he needed to know.

Fortuna wasn't here to only kill Logan. Why dismantle one life when she could bring an end to the memory of Logan Howlett in this universe too? She'd take all of them down with her if it meant enacting her revenge.

Starting with you.

"No," he breathed.

"I don't know where they would have-" He bit down on the inside of his cheek until copper burst on his tongue. "Where they'd be."

The longer he sat there, the more he felt himself sink into the despondent pit in his mind. Yet no matter how he struggled to claw at the ground, it continued to drag him in earnest. The sharp peal of laughter—of taunting words that set his teeth on edge—mimicked the sound of Fortuna.

He wanted to scream, but who would be there to listen? Who would be there to drag him from the darkness now that you were gone?

A bag was tossed to the couch, barely breaking through the murkiness in his own mind. Laura dragged the only working chair in the kitchen closer to the couch. The snap and hiss of a Coke being opened filled the dire silence. Giving Logan something to latch onto. He might tell her one day how being near her settled the raging storm in his head; the calm he could never quite acquire somehow flowing through her with ease.

He had people to help him find you; people who cared for your well being.

People who would die to bring you home.

There would be no end for them where you weren't safe. Where they didn't offer themselves up on your behalf. You were the best of them. It certainly wasn’t your fault you fell in love with a man too twisted and mangled by pain to offer you even the illusion of peace.

"I know someone who might be able to help," she said, chewing thoughtfully on a granola bar. "You may not like it."

Wade's sigh was deafening, his body flopping back onto the couch with a groan. "We are not dragging McAvoy into this. Not when Stewart is better drama wise."

She took another bite, distant gaze stuck to a busted picture frame of Wade and Vanessa on an anniversary of some sorts. Wade wore red, Vanessa wore black. They resembled a couple others might look up to. Logan used to stare at it often in his fitful nights of sleep. More so when you wandered into his life; thoughts of a future tantalizingly close to the tips of his fingers.

He wanted that with you. A life worth more than every battle he fought, every scar that didn't stick. All the fucked up things he did evaporated like steam floating off water the second he met your eyes.

You and your honey-like smile; your hand a soft yet sturdy grip in his.

"Is your universe similar to this one?" Laura inquired, back in the moment as her mind reeled with possibilities.

"Somewhat."

"In what way?"

"Places and people still exist. It's pieces of time that are different. History isn't the same here." He could recall you begging him to explain his past. What wars he fought in, what happened for him to get to this point. Yet whatever you recorded wouldn't match the history books housed in your library.

Laura nodded, downing the last of her soda. "So places. Anywhere special she might have gone that might mean something to you?"

His mind fell to the one place even he couldn’t approach. The space that housed so many memories—so much agony. But going back there would mean facing the other X-Men and Fortuna wasn't stupid enough to risk falling into that trap.

"The mansion is too risky."

He thought back to your shared room. The walls that once flickered blue with Fortuna's power as he held her through the nightmares. He thought of a small two story farmhouse that sat on the outskirts of the property line. A home Charles offered. One he intended to rebuild with the promise of holding onto a love so permanent.

His heart dropped, laying in the base of his stomach like a stone he never intended to swallow. "I know where they are."

Wade perked up, arms an inch longer than before. "Mind sharing with the class peanut?"

Logan couldn't hear him over the noise in his head; the knowledge that Fortuna would pull such a heinous act of revenge. Taking you to the place he promised her. It made for the perfect ending to her already tragic story. Logan wasn't sure if he wanted to rip his claws into the couch below, or charge out the door with no plan.

He settled for heading to the hall closet, yanking the door open with more force than intended. It slammed against the wall as he tugged free a black unlabeled duffle bag from the top shelf. After the battle to save Wade's universe, he didn't think he would need this old yellow suit anymore. At the time he was tempted to throw it out and forget it existed.

He eventually came to his senses.

Salvaging what he could and rebuilding small pieces in case the time came formed an amalgamation of what once resembled an X-Men suit. His fingers traced the silver X attached to the belt. The symbol that once held so much hope. Fortuna wore the same. A tie that kept them forever bound; forever each other's equal even in a different universe.

"You're going after her," Laura said.

"Of course he is." Wade stumbled to his feet. "We're finally getting that family road trip."

"Would now be the wrong time to say Avenger's Assemble? Or should we wait for the third act battle sequence?"

Logan felt the gaping maw of his heart grow the longer you were apart from him. An itch formed beneath his skin. The source was indeterminable but he knew what caused it to start. His entire being called out to you, begged you to survive until he managed to carry you to safety. Yet the biting horror of reality began to settle like a frozen chill in his veins.

What if he finally destroyed the only good thing about his life?

What if he was too late?

What if...you didn't survive?

You couldn't differentiate night from day anymore. After the first two hours, you were left with a stabbing pain in the side of your head—turning your vision blurry. After what felt like five or six (or perhaps eight) you gave up on trying to keep count. The veins were prominent against your hands as blood steadily dripped to the floor.

A pool of crimson agony that you could practically see yourself in.

If you opened your eyes, would you see the broken parts of a soul she seemed intent on dragging out? Would they match hers? The sound of her gravel lilted voice murmured in the corner of the room where she waited. A stoic figure of patience. Seeking penance for the harm caused to someone so innocent.

You both knew this was a fight meant for Logan. You knew only one of them walked away from whatever age old hatred still burned bright enough to burn the skin off your body.

That didn't stop you from wishing you could shoulder the burden for him. The words collateral damage didn't mean anything to you before. Merely things spouted to harm your already vulnerable and emotional state. But the longer you gave them time to sink in, the more you accepted her veracity. You would cease to exist one way or another come tomorrow morning.

This was the ugly undeniable truth.

The one thing Logan could not save you from.

"I know you're awake."

Fear curled around your heart like a fist as your eyes cracked open sluggishly—triggering a dull pain in your skull. The ability to speak was stripped from you after an hour of screaming. The hoarse echo of your voice sent a throbbing knife down your throat you chose to ignore.

So you stared at her; watched while she paced the floor in front of you—blue rolling off of her like waves from the ocean.

"He's gonna come for you," she muttered more to herself. "He'll show up."

You groaned and watched her stiffen—milky eyes flashing cerulean. The burn of the rope on your skin counteracted the searing ache in your torso. Her whip hung around her waist—coated in a dried layer of your blood. The sight sent bile up your throat even though your stomach remained empty. She stared at you as if you were someone else entirely; someone from a past life you'd never know about.

The need to inquire—to know more—began to build under your skin. But your body would no longer respond to what you wanted. The depletion of your energy affected more than your ability to speak; it tore at what little movement you had, ripping everything to shreds on the inside. You knew you looked half dead—felt like it too—but she could see the slight twitch of your mouth almost ready to open.

"Charles would have liked you," she revealed as if it were a small secret meant to be kept between the two of you. "He always had an affinity for those interested in mutant powers."

Sucking in a breath, you managed to force your voice to work. "I-I know the history."

"I bet you would." She glanced at the window where dusk crept into the late afternoon sky; brilliant hues of orange and red mimicking the pain in your body. "I didn't think I'd exist in this universe."

"You don't," you croaked. "I'm not a mutant."

Her lips curled, a small laugh exhaling from her mouth. "Yeah. I guess you're not. Maybe that's what he likes about you."

Logan's face seeped into the back of your mind; the tender smile he wore when you woke up together. The hope in his eyes that this might remain a consistent part of his life. That he may have lucked out on the prospect of getting to have you for as long as you chose to keep him.

Suddenly that part of your life felt a million miles away. Just barely out of reach, growing further in distance the harder you tried to capture it.

"I-I'm you," you mumbled, head tipping to the side. "That's why."

"No. You're not me." She regarded you with a look of pity, lips down turned in a mock pout. Ire burned in your chest with the embers of a flame lit by Logan. "You're weak."

You huffed, digging your nails into your palms to divert your attention from the pain. "I survived you."

The slap that whipped across your face was unexpected. You cried out—head falling back against the chair—as she stood over you. Power emanating from her stance. This wasn't someone to toy with. You could see how she craved to rip your tongue from your mouth; the need to silence her variant crawling beneath her skin.

But something held her back from approaching that final line.

Something scared her.

"You won't die if you do it," you wheezed, struggling to breath through a nose so clotted with dried blood. "That's not how this works."

She sneered. "And you're smart enough to know how all of this works."

"So it seems."

Her fingers gripped your wrist, nails boring into your already sliced open skin, as she leaned over you. "The Logan in this universe is dead." You stuttered out a halfhearted breath; body ringing with a plea to stop. To put an end to this fucking torture. "How did he die?"

You winced, leveling her glare with one of your own. "He sacrificed himself."

"You're fucking with me," she laughed, the sound shrill and hoarse.

Neither of you heard the creak behind her. You could barely register anything other than the rush of blood that pounded against your eardrums. She seemed to be enjoying how your body slowly deteriorated beneath the strain of the pain. Far too distracted to notice the person creeping into the house—sunglasses on her face—claws extended in a stance of defense.

"Who garnered enough fucking attention from Logan Howlett for him to sacrifice himself?" she jeered.

"His daughter."

Fortuna spun whip in hand, as a young woman stood mere feet away. Her head was cocked in interest as if she'd never quite seen two identical people in the same room. You knew her name the second your eyes locked on her form. The same dark hair, same grim tight lipped frown. The same silver claws and stubborn streak.

The sight of Laura Kinney took your breath away.

She stood before you every bit the girl that Logan made her out to be as he spoke about her in shared conversations at your kitchen table. You could see the mirror image of her father in each expression, each small twitch of her body that prepared to fight. And something flared to life in your chest.

You were angry that Fortuna was about to hurt her. Logan's daughter was ready to put her life on the line to rescue someone she'd never met before.

A missing detail which didn't appear to matter to her. Logan loved you. That was certainly enough for her.

Fortuna gaped at her—astounded by the familiar details and hints that Laura was indeed telling the truth. Not only had Logan Howlett died in this world, but he left behind a legacy that would live on for him. He saved the only important thing in his life so she could one day do the same for the version of her father who would stay.

"He's here isn't he?" she asked calmer than you expected. The whip snapped to the ground. You flinched at the sound. A fact that Laura clocked within seconds—her head tilted in your direction.

Though you couldn't see her eyes behind the pink sunglasses, you knew that fury burned in them as they would her father's.

"He sends his regards." Laura's fingers curled into fists.

"A child," she spit. "He sent a child to do his bidding?"

She shrugged, lips curling into a false grin. "Don't worry. I'm more than capable of killing you."

You felt pride flicker in your heart as Logan's cocksureness bled through her words. Where Laura went, Logan wasn't too far behind. You pulled at the restraints, the burn of ropes dragging along open wounds, but you refused to let Laura do this on her own. It seemed that the both of you had turned to the same page—her head nodding in your direction subtly.

"Well." Fortuna stepped forward, sapphire pouring off her body. "I suppose Logan's legacy won't last long in this universe."

Laura charged forward with a scream, claws slicing at Fortuna's middle only for the whip to wrap itself around her arm. With a shout, Fortuna flung her to the side—watching with an unhinged smile as Laura hit the wall hard enough to make you wince. You tugged at the rope—a hoarse cry ripping from your throat when a boot slammed into the legs of the chair.

"Don't tell me you're ready to leave," she shouted. "We were bonding."

"Fuck you," you snapped.

"Ouch." Her hand gripped your chin, lifting you to meet her expressionless eyes. "Is that the best you can do, human?"

"No," you gasped, hand scrambling for the knife at her thigh. "This is."

It embedded in her arm, slicing open skin as she shouted in rage, stumbling back into Laura's vicinity. Claws ripped through the back of her leg, cutting open her calf, as a familiar dark head of hair slid past her, crouching in front of your chair with a roar.

"You bitch!" Fortuna tossed the blade to the side, her hand forming around the open wound.

It clattered against the floor seconds before the door burst open—a man in red bursting through and flinging yet another baby knife towards Fortuna's healing body. She ducked, whip coiling like a snake in the air, slamming down with a crack. Wade shrieked, flipping to the side and ducking behind the broken couch as the familiar click of a bullet falling into the chamber resonated in the air.

"I'd say I'll put my hands up but you'd probably tie them together huh. You kinky minx!"

You winced through the grin, Laura's eyes tracked Fortuna's movements like a predator waiting when to strike. Whatever the plan was, Logan was sure to make sure someone was on you at all times. If only to get you out of the house and into the forest safely. From there it was quick to disappear.

Wade seemed to be the distraction in this case. Fitting.

His head peeked over the couch—the whip slicing over him with a sound that pierced through you. "You die tonight Deadpool."

"You don't want me. You want my buddy right outside this house." He stood, finger pulling the trigger quicker than you expected. Only for a silver and blue whip to slice through it—the fragmented pieces of a smoking bullet hitting the floor and rolling away.

"Surrender you walking condom."

"Pump the hate brakes Wanda Maximoff." Another bullet slid into place. "Peanut junior? Would you like to take it away?"

Launching herself into the air, Laura toppled Fortuna to the side with a scream, her claws slashing to get her pound of flesh. Wade laughed, striding towards you—boot effortlessly kicking his knife up and into his hand. You’d never wanted to hug the man more.

He winced at the sight of your puffy face; your right eye was nearly swollen shut from where Fortuna decided to land her hits. A pastime she seemed to enjoy, simply to hear you scream.

You wondered if you took off the mask, would you see Wade's face bleeding with rage. Or did he too wear an expression of pity.

"Logan's gonna kill her," he muttered, crouching in front of you and sliding the knife through the ropes with ease. "I've got ya sweet angel."

"W-Where is he?" You staggered to your feet, Wade's arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you upright. "He can't be here. She'll kill him Wade."

He clicked his tongue, leading you to the front steps, past where Laura was busy twisting Fortuna's whip around her own neck. "He knows what's at risk, angel. Believe me. I offered to be the noble sacrifice but I played that card when it came to saving this universe and there's no take backs."

"He's gonna die," you rasped, your knees buckling as he got you over the last step. "H-He can't die."

Wade gripped your arms, settling you to the ground with a grunt. "You forget who you're fucking sweet angel. He's the Wolverine."

"But she's-"

"A toxic ex who can't seem to take no for an answer. We've all got one of those."

You huffed. "She's more than an ex."

"I know." Pulling the gun free from his thigh, he made sure you were safe before stepping back to the front stoop. "But that doesn't mean this isn't a daytime soap opera." He turned to the treeline with a sigh. "You coming, your majesty or should I roll out the red carpet?"

A glimpse of the man in question stopped your heart, the breath catching in your throat, as Logan finally stepped forth. His suit was sewn with pieces of black leather (no doubt from Wade's leftover stash), a yellow X stretched across his chest now became the sole focus. Yet that isn’t what filled your body with warmth.

This time he wore the suit with pride. A glint of determination was in his eyes that once never used to exist. He stepped forward the X-Man this world needed; ready and willing to take on the legacy of a man he once loathed. You felt your heart twist violently at the sight—love pouring into your chest faster than you could stop it.

"Honey," he breathed, rushing over—hesitation and a storm of outrage clashing together in his hazel eyes.

"I'm okay."

He huffed through his nose, hands gathering you gently in his arms. "Don't bullshit me honey."

Wade's cough was exaggerated, his hands gesturing to the doorway. Laura's shouts and the crashing of furniture being demolished spilled through the broken windows—her rage matching her father's right down to the familiar lilt of her roar. She was a fighter. Just like the man who held you as if you were glass. Your pain, now a reflection in his eyes as he took in what Fortuna did to you.

"You can't kill her. She’s too powerful," you stated.

“You’re safe.” He didn’t seem to comprehend your words. Opting to press you close enough to feel his body heat sink into your frigid form. “That’s all that matters.”

Wade ducked down, pressing his face close to Logan's. "Yeah. I don't mean to interrupt your romantic hero kiss the girl moment. But what the fuck are we gonna do?"

"She can't keep going like this," Logan replied. "Eventually she's gonna have to tap out."

"Of course! Makes perfect sense. Mind elaborating for the audience honey badger?"

Logan sighed, his hand cupping your face with a pained noise in the back of his throat. "Her energy will run out. Same as Charles and...Jean. They couldn't keep up the fight forever."

"Okay but the whole freezing time business." He glanced to the side, shoulders lifting in a perfunctory shrug. "I know right, we really could have explained this earlier."

"Mutants are aware." Logan rose to his feet, leaving you to sit on the ground, your hand outstretched to keep him here. "We have to struggle but we can break free if she's weak enough."

"Wow." Wade sagged, a muffled groan coming through the mask. "That's just lazy writing."

You gripped Logan's hand, forcing him to step closer. "You're not going in there."

"Honey-"

"No." Gripping the stair railing, you struggled to your feet—eyes blazing with a headstrong fighting spirit Logan loved you for. "She'll kill you Logan. I can't lose you. I-I won’t."

His breath was heavy, hand curling around the back of your neck to press his forehead to yours. "You're not gonna lose me alright? Not today."

"Logan-"

Wade gripped your arm, drawing your gaze to him. "Don't worry sweet angel. He's got a bodyguard." You leveled him with a glare that would have sent him six feet under if his mutant power wasn't regeneration. "Have I ever mentioned that your eyes are the perfect shade of rage and violence. It's like a beautiful fucked lava lamp from the eighties."

You weren't sure if he was paying you a compliment or trying to lighten the mood. Logan sighed against your cheek, disappointment practically bleeding through his words.

"Seventies Wade."

"He would know. He's from 753 B.D." He turned. "Before Deadpool."

"A.D.," you spit, fighting the hint of a grin that threatened to bloom across your face.

"Not in this universe."

A shout tore through the small sliver of peace as Laura was thrown from the house, landing in a bloodied heap on the grass. Mere seconds passed before she was flipping to her feet again, claws extended and glasses forgotten about in the dirt. You wondered if the surge of warmth in your chest was pride or something else entirely.

Perhaps one day you'd get the chance to figure it out.

"Time to go do what heroes do," Wade said, nudging Logan as Fortuna floated through the open doorway, landing mere feet away from where you stood.

"Wolverine," she crooned, her boots a steady thump against the wooden porch. "Come to rescue the human I see."

Logan gripped your waist, moving you away from the house with quick steps. You clawed at his back to get him to stop. To keep him from leaving you behind. But Laura's hands on your shoulders forced you to remain calm—to remain on the edge of the property and watch as the man your heart screamed for walked away.

"Logan!" you shouted, fighting against the girl's hold, but the wasted energy was all for naught. There was no breaking away from a determined Wolverine.

He rejoined Wade with a darkened grimace. His claws ripping through the flesh of his knuckles as Wade pulled free the katanas strapped to his back. Your voice shouting his name set his entire body on edge; the urge to go to you, comfort the panic that filled your veins, nearly breaking his spirit.

But this was not your war and Logan would go down fighting before he let another person he loved fall into the hands of death.

"Alright," Wade grunted, cracking his neck. "Maximum effort."

Fortuna's whip snapped in the air, slicing a gaping hole in time as Logan and Wade charged. She leapt forward, boot pushing off the railing and toppling into them with a shout—a stolen knife carving into Logan's shoulder. He shoved her off, claws swiping for her neck, teeth bared in a snarl.

She ducked, foot slamming into Wade's stomach, rupturing the surrounding area with a blast that sent Logan sliding back into the dirt. He grunted, claws burying into the soil as Wade reached for his guns. A single katana forgotten on the ground.

"Pathetic," she sneered.

"Look who's talking McFly." Wade fired off three rounds, watching her roll to avoid the bullets, her hands crushing the dead grass beneath her.

She pointed to Wade. "You're first."

He laughed. "Bring it on you witch bitch."

Fortuna scoffed, glancing at Logan. "Does he ever shut the fuck up."

"Ha! Good luck with that. I can go on forever."

The whip unraveled from her wrist, rapidly slicing towards Wade—wrapping around his arm in a dramatic rendition of what already happened. This time he was prepared. Sprinting towards Logan, he rolled to the side as claws dragged down your arm. Opening a wound in her arm; blood pouring down her skin, dripping onto the grass.

“Fuck!” she snapped, knife lodging into Wade’s back as she leapt towards Logan.

His knee met her stomach, slamming her a few feet back until she landed on the ground. A groan reverberating in her chest.

Time flickered, punching them in the chest as they fought to move. Air rushed to his lungs as she stumbled to her feet—time falling back into place. Wade grabbed the second gun strapped to his thigh with a huff. The shot went off, the bullet finding its mark in Fortuna's wounded arm.

She screamed, falling to one knee—waves of blue pouring into the ground, forming a bubble of safety. She plucked at the fabrics of the universe, pulling them towards her as Wade pulled the trigger until the mag was empty. A pile of bullets by her body now trapped in light.

"Fuck!" Wade tossed his gun to the side.

Logan turned to see Laura holding you back, your face stricken in fear as you watched them battle it out. It was a struggle to have you here. To keep himself sane. He longed for you to be you close. What he wouldn’t give to take you away from all of this carnage. But you weren't safe as long as Fortuna was around.

She would always be a step behind, ready to chase him to the ends of this universe simply to watch him burn. He knew what he had to do. But the cost of making that choice weighed heavy on his chest—choking the very breath from his lungs. Wade could see it clear as day even as Fortuna began to build enough strength to keep herself going—to pull one final move.

With a shout, she swung her arms out, forcing enough energy their way to fling them into the air. Logan watched as spots began to form on his skin—time ripping away the very makeup of his DNA as she swung her whip in the air. It latched to his waist, dragging him forward until he was on his knees—body struggling to heal from something so unknown.

"Is she worth it?" she sneered, fingers curling into his hair to maneuver his head to keep his eyes on you. The struggle you put up to free yourself from Laura's grasp. "I'm going to kill her next Logan."

"No." He pushed against the vice of your whip, eyes latching onto the white streak hidden in your hair. A sign of what Fortuna had already started.

"I'll age her day by day, year by year, until she's dust."

"NO!"

She laughed, her lips brushing his cheek. "And you? You will have to live without her."

Tears stung his eyes when you finally managed to slip through Laura's hold, legs trembling as you forced your body to sprint his way. The sight of Logan's hair graying, wrinkles carving across his skin, brought you to the edge of your sanity. It ripped at your chest until blood poured from your heart. Staining the ground beneath you.

You couldn't lose him; you didn't know how to breathe without him. And you refused to watch him die from the sins of his past; actions he did not commit.

"Wait!" Laura shouted, running after you as Wade staggered to his feet.

"Angel!"

There was no thought process to your actions, no sense why you did what you did. All you could think about—all that filled your heart with dread—was the knowledge that Logan wouldn't survive this. He wouldn't be there to love you, give you the future you desperately ached for. He would never know you loved him.

That alone drove you forward with a pained cry.

Flinging yourself onto Fortuna, you sent the both of you flying a few feet away as Wade and Laura ran to rip her off you. But time stopped. Every sound stilled, and they were forced to stand and watch as Fortuna straddled your waist—her hands reaching for your throat.

"What do you have huh?" she snarled. "What the fuck do you have that I don't?"

"Please!" You punched her wherever you could reach, desperate to get her off of you. "He-"

"He what?"

"He wouldn't want you to do this Fortuna."

She laughed, manic enough to chill your heart with fear. "Who Logan? You think I fucking care? I would kill him in a-"

"CHARLES!" She froze, eyes flashing sapphire as her grip loosened. Giving you a chance to suck in air. "H-He loved you. Logan told me."

"Charles," she mumbled—a glimpse of your shared original color of her eyes coming through the expanse of white. "He's..."

"Dead." You gasped, turning to see three people you'd die for struggling against time—their bodies battling the power of someone far too corrupt. Someone who forgot where they came from; who their home was. "Your family...my family...they wouldn't want you to become this. P-Please. Charles, Jean, Storm. They didn’t want this for you."

She turned, gaze softening. "You would die for them."

Hot tears burned your frigid skin—falling down your temples and into your hair. "I would."

Stuttering out a breath, she fixed you with a gaze of someone you might have recognized in the mirror. A woman so broken by what time did to her. What the humans caused all because of her DNA. You wanted to promise that life might have turned out different if Logan stayed; that she would be safe. But even you knew it would be a lie.

There would be no saving her from the one thing that created her.

Time.

Leaning down, she pressed her forehead to yours—defeat curving around her shoulders, weighing heavy against her heart.

"Tell him I'm sorry," she murmured.

Pain detonated under your skin before you could open your mouth to respond, forcing your body to convulse in her tight grip. Scarred hands pressed tightly to your face, pinning you to the ground as her whip latched around your chest. Logan's roar became a distant buzzing sound that surrounded you as blue washed over your twisted bodies.

Her brows furrowed, eyes bleeding white as her iris began to form once more—the long lost color that matched your own gaze.

A mirror you wanted to shatter. Damn the bad luck that might befall you; this remained too agonizing to endure.

Her lips pressed to your ear, the pain ebbing from your veins with each pulsing wave. You clawed at her wrists, nails slicing through calloused skin as a scream erupted from the depths of your chest. Piercing the air and slamming directly into three chests.

People who were ripping at the ground to get to you—pulling their bodies across dirt as the curse of time began to lift from the air.

"Do better than me," she whispered, the hot drip of her tears mixing with your own.

Someone yanked her off of you, hurling her to the side with a familiar rumbled growl. You gasped for air, dragging your half limp body away from where Logan stood over her—claws a silver shine emanating with a promise.

"No!" Laura and Wade's hands clamped on your shoulders—keeping you at a safe enough distance. This time refusing to give you any leniency in your movements.

Logan lowered himself to one knee, chest heaving with stunted breaths as Fortuna lay before him—eyes wide with fear. He knew you were behind him. He could feel the burn of your gaze. But all the pain Fortuna caused began to splinter at what little mercy he might have held onto. Yet still the familiar fist of grief wrapped around his heart, reminding him of who Fortuna was.

The woman he once loved.

The woman he couldn't save.

"P-Please," she sighed, hand gripping onto his wrist, tugging his claws against her chest. "Before I hurt you Logan. Before I hurt her."

"I-" He squeezed his eyes shut to the sight of a you so broken—so defeated. "I'm sorry."

She grinned, eyes clear for the first time—weightless after such suffering. "It’s okay. I-I’ll get to see them again. Charles. Jean. Storm."

A sob wracked his body as he dragged her into his lap, hand cupping her face with the tenderness she deserved. "Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them..."

"I will," she murmured, allowing him the freedom to break the final vow of their love. "Till death huh baby?"

Your shouts of his name echoed in the background—Wade's voice mixing with Laura's—and suddenly Logan understood why he found himself here. Why he would stay.

They weren't just his family. They were pieces of his heart sliced open and bared to the ravages of the world. And he would be their protector. The one to meet what danger threatened them head on; willing to fight till his last breath.

He'd be the person he could never be for her.

"Of course," he sighed, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Till death."

"Love her," she breathed, cupping his cheek and forcing his claws to pierce her chest. He sliced through her with a choked shout, the warmth of her blood spilling over his hands. Tainting him further; breaking his already tormented heart. "Love her how you couldn't love me Logan."

"I will honey." Her eyes dragged to how you lay on the ground, Wade's body practically covering yours to keep you from getting any closer. "I promise."

Light flickered in her vision—white and blue and perfect—as Logan clutched her close. Sobbing over a woman he would forever hold the memory of. The last of his family that he couldn't save. Her lips curled into a smile—serenity glistening in her eyes—as a familiar voice echoed in her mind. Tugging her close into welcoming arms.

"Hello Fortuna."

She stuttered out what little breath remained in her chest, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Charles."

"I like it," a voice mumbled, breaking through the darkness that shrouded your body. "And not just cause Ness has one."

A girl hummed. "It's cool."

"Very superhero."

You groaned, body battling any slight movement as your eyes fluttered open with a wince. Light streamed through a grand window, the bed too soft to be yours, yet you knew who sat beside you. Even through the blurred haze of vision, Wade's face was unmistakable. Shifting, you felt everything in you lock up—a hoarse cry falling past your lips.

Hands pushed you back down, steadying you gently as you were finally able to see the other person sitting on a table, munching on some fries. She had a shake beside her—feet propped up on the back of Wade's chair. The sunglasses she lost in the dirt were back atop her head, keeping her hair back.

"Whoa there angel face." He fluffed the pillow violently, jolting you slightly. "You've got two broken ribs and a wound across your torso that would give me being ripped in half by Juggernaut a run for my money."

"W-Where's-"

"Shhh." He raised a crystal glass of water to your lips. "Nurse Wade is here to take care of you. Sorry I don't have the outfit. I couldn't get to a Spirit Halloween in time."

Laura snorted into her food. "It's July."

"That doesn't matter. Those stores are like herpes. You can't ever get rid of that fucker."

"Where's Logan," you said through a broken whisper.

The silence isn't what scared you. No, you'd been through too much to be scared by the threat of nothing but melancholy looks in favor of telling you the truth. You could handle the quiet. What sent terror into your heart was the fact that you knew before you even opened your eyes where he was. His warmth was nowhere to be found in this bedroom; it barely lingered on your own body.

The man who held your heart, who promised to always protect you, was gone.

"No," you breathed, tears welling up and once again blurring your vision.

"He didn't want to go," Laura interjected.

You blinked furiously to keep them at bay. "What do you mean?"

"Fortuna." She pointed to the window that overlooked an expanse of green.

With a pained gasp, you turned to see what she was directing you towards—eyes fixing on a clearly buried grave covered in fresh dirt. A shovel stood straight, plunged a foot into the ground—the handle covered in a stain of deep brown.

Laura exhaled heavily. "She's dead. Logan buried her after he...killed her."

The breath rushed from your lungs, anguish slicing through your heart. "He..."

Wade nodded, somber and horrifyingly quiet. "He wanted to stay sweet angel. We forced him to go."

"Why?" you exclaimed, your body trembling under the stress of waking up too soon. "If he wanted to stay-"

"He was broken. I thought when I found him it was bad. This was worse angel face." Wade gathered your hands in his, drawing you close with a sigh. "He needs to grieve her."

"But I love him," you whimpered, unashamed by how fast the tears were falling. Laura watched you with the eyes of her father—striking your heart in a way that split you in two. "I-I didn't get to tell him."

"He knew," she murmured softly. "Trust me."

Wade pressed a swift kiss to your hands. "He'll come home. I made him fucking promise to return to you. But right now he's gotta figure some shit out."

Laura slipped off the table, curled onto the end of the bed and handed you something folded and crumpled—streaked in stains of blood and ink that bled through the thin notebook paper. You took it with a shaky breath, cold hands closing around hers with a grim smile. Something to let her know that you were thankful for everything she did.

She wasn't your daughter. This you knew. But you wouldn't mind if she bestowed that title on you one day.

In fact...you hoped she would.

"He told me to give that to you," she said, eyes brighter than before.

You sucked in a painful breath, unfolding the letter with trembling hands. Seeing his handwriting was like a punch to your chest. The smudged words and crossed out lines as he attempted to explain himself in words for the first time. This wasn't his forte—you understood that—but the fact that he tried filled your chest with warmth.

Honey,

Don't hate Wade or even my kid for me not being there. Believe me I fuckin' wanted to. Almost ripped him to pieces when he told me I had to go for your sake. But they were right. You Fortuna was the only family I had left. I have to remember what loving her felt like. I need to let her go.

Wade and Laura are there to protect you, care for you like I can't right now. But I made a promise to you and her. So you can expect me back one day.

I care about you

I love you.

So much.

I'll love you till the end honey. Don't forget that.

-Logan

You clutched the paper to your chest, salt coating your taste buds as you sobbed for the man that you failed to protect. You would have died for him. He knew this. Perhaps that's why he left; to give you a chance to heal without him. To return as the Logan you met, not the one mangled by grief.

Laura moved closer, her hand shifting to clutch yours as tears glistened in her eyes. A solemn smile on her face. This is what Logan offered you. People who loved you; people who would die for you. Logan made sure that even in his absence you'd be safe—protected.

He gave you the one thing he couldn't keep for himself. The one aspect of his life he had to learn to accept.

Logan left you a family.

note: my brain is mush but i love you guys. it will get better i promise!

#logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #my writing

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