#and now you have to adjust to your normal life again. forget this part that happened because it wasnt supposed to.

[ventcode]

i cant even sleep. this is bad. just caught up in my own thoughts.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR ACCIDENTALLY RUNNING INTO A ONE NIGHT STAND YOU THOUGHT YOU'D NEVER SEE AGAIN *  assorted dialogue for that specific scenario where your muse slept with someone and then they parted ways, never expecting to run into each other until that amazing "oh my god, it's you" moment, adjust as necessary

please don't tell me you work here.

admit it. you still think about me.

that was the best night of my life.

i tried finding you, tried tracking you down.

you never told me your name.

well... this is awkward.

we could go for a round two later.

could i take you out for drinks?

this cannot be happening.

there were no feelings involved.

they're asking how we know each other. what do we say?

i never thought i'd ever see you again.

did you ever tell anyone about us?

maybe we could try going on a proper date this time.

you didn't even give me a chance to talk to you the next morning.

by the time i woke up, you were gone.

you didn't even leave me your number.

i never got your name.

can we just start over and try this all again? pretend like we never met?

so... wait. we're going to be coworkers?

they're very strict about fraternization.

there is no "us." we were never anything.

i cannot mix my professional life and my personal life.

act like you don't know me.

it was just a one night stand.

we should start over.

you can't flirt with me anymore.

i should have spent the night.

can we just act like it never happened and carry on like normal?

i thought about you every night.

no, i've never met you before in my life.

i didn't have time to get involved in anyone.

i never promised i'd stay the night.

i'll admit, it was great.

so it was a night of great sex. big whoop.

they can't know we slept together, okay?

i've moved on, and so should you.

keep this between us.

did you tell anyone we hooked up?

don't give me that look.

so you do think about me.

i wish i stayed overnight.

if they find out we slept together, we're in big trouble.

of course i think about you.

you were honestly the best i've ever had

it was a mistake to hook up like that.

it was just for fun.

we never should have crossed that line.

let's just put that in the past and forget it even happened.

i have to focus on my work now and not think about you.

pretend like we just met.

will you finally give me your name?

so... what should i call you?

i'm not used to seeing you with clothes on.

you look different in daylight.

you can't flirt your way into my pants this time.

it was amazing, i'll admit, but we can't go back.

please don't tell them what happened.

to tell you the truth, i missed you.

i haven't been with anyone since.

we could try being friends.

admit it. you loved it.

please don't mess this up for me.

you've always been on my mind.

i can't believe i finally found you.

if we're going to work together, we need to put everyone aside and focus.

don't smile at me like that.

[spngi]

My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Prologue | part 1 | part 2 | Part 3

Part 4

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings: Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, sexual content, angst.

I’m brushing my hair in front of the mirror when I see Carlos walk into the room early in the morning. He enters without knocking, as if it were just another normal morning in our lives.

“Have you seen my…” he begins, then stops when he sees me standing in front of the mirror. I watch, through the reflection, his eyes taking in my body in just my panties. He stands there frozen for a moment, and I smile seeing this.

“Next time, knock before entering,” I say and turn to face him.

“Well, this is my room too,” he replies, snapping out of his trance and approaching me slowly.

“Not since you decided to sleep in the next room.” He nods, knowing my response is fair. I move away and head to the closet to get dressed, and he follows closely behind.

“By the way, I need to book the hotel for your cousin’s wedding,” I comment to Carlos. “Should I ask for separate rooms?”

I feel like a good actress asking this with such disdain, as if I didn’t care what his choice would be, even though I miss sharing a bed with him.

“No,” he responds quickly, then backtracks. “I mean, if you don’t mind, there’s no need.”

“Okay, I’ll ask Lando to handle it,” I reply. Carlos remains there, watching me dress. I’m not sure why he’s there, although the pants and shirt he’s wearing suggest he has some commitment to attend.

“Do you need help with something?” I finally ask him.

“Yes, yes.” He snaps back to reality and remembers why he’s there. “Do you know where my cufflinks are?”

“Which ones do you want?” I ask, opening the drawer where I kept them.

“The ones you gave me for my birthday,” he says, and I retrieve the box for him. I move closer to help him put them on.

“Important meeting today?” I ask, taking his left hand. The weeding ring, which I hadn’t seen in a while, is back on his hand, and I smile.

“Yes, I’ll be meeting with some members from other families today,” he observes the movement of my hands on his shirt cuff.

“Good luck then,” I smile at him. “And before you leave, sign the birthday card for Fernando that I left in your office earlier, and then you can give his gift to him later.”

“gift for Fernando?” He asks, curious.

“I figured you’d forget his birthday, like all the other years, so I decided to buy something ahead of time.” I finish adjusting the cufflinks and then straighten his shirt.

“And why do we need to give him a gift?” Carlos asks, a hint of irritation in his voice that I don’t understand.

“Because he’s our friend?” I ask, not understanding what’s going on. He furrows his brow and scoffs. He mutters the word 'friend' again, and then I realize he’s jealous of my gesture, feeling threatened by it.

I see how absurd this idea is and how I managed to get into Carlos’s head with the conversation from last night. Fernando was a family friend who had never given Carlos any reason to be suspicious.

“I have to go. I’ll see you later,” I step back, but Carlos’s hand stops me. He pulls me close again and kisses me with urgency. It’s desperate, and his hands grip my body; he doesn’t care about messing up my hair. It’s as if he wants to prove a point that only he can do this.

“I’ll see you later,” he murmurs when he finally lets me go.

….

“This is the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen in my life,” Lando murmurs to me as he observes the small puppy in one of the adoption pens.

“Don’t say that, he’ll get sad” I pat Lando’s shoulder and lean in to look at the little puppy.

“There are some cuter ones over there, look at that one, it even looks like a golden retriever,” he points out, but it’s too late.

“I want this one,” I smile at him. He was right before, the puppy wasn’t as charming as the others, but it had stolen my heart. Maybe I really had a tendency to fall for lost causes. “You’re going to love your new home.”

“Why do you want a dog so much?” The boy asks.

“For company. I’ve been feeling so alone in that house lately, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of joy there.”

“And does Mr. Sainz know about this?”

“No, let’s just make it a surprise,” I smile at him.

“And how are things with you guys?”

“I gave him an ultimatum yesterday, and he seems to be freaking out about it.” I pick up the small golden-haired puppy, now nestled in my arms, his tail wagging with happiness. “He got jealous of Nando this morning, out of nowhere.”

“Nando? Like Mr. Alonso?” Norris asks, and I nod. We head towards the tables where the adoption paperwork is being done.

“Yes,” I reply, and I see the confusion on Lando’s face. “As I said… it was out of nowhere. And the worst part is that Carlos’s jealousy leads to the best sex ever, and I can’t sleep with him, not until I’m sure he’s moved on from that girl.”

“Ugh, Y/N. I really didn’t need that information,” he makes a disgusted face.

…..

When Carlos comes home, he finds me lying on the sofa, watching some silly romantic comedy with our new puppy, Paco, in my lap.

“And who is this little creature?” Carlos asks as he approaches. Paco looks at the man with suspicion but doesn’t resist to Carlos, starting to wag his tail eagerly for his attention.

“This is Paco,” I smile at the puppy. “I got him this morning. Isn’t he adorable?”

Carlos stares at him as he takes the dog into his lap. “Yes, he… is definitely something.” He tries to smile, although he has the same expression Lando had when he saw little Paco at the park. “I didn’t know you wanted a dog.”

“I thought it would be nice to have some company here at home,” I smile at Carlos as I see him playing with the little dog in his lap. “How was your meeting?”

“It went well, no need to worry.” He looks at me and then returns his attention to Paco. The sight makes me melt at how gentle Carlos is. “Fernando invited us to dinner with him. Some other bosses will be there too, to celebrate his birthday.”

“Is that an invitation, Carlos?” I ask him, still not understanding if he wanted my company.

“Yes, yes. If you want to go, of course… it will be at that restaurant you like, by the way.” He replies, looking uncomfortable.

“Alright,” I smile at him and then take Paco from his lap before heading out to get ready.

It wasn’t the first time I had attended such dinners with Carlos. Usually, some other bosses would bring their families or go alone if they were still single. I remember how anxious I was the first time I had to attend one of these, how I feared all these seemingly lethal creatures. Over time, I got used to them all, began to understand that, behind the business, they were all good people as much as possible, and I didn’t need to fear those who were allies of Carlos.

When we finally arrive at the restaurant, Carlos helps me out of the car. He offers his arm as we approach the entrance, his scent enveloping me, and I enjoy our closeness.

As we enter, he helps me take off my coat, revealing the Dolce & Gabbana black dress, which falls just below my knee.

It’s nice to be there, chatting with the other wives and laughing a bit, although it’s lonely listening to them share stories of vacations with their husbands and the mishaps they got into when I had nothing to share with them, not when my marriage had been falling apart for some time ago.

“Definitely a beautiful necklace, but the diamonds don’t even come close to the shine of Y/N’s smile,” I hear Sebastian’s voice interrupt the conversation I was having about jewerly with Carmen, George’s girlfriend, one of the right hands of the Hamilton family.

She laughs at the German’s words, and I lower my head, blushing. I touch the necklace, the diamond riviera cold against my skin, adjusting the emerald gem resting on my neck, a nervous gesture before turning to the German.

“And you’re just being kind,” I tease Vettel, who is leaning over the chair next to me with his usual cheeky smile. “It’s good to see you again,” I greet him.

“And you’re just being modest,” he replies, pulling out the chair and asking if he can sit next to me. I nod, my husband, lost for a long time in conversation with the other bosses, doesn’t seem to notice Sebastian’s presence.

Sebastian sits down, asks how things are in Spain, and tells me more about Germany and how the business is on his side of the country. He is still single, just like Nando, and he always has that flirting attitude, although he always known that I was very happily married to Carlos. Vettel and Carlos were friends, and it was never anything more than a joke from the German; it was never a problem for any of us, it was just his arrogant and cheeky personality that seemed to captivate everyone.

Even though all of Seb’s hints were innocent, I couldn’t help but respond to his flirts that night. Not when it had been so long since I felt desired by any man, and this little act of attention made me as happy as a little girl with butterflies in her stomach. I could pretend, just for this moment, that someone really desired me, could pretend that there were no problems in my marriage, could stop pretending to be the perfect wife for a second.

It’s refreshing and fun, and between a glass or two of wine, Carlos suddenly appears between us, interrupting the moment.

“Sebastian, you should know it’s impolite to monopolize another person’s wife,” Carlos comments tensely, his body next to my chair, one hand firmly gripping the armrest. His voice is cold, and even without seeing him, I can imagine how frustrated he is.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Carlos,” Sebastian laughs, not caring about Carlos’s comment. “It was nice talking to you, Mrs. Sainz. I hope to see you soon.” Vettel smiles and leaves, leaving a sulky Carlos to sit next to me.

Carlos stays by my side for the rest of the night. He talks to the friends across the table and remains next to me throughout. His arm resting on my shoulders is nothing more than possessiveness; he doesn’t care about being affectionate or showing happiness in my company, just wants to show who I belong to.

On the drive home, I watch Carlos sitting next to me in the back seat. He looks troubled, not daring to mention Sebastian’s name, but it feels like any moment one of us could explode in that car.

I hold the diamond necklace, trying to keep my distress at bay with the cold touch of the diamonds on my skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Carlos with his head tilted back against the car ceiling, breathing deeply and heavily, trying not to let whatever is going through his confused mind take over.

When we finally get home, I find the courage to start a conversation with Carlos. I finally have the courage to speak about how I’m feeling at that moment, without games and provocations.

“At first, I thought you were giving me mixed signals, but then, tonight, I understood…” I whisper, sitting on the sofa, taking off my high heels. “I thought you were just having silly jealousy and that it was only the part of you that still loves me taking care of me…”

“What did you expect me to feel after what you told me yesterday? That I should just stand by and watch you become Mrs. Vettel?” He scoffs, pulling at his tie several times impatiently.

“I’m not you, Carlos! I don’t need to jump to the next man just because I’m bored at home.” He just looks at me, his brown eyes shining in the dimly lit room. “The worst part is that I thought this reaction meant you still loved me. But, in reality, it was just you being afraid of losing me, not losing your wife and companion, but it’s like I’m a toy you don’t want to give up.”

“Y/N…” Carlos calls me softly, understanding a bit of my pain or at least trying.

“Every time I look at you, I feel more alone,” I sigh, a stubborn tear falls, and I try to brush it away quickly. Carlos sits next to me on the sofa. Maybe it’s just in my mind, but his eyes also seem sad. “You look at me as if I’m just anyone in your life. And I really need you to be honest with me.”

He nods, it seems that for the first time I’m going to get a real conversation with my husband, with no more barriers.

“Do you feel anything for her?” I ask, and Carlos is surprised by the question. He looks at me uncertainly and finally decides to be honest.

“I think I love her.” When I hear his answer, it feels like a thousand knives cutting through me. I didn’t expect this, maybe a silly passion, but not love.

“I can make you love me again,” my voice comes out shaky. I turn to face him, tears streaming down my face now. “Start over, just me and you.”

“Cariño,” he calls me by the nickname I haven’t heard in a long time and pulls me into his strong arms, a form of support. “I never stopped loving you, I don’t think I ever could, even if I tried.” He sighs, holding me close, I can’t see his expression, but I hear his voice breaking. “But, unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. We fought too much and wore each other down, and… I forgot the good times we had.”

“I’m pathetic enough to hate the thought of losing you. You were right… I think at this moment I’d prefer to gouge out my own eyes than even think about losing you to someone else, and, in the same way, I can’t imagine how I hurt you and how you’re still here.”

“I guess I just love you more than I love myself,” I confess. “I would do anything to make things between us go back to how they were before, but I need to know if you can do that too.”

“If you’re ready to forgive me…” Carlos’s voice is muffled. He pauses as if holding back a sob before continuing. “I’ll be ready to try with you.”

I pull away from his embrace, needing to look into his eyes to truly believe what he said, to understand the information I just heard. His hand is busy wiping my tears, and I can see that his eyes are also misty. I allow myself to spend the night there, in his arms, feeling the comfort of home amidst the warmth of his embrace.

One more part! I hope you guys are enjoying it!

Leave your comments and opinions ❤️

[daenysx]

requests are open!!

era: prison

my masterlist

closer

daryl dixon gives you the affection you need during your period.

the bed is still warm and your cell is not filled with sunlight yet.

you try to pull daryl closer with tired arms and sleepy eyes. he already holds you on his chest but that's not enough. you need him closer, need him to hold you and cover your body with his body.

you feel a cramp in your belly and fist his shirt unconciously. you close your eyes, bury your face to his neck, and try to forget your pain.

ever since your life got better at the prison, your body tries to go back to its normal self. having your period again is a part of it and it's only your first night. it brings you more pain than you used to and you crave physical closeness desperately.

you are glad for the tampons maggie brought from her last run, at least bloody clothes and sheets will not be a problem. the main problem is that your body being too tired, too needy for warmth and affection.

another cramp makes you teary and sad, clinging to daryl like a baby. he opens his eyes, gives you a confused look, and tries to wake up.

"sunshine, wha' is it?"

his sleepy voice reaches your ears and you try to stay calm before another cramp.

"nothing. i got my period and it hurts. sorry, i didn't mean to wake you."

he leans on his elbow and looks at your flushed face. "your period?"

you nod. "yes, my body starts going back to normal. it's nothing unusual, daryl. it just hurts because of the cramps."

his eyebrows furrow when you say it hurts. "do you- do you need somethin'? i can bring-"

you shake your head at his words. "no, no, i'll be fine. can you just hold me?"

he nods quickly and takes you in his arms once more. he adjusts the pillow under his head and leans to it, gives you more space to lay down comfortably.

you snuggle to him, hold him desperately when another cramp hits. you make a painful sound and try to muffle it by pressing your face to his chest. he cups your cheek and looks at you with soft, worried eyes.

"can't we do somethin' for the pain? you wanna take some pills?"

"no, actually pills don't really make it better." you take his hand in yours and put it on your belly. "can you keep your hand here?"

he nods, his big hand covering your belly. "yeah, sunshine."

he keeps his hand there, never takes it away. he starts rubbing small circles on your skin, incredibly gentle and soft. you make a little sound, your body gets warm with his every movement.

"yes, that's perfect." you whisper.

he rubs your belly and when you move his hands to your waist, he keeps giving you a massage there. his hands reach anywhere they can find. your muscles soften under his touch, your eyes close slowly.

"anythin' you need, i'll give it to ya, sunshine." he says quietly.

"i just need you closer." you say with a loving voice. "i don't want anything else right now."

he hums, places you on his body where you are comfortable the most. your body melts into his and cramps start hurting less as he helps you get through your pain.

"daryl...don't leave me, please." you say when sleep gets heavy on your eyes.

"i'd never leave ya, i'm right 'ere." he says. "sweet baby."

[rollinouttahere-writes]

WAIT WAIT Hear me out , what if Platonic Yandere! Strawhats ... As Mermaids/Mermans with Human!Y/n ?

Let's say people that Strawhats meeted either hated them or tried to kill them until they got into fish trap and Y/n sees that Strawhats are quite injured and can't get out so Y/n helps them then runs away because they are hella scared?

I hope this is good! I kinda rushed it so I could have it done before the end of the month.

(Don't) Face Your Fears

Yandere Merfolk Straw Hats x GN!Reader

1.8k words

Part 2

Deep breathes, you remind yourself. Deep breathes.

It was taking everything you had not to turn tail and run, but you stood your ground. You need to face this. You won’t be able to grow if you don’t. Waves crashed onto the shore ahead of you, the noise not allowing you to forget for a second where you were. The salty and fishy scent in the air was also a strong reminder.

You’re not even sure where this fear came from. You can’t recall some traumatic memory revolving around the ocean, you just hated it. The mystery of what hellish creatures lurked beneath the surface, the mere idea of being lost at sea, drowning, it all terrified you. 

All your life you’ve done your best to avoid the ocean despite living so close to it, but now you are trying to face it. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life trapped by your own fears. What if you want to leave this island one day but can’t bring yourself to do so because you’re too scared to get on the boat?

You’ve made some progress, a lot really. Being able to stand on the beach like this was something you couldn’t have done a month ago. Tonight, though, you were going to take this a step forward. You hated doing this at night, but you were too embarrassed about your fear to risk people seeing you potentially freaking out over some water.

Your bare feet dug into the sand as you tried to will yourself to relax and step towards the water. It’s fine. Everything is going to be fine. You’re just going to wade ankle deep in the water and then call it a night. That’s it.

Ignoring the pounding of your heart and the sweat starting to form, you take the necessary steps, bringing yourself onto the wet part of the sand. You cringed at the sensation, not enjoying it even a little bit. 

You stood there and waited for the tide to come back in, forcing yourself to stand still. Finally, dreadfully, a wave comes in and laps at your feet. Your first gut response involves dry heaving and wanting to run away, but you endure. It’s barely touched you, you need to tough it out. 

Despite every nerve of your body violently disagreeing with this idea of yours, you take another step forward. More water rushes over your feet. It’s cold, but not freezing. It almost feels nice in contrast to the humid summer air. 

Now, you decide to wait here and adjust, forcing your breathing to even out again. As the minutes tick by, you find yourself not minding it as much as you initially did. If you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were simply soaking your feet in the river by your home. Maybe you’ll be able to enjoy this? Maybe.

Shockingly, you found yourself walking through the water. Not deeper into it, simply staying at the same depth and wading along the shore. The silence was peaceful, and you found that your previously thundering heartbeat was slowing to a more normal rate. Against all odds and expectations, you couldn’t help but smile slightly. This was incredible progress for you, and you were proud of yourself.

The atmosphere changes as you hear something in the distance. Splashing, and a lot of it. It sounded too loud to just be a fish. Was it a person? Was someone drowning? You ran towards the source of the noise. As you got closer, you could hear yelling over all the splashing, too. It sounded like several people. What the hell was happening?

“Hello? Is everyone alright?” You called out, trying to get a feel for what was going on before you got there.

The splashes stopped, but you did get a response, “Hello? Who’s there?” The voice sounded feminine and distressed. Scared even.

You were getting close enough to be able to start to make out the people. There were a lot of them, at least five, but they were moving around too much to be able to count clearly. All of them were caught in a net.

“I’m (y/n). I was going for a walk when I heard you guys, and I wanted to see if you needed help,” which they most certainly did. How did that many people manage to get caught in a fishing net like this?

“We do! Can you cut this net open?” A different voice piped up, this one sounding like a young boy. 

You could do that, there was a knife strapped to your belt that you kept there both for functionality and self defense. There was a problem though. They were deeper into the water than you were. If you went out to them, you would be waist deep. Much farther than you were prepared to go so soon.

Your hesitance didn’t go unnoticed. “Please! We need to get out of this! Some of my friends are hurt and we can’t treat them while we’re all stuck like this!” The same voice from before desperately pleaded.

Nausea rumbled deep in your stomach, but not just from the ocean this time. You couldn’t just leave a bunch of people to die because you were scared of a little water. Okay, a lot of water, but you won’t even have to swim. It’s going to be okay. You can do this. You will do this.

Forcing yourself to take deep breaths, you march forward. Miraculously, the rising water doesn’t crumble your resolve. You don’t look down at the water, purposefully focusing on the net ahead of you. You need to get them freed, and you need to do it now before you can have a chance to chicken out.

Unbuckling the holster for your knife, you unsheath it and get to work trying to cut through the thick rope of the fishing net. There was a lot of resistance, but you didn’t give up. The segment you were sawing your knife through snapped and you immediately moved on to the next one, vying to get a big enough opening for them to squeeze through.

There were loud cheers from a few of them as the net came undone enough for them to get out. They wasted no time and all headed for the opening to slip through. You held it open for them, wanting them to get out as quickly as possible. 

The first one escapes, and that’s when you feel it. Something large and slimy brushes against your exposed legs. What? That was just a big fish, right? Maybe even an errant piece of seaweed. As the rest of the group filed out, you felt the same sensation on your legs each time. 

These… These people were human… Right?

Chills were running down your spine as you questioned what exactly you were dealing with here. Before you could back away or ask questions, one of them approached you. He didn’t just come up to you, no. He full on threw himself out of the water and wrapped his arms around your torso.

“Thank you for saving us! We don’t get a lot of help from humans most of the time, so I’m really happy that one as nice as you came to our rescue!” This was the same boy that had spoken to you moments before to beg for help. He smiled widely at you, and the moonlight reflecting off the water was enough for you to be able to make out his too sharp teeth. As well as the fins on the sides of his head where ears should be.

Oh my God. Merfolk. This is a merman and you’re surrounded by more of them. Every rumor you’ve heard about them comes to mind instantly in one big violent pang. That they love nothing more than to drag any poor unsuspecting human they come across out into the ocean to drown them. That they would eat you after you died. That they could curse humans into becoming like them.

No. No no no nO NO NO!

With a scream, you shove the merman off of you and make a break for the shore. You get there faster than you thought humanly possible and kept running, not looking back. Fuck this. Fuck them. Fuck the ocean. Fuck everything you’re never going near the ocean ever again for as long as you live!

—

The merfolk could only sit in the shallow water and stare at your rapidly retreating and screaming form.

“I suppose they didn’t know we were merfolk when they helped us,” Robin mused.

“I like them,” Luffy was positively beaming despite being thrown off you seconds before. He’d crawled closer to the shore to watch you leave, his tail loudly splashing in the water behind him.

“Of course you do, you like everyone that looks at you twice,” Zoro scoffed, waving a webbed hand dismissively. He winced when the action strained one of his injuries, causing Chopper to snap at him to hold still.

“No, I really like them! I want to see them again! I bet that if we talk for a bit, they’ll come around,” Luffy nodded resolutely, already imagining what he’s going to say next time he sees you.

“How are you going to do that? I doubt that they’re going to go anywhere near the ocean for a long time,” Nami pointed out.

This gave Luffy pause, but only for a brief moment. His eyes lit up as an idea struck him, “There’s a river that goes through this island, right? I can use that to try and see them again. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they live along it!” 

“At least let one of us come with you, you have no tact throwing yourself at them like you did,” Sanji could tell that this would take a certain level of finesse that their captain absolutely did not have. No doubt he would up and drag you into the water with him if you were close enough to do so.

“You’re only saying that because you want to see them again, too,” Zoro splashed water in Sanji’s direction, extinguishing the cigarette he finally had a chance to enjoy. Naturally, this caused a fight between the two to break out, with Sanji slapping Zoro with his tail while Chopper was yelling at both of them to cut it out.

Luffy didn’t pay them any mind. While your form may have vanished from sight, he could still follow your scent. Even if you weren’t right next to the riverbed, he wasn’t opposed to dragging himself across land to get to you. Now that he had your scent, there’s nowhere on this small island you could hide to stay away from him.

[cosmicdream222]

An interview with a shifter who has been “time leaping” since 2001

I found this website of an interview with a Japanese shifter known as Mr. Kanda. He figured out how to shift back in time when he was in middle school - he calls it “time leaping”.

The original website is in Japanese and can be found here.

Mr. Kanda was born in 1986, and around 2001 failed his high school entrance exam. Due to his intense regret, he shifted back in time to repeat middle school. He then made multiple time leaps repeating certain years of his life, studying different subjects in high school and pursuing different careers. At the time of the interview, he says he has lived about 70-80 years of life.

I translated some of the most interesting parts below.

Note: a Tulpa is a phenomenon that’s like an imaginary friend that actually becomes a sentient separate consciousness from you. It’s an entirely different rabbit hole, so you can just think of it as a dream character to understand his story.

My notes are written in [brackets].

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Mr Kanda’s First Time Leap Story

Kanda: When I was meditating on my futon, I started to have a lucid dream.

At that time, Tulpa talked to me and said, "If you raise your clarity to the maximum in your dream, wouldn't it be possible to time leap, or even move around the world?" I tried it, but no matter how much I increased the clarity, it still felt like a dream.

So Tulpa said, "If you get absorbed in something you like, you won't be able to hear the voices around you, and your focus will gain momentum. You will eventually forget that you’re dreaming," so as a result of playing in the dreamworld, I spent about a week in a dream without knowing it.

At that time, I suddenly realized, "This is a dream", but I had already completely forgotten the feeling of the original world, and the dream world had become my new reality.

After thinking about why I didn't come back even though I realized it was a dream, the answer I came up with was, “It's because I completely lost my sense of the original world.”

To explain it another way, wouldn’t it be disorienting if I told you that the person you are right now is in a lucid dream of another person? That’s what it was like for me. My dream had actually become my reality, and I forgot about my old reality.

Q: What was the reason for your first time-leap?

Kanda: I think because something bad happened and I wanted to pretend it never happened.

The first time for me was probably a coincidence/accident. In fact, when I tried to do it again, I couldn't, so I started practicing with time leaps through lucid dreaming and meditation, and I got better at stabilizing and controlling them.

When people can’t do something, they hate it, but when they can do it, they love it. So once you succeed, even just once, your faith increases, and you know you can do it again!

Mr. Kanda’s Lucid Dreaming Method

Mr. Kanda recommends lucid dreams the most as a time-leap method. This is how he does it:

Before you go to sleep, first visualize in your head where you want to go. Then lie on your back and meditate. When you fall asleep, the images you were thinking about will run through your dreams. If you shift your consciousness to yourself in the dream, you will be able to act without being aware of what you are currently dreaming about.

In normal lucid dreaming, you become aware that you are dreaming right now [known as DILD or dream-induced lucid dream]. When trying to time-leap, the important thing is how much you can act in the dream in a way that is consistent with reality. He says it is important to “improve your clarity” to the point where it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore.

Mr. Kanda seems to be able to suddenly enter into a lucid dream from the moment he begins to sleep, [WILD - wake induced lucid dreaming] and he also teaches us how to do so:

First, relax.

In Kanda's case, he darkens his room 70 minutes before going to bed and drinks hot herbal tea. Adjust the temperature in the room to a comfortable level, then listen to some calming music. It's better to feel a little tired.

Once you get into bed, visualize and replay strong happy and positive memories in your mind. When you feel happy, close your eyes and calm down all at once and enter a meditative state.

Mr. Kanda recommends mindfulness meditation. Don't think about anything, just focus on the sound of your heart and breathing. When you successfully fall asleep from meditation, you are conscious but your body is asleep, and lucid dreaming begins.

Kanda meditates for 20 minutes every morning, not just when he wants to lucid dream. According to him, “conditioned reflexes” [creating habits] are important. By repeatedly performing a certain action, one eventually becomes able to enter that state without even trying.

 

Q: If the ‘you’ from another world were to time-leap to this world, what would happen to ‘you’ now?

Kanda: There seems to be a misunderstanding: there is only one consciousness.

Reality changes depending on where we place our consciousness in a world of infinite possibilities.

I do have consciousness in my other reality, but from the perspective of me in the current reality, it seems like I don't have consciousness.

In other words, my life in this other reality is as if it were controlled by a computer.

Of course, the same can be said for us. From the perspective of another reality’s consciousness, we too live our lives as if controlled by a computer.

In the end, even if consciousness from another reality shifts, the consciousness we see is always here. So no matter what they do, it has no effect on us.

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

Part 13: This Heart is Haunted

18+Only, mature content, angst, reader is being stalked, mention of physical & emotional abuse, biker MC, unprotected sex, sex with someone other than reader, exes are everywhere, mention of battling cancer, home invasion, tarot reading, spiritual guidance, mention of a gun, mention of taking someone's life, hurt & comfort. wc: 8.6k

Masterlist Playlist

Summary: Reader and Eddie are very much in love as the world piles on again. Both of their exes are in town, and Craig leaves a disturbing calling card to let reader know he is watching. Steve is properly introduced to Charlene in more ways than one, Astrid tries to protect Steve in the best way she knows how, and we get a peek into what Wayne "Uncle" Munson is thinking

--------

"Wendy let me in, I wanna be your friend I want to guard your dreams and visions Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims And strap your hands across my engines."

Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen

I'm on Fire Part 13: This Heart is Haunted

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John Gregson sent you a generous down payment for his commissioned painting, and most of it went right to the art store with you to by a roll of canvas, new paints, and brushes. Eddie went with you, and insisted on driving your car, but not before he had to adjust the driver’s seat all the way back so that he wasn’t eating his knees. He found a paint-by-numbers color pack of a dragon for Oliver, and crept up behind you, pretending to be someone else.

“Excuse me, miss? You are so fine,” he whispered in the sketchbook aisle. “Are you single, by chance?”

You checked to each side of you, feigning to look for him. “There’s this one guy I fuck from time to time, but it’s not serious.”

“Oh, is that right?” Eddie tickled your ribs, and then picked you up off your feet, munching down on the side of your neck with his teeth. “You better take it back.”

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” you wiggled free with a laugh that seemed to echo off of the store walls, shoes squeaking on the linoleum.

Eddie wouldn’t let you carry anything on the way out to the car, and you did not miss some of the feminism that left your body in that moment as he held one of the bags in his teeth. The canvas roll was almost too long for the back seat, and you had a moment of panic, but then Eddie figured it out, clapping for himself after and taking a small bow.

The big, scary biker with the tattooed hands and the War Machine insignia kindly reminded you to fasten your seat belt, just as he clicked on his own and slipped his sunglasses on.

“I don’t know, Munson,” you grinned into the sun as he backed out of the parking space. “You’ve been such a help today, there might be some roadhead on the menu.”

He slammed the brakes and snapped his head to look at you, his hair flying, making you get the giggles. “See, now you’ll have to forget I said anything. I want it to be a surprise.”

He continued backing out, checking over his shoulder. “Surprise roadhead could kill a man, baby. You gotta give me some warning.”

So far, it had been the most chill day since before you’d been fired. You were sinking into the routine of “normal” couples, doing mundane chores together, holding hands in public, being sickeningly, adoringly head over heels for each other. And it felt really good. So good, in fact, you could almost forget for a second about all of the shit that had gone wrong, and could possibly go wrong.

Much earlier that morning as you lay curled up naked next to him in bed with your leg over him and your head on his chest, listening to a song by Mother Love Bone pour out softly from the stereo in Eddie’s apartment, he asked what you were thinking.

You’d been quiet for a while, zoning out, touching your fingertips to his as he spread them out to meet yours across the menacing bat tattoo on his chest.

“It’s silly,” you mumbled, kissing his shoulder with the side of your mouth. The morning was warm with a soft breeze blowing one of the long, blue curtains out into the room, and above the sound of the music came the rumble of motorcycles rolling into the compound, and electric drill firing in the garage across the way.

“Still,” he rested his head on yours. “I want to hear it. I want to know what goes on in that quirky brain of yours.”

As comfortable as you were with Eddie at that point, you were shy about admitting some of your deep-seated insecurities.  What if you spoke them out loud and they came true? What if you started to let him know what went on in your “quirky”, anxiety riddled brain, and it scared him off?

You decided to take a chance, burying your face a bit more in the indentation of his armpit.  “In the past, whenever I've felt genuine happiness, or everything seemed to be going really well, that’s always when everything would go to shit.  So, I have this fear that—”

“---that you’re going to lose me?” Eddie interrupted softly, sliding his fingers down to intertwine with yours.  

“Well, yeah,” you admitted.  “Exactly that.  Losing you, or something happening to Katie or Steve’s family.  Anyone I care about.”

“The same shit happens to me in my head,” he promised.  “It almost won’t let me enjoy whatever good thing is happening because I’m already thinking about how it could get fucked up. I’m always anticipating the next bad thing.”

“We are a sad pair,” you snorted a laugh. 

“Hey, really though, listen to me,” he squeezed you tighter. “You’re not going to lose me, baby, fuck that.  As long as we tell each other what is going on and we don’t have any secrets, no one can fuck with us.  I won’t let anyone fuck with us.”

You propped up on your forearm to meet his eyes; they were bright brown and earnest.  You swept his bangs to the side with your fingertips. “Well, that’s good to know because I don’t think I’d survive this level of heartbreak.”

“I won’t ever break your heart,” Eddie searched your face, running his knuckle down your cheek.  “And if you break mine, I’ll probably sulk around for the rest of my life, just a shell of a man, playing songs on the street corner for loose change.”

You chuckled and scooted closer to kiss his mouth.  “What are the deal breakers for you in a relationship? Something you could never forgive?”

He squinted curiously at you.  “Are you trying to walk that line, sweetheart?”

“No,” you bit your lip through a smile, but then dropped your head back to the warm skin of his shoulder.  “My deal breaker is cheating. I can forgive a lot of things, but never that.”

Eddie took a big inhale, thinking about this, but then he swallowed hard. “Just the thought of another man touching you, past or present, makes me see red, baby.”

There was a tension in the air as Eddie considered the crushing weight of said betrayal, and you bit at a piece of skin on your thumb, thinking about the complex inner workings of Eddie Munson.

To break the heavy silence, you started crawling on top of him, kissing his neck, working your core against his stiff morning wood.  Eddie held your face and sucked at your bottom lip, running his tongue along the soft skin there, while you pressed the slick of your slit on his cock, arousal already evident.

“Would you really kill someone for me, baby?” You breathed, reminded of how he said he would kill or die for you.

“Without question,” he hissed at your wetness, reaching down to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance.

You sank down quickly, needing all of him with fluttering urgency.  “When I think of someone, I will let you know,” you hushed.  He cursed into your mouth and spanked your ass as you rode him, knowing that this was the only cock you would have inside of you for the rest of your life, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.  

Back in the sunny parking lot outside of the art supply store, Eddie continued on behind the wheel, pausing for a group of people as they strolled into he store, hand on your leg, squeezing your knee as he waited. He angled the car down in front of a clothing store, on his way to exit onto the street, and had to wait for a couple more people to cross.

You weren’t paying attention, too absorbed at the time pawing through the bag of goodies in your lap, fingering the new pastels and linseed oil with glee. But Eddie’s fingers dug into your leg and gripped there in a way that made you glance over at him.

Waiting at the crosswalk, Eddie’s skin drained of color as he watched the people pass in front of the car. You followed his attention: there was an older woman, perhaps 50, two younger girls maybe ages 7 or 8, a pretty blonde girl around 30, and a woman who could have been a supermodel with long, auburn hair, a short denim skirt, and a dragon tattoo on her thigh.

Your attention rose to Eddie and his nostrils flared, blinking a few times, teeth grinding.

For whatever reason, the tension made you nervous. “Baby, what is it? What’s wrong? Do you know them?”

Eddie swallowed, patting your leg a few times, forcing a smile that did not reach his eyes. “It’s nothing sweetheart. I just remembered something I had to do later on, that’s all.”

Not even a full day had passed since you’d both agreed to never to keep anything from each other, and there he was, lying already. He knew that you could tell he was withholding something, which made it even worse. His hope at the time was, if he ignored it, maybe it would go away.

Somehow, Melanie coming into town had almost slipped his mind, until he saw her there with his very own eyes walking with Chrissy, her mom, and her twin daughters. She looked different, but also exactly the same. The difference was that he no longer found her attractive; she might as well of had rotting flesh rolling off her bones for how repulsed he was to see her there in the street. He wasn’t afraid to tell you, he just didn’t want it to be real, he wanted to ignore her until she left town, and you could live in the bliss of never being able to put a face to her.

First of all, Eddie was a horrible liar. It was not hard for you to put the pieces together and realize that he did know one of the women in that group, if not all of them. But, you took one last look at his profile, told him you loved him, and decided to let it go. For now.

----------

A few days earlier, after the incident with Inky, Steve rolled up to the house at dawn to find Robin waiting up at the kitchen table. She was having a cigarette with her coffee, and Robin never smoked. He watched her bite into her thumbnail, chew it off, and then spit it on the floor as he stepped into the room.

“What’s up?” Steve shut the sliding door behind him and locked it. “Where’s Oliver?”

Robin put her finger to her lips to ask him to ask him to keep it down. She saw how he was favoring his freshly bandaged hand, but chose not to ask questions. “Katie is asleep,” she flicked the end of her cig over the ashtray. “Oliver spent the night with Wayne.”

Cautiously, Steve clapped down into the seat across from her, wallet chain hitting first, motioning for her to slide the pack of bargain basement knockoff cigarettes over. He had his own lighter, but she shot the box of matches over to him as well. Striking the match to light his smoke, Steve bucked his chin at the manila envelope she had next to her. “What’s in there?”

Robin brushed her hair off of her face and hunched forward. “Oh it’s just a little something. Might cheer you up.”

She pushed the envelope toward him with the pads of her fingers, both sets of eyes on it as it traveled across the faux wood surface. Now Steve knew exactly what it was when he saw the label on the front but even then, he was riddled with confusion.

“How did you--?”

A part of Steve knew, even though there’s no way he could’ve had any idea where Robin went that night or what she’d said to Tina to get her to sign her rights to Oliver away. Or the gun she’d pointed loaded and proud, letting them know there were only two ways the night could end, and both involved her walking away with those signatures. The saddest part was how quickly Tina had agreed to take the money in exchange for Oliver; there hadn’t even been a glimmer of internal struggle. Robin told herself it was for the best though, and once Oliver was old enough to ask questions, he would never know about that night, or how quickly he’d been given up.

Now, they really were broke, even more than before, and without any safety net to fall back on. But, no one would ever show up and try to take their son away again without facing legal ramifications, and Robin might’ve also let her know that she wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in her throat if she ever tried to get sneaky. “If you take Oliver, Steve and I will have nothing to lose. You know what they say about not wanting to fuck with someone who has nothing to lose.”

Steve peeked inside, exhaling a long, hot breath. After sucking on his lip for a few seconds, he raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “You’re telling me you got her to sign these and you got them notarized?”

“Katie,” Robin squinted and took another drag. The sleeve of her flannel fell down to expose the vine of an ivy tattoo on her forearm.

“She’s a notary? No shit?” he said the last part under his breath, chuckling a bit to himself.

Katie’s old job status as a notary public was a small detail that Robin had been fascinated to discover. Meeting up at a seedy motel in the middle of the night in her pajamas did not put Katie in a particularly compliant mood, but she offered her official services without too much of a fight. In fact, she had to admit later how much it had turned her on to find her girlfriend holding two people at gunpoint like that. It made her feel like she was in an episode of 21 Jump Street.

Steve rubbed one eye with the palm of his hand. The other hand, the one Astrid had cleaned and put a fresh bandage on for good measure, had just been used as a deadly weapon and pummeled a guy to the brink of death just the day before. He’d do it again in a heartbeat because no one threatened his family and got away with it. “Jesus, fuck, Rob. You know I love you, right?”

“Oh, you better,” she snorted a laugh, and then, softly,“I’d do anything for Ollie. And you. You know this,” and then she smashed the cigarette out in the ashtray. She couldn’t look him in the eye for fear the floodgates would open.

A sob hitched in his chest and he had to clear his throat. He really was on some real emotional bullshit lately and he made a fist with his good hand and banged it on the table, trying to collect himself. “Ditto.”

Robin got up and stretched her arms back with a yawn. “I’m going back to bed for an hour. You at the shop this afternoon?”

“Until late, yeah,” Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of the envelope. “I’m working on that chest piece for Thor.” Thor was one of the other Coffin Kings, a huge, beastly blonde dude with a long, braided beard.

Robin braced her hands on the back of the chair. “You thought anymore about going to Scott’s wedding this weekend?”

“Scott, you mean Daphne’s Scott?” Steve shook his head. “I haven’t thought about it at all, actually. There’s no way I’m going to that.”

Steve had only met Scott once at one of their barbecues, and Daphne knew Robin because her daughter and Oliver were the same age, but the last place Steve wanted to be stuck at was a wedding for two people he barely knew, or any wedding at all for that matter.

“You sure?” Robin craned her neck. “There’s going to be an open bar at the reception.”

“Nah, I got a thing on Saturday,” Steve waved his hand. “Take Katie, why don’t you?”

“I’ll think about it,” Robin worked her neck from side to side. “What do you have on Saturday?”

For some reason, a voice inside of Steve whispered that he should keep his plans vague. “Body guard gig,” he offered in a bored tone. He didn’t have to ask to know that Robin must’ve had to have paid off Tina somehow, and now they’d need some extra cash more than ever. What he wanted to do was change the subject. “Any word from Susie or Dustin?”

“Now that you mention it,” Robin scratched her cheek. “She’s due any day now and no, I haven’t heard a word. I should’ve checked in, I’ve just been out of my mind lately.”

“Dustin knows we’re in the thick of it,” Steve assured her. “We’re the first ones on the call list when she does go into labor, but I’ll give him a ring this afternoon to say hey.” He yawned, blinking his tired eyes a few times. “Should I take Ollie to the shop with me?”

“No, after Wayne drops him off, I got him,” Robin stole a curious look at Steve, knowing full well that there was something he wasn’t telling her. She was too exhausted in that moment to ask any questions as she turned to head down the hall. “Take a shower, dingus. You look like death warmed over.”

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Wayne always kept his shotgun up high in a locked closet whenever the kid came to stay, but when he returned from dropping Ollie off with his parents, he stood there at the open closet looking around for a minute. He fingered through the flannels and old jackets, skidding the wire hangers along the wooden dowel, until he found the frayed denim edge he was looking for. He yanked back the line of clothes so he could pull the article of clothing out and take a look at it.

It was his original denim with the sleeves cut off, known as a cut, or Kutte, with the Coffin Kings MC insignia on the back. The matching insignia among club members were all “cut” from the same cloth. He held it up and wiped his hand down it a few times, as if to dust it off, looking over the worn and road weary patches, including the one with his nickname “Uncle” over the pocket, because he’d been an honorary uncle to so many, including Steve and Astrid.

He took it over to the mirror on the back wall of his bedroom, set the hanger on the chair and pulled the denim on over his white tee, adjusting the collar, working his shoulders through. Chemo had taken a lot of his size, and so it hung a bit loose, but the shoulder muscles were still there, and he flexed his hands, knowing they could still deftly maneuver a blade or a gun, just like the old days.

Sticking out of the side of the mirror was was a black and white photo that had been bent in half and wrinkled over time. A photo of a much younger Wayne, Astrid’s mother Evelyn with her jet black hair over her shoulder in a braid, and Steve and Eddie as little kids; not much older than Oliver. The boys wanted to be a part of the life so bad, even then, that Evie made them their own vests, complete with Munson and Harrington patches and the Coffin Kings skull on the back. Evie had her hand on Wayne’s chest in the photo, gazing up at him, and Wayne’s arm was around her shoulders, but his eyes were on Steve, his mouth open about to say something. Steve was making a face, his mouth in a grimace to expose two missing front teeth, both of his arms up, flexing to pretend he had muscles. Eddie was more stoic, his expression set without emotion as he stared into the camera, hands in fists at his sides, feet braced wide. Off to the side was young Astrid. She was a few years older than the boys, but still a baby. Wayne remembered she didn’t want to be in the photo, but Steve started acting out to get her to come over, and there she was, face slightly blurred as she tried to move away, but a smile on her face nonetheless.

Wayne met his eyes in the mirror; windows to a soul that was familiar but set in a face he no longer recognized. He thought about his panhead motorcycle collecting dust at the storage unit across town. He thought about how badly he wanted to protect Oliver from the horrors of this world, from the MC life. The boy liked to paint and draw and bake things, and Wayne didn’t understand that either, but he didn’t see the lust for danger in his eyes like he had with Steve and Eddie; Steve, especially. Like he wanted to turn the world on its head and dump it out to see how it worked. Maybe he had the love of a good mom for that, the kind of mom that stuck around. He thought about all of the things this disease had already taken from him, but it wouldn’t take this. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

-----------

You’d stayed at Eddie’s for the past two nights in a row, and even though he would have you there with him every night if he had his way, you needed to set up your art room and take advantage of one of your afternoon off to work on John’s commission before you went back to the Hammer. You needed to stretch and frame the large canvas first, a meticulous process that took place in the garage, and then put up painters plastic around the art room so you wouldn’t flick paint around on the walls of the rental.

Eddie had brought you to work and picked you up the night before, and he took you home that next day in the tow truck so he could head to a job after. He popped in at the diner on the way to grab two coffee’s to go in tall white, Styrofoam cups. The older, married waitress there named Donna had a crush on both him and Wayne, and always gave him free stuff, for which they tipped handsomely. He came out of the diner holding the two cups up, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Things with Donna and I are getting serious, just so you know,” Eddie climbed up into the cab and passed your coffee to you, and then leaned over for a kiss once he was behind the wheel. “Black with two sugars for my lady.”

“Well, I don’t blame her one bit,” you clicked your tongue, leaning over to smell the fresh brew through the mouth opening in the lid and feel the steam on your skin, snuggling down into one of Eddie’s hooded sweatshirts. “Now I need to find an older, married boyfriend, and we’ll be even.”

What was meant to be a joke hit a little different because of the whole John Gregson situation, but Eddie snorted a chuckle as he put his cup in the holder on the dash. “You’re gonna turn me into a homicidal maniac if you’re not careful, sweetheart.”

As he got back on the main road toward your place, a glimmer caught your eye. The guitar pic on the ball chain hanging from the rear view mirror had always been there, but now there was a little, silver worry ring on the chain too, hanging flush with the red pick. It was the worry ring you usually wore on your thumb that you’d thought you had lost weeks ago. You reached up to take a better look and make sure.

“Baby, what is my ring doing here?”

Eddie took a wide turn, sucking his cheek, realizing he was properly caught red handed. “You left it on the nightstand that first time you came over,” he answered.

Your mouth fell open to goad him. “Why didn’t you tell me you found it?”

Eddie’s eyes found the ring in question where it swayed with the movement of he vehicle. “I don’t know, I think I meant to, but then I kinda liked having it in here with me. Whenever I look at it, I think about you. Something stupid like that.”

Your heart rushed, sending waves of heat through your veins. You were staring at his profile now, unable to look away, absolutely, wholly filled to the brim with love for this man.

“You really got it bad for me, don’t cha Munson?”

He offered a small nod and a shrug, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

--------------

It was almost 9am by the time Eddie dropped you off at the duplex. Katie was already at the school, and your orange tabby cat Charlie was in a mood, so you sat on the couch with him for a bit while you finished your coffee. Although Charlie loved affection, he was normally such a chill dude, but that morning he didn’t want to leave your side even after you put his favorite gravy bits breakfast in his food dish. You had been gone for a couple nights in a row, but you always came by during the day to check on him, so it wasn’t as if he’ been abandoned. It was almost as if he was trying to tell you something.

You stroked his ears back and kissed the top of his head. “Tell me, my boy, what’s on your mind?” But he only meowed, nuzzling closer, massaging his claws into your leg.

You ate some granola and dropped your bag on the floor at the end of your bed without turning the light on, heading straight into the bathroom for a much needed shower. You let the water get as hot as you could handle it, noticing the bruises on your hips for the first time from the way Eddie man-handled you during sex. You smiled against the stream of water at the memory.

Charlie was sitting on the sink with his tail curled around his feet when you opened the shower curtain, staring you down. “Close your eyes,” you told the cat as you clutched in the air for the green bath towel that was hooked over the metal dowel.

At least, you thought it was hanging there, but now you were grabbing at air because it was on the floor. You wiped water from your eyes and snapped another look at Charlie before you bent down to pick it up. “Did you do this?”

You were mumbling to yourself, wrapping the towel around your body and stepped out onto the mat. You remembered closing the bathroom door, but now it was open and you imagined that Charlie had pushed it open with his brute strength. You paused to put some moisturizer on your face, and then turned to open the door the rest of the way and face the bed, and that was when you realized there was something terribly wrong.

The bed was made; everything neatly tucked, comforter folded back at an angle, as an invitation. Had it been that way before you went into the shower? You wouldn’t know because you hadn’t turned the light on to look. The pile of clean laundry you’d thrown on the messy bed just the day before were nowhere to be found. You weren’t freaking out yet, not when you knew that Katie went into turbo cleaning fits when she was stressed, and there had been a lot going on with Robin lately. But it wasn’t like her to come into your space while you were gone and mess with your things.

A fear began to bubble inside of you as you clutched the towel tighter around your body, senses heightened as you inched over to check down the hall and in the closet. You were starting to feel so afraid that your hands got cold as shock began to set in preemptively.

With trembling fingers, you took hold of the wood knob and pulled open the top drawer of your dresser, only to jump back, covering your mouth to try and trap the scream that erupted.

Your underwear and socks were neatly folded into color coded rows. You yanked out the drawer under that and the next, only to find the same symmetry of tediously folded clothing. The second drawer fell all the way out and crashed to the carpet. In a frenzy, you dove forward and started scooping all of the clothing out of the drawers, yanking them all to the floor, making them a mess, throwing them around the room, tears running hot down your cheeks. You didn’t stop until the bottom drawer was empty; the drawer that had a few pieces of lingerie and silky pajama sets, all of it had been sorted and folded in the exact same way.

You covered your nose and mouth with your hands and sat down on the bed, taking sharp inhales, adrenaline preparing you for some kind of fight, flight, or fawn: whichever would keep you from eminent danger. There was and ocean in your ears.

You did not do this.

Katie would not do this.

The only person in the world who would ever do this

was your maniacal, neat freak ex fiance Craig.

Now you could hear a footstep creak on the wood planks in the hall just outside your bedroom and from behind you on the bed, Charlie hissed.

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Eddie didn’t have to take the long way back by your street with the old Chrysler on the back of the tow, but he did anyway, just because he liked being in your vicinity. Much like the “old days” when he would ride by your work, back when he thought you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

As he turned onto the street, he could see the front of your duplex on the corner, but his smile faded when he saw the front door was open. Not open just a crack, but open all the way, exposing the interior or the house, and you didn’t have a screen door, so he wouldn’t imagine you’d leave it that way on purpose. What if your cat got loose? He took a sharper turn than he should have to line the truck and pull along the opposite side of the street to park it, doing his best not to crush your neighbors garbage can, all the while keeping his eyes on the entrance, thinking maybe you’d appear and there would be some explanation.

He paused before crossing the street as a guy in a hunter green utility vehicle inched its way to the stop sign. The driver stared Eddie down as he went at a crawl, and Eddie was taken aback to be aggressively eyeballed by a stranger, but he returned the heated glare, bucking his chin. “Fuck’s your problem, man?” Eddied shouted, shrugging his hands in the air. The guy gave an open mouth smile, and made a motion of dragging his fingers across his throat, just before he stomped on the gas and flew through the stop sign, taking a right. Normally, Eddie would’ve taken more notice of the details of the license plate and whatnot, but his attention quickly returned to your open door, taking long strides to the opposite sidewalk.

Eddie looked around before he stepped inside, hand on the hilt of his knife. “Baby? Are you in here?” He asked it softly so it wouldn’t scare you. “It’s Eddie. Your door is wide open.”

His ears followed the sound of things being tossed around, and something heavy hitting the ground with a wooden crack. But then you screamed and his heart tightened as he bolted down the hall.

“Baby?” He entered your bedroom to find all of your dressers drawers open, and two on the ground, clothes scattered everywhere. You jumped when you saw him, scrambling back with a shriek, clutching a towel to the front of your body so that you wouldn’t be exposed.

You were afraid of him, or whoever you thought he was. Cheeks wet with tears, eyes wild like a feral animal caught in a trap. You backed all the way to the wall with your hand out, palm up, before you realized who it was.

“Eddie?” Relief flooded through you, and you dropped the towel, stark naked, to run into his arms, a sob choking in your throat. The feel of his denim and cool of his belt bucket against your skin helped to soothe your nerves, taking a deep inhale of the woodsy spice scent of his aftershave.

Eddie’s mind was reeling as he held you tight; one hand cupped behind your neck and the other at your back rubbing in slow circles. “It’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

You blinked hard, wishing he’d never had to see you like this, wishing you’d never have to tell him about Craig and why you were so afraid of him. You had no proof that your ex had actually been in your house, but also---you had all the proof you needed. This kind of sick fuck head game was right up Craig’s alley. But how had he found you? How would you ever get rid of him now? You didn’t want Eddie to have to get involved with this mess. Sure, Eddie was tough, but Craig was certifiable, and you were well aware that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep you in his life.

You buried your face in Eddie’s chest and wrapped your arms as tight as possible, wishing you could both run away and disappear and not have to deal with any of this.

“Talk to me, baby,” Eddie said in a lower octave than normal, his blood boiling. “Who did this to you?”

-----------

That afternoon on Friday, Steve went to meet the woman he’d be doing security for the next day. He gave a low whistle as he rolled up to the main gates, “holy shit,” he mumbled, pinching a smoke between his lips, lighting it while his bike idled and he pushed the buzzer to announce himself. He combed his fingers through his hair as he rode in over a blood stain that was embedded in the cement, shooting a look to the 10 car garage, wondering what kind of beauties were in there and hoping he’d get to drive one.

“Be careful,” Astrid had warned a few nights ago when he stayed at her place. She shuffled her Tarot deck and did a quick reading for him. She tapped her finger on one of the cards. “I don’t like the look of this. I think someone with a dark heart has their evil eye on you.” Without looking up at him, she continued. “I need to do a protection spell before you go.”

“Does that protection spell include you riding my face?” Steve scooted his chair forward, lunging to kiss her temple, but she shrugged him off, trying to concentrate.

Her eyes were sweeping over the cards she’d just pulled for him with a tense bundle of lines between her thick, dark eyebrows. “I’m serious Steve. It’s someone with power who wants to own you, and I think the offer will be very tempting. Think Satan in a Sunday hat.”

She pulled two more cards. Her eyes flicked from Steve to the table several times. “Are you going to some kind of formal event this weekend?”

Steve winced. “Not if I can help it, why?”

This gift that Astrid had was much deeper than deciphering the magic in a deck; she had always been able to see beyond the veil of the known world. It was her gift that kept her lonely, and more often than not, she saw it as a curse.

She sat back in her seat to look the cards over again for an unnerving amount of time. Her intuition was foggy, and she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what would go wrong yet, but there were multiple threats on the horizon and her gut told her it was time to circle the wagons.

Steve’s tongue flicked out to lick the corner of his mouth. “Don’t leave me hangin’ here, darlin’. Do I get kidnapped by a bunch of circus clowns, or what?”

Her eyes locked onto his, letting him know she was serious. “Watch your back this weekend, Stevie.”

He took her hand. “Don’t I always, sweetheart?”

He thought about Astrid’s words as he wound the bike around to park at the front door, exhaling smoke as he flicked the cigarette to the side. He slid his sunglasses up on top of his head, taking in the expanse of the entryway, heavy boots plodding up the steps. At his wrist on a thin leather band was the tiny charm and gemstone Astrid had made him wear after she dowsed him in sage smoke and said a bunch of words he didn’t understand.

Charlene greeted him in nothing but the tiniest of bikinis, a straw sun hat, and a blue and red kimono, and Steve couldn’t help but adjust himself in his jeans at the way her breasts were almost spilling out of the tiny yellow top.

She offered him a drink out by the pool under one of the umbrellas, and Steve accepted a beer.

“I should thank you again for bailing me out,” Steve took a drink, glad that his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses because he couldn’t’ take them off her heaving rack; the way the sweat trickled down her tan cleavage. A pool boy in tight, cut off jean shorts was cleaning debris from the surface of the crystal clear pool with a net at the end of a long handle.

“Anytime,” Charlene was so very charming when she wanted to be. “A friend of Eddie’s is a friend of mine.”

Steve took a generous gulp and put his forearms on the table. “Yeah? You know my buddy Eddie?”

Charlene flipped her blonde hair off of her shoulder. “Has he never mentioned me? We go way back.”

“Never,” Steve said without hesitation, making Charlene frown. “Not that I remember anyway. But Eddie and I don’t talk as much anymore. We’ve been too fucking busy.”

That seemed to lighten her expression, but the thought did occur to Steve to wonder how Eddie got word to her that he was in jail? He was pretty sure he didn’t even know about what happened until the next day. But, fuck it. Who cares how she found out? He just wanted to get this bodyguard gig over with and get his cash.

They agreed on a price for an evening of Steve’s services, and then Charlene led him inside to guide him up the big, lavish staircase to a guest bedroom where she had a gray and white suit waiting for him. She unzipped the black Armani sleeve it was in and Steve gulped. His mind immediately raced thinking about how much he could pawn it for on Sunday if she let him keep it.

“My cousin is getting married tomorrow,” she perched at the end of the floral bedspread, watching him pick the suit up to admire it. “I guessed at your size, but I can have a tailor meet us here before we leave if it needs fixing.”

Sure, Steve had been a bouncer forever, and had worked as an extra bodyguard a few times for visiting celebrities, but a personal bodyguard and escort for a woman like Charlene? Never. He wasn’t even sure why she needed protection for a wedding; looking down at the suit, he felt more like a gigolo than hired muscle.

“Nah, I’m sure it’s perfect,” and then he eyeballed the wedding photo on the vanity of a much younger Charlene with some other dude. “Where is your husband these days? Why can’t he take you?”

Charlene stretched back so that she was spread out on the bed, the nipple of one breast poking out from under the thin material. Her body was toned and supple and not at all what he expected a woman in her mid 40’s to look like. “My husband leaves town a lot for work. He doesn’t ask what I do, and I don’t ask what he does.”

“Fair enough,” Steve flicked his tongue over his gold tooth, watching the way she arched her back, exposing herself to him, making him palm his erection through his denim.

“For instance,” Charlene reached behind her neck to undo the tie for her bikini top, pulling it down, letting him see the expensive titties in all their glory. “He left yesterday and won’t be home until next week.”

So, of course Steve fucked her. He came between her tits and gave her a pearl necklace made of his cum, liking the way it dripped down her throat. He fucked her ass because she begged him to, using only spit for lube, her face pressed into the mattress, until she came, and then Steve milked a few more bursts of cum onto her backside with a grunt.

He liked getting paid and getting laid at the same time. He felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for a perfect situation like this to fall into his lap.

---------

Eddie paced at the doorway, flexing his hands into fists, “so this Craig fucker came here to what? Terrorize you? Try and get you back? I will put a bullet in his skull.”

You gave Eddie the cliff notes version of your relationship with Craig while you got dressed. How you thought he was fun and charming at first, but once you moved in with him, things got scary. He wouldn’t let you talk to your friends or go anywhere without him. When you first got the courage to leave, he broke into the house you were staying at in the middle of the night and put a knife to your throat. He’d been honorably discharged from the military and used his connections in the police force to bypass the protection order you filed on him. He was emotionally and physically abusive and stalked you for two years before you were able to make it to Hawkins without much more than the clothes on your back, and Eddie was reeling with how bad he wanted to get his hands on this guy. It made him want to start going up and down every street looking for him, which was not totally out of the question.

He had to go outside on the back patio for a smoke and you followed him. You sat down in one of the camp chairs on the concrete slab facing a patch of lawn that was maintained by the owner of the duplex, but Eddie stayed on his feet. You watched the muscles in his jaw flex as he frowned into his cigarette, his thoughts going to dark and dangerous places.

From what you told him about what the guy looked like and the description of his car, that was the dude who had stared Eddie down earlier. He didn’t want to alarm you anymore than you already were by telling you that he saw him, that the fucker had probably been in your house while you were taking a shower. He couldn’t have you staying at the duplex anymore until he could make sure that creep was long gone, and by long gone, he meant he was ready to put him in the dirt. If anyone could find him, Eddie could. He had family of the Kings who worked at police dispatch, and he had eyes all over town, from other tow truck drivers to every member of several MC’s. If this guy thought he was so sneaky, Eddie could do him one better.

Eddie was in a bad mood, cracking his knuckles, thinking about how much he would enjoy hurting this guy, when he heard a sniffle and realized you were crying.

“Hey, hey,” he snubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray Katie had there for the smoking she did when she was buzzed, and got down on his knees in front of you. He wiped a single tear off your cheek with his thumb, holding your jaw with gentle force so you would look at him. “This guy, he’s not gonna get near you again, alright? You’re gonna stay with me until I know you’re safe.” He cupped his hand around your neck and pulled your forehead to his. “Hey, I love you. You trust me when I say I’ll protect you, right?”

“It’s not that,” your eyes went to the Munson’s Garage patch on the front of his light blue work shirt. You kept your forehead pressed to his because you couldn’t look him in the eye. “Craig is dangerous, baby. I mean, he’s really crazy. I don’t want you getting hurt or---”

Eddie sat back on his heels, tilting his head to meet you eyes. “And you don’t think I’m crazy? Baby. I know you get the fluffy side of Eddie but I can do dangerous and crazy with the best of them. Okay? That’s all I’ve ever done. No one is going to fuck with my girl.”

His chocolate eyes searched you, needing to know that you believed you were safe.

You gnawed at your lip, eyes dewy and bloodshot. “I just wish this wasn’t happening,” you dropped your head again, mouth jerking down with impending sobs. “I wish we could run away.”

“Sorry baby but, fuck that,” Eddie stood. “You had to run from this guy once, he’s not gonna get the satisfaction of scaring you off this time. You’ve got me now.”

He squatted again, motioning for you to give him your hand and then he held it tight, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “And Steve and Robin and Wayne, and the whole Coffin Kings MC, baby. I want you to trust me. This fucker will be sorry he ever stepped foot in Hawkins.”

You slotted your hands on either side of his neck at his jawline, pulling him in, and the salt of your tears mingled in the kiss, your mouth opening wide to take him deeper. Unexpected moans of desperation escaped both of you, hands greedy for purchase on each other’s parts. You made it back inside the house just in time for Eddie to dive his hand down the waistband of your shorts.

“You’re mine,” he breathed, fucking two fingers up inside you, stifling your cry of pleasure with his mouth.

You scrambled to undo his jeans, pushing them down his hips. “I need you so bad, baby. Fuck me.”

There was no time to make it to the bedroom, you broke the kiss only long enough to bend over the kitchen island, shorts down, arching your ass up. Eddie swiped his cock along your glistening core only once before burying it inside of you groaning at the sensation. “Holy fuck, I love you,” Eddie murmured, proceeding to fuck his entire length inside, pulling your slit apart with his thumbs so that he could watch himself enter you.

You bucked back against him, meeting his urgency, biting your lip through hungry whimpers. Eddie shoveled his hand around the front of your throat and pulled you back, choking you with soft pressure while he other hand braced at your hip and he fucked you hard. He preferred to look at you when he was about to cum, but the two of you were frantic, and he was already close. Clinging to the counter, the wet slapping sounds of Eddie stretching you out were about to throw you over the edge. His hand moved from your throat to your mouth, dipping inside for you to suck them.

Eddie’s hips locked onto you as he came, and the sensation made your walls flutter, gripping him in a way that extended his orgasm, cursing, both of you crying out, able to forget about the worries of the world if only for those precious moments as you rode the high.

---------

At a decent chain Motel by a truck stop near the highway, Craig Ludlow paid for a week in advance and sat in the dark puffing a cigar by the window with the curtain tightly closed. An episode of The Twilight Zone was on the TV, and it was the only light but for the golden glow from the bathroom in the hall. On the table next to him was a razor blade on a mirror with white powder residue, a shot glass empty of its Jim Beam, and a handgun.

There had been an ugly landscape painting on the opposite wall, but he took it down to make room for his work. There was a big cork board there now, a place for all of the information he had on you and your little biker friends. Steve’s mugshot was up there, along with one of Eddie from 10 years earlier. Information on Wayne, Katie, the Velvet Hammer, every person or place you’d touched since you’d been to town. Somehow you’d slipped through his fingertips, and oh god, how he had missed you. Being a part of your life and knowing what you were up to was a part of who he was now, and he’d been feeling lost without it.

He planned use his connections to get in with Chief Hopper and make sure your new biker boyfriend had the law down his throat around every turn. Why was it so much to ask for you to let him love you? Your house was a mess, your bed not even made. Nothing in your drawers had been folded. It was obvious that you needed him and missed him and just didn’t know how to ask. You had always been such a prideful, silly goose.

A girl named Shari was working the night shift at the motel when she noticed, not for the first time, how odd the guy who checked into room 11 was. Shari happened to be the old lady of a Coffin Kings member named Jester, and she would tell him all about it, including the make and color of the SUV he drove, over the phone when he called to check up on her that evening. Coincidentally, War Machine had just let everyone know to keep an eye out for a creep of the same description who was stalking his girl. Jester headed over to make sure Shari was okay and waited in the shadows near the truck stop on his chopper, watching the lights from the TV flicker in room 11, keeping an eye on this guy so he could follow if he took off. Keeping him in his crosshairs to see if he should take care of this guy himself before he passed the word on to Eddie.

PART 14

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[seospicybin]

PLUTO.

EPILOGUE

Chapters: Part I / Part II

Synopsis: Knowing that your life will end soon, you choose to have your desired death by making a pact with the devil with a red hair, Hyunjin. (9,5k words)

Author's note: Thank you for reading Pluto series! As always, feel free to vent on my ask/messages :)

Tick, tick, tick.

That was the last you heard, the ticking sounds of the clock. But what you're hearing right now is the beeping sound.

Your eyes are too heavy but you keep on trying to open your eyes and see where you are.

Once you manage to lift your eyes a little, the lights blind you and you quickly shut them again.

You try to shield your eyes with your hand but no matter how much you tried, you feel like barely moving.

You slowly open your eyes again and close them for a second, it takes you a moment to adjust them to the lights and finally be able to look.

White. It's all white.

You're in an empty room and everything is white, you smell something through your nostrils, something sharp and clean.

You turn your head to the side and see where the beeping sound coming from, it's coming from a machine.

Disoriented and confused, the machine starts to beep to the same rhythm as your heartbeat and it's going faster and faster.

It seems to trigger the machine as it starts beeping rapidly, in a second someone comes into the room and rushes to you.

"You're good. You're alright. You're in the hospital," she softly speaks even though you didn't ask her anything but look at her all confused as she checks on your vital signs on the machine.

"Breathe.... in and out..." she orders you and practices it with you.

Somehow you're following her, taking deep breaths in and out until your heart beats back at its steady pace.

"I'll call for your mother, okay?" She says.

As you are alone in the room and lay on your bed, you try to recollect how you ended up in a hospital but nothing comes to your mind.

But you woke up with your heart aching so much that when you touch your cheeks, they are wet with tears.

If you have been sleeping, you would think it's just a dream that you'll eventually forget about at one point in the day 

But if it's just a dream then why it feels like you'll not dream again? If it's just a dream then why you're not glad to be awake? If it's just a dream then why do you want to stay asleep forever?

-

Here's what happened.

One day, your mother came to your apartment and couldn't wake you up, sent you to the hospital where you stayed in a deep state of prolonged unconsciousness, fails to respond normally to painful stimuli, and cannot be awakened for four months.

The doctor can't find the scientific explanation for it, you got scanned this morning and there's nothing wrong with your body. The simple way to put it is that your brain shut down all of a sudden and puts you into a comatose.

You've been in a coma for 16 weeks and 3 days to be exact, missed the whole winter, and woke up to the warm spring sun.

Strangely, it didn't feel that long for you, it feels like you just woke up from a dreamless sleep.

"Do you remember anything before you went to sleep that night?" The doctor asks.

You force your brain to remember anything from that night, but can't seem to recall anything but you remember going to bed to sleep.

"I remember going to sleep that night and nothing else," your honest answer disappointed you as well. It frustrates you how much you want to remember but you just can't.

"Any details you remember?"

You try to remember again but it's like searching for something that you know isn't there, pointless.

"I heard the sound of the ticking clock and after that... nothing."

Your mother squeezes your hand on the bed, she has been like that from the moment you gained consciousness. She never left your side even for a second and clings to you like the role is reversed, she's the toddler and you're the mother.

"Ticking of the clock?" The doctor asks with wrinkles on his forehead.

"Yes."

Disappointment is drawn on his face as he couldn't get the answers that satisfy his curiosity. Well, sorry doctor, you're just as baffled by the whole situation.

He caps his pen back and hands the file to the nurse next to him, "we need another day for observation and if nothing goes wrong, you can go home the next day," the doctor informs.

Your mom sighs in relief and squeezes your hand so tight, "that's good, honey!" 

It confuses you so much because she's giving you the brightest smile, oozing with pride when you've done nothing but wake up from your extremely long nap.

"Any questions?" The doctor asks.

You shake your head at him, "No, for now," you answer.

"Remember if you feel something, nausea or headache, let us know," he reminds you.

"Sure thing, doctor!"

"Thank you, doctor!" Your mother says before he leaves the room.

It seems like your mom can finally relax after hearing that. She can't stop smiling, she keeps looking at you and brushing your hair.

"You can go, mom," you tell her, noticing that she hasn't changed her clothes since last night.

"I'll go home after your father arrives," she says while tucking the blanket to the side of your body like she always did when you were a child.

"At least go have something, I haven't seen you eating anything since this morning," you insist.

Your mom softly chuckles. She didn't expect that you know she hasn't eaten anything.

You get why she acted like that, she regretted not being there when you got out of comatose and ultimately, she must be scared that you'll never wake up again.

Imagine trying to wake your daughter from her sleep but she doesn't wake up. That must have been traumatizing for her.

After a moment, she finally caved in, "want anything from the vending machine?"

"Mom, have a proper meal, please?" You complain and the role is still reversed now that you found yourself scolding her.

She slowly lets go of your hand and gets up from the chair, "I'll be back in a few minutes," she says.

"Take as much time as you want," you said.

"I'll be waiting," you added with a smile, reassuring her that this time you'll wake up to her call.

She hesitates for a while but your glare works to send her away, taking her cardigan with her as she leaves the room.

The sound of the door sliding open wakes you up from your nap and your head turns to see who's coming.

It's exciting to see someone else other than your mother despite the possibility that things will be awkward since you haven't been social for four months.

The nurse sheepishly smiles as she drags a cart with her, "I'm here to change the IV," she announces.

Your excitement fades a little and you let the nurse do her thing while you look out at the nice weather outside from your bed.

Another person comes into the room and you look to the side to see a familiar face.

"Minho!" You shout a little too loud that the nurse got startled.

"I'm sorry," you meekly mutter to her.

Minho comes to the side of your bed while carrying a bouquet in hand, "hey," he greets you with a soft smile on his face.

"Please, sit down," you gesture to him to sit on the empty chair next to your bed.

"This is for you," he hands you the bouquet of beautiful pink tulips.

You take it with a smile and gently put it on your lap, "thank you!"

He sits down on the chair and looks at you, "you look much better," he said.

Does that mean he visited you before? But you don't want to presume and wildly guess.

"I feel good, yeah, never been better," you say, already feeling awkward that you can't hold a conversation for more than ten seconds.

You could have so many things to talk about if you didn't skip four months of your life.

"How are you? How's work? Tell me everything," You ask while admiring the flowers on your lap.

"I'm good. I got promoted and that required me to move to another city," he answers.

You turn your head at him, slightly surprised by the news, "and you agree to move to another city?"

He nods, "I'll be leaving at the end of this month."

You got sad because you do remember the heartbreak and the fight and the canceled wedding but you hold nothing against him. You were hoping that you get to rebuild your friendship with him and start over.

It seems like you both need more time and space for that.

"Well, that's a good thing that you got promoted," you said with a smile.

"Thank you," he sincerely thanked you.

"We should meet again before you leave," you say to him and hold the flowers close to your nose to smell the floral scent.

He agrees with a small nod and a smile.

You put the flowers down and hold out your hand at him.

Minho looks at it, then places his hand on yours.

"We'll always be friends, Minho," you earnestly say and let him know that you put everything that had happened in the past.

It seems like Minho has been waiting for you to say that and release him from the guilt of breaking the bonds of your friendship.

It's like he has been holding his breath and can finally let it out in a long sigh, he closes his eyes and holds your hand in his, "thank you."

Your mom returns a few minutes after Minho left with a cup of coffee in her hand.

"I met Minho in the hallway," your mother says and sips her coffee.

"Did he comes by a lot?" You ask out of pure curiosity.

Your mom thinks for a second and beams, "I think that's his third visit," she answers.

So he did visit you before when you were still in your deep slumber.

Your mom takes the flowers from Minho and places them next to flowers sent from other people. They're mostly from relatives but it still surprises you that a lot of people care about your well-being to the point that they send you flowers.

"How do I get so many flowers?" You ask.

"That means you're loved, honey," your mom simply answers.

You wouldn't be that sure but it does feel nice to receive flowers.

There's a bouquet of red roses that catches your attention and you wonder who sent it.

"I don't remember receiving this," your mom says just as confused as you are.

"Can I take a look?"

Your mom hands you the roses and you inspect them to find any card or letter attached to them or anything that tells the identity of the sender.

"Nothing," you say with a disappointed pout.

The choice of flowers is what intrigued you because this is a hospital and you send red roses for lovers. For as long as you can remember, you don't have any flings or boyfriends, your love life is pretty much staying in a coma.

"Could it be that someone sends it to the wrong room?" Your mom asks.

You shrug and bring the flowers close to your nose, the distinctive smell of roses fills your nostrils. You smell it again with your eyes closed and something flashes by in your head.

You close your eyes again and try to retrieve what has just flashed by. A memory so distant you don't know if it's real or you made it up in your head, of a red rose and sunset, white sheet and rainy day, of thunder and warm skin, red locks slipping between your fingers and eyes that gleam in the dark, a sinister smile and then a whisper in your ear.

"Come here!"

-

It's not easy to act normal when you slipped away from civilization for four months.

But it's nice to come home and be in a space that you're greatly familiar with, sleep in your bed and drink from your favorite mug.

On the first night back in your apartment, you let your mom stay over with you because you learned that there's no way to put her mind at ease than giving her what he wanted.

There's a stack of letters on your kitchen counter and you definitely don't want to go into that yet.

"You got a call for you," your mom informs as she goes through the notes she has written on the sticky notes on the fridge.

"From who?"

"From the newspaper," she answers.

"Huh?"

"You don't remember?"

You do remember applying for a job but didn't know that they responded to it, "I do remember but I didn't know that they—" but your hope deflated knowing that you must have missed the chance.

"I missed the interview, didn't I?" You ask with your shoulders slumped.

Your mom smiles and hands you the sticky note, "I told them about your condition and they wanted you to contact them if you're still up for the interview," she explains.

"Are you serious?" You ask in disbelief.

She eagerly nods and holds you by the shoulder, "it sounds like they wanted to hire you so much that they are willing to wait for you," she convinces you.

It's a lot to process and you're having a hard time believing it, "Oh my God, I have to prepare myself for the interview," you suddenly got panic knowing that you have a lot to prepare.

Your mom squeezes your shoulder, "hey, you're still in recovery. Take it slow, okay? No need to rush it," she reminds you.

You agree with her, your priority, for now, is to fully recover and once you settled, you can finally live the life you desired.

It's only the beginning but you already feel excited about what awaits you in the future. It's like you've been given another chance at life, a clean slate.

The only appropriate response to a gift is gratefulness and you promise to never take things for granted ever again.

Your mom is fast asleep when you get on the bed next to her, she must be tired from spending the last few months sleeping in the hospital.

You find yourself wide awake and you reckon this comes from the fear of never waking up again, you plan on telling your mother about this issue first thing in the morning. It's time for you to stop keeping things from your mom anymore, you promised yourself that. 

But for now, you try to make yourself tired by finding something to read but what you found in your drawer is a necklace, a gold chain with a locket.

You open the locket to find a little clock with the glass cracked like someone has stepped on it and you figure that this is why you kept hearing the ticking sound, it must be coming from this locket.

You can't confirm that since the clock is dead, probably running out of battery but you keep it close to your chest, closing your eyes, and see if you can remember anything about it.

But instead of the ticking sound, you hear another whisper in your ear.

"Shh... just sleep!"

And just like that, you fall asleep.

-

It takes you a month to finally adjust yourself to a normal life and it consists of participating in what life offers you.

It took your mom a week to finally let you alone and sleep by yourself without calling every hour.

You go to therapy every Thursday afternoon to talk about your trauma of sleeping and you still can't sleep at night but you try not to pressure yourself, you know the process takes time.

When you believed you are prepared enough, you went to the job interview with confidence and left with a proud smile on your face, not worrying much about whether they will hire you or not.

As long as you've done your best, then there's no room left for regrets.

The next day, you got a call that you got hired and you can start working the next week. You can't be more grateful for it.

This Friday, you got invited for drinks with Kim. It's not a wise choice to start drinking again but it's not about if you can resist alcohol but how persistent Kim would be to make you drink.

You put on a dress and put on a little make-up, don't want to overdo it but at the same time, you want to look impressive, it's your first time going out after being out of comatose.

While waiting for the elevator to arrive you contemplate whether to tie your hair or let it down.

When the elevator finally arrives, the doors slide open and you step inside. Someone is getting in after you and you guess he must be your neighbor so when you eventually look at each other, you politely smile at him.

Kim waves her hand up in the air to let you know where she is.

The two of you hugged and exchanged a kiss on the cheek, she hasn't gotten a chance to see you after you got discharged from the hospital so it feels like a reunion.

"You look so pretty, babe!" Kim compliments you while calling for the bartender.

"And you're prettier than I remember," you playfully compliment her back.

She cackles and helps you sit on the stool next to her, "how are you doing?"

"I'm doing good, yeah..." you hesitate a little but can't help to share the good news either, "I got the call from the newspaper earlier," you say with a sheepish smile.

Kim raises her eyebrow, intrigued. She leans in close to you with wide eyes, "and...?"

"I got the job," you announce.

"Oh, my God!" Kim pulls you into a hug and squeezes your arms in excitement.

"I'm so happy for you. I really do!" She earnestly says with a wide grin on her face.

It warms your heart that she is just as happy as you about the news, "and what about you? How are you doing? Any exciting news?" You ask with a giggle and turn the attention back at her.

She fixes her hair and folds her hands on the counter, turning her head at you, ready to spill whatever information she stored in that little head of hers.

"Let's catch up on my love life, yeah?" She fixes her sitting and leans in closer.

"About two months ago, I broke up with my boyfriend," she begins.

"Oh no," you coo.

"I know right? We fought because I told him I'm getting to be just his girlfriend. I thought we're ready for what's next and it's my right to know if we're having the same thing in mind, you know," She sighs and subtly rolls her eyes, annoyed.

"So we argued and he moved out, and didn't come back for days. I gave him time and had a breakdown a few times because I missed him so much."

You intently listen to her story, emotionally invested in it since it's involved someone you cared about.

"Then a few days ago, he came to the apartment and I thought he was there just to pick up his things," she cracks a smile and you guess the story takes a positive turn.

"We had a long talk, heart to heart, I sobbed because I'm not good at talking about how I feel and..." she pauses to sigh again.

"And...?" Your eyebrows raised in curiosity.

She smiles again and put her hand on her temple, "he proposed to me."

It's obvious that you didn't expect to hear this and it's taking you a few seconds to respond to the big news, "what?" You ask in disbelief, a bit too loud that the people around you can hear it.

She shows the ring on her finger, the little diamond catching the light and reflecting it at you. Kim giggles as she holds out her hand at you.

"Aww, Kim!" You coo again, holding her hand while admiring the ring on her finger.

"I'm so happy for you," you say with a big smile on your face.

She smiles back at you, putting her hand on top of yours forming a stack of hands on the counter.

You know you truly care for someone when their happiness becomes your happiness and you couldn't be happier for her.

"And I'm happy that you're back, I do," she says, her voice breaking at the end of the sentence.

"Because I don't know who I'm going to ask to be my bridesmaid but you," she adds.

That reminds you of how much she cherished you and what a good friend she is, you got touched that you hug her for quite a while.

"Let me see that ring again!" You say as you pulled away from the hug.

She enthusiastically shows it again for you, "the diamond is a bit disappointing, eh?"

You chuckle at her and decide to skip answering that.

"Don't worry, he's got something big somewhere else," she adds.

You both burst out laughing, couldn't care less if anyone got bothered by how loud you are.

Oh, how you missed this!

"The birthday girl is going to be a bride, I see?" Someone says.

You turn your head to see the bartender, a sweet smile and freckles, the one face that you can't forget. The one that you let got away from you.

"You remember him, right?" Kim asks you.

You already locked gaze with him even before you can recall his name, "it's the cute bartender," you say, just to tease him.

When you think his smile couldn't get any brighter, he proves you wrong. His smile grows wider and brighter, it's so cute that you almost melt.

He's the first one to look away, flustered. He turns to Kim and asks, "one negroni and one raspberry martini?"

Kim glances at you to confirm he got your order right and you nod.

"Coming right up!" He says and starts making the mix of drinks.

Kim turns at you and leans into your side, "you can choose to not answer it but you said you don't remember much about the last few days before you know..." her words trailed off, probably afraid that the question might be uncomfortable to you.

"That's okay, Kim," you convince her that it's more than okay to ask you about it. It's an unpleasant experience but it doesn't bother you that much.

"How much do you remember?" She asks, genuinely wanting to know.

You prop a hand under your chin and think hard for a while, "I don't know how to explain it but my memories are incomplete..."

You think of an analogy to create a simple explanation, "like I know the whole puzzle looks like but at the same time, I know there's still a few missing pieces," you finish.

Kim pursed her lips and tries to process your explanation, after a while, she lets out an inaudible sigh.

"As long as you remember we had fun on my birthday then we're good," she says with a wink.

"Of course, I remember that. But mostly the part where I had to drag you home," you joked while resting your head on her shoulder.

"In my defense, I was the birthday girl, I deserved that!" She defended herself and puts her head against yours.

The drinks come at the right time, "negroni for the bride girl," he says while putting Kim's drink in front of her.

"Raspberry martini for the 'I hope she's single' girl?" He says with a grin.

You nod and mutter, "thanks!"

Felix stays there and watches you taking a sip of the cocktail he made, hands on the counter, and veiny arms on display.

You suddenly got thirsty and a glass of drink happens to be right there in front of you.

"How is it?" He asks you once you've taken a sip of your drink.

You tug the little straw between your teeth and seductively smile, "cute," you reply.

He shyly smiles because he knows you're not answering his question and definitely not talking about the drink.

He leans forward on the counter and looks at you with one hand behind his neck, "You know there's a different name to this drink?" 

The freckles look fainter than you remember but he's cute nonetheless.

"No," you honestly answer.

"It's called the love potion," he says with a sly smile and a whole lot of attractiveness.

"Love potion, huh?" You look down at your drink, stirring the ruby red drink with your straw and you got a flash of memory.

You remember the same drink but it tasted different, of a white dress and cold night, of you getting off the ledge and an empty bar.

Then there's the whisper in your ear.

"Sell your soul to me."

It feels so real that your head snaps to the side just to see there's no one there. You swear you feel like someone is right there, their head is right next to your ear, and whisper to it.

"Something wrong?" Felix asks.

He must have noticed you acted strange a while ago. You quickly put on a smile and sip your drink, "nothing," you lied.

He scratches the back of his head, making it obvious that he's going to ask you something, "so, are you single now?"

You smile at him, watching how he gets so shy that he can't hold eye contact with you for more than five seconds.

"I've been single for a long time," you answer.

You're aware of how pathetic and hopeless that sounded but who cares?

He pokes his inner cheek with his tongue, "so you lied that day."

One thing that you hate the most is being accused of lying, you may have overreacted and shot him a glare, "lied? When?"

That may shock him a little that his smile fades, "the last time we met you said you have someone waiting at home," he explains.

"I said that?"

He nods, "I reckon that you're dating someone at that time so I..." he stops himself from explaining further.

"Someone at home?" You force your brain to delve deeper into your memory bank and try to retrieve this exact moment when you said that to him.

As far as you remember, you didn't date anyone. The only man you fancied is Minho and that ended miserably then you fell into a coma which cleared the allegations that you dated someone at that time.

"I'll be back," Felix says, getting back to work and taking orders from new customers.

You turn to Kim and ask, "Did I perhaps mention anyone in our conversation?"

Kim puts down her drink and blinks her eyes a few times, "Minho?"

"Other than him?"

"I'm pretty sure there's no one else," she answers.

It got you thinking who is this someone you talked about and who waited for you at home?

"We rarely talk about boys but you did ask me a lot of things about my life on the day you went into a coma," she says, "it's like you knew you were going to—"

Kim clears her throat and sips her drink again.

One thing that you learned after you woke up from your come is that you aren't the only one traumatized by this, your parents and Kim are the proof of it.

You're lucky to find people that cherished you and you promise to cherish them back. You link your arm with Kim's and sip your drink.

"I'll pay for our drinks tonight," you say.

"Cool because I'm thinking of getting drunk tonight," Kim goes into a fit of laughter.

"No, please, don't!" You tease back but also laugh along with her.

Who knew that two lonely people make a great pair?

-

In spring, flowers aren't the only thing that bloom.

In what feels like a second life given to you, your hopes and dreams bloom with the season.

Every day you wake up to a beautiful sunny day with the warm breeze blowing through the window, carrying the heavenly smell of flowers and earth.

And on each day, you make sure to take a moment to be grateful for this given life and everything else that it gifted you with.

A loving parent, a kind friend, and a good friend who lives far away from you but close to your heart, then there's a job that you love.

Ultimately, thankful that you wake up from your sleep and get to live another day.

But somehow, you still feel like there's still a hole in your chest and no matter how much air you take, you stay breathless. You feel full but not whole.

Something is missing and you don't know what it is.

Or is it just the usual human greed of keep wanting more of everything?

You decide to take a day out by yourself and enjoy the lovely spring day, had lunch then bought an ice cream on your way to the park.

You take a stroll under the row of cherry blossom trees with their petals swirling around in the air, creating a romantic and melancholic scene.

That explains the number of couples you've seen, walking hand in hand and taking each other's pictures. You're not going to lie that you get a little jealous.

For a second, you thought that what's missing from your life, a boyfriend.

A moment later, you scoff at the thought and continue walking with your head looking up at the tree branches, soaking in the warmth of the sun shining through the leaves.

"It's such a beautiful day," you sigh in delight.

It's like you've just cast the spell on the sky that it suddenly turns grey and the dark clouds looming above you. You doubt that it's going to rain or that's what the weather forecast said. After a few steps though, the raindrops start hitting the ground and everyone scatters around to get away from the rain.

"Of course!" You huff, annoyed.

You stop by the front of a cafe just a few blocks from your apartment building, with the hem of your dress and shoes wet from stepping into puddles of water.

It's better if you stay and wait for the rain to stop before taking a walk home.

You watch the rain while standing there and catch the smell of flowers, turning on your heels, you see the flower shop next to the cafe.

The buckets of flowers are on display, blooming so beautifully with their vibrant colors pleasing your eyes. Your eyes pause to look at the bucket of red roses.

The red reminds you of the color of your drink, the love potion and the pomegranates your mom puts in your fridge, of your favorite scarf and shade of lipstick.

The red reminds you of... someone's hair slipping between your fingers and of lips kissing your skin.

The red reminds you of...

"I like your red hair."

"And I like you."

Where's that coming from? You ask yourself. No one is there whispering things to you and you don't remember having this conversation with someone.

It's getting confusing because you can't tell which is real or not anymore. You got so frustrated when you look at the roses again.

They're beautiful but the red holds so much mystery.

-

The rain only got heavier so you decided to run to the nearest convenience store to buy an umbrella and start walking home.

You wait for the elevator to arrive and take you upstairs, you grip your umbrella in one hand and your wet cardigan in the other.

When the elevator slides open, there's already someone in it. You look up to see that it's your neighbor, weirdly enough, the one you always share an elevator with.

He's always in his black outfits and standing in the far corner of the elevator, hands in his jacket pockets, and his long hair curtained his face.

You push the button for your floor and lean against the cold steel wall of the elevator.

You catch him looking at the puddle of water on the floor from the drops of water dripping from the end of your umbrella.

"The forecast said it's going to be a beautiful sunny day," you say to him, trying to shift his attention elsewhere.

He looks up at you with no expression on his small face.

"No one was ready for the rain," you add with an awkward laugh.

Since he's not responding to your small talk, you turn away from him and face the elevator door. You uneasily look at his reflection on the shiny surface of the elevator door.

"And they say life is beautiful," he softly says.

Something just slides into place and you froze there, memories flooding into your head all at once like someone plays a movie at double speed and you have a hard time catching up to it.

When the elevator dings open, you see the doors slide open and you slowly step out of it.

He follows you from behind, getting out of the elevator, except that he's going the other way.

You take a left turn while he takes the right turn and both of you start walking further away from each other.

You swallow air and stop in your track, turning around to see him walking away from you.

"Did you make anyone cry today?" You ask him and your voice echoes in the hallway.

He abruptly stops walking and stands there for a second. You hold your breath the whole time he's standing there and when he finally turns around, you feel faint.

Despite the distance, you can feel his eyes on you and you recognize that soul-gazing eyes, how it stares right into your soul.

"No," he then looks at the pocket watch he keeps in the inner pocket of his jacket and says, "but it's only 5.30."

You smile at him with tears rolling down your cheeks and watch him walking towards you, no one but you.

The moment your lips touched, you know you have found your missing piece. It never feels this good to finally breathe and not worry about the hole in your chest.

He kisses you as if he was breathing and you wish you can hold your breath longer to kiss him more.

He presses his forehead against yours and lets out a low sigh of relief.

"I set you free from pain and removed all of your memories of me," he says with his hands holding your face close to him.

"How do you remember me?" His warm breath brushed your cheek as he speaks.

"Because my heart still remembers you," you answer.

He pecks your lips again for a long time then let go with a gasp, softly laughing with his eyes closed, "good girl!"

He takes your hand and intertwined it with his, slipping his fingers between yours, making your life officially complete.

-

This warm skin, these fingers, and hands, his silky hair and plush, red lips, his breathless voice and whisper in your ear.

All of these things make a missing piece in your life and that piece is back in its place, right next to you.

The devil in the flesh, the prince of hell, the one who saved your life.

"Hyunjin..."

He was busy kissing your neck when you softly call his name and he drags his plump lips to your jaw, planting a kiss on your lips to finally answer your call.

"Yes, beautiful?"

You hold his face in your hands and take a look at him, touching his beautiful features of gorgeous eyes and a beautiful nose, rosy cheeks, and plump lips, touching them to confirm that he's real.

"I miss you," you say and your heart hurts from letting those words out.

He softly gazes into your eyes and caresses your cheek with his knuckle, "I miss you too."

His whole weight on top of you should be enough to convince you that he's real and the two of you are making out on your bed.

"I thought you were taking me to hell," your hands are holding the back of his head, tangled in his hair.

He plants a kiss on your shoulder and begins making a long trail of kisses from there to your lips. He gasps when he pulls away.

"Well, this is your hell," he says.

You tip your head to the side, "huh?"

"Your hell is living a cursed life with me," he answers then places a sloppy kiss on your lips.

He looks at you and probably wonders why you got quiet, "or you don't want it?"

You close your eyes and try so hard to verbalize your thought but words can't do justice to what you're trying to tell him.

You put your hands around his neck and hold him close, feeling his warm body resting against yours, his heart lies close to yours, beating at once.

"I really thought I'd never see you again," you cry again from how glad you are to be able to meet him again, cursed or not, you feel alive when you're with him.

Hyunjin buries his head deep in your neck and breath you in, "for a second I thought you're going to be mad at me," he says.

You start sobbing uncontrollably, you didn't know you'd been holding so many emotions but maybe it's all coming from the feelings of your life finally becoming whole.

"You're that happy to see me again?" He asks while chuckling and wiping your tears at once.

You nod.

"You're that happy to live a cursed life?"

You nod again and pull him close, "as long as I'm with you," you croaked.

The thunderous rain is no match to the sounds you make as Hyunjin makes love to you.

It's like your bodies are just as ecstatic to meet again they become one, filling each other's needs and satisfying each other's cravings.

He thrusts into you, slow and deep all the while his eyes looking into yours. Somehow it feels like he's making love not only to your body but also to your soul.

When it feels overwhelming, you pull his face by his chin and kiss him.

He knows your body too well, he knows what gets you going, what pleases you the most, how to make you writhe and make you a moaning mess under him.

When he makes you cum, he convinces you once again that he still holds the highest rate of making you cum, 13/10.

Sex with him will never be a disappointment but the sex you just had feels different, it was exceptionally nice, and it makes you feel vulnerable and powerful, held and set free, to love and be loved, all at once.

With all these emotions flooding inside you, you might as well let them burst out of you.

"I love you so much," you blurt out but you don't regret it at all.

It's bound to be out anyway and this cursed life taught you nothing but to bet every part of you for someone you love.

Hyunjin tenderly kisses you before answering, "I love you too."

And if Hyunjin says this is your hell then you want to stay there, burning in your passionate love for him, forever. 

-

People have their own concept of heaven.

Yours though would be the one that draws a big difference from other people's.

Your heaven has a devil who welcomes you with a soft yet fiery kiss that wakes you up from your sleep.

You giggle when he nibbles on your ear, "morning," you sleepily greet him.

He kisses your temple, "I think it's way past morning."

You force your eyes open and see the sun shining so brightly outside your window.

"You sleep so tight," he says, hovering above you with his face merely inches away from yours.

You loop your hands around his neck, "am I?"

"Did you have a nice dream?" He asks while removing the strands of hair from covering your face.

A dream can't be better than your heaven so you shake your head, "I haven't slept that well in a long time," you say.

"Afraid that you'll never wake up again?"

You shake your head again as he unlocked a new fear in you, "afraid that I'll never see you again," you say.

He softly smiles with eyes closed and gently kisses you, with your naked body under cover he doesn't waste any second but allows himself to touch you all over.

Your heaven is having his head between your legs and his slick, hot tongue on your heating core.

Even after you cum against his greedy mouth that doesn't stop him from dragging his sinful lips all over you, planting kisses, and wetting your skin with his saliva, making you squirm from the stimulation.

He only pauses his exploration to caress your cheek with such loving and a long kiss on the lips.

Then he continues by putting his mouth on your ribcage and sucks hard on the skin, it stings but is still bearable.

Next, he places his lips on your breast, sticking his tongue out to tease your nipple, wetting it and sucking on it.

Then when you're high in pleasure, he plants a bite on your breast.

You yelp in pain and grab him by his hair out of reflex, "oh fu—" you stop yourself from cursing.

Hyunjin quickly rubs over the mark with his hand while smirking at you.

It seems like he's going to make another one and look for the perfect spot for it. His hand slides down your side and then stops on your thigh.

You have an inkling that his next target is somewhere in that area, and although you know what he'll do, you spread your legs open as he lowers his mouth on your inner thigh, permitting him to go ahead with his plan.

He kisses the skin before making a mark there with his teeth.

You grip the sheet as he keeps on sucking the skin and gives it a lick after, you can see the bruise slowly blossoming on your skin.

"I just can't say no to you, mmh?" You mumble but don't sound like a complaint to him.

He kisses the mark after and put his body between your legs with his head resting on your chest.

"Your soul is mine, remember?"

You slip your hands in his silky dark locks, "but not my body."

"That's the point," he takes your hand and kisses your wrist, "I have to let everyone know that you're mine."

He places his lips right there on your sternum and stays like that with his eyes closed.

"All mine," he murmurs as if he's talking to your heart.

"Body and soul," you add with a smile on your face.

He opens his eyes and finds yours immediately, he crawls over to plant a kiss on your lips, tenderly but intensely with a hand on your jaw.

"What happened to the red hair?" You ask with a fistful of his dark hair in your hand.

"You don't like the black hair?"

You softly chuckle and brush his hair to the back, "were you trying to be incognito?"

"Well, it worked because you didn't recognize me until yesterday," he answers.

"I started to wonder why we always met in the elevator, you know. I thought you were my neighbor," you explain while laughing, feeling stupid to ever thought that way.

"Well, I have to keep my eyes on my asset," he coyly says with a sly grin.

He collapses on top of you, capturing your lips in a long, breathtaking kiss, a kiss that takes everything further, a kiss that makes you warm inside and outside.

His body is enough to make you salivate but why only look when you can have a taste of it, a bite of it, and eat it too?

It's amazing that you still know how to get around him, where he likes you to touch him and makes him whimper under you.

You ease yourself down his length and breathlessly moan at how good it feels, how he perfectly fills you whole.

Hyunjin is a walking temptation yet he's your only indulgence.

He roams around your body as you straddle him, spreading his warmth with the gentlest touch of his hands.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters to you in his soft, breathless voice.

"Come here!" He orders, pulling you by the neck and bringing your face close to him.

He opens his mouth and takes your lips in his, hungrily and passionately, as if your kiss feeds and quenches his thirst, as if your kiss brought him life.

You smile when you break the kiss and place your hands flat on his chest, continuing to roll your hips in circular motions.

Low grunts escaped his slightly parted mouth with his hands gripping each side of your waist.

"Good, huh?" You lowly ask.

He delightfully sighs and looks you in the eyes, "like the sweetest sin," he answers.

This is your heaven and your heaven is his body against the white sheet and his smile in between kisses, his soft voice that calls your name, and how sweetly he praises you.

Your heaven is having him on the bed and having him every day for the rest of your life.

And your heaven makes you sin first thing in the morning.

-

A day in your life goes like this.

Even before you can open your eyes, you wake up feeling needy for his touch and he would be there, lying beside you ready to provide you with everything you seek.

You kiss him on the lips and greet him, "morning!"

"Morning, my sweet little sin," he greets back.

Morning sex is always a good idea yet optional. But cuddles are a must.

Just two naked bodies tangled on the bed, indulging in each other's embrace, hands all over with mouths locked in a rapturous kiss.

Breakfast, shower then get dressed for work with Hyunjin trying to sneak a few kisses in between.

You kiss him before leaving the apartment and give him a warning, each day varies from the other.

"Please, don't cause any traffic today!"

"Not with the elevator out of service again!"

"Don't break the copy machine, please?"

Hyunjin sometimes obeys but most of the time, no. The one warning he never obeys is following you around.

He's there when you're stuck on a bus full of people or run with you when you catch your bus, in a meeting, or in the copy room, nowhere is off-limits to him.

He appears and disappears, here and there, anywhere, anytime.

Hyunjin does whatever he pleases.

"This desk has the perfect height," he whispers into your ear.

You roll your eyes knowing that it's him right behind you and his arms caging your body in between.

You were sorting pages of articles on your desk, "remember what I told you?"

"That you miss me at work?" He playfully guesses.

You shake your head and ignore him, putting all of your focus on the task at hand.

Hyunjin brings his mouth close to yours, "Come on, just a quickie," he whispers.

You scoff, "it's never just a quickie with you," you say.

"Like you ever mind," he whispers into your other ear.

You scoff again and put down all of the pages, turning around to face him, "can you stop with the devil's whisper?"

His red hair is flashy against the dull colors of your office interior and background. Truthfully, he's the only thing that makes your day brighter entirely.

"How about a kiss?" he sweet talks with his hands around your waist, pulling you close.

You take a moment to consider it because it's never just a kiss with him, it's never just that, he will want more and you can't say no to him.

He tips his head to the side and smiles at you, "just one kiss?" He sweetly asks.

You put your hands on his arms and feel his biceps contract against the fabric of his dark shirt. He's so irresistible, just one look at his face and you found yourself nodding to him.

The kiss is electrifying already but the thrill that comes from the spontaneity of it and the slight fear of anyone can walk in on you making out with him in your office.

Before you get intoxicated, you quickly pull away from his kiss and sigh, "one kiss and you got it," you say.

With his hands cupping your face, he can easily hold you still and kisses you again.

You whine against his lips but not breaking the kiss.

"At least give me more tongue," he says against your lips.

It's like he has programmed your brain to always submit to his wishes, you open your mouth and stick your tongue a little, letting him twirl it with his.

He deepens the kiss while hoisting your body, sitting you on the edge of the desk.

You immediately let go of the kiss and gently push him away, "that's two kisses already," you remind him.

You reach for his face to clean the lipstick smeared around his lips with your thumb.

"Does it look good on me?" He asks with a lopsided grin.

"Oh, yeah," you playfully answer and remove the lipstick on the corner of his mouth.

"Put it more on me then," he seduces you for more kisses and he's just good at that, tempting you.

You look away before his hypnotizing eyes trapped you in his spell and hold his hands on your lap, "I'll see you later, okay?"

His face drops onto your neck and groans with his mouth on your shoulder.

You hold him close and brush his hair with your finger, "I'll see you at home," you assure him.

He heavily sighs and then kisses your neck before letting you go.

You get off the desk and give him a long hug, "be good."

"Don't have lunch at the cafeteria today," he says as he finally lets you go.

"Huh? Why?"

"It's just veggies and tofu, you wouldn't like it," he says with a cute nose scrunch, which is opposite to his evil doing.

You get suspicious that it's all his doing, "It's you isn't it?"

He pouts and shrugs with one hand lingering on the doorknob.

You glare at him but he only winks in response before leaving the room through the door.

Little did he knows it takes so much in you not to cave into him, you need to take a minute off and fan yourself with paper, calming yourself down.

When it's lunchtime, a co-worker comes knocking on your office.

"Let's have lunch!" She says with a smile.

You swivel your chair to face her, "what is today's menu?"

"It's tonkatsu so we have to hurry," she answers.

You let out a sigh knowing that Hyunjin lied about his warning, "that flaming hot Cheetos," you mutter under your breath.

"What's that?" Your co-worker asks.

"Nothing," you lied.

"I'll be waiting by the elevator," she says.

There's already a long line of people queuing for lunch and you check on some emails while waiting for your turn when someone grabs your elbow.

You turn around to see who it is and gasp in surprise, "Minho?"

A smile rises on his face and you both share a quick hug.

Now you get why Hyunjin tells you to have lunch somewhere else. It's definitely not about the food.

"What are you doing here?" You ask while still surprised to see him there.

"I just came down from a meeting," he replies and holds his briefcase in the other hand.

"Did you—" you pause to move along with the queue then continue, "you got transferred back or what?"

"No, I'm only staying for a week," he answers.

It's ridiculous that you didn't know how much you miss him until you see him again. You link your arm with him and force him to join the queue line, "come on, I treat you to lunch today," you say.

The talk continues during lunch, catching up on each other's life but mostly his life in the new city he's living in.

He buys coffee for both of you after and talks outside by the rooftop of the building where employees come to smoke or just hang out.

"Isn't this the one dream job you had since college?" Minho asks as he sips his coffee.

"Yeah, I wasn't confident they would hire me but..." you shrug and you're just as baffled because you wrote the resume after taking shots of tequila.

You foolishly grin when you remembered that night.

Minho grins along with you, "what? Tell me?"

You laugh because it may sound so silly to him, but you decide to not tell him and then shake your head.

"I'm just so happy we've been so supportive toward each other," you earnestly say with a smile.

Minho puts his arm around you and together you stare out at the view of the city on a beautiful spring day. Back then, you would have overthought every little thing Minho did to you but now, you don't even think about anything at all.

You feel comfortable and safe around him because you know you have a friend who has your back.

You rest your head on his shoulder and sigh, "look how far we've come, Minho."

-

The sky takes a dark turn in the evening as it begins to rain when you get off the bus.

You have an inkling it's someone's doing, someone with red hair and mischief in his eyes, someone who's standing a few steps from you holding an umbrella.

"Can you stop ruining spring for everyone's sake?" You grumble as you approach him.

"It's not my doing," he denies then opens the umbrella for both of you.

It's never a straight game with him, he makes you guess every move he makes. You huddle close to him as you walk together under the umbrella with his arm on your shoulder.

There's a sudden loud crack of thunder that you grip Hyunjin's arm in response.

"Oh, how romantic!" You sneer.

He pulls you closer to his side, "you're walking with the devil but afraid of a little thunder," he sneers back with a half-smirk.

You roll your eyes at him and hold onto his arm, "you knew Minho was in the building, huh?"

Hyunjin got quiet and by human standards, he knows how to keep it cool.

"Are you jealous that we had a little chat?"

He looks unbothered but drops his hand to meet yours and clasped it with his.

But by the devil's standards, he's bad at hiding his jealousy.

You lift your clasped hands and kiss the back of his hand, "did you make anyone cry today?"

He returns the favor with a kiss on your cheek, "No," he answers.

He looks at you with a sly smile on his face, "But I'll make someone cry tonight," he adds with one of his eyebrows raises, hinting that the object he talked about is you.

Well, that's one way to arouse you, subtle but effective.

"That wouldn't be the first time," you say with a seductive smile and the recollections of how he fucked you so hard that you cried playing in the back of your head.

That only arouses you more, got you thinking of his body and his lips and his kisses and his...

You stop walking and he has no option but to also stop on his track.

Gosh, he's so beautiful and hot, literally and figuratively and the best thing is he's yours.

You grab the front of his shirt and pull him close, kissing him so hard that he has a hard time catching up to it.

"You should have told me earlier and I would have come running," you say as you pull away from the kiss.

He scrunches his nose and thinks for a while, "we should start running then," he says.

It's a crazy idea but it seems like you'll never know how to say no to him and you'll never want to learn how.

You take the umbrella from him and ditch it, pulling him by his hand to start running through the heavy rain.

The locket around your neck bounces along with every step you take and you can hear the ticking sound of the clock, of the needles moving forward, counting down to forever with Hyunjin.

Tick, tick, tick...

-

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taglist: @abiaswreck @septicrebel @cursed-mars-bars @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @a-katsukitty @tangylemonade @bluenights1899 @thisisnotstraight88 @raspbinniecreme @elizalabs3 @avyskai @lachinitaaaaa @is2cb97 @simeonswhore @marvelous-llama

[randomfoggytiger]

Curated: Baroness Blixen's Car Conversations

I know for a fact these aren't all her car convo fics-- but one can only do one's best~.

@baronessblixen‘s (Ao3) 

Bruises (Tumblr)

“I can’t go any faster,” he replies absent-mindedly, his fingers still drumming without rhythm.

“That’s not what I was - are you all right, Mulder?”

“Yeah,” he answers too quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be? Are- are you? Are you all right, Scully?” This is the first time he’s glancing over at her. His eyes, like everything else about him, are restless. They land on her wrists, linger for a second too long to be an accident.

Post One Breath Mulder is paranoid over bruises on Scully's wrists.

39 - scully

"What about the others?" Up until now, she's forgotten about the search party that she and Mulder are a part of. So often it's just the two of them; it's easy to forget that there are other people.

"I don't care about them," he says matter-of-factly.

Scully twists her ankle in a forest; and Mulder insists on carrying her back to the car.

#20 MSR for the angst prompt thing :)/Prompts & Drabbles - Chapter 22

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Staying with your mom sounds wonderful. She can make you that soup again. What was it?” Steadying her, he gently leads her out of the office. He knows she’s going to fall asleep as soon as he puts her in the car.  

“Carrot soup.” Her voice sounds almost dreamy, the corners of her mouth lifting into a weak smile.

Cancer arc Mulder pressures Scully to let him take care of her.

Let's Talk About This (Not) Part II (Tumblr) and Let’s Talk About This (Not) Part III

Post Small Potatoes Mulder and Scully finally have a conversation about their feelings (and more) on the way back from prison.

Demons

“I’m a medical doctor,” Scully says to the police officer in charge, “I’ll take care of him.” Mulder lets himself be maneuvered by her. As Scully gently tips his head to help him into the car, she feels her own head start to throb. She hasn’t had time to think of herself in hours. She hasn’t been drinking enough water and she can’t remember when she last ate. They will need to figure something out. First she’ll need to make sure Mulder is safe, though, away from here, and his demons. Looking at him through the car window, his glance empty, she knows she can’t save him. Not from that.

Post Demons Scully's reflections.

21 for the date fic prompts. Please! :)

"It’s a good movie – a classic," Mulder goes on when she remains quiet, “We’ve been on the road quite a lot these last few weeks despite our current assignment,” he almost spits the last word, “and I thought we could take a break. I know you wanted to get out of the car,” he chuckles, turning his face towards the huge screen, “but maybe being in the car like this, maybe…” Mulder clears his throat and regards her; his expression is hard to read in the semi-darkness now, “It’s as close to a normal life as I can muster right now, Scully. Sothis,” he gestures vaguely, “can be whatever you want it to be.”

Post Dreamland II Mulder takes Scully to a drive-in movie theater.

Fictober 2020 - Chapter 27 (Tumblr)

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” She looks up briefly and adjusts her glasses. He likes when she wears them.

“That noise.” He’s grinning but Scully is unfazed, her nose buried in the file.

Dating-- Scully lets off a stink bomb, and Mulder evens the playing field.

This is a momentous moment: my oldest prompt!

Impatient (Ao3)

"Scully?" His voice gets louder, sounds impatient.  

"I'm here." She mumbles into her pillow before she turns her head to look at the time: 4.42 am. Oh, Mulder, why.

Post Millennium Mulder, driven by urgency, pops up at Scully's apartment... despite her strict orders to the contrary.

Mulder Breaks The Rules (Tumblr)

“I can’t do it. They say it might be two weeks, or a month – maybe more. Knowing our luck, Scully, this quarantine is going to be a whole year. I couldn’t – I can’t – take that chance.”

“What chance?” She parrots.

“That this,” he gestures wildly between them, “ends before it even had a chance to start...." 

AU-- Post Millennium Mulder breaks quarantine to drive over to Scully.

A Reassuring Touch (Tumblr)

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Scully.”

“Mulder, you don’t have to-”

“I want to, Scully. I want to be there.” He listens to her breathe once more, as if to reassure himself that she, too, is real, and then he hangs up.

Post Three Words Scully calls in the early hours of the morning, afraid that it had all been a dream.

"Look at me- just breath, okay"

“Mulder.” Scully sounds of out of breath as she looks at him. There’s a soft sheen of sweat on her forehead that he wants to touch. She swats his hand away. “We need to go, now.”

Right. Even though she’s in labor, even though she’s waddling, Scully is in charge.

AU-- Essence Scully is having her baby right. now. And Mulder is trying to figure out how to navigate the situation with he, his partner, Doggett, and Reyes all crammed in one car.

With You By My Side - Chapter 1 (Tumblr)

“Hm,” Mulder grinned in relief, feeling Scully’s eyes on him, “This is kinda like before, isn’t it? Us driving through the night to some place in the middle of nowhere?” Scully stared down at the piece of paper, a scribbled note, and wondered when she’d next see Agent Doggett. If there was going to be a next time. Would it ever stop?

“Georgia,” Mulder mumbled absent-mindedly, “has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

AU-- Essence Scully insists that Mulder make an escape with her.

Driving Lessons - Chapter 1 (Tumblr)

He, unlike Scully, is not used to this. Not only does he have to make sure he’s packed everything he needs, no, he has to make sure this child – their son – is well taken care of in the few days they’ll be gone. This is the first out of town case since Will came to stay with them and for some reason all the responsibility lies with him this time. Scully should have figured this was a bad idea.

“But… I don’t know how to drive.” Will, a tall, lanky boy with reddish brown hair, Scully’s eyes and nose, stares up at him, shyly. 

AU-- Revival William, who now lives with his parents, learns to drive from none other than Mulder.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[darling-i-read-it]

Survivor's Guilt Part 2

Part 1

Chris Redfield x fem!reader, Ethan Winters x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: angst on ethans side, re7 spoilers, canon violence (zombies, horror, guns), cheating kind of, near death experiences..i think thats it

Author’s Note: I felt like this story led organically towards Chris though that does not mean I don’t love Ethan to death. I felt unsure about the ending but am glad I was able to write a part 2 because people have been asking about it! 

Tagging: (i hope you guys dont mind I’m tagging you but you seemed interested in a second part!) @godihatethiswebsite @undeadfreak47 @hexaecana @elysiaaaaaaa

Summary: You and Chris search for Ethan in the ship and old feeling resurface. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Chris’s voice was even when he spoke, even when he was scared. Especially when he 

was scared. There was no point in making everyone else react to something if he could just keep that all pent up, make everyone think he had it under control. Your face was so wide with terror, the kind he had never seen plastered on your face before. He didn’t recognize it on your features but he recognized it. He knew it from the civilians he helped, those that were so worried about their loved ones that they would do anything to see them safe. The look in your eyes dripped with self sacrifice. He wondered if he looked like that when he was with you. He wondered if despite what he thought, he looked like that even now, following you around and blocking you from danger. 

You had lost Ethan. Lost him in the house, on the ship. You were stuck walking around a shipwreck that was too large to case, too large to fully understand. 

Chris was trying his best to make you feel like he had it under control. He would find Ethan, return him back to you, never see you again. The more time he spent alone with you the less that became a priority so he was eager to forget this ever happened. Forget it happened for the sake of his sanity. Forget that there was likely a life where you and he were happy and normal and domestic. 

Even when you brushed past him in the tight hallways of the ship, he longed for your touch. 

“If Ethan’s here then so is Mia,” you muttered. Your voice was barely above a whisper. It sounded so loud but you were trying to ensure it didn’t echo down the hallway. You could never be sure that there wasn’t something watching you. 

“Eveline too,” Chris said, just as quietly. You were both tense as you walked around a corner. Chris hadn’t put his gun down in ages. It was starting to leave imprints in his gloved hands. 

“It’ll be a party,” you muttered. Your eyes caught a glimpse of something on the ground. You rushed forward in the near darkness to find a knife, a lot like the ones left at the Baker house. It had dark blood smeared on the tip. There was nobody to accompany it. 

“You think it’s Ethan’s?” he questioned, looking over your shoulder. You shrugged. 

“Could be. Could be Mia’s.” You pocketed it. You kept walking. Chris followed you, watching your six like his life depended on it. You glanced back at him. “How did things get like this? When I left, all the monsters were tangible. I could see them coming for me. Now we’re here with slime on the walls?”

"There's some sort of hive mind,” he explained. “There’s too much to tell you now. You’ll just have to trust me when I say it’s evolved.”

“Yeah well, I can tell that it’s evolved. But how?” 

“We don’t know.”

“You’ve been knee deep in this for so long and you still don’t know the reason it’s all happening? Is it Umbrella? Is it the world finally caving in?” You turned around to look at him. He almost ran into you. “Pretend I’m a civilian asking you these questions. How do you answer them? How do you tell people that you can be a perfectly nice family out in the middle of nowhere and still be targeted by something beyond your control?” His jaw set. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark so much so that you could see Chris’s stubble. You could see the look in his eyes, the challenge. 

He took the words as an insult. He took you being here, as an insult. He had done so much to protect you just for you to end up in the same place you would’ve even if he had kept you by his side. 

“Umbrella started something and they don’t know how to finish it,” he said finally. “But the world has assured us that there are other forces at work here. Eveline is not exactly an Umbrella creation.” You shook your head. 

“Of course not. Because that would be too easy. You defeat the big bad and it always comes back with more heads right?” You shook your head. “I’m sorry I’m coming at your throat. I just never thought I would be here again.” You had been comforted with the knowledge that people like Chris were out there protecting you. That was the only reason you let yourself go. 

“The world isn’t exactly fair.” 

“It never has been.”

Your eyes lingered on his. Remembering what it was like to touch him. Remembering what he looked like in the morning, the sun on his face, a gentle smile on his lips, a chaste kiss on your skin. The very thought made you angry. You had left all of this to have a life you weren’t even allowed to have anymore. 

It didn’t matter if Ethan lived through this or not. You would be right back where you had started years before. In danger. Always. 

There was a bang in the room before you. You turned around, gun raised again. It sounded like something hard had hit something metal. The conversation was over once again and you were back. 

You slowly slipped back into the you that understood how to use this gun well. The rust was chipping off. You were a soldier again. Had you ever stopped? Had your life with Ethan been anything except a distraction from who you really were? Had you been pretending this whole time to be something you knew you could never have? 

You shoved the door open. 

Mia stood at the end of the room. There was a large pipe surrounded by grated walkways. She was facing you. Even though she was hidden by her dark hair, you recognized her instantly. She was swaying a bit, twitching. 

“Mia,” you prodded. Her neck twitched. You saw an eye peek from behind her hair. “Mia, please put your hands in the air.” She didn’t make any movement, indicating that this was the Mia that took your boyfriend's hand off. Your face hardened as you approached her, gun raised, wondering if Ethan was already dead. “Mia.” 

She lunged at you without saying anything. She threw no insults, she didn’t bother to pretend. She just lunged. You shot at her but it only momentarily stopped her. It was like you had thrown a ball at her shoulder instead of a bullet. You kept shooting, even though it was doing effectively nothing. She reached you, hands on your sides with inhuman strength. 

You could hear Chris moving. You had never been more glad you had called him. You struggled with Mia, her snarls biting at air. You kicked her, you scratched at her, you used everything you could remember from training. 

She was thrown off you. 

You scurried away, backing away. You grabbed your gun which you had lost in the scuffle. You aimed it well, hitting her head in a clean shot. It went through her eye and out the other side. She stumbled. 

Someone was picking you up. You grabbed them, allowing them to help you to your feet. You recognized Chris as you stood against him, still shooting at her until the clip was empty. Your breathing was ragged and angry and worried. 

She fell to the ground. 

You knew she wouldn’t be down long. You had to leave. You had to lock her in this room and burn the place down. 

Chris did the thinking for you. He had your arm in his hand, dragging you past her and out of the room. He shut the door behind him, pushing down on the handle. He broke it. 

You stared at the clouded window and felt a pang of guilt mixed with anger. She was the reason you were here. Now she was going to die, infested by a virus that wasn’t her. 

You were still holding on to Chris. You might’ve stopped for a moment but now your hand was back on his arm, your brain blurry with thoughts. He looked down at you, eyes meeting. 

“Are you okay?” 

You didn’t think about kissing him. You just did it. 

Your lips were on his and it felt like home. It felt like you had never left, like you had kissed him yesterday and you would kiss him tomorrow. It was filled with the emotion of every single year you had been apart, by everytime you wondered if he was dead in a ditch, everytime you got drunk and swore not to think about him. 

His strong hands were so gentle when they held you. 

Though passionate, the kiss was short lasting. 

You pulled away and your eyes stayed shut for a moment, pretending you were home with him, like you had never left. Then they were open again and the nightmare remained. 

There was no regret in his eyes. There was no regret in yours. It was a mutual feeling, broken only by the duties of soldiers who had loved each other for a little too long. The bucket had overfilled and tipped over. 

“We have to find Ethan,” he reminded you. 

Ethan.

Guilt hit you like a truck. He could be dead. You looked forward, giving no other words to justify or break what had just happened. Chris let you be, let the kiss hang in the air. 

-

Ethan was not far. Chris had called for backup when you entered the ship and his friends arrived just in time. You helped Ethan finish off Eveline and were shot out of the ship, landing hard back in the outside world. Chris’s people carried you away in a helicopter as the nightmare of the Baker house erupted in flames. What had been a horror was now nothing but a burnt part of the map, something people would merely whisper about. 

Chris brought you back to where the BSAA had set up camp. 

You had a hand in Ethan’s. He looked exhausted. There was something off about the look in his eyes but you couldn’t place it and you didn’t feel like asking him about it. Questions like that came later, when you were less tired and more hydrated. 

“I’m sorry I lost the cars,” he muttered. He was sitting on the makeshift hospital bed. There was no one else there. People had gone to try and find Lucas, who had been lost in the fire and not confirmed dead. You were sitting in a chair beside him, in silence. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “I’m sorry about Mia.” He took a deep breath. He did not tell you it was okay. 

“We’re gonna bring in the best medical help,” Chris explained. He watched as Ethan’s hand left yours. “Doctors are coming in right now to look you both over.”

“What about you?” you questioned. “You were in there, just the same as me.” 

“I’ll get looked at. I have to go with my team back in and find Lucus.” Your jaw hardened. 

“The work doesn’t end,” Ethan observed. He understood why you left. 

“By yourself?” you questioned. 

“I’m a big boy,” he promised you. You purse your lips, glancing at Ethan. You had no idea the world was this bad. You had no idea it had gotten so much worse since you left the job. 

“Let me go with you.” He shook his head. 

“Absolutely not.”

“No.” Him and Ethan spoke over each other. You gave Ethan a look. 

There was something in your eyes that he didn’t recognize. He wondered if he had lost you the second he left your house without telling you. Had that been the breaking point in your relationship? Did relationships survive things like this? 

Yours and Chris’s did, Ethan thought. You and Chris slipped back into each other like puzzle pieces. It was like no time had passed. No kind of ill will had come between the two of you, from the looks of it right then. Ethan wanted to desperately grab your hand, beg you to stay with him, tell you that he couldn’t afford to lose both you and Mia. Instead he watched your face as you looked at Chris. 

“I’m a big girl Chris.” 

“You’ve been out of the game for too long. You can’t just jump back in like this.”

“I just did. I have knowledge of the interior, we were just there Chris. It would be smarter to bring me.” Chris and you stared at each other with looks that Ethan could be envious of. Challenging, protective, loving. “Let me go back. Let me back in.” 

This life was like a drug. You could be gone forever but the second you could come back it was too addictive to stay away from. You stood up. 

“You’re the captain now hm? You tell them I can help. You know I can help.” You walked up to him. 

“I almost lost you back there.” He didn’t specify that it was the fight with Mia that had him particularly worried but you knew it was. You knew that he was also thinking about the kiss that happened right afterwards. 

It hadn’t left your mind. 

“Chris I’ll find my way back here either way,” you muttered. “There’s no use in trying to stop me.” 

If Ethan wasn’t there he would’ve kissed you. Instead he dipped his head. 

“Talk to your boyfriend about it.” You looked back at Ethan. Chris left the tent. You were left alone together for the first time since before the whole ordeal. Conflicted, you walked back to him. 

“Go,” he said, voice strong.

“Huh?” Ethan’s face was soft and understanding. 

“Go.” There was a beat of silence as you stared at him, trying to read his expression. He had just been through everything and was letting you go? “I know why you left this. But this is your life, isn’t it?” Your face scrunched into a hurt expression. 

“Not necessarily-”

“The only reason you left is because you wanted to prove a point to him. You proved your point.” 

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I want to go home. I want to take you with me. But I don’t think that’s what you want and that’s okay.” 

“Ethan-”

“It’s not what you want, right?” You remained quiet. You couldn’t argue with that. He was right. You wanted to stay here. You wanted to get back into a fight you had once been so passionate about. He nodded once. You weren’t sure if he was numb or in complete control. “Exactly.” He grabbed your hand. “I dragged you back into this the second I believed that email.” 

“But the house,” you whispered. 

“We’ll figure it out. Just go. Please.” You nodded curtly. 

“Okay,” you breathed. He wouldn't look at you. You got up slowly, wondering if this was really happening. You tried to tell yourself doing it now was for the best. This is the only outcome that would’ve made any sense. 

You left the tent.

“Oh shit.” You looked up. You were met with John Perlman, someone you used to work with. He was older now but had the same slanted smile. “The rumors are true.” 

“Perlman,” you breathed, laughing a bit. 

“How are you doin girl?” 

“I’m okay,” you said and you meant it. You were alright. You were gonna be alright. 

“I hear you’re going back to the tunnels with the boss,” he observed. “You back in it?” Your eyes searched for Chris. You found him in front of a different tent, grabbing a box of things. 

“I guess so.” “He kept all your things when you left,” Perlman explained. “I’m sure he’s still got ‘em. It’s nice to have you back.” He pat your back before walking past you. The short conversation ended. Chris approached you with the box.

“Well?” he asked. 

“I’m ready Cap.” He nodded once and then handed you what he was holding. You looked down in it. The Dragoon you had used for years sat at the top of the box. “You kept all this?” 

“Just in case.”

“You broke up with me, you know that?” you looked back up at him. 

“If you’re gonna be in this I’d rather you be in this with me.” He gave you a curt nod. “We had out in 15.” 

He started to walk away. 

“Wait! Wait Chris,” you called. You put the box down by your feet. He turned around just in time for you to throw your arms around him. You kissed him again, this time like you weren’t about to die. He held you tightly to him, comfortably. 

He’d be okay. You would be okay.

[ereardon]

That Summer || Part Eight [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

A Bradley Bradshaw AU

Synopsis: One night during the summer you turned eighteen, you woke up to a surprise. Your father, a retired Navy Admiral, had posted bail for the son of a former colleague who was now orphaned and had gotten himself mixed up with the law. Instead of letting him get lost in the judicial system, your father signed himself up as Bradley Bradshaw’s guardian to prevent him from going to juvie. You were explicitly told to stay away from the boy in the attic room. But as the summer went on, you and Bradley struck up an unlikely friendship that turned into a forbidden relationship. Bradley tipped your world upside down, challenging everything you had once thought you knew. How could the two of you think it would end any differently than it did when your father called the cops the night he found the two of you in bed together?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, angst, smut

Chapter summary: Y/N celebrates her 18th birthday and Bradley gives her a gift she'll never forget; Bradley and Y/N take their relationship to the next physical level and he makes a promise to her he's dead set on keeping

Wordcount: 2.3K

Series masterlist here; Part Seven here

You had never been in love before Bradley. 

What you didn’t know was that love like the way you and Bradley felt about each other wasn’t standard. It wasn’t normal for two teenagers to feel that way about each other and mean it. 

What you didn’t know was that you would spend the rest of your life trying to recreate how you felt that summer. For the way you felt that night as Bradley’s arms wrapped around you and he told you, for the first time, that he loved you. 

What you didn’t realize was that loving Bradley was short and sweet and perfect. And it would crumble. Before your very eyes. 

***

He knew, the moment he said it, that he shouldn’t have. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you. He did. Bradley Bradshaw was sure of only a handful of things in his life — that California was superior to most, if not all other states; that his mother was his best friend, even in death; that more restaurants should carry hot dogs and meatballs as main courses. 

And there was one other thing that he was absolutely certain about. It was that he loved you, with every fiber of his being. With every breath he became more infatuated and tied to you. 

The two of you were bonded. Bradley knew that no matter what happened, you would own a part of him forever. He would never be complete again. And that was OK. He loved you, and he wanted to give you the world. But he had nothing to his name. So he would settle with giving you a piece of his soul. 

He gave you everything he could. He promised he would.

He just prayed it was enough.

***

“The dress code is white tie,” you said, snapping your seatbelt and adjusting the mirror. 

Bradley frowned from the passenger seat. “What is that?” 

You rattled on about what exactly it entailed and Bradley’s stomach sunk further. He was suddenly, overwhelmingly, anxious about this. Dancing in front of a room of strangers? Watching his every move so that he didn’t betray what you two had? Trying, and failing, to learn the steps of some arcane waltz that was exclusively designed to trip people up? 

But he couldn’t tell you any of those fears. You were excited. He could see it in your face. The way the light hit you as the two of you pulled onto the main road, headed for town and the custom tailor your father swore by. For the first time in a long time, Bradley saw you happy outside the confines of your bedroom or his. 

He felt it was his duty to maintain that happiness. If only for a fleeting moment. 

“That sounds great,” he said as you finished telling him about the meal. 

You looked over with a grin. “Really?” He nodded and you reached out, taking his hand in yours. “See,” you said. Beyond the windshield, the island stretched out in front of you, seemingly endless. 

But everything ends. Roads would turn to vegetation and then sand and then water. And if you kept going straight the two of you would be shuttled off into the abyss of the ocean. 

“I knew they’d come around,” you added and Bradley smiled at you gently, feeling your fingers squeeze his. “They’re going to love you just as much as I do. It’ll all work out, I promise.” 

You meant it. He knew you meant it. 

But he also knew you were wrong. The minute your father found out that Bradley was the person you were sneaking off to see under the cover of nightfall, it was all over for him. For both of you. 

It was only a matter of time.

***

“Happy birthday, Pumpkin.” Your father kissed the top of your head and placed a small box in front of you at the kitchen table. “From me and your mother.” 

You smiled at him and slid a finger under the wrapping, revealing a familiar robin’s egg blue box. You gasped and your father chuckled. 

Inside was a small diamond pendant necklace. You lifted it up softly, letting the diamond swivel around and collect the light. 

“Thank you daddy,” you smiled. You looked at the opposite end of the table. “Mother, thank you.” 

She nodded curtly. 

Louise brought out a perfect three-tiered coconut cake, way too much for four people, and you blew out the candles in one swift breath. 

Your father raised his glass of champagne. You and Bradley did the same, as well as your mother. “To my daughter on her eighteenth birthday,” he said warmly. “You’re perfect. And we love you so much. Cheers.” 

Bradley caught your eye from the other side of the table. He smiled and you felt it in your toes.

Eighteen. You had your whole life ahead of you. But all that mattered in that moment was making it to tonight. Because you and Bradley had plans. 

***

The door eased open. You turned from where you had been staring out the window at the waves crashing along the shore during high tide. 

Bradley tried not to let his jaw drop. You were practically ethereal. Pale, silvery moonlight illuminating you from behind. He stepped inside, closing the door softly, trying to gulp as silently as possible. 

You fiddled with the sleeves of your white lace robe, suddenly nervous. But when Bradley crossed the room, sliding one hand beneath your chin, drawing your eyes up to his, all of that fear and anxiety drifted away. It was just the two of you. That’s all you would ever need. Just Bradley. 

“I didn’t get to say it earlier,” he whispered, “but happy birthday.” 

You smiled and Bradley’s thumb reached out, tracing over the corner of your lip. “Thanks.” 

His other hand came out, brushing over your waist. You shivered unintentionally. “We don’t have to do this,” he murmured. 

You shook your head. “I want to. I want you, Bradley. All of you.” 

Bradley nodded, dropping his hand to take yours, walking you over to the side of the bed. He reached up to unbutton his shirt and you leaned forward, doing it for him. Carefully, you undid the row of buttons on his linen shirt, sliding your hands along his bare chest, nudging it off his shoulders. 

He reached out, fingers grasping the silky tie of your robe. Bradley looked up at you, waiting for the go-ahead. You nodded and he slid it open softly, reaching out and letting the robe slip from your shoulders and arms, pooling onto the ground. Bradley’s eyes went wide as he took in your matching white panties and lace bra. Gently, he leaned down, kissing your shoulder as your head reached back, a small sigh exiting your mouth. Bradley’s hands ran over your exposed skin, warming you, and your fingers reached for his belt, pulling at it. 

He leaned back with a smile. “Slow down, Birdy.” 

“Need to feel you.” 

A groan fell from his lips and he quickly shed his belt and shorts, standing in front of you in a pair of blue boxer shorts, cock already standing at full attention beneath the fabric. You reached out, petting him over the cotton material, and Bradley moaned sinfully. Your fingertips slid into the waistband and you looked up at him, waiting. He nodded and you pulled them down, letting his thick cock spring free. 

The two of you stood facing each other. Bradley reached out, holding your hips, pivoting you wordlessly toward the bed. He laid you down gently before crawling on top of you, his lips everywhere: your collarbone, the top of your breast, your stomach, the squishy part of your thigh where it met your hips. 

You moaned quietly as Bradley unclipped your bra, taking your nipple into his mouth, massaging your other breast with his hand. “Fuck,” he muttered, nipping at the delicate skin. He looked up, brown eyes locked on yours. “You’re perfect.” 

Excitement coursed through your veins. Your body was desperate for Bradley. “Brad,” you whispered. “Need you now.” 

You could feel his cock flutter against your thigh, the tip already wet. It made you want to press your thighs together, craving the friction. “Honey,” he murmured softly. “Let me at least get you ready.” 

The truth was, he needed a moment himself. The truth was, Bradley had never done this before. 

You ran your fingers through his hair. 

“I’m ready. More than ready.” 

Bradley nodded, easing his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them off of the side of your bed. You opened your legs wider, allowing him to settle himself between them. He was quiet for a moment, one hand on your thigh, the other gently holding his hard cock. A hesitation. 

“Are you OK?” you asked. 

Bradley looked up. “There’s something I have to tell you.” He let out a breath. “I’m a virgin.” 

Oh. Oh. That explained it. The way he was looking at you. Wanting to take things slow. You sat up, kneeling on the bed facing him. You reached out softly, one hand cupping his cheek. “Bradley.” His name on your lips made him want to pass out. It was gentle. Caring. Bradley knew he might never meet another person who would love him the way you did in that moment. 

He wanted you, all of you. He wanted so much it terrified him. And the worst part was that he knew you wanted more, too. You wanted him. A life with him. You wanted things he couldn’t give you. You wanted stability and comfort and a home. You wanted a whole life that was outside of Bradley’s reach. 

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” you murmured. “Whatever you want to do, I’m happy.” 

He shook his head. “I want to.” I’m just scared.  

“Are you sure?” 

His eyes latched onto yours. “I love you, Birdy. More than anything else in the world. More than I ever thought was possible. So yes, I’m sure. I just, I needed you to know.” 

You leaned forward, pressing your lips against Bradley’s. His warm hands came out to your sides, leaning you back gently, settling you on your back on the mattress. One of his hands nudged your legs open and you gasped into Bradley’s mouth as you felt the hot tip of his cock brush against your wet entrance. 

He groaned as he pushed the head inside of you, a literal whimper leaving his mouth. “Oh, oh God.” 

“Bradley,” you whined, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and upper back. 

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he whispered against the skin of your neck, pushing further inside of you, splitting you into pieces. “Birdy, oh shit!” 

He slid further inside of you, thick cock stuffing you full, your walls fluttering around him as you stifled moans into the skin of his shoulder where you pressed your mouth. Bradley’s hand came up and gripped your neck, holding onto you. Clinging to you. 

Once he was all the way inside, you opened your eyes. Bradley sat staring back at you, his brown eyes blown wide. “Baby,” he whispered. 

You knew what he wanted. You nodded. “Please,” you begged and he obliged, pulling out a few inches before slamming back into you, eliciting a simultaneous moan from both of you. His rhythm was clumsy, asymmetrical, as he pulled back, thrusting into you repeatedly. But it didn’t matter. Your feet climbed onto Bradley’s back as you curled yourself around him, his pants and sighs in your ear causing your walls to tighten on him. “Bradley!” 

“Fuck, Birdy, I’m not going to last,” he moaned as he slid further inside of you. “Where should I?” 

“Inside of me,” you begged and Bradley’s pace picked up until he was shooting cum inside of you, a messy jumble of moans and praises falling from his mouth as he stilled inside of you. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, holding him to your chest where he had collapsed against you. “I love you,” you murmured against his sweaty, salty skin. “I love you.” 

You held him close, his face buried between your neck and shoulder. And you knew that you would never forget holding Bradley in your arms. 

Finally, he pulled out slowly, groaning lightly. The two of you cleaned up in the adjoining bathroom before you slid into bed under the covers, patting the space next to you. “Stay,” you asked. 

He nodded. “I will. I promise. But first, I have a present for you.” 

You frowned. Bradley had no job. No income. He had nothing to his name. How could he have a gift for you? 

Bradley bent down, fiddling with the pocket of his discarded shorts, before slipping under the covers next to you. He grabbed your hand, dropping something from his fist into yours. 

It was cold. He pulled his hands away and you opened your hand, revealing a plain gold band placed on your palm. 

“It was my mother’s wedding ring,” he said and you looked up in shock. “It’s the only thing I have of hers.” 

You shook your head, pressing it back into his hands. “Bradley, no. Absolutely not. I can’t accept this.” 

“Y/N,” he said and there was a finality to the word. “Yes, you will. She would have wanted you to have it. I want you to have it.” 

“Is it, um?” You didn’t know how to ask. 

“Not yet,” Bradley whispered. “But someday, Birdy, yes. Someday I’m going to ask you to marry me. I promise, no matter what happens, I’ll make you my wife.” 

You slipped the ring onto the fourth finger of your right hand instead of your left. It fit perfectly. You looked up at him. “I love it. Thank you.” 

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours softly. “I love you. I’m always going to love you. I'm sorry it's not much," he added. "But it's all I could do."

Your fingers tightened around his, the cool metal brushing against his skin. "It's perfect," you murmured. "It's more than enough. You're more than enough."

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[farity]

Let’s Pretend, part 6

Aemond watched her laugh with her father before she reached the altar where he stood, in the little chapel built out of rock.  He took her hand from the older man’s, squeezed it because she was shaking.  She wore her mother’s veil, an intricate lace confection that her father drew back before taking his seat next to Lord Stoughton, and when she said the words, he could hear her voice trembling.

The Septon bound their hands together and he leaned in.  “Do not be nervous,” he whispered.  She nodded at him but he could still feel her shaking when he kissed her.

After dinner, her father pulled her aside and told her that he and Lord Stoughton were hunting in the morning and would spend the night at the lodge on the edge of the estate.  

Aemond waited in her bedchamber while her maid helped her change from the gown she’d worn to their wedding.  There was a quiet contentment in his heart, which he was not used to, and he knew it was because this - her - was everything that was right.

* * * * * 

“You look beautiful, my lady.”  your maid finished brushing out your hair and let the glossy waves fall over one shoulder.  She glanced at you and put down the brush.  “I know we have spoken of these things before, but do you have any questions about, you know, the bedding?”

You shook your head.  “No, I do not think so.  I know what will happen, in general terms.”

Milla smiled gently, “there might be a little pain when you are first joined, but it will soon go away,” she said, busying herself adjusting your nightgown.  “And there might be a few drops of blood but that is perfectly normal.”

She grabbed your hands, “I am very happy for you, my dear lady, the prince seems to be quite taken with you.”

“Thank you, Milla.”  To be perfectly honest, you were slightly terrified.  You loved Aemond and trusted him, but you hoped you wouldn’t do anything wrong.  “I do not wish to disappoint him.”

“My lady, you will not. Let him lead you but trust your instincts.”  She stepped back and smiled.  “I apologize, I should say, my Princess,” and she curtsied.

“Oh, gods no, please don’t do that.  I am already far too nervous for words.”

She turned and grabbed a cup of wine.  “Then have a sip, it will ease your nerves.”

* * * * * 

Aemond watched the door open and then she walked in.  She smiled shyly at him, her fingers playing with the embroidery on her nightgown.  He put down his cup, closed the distance between them and cradled her face in his hands, kissing her gently until she pressed herself against him and her arms went around his waist.

He could feel her nerves, feel her pulse jump when he started kissing her neck, the little shivers that went through her.  He pulled back, not wanting to rush her, but then she rose on her toes to kiss him and he decided to wrap an arm around her and take her to the bed.

“You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” he whispered as he sat with her on his lap,  “and the most precious thing I’ve held in my life.”

She smiled up at him, her cheeks flushed, and then began unlacing her nightgown, the silk ribbons giving way as the front fell open.  Aemond’s gaze landed on the circle of ruined flesh below her collarbone, where the arrow had pierced her and he brushed his lips over the spot.  “I will never forget that I almost lost you.”

She cupped his cheek, raising his face to hers.  “You did not lose me, Aemond.  You never will.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth, her hands holding his face with such tenderness that for a moment he felt tears begin to pool behind his eyes.  He decided to put the sentiment aside and focus on his wife, and he deepened the kiss, her little sighs and the way she innocently sank against him making him want all of her now.

He bared one shoulder, still kissing her, felt her shrug the other side off so she was now naked to the waist, and then her fingers began undoing the laces on his tunic.  That she loved him was a miracle, that she wanted him was beyond anything he had imagined.  Again, he pushed the thought aside and let her continue.  When she pulled away he saw how she bit down on her lip and slipped her hands under his tunic.  He reached back and pulled it over his head, and she was staring at him, her eyes darting over his chest and shoulders, and then her hands were following.  

He very much wanted to do the same to her, but he let her discover and explore and when she looked back up at him, he wanted to capture the look in her eyes and save it for a century’s worth of memories.  “Am I adequate?” he couldn’t help but ask, and she laughed.  “Aemond, really.  You must know what you look like.”

“I only care about what you think.”

“I think my husband is truly beautiful.”

He raised an eyebrow, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.  “Well, I do,” she added, running her hand down the muscles on his arm.  “And I am very glad my plan failed miserably,” she laughed again.

He’d never imagined a future for himself where there was laughter, and love, and here she was, the purest thing he’d ever seen, giving him both.  He pulled her to him, kissed her until she was breathless, and lowered her to the bed.

When he began pulling on her nightgown to slip it off completely, she started working on the ties on his breeches, her fingers shaking against his stomach.  She’d never get them undone, he thought, and helped her until he could push them down and kick them off.

There would be pain the first time for her, he knew, but she spread her legs willingly for him, let him settle his weight between her thighs and looked up at him with wide eyes.  He didn’t know what to tell her, he wanted to reassure her that it would not always be like this but could not find the words.  

“You look so very serious, Aemond,” she said, and smiled at him.

He was probably making her even more nervous.  “I take my duties as a husband very seriously”, he replied, smirking, and she laughed softly.  “I mean to leave no doubt that you are mine,” he added, nuzzling her cheek, and began pushing inside her.

She was tight and small and felt like glory itself around him, and he could feel her fingertips making the tiniest of brushes on his arms, over and over.  He could not wait any longer and drove his hips until he was seated fully inside her.  Her fingers tightened on his arms, the sting of her fingernails and her sharp inhale the first he had ever felt.

He pulled back slowly, felt her kiss his jaw as the tension started to leave her.  He took her mouth, the sweet warmth of it so freely given to him and only him.  Selfishly, he reveled in the knowledge she had never been anyone else’s, that he was the only one who would ever know her this way.  He began moving, delighted when her arms went around his neck.

"You feel so good,” he murmured, sliding his hand along her thigh, “I did not know you were this soft all over.”

There was a familiar sharp heat beginning to build at the base of his spine, and Aemond reached between her legs, biting down on a moan when she clenched around him at his touch.  

“Oh,” she breathed, and her eyelashes fluttered.  He did it again, now determined to watch her lose herself, and when she whimpered, he shoved aside his own need to concentrate on hers.  “Aemond.”

His fingers swirled, feeding the fire inside her, and she pressed her cheek against his, her thighs tensing.  She moaned, clinging to him, her hips rocking as she reached and reached.  “So beautiful,” he said, “so perfect.”

He wasn’t going to last much longer, and when she cried out, her inner muscles fluttering wildly around him, he drove his hips to the hilt and let his own release overtake him.  

* * * * * 

You had definitely not expected this.  You had hoped for a feeling of closeness, Aemond being tender with you, but not this feeling of complete wanton abandon.  He had not seemed displeased with you at any moment, so you hoped you hadn’t done anything wrong.  

“You are far too quiet,” he said against her temple, and then suddenly rose up on his elbow.  “Did I hurt you?”

“Oh no,” you shook your head, “there was but a moment of discomfort.”  You couldn’t help but asking, “was it acceptable for you?”

He looked down at you.  “It was more than I ever expected.”

“Aemond, I would appreciate truthfulness in this.  It was my first time and I probably blundered-”

He stopped your words with his mouth, and then pulled back to look at you.  “I speak the truth, doubting wife.  I may have lain with more experienced women before, but believe me, that was all about the physical aspect of it.”  He told you about the time Aegon took him to the Street of Silk, how he’d paid a fortune to have Aemond instructed in the ways of sex, how Aemond had hated every moment and had therefore sought a bedmate so very few times after that.

“I am sorry.  I do promise you I will never make you do anything you do not wish to do.”

He smiled broadly, his face lighting up in a way you knew hardly anyone ever saw.  “I shall take much comfort in your promise.”  He held you close and you wrapped yourself around him, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath your cheek.

* * * * * 

Aemond awoke to find her curled up, her back against his chest, and himself wrapped around her, one arm across her waist, one leg over both of hers.  She was sleeping soundly, but he couldn’t help inhaling the familiar scent of her hair.  In her sleep, she sighed, wriggling her ass against him and he immediately hardened.

He moved her heavy hair to bare a shoulder and began placing soft kisses on her skin as he palmed her thigh and hip, pulling up her nightgown.  She stirred, placing a hand on top of his, and began turning toward him.

“Stay like this,” he murmured against her shoulder, and slipped his leg between hers, opening her up so he could touch her, and she arched against him.  “Give me your fingers,” he added, and when she did, he placed them on the knot of nerves between her legs.  She gasped as he began moving her fingers, circling and gliding over and over until she was breathing hard.  “Keep doing that.”

He slipped his fingers deep inside her and she whimpered.  “Aemond.”

“Do not stop.”

She gasped when he curled his fingertips, began moving her fingers faster as he continued reaching inside her.  Her hips had begun to rock in time with her fingers, and she was making little sounds that went straight to his already hard cock.  She was so close, and he bit down on her shoulder, fingertips curling.  She cried out, clenching around him as the orgasm claimed her.  

He couldn’t wait any longer, turned her onto her belly and pulled her hips back before entering her as slowly as he could manage.  She was still contracting, and he closed his eyes, trying to steady himself.  She was resting her forehead on her fists, whimpering as he began to snap his hips.  “Fuck, you feel so good,” he rasped out, barely holding on.

It wasn’t going to take long, despite his best intentions.  She was soft and pliant and soon he was spiraling into the sweet bliss of release.  He collapsed next to her, pulled her against him.  

Once he could breathe normally, he kissed her shoulder again.  “Good morning, wife.”  He felt her smile as she reached back and caressed his face.

“Good morning, indeed.”

* * * * * 

“It will be fine, she will know you are under my protection.”

You looked at him with apprehension.  “I will trust you, Aemond, but know that this is most terrifying.”

They turned the corner and in front of them, in the great field, was Vhagar.  “Let me carry you,” he said, “it will be another way of letting her know that you are mine.”

You did not protest, because faced with Vhagar, you didn’t really care what it took for the great dragon to understand you were not to be its next meal.  He lifted you easily, and you heard her move her head back and forth as she took in her rider approaching.

“Vhagar, lykiri,” Aemond began crooning, his voice soothing.  To you, anyway.  When the dragon fixed her eyes on you, you felt like the slightest wrong move could end in your demise.  Aemond kept talking, and you swore you would learn High Valyrian in order to understand what he was saying.  “I am telling her you are my wife, that you belong to me.”

The dragon bared her teeth and you buried your face in Aemond’s neck.  

“Let me kiss you,” he whispered, and you immediately raised your lips to his.  His hands tightened on you as he deepened the kiss, tugging on your lower lip before he let go of you, placing you on your feet.

“Here.”  He took your hand, placed it on one of the massive scales on Vhagar’s side.  

“She is so warm,” you murmured.  “She is a wonder, Aemond.”

When you turned back to him, he was smiling proudly.  You caressed his cheek, and then he guided you to the rope steps hanging down her side.  “I will go after you.  Once you get up there, sit on the saddle and I will sit behind you.”

Just getting up to where the saddle was high on Vhagar’s back, gave you such a magnificent view of the area surrounding you.  Aemond had explained what would happen - he would do a couple of turns low over your home to get you used to flying, but then you’d soar high in the sky in order to get to King’s Landing.

You quickly sat, scooting forward so Aemond could sit behind you.  It was actually comfortable enough, and he began to expertly secure every strap.  With your riding clothes, it was easy for him to not only secure your waist to the saddle, but also to secure the straps going across each of your thighs.  “Here, slip this between your legs and the straps, it will provide some cushioning.”  He secured himself while you did as he indicated, and then he kissed the side of your neck.  “I never thought I would bring my wife home on Vhagar.”  You smiled and turned to face him. 

“I never imagined I would get to be on a dragon, let alone the most magnificent of all.”

“Are you ready?”

You nodded.  “Yes.”

You inhaled sharply as Vhagar rose, her steps shaking you in your bones before she leapt and the world began racing by you, so smoothly it was like a dream.  You felt Aemond wrap an arm around your waist.  “All good?”

Smiling widely, you turned, “this is wonderful!”

He kissed your neck again.  “Like I said.  Fearless and brave.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “I know I am in the care of the most brilliant of warriors and dragon riders.”  

You leaned back, secure in your husband’s embrace as he deftly guided Vhagar to King’s Landing.

* * * * * 

“Well, well, you did find her after all.”

“Aegon, she is now my wife,” Aemond said, a warning note to his voice.  

Aegon’s jaw dropped.  “I thought it was all theater!”  He turned as the new princess walked in and made an exaggerated bow.  “dearest sister, I welcome you to the family, now that you have been wedded and bedded.”

“Aegon!”  Aemond said sharply.

“I did not pay good money for you to be such a prude, brother.  Has he told you all about his, uh, extensive instruction?”

She glared at Aegon, wishing she could slap that silly smirk off his face.  “Of course he has.  Is there anything you need here, dearest brother?” she had a pleasant smile on her lovely features, but Aemond saw how it did not reach her eyes.

Aegon, having expected more of a reaction from her, pursed his lips and shook his head, taking his sweet time to walk out the door.

She went to one of the trunks that had been placed in Aemond’s bedchamber - their bedchamber now - and began digging around.

“I shall speak with him.”

“Aemond,” she said, not turning, “do not worry about it, he wants the attention.  If you make a thing of it he will just keep needling you.”

“I thought he was needling you.”

At this she turned, smiling.  “Why would he be needling me, he barely knows me.”  She went up to him, wrapped her arms around his waist.  “What time do we need to be ready for dinner? I do not wish to be late.”

He grabbed her and kissed her.  “Unfortunately, soon, although I would much rather keep you in my bed until tomorrow.”

“That sounds delightful,” she said, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him back.  

* * * * * 

Tagging:

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[the-ultimate-pie-family]

Copper top encounter with B part 3

~Copper new magic battery was finished and ready to be installed.~ Copper B, it's finished race yeah your on, "Copper and B started running to see who's faster." it's a tie. Copper your new magic battery is one of a kind now none like it either. Ooooo what's so special about it? Well, unlike you, other batteries that i used to build this battery, but this new battery is equipped with special features. like? "Copper asked interested." Well, this new battery it tells you when you need a tune-up or a part is broken on you, plus this battery takes more magic and saves the storage magic, good, huh? Can my body take an upgrade like that? Yes, it can copper. I checked while you were powered down. I see. ok, I'm ready, but you gotta be shut off for this to work and be completely drained of magic so night night "as blood said that copper stumbled again, powering down."

"Weeks went by. Copper was still adjusting to the new battery her armor was still forming around the battery, and she never knew how, but her armor was stretching, and it hurt somehow, but B stayed by copper no matter what copper didn't mind but B was getting to close copper was thinking B was trying to make her unfocused on what her dad was saying. duck copper, "copper ducked as B was get beamed with a wrench." Now copper, did you understand anything I told you? Be honest now? a little sir, ok B out now, no "blood teleported B out of Reds office"

Oh, come on, dad, let me in. I'll be good please copper listen close be yourself, now forget about us. we're not normal. You still have more things to do. We'll only lead away from what you really want in life. Copper, like god says to her followers, follows where you want to be and never looks back now. i can't make you choose what you want copper, but you choose what you want, not what others want. Remember that copper but sir, your family is interesting. My record says Pinkie Pie is dead for 20 years. Was that word "was" but how? If I tell you I'll have to kill you, "blood smiled, disappearing. Then B came in. " damn you dad, hey B? Are there any spare rooms because I have to do some research, huh? Research? Uh yeah, the castle is full of rooms. Just pick one, or you can sleep with me. "Copper battery started to heat up, making her glow lime green." Uh, hold that thought heh......

Mod pie: i think B hit something with copper. Now, she is glowing lime green. hmmmm, interesting

Tag: @ask-coppertop

[theofficersacademy]

With our tenth lore event officially wrapped up, here’s to a new month and a new year for The Officers Academy! Thank you for continuing to accompany us on this journey!

Housekeeping:

Current Month in TOA: Great Tree Moon

Our 5th anniversary event, Happyland, has officially concluded! Once again, a reminder that with the plotline in the Officers Academy now deviating so much from canon, the academy will no longer be a one-year institute. Students can stay and study for as long as they wish, as long as they participate in their church-assigned missions every month. Of course, not everyone is expected to remain a student for life, so promotions to faculty are always available to you to continue your muses’ stories.

Please be sure to read the closing information for Happyland! It is no longer permitted to start new threads within the event setting, but you are more than welcome to have fun playing with any new friendships (or otherwise) upon your return to the academy proper.

Thank you to everyone who submitted and voted on our anniversary mission tasks! Our new mission board begins today, so check it out here!

We’re also proud to announce the new classes we’ll be adding to the rank chart! Our top three were Malig Knight (28 votes), Witch (27 votes), and Grandmaster (19 votes)! These classes and their masteries will be added to the rank chart shortly.

And our new rank chart items will be: Scrolls (Reason D through A), Berserk Staff (Faith B), Fistbreaker (Bow B). These will be added to the rank chart shortly.

If you missed it through all of the anniversary hype: Don't forget, the 2nd TOA Zine is now accepting submissions!

The feedback following a big event is some of the most important feedback we get. The more detailed you are, the better it helps us adjust and change things for future events and the group as a whole. Please take a moment to fill out this feedback form about Happyland.

Given the sheer number of claims anticipated with this monthly turnover, we’ve created a schedule to help keep them manageable for Rai. Claims that come outside of their allotted timeframe will be deleted, so please pay attention to the dates and groups:

9/1-9/2: Dedicated to regular claims. This is if you are ranking up in a skill after placing your August activity skill point into your stats page, mastering classes, etc. This does not include ranks from the Knowledge Gem, so please wait on those. 9/3-9/4: Team Rats participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/5-9/6: Team Sheep participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/7-9/8: Team Snakes participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. 9/9-9/10: Team Weasels participation, grand prize, knowledge gem ranks. After 9/10: Normal claims resume

Important Updates:

After some careful deliberation, the mod team is implementing a change to the rule concerning which supporting characters TOA will accept. Where before almost any named character could be applied for, we will now be requiring that characters have a canon appearance.

Muses that are already a part of TOA prior to this ruling will, for the time being, be grandfathered in.

As ever, with background characters, it is important we see what canon information is available in the application itself and, once accepted, the character should still not stray too far from this canon. TOA does not accept OCs.

Other

BIRTHDAYS

September Mun Birthdays: Sekhmet (1st), Lailah (12th), Pat (15th), Eri (30th)

September Muse Birthdays: Gerome (1st), Azama (8th), Micaiah (10th), Veyle (12th), Griss (17th), Byleth (M) (20th), Byleth (F) (20th), Andrei (23rd), Morion (23rd), Marisa (28th), Dorothea (29th), Rafiel (29th), Ótr (30th)

MUN ANNIVERSARIES

1st year: Neku (13th), Queenie (16th)

2nd year: Emily (4th)

3rd year: Eri (23rd), Cody (27th)

4th year: none

5th year: Sam (16th)

MUSE ANNIVERSARIES

1st year: Selena (FE8) (6th), Lianna (7th), Ewan (16th), Andrei (23rd)

2nd year: Sakura (4th), Hilda (4th)

3rd year: none

4th year: Kris (M) (28th)

5th year: Laslow (16th)

Muses who have been in the group for a solid year will also be granted an Academy Brooch to put in their inventory. It doesn’t do anything. It just lets others know your character has been around the block. These characters are also granted a new opportunity to change houses if they wish to do so.

- The House Leaders

[tryan-a-bex]

Sometimes when you fall, you fly

Read it on ao3. For @kittynannygaming and @lucienne-thee-librarian

Lucienne laid down her pen. There was something not right in the library, but darned if she could put her finger on it. She rose from her desk and commenced one of her usual patrols. As she walked her normal pattern, she glanced down each aisle. So far, all was as it should be.

“Hhiiiiiic!” The sudden loud hiccup as she rounded the final corner meant there was no way she could miss Gault, huddled at the end of the row, her face in her hands.

“Gault! Whatever is the matter?!” Lucienne exclaimed as she rushed worriedly toward the former Nightmare.

“Oh, Lucienne! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you!” Gault blurted on another sob.

“It’s no bother at all!” Lucienne reassured her. “You do know I’m here to help, right? It’s part of my job, as librarian.” She gently drew the distraught dream up from where she huddled, handing her a handkerchief from her pocket.

Gault wiped her tear stained face. “I’m just so embarrassed about all this! I’m one of my lord’s most experienced creations! I’m a Major Arcana, for goodness’ sake! Yet here I am, crying in the library because I have a problem and I can’t figure out how to solve it!”

“No! Don’t be embarrassed!” Lucienne looked at her tenderly over her reading glasses. “You are strong and beautiful and important, but don’t forget, you’ve only been a dream for a very short time. It’s okay to ask for some help during the adjustment period! In fact, it is always okay to ask for help, and I will always be here for you to turn to.”

Gault blushed a little at the compliment and followed willingly as Lucienne led her back to her desk. Lucienne grabbed a fresh cup from the tea service near the window, filled it, and handed it to Gault as she settled into Lucienne’s visitor’s chair.

“Okay.” Lucienne sipped from her own tea cup, left by her papers on the desk. It was a good thing she enjoyed cold tea. “Tell me everything.”

Gault sniffed once more and took a sip of honeyed tea. 

“Oh, Lucienne! You’ve made it so sweet!”

“Is it too sweet? You’re a dream now, dear, you’re allowed some sweetness in your life!”

“I guess…I guess I like it like this, then.” Gault sipped again, then put her cup down to begin her story.

“Dreams, as you know, … dreams and nightmares are intended to help people change their narrative. We show them their fears and wants so they can face them and become truer to themselves.” She paused for a sip of tea as Lucienne nodded along. “I had been a nightmare for so long. I was used to changing my shape and scaring people from the status quo into something new. Now I find myself having to entice them instead. It’s… very different! I’ve had some good successes, and some mediocre ones, but this. This one has just been a failure!” She rubbed her face with her hands as Lucienne waited patiently for her to continue. ”I thought perhaps I could find help in the library, a clue as to how to go about it, in the record of another similar dreamer. But there are just so many books! And I’m not familiar with the stories of good dreams at all!”

“Well, you have found help in the library,” Lucienne told her warmly, laying her hand over Gault’s on the desk. “Can you tell me a bit more about the dreamer, so I know where to start looking?”

Gault sighed and her shoulders relaxed a bit. She turned her hand and took hold of Lucienne’s properly, as if for courage. 

“This dreamer, you see, is non-binary. They’ve been using a gender neutral online name forever, but they are hesitant to see the internal truth that expresses about them. They know ‘the kids’ are picking all kinds of genders these days, and they’re happy for them! But they haven’t realized yet that they are also allowed to ‘choose’ their gender—they feel stuck with what they were ‘born with.’” Gault sighed again and took another sip of tea. “I thought I’d shape-change into the form they desire to be, and they would see it and realize it was accessible to them as well! But instead, they interpreted their desire for that form as attraction, and Lucienne, they kissed me!”

“How did you feel about that, Gault?” Lucienne asked compassionately.

“It took me by surprise! I wasn’t expecting it! I never intended… I’m not that kind of dream!” Gault finished helplessly.

“It’s okay.” Lucienne rubbed the back of Gault’s hand with her thumb, and Gault’s grip on her tightened. “I know just where to look. First, how to tone dreams so dreamers don’t get the wrong idea. Then, how to help dreamers tell the difference between wanting someone, and wanting to be someone—it’s a far more common problem than you’d expect! Finally, we can look in the gender change section and see if there are any other good tips for shape-changers working on that type of transformation.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much! You are such a good friend!” Gault exclaimed, then looked down at the desk, as if she was worried she’d been too bold by claiming Lucienne’s friendship.

“Of course we are friends, my dear!” Lucienne responded, standing and leading Gault by the hand, up and toward the stacks. “Though this is the same help I would give anyone in your position, including the honey tea.” She looked down at their still joined hands and commented offhandedly, “though not the hand-holding. That’s usually rather more metaphorical.”

Gault beamed at her through the tear stains on her cheeks and boldly asked, “Maybe you’d like to go for a picnic with me, after we are finished here?”

“I would love that!”

“Boss! Hey boss! You won’t believe what I just saw!”

“Matthew.” Dream looked up from his sculpting, wondering what would have prompted his raven to interrupt him at his work. “What have you seen?”

“It was Gault, with Lucienne! They were flying! Over Fiddler’s Green! I mean, Gault was flying and she had her arms all wrapped around Lucienne, it was weird! And they both looked ecstatic! What is going on?”

“Ah,” said their Master. “I expect Lucienne finally told Gault how much she misses flying.”

“But what if they…. They can’t…. Can they?” Matthew didn’t quite know what he was asking, but he was sure the whole Dreaming would be turned inside out if Lucienne started dating someone. She was the steady, stable, responsible one! They couldn’t be having her having romantic dramatics!

Dream smiled slightly at his flustered raven. “Don’t worry, Matthew. I will take care of it.”

“Lucienne!” Lucienne looked up, only slightly startled by the sudden intrusion of her Master’s voice into her work.

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Matthew told me he saw you and Gault flying over Fiddler’s Green this afternoon.”

Lucienne blushed but continued to look him in the eye. “Yes, my Lord.”

“Good. I approve. I made you these.” He handed her a little black scrap which, when she took it in her hands, turned out to be a pair of raven wings about the size of her palms.

“You can…” he gestured at her back. Wonderingly, she reached the wings over her shoulder, and gasped as they attached to her shoulder blades and grew to full size. 

“Oh, my Lord! These are wonderful!” she exclaimed.

“Yes. Well. I thought you might like to fly with Gault more often. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it sooner.”

“Oh, not at all! So, you don’t mind, if Gault and  I…?”

“I trust it will not interfere with your duties.”

“Of course not!” (Lucienne was, after all, an adult, who could carry on a relationship without it interfering with her duties and the weather, unlike some anthropomorphized concepts standing in front of her.)

“Good.”

After that, the residents of the Dreaming became accustomed to the sight of Lucienne with her head in Gault’s lap, under the tree in Fiddler’s Green.

Note: The title quote is by Neil Gaiman, from The Sandman vol 6, Fables and Reflections. 

In my head this is a Queer Platonic Relationship with cuddling and hand-holding. They are zucchinis because I love them.

Next

[schrijverr]

Growing Pains [Barbara's POV] 5

Chapter 5 out of 6

Barbara doesn't know who Robin is under the mask, Dick does. This causes some strange interactions as their friendship develops.

In this chapter, Barbara deals with Dick being weird at school, unsure why he's so taken with her. It's not until after her fight with Pamela that Dick messes up and she figures out who he is.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

Chapter 5: Weird Interest

Dick has been acting weird. Well, it could be that he is acting normal and his normal is weird, since he has been acting weird ever since Barbara first saw him. But he’s acting a different kind of weird now.

He’s stopped mean mugging her like that one random day, but he’s still watching her and Barbara doesn’t know why. What could he want from her?

She can’t figure it out and more time passes. Dick gets more subtle as he studies her. Most their classmates don’t notice he never stopped, hell, she wouldn’t have, but she has something up her sleeve.

Batman has been actually training her for this sort of thing. So of course she notices. Proudly she remembers that Robin hasn’t managed to sneak up on her yet, while she scared the daylights out of him a few nights ago.

For now, it doesn’t occupy her too much. Dick can be a little creeper and stare at her, he hasn’t approached her yet so it’s not really her problem as of now.

Besides, his own ‘friends’ dropped him like it was nothing when he didn’t go along with the Barbara bashing. The shine wore off, she guesses. Maybe he blames her for that, so he’s watching her? Or he is getting desperate.

The latter seems less likely, since many other kids still seem to want to be his friend. He’s rich and famous (most are rich here, not all are famous though) and his foster dad is an icon in the community.

But Dick apparently likes being a loner and a creeper, because he keeps studying her.

However, if you ignore the creepy studying (and everyone does, because only she seems to notice), he is kind and polite, if not a little distant. He smiles easily and never truly sits alone. He is everyone’s friend, yet no one seems close to him. It’s mystifying to Barbara.

A part of her is aware of the fact that Dick was a circus performer before he was taken in by Bruce Wayne.

Not that anyone really forgets, but they don’t seem to realize that it’s not normal how quickly he takes to the socialite life. Is Bruce training him for the cameras? Is he okay? Maybe he is turning to her because she knows what it’s like not to be a rich kid? Or because her dad is the Commissioner.

Hm, maybe she should be worried about Dick? But then again, he was a performer, he probably still is and he could just be adjusting. Barbara has met Bruce Wayne – and she still can’t believe she thought he was Batman for a second there – there isn’t a malicious bone in his body, even if he’s a bit of a coward.

Still, she keeps it in the back of her mind as she allows Dick to watch her. Should something actually be up with him, she doesn’t want to scare him off so much that he doesn’t tell her and if there is nothing- well, she does enough fighting during her night job, so she’s a little tired, but she can definitely take him should he try anything.

The first time they actually speak is a few weeks later. She’s tired and still a little annoyed, because they nearly left her behind last night. If Robin of all people hadn’t noticed and said something, she would have been left to catch up again. It’s getting tiring.

She’s yawning in the back of Mrs. Holland’s class when Dick suddenly turns around. For a moment, she thinks she missed a discussion assignment, but instead Dick randomly asks: “What’s your favorite color?”

“What?” Barbara responds, unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice. Is it a code? Can she remember her dad mentioning anything like it before?

“Oh, yeah, of course, sorry, I should know,” he replies, sounding genuinely apologetic, though Barbara has no clue why, since his response doesn’t at all seem to fit with what she said.

He turns back around and leaves it at that. Barbara wants to shake him until he spills what the hell he’s thinking? Demand him to explain himself. But he seems perfectly fine, shoulders relaxed, no clenched jaw, nothing. None of the signs Batman taught her to look out for.

Maybe Dick is just a weird dude. As long as he keeps his weird contained to school, she would be content to ignore him, but she doesn’t want to risk it. So, she taps him on the shoulder and asks: “Are you okay?” when he turns.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he smiles, polite as he always is, though it feels a little fake. Like she thought; Weird.

That night Robin gives her a grappler, purple to match her costume, and her favorite color. Her brain itches for a moment, thinking of the question Dick asked at school, but then she looks at Robin again and shakes her head. Exhaustion must be getting to her, there’s no way that the polite weird kid is this rude dickhead… Even if he got her a grappler.

The next day at school, she scrutinizes Dick for a second, who sends her a smile. It’s almost weirder than when he was giving her a mean look and she reminds herself that she doesn’t want to be friends with Dick Grayson as she rolls her eyes and plops down behind him, ignoring him and the way his shoulders sag a little.

And after that things are normal for a bit. Their normal, at least. Dick still watches her, but doesn’t approach. She lets him and pretends she doesn’t notice. Meanwhile outside the classroom she gets more friendly with Robin.

When sitting in school, thinking about patrol gets her through. Batgirl is closer to who she really is and running along the rooftops makes her feel alive. It makes her feel more useful too, beating the shit out of bad guys instead of trying to memorize themes and symbolism or something. When she’s out there, she gets to forget about school and everyone in it and just be her.

So, when she runs into her dad while in costume and he disapproves, it hurts. She already knows he doesn’t like that there are kids out there running around with Batman, that he doesn’t want Barbara specifically near danger, having banned her from becoming a cop. But knowing it already and hearing that her own dad doesn’t know why Batman puts up with her is not the same.

There is a little bit of pride in that he calls her effective and mentions the rumors that she’s the Batman multiplied. However, the bruises of the interaction are still a little tender.

And that tenderness isn’t easily shaken off, so she’s still a little fragile when she returns to school again that morning. Dick already in his standard chair in front of hers. She doesn’t want him to talk to her right now, so she doesn’t meet his eyes, her hand coming up to rub at her own eyes, since she’s tired and she might have cried a little bit. Just a little bit though!

So when Dick does turn around, she groans a little and sends him a glare as she asks: “What?”

“I have an extra cookie,” is all he says.

“Congratulations?” Barbara shoots back sarcastically.

“No, I mean, would you like one? You look tired,” Dick tries to save himself.

“Wow, thanks,” Barbara says and watches Dick cringe, probably realizing he’s finally sounding as creepy as she noticed him being. However, a cookie sounds nice, so before he can retract it, she says: “But I would like a cookie.”

Dick lights up and digs around in his bag to hand her the cookie that she takes with a thanks. It is a homemade cookie and it’s very nice, a little comforting even. In turn Dick just smiles: “You’re welcome,” before going back to Mrs. Holland and hides that she’s eating from the teacher with his back.

He doesn’t say anything to her for the rest of the day, seemingly content with having given her the cookie. He’s a little weirdo, she thinks, but it’s a bit fonder now.

After that they go back to ignoring each other.

It’s not until after that fateful night where she had fought Pamela, fallen off a roof, had a screaming match with Robin and sat on the roof with both him and Batman that that changes.

Dick misses the first classes due to a dentist appointment, apparently. However, when he does show up during their first break, he decides to eat his snack at Barbara’s empty table, ignoring the other groups he usually alternates sitting with in favor of walking over to her table, whispers following him,

“No,” Barbara says, when he gets there, stopping him in his tracks as he is about to sit down.

“No?” Dick repeats, a little confused.

“No,” Barbara says again, this time more firmly. If her interaction with her dad left her smarting, this is worse and she doesn’t want to deal with this right now. “I don’t know why you’re obsessed with me, but no. Not in the mood. Scram.”

“I just want to be friends,” Dick replies, sounding a little hurt. His eyes convey the same and Barbara hates that it works a little on her.

“Why?” she asks, switching tactics to interrogation, since intimidation didn’t work.

“What do you mean why?” Dick asks, frowning.

“What do you mean with what do you mean?” Barbara shoots back. Somehow the banter feels familiar and she pinches her brow as she tries to place it. For a second, she is reminded of Robin and her eyes widen momentarily.

Dick seems to set a step back as if shocked, before his own eyes widen too. He knows something, likely the something she has just figured out. He is Robin.

When she thinks of it, he and Robin have a similar build and Robin incorporates a lot of acrobatics in his fighting, acrobatics a circus trapeze artist would know. It all makes sense. Maybe her Bruce is Batman theory wasn’t so out there and he was pulling an act to fool her. She wouldn’t put it past him, Mr. Paranoid.

“You’re right, I’m being weird. My bad,” Dick says, readying himself to make a hasty retreat, as it dawns on him that he made a mistake.

“No, I was being rude. Sit down,” she says, the last part firm, more like an order. She’s not letting him leave now.

When Dick sits down without protest, she gets a little suspicious about her theory. Robin never listens to her – in fact, he seems to take joy in not listening to her – so this right here doesn’t fit. She narrows her eyes, looking at Dick, who looks back nervously. Robin’s never nervous, the cocky shit.

If she’s wrong, she’ll out herself as Batgirl. She can’t let that happen. She’ll interrogate Robin later tonight. Batman already knows who she is anyway, so it might not even be a secret anymore, since Robin is the favorite.

… Though if her theory is correct and Dick is Robin and Bruce is Batman, then at least it makes a little sense that he gets different treatment. He’s literally his child. Ward. Whatever.

They look at each other, awkward silence around them.

Dick is the one to break it, clearing his throat, before asking: “So, uhm, what is your favorite color anyway?” in an uncomfortable tone.

Barbara lets out a laugh, snort and all, unable to help it. It’s truly as good an icebreaker as any and she never did give him an answer. “Purple,” she says. “It’s purple.”

God, she almost can’t wait until patrol tonight. She hopes she’s right. She is like crossing every finger she has. If Dick is Robin, she is going to rub this awkwardness and his creepy stalkerness in his face for the rest of their lives.