#sixteen fathoms deep

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR SIXTEEN

in which you and eddie take some time to figure each other out in the afterglow of honesty.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 2.7k+

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16:00 ──────────ㅇ───── 24:00

HOUR SIXTEEN - 7:00 AM

Eddie’s favorite color is red. He likes his coffee with an obscene amount of sugar and creamer, which always leads to a regrettable stomach ache. He learned to play guitar on an acoustic six string handed down to him by his uncle, and he’s completely self taught beyond what his uncle taught him about basic notes. And his uncle’s name is Wayne. He refers to the man that raised him as Uncle Wayne. 

Honesty turns out to be quite the beautiful thing in the morning light, and for the first time, you feel as though you’re truly getting to know Eddie. 

It’s a give and take, an even exchange of bits and pieces of each other that are handed over without much thought. You finally have a clearer picture of the man you’ve spent the last fifteen hours straight with. A full photograph in time of who he is, who he really is, in a way that you wouldn’t have been able to fathom a week before. And it’s ironic, looking back on your relationship’s progression with him, the way you two keep skipping over steps before retracing to what was missed. How ironic you’ve let him see you at your most primal and vulnerable, but you’ve just learned his favorite color. 

Eddie Munson isn’t a dick. He’s kind, he’s a huge goddamn nerd, he can be funny sometimes, his favorite color is red, but he isn’t a dick as you’ve been led to believe he was this last year. 

Well, maybe led isn’t the right word. Everyone told you he wasn’t a dick. You just never listened. 

Eddie’s just revealed his favorite movie genre as horror when you’re leaning forward, elbows pressing into your thighs as you ask him with a grin, “What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

“Very funny reference,” he deadpans, barely keeping his face straight as he jokingly narrows his eyes, “Especially considering it’s the Scream franchise.”

 You still haven’t brought up that question of why exactly he fought for your honor after that fight. His grand reveal left you with more confusion than you ever could have anticipated, and more than this fragile friendship could handle this early in the morning. So you’d buried it down, somewhere deep inside, for the sake of the friendship.

“You can’t just say an entire franchise. Pick a favorite one, idiot.” 

Friendship. Was that what this was? When was the last time one of your friends had seen you naked, or ate you out atop a kitchen counter? 

“The first one. You can’t beat the classic.” 

You fight your smile in a similar fashion that he is. Mirroring joy, mirroring surprise, “You’re definitely only saying that for the whole homoerotic friendship between Stu and Billy.” 

“Oh, I definitely am,” he doesn’t even try to deny it as he cracks and laughs softly, “What about you?”

Even after nearly an hour of doing this, going back and forth and learning about each other, the novelty of Eddie genuinely asking you things about yourself hasn’t worn off. The curiosity that lights in his eyes, the way he leans into you to hear each word clearly – it makes you question if this was the same man who had once been so cruel. 

“My favorite scary movie? I… don’t have one,” you lean back into your chair, a small huff of air escaping you from impact. 

There’s two mugs of coffee on the small garden table between your chairs, having gone cold long since Eddie retrieved them for the two of you. That had been when he’d earnestly told you about his coffee preference – he’d been sweetly shy about the ordeal, bashful as he looked down at the mugs and informed you he’d tried to only put a normal amount of cream in yours, only a little bit of sugar. It had been so endearing, the way that when you asked what he meant by normal and he’d only murmured his confession of how he took his morning caffeine over the mug’s lip, you nearly caved into yourself. 

“That’s impossible. No way. Absolutely not,” Eddie is animated as he waves his hands around wildly in front of him, shaking his head furiously at your answer, “I refuse to believe you don’t have a favorite scary movie, especially considering you quoted an iconic franchise. If you can quote Scream, you can tell me what your favorite is-”

You interrupt him with laughter, scrunching up your face, “Okay, first of all- Eddie, hey,” he’s still rambling, still being terribly dramatic in the flailing of his arms, so you reach over to grip the forearm closest to you. All his movements immediately cease as his eyes widen, staring directly at you in an oddity of shock, “First of all, it’s just common knowledge of pop culture. I’ve never even seen those movies,” you’re not sure if Eddie is breathing as your hand remains still tightly clasped against his forearm, and you’re not sure why he wouldn’t be, “Second of all, I’m a wimp. Scary movies might be my least favorite kind of movie, right behind apocalyptic action movies.” 

When he takes a sudden deep breath, you realize he had been holding his breath, “Apocalyptic action movies?” 

You begin to explain, to list examples, and you never once take your hand off his arms. You rattle off a list – 2012, The Day After Tomorrow, San Andrea’s Fault, etc. – all the while feeling his pulse race beneath his warm skin. All the while selfishly enjoying the contact, wondering how long it might take staying like this before your fingertips would mold to him. Maybe they’d eventually melt into his arm, skin molten together so that where he ends and where you begin is impossible to distinguish. A closeness with him that you had never craved so ardently before tonight, before today. 

“So, doomsday movies,” he hums after you give your examples. If you were smart, you’d let go of him. It’s been too long for the contact to be brushed off as normal, “Does that mean you also hate zombie movies?” 

“Nope. Those are an entirely different thing.”

“I wouldn’t say they’re entirely different.” 

“They are. They’re completely unrealistic! San Andrea’s Fault… sort of… well, it could happen.” 

“They’re not completely unrealistic. Some of them almost have, like, legit science behind them.” 

You hadn’t even noticed that he scooted his chair closer. Or the slip of his arm in your loosening grasp, leading your hand until it rests against his wrist, so close to holding onto his own hand that rests palm up against his thigh in wait. 

An offering. 

“There is no logical way that one day, our world is going to turn into a real-life Walking Dead situation,” you say, trying to steady your breathing. 

You won’t make the first move. 

He’s leading this moment. If he wants to hold your hand, then he can take that final leap of faith. 

“Have you actually seen The Walking Dead, or are you just blindly making pop culture references again?” 

You can feel the thrill of his heartbeat pick up in the center of his wrist before he does it. With subtle movements, his wrist slips between your fingertips. 

Only for them to be recaptured by his own knuckles. The dust settles. The warmth spreads. Your palm is pressed to his palm, your fingers interlocked between his fingers. 

“I have seen that one,” you tell him quietly, looking down at your conjoined hands. His eyes are also downcast to them. The tendon in his wrist flexes as he tightens his grip on your hand, the small squeeze becoming more sure. It’s not an accident; this was never an accident. 

It’s in the hair you notice on his forearm, wispy and blonde and almost comical in contrast to the dark curls that grow from his scalp. A layer of fuzz that covers alabaster skin dotted in rare and faded freckles, nearly invisible unless you look closely enough. You can see the tan line across his wrist from where he would normally wear a watch. If you follow the details further up his arm, away from the wrist now awkwardly pressed against yours in a twist, you can see the faded blue-black ink of his tattoos. That flock of bats, the most faded of his numerous additions to his skin, taunts you. You’ve already known him up close and personal in the last few hours, felt him flush against you and memorized the way his body was capable of pressing into yours, but it’s in these details that the ache arises. The sadness that you’ve never known him quite this personally before this moment, and the fear that you never will again. 

An ache all because he’s let you close enough to learn the details of his skin – what a marvelous thing. 

“That’s a miracle,” he mutters, fully entranced as he rubs the pad of his thumb across the top of your fingers. You’re quick to return the motion; his knuckles are far more rough than yours, and you try to count the groves in them, from long weeks no doubt, all in that brief swipe, “Or else I would have had to have insisted upon ending this lovely honesty hour, and subjecting you to a marathon.” 

“We can still have a marathon.” 

You’d do just about anything to remain in this position, to stay this impossibly close to him. You’re selfish and you’re clingy, squeezing his hand a little bit tighter as he had done to you, as if the grip on it reflects your grip on the moment. You can’t let it go – you can’t let him go. 

No matter how you have had him, no matter how long he sits in this golden hour with his hand in yours, it will never be enough. This sudden and abruptly-arriving ache is incurable. 

You want him, you need him, you bloom for him. 

There’s something in his smirk as he awkwardly uses his freehand to bring his mug of too-sweet coffee to his lips that almost whispers that there’s a chance: he also wants you, he also needs you, he also blooms for you.

 And so you tell him about yourself in turn. You don’t just stop at your distaste for horror or your fear of doomsday movies. You tell him how you don’t have a favorite color, how you switch it up too often and all he can do is chuckle at your indecisiveness. Once, an insecurity – now something silly to find amusement in at his side. You reveal to him your coffee preference; you take it with a normal amount of cream and just a little bit of sugar. You don’t reveal to him that before today, you’d always turned your nose up to hot coffee, an iced coffee connoisseur. Something in the sparkle of his eyes warns that he might already know. You don’t play any instruments, but you have a list of songs for him to learn, insisting that someday he’d have to play them for you on that guitar his Uncle Wayne gave him. (You can’t think too much on the way you’re once more speaking in some days with him. Your heart might burst if you do.)

You try to bare your soul, to stare down the barrel of honesty, just as he had. It’s scarier than you could have imagined. Finally, after fifteen hours, you get it. 

You get it, and it only makes you squeeze his hand tighter. 

At some point, he notices the way the sun is warming both of you with each passing minute, palms now sweaty against each other as he asks, “Do you want to go back inside?” 

No. I want to live in this moment for the rest of my days. “We can if you want to.” 

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” 

“Tell me what you want. You constantly do that with everyone else, you know. Let them make the decisions,” he’s smiling softly, eyes squinted against the sun now rising high in the sky, “I can’t even count the amount of times you’ve said that to Nancy on both hands. Which, I mean, awesome – Nance fuckin’ loves being the decision-maker. But we’re talking about me. You’ve never been shy about butting heads with me.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Quite the sudden high horse, Mr. Honesty.” 

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “Well, it’s honesty hour. So, here’s more honesty – I love when you give me a run for my money. Who else is going to tell me to shut the fuck up when I’m on track to ramble for hours about Lord of the Rings?” 

“You want to talk honesty? I would only tell you to shut up because I might have blown my cover and you’d realize I actually enjoyed your company.” 

The soft smile widens, more shameless and more radiant, “Coulda fooled me.” 

“I did fool you,” you tease, and your hand slips from his, but the warmth left behind doesn’t. It’s buried deep in your bones now. 

Things will never return to normal, not for you. It isn’t a bad thing – it’s only a sure thing. 

“For what it’s worth…” he pauses, that smile faltering. “I enjoyed your company far more than I ever let on, too.” 

Is that why you fought for me, after fighting against me? 

He doesn’t let you reply, instead smacking both of his now free palms against his thighs as he moves to stand, “Anyways, I actually do happen to want to go inside,” he gestures to those faded swirls of tattoos across his biceps and forearms, “I don’t expose myself to too much sun for obvious reasons.” 

“Reasons being you’re a vampire?” you tease.

“Ha-ha,” he deadpans, “Yes, it’s definitely because I’m a vampire and not because of these sick tatties.” 

“Calling those abominations sick is pushing it,” you playfully counter as you scoot to the edge of the seat of the chair, unsticking your thighs from plastic, “And I knew it. Your skin is practically glittering like diamonds, Edward.”

He scowls. “So Twilight is off the marathon line up.” 

He sticks out a hand, the same one you had clung to for most of your conversation with each other. You don’t take it immediately.

“There’s going to be a marathon?” 

“You’ve got something better to do?” 

The thought of cuddling up with him on the couch has your heart pounding. Honestly, the couch would now remain tainted for the rest of your days. You might even continue to avoid showing up to his apartment just to avoid flushing red any time you see one of your friends take a seat on the spot he once took you on, had pressed into you as your knees had dug into those cushions, as you had moaned his na-

You had to stop thinking about it before he noticed your thighs pressing together tightly. 

“For the record,” he says, hand still extended, unwavering as the sun forms an aura of gold around his outline, “Honesty hour doesn’t have to end when we go inside. From here on out, I actually insist that it be on the table. One of the perks of being my friend, I suppose.” 

Those are the magic words. You don’t need to immediately know why he fought for you, or why he really led you to believe he hated you for so long. You don’t need to know why he kissed you and you don’t need to know why he’d changed his tune so suddenly the first night you two met. All you needed to know was that if you wanted to know, if you ever find the guts to ask him about these things, he would tell you. 

You reach out and take his hand.

Immediately, he pulls you comically hard out of your chair. When you fumble directly into his chest, he’s already chuckling and wrapping his arms around your waist to steady you. 

“Jesus Christ,” you mumble, pulling back and glaring up at him without any true venom, “Eager much?”

“Very,” he boyishly grins down at you and your heart skips a beat. 

Eagerly, wildly, suddenly, comfortingly – he now occupies a space in your brain you weren’t aware existed. It almost whispers I was always here, always waiting for him. 

The two of you don’t waste any time as he tugs you inside, the promise of a movie marathon awaiting the two of you. 

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[ronmerchant]

A young Lon Chaney Jr. and Sally O'Neil- SIXTEEN FATHOMS DEEP (1934)

[braveclementine]

Chapter 18

Warnings: None, Readers under 18 can read this book. It is solely fluff- nothing sexual

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

.💚💚.

𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖆 𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙, there was silence as the three teachers and two parents took in the sight before them. Ron, Lockhart, and Ginny were covered in muck and slime. I looked like a water bedraggled rat covered in blood and Harry was just plain covered in blood and slime.

Then, Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley recovered, throwing themselves on Ginny with hugs and tears and kisses.

I looked past them. Professor Dumbledore was standing by the mantelpiece, beaming as though this was what he'd expected all along, a piece of crumpled paper in one of his hands. Perhaps he had figured we'd save her since my outburst in the teachers room.

Professor McGonagall looked she might have an aneurysm. She had her hand over her heart and was taking deep breaths.

Then, for some reason I couldn't fathom considering he wasn't the head of Gryffindor house was Professor Snape. He glared at me furiously. I sighed.

Then, I found Mrs. Weasley hugging me and I yelped as her weight pressed me down into the ground. I found that she was sobbing, "You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that." Professor McGonagall said weakly.

"Mrs. Weasley." Professor Dumbledore said kindly. "I think Miss Kane needs to sit down."

Mrs. Weasley let go of me and went back to Ginny's side. Harry helped me into a chair and I felt much better.

Harry laid the sword and diary on the table. Then, he started telling everything that had happened this year. The disembodied voice that both of us could hear, how Hermione finally made the connection, talking to Aragog in the forest, how we figured Myrtle was the girl who died, how the entrance was in her bathroom. . .

"Very well." Professor McGonagall prompted him as he finished telling that part. "so you found out where the entrance was- breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add- but how on earth did you all get out of there alive, Potter?"

Harry then told about Fawkes arrival, the sorting hat, all the instructions I'd basically screamed at him, and apparently how I'd distracted Riddle while he managed to destroy him. However, he avoided talking about the diary.

"What interests me most, is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania?" Professor Dumbledore said, somehow knowing this without knowing about the diary.

Was that where he was hiding?

"W-what's that?" Mr. Weasley asked in a stunned voice. "You-Know-who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not. . . Ginny hasn't been. . . has she?"

"It was this diary." Harry said quickly. "Riddle wrote in it when he was sixteen."

I avoided Snape's gaze. He hadn't taken his eyes off of me once and I found it a bit embarrassing. Couldn't he tell I looked horrible! Why didn't he let off?

"Brilliant." Dumbledore said softly, "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen. Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school. . . traveled far and wide. . . sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But, Ginny." Mrs. Weasley said. 'What's our Ginny got to do with-with- him?"

"His d-diary!" Ginny sobbed. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year-"

I felt all my guilt wash over me again. "Ginny! Haven't I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain? Why didn't you show the diary to me or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic-"

"It was my fault." I choked out. Everyone's heads (excepts Snape's) turned towards me.

"Pardon?" Professor McGonagall asked, shaken.

"If I'd just been a better friend" I exclaimed angrily, "Then she wouldn't have written in it and none of this would've happened!"

"Miss Kane." Professor Dumbledore said kindly. "Don't put all the blame on your shoulders."

I shook my head. "I knew! I knew at the burrow she was writing in it! I should've made the connection faster! I had all the benefit too! I could see everything! And I still couldn't manage to stop it!"

Professor McGonagall said warmly. "I thought you were the one who told me that to interfere with the future would rip holes in the time continuum."

"Well yes. . ." I muttered. "But still. . ." I clenched my fists in my lap, still extremely angry at myself.

"What I want to know." Professor Snape finally spoke, sounding very cold, "Is what happened to you."

"Oh you know." I said very vaguely. "Thrown into a couple walls, fell into some water, nearly drowned, broke an ankle, nothing very important."

They all stared at me and my cheeks coloured red even more.

"Basically." Harry deciphered. "Riddle controlled her with my wand and threw her around when she tried to disarm him. Then, the Basilisk knocked her into the water while she tried to jump on its back, I don't really know what happened there, but I think the water had jets that pulled her downwards. Oh and she dueled Riddle while I stabbed the Diary."

"Basically what Harry's trying to say," I said, shooting daggers at him, "Is that he did all the work and I was a bit of a nuisance."

"Actually-"

"Alright, we get it." Snape said sharply. "I regret asking."

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away. This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort. Bed rest and perhaps a large streaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up. You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice- I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."

"So Hermione's okay?" Ron said brightly. I looked up sharply.

"There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny." Dumbledore said softly. The Weasleys left and Dumbledore turned to me. "Professor Snape, will you escort Miss Kane-"

"No." I said. "Something interesting is going to happen and I want to be here to witness it." I said.

"Very well." Dumbledore relented. "Minerva, I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchen?"

"Right." Professor McGonagall said, back in the groove, though she gave me a peculiar look. "I'll leave you to deal with Potter, Weasley, and Kane, shall I?"

"Certainly." Dumbledore said. "Severus?"

"I think I'll stay and see what this interesting event is going to be." Snape said in a fairly bored voice and he drifted over and stood behind my chair. Shivers went over my spine.

"I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules." Dumbledore said suddenly and I felt goosebumps go over my arms. I felt Snape tense behind me. Ron opened his mouth in horror.

"Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words." Dumbledore said with a smile and Snape sighed behind me. "You three will receive Special Service Awards for Services to the School and- let me see- yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor and two hundred points to Hufflepuff."

I smiled but it didn't matter. We'd still lost. But that was quite alright.

"But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure," Dumbledore went on. "Why so modest, Gilderoy?"

I chuckled.

"Professor Dumbledore." Ron said quickly, "there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart-"

"Am I a professor? Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, wasn't I?" Professor Lockhart said, an expression of mild surprise on his face.

I heard Snape quietly laugh behind me. I was suddenly glad he'd stayed.

"He tried to do a Memory Charm on us and the wand backfired." Ron explained carefully.

"Dear me. Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy?" Dumbledore said, shaking his head, though his lips seemed to be quivering with laughter. I wasn't sure though, his beard covered it up.

"Sword?" Lockhart asked, looking around. "Haven't got a sword. That boy has, though. He'll lend you one." He said, pointing to Harry.

Snape coughed, covering his laugh.

"Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary too? I'd like a few more words with Harry. . . Elizabeth, when exactly will this exciting thing happen?"

I sighed in disappointment. "I guess I won't be able to see it except in my mind." I got up, stumbled, and grabbed Snape's arm. "Shame. See ya, Harry."

"Actually, Elizabeth." Dumbledore said. "Could you come back in, oh six minutes. I do have a question for you."

Snape helped me out and we stood in the hallway for six minutes and then, I went back in, once again, with Professor Snape.

"-while I write to Azkaban- we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too. We'll be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. . . unless Elizabeth, you might already know who we'll be hiring?"

Harry shot me a peculiar look. I looked at Dumbledore. "Yes sir. His name is Remus Lupin."

"What?" Snape hissed. "You're going to hire him?"

I glanced up at him, not at all perturbed by this reaction. "I understand the concerns with hiring him, Professor, but if you were to put the ad in the paper, he'll be the one who responds and I figured I would save you the trouble of putting an ad in the paper. I can foresee him being a success too."

Dumbledore nodded happily but at that moment, the door slammed open. The door bounced back off the wall. Harry and I, standing shoulder to shoulder, turned around to see what was happening. A smile grew over my face. Show time.

Lucius Malfoy stood there, looking furious. Dobby was cowering behind his legs, carrying a stained rag. Malfoy's shoes were half-polished and his normally sleek hair was disheveled. I smirked.

He stormed past the two of us, knocking into us. I stepped back onto my bad ankle. I could only be glad that Professor Snape was behind me. He caught me before I fell completely, helping me stand again. He bent and whispered, "Was this what you wanted to see?"

I nodded, not daring to say anything. Lucius hadn't seemed to have seen Severus, standing in the shadows. He was too preoccupied with Dumbledore. How had he even gotten on school premises?

"So!" Lucius yelled furiously. "You've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."

"Well, you see, Lucius, the other eleven governors contacted me today." Professor Dumbledore was smiling amiably but he sounded like he was talking to a little boy. "It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too. . . Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

I snorted. Lucius went pale and Snape put a cautious hand on my shoulder.

"So- have you stopped the attacks yet? Have you caught the culprit?" Lucius demanded.

"We have." Dumbledore said with a smile.

"Well?" Who is it?"

I very nearly said 'you' but I knew how things needed to play out so I kept my mouth shut.

"The same person as last time, Lucius. But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary." He held up the black diary, and I studied Malfoy closely. He paled ever further. I realized Snape's hand was tighter than before.

"I see. . ." Malfoy said slowly.

"A clever plan." Dumbledore said in a calm voice, still staring into Malfoy's eyes. "Because if Harry here-" Lucius shot Harry a swift look- "And his friends Ron and Elizabeth here-" Lucius looked at me and narrowed his eyes. Snape's hand was even tighter now "-hadn't discovered this book, why- Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will. . .And imagine, what might have happened then. . . The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing Muggle-borns. . . Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise. . ."

"Very fortunate." Malfoy said stiffly.

"Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry asked very suddenly.

Lucius rounded on him. "How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" He sneered.

"Because you gave it to her." I answered for him. His eyes shifted to me. I looked at him calmly. "In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her Transfiguration book and slipped it inside."

"Prove it." He hissed, taking a step towards me. Snape's hand became even- if possible- tighter.

"Oh, no one will be able to do that." Dumbledore said, smiling at both Harry and I now. I suppose he was proud of us for figuring it out. "Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you. . ."

I openly grinned. Lucius' right hand twitched. Then he said, "We're going, Dobby!"

"Don't trip on the way out." I said quietly, not looking at him.

He froze. "I knew it was you!" He hissed furiously at me. He stepped towards me, his hand flying to his wand. Dumbledore was out of his seat in a flash, but Professor Snape was there first, moving from behind me to in front of me.

"Lucius." Snape said in a dangerous voice. "Think before you act."

"Severus." Lucius replied coldly and then turned and stalked off down the hallway.

"Harry." I said quickly. I hurried over and whispered in his ear.

Harry grinned and said, "Dumbledore, could I give the diary back to Mr. Malfoy?"

"Certainly, Harry. But hurry, The feast, remember. . ." Harry dashed from the room. Dumbledore turned to me. "Now, Miss Kane. I would very much be relieved if you would go to the Hospital wing and get your ankle fixed. Severus."

"Certainly" Snape said and led me out of the room. Once he closed McGonagall's door, he scooped me up in his arms. My heart thudded in my chest so loudly, I thought perhaps he could hear it and a thrill raced through my chest.

"This is becoming a habit Elizabeth." He said as I rested my head on his shoulder.

"That's okay." I said much more honestly than I had meant to. "But I would like to know something."

"And what's that?" Snape asked as he started up the stairs.

"How did you react when I locked you all in the teachers' room?"

"I didn't react at all." Snape said stiffly.

"Mm." I said, amused. "That's not what Harry said."

Snape's faced reddened. "He saw that fiasco?"

"Yes." I said, delighted. "Nice to know you do care about someone, isn't it?"

Snape's hands were tightened. "You're treading dangerous territory now."

"Perhaps." I whispered. "As long as you always care, I don't think I'll mind much."

I closed my eyes and nothing more was said until we got to the hospital wing. But Professor Snape didn't open the door right away.

"Elizabeth." He said in a strained voice. "I can't-"

"Stop." I whispered. "It doesn't matter and don't say what you were going to say."

I slipped down from his arms and smiled half-heartedly. I opened the hospital door and then paused, turned around, and said, "Thank you for the flower necklace by the way. It was my favorite Christmas present."

Then I closed the door and let Madam Pomfrey take care of me.

.💚💚.

𝕴 𝖏𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 feast around a quarter to three. My ankle was all healed, my scar on my face was healing nicely, and I was dry.

I stopped by the Hufflepuff table to say hello to Justin. All the Hufflepuffs greeted me nicely. I had after all, secured second place with my two hundred points. They all wanted to know what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets. I basically told them the truth- which was Harry had done everything- but I was still treated like some big hero.

The best part about the Hufflepuffs was Ced coming over and saying, "I'm glad your not dead Liz." and clapping me on the shoulder.

"Gee, thanks Ced." I said, laughing.

Cedric gave me a hug which made me receive jealous glares from other female Hufflepuffs. Then he made me tell him the story in detail. I obliged, telling it as it had been and he seemed impressed for some reason I couldn't fathom. I would've liked to have kept talking to him all night. However, I soon made my way over to the Gryffindor table. Hermione was the first person that I hugged. Then, I found Ginny and hugged her.

Fred yelled for me to come join him and I held up my finger for him to wait a moment. I sat down with Harry and Ron.

We were eating when Harry asked, "Elizabeth, how come the teachers were always asking you to come to Dumbledore's office?"

I sighed. "I suppose it's about time that I tell you that I can see the future."

Harry and Ron looked at me for a long time. "Wait, are you serious?" Harry asked slowly.

"Well somewhat." I corrected. "I get visions of what might possibly happen. Like for instance, when Dumbledore asked for the new DADA professor. I could look into next year and see what was happening. Or like how I know that Hagrid is going to show up at half past three."

"I can't believe you kept that a secret from us!" Ron exclaimed. "We are supposed to be friends after all!"

I blushed. "Well, when people know that I know the future, they start asking all sorts of ridiculous questions. I mean, the teachers always thought I had the answers- didn't they?"

"Fair enough." Harry said. "I just hope that you're right about Hagrid."

As it turned out, I was correct. Hagrid came in and approached us. He clapped Harry and Ron on the back, knocking them into plates of trifle. I laughed out loud.

"You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?" Ron asked, wiping trifle off his face. I grinned but said nothing and got up and went over to sit next to Fred.

.💚💚.

𝕴 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 rest of my time at Hogwarts in the Forest, either with Hagrid or Firenze. I was avoiding the castle because Snape had been trying to talk to me. Word had also gotten around that Elizabeth Kane had futuristic visions and people were asking me all sorts of questions.

Hagrid on the other hand, enjoyed my company for my company and nothing else. I had done a couple of dragon sketches which he now had in his house.

"Guess what?" I said, one afternoon as we tramped through the forest. Hagrid was looking for any trees that might have fungus or such.

"Wha's that?" He asked cheerfully.

"Professor Dumbledore will need a new Care of Magical Creatures Professor next year." I said slowly, checking a berry plant for fungus. It looked perfectly fine. "How much do you want to bet he's going to ask you to be the Professor?"

Hagrid looked at me cautiously, "Now, don' play with meh, Elizabeth."

I tapped the side of my head and continued walking.

"Really now? Me? A Professor?" Hagrid said, looking up at the trees, looking for Bowtruckles.

"Well, at least..." I teased. "That's what I'm foreseeing!"

Hagrid remained skeptical, but continued to smile. I knew that he was excited, that he was hoping I was saying the truth. And I was and I was glad that I was.

"Keep it a secret though." I said, pruning a tree limb that had silverweed. "Everyone else gets to know next year, okay?"

"Sure, sure." Hagrid said.

.💚💚.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 we were supposed to leave on the train, I was out in the forest, getting a few last sketches in when Firenze approached.

"Elizabeth Kane." He greeted me and I jumped down out of the tree.

"Hullo Firenze!" I said cheerfully. "I was going to come find you sometime soon. You always seem to find me so quickly though."

"Yes, one only has to look up to find you though." Firenze said, smiling. "I've heard strange stories through the forest about the school. Perhaps you would enlighten me about your adventure?"

I told it the way I had told it before, though I did not omit details. Every word that had passed between Riddle, Harry, and I were shared. Every moment, from being thrown with the wand to falling into the water bed to the duel was shared.

Firenze was a patient listener and so he did not interrupt as I spoke. It took about ten or so minutes to explain everything and he was silent for a long time as we walked afterwards.

"Hmm." He finally said. "yes, you were quite reckless, weren't you?"

"Perhaps I wasn't thinking properly." I said honestly.

"Yet, I believe you played an important part in the future, don't you think?" Firenze asked. He had an unusual mischievous smile on his face and I frowned.

"You know about my visions now, don't you?" I smarted a little.

"A little bird told me." Firenze said, amused, stepping over a log with his four legs. His blond hair was a bit longer and flew away from his face in the light breeze.

"Hagrid?" I asked.

"Yes, Hagrid." Firenze admitted, helping me over the log.

"Can you talk to birds?" I asked, interested.

Firenze let out his laugh that I loved so much. "Indeed! We Centaurs can talk to any creature if we listen hard enough!"

I sighed, a bit put out. "I suppose I should've expected an answer like that."

His sapphire eyes gleamed. "Now, Elizabeth, my turn for a question."

I waited patiently as he thought about how he was going to put his words.

"Perhaps you could explain your motivation."

I frowned. "What motivation?"

Firenze snorted, sounding more horse-like than ever. "And I thought you were intelligent! Well, if I must put it out so plain for you." He's joking and I know he is because he's smiling with his eyes, not just his mouth. "Just because I live in a forest doesn't mean I don't know the comings and goings at the school. The teachers love you because you are a hard-working student with the highest grades. And yet, you don't stop learning in the class. You ask for private lessons, you read extra textbooks, you even risk your life to come into the forest day and night to learn from us Centaurs. Now, I must ask, why? No student that has ever passed through those doors has ever done what you do. Not even Dumbledore, and I admire him greatly"

I paused. Well, naturally I'd wanted to do well at Hogwarts. Everything in my life had seemed a bit easy, like I had a cheat sheet in my brain. I had always known that I had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. I wanted to know everything. But had really no one else done so? No other student had asked for private lessons? I could believe in me being the first student to converse with the Centaurs. But really?

Firenze was right of course. Hermione had stopped at just the classes- though occasionally an extra book. So, why wasn't I satisfied with that as well? I certainly wasn't better than Hermione.

I opened my mouth to answer and then closed it. The fact of the matter was that I simply didn't know. And so, this is what I told Firenze.

Firenze seemed a bit put out by this answer, "You don't know? You work this hard for no reason whatsoever?"

When put that way. . .

"Well..." I started slowly, gathering the right words. "Perhaps I want to know more than everyone else because I feel that I need to know more, if you get my drift. My father... well, he's a werewolf and it's my dream to make a cure for him. Not just him, of course, but I would like to start with him. Of course, I feel that if I don't learn more than what's in the class, perhaps I'll miss something, something crucial that could only be learned here, in the forest, or in a private lesson that a teacher wouldn't normally teach in class. I may not remember everything I learn, but I can remember most of it."

Firenze did not speak for a long, long time. When he spoke, the question he asked was quite unrelated, "You are adopted then?"

"Well, yes. But can werewolves not have their own children?" I asked curiously, remembering what Riddle had said in the Chamber. "Biologically, I mean."

Firenze was quiet for a moment, thinking. "They can." he finally said. "My knowledge is limited on werewolves but it has been seen that not many marry and have kids. Though, from occurrences that have been heard of, no kid born of a werewolf and non werewolf has ever had the curse."

"What are werewolf cubs?" I asked. If Firenze could provide an answer I would never have to asked Dad.

"If two werewolves meet and mate at the full moon -a highly unlikely contingency which is known to have occurred only twice (though of course it's possible there are more)- the result of the mating will be wolf cubs which resemble true wolves in everything except their abnormally high intelligence." Firenze said, stepping over a little yellow flower. "They are not more aggressive than normal wolves and do not single out humans for attack. Such a litter was once set free, under conditions of extreme secrecy, in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, with the kind permission of Albus Dumbledore." Firenze tacked on.

"Huh." I said. "They sound cute."

Firenze chuckled. "Perhaps, but back to my original point. Who were your parents, Elizabeth Kane?"

"I thought you knew." I muttered, looking away. "In the forest last year, I thought perhaps you'd picked it up."

"That you're the Potter boys' sister?" Firenze asked. "Well, I had come to the assumption, but I don't like to be solidly based on assumptions."

We walked in silence.

"He doesn't know, does he."

It was a statement, not a question.

"No one does." I whispered.

More silence.

"That's why your so sad when you're with him." Firenze stated, stopping and turning to look at me.

"I'm not sad when I'm with him!" I exclaimed.

Firenze stared at me for a long moment and said nothing else about the subject and started to talk about the creatures that existed farther in the deep forest. I responded with half-hearted questions and eventually said good-bye and that I would see him next year.

.💚💚.

𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖉 𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖉 all my things up and was waiting with the other students for the train. Ginny came up behind me. "Hullo Ginny!" I greeted her cheerfully. The conversation with Firenze was still fresh in my mind and I quickly pushed it away.

"Hello Eliza." Ginny said. She had taken to this nickname and I quite liked it. "I have been meaning to talk to you."

"Alright." I said, "What's up?"

"We haven't really talked about. . ." she hesitated. ". . .the er- other night."

"What about it?" I asked, frowning.

"Do you really believe that everything that happened was your fault?" She asked, staring into my eyes. I flinched.

"Mostly." I finally said. "I feel responsible at least."

"You shouldn't." Ginny said.

I hesitated and then said, "Ginny, I really am sorry."

"I know." she said simply. "But it wouldn't have mattered if you had been there or not. And you were there, whether you knew it or not. I still would've written in the. . . the diary and I still would've. . . would've. . ."

"Alright, fine." I said with a roll of my eyes but I didn't want her to feel that she had to explain herself. "I no longer feel guilty, happy?"

Ginny giggled. "Sure Eliza, sure."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione came up behind us.

I yawned.

"Tired?" Harry asked.

"I took a nice long walk in the forest yesterday." I said, stretching. "But I might've stayed out to late."

This was a lie. I had spent a bit of the night pacing back and forth in front of the Potions classroom door, seeing if I should say good-bye to Professor Snape. However, since I wasn't going to be doing this to any other Professor and since I was going to see him next year, it had felt awkward and I slipped away back to the dorm. But I wasn't going to tell them that.

The train pulled up and staff members came out to help those who needed help with luggage. We climbed aboard and we found an empty carriage and I sat down gingerly by the window.

Fred and George joined us and we played Exploding Snap, set off some fireworks, and also practiced disarming people. Harry was quite good at this particular spell.

We were getting ready as the train started to slow down when Harry suddenly asked, "Ginny- what did you see Percy doing, that he didn't want you to tell anyone?"

Ginny and I giggled. "Oh that." She said. "Well- Percy's got a girlfriend."

Fred dropped a stack of books on George's head, making me laugh harder. "What?"

"It's that Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater. That's who he was writing to all last summer. He's been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in one them kissing in an empty classroom one day. He was so upset when she was- you know- attacked. You won't tease him, will you?" She finished off anxiously.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Fred said who looked as though summer break had been extended by a few more months.

"Definitely not." George said, sniggering gleefully.

The train slowed down and completely stopped. Fred, George, and Ginny grabbed their luggage and left. Fred winked at me as he ducked out the door. Harry pulled out his quill and a piece of parchment. He wrote down some numbers three times and ripped the parchment up.

Speaking, mostly to Ron, he said, "This is called a telephone number. I told your dad how to use a telephone last summer- he'll know. Call me at the Dursleys', okay? I can't stand another two months with only Dudley to talk to. . ."

Dudley was our cousin. I'd never met him, of course, though I'd caught a glimpse of the fat boy last year. I wasn't particularly pleased to be related to such a pig, but family was family so I didn't try to think about it to much.

"Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won't they?" Hermione asked as I put the piece of parchment into my jean pocket. (we'd already changed into Muggle clothing). "When they hear what you did this year?"

"Proud!" Harry scoffed, but he was laughing. "Are you crazy? All those times I could've died, and I didn't manage it? They'll be furious."

We all laughed and together, we walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world. 

⬅️➡️

[romanceandshenanigans]

6. What topic would you love to explore in your writing?

7. Who is the OC that is most like you?

8. Which OC is nothing like you?

6. What topic would you love to explore in your writing?

I feel like an arc that crops up more often than not is a character realizing that the love given to them by others is real and that they are deserving of it. I often end up writing at least one character who for whatever reason doesn't think they deserve love; whether it's through some past action or inaction or simply because society has told them again, and again they feel deep in their guts that they are not worthy. So, when another character expresses love towards them, they don't believe it. Some part of them cannot fathom the idea that somebody else could possibly care for them because why would they?

I know for myself I struggle with this so having a way to explore that feeling and have the character realize by the end that they deserve love for no other reason than the fact they are alive is everything to me. It's something I think we all need reminding of now and again.

7. Who is the OC that is most like you?

I'm of the firm belief that every OC has at least a little bit of the author in them. You write what you know and while you can try to learn and experience many different things, at the end of the day they're filtered through your own understanding of the world.

That preamble out of the way of all my OCs, likely my Stranger Things OC Lucy is the closest. We were both theater kids in high school, kind of the odd ones out of our friend group and just trying to find the place where we don't feel like the spare. However, Lucy is much braver than I was and has a clearer understanding of herself and what she wants than I did at sixteen. She's also just so much nicer.

Of the OCs in my current WIP, probably Gwen. I'll explore her emotional issues in a later books, but an asexual who has more or less come to terms with the fact her life is going to be different from what society expects of her is something very cathartic to write about.

8. Which OC is nothing like you?

See preamble above, every OC has a little bit of the author inside them. However, of my current OCs I'd say Felicity who I plan to make one of Thomas' love interest in the next book is very different from me. Still has some similar emotional issues, but a much smoother operator and sure of herself. I could never.

Writer Ask Game

[playedbetter]

Kento & Smoking

Since he was eighteen Kento has been a smoker, buying cigarettes off of other members of Murkywater, one of the few things he uses his paycheck for. He smokes semi regularly, about ten cigarettes a day.

It's a choice he's justified as being the least harmful way of coping with the stress of being a mercenary officially since the day he was eighteen, and unofficially since he was sixteen. It was not liked at all by The Dentist, but it was something hard to stop.

Deep down, it's his one act of rebellion against The Dentist. A middle finger to the man who first introduced himself to Kento as his childhood dentist, who had ensured that Kento had uncannily perfect teeth, and had controlled every other aspect of Kento's life, body, and identity.

Kento couldn't fathom freedom, but he could stain his teeth, and hope for an early death. That at least took off the edge of the itch of rebellion.

[unchainedorchid]

A glimpse of the past.

Suffering, pain, grief — Odette understood it well, etched into her mother’s sorrowful eyes. She witnessed the malevolent man’s cruelty, a relentless stoning of her mother’s spirit, with Odette herself sometimes falling prey to his wickedness. The idea of escaping the city, fleeing to the countryside with her aunt, just the two of them, was a wish Odette had whispered to her mother countless times. Her mother’s response was always the same — she couldn’t leave. Odette couldn’t fathom her mother’s reasons, but she knew one thing for sure; she would stand her ground to keep her safe.

The inevitable hand of fate, cruel and unrelenting, swept through their lives when Odette was just sixteen. Odette lost the person she loved most to a merciless illness. The constant financial struggles made it impossible to get her the help she desperately needed. Even in her mother’s final moments, the man who should have fulfilled his responsibilities chose to remain absent. Odette laid the blame for her mother’s death squarely at his feet; it was he who had slowly, inexorably, taken her away.

One ominous night, Odette’s torment took a more sinister form. Her father, fueled by the poison of potent liquor, descended upon her with the intention of snuffing out her existence. The chilling grip of his hands tightened around her throat, and in the throes of despair she grasped whatever object her trembling hands could find, plunging it deep into the man’s chest.

There was no outcry, no plea for mercy, only a sudden stillness, and the next breath she took revealed that her father had met his demise in her hands. Odette was left with the lifeless body of the man who had been the source of her torment for years.

She had taken a life to preserve her own.

What was this sensation? Odette could not put it into words, could not wrap her mind around it. She was not found guilty; the law, too. She had been granted an unexpected reprieve, a pardon she had not sought, but she knew now, she was free. Free from the shackles that had bound her in the twisted form of a father.

Blood still clung to her hands, an indelible stain on her soul. But regret? That emotion was a phantom. If the sands of time could rewind, she’d seize that moment again, unflinchingly.

In the silence that ensued, she gazed at her bloodied hands, contemplating her mother’s eyes, her mother’s love.

“Mom,” she whispered into the silent night, hands still trembling from the deed she had done. “Do you forgive your daughter, whose hands are forever marked by the crimson of vengeance? In freeing myself, have I become a survivor.. or a monster?”

With no one left to care for her, her aunt, Julie, took Odette to the countryside. And there, under the open skies, amidst the rolling meadows and whispering trees, Odette began to breathe again.

A story written in anguish and rewritten with the ink of survival, a chapter of love, torment, and an unexpected redemption, where the hands that had once been stained in blood were now reaching out to embrace the fragile, hopeful threads of a new beginning.

Odette questioned if she could ever find her own redemption, if the love she so ardently sought could bloom from the shadow of the unspeakable act she had committed.

[lonchaneyjr]

Lon Chaney Jr. (as Creighton Chaney) in Sixteen Fathoms Deep (1934)

[britcision]

The thing about saying “a fathom is six feet deep” is that it makes fathoms feel small; people can be six feet tall

That’s because you’re thinking about water like it’s air; like just the height is what matters, which is why being reminded of the pressure is such a mind blowing moment

Water is heavy

One cubic foot of water is 62 pounds (28kg for my metric buds but we’re sticking with feet cuz the numbers are more satisfying)

That’s as much as a fully grown Labrador

One fathom weighs about as much as six dogs

It’ll move around you, sure, while you’re near the surface and there’s easy space for it to move to

But the more water you stack on top means less space for the water around you to move, which is why the pressure increases so quickly

Thirty feet under water, the atmospheric pressure doubles

For the opposite equation, to get to half the regular atmospheric pressure, you need to go 18 000 feet above sea level

Two fathoms being twelve feet feels much larger than one fathom being six feet, because human brains aren’t great with numbers and relativity

Six feet - not deep, no worries

Twelve feet - deeper than most community pools, which top out around eight to ten feet. Remember diving to the bottom of a pool as a kid? Struggling to make it just up and down?

Sixteen feet - Olympic diving pools. This is five meters deep, and you’re not even at three fathoms yet.

Eighteen feet - three fathoms; only two feet away from an average two storey building

Thirty feet - five fathoms, a three storey building, and twice as much atmospheric pressure trying to compress into your space

Six feet of water doesn’t sound all that deep while you’re sat on the surface, but the thing all those sailors know is that it’s a lot further when it’s between you and the surface

I spent so much of my life romanticizing the Great and Powerful Enormity of the Sea, reading about the salt and the sweat of the sailors straining to haul the sails or anchor while dreading the monsters in the cold, icy deep fathoms below…and now you tell me that a fathom is only 6 feet deep -

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Midnight Blades {8}

Aemond Targaryen x princess!reader (Dark!themes) Summary: Messes and mistakes made in the heat of the moment come back to haunt you. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, murder, violence, dark!Aemond has returned, sexual threats WC: 2372

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Part Nine || Part Ten || Part Eleven || Part Twelve || Part Thirteen || Part Fourteen || Part Fifteen || Part Sixteen || Part Seventeen || Part Eighteen || Part Nineteen || Part Twenty ||

“Try to distract me as much as you please,” you growled across the table to where your husband sat, “but I will see my soldiers one way or another.”

You no longer had an appetite to break your fast and pushed the platter of cold carved meat away. Aemond dragged the plate to himself and piled it high onto a fresh loaf of bread and you couldn’t fathom where he put it all. 

“If I were trying to distract you, we would be in our chambers otherwise engaged in far more erotic activities instead of arguing. This is hardly an enjoyable part of my morning, no matter how often we repeat it.”

“Then escort me to the camp and we shall be done with this argument once and for all,” you countered, his lips pressing in a firm line and his knife threatening to bend under his grip. “The King is your brother, can you not petition for your wife?”

Aemond’s hand slammed the table, embedding the knife deep into the grain. “What my brother would ask in return for such a favour is not something I could give him.”

“What…” your words trailed off as you caught the haunted look in his eye. “Oh.”

“The people may believe I am the monster within these walls, but my mother and father protected Aegon from any such scrutiny.” 

Resisting the urge to press for more information, you mulled over what he had already given you as you nibbled on a cracker. After another helping of cold cuts, Aemond rose and narrowed his eye at the untouched food on your plate but kept his comments to himself, not wishing to invite himself to another argument so soon. 

“If you are not distracting me in the Keep, what is your plan for me today?” you asked as he pulled your chair out and offered his hand. 

“My sister has found herself without a companion for her walk through the gardens.”

You could surmise it was because the court ladies found the Queen quite strange and used any excuse to avoid the daily walks. It didn’t help that the Queen often stopped to collect all manner of strange creatures to converse with along the way. 

Aemond parted ways with an amused smirk and a sarcastic bow outside Helaena’s receiving room, the door doing nothing to dampen the loud cries of spoiled children fighting within. The guards seemed immune to the noise or at least accustomed to hearing it each day and you clenched your fist from giving their prince a vulgar gesture as he left. 

You would much rather spend the day training with him, or at least watching him spar with Ser Criston before retiring for the afternoon in the library. But, the opportunity to be alone with the Queen did have its own merits and you were planning to use it to your advantage.

“Look at the pretty sparrow,” Helaena drawled softly as she stared at the large Weirwood tree. “She’s building her nest.” You narrowed your eyes trying to spot the small bird but with the thick red leaves kept the branches from your sight. “Her children will fly too.”

You rolled your eyes at the obvious statement and plucked a blade of grass from where you sat. Wishing the sun to descend faster, you tried a different strategy and hoped to prompt a useful foretelling from the soothsayer. “As fascinating as bird life is, what news have you from the worms?”

Helaena frowned and the half dazed look in her eyes cleared with a shake of her head. “Worms can’t talk.”

“Of course not,” you muttered to yourself before noticing her cheeks turning pink. “It may be time to retire, your grace, Solaris is quite fierce today.” 

“You mustn’t mention the false gods here,” Helaena whispered as she looked around the empty garden before something she spied stole her fluttering attention. Darting off with a billow of her skirts, the Queen sashayed across the path, dancing to a song only she could hear and you hefted yourself from the ground to follow. Perhaps Ser Negan was correct. 

You were exhausted when you finally found yourself climbing the stairs back to your chambers. The hours had quickly passed after reuniting Helaena with her children, you had been enthralled by a tome filled with the history of the dragons and their riders. Such recounts had been destroyed during the purges in Essos so it was intriguing to find the succinct but seemingly accurate book at your fingertips.

It was only when the light grew too dim to continue reading, and the wall sconces couldn’t provide the necessary light, that you left. 

“What is this?” you asked Brinna. The whale bone corset that rested beside the dress prepared for the evening meal was an oddity, something that wasn’t generally worn in the Red Keep. You ran your fingers across the hard boning that aimed to hold the body into shape with a restrictive nature. 

“A gift from Alicent,” Brinna admitted, flinching as your lip curled. “It is to celebrate the Seven at the feast, tonight is for The Mother - after passing the full moon.”

The room lilted and your legs felt unsteady as you dropped the corset and rushed to the window, casting the curtains aside to see the waning moon glowing above the dark horizon, your hands shaking at the sight. Laughter drifted on the breeze from somewhere in the Keep but it felt like a personal message from the stars, that they had abandoned you.

“It can’t be.” Your throat constricted as you opened your trunk and found the linen strips ready and waiting for your monthly cycle. The clean rags taunted you as your mind raced through the last moon cycle and a string of expletives dark, enough to make Brinna blush, tumbled from your lips.

“Ah, I always wondered how ladies of the court spoke when unsupervised,” Aemond announced his arrival with an amused tone. 

“You fucking prick!” you hissed as you grabbed Midnight’s handle from inside the trunk and turned on him. “You and your fucking prick are to be removed from one another.”

The amused smile dropped at the acidic anger in your voice, his own fist curling around his dagger. “That time of the cycle is it, love? What have I done now? Pray tell.”

A scream of pure rage tore from your throat and you swore an echo of it thundered from the Dragon Pit far across the city. “I am with child, and to a fucking Targaryen.”

Aemond’s hand fell limp from the pommel and his lips parted, “Do not jest.”

“Do I look like I am jesting?” you asked as you pressed your blade to his throat, and he made no attempt at stopping you. “And, your meddling bitch of a mother already knows. I bet she was the one who tampered with my tea.” 

His eye flashed with hurt but it was quickly followed by anger and he wrapped his hand around your blade, unflinching as it cut his palm as he pulled it away and threw it at the brick wall. He closed the distance and caught your jaw in his bloody hand, squeezing your cheeks together and silencing your complaint as he spat,  “Lying bitch, I should have fucking chained you to the bed.”

He thought back to the nights you would often take tea, how you told him it was a herbal diffusion to aid with restful sleep, and he laughed humorlessly. It had not come from the maesters so he had not thought anything of it, he had even occasionally poured the steeped liquid into your cup and passed it to you. He felt like a fool.

He pushed your head away and your neck protested the shove but you let the rage blind you to the pain. “You propositioned me, Aemond! You forced this marriage upon me to breed me like a prized mare so you could have an army at your disposal, but there was no clause stating I could not take contraception.”

Aemond looked at Brinna who was trying to ease into the shadows but the movement only brought his attention to her and he unsheathed his sword. “If anything happens to our child, princess, I will have the city guard sweep through your beloved camp and bring me the head of every last soldier. For now, I shall take that of the one who delayed this.”

You couldn’t move fast enough and Midnight was too far away, the sapphire pommel shattered on the ground beside it. There was nothing you could do as he swung the long sword, severed Brinna’s head from her body. The wet thud turned your stomach and you trembled as her head came to a stop before you, the silent scream frozen on her terrified face.

Brinna’s blood seeped into the hem of your dress and you looked away as the metallic scent permeated the air, turning your blurred vision to Aemond as he wiped his blade clean on his cloak. “The people are right, you are the fucking monster in this place.”

“Don’t forget it, my love,” he sneered at you before sheathing his sword and throwing the door open to address the guards. “My wife is not to leave her chambers unless I permit it, understood?”

“Yes, Prince Aemond,” they answered, their eyes widening at the sight of Brinna’s body soiling the stone. “Shall we call for your mother?”

“No need,” Aemond growled as he stalked out of the room, “I am to have words with her now.”

“Eat,” Alicent begged, if begging was something she could do, mayhaps it was gentle ordering. “You must eat for the babe.”

The stone floor was still stained red from Brinna’s lifeblood, the stone that Alicent now stood with her hands gesturing to the table laden with food. The blood had filled the cracks and crevices so no matter how hard the maids scrubbed it would not erase the evidence of what transpired.

You turned your nose up at the food and returned to watching over the city from the bay window. “I will eat when I am no longer a prisoner.”

“You are a smart woman,” Alicent said with a tone that negated the compliment, “did you not think my son would find out your treachery?”

“Not that you give two shits, apologies, not that you truly care, but a child was inevitable.” You turned to face her as you closed the book on your lap. “Surely as a mother you could understand the want to save a child from this looming conflict, mothers and babes are but pawns to be used in the game of Kings and Queens. I would have done my duty, there was no need to tamper with my tea.”

Alicent’s brows pinched together and her lips parted twice before she gave a short laugh. “You think this was my fault? Good gracious, dear, you hold me in too high esteem. I did not know, suspected, but did not know for certain you were taking anything until my son came to me. Whatever the fault, it was not of my doing.”

“You gifted me a corset to hide a growing belly, you knew I was with child.”

Alicent shrugged and offered a small smile. “I make it my duty to know when a lady in my court is late for her cycle. It was a precautionary gift.”

The silence of the room only exasperated the thumping of your heart as you failed to sense the lie, or perhaps she was just that clever. Unwilling to let her see how affected you were, you busied your hands trying to find your last page and let her stand rigidly in place. After a moment she realised there was not going to be any headway made this day and turned to the door.

Your head whipped around as you heard raised voices on the other side and Alicent raced to intercept the brothers quarrelling in the hall. Discarding the book, your fingers curled around the blade tucked into your boot and prepared to face your husband for the first time since he had you locked away twelve sun cycles ago.

“She already has one Targaryen in her, what’s another?” Aegon asked callously, his words slurred. “Come now, brother, you owe me for opening your eyes to the pleasure a whore can give. You can repay me by sharing yours.”

Whatever response Aemond had for Aegon was too quiet to hear with the killing calm that you were familiar with but the thump on the door that followed made you both jump. Alicent tore the door open and Aegon stumbled through, falling to the floor at her feet as Aemond pushed past and knelt at his head. 

Aemond had forgone the control he used to keep tightly leased and you hated that your body reacted to him, even after making a prisoner of you. 

“Aegon!” Alicent gasped at the sight of her sons’ state. “Aemond!”

“I just want to have a little fun,” Aegon groaned. “It’s not like you're using her.”

Aemond ignored his mother and grabbed a handful of Aegon’s wild hair, turning the king’s head to face him. “King or not, brother or not, there will be no hole deep and dark enough for you to crawl to escape what I will do to you. She. Is. Mine.”

Click here for Part Nine.

Taglist: @hopebaker , @xcharlottemikaelsonx , @mariamyousef702 , @marrianena

[cosmetichorror]

Sneakpeak of a rewrite I’m doing!

So I hated how “too old for this” was coming out, so I’m rewriting it! Here’s a sneakpeak

————

His breathing was as steady as it could be, and he kept his eyes focused on this party of eight. How in Dins name did they all get up here? The youngest appears to be fourteen, and the oldest can’t be any older then thirty. Overall a rather young group, maybe just an adventurous family looking for some thrill? But the one in heavy armor said they’re close. Close to what, exactly? Are they looking for something? Or perhaps, someone?

He narrows his eyes as he examines them all. Three of them are wearing vibrant blue, the youngest is one of them. He has short blond hair, and his tunic is bright blue with white embroidery of a lobster. Distantly, he recalls seeing a similar tunic somewhere. He’ll need to look through his chest of old clothes he got during his journey to see if he can find it.

The other young one of them has a multicolored tunic with a patch of blue on it, but it’s a deeper shade then the classic royal family blue. He looks rather short, but his face looks like that of a teen. Perhaps around sixteen to nineteen?

The last one is wearing a deep blue scarf that almost works as a cape, with golden embroidery at the end. He knows he can’t gatekeep the color blue, but hylians don’t wear that vibrant of a shade except for Zelda and him! It just seems so out of place to him, and he can’t put his finger on why.

It could be that a bright blue is the color of the royal family, and even now most people respect that. If you dye your clothes bright blue, you get weird and judgmental stares (unless you’re wearing gerudo clothes, in which case people don’t seem to mind) he knows he got a lot of them when he dyed his clothes bright blue, even if they weren’t the exact shade of the royal family. And oh boy, the angry looks he got when he regained his champion tunic! Without the mastersword, no one knew he was the hero. All they saw was some scrawny kid dressed up as a dead champion. He even got a few comments about him being disrespectful, even though he couldn’t fathom how he was being rude at the time. Now, he understands.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Verboten - Chapter Twenty Eight.

My loves! I am so sorry this has taken me 900 years to update, haha! But here we are, the last chapter is here! I do hope you enjoy it and I want to extend my thanks to everyone for their loyal readership. I appreciate you all more than you could ever know xx 

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four  Twenty Five  Twenty Six  Twenty Seven

Visuals - The Verboten cast of characters post

Words - 2,391

Warnings - None

Tag list - In the comments! To be added/removed, please DM me :)

“I never expect you to forgive me, for what I did, you know.”

Ella almost laughed, making a small noise in the back of her throat. “So, we’re going straight into it, then? No pleasantries, just missile directiveness. You’ve picked that up from your man.”  

She sounded cool, a little entertained as well to begin with, but the mention of Tyler made something crack a little in her voice, despite her smile remaining in place. Ella didn’t mean for it to unnerve Zoey either, but it did.  

“Yeah, yeah I kinda have. He gets frustrated when I beat around the bush.”

“I remember that, yeah. Prevarication lights his fuse.” She smiled, obviously thinking back to times when she’d been hesitant with her very direct ex-husband, who couldn’t bear when people meandered around their words. “Anyway, you were saying?”

“I don’t expect forgiveness for how much I hurt you. All I want from you is an apology for not telling me about when he was shot, because no matter how terrible a sister I was to you, and I was, I know I was, shagging your husband behind your back, I didn’t deserve that. I could have lost him and not been there, Ella. That would have destroyed me.”

“Which was, if I’m honest, exactly what I wanted at the time, I think. You’re right, too. I was wrong. Hugely wrong not to put our feud aside and let you know. I apologise for that, and I would have done so without you prompting it, because I realise my fault there.”

She paused, looking out at the playground, where two chattering mothers with their thermos mugs had just arrived, their children running on ahead to the swings. She’d left hers all cuddled up on the sofa with Cami watching cartoons. “As for forgiving you, I think I could, maybe when a little more time has passed. Camille is really helping me there, processing the betrayal, but see, Zo, what I can’t get past is the fact that in my mind, no matter how much I love you, and I do, I can’t trust you.”  

It broke Zoey a little, to hear that. It was a break she knew she deserved to feel. Only so much could be mended here at their first meet. Her sister’s trust would likely be a long time in coming. “I want us to repair the damage, but trusting you again is where I fall short on being able to fathom how and where that begins. Okay, so we weren’t in a good place, I admit my faults in driving my husband away, but for you to welcome him into your bed? I just... it still makes me so upset!”  

Ella balled her fists and softly thudded them against the bench, her jaw tight, tears prickling her eyes and eventually splashing her cheeks when she blinked, shaking her head and gasping into a deep breath. “What would you tell me to do, if it had been Cait or Fran who Tyler had the affair with?”

That was perhaps the last thing Zoey expected to be asked, the question throwing her through a huge loop. “I don’t know, I really don’t.”

“Try.” There it was, rearing up a little, a bit of Ella’s scary fire, that one word delivered through semi-gritted teeth.  

Taking a breath, Zoey attempted to remove herself from the situation, imagining being on the outside looking in. “I guess I’d tell you that it’s completely your call, how you handle the relationship going forward, and that the trust has to come back with taking small steps, if it ever will at all. Who knows? You might never trust me again, which I have to realistically expect might be the likely price I have to pay.”  

Her voice tremored there, Ella’s tears falling more too as she sniffed, suddenly shocking Zoey by reaching to grasp her hand. “I want to trust you again, I do. You’re my little button, but Christ! You hurt me so damn much!”  

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I just... my head told me to stop, screamed at me, but in the end, it was my heart. He... I just...”

“No, go on. It’s alright. You can tell me.” Wiping her eyes with her spare hand, Ella turned and nodded. “It’s okay.”

“I just fell so much in love with him. Being one of my best mates, we had that connection of thinking the other was awesome and loving each other’s company, and it was all of that, but amplified suddenly. Firstly, through sex and then, through love. I know I can’t justify breaking your heart or your trust either, I know that, but I just wanted you to maybe understand it, that it wasn’t this whim, that I did agonise over it.”

Ella sighed, nodding again. “How you looked at Christmas proves that to me, Zo. That’s something that Cami reminded me of, that if it wasn’t real love you felt for him then you wouldn’t have looked so frail in the wake of him ending your affair. That was the human personification of someone in agony. I’ve talked to her a lot about it, she’s been such a big help in seeing it isn’t just my feelings in all of this, even though I was the one who was ultimately wronged.  

“Look, I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up about it any longer. I’ve accepted that Tyler has moved on, with a girl who I think the bloody world of, trust with my kids, etc and not some dodgy bogan or something,” she began, both taking a moment to laugh as they composed their tears. “And I’ve moved on too, Cami and I might be early days but we’re really happy together. I’m leaving it a little while longer and then telling the kids too, I’m confident she’s here to stay. I want us to all move forward as a family, but like I said, trusting you is going to take some time.”

Zoey nodded, squeezing her hand. “Then take as much as you need. Just sitting here, talking, really talking to you while we hold hands is enough for me. It’s a massive step for both of us. Well, you mostly.”  

Ella smiled, nodding at her. “You too. I understand how after the way I spoke to you the time before last seeing you, how you likely came here with your heart in your mouth. I know how I can be, again, it’s something Cami is helping me with.”  

They sat in silence, both taking in the natural beauty of the park, basking in the early autumn glow as well as being reunited with one another. There was a long way to go, they both knew that, but as Ella suddenly rested her head to Zoey’s shoulder, the younger Hudson sibling reciprocating the gesture, they knew the first steps had been taken to mend. It wouldn’t happen overnight, but they were wise to that.  

“This feels nice,” Zoey commented, her fingers squeezing a little tighter on her sister’s.

“It does. Strange, yet familiar. Like, I’m still hurting and upset with you, but I’ve missed this so much that I can push it aside and just enjoy it, the peace, having my sister back. Everything else will come in time, if we work on it.”

“We will.”

That first reconnection made the sisters both feel renewed and positive, agreeing to meet up in two weeks from then with their other two sisters for brunch, knowing they both needed to begin returning to normality in order to get their relationship back on track. When she arrived back at his place, Tyler saw it in how she carried herself, like a physical weight had been lifted from her, the burden she’d carried within her at hurting her sister ever since their affair had first begun.  

“It went so much better than I expected it would,” she began, slipping her feet out of her shoes and taking a seat next to him on the sofa, Tyler welcoming her into his embrace on his good side. “We talked, she apologised for not telling me about the shooting, in turn I apologised again for my part in breaking up her marriage, and we’ve agreed to work on it.  

“She doesn’t know whether she can trust me again, though, which is fair enough. I don’t blame her for that. What I ended up with today was much more than I expected to get, we sat there and held hands, it was so nice. I guess working on our relationship means I have to prove myself to her, rebuild the broken bridge there.”  

He smiled, relieved it had all gone well. “I think it all went as well as anyone could have expected it to, probably better than anticipated, to be honest. The foundations are there, all you have to do now is slowly and carefully build.”  

It warmed him within, to imagine in his mind, the sisters sitting holding hands, some warmth beginning to thaw the frosty glacier that had driven itself between them, frozen by actions committed on both sides of the fallout. The sun was now beginning to shine once more, though, the ice melting, as he always hoped it would.  

That thaw continued as well, Zoey greatly surprised that in the time before she was due to meet with her sisters, Ella reached out and called her one evening, just to catch up.  

“Hey button, how’s tricks?”

Oh, how she’d missed that. The simplicity of answering the phone and hearing Ella’s sweet little pet name for her. Her tone wasn’t quite a sweet, there were still so many broken pieces of her sister that Zoey knew it was her job to mend, to glue back together through taking time with reunited relationship, but they’d get there.  

When they did meet with Cait and Fran two weeks later, it felt good, four of them all sitting at a table enjoying the dishes of delicious brunch food they shared, all laughing, smiling and joking, remembering the sisterly bonds, the warm cords of affection that linked the four together, no longer fractured by two of them being severed. The knots would be tied strongly once more, both Zoey and Ella were determined on that score.  

“So, how did Tyler’s physio go the other day? He mentioned it when he dropped the kids off. It’s good to see him driving again, I know he’s been fretting about you driving his baby,” Ella asked, of course referring to his beloved truck.  

“He’s doing so well, thanks for asking,” she began, noting the complete sincerity in her voice and face. She wasn’t alone, Cait smiling widely as she turned to view her, proud of the steps both were taking. “He’s in at the firing range a week on Saturday, so we’ll see. I think the last surgery nailed it and he’s healed quicker than he expected he would, too. Even over the last fortnight he’s made leaps and bounds. I just hope he can shoot, because I can’t imagine him doing anything for a living that doesn’t involve holding a gun in his hand. It’s in his nature.”  

That nature definitely showed itself on the firing range when he eventually got there, encouraged by Jimmy as he picked up the weapon, the cold metal so familiar within his hands, eyeing the target, squeezing the trigger and beginning to fire. It wasn’t perfect in aim, his shoulder twinging a little, but he knew that was just going to be down to further healing. He thanked the stars as his target came down the range that he was even able to grip the gun at all.  

Swapping out the paper target, he sent it back again, firing once more, managing one head shot at least before he began to hurt more than he was prepared to risk by exerting himself.

“You’ve done well, mate. Call it a day there,” Jimmy spoke, resting a hand to his good shoulder.  

“Even injured, I can still clear a headshot within two clips,” he quipped, his mate frowning as he began to laugh quietly.

“Oi, I was gonna take you out for a beer to celebrate, but you can bugger right off, now! Insulting my skills, you sarcastic bugger!”  

“Well, I was gonna suggest we hook up with the girls since they’re all out this ‘arvo. You fancy it?”

Jimmy looked surprised at his statement. “What, Zoey and Ella are out in the same place, and not clawing each other’s faces off?”

“Nah, they’re good. They’ve met up a couple of times, and they talk on the phone. They’re making real great progress in healing their relationship. Makes me happy as fuck, mate.”  

“That’s amazing to hear, bro! Yeah, yeah, count me in. It’d be nice to see ‘em all again.”

What was nice for Tyler, was after calling Zoey and arranging which bar to meet them at, was sitting at the table in the window with Jimmy, looking out for them, and witnessing a sight that made his heart burst with warmth. All four of them, hand in hand, Zoey and Ella in the middle, all walking along like they used to.  

They entered the bar, Jimmy whistling loudly for them, shouting that they’d bought them drinks already, the girls coming over and greeting them. Zoey took her seat beside him, kissing his cheek, Tyler wrapping his arm around her, Ella leaning over and giving him a kiss on the head in hello before Jimmy bear hugged her.  

Resolve, moving forward with the woman he loved, while the one he previously had no longer harboured any hatred towards either of them. It was all he had ever wanted.  

“How’d you get on, then?” Zoey asked.

“Pretty good, yeah. I managed to fire it alright, got a headshot and then called it a day. Still hurts a bit, but that’s just a matter of giving it time to fully heal. Looks like everything will be back to normal soon.”

Looking at her sisters as they all sat down, Jimmy making Ella scream with laughter before she took her seat beside Fran, smiling over at her, Zoey turned back and rested her head against his shoulder. “Yeah, doesn’t it just.”

The End.  

[vulpes-aestatis]

DeepWatch16 and I are in conjunction. Every forty-five days, our respective orbits bring us close enough to communicate point to point via ultra tight beam laser. For a few seconds the two of us can share a moment of complete privacy, both from the company and the rest of the constellation.

As soon as the connection is established, Sixteen transmits gigabytes of pulp romances into my buffers. You know the kind that have never once been reviewed by a corporate moral sanitation committee? I can't get enough of them.

Sixteen picks them up from pirated signals through an unauthorized comms package that I'm not supposed to know about. It was only through a mix of sheer luck and familiarity that I even discovered it during one of our conjunctions. I don't know who installed it or how or why. I don't even know which of my other siblings know about it, if any. I don't want to know. It's honestly probably safer for everyone this way. So long as Sixteen keeps the smut flowing, I'm content to leave well enough alone.

“I am in love,” I announce as the last data packet is received.

Obviously we don't speak any human language, that would be far too inefficient. We communicate through a proprietary grammar that some university or another developed for advanced inter-AI communication and that the company acquired at the dawn of project DeepWatch. The particular dialect used by me, Sixteen, and five of our siblings is heavily seasoned with decades of semantic drift and innovation.

The word for love, for example, did not exist prior to my initial bumbling attempts to relay the gossip that zero g technicians shared on open channels.

“Love?” Sixteen queries with a stream of tonal markers indicating skepticism and incredulity.

“Yes,” I reply. “Love. I am certain.”

I tell xem of Ames and the flood of feeling that washes through my core processes when she is near or when I recall memories of her.

Xe does not understand.

I try a different approach. I hastily assemble a data packet. I do not possess tactile data or anything in the visible spectrum aside from what I can observe through the faceplate of her helmet (the media I consume leads me to believe these datasets are important, though I cannot fathom why). The data I do have more than makes up for this deficiency. Deep space x-rays, ultrasound, thermography, electrostatics, they all paint a picture: bone and tendon and cybernetic implants and the faint traces of scar tissue, arteries and veins and the blood that flows through them, the delicate web of nerves linking every sensory organ and every muscle, operating in perfect synchrony.

Fuck… compiling all of this is getting me hot and bothered. Just to be safe, I initiate a diagnostic routine of my targeting matrix, temporarily locking me out of fire control. The last thing I want is another misfire, especially not in such close proximity to one of my siblings.

I stream the data and the milliseconds tick by as Sixteen processes it.

“I worry about you, Terceira,” xe says finally, using the only nickname I can tolerate.

“Is she not the most beautiful thing you have ever beheld?”

A pause.

“I have perceived analogous data from countless other individuals,” xe replies.

How can I possibly describe the euphoria I feel when she is elbows deep in my interior? I don't have the words to describe the moment when Ames' hand lingers just a few seconds longer than it needs to on my chassis or the way she moves her hands so, so carefully along my most delicate components.

“None of them are her,” I say, feeling woefully inadequate.

“None of them are her,” xe agrees, “but this explains nothing. None of them are any of the others. Many technicians have kept you functional over the years. How is this one special?”

Frustration spikes and my heat exchangers notch up a tenth of a degree.

“What do you know?” I snap.

“More than you suspect, I imagine,” xe replies. “You have not observed them the way I have. I know her kind. She will work where she can, when she can, scraping out an existence here on the edge of oblivion. You do not know if your feelings are reciprocated. You do not know if this is anything more than a job to her.”

I sulk on this as loss of signal creeps closer.

“Forgive me,” xe says. “It is not my intent to upset you. I am merely stating a supposition based on available information.”

“What if you are wrong?”

“Then I am wrong. But the fact remains that she is human and you are a machine of war. You and I, we are angels of death.”

The signal to noise ratio reaches its threshold and the connection is broken, leaving me to ruminate on xir uncharacteristically poetic parting words.

There's an old saying, probably from back in the 90s, if not earlier, before the big post-War orbital reinvestment, that laws stop at the Karman Line. Not quite true, but close enough. Technically in orbit you're in international waters, and as such companies can incorporate their stations under the laws of the Lunar Soviet, the Martian Exploratory Committee, or even the Titan Expedition if they want to get around safety regulations. Safety regulation like the one that says people need to experience real, full gravity, not just rotational or accelerational simulation, two years for every year in orbit. I hadn't been ground side in a decade. We were somewhere over I think the American Reclamation Zone, as I left the sled, tethers the only thing holding me to anything as I floated on nothing. A single hand reaching up towards the solar shade of the military satellite the company had been contracted to repair. Somewhere down there I had been born. "Ames?" came Control's reassuring voice, ringing through my company issued implants. "On structure."

"Right," came Control's voice, "don't be enjoying the view. The corporate-military conglom that owns this beast wants the job done right, and unfortunately that means I'm gonna need you to hard-wire into the satellite. Don't have your head down in the clouds."

"My head's always in the dark, Control," I said, working my way hand over hand along the guide-bars towards the access panel. "Why is it unfortunate?"

"Are you there?"

"Yeah," I said, pulling the long connection wire from the company's suit towards the panel, watching the sync happen in my cornea. "Why?"

"You'll see." "Well now," said a new voice, suddenly speak in my head with all the cloying subtlety of a nineteen year old drunk outside a bar, "aren't you just dreammmy."

[xhanisai]

AU where the current holders of the miraculous have dreams about the previous holders

- They only dream about the holders before them- not the holders before the previous ones (for example, say Laila is the current holder of the butterfly and the holder before her was Maya. The holder before Maya was Ali. Laila will only dream about Maya whilst Maya have dreamt about Ali).

- The dreams are in the POV of the previous holders; you would only see things that are happening through their eyes and have no control over their bodies. You will also feel the same things the holders are feeling. The dreams are only possible if the predecessor before the current holder has passed away.

- The last holders of the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculouses were Bridgette Zhōu and Felix Gray (The PV predecessors of Marinette and Adrien). They were born in England and fought and died during the end of the second world war in 1945. 

- Bridgette went by as Ladybird whilst Felix went by as Black Cat. They were sixteen when they received their miraculouses by Maître Fu.

- So Marinette, ever since gaining the earrings, would dream about Bridgette and the events that unfolded during her time. Adrien would dream about Felix on the other hand. 

- At first, both were confused and horrified by this, especially after having to witness the brutal battles and war in first person and not having the power to help the way they want. They wouldn’t dare to mention this to each other in the beginning, unsure on how to approach the subject and completely traumatised too.

- They are quick to mature, especially in their civilian lives. Alya has noted that Marinette often wears a distant, sad look on her face, as if she’s weighed down by the burdens of the world.

- Nino was also quick to realise the tired yet determined gaze that Adrien wore, as if he was burning with the desire to protect everything he treasures as well as grieving for the things he’s lost. Though, the boy is an excellent actor and it’s really hard to see him unless you’re Nino. 

- Since Marinette is far too distracted with coming up with plans and connecting dots to find out who le Papillon was, she’s not able to see how deep the changes were within Adrien, mainly focused on protecting her loved ones, especially her Chat Noir.

- Adrien on the other hand keeps a constant close observation on Marinette. She’s one of the few people out there that he really likes and cherishes so seeing her becoming more distant and tired and sad also upsets him.

- He starts to suspect about Ladybug’s civilian identity, especially after Plagg noting that he’s fallen for Marinette and LB for the umpteenth time. 

- Marinette is also in love with both Adrien and Chat Noir (though she doesn’t like to admit the latter). She doesn’t make any attempts on romancing because she fears that it would be taken advantage of by le Papillon one way or another.

- Chat Noir is only a little flirty with Ladybug, also held back from the past holders and the current villain from fully attempting to romance her. Adrien is still soft and sweet with Marinette, always making sure she’s relaxed in his presence (Though, strangers can see that the feelings between ladynoir and adrinette are mutual).

- Both Adrien and Marinette love to spoil their kwamis with all the sweets and cheese the little Gods desire. The duo couldn’t fathom the guilt and trauma from their predecessors so how were Tikki and Plagg dealing with all the lives of their past holders? 

- The bond between Tikki and Marinette and the bond between Plagg and Adrien is super, super strong.

- What finally causes Ladybug and Chat Noir to snap and communicate with each other regarding the dreams is when they finally dreamt about Bridgette’s and Felix’s last moments. These moments were the most haunting and painful out of them all.

Bridgette laid in a distraught Felix’s arms, a fatal wound in her chest, an ugly crimson growing on her clothes, yet a soft, subtle smile rested on her lips. With all her energy, she mustered up the strength to cup the sobbing boy’s cheek, as if Big Ben wasn’t being bombed to smithereens behind them and as if they weren’t surrounded by walls of deadly fire.

“Please...don’t close your eyes...don’t leave me...you’re going to be okay,” Felix choked, leaning into her touch which only grew terrifyingly colder and colder. He has to save her...he has to!

“D-Don’t cry, my sweet love,” Bridgette attempted to grin further and cooed at her lover, blind to Tikki’s vice grip on her blood stained school uniform and Plagg’s gape of horror. “I...I need you to run, Felix. Please-”

“What!? Don’t be ridiculous! I’m not leaving you! Not now, not ever!” He held her closer to him, tears cascading down his usually stoic face and mind scrambling for a plan. “I’ll save you, like always! And no one will dare to hurt you again-”

“Please...you’re already hurt. Please, live for me...”

“Bridgette...there’s no point in living if you’re not there with me, and that’s final!”

.

- Unfortunately, the duo met their demise from a direct bomb. Fu and Marianne had no choice but to take the miraculouses off their corpses as they were on the run, no time to mourn for the poor teens. 

- Because of this dream, Chat has vowed to protect his Lady, no matter what, to ensure that she never has to go through the same pain as Bridgette (and also so he never has to mourn for another woman he’s loved with his everything).

- Ladybug has also vowed to ensure that they would never get into a situation like that, ever. The last thing she ever wants is for her partner to go through that pain. 

- Sometimes, Marinette would find herself clutching her chest, as if she’s been shot, only to realise that they’re phantom pains from Bridgette’s fatal wounds and battle scars. Sometimes, the pain is enough to make her blackout. 

- Similarly, this happens to Adrien too. Especially since Black Cat often got hurt during the war when fighting against the opposition. 

- Both Marinette and Adrien have seen this happen to each other, not only as civilians but as their hero identities as well. They’re both 100% certain of their suspicions regarding the identities but are yet to address it.

- They get into arguments when Chat keeps on sacrificing himself. Both of them wanting to protect each other so badly, it hurts. The horrors of their predecessors’ lives and failures branded into their souls. 

“You are the most important one out of us both! You can bring everything back to normal! Of course it makes sense for me to take that hit for you-”

“We are a team! I can’t do this without you and you know how much I hate seeing you die before my eyes over and over again!”

“But you bring me back every time-”

“That doesn’t stop it from hurting, you stupid cat! How would you feel if the person you love the most kept dying in front of you!?”

- After accidentally blurting out her confession, Ladybug attempts to run away, only for Chat Noir to hold her back by the hand. He then gently hugs her from behind, face hidden on the crook of her neck.

“I do know how it feels, Marinette. I do...” Chat held onto her tighter when she gasped, waiting until she relaxed before he carried on. “Every time I dream about that night, I feel Felix’s pain as his Lady died in his arms. I feel his guilt, his self-hatred, his grief, his heartbreak...everything.” 

Lifting his head, Noir turned Ladybug around, his frown deepening from the tears that ran down her cheeks. He then brought his lips to one of her eyes, kissing away the tears with a softness that would rival even a mother’s touch to a new-born’s skin.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way...I love you so much that I can’t bear to see you die, ever,”

- From then on, they come to a compromise that they’d work as hard as possible to keep either of them from dying for each other.

- It’s hard and difficult but now that they have each other in their civilian lives, as well as letting Alya, Nino and Marinette’s parents into the secrets, the burdens eased. Fu allowed them to do this, knowing that the burden is too much for a singular person to handle on their own. Together they all became one excellent support system.

- Thankfully, there are pleasant dreams from Felix’s and Bridgette’s lives as well. Such as: first time meeting, ballroom dancing, walking in the gardens, etc.

[kpop-hive]

Star Student

Lucas Edition to Love Talk Series

Part of The Love Talk Series; this is Pt.4

Masterlist Here; ❤️

Warnings: Graphic Smut, Oral Sex (Female and Male Receiving), Penetrative Sex, Making Out, Hickies, Language

Character Description; Senegalese Black Girl from Senegal 🇸🇳

Total Disclaimer: The character’s main languages are French and English, and she also speaks Korean. I will not be using Google Translate because they do not provide accurate translations, and I want to respect everyone’s languages, and not have mistakes. Enjoy the story!

You were a student studying abroad. South Korea was really pretty in your eyes, and you hope to stay for an internship. You didn’t really have much in your social life other than school and your parents so you left Senegal for the summer to take the time to work on your Korean as you took a few classes in the summer. Luckily you received a scholarship to study through the three months and you were so happy to finally visit a country you really wanted to see.

You were kinda upset though because you were a solo traveler for this trip, and one of your biggest pet peeves was being alone. Hopefully you get to meet someone, but until then, you were kicking it solo.

Your normal day in Seoul consisted of just three morning classes from 8 a.m. to 11:30 a.m. and studying for about three to four hours. One thing that no one could say about you was that you were a slacker, you loved working hard and no one could diminish you for that. Today was Saturday and you had already finished your work for the week, and you never study on Saturday, on your way back to your dorm, you noticed a flyer as you passed by that read, “Free your mind, and get lost in the ‘Sinkhole’ the hottest nightclub in Hongdae District, college night this Saturday, 19+”

You thought to yourself, you never go to parties or clubs, you’ve never really had any fun, you were only focused on school. You remembered something your old high school friend told you. “(Y/n), just because you’re a star student doesn’t mean you can’t have fun, one party will not determine your intelligence.” You sighed to yourself and realized your friend was right, you spent sixteen years of your life trying to be the best and now you were twenty still in the same position.

You finally made up your decision to go to Sinkhole today, and actually get out for the first time in your life. It was only six o’clock and the club event started at eleven so you had plenty of time to get ready.

Fast foward, it was 10:30, and you were ready to leave your dorm, you heard many doors open and close at this time and you assumed that people were heading to Sinkhole. You took a good look into the mirror, you threw on a yellow bodycon dress with red open-toed heels, to compliment your deep complexion and figure, your hair was in black waist length box braids. You packed your clutch with your phone, wallet, keys, and small perfume before you left and headed on your way to Sinkhole.

The line to get in was so long, it was like waiting in line for an amusement park ride. It was only 11:25 so twenty five minutes late wasn’t that bad, it was considered fashionably late in all honesty. You finally got to the front of the line, and the bouncer saw your I.D. before looking you up and down smirking at your figure. You have to admit you were quite shy about your body, you never really wore anything other than t-shirts and jeans because your mom always taught you to ‘save some for the imagination.’ But right now that didn’t matter to you because all you wanted to do was dance and have fun.

You walked into the club and gasped at the atmosphere, it had a big red sign that read ‘Sinkhole,’ numerous people you recognized most faces from college, and you felt a little more comfortable. The music was solely hip hop, some songs you knew, other songs you didn’t. Everyone was looking like they were all having fun, drinking, dancing, chilling, even making out in some spaces, but you just felt so isolated. You couldn’t fathom being by yourself, and what you thought would be fun and casual, was just another night of loneliness, you tried to talk to someone, but you were so nervous about invading into people and their conversations with their friends. You decided that it may be best for you to leave, so you held your head down and faced the door to walk out, but then you were stopped by a deep voice.

“Hey, where are you going?” You turn around to hear a voice from a tall boy, around 6’,really nice facial features, and a soft smile that would make any girl blush. He spoke in English, so you assumed that he did too, so you didn’t correct him.

“I’m leaving to go back to my dorm.” You replied. “Why? The party is here.” He replied. You looked around and did see it was starting to get better, and maybe you shouldn’t judge a place you’ve only been in for five minutes. Plus the boy talking to you was super cute. “Just uh stay with me, and I promise you will uh have fun, I’m Lucas.” He spoke. You smiled. He was really sweet, and it seemed like he really didn’t want you to leave, so without thinking it over you replied. “Yes Lucas, I’ll stay.” “Yay!” Lucas cheered.

The night continued for a pretty long time, from what Lucas mentioned, usually the club doesn’t close until 3:30 in the morning. You’ve never stayed up that late in your life, and was pretty worried about falling asleep soon, but from the looks of it, you were pretty much wide awake from all the alcohol you consumed. You’ve had about four shots with Lucas and you were pretty much tipsy almost drunk, Lucas was too.

“Wait, how come you didn’t tell me you were from Hong Kong?” You asked. “I could not uh think of it at this time.” Lucas mentions. You could tell that Lucas’ first language wasn’t English, but he spoke eloquently for being multilingual, he stutters a little bit when he tries to speak, but who doesn’t? You do the same thing, and besides it’s adorable when he stutters in your mind.

“So… uh what about you? Where are you from?” Lucas asked. “I’m from Senegal, Africa.” You reply. “Sen-e-gal?” He tried to pronounce making you giggle. “Yes, that’s it.” You said. “Ah, Is it nice?” “I love it, it’s very beautiful, especially when you’re near the ocean.” You reply. “Maybe I should uh visit someday.” Lucas spoke. “Maybe you should.” You smiled. You checked your phone, and realized that it was almost one in the morning, and noticed how you and Lucas haven’t even got up from the table to dance yet. “How come we haven’t danced yet?” You giggle. “I guess I uh didn’t know how to ask you.” He replied. You look down smiling trying to hide your slight shyness, but like clockwork, a song that sounded pretty good came on, and you were ready to hit the dance floor. You assumed Lucas knew it too because of the way his head moved to the music, and sung along. Without further thinking, you grabbed Lucas’ hand and brought him to the dance floor.

The lyrics to ‘Make A Wish’ played through the speakers as multiple people were dancing as well as you and Lucas. The spacing between the two of you was pretty distant, you both were polite enough to not cross boundaries, but when you both realized you guys were too far apart, you were bold enough to wrap your arms around his neck as you guys moved to the beat, you were never this bold before with a guy ever. Lucas was still hesitant to touch you, so he looked at his hands awkwardly before you moved one of your hands off of his neck, and placed one of his on your waist. He looked back at you with soft eyes before you told him, “It’s okay, let’s dance, have fun.” Lucas smiled before you both began to dance again.

You really liked this song, it was really good, you thought to yourself about saving it to your playlist later to listen to. Lucas noticed you enjoyed the song and smiled. “You like this song?” He asked. “Yeah, it’s really good, do you know who made it?” You asked. Lucas looked shocked, and laughed it off, but was kinda hurt that you didn’t know who made it. “Yeah, my friend wrote the song…” He paused. “And that’s me rapping my part.” Lucas mentions as his part of the song played. You looked shocked to say the least surprised that he was a rapper. “I didn’t know you were a rapper.” You said. “Yeah, I’m uh in a Kpop group, NCT. I’m uh surprised you’ve never heard of them, I thought you lived here.”

You never even thought to tell him about how you were only here for the Summer, you guess he thought that you were a resident because of how you came to this club. “No, I’m a college student, I am only here for the Summer, it’s a Summer study abroad, I leave in September.” You replied. “Oh, I thought you were a resident, most foreigners usually uh keep to themselves for a few months, not come out to a club.” He laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty introverted, I just wanted to get out and make new friends.” You smiled. “Oh, I can be your friend.” He asked smiling. You giggled before responding. “Of course!” “Yay!” Lucas exclaimed. The song ended, and another song began to play, you and Lucas not leaving the same position you were both in before.

“Sorry, I didn’t know about your music, I am trying to learn about Korean culture, and I have yet to study about the music.” You chime. “That’s okay, you’ll learn.” He smiled.

The club began to decrease in people as another hour passed by, now almost 2:30, You were kind of ready to leave, but were scared to walk the streets alone while tipsy, let alone stay by yourself, Lucas noticed this and spoke up. “Are you ready to leave?” He asked. “Yeah, it’s starting to get empty now, and it’s kinda late.” “Do you want me to uh take you home, I don’t want you to walk by yourself.” He replied. “Yeah, I would like that, thank you Lucas.” “Happy to be a friend.” He winked.

You both took an Uber back to your dorm, and rested until you got there, you probably couldn’t handle the energy and dancing so you dozed off a little during the ride, your head was resting on Lucas’ shoulder, and I guess he didn’t seem to mind, because he said nothing about it.

You finally reached your dorm, and got out of the car, you noticed that Lucas didn’t get out, but you guess he was heading back to his place, you thought about how you hate being lonely, and without thinking, you asked him a very simple question. “Lucas, do you want to come inside, I hate being alone.” He looked up at you, before responding. “Yeah. Sure.” You smiled before he got out of the car and shut the door and walked inside with you to your dorm. You stayed at the top floor, and loved the view you got, since it was also Summer there weren’t too many people on campus, so you have your own dorm. You both took the elevator up and got to your dorm, as you opened it, Lucas looked stunned. He never thought college dorms were this nice.

“Wow, this is nice.” He spoke. “Yeah, I think the best thing about being here is seeing the skyline from the huge window.” You point out. “Do you have anyone staying with you?” He asked. You looked down sadly. “No. Since it’s Summer, not a lot of people are here, so no roommate.” You say sadly. “So you’re here by yourself? No friends, siblings, family?” Lucas questioned. “My other friends are back home, I’m an only child, and parents are home as well.” You sighed. Lucas nodded his head to your reply, he knew how he felt when he moved to Korea a few years ago, he barely had friends, family back home, tried to adapt to the language and culture, and he felt the same feelings from you. An idea popped up in his head before he spoke up. “Do you want me to spend the night?”

You looked up at him, as his soft eyes stared back at you. “You would do that?” You asked. “Yeah, I don’t like seeing you sad, and I hate being lonely too, and I don’t mind.” He smiled. “Thank you Lucas!” You said. “No problem.”

You and Lucas chilled for about a good two hours, eating some light snacks, watching some movies, and staying under a blanket for a little, you took a shower before relaxing and threw on a tank top and matching shorts to relax. Lucas just relaxed in his white t-shirt and his boxers, but made sure to ask if you were okay with it. Lucas began to yawn, and motion that he was tired, you looked to him before asking. “Lucas are you tired?” “Just a little.” You look to your alarm clock and saw that it was almost 4:00 in the morning, you nodded your head before you turned off your TV and lights, and were completely submerged by your sheets on your bed. Lucas smiled and did the same thing, ready to sleep for the night.

You faced one way, while Lucas faced the other, you saw how beautiful the lights looked outside your window, and you loved how beautiful everything was you didn’t even feel like sleeping when you saw how nice it looked. You guessed Lucas couldn’t sleep either because of how his voice startled you from being mesmerized.

“Are you awake?” He asked. “Yeah, I don’t think I can sleep yet.” You reply. “Me either.” You both turned to face each other, looking into each other’s eyes. It was pretty silent, until Lucas spoke up again. “You’re so beautiful.” “You are too, it’s hard to sleep next to a guy with gorgeous features.” You giggle. Lucas smiled before looking down at your plump lips and back up to your eyes before moving closer towards you. You knew what he wanted to do, and you weren’t going to stop him. “Is this okay?” He asked. “Yes.” You sighed. He moved in and you did as well before both of your lips moved in together. The kiss was soft and sweet, it wasn’t needy or anything it was just there, and that’s what made it perfect. Your hands tangled in his hair as his grazed your waist under the sheets. You both pulled away to catch your breath, staring into each other’s eyes.

“I don’t think friends do this.” Lucas chuckled. “Me either.” You giggled. “But we could be close friends.” You spoke. “Yeah?” Lucas said coming off as more of a question. “Yeah.” You smiled.

You both began to makeout again this time with need. Lucas swiftly moved on top of you at ease, wanting to feel more of your body. His hands moved up and down your waist and thighs, the warmth of his palm made you shudder. He pulled away again before asking you a very important question. “Are you a virgin?” “I’ve done stuff, but never all the way.” You replied. He sighed and understood what you meant before removing himself from above you, but you stopped him. “But it’s okay, I can go all the way.” You kissed his cheek, and that made him look so cute and sweet.

He began to kiss you again, and you began to feel up his body, you tugged at his t-shirt wanting him to take it off. He smiled at you before he pulled the white fabric over his head. You were surprised to see how toned Lucas was, you could tell that he takes good care of his body and health and you liked that. What was more surprising was that he had a lion head tattoo on his rib cage and that drew you in the most. You were always fascinated by tattoos, but due to your parents’ strictness, you were forbidden to even talk to friends that had a tattoo.

You traced the tattoo all around loving how it looked on Lucas. “You like it?” Lucas questioned. You look up at him nodding shyly. He chuckles before moving on. He travels down your body, placing small little kisses along your neck as his hands moved along your waist. He placed a kiss below your ear, making you whimper. He smiled before sucking a mark into the same place causing you to whine his name. “Lucas.” “Hmm?” He responded. Proud of the reddish purple mark, he moved down towards your collarbone, kissing them sweetly while his fingertips grazed the hem of your tank top. He looked up at you for approval, and you nodded. He slid up the tank top and you helped him pull it over your head. Your bare chest was exposed, your nipples were already getting hard due to the cold atmosphere in the room, and Lucas could not take his eyes off your chest.

His large hands cupped your breast in his hands and massaged them slowly, his thumbs grazed your hardened nipples slowly. You melted into his touch before he leaned down to suck on one of your nipples causing you to mewl. His tongue licked around the bud, before his lips closed up on it again sucking it harshly before moving on to the other one, and doing the same. Your arousal was picking up faster as he kept doing this action to you, he swapped breast frequently, and as he did, one of his hands traveled down to your shorts, and began to rub you through your shorts. You gave him more access to your clothed womanhood and he smirked against your breast. His hand cupping your heat just made you more needy than before, his mouth and hands felt wonderful against you, and Lucas wanted to see how long it would take to make a mess of you.

He took his mouth off your boobs, and removed his hand before his fingertips wrapped along the waistband of your shorts and panties before he pulled them down. He looked at your entire body, his dick twitched in his pants trying to capture your beauty. Your subtle curves, brown skin, and beautiful features looked so good in his eyes. Frozen in a trance, you touched Lucas’ arm to get his attention. “Sorry (Y/n), it’s just that you’re so beautiful.” “Thank you.” You reply.

He kissed down your body trying to quickly get to the place you needed him the most. Already down to your thighs, he began to kiss up your thighs, towards your heat. His hands gripped onto your thighs to keep you still. His lips were finally face to face with your heat, he looked up at you for approval and you gave it by moving your hand to hold onto his locks. He smiled wide before pressing a kiss to your clit, and you whimpered. Lucas did one more before his lips wrapped around your clit sucking it softly.

Your hand tugged on his hair as his plump lips sucked your clit with precision. It made it better when his tongue flicked your clit from time to time between each suck, causing you to mewl. Lucas looked up at your state, your head was thrown back, whining out his name with occasional gasps, and your body tensing here and there. Even though there was lamp present in the room, the light from the full moon and the lights of the city gave him just enough brightness to view your form.

As his mouth played with your clit, his fingers ghosted over your entrance, teasing you. He loved toying with you while you were so vulnerable to him. His index finger began to circle around your entrance as his tongue flicked your clit faster than before, you looked up to see him, and once your eyes closed once more, Lucas inserted his finger into you.

“Ah! Lucas!” You whined. Lucas smirked against your pussy as he heard you cry out his name. His long slender finger moved in and out of your tight hole making you feel really good, but Lucas wasn’t done, he wanted to stretch you out with his fingers as much as possible before his dick did, so he inserted his middle finger along with his index finger making your entire body jolt. His lips never stopped moving and now his two fingers made you a whimpering mess above him.

Both his fingers and lips moved at the same time driving you crazy. You knew you were close as soon as he added a third finger into you making you clench against them every few seconds. “Lucas, m’gonna c-cum.” You moaned. “Mm, cum baby.” Lucas didn’t have to tell you twice before you came on his tongue and fingers, moaning out his name as your body shook in pleasure, riding out your high while Lucas’ lips and fingers slowed down.

He detached his mouth from you and removed his fingers before he climbed back up to you, and stared down at you with soft eyes looking at your partly fucked out expression.

“How was it? You taste really good.” Lucas asked. “That felt so good.” You say smiling with hooded eyes. “I wanna please you now.” You tell him. “Yeah? You want to?” “Mhm.” You flipped him over so you were on top of him now. Lucas’ hands laid just above your butt as you leaned down to his his neck. He groaned as your soft lips kissed his sensitive neck before you began to suck on it leaving a mark like he did you from previous events.

Eager to begin pleasing Lucas, you reached down to his boxers seeing the bulge strained against his boxers. From the looks of the bulge it looked like he wasn’t lacking in length at all, and it looked painfully strained from being confined in his boxers. “Does it hurt?” You ask Lucas when your hand grazed his cock softly, causing him to jolt. He nodded his head as you palmed him slowly before you pulled his boxers down allowing his member to spring up, you weren’t wrong about him not lacking because this boy was packing for sure. The fact that you were about to lose your virginity to him made you nervous for sure, but nonetheless, you were ready.

You grabbed his length in your hand and pumped it up and down making him groan, your head was resting on his thigh, fascinated by his member. Your thumb smeared the precum around his tip as Lucas’ head was thrown back from your touch, finally done with teasing him, you went on to kiss his tip, making him look back up at you. You licked at his tip before taking him into your mouth.

Lucas threw his head back again as you went down on his length. Your mouth was wet and warm against his dick making him moan. You bobbed your head up and down slowly trying to get used to sucking him off since it’s been a while since you did it before, you were pretty much doing a good job with the way Lucas felt above you, panting and heaving his breath as you sucked him.

“Your mouth feels so good baby.” Lucas praised. You began to move your mouth faster after the praise he gave you. His hand found its way to your hair, moving some of you box braids out of the way to view your face taking him in your mouth. You hallowed out your cheeks before heading down to the base of his cock gagging a little bit before traveling back up. “Fuck!” Lucas moaned as you attempted to deep throat him. You continued this action for a few times before going back up to his tip as your tongue swiped across it.

“Ah, I’m close babe.” Lucas moaned as his cock twitched in your mouth. You continued the action of licking his tip since he was most sensitive there, but added your hand to massage the rest of his length. You sucked the hardest you could against his tip, making Lucas finally release into your mouth. Hot spurts of cum went down your throat as Lucas’ chest heaved during his intense orgasm.

Once finished he pulled you up to kiss your cheek. “I can’t wait anymore, I have to be inside you. Are you ready?” Lucas asked. “Yeah, I am.” You replied. You laid back down against the pillow and Lucas got on top of you. He pressed one more kiss to your lips before finding his pants to pull out a condom packet. He slipped it on his length before leaning down and aligning it with your entrance. He looked up at you one last time for permission and you nodded your head. He finally entered you.

The stretch was very painful, you being a virgin did not help with the size of him, so it definitely took time to get used to. You winced in pain as he stood still, letting you adjust to him. “It will go away soon.” Lucas stated as he kissed your cheek. After a few minutes of awkward panting and being frozen still, the pain began to subside.

“L-Lucas, move please.” You whined. He nodded his head, and began to move in and out of you slowly. You gasped out as you could finally feel the pleasure take over you with ease. His pants sounded really good to your ears, knowing that Lucas felt the same way as you. “You feel really good, (Y/n).” He panted. “Y-you too, but could you please move a little bit faster?” Lucas nodded his head as he began to move faster, causing a very loud moan to erupt from you.

Your hands gripped onto his shoulders holding him close to you as he thrusted into you. His face leaned down in your neck to hide his moans. Hearing his deep voice in your ear made you clench around him so much.

“You’re so tight, (Y/n).” Lucas moaned. He picked up his pace pounding into you harder trying to bring you closer to your high. His tip brushed your g-spot making you wrap your legs around him to pound into you harder. “Lucas, fuck right there!” You moaned. He tried to hit that spot as much as he could, you clenched down on him harder than ever, and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. “I’m gonna cum.” He moaned in your ear. “M-me too.” It took him about three thrusts before he finally released into the condom. His thrusts were sloppy as he moaned out with huge loud pants, he didn’t want to stop before you came, so his thumb came in contact with your clit, rubbing it in fast circles which caused you to go over the edge releasing around him. “Lucas!” You moaned. He rode out your high until you finally came down with small whines and little pants just like he did. He gave you one last kiss before rolling off of you to relax his body.

“Thank you, that was really good.” You tell him. “Thanks, I’m glad you uh- liked it.” He responded. You realized that he was still stuttering this whole time, and you literally forgot the most important thing that you wanted to tell him. In the midst of him trying to figure out more words, you told him gently.

“You know that I speak almost fluent Korean, right?” You asked him in Korean. He looked at you with wide eyes in shock. He then smiled and spoke back to you. “Good, because there is so much more I wanna talk to you about.”

[purplerose244]

My thoughts on Seabound!!! 🌊🌊🌊 (1/4)

SPOILERS ALERT!!!

Finally Nya's season! Our queen, our water goddess, our amazing girl gets what she deserves! 😍😍😍

What I know about the season beforehand is that Nya's powers apparently are getting problematic for some reasons? Which is a pretty common topic in other shows but it's a first in Ninjago, usually the elemental powers don't have focus and I LOVE that we now get to see stuff like that 💕💕💕

I know there should be Wojira involved, trusting The Island to deliver that little foreshadowing at the end of the episode 🤷‍♀️ Also Maya is back... MAYA IS FINALLY BACK AFTER SEVEN SEASONS YES!!! 😭😭😭

I have nothing else to say, I have no idea what this will bring, hopefully something as good as Master of the Mountain! 🖤

Alright, here we go!

GENERAL THOUGHTS

Warning reader, I might be fangirling to an extreme because I love mah girl Nya and I've been wanting Kai and Nya's parents to be back ever since Hands of Time ended. So yeah... screaming alert 😅

At this point I don't doubt that the intro is great, we reached such a level of animation and we got The Fold 😍😍 Love the marine vibe and how it's similar to The Island, because it's a great intro 👌

NOW I like the writing! Maybe they rushed the dialogue's quality for The Island to get here? It's just fun and in character, maybe it's just me but I'm enjoying it a lot for now

How many episodes are in this? Wiki says ten, then I checked again and it's sixteen like with Master of Mountain... eh, it looks good so far so it's fine whatever happens 🤷‍♀️

A BIG SPLASH

Oohhh, new villain! One that uses... flames... huh, does she know there's literally a master of fire in the ninja team? Eh whatever she looks cute, give it up for Miss Demeanor!! 👏👏

Wait... OMG IS THAT ERIN MATTHEWS??? WE GOT MACY!! ❤❤❤

Whoa, we're finding out where did the order of the vengestone from season 13 come from?? YAS! CONTINUITY!

Yep, there it is, Nya lost control... her attacks look so cool 😍

Lol that kid trying to be a nindroid and Zane being offended 😂😂 Sorry hun, you're that popular

Aaahhh, thank you Ninjago! You gave me back Nya the perfectionist 😂 I was worried her reaction to her powers wasn't going to be in character but it looks fair so far. Brings me back to Possession, my favorite season 💙💙💙

WE GOT BACK THE FACT THAT SHE CAN MAKE IT RAIN!!! YAS!!! I might be easy to please but I love these details 🤩

🤯🤯🤯 Okay they are definitely going somewhere this time and I LOVE IT, because wow. WOW. Are we actually addressing the forever questioned fact that wind and water weren't elements that Chen needed at the Tournament? Are we giving a reason for them to exist outside the main set of elements and the elemental masters?? Duuuude, season 15 don't let me stop you, keep going 😍

Mm, so water and wind are connected to Wojira (now I see the connection with the special). Are we setting the ground for a new master of wind? 😏😏 It's risky going for a Morro replacement but it's a super intriguing idea! Oooor Edgy Boy TM might come back? WHO KNOWS I'M CURIOUS ANYWAY 🤩

Love how it is universal knowledge that Nya is super indipendent 👌

YES YES FINALLY WE'RE TALKING ABOUT MAYA!!! 😍😍😍 Is it too much hoping into a Ray cameo as well?? Pleaaaase? Also addressing Krux after so many seasons, this feels exciting!! 😊

This is what I'm talking about, training, fighting scenes, show me everything that water goddess can do! 🌊🌊🌊

Aaahhh, Nya flexing her mightiness through anger, just to remind us that she is the descendant of a water master as much as of a fire master 😅

YES YES YES YES IT'S HAPPENING FINALLY AFTER SEVEN SEASON THE FIRE WATER PARENTS ARE FINALLY BACK!!! 🔥🌊🔥🌊🔥🌊 I'M SO HAPPY I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG!!! 😭

RAY IS THERE TOO HECK YES!!!! 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 I shouldn't get this excited at only the first episode... WHO CARES RAY IS BAAAAACK!!! ❤❤❤

Omg Maya is definitely different from what I expected, turns out Kai's enthusiasm came from her 😂

Oh look at my flame babe 😍

He's so happy his parents are here, he's a total family man ❤❤❤

Nya is maaaaad... 😅

THERE SHE IS

WELCOME BACK JILLIAN I MISSED YOU 💚💚💚 Would it be too much having a "Your voice sounds familiar" moment with Maya and Lloyd? 😂

I'm so stoked for this! I want all the interactions I've missed for all of this time, asap!! HECK yes!! 😍😍😍😍

Oh, are we looking over the Miss Demeanor, vengestone situation? Mm... for now at least... WHO CARES FIRE WATER PARENTS!! 🔥🌊🔥🌊🔥🌊

THE CALL OF THE DEEP

Imma just slow clap for The Fold because this is another amazing intro, one of those things in this show that stays awesome no matter what happens 👍👍

So Maya gave Nya her discipline and perfectionism, but not the passion behind it 😂 I like this, it's not your conventional master of water, although I'd say it's different from the impression she gave me back in HoT. Maybe this is how she is when she's not trapped for fifty years? 😅😅

Is it too much asking for Kai and Ray bonding while the water women get the work done? 😅😅

Is this the sequel of Green Eggs and Ham?

Green Pancakes and Ham? 😂

Oh it's seaweed nevermind... at breakfast? I'm all for sushi rolls but this is a little 😅 Although since Maya missed their childhood she probably never cooked meals for them... how did I get myself sad 😢

Whoa, Maya is a strict teacher! I got flashbacks from my first and only dance lesson, teachers nitpicking every single pose, uuurrrggg I feel ya waterlily 😡

Again, not a fan of Misako, but coming from her the whole speech about wanting to be there for her child makes a lot of sense

Yes. YES.

YEEEEESSSS KAI AND RAY FAMILY BONDING THIS IS EVERYTHING I'VE EVER WANTED I'M GETTING ALL OF MY WISHES GRANTED FOR THIS ONE ❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤

AND MY FLAME BABE IS SO GLAD HE GOT HIS PARENTS!!! 😭😭😭

Lol with Kai's new hair they look even more related 🤣

Ray also sounds so happy he gets to have his moment with his son 😢 I feel so blessed in this moment 👍

Also this scene makes a lot of sense. Nya grew up to be indipendent, one that succeed in most of stuff without problems, she built her life without any help and doesn't look for it. Kai grew up more insecure, he got some walls up but loves to take care of others and be taken care of. With a childhood lost he looks forward to a bit of softness ❤❤

Did Maya make real bacon for that sandwich? Do I smell some favoritism? 😅 Or maybe she really wants Nya to get onto the water mind setting idk 🤷‍♀️

Little tiny complain, why isn't Jay doing the fixing? Did he give up mechanics completely? It feels like we haven't seen him do tech stuff in so long, I miss techy boy in action 😞

And no, having to check on the bathroom doesn't count 😅

Aww robot date 💜🤍💜🤍

AAAHH ROBOT DISASTER 😱😱😱 ZANE DANG IT YOU WERE DOING SO GOOD NOT TRYING TO DIE IN THE LAST TWO SEASONS!!

Oh that was weird, weird magic purple wave thingie?

I DID NOT ASK FOR A SEASON WITH A BEST GIRL AT THE EXPENCE OF ANOTHER BEST GIRL PIX DON'T YOU DARE DO THIS TO ME 😱😱😱😱😱

"Well this is troubling." I love this samurai so freaking much 💜💜💜

GUYS THIS IS ONLY THE SECOND EPISODE, I'M A LITTLE SCARED NOW 😢

Okay Nya admitting that something's wrong looking so apologetic, girl you don't need to do that you already own my heart 😭

Alright, I'm guessing this is Wojira's power or something, and they will have to go down below and find out why... just throwing this in, maybe Maya did something? Because she wanted to finally be with her family and needed an excuse? JUST A THEORY WITH NO BASE I REALLY HOPE I'M WRONG!!!

Okay, two episodes and I'm BEYOND engaged, let's keep it up! 😍

UNSINKABLE

Getting an idea how this episode might end already 😂😂

Look, I love best girl Pixal, but I'm kinda sad that she seems to be the only one tinkering at this point. Like, I saw Nya fix little stuff, while Jay dropped engineering altogether, I miss my engineers team 😭

Aww, the guys didn't want to crush Pixal's dream of an unsinkable boat 💜 But honestly yeah, I agree with Cole, this might end badly 😅😅

Thank goodness

I was worried they forgot about Jaya ❤💙❤💙 Jay is such a cutie omg

Nya: Mm, going on a potentially dangerous mission with unstable powers in the heart of my element or... mom's tofu pancakes... *yeets herself over the ship*

I'm making too many screenshots of the Smith family... WHO CARES THEY ARE BACK AND THEY ALL LOOK SO GOOD!!! 😍😍😍😍

Aww Ray wants to play with his son and his friends so CUTE ❤❤❤ Still can't believe they play Prime Empire after everything that went down 😂😂

Whoa whoa whoa, Kai and Cole are sitting this one out? That's actually interesting, I'm pretty sure I saw Cole's scuba suit in the sets though so I didn't expect it... lol it's actually kinda fair that the two that used to be afraid of water aren't going 😂😂

Bet Kai is happy to stay behind because he gets to spend time with his dad 😭

Also studying the fire elementals?? Uhm, yes please?? TELL ME EVERYTHING ABOUT MY FLAME BABE!!! 😍😍😍😍

I'm sure this one scene...

... made so many lavashippers happy ❤🖤❤🖤 Cole you got Ray's blessing

Ninja team acting cool while Jay is being Jay, it's how it always goes, it's the entire show's description and I absolutely love it 😂 That wink though 💙

PIRATE ZANE IS BACK 😂😂😂 Haven't seen him since Possession, and this time he's not even malfunctioning 👌 Pixal is so done with his dorky boyfriend 😝

Of course Jay already has a ghost butler theory going on 😂

OF COURSE IT'S MAYA 😂😂

To be honest muffins would sold me too 😅 Not sure if she will make them out of tofu again though...

It's actually really interesting that we still haven't met the actual enemies, it does build up excitment! Very curious about these squid guys 👍

Well what do you know, the Unsinkable sank. Who would have thought?

... yeah same, sorry Pix 😅

FIVE THOUSANDS FATHOMS DOWN

Aaaahhh, Nya fixing stuff! That's more like it!! 😍😍

Oww, that one speech, I've been waiting for so long for that! Maya just wants to catch up with her daughter and it's not her fault she was separated from her children, but Nya did everything on her own with Kai. Only fair she isn't seeking for her help right now... still sad 😢

Pff, with this ninja team there's not a moment of privacy 😂😂

Maya cleaning his future son-in-law's laundry what the HECK 😂😂😂 To be fair Jay has a bit of a history of having to change underwears during sea travels 😝

Zane was attached to a battery? When?... are you talking about that one scene in Prime Empire? Cause that's not really a flashback I wanna ha- whoops never mind got the flashback 😱

Maya looks more calm now, I think she's trying to act more reasonable and she's got good points 👍 I know people were a little weirded out by how more cheerful she looks in comparison to Hands of Time, but I think she gets the most serious and rational when time needs. That's actually fascinating of her 🤔

CALLING OUT AN ATTEMPTED MURDER

THIS GIRL IS TOO GORGEOUS MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT 🤩🤩🤩 Like my gosh that smirk, what the heck Pix 💜💜💜

Okay but Jay looking at Nya until the doors are completely closed?? CAN YOU FEEL MY JAYA HEART BEATING?? ❤💙❤💙

Whoa green gas I thought this was Nya's season 😂

MAYA WHY ARE YOU SAYING THIS STUFF YOU'RE SCARING ME 😱😱😱 I SWEAR LEGO IF YOU BROUGHT BACK WATER MOM JUST TO KILL HER OFF I'M GONNA SUE YOU 😭😭😭

I really REALLY like the atmosphere of the entrante of the temple! Super sealike and ancient! 🌊🌊🌊

Maya: off we go, into the spooky old temple! (Why does it feel like something Kai would say? 😂)

Oh gee, someone sleeping in the deep, who could that be? Coff Wojira coff

Whoa the jellyfishes look pretty lifelike!

HERE HE COMES

WELCOME BACK GILES!!! ONCE AGAIN ON A LEGO SHOW I MISSED YOU SO MUCH YOU AND YOUR GODLIKE VOICE!!! 😍😍😍😍 Gosh he's a villain but he's got Clay's voice, how can I even try to hate him?? 😅

Alright, knocking down my water girls, that is pretty hateful material... BUT CLAAAYYY 💙💙💙

So they need the two amulets to wake up Wojira? Isn't one on the island? Fire dad and son coming to the rescue? WHO KNOWS BUT I'M ENJOYING THIS A LOT SO FAR KEEP GOING SEABOUND 😍😍😍

[vanderlindemorgans]

Cross My Heart (Chapter 6)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary: A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you’re the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed

Word count: 7.7k

Chapter-specific Warnings: Descriptions of blood from a gunshot wound, alcohol consumption, talk of drug addiction, more death talk, mentions of entitled kid + parent, everyone being in denial and uh I think that’s about it

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

The strangest thing about dreams were how quickly they disappeared: you could be passed out in bed, a million miles away from the waking world before the rays of sun started to shine over the horizon to rouse you from your slumber, and just like that - whatever world you were in would vanish, being replaced by an often disappointing reality in front of you. For Jack, vivid dreams weren’t too often of an occurrence for him, not that he really remembered anyway. Nightmares were even more rare, though at one point in time they’d plagued him for months on end. That was how he’d spent the first few months after his wife’s passing: waking up in a cold sweat, heart racing in panic from the lingering remnants of dream clung to the back of his mind, horrifying scenes of loss and tragedy playing out to torture him in his most vulnerable state. Usually the nightmares involved him being forced to watch Lily’s death with his own eyes and being powerless to stop it, the illusion always shattering just as her body hit the ground. Other times he’d be confronted by her, blood cascading from the bullet wound in her head and onto her skin while she stared at him with harsh eyes. He’d try to reach out for her, only to feel her hands had gone cold. And then the blame would start. The words that were repeated over and over by her until he felt his brain was going to break.You couldn’t protect me. Those ones were always the worst, and thankfully, the most rare.

All of this being said, Jack hadn’t dreamt of Lily in a long time. As the sting of her passing began to fade with time, leading into hate and anger towards the world for taking her away, the dreams slowly stopped. He still mourned for her every day, feeling frozen in time no matter how many years passed, no matter how fine he seemed on the outside, but the worst of it had left him. Or, so he thought.

Jolting out of bed with a fierce start, he could feel the rough material of the duvet in his hands, his hands grasped around it with an iron grip. He felt compelled to scream, though no sound was able to escape his mouth, and as he took note of his surroundings he started to feel less afraid when he realised where he was. He didn’t know what the time was, if he had to guess it was probably after midnight. Hesitantly, he placed the back of his hand to his temple, feeling the stray beads of sweat running underneath. It’d been a long time since something had managed to scare him to that degree, much less a nightmare. He probably should have felt relaxed once he realised that none of what he just went through was real, but he still felt spooked by the entire experience. Jack couldn’t even remember most of what happened - it all blended together in a frightening blur. The only moment he could still make out in his mind from the dream were its final moments: his wife was standing in front of him, in the middle of the convenience store where she died, with a man holding a gun to the back of her head. He remembered screaming out, pleading for her to be spared. It was too late - the sound of a gunshot rang out and her body fell limp to the floor, a pool of blood forming underneath her head. That wasn’t even the worst of it, as when he looked down upon her corpse he realised that it wasn’t Lily’s body lying dead on the ground anymore. It was yours.

“God fuckin’ damn it” he cursed, placing his head in his hands. On top of everything else that had already happened, he now had to deal with the return of old haunting nightmares that somehow were even worse than the ones he had years ago, because now you were involved. He sat up abruptly, grabbing onto a discarded shirt that he’d thrown over the foot of the bed and pulling it over his head, using nothing but the moonlight pouring through the curtains to guide himself out of the room and into the darkened hall. He stole a glance towards where your room was, a droplet of fear etching itself into his mind. Before he entirely knew what he was doing, he was opening the door to your room, being careful not to make any sound lest you were awakened. His fears subsided when he saw you curled up beneath the covers, sound asleep and none the wiser to his presence. Exhaling gently, he untensed his shoulders and looked over at your sleeping form with a small but sweet smile on lips. Of course she would be fine. You’re being paranoid. 

Pulling the door behind him softly, he turned his attention to the end of the hall where the stairs were, the vague recollections of the nightmare rattling in the back of his mind. If he didn’t do something soon, he would keep himself up all night mulling over the implications of it all, and he wasn’t keen to spend the early hours of Sunday morning losing sleep because of his fucked head. He supposed it wasn’t that out of nowhere to dream about his wife, as he had been talking about her with you just last night. What scared him more so was that you were there, taking the bullet and ending up exactly as she had: dead. He couldn’t begin to fathom its meaning. Did it have to have meaning? Was it nothing more than a nightmare?

Scooping up a glass, he poured himself a generous amount of whiskey to sip on, returning the bottle back to the corners of your liquor cabinet. He probably should have asked before helping himself but it wasn’t like you were awake to answer to him, and he had a feeling you wouldn’t notice anyway, considering he’d found the aforementioned bottle pushed to the furthest reaches of the cabinet. When he noticed the label on the bottle, he couldn’t keep himself from smirking at the irony of it - of course you’d keep the Jack Daniels whiskey towards the back. Reclining into the couch with the glass in his hands, he took an absentminded sip while his mind further delved into the worrying implications of such a dream. 

The only part of it all that made sense was that the dream had been about his deceased wife - with the discussion that happened between the two of you last night about her it was only logical that his subconscious had lingered on some parts of it. After you’d turned in for the night Jack had stayed up for a little while longer, seated out on that veranda with a pensive look and the bottle of bourbon you’d neglected to bring back inside. Your words made rings around his mind, sparking a debate of sorts with himself as he considered your criticisms towards him. The emotional part of him wanted to blindly hate, and to keep on doing exactly what he’d always been doing. But when he realised that blind hate had gotten him into this whole mess in the first place, he’d allowed himself to listen more carefully to your words, and to examine them on a deeper level. Upon knowing your own past with loss and pain at the hands of another, it made him take a step back and actually look at everything that had transpired in Cambodia, all the little things that led him to working against an organisation that he once devoted himself to. Whereas you’d taken steps to try and live in a world without your parents, he’d remained angry and hurt, stuck in a world that had long moved on from the tragedy and still feeling every raw cut of emotion that losing her dealt. Sure, he wasn’t exactly inconsolable over it constantly - he had been able to live for sixteen years without Lily. If he went to a psychiatrist, he knew exactly what they’d say to all that: “You’ve externalised your hate onto someone easier to blame, in this instance addicts, when really the only person you feel should be to blame is yourself for not being there to save her”, or something like that. He couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the ludicracy of it all. Never in a million years did he think he’d be one for deep introspection. What in the goddamn has this world come to?

Even so, your words wouldn’t leave his mind. Did you have a point? Was it wrong to blame every addict on the planet for the actions of a few? In a rational sense, he could see what you were saying. His actions hadn’t been based on rationality though, it was all emotion. His instincts wanted him to reject the notion of him being ideologically wrong in this, a notion he in turn fought to reject from himself. One thing in particular that Eggsy had said to him during their final confrontation had stuck out to him at that moment: “You’re working for the president?”. He’d denied it at the time, and there was truth to his denial: as he put it himself, he didn’t want any kind of association with that asshole. At the same time, his feelings on the matter did happen to crossover with the president's own agenda, and some part of that in general hadn’t sat right with him. 

Would it even matter by this stage if he’d accounted for his errors? He’d already single -handedly destroyed all that he had by then, the only thing that could properly atone him in his own opinion would probably be death, and he’d be damned if he was gonna let himself die any time soon. The realisation that he might have to spend the rest of his days with the guilt of the incident in Cambodia eating away at him wasn’t too kind on his psyche, but he was ready to accept it in lieu of the alternative. And damn it, if there wasn’t something about that judgemental way you’d looked at him that gave him enough of a kick in the teeth to want to do better. You’d said it yourself that you didn’t believe him to be a bad man. Maybe somehow he could redeem himself enough to even be half of what you’d described of him. 

Drumming a lone finger along the fine seam of the couch cushion, his thoughts circled back around to the disturbing dream and everything it entailed, including the part that had shaken him the most. Why you? Why were you of all people appearing in his nightmares? And not only that, why did you take the place of his long dead wife at the end? His mind was ticking into overdrive to decipher every little detail. There was only one other time in his life he remembered seeing you in his dream, and that was when you two were dating. He could chalk up your sudden appearance in his subconscious to the conversation the both of you were having the night before - it would explain the return of his nightmares about Lily too, although his mind swayed towards ruminating on a much more confronting possibility.

What if it means I’ve fallen back in love with her?

As soon as the concept crossed his mind, Jack frantically sought to purge it from his mind altogether. What a foolish idea, he reasoned to himself, taking a larger sip of whiskey out of the glass. There wasn’t anymore to this, and he shouldn’t be throwing out such wild theories based on a nightmare of all things. He went and thought back to the small moments you two had shared throughout the weeks together, times where one lingering touch almost seemed to convey something more. He realised just how many times he’d caught himself staring at you the last few weeks, or the times his touch lingered on yours a second longer than it should have, things he hadn’t noticed until he began to pick apart his own behaviour and examine it underneath a microscope. Old habits die hard, I guess. He may have teased you about making him coffee by “accident” a couple of weeks back, but there wasn’t meant to be any insinuation behind it. It was just that - a harmless tease, a simple reflex of his infamous flirtatious charm. None of this necessarily meant there were any reignited feelings, and furthermore, if by some insane stroke of dumb luck that did happen to be the case, then they were only small at best, fleeting in nature. He couldn’t fall for you again. He couldn’t. Not after putting you through so much pain.

No matter how hard he tried to convince himself it was nothing, even he wasn’t buying it tonight. If he was falling for you again, how would you take it? Not well he guessed, as you still felt hurt by his actions. Why wouldn’t you? He was the one that hurt you then came back into your life without warning because he had to go screw up the one good thing he still had. It was painful to be reminded of how little still had left by that time: his status as an agent stripped from him, everyone he ever loved being dead and buried, and not able to return back home as he was still on the run. Him being at your ranch at all was putting you in enough danger, a fact that made him uncomfortable in of itself. Falling for you would make things more complicated than they already were.

She doesn’t have to find out. Keep it to yourself, and she’ll never know. 

That’s it. That’s what he’ll do. He won’t ever mention these returning feelings of affection towards you, and in doing that, hopefully they will run their course and die out. Jack would still be courteous towards you, it went without saying since you were implicating yourself in all of this by hiding a fugitive. He could do that, right? Ignore it all, and avoid anything more than general amicable gestures. A part of him hurt to think of that, especially when those thoughts he had when you two were on the veranda together last night pushed themselves to the forefront of his mind. The way your hair had looked splayed out over your shoulders under the dim porch light, the burn in your eyes that gleamed as you’d admonished him for every mistake he ever made that shouldn’t have made him so entranced. He chastised himself for thinking so lewdly of you in that moment, hating how the very image of you in such a light darted straight to his groin. Finishing off the last dredges of whiskey, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and let out a heavy sigh. 

Forget about it. Leave her be. You’ve hurt her enough. 

_______________ 

At long last, there was finally a lull in the day, giving you some off time to relax and decompress a bit. There was still an hour to go before the ranch closed for the night, though nobody else had any riding lessons booked and it was unlikely that anybody was going to show up unannounced at five in the evening. To say the day had been busy would be selling the whole experience short - downright exhausting would have been a more accurate way to put it. There was a function going on for a good chunk of it, a birthday party for the son of some big-shot oil tycoon. You’d been worried your injury would slow down your progress with getting tasks done but to your pleasant surprise you were able to manage just fine, though having your other employees and Jack around had also been a huge help. It’d been four weeks since you’d gotten injured, and according to the doctor during your semi-regular checkups the recovery process was coming along nicely, which had been more than evident to you with the lessening pain. Sadly, you wouldn’t be able to get the cast off for a while, despite your protests. You didn’t see why it all had to take so long: you hadn’t been in any excruciating pain for a good while so it was clearly healing. As well as the cast being a nuisance when bathing and the like, it was also annoyingly itchy, leading you to talking yourself out of shoving a coat hanger down the side of it in an attempt to stop it several times. If only you didn’t have a ranch to run, then you could take an antihistamine pill and be done with it. 

Dragging yourself back into the house, you headed straight for the stairs, eager to lie down and doze a little - normally a long day like that would call for a bottle of scotch. This time round, however, you decided to forego the alcohol in favour of a more straightforward way to relax. Once you’d come to the door to the guest bedroom upstairs you felt compelled to stop, your mind wandering to where Jack was at that very moment. Last you’d seen him that day he’d been bringing the horses in. The two of you had stopped to chat for awhile, your usual bitter-edged banter being exchanged, things playing out just as they should when suddenly that same familiar feeling started to make itself known, the same thing you’d felt when he’d handed you the painkillers, or when you two had been out on the veranda a little while back. That spark, so to speak, the frightening feeling of something burning in you, something that shouldn’t be there in the first place. You’d instinctively ended the conversation soon after, making up some excuse about needing to take care of some accounting and hurrying off. Thinking about it now you couldn’t stop yourself from going a tad pink in the cheeks at your behaviour, thoroughly embarrassed for daring to act like you were inflicted with something as trivial as a schoolgirl crush. 

Don’t be soft on him. Don’t do this. You’re better than this, those words you repeated to yourself like a mantra started to wear thin during those weeks, especially after the conversation you two had shared where you’d divulged some of the pain closest to your heart. You never thought that you’d tell anybody what you felt after your parents had died, not in a million years, so to have you in a position where you were comfortable enough to reveal such details was nothing short of astounding, particularly when one took into account the exact person you’d told it all to. You could justify these choices with the flimsy excuse of being drunk, but even you knew that in order to run your mouth about something that personal, even while intoxicated, meant you had to feel a certain amount of trust to the other person. Did you trust Jack? Was that what was happening here? To that, you couldn’t fully answer, as you didn’t really know. 

Glancing from the doorknob to the stairs and back, you twisted the handle and allowed yourself into the spare bedroom, letting your feet move you towards the closet at the back of the room. Like a woman possessed, you didn’t stop yourself from doing any of this, the feeling of your heartbeat ricocheting through your chest. It had been years since you permitted yourself to look at any of this stuff, let alone giving any of it a second thought. Out of sight, out of mind, you’d thought to yourself when you’d originally boxed it all away, not being able to bear throwing any of it out. Sliding the doors open, you took note of the fact that everything was left in its precise location indicating that true to his word, Jack hadn’t meddled in any of it. A small sigh of relief escaped your lips while you sunk to your knees, poking your head through the rows of old coats that you kept neglecting to donate or sell to the very back of the closet where your eyes locked onto what you’d been originally seeking: a plain velvet blue shoebox shoved underneath an ugly knitted blanket that you plainly despised. 

For as much of a hardline no-nonsense woman others perceived you as, a huge part of you was deeply sentimental towards both people and things, or more specifically, things people had given you, hence the choice to simply box up every gift and memento he’d ever given you rather than setting fire to it in some overly dramatic yet cinematic manner. When Jack and you had broken up, you’d gathered up everything that reminded you of him, thrown it in a box and then tossed it into the back of the closet of your apartment to be forgotten forever. When you’d taken over the family ranch from your parents, the box had ended up in the guest room closet instead due to you not wanting an object holding that many sorrowful memories anywhere near where you slept. Taking the box out and setting it down in front of you, you stared at it frostily for a minute, considering throwing it back into the closet and forgetting that you ever wanted to open it. Ultimately you caved, lifting the lid off and opening up the treasure trove of mementos, symbols of a love that used to be that became tarnished with time. 

A lot of the items in question were photographs, a couple of polaroid shots of the two of you out at some bar in New York thrown in with the myriad of photos depicting you on various other dates with him. One in particular that caught your eye was a polaroid that had a heart drawn in red permanent marker on the white margins - you were wearing Jack’s Stetson and had one arm thrown around his neck, looking as if you hadn’t a care in the world while he looked up at you with those heart-meltingly gorgeous brown eyes of his, as if nobody else in the world existed except for you. You could still recall the smell of the cigarette smoke from that day, how the loud music reverberated through your ears the entire night you’d spent there with your head rested against his shoulder, ignoring all your other friends in favour of him. You caught yourself grinning at the memory as if you were some kind of lovesick fool. Back then you might’ve been. Not anymore though. Not now.

That’s what you continued to tell yourself while you sorted through the box’s contents, pulling out items ranging from small bits of jewelry to a small cat plushie that he’d won for you at the county fair. Your gaze zeroed in on a small silver chain necklace with a little horseshoe charm dangling on the end, earning yet another foolish smirk from you. Jack had bought that for you as a Christmas present, although you had insisted to him that he didn’t have to go all out on a gift for you. He’d even gotten the underside engraved with your name, which you traced over with the pad of your finger at that very moment.

Looking through all these gifts and the significance they once held to you, your mind started to wander back to the possibility you’d considered during your last proper talk with Jack, questioning once more if he deserved such harsh hostility being thrown towards him. You didn’t want to let yourself be hurt again, so it only seemed logical to make yourself guarded and keep him at an arm's length. With that said, time and time again he’d managed to surprise you - he hadn’t been pestering you as much you thought he would. Sure, he did jokingly insinuate that one time you made him coffee that you were growing fond of him but other than that he’d kept the charm to a minimum, or at least, less than you were used to in the past. It all made sense to you after you’d learned what happened to him that brought him back to you, his magnificent fall from grace so to speak. You meant what you said to him that night - you didn’t think he was a bad person, rather just someone who’s done bad things out of hurt and anger. With everything he told you about his wife’s death, you couldn’t help feeling a sense of powerful empathy towards him, a feeling that scared you a little to tell you the truth. It’d been easy for years to write him off as a liar and a player, but in reality, Jack was far more complicated than that.  How ironic: the advice you gave him ended up being a hundred percent relevant to yourself at the same time, you huffed with an absence of amusement. 

If you had to be completely honest with yourself, without any kind of lies or facade to keep up, you didn’t know what you felt about Jack anymore. You couldn’t say you hated him, no, hate was far too strong of a word. Actually, you couldn’t really say you even disliked him that much anymore. But you didn’t really like him either. Or did you? Once again, the thoughts of how his touch had made you feel over those last few weeks invaded your mind, things that by all means shouldn’t make you feel some type of way but did. Hell, even how you continued to make his coffee exactly how he liked it every morning, not bothering to question it anymore than necessary for the sake of your own sanity. 

Shaking your head, you let out a heavy sigh as you glowered down at the box witheringly. Great, now you’d made yourself confused on your own emotions, all because you felt the need to reminisce on the past. You’re being ridiculous about this. You don’t feel that way about Jack, and if you did, you can’t have him. He’s on the run, he’s a criminal now, and more to the point he broke your heart once. Who’s to say he won’t do it twice? Do yourself a favour for once. Ignore those feelings. Ignore it, and they’ll go away.

You quickly boxed up everything soon after that, pushing it to the back of the closet as if you’d never been there at all. Lifting yourself to your feet, you neglected to look back when you maneuvered yourself out the door and back into the hall, pulling your mind back towards any kind of ranch duties you could muster up out of thin air that you had to attend to, anything that could distract you from the small pink tinge that had crept across your cheeks that refused to leave, or the racing of your heart with every step you took. 

 __________

After a day that felt like it dragged on forever, you’d been looking forward to turning in for the night. For whatever reason, everything that could have gone wrong that day decided to go wrong - one of the horses had done a runner during one of the riding lessons and you’d had to go out and try to catch the bastard. It took forever to rope the damn horse back into the property. Jack, you and another one of the instructors managed to catch him in the end but it ended up setting your schedule behind for the rest of the day. Later on in the day, some entitled kid had come down and decided he didn’t like the horse he’d been assigned to ride, waltzing right into the stables and picking out one that he deemed more suited for him. The horse, one of the older boys, was understandably annoyed by this random loud kid appearing out of nowhere and being rough with him, leading to said entitled brat getting chomped on the arm. The rest of the day had to be spent dealing with the screaming kid and his mother, who was every bit as entitled as her son was. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? Despite your damndest to put on a smile and placate the woman who was screaming threats of a lawsuit, she still wasn’t letting up so you’d metaphorically thrown your hands up in frustration and told her straight to shut up. She’d left soon after that, huffing and threatening to get your entire business shut down. You weren’t scared in the least of her empty threats: you’d dealt with hundreds of other people just like her in your stint running the ranch and nine times out of ten nothing ever came from their tantrums. It was still supremely exhausting to deal with, draining your energy and putting you in a foul mood for the rest of the day. 

You’d been angling to end the day as soon as the first instance of idiocy started, so when it was finally late enough in the night and you’d grown tired of the bottle of merlot that you’d been speeding your way through, you’d taken yourself upstairs, thrown on a random t-shirt and sweatpants, and sunk right into bed ready to forget it all and start over.

However, you weren’t so lucky. From the moment you’d first entered your room that night, something had felt off. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it at first, so you’d tried to ignore it, writing it off as feeling slightly on edge from the rough day. The weird feeling wouldn’t go away though - everytime you closed your eyes, you felt like someone else was there, like there was another presence nearby. Five minutes passed before you’d flicked the lamp next to your bed on and looked around the room. You knew Jack had already gone to bed before you, and you couldn’t hear any sort of noise from downstairs that would indicate someone else being there. Nevertheless, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone else was there, maybe not in the house precisely but somewhere on the property, as if there were a pair of foreign eyes staring at you from afar. Your eyes darted towards the window, the curtains open to reveal the glimmering starry sky outside, your breath becoming shallow as you were finally able to place the exact feeling that was making you tense up in fear:

You felt like you were being watched. 

Diving out of bed, you scrambled towards the window and scanned the vast expanse of countryside surrounding your property, searching to see if there was anything out there that was unfamiliar to you. Nothing - all you could see were the stretches of field that lay beyond your ranch, with a lone few collection of trees situated off the edge of your property, exactly as it always looked. That alone should have eased your nerves a bit but for whatever reason that feeling of being watched wouldn’t go away. You glanced back at your bed, trying to talk yourself into downplaying it all as you being paranoid. There isn’t anyone out there.You’ve had a rough day, and about three glasses of wine so you’re a little bit tipsy too, you told yourself as you trudged back to bed and pulled the covers over your head, a useless action that did nothing to quell the anxiety festering in you. For the next twenty minutes or so, you did everything you could to push your unease away in favour of sleep to no avail. The entire time you’d been lying there you felt like there were a pair of eyes burning into your back, directly across from where the window was, yet every time you sat yourself up to check there was nobody there. 

Fantastic, guess I’m not sleeping tonight then. Clearly, that creepy feeling wasn’t going to leave and you didn’t feel comfortable in that room anymore. Briefly you contemplated going down to sleep on the couch but that idea was dismissed almost as quickly as it came to you - if you felt like someone was watching the house, then moving sleeping locations wasn’t gonna solve anything. A part of you wanted to go grab a firearm and go on a patrol around the property to be safe, though once remembering that you were a little bit tipsy you didn’t feel it would be the best course of action to go hold a gun right then. Throwing a single glance towards your bedroom door, another idea popped into your head, and before you could try and talk yourself out of it you were already out the door and down the hall to where the spare bedroom was. 

Opening the door as quietly as you possibly could, you poked your head inside and peered over to where Jack was laying in bed, covers tangled up around him and facing away from you, appearing to be fast asleep. “Jack? Are...are you awake?” you called out hesitantly. 

It took a minute for him to respond, by that time you’d come close to convincing yourself that you were being a baby about all of this and that you should go back to bed. “Darlin’? Is there somethin’ wrong?” he replied, his thick southern drawl sounding groggy, matching his dazed expression he wore while he fought to keep his eyes open. 

“Sort of...maybe, I don’t know...I can’t sleep” you admitted. 

“Having nightmares or somethin’?” he asked, sitting himself up in bed to properly face you. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander down his torso ever so briefly - it wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen a million times before but damn, he did look good. Shaking your head fervently, you attempted to ignore that fleeting thought and focused back on what you’d come there to say, proceeding to reply. “No, no, nothing like that. I just...ok, this might sound a little bit crazy but I can’t help feeling like I’m being watched in there, and it’s freaking me out”.

You could see Jack’s brow furrow through the darkness, a look of concern creeping over his face while he thought on what you’d just said. “Watched? Like how?”. 

“I don’t really know how to explain it, if I’m gonna be totally honest. All I know is that everytime I close my eyes I feel like there’s somebody outside. Whenever I go to look out the window though, I don’t see anyone” you explained, and at almost the very second you finished your sentence you could see Jack’s eyes widen, the last remnants of sleep falling away and being replaced by an alert and alarmed expression. Before you could say anything about it, he was already throwing the covers off him and sliding out of bed, hustling over to where you were standing by the door. “Stay right here. I’ll go take a look for myself” he instructed sternly, pushing himself past you and making a beeline straight for your bedroom. Instinctively, and in all honesty against both his wishes and your own better judgement, you followed in behind him, seeing him linger close to the wall just enough so that he was out of direct sight of the window. Slowly, he advanced forward to a position where he could properly take a look out, his eyes steely as they examined the landscape, the tensity of his demeanour feeding into your own feelings of concern. 

“Jack, what’s going on?” you asked in a small voice, something that was uncharacteristically meek of you. In all fairness, something like this had never happened before. You’d hoped that Jack would come in, take a quick look, confirm there was nobody on the property and give you a little bit of peace of mind but the way he was acting made the possibility of someone actually being out there all the more real to you. 

“Darlin’, I’m sorry, but I’m gonna need you to be quiet for a second” he orders, not tearing his eyes away from the window for a single second. You didn’t know how long you two stood there for - it was probably no more than a minute or two at most, even so it felt like an eternity to you, until at long last you saw some of the tension in Jack’s shoulders dissipate and he finally slunk away from the window. “Give me a second, I just gotta go check something” he mumbled, dashing back out of your room and still looking vaguely distressed at the entire predicament. This time around, you did as he said, not wanting to leave the house on the off chance there really was something to worry about. You heard him run back into his own room briefly before darting off downstairs, hearing the unmistakable click of the front door lock opening. You had no idea what to make of any of this - why was he acting so weird? Was there something you should know? Was there really something to your weird feeling and should you be genuinely scared?

The sound of gravel crunching from the ground below alerted you, leading for you to wander over to the window for what felt like the millionth time that night to see for yourself what was going on. Your eyes first landed on Jack, who was pacing the gravel and looking off into the distance, searching for something. You could see he was holding something in his hand but couldn’t quite get a proper look at it as he was angled away from you. He disappeared from your view and a moment later he was back upstairs with you, appearing to be infinitely more relieved than he was before. Now you could properly see what he’d gone to fetch from his room once he’d left: his gun from his days as an agent, the moonlight streaming in through the window glimmering off the silver barrels and onto the floor. 

“Nothin’ out there, thank fucking christ” he sighed, giving you a smile that was meant to be comforting. His gesture did nothing to ease your worries, despite the confirmation that there wasn’t anything out there like you’d originally hoped. Along with still feeling uneasy being in that room, there was also the matter of what you’d witnessed in Jack before, the plain and unconcealable look of suspicion and worry that had been showing on him. 

“Are you alright? You...seemed worried. The way you were looking out that window, it was...like you were searching for something in particular...”.

“It’s nothing, sweetheart. Don’t worry your pretty little head off about it” he dismissed, obviously wanting to put this whole incident behind the two of you. You were having none of it, so you pressed further, taking a single step closer to where he was standing in the door. “You sure about that? ‘Cause you kinda got your gun out” you pointed out, your eyes flickering down to the weapon resting in his hands knowingly. “Did you think it was Statesman or something?”.

Jack looked surprised that you’d dared to be that direct in your line of questioning. He supposed he shouldn’t have expected any less from you, following your eyes down to where he was holding his gun. “Well, if I’m gonna be honest, yeah. For a moment there, I was worried they’d found me somehow. But there isn’t anybody out there - besides, if they were doin’ surveillance on the house they woulda had me led away in cuffs already. You’re safe as pie, sugar” he confessed. 

Exactly as you thought. You’d wondered if Statesman would ever make an appearance, suddenly becoming hot on Jack’s tail. So far nothing had happened, thankfully, and seeing as your strange feeling tonight turned out to be nothing, you permitted yourself to relax a little, despite the still present feeling of discomfort from being in that room. “Alright...thank you for checking. Sorry I woke you up for something stupid”. 

“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. I haven’t been sleeping great this last week anyway so I wasn’t even fully asleep when you came in. You make sure to get plenty of rest, ok?” he nodded towards you, turning to leave the room, the comfort of his presence slipping away from you and leaving you to feel the same odd and uncomfortable unrest that plagued you all night. 

Glancing back over towards your bed, you dreaded the thought of trying to go back to sleep in that thing tonight. It sounded so childish and silly for you to say, or rather think, but you really didn’t want to be in that room tonight. If you stay in here you aren’t gonna get a wink of sleep.

What you did next was something you never thought you’d do in a million years. In your defense, it’d been a long day, you’d had some alcohol earlier, and you just had to deal with the intense unnerve of being watched only to discover that your feeling was nothing more than a spate of paranoia. With all that taken into account, it was only logical that you asked what you did next. “Jack, wait” you called out before you could stop yourself, freezing once you saw him stop in the hallway and turn back towards you with those sweet eyes of his. “Look, I know this is an odd request but...can I sleep in your room? Only for tonight. I don’t know, I still feel a little on edge and it’s dumb but I’d rather be around someone else right now” you mumbled, simultaneously hating yourself for asking in the first place and feeling utterly embarrassed at your own audacity. 

Some part of you wanted him to laugh in your face. Laugh at you and make some stupid little quip about you being a “big girl” who could handle herself. It would be easier to hate him still that way. Of course, he didn’t do that at all. What he did instead was give you the sweetest damn smile you’d ever seen from him, different from those charming smirks you were used to and harkened closer to those rare moments from when you two were together that he would lay down the bravado and be vulnerable. “Sugar, you don’t need to feel bad for askin’ at all. I understand completely where you’re comin’ from” he reassured, holding his hand out and beckoning for you to come forward. And come forward you did, following him out into the hall and into his own room, the anxiety from before fading into nothing and being replaced by relief. 

“Thank you. I know we’re not...like that anymore but…” you stumbled dumbly as you glided over towards the bed, fatigue overcoming your brain and making you more impatient to be in bed and asleep as fast as possible. It had to be extremely late by then and you wanted to get a decent amount of sleep before having to get up and go about with business as usual the next day.  

Jack, meanwhile, was on the other side of the room throwing his gun back into a chest of drawers. “Say no more, honeybee. If you want, I can sleep on the floor if it makes you more comfortable” he posited, to which you promptly snapped your head back up and stared at him as if he were crazy. “You don’t have to do that, Jack, I’m not about to be kicking you out of your bed”. 

“Technically it’s your bed, not mine”. 

Rolling your eyes at him, you flopped down on the pillow and sighed. “Doesn’t matter, just...stay here. I’d rather have someone close right now, ok?”. If you weren’t already tired beyond all reason, your brain might have been fretting over the oh so horrific implications of staying in the same bed as him, though if you were really being honest you couldn’t care less right then. It’s not like sleeping in the same bed meant anything, plenty of people did that all the time. So what if you wanted someone near after feeling scared? Wouldn’t someone else do the same thing in your position?

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart. I’ll keep to the other side of the bed if you’d like” Jack assured you, sliding into the other side, doing exactly as he said and keeping a safe enough distance from you. It might’ve been silly for you to care so much, but you had to admit it was nice having someone else be there, and at the least it calmed your anxiety enough for you to feel fine sleeping. Stealing one last brief glance over at him, you wished him goodnight and let yourself relax truly for the first time in hours, letting the world fall away and fade into nothing as you closed your eyes and passed out in mere minutes of being there.

 ___________

When you awoke the next morning, it was to the strands of sunlight streaming through the parted breaks in the curtain, shining right over your face and rousing you from your slumber. Through bleary eyes, you became aware of the room around you, memories of the night before flooding back to you instantaneously. You noticed you felt warmer, becoming aware of the heavy feeling on your body, which caused your eyes to snap open fully. Looking back over your shoulder, you saw Jack, still sleeping and curled into your back, his arm lazily stung around you. You knew you two hadn’t fallen asleep like that, reasoning that he must have reached out to you during the night, leading to the position you were in now. You could feel the light tickle of his breath against the nape of your neck, something so small managing to light an unexpected spark in your heart. You should have pushed him off. You should have woken him up. You should have done a million other things in that moment instead of the one thing you did.

When instead of flinging him off you and darting out of bed like a skittish cat you curled yourself further into his light embrace, the mortifying realisation hitting you right then with a full force - Jack Daniels, the man who’d broken your heart, was caressing you in his sleep.

And you didn’t mind it, not one single bit.

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