#〓 ◟ ( study. ) ↬ because the air tastes like ashes .

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Boyfriend's Best friend | Han Jisung

•Synopsis: Like the embers shared between you and your boyfriend's bestie, boundaries are burned away until there's nothing but smoke and ash. Can you come back from being too badly burned by the mistake you two made? Or will the bitter taste remain, ruining everything?

•Pairings: Han Jisung x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, heavy use of weed, betrayal, lies, secrets, regret, heartbreak, college au, friends to ?

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

Your boyfriend of one year is cheating on you.

You knew that; he just doesn't know that you know. Even his best friend knows you know, but out of respect for your wishes, he's kept quiet. Why? Because despite Danny and Jisung being inseparable since diapers, Jisung has been a true friend to you since you met Danny at the coffee shop years ago. Jisung isn't just someone you share music theory class with; he's also the vocalist and lead guitarist of the band Respirator, where you play the drums.

So you've got an alliance with Jisung. He was there for you the night you found out. Alone in the campus auditorium, you texted Jisung. Your first instinct was to call your best friend Ana, but interrupting her date with Chris was out of the question. Jisung stayed with you in that cold, creepy theater and let you cry into his chest for hours. He just couldn't understand why you continued to stay, why you continued to let Danny fuck you, knowing he's fucking someone else. He knew where his friend was before he'd come back to their shared apartment and yet he'd hear your moans through the poorly insulated walls.

“I have no excuse for him, Y/N. He's an asshole for playing you like this. I've tried to get him to see the error of his ways, but fuck… he's only thinking with his dick,” Jisung says, shaking his head and glancing at his friend who's fast asleep on the couch.

A night of forgotten textbooks and study notes overtaken by weed, beer, and pizza has knocked your boyfriend out cold. You don't look in the direction of the couch; instead, you inhale the hot smoke from the joint between your fingers, letting your head fall back before blowing the smoke into the air. You lay down on the hard cedarwood floor, your foot lightly bumping one of the many pillows piled up in one corner where Jisung sits.

“Yeah, there's no point in talking to him, Ji. He'll only do what he wants, not what's right,” you say, taking another hit and passing it over to Jisung.

Your fingers brush when he reaches for it, and you feel tempted to crawl over to him so he can hug the numb feeling in your chest away. You could use some genuine affection after watching Danny sneak off earlier with the excuse of needing to speak to his Tech professor. But if Mr. Campbell has turned into a little blonde with pigtails and a short pink skirt, then he most definitely wasn't in a meeting with his professor.

The little blonde… you don't even know who she is or if she even goes to college. The only thing you know is that you are nothing like her. Where her wardrobe is probably ninety percent pink, yours is ninety percent black. Typical style of a girl in a band: your jeans have rips in them and are either too tight or too loose. Your shirts are a bit of the same; sometimes they hug the curves of your breasts and waist, other times they swallow you up. Your thoughts are heavy in your smoky, hazy mind, and the soft strumming from Jisung's guitar sets the ambiance of your momentary self-pity.

“Maybe I should change up my style, Ji. Do you think then he might love me again?”

God, that sounds awful, you think as soon as the words leave your mouth. You cover your face with your hands and then drape them over your stomach. The baggy My Chemical Romance band tee has bunched up, and your midsection feels the occasional breeze from the open window, making you shiver.

“Nah, Y/N, don't think that. Your style is what makes you, you. If he can't see how hot you are no matter what you wear, then that's his problem, not yours,” Jisung says seriously.

You hear him suck in the smoke and exhale slowly. With heavy lids, you turn your head to the side and look at him. He smiles as his fingers glide over the strings of his fiery red guitar, his eyes half-lidded and pink with a lazy smile.

“Thanks, Ji,” you mumble and return the equally lazy smile.

He keeps his eyes on you, his gaze lingering longer than usual, and it unexpectedly makes your pulse race. There's something about his eyes that has always had a hypnotic effect on you. Siren eyes, they lure you in, making it impossible to escape unless he lets his gaze drop. He closes his eyes when the smoke threatens to get in them, breaking the hold you weren’t even aware he had on you.

The joint hangs from his lips, a thin trail of smoke billowing up around the rim of his hat and curling toward the ceiling. He inhales slowly, the smoke filling his lungs before he exhales and opens his eyes, watching the way you look at him. So laid-back with that dreamy expression on your face, his thoughts betray him for the third time tonight. An image created from smoke appears in his mind: you're looking at him exactly the way you are now, only you're on your knees as he cradles your face in his hands, fucking himself into your warm mouth. That’s the tamest fantasy he's had tonight. The others are far more explicit, like scenes pulled straight from a hentai.

Throughout the night, Jisung struggled to focus on any of his study material. It wasn't just because he was mentally drained from studying. Sure, that was part of it, but the sight of you chewing on your lush pink lips while you went over your notes for music theory kept distracting him. They looked so soft and your constant chewing made them red and puffy. He wondered if you dug your teeth into the flesh just like that when Danny was inside you. He couldn't help but picture you whimpering and whining past your trapped bottom lip while he drilled his dick into your sweet pussy. He already knows what you sound like so it's not hard to imagine the faces you would make.

He couldn't shake the image of those same lips of yours being covered in his warm, sticky cum. His imagination was too vivid with you right in front of him and the weed from the gummy he ate before you and Danny showed up. He had been rock hard and throbbing for hours, making studying beyond frustrating. It turned into a battle with his own mind. So he was more than happy to welcome the smoke sesh. Sure, he felt a bit guilty for daydreaming about his buddy's girl, but it's not like he'd ever act on it. It's all just harmless thoughts, he told himself. It's not like he was in love with you or anything… he just found you to be the embodiment of perfection in human form. Seriously, Danny calls you Jisung's twin more times than you're aware, so it's natural for him to think of you as the coolest chick he's ever met. You wouldn't be in the band he created if he didn't think highly of you.

“You want another hit?” he asks, holding the joint out to you with his index finger and thumb.

Your eyes lock onto his hands, noticing the multiple silver rings that decorate each of his long fingers and the veins that crisscross the back of his. More times than you can count you've heard girls talking about how sexy his hands were and you never noticed how right they are until now. Noticing the way his fingers loosely wraps around the neck of the guitar, your brain goes to the gutter and starts wondering if that's how he holds his cock when he's jerking off to the sound of you getting fucked. You know he does it. You could see it in his face one day when you bumped into him on the way to the bathroom. His hair stuck to his forehead, his cheeks were flushed and the large swallow he made when your bodies connected told you what he was doing in the next room.

With a slow nod, you sit up and move closer and take it from him, your fingers brushing against his again only this time there's something that passes between you but you ignore it, bringing the joint to your lips and taking a deep drag.

You inhale deeply, letting the smoke fill your lungs before you exhale slowly, watching the tendrils curl into the air. You feel the heat, the burn of the smoke and it feels almost euphoric. The room feels warmer, cozier, and everything with your boyfriend is forgotten for now with more thc in you. Jisung watches you, completely captivated by the way you wrap your lips around the filter end gently and suck in the smoke. His eyes darken for just a second before he pats the space in front of him on the floor.

“Come here, I'll teach you the basics,” he says, his voice low and inviting.

“Really?” you ask excitedly after taking another puff and setting the joint into the ashtray. He chuckles, nodding with a large smile your way.

You close the distance, settling between his legs with your back to his front and it feels like the most normal natural thing in the world. He hands you the instrument resting it in your lap, and his arms encircle you as he guides your hands to the strings. The heat of his body seeps into yours, and you can feel his breath against your neck, slow and even. His breath is warm, smelling faintly of the weed you just shared, and sugary soda that's oddly comforting to you.

“What song do you want to play?” he asks, his voice a soft hush against your ear. The sensation to your ear and the deep rumble on your back from when he speaks, makes you shiver involuntarily.

You think for a moment, your mind swimming through the smoky haze and then you smile. "Thinking Out Loud?" you say phrasing it like a question.

He chuckles softly, his breath tickling your ear. "Ah, my man Sheeran. Good choice, y/n. Not gonna lie, I thought you'd pick one of our songs." he murmurs, taking your hand in his and begins to guide your fingers over the strings.

The notes are clumsy at first, your movements unsure but Jisung is patient, his hands steady as he teaches you the chords. You giggle softly as you fumble through the chords, “Good thing I'm a drummer. This is harder than it looks.” You say with a laugh and Jisung’s laughter mingles with yours.

His hands are warm and strong, his touch firm but gentle. He's the perfect guitar teacher, kind and informative. Once you start to get the hang of playing, he lets you play on your own, his arms still loosely around you, elbows resting on his knees. He begins to sing softly, his voice smooth and melodic fills the room and your heart with a warm, fuzzy feeling.

"... People fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a hand,"

His voice is mesmerizing, hypnotic even and you’re impressed. You've heard him sing but nothing as soft as this. Each note wraps around you like a tight embrace. You join in on the last four verses, the thc boosting your confidence and your voices come together sweetly. The song ends with the last note and chord lingering in the air. You’re giggling excitedly, so lost in the music, that you almost don’t notice the hardness pressing against your back until your laughter subsides. Your body feels suddenly hot when you do, a flush spreading across your skin. You turn your head slightly to look at him, intending to say something, but the words catch in your throat.

He knows you can feel it, how can you not? He's rock hard. It's not that he was thinking of anything particularly sexy. It was your singing voice that did it for him. The way your voices mingled together sounded hauntingly beautiful to him. Not to mention the barely noticeable vibration through your body when you sang. He has no control over the effect you had on him. He willed is dick to go down the entire time you two sang but there was nothing he could do but pray you wouldn't notice. That was out of the question once your laughter shook your body. His cock twitched  inside of his shorts, pulsating against your back. He held his breath and hoped you wouldn't say anything but you turned to look at him. You parted your lips prepared to speak but said nothing, only quiet panting made its way out of you. The way you looked at him, the way you felt in his arms and your lips, right there so close to his, made something inside of him crack.

Before you can react, Jisung’s lips are on yours, kissing you with sudden urgency. Your mind goes blank, every thought drowned out by the intensity of the kiss. His hands are on your hips, pulling you back closer to him like you'll drift away like the smoke of the joints from earlier. You can’t help but respond, your fingers tangling in his hair knocking his hat off as you kiss him back desperate for more. Jisung’s grip on you tightens as his tongue explores your mouth with a desperate need. The guitar is forgotten, pushed aside as he shifts, turning you so that you're facing him. He gently lays you down onto the pile of pillows on the floor, his body pressing you down into the pile that feels like clouds. The sensation is overwhelming, every touch, every kiss, it's all amplified by the cannabis coursing through your veins.

"Y/N," Jisung whispers, his voice rough with desire, as he presses his clothed erection against your core. The friction is maddening, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you and you moan in response as your hips come up off the ground, bucking against him.

You're not thinking anymore, your hands just move on their own seeking more of what's making you feel so good. Everything around you is hazy and black around the edges like a dream. All you’re aware of is the incredible sensation that seems to take over your entire body.

"Jisung…" you breathe, your voice trembling.

He looks at you, his eyes dark with desire. He silently pleads for you to tell him to stop but you can't. You don't want him to stop. You want him, need him in a way that you can't describe with words.

"Don't stop." you whisper back, your voice barely audible. “More.”

He growls low in his throat, his hands squeezing your hips as he starts to move faster, the pressure building, driving you both closer to the edge. It feels incredible, each rub, each thrust sending sparks of electricity through you. Jisung’s hips move faster, his breath coming in harsh pants as he grinds against you. You can feel yourself getting close, building to a crescendo and you know he's close too, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He doesn't care that he's about to cum in his pants just from dry humping you. You feel so damn incredible in his arms. But you stop him suddenly, your hands on his chest and he looks at you with wide glassy eyes. 

"I need you inside me." you say, your voice breathy and husky.

He stops his movements, his eyes searching yours. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice thick with lust.

You nod, your hands moving to his shorts, tugging them down. "Yes. Please. Fuck me, Jisung."

In the haze of weed and pleasure, a thought cuts through the fog. This is wrong. Danny is just a few feet away, sleeping peacefully in Jisung’s bed. But the thought is fleeting, quickly drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of Jisung’s body pressing into yours. He fumbles with his shorts, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. You lift your hips, helping him slide your leggings and panties down in one quick move. Back between your legs, he positions himself at your entrance and a bead of precum forms, dripping down and disappearing into one of the pillows. His eyes meet yours as he rubs the head of his cock up and over your folds, collecting your arousal and getting tip nice and wet. You shudder keeping your eyes locked onto his. 

He rubs the length of his cock against you, teasing your clit in a circular motion. Maybe if he doesn't actually fuck you, it's not that big of a betrayal to his friend, he thinks lamely, knowing how idiotic that sounds. Still, Jisung convinces himself that if there's no actual penetration, maybe he won't feel so guilty. If he just gets you both off like this, he could somewhat live with himself.

Your body shakes under him each time he thrusts upward, and he can feel your pussy getting wetter, making things far more slippery. "Yeah, you can cum like this, y/n, I know you can. Just cum like this for me. Fuck, let me cum on your stomach, and we can innocently continue our night," he coaxes you inside his head, his hips moving faster. You're so wet that Jisung slips and slides over your pussy with ease. He misjudges when he goes to push up again, moving far too quickly and slams hard into your cunt, making you both moan louder than intended. Both of you freeze, glancing over at Danny as he shifts in his sleep and rolls over to face the back of the couch.

“Oh fuck,” you and Jisung groan quietly in unison, trying to stay still with your hearts beating fast with fear.

"Fuck, you're so tight, y/n," he groans, his voice quiet and strained. "You feel so fucking good."

He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, allowing you to adjust to his size. But it doesn't take long for the need to take over and soon he's fucking you forcefully and fast, his hips slamming into yours with a desperate intensity. Each thrust hits a spot deep inside you, that makes you want to scream. You close your eyes and see spots of lights behind your lids in the same purple hue that glows around the TV in the room. You can barely form coherent thoughts, the pleasure overwhelming your senses. All you can do is moan his name, over and over, as he takes your pleasure higher. The room is filled with the slapping sounds of skin against skin, the wet, obscene noises of your arousal mixing with your moans and his grunts.

He leans down, capturing your lips again in a searing kiss. His tongue explores your mouth with the same intensity as his thrusts and you can taste the sweet saltiness of his sweat on his skin. His hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples through your bra, adding to the onslaught of sensations. You can’t keep your hands off him, your fingers dig into his back as he fucks you hard, gliding down his skin making thin faint red lines. Jisung's thoughts are a mess. He's never felt like this before, never been this out of control. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, that he's betraying his best friend, but he can't stop. Your pussy feels too good to him, too perfect. You're perfect. The way your pussy pulls him in and squeezes his cock. It's heaven to him.

“So wet… oh god. So fucking perfect, y/n. Fuck,” he whispers, looking down at you.

You can only moan in response, your nails digging into his shoulders as he thrusts harder, faster. The pleasure is a flame setting you both ablaze. It’s messy and intense, growing bigger and wilder with every touch and movement amplified by the high.

“Say my name,” he demands, his voice rough.

Jisung’s dominance surprises you, the way he takes control, guiding your body with a confidence that leaves you breathless. You open your eyes and gasp at the expression on his face. His face is a contradiction of emotions.

“Jisung!” you cry out, the pleasure overwhelming.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, his hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit. He rubs it in time with his thrusts, sending you spiraling toward the edge. “Just like that, baby,” he groans, with a smirk on his lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Ji… Jisung, I’m close.” you gasp, your hands pulling him closer. He speeds up, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. The tension coils tighter and tighter inside you.

"Cum when I tell you to, y/n. Just a little more." he moans, closing his eyes. "Ah! Little more, a little more, baby. Yeah... oh fuck." He whispers, slowing his pace to pull out of you completely and thrust back in quickly.

He can feel himself getting closer and he starts to move faster. His thrusts become more frantic, more crazed, and you can’t hold back any longer. You can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, the pleasure is too overwhelming. You cry out, arching your back and squeezing your eyes shut tight as your body tenses and the orgasm hits. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure floods through your veins leaving you breathless, shaking.

"Ji, Ji I'm cumming!" you gasp, your hands gripping him hard feeling him batter your cervix with the head of his cock.

Jisung’s grip tightens on your hips, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Yeah, cum for me," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "Cum all over my cock, baby. Oh fuck!"

Your walls clench around him, milking his cock as he continues to pound into you. With a loud moan, you fall apart. Your orgasm rips through you with an intensity that leaves you feeling utterly and thoroughly fucked and incapacitated.

"Fuck, I'm cumming, y/n! I'm cumming-Ah!" he groans loudly, eyes squeezing shut.

He thrusts a few more times before he cums, spilling into you as he moans your name. The feeling of his warmth filling you is almost too much and it prolongs your orgasm, leaving you trembling and spent beneath him.

For a few seconds you both don't move, panting hard as your breathing slowly returns to its regular pace but as the high of the orgasm fades, reality crashes down like a tidal wave. Jisung pulls out of you quickly, his face full of panic and regret.

"What the fuck did we do?" he mutters, more to himself than to you. His hands shake as he runs them through his hair, over and over, looking like he's on the verge of a breakdown.

“What did I do? I'm dreaming... yeah. I gotta be,” he screams internally. But the warmth of your pussy around him, still lingers, insisting otherwise. He glances down, seeing his cock slick and creamy with your cum, more undeniable evidence of what just happened. This wasn’t a weed-induced wet dream; he’s done the unthinkable— he's fucked his best friend's girlfriend.

You sit up and reach out to comfort him, but he flinches away from your touch, the gesture cutting you like a knife. "I don’t regret it," you whisper, your voice trembling but sincere. But the look on his face is clear; he does.

"We can’t do this again," Jisung says, his voice firm but soft. "No matter how amazing it felt, we can’t. I... I can't betray Danny like that again, jagi. Fuck, y/n. I'm sorry."

Despite knowing you shouldn't, you can't help it; you lean in and your lips meet his. For a sweet, blissful second, Jisung kisses you back. You could blame your actions on the weed but you know you're more aware when you're high than when you're drunk. Jisung breaks the kiss and covers his mouth with his hands, glancing over at his sleeping friend.

“This is wrong, y/n. So, so fucking wrong,” he whispers, his voice filled with pain. “I've known Danny since we were in diapers. What happened... It was a mistake. We can't…”

His face is full of pain and confusion, tears threatening to spill over. You want to reach out, to comfort him, but he doesn't even want you near him let alone touch him now. That realization shatters you. Your own eyes sting with the threat of tears and you turn away, quickly gathering your clothes to hide your face.

You nod, fighting back tears as you get dressed. The lingering taste of weed on your tongue now tastes like ash and guilt gnaws at your insides at seeing Jisung so conflicted. He watches you, his silence heavy with all the words he wishes he could say. He wants to stop you, to pull you into his arms and kiss away the tears that threaten to fall but he knows he can't. You're Danny's girlfriend even if he doesn't deserve you. Jisung's already fucked up once, he can't again no matter what his heart is telling him.

Your hands are trembling while you fumble to pull on your pants, wishing there was something you could say to make things better. The silence is deafening, broken only by your shaky breathing and Danny's soft snoring. You gather your textbooks and notes, desperately trying to hold yourself together, to not break down before you can make out the door. Jisung lets you go, his heart breaking with every step you take. Inside, he's screaming for you to stay, but he doesn’t move. He just lets you go because he knows that it’s for the best.

"I'm sorry, Ji." you say, your voice cracking. "I’m so sorry..."

Your voice sounds broken and It's barely audible, but it feels like a scream in the silence. When your hand turns the knob, the tears finally spill over and you rush through the open door. The door closes behind you with a finality that feels like a knife to the heart.

Jisung stares blankly at the door as it shuts, the lingering scent of sex and weed hanging in the air. The bitter taste of disloyalty and heartache, like poison, is bitter on his tongue. He collapses onto the floor after pulling up his shorts and buries his face in his hands. The room feels emptier than ever and Danny's sleeping presence is a constant reminder of the betrayal, making him want to throw up.

"Y/N... what the fuck have we done?" he whispers to himself, his voice breaking with a choking sob, wondering if you two will ever get through this without being burned even more.

★𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱★

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[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 48 (He Had Him At Hello, Bromance Edition)

Leaving her friends in Old New Henford after dark, Heather, Ash, and Conrad returned to her childhood home with her parents.

They found River and Cassandra still in their work clothes, the two having spent most of the evening trying to get their infant son to sleep. "Doctor Scott says its a phase, it'll pass, but when he doesn't sleep well, we don't sleep well," lamented River. "These days we're thrilled if he sleeps for more than two hours at a time."

Conrad already felt at ease around her siblings, and Heather left them chatting upstairs while her parents showed her the new plants in their always impressive garden. When Michael woke up fussy, she soothed him back to sleep to give his tired parents a break.

Upstairs, River studied Conrad with keen interest. His sister's taste in men had always been a little...off, and he wanted to be sure this one deserved her. "Driving between San Myshuno and Brindleton Bay must not be easy."

"We make it work," said Conrad. "We're waiting for me to get a transfer, but all that driving can be pretty tiring."

"Sometimes I dance just to keep myself awake," said Cass, grooving a little to the music. "Since I left the art studio to help my mother-in-law with her floral business, it's been a bit easier working from home. I never realized the artistry involved in floral arranging, but I can be just as creative with a bouquet of flowers as I can with a palette of acrylics!"

Conrad couldn't relate, but he empathized with their lack of sleep. "I don't know much about raising kids, but Ash likes a story I tell him that my mom used to read to me when I was a kid. The Giving Tree."

"I love that story," Cassandra mused. "I think I saw a copy at the bookstore in the square."

River nodded. "I'll try anything. I'll pick up a copy tomorrow." Despite his fatigue, River's wall crumbled as he got to know Conrad. "What made you think our sister was worth risking your career?"

The question was sincere. Conrad had asked himself the same thing a thousand times. "At first I thought it was because her son needed her more than the Landgraabs needed a win, but then they dropped the charges and I couldn't stop thinking about her. I booked a vet appointment four hours out of the way just to run into her again."

"Why didn't you ask her out, then?"

"River, stop interrogating him," Hazel pushed, but Conrad smiled.

"I wanted to, but I knew she'd been through a lot and I wanted her to be sure she was ready. I sort of knew it would be it for me if I knew she was interested."

"It's a good thing Holly intervened," said Hazel, smiling. "You might still be waiting for her, otherwise."

River grinned. "He definitely would be."

Hazel left to meet Nicola and some friends at the Gnome's Arms, and River and Cassandra finally changed and sat down to dinner. Because they could know no peace, Ash talked their ear off about dinosaurs. "Conerd say t-rex no swim, we safe," he babbled. "T-rex roar!"

"You know there were less scary dinosaurs," River said. "Smaller ones who ate plants. Also big ones. Like brontosaurus."

Ash listened with intense curiosity. "Bront-so-us?"

"Yeah, they were even bigger than your dad's apartment."

Cassandra stifled a laugh. "River, hush."

They were interrupted when Michael woke again from his nap, wailing from the bedroom. With her plate still full of food, Cass left to tend to her son as Heather walked into the kitchen. "We should probably head out. It'll still be an hour on the Simmerloop at this time of night, and we should get Ash to bed before midnight."

Cassandra brought Michael outside for their goodbyes, but the fussy infant didn't last long in the cool autumn air.

River, meanwhile, had found a new best friend in Conrad. "When I found out my sister was dating a cop I wasn't sure what to think, but now I'm pretty confident you've never played bad cop in your life."

Conrad shrugged. "I mean, I don't see the point. It doesn't get me to the truth any faster. But I admire what you and your father do. Building green infrastructure for your community is just as important as what I do."

River laughed. "Please, don't flatter me. You deal with hardened criminals like my sister."

Daisy turned to Heather as they watched River bond with Conrad. "Riv grew up with a house full of sisters, but I think he always secretly wanted a brother."

When Conrad left to get the car, River turned to Heather. "I recognize the way he looks at you, and he's not going anywhere unless you tell him to. I know you like to think you're better off single, protecting your independence, but he's the guy who's perfect for you. You and Conrad finding each other is one in a million, like the day I met Cassandra. He's your Cassandra."

(Can confirm, Jane Simsten's Soulmates mod kicked in for these two way back on the night they ran into each other with Holly and Kris in San Myshuno, but Heather's unflirty and she's been burned in the past, so it's had to be this way. I'm sorry!)

River's beautiful wife gazed at him with love while he spoke. They were so sweet together, and their love used to make Heather feel like she was missing out. Now she had Conrad, who was as close to perfect as anyone she'd ever met, and she couldn't shake her insecurities.

"I know raising Ash with his father isn't easy and you're afraid to get hurt again," River said. "But that is a guy who's waiting for you to say 'I love you' so he can say it, too."

Neal frowned. "Huck, you don't know that. Don't test your sister's emotions-"

"I do know that, and I'd die on Old Mill Hill defending that take!"

"He makes me so happy," Heather admitted. "But what if he moves in and I find out he's a criminal mastermind masquerading as a detective?"

"Then you're even more perfect for each other than I thought."

Heather couldn’t deny her feelings for Conrad, as afraid as she was to put them into words and make them real.

Despite her fears, she was grateful for her family's approval, and she embraced her brother warmly when Conrad brought his car around. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: This got it's own post because Conrad and River literally said hello to each other and were basically best friends (they became official best friends later, when it mattered for Conrad's Friend of the World aspiration. tbh by then I thought they already were but either something glitched or broke with the Lovestruck patches or I never bothered and forgot). Their instant bromance felt so right - River looks up to his older sister and wants the best for her even though he can't help but tease her, and he and Conrad are both responsible guys focused on bettering their communities. It's a perfect match and I loved this development.

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (IV): Say Don’t Go.

Imagine you are a peasant who rescues Aemond after he fought his uncle Daemon Targaryen—but in this universe he didn’t die drowned, but suffered a wound that you, with your simple knowledge of medicine, actually manage to heal you. What shall happen then?

Warnings: fluff, violence, drama, angst.

***

• A Dance With Dragons

In between fire and ashes, blood has never been thicker. The one-eyed prince, on behalf of his infamous brother, is ready to take leave. Unbeknownst to him, as he mounts Vhagar, destiny sets a worse fate than the assumption of victory for all parties.

Here he goes, a path of blood behind this man—who tasted frustration and rejection all his life, lusting for what was never his by any right, tied in a very suffocating loyalty to his family.

Here he goes, moved by agony and pain, he who is hated by his enemies and despised by those who support the charismatic Aegon.

Here he goes… mounted in an ancient beast, prompted to finally write his name in the pages of history. Aemond, the kinslayer, the embodiment of fire and blood, flies in roaring skies.

And not too long after he meets his mirror, the one he wanted to be in life—a better version, certainly—, the kin who inspired him despicable sentiments—if perhaps in another occasion he would be this man’s favourite nephew.

This is not the moment for words to be spoken out. Warriors like them feel no need to exchange offenses. War is coming in thunderous storms. Higher than men, above divine heavens, uncommon relatives fight one another.

“DRACARYS, VHAGAR!”

His scream dies unheard, as the wind blows away the anger in his throat. Believing to possess such an ancient dragon, warlord like him, he doesn’t foresee that years and size are not by his side.

Daemon Targaryen and his Caraxes are faster and better equipped for this battle. Experience is also an advantaged tool played by the aforementioned prince towards his rascal nephew.

The skies shake and many are misled to think this is a thunder. But this is hardly a thunderstorm. Later the chroniclers would report it as a dance of the dragons, where this deadly combat between two great warlords and their gigantic beasts collided in such a way that as frightening as it was to watch, it seemed so as the involved were…dancing.

But Vhagar’s flesh and blood provide difficulty to Caraxes. Bites here and there, sounds that roared through the air, producing sparks of electrons and fire all the whilst their riders try to dismount the other.

The heights pose an inevitably invitation for prompt death. It’s only a matter of time until one of them falls, if not both of them do.

Skies grow darker and rain eventually drops. Caraxes, fighting better under this environment, twists the scene to his favor, surprising Vhagar. What happpens next is too fast to describe. Later, peasants would recall how a great beast like Vhagar fell upon the sea… without Lord Aemond on her back.

A question would haunt Aegon’s twilight reign: where has Lord Aemond Targaryen gone to?

To worse Aegon III’s rise to the throne, a shadow is casted. No body was found. Therefore… should it be presumed the rogue prince died? If so, not in his former mistress’s arms.

Where is Aemond Targaryen? What happened to the one-eyed lord, famed for his kinslayer epithet?

• Blue skies, fields painted green•

I’ve known it from the very start. We’re a shot in the darkest dark. Oh, no. I’m unarmed…

By the time you rescue him, you think he’s been dead and gone. But for a long while you, a simple curious being who, however, learned to study thanks to your older brother’s connection with literate beings, suspected not all was like appearances led to.

You managed to carry this strange man, aware he was in his worst conditions, to your household. It’s a very simple, typical peasant house. And this was a man you’ve never seen in these surroundings… especially because of his fancy robes, a positive indicator of his nobility.

Unaware of the details of this civil war, you took care of him. Ignoring his handsomeness, you dedicated day and night until he eventually opens his eyes.

And when he does… it’s a scandal. Most of all because he is still hurting in his chest and to breathe requires some energy. Then comes the revolt upon seeing he’s nowhere he’s familiar with.

Before he starts to rage out his frustration, the prince is prevented from doing so at the sight of you. A peasant, certainly a damsel despite being closer to him in age, shows up.

“L-L-Lord, please”, you know you’ve been bold in keeping him with you, in weaving illusions to escape your life, all of which makes you blush and sink into his feet. “I only tried to help you.”

Something about your smooth voice eases him. When looking better at you, Aemond’s chest hurts for being reminded of his sweet sister Helaena. He knows he could never do any harm to you.

“Rise, creature who saved my life”, and when you do, the silver haired man looks enchanted at your y/c soft skin, the mystery behind your y/c eyes… “I demand to know your name.”

“Y/N Y/LN, lord”, you whisper, still avoiding his gaze.

But it’s for no effort you do so as he looks for yours, holding your chin as he lifts it up. You see danger right before you, posing threat as he stands in front of you. Nevertheless, he is so alluring that to resist is just… pointless.

“Don’t call me lord. I’m Aemond”, he softens to you, his hand slipping to your throat gently before letting go of you, leaving behind a sensation of void and cold where there had been warmth. “It appears that if I fell here, my uncle took the best of me.”

You nod your head partly.

“You need to be careful, lo… Aemond. Your wounds are still fresh”, you bring him to outside for the very first time since you rescued him.

The prince, shirtless and dressing an old pair of pants, follows you, reluctant somewhat as what to find. He is, however, surprised when seeing there is nothing but a careful mix of colors. Deep blue that paints these cloudless skies and a shade of green that colors the hills and the grasses nearby.

The air is clean and the prince finds peace. However, when spotting, from that distance, the sea, this peace is replaced by angst.

“Vhagar”, he remembers painfully. “Where is she?”

When seeing a puzzled look on your face, Aemond has to remember himself you are a peasant, who probably judged dragons as mythical creatures. But he underestimates you.

“Ser, I may be poor and obscure, but I am not illiterate”, you speak impatiently. “I know who Vhagar is. I must say, though, that you were already dismounted by the time I found you. If you fell from such a height, this only means you are lucky that you are still alive.”

Aemond’s good eye transmits such a depth of sadness that you feel remorse for speaking like that to him. The prince doesn’t notice it, though, so he decides to walk outdoors and there sit amidst the high grass as a way to cope with his loss.

At first, all you do is watch him. This tall, paled prince with long silver hair, involved in a bandage around his waist with a skin painted in deep scars, is now the embodiment of melancholy.

Your reason tells you to leave him there, the moon is too high to grasp it, but your feet don’t obey your sense. It doesn’t take too long before you sit next to him.

“I’m sorry for your loss”, you break the silence hesitantly. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He doesn’t respond you ar first, and you wonder whether he heard you or are ignoring you. But he turns his face at you eventually, still plagued by that shade of sadness few can be gladly dissociated from.

“You’ve done all you could, mistress Y/N. Thank you. You shall be rewarded.”

“My reward is your well being, lor… Aemond”, you offer him an understanding small smile.

These words prove to be the balsam he needs.

“I appreciate it, truly. In due time…” Aemond sighs, not willing to admit how lost he feels. “Do you have any news of what’s going on?”

By the looks of your face, the prince understands that what might come from you are not what he wants to hear. Even so, he must hear it. In this silent communication, though, there is little need to further comprehension.

Therefore you tell him about Lord Daemon’s victory. A short victory, however, as the common folk said that due to the gravity of his wounds eventually culminated in the said prince’s death.

What happened next was confused. You didn’t understand politics very well and you were too busy minding your own business to do so. Nevertheless, it’s common knowledge that the Seven Kingdoms have a new king.

“A new king?”, Aemond exclaims frustrated. “But Jaehaerys is just a boy!”

The embarrassment in your face only worsens his disappointment.

What, in seven hells, has happened in this short time I was unconscious?

“This is not his name, Ser. Our king is Aegon, Third of His Name.”

Aemond pales and for a moment you step back, fearful of his fury. But all the silver prince does is clench his jaw and turn his back on you for a moment. And you let him be all the time he needs.

***

• Healing…

I'm standin' on a tightrope alone. I hold my breath a little bit longer. Halfway out the door, but it won't close. I'm holdin' out hope for you…

A strange process it is to watch events unfold from the support ground. Witnessing from darkness the arrival of the Starks and then all the gathering leading to Aegon III’s ascension next to Rhaenyra, who, apparently, had transmitted her claim to the Iron Throne to her eldest son and heir, was too much for him to bear… especially now aware of the passing of every one he’d known and fought for.

But in due time, his silence and mourning become too much a burden for him to carry alone.

“I’m surprised you are still out here”, you tell him in one of these evenings you come home and find the prince there.

“Where else I’d go?”, Aemond shrugs his shoulders.

His eyes are glued in you, finding new expressions in your introspective features. You are different, a thought occurs him. What had happened outside to bring you more serious today? A question he does not dare to pose.

“To your mistress, perhaps”, a response that, albeit reluctant, transmits some grumpiness on your part.

For the first time in many moons, Aemond Targaryen smiles.

“Mistress?”, he repeats and you miss the amusement out of his voice.

“Mistress Rivers. Perhaps this is a name very familiar to you”, you don’t know why rolling the name of his former paramour sounds poisonous to your ears, inspiring a hearty agony and an inner despair.

As Aemond studies you, every piece comes to make sense when glued together. At first he says nothing, finding adorable how a creature so introspective like you, kept innocent and wild at the same time from mundane’s ill intentions, discovers new sentiments, obscured as jealousy and attachment might sound.

He could take the opportunity to write a new story, but even now… Aemond struggles to disassociate from the past.

“She was once attributed to many meanings, some of which had linkings to my personal affections”, Aemond admits, taking the opportunity to sip his ale. “But once we parted ways, I do not believe we are meant to mend it back.”

You cast him a long distrustful look, opting for the silence, even though there is so much being said in your body language. Aemond rises up and moves to where you stand, gently but firmly taking grip of your arm.

“Y/N, look at me”, he demands you gently. “Why have you brought her name out of the blue?”

You hesitate and Aemond can only be led to think there’s some bad news ahead. You take some breath and then look at him, as if struggling for courage.

“I cannot keep you here any longer, lord. I’ve been selfish, I see that now. But looking after my lord has given me purpose. All of this to say that people have been looking for you.”

“Looking for me”, he repeats. “Do not believe in what people say, my darling. My enemies are in power, the best we can do is hide for the moment. This means I must shave my head to keep the identity in secrecy.”

He surprises you, and even himself, with this new sense of resignation. But this is a wise move, considering no one had found his body, therefore the mystery must remain for his sake.

Nonetheless, he likes this life with you. Aemond smiles before holding you against him.

“I got used to you, dear one. Looks like I’m staying longer this time.”

That being said, he admires how wide you smile. No one had ever made him feel this sentiment before. He realizes now that what you two have is too sacred to let it be profaned.

• Pain & Blood

Why'd you have to lead me on? Why'd you have to twist the knife? Walk away and leave me bleedin', bleedin'? Why'd you whisper in the dark? Just to leave me in the night? Now your silence has me screamin', screamin'…

When he kisses you under moonlight in between the shadowy green fields, your mind goes blank and your heart races loud. When his tongue moves the way to your neck, your legs automatically spread to welcome his strong body; his arms now moving upper your back, caressing you slowly, aching in slow burn as you call out his name in sweet whispers.

“Mine lady”, his lips pursuit yours once more.

It’s past twilight. Silenced by the night, nature welcomes you in this wilderness out of the fancy troubles and the troublesome webs woven by the Black party.

You provide him home and security, the sweet taste of genuine love he’s been looking for. With him, likewise.

It’s free, intense and healing.

“We should better head inside”, he grumbles under his breath, struggling not to give free path for his desires.

You giggle softly, giving him a long look. As you straighten yourself, you hear him say:

“My lady, you bring the best of a beast like me.”

You spin around him, looking like a fairy with your simple white gown and y/c hair loose in your back.

“Is this you accusing me of witchcraft, lord? For I shall not tolerate such an accusation”, you put your hands around his neck.

“Nay. You are too pure for it”, and Aemond knows this must not be the result of bewitching, since the purity of your care and love inspires the same of a man like him.

Beneath the mask of a bad prince, there lies a wounded man who’s known neglect all his life. The concept of love Alys brought to him was more lustful, fleshy attachment than sentimental one.

But when the shadow of those three words comes behind your eyes, mirroring his own, Aemond fears to hear them. Kissing your lips once more, he prays to forget what he saw… for a recent, deep wound has come to open in surface.

As you lead him into your household again, precisely to what you call being your quarters—the result of the inheritance of your father—you give in your heart at every touch, every embrace this man provides you.

When you begin to picture the two of you actually living this life together, when you start to think possible that you could marry and be content in being a simple peasant… every dream dies when a knock on the door is heard urgently.

“Who on earth…”, you sigh impatiently, making him chuckle.

Aemond snakes his arms behind your waist, resting his chin over your shoulder.

“We should better see who’d be this unwanted visitor”, he laughs quietly, admiring the blush painting your cheeks.

As you reluctantly part of his arms, you move to open the door. Aemond leans against the wall, partly hidden under the shadows, waiting to see who’s the one behind the bloody door.

But when you open and see a dark-haired lady with a skin smooth as milk, your heart stops.

“Oh. So here’s the witch who captured my Aemond”, she speaks in a soft accusing voice, though in the lady’s eyes there is nothing but arrogance.

Aemond reluctantly comes to the scene.

“Alys?”

“My prince”, her voice and smile are as sweet as poison, inspiring in you nothing but disgust. “Your son and I have been waiting for you, believing to be dead and gone. But you have been kept a prisoner by this…”, and here comes the despise poorly masked.”…woman.”

You turn your head quickly to stare at Aemond. He sees pain in your y/c eyes, and the sound of heartbreaking reaches his ears when you say:

“You have a child with her, Aemond?”

“It’s Lord Aemond to you”, she corrects you, but is promptly ignored by all parts.

“She was… pregnant when I went to war”, Aemond admits, embarrassed. “I… Considering the recent events, I thought them to be gone like the rest of my family.”

“No. Your son waits for you. I’ve been looking for you”, insists Alys, much to your consternation. “Let me break this spell she’s casted on you, my prince. You shall be free and live with us as it’s your right.”

Part of you waits for his denial, hopes for it even. Despite the evident struggle in having yourself composed before such accusations, you expect he’d take your side.

You hope…

And I'm yours, but you're not mine. Oh no, oh no, you're not there. I'm standin' on the sidewalk alone. I wait for you to drive by. I'm tryna see the cards that you won't show. I'm about to fold unless you…

But Aemond knows not where his strength lies. This cannot be judged simply following his heart desires. When remembering everything his mother sacrificed for… and then he has a child.

A child of his own that should be on the throne. The mere idea awakes the flames of old vengeance.

Much to her annoyance, on the other hand, Alys watches as the events unfold in an impasse. She presses again the matter of their child, aware this is how she’ll take him away from your claws—or so she judges.

“Aemond?”, your voice comes out suffocated.

He sees those words in your eyes, but they fade out of his grasp like a star losing the shine, swallowed in a black hole.

Night comes and steals your bright, much to his atonement. Aemond wishes he could say something more, but no speech is enough to bring you back to life.

Your innocence is now agony and all he can say is:

“I must go. For my child.”

“I understand”, you speak cooly, surprising him for your reasonable behavior. “I pray you forgive me for any mistakes. I am but a peasant who knows nothing of life.”

That being said you curtsy and leave the way open. You watch as Alys smirks deviously at you, like a winner who takes it all. Aemond hesitates, but you don’t look at him.

Why'd you have to (why'd you have to) make me want you (make me want you)? Why'd you have to (why'd you have to) give me nothin' back? Why'd you have to (why'd you have to) make me love you (make me love you)? I said, "I love you" (I said, "I love you"). You say nothin' back.

And there your heart lies in open bleeding…

***

You occupy yourself delivering the rest of planting to the lord you owe fealty after spending months in working with the land. It’s easier to forget about the past when one occupies one’s mind with daily tasks.

This doesn’t mean the nights are easier, though. You are haunted by his face, by scenes where he laughs joyfully with Lady Rivers. She tells you that, as a lowborn woman, you could never be with a highborn man as Lord Aemond.

A truth sharp as knife that wakes you up in the breaking dawn, bleeding you again and again… It hurts and though you swallow salt in your mouth, no other sign is there that you have been in suffering.

In the meantime you carry on with your life, or try to, Aemond is rediscovering his life amongst nobility. The boy his former mistress claimed to be his son is not, by all means, a Targaryen. He could tell she painted his hair and by calculating his age, he was far more likely being a Strong boy than else his. Specially because by the time he took Alys Rivers as his mistress, she was already a Strong’s concubine.

With this disappointment ahead and collecting the testimonies of her witchcraft, Aemond is no fool to realize he’s been stuck in a trap and that he could be sent to the new government’s hand anytime.

I shall not have a death by treason.

The only reasonable solution is escaping. He is no coward, in fact the prince was once too prideful to embrace defeat. However, Aemond’s mind recollects your innocence, your simple ways of living and how you taught him so many good things.

The teachings that promised to make him a rightful man despite his wrongs. Is he too late to be redeemed, though?

Why'd you whisper in the dark just to leave me in the night? Now your silence has me screamin', screamin'…

I should have not let you go, Y/N.

In silence, like always, the prince leaves all that has profaned his soul to search after the only sacred path someone put him in.

And this someone is you.

• ‘I would stay forever if you say don’t go…’

You have cleaned your body in the river and now choose to sit right there over a towel, partly fearful of being seen in your nude state, partly pleased to be able to feel some degree of liberty.

Sun is ready to set and it’s last rays are set on your y/c skin, drying the last drops of the cold water you dived in. As you stand, you are ready to dress yourself when a noise scares you.

Quickly you put your white gown with black strips, unable to tie your long y/c hair when you spot him.

Head shaved still, pained eyes, dressed not like a nobleman but like a random, common peasant lad. So would he look like had he not been blessed with such deep purple eyes that are staring into your y/c ones.

“A-Aemond”, you gasp. Your body begins to tremble and you wish you could run away, but you are frozen.

“Y/Nickname”, he comes after you, hesitantly at first, confidently then. “Apologies are not enough for what I did to you, to us. I humble before my lady and come to ask you not to go.”

He is on his knees before you. He, the prideful prince.

“You are the one who left”, your voice betrays you.

“I had to”, Aemond dares to raise his chin as his hands grip tight your thighs. “I had to. I was misled to think the boy she had was my child.”

“And if he was”, you mutter, the echo of pain rolling out through your words, much like a sharpened blade. “Would you be embarrassed of my station to keep me in ignorance?”

“Fuck, Y/N, no!” He realizes no words are enough to make up for his poor doings. Nevertheless, he tries. Aemond is no quitter. “I am not embarrassed of my lady. I learned to love you out of my heart and soul, despising mundane affairs in order to pursuit the divine one. I was raised from the seven hells to taste the sweet flavor of your divine lips. I want you. Only you can redeem me.”

It’s the way his fingers dig into the cloth of the skirt of your gown that makes you feel fragile. The way he breaks before you, how his words are whispered in despair. Remorse is sincere, pain is evident in the two of you.

Why delaying it?

But then you hear a sound so strange to you. To both of you. When your hearts cry out, you slip, losing your strength.

“You are my weakness”, he says, exposing himself to you.

No sapphire. No embellishment. No pride. The prince the way he is, with his scars. And you expose yours.

Darkness rises by the time you are engulfed in his embrace.

“I’m sorry”, Aemond whispers, fearful of losing you. “I won’t leave you ever again. This I vow over my dead family.”

You are still sobbing when he vows this to you. And when his lips are colliding against yours, every angst dies at long last. And what is cold now is warm, and suddenly the weight of the clothes begins to be unbearable.

With only the moon as witness, vows are exchanged, consumed in one kind of fire that burns each part, prompted to spread in a strange kind of fever so unknown to you.

As tongue dances, bodies intertwine and pain is at long last overcome. The consequence of this redemption is to fruit nine moons later.

In the end, in between wars and peacemakings, two different lives found in each other what they needed. The destiny of Aemond Targaryen became a great “what if” in the history, a name so powerful to haunt crowned men but humbled before the kindest lady of the Seven Kingdoms.

Turned into a love song many years later, bards would give Aemond another name, calling you Jenny of the Oldstones.

Perhaps a truth hints behind it, is it not? But only your descendants would know it and smile often at such beautiful song.

[alohajun]

♡ BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND — KIM MINGYU

brother's best friend!mingyu x fem!reader (ft. brother!wonwoo) | wc : 0.5k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, fluff, angst if you squint, gyu being a flirt and it backfiring on him lmao | loki's lines : it's 1am who cares but ayo @ethereal-engene ash here's 1 outta the 2738924 ideas i suddenly have for this man 😭 he's not even my bias (and i don't even write for svt) but ykw dk doesn't have to know

“hey, hey, hey! look, it’s my favorite best friend’s sister!”

it was almost two weeks of kim mingyu visiting you whenever he could to brighten up your day and fill in for your brother.

ever since wonwoo left abroad to study, you were a mess. and mingyu knew that — which was why he volunteered to check on you every so often before his best friend could even ask the favour.

mingyu could never admit it to wonwoo, but the truth was he had a crush on you — and just couldn’t bear to see you so sad. but little by little with his visits, he brought a smile on your face.

and little by little, you started falling for your brother’s best friend.

you never really meant to, but with mingyu being so caring, there was no way you could stop yourself from liking him. sure, he was your brother’s best friend, and if your brother found out, he’d probably end you both, but that problem would never arise.

because you were so damn sure nothing would ever happen between you two.

“your brother said you cried during your video-call with him earlier.” mingyu sat next to you, his voice soft. “you know, we can talk about it. it’ll just be between us, i promise.”

this was exactly why you kept falling for your brother’s best friend; he was an absolute gem.

“when we were together, wonwoo would nag me every day, but now it’s not as often,” you muttered. “weirdly enough, i miss it.”

“well, i mean, i can always nag you. you know, just consider me your big brother. i’m your brother’s best friend, anyway, right?” mingyu bit his lip, regretting his choice of words as soon as they left his lips.

“there’s no need for that.” you scoffed, shaking your head. “i have no intention of considering you as my brother.”

the male raised his brows, surprised by your response. “oh? then what do you want to consider me as? your boyfriend?” he playfully responded, leaning closer to your face as he grinned.

“w-what? no, i–”

“your husband?!” mingyu enjoyed the way the heat rushed to your cheeks, feeling his heart flutter when you pouted at him. “wah, i didn’t think you’d have such long-term plans with me.”

you chuckled, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine. “of course, i planned for the long-term, gyu.” you leant closer, smile never fading. “i also came up with baby names. wanna hear?” you quipped.

the seriousness in your voice paired with the proximity of your faces was too much for mingyu, causing him to choke on air as you laughed, satisfied with the outcome. you had played an uno reverse on your brother’s best friend, and he seemed to believe every word.

“w-wait, are you for real?” he couldn’t help but ask, not having noted the sarcasm behind your voice. “like, baby names and all?”

you stood from your place, walking towards the door before looking back. mingyu followed your steps, the clueless look on his face giving you butterflies with how adorable he looked.

“take me out on a date first and we can find out if the baby names are real.”

[randomblogofabard]

The Indulgence of Grief

Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of life. ~ Benjamin Disrali

Rolan x Tav ; former Gale x Tav ; slow burn ; eventual smut ; trying something here ; Astarion x Tav teasing

Prologue

The sky churned, a swirl of smoke and gray-blue. Hurricane skies, their origin nowhere near as natural. Screams of terror and grief rose up from every corner of the city - a morbid accompaniment to the horrorscape above them. The people of Baldur’s Gate, or, at least, those who weren’t currently bleeding out into the street or fighting tentacled monsters to stay alive, watched on in horrified fascination as the giant brain pulsated from its fixed position in the sky, it’s brainstem undulating like a tail hanging hundreds of feet below. Red dragons and dread astral ships streaked across the sky spouting flame. 

Rolan had to keep reminding himself to take ragged, rancid breaths in. The air tasted like ash and blood. 

Cal paced at his side, face smeared with blood. He kept darting quick glances to and away from the Elder Brain, as if he was afraid to allow himself to stare at it too long. 

“Did it work? Did we help?” Cal asked, his glowing eyes boring into the side of Rolan’s skull.

Rolan clenched his hands, his sharp nails digging into his palms. “Of course it worked. We all saw my Firestorm hit the damned thing.”

“Then why isn’t it going down?” Lia asked, although from her tone Rolan knew she didn’t expect an answer. It was just as well. He didn’t know why the Elder Brain still floated above the city any more than she did. 

Surely they must be close to destroying it? 

Seconds passed like hours as they watched on. Rolan knew Lia was itching to go back outside - back into the fray. But they’d done their part. Once the fighting had broken out, friends and lovers bursting into Illithid monsters in the street, Rolan had sent sendings to every tiefling he had met when fleeing Elturel. Cal and Lia had worked tirelessly to shepherd as many of them as they could, along with any non-transformed passerby, into the tower’s lowest floor before barricading them inside. Rolan then activated the turrets and continued, desperately, trying to get the firestorm cannon functional. He’d just barely finished deciphering the last of the runes needed to activate the damned thing when Tavra’s call for aid arrived. He’d fired, a ball of heat and death blasting into the surface of the Elder Brain.

What else could they do?

Rolan didn’t believe in miracles. Life only gave what you were able to rip out of it through hard work, sweat, and blood. Rolan had a family because Lia and Cal willed it so. He earned the mysteries of magic and the Weave through ceaseless self-discipline and study, in spite of no master wizard touching him due to his infernal heritage. They escaped Elturel with nothing but the packs on their backs and the fire in their souls. He had earned an apprenticeship with that damned monster Lorraikan by demonstrating a talent for magic he had cultivated and nurtured all on his own. But once they reached the Shadowlands the universe began taking back. First Cal and Lia, and then nearly himself. 

That’s when they had shown up, led by that obnoxiously competent and compassionate bard. She had saved his life. She had brought Cal and Lia back to him. She then went and saved his life again by freeing him from Lorroakans cruelty and torture. Tavra and her crew laughed at fate. They were miracles. They could do the impossible.

They had to.

“Something’s happening!” Cal shouted. He lifted his hand, pointing towards the sky just as a bright flash of purple light shot upwards from the brain’s surface. A moment later there was a thunderous boom from the room behind them, rocking Rolan forward. He and Lia caught their balance on the railing while Cal was tossed flat on his back.

Whirling to face the room, hands already lifting to formulate the precise gestures required for a thunderwave of his own, Rolan faltered at the scene before him. It was…them?

The white haired vampire had landed on his feet, eyes screwed up in a scowl, his pale face ashen with dread.

The bloodied gith was slowly coming to stand from where she’d fallen on one knee, face enraged, a large silver sword gripped tightly in her hands. 

The duke’s devil-cursed son was on his knees next to the large tiefling female, shaking her by the shoulders trying to wake her up where she lay unconscious on the floor.

The half-elf cleric fell back heavily against one of the columns encircling the room, a healing spell falling from her lips as she staunched a bleeding wound in her side. 

Tavra…Tavra had also landed on her feet, but the look on her face made Rolan’s hot blood turn to ice. Written across her features, so plain and vibrant that he heard Lia take a sharp inhale from his side, was a dread so haunting that he felt acid pool in his stomach. 

Why did she look like that? Had they lost? Was the world around him, the world he had fought and scratched and nearly died for, about to end? She lurched forward, running right towards him, as another thunderous boom rocked the tower, knocking him off of his feet. 

He watched dazedly as Tav leapt over him. She landed hard on the balcony, her forward momentum only stopping when she slammed into the railing. Her hands shot out, finger’s contorting as she reached out towards the empty sky.

Empty sky? 

No, that couldn’t be right. 

Rolan pushed himself up onto his forearm, eyes scanning the vista before him. The blue-gray skies were filled with red mist, unspeakable viscera raining down, red dragons and…nothing else. The Elder Brain was gone.

A wrenching, piercing sound filled the air. Rolan slapped his hands over his ears. He looked around, panicked at whatever fresh new hell was creating that noise. His gaze stopped again on the people now occupying his tower. The heroes that had kept showing up again and again and again. He studied them, trying to see if they knew where that horrific noise was emanating from. His eyes moving from face to face, and after a moment he realized one of their number was missing. 

The wizard, the one who had warned him about Lorroakan all those weeks ago, was nowhere to be seen. 

The white-haired cleric was mouthing something. Rolan, still trying to blot out the screeching sound with his palms pressed tightly over his ears, attempted to read her lips. She was saying Tavra’s name, over and over and over again.

A shiver rolled across his body as realization dawned on him. He slowly turned back towards the balcony, back towards Tavra still reaching desperately towards an empty sky.

She was screaming.

[markedmage]

i'll fly when the wind is right

Rating: T

Pairing: Katara/Zuko

Summary: (There are ties that bind the waterbender of the South Pole and the prince of the Fire Nation. Ties built on a foundation of shattered trust and hope, weaved together by threads of anger and pain and sorrow, glimmering with a new sheen of tentative acceptance. Perhaps a fresh start built on the bones of broken dreams and shattered promises. Perhaps stronger than the remains.)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55671190

Notes: Written for @zutaramonth 2024, Day 4: Ash. Excerpt below the cut.

They're about an hour into the flight when Zuko dares to ask, “Will you tell me about it?" 

He doesn't want her to relive those memories, but he can tell she is already - he sent her down this rabbit hole of pain and broken dreams, it's only fair he hears the terror that's been dragged back to the surface.

She sighs, keeping her gaze fixed on the horizon. The air tastes fresh on his tongue, bringing with it the smell of rain and perhaps a little taste of something new.  "They came looking for waterbenders,” she tells him. "My mother hid me in our hut, but the commander caught her before she could leave. To protect me, she sacrificed herself.” Her voice shakes with the effort, and he can feel the tears pooling under the surface like a tidal wave pounding at the shores. "To protect the last waterbender, she gave her life. And he took it.”

She touches the pendant at her throat, and the tears fall, running down her cheeks like sparkling drops of moonlight. 

"Your mother was a brave woman," Zuko says. “I can see that in you."

She glances at him, confusion and a strange light glinting in her eyes. “Why did you offer to do this, Zuko?" She asks, voice dark and heavy with a determination, a desperation that reminds him of the catacombs.

“All my life," he tells her, “I've been trying to do the right thing by convincing myself with the wrongs. Everything I was taught, everything I became, was the exact opposite of what I wanted. Being with you was the first time I felt right, when I felt like myself." 

“So why did you betray me?”

He sighs. "Imagine you spend your entire life just trying to please the people who are supposed to love you. Imagine everyday living in the shadows of their disappointment. That's what life was for me. And then Azula welcoming me back home? Offering my father's pride up on a silver platter? Even going against everything I was standing for, I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't stop the hope that my family would love me.”

She's quiet, and he continues. "I know it was the wrong choice,” he says. "But it's the choice I made, and I've spent every waking day trying to fix every mistake I've made. I'll spend the rest of my life trying to fix the wrongs I did. To the world, to you, if I must. Because I finally feel like me. I'm sorry it took breaking your trust to find myself, but I promise, Katara, I've changed. I'm trying.”

She looks at him, studies him with those critical eyes of hers. It's quiet for a long time, nothing but the wind in their hair and the sky above. Then, before she can speak, he spies the communication tower in the distance. 

And then, once again, there's the war cry in their blood, the taste of blood and ash sitting heavily on Zuko's tongue.

And perhaps a little bit of hope too.

[oftenwantedafton]

Moody and Gray - William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Rating - Explicit

No warnings for this chapter

Also available on AO3

You’ve kissed a few guys in your lifetime. Some were certainly better at it than others. You still cringe to think about the awkward first one you’d shared under the bleachers at school during a pep rally. An awkward clash of lips that weren’t parted enough, teeth knocking together, tongue too intrusive and sloppy. Just a total embarrassing disaster.

This first kiss with Afton, though. This is the polar opposite.

He leans into the gesture not just with his mouth, but with his entire body. As if he’s trying to press himself into you, melting and merging. The weight against your lips is just right. His mouth opens and his tongue strokes yours and fuck if that doesn’t have your body aching and throbbing instantly. The muscle moves deftly, just like those elegant fingers of his. Curling, caressing, laving, gifting you the ash taste of his recent cigarette.

You’re actually honest to God lightheaded when he finally draws back to study your features. The amused smirk has returned, but it’s not mocking. He looks like the fucking cat that got the cream. Oh, that bastard. He knows exactly how good he is.

“What if someone walks out here and sees us?” You hate how breathless you are.

William shrugs. “That’s part of the fun. The thrill of being caught. Or would you rather we stop?”

“No,” you reply, a bit hastily. Eager. God you hate being needy.

“So you want me to harass you some more?”

You nod and his mouth covers yours again.

You forget all about being cold. It’s impossible to notice the winter air when you have this furnace shoving against you, when he stokes the fire deep inside of you. You rest your hand along his jaw, let your fingers slide back to thread through the dark hair at the nape of his neck. His mouth wanders to your throat, teeth scraping over the arch and the vampire image flashes in your mind again. You wouldn’t even protest if he bit you right now.

Your employer sighs and takes a step back, releasing his hold on the brick wall behind you. “I think break time is over.”

“Are you joking?” You were just about to let your hands wander over him. I mean, it was only fair, considering he’d gotten to cop a feel already.

“No. I need to get back to work. So do you.”

“You run this place. You can do whatever you want,” you mutter.

“I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again, sooner or later.” He reaches for the door handle and holds it open for you. You start to make your way back inside the building when one of his hands grabs yours and you freeze in your tracks, looking at him. “Maybe sooner rather than later, hmmm?”

You reach for the lapel of his dress coat. This was even riskier than what you’d just done outside. You can hear the muffled sounds of the dining room and the arcade. You lift yourself up on your toes and stretch to kiss him again.

This is bad. You’re already addicted.

***

The rest of your shift passes without incident. You watch your boss ascend the steel staircase leading back to his office and then you find yourself guiding a large group of teenagers to one of the larger table setups. High school kids celebrating after a win for their football team. Great, you definitely won’t be getting any tips. These kids are as broke as your own sorry ass.

Not only that; they stay until close and leave behind a tremendous mess. It’s a good thing the carpet is patterned so wildly because you’re fairly certain there are a large number of dinner remnants now spilled and ground into the fibers. The table is littered with soiled napkins and discarded prize tickets. Someone had stolen a banner with the high school’s team mascot on it and it now sat in a pool of sticky soda. Great.

The lights dim. The stage curtains are closed once again. You bring your sixth stack of dishes to the kitchen. The staff there have already left for the evening. The company frowns upon overtime. The expense and all that. Both dishwashers already full and running, so the plates and cups are going to have to wait until tomorrow. Good luck to the poor bastard scrubbing dried tomato sauce off of those.

You push open the kitchen door and run straight into Mr. Afton.

“Sorry,” you mumble hurriedly. “I’m almost finished. I’m sure you want to go home.” You almost add “to your wife and children.” Almost.

“Not really,” he says quietly. “I’ll help you.”

You shrug, leading him back to the dining room table. You each take a position at opposite ends and start spraying the antibacterial chemical cleanser that’s the food service industry standard. He covers far more ground than you do. You tell yourself it’s because his arms are longer, not because you keep pausing to stare at him.

Back in the kitchen, you’re staring again, watching him fold back his shirt cuffs. You wonder if he has an entire closet of nothing but purple vests and black pants and an entire rack of purple ties. If he wears purple on the evenings and weekends when he’s home as well. Purple pajamas. In bed with the wife. Children gathered around his knees when he’s making breakfast.

You submerge your hands in the soapy water and start scrubbing one of the plates. You were just going to leave them. Now he’s making you feel guilty.

For the longest time there’s nothing but the sounds of splashing and the soft chink of ceramic as the plates line the drying rack. Sometimes your hands bump into each other. Accidentally. Intentionally. You’re not certain which it is. Maybe both.

Back outside, William turns the key in the lock and tugs on the doors to make sure they’re secure. Your cars are nowhere near each other. He arrives to work long before anyone else and parks close by. You’re frequently late and are lucky if you can even find a spot in the same lot, sometimes having to opt for a space at the nearby strip mall.

You think about him driving home in that vintage luxury car. Does his wife kiss his cheek when he gets home? Asks him how his day was? Are the children excited to see him? Why the fuck can’t you stop thinking about this all of a sudden? Why do you even care? A couple of stolen kisses and you’re moping around like a lovesick schoolgirl.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say lightly, starting towards your car. You can hear the click of his Oxfords on the pavement behind you. No kiss goodnight then. Well you weren’t going to fucking beg, that’s for damn sure. All that time alone in the restaurant and neither of you had done more than brush hands under the soapy water. You shove your hands into your pockets and walk briskly to your car, a compact that’s more rust than steel at this point.

You turn the key in the ignition. A grinding protest at the cold. You try again. Nothing. A third attempt. No luck.

You see something in your peripheral vision and realize it’s Afton’s car pulling up beside yours.

You tug the keys from the ignition and slam the door as you exit, watching him lean over to unlock the passenger door of his own vehicle.

“My car won’t start,” you say as you pull the door open.

“Get in. I’ll give you a ride.”

***

You live nearby. A fifteen minute drive to the town’s center where your apartment building is.

William makes the trip last longer. Twenty five minutes tonight despite the absence of traffic. As if he really is delaying his return home, prolonging your time together.

“You’re upset.” He shuts the car off after finding a spot in the rear parking lot.

“What?” It’s the first time he’s spoken since he’d offered the ride.

“Something’s bothering you. More than the usual things, Moody.” A gentler smirk this time. Almost affectionate.

“I’m not moody,” you grump. You take a deep breath. “I don’t know anything about you.”

“And yet you’re so certain you have a crush on me. Are willing to stay at a job you despise for my sake.”

“It’s not a crush,” you deny again.

“So what do you call it, then?”

“I don’t like labels. It’s just…it just is.”

He considers that, humming thoughtfully. “What is it you want to know?”

“Why don’t you want to go home?”

He inhales and exhales deeply. “Because there is no one there that cares to see me. The feeling has become mutual over time.”

“Is that why you don’t wear a wedding ring?”

He nods. “It’s evolved into a marriage in name only.”

“So why don’t you get a divorce?”

He shrugs. “Convenience…or…complacency. We’re resigned to it now. It’s become expected. I’m the breadwinner, she raises the children. They are allies. I am someone to be tolerated. Something like that.” He pauses. “Is that what’s bothering you? The idea of being with a married man?”

“Partially.” It had always been a rule of yours not to mess around with married men. Definitely more trouble than it was worth. Yet here you are, considering it.

“What else is bothering you?”

“We were the only ones left at the restaurant. Completely alone. And you didn’t make a move.”

“You want me to chase you? You’re a grown woman. You’re more than capable of asking for what you want.”

“I’m not going to beg.”

“Now see, that’s where you’re wrong.” He leans closer. You can feel his breath warm against your face. The interior of the car has cooled down considerably since he’d switched it off, terminating the warm air draft from the blower. “You want a kiss goodnight, you ask for it.”

You huff in irritation. “Yeah, that’s not how I operate. Two doms don’t make a right.”

“You are insolent, aren’t you?” You thought he’d be pissed at your resistance. Instead he seems almost pleased. He’s enjoying this.

“I prefer the term spicy.”

“You don’t like labels, though.”

“Touché.” Fuck, that little self satisfied smirk was back. “Fine. Kiss me goodnight.”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Asking. Whatever.”

He leans back. “No.”

You blink, mouth gaping. “What?”

“You’re not being sincere. You’re not really asking. So…no.”

You’re beginning to think maybe there are more reasons than the ones he’s just offered for why he and his wife aren’t intimate anymore.

Well, two can play at this game. He wants to be an ass, he’s going to get it served right back to him. “Okay, well, thanks for the ride. I might not be able to make it into work tomorrow depending on how things go with transportation so, fair warning.” You shove the passenger door open with more force than necessary and exit the car, closing it in the same manner. You start walking towards the apartment building, already hating yourself for wishing you hadn’t walked away, that you had just begged like he wanted. You could be warm against him right now with his tongue in your mouth. Damn it. Your pride condemns you every time.

You hear a car door open and close and footsteps behind you, rapid long strides to close the distance. You whirl around and William’s right there, his arms encircling you, tugging you against him, his head bowing to capture your lips.

Fuck.

The taste of smoke and ash is absent this time. He’s a lot rougher, his teeth nipping at your lips. Such a damn vampire.

“Goodnight,” he says by the corner of your mouth. A kiss on your cheek. He’s starting to get some stubble from the lateness of the hour and it scrapes your skin. “Goodnight.” His lips are at your ear. Your fingers clench the ebony woolen fabric he’s draped in. “Goodnight.” His mouth grazes your throat.

He’s the one breathless and panting this time, and you feel a little satisfaction about that.

“I expect you to be at work tomorrow. On time. No excuses.”

The warmth surrounding you vanishes as he releases you, walking back to his car.

[alexanderlightweight]

In honor of my finished uni work (woohoo!), if i have not missed wednesday prompts, can I request Alec studying something for his own interest? Maybe in the deruned verse where he has realised he has choices about his life now?

oh goodness!! congratulations! that is incredible I wish you good luck and fortune for whatever is next! and you were about in the middle of prompts sent in so you were perfectly fine! I hope you enjoy this!

--

Alec tries to rest, like Magnus wants him to. Like Alec wants to want to.

It’s easier now, connected and tied to Magnus and with Magnus’ runes on him, but it’s not enough. Alec has this itch under his skin and while he’s still adjusting, he can’t over exert himself so he wallows and he hates it.

He’s never rested so much in his life and while Magnus offered to take time off, Magnus has taken off enough time for Alec. So he smiles — it’s easier now and mostly real — and assures him he’ll be fine. Magnus can leave while Alec’s awake — Alec knows Magnus has been trying to only leave while Alec’s asleep — and Alec will occupy himself.

It does not go as well as he first hoped.

So he tries things.  Lots of things.

The worst thing he tries is cooking, remembering the stew he and Izzy made for their mother except, it tastes awful. Like ash in his mouth as memories overwhelm him and he dumps the pot and leaves the food to Magnus’ magic.

He tries books and he loves them. Books are something Alec has always treasured and enjoyed and he’s always longed for more time to read them, to explore the world through written pages.

It’s not enough now.

Oh it’s nice enough to read with Magnus, but not when he’s alone. Alec will get lost in the words, forget to turn the pages and get stuck back there, in the haze of pain and the feeling of being adrift.  

Before Magnus bound them together.

He discovers the roof by accident. A magical mishap of a garden and Alec breathes in deeply of the rich, fresh air and the crisp scent of mint in the breeze.

He finds himself still there, hours later with a book from Magnus’ library, identifying the various plants and their different needs and how to care for them.

He slips back downstairs before Magnus is home. Alec knows Magnus has wards on every room of the house, on Alec even. Magnus knows Alec went to the roof and stayed there for hours but his face is soft and he doesn’t ask, waiting for Alec to open up.

Magnus doesn’t push, even when Alec stays silent about his new hobby for days. 

The silence stays until Magnus enters the rooftop one night, when he’s supposed to be gone, arguing in another language on his phone and magic sparking from his skin. He spots Alec immediately and his golden eyes get huge before he says something sharp and upset into the phone.

He’s angry now where he was just in a hurry before, but Alec knows he’s not angry with him.

“Darling,” Magnus says and he lifts his hands a little helplessly, like he thinks Alec won’t always want Magnus’ touch on him.

Like Alec hasn’t craved it since they met, before this whole mess happened and this became the new normal.

“I’m so sorry, Alexander. I forgot to check if you were still here.”

“It’s okay.” Alec says, because it is and he smiles, completely real this time. “Was it important?”

Magnus huffs and rolls his eyes, “important for someone but not an emergency and not important enough to interrupt you here. Not until you’re ready at least.”

“I think I’m ready.” Alec admits and he gets up from where he’s kneeling, just in his boxers and his shirt in the thick moss where he’s gently moving some wintermint into a pot. “I mean, I’d like it if you’re the only one who just comes in when I’m here.” And Alec can’t help his blush or the way he motions to himself.

It’s not the state of undress, though by Magnus’ darkening eyes that is part of it for him, but it’s the vulnerability. Magnus has offered to help him find weapons that aren’t strictly adamas, but Alec isn’t ready for that.

Not yet anyways.

He can’t handle touching a blade and knowing it won’t light up. He’s not unarmed though, not in the rest of the loft. Magnus keeps a series of rattan staffs on hand for Alec and Alec doesn’t bring them to the garden. There’s something sacred and safe about the small place and he’d like to keep it that way.

“Come see?” Alec says, a little shyly because this is new. Helping something grow instead of killing. And Alec doesn’t mind the killing, slaughtering demons is fun in its own way but this is soothing and safe, like how Magnus was hoping Alec would heal. Like Alec has never let himself heal.

“Always, let us look this instance.” Magnus agrees, eyes crinkling with his smile and Alec wants to kiss him, just a press of lips together but he also doesn’t think he’s ready yet for what that would unlock.

“Don’t you need something for your client?” 

“You mean that thoughtless, demanding, inconsiderate imbecile who caused me to break one of my most precious promises to give you space and respect your sanctuary.” 

“You never promised me anything like that, Magnus.” Alec protests, because, “I never asked you to. I would never want you to.”

“I promised myself, darling. That I would let you have time, all the time you need, however much you wanted even if it spanned decades. Your trust has been betrayed enough for a thousand lifetimes, Alexander.”

Alec hides his head in Magnus’ neck, so that the tears will disappear into the fabric and strong arms curl around him. Magnus’ muscles are heavy and strong and promising Alec to hold him together. To keep him standing so he won’t drown and he wraps his own arms around Magnus in return. And then, because he’s still new at this, he turns just a little and presses a kiss to Magnus’ jaw.

Magnus freezes, arms tightening to near pain and Alec sighs in contentment because Magnus is holding him and Magnus is safe and then he forces himself to let go and Magnus, very slowly, lets go of him as well. He looks as upset about it as Alec does so Alec reaches out, his fingers aching for Magnus’ own and Magnus’ is so pleasantly surprised by it. Alec can see it on the face and he can’t wait until the day Magnus is pleased, but not surprised by the intimacy Alec will learn to offer. 

“I really like your garden. The plants here are incredible and they thrive with your magic.” Alec shrugs, “I know they’re fine on their own but it’s nice, sometimes. To help things grow, to see new life and be here, in the light of your magic and the things you create.” 

“Your garden, lovely.” Magnus says and he reaches out to cup Alec’s jaw. “Anything you need Alexander, anything you want.”

“Our garden?” Alec asks, because it doesn’t sound right, the garden belonging just to him when it thrives because of Magnus and was built by him.

“Ours then.” 

Magnus looks pleased, something darker in his eyes and Alec’s heartbeat triples in delight. He loves when Magnus gets like that. Covetous, possessive, demanding of Alec’s attention and time and Alec wishes he always let this side of himself show.

Alec adores every bit of Magnus with everything that he is and it has nothing to do with the tie between them. Alec never once wanted to worship Raziel the way he wants to worship Magnus, but Alec’s been thrown away before and while he knows Magnus won’t do that — that Magnus made it so Magnus couldn’t, just for Alec — it's still a lingering fear.

Soon it will fade, like a shadow into the growing night but Alec finds that he likes this, a slower pace. After all, what else has he to do, but learn to love Magnus and learn to love himself, the way he knows Magnus already does. 

[antitheticallyargumentative]

Jamie character study snippets- con’t

(set around/slightly before 3x11 “Mom City”)

(if anyone wants to give me an ao3 invite link so I can make an account… I’m considering starting posting there)

TW- referenced/implied depression

Jamie isn’t stupid. Contrary to popular belief. He knows it's a pattern. He’s good, and then he’s bad, and then he’s good again, and then he’s really bad, and he knows that’s probably the type ‘a shit he was supposed to talk about with somebody like Dr. Sharon, but he was so busy then trying to figure out how to not be a prick that he didn’t really tell her things like how sometimes he doesn’t really wanna get out of bed in the mornings, or that sometimes he’s so tired he doesn’t condition his hair, or only does three steps of his ten step skincare routine, or that even though he’s so tired he can never fall asleep properly like that, and even when he does it doesn’t really help and food, which he usually fucking loves, all tastes like ash in his mouth. Jamie isn’t stupid. He knows that when he stops loving football it's a bad sign. Because he knows, rationally, that he does love football. If he woke up one day and someone told him you can never play football again, he’d be fucking devastated. He needs football. Needs it like water, like air, like a heartbeat. Most of the time, it’s the only thing keeping him going. But when his alarm goes off at 4am and all he wants to do is tell Roy to fuck right off and curl up in bed for the rest of the day, when the best part of the day is the few short hours where he’s finally, blissfully asleep and he doesn’t have to feel that odd heaviness that has made home in his chest, curled around his ribcage and leeched out into his limbs, when he’s there, on the pitch, in his body but not, moving the ball but not really playing, Jamie knows he’s in freefall.

[ashrillvenheim]

Awakening Past

Chapter 9

pairing: Ashley Graham x Leon S Kennedy.

Content: (+18) romance, angst, gore, erotic/suggestive themes at some point, slow burn, violence, action, self-harm, death talk,

If you're a MINOR or feel uncomfortable with any of these genres or ships, please DON'T keep reading, thank you.

Archive of our own / WORK LIST / Awakening Past Masterlist

prev/next

The cups clinked against each other. Water echoed like a mantra in the air, sliding between objects. The continuous hum of the oven became an enveloping echo, putting the cook in a trance. A deep voice hummed in the background. 

Pum

He removed the pasta from the water and placed it on some dry cloths. He followed with the filling and tomato sauce. He skimmed the instructions on his laptop, which rested on the kitchen island. His mind, totally focused, read carefully so as not to skip any steps, and just in case, he set timers so he wouldn't forget anything.

He wanted to get it right. Because he could do it right.

Pum

He lifted the lid and his stomach growled at the delicious smell that emerged from the pan. His blue eyes swept over the various items strewn across the countertop. Fortunately today Henry had let him sleep in and he had woken up at nine o'clock, which was unusual for him and thankfully he felt rested.

Since he had gotten there he slept better. He ran his hands through the water and dried them on a rag which he then threw over his shoulder. He had to admit that the morning was flying by, as it had been a long time since he had done any serious cooking. It might have been that those two years he had been working more in security than in missions, but the president's schedule didn't allow him to spend many hours at home. He had fallen out of the habit, and the burnt meatballs were proof of that. So better to focus on one thing.

Pum

Speaking of getting things done.

Pum

“ Don't you have anything better to do?”  his voice was directed at the body lying in his living room, which was throwing a tennis ball to the ceiling and then picking it up.

“ I'm doing something. “ the female voice replied.

“ You call spending half the morning lying on my living room floor something?”

The ball stayed in her hand a few seconds longer, as if her mind was remembering something, and then she threw it again.

“ It helps me study.”

“ You have such strange ways of studying.”  He paused and approached the room with his arms crossed. “And may I ask why in my house?”

She turned to look at him with her amber eyes.

“ Do you know how hungry I am since you started cooking? It doesn't smell like dog here so I can enjoy the food alone.”

“ Have you come to my house to smell my cooking process?”

“ And eat the result clearly.”

Leon arched his eyebrows with a derisive laugh.

“ Excuse me, I think I got confused, who did you say the dogs are in your house?”

He caught the ball like lightning and sketched his trademark lopsided grin. Ashley looked up from the ground at him with the same gesture.

“ I'm going to beat you up one of these days.” she snorted.

“ You want to fight? I've got more experience than you, you know.”

Ashley sat down cross-legged.

“ I might be able to put you on the spot.”

The man's eyebrow arched.

“ Are you challenging me?”

“ Next week, in the gym, after the biology exam.”

Leon stared at her trying to decipher whether she was serious or just pulling his leg.

He was foolish to think she was joking.

“ I'm going to kick your ass.” the agent's tone of voice grew menacingly aggravated, sending soft shivers through her body.

“ You're not going to hold back because I'm the president's daughter?” she joked, testing the waters.

“ Are you going to do it because I'm your bodyguard?”

“ Not a bit.”

“ Same to you.”

The timer went off, startling them both and making Leon walk back to the kitchen. He stirred the sauce in the pan and tasted it.

“ Hey Ash, come here for a minute.”

Without a second thought she got up and like an obedient puppy stood next to him. She watched Leon pick up a wooden spoon and fill it with some steaming gravy. He blew gently with one hand underneath so none of it would fall and held it up to Ashley's mouth.

“ I want to know if it's to your liking.”

She leaned over and Leon moved closer. Ashley took the spoon in her mouth and her eyes widened like saucers. She didn't move and Leon thought, for a second, that he had broken her. He tried to pull the spoon out, but she held it tightly making the man laugh.

“ Can I take it then that it's good?”

Ashley dropped the spoon and tasted noisily. The agent laughed at the happiness in the woman's expression and wiped the corner of her lip with his thumb without thinking. She tingled at the gentle caress, but shook her head to calm the growing sensation.

“ You can get back on the floor now.” the man teased, winking at her. 

Ashley grunted.

“ I'm hungry..." she mumbled, shuffling her feet and plopping down on the couch. 

She almost choked as she smelled Leon's scent multiplied on the cushions. She felt her muscles relax as she inhaled softly.

“ Be patient, I'll be done in thirty minutes.”

Another grunt, drowned out by the pillows on Ashley's face, reached him.

Leon began to assemble the lasagna in the bowl in silence, listening to Ashley's deep breathing as she lay on her stomach.

“ Are you gonna fall asleep?” he smiled, pouring the sauce over the pasta.

He heard a chuckle.

“- So you can eat all the food by yourself? No way, I was just thinking about next week.”

“ It's the last stretch, you'll be fine.” he paused, adding mockingly. “ I can always threaten the teacher to pass you.”

“ Just smile and ask them please, I'm sure they would get down on their knees.”

“ I don't have psychic powers.”

“ No, you're just a blue-eyed demon with the devil's smile and the charisma of a swindler.”

Leon put the food in the oven and scoffed.

“ I don't know whether to be flattered or terribly insulted.”

“ I'll let you decide.”

The agent took off his apron and put the rag aside to head into the living room. He stood in front of Ashley with his arms crossed.

“ Can her majesty grant me a small piece of her vast domain?”

Ashley cocked her head to one side with a crooked smile.

“ It's my couch now.”

Leon nodded.

“ And now I have a burglar in the house, you're under arrest for trespassing.”

Ashley shrieked as she felt hands on her waist try to lift her up like a sack. She turned quickly on herself, pulling out of the grip, but felt it in her side. The agent's fingers pressed into her ribs and shocks coursed through her body. Ashley squirmed in desperate laughter at the tickling.

“ NO! Please! STOP!” she exclaimed trying to wriggle away from him, but Leon drove his knee into the edge of the couch and grabbed her tightly, a devilish grin plastered on his lips.

“ You brought this on yourself Miss Graham. “ he scoffed, watching as Ashley curled into a ball, trying to protect herself with her forearms.

“ Okay! I'm moving!”

“ Ah ah, it's too late.”

Leon grinned and tortured her until she bounced off the couch and onto the floor. Ashley grunted at the blow and the man laughed sitting down in his usual corner. She looked at him indignantly and got up.

“ Have you got angry your majes-”

Cutting off his sentence she threw herself on the opposite side and landed her legs on Leon's thighs, tensing him all at once.

“ That was cheating.” She muttered looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to hide her blush. He smiled and dropped his head back, leaning back. His blue gaze was riveted on the lamp above him, as if in it lay the answer to all his problems. Though the real reason was so he wouldn't stare at the smooth bare legs in his lap.

The two of them stood in silence for a few long minutes, listening to the hum of the oven and the clatter of the cheese melting.

“ I'm nervous.”

Leon blinked suddenly and straightened up to look at Ashley, who was still focused on the ceiling.

“ Why would you be?”

Because she couldn't afford to fail.

Because what she saw a year and a half ago was something that had to be taken care of and if she failed and didn't graduate she wouldn't be able to prepare for an expedition. 

She couldn't use Narsson, not when she knew nothing of her real motivations.

She couldn't bring her into it. 

There was only her.

No.

She was no longer alone.

There were people who had gone through that one.

“ After so much effort I know it's harder to fail, but I can't help but feel that little bit of anguish.”

Leon's chuckle made her look at him and prop herself up on her elbows.

“ Would it surprise you if I told you I went through the same thing at the Academy?”

Ashley smiled and stood up, still with her legs over him. He rested his arm on the back of the couch.

“ The infamous Leon Kennedy nervous about an exam?” she joked, and this time the smile on the agent's face was sincere, even a little... sad.

“ So was I when I applied for the position in Raccoon City, when I went on my first mission as an agent, when I went on my second, and when they sent me after you.”  his blue orbs sank into her with a tinge of nostalgia. - every time I've had some important event I've gotten nervous and I still do.

Ashley leaned back on her arm looking at him with a curious air.

“ Well, you don't look like it. When... you came for me in Spain you seemed... stone. At first I thought you were immutable.”

“ Yeah, maybe I give that impression, I guess in this job you have to show your emotions as little as possible.” His gaze lowered to his lap where Ashley's legs rested and he noticed subtle, barely visible marks.

Scars.

His hand moved unconsciously and he touched with his fingertips some of them as he continued to speak. - But there are times when I think I lose the ability to feel, to... be human.

The hair on the back of Ashley's neck stood up at the shocks of those fingers on her skin. But she didn't move. She listened to him, wanted to hear him open up to her.

She cherished those moments when he decided to confide his feelings to her.

“ But you know what?” it was a soft voice, barely a whisper that reached his ears, turning to his golden eyes waiting for her to follow. - I have never thought you were less human, in fact, as I have gotten to know you I have seen that you are more human than some people, Leon. No matter how many missions you do, there are things you can never stop feeling, because if you did, it would be like losing your reason of being.

Leon's hand stopped and rested his palm on her twin enjoying the softness of her skin.

“ Wow, Miss Graham, you seem to have some experience, may I ask from where?”

She smiled.

“ You flatter me Mr. Kennedy. Let's just say I once knew a man from whom I learned things that neither books nor professors can teach.” Her lips broke into a sweet smile that melted him beyond repair. “ Maybe I can introduce you to him someday, he's a grouch, but he's a good person.”

And then she would tell him that he was the charismatic one. 

When she smiled like that and talked like that, it was hard not to be swept away. Her voice filled him up and rocked him hopelessly. She knew how to talk to him, how to soften him up and make him unable to say no to her. There were times he hated that she knew him so well but deep down, he was grateful to have a person he simply surrendered to without feeling vulnerable, if not accompanied.

He patted her legs supportively with a smile.

“ You'll do fine. You can always try again, but you've studied hard, you've turned in all your assignments and you understand the subject matter, trust your instincts like you did when you came looking for me all the way to the other end of a government camp.”

Ashley reddened at the show she put on two and a half years ago and laughed nervously pulling her legs away from the man's lap, both feeling the sudden chill on their skins.

Leon got up to go get the food out of the oven and Ashley jumped off the couch as the delicious smell flooded the room. Leon set the platter down on a board and brought out the serving dishes.

Ashley watched him like a cat from across the isle. Her amber eyes fixed on the agent's broad back and her mouth salivating at the intense smell.

“ I don't know if you're going to eat me or the plate.” he joked, grabbing some silverware and taking it to the dining room.

Ashley took the plates and joined him.

“ You might make a good side dish, with a little sauce you're sure to be tasty.”

This time it was Leon who rolled his eyes and heard her laugh as they both sat down and Ashley poured the drinks.

“ Is this lemonade?” Leon asked looking at the glass and taking a sip.

“ Yeah, I haven't made it in a while and now that it's starting to get hot I think it was a good time.”

The agent tasted it in his mouth. The taste of summer, of sun and heat against his bare skin. The sweetness that slid across his tongue like a caress accompanied by a subtle acidity and fruity touch.

“ It's delicious.” he told her, taking another sip and seeing how she smiled gratefully, taking a piece of the lasagna.

“ Let's see how it is.”

She blew on the steaming bite and then chewed. Leon watched her for any sign of displeasure, but saw nothing.

He only perceived the dilated pupils of her surprised eyes and her cheeks flushed with happiness.

“ It's... amazing... Leon, I've never tasted such a good one.” the joy in her tone caused his heartbeat to subtly quicken.

“ I'm glad you like it.” he ate this time, feeling the excitement run up and down his body.

And so it was, a quiet Sunday lunch followed by a calm afternoon.

Leon suggested going for a walk with the dogs to calm Ashley's nerves. There were times when they chatted, times when they stood in silence listening to the wind move the branches.

The sun passed through the leaves timidly, occasionally catching glints in their hair. The dogs ran and played with some of the children in the park. Those who recognized the animals turned to greet their owner and she responded, even approaching them to ask how they were doing.

That and trying not to die every time they turned to Leon and asked if he was her boyfriend.

“ No, I'm an old friend she hadn't seen in a while." he would reply each time, with a smile trained to perfection.

Ashley would have to get used to it, at least until the mercenaries' intentions became clear.

Then they would probably send Leon and Patrick to investigate about it and split up again.

She didn't mind. She was happy to see that he was safe and sound. She might want to continue to maintain a relationship through messages, she didn't want to lose the friendship she had acquired this past month.

They lost track of time and found themselves at the other end of the neighborhood in the middle of the sunset. The small hill they had climbed allowed them to see the vast fields stretching out in front of them. The warm rays caressed their faces gently and the reflections shone in their eyes.

Leon turned to his protégé and was struck by the way the light reflected off her amber orbs and blonde hair.

She looked like she was made of gold.

Her irises sparkled as bright as freshly polished amber and her golden hair, pulled back in a small half-ponytail, waved playfully.

Sunset was definitely her color. All those warm tones enveloped her like fire.

Ashley felt the agent's gaze and turned to him.

“ Is something wrong?” she asked with a smile.

“ I was just thinking.”

“ Can I know what?”

How long would it last, that calm, what would happen once the truth about the mercenaries came out? 

He liked that quiet, a breath of fresh air in eight years that he didn't think he'd ever have again. He was working, yes, but he felt free from the chains he used to have. He wanted to treasure all that time and although he knew it was selfish and irresponsible, a part of him wished the mercenary would never regain his memory.

But he knew it wouldn't last.

That it was all destined to end.

He didn't know if it was right to keep Ashley's number and chat with her when he wasn't there anymore.

She was still the president's daughter and he was a secret department agent. Maybe when her father's candidacy ended it wouldn't be the same, or... no.

He didn't want to think about that. It was just conjecture that wasn't going anywhere.

He smiled back at Ashley.

“ I'm going to have to change my exercise routine this week, I've been eating too much lately." 

She laughed playfully and reached over to him to suddenly pinch his waist.

Leon jumped looking at her in bewilderment.

“ You can give me what's left over from the lasagna if you think it's too much.”

“ Try to take it from me if you can.”

Like lightning he ran down the hill, swearing to her that there would be no more of that dish. Ashley called after him and ran after him like a gazelle.

Yes, this was fine, they liked it.

**

And so came exam week.

One week.

Five days to define whether she was qualified to graduate or not.

Ashley went into her first test with her heart in her throat, but her bodyguard managed to calm her down with a freshly made hot chocolate in the morning.

She had to admit she was glad to have him by her side.

She managed to focus on the three and a half hours each exam lasted. Leon would stand at the entrance guarding the room and every now and then a few professors would approach him for a chat. There was even one who asked him to cover for a few minutes while he went to the bathroom.

At the time she never believed that chalk could be lethal.

The rest of the day Ashley kept referring to him as "Professor Kennedy". It turns out that some students believed that without the teacher they could take advantage and cheat on the test.

What they didn't know was that Leon had the eyesight of a hawk.

And the aim of an angry llama.

Those two students were hit with a chalk each, but no one saw when he threw them, but it was enough for Leon to walk down the center aisle that they didn't even think to talk back.

It was a special case, but what fun it was to see him in the role of supervisor.

His serious and intimidating demeanor kept the students from staring at him, only when he turned around did they stare at those jeans that looked so good on his glutes.

Yes, maybe for some people he was more of a distraction than anything else.

Shortly thereafter the professor returned and he went back to his corner.

It was rather monotonous

They would arrive at the university, stop by to see the lists so they knew which classroom to go to, and Leon would wait for Ashley at the entrance. Then they would go to the cafeteria for a drink or lunch, depending on when their second exam was.

Leon would ask her some questions about the subject matter to help her with the final revisions.

That's how they spent Monday and Tuesday.

Wednesday was more or less the same. They went to see Narsson first, chatted with Maria and Patrick and during that time Ashley took the opportunity to work some more on her final presentation.  Leon watched as she put on her headphones while she wrote and subtly bobbed her head up and down.

“ Hunnigan told me that the president is thinking of contacting the BSAA” Patrick informed in Leon's ear.

“ They may be related to some of... you know.” Patrick asked, looking at Kennedy. He stared at the table as the pencil fiddled between his fingers.

“ If so, it means that whoever hired them has a special interest in that type of weapon.” he paused. “ But what do Narsson and Ashley have to do with it?”

The three of them were silent. They hated being in the shadows regarding the investigation into the attempted kidnapping of Narsson. Leon was even beginning to wonder if the mercenary had remembered more than the doctors credited him with.

“ He also told me that the boss has asked Hunnigan to have a personal debriefing with him.”

“ Uff, I pity the mercenary, Hunnigan has no mercy.”  laughed Leon.

“ Hey Ashley.”  Narson caught the blonde's attention in her native tongue. “  Could you come with me to the doctor's appointment today?”

Leon looked up at Ashley and saw her hand stop.

“ Do I have to go?”

“ Sasha has family business to attend to and Maria has paperwork pending. Come on, you got out of the week you had to take me.”

Ashley stared at the papers. 

It was true that she had gotten out of taking her to the hospital the week after the accident, thanks to Sasha and Patrick, but this time they weren't there to get her out of that one too.

“ Is it going to be long?”

“ Just sign off on the checkup and return the crutches.”

Her student ended up sighing in defeat.

“ Okay”

Narsson smiled cheerfully.

“ Thank you.”

The blue gaze shifted to his protégé and she raised her head to meet him.

“ We have to make a short stop at the hospital.”  Her voice was almost a whisper.

She knew Leon wasn't fond of health centers either and didn't like having to drag him to places uncomfortable for him, but she saw him nod with nothing to add. She wondered how many times he would have passed through the hands of doctors since Raccoon City and after all the missions he'd been sent on since then.

“ How is the presentation going? “ she then heard Narsson speak for everyone's understanding.

“ Well, I am organizing the last points for the presentation.”

Emma nodded.

“ Tomorrow I have the meeting with the rest of the defense jury, I will let you know who the professors are.”

“ Thank you.”

“ When do you have the work presentation?” Maria's voice reached her.

“ Next week, but I want to finish these preparations to have the weekend off, I want to rest.”  She made some last notes in her notebook and looked at the time.

She gathered her things to head to her exam.

“ I will come for you when the test is over.” she said to Narsson in her language.

The greenish eyed woman smiled and nodded and then wished her luck on the exam.

“ You can stay here, Leon, the classroom is very close.” she said, wanting him to chat more with Maria and Patrick.

“ And miss the chance to throw chalk at the cheaters? no way.”

They both laughed and said goodbye.

This test was the easiest of all for Ashley. She finished it in barely an hour. From the moment she turned the page, she hadn't taken her pen down. 

Leon remembered his theory test at the Academy, when he was told that he looked possessed when he concentrated on answering all the questions accurately. In his mind he couldn't help but sketch a smile.

There were things about him that he saw in Ashley that were similar and at the same time different. It was a curious thing.

As the hour passed Leon saw her look up at the window. The sky had clouded over and the first drops began to hit the glass.

She rested her chin on her palm and stared outside as she twirled the pen in her other hand.

The musty smell flooded the room and the rattle of the drops echoed off the walls. Ashley looked preoccupied, engrossed in an infinite spot on the University lawn.

The occasional chair could be heard sliding and a couple of students handed in their exams with pale faces. Ashley shook her head and took the opportunity to hand hers in. 

She and Leon walked out of the classroom into the empty hallway.

He turned to her when he didn't hear her utter a word.

“ Is something wrong?”

The woman frowned subtly.

“ No... but I feel... a strange sensation, like a bad feeling.” She paused and then waved her hand, playing it down. “ It's probably just nerves. I still have some exams left.”  she turned to him. - Besides, we have the fight tomorrow pending.

Leon laughed, putting his hands in his pockets.

“ Are you sure? You can still quit.”

“ Need I remind you that I've been training with Dana for over a year and a half?” she smiled mischievously. “ I'm not afraid of you.”

Before she realized it she was cornered against the wall, gloved hands on either side of her head. Leon looked deeply at her, his irises dimly darkened. 

Ashley's heart skipped a beat as she felt so intimidated by the man's strong body so close to hers.

“ Maybe you should, princess.” It was a playful tone, but compounded in warning. His lopsided smile gave him a fierce look and for a second Ashley didn't know what to do. She just looked at him, sinking into those sapphire orbs, feeling cornered... she saw him part his lips again.

“ You want to fight a government agent, gorgeous.”

Gorgeous, that was a new one.

That menacing aura awakened a part of Ashley, making her smile and take half a step toward him, defiantly. Their faces dangerously close and with a glint shining in their eyes.

“ I spent two months watching you fight, maybe you should be careful I've learned your tricks.” Leon's pupils dilated for a second at the purr in Ashley's words, like a feline approaching calmly and elegantly, but ready to attack at any moment.

Knowing that more... threatening side of her... he liked it, and in ways he wouldn't have thought possible.

He dropped his hands without taking his eyes off her, still with that amused gesture on his lips. 

His body vibrated at the situation, that mischievous amber gaze challenging him, inciting him in ways that drove him crazy. He rested his hand on his hip and let out a chuckle.

“ As long as you don't break my neck with that suplex you learned is enough for me.”

She watched him still with their bodies close enough to sense Leon's heat. Ashley reached up and adjusted the collar of the agent's jacket with a mischievous grimace.

“ I have other ways I could break your neck.”

This time it was Leon who was speechless and gave her a puzzled look. He saw her laugh and walk away without giving him any further explanation. He walked after her, but his mind was still on that cornered and confused look, the same as last Saturday, the same as that night in a tiny abandoned cellar.

No, stop it.

He shook his head to push those thoughts away. 

It was neither the time nor the place. None of those memories were supposed to give him all those tingles.

**

Narsson stared at her two escorts, who grunted at the same time. The glass doors slid open and the three of them entered the hospital reception area.

“ You're going to scare people.” Emma told them.  Leon and Ashley clicked their tongues and kept their grumpy dog faces on.

Narsson would never have thought the two hated hospitals so much. What the hell did they live in Europe?

“ We're going to wait for you here.” Ashley said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“ Aren't you coming upstairs with me?”

The blonde arched her eyebrows.

“ Do you need me to sign something?”

“ No.”

“ Then no.”

Narsson snorted a groan and headed for the elevator.

The two stepped aside and leaned against the wall. Leon watched as Ashley's irises sped around the room, then took a deep breath and exhaled with a grunt.

“ I hate the smell of disinfectant.” Leon mumbled, earning a restrained chuckle from Ashley.

“ I'll trade you, I smell everything but disinfectant.”

Her face was serious and calm, though he could sense the discomfort in her slightly twitching fingers.

Ashley sighed and tilted her eyes toward Leon, grateful that she no longer had to raise her head as she had when she first met him.

“ It had been a while since he'd been in the hospital.” she mused, catching the agent's attention.

“ When was the last time? - he asked.

“ Since we got back. If you count my visit to the vet, the second.” she paused to look at him “ and you?”

Leon was quiet for a few seconds. Remembering how he woke up in a hospital in Spain after being pulled out of the mines.

But about that Ashley knew nothing and he could no longer think of a way to tell her without worrying or angering her.

So he opted for what he usually did. Keep it to himself.

“ Since a year and a half or so ago, when I had my checkup after coming back from Spain.“ He fucking hated lying to her.

Ashley watched him for a few moments, waiting for him to add more, but when she saw that was the information he was planning to give her, she looked away, fixing her eyes on the floor.

Sooner or later she had to tell him. Maybe when she managed to form an expedition... maybe then she could finally do it.

She took another breath and tensed.

Leon stretched his neck seeing in the waiting room a lady taking off the stocking covering a bandaged foot to scratch it.  Then he heard his companion move.

He saw Ashley walk over to a nearby nurse.

“ I think that lady needs help.” the blonde pointed out to the woman.

The nurse looked at her quizzically for a moment, but decided to approach the woman just in case.

Ashley returned to Leon's side and a second later the nurse exclaimed for a wheelchair and took the lady away in the blink of an eye.

He turned to the blonde, confused.

“ Did you know that woman?”

She denied.

“ No, but what I smelled needed attention.”

“ I thought you were dizzy from all the smells in the hospital.”

“ Gangrene has a distinctive odor.”

The officer blanched and looked down the hallway where the woman had been taken and then back to her.

“ You may have saved her life.”

“ Maybe, she'll probably lose her foot, but she'll survive.”

Leon was surprised at how calmly she said those words, Sure she's all right?

“ You say that very calmly.”

She shrugged her shoulders looking at him and then she saw that twinkle in his eyes.

“ It makes me sad, I admit it, but I've done what I could, I'm not going to think about what I could have done if I had known it before.”

He listened to her attentively, surprised by her words. Definitely if they had spoken two years ago she would now be nervous about that lady, distressed that she hadn't realized it sooner.

But she was being realistic, something he sometimes struggled to be.

He felt those words like a cool breeze, a subtle reminder that he shouldn't succumb to his guilt monsters, just like they did in Racoon city.

He let out a soft sigh with a chuckle. She kept surprising him.

“ I'm done!”  the two turned toward the source of the voice and saw Narsson turn the corner of the hallway. “ Shall we go?”  she smiled.

Ashley pulled out the car keys and they walked back to the parking lot.

**

“ Are you dating someone Leon?”

The car hit the brakes as a pedestrian appeared out of nowhere. Ashley cursed squeezing the steering wheel and started up again. Leon caught a glimpse of the blonde and let out a snicker towards the teacher.

“ Don't you think that's too direct of a question for your student's bodyguard Professor Narsson?”

“ Oh please, don't be like Ashley, call me Emma. And I don't like to beat around the bush.”

The agent laughed in amusement and leaned his elbow on the passenger side frame grabbing a bottle of water.

“ No, I'm not seeing anyone.”

Narsson watched from the back seat, glancing at the driver for a few seconds and then at her escort.

“ Have you two ever dated?”

Leon almost spit out the water and Ashley hesitated at the constancy of speed.

“ Narsson, please.”  Ashley sighed, massaging her temples.

“ What?”  she replied.

“ We haven't had and don't have that kind of relationship, Enma.” replied the blonde as she stopped at the traffic light. “ We are friends even though he is my bodyguard and if you want to hit on him, please wait until I get out of the car and you two can talk alone.”

“ Wow, and I thought you would tell me some interesting story.”

This time it was Leon who intervened.

“ I don't think this is the best time, Professor Narsson. I don't know what made you think Ashley and I have that kind of relationship, but you're mistaken.”

Emma looked at the driver, analyzing her gestures. She had to admit she was good at keeping her composure. She looked at Leon, calm and unmoving.

“ Now I understand who you've learned from.”  the woman laughed, turning to Ashley and leaning back in the seat. “ You look more alike than I thought.”

Leon looked a little confused as to what Enma was referring to and turned to the driver who spoke before him.

“ In Europe I realized that I had to change a lot of things, of course I was going to look at the example Leon was giving me, he was the only one who could give me advice.”

The agent seemed surprised, but he didn't show it.  He had to admit he was proud of how well she handled awkward situations, but for some reason he felt a faint twinge in his chest.

But Narsson was not one to give up and kept poking her finger in the wound.

“ That's how romantic stories start.”  her voice was mocking and clearly intended to make the driver angry, but she held her ground.

“ We're not in a novel, Emma.”

“ So you don't mind if I steal him away from you for a while?”

“ I'm here you know?”

Ashley stopped the car in the parking lot in front of Narsson's apartment, unbuckled her seatbelt, turned off the engine and got out of the car.

“ Call me when you're done.”

And she closed the door.

The two watched the woman walk along the park walk with her hands in her pockets.

“ She took it better than I thought she would.” Enma then said. Leon arched his eyebrow and sat up in his seat to look at her.

“ Is that what you call taking it well?”

Emma looked into those piercing sapphire eyes.

Maria was pretty, but Leon Kennedy was something.....

“ I thought she'd get more upset. She used to do that before she came to Amherst, a little over a year and a half ago. After that week off she took she came back...different.”

The agent didn't understand what she meant. 

A year and a half ago? When he came back from Spain? What happened to Ashley while he was there? As much as his curiosity was whispering in his ear, he respected Graham's privacy. She had promised him that she would tell him everything after she cleared up any outstanding issues.

He trusted her.

“ Even so, Professor Narsson, I find it unprofessional of you to treat your pupil like this.”

Emma leaned toward him without looking away.

“ I wanted to test the waters.”  she whispered playfully. 

Leon smiled.

“ A very direct way of "testing" things, don't you think?”

“ It's worked for me so far.”

Leon stared at her.

He had to admit she was a beauty. That wavy brown hair that enhanced her greenish eyes and her laughing gaze, accompanied by a faint smile on those soft lips.

“ Do you think it worked?” he smiled teasingly. She looked at him like a feline.

“ Depends, will you take dinner?”

He had to admit she was daring. Ashley had told him a little about her.

Thirty-five years old, intelligent and elegant. Passionate about work, so much so that they used to remind her that there was such a thing as food and water.

It was a tempting offer.

Very tempting considering he hadn't enjoyed someone's company in a long time. He would be called an idiot if he wasted such an opportunity.

And for some reason his mouth didn't listen to the sound of reason.

“ Maybe. When my work is done I could make a small gap in my schedule.”

The woman bowed subtly.

“ I'll see if I can make some time for the day, Agent Kennedy.”

He let out a chuckle and got out of the car and then opened the door for Narsson.

Just as Maria had been told they arrived on time and the agent descended the stairs to the doorway to help her protégée upstairs. 

The woman arched an eyebrow when she didn't see her former protégée.

“ And Ashley?”

Leon laughed and turned back toward the park.

“ The Professor shooed her away.”

Maria turned to Narsson questioningly, but Emma played innocent and asked the man.

“ Aren't you coming up?”

He denied.

“ Ashley wanted to practice for tomorrow, and we have food to make.”

The "we have" sounded curious to Narsson, who smiled and went upstairs with Maria.

Leon said goodbye and walked with his hands in his jacket pockets towards the park. In the distance he saw Ashley sitting on the bench, petting a dog.  He watched her for a few seconds, seeing her smile at the animal a moment before the owner called him and ran off.  She watched the canine walk away with her elbows resting on her knees and then turned her head back to her hands for a few seconds.  With a sigh she looked straight ahead, somewhere in the distance and her smile faded until she was serious and staring blankly.

Leon arched an eyebrow, was she annoyed? He saw her step aside on the bench, having caught his scent from far away. The agent finished walking the distance between them and sat down next to her.

“ Is something wrong?”  he asked, leaning back with his arms outstretched on the wooden backrest. She turned to look at him.

“ No, why do you ask?”

He smiled a gently.

“ Because I know you.”

She stared at him, not knowing what to do for a moment, until she gave up.

She really couldn't when he said those things to her with that deep look, like a bottomless ocean.

She sighed.

“ Even my teacher has fallen for your charm.”

“ It's not my fault I'm so irresistible.” he boasted slyly.

She nudged him for attention and leaned back looking up at the treetops.

“ I'll admit I'm... envious.”

He turned away startled and heart racing.

“ Are you jealous?”

She was silent for a moment.

“ I'm jealous of you.”

Leon looked at her, puzzled, his eyes almost out of their sockets.

“ Of me?”

Ashley sighed, closing her eyes.

“ Don't get me wrong, I envy the ease with which you attract people without them knowing anything about you, how they are swept away by that aura of yours.”

He subtly turned in the seat toward her.

“ I thought you didn't like being approached.”

“ The ones who get close because they know I'm Ashley Graham, the president's daughter. It's just that…” She paused to rest her elbows on her knees again. “ even if it's not true, some people think I'm a whore who spreads my legs on professors' desks and that doesn't help people empathize with me, sometimes it's... hard.”

Leon looked at her, feeling a small pang in his chest.

“ The people I know don't know anything about me Ashley, I can't tell them anything, it's not much different is it?”

“ Well, the bullet scar on your shoulder and my whole back tear is the difference.”

“ That doesn't change anything.” he defended.

Ashley scoffed.

“ Leon, let's face it. A man with a gunshot wound in America is not the same as a woman with a full back tear.”

He looked deeply at her, realization dawning on him now.

Yes, he had to admit she was right. Maybe in his field of work scars were more normalized, but outside of it?

“ Are you... embarrassed by your scar?” he asked softly.

She denied with a smile.

“ No, it gives me pride to a certain extent. I'm not ashamed of the little scars, nor of my hands that haven't been as smooth as they used to be. I don't hate that. It's all part of me, but they are enough things to throw people off and now that I'm somewhat better... I don't mind so much that someone is interested in me even with these marks. I'm human after all and it's been over four years since I've had any...mildly romantic interactions.”

He watched her cheeks redden as her gaze became more elusive.

“ But at the same time I don't know if I'm ready.” she added later. 

Leon was thoughtful, somewhat accelerated by the direction of the conversation, but he took a breath and smiled.

“ It's hard to know these things Ash. Give it time, sometimes they show up when you least expect it. In a coffee you owed, on a last minute errand, pasts that come back... I'm not the best to talk about this, I haven't had a partner since I entered the service, although I do believe that the right people are found when you least expect them, but when you need them the most.”

His own words left him thoughtful, analyzing what they really meant.

"When you least expect them and need them the most."

They both looked down at the ground immersed in memories.

A honk made them both jump in place and Ashley stood up with tense fists. They saw a car next to Graham's and that's when she realized she had parked in handicapped. She motioned to the driver and ran toward the vehicle.

“ Hadn't you noticed? “ laughed the officer trotting alongside.

“ I wanted to get out of the car before Narsson took you into the back seat.”

They both laughed and got into the car to go home.

They were partly thankful, because neither would have known how to get out of the conversation they had gotten themselves into.

**

The hands of the clock echoed in the room, the only element that marked the passing of time.

The rain had been pounding on the windows since early morning and the dark clouds had made it necessary to turn on the lights.

There were sighs of defeat and papers sliding across the tables. The teacher had offered Leon a seat, which he couldn't refuse after sitting still for the previous exam.

He found himself chatting quietly with the lady, an elderly teacher who would be retiring in a few years.

No one tried to do anything strange. They had heard about Leon's unerring aim and his hearing. Partly the officer missed being able to throw chalk at cheating students, but not everything was possible, so he settled for giving them menacing looks.

This was Ashley's last major exam, biology. The next day she only had one last paper due and she would have the weekend to rest and pack up her final work.

And then she would be free.

The teacher looked at the time and announced that there were fifteen minutes left.

Some cried and others got up immediately to turn in the test. 

They walked out into the hallway, also darkened by the storm and looked the opposite way the people were going.

The woman's amber eyes turned to the man who gave a devilish grin.

“ Are you ready to lose?”

She held back a sly laugh.

“ Be careful Agent Kennedy, I've learned a few tricks.”

He cocked his head at her, his ashen brown locks darkening his countenance.

“ I can't wait to find out.”

When they heard the classroom door close as the teacher left, they walked toward the gym.

“ The janitor left me the keys, but we can only stay for a couple of hours.”

“ That's plenty for me.” he scoffed.

“ Are you so sure you're going to win easily?”

His gaze darkened and his lopsided smile was so sensual it almost gave her a heart attack.

“ You're not going to be able to walk for three days.”

Okay. Sometimes she forgot the things that could come out of Leon's mouth.  Ashley felt a tingle run down the back of her neck for a second, imagining for an instant how else he could leave her unable to walk.

" Ashley, focus."

She tried to keep her heart from racing too fast.

She had enough nerves, she didn't need to add sexual tension to the mix.

“ It might be you that gets wrecked, I have a very strong grip.”

Leon almost stumbled.

Ashley gave herself a mental slap. Yeah, well, her mouth could also process her brain's information for a change.

She didn't look at him, she kept walking while screaming inwardly.

Physically it was going to be a challenge.

Mentally? She was starting to regret it....

*

His throat went dry and he almost dropped the bottle.

She had to be kidding.  

A lot about him looking like a statue of Michelangelo, a Playboy model... But had she ever looked in a mirror? 

He saw her take off her pants and she was already dressed in a sports bra and a pair of short leggings. Her strong, tanned body was enhanced under the lights of the gym, which accentuated her musculature.

He had to admit that the climbing and Dana had done an amazing job.

His blue eyes couldn't help but slide down her athletic legs, up those gods sculpted glutes and over to her torso. Now that her back was turned to him he could see more of the scar on the criss-cross shape of her top, not quite, but the size of that wound was perfectly visible.

Yes, truth be told it was intimidating compared to the one on his shoulders. One from a bullet and one from a knife on the other collarbone, the latter a souvenir from Spain.

“ Are you ready?”  her voice brought him out of his thoughts. 

His eyes met those amber irises and he smiled.

He set the bottle down on the side of the tatami and took off his shirt.

"Blessed be the gods " Ashley thought watching those muscles tense. Pausing, for an instant at the knife scar on his right shoulder, making the memories come back to her.

But her thoughts were interrupted when she saw him toss the garment aside and stand at guard.

“ This is your last chance to surrender princess.”

Oh... this time he did. That "princess" had been mocking.

“ So is yours, Mr. Kennedy.”

Leon arched his eyebrow with a surprised smile now she was attacking his age? Apparently she hadn't been amused by the princess thing.

Better. More interesting.

They covered their hands with protective bandages and raised their fists.

Suddenly Leon saw the person in front of him change.

That laughing, cheerful look was gone.

With her hair pulled back and her pupils locked on him she looked like a predator.

Those amber, almost golden eyes looked feline.

Like those of a jaguar.

And he knew she wasn't kidding.

“ The first one to abandon or leave the tatami loses.” his deep voice echoed through the walls.

He saw her nod and they walked in circles. 

Slowly.

Their breaths slow and deep. Their gazes locked on each other.

They scanned each other closely, looking for some open spot, a vulnerable area. Leon found himself surprised with Ashley's good guard that left no weak points uncovered. Her flexed muscles allowed her to react in time to anything that came her way.

Should he wait for her to attack? Maybe that was the best option, but he had a feeling she would expect it. Surely he also thought he would hold back on her.

Honestly it was what he was going to do. As much as she told him she had trained these past two years, he had been working as an officer for eight years, not counting his years at the Police Academy. 

But again, he remembered that she had trained with Dana and with her, it was like taking a intensive training course where if you failed you ended up with broken bones.

Maybe he really did have to get serious.

Maybe she was more dangerous than he thought.

He sketched a mental smile.  

She might know a few tricks, but there was a difference between Dana and him.

Speed.

In the blink of an eye he lunged at her with his fist, but a kick was waiting for him and he blocked it with his forearms.

Leon took a step back and stood pinned in place for a second, feeling his muscles vibrate from the impact. He raised his stunned gaze to the woman and she watched him seriously.

“ I told you I've learned a few tricks. I may not be that experienced, but I'm good at counterattacks.” she snapped back to her guard. ” Are you still not going to take me seriously?”

No.

Definitely not.

Because that kick was just like the one he was doing. The one that had gotten him out of so many tight spots in Spain.

And she had learned it.

He launched another attack without hesitation. She raised her arms, but the agent made a sweep that Ashley managed to dodge at the last moment. With the leap she delivered another kick that Leon deflected with his palm and hit her with his elbow in the abdomen, but she subtly turned her torso so he wouldn't hit her full on.

It still hurt.

She grabbed Leon's arm in a headlock and turning her body, wrapped her thighs around his neck and with a downward inertia the agent fell forward, hitting the ground with his back. He exhaled at the impact and gasped, but suddenly felt weight on his chest. He focused his eyes and found Ashley sitting on his thorax, her thighs on either side of his head, keeping the agent's biceps gripped with her instep.

She was panting hard, with a victorious smile on her lips and sweat sliding down her neck and belly.

“ What, you give up? “ she gasped.

He went white for a second.

The soft ass cheeks on his chest, those thighs encircling his head and the heat of her crotch on his sternum. 

His brain went to form the most lascivious images it had created so far, but his body was quicker and reacted.

Without warning Ashley felt legs pass under her arms, only to violently crawl out a moment later. She somersaulted, landing on all fours and rolled at the last second to dodge a knee strike.

“ I'm quite flexible.” she heard him say when he saw her surprised.

He didn't give her a break.

He blocked a fist and dodged another sweep. She threw a hook and swiveled her hips dodging an elbow to throw a back kick. She caught him in the chest, but a broad hand rounded her ankle and pulled her in, grabbing her waist and driving her into the ground with his full weight.

Ashley gasped for air for a second, but followed her instincts, locking her legs around those strong hips and pinning his arms with her own.

She threw her head back with all her might, ready to charge, but he clung to her, pulling her arms and their bodies pressed together, blocking her movement.

“ We...re...you...think...ing to...headbutt...me?” his deep voice rang in Ashley's ear, sending shivers throughout her body, making her laugh.

“ I said... I was... serious.”

She heard a chuckle next to her that set off all her alarms. Leon broke away and suddenly counterbalanced to lift her into the air. Ashley gripped him tightly, but he jumped causing her grip to loosen. Like lightning, he spun on his heels, intending to throw her to the ground to knock her out, but then she released his arms.

Ashley bound him with her legs, running them across his groin like a snake and her insteps pinned behind his knees caused him to arch, Leon went to hunch over, but she ran her free arms around his neck and nape in a chokehold. Leon was too quick though and managed to get one of his hands in to protect himself from choking. She tensed her entire body and with a grunt Leon arched backward hopelessly.

They stood still.

If Ashley stopped straining Leon could pull her through the air and if he relaxed she could strangle or dislocate him.

It was a draw.

“ You could do a Suplex to break my neck.”  she whispered panting in his ear. Leon felt a shiver run down his spine.

“ And risk you breaking my back?” he laughed still tensing his body to keep from arching further. “ Where the hell did you get that much strength?”

she laughed.

“ I think the plaga altered quite a few things before you removed it from me.”

He'd figured it would be something like that. With the first kick he had been startled, but when he lifted her he saw that she was heavier than when they had met in Spain. To what extent had the plaga affected her physical structure?

The two struggled for a few seconds, trying to find a way to come out on top and win.  Their gasps and grunts intertwined in the silence of the gym and only the sensation of their burning bodies filled their thoughts.

Until the phone rang.

It almost gave them a heart attack, but they didn't let go.

“ Aren't you going to pick up?”  said the agent maliciously.

“ I don't trust you.”

The man's broad free hand slid to the thigh at his hips causing her to tense up. Finally Graham cleared her throat and let go of her legs and then released the agent's neck. He grunted, stretching his muscles and watching her go to the bag on the edge of the tatami.   She picked it up as she grabbed the bottle of water.

“ Tell me Narsson.” she drank waiting for her to respond.

“ I don't know how the hell she did it, but Hoffman has changed your presentation to tomorrow.”

She spat so hard that Leon was startled. He heard her cough violently, beating her chest until she was almost on her knees.

“ WHAT!!!???”

Her saucer-like eyes stared at the floor and the bottle in her hand burst under her grip. Leon watched her worriedly, seeing her face contort into a tense jaw and angry eyes with pupils shrinking in rage.

“ I tried to fix it, but she seems to have spoken to one of the jurors claiming that she had made an agreement with you to reschedule.”

Ashley froze with her body tense as a rope. She felt her blood boil like fire.

Leon had never seen her so angry. He saw her bring her free hand to her head after dropping the bottle.

“ So I have to get everything ready for tomorrow? What time?”

“ Noon.”

Ashley took a breath and a guttural growl emerged from her throat as she exhaled. Leon took a step toward her, concerned, sensing the violent aura she emanated.

“ I'm going to rip that bitch's eyes out and make her swallow them until she chokes.”

Leon felt a shudder at the deep animal tone.

Narsson apologized once more and hung up.

Ashley stood and took a deep breath. 

She closed her eyes and exhaled. She opened and closed her hands under Leon's deep gaze. He waited, feeling the tension in her as if it were his own. 

She looked like she was going to snap the neck of anyone who came near her.

And then she bent down, picked up the clothes, dressed and picked up the bag.

“ Let's go back home, I have to pack everything.”  her voice was alarmingly calm, something that surprised him, as it reminded him terribly of her father.

That attitude of dangerous serenity was equal to moments when some people who crossed the line with the president. In those moments William's eyes turned cold and his leisurely voice promised a sentence that no one wanted to challenge.

“ Are you all right?”  he finally asked, testing the waters.

She closed her backpack tightly and slung it over her shoulder.

“ No, but I've got more important things to do than go burn her fucking house down.”

Leon gathered his things without complaint and followed her.

The storm had worsened and the curtain of water created a veil with very little visibility.  

They left the keys in the janitor's booth and ran to the car.

Silence fell between them.

Leon glanced sideways at Ashley from time to time, seeing her serious face and her hands twitching on the steering wheel. It took several minutes, during which he was unable to utter a sound, fearful of upsetting her further.

But finally he saw her body relax little by little. He was patient, he wasn't going to engage her in conversation when he saw that she didn't feel like talking. He would wait for her to open up, just like she did with him in Spain.

“ A rematch is pending.”

Ashley's voice suddenly broke the silence and Leon turned around, now with a much softer tone. 

“ You let me go first.”  he joked, leaning against the glass and looking at her with a smile. Ashley subtly turned to face him and a faint, barely perceptible smile appeared on her enraged face.

“ You know I've beaten you.”

“ We'll have to see it in the rematch won't we?”

How his heart skipped a beat when he saw her smile at the end, sketching that gesture that, for a few minutes, had seemed so distant to him.

He liked to make her smile.

“ We'll set a day.”  she said, parking in the garage.

“ Whenever you want, princess.”

There was the usual "princess", nice and sweet.

How many variations could a single word have? With Leon it seemed like a lot, and she wondered how many more he had up his sleeve. 

But now was not the time to think about that.

She let out a long sigh mentally organizing herself as they got out of the car and trotted up the stairs.

Ashley was in such a hurry to open the door, she didn't even close it as they passed.  Leon followed her being greeted by the two furballs who looked at him questioningly at seeing their owner so upset.

“ Human things, you wouldn't understand.” He smiled at her, stroking their big heads and leaving the bag on the sofa. - “ I'll help you, what do I do?”

Ashley stood still.

“ Are you sure? it's a lot of things.”

Leon nodded taking off his wet jacket and shaking his hair, leaving it messier, giving it a more... wild look.

“ Yes, I still don't have to hand in the weekly report. Your workshop is down the hall, right? I'll give you a hand.” He walked down the hallway but Ashley stopped him suddenly.

“ Wait! Wait!”

He turned around confused at the nervous reaction she was showing him.

“ Is something wrong?”

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if thinking of an answer convincing enough to keep Leon from getting suspicious.

“ I've got fragile things in there, so I'd rather do that myself while you fill the packing boxes with newspaper.”

Leon cocked his head to the side with a " yeah...sure" but didn't want to insist.

If she didn't want to tell him it would be personal. He was her bodyguard not her brother, it wasn't in his range to be gossipy with her privacy.

“ That's fine.” He nodded, shaking his brown short-sleeved shirt. “ Whatever her majesty commands me.”  he smiled teasingly, but saw that she had her head elsewhere.

She pointed to the boxes and paper and then left him to go to the workshop.

She heard Leon take the things to the living room, where she had more space and start filling the sides of the boxes. She went about bringing the first plaster models she had and wrapped them up and then placed them in their respective containers, only to take them out again and stare at them. She decided that she would wrap all the models first and then distribute them, Tetris puzzles be damned.

She went back to the workshop and stared at the whiteboard in the back, full of pictures and notes. She had turned it over, thank goodness she had managed to stop Leon before he came in. She had recently added new notes, but if Leon saw that?

He would kill her.

The hours passed and soon it began to get dark. Leon couldn't contribute much more, Ashley knew better how to arrange the pieces, so he proposed to prepare dinner for her. She just nodded and continued picking things up at full speed. She still had to organize the illustrated panels she had prepared for each piece. She still had a lot of work to do.

And very little time.

He watched her subtly, glancing at her attitude as she went about her rounds.

He could tell she was nervous, but she maintained an incredibly calm composure. If he didn't know her he'd say she even looked calm, but he could see beneath that serious expression. Her brow subtly furrowed and her lips tenuously pursed. They were small details that made the man see how furious she was.

But her perseverance prevailed. Her willpower was greater than her rage and she hadn't been swallowing a bunch of jerks to now be driven by emotions.

If she had to sleep less to get everything ready for the next day so be it. 

It wouldn't be the first time.

Leon finished scrubbing the utensils and turned to her.

“ You have the food ready.”

“ I'll finish with the list of boxes and then I'll have dinner, thank you.”

Leon gave a sweet smile, but still looked at her with concern.

“ Are you sure there's nothing else I can help you with?”

Ashley stood still for a few seconds, looking around.

“ Can you move the boxes that are closed on that side for me? That'll be enough.”

Leon nodded, moving the boxes she had pointed out to him and arranging them in a corner so she would have more room.

“ I'm going to take the dogs out, okay?”

Ashley looked at him as if she had just seen an angel.

“ You don't mind?”

He laughed, grabbing the harnesses from the hanger. He looked at the animals running towards him with their tongues hanging out and couldn't help but laugh.

“ We've become friends, so we'll be fine.”

The woman exclaimed that he was a saint sent by the devil, to which Leon responded by sticking his tongue out at her.

“ Be careful.”  she told him with a smile.

He arched an eyebrow.

“ Why should I?”

“ I wouldn't want m bodyguard to be kidnapped and locked in a basement. You attract attention.” she teased.

Leon rolled his eyes and announced that they would be back in a little while.

Ashley watched him leave and stared at the door for long seconds. Her mind stopped thinking about work for a moment and she remembered Leon's burning skin beneath her, his head almost strangled between her legs and the sweat sticking to their skins. Her heart did an ulterior flip and she had to clench her hands to try to bring herself back to earth, to stop her thoughts from wandering further, taking her to imaginary scenarios, where she wouldn't have minded feeling those big hands clasping her around the waist....

"ASHLEY NO"

It hadn't been a good idea, she'd have a hard time sleeping today, if at all.

*

He didn't wander too far. He strolled along the stone paths in the park next door. He let the dogs run free and followed with his hands in his pockets.

Memories of his childhood came back for a few seconds, the years he'd been with his aunt and uncle after his family's.

It had been a while since he had spoken to them, and even less since he became an agent. Occasionally he received letters, but he barely had time to respond. 

He remembered his aunt's dogs. Three fierce beasts that became his best friends when his parents died.

He even slept with them when he had nightmares. Their woolly fur and warmth always managed to soothe him, maybe that's why he had grown so fond of these two.

He remained thoughtful for a few more seconds.

Maybe that was also why he was able to fall asleep when he was with Ashley in Spain, maybe her warmth reminded him of those quiet moments in his childhood. That would explain why it was so hard for him to get back into the habit of sleeping alone when they returned.

He paused remembering his second trip to Spain and how cold he felt when he was trapped in the mines.

How much he missed her. So much, he even dreamed of her and the tune she used to sing in Spain that he had ended up learning and humming.

Then his mind went back a few hours.

When he had been lying on the tatami with her on top of him.

Her fleshy glutes over his pecs and her strong thighs encircling his head. 

If he hadn't forced himself to go through with the fight at the time, it would have been very exciting, although it was already so now that he thought about it coldly.

He took a soft breath, remembering the heat that had emanated from her, the fire he had felt in his chest as he sensed Ashley's most intimate area. He had to admit that if she'd strangled him with those thighs he wouldn't have cared much... nor would he have minded wrapping his arms around them and pulling her close to him to rest his lips on-.

Stop.

Don't

Go

That

Way.

He shook his head violently.

No, that was a line he must not cross, not after the effort of those two and a half years.

He whistled to call the dogs when it was fully dark and the street lamps lit the streets.  They came delightedly and walked beside him as if he had been their owner all their lives. Even he was surprised by the familiarity with which they treated him.

As if they knew him.

When he went upstairs again, he found Ashley sitting in the dining room, checking notes as she ate dinner. She lifted her amber gaze to him with a big smile.

“ Dinner is delicious, thank you.”

Her words gave him warmth and he responded with the same gesture on his lips.

“ It's the least I can do. Let me know if you need anything else.” He picked up his things from the sofa, then added before closing the door. “ What time do you want to get up tomorrow?”

“ Not too late, I have to set this up before the presentation.”

The agent nodded and said goodbye to go to his apartment for dinner. He could see that Ashley needed space, no matter how well she carried the tension no one liked someone else meddling in their affairs.

He could sense the fury she was holding back and he understood it.

Backstabbing was not pleasant.

Leon listened to Ashley flit back and forth for a while longer, probably making sure everything was in place. He decided to fix himself dinner and check emails before taking a shower and going to bed.

So far everything seemed to be quiet. Hunnigan hadn't mentioned any special news to them, she even seemed to be opening up more to Patrick.

Johnson had told him that he called her from time to time to see how she was doing and to his surprise, she hadn't hung up on him once.

It was progress, it meant a step in mutual trust.

The agent's hand slid across the keyboard lazily.

He wondered what it was that Ashley wanted to tell him after graduation. He didn't like that she kept him in ignorance, but after all, he hadn't told her everything about Spain either, especially about the accident. They didn't use to interact much anymore at that point and after that, after losing his cell phone, they didn't talk anymore.

Until they met again.

The agent couldn't help but smile. All roads led to Rome.

He closed the laptop and went to the bathroom to take a shower. The fight may have been brief, but it had been intense. To his surprise he found himself thinking about what day they could have a rematch. Maybe they could go to one of the DSO tatamis if she graduated and they couldn't use the gym.

Yes, he was looking forward to fighting her again, definitely. 

***

Her body was burning, to the point of hurting.

She couldn't breathe normally, her gasps coming from between her lips hopelessly.

She could feel the parasite writhing between her intestines. She felt shocks running down her spine trying to take control of her body.

Her steps became clumsy, watching as the plaga tried to take over her mobility.

She couldn't let it do it, she had to control it at all costs. She didn't know what she would be able to do if she gave in.

She could hurt Leon.

A hammer blow of pain struck her temple, feeling her head burn from the inside. She curled into a ball in the corner of the room Leon had left her in. She heard gunshots in the hallway and clenched her fingers around her throat, trying to hold back the growing darkness clouding her mind.

She was losing, she felt it.

The parasite's claws were working their way up her nerves to her thoughts, corrupting them, poisoning them.

She stopped hearing gunshots.

She had to do something, bind herself, restrain herself somehow before Leon came through that door.

Quickly.

Clumsily she crawled into an old closet and rummaged for something to tie herself up with. She was relieved when she saw an old sheet that she tore into strips to improvise some ropes.

Her hands stopped.

The plaga was holding her back.

Anguish grew in her as she tried to regain control of her body.

No. NO. NO. NOT NOW.

She heard a click.

“ Ashley?”  those blue eyes peered up to look at her with joy, happy to find her safe and sound.

But she wasn't.

She tried to scream, to warn him to get away from her, but she couldn't.

She only saw his stunned expression as she jumped at him.

And everything went black.

***

She rolled over on the bed tensing her muscles. 

***

"Ah..." "Hmn..."

"Aaah..." "Ah, ah...a-ah..."

Gasps could be heard in the darkness.

Panting breaths coming together in a dance of moans and grunts.

She felt hot. Immense pleasure flooding her, as the rhythm of her heaving breaths moved.

She threw her head back and as if opening her eyes for the first time blinked.

She emitted a moan of pleasure moving her hips and lowered her head to focus on the body beneath her.

She bit her lip with a high-pitched inward moan.

That naked torso, his clothes torn and tattered. Those defined, seductive muscles, that torso sculpted by the gods wrapped between her legs.

She gasped as she rode up and down on him, her bloodied hands resting on his broad chest.

“ Ash...ley...stop…” a pleading growl echoed. “This isn't...you.”

She gasped turning her scarlet orbs towards the face of the man she rode. Leon's expression, contracted between pain and pleasure, sweaty and tense, made her smile.

Ashley extended her hands, now more claw-like, toward his cheek. Leon flinched as he felt the strong phalanges clutch his jaw violently. He felt her thrust on him again, wringing another desperate growl from him, and she leaned toward him. Her tongue invaded his mouth and the taste of iron coursed across his palate. Ashley kissed him voraciously, thirsting for the taste of his mouth. When she broke away, she surveyed her handiwork, the scarlet stain outlining the luscious lips and extending down to his cheek.

The red flattered him.

She wanted to paint him more.

Ashley smiled at the image as she felt him inside her, filling her every time she moved her hips up and down, moaning at the pleasure of having him.

He was hers. Only hers.

She thrust hard into him, moaning euphorically and making Leon grunt, bound between her legs. The agent had pulled so hard on his bonds, his wrists and ankles were raw, unable to break free of the hard knots.

Another onslaught made him throw his head back in despair.

“ Ash…” he whimpered in pain.

She glared lustfully at him, sliding her claws down his torso, causing him to tense. Fingernails caressed and cut the surface of his skin, not deep, but enough to make him bleed and hiss in pain. The woman's fingers drew scarlet lines to his abs and with a smile, followed by a lunge, she sank her claws into him.

Leon roared in pain pulling at his restraints and writhing in desperation.

“STOP, PLEASE!”  he cried pleadingly, unable to continue this torture of pleasure and mistreatment. One of his sapphire eyes flashed scarlet, making his aggressor gasp. 

“ Look... you want this too..." she tore the skin feeling the warm blood slipping through her fingers as she heard him pleading between screams and prayers.

“It's the plaga talking!!!!”  he exclaimed with teary eyes. He tried to wriggle away from her but Ashley pulled her claws out to sink them into his sides this time, making him squeal more.

She moaned in pleasure, licking her fingers and painting her lips scarlet, tasting the iron and sweat of the man she had desired so much.

A snicker came from her, quickening her thrusts and feeling the euphoria grow in her as she tortured Leon.

He pleaded her name again and over and over and  over again. Tormented. Dying.

She wanted to hear him more... so much more... she wanted him to scream her name endlessly.

Her crimson eyes looked at him dementedly.

She wanted to make him hers.

Wanted to possess him.

Wanted to break him.

Tear him apart.

Devour him.

***

He yawned turning on the bathroom light and opening the tap to drink a glass of water.  It was still early in the morning.

Darkness reigned in the place and silence flooded every nook and cranny. The sound of the tap water echoed softly between the walls and the soft click of the glass was a faint note that vibrated in the atmosphere.

The man sighed and turned off the light with the intention of returning to his slumber.

A sharp thump, 

A muffled exclamation followed by hurried footsteps and a slamming of the door.

Without thinking he pulled the gun from the drawer and opened Ashley's door with the weapon raised. 

The living room dark. The windows closed.

He heard gasps, coughs and groans of pain.

His heart was pounding wildly. He saw the light at the end of the hall and walked cautiously.

The door was wide open and a gasp came from the bathroom.

Leon pressed himself against the wall and parted his lips in a soft whisper.

“ Ashley?”

He heard a muffled exclamation, followed by another series of accelerated gasps. He moved closer to the threshold and opened the door wider to see what was going on.

He found her kneeling on the toilet, arms outstretched, holding herself up. Her locks, sodden, clung to her neck and sweat trickled down her back. Her muscles trembled and twitched with each contraction.

He watched her cough again, spitting up the bile that had been left after she had vomited.

He lowered the gun and took a step toward her.

“ Are you-”

A raised hand stopped him. 

Ashley gasped, releasing herself from the toilet and sitting up on her twins. She was breathing heavily and the hand separating them was shaking violently. He saw her tilt her head toward him and between her damp locks he saw her amber orbs with the pupil contracted until they almost disappeared.

 Leon flinched, which caused her to lower her arm.

Those golden eyes looked him up and down, as if she was making sure it was him, that it was real. Ashley sighed, closing the toilet lid and pulling the pump and then resting her elbows on the surface.

“ Give me…” she gasped shakily. “ One minute... please.”

The agent looked at her with his heart pounding, but he understood the feeling, so he nodded and walked toward the kitchen.

The dogs appeared behind the sofa, frightened by their owner's banging. Leon petted them to calm them down and took a cup out of the cupboard.

When he was little and awakened by nightmares at night, his aunt used to make him a hot drink. 

He made it calmly, listening to every sound coming from the bathroom. His own heartbeat began to calm down. His heart had almost broken his ribs when he heard the first thump, fearing the worst.

As he passed down the hallway he had noticed the open door to Ashley's room. Several books had fallen and a piece of furniture was knocked over next to the window, sheets thrown to the floor and beads of sweat on her trail down the hallway.

It had definitely been a bad nightmare. Like the ones he'd had when they'd come back.

He poured the infused milk into the cup gently and sprinkled some cocoa over the surface.

He heard a deep sigh followed by slow footsteps.

The agent turned to look at her, seeing her hair disheveled and damp on her face. Dressed in simple panties and a loose-fitting, almost soaked tank top. 

He saw her eyes reddened from vomiting and her pale countenance.

Their gazes met and sank into each other. For long seconds they stood like that, watching one another. 

Ashley was trembling, still with chills running down her spine. She didn't know how long she stared at Leon, making sure that there was no blood anywhere on his body, that his wrists were sound and not torn by ropes, that the tears of pain in his eyes no longer stained a face contracted with despair.

That he was not terrified of her. 

Then Leon took a step and leaned his hip against the curb of the countertop.

“ A nightmare?”

His voice woke Ashley from that limbo of illusions created by her mind, bringing her back to reality in front of her and making her sigh hopelessly.

“ It wasn't a good idea to take that pill.” Her voice was hoarse and she tangled her fingers in her hair to get them out of her face.  

Leon understood that because of her nerves she had taken something to be able to fall asleep and it had not gone well.

He watched her calmly.

“ Would you like to sit down?”  his tone was soft, almost a purr, showing his concern for her. Ashley sensed it and appreciated it, nodding, walking over to the couch. Leon took the cup and sat down next to her, in the gap that the couch made an L.

He held out his hand to the woman and she looked down at the drink in surprise.

“ My aunt used to make it for me. It's been good for me on bad nights so far.”

Ashley whispered a shy thank you and took the cup between her fingers. She watched it for a few seconds, seeing the even layer of cocoa on the frothy surface and then lifted it to her lips. She blew gently and drank some, licking her cupid's bow under a watchful sapphire gaze.

Her eyes snapped open and she took another drink with a sigh of pleasure. Leon smiled, relieved that she liked it. He watched her drink in silence, sensing her muscles relax and her cheeks regain their rosy color. Ashley's soft sips filled the silence of the room, plunging them into a trance, which after several minutes, Leon decided to break.

“ Do you want to talk?”

She remained silent, thoughtful. She moved the cup away from her mouth to rest her elbows on her knees. Her eyes were lost in the bottom of her drink for a few moments, recalling the scarlet color in her hands, the taste of blood in her mouth and Leon's pleas in her ears.

She sighed, closing her eyes.

She felt his blue gaze on her. She knew he wouldn't force her, but she wasn't alone now, he was with her. Just like he said he would, for both the good and the bad.

She set the cup down on the small table in front of her.

“ I couldn't control my body. I was trying to tie myself up before you came back for me, but I couldn't do it.”  paused, interlacing her fingers. “ And I hurt you.”

Leon looked at her, understanding the feeling perfectly. 

He still remembered those dreams where he relived the moment he tried to strangle Ada, but instead of her, he had dreamed what would have happened if he had attacked Ashley. He understood the anguish of hurting her in nightmares, where he could do nothing but watch what his body was doing and see the light in her eyes fade out with his bare hands.

Leon watched her trembling fingers and sketched a subtle smile extending his own toward her. He took her hand and brought it up to his chest, looking down at Ashley watching his movements deeply. She pinned his eyes, watching how she held her small hand in comparison to his. She sensed a strong heartbeat in her palm. Loud and alive.

She let go of Leon's hand gently and lifted it to rest on his cheek, causing the man to sigh subtly without taking his eyes off her.

“ I'm fine as you can see.” His voice was husky and deep, vibrating every cell in her body. Ashley nodded with a shy smile, feeling slightly calmer, but for some reason her body was still restless. 

Ashley's thumb stroked Leon's cheekbone gently, memorizing the shape and warmth, past the subtle scar. She sat sideways, crossing one leg and allowing her to reach for him with her other hand, which rested on his strong neck. Leon took a nervous breath and leaned into her irrevocably.

Like magnets attracted to each other.

They drew closer until their foreheads bumped. Leon raised his broad hand, tangling his fingers in the straight golden hair and with the other, held the small hand on his neck.

“ I was hurting you so much.”  she whispered, anguish tingeing her voice.

He looked at her with narrowed eyes and ran his hand from his neck all the way down Ashley's bare arm to her cheek.

“ But I'm here princess, I'm fine.”  His whispery velvety voice made her sigh and subtly tilt her head until their noses brushed.

“ I know, it's just... this dream, I've had it before and it was the one that made me push you in Salazar's castle.”

That statement surprised him and the hand on the back of her neck became more pronounced. He continued to listen to her in whispers, watching her move closer to him, touching their legs.

“ When I coughed up blood...I got scared...I remembered the dream. I put you in a bigger trouble and Luis tried to help me, all because I was afraid of that nightmare.”

“ Princess…” Leon's whisper made her smile, surrendering to the caresses of his warm hands. “ It wasn't your fault…”

Their faces, dangerously close, whispered silently as lovers. She opened her eyes again and wrapped both hands around Leon's jaw, holding his face lovingly and pulling away slightly.

“ I know.” she smiled sweetly at him. “ I don't blame myself for it, it's just... it's a nightmare that makes me think a lot of things and... that since then I haven't had again.” she looked deeply into his eyes. “ this time I won't run away.”

Leon melted at her closeness and hopelessly moved closer to kiss her forehead with affection.  He wanted to convey to her all his appreciation and support, and he was someone who expressed himself better with actions than words.

“ I'm sorry I woke you up.”  she apologized.

“ Don't worry, I had gotten up to get a glass of water.”

With that response she seemed calmer and curled up on the couch as she leaned her head against the backrest.

“ I couldn't stop replaying the presentation over and over in my head, so I took the pill.”

Leon bent one leg on the seat and rested his elbow on his knee.

“ Why is that?”

“ I don't know if it's explained well enough.”

Leon stared at their legs touching.

“ Do you want my opinion?”

Ashley picked up the cup again and began to explain her presentation. 

She wanted to think about something else, to distract her mind from those disturbing memories that had long since surfaced. 

Surprisingly Leon found himself very interested and listening to her attentively. She was clear, to the point and very fluent in her ideas. Leon was able to follow the thread of the subject without having any idea about it. 

He felt excitement in Ashley's voice as she showed him the sketches of her schemes and the way she lived it. 

She was passionate about it and he could see it in the sparkle in her eyes.

He couldn't help but be enraptured as he listened to her and he didn't know at what point, but he ended up with her in his arms, resting in the hollow of his chest and shoulder. She had settled in next to him, showing him the photos of the models she had packed. She also explained to him the casting and chiseling process to perfect them and create as accurate copies as possible.

And before he knew it Ashley had fallen asleep on him while Leon had been looking at the photos. He lowered his eyes to her placid face and sketched a smile.

He felt sorry for having to carry her to bed.

He put the cell phone aside and went to get up to hold her in his arms, but Pepper climbed to his feet and lay on top of him.

“ Pepper!”  he called in a whisper, trying to push him away, but the dog didn't flinch.

A few seconds later Mint climbed up behind Leon and curled into a ball, blocking the exit. The man looked at the picture in disbelief and ended up sighing heavily.

He had better get comfortable then.

He leaned back in the seat very carefully, keeping Ashley from waking up. He managed to reach with his fingertips for the blanket on the floor to throw it over them.  He held Ashley's head gently and moved to the side so they could both be more comfortable. Leon watched her in his arms and saw her snuggle up against him, slipping her arm around until she rested it on Leon's waist and the agent smiled, imitating the gesture.

Finally, he closed his eyes, letting slumber return to him.

He felt the warmth of the bodies of the dogs and their owner, and his mind traveled back to those years when, even though he had lost his family, he managed to find a place to call home.

He felt small again, enveloped by the comfort of the woman at his side. How he had missed that sensation...

So he hugged her tightly, sinking into the warmth she gave him.

prev/next

[suguwu]

some unfinished/discontinued lil tidbits below the cut including hirugama, nanami, and jjk spoilers.

the to-go coffee cup thuds softly against the desk.

"i don’t drink coffee,” higuruma says without looking up, flipping to the next page in his book. the sickly glow of his desk lamp throws his features into relief, shadows the deep furrow of his brow. it does little to hide that the bags under his eyes are like bruises, deep purple smeared across his skin.

you take a sip of your own. “i know,” you say. “just figured it might be time for you to start. you look like you’re about to keel over.”

“i’m fine.”

you raise a brow. “present your evidence, counselor,” you drawl. “because i’m hard pressed to believe that.”

he pins you with a flat stare.

you hide your smile behind the rim of your coffee cup. that unimpressed stare didn’t work on you during the multitude of 3am study sessions in law school—the two of you hidden deep in the stacks of the library, long abandoned by your peers,your feet daringly tucked up against his side as you argued mock cases—and it doesn’t work on you now.

he knows it, too. he sighs, running his long fingers through his messy hair, sending it rippling, a dark water eddy.

“what will it take for you to leave me be?”

“dinner,” you say promptly. “i know you’re not eating, hiromi.”

he pinches at the bridge of his nose.

"You don't want to see," Shoko says, not unkindly.

The bags beneath her eyes are deep purple smudges, wrinkled like an overripe plum. She taps her cigarette; you watch the ash tumble through the air like slow-falling snow.

"I know," you say. "Show me anyway."

Shoko has a flaying gaze.

You know that most people think of Gojo instead, Gojo and his comet tail eyes, burning and blue, cutting through the night, but for you, it's always been her—Shoko and her bone saw gaze.

That gaze rips through you now, opens you at the seams.

But Shoko is not one to repeat herself.

She sighs. Grinds her cigarette out in the overflowing tray, the pile like little rib bones, broken and twisted. She gets to her feet and beckons you into the stillness of the morgue.

You know him instantly.

The waves crash in your ears, a riptide song.

Your fingers creak as you knot them into the pristine sheet. Shoko presses warm against your side. Her long hair smells like ash and apples.

Your hand is steady.

(You run your finger over one of the tattered wisteria blossoms, feel it slip silken against your skin. They’re in full bloom. You can taste the pollen on your tongue, just underneath the sharp, sour tang of blood.

Nanami’s rough fingers are careful against you. Clinical.

You turn your hand, drag your thumb across his wide palm.

He pulls back. Don’t, he says.

After we're gone, you say. Can you give me that much?

Nanami stills.

The wisteria stirs in the breeze. The blooms remind you of the muddled edges of a forming bruise. A promise of pain to come.

Can you give me that much, Kento?

He gives you a curt nod.

It’s not enough, but it’s all you’ll get.

You think you might hate him for it.)

Distantly, you think that you should be crying. Or that there should be bile churning through you. But all you can think is that it’s not the worst you’ve seen.

You pull the sheet back up.

"Bury us together, won't you? Under his name."

Because in a different life, it would have been yours, too.

[kemendin]

Atmospheres

One of my favourite things in writing is setting the scene - the environment, the atmosphere, the vibes. And this becomes a fun little challenge I give myself when I’m trying to bring to life a canon setting in a game.

I look at screenshots and game footage, and I study the environment there - the colours and sounds and textures, the physicality of it, but also the mood. How it makes me feel when I look at it, and also how it makes the POV character feel, because those two reactions may be quite different. And then I figure out just the right words and cadence to really bring what I perceive to life in my writing.

For instance, I love the unsettling feeling of the Rakata vaults in SWTOR, and the whole vibe of Belsavis in particular, so I really tried to convey that in this fic:

Even in the depths of the cell blocks, Belsavis was never quiet. A low hum of energy was nearly constant as it carved its way through the ancient structures, and power gleamed in cold colours from the sockets set high in the walls. In the vast dimness of the corridors, the lights flickered like dying stars, and like eyes they seemed to follow the path of the intruders. Watchful. Waiting.

It was cold in the hollow passages beneath the snow. Some of the vaults were oddly temperate, warmed by the thermal energies of the planet where magma welled up through the crust. But here, Caspian’s breath shivered from him as he trotted along the sloping floor towards the surface. Scourge padded along behind him, an ever-present crimson shadow. Even though the angle of the floor put him below Cas, it did little to diminish the sense of his looming stature.

BG3 also has such rich, immersive environments, so even my so-far limited experience in describing them has been a blast. I’m very proud of my description of the Shadow-Cursed Lands from my first fic:

Here, though, it is different. The shadows that stifle this once-fertile landscape are thick, and coiling, and hungry. They do not merely lurk, waiting to consume the follies of the ill-fated; they are predators seeking prey, and they gnaw on the bones of the dead even as they stalk the steps of the living.

Dhamari can hear their hunger scraping around the edges of the campsite, where torches - plucked from rotting corpses on the roadside - now flutter and fight to keep the menacing fog at bay. The party has hunkered down for the night in as secure a space as they could find - a wide lip of stone sheltered by jutting crags on two sides and facing out into empty air on a third, exposed save for a few scraggly trees that still cling, quivering, to the precipice. More ash-grey branches hang overhead, twisting out from cracks in the uneven stone, their red leaves rattling in an erratic wind.

There is a foul tang on the air, the metal scent of dark magic wrapped around decades of decay. Even the fruits of Gale’s excellent cooking had borne the taste of it at dinner, but on the whole, the group had been too subdued by the atmosphere around them to offer much complaint. The meal was taken in taut silence, and then the weary adventurers had dispersed to their bedrolls, most drawing their tent flaps tight against the unsettling sounds emanating from beyond the boundaries of the campsite. Now, only Halsin keeps watch - minding the central fire, or else softly pacing the perimeter to check that the smaller wards of flame still burn.

I’m working on my next one now, which takes place in the Underdark/Grymforge. This is likely not the final version, but I’m already very pleased with the atmosphere I’m evoking:

The shoreline that greets them after their shrouded sail across the Ebonlake is not a welcoming one. There is torchlight to part the shadows, but it is harsh and brazen, and it glares in bronze reflections off broken stonework that climbs up and up into the cavernous darkness.

Long ago, this was perhaps a proud and impenetrable fortress. But now the structure is cracked and desecrated, seared by time and fire and caged by makeshift scaffolds that allow the duergar interlopers a means of clambering across the ruins. Yet shadows remain, uneven and treacherous, caught in the crevices formed by history’s slow forgetting of this place.

There is no beach to slide beneath their spiny craft, only a narrow wharf of straight-hewed stone jutting out into the unfathomable waters. Several other boats similar to their own are already moored there, looking unnaturally still until the silent ripples of the two new arrivals set the lake to lapping at their hulls.

So yeah! I find it’s important to establish the scenic backdrop of the story, because my brain is playing it like a movie in my head and I gotta know what it looks like and what the vibes are. (Can you tell I like describing eerie, abandoned places? xD)

[jellysaidshit]

Our story. Chapter 4.

Content warnings: angst, smoking, mentions of alcohol, hangover

Tag list: @badaseyebags (ask or dm to be added!)

This never was something she liked to do. The smell of new shoes and cheap coffee filled the conference room, accompanied by someone’s monotonous voice. She didn’t like any of this: too official, too serious, too fake. She rolled her eyes when someone disagreed with the speaker, causing the debate to start. 

“That is the most stupid thing I heard in a while!” A man in a grey suit exclaimed as he stood up. 

“But that is the best way to solve the problem!” The speaker tried to prove his point, but most of higher-ups did not agree with him. 

“River, what do you think about this?” A dark-haired woman, her mother, asked her. She smirked. 

“I think that this whole meeting could have gone well enough without my presence.” She leaned back in her chair as she fixed her black suit, looking straight into her mother’s eyes. The disappointment on her face brought River joy and happiness at that moment. 

“River!” Her grandfather exclaimed as he looked at the girl. That added even more adrenaline to her blood, and she smirked wider. “Be serious for once!” 

“Why bother? As if I’m not the last option to inherit anything in this company.” She shook her head before grabbing her cup and taking a sip of coffee. It was bitter, as if the multimillionaires couldn’t afford good coffee. Bunch of selfish assholes.

“You would be the first to inherit the hospital if you followed our suggestion and studied medicine.” Her grandmother looked at her with a stern look. “Instead, you chose to go to that cheap university and study useless psychology.”

“Well, someone should be there to fix your fucked up brains.” River swirled what was left in her cup and chugged the remains in one go. “Now, if you’d excuse me, I have that useless psychology assignment to finish.”

The tall figure stood up and walked out of the stuffy room. Hands in pockets, she chucked loudly when she passed her father, who sat right next to grandfather.

### 

The air at night was something River enjoyed in this life. It reminded her of the times when she used to sit on a windowsill in her room. Mother and father were asleep – or so she thought – and the big mansion was eerily quiet and calm. It was not noisy during the day either, but night made it feel relaxed.

She took a drag of her cigarette and exhaled. The bitter taste of nicotine was much better than the coffee she had at that conference room. She leaned forward to get a better look at the city right before the dawn. The bridge she stood on was her usual smoke place: convenient because it was right in-between her family’s company and her apartment.

River looked at her motorbike that was parked next to her on the roadside. It might sound strange to other people, but the black yamaha xs155r was the only thing that meant something to her. It was the first thing she bought with the money she earned herself, the first step of her own rebellion. She was sure that her mother would have a stroke if she saw her right now – standing god knows where, smoking god knows what while wearing a black leather jacket.

The lean figure finished the cigarette and took one more deep breath. She decided to get back to the dorm before the sun is up. River put her helmet on and seconds later she was already driving off towards the apartment.

The student accommodation was just as quiet as the whole city. The dark-haired girl parked her vehicle and took off her helmet before heading to her place. Knowing how thin the walls are, she tried to be as quiet as she could. Before she opened the door to the apartment that she shared with three other people and a dog, she checked the time. 4.45 am. These assholes need to hold the meetings earlier.

She opened the door as quietly as she could. The living space was dark, and every door was closed, which meant that everyone was asleep. The girl could smell the last bits of party that Ash and Beau threw earlier. She took off her shoes and walked on her tiptoes.

“The rule was to be quiet after 10,” River heard a voice. It made her roll her eyes. “Where were you?”

Nyx sat on the barstool with a cup of something in her hands. In the darkness. With all the lights off except one above the stove and making no sound. At almost 5 am. River looked in her eyes as she took the situation in.

“Well, I was busy,” she gave an answer that was, in her opinion, enough.

“Busy doing what?” The oldest girl pushed.

 

“Busy fucking some girls,” River deadpanned. When Nyx gave her a questioning stare, she pushed. “Why? You want details? Well, there was this blonde, she was so...”

“Enough,” Nyx didn’t want her ears to hear all of that. Just when she was starting to believe that River was the serious one out of the three children, the youngest had to jump at her with this. “I don’t need to hear all of this. Just be quiet, please.”

“Why are you up anyways?” River asked as she walked towards her room.

“None of your business.” the oldest grumbled before sipping from her cup.

###

That morning Ash wished they didn’t wake up. They would not have to be where they were right now. In the kitchen, with a cup of tea in their hand and a pulsating migraine, looking at the mess they made last night.

The apartment was in an awful state. Empty beer and highball cans, half empty bottles of vodka, some takeout boxes here and one-use cups there; they were in deep shit. The tall person slowly walked to the balcony door and opened it wide, letting all the sounds in and the sweet alcohol scent out. They squinted at the sudden light as their head started to hurt even more.

“Ash, please.” Beau said quietly as her head fell into her hands. The girl sat on the couch with a bottle of water. By her state Ash could tell that she didn’t sleep much. Beau did not drink a lot the night before, yet her head was heavy, and she felt sick in her stomach.

“Never again,” Ash said as they sipped their tea. They walked back to the kitchen as they tried to think through their plan.

“Never again,” Beau mumbled back. She lifted her head up and leaned back on the couch. “You clean the kitchen; I’ll take the trash and then we clean the living area together.”

“Deal.” Ash agreed as they looked around the kitchen thinking where to start. The kitchen was not a lot of work – drinks and food were mainly at the living space, so they only had to wipe everything and do the dishes. Not wasting a minute, they immediately started the cleaning.

When they started mopping the floor they heard River’s door open. The tall girl walked out of her room looking at whatever was going on. To be more exact, she saw Ash holding a cleaning cloth with two fingers and giggling while Beau was, as she assumed, explaining them where she can’t reach and wipe the dust.

“You, tall ass, quit laughing,” she scolded them. “I can’t reach that top shelf, please... be serious!” she jokingly hit them with a cloth she had on her shoulder.

“Beau, it’s not even that high! Ouch!” they jumped and moved around the room as the shorter girl smacked them with the weapon in her hand. “It hurts!” Ash noticed River as the lanky girl moved towards one of the bathrooms.

“I see party was a success?” She asked them. Ash froze in place, taking a deep breath. Even though the place was now clean and neat, they still remembered the scolding they received after being caught by Nyx.

“Nyx came home early.” Beau answered, shrugging. “So, no more parties, no more alcohol in the house.”

“Oh, I see.” River nodded and left to the bathroom, leaving the duo to their own shenanigans.

When minutes later she came back to her room, she had a displeasure to discover new messages from her mother.

Mother: Caleb H, 24 years old, med student. *1 file attached. 

Mother: the date is on next Friday, 6 pm. 

Mother: do not disappoint your family.

“Shit,” River mumbled as she put her phone down. 

Author's note: I am back! This chapter is dedicated to all of those who read this. Luv u <3

[hdstrng]

          taylor’s  two  years  of  travelling  before  college  started  out  as  a  single  gap  year  with  her  best  friend  from  high  school.      she  wasn’t  ready  to  go  back  to  school.      she  wanted  to  live  a  life  of  her  own  for  once,    at  least  while  she  still  felt  young.      they  flew  out  west  in  late  fall  after  their  senior  year  and  just  dicked  around  the  place  with  money  they’d  been  saving  up  for  years,    but  when  the  time  came  to  actually  think  about  going  back  to  school,    taylor  figured  she  wasn’t  quite  ready  yet  and  spent  another  year  on  her  own  trying  to  figure  her  shit  out.      

          this  time  it  was  just  a  little  more  career  focused,    and  she  spent  a  lot  of  time  working  and  later  on  looking  around  for  schools  that  might  actually  interest  her,    reaching  out  to  her  older  brother  for  help  to  a  bit  of  both  their  surprises.      in  the  end,    she  guesses  it  worked  out,    and  that  the  time  dedicated  to  herself  was  definitely  worth  it .

          (    also  lol  it  was  during  that  time  that  she  started  experimenting  with  her  hair  just  because  she  had  no  strict  adults  breathing  down  her  neck  to  tell  her  what  to  do  anymore.      she  had  pretty  long  hair  in  high  school  and  once  she  left  the  house,    she  started  trimming  it  gradually  shorter  and  fucking  around  with  colors.      maybe  part  of  it  was  to  piss  off  her  parents ,,, just  a  little  bit.    )

[eijishimas]

caught red handed.

18+ nsfw content. minors dni. all characters are aged up.

masterlist.

content warnings: f!reader, college!au, masturbation, mentions of alcohol, voyeurism, daddy kink, bit of a handjob, bit of oral (m!receiving), filming, slight degradation, creampie, one (1) instance of bakugou slapping your pussy.

notes: happy belated birthday to my bestie, @rekiri . you deserve the world and so much more, you’re sweet and hilarious and i fucking love talking to you, whether we’re joking or being more serious. i know you told me not to, but i really wanted to write something for you as a gift (because ya girl is a bit of a broke bitch). ik it’s not eren, kiri, or reki, but i hope you like this piece regardless. i love you, even if you annoy me to death, you whore /j. this one’s for you <3

wc: 2.6k | inspo (nsfw link): xxx

Everyone knew college was stressful. Deadlines nearly every single week, assignments and essays, not to mention attending classes brought a whole new wave of anxieties for students every single day. Sometimes that stress was either doubled or relieved by having a partner for a project or two. Luckily for you, you and your old high school classmate Katsuki Bakugou were paired up for a project for one of your Quirk Law classes. It was a research project, one that required a forty slide presentation. You were headed on your way to Katsuki’s dorm today to work on it at the time you agreed upon: 5pm. Then you two would study together for upcoming midterms. It was all planned out down to a tee. So at around 3:50pm, Katsuki knew he had time. He figured he needed a break from his Rescue Tactics Indoors II class, otherwise his brain would begin oozing from his ears.

Pushing aside his overpriced textbook, he rolled his shoulders back, hearing the cracks of his stiff muscles while he stretched at his desk. He let out a sigh, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand as he scrolled mindlessly through his socials. Mina had posted a Throwback Thursday post, an old one of him and you back in your freshman year of college. His nose twitched in annoyance as he recalled the parties, more specifically Denki Kaminari’s birthday party, where he had gotten so drunk that the walls melted and bent before him. Katsuki’s expression changed however, as he swiped through the collection of photos to stumble across an image of you and him. Have you always worn dresses that tight? You practically had your ass out from how short your garment had been cut, tits threatening to spill out of your low hanging neckline. Not only that, but Katsuki had an arm slung around your shoulder. His smile was stretched wide due in part to the alcohol in his system, but also because you were standing next to him. You were laughing at something Mina had said behind the camera, your hand tossed against the slightly unbuttoned shirt Katsuki had worn that night. Your fingers had brushed against his toned chest and he scoffed at the thought. Slowly but surely, memories of that party flooded back to Katsuki in waves.

They were mostly recounts from Kirishima and Mina, but apparently you two had made out in front of everyone that night. He swiped left again, swallowing dryly as he saw just that. Your manicured fingers were wrapped tight around his party shirt, tongues in a deadly dance of want and desperation for each other. Katsuki’s eyes grew as he noticed that the photo hadn’t cut out the part where he had been kneading your ass through that skimpy dress of yours. Immediately, Katsuki went to Mina’s dms demanding to take down the photo. And she did, thank god, but not without sending Katsuki more than ten photos of you and him making out at the party. He clenched his jaw, anger and a low desire plaguing his conscience. Glancing to the top left corner of his phone, he noted the time. 4:10pm.

He had time.

Saving the photos to his gallery, he pushed his chair away from his desk to have some fucking breathing room. His eyes flitted down to his sweats and as he expected, there was a tent forming. He groaned, wiping the sweat from his palms off on his pant leg before languidly beginning to palm himself through his clothes. His breaths quickened, chest stuttering as he looked to his phone displaying the photos of you and him. There’s a faint recollection in the back of his head of how you taste. Like cherries from your glossy lips, like vodka from the shots you took off of Denki earlier that evening, how you moaned into his mouth the night you had drunkenly kissed.

Katsuki tugged the waistband of his sweats down, allowing his previously constrained cock to breathe. It slapped against his stomach, heavy and leaking. Shit, he didn’t remember being this horny at the beginning of this. Spitting into his palm, he lubed up his dick as best as he could on short notice. His eyelids drooped as he swiped through the pictures like a filmstrip, a montage of all the best moments he had with you at that party. You grinding on his lap, you whispering dirty ideas you wanted to do with him later, you, you, you…

Katsuki squeezed his aching shaft, fisting his cock as precum dribbled down his slippery head. His face was an uncanny shade of crimson, a testament to how horny he was all for a few old pictures of the two of you. “Y/n.” He swore he barely recognized his voice from how breathless and needy it was. He continued to pump his cock, the only thoughts replaying in his mind were perverted fantasies of you bouncing on his dick hard enough to hear the slap of your ass cheeks against his abs.

Tapping the screen of his phone twice to zoom in, he admired your curves with pursed lips. Fuck, you really were gorgeous. Everything about you radiated a sinful nature he could never put his tongue on. You were tempting him, licking flames up his body with such intensity that made him shiver. He cursed, thumb drifting over his slit as he hissed. Fuck you for being as ravishing as you were that night, fuck you for making him feel so goddamn needy for your-

“Bakugou, I was about to text you but I remembered you were studying today, so I figured it would be okay if I came a bit...” your words trailed off. You blinked rapidly in an attempt to process the scene unfolding before you. Katsuki Bakugou, holding his dick in his hand, face on fire with a deep blush, his other free hand secure around his phone with- was that a picture of you from your freshman year of college? There was a beat of silence, Katsuki’s uneven breathing the only sound in the room aside from the low drawl of the ceiling fan over both of your heads. You gaped at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips upon realizing his hand hadn’t stopped moving. If anything, you saw his hand flex around his cock, further tightening his grip as you stood right in front of him.

“What the fuck-”

“What?” he beat you to the punch, his lips twitching into a devilish smile, “Don’t like what you see?” His confidence knocked the air out of you, your bewildered attitude showing true on your features. Your body feels warm, searing beneath his gaze. “Excuse me?” you squeaked out, overcome with both curiosity and a hint of lust for the ash blond.

“Are you gonna fucking help me or not?” His pride was refusing him to be flustered, not when he was this feverish for you. He needed the upper hand, he needed control over this situation. And it seemed by how you were shifting your weight from side to side, that it was happening just as he wanted. Who were you to refuse such an offer from Katsuki Bakugou?

And that’s how you ended up here, nestled between thick, muscled thighs with your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. He had you spit over his dick, his entire shaft gleaming in all its glory as it stood to attention in your grasp. The flash of his camera burned your eyes as you suckled on his crown, hand continuously jerking his cock while he ravenously watched you through the screen. The guttural groan that escaped him was nothing short of music to your ears, your thighs tensing as the coils of heat continued to build and knot between your legs.

“Mm. Keep going like that, take it. All the way in now, like a good little slut,” Katsuki instructed, his voice slicing through the heavy atmosphere of desire. The words make you whimper, enveloping his sensitive head in vibrations while you lick around his slit. A large hand cupped your face, forcing you to make eye contact with the ash blond behind the camera. His black tank top truly had no confines over him, since it was tight enough to see the outlines of his pecs and ripped torso. Katsuki sure worked hard to maintain his appearance, but you knew he had the strength to back those muscles up. The thought of him completely dominating you, holding you with strong arms and pinning you down with his body made your pussy even more wet with your slick than it already was. Even from how you were on your knees, Katsuki possessed an unspoken will over you. You wanted to please him, make him feel good, make him have no good reason not to give you everything he had to offer.

You took your lips off of his head with a little ‘pop’, eyes wide and expectant as a string of drool connected your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. Bakugou’s smile grew, making sure your face was completely in frame and in focus. “Dirty girl,” he hummed, thumb tracing the apple of your cheek before guiding your lips toward his twitching cock. You slowly kissed the vein on the side of it, mumbling out four words:

“Your dirty girl, daddy.”

The moment the words left your mouth, Katsuki let out a low, gravelly moan. It was as if a switch inside him had flipped. Without warning, he’s pulling you off the floor and sitting you down in his desk chair instead. He’s a bit rough, his vision clouded by the sheer want to fuck you until you were screaming his name, until his name was the only word your pretty little brain could recall. He abandoned his phone and instead had his hands drop to the armrests of his desk chair, encasing your body as he towered over you. Your skirt was immediately shucked up your waist and Katsuki’s hands went to work on your panties. He ripped them off completely, tossing them aside without a care as to where they went. He gazed down at you with fervour, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt.

“Who’s pussy is this?” he coaxes with a grin, teeth shining. His hand slipped between your thighs, his index and middle finger tracing up and down your slit. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your thighs instinctively closing around his hand. Your face bloomed with warmth, eyes darting away from his cocky demeanour, “Baku—”

Your body jolted as a firm smack was delivered to your sensitive pussy, a wet, lewd sound meeting your ears as he did. It made a high pitched, whiny moan be pulled out from your throat.

Fuck.

“Try again,” he ordered, tone demanding and almost condescending. His lips ghosted yours yet he never had any intention of moving close enough to seal the gap between the two of you. You whimpered, eyes meeting the dark red irises that were staring straight through you.

“‘S yours, daddy.”

“Now that’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

His lips found yours, teeth tugging at your bottom lip hard enough to make the warmth in your stomach double. The liquid heat had been building ever since you walked in, and you were fairly certain that you weren’t going to last much longer.

He hooked your knees over his elbows, biceps flexing as the muscles in his arms supported your full weight. He picked you up with such ease, your arms flying around his neck as you squeal, gasping at how little effort that took him. He was a pro-hero in training, of course he had practiced lifting people up no matter their body type or size. Either way, it didn’t matter to him. He thought you looked rather angelic clinging onto him regardless. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat with his hands spreading your cheeks, grunting as he adjusted you in his arms. He slid slowly into your slick cunt inch by suffocating inch, your walls fluttering and enclosing around his throbbing cock. Katsuki’s breathing was unsteady, eyes watching your expression intently in hopes that this new position would give you as much pleasure as it was giving him. His ego was running rapant from how you were holding onto him for dear life. You were practically shaking in his grasp, mouth open in an ‘o’ shape as all you could do was gape at how deep he reaches within you. You were keening, eyes hazed with lust and nails digging crescents into his shoulder blades hard enough to make him hiss.

When you finally catch your breath and adjust to his size, you give him a curt nod as an indication for him to start moving. Slowly, he lifted you up off his cock until his head kissed your entrance before allowing gravity to do most of the work. This position had his cock nudging your cervix and it made the knot in the pit of your stomach squeeze further, threatening to snap with every loud smack of his balls echoing through his dorm room. He pistoned into you like that, reaching deeper to rearrange your insides. It was like your entire body was being engulfed with pleasure and fire. He took in your face, how it scrunched in pleasure, hair sticking to your face as you mumble out how much you want to cum, how much you need to cum.

“Fuckin’ tight just for daddy, hah?” he cooed to you, “You wanna cum all over my cock like a little slut? You were watching me from the door jerking off for you. Dirty fuckin’ girl. Who’s making you feel good? Say it. Spit it out.”

“You!” you moaned, your head feeling light from the way the veins on the side of his cock rubbed your walls, “You, daddy. Please let me cum. I w- wanna cum!”

“I can’t hear you,” Katsuki rumbled, eyes steeled before you unmoving and unwilling to give you permission just yet. “Please!” you begged, “I’m a dirty girl. I’m your dirty girl, daddy! Please let me cum!” You were too engrossed in your pleasure to have any semblance of shame. Katsuki grinned. That’s what he wanted to hear. He let out a tiny ‘tch’ before uttering out, “Then cum, slut.”

Without another word, you let out a final wanton moan, gushing around him as the liquid heat finally expels from your body. Your orgasm hits you in waves, your body quivering with each new sensation as you hold Katsuki’s cock within your cunt. Your nails leave angry red marks along Katsuki’s shoulders, ultimately sending him hurtling towards his own release.

Cum dripped down his twitching cock, your chest heaving as your legs feel like jelly. Tingles shot down your spine as Katsuki pumped rope after rope of his sticky cum well enough to paint your inner walls white. He helped you ride out your high, delivering harsh bitemarks to your neck to leave a mural of hickeys claiming you as his. The smile he gives you is cocky, prideful, and arrogant. He placed you back down on his desk chair, your thighs still going through the aftershocks of your high. Reaching for his phone, he tapped the app icon for his camera. He knelt down, chuckling as your fingers slid between your legs to spread your lower lips for him. His cum seeped out past your slit, leaking down to your puckered asshole.

“There we go. Aren’t you daddy’s good girl, hm?”

Tiredly, you nodded.

“‘M daddy’s good girl.”

all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.

tags:

@lonleyweeb77 @cynthus-no @lonelyheart-cluband @smhhyung @stoopidnekobish @kiridarling @kirislilrock @baku-deku1 @hajisuu @damnitcrowley @foruthemoon @peaxhcringe @justanotheruselessextra @izukuuarchive @katsuki-kitten @shokoarashi sorry i couldn’t tag all of you!

want to be on the taglist? see here.

[mangoofthesea]

fluffy zukka beach fic inspired by @ash-and-starlight 's pretty pretty art you can find here

fic also on ao3 here

It was the last hot day of the summer, at least it was the last hot day forecast before they have to pack up and return to the reality of college in a couple of days. The last couple weeks have been spent staying at Mai’s family’s beach house, less than an hour’s walk from the nearby beach, the same beach which the four of them are currently hanging out on following their pattern of the most of their time spent on this vacation.

The weather is humid and airy, the brilliant heat of the sun shining overhead, bright and glowing, casting long shadows from the trees and houses as they had walked the path down to the beach, and now the only shadows being cast here are from the umbrella he and Mai are sheltering under. The sun is glancing off of the shining, turquoise water and pale sands, creating an air of magical beauty that is being thankfully undisturbed by the usual other tourists that would normally be flocking to such a beauty spot. The secluded nature of this pretty little beach on the east side of the island means that Mai only knows about it because her family have been coming here for vacation for so long.

However, it's not the shining sun, which he is hiding from at the moment for fear of over aggravating the reddened skin around his scar, nor the sparkling sea or even the delicate fluffy clouds overhead are what’s holding his attention most today.

Zuko’s whole focus is narrowed down to the beautiful man running back and forth on the sands in blue swimming trunks and floral shirt patterned with lilies, that is somehow garish but tasteful at the same time, throwing a beach ball back and forth with Ty Lee. He sees Sokka’s face light up with laughter as the beachball hits its mark on Ty Lee before he shrieks as he’s tackled by a blur of a pink strawberry patterned swimsuit and delicately corded muscle. It takes less than a minute for Sokka to get pinned by Ty Lee and for them to be back up and running around the beach like children.

Zuko sighs and rests his head against the top of the one knee he has pulled up to his chest as he watches them.

“Stop brooding, Zuko.”

Zuko spares a glance towards Mai. She’s holding her phone, but he knows she’s watching the two just as much as he is, a small smile gracing her lips as her girlfriend laughs, loud and musical over the quiet of the beach.

“I’m not brooding,” Zuko says petulantly.

“Yes, you are,” she sighs, placing her phone in Ty Lee’s woven basket on the towel beside her and swishing her black skirts over to better cover the portion of her legs that are just outside the shade of the umbrella. Despite the large shade over her head, Mai is still wearing her wide brimmed, deep red sun hat, somehow not sweltering and sweating the way the rest of them are. “You know you like him, Zuko, why do you have to make it more complicated? Just ask him out.”

Zuko leans his chin more heavily on his knee, planting it firmly like he’s making a protest. One which he is all too aware is childish and sulky in the way he’s being accused of. “Shut up, Mai. Not everyone can be you and Ty Lee.”

He catches her smile peeking out from under the hat in his periphery as she replies. “No, I suppose not. But that doesn’t mean you can’t give it a try for once.”

Zuko sighs and slumps backward until his back is flat on the towel. “Mai, he’s my best friend. And one of the best parts of college for me! I don’t- I can’t risk that,” he sighs again and stares up at the glowing orange of the underside of the shade. “Sokka’s just so pretty and brilliant and funny and he’s so great to study with and-” he cuts off as Mai groans, lightly kicking at his still stretched out leg.

“Yes Zuko, I know from the last five times you told me everything that’s great about Sokka.”

He frowns up at her but her attention has moved elsewhere again. Instead, he casts his eyes to the side where Ty Lee and Sokka are investigating the rock pools at the edge of the beach. Even though he can’t hear them, he can tell Sokka is talking rapidly. Ty Lee is watching him with interest, nodding occasionally as he points to different things in the pools. Despite Sokka’s major being engineering, his mind is full of other facts and fascinating information, some of which must be coming into play now. Zuko would happily sit and listen to him talk about anything. The way new information makes him light up as his brain moves a million miles an hour, and mouth working to keep up, the way his dark blue eyes dance as he speaks; it all enthralls Zuko in a way he knows he should be wildly embarrassed about.

Just as he thinks that, Sokka looks up towards them and waves. Zuko blushes at having been caught watching, even if he’s not sure how well Sokka can see them from the distance they’re at. He rapidly turns his head, staring back up at the umbrella’s canopy, eyes wide and face warm.

“He likes you too, you know. You can tell from how he looks at you.”

Zuko spares a glance at her, but Mai is still intently scrolling through her phone, holding her half finished boba in the other hand as she sips at it delicately.

She’s said it before, every time they’ve had this discussion since she came to visit him at the end of his first semester when he started realising that he maybe liked his new friend in a little more than a friendly way. More than a year on and the conversation has changed but its core is the same. He still thinks she’s delusional about Sokka returning his affection. People in love think everyone else is in love too. Even Mai with her cold heart and carefully contained feelings isn’t immune to that.

Not that Sokka would love him. And he doesn't love Sokka. Just...has a crush on him. A really huge crush that according to his friend Toph ‘even she can see, and she’s blind'.

But that's all it is. Really.

Maybe if he tells himself that enough it will start being true.

Zuko groans and throws an arm over his eyes. He doesn't care that it feeds into Mai's accusations about him being dramatic or sulking, the alternative is staring out across one of the most beautiful beaches he's ever seen but only being able to focus on one body.

"C'mon guys! It’s our last day at the beach, you can't stay under here the whole time."

Speak of the devil. Zuko peeks up around his arm, and oh, it's so much worse up close.

Sokka leans down to peek under the umbrella, looking sweaty and beautiful in an incredibly irritating way while Ty Lee bounces around to Mai's side, joining her girlfriend on the towel she’s sat on. Zuko removes his arm from his face to smirk at her and the way her sullen appearance has been destroyed by the grinning girl making herself comfortable half way into her lap, but she merely raises her middle finger from the others holding her phone in a half hearted effort to flip him off.

Leaving them be, he turns back to looking up at Sokka’s shadowy shape where he’s blocking out the worst of the sun. “We’ve been coming to the beach practically every day for the last two weeks.”

That doesn’t seem to deter Sokka’s enthusiasm. "Yeah, but still, c'mon! Look at this place!"

Sokka crouches down to sit on the slightly cooler patch of sand beside Zuko, partially sheltered under the umbrella and subsequently close enough that Zuko can feel the heat coming off of him. Zuko sits up, trying to not focus on the way Sokka's necklace frames the muscles of his neck or the way the sun is glinting off his earrings making him look like some pinnacle of the effortlessly beautiful beach boy. Like he was made to exist here instead of being born and growing up in one of the coldest parts of the globe.

Unfortunately, by moving into a sitting position, he is brought a close up view of those beautiful ocean eyes and blinding smile framed by the locks of soft dark hair not being pushed back by his sunglasses perched on his head.

Someone somewhere must really hate Zuko.

"Yeah alright, Mr. Grumpy. But we’re going home this week, we should have a last bit of fun! The tides are set to keep going out and there’s hardly a cloud on the forecast for the whole day! It’s basically a perfect day, even you can’t deny that.” Sokka grins wide, smile disarming in its charm and Zuko knows he’ll cave. He has every time they’ve come to the beach, even on days it was hotter than this Sokka eventually forces him out from under the shelter of orange and blue fabric and into the sweltering heat. And worst of all, Sokka knows it too.

“A perfect day doesn't justify getting more skin damage to add to my collection,” Zuko says wryly, just to try and retain some of his credibility that he’s so not easily swayed by a stupid childish crush. He’s aware of Mai and Ty Lee only a little bit away, Ty Lee now outside the protection of the umbrella, chattering as she roots around in her bag and reapplies suncream at the same time. Even without looking he’s sure Mai is paying enough attention to their conversation to be able to mock him about it later.

“Zuko, c’mon, I know you can stay in the sun at least for a bit when you put on enough sunscreen and if you protect your face. I’ll even help you with it if you want!”

Zuko thinks of the one occasion on this trip he agreed to let Sokka help him apply sunscreen to his shoulders and back. It was only the once as he discovered that he would not survive a second time without combusting in awkward embarrassment. The offer being extended again makes his face warm, and he hopes it could be passable as just the effect of the weather. It doesn’t help that Sokka both remembered and factored in his needs so easily.

“Zuko, hey,” Sokka’s face takes on a softer but still playful expression and oh Agni why does he have to look like that. “Let yourself relax a bit, okay? We’re gonna be starting a whole new college year in a couple weeks, and then it's gonna be all work. You can just enjoy all this,” he gestures to the beach with a wide sweep of his arm, “for another day.”

Their eyes meet and Zuko can see the soft affection there, one which mixes with the childish glee at being in a location he didn’t get a chance to encounter when he was younger and that he is now making the most of. He looks radiant like this, Zuko thinks. It would be so easy to just tip forward closer and -

“Hey guys! Remember I brought the beach ball today! We should totally have a game of beach volleyball!” Ty Lee’s musical lilt of tone startles Zuko back to the moment. The way he now notices he was leaning closer into Sokka to talk to him makes him feel unsteady as he tries to form a suitable response to that suggestion.

“Uh, what-” Zuko mutters as he leans back and looks to her where she’s somehow still kneeling on the hot sand without much of an appearance of bother, holding out the inflatable beach ball that was being tossed back and forth only a few minutes ago. The ball which they had also nearly lost twice on the walk here because they apparently couldn’t blow it up when they got down here.

“Yes! Ty Lee you’re a genius! Guys?” Sokka asks, grin back to full brilliance. His eyes switch rapidly between Ty Lee, Zuko, and Mai, eyes wide and pleading. Zuko feels entirely too aware of how weak he is for this man.

His one consolation is he knows Mai is just as weak for Ty Lee. Mai groans, and sets aside her boba, tucking her phone into Ty Lee’s bag. “Fine. If Zuko comes too, I’ll play.”

Zuko narrows his eyes at her, but she either ignores him or doesn’t see while extracting herself from her comfortable seat on the soft sand and delicately replacing her hat where she had been sitting.

Zuko turns back to find Sokka where he left him, looking expectant.

“Yeah, fine, okay,” he sighs. Sokka’s whoop of joy is mostly ignored aside from the little quirk of Zuko’s lips it inspires, instead paying attention to reaching for the sunscreen and reapplying a coating to his face. Sokka seems unphased, dipping out from under the shade and running towards where the girls are standing. Or rather, where Mai is standing and Ty Lee is bouncing on the balls of her feet, an action which makes the frills of her swimsuit flutter softly adding more movement to her figure.

Zuko’s last move is to take out his hearing aid for fear of getting it damaged by sand, placing it in Ty Lee’s bag alongside all their phones as the bag was the only one they brought with them. He finally extracts himself and winces as the bright sun hits him, sudden heat combined with the glare off of the water and the pale colour of the beach doubling to his feelings of discomfort, even with all his experience living in hot climates his whole life. Zuko wanders towards the gathered group where Sokka and Ty Lee appear to now be drawing lines in the sand with pieces of driftwood. He drifts over to Mai, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. They must look like an interesting pair in comparison to their companions, their dark clothes contrasting with the bright scenery; the one point of colour on his ensemble the bright yellow and orange flames on his shorts and on Mai’s, the pink broken heart necklace that she’s playing with as she watches the two more energetic members of their party decide on the rules for the net-less volleyball game.

“And you call me weak,” he says softly, tone teasing and fond.

Mai sighs. “Yeah well at least I’m dating mine already,” she replies, monotone and equally quiet.

He wants to be offended, but really, he has nothing to say for himself.

The game turns out better than expected, but Mai and Ty Lee still destroy him and Sokka in terms of points. Ty Lee’s superior athleticism and flexibility winning even in the face of his and Sokka’s best efforts, leaving them both panting and sweaty.

They decide to take a break after the last set ends with Zuko face planting into the sand for the fifth time accompanied by Ty Lee’s cheers as they steal the last set.

Zuko lies in the hot sand, feeling the sun making his already sweaty skin across the expanse of his shoulders heat more around the loose shoulders of his tank top. His eyes are thankfully protected by the sunglasses Sokka leant him part way into the game, after his first few minutes of squinting at the sun and missing the ball - a decision which ultimately did little to improve their game in the long run, but nonetheless achieved Zuko feeling even more flustered than he already was by Sokka removing his shirt completely towards the start of the game.

He hears Ty Lee and Mai’s voices drifting further away, but he continues to lie there, content to wallow in his failure. Then a chuckle sounds from above him as the ground shifts. He turns his head, spitting out a mouthful of sand as Sokka drops down beside his head, putting Zuko unfairly eye level with the thick muscle of Sokka’s thigh and the boomerang insignia on the edge of his shorts. Even distracted by that though, he makes an effort to lift his head enough to free his other ear to be able to hear.

“Well, I think we did better than I expected,’” Sokka says, leaning back on one of his arms and looking down at Zuko. His hair has been tied back at some point, undercut visible, and shirt abandoned in favour of improving their futile chances at winning. It’s all very cruel, Zuko thinks.

“They beat us five sets to one. And that one we only got because Ty Lee’s headband fell off.”

“Well, yeah,” he says, extending the last word. “Maybe could have gone worse though?”

“How?”

Sokka laughs, looking out at the sea behind Zuko. “Don’t know. You could have got carried off by an albatross?”

That startles a soft laugh out of Zuko as well. “I think that would have been preferable.”

He turns over, flopping onto his back and staring up at the blue sky shaded by the tint of Sokka’s sunglasses, skin over warm and muscles protesting after the unexpected exercise. He’s going to have to stretch when they get back.

“I’m gonna miss this when we go back to college.” Zuko turns his head, aware of the amount of sand probably in his hair at this point and simultaneously too tired to care. He makes a sound to show Sokka he’s listening even as the other boy keeps looking out towards the horizon.

“We never get to just hang out like this during the semester, we’re both so busy. Plus the weather isn’t exactly comparable,” he laughs, eyes darting to the sand then to the side and landing on Zuko. It’s not the same as earlier, not with the dark pieces of glass in the way, but it still feels like a moment just between the two of them, the only noise now being the sound of the sea on the shore and occasional bird calls overhead.

“Thanks for inviting me, Zuko. We should do something like this again.” His expression is soft and contemplative, the sun partially behind his head making him look so ethereal Zuko’s starting to wonder if he should be concerned he’s getting heatstroke. He wouldn’t be surprised at this point, but it would certainly be humiliating for the reason for it being ‘I was trying to impress a pretty boy.’ Then Sokka's expression alights, eyebrows rising and genteel smile widening into a full grin. “Hey, maybe next year I can take you up north!”

Zuko’s former serenity is immediately split between the confusing mix of emotion that sentence encourages. On the one hand, he loves the idea of spending any and all time with Sokka, the notion that he wants to take Zuko home with him and show him his hometown, making the warm fuzziness he associates with the boy double. Zuko feels so honoured, he wants to beam back at Sokka and agree immediately, despite it being more than a year away. However, at the same time he is aware that going essentially to the coldest part of the world would perhaps be...unpleasant for him, even with the warmth of Sokka’s company.

As a result, he’s not sure what expression shows on his face, though he can feel his eyebrows crease as he thinks and he’s glad at this moment Sokka’s view of his features is partially obscured.

“With...the snow?” Is what Zuko eventually says, and he immediately wants to throw himself into the sea. The close proximity to which is making the idea incredibly tempting. “Wait-”

Thankfully, Sokka seems to understand him and instead of getting offended, he throws his head back and laughs, the sound deep and rich and making Zuko feel like his humiliation is absolutely worth it to hear that.

He has enough sense that something in his mind sighs despairingly, seeming to finally give up on maintaining any semblance of dignity.

“Yeah, Zuko, with the snow,” he says when he’s recovered enough to speak around the giggles still escaping. Zuko rubs a hand over his face, then notices the sand still coating it and he has to brush it off of his face yet again. This somehow keeps getting worse, but Sokka is still waiting patiently for his response with an amused but patient smile.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, you- fuck. I mean- um, yeah. Yes, I’d like that, Sokka.”

Sokka’s smile ignites brighter, and it’s like Zuko’s given him a gift. Like Sokka has no idea the real gift he has just bestowed on Zuko. “Aw yeah! You’re gonna love it, Zuko, I promise!”

And despite everything in Zuko cringing at the idea of being somewhere so cold, he’s entirely sure that he will.

Then Sokka’s brushing the sand off his hands with a clap and bringing his stretched out legs in to stand. “C’mon, we still gotta finish this vacation first.” Sokka stands, reaching up as he does and stretching his arms over his head. As the sun pours over his figure, Zuko feels like some puny mortal at the feet of an Olympian, one who he would happily swear his fealty to.

Then Sokka’s looking down and Zuko realises he’s still lying in the sand staring up at Sokka like some hopeless idiot and feels his face flush. He coughs and sits up, grateful of the sunglasses again for covering part of his probably lobster red face. A hand appears in his periphery, outstretched, and he grips it tightly, allowing Sokka to pull him to his feet.

Once upright, he realises Sokka is no longer looking at him, and instead has his head turned towards the back of the beach. Zuko finds himself looking too.

Under the umbrella are the two girls, Ty Lee stretched out wide across the towels with her head on Mai’s lap as the other girl looks down at her while she sips the remains of her boba. Even at the distance, Ty Lee’s matching black broken heart to Mai’s pink stands out starkly against her tanned skin, the tattoos of pale flowers around it and her pink swimsuit contrasting and complimenting at the same time. She looks up to her girlfriend, talking animatedly. Her pink sunglasses catch the light occasionally where they’re clutched in her grip as she throws her arm out while talking.

There’s a familiarity there that Zuko has long envied. Mai and Ty Lee go to a different university to him and Sokka, so Zuko has only witnessed scenes like this incredibly rarely. He can count on one hand exactly how many in fact. But even so, every time it never fails to ignite a deep, aching burn in his chest, one which he hates because it’s caused by one of his best and oldest friends having a real happiness and contentment that is visible even through Mai’s stony exterior.

“They’re cute together.”

Sokka’s voice interrupts his contemplation with an inflection to it that Zuko can’t distinguish. It’s lost the hopeful joy he had only moments ago when they were sitting on the sand, and when he glances to the side to look at his friend, he sees the tight set to his lips and something distant in his eyes Zuko is unable to place.

He pushes the sunglasses to his head, taking in the other man in unfiltered brilliance once again. “Don’t let Mai hear you say that.”

His words seem to bring Sokka back and he turns his head quickly to look at Zuko. Then that smile is back and whatever Zuko saw before is lost. “Ah, she’s not that scary.”

Zuko raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, okay she is,” Sokka concedes with a sigh.

Zuko’s expression cracks and he smiles back, laughing softly. Then he lifts his hand from his head and extends it towards Sokka. “Thanks for these by the way.”

Sokka looks at the sunglasses in his hand but doesn’t take them, then he meets Zuko’s eyes and pushes them back toward him. “Nah, you keep ‘em. They look better on you.”

Zuko is sure that’s a blatant lie. The glasses have excruciatingly bright neon blue frames that surely clash horribly with everything about Zuko’s appearance, but he can’t find it in himself to argue. Especially not with the way he’s itching to duck his head and hide the way the gesture makes him feel. So instead he accepts.

“Okay, um, thanks.”

Sokka beams widely. “No problem.” He smacks him gently on the shoulder and Zuko hisses and jerks away, suddenly aware of a tenderness to his skin no doubt caused by the last hour or so spent in the sun.

Sokka withdraws his hand and his expression cringes apologetically. “Oops?”

Zuko stares back, warm fuzzy feelings for Sokka suddenly feeling significantly less. “I am fully blaming you for this.”

Sokka presses his lips together like he’s finding his pain funny and Zuko is definitely feeling significantly less warm feelings for this idiot. Well, he isn’t really, but he would if he could. “At least your face is okay?”

Zuko shoves hard at Sokka’s shoulder and gets a squawk of laughter in response before he begins his trudge back up the beach to the girls.

Zuko drops down on the edge of the towel not occupied and grabs the sunscreen to begin reapplying to his shoulders.

“Looking a little red there Zuko,” Mai says from where she has her fingers looped in the little curls at the end of Ty Lee’s braid.

Zuko makes the executive decision to ignore her in favour or focusing on the cooling feel of pouring the liquid over his heated skin.

Sokka joins them, flopping back on the sand in front of them and staring up at the small clouds floating across the sky, falling quiet for a moment as he no doubt feels the effects of their exercise as well. While his right hand continues to massage cream into his bicep, Zuko leans back and grabs a water bottle, tossing it to Sokka who manages to spot it and mostly catch it with only a little fumbling.

“Ah thanks, Zuko,” he says, leaning up on one elbow to chug half of the bottle in one.

They all settle into the moment of quiet peace, looking out at the sea and the quiet sound of the tides rushing a little further out. The day feels a little cooler now, it must be mid afternoon, but Zuko doesn’t want to use his phone to check, like that will shatter the little bubble they’ve created here where it feels like nothing bad beyond his own hopeless pining can reach them.

The sun has dipped lower in the sky, but it's still a number of hours until sunset probably, especially with how clear the sky is.

“What do you guys want to do now?” Sokka asks, drawing Zuko’s gaze back to him, staring up at him from where he’s lounging on his side in the sand. As he waits for a response Sokka reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, dislodging the tie and returning it to his wrist. The soft strands return to their place around his face, sadly covering his helix piercing but softening his appearance. Zuko’s distracted enough that he misses whatever the girls respond with, zoning back in when Sokka calls his name.

“Zuko?”

“Hmm?”

“You want to come in the sea too? It would be a shame to waste our last day without it. Might be good for the sore muscles and the sunburn too.”

“You mean the sore muscles and sun burn which are both your fault?”

Sokka waves at him while he hears Ty Lee stifle a giggle. “Details details. So what do you say?”

Zuko sighs. He’s hopeless, but he can’t find it in himself to dislike it too much when his agreement causes Sokka’s expression to light up with that beautiful childish glee again.

Another fifteen or so minutes of resting in the shade of the umbrella later finds him and Sokka wading into the shallows while Mai and Ty Lee drift off on a romantic walk along the front arm in arm.

“You guys should totally appreciate being able to swim in the sea without getting hypothermia more,” Sokka says as he wades in further, water coming up to the lower edge of his shorts. Before Zuko can formulate a response, Sokka jumps forward, plunging himself under the water then breaking the surface with a woop a moment later, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“Not all of us are as desperate to swim in a fish toilet as you are.”

Sokka chuckles as he stands, now waist deep in bright turquoise. The amount of times he’s seen Sokka shirtless and soaking wet on this vacation should have adjusted him to the sight, but even so, the sight of it still takes him unawares and makes him feel hot under the collar. Even at the moment where he has no literal collar to speak of, tank abandoned back under the beach umbrella.

It’s enough he feels he should avert his eyes a moment to get his bearings, and that is what turns out to be his fatal error.

He only hears a brief splash before Sokka barrels into him with a shout of ‘sneak attack!’ and suddenly Zuko’s being tackled by a large, warm body and dragged down into cool saltwater which engulfs him completely for a moment before he surfaces again spluttering.

He sits up in the water, spitting a mouthful of saltwater. “Sokka-”

Then his words die as he becomes aware of the laughter ringing out from the boy who Zuko is suddenly aware is half on top of him, kneeling at Zuko’s side and leaning over him, dripping water from the strands around his face, sunglasses still on Zuko’s head leaving him with nothing to hold his hair back. His whole body ripples with mirth, unbearably close and with so much skin visible Zuko feels like he's short circuiting in the best possible way. His heart is beating at a speed he thinks is worth worrying about, probably both from the shock of the attack and Sokka's close proximity now.

He's stuck there, leaning back on his hands, afraid to sit up any further to bring him and Sokka any closer together. Sokka's still laughing, guffaws turned to chuckling as his head is still slumped forward, almost close enough for his head to be resting against Zuko’s shoulder. It all makes Zuko feel unbearably fond of everything about this man.

Then Sokka looks up and its like everything, all the feelings from the last year of friendship, all little emotions he had tried to tamp down and hide and push into a little corner of his mind as he declared its just a stupid crush break forth when blue eyes meet hazel. Zuko suddenly feels like he can’t breathe with the affection surging through him for this wonderful being who decided to care about him and who he loves in return.

Zuko is distantly aware of a few things right now.

One is that he’s staring, and that there’s no way Sokka hasn’t noticed, because second of all he notices that Sokka has stopped laughing. Instead he’s staring back at Zuko with a soft smile that’s looking more unsteady by the second. Zuko wants to brush it off, break the moment somehow, but he’s locked in those beautiful eyes a deeper shade of the water they’re sitting in.

There’s salt sticking to his skin and burning in his throat, his shoulders hurt from the sun and where they hit the sand as he was knocked back, but all of that becomes background noise.

They’re so close their breaths are mingling.

Then Sokka’s eyes dart to his lips, and Zuko mirrors the action. And it's like the last piece of a puzzle clicking before they both tip forward and close that last couple inches of space between them.

They crash together with the taste of salt and sweat and the sea. Sokka’s lips are as soft as he had pictured, and taste of saltwater more than anything else. He tastes of the beach, of this vacation, fresh and new and inviting, and Zuko scrambles to kiss back, trying to make sure his actions speak better than he will ever be able to explain how much he cares for him.

It’s only a brush of lips, going no further than a soft press of mouths, partly open and gasping the taste of the ocean between them. Then its over and Sokka is leaning back, having the privilege of the position with more freedom for movement.

His expression looks soft and unsure, but with a look of something tentative there. Maybe something like hope. Zuko wants it to be hope so badly it nearly hurts.

“Um...hi,” Zuko says, voice coming out breathier than he expected.

Sokka smiles, confident and real and it’s like the sun has doubled. Zuko happily basks in the warmth of it.

“Hi.”

“That was...nice.”

“Yeah,” Sokka says smiling. “Is, um… is it alright if I maybe do it again?”

“Please.”

Zuko can’t find himself to be ashamed of the muffled happy sound he lets out when Sokka’s lips meet his again. He instead focuses on balancing his weight on one hand and bringing the other to Sokka’s head, tangling his fingers in the wet strands. He smiles into the kiss and so does Sokka, making their teeth click together. He’s soaked and tired but he feels more content than he ever has before.

Zuko decides he’s fine with summer vacation ending if it means in exchange he can return to the drab mundanity of college with this to show for it.