#but the little details reveal how sprawling time really is

[chewwytwee]

I’m not gonna smoke in an old ass graveyard again

[ohbueckers]

WHAT’S MY NAME? not everybody knows how to work my body, knows how to make me want it, but, girl, you stay up on it.

THIS IS PART FIVE! pairing, paige bueckers x tutor!oc. notes, it took me so long to perfect this the way i wanted so enjoy muahahaha. also paige saying she prefers netflix & chill fits so well with this it’s so funny. warnings, sexual content (thhhheeee moment) honestly just filth.

paige laid sprawled across the stiff hotel bed in austin, her back against a pile of pillows she’d thrown together. the only light in the room was from the bedside table lamp to her right, and her phone was propped up in front of her, angled perfectly so that she could take in every detail of liana’s face on the screen. paige knew she should be asleep, or at least pretending to be, considering tomorrow’s game. but she couldn’t help herself.

liana was curled up on her couch, wearing an oversized crewneck that slipped off one shoulder, revealing only a slip of her skin. her curls framed her face just like always, a few stray tendrils catching the light as she shifted slightly under her blanket. paige couldn’t stop staring.

“you look way too tired, bro,” paige teased, her lips curling into a smirk that liana was getting way too used to seeing. “let me find out somebody else been gettin’ you right while i was gone.”

liana’s eyes widened from their previously low state, the blonde’s words sending her into a fit of laughter. “please! you’re the only one keeping me up these days. literally.”

paige nodded eagerly, tilting her head up with a smile as if she was completely satisfied with that response. “good. ‘cause i’d hate to have to come back and handle business.” they’d obviously just been flirting, but there was always some realness behind that. it was more like, ‘let me find out naomi been gettin’ you right while i was gone.’

liana knew paige wasn’t just talking about coming back from austin; she was talking about coming back to her, making sure no one else had taken her place. making sure that talk had really happened.

liana let her head fall back against the couch. “work’s just been killing me,” she admitted, her voice a little bit quieter now. “and of course, i miss you.” liana, if honest, didn’t usually say things like that. not with naomi, not with anyone she’d been with before—at least not so plainly. but with paige, it felt different. it felt necessary. maybe it was because, since the day they met, they’d spent nearly every day together or at least made time to talk, even when things got hectic. it had become part of her routine, part of her day-to-day existence. and if you didn’t know, that’s the quickest, easiest way to get attached to someone, especially when that someone is putting in the exact same amount of effort.

it wasn’t just about the physical attraction, though that was undeniably there. it was the connection, the way they could talk about anything—or nothing at all—and it still felt like they were sharing something important. the little moments, the ones that seemed insignificant, were starting to mean everything. and that’s what made it all so complicated for the both of them.

“i miss you too, liana,” paige said finally, not able to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips as she moved her arm behind her head, adjusting her posture a little. following that, she couldn’t help the extra bit of focus she had on her screen. her eyes scanned down liana’s face, and as she licked her lips slowly, her attention was fully locked in.

liana noticed immediately. the look wasn’t exactly subtle, it never was. it made her pulse quicken, moving her phone out of frame as she rolled her eyes, unable to keep the smile from breaking through. “paige, stop trying to rizz me up over the phone.”

paige’s grin widened, chuckling as she ran a hand down her face. “so it’s working?” she asked.

liana laughed, shaking her head. “yeah, okay. you know exactly what you’re doing.” and she did. paige always knew how to push just the right buttons, how to get under her skin in a way that made her feel seen and wanted. it was part of what made it so hard to ignore. and maybe that was part of the problem, too—because liana knew just how easy it was to get swept up in all of it, to let herself fall into something that felt too good to be true.

and then, just like that, the door to paige’s hotel room swung open, breaking the moment. kk came in first, loud as always, with aaliyah, aubrey, and nika trailing behind her. liana couldn’t help but laugh as kk made her way over to paige’s bed, the blonde’s face immediately scrunching up, clearly annoyed they were interrupted.

“yo, p, you still cupcaking your girl over here?” kk teased, making her way over to paige with zero hesitation. she leaned over her shoulder, her widest smile filling the screen as she greeted liana. “what’s good, lili!?”

liana chuckled, the tiredness from before easing as she straightened up. “hey, kk. y’all treating paige alright?”

kk flashed a grin, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed now. “you should be asking if paige is treating us alright,” she shot back, the blonde instantly moving against the sheets to jerk her head back at kk’s words. but before she could say anything, kk continued her thought. “she gets annoying as hell when she can’t get to her phone to text you back.“

paige immediately rolled her eyes, trying to play it off, smacking her lips. “alright, alright, i didn’t know the feds was in the room,” she muttered, shooting her teammate a glare as she made sure to move kk’s frame from the screen.

aaliyah chimed in, of course. “yeah, she’s been getting real soft on us lately—smiling at her phone and everything.”

ice just shook her head, laughing along with the room. “she’s down bad, liana.”

liana couldn’t help but chuckle herself, the entirety of their words being absolutely hilarious, but also cute. there was something in the way they all talked about paige’s softness, the way she was smiling despite their jokes, that made her stomach twist in a good way. she liked knowing she had this effect on her, that she could make her feel something deeper, something real. it made liana feel a little more sure of what she wanted, of who she wanted.

the exhaustion from the day began catching up with her, and as she yawned, she could feel the weight of it settling into her bones, covering her mouth. paige, ever the noticer, shooed her teammates off, her teasing tone softening as she let her eyes fall over the large frame on her phone.

“imma let you go,” paige said quietly, running a hand down her ponytail. “you needa rest.”

liana nodded, smiling. “yeah. you do, too, though,” she lectured, flipping over to her side. “good luck with your game tomorrow.”

“we’ll talk after, okay?” paige replied, her eyes never leaving her screen. she hesitated for a moment, searching liana’s face for any sign of doubt, any worry that something was off. the doubt still tried to worm its way into paige’s mind, especially with everything unsaid between them. but she didn’t prodde, as much as she wanted to. she trusted liana, trusted what they had, even if there were moments when it all felt a little too fragile. in a few days, when they were finally together again, paige knew she’d let her actions speak louder than her words ever could.

after a busy day being back in storrs—filled with practice sessions and home game prep—paige was finally heading over to liana’s apartment. it seemed like their schedules had aligned perfectly for once, but even so, paige couldn’t shake the nagging wish that she’d been able to spend more of the day with her. the season was always busy, but lately, she found herself getting frustrated with it in a way she hadn’t before. it wasn’t just the games or the practices—it was the fact that she actually had someone she wanted to see, and it made everything less satisfying because it kept them apart. the promise of a quiet night together felt like a much-needed respite. the evening had settled in, and as paige approached liana’s building, she felt almost nervous. she’d actually been invited to sleep over, which they’d never done before. it felt intimately scary.

when she walked into the apartment, she was greeted by the soft sound of running water coming from the bathroom. paige closed the door behind her, locking it out of habit before making her way to the back. liana had insisted she come in without knocking, saying she’d be in the shower when she arrived.

paige wandered into the bedroom, dropping her overnight bag onto the floor as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. her tv played some music, and although paige had been in this room a few times before, it felt strange… different. it’s only because you haven’t seen her, stop it.

she could hear the water shut off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of liana moving around. paige leaned back on her hands, letting her eyes wander around the room, trying to steady her thoughts, but something caught her attention, her mind obviously wanting her to do anything but. it was a small pile of clothes sitting neatly on the bed right next to her. she blinked, realizing that liana had left them there, which meant one thing: she’d have to come out in just her towel.

paige licked her lips, her nerves quickly giving way to a different kind of anticipation. she knew she should probably look away, give her some space, but she couldn’t help but feel like the girl had done it on purpose.

her attention drifted toward the bathroom door just as it creaked open. and there she was—liana, wrapped snugly in a white towel, steam still trailing behind her as she stepped out. her skin glowed, still damp from the shower water, and her hair was still dry, cascading perfectly over her revealed shoulders.

a smirk pulled at paige’s lips, saying the one and only thing that came to mind. “daddy’s home,” she mumbled under her breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

liana rolled her eyes, though the laugh that bubbled up within her betrayed her amusement. “whatever,” she shot back, quickly grabbed the clothes off the bed, clutching them to her chest as she turned, making her way back to the bathroom to change.

paige’s eyes followed her every step, appreciating the way the towel hugged her figure until she disappeared behind the door again. when liana finally emerged, she was dressed in an off-the-shoulder tee and a pair of short shorts that showed off just enough to keep paige’s attention firmly locked on her.

“there,” liana said with a grin as she walked back over to where paige sat, sliding herself into the space between her legs. the closeness was natural, easy, like it had always been this way. “better?”

paige shook her head in a way that was deliberately iffy, still smirking as she admired her. “eh. you sure we’re not married yet? ’cause it’s starting to feel like it.” her hands found their way to liana’s body almost instinctively, fingers resting just below her hips. the touch was subtle, yet possessive in that way paige always seemed to manage without trying too hard.

liana looked down at her, placing her hands on paige’s shoulders. “married, huh? i don’t know, p… feels like you’d have to put in a bit more work for that,” she teased, though her voice softened toward the end. they both knew what they were doing, toeing that line between playful and serious, testing the waters without saying too much.

paige tilted her head up slightly, eyebrows raised. “really? feels like i been working overtime for you,” she shot back.

liana chuckled, her fingers absently playing with the ends of paige’s hair as she looked down at her. “you think so?” she asked, overall rhetorical. “maybe i’ll give you some credit… for effort.”

a few moments later, the two girls had long since found their spots at the top of liana’s bed, limbs tangled up together like they were made to fit this way. the room felt even smaller now, or it could’ve just been the proximity. liana had her head nestled on paige’s chest, her cheek pressed against her heartbeat that was trying to stay at a normal pace.

paige kept one arm draped around her, her other hand resting on liana’s thigh in a way to ground it, keep it in place. because paige was sure if she moved, she wouldn’t be able to contain herself. that same leg was thrown over her longer legs, her body angling into her. the movie played on, but neither of them were really paying much attention.

paige’s eyes drifted down to the girl in her arms, watching the soft rise and fall of her breath, the way her lashes fluttered slightly as if she were lost in thought. she felt liana shift slightly, her breath hitching for just a second before she settled again. paige tightened her grip ever so slightly, as if she could keep her from slipping away. she wasn’t sure if it was for liana’s benefit or her own, but it didn’t matter.

it was liana who broke the silence first.

“paige?” she whispered, her voice slightly shaky.

“yeah?”

liana hesitated. “can you move your hand?”

paige adjusted her posture slightly, letting her hand slide a little further up liana’s thigh, closer to her heat. she was still gentle, her movements innocent from anyone looking from above the covers. she cleared her throat. “‘course. wanna tell me why, though, baby?”

liana turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting paige’s with some soft intensity. they could make out each other’s features through the dark, knowing it like the back of their own hands. “making me feel things,” she murmured, voice almost shy.

paige’s smirk softened into something more genuine as she tilted her head, or maybe more mocking. “that a bad thing?”

she hesitated, eyes darting between paige’s eyes and lips, chin still nestled comfortably on her hand. “no.” her reply was a short, almost whiny breath as she shook her head.

paige felt a sense of satisfaction at liana’s response, that tiny, breathy “no” probably making her feel the same way. she loved this—the way she could reduce liana to these quiet, needy sounds with just a look or a touch. she felt almost addicted to the power she held, the way liana’s eyes darted between her own and her lips, as if she were waiting for permission. but beneath that, there was a softness too that came from knowing that liana trusted her enough to be this vulnerable, to fall victim to her with little shame.

there was no doubt they were inching towards something they couldn’t come back from. it should be savored, or simply not done at all, but only one of those options were actually doable. paige let her hand move just a bit higher up liana’s thigh, right where the girl needed her to be, fingers curling slightly against the fabric. “good,” she murmured. “’cause i don’t think you invited me over here just to sleep.”

liana nodded slightly, smiling. “definitely not just to sleep,” and before paige could say anything else, liana closed the distance between them, kissing her with all the strength and roughness her smaller body could muster up.

paige responded immediately, using one hand to guide liana’s body until she was perched on top of her, straddling her thigh. the weight of her smaller frame settled perfectly against her, and paige let out a low hum, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling of the heat radiating off of her. it was safe to say that they both unshamefully had some pressure built up.

liana’s hands found their way to paige’s shoulders, gripping tightly as she tried to keep up with the intensity. she could feel paige’s muscled thigh pressing into her, and her body was already reacting, hips instinctively grinding down, seeking out more of her if that were even possible. it was all-consuming, the way paige effortlessly took control, guiding her movements, making her feel everything all at once. like she knew she had to.

paige slipped her tongue past liana’s lips, exploring her mouth as her hands did their part on her lower body. hands roaming underneath her shirt, fingers digging into her soft skin as she pulled her even closer. paige’s heart raced, her thoughts hazy with the overwhelming urge to make liana just forget about everything else. about naomi, about any doubts or second thoughts. it was just them now, and she was determined to make sure liana knew exactly where she belonged.

every little sound she made drove paige deeper into wanting her. she loved the way liana’s fingers dug into her shoulders, the way her hips moved so instinctively. it was the kind of control that went beyond just physical—she could feel it in the way she was giving herself over. her fingers slipped into the waistband of her shorts, moving them right over her clit, not being interested in making her girl wait. with thought-out slowness, she began to rub at her heat, feeling the dampness that had already soaked through thanks to her lack of underwear.

“fuck, liana.” her mutter against her jawline almost went unnoticed, her voice low as she placed soft, messy kisses along her skin. “so wet. knew you needed me, huh? could feel it the second you started grinding this pussy on me.”

liana’s eyes screwed shut at paige’s words, her entire body shivering as she pressed herself harder against her fingers. the slickness between her thighs only intensified, her need growing with every passing second. she could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words, but she managed to let out a shaky, “y-yeah… needed you… so bad…”

paige grinned against her skin, her lips trailing down liana’s neck, ghosting over the spot from their night in the car that had started to fade with time. she made sure to leave a new one, sucking at it relentlessly for a few moments. liana bit her lip, trying to stifle the whimpers that kept slipping out, but it was useless. paige knew exactly how to unravel her.

liana’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking uncontrollably as paige’s fingers moved faster, in circles, up and down… the pressure building inside her. it was overwhelming, the pleasure throbbing through her in waves, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. “p-paige… i’m—fuck!“ she said, clearly frustrated she could hardly get her words out.

paige watched liana lose control underneath her with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, quickly throwing the thick blanket off of them so she had more room to move. “go ahead. lemme hear you.” her heart pounded in her chest, her own restraint hanging by a thread as she focused on driving liana over the edge. none of their other encounters had ever felt like this, this personal and damn good.

paige’s words hit liana like a command she couldn’t disobey. her entire body responded, trembling as the tension that had been building inside of her finally snapped. she cried out, following the blonde’s commands word for word as every muscle in her body tightened, then released in a rush, leaving her breathless and spent.

paige kept her eyes locked onto liana’s face as she watched every moment of her unraveling, licking her lips and leaving them glistening. she was lost, so completely undone by her hands alone. “that’s it, baby,” she murmured, her voice bringing liana back to reality, opening her eyes as paige slowed her movements, drawing out liana’s climax. “so fuckin’ perfect.”

liana’s breathing began to steady, though her legs still trembled slightly in the aftermath. paige, all in her lust, leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips. then another one, and another one… all while helping her off her leg and settle back into the pillows, smoothing the damp curls away from her forehead, her thumb brushing softly along her flushed cheeks. she just wanted to take care of her in every way.

for a second, paige thought about stopping there. that shared vulnerability was already enough, right? the way liana had lost herself, gotten comfortable real quickly—it felt almost sacred. they could have left it at that, and it would have been more than enough. but when paige looked into liana’s eyes—saw the way her chest still heaved with shallow breaths, the softness of her expression, the way her lips were parted in that unguarded, needy way—she knew they weren’t done.

liana looked like she wanted more. hell, paige knew she wanted more too.

she leaned in, capturing liana’s lips again, this time with more intent, more need, the kiss deepening as her fingers ghosted down her side. she loved the way her body responded underneath her, arching ever so slightly into her touch, like she was asking for it without saying a word.

paige pulled back just enough to murmur against her lips, “you good?”

liana’s eyes fluttered open, lips still plump, but there was a small, almost shy nod. “yeah… i’m good. i’m really good.”

paige smirked at that, kissing her again just to feel liana melt a little more before slowly hooking a finger into the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down and letting them drop off the side of the bed. she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of liana spread out beneath her, chest rising and falling as she watched her with those wide, expectant eyes. without breaking eye contact, paige grabbed the hem of her own shirt, tugging it off in one quick motion, leaving herself in just her sports bra. her shorts followed, discarded just as easily as liana’s.

leaning over the side of the bed, the blonde pulled her overnight bag up, rummaging through it for a second before pulling out the strap she’d packed. liana’s eyes widened a little, watching as she slid the harness on, adjusting it snugly around her hips. her focus was on the way paige moved—so sure of herself, so in control. but underneath that control, the girl was just as nervous, the receiving end of the strap pressing against her, giving her just enough to heighten every movement she made.

paige climbed back onto the bed, hovering over liana as she pressed a few kisses along her collarbone, down her chest. liana’s breath got caught in her throat when paige’s lips brushed just above her stomach, her hands instinctively finding their way to her sides, fingers digging into her skin as she waited for what was next. paige settled between her legs, hands firm on her thighs as she focused on stretching her out to get her ready.

“paige,” liana whispered, trying to find herself before they got around to that. “i’ve never…” her voice came out practically breathless, and it took a second for paige to process the words, but as they sank in, she stilled, looking up from where her fingers had been previously getting to work. her mind instantly went back to the conversation they’d had in the bar, the first time liana had really opened up. that night when she’d admitted she’d never been with any guys. she’d said it so casually at the time, and it didn’t matter then.

it mattered now.

she pushed herself up slightly, hands resting gently on liana’s hips. “it’s alright,” paige said softly. “we ain’t gotta do nothing y’aren’t ready for.” she didn’t rush or push, even though every nerve in her body screamed at her to keep going. liana’s comfort mattered more than anything else.

liana’s eyes were as wide as they always were, still dark with uncertainty as she contemplated something within herself. paige kept her gaze steady, her thumb brushing soothing circles against liana’s skin, doing everything to show her that this was her call. no pressure. no expectations.

she swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling as she looked at paige, the connection between them pulling tighter.

“i want it to be with you.”

those words, where she felt so sure, slammed into paige like a million bricks. it was everything and more than she’d expected, and yet, hearing it made her chest tighten. nobody had liana feeling like this but her. she let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, nodding slow. “okay,” paige said, her voice low. “just gotta know, li… you sure?” her tone was gentler than usual, but still distinctly her with that bit of edge that was all paige. she tilted her head, eyes never leaving the girl in front of her’s every expression.

“yeah… i’m sure,” liana whispered back, her lips barely moving as she adjusted her spot on the bed, and it was clear she wasn’t just saying it to say it. she meant it.

and with that, paige nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as liana’s first time was now left in her hands. she pulled back to focus, hands finding their way between her legs, fingertips grazing her wetness just like she’d done before. her movements were slow, deliberate, taking her time as she positioned herself, letting the tip of the strap brush against her heat.

she didn’t say anything, and she didn’t have to. she guided the tip along her folds, moving it slowly in gentle circles. liana’s hips bucked involuntarily, eyes squeezing shut as the sensation built. without another word, paige angled herself and slowly pushed inside, her movements careful and measured as she watched liana’s expression shift—first a slight wince, then her lips parting in a quiet gasp as she adjusted.

paige’s movements were thoughtful before they picked up, each thrust slow as she sought to make the experience as comfortable and intense for liana as possible. her blue eyes never left her face, as if tracking her down. the first subtle wince, the way her lips parted in a breathless gasp as paige pressed deeper another inch of her length.

liana’s hips bucked gently as she adjusted to the fullness. paige’s hands were steady, veiny, and using their grip firmly against her hips, sure to leave some kinda of mark. as liana’s breathing grew more ragged, paige guided her hand to her lower stomach, pressing it down so the girl could feel the bulge of the strap moving inside her. “feel that, baby?” her voice was low and throaty, yet expectant of an answer. “feel how deep t’shit’s in you?”

liana’s eyes mouth fell agape, her frame rocking up and down against the bed. her hand trembled slightly as it rested on her stomach, and the sensation was overwhelmingly good. she’d expected her first time to feel like a lot of things, this not being one of them. paige made sure to take care of her. she nodded, her voice a breathy whisper as she responded, “yeah… i can feel it… oh!”

paige’s grip tightened just a fraction, head falling over as she took in the sight herself, blonde hair creating a tent around her face. she let out a soft, appreciative groan, eyes locked on liana’s face as she took in the intimate scene.

as the intensity built, paige’s breathing became uneven, her hands still guiding liana through it, ensuring that every moment was as fulfilling as it could be. “doing so well,” paige murmured, as she watched liana become more lost in the moment.

her thrusts became more urgent, less controlled, and more sloppy. she could feel her own climax creeping closer—too close. she gritted her teeth, unwilling to let it take her first, not before she could feel liana fully surrender to it. with a low groan, paige pulled back, the sound of their heavy breathing filling the room as she steadied herself.

in one smooth motion, she shifted, pulling liana on top of her. “c’mere,” paige directed, positioning her so she straddled her waist. liana’s eyes fluttered open, dazed and already fucked-out, the slickness between her thighs coating paige’s strap as she lowered herself down, immediately gasping at the depth of the new angle.

paige’s hands found their spot just under her ass, fingers gripping firmly but leaving enough space for her to move as she pleased. “take it at your pace,” paige whispered, though her voice was thick with the kind of strain that said she was barely hanging on herself. watching liana ride her like this, hair tumbling down around her face, wasn’t doing anything to help her keep her composure. her hips rolled in the same motion over and over, riding like a fucking pro. no way she hadn’t done this before… or maybe the ‘things come easily to me’ gene ran further than just in the books.

liana bit her lip, her breath coming out in short, soft gasps as she rocked her hips harder, feeling every inch inside her. she leaned forward, pressing her chest against paige’s, entire body trembling as she whispered, “feels so good, p…” although it was more a whine.

“i know it does, li,” paige responded, her own voice starting to fray around the edges, overwhelmed by the sight and feel of liana on top of her, and now her broken voice saying all the right things in her ear, chests bonded together by the sweat. if this was what skin to skin was like, the blonde wanted to take her in like that forever. “takin’ me so good. you gonna come?” her hands slid up to her hips, tightening slightly and pulling her just a little closer.

liana’s body trembled, lips parted as she gasped for breath, barely able to nod. “yeah… oh my God… i’m so close…”

“yeah?” her response was breathless, almost there herself as she jerked her hips up to help, wanting liana to feel her deeper as she let her own hands drop, letting her get off by herself. “just let go. i got you.”

liana’s pace quickened, her moans becoming louder and more desperate as her body tensed. her head fell forward, hair falling over her face, and paige could hear the exact moment when she lost herself to the sensation. the heat between them exploded, and with one last thrust from paige, they both came undone at the same time, the release hitting like the best thing all night.

for a moment, everything was quiet except for their heavy breathing, the sound of their chests rising and falling in unison. paige could barely think, let alone speak, as she wrapped her arms around liana, pulling her close as they both came down from the high. the only light in the room came from the mounted tv, now playing random netflix previews, but it was the least of their worries.

paige was the first to break the silence. well, kind-of. it was a breathless laugh, her normal shit-eating smile returning to her face.

liana sat up from paige’s chest, her eyebrows furrowing in mock annoyance, though the corner of her lips quirked up against her will. “don’t look so smug.”

paige’s grin widened, hands still mindlessly rubbing her back slowly. “i’m liana bales’ first body.” her voice was filled with some playful arrogance, and she was clearly just poking fun, but she had only really come to terms with it now.

liana rolled her eyes, but her own smile broke through, and she shook her head. “don’t make it a thing.”

“oh, it’s a thing.”

[fgumi]

haunting horrors

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ synopsis: another hybe family competition and it has to do with a haunted house! since it's a company-wide event, partnering cross groups is allowed.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ pairing(s): boynextdoor x idol!f!reader, enhypen x idol!f!reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ genre: slice of life, smau, comedy ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a/n: i really love the horror house episodes that the groups do. they're so scared of everything. so precious hehe... ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ word count: 3.8k ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ read: previous or next

the cameras panned over the sprawling set of what was quickly becoming hybe label's most anticipated event of the year: the hybe haunted challenge. all the active idol groups under the label had gathered for this intergroup variety show, ready to compete in a night filled with thrills and terror. the haunted house stood before you, a towering structure of dimly lit windows and eerie shadows, setting the perfect stage for what lay ahead.

the concept of the show was simple, yet intense: enter the haunted house, find hidden clues, and complete a series of missions as quickly as possible to escape. the twist? each room was filled with traps, jump scares, and puzzles designed to rattle even the calmest contestants. the challenge wasn't just about speed; it was about composure, strategy, and maybe a little luck.

but the real kicker? the prize for the pair that completed the haunted house the fastest: $1,000 each and an all-expenses-paid trip to jeju, redeemable at each individual's discretion. that alone was enough to drive the competition into a frenzy. and this time, it wasn’t just groups competing as a unit. the notice sent out weeks ago had made it clear: “you can partner up with anyone in the company.” this led to a mad scramble across hybe, with idols negotiating and pitching for the best teammate to maximize their chances of winning.

for you, a member of illit, things were even crazier. known for your calmness under pressure and unshakeable composure, it seemed like everyone wanted you as their partner. since the announcement, your phone had been blowing up with texts from members of boynextdoor and enhypen, all trying to convince you why they would be the best teammate for this haunted house challenge.

the evening sky darkened further, and the excitement around the haunted house set grew. you could see idols from different groups glancing nervously at the looming structure, each of them mentally preparing for the challenge ahead. the tension in the air was almost tangible—everyone wanted to win, not just for the prize, but for bragging rights.

your phone buzzed again, reminding you that you still hadn't made your final decision. after scrolling through the latest pitches, a name stood out in your mind.

you: i’ve decided! my partner is… taesan. let’s win this thing 💪😎

seconds later, a message popped up:

dj min: let's gooo!

as you made your way over to taesan, a few disappointed groans and playful insults floated your way from some of the other members, but you couldn’t help laughing it off. everyone wanted to partner with you, but you knew taesan would be the perfect choice. calm, collected, and completely unfazed by anything, he matched your energy exactly.

“ready to win this thing?” he asked with a grin as you joined him.

“absolutely. let’s show them how it’s done.”

the two of you stood at the entrance to the haunted house, a creaky door hanging slightly ajar.

the haunted house door creaked open with an eerie groan, revealing a dimly lit hallway that led into the unknown. the atmosphere was thick with tension, the kind designed to make even the bravest contestant hesitate. but as you and taesan stepped inside, your expressions remained unreadable, more interested in completing the mission than in the staged horrors surrounding you.

the first card you received detailed your initial task:

"mission 1: retrieve the key from the haunted kitchen. beware of the ghost that protects it."

the cameras zoomed in as you and taesan exchanged a glance and casually made your way down the dark hallway. the lighting was purposefully low, and unsettling creaks echoed with every step. a faint rattling sound came from above, followed by a loud bang that echoed through the walls.

“that’s one way to set the mood,” taesan commented dryly.

at the kitchen entrance, a shadowy figure suddenly appeared, gliding across the floor toward you. the actor, fully dressed as a ghostly butler with hollow eyes, floated closer, moaning as if to signal danger. the cameras captured the ghost's dramatic approach, the perfect moment to make contestants scream.

instead, you and taesan barely gave him a second glance.

“key’s probably hidden in the drawers,” you said, moving past the ghost without breaking stride.

the ghost paused mid-groan, clearly taken aback by your lack of reaction. he tried again, this time lunging forward with a wail, but neither you nor taesan flinched. unbothered, you calmly opened the kitchen drawers, searching for the key.

taesan found it tucked inside an old tea kettle. “got it.”

without a word, you both headed for the door, leaving the ghost standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen.

"mission 2: solve the riddle in the living room to unlock the next clue."

after retrieving the key, the two of you made your way toward the haunted living room. the air grew colder, and the flickering lights overhead buzzed ominously. the staff had rigged the room with an old radio playing static, giving the place a chilling, abandoned feel.

taesan glanced at the radio. “i think they’re trying to scare us with white noise.”

you stifled a chuckle, walking past the flickering lamp that dimmed just as you passed by. you reached the center of the room, where a dusty table held a cryptic riddle carved into the surface:

"i am light as a feather, yet the strongest man can’t hold me for long. what am i?"

taesan hummed thoughtfully, squinting at the riddle. “breath?”

“that would make sense,” you replied. “let’s check the bookshelf for the clue.”

suddenly, a doll sitting in a rocking chair at the far corner of the room began to move. the chair rocked back and forth slowly, creaking ominously, before the doll’s head snapped toward you. it started crawling across the floor in your direction, its eyes glowing red.

taesan didn’t even glance at the doll. “check behind those books,” he said, pointing to the shelf.

unfazed by the doll’s creepy approach, you crouched near the bookshelf and pulled a small drawer open, revealing the next clue: a piece of paper folded into a tight square.

“found it,” you said, ignoring the doll still crawling toward you.

the actor controlling the doll paused, probably confused as to why neither of you had screamed or even reacted. the cameras zoomed in on your deadpan expressions as you walked right past the doll, not a trace of fear between you.

"mission 3: escape the attic. only the brave can pass through its darkness."

the next clue led you to the attic, a place designed to evoke terror with its low ceilings and oppressive darkness. the air was thick with dust, and the wooden floorboards creaked under every step. the only light source was a faint glow from a single, flickering lightbulb swinging from the ceiling.

“classic horror setup,” taesan remarked as you both headed up the narrow staircase. “i’m guessing the next scare is coming from somewhere up here.”

at the top of the stairs, the attic opened up into a wide, cluttered space filled with old furniture and cobweb-covered boxes. shadows danced along the walls, and faint whispers echoed through the room.

the staff had placed a jump scare near the entrance—a ghastly-looking figure, dressed in tattered robes, lurched out from behind a wardrobe, emitting a guttural growl that echoed through the attic.

you and taesan both blinked, staring at the figure for a beat before continuing toward a large chest at the far end of the room.

“is this where the clue is?” taesan asked, lifting the lid of the chest without hesitation.

inside, you found an old key, which you guessed would unlock the door leading out of the attic. you handed it to taesan as the actor tried one more time to elicit a scare, but again, neither of you reacted.

"mission 4: survive the basement. darkness hides the final clue."

the final mission brought you to the haunted house's basement. the walls were damp, and the faint drip of water echoed through the narrow corridor as you descended the stairs. a musty smell filled the air, and the temperature seemed to drop further with every step.

at the bottom of the stairs, the basement opened up into a large, dark room. the only light source came from a distant, flickering bulb, casting long, eerie shadows across the space. you both spotted a table at the center of the room, where the final clue was likely hidden.

as you approached the table, a figure cloaked in darkness materialized from the shadows, reaching out with bony fingers and whispering, “you’ll never leave this place…”

you glanced at taesan, who didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. “do you want to grab the clue, or should i?” he asked casually.

“i’ve got it,” you replied.

the figure hissed in frustration as you walked past it, retrieving the last clue hidden under the table. the cameras caught your completely nonchalant expressions as the “ghost” tried one last time to block your path. but with the clue in hand, you both strolled toward the exit as though you were on a leisurely walk, completely unfazed by the dark basement and its eerie inhabitants.

when you and taesan finally emerged from the haunted house, the producers and staff looked dumbfounded.

“you’re done? already?” one of the staff members asked, glancing at the stopwatch.

“yep,” taesan replied, barely breaking a sweat. “that was fun.”

the staff exchanged looks of disbelief. “no one’s finished that fast before… and, wait, you didn’t scream?”

you shook your head with a grin. “not once.”

the staff checked the timer again, confirming that you and taesan had completed the entire haunted house in record time. word of your performance spread quickly, and soon, clips of your reactions to the carefully orchestrated scares began to go viral.

the first viral clip showed the ghost butler from the kitchen lunging at you, only to be completely ignored as you calmly searched for the key. the comments were flooded with laughter:

“not (y/n) and taesan acting like the ghost didn’t even exist 💀”

another clip showed the haunted doll crawling toward you in the living room. the camera zoomed in on your completely expressionless faces as you casually walked away from the doll without a second glance.

“this doll really thought it had a chance 😂”

but the fan favorite came from the basement, where the cloaked figure tried to stop you both from leaving. the way you simply walked past it, retrieving the clue without a second thought, had viewers in stitches.

“the scariest thing in that house was (y/n) and taesan’s lack of fear 😭”

as the night went on, you and taesan were declared the winners of the challenge, claiming both the $1,000 prize and the all-paid trip to jeju. it was clear that you two had dominated the challenge—not with screams, but with your unbeatable calmness.

bonus part 1: jaehyun & woonhak

jaehyun and woonhak stood at the entrance of the haunted house, visibly nervous. the producers handed them their first mission card, but both of them were too distracted by the eerie atmosphere and creepy sound effects echoing from inside the house to fully focus on it. "mission 1: find the hidden key in the library—beware of the creatures lurking in the shadows." jaehyun’s hand shook slightly as he held the card. "lurking in the shadows? are you serious? what even lurks in shadows?" woonhak tried to muster a brave face but failed miserably. "i… i think we should just go in, grab the key, and run out. we can’t let (y/n) and taesan beat us." with a deep breath, the two stepped into the house, the door creaking shut behind them. the lights flickered ominously as they ventured deeper into the narrow hallway leading to the library. suddenly, a shadow moved in the corner, and before they could process it, an actor dressed as a decaying zombie lunged out from the darkness with a blood-curdling scream. both jaehyun and woonhak screamed at the top of their lungs, completely abandoning any pretense of bravery. jaehyun’s hands flew up to shield his face, while woonhak practically jumped into his arms, knocking the mission card to the floor. “what was that?!” jaehyun shouted, his voice several octaves higher than usual. “i don’t know! but it was too real!” woonhak yelped, still clinging to jaehyun’s arm as the zombie actor backed off, clearly holding back laughter. they finally made it to the library, where the lights were dim, and the shadows seemed to shift with every step. every creak and moan of the floorboards made them jump. as they searched for the key, a large book fell off the shelf with a loud thud. both jaehyun and woonhak screamed again, bolting for the nearest corner of the room. "stop screaming! you're making it worse!" jaehyun yelled, but it was clear he was just as scared. "you stop screaming!" woonhak shot back, peeking out from behind the bookshelf. "this place is haunted!" they eventually found the key, but not before being startled two more times by actors hiding behind the shelves, each one sending them screaming and tripping over themselves as they tried to flee the room. the camera caught every moment of their terror, from jaehyun almost dropping the key in a panic to woonhak swearing he saw something move in the shadows every few seconds.

bonus part 2: jake & sunghoon

meanwhile, jake and sunghoon were facing their own horrors in a different part of the house. they stood at the entrance to the attic, visibly trembling as they read their mission card: "mission 3: escape the attic by finding the hidden switch—but be careful not to wake the spirits." jake gulped, glancing at the narrow staircase leading up to the attic. "why does it have to be the attic? the scariest stuff always happens in attics." sunghoon didn’t look any better. “i’m not ready for this… can’t we just pretend we finished?” “nope,” jake sighed. “we gotta do this. maybe it won’t be that bad.” with a shaky nod, they made their way up the creaky staircase. every step seemed to echo louder than the last, and the farther they climbed, the more claustrophobic the space felt. the air was thick and musty, and the flickering light at the top of the stairs wasn’t doing much to calm their nerves. suddenly, a loud bang echoed from the attic. both jake and sunghoon froze, staring up at the dark doorway ahead of them. “what was that?” sunghoon whispered, his voice barely audible. “i don’t know,” jake replied, inching closer to the doorway. “but whatever it is, i’m not going first.” “no way am i going first!” they both hesitated for a few seconds, neither wanting to take the lead. eventually, jake took a deep breath and stepped into the attic, with sunghoon close behind. the attic was dark, filled with old, broken furniture and scattered debris. it smelled like something had been rotting up there for years. as they moved deeper into the room, a figure slowly emerged from behind a stack of boxes. it was dressed in a long, tattered cloak with glowing eyes, moving toward them with a low, guttural moan. jake’s eyes went wide, and before the actor could get close, he screamed, grabbing sunghoon by the arm and pulling him toward the far side of the room. “nope! nope! nope!” jake yelled as they ran straight into a wall, momentarily lost in the darkness. sunghoon screamed along with him, completely forgetting about the mission. “why did we agree to this?!” as they scrambled to find the hidden switch, the actor continued creeping toward them, dragging its feet across the floor. every time they turned around, the figure seemed to be just a little bit closer. “i swear it’s moving faster than it looks!” sunghoon cried out, frantically searching the walls for the switch. “why did they make it so dark in here?!” finally, after what felt like an eternity of panic and screaming, jake found the switch hidden behind a loose panel in the wall. he flipped it with trembling hands, and the door to the attic creaked open. “go! run!” jake shouted, pushing sunghoon through the door. they practically fell down the stairs in their rush to escape, their hearts pounding in their chests. even after they made it out of the attic, they were both too scared to look back. “i think i’m traumatized,” sunghoon panted, leaning against the wall as they caught their breath. “i’m never going in an attic again.” “same,” jake agreed, still shaking. “this was the worst decision ever.” the cameras captured every second of their panic, from the moment they first saw the ghostly figure to their frantic escape down the stairs. fans would later dub it “the most relatable haunted house experience ever.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ taglist: @lynnimini

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments are appreciated! ✧ !nanamlist

[kingkatsuki]

ok but if you’re up for it, can we pls talk abt tokoyami with a corruption kink? i’ve definitely touched on it before, but here’s today’s brainrot.

fumi loves seeing you in pastels and soft tones. in clothes that make you look innocent and sometimes modest. there’s just something about seeing you look so sweet that makes his blood run hot. he wants to play with that, taint it, watch it fall away.

depending on the context, i could see him enjoying it when you play dumb or like you’re so clueless and naive. there’s an appeal to both corrupting someone that’s innocent into doing gross things for him, and slowly getting someone with perceived innocence to open up and reveal how perverse and corrupted they already are. it’s then his priority to push that as much as possible (with consent obv).

you mention something that you might like or whatever and he coaxes you to talking about it in detail while planning in his head how he’s going to make it happen. you can blame dark shadow on that imo…. dark shadow drops little thoughts in his head all the time of “what if…” whenever you’re around. sometimes fumi’s face gets hot and flushed out of nowhere because of it, and he’s so thankful you can’t tell as long as he keeps his cool.

sigh. tokoyami is lovely.

I think it’s about the thrill of the chase for him, because Tokoyami has always been a patient man. And he’d wait more than a lifetime for you.

You’re such a pretty thing, far nicer than him. Far too good for him. So of course it’s not his fault when he gets a little carried away— telling you how pretty you’d look sprawled out beneath him while his fingers tease your clit. Whether you’d be able to take two of his fingers or if he’d have to stretch you out first, if you’d be good and take them for him.

It’s a sick and twisted game for him, corrupting something far prettier than him. Something that has him fucking into his fist at night as he pictures breaching your tight heat for the first time—

So he’s full of lingering touches and choice words, the kind that ruminate in your pretty little head whenever you try to fall asleep at night beneath your thick pink comforter and surrounded by your plush toys. Words that cause a heat to ferment between your thighs, soaking your panties and tainting your mind before Tokoyami has even had a chance to touch you.

And he knows it— lifting your hand to press a soft, sensual kiss to your palm as he smells the remnants of your slick against those pretty painted fingers. Because no amount of those sickly sweet body wash and lotions could ever wash away the saccharine scent of sheer depravity. Groaning deep in his chest as he pictures them pressed against your puffy clit as you think about all the sick, nasty things he wants to do to you— and he will do them.

It’s cute that you still try to act so innocent around him, even though he knows you’re anything but now. Tarred with the sick depravity that runs deep inside him, that’s threatening to bubble over and expose you for the dirty little girl you really are. The nasty slut that’s alrady caged inside you and is waiting to be set free— and just like a bird, he’ll let you soar.

“Aren’t you going to tell me how your night was, sweetheart?” He smiles so kindly, but he already knows the answer from how your cheeks flush and your thighs instinctively clench together, “You went to bed so early—“

He wants to hear you say it, wants those disgusting words to sound on the tip of your tongue. The depravity almost sounding sweet when you say it, filled with innocence and sincerity. How wet you were, how ruined m your cute panties were and how many times— Tokoyami wants to hear how many times you came touching yourself to the thought of him, because he’ll make you cum twice as many when you finally deserve his cock.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 7/23/24

i woke up at ass o'clock monday morning to find BOTH of my cats sleeping on the bed with me :') temporary peace and love on planet niceys

also read a book where my takeaway was that there are SO many opportunities in the world for evil engineering but not nearly enough for evil puzzle games

listening

my sister sent me ONE instagram reel/screencap of a tiktok and ive been muttering "emergency! emergency! paging DOCTOR BEAT!" under my breath for the past three days. alarmingly catchy remix of this gloria estefan song. this specific video below is pretty close but there are approximately eight zillion versions

-

reading

Dark Wire by Joseph Cox (photo from here, description from the publisher's site).

The inside story of the largest law-enforcement sting operation ever, in which the FBI made its own tech start-up to wiretap the world, shows how cunning both the authorities and drug traffickers have become, with privacy implications for everyone. In 2018, a powerful app for secure communications called Anom took root among organized criminals. They believed Anom allowed them to conduct business in the shadows. Except for one thing: it was secretly run by the FBI.    Backdoor access to Anom and a series of related investigations granted American, Australian, and European authorities a front-row seat to the underworld. Tens of thousands of criminals worldwide appeared in full view of the same agents they were trying to evade. International smugglers. Money launderers. Hitmen. A sprawling global economy as efficient and interconnected as the legal one. Officers watched drug shipments and murder plots unfold, making arrests without blowing their cover. But, as the FBI started to lose control of Anom, did the agency go too far?   A painstakingly investigated exposé, Dark Wire reveals the true scale and stakes of this unprecedented operation through the agents and crooks who were there. This fly-on-the-wall thriller is a caper for our modern world, where no one can be sure who is listening in. 

i really liked this one! cox did a really good job of slowly unfurling the extremely technical details as they became relevant, instead of one horrible infodump near the beginning, and has a real gift for humanizing little anecdotes that illustrate the concept. he's also dryly funny in a very british way, eg the transition between one paragraph describing a very talented olive oil salesman and his lifestyle to how that olive oil processing covered up drug labs with the sentence "But Catanzariti didn't stay with olives; he pivoted instead to methamphetamine." i loooooove reading about how the drug trade gets around customs. i love edge cases and figuring out why things fail. i truly think some of the finest materials engineers of our time are out there trying to figure out how to get cocaine into australia.

this is deeply reported in a way that's very different from a lot of popsci and pop-history books that annoy me: this is NOT a book where it feels like the author is simply padding out a wikipedia page, supplemented with articles he's already written. he's been on this beat since 2016 and it shows: he has quotes from hundreds of people on many sides of the drug war. something i also appreciate is that cox is not automatically, rabidly pro-cop; he does not gloss over the very real tortures and kidnappings and all the other nasty realities of the global drug trade, and frequently shows how much overreach and entrapment took place during this whole endeavor. i particularly liked a chapter where he flipped back and forth from various law enforcement officials assuring him they of course complied with all relevant privacy laws and blacklisted anyone using it for simple secure communications, and lawyers telling cox "no the cops very much did spy on my privileged communication with my clients and i know this because these texts came up in court". also gratifying to read about some cases overturned or thrown out, in the odd case a judge decided it looked too much like entrapment.

i feel like i devoured this book SO fast but it's a solid 352 pages in hardcover. i also had to wait a good two months on the libby holds lists so there is strong interest in this book! good for cox!

how did i find this book: it's austin underscore walker's fault. they used to be coworkers at vice and cox and three others broke off last year to found 404 Media, which has had an absolutely crazy amount of real-world impact for the size (again! four people!) and how long they've been around. rip vice. wish u did better by your people.

-

watching

watched Hercules (1997, dir. Clements & Musker) with my bestie's five year old. i did not grow up with disney movies and don't really have a nostalgic affinity for them but this shit holds up! i like how meg has the silhouette of a greek vase

-

playing

powerwash simulator has a new free DLC out! we get to go to the aquarium and wash some exhibits and wash the research submarine!!! VERY soothing. took me a good solid two hour podcast episode to clean the exhibits.

the temporary summer event in genshin impact is very darling this year-- there are big indie game vibes and unlocking every chest is a little more complicated or has a little bit more story attached than usual. very excited to see if this continues with the next big update that introduces a whole new land.

i also like that they've picked An Art Style to work with-- everything is very toy-like or origami. not that genshin doesn't have a distinct art style, but playing around with something less realistic is fun!

-

making

look im going to have to add a cross stitch update to the morning reblog. the lighting in here is simply Not Good Enough

[st0rmyskies]

HI HELLO Any directors commentary for Sky specifically in The Brave? Blorbo

HELL YEAH I LOVE THAT SLEEPY LITTLE BASTARD

When I started writing the HSH series, I didn't know a damn thing about Sky. I had no idea how to write him beyond his tendency to sleep. One of my friends mentioned that he was a knight, which I had no idea of at the time, and thus his unlikely association with Warriors and Wild was born.

In The Brave, Time picks Sky's brain a bit about his relationship with one of the princesses, and we already know that Sky is head-over-heels for Sun from previous mentions of her. They met while he was in the Guard--although Sky fails to mention in his stammering explanation that Sun was a Guard member, herself, which is a whole nother bit of narrative to address--and Sky completely writes off his own charm and likeability by saying that he 'must be lucky.'

Time continues to press the line of conversation along a vein that makes Sky uncomfortable:

“I’ve always found some of the rules of the Royal Guard to be a bit antiquated,” [Time] spoke as he crossed his study toward the window. Sky relaxed somewhat without Time’s eye on him. “The rule of discharge from the Guard for fraternization or initiating a relationship with one of the royal family dates back centuries, to a time of arranged marriages.” Sky’s palms were beginning to sweat. “That was also well before the Guard was expanded and divided into different sections, including the Airborne Unit.” Time parted the curtains to look out toward the horizon where Hyrule Castle was silhouetted against the afternoon sky. He didn’t need to be looking directly at Sky to keep him pinned to the spot. “They’ve become a bit more lenient over time, though, and I believe that rule is now limited to those Guard members who are a part of the royal family’s close personal detail[...] Members of the Loftwings don’t fit that description, do they.”

Someday, by the end of the story, one might read their exchange over again and realize that Time was going for a different angle than Sky (reasonably) took all this from, and that the man is truly abysmal at communication.

My favorite part of Sky's by far, and probably my favorite part in the entire Townhouse series, is the punch heard round the world:

Time didn’t get the chance to look up before a heavy fist connected with his jaw. The hit knocked him senseless for a few terrifying seconds. He sprawled on his back on the porch as shouting erupted from inside the house, and he lifted his arms to protect his face from a second and third strike. [...] “Not here,” Warriors repeated, hissing through his teeth. His voice was farther away now as he stumbled back across the porch.  Disoriented, Time opened his eye to see that Legend stood over him protectively, that Warriors still held his assailant by the arms— And that Sky probably would have kept going if his friends hadn’t intervened. 

It's the first time I got to write HSH Sky being frightening (LMTCOY moments concerning Volga aside), and boy was it worth it. The fact that sweet-natured Sky felt enough anger to spit at Time will forever make me squeal.

Sky gets to flex some of his skills on the road to Vah Naboris alongside the other guard boys, and then again during the Hylian Waltz scene at the gala where he proves to be one of the more decisive and deadly of the boys. Now that I've played Skyward Sword (more than once, I really do love it), I just knew that Sky needed to be the one to do 'Impa' in.

And she lurched with a grunt, dropping her weapons as the glint of metal burst through her chest from behind. The sword was much stockier than the ceremonial sabres that the honor guard carried, its blade straight and true, and the cross-guard flared out like wings at the base of its purple hilt. It protected Sky’s white gloves from the blood that poured down the steel as Impa’s disguise started to melt away. The traditional grays and blues of her Sheikah suit melted to reveal the bright crimson and black, the uniform of those worshippers of the Calamity: the Yiga. Sky jerked his sword out of the imposter’s chest and let her crumple to the floor. “How late am I now?” he sneered, flicking blood off of the end of his sword.

Sky has plenty more moments to shine in the climax, too. From current draft iterations...

“Sky!!” Hyrule glanced up from where he worked with the Zora hooking up monitors and getting a second catheter in place. Sun stood just behind the ambulance, one hand on the door and the other gripping Sky's jacket. “You are coming!” she shouted at him, her voice just on the edge of panic.  “Sunny,” Sky’s voice was soft as he gently unwound her fingers from his lapel, “I have to stay here.” “You have to come!!” she cried, “What will I–” “I’m sorry.” Once he was able to coax her hand into his, he held it between his gloved hands. “I might not be in the Guard anymore, but I still have a job to do.” “So I’ll go with–” “You need to go with your sister.” Sky nodded toward the back of the ambulance. “We don’t know what’s about to happen. The two of you need to get out of here, get as far away as you can. Where you’ll be safe.” “Promise me you’ll be okay.” Sun took a step toward him, gripping Sky’s face in her hands, her voice wet. “Promise me.” Sky took her wrists, easing her hands down and away from his face.  And before she could open her mouth to argue, Sky leaned in to kiss her, impropriety be damned.  "... I'll see you when it's all over, sunshine."

To say nothing of when the fight takes to the sky over Castle Town.

[silverdune]

the purgatory papers | introduction: part one

"i’m so sorry, but, you can’t retire. not yet. not right now."

minors dni. ageless blogs dni. blank blogs dni. you'll be blocked. main masterlist character(s): gn!reader, jeong yunho tags: explicit language, banter, reader is tired, yunho's kind of a little shit, loose interpretations of heaven, hell and purgatory word count: 2.1k summary: you, an elder of purgatory, are ready to retire your position as the manifestation of a newspaper columnist, someone who got the scoop on feuds between the angels and devils of heaven and hell. however, when you go to yunho - the leader of purgatory - to explain this, he reveals he has another job for you, and a very important one at that..

a/n: so this is mainly to hold myself accountable for posting a masterlist in the first place. i know it's been two months but tbh i had next to no motivation; please enjoy anyways;

You need a break from all of this.

For the last two millennia, you had been at the forefront of capturing every feud that has happened between the angels and devils of heaven and hell, and now you’ve decided that you’ve just about had enough of all of it.

You think with such derision, and yet, it was never a terrible job, just a tedious one. Of course, there was something innately thrilling about learning of all the gossip that had cooked up between the two worlds you in purgatory had been sandwiched between, but as an elder now, it’s about time you give it up.

Elder is only a nominative term, for no one upstairs in heaven, hell or purgatory ever aged. A symbol of status above anything else, something to resemble a sort of hierarchy among the people who roamed the amorphous sectors of the world upstairs.

Ever since you had become an apprentice in purgatory, you had been working to take over from the last elder who had retired their position of newspaper columnist. How it worked was very simple: if there was any news of a potential feud brewing between an angel and devil, a dweller of purgatory would be sent down to the mortal world to.. manifest as it were. In that, sporting a glamour fashioned out of the very idea of a journalist. Someone whom a regular person in the mortal world would bypass for fear of being cornered for an interview or caught on their accomplice’s camera.

This had been your job for a while, under the wing of your no-nonsense, lukewarm-blooded boss, Jeong Yunho.

But as you reminisce on your life manifesting as a being most wouldn’t spit on in a house fire, you decide that the time is nigh to tell your boss you wish to retire.

As you descend the sprawling corridors to his understated office, you flick through a heavy-loaded notebook tucked in the crook of your right elbow. Inside are all the details of every past feud you’ve ever reported on, and it brings a flash of the weakest smile to your lips as you remember all the trials and tribulations you went through to get such information. No angel or devil really ever thanked you for it. You suppose it was hard luck on their part.

Once you reach the door to Yunho’s office, you knock three times, muscles taut at the broad but hollow sound that reverberates after each strike.

From the other side of what feels like a concrete door, Yunho’s voice rings loud and clear. “Enter.”

You push open the door with little effort and say nothing as you step into his office. Yunho’s eyes are downturned, far more interested in the paperwork before him than he is in engaging in conversation. That is until he finally looks up and sees you.

“Ah. N. I was hoping you’d stop by.”

“Oh?” you ask, airily. “Nothing bad I hope.” You take a seat on the chair opposite his and place your notebook on the desk. Lighter than most of the volumes Yunho keeps stashed away in his filing cabinets, but still hefty enough to cause a thud when set down.

“No, n- well- depends on how you define that term.”

You cock a brow and fold your arms. “I’m suspicious,” you quip. You enjoy your little back and forths with your boss. Around the eyes of the many members of purgatory you kept it strictly professional, but you’d been under Yunho’s wing enough time for him to excuse a tiny bit of banter in his office.

He scoffs a laugh that doesn’t reach his lungs before bringing out a piece of paper from beneath the wad of many. “I’ve got a job for you,” he announces flippantly. You blink, then chew the insides of your lip. No, for the love of-

Then, Yunho looks you directly in the eyes, expecting your eagerness to take another job.

You reward him with an awkwardly vacant stare.

“N,” he prompts, thinking he needs to coax you back to the room, “got another job.” He waves the paper around then puts it on top of your notebook.

“Ha..” You scratch your forehead, unable to stifle a smile and a hapless chuckle at the sight of a new task. “Y’see, um..” Trapping your tongue between your lips, you attempt to let him down gently.

Yunho clasps his hands together on the desk and frowns, puzzled. He then drops all pretence and states bluntly, “N, I hate to break it to you, but this is important.”

The exit signs disappear until you click your spine back into place and look him dead in the eyes. “There’s a reason I came to see you, actually, Yunho, and it’s um..” He hardens his gaze, a rare sight in your three millennia under his wing. You fall back in your chair and take a deep breath. “Yunho, I’ve come to tell you that I wish to retire.”

Yunho’s eyes widen, his expression changing from sharp to putty in seconds. An even rarer sight. “Wh-What?”

A genuine loss for words. So rare you never sought to bring it out of him.

You stare at one another for a while, not a single glance spared to the paperwork on the desk.

Once Yunho finally finds his resolve, he still has to repeat the word a few times so it sounds remotely real. “R-Retire? Retire? You actually want to.. retire?”

“Retire. Yes,” you say, concretely.

Yunho doesn’t miss a beat. He leans across the desk, his features shifting again, this time to profound regret. All of this is so new to you. You wish cameras worked upstairs.

“N.. I’m so sorry, but, you can’t retire. Not yet. Not right now.”

His voice is low and filled with.. guilt. Honest to God guilt.

“What do you mean?” Your head is spinning with thoughts. You look down at the paperwork Yunho had presented to you earlier and actually study it this time.

You don’t have to study long, though, for Yunho fills in the blanks running rampant in your mind.

“This job.. It’s a big one, the biggest yet, in fact.” You glance up, and he meets your eyes. There’s an emotion in there you can’t quite decipher, but it’s yet another one he’s never openly expressed before now. The lukewarm leader of purgatory had no room for strong emotions. “It’s huge because.. I’m not the one asking after you.”

You straighten up in your seat. Your face stiffens. You manage to blurt out a quiet, “Who?”

“Hell’s overseer. The High Devil. Hongjoong.”

You fall back in your seat after a few seconds. So that’s why Yunho has the perpetual look of fear and dread on his face.

“Well.. shit,” is all you can murmur. Never before has a job come through him. You’ve never even met the man, why would he want your assistance after all this time?

You ask Yunho this very question and he exhales with full dramatic effect. “This feud’s gotten under his skin a fair bit. And in the metrics of hell, a fair bit means his resolve is ash on the floor.”

Folding your arms, you chew on your tongue for a while, thinking of a response to what feels like the ultimate task. The final boss, as a percentage of mortals have been historically known to say.

For some reason you can’t explain, you feel nothing but a dormant sense of exasperation. You had your whole retirement figured out and now there’s a huge, High Devil-shaped wrench in your plans.

You wonder if you’d get away with lying about already having retired. It’s not like you in the slightest but you’ve been doing this for far too long, Yunho would understand, wouldn’t he?

His downturned smile and heavy, fixated stare say otherwise. You frown.

“Guess I got no choice, huh?”

Yunho rolls his eyes and sits back in his own chair. “If I figured you had a choice, I would actually be encouraging you to retire.”

“Gee, I’m so thankful,” you reply with half-hearted sarcasm.

Your boss looks you in the eyes, and it causes you to swallow. He leans back over the table, and it makes the single light fixture above your heads seem dimmer than it was a second ago. “N, I don’t present this news with any kind of joy or malice. I know I may have seemed surprised-” - your brows flick up; seemed is quite the understatement - “but in truth, it doesn’t come as a surprise now that I’ve had some time to think about it. I remember what your mood was like at the end of the last job; I figured if you weren’t going to retire then, you would definitely retire soon.”

It’s true. During your last job, you almost tossed all the information into a word salad. You were that disillusioned from the tedium of it all.

He continues, “But considering this feud is so serious, I told Hongjoong that I would give you the job, but made him promise that he wouldn’t ask after you again, hinting that I thought you might quit for good.”

You shift in your seat at that revelation. The idea that the two of them had a conversation that lasted longer than just a couple of words is astounding to you.

Eyeing the paperwork in front of you, you notice that it’s quite barren for a task sheet. It describes the absolute basics, and the only names on there are yours and Hongjoong’s.

“So, I assume he’s not feuding with himself.”

Yunho senses your confusion. “It’s an angel and devil, no doubt, but he didn’t want to write it down on the sheet.. He actually wants to discuss it with you in person.”

You glance up, eyes wide and completely hollow. “In.. In person?”

“Unprecedented, I know. Typically I wouldn’t go for it, but Hongjoong was adamant that he wanted to discuss this in person, so, there you go.”

No other explanation given. It feels like your brain is bleeding out of your ears. “Is.. Is that it?”

“Yep. That’s it.”

His curt reply is equal parts infuriating and daunting. There are so many questions you want to ask, but you realise you’ll have to leave them all for Hell’s overseer.

One question floats to the front, however. “So, when will I be paying Old Horns a visit?”

Yunho spares you a cursory glance but says nothing on your discreet nickname for Hongjoong, except a warning look that says, don’t let him catch you calling him that. “Tomorrow, mid-afternoon. Make it quick, then make yourself scarce. The devils will be sniffing around wondering what you’re doing.”

“But I don’t even know which devil I’m looking out for! Or angel, for that matter.”

“It’s best if you don’t make a scene of yourself at all. Give the gatewatchers this,” he fashions a card out of thin air and passes it to you, “and tell them you have express permission to visit the High Devil on urgent business.”

You inspect the red card and read the words scribbled on the front.

Issued by the High Devil. Allowance for one visit. No transfers. Terms and exclusions may apply.

“He’s a real catch, ain’t he?” you jest, earning an irreverent scoff from the man opposite. You slip it into your inside jacket pocket then fold the piece of paper. “I’ll make sure I’m not late.”

“Good- oh! By the way, you’ll have company.”

Yunho says this as your part way through standing up, believing the card to be your exit from this meeting. Knees awkwardly bent in place, you process Yunho’s words then slump back down on the seat. “Company?” you utter, disgruntled.

“Company,” he smiles dryly. “I thought it would be a good idea to start training an apprentice in the process of you getting the scoop on this feud, so, you’ll have an ex-spectre joining you.”

Ex-spectre? Odd, you think; spectres are newbies to hell who have been there less than a millennia. Your brows furrow, bewilderment sweeping your features as a million more questions flood your mind.“He’ll be here tomorrow, you can meet him after you’ve spoken with Hongjoong.”

“Right.. Am I not allowed to know this person’s name, since, y’know, I guess I’ve been swept into babysitting now.”

Yunho glares at you. “His name is Choi Jongho. He left Hell after six centuries. I’m sure he’ll explain more once you meet him.”

Ah. That explains a lot.

“I see.. So-”

“Tomorrow, N,” Yunho declares in his usual business-like demeanour. You straighten up; no messing with him when he uses that tone.

With a new, unwitting obligation to carry out another task on your back, you pick up your notebook and bid your boss a short goodbye before leaving his office when he says nothing in return.

Your spine locks against the door as you sit with your life for the next however many weeks.

One thing you know for certain: you are not looking forward to this meeting.

× silverdune (ave). do not repost. ×

[alisonfelixwrites]

pierced (*) // informed consent one shot (1)

!! this series was originally harry styles fanfiction, i edited it and changed his last name :)

Description: a series of one shots following 'informed consent: short story' -- in which mia and harry continue to explore their relationship and mia comes up with the bold idea to get piercings together

Word count: 11,533

Content: fluff!!!! smut: grinding, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, fingering

informed consent masterlist

general masterlist

//

Mia was staring at Harry.

She had been for a long time, and by the small smile on Harry’s lips, she felt like he knew she was staring at him.

Mia sat at her usual spot in the library, her legs pulled up to her chest to make herself comfortable as she tugged at the sleeves of a large jumper – one she borrowed from Harry after making her way to campus and realizing it was much colder than she anticipated. She had called Harry on the way over and he gladly pulled something out of his closet for her to wear.

Harry wasn’t sure how to admit to Mia how sexy she looked in his clothes. She was basically swimming in his jumper, the sleeves already rolled up but still making her hands look like little paws, and the neckline revealed her own, thinner jumper she wore underneath.

He wasn’t sure how to bring that across to her, because what he really wanted to say was that he wanted to fuck her into oblivion as she wore that sweater. 

And obviously, he couldn’t use those words without giving Mia a stroke, so he kept his mouth shut.

Mia was more subtle in her ways of admiring Harry. She did so by staring at him for what felt like hours. Without blinking. Without realizing time moved by. Without remembering how to breathe.

He sat opposite her today, their books and notes sprawled out on the table they had to themselves. He leaned his elbow on the table, his jaw on his hand as he stared at his notes with a furrowed brow, flipping a pencil around between his other fingers.

Bony, long fingers.

Mia was near drooling. 

He wore his regular beanie to keep his wispy hair away from his face, to keep himself focussed while studying. He wore a similar jumper to hers, and Mia suspected that Harry liked for them to match. The pencil between his fingers had been swapped after he destroyed the pen he used earlier, leaking ink all over the fingers of his writing hand.

It had smudges now, and somehow Mia found that even sexier. There were some remains of chipped polish on his nails – something he insisted Niall did to him when drunk but Mia felt like he was just too shy to admit that he liked painting his nails – and there was the birthmark on his wrist. 

She loved that detail of him. She loved him.

“Mia.” Harry murmured softly and she snapped out of her thoughts, lifting her rounded eyes, “Hm?”

Harry shot her a small smile, “You’re staring.”

It was the fourth time in a little over an hour, that he called her out for it. Mia nibbled on her lip and blushed, nodding to herself, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He whispered and Mia dropped her pen while letting out a sigh, “I’ve been studying really good for the past few hours, H.”

He nodded with an amused smile, “I know.”

Mia pouted at him, “Then why can’t we take a break?”

Harry chuckled and leaned over the table, staring at Mia’s notes in front of her. He had to tear his eyes away from her pouty face before he devoured her right here. Her hair was in a braid today, but more messy then usual. She was fresh-faced for their day of studying in the library and Harry was surprised how Mia was the bad student today. For once.

Usually it was him being distracted by her and her having to motivate him with little kisses to keep going. But Mia had a hard time today. She hadn’t seen Harry in two days and she had been so bubbly and excited since last night that she hardly slept.

He offered her a gentle smile and when Mia felt like his hands were in reach, she stretched hers out to feel his fingers. She didn’t care if she got ink smudges on them, she just wanted to feel his warmth. Harry leaned over the table further, “Sweetheart,” he crooned, “we’ve only been studying for less than two hours. I thought you said you wanted no breaks until lunch?”

“But I missed you.” She whispered, a small flush rising up her cheeks. In the weeks of her and Harry dating, she tried to get more comfortable with voicing her feelings. Like he was. Harry’s lips curled up into a pleasant smile and he gently squeezed her hands, “I missed you too, my love.”

“Then can I maybe get a kiss?” She softly spoke.

“Will that make you continue studying?”

Mia eagerly nodded and Harry sighed, giving in. He made it seem like it was a task, just to tease her, but by the time he reached, his hands hungrily grabbed at the sides of her face to tilt her head back.

He stood over her chair as she held onto his elbows, while he pressed his lips against hers. She tasted like her morning coffee from a short moment ago and he sighed out through his nose, kissing her firmly.

Harry’s friends had insisted on a ‘guy’s weekend’, which meant he had only seen Mia briefly on Friday night before being stuck with his mates on Saturday and Sunday. He had catching up to do with his studying and was still fighting off a hangover he felt like could take weeks to disappear, but Mia just made everything better.

He had been on his phone the entire weekend, calling her every chance he could to hear her sleepy voice late at night. They spoke until she fell asleep and he desperately tried to wake her for a bit, needing to hear her voice again. And then he’d leave her voice notes which she’d listen to in the morning.

Harry’s friends had branded them as clingy. It wasn’t new, it was also what Hazel called them and Harry couldn’t really disagree. He was always in arm’s reach from Mia, wanting to constantly touch her.

But Harry’s friends had missed him, and he couldn’t deny he had been spending a lot of time with his girlfriend. Harry and Mia tried to keep their private time, private. She hadn’t been around his friends all too much and Harry knew it wasn’t because she didn’t like them, but crowds still caused her anxiety to spike even if it were people she knew.

Mia blossomed when it was just the two of them. She got cheeky and teasing, crawling on top of him and initiating kisses until Harry felt floaty and breathless. 

It had been a couple of weeks since Harry and Mia touched each other for the first time, divulging in a physical lust that lead them to her bed with his head between her legs and her name shakily trembling from his lips as his eyes rolled back.

Things hadn’t gotten easier for Harry. If anything, he couldn’t get the image out of his head of a writing Mia with her doe eyes full of hunger and her lips open as they smeared against his. He couldn’t stop thinking of the way her body moved on top of him, grinding him to an orgasm.

They had done it twice more since then, usually in the same way. In her bed, Harry on top and kissing her until they somehow slipped of a few pieces of clothing. Harry knew Mia was shy to touch him, but her eyes had been curious the first time he pulled his prick out to jerk off after making her finish on his tongue.

Mia had stared intently at how his fist wrapped around his shaft, veiny and red and the head enlarged and weeping precum that streaked over her tummy. And then she slowly dragged her eyes up his bare chest until reaching his eyes, and Harry’s face screwed up into pleasure before he begged her to let him cum – and she did. She gave him the permission and her words were hardly out before he doubled over with a groan and a squeeze to her hip, releasing on her soft skin.

Mia had learned that Harry had a thing with that. Asking her if he could finish. As if he needed her permission to do so, as if it turned him on to have her take control. It was thrilling but also scary, because Mia wasn’t sure if she’d ever be ready for that. After doing stuff three times, she had grown slightly comfortable with Harry taking on that role. It had turned a little predictable, but Mia liked that.

Structure.

Hazel called her a control freak over it, but used the word perfectionist to bring the message across a little gentler. 

“No, one more.” Mia pouted against Harry’s lips as he pulled back, her fingers tugging on the sleeve of his jumper and he chuckled, bumping their noses together, “One more,” he whispered, “and then we continued.”

“Since when are you such a serious student?” Mia scoffed slightly in fake frustration and Harry’s dimples popped in an amused smile, shaking his head lightly, “I’ve corrupted you.” He whispered, kissing her again.

Mia tried to push herself off of the chair to kiss him deeper but Harry pulled back in time before they got out of hand, leaving Mia with a pouty face that he could feel pulling on his heartstrings.

It didn’t help that she was studying for her least favourite subject – data analysis – and that she had sort of made up her mind to switch to something else after Christmas exams. One semester into doing something she didn’t like, felt like enough.

She felt like she had settled on anthropology, but was continuously going back and forth without being able to make up her mind. It didn’t help that she couldn’t ask her parents for advice, because she had yet to tell them.

She had a little call with them over the weekend – probably another reason why she felt like she needed Harry so much right now – and it just didn’t come up. In the sense that Mia actively avoided talking about it.

She had admitted softly that she had stopped the therapy sessions and they had reprimanded her enough for that, she didn’t want to add fuel to an already raging fire. One disappointment at the time, she felt. Of course, her father continued comparing her academic career to her brother’s, who passed every exam with flying colours. 

Aden was in business school more up north and Mia had to admit she hadn’t heard of him in months. She didn’t miss him.

“Mia.” Harry sighed, and she lifted her gaze again to see him shooting her a stern look, “You have to study. You’ll be disappointed in yourself if you don’t finish that chapter before lunch.”

She sighed and tucked her knees up a little higher, getting comfortable on the wooden chair she somehow fit on while folding herself in half. Her fingers tucked her loose hair behind her ears and she clicked her pen, “It’s so boring.”

“I know. But you’re a good girl and if you want to keep being a good girl, you’ll do as I ask you to.” Harr murmured. A tingle shot up Mia’s spine and it didn’t go unnoticed by Harry. He had noticed it before, how Mia just loved praise. In any sense of the word. He used it in sexual moments, but also in loving moments, and also in teasing moments – like right now.

She blushed a little, remembering how he went on and on about how good of a girl she was last weekend with her thighs split over him and his hands on her ass as she sat on top of him in a little thong that made him moan out with screwed-shut eyes the first second he laid eyes on it.

Mia had flushed a furious shade of red after putting on the delicate little piece of lingerie. She had taken Hazel’s advice and shopped for some pretty stuff to surprise Harry, but also to make herself feel sexier and more confident.

Harry couldn’t help but wonder at all times what she was wearing underneath her clothes. She wore tight leggings today to be comfortable at the library when studying, with her black boots and his jumper covering her up.

“Eyes on the notes, Mia.” Harry tutted her and she exhaled a trembling breath with soft pink cheeks while nodding, “Okay.”

He nodded with a smile and then turned his attention back to his own notes, trying not to be too distracted by her heavenly floral scent hanging around her. Harry couldn’t wait to have her smell all over his jumper. He was sure he’d sleep with it.

Mia and Harry refrained from sleeping together during the week, but over the past few weekends they had spent nights in her bed most often. On the nights that they didn’t get lost in each other’s bodies, they watched movies on her computer while cuddling up, or they stayed up and read their books or spoke about philosophy until dozing off to sleep.

Harry clung to her as Mia easily adapted to whatever position Harry pulled her in. She was the easiest sleeper he had ever come across, hardly moving throughout the night and she slept through all of his accidental kicks or elbows to the ribs or snores he exhaled into her neck.

Mia and Harry held true to their words, studying until lunch came around. Mia’s growling stomach indicated that it was noon, and Harry pushed his stuff together while letting out a sigh, then stretching his arms up in a yawn before relaxing his shoulders.

Mia’s eyes were back on him, as intently as ever as he glanced at her again. Harry wasn’t someone who got shy or blushy a lot, but Mia’s intense gaze could turn his cheeks pink easily. He chuckled a little, “What?”

She was back to staring at him with that wonder in her eyes, like he was the only thing she’d ever seen. Mia bit her lip and shrugged, “Nothing, I just love you.”

“Mia,” Harry softly cooed, “you absolute angel.” He got up to his feet, chair scraping back on the hardwood floors of the library. The winter sun shone through Mia’s favourite window in her favourite space, lighting up Harry in a soft hue as he walked over to her and cupped her cheeks again like he did before, tilting her head back, “I love you too.”

They kissed again, a few loving little doting kisses on waiting lips before pulling back when Mia’s stomach growled again. 

“Let’s get some food into you, for an entire afternoon of productive studying.” Harry smirked as he pulled her up. Mia whined quietly, trying not to disturb any other students who were hidden behind the shelves of books surrounding their table in the library. Mia and Harry gathered their stuff and pushed their notes together to reserve their seats, before they put on their thick coats and exited the building.

Their hands were bundled together into Harry’s coat pocket and Mia tiredly leaned into his arm a little while making their way to the cafeteria on campus.

Harry waddled behind her in the line for food, suggesting that Mia took the warm soup and a bagel as he went for a club sandwich and planned on finishing off whatever soup Mia couldn’t finish. They had a thing for sharing some of their food ever since their first date. It just brought a sense of connection and comfort to eat half their food and switch plates. 

They sat down at one of the tables in the middle, slipping in at a table where Harry recognized a few people from. They left room in between to have a bit of privacy, but Mia found herself glad to not have her lunches by herself anymore. If anything, she sought company during lunch.

She asked Hazel for her schedule or tried to have lunch at home when she had a skip in her classes. Or she texted Harry and they met up.

Sometimes, they studied at his dorm or Harry came over to the apartment and him, Hazel and her formed a little study club around the kitchen table. 

All that they knew was that the past two weeks, classes had ended and it was full time study mode right about now. Exams started in a week and finished right before Christmas. Mia felt like she was somehow a little bit on schedule, but was still tremendously freaked out by all the things she had yet to do.

Harry, on the other hand, felt prepared as ever. He had never studied this much, had never felt so motivated, had never felt so inspired. All because of his Mia.

“Is it good?” Harry asked while chewing his food. Mia winced a little as the hot tomato soup burned her tongue a little. She fanned at herself, making Harry chuckle a little before she swallowed it down, “Really good, really hot.”

“I can tell.” He smiled, reaching his hand out for her spoon to take a little bit. He blew air on the orange soup and then put it in his mouth, tasting it too. He hummed and put the spoon back, “Really good. You want a bite of mine?”

He offered her his sandwich and Mia nodded, taking it from Harry as they shared their lunch.

“I don’t want to study anymore.” Mia complained while swirling her spoon through the soup. Harry chuckled, “Me neither. But we’re doing good, aren’t we?”

Mia nibbled her lip and straightened up, “Can’t we like… get a treat for ourselves tonight?”

Harry’s mind went to the filthiest places and he breathed out a chuckle, “I can think of a few treats.” He didn’t stop himself from speaking his mind and Mia blushed as she caught on, “Not like that.” She murmured before shrugging, “Well – maybe like that.”

Harry paused in raising his sandwich, staring at her with his brows up in surprise, “Seriously?”

Mia blushed deeper and didn’t say anything as she shifted in her seat and Harry put his sandwich down while chuckling, smirking at her with a little hum, “Y’really did miss me this weekend, did you?”

“I did.” Mia murmured and Harry’s heart thrashed in his chest as he reached his hand over to find her fingers, two dainty rings on her middle and pointer one, “Are you inviting me over to stay the night on a Monday, Mi?”

Mia’s chest fluttered at the nickname. Mi. She found herself nodding without even realizing it, always in a trance whenever Harry looked at her with these intense, teasing eyes and that lopsided smirk on his lips which just made her swoon, “Yes.” She whispered, “If you want to.”

Harry giddily nodded, “Of course I do. I missed you took, y’know?”

“You did?”

He nodded again, “Of course. Thought about you the entire time, missed waking up with you.”

Mia fought her wide smile as she squeezed his hand back, “Me too.”

“So, what adventurous thing do you want to do then tonight?”

Mia’s brows raised, “Oh – I-I don’t know.” She backtracked quickly and Harry smiled at her, “No, no, I think you had something in mind.” He teased a little. He wanted to know the ins and outs of Mia’s brain – especially the parts she kept hidden from him. He knew she had a dirty side. A very dirty side.

She had told him about her wet dreams and about the chats she had with Hazel to expand on her sexual knowledge. Mia knew stuff. She read stuff, she’d seen stuff. She was just too shy to initiate anything and Harry was still a little stuck in knowing how fast or far he could go with her. Besides, he was more than satisfied with what they did now.

He still just really didn’t want to scare her off in any way. 

Mia nibbled her lip as she glanced her eyes up, “I did have an idea…”

Harry’s heartbeat picked up, wondering if she was really going to speak her mind about what she wanted in bed tonight, if she was really going to say the words, if she really had certain fantasies.

“Yeah?” He asked with a dry throat as Mia shifted and cleared her throat, “Mhm. I-I’ve been thinking of getting my ears pierced.”

Harry’s shoulders dropped a little as he frowned, “Oh.” It wasn’t what he was expecting, but Mia didn’t pick up on his confusion as she sighed out, “Yeah. I’ve had them pierced since I was a little girl, but I’ve kind of wanted to get like a second piercing, in my lobe.”

She brushed her braid over her shoulder to expose her left ear, and Harry stared at the little, subtle diamond stud in her lobe that he hadn’t really even noticed before. She had to be always wearing it for it to stand out this little, Harry thought. Mia then tapped her pointer finger to the skin next to her earring, “So here, maybe? I don’t know, what do you think?”

Harry cleared his throat and nodded, “I think it’d look really good. You’d be very pretty with it, sweetheart.”

“I just hope it doesn’t hurt too much.”

“Well, you’ve had the other two done, right?” Harry asked and Mia chuckled, “Yeah, but I was like… seven. I don’t remember.”

Harry cracked a smile, “If you don’t remember, it couldn’t have been that bad.” He convinced her. Mia smiled back and it grew a little wider as she nodded, “Okay. Well then, that’s what I’d like to do tonight.” She sounded proud, and Harry knew she was giddy. In Mia’s books, this was her acting completely crazy. It was doing something unplanned, a little risky, without her parent’s approval.

And Mia did feel a little reckless about it, but in a good way. Hazel would be proud, she felt. Taking a decision without making a pro’s and cons list and talking herself out of it about eighteen times before making the appointment and then cancelling last minute… she was stepping away from that.

She was going to do this. She was going to get her ear pierced. Tonight.

Mia’s chest bubbled in excitement as she played with Harry’s fingers, “Will you come with me?”

“Of course.” He nodded, “I’ll hold your hand.”

Mia nodded and then shrugged, “You know – uh… maybe you could… think about getting that nose ring again?”

He narrowed his eyes as his smirk slowly grew, “Yeah?”

She shrugged again, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Mia…” Harry mused, “you’d like to see me with that nose ring, wouldn’t you?”

“Just… a normal amount.” She denied, “No more than I want to see you every day.”

Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Sure, you’re a shit liar, baby.”

His cursing came naturally yet Mia wasn’t accustomed to it yet. Especially when doing anything sexual, Harry could get very vocal and talkative. In a good way. Mia really took in his words in moments like that, and they travelled straight between her legs to make her even wetter than she already was.

She blushed a little at his words and rolled her lips inside her mouth, shyly leaning back into her chair to pull up one leg, “Maybe I’d like to see you wearing it, yeah.” She admitted softly.

“I did take it out when I started uni…” Harry mused out loud and Mia pouted a little, “Yeah, but lots of students in philosophy have piercings and tattoos. It’s not like the school forbids it.”

“Shit, baby, you really want me to get that hoop through my nose, hm?” Harry teased, fake sternly grabbing her fingers and Mia giggled to herself, sliding her phone towards Harry, “Will you call and make the appointment for tonight?”

He smiled, “Okay. So studying, piercings, dinner at your place and a sleepover? ‘S my lucky day.”

“Mine too.” She softly crooned, falling in love with him all over as Harry took her phone and dialled the number.

***

Mia regretted her decision a few hours later, when they were packing up their stuff a little before six to get the last appointment at the parlour. 

Her little spurt of confidence had been short-lived, and she had to admit she had a bad studying day because before lunch, she had been constantly distracted by Harry, and after lunch, she had been constantly worrying about this piercing and if it would fit her.

Mia knew it was only an earlobe, not even cartilage or anything. If she wanted to take it out, she would and no one would know. It wasn’t a big deal, most people wouldn’t even notice.

She had made the decision in the blink of an eye, and now she felt like maybe she had to think it over a little bit. She couldn’t even imagine what her parents would say if they ever noticed. Harry gently held her hand as they exited the library. Mia smiled warmly at the librarian as Harry shot her a bit of a grumpy look before they braved the cold.

“Gonna walk home with me really quick to pick up my stuff for tonight, Mi?” Harry asked as they walked the campus grounds. Mia didn’t answer as she kept her eyes low and Harry softly squeezed her fingers before bringing their hands back together in his pocket, “Hm? What’s on your mind?”

“Oh.” She lifted her head and shook it, “Nothing, promise. Yeah, sounds good. We’re here now anyway.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “Told you you’re a shit liar. You having second thoughts about the piercing?”

“A little.” She murmured and Harry hummed, “That’s okay. You don’t have to do it if you don’t feel like it. Or you can, but maybe another day if it doesn’t feel right.”

Mia pressed her lips together, “But… You’re coming with me because I asked you too and you’re getting your nose redone. So how sad would if be if I dragged you there and then didn’t even get anything myself?”

Harry chuckled, “Not sad at all. Like I said, you don’t have to do it if you don’t feel like it.”

“But I do feel like it.”

Harry turned his head to face her, nose slightly pink from the cold as she was bundled up in a thick coat and scarf, “Then what’s on your mind, my love?”

The many nicknames made her want to kiss him stupid over and over again. Mia caught her breath and shrugged, “I don’t know. I think I’m just a little scared.”

“It won’t hurt, if that what you’re worried about. It’s not cartilage, it’s just a little…” he brought his other hand to her free ear, trapping her lobe between his fingers before gently pressing down, “sting.”

“Harry.” Mia laughed, leaning out of his grip as he chuckled. Mia then sighed, “I don’t know. It’s stupid. I should just do it, right? I’m making a big deal out of this.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, “I mean, I think you’d look incredible with it,” He pulled his key out of his other pocket, “I think you look amazing in everything.”

Mia blushed a little as they entered his building, the warmth embracing them as they took the elevator up and Harry let them into his apartment. It smelled like curry and Niall was hanging on the couch as they walked in.

Harry lifted his brows, “Hi. Seems like you’ve had a productive day.”

“Hey.” Niall greeted back, mouth full of food, “Well, didn’t have my usual study group so who can blame me.”

Mia offered Niall a small smile, “You’re welcome to join us in the library.” It earned her a little jab in the ribs from Harry, who shot her a look and shook his head, only making her smile wider. Niall grumbled something, “Nah, ‘s not really my scene. I prefer to study on the couch.”

Mia jumped up in surprise when the door flung open and Louis and Zayn walked in, both dressed in baggy clothing. Louis’ face lit up when he saw Mia, pulling her into a side hug. She clumsily fell into the affectionate gesture but felt relieved when the hands around her body disappeared again. Harry shot her a sympathetic smile and she dropped her shoulders again when relaxing.

She still wasn’t the best with unprepared physical contact, but she knew that the more she’d get to know Harry’s mates, the better it would get.

“Niall,” Zayn groaned, “you swore you’d tell us when the food arrived.”

Niall shrugged and Louis scoffed, “You’ve eaten like half our stuff! You little shit!”

Mia watched in amusement as the boys fought over dinner, while Harry was in his room grabbing a few things to spend the night. He packed his duffle bag with some extra underwear, toiletries and some clothes for tomorrow. He packed an extra jumper in case Mia wanted one of his again. He wouldn’t mind.

“Mia, are you not staying for dinner? I mean – we can order something else. Don’t think Niall’s left much.” Zayn chuckled as Harry exited his room. Mia sat down on the little pouf off to the side as she smiled at his offer and then shook her head, “Harry and I have plans, actually. But thank you.”

“You need to have dinner with us sometime.” Louis chimed in, snatching the food away from Niall and Zayn hummed in agreement. Mia straightened up and blushed a little, “A-Alright. Yeah. Okay.”

“C’mon, love.” Harry mumbled, swinging his duffle bag over his shoulder before waving at his friends, “See you guys tomorrow. Try not to kill one another.”

With Mia’s hand in his, they left again and strutted through the cold campus on their way into the city area. There was a piercing parlour not too far from campus and the guy said they could come in around six thirty as their last appointment of the day. Mia cuddled into Harry’s muscular arm while braving the December cold.

A few Christmas decorations had been put up around campus and it covered everything in a really festive glow. Mia loved it, constantly pointing out little details to Harry who swooned at her enthusiasm. He’d call her cute and smear his lips against hers in the middle of the street, which made Mia blush at their public display of affection.

Her and Harry didn’t brag about their relationship much at school. They got curious looks, from both students and teachers but didn’t do anything besides some hand holding and maybe a kiss on the cheek. 

“Here it is.” Mia breathed as they stood in front of the little shop. It looked grungy and a little scary even, Mia had to admit. It was also a tattoo parlour so the windows were covered in pictures of tattoos, different sketches, doodles, varying from snakes with knives through them to dainty little flowers.

“Got a few tattoos done here a couple months ago.” Harry remembered with a nod before giving Mia’s hand a slight squeeze, “Let’s go in, ‘m freezing.”

They entered the shop together to be greeted by a tattooed and bearded man behind the registry. Mia awkwardly shuffled behind Harry a little. She had never felt so out of place anywhere ever before and she tightly clung to his hand, shying herself from the man behind the registry.

He probably thought she was so silly coming in here, looking like that. She peaked at him over Harry’s shoulder, noticing the friendly smile he shot her boyfriend. Harry nodded at him, “Hi, I called for an appointment earlier.”

“Yeah,” The man nodded, “Sinclair, right?” He checked his computer screen, “Got you up here for two piercings.”

“That’s right.” Harry confirmed, glancing at me over his shoulder with a reassuring nod, “My girlfriend would like a second piercing in her ear, like in the lobe. And I’d like to re-pierce my nose.”

The guy hummed and nodded, “Okay, sounds good. So, I’m Lyle, and I’ll be doing your piercings tonight. You guys can both fill out one of these forms, it’s pretty standard.” He pulled out two sheets and handed them to both Harry and Mia. She reluctantly accepted, pulling out her pink sparkly pen out of her own bag before her and Harry were hunched over the registry to fill it out.

It was questions like if she was allergic to anything, if she took any specific medication, if she was on blood thinners, and anything like that. Her and Harry filled it out in silence before he quickly scanned his eyes over hers. He basically knew these forms by heart, having them filled out a billion times for his tattoos before. 

“Here you go.” He handed both their forms back to Lyle and he nodded, “Alright. Who wants to go first?”

Harry flicked his eyes to Mia, who pressed her lips together and shot him a look. Harry was about to open his mouth but Mia beat him to it, “Me.” She piped up. She got raised brows from Harry in return, surprise written over his face. She sighed out, “If you go first and I have to watch, I’ll never go through with it.”

He chuckled out, “Fair enough, love. Alright.”

“Okay, you can both come with me.” Lyle guided them through some hallways and into one of the rooms where there was a black table for them to lie on, along with more doodles and sketches littering the walls. Harry had his eyes trained in concentration on some of the tattoo designs while Mia slipped off her coat and was instructed to sit down on the table.

“Do I have to lie down?” She asked, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.

Lyle shook his head with a gentle smile, “No, you don’t. You can just sit like that. Lobe piercings really don’t hurt, it’s a little sting and it heals quickly, doesn’t bleed a lot.”

Mia perked up a little bit, a tight-lipped smile on her lips, “Okay.”

“Have you decided which ear you’d like?” He asked, pulling a few things out. Mia subconsciously felt with her fingers to her ears, “Uh – left, I think.”

“Which side do you usually sleep on?”

Mia puckered her lips in thought until Harry stood by her side at the table, playing with the ends of her braid, “Right.” He answered.

“Perfect.” Lyle nodded. Mia smiled gently at Harry, who seemingly knew her better than she knew herself. She relaxed a little more into her seated position and her eyes widened when Lyle pulled up an array of little piercings, “You can pick one of these for me to put in. Take your time.”

“Wow.” She mumbled, letting her eyes dart over the many options. Harry peaked over her shoulders too, humming, “These are very pretty. They’d all look great on you.”

“This one’s really nice.” She stroked the tip of her finger over one of the little heart piercings and Harry hummed, “Really nice.” His eyes travelled over the range of little flower piercings too.

“Oh!” Mia exclaimed with a gasp and a grin, “Harry, there’s a little bumblebee piercing!”

He chuckled, “Yeah, there is.” He looked at the little silver bee piercing which Mia had her eye on, “I want that one.” She murmured.

“Have you picked one?” Lyle asked, putting gloves on his hands. Mia eagerly nodded, “Yes, I-I’d like the little bumblebee. Please.”

“Of course, great pick.”

“Thank you.” She blushed a little, smiling at Harry who nodded at her with pride in his eyes. He let his hand slip to her lower back, letting him feel he was here for her. Mia got instructed to put her hair fully behind her ear, and she straightened up as the her ear got disinfected.

“Okay, ‘m gonna put a little dot on where I think it’d look good. And you tell me if you like it there, yeah?” Lyle spoke. Mia nodded with her lip between her teeth, stifling a little giggle as the marker he used tickled her lobe. Harry kept his eyes on her adorable little smile, the excitement evident on her face.

Lyle handed her a mirror and the corners of Mia’s lips curled up as she looked at the little black dot next to the diamond stud and she flicked her eyes to Harry, “What do you think?”

He pressed his palm into her lower back, fighting the urge to kiss her right here. He licked his bottom lip, “Think it looks great, angel. How about you?”

“I like it.” She murmured, staring at the placement again before lowering the mirror, “Y-Yeah, that’s good.”

He nodded in appreciation before getting everything ready, “Alright. You can just sit up straight and tilt your head a little bit. ‘M gonna pull your lobe just a tad.”

Mia puffed out a breath and straightened up, Harry moving to her other side to gently hold her hands and play with her fingers as Lyle disinfected the area again and got the piercing ready, “It’s just gonna be a little sting and then it’s over, okay?”

“Okay.” Mia squeaked, squeezing Harry’s hands tightly until she felt the pressure on her lobe, the skin being pierced tightly by the device in Lyle’s hand, “There we go.” He mumbled.

Mia bit her tongue as she harshly gripped Harry’s fingers and he squeezed her hands back, “Doing good, Mia. It’s done already.” Harry smiled at her reassuringly. After the first sting subsided, Mia let out a breath and her lips widened in a smile, “It is?”

“Yeah.” Lyle confirmed, pulling back, “Just a second.”

Mia relaxed in the seat a little as Lyle cleaned her up a little bit with a cotton swab, the few little drops of blood being wiped away to leave her ear clean and crisp. He then handed her a mirror, “Here you go.”

“Oh my gosh.” Mia gasped with a beaming glimmer in her eyes, “It looks so good!”

Harry smiled and chuckled out, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek as Lyle had his back to them. Mia stared at her reddened and slightly swollen lobe, decorated with a little silver bumblebee piercing. She turned to Harry, “Harry, I love it.”

“I love it too.” He smiled, cheeks hurting from witnessing the excitement in Mia’s face. She giggled giddily before exhaling a breath, “Thank you so much.” She spoke to Lyle who offered her a gentle smile, “It’s fine, miss. I think you picked a nice one. Looks great.”

She beamed at the compliment and was then ordered to switch places with Harry. He was a lot less nervous than she was and didn’t necessarily need Mia to hold his hand, but she wanted to. Partly to be there for him, partly to distract herself from the dull throb in her lobe which had been violated by ramming a piercing through it.

“Are you okay?” Mia checked in all the time as Harry laid down on his back and Lyle shone a light on his nose to clearly see where the previous piercing hole was. Harry chuckled under his breath, “’M great, Mia. Don’t worry about me.”

“It’s not actually even closed all the way.” Lyle murmured, “So it’s basically gonna be me piercing the skin, but not your cartilage. So it’ll heal quickly.”

Harry nodded, “Okay, that’s great.”

“D’you want a hoop or a stud? Normally we do studs first but since it’s an old one that we’re redoing…”

Harry glanced at Mia, who nibbled her lip, “Hoop.” She softly murmured and Harry smirked before nodding, “Hoop it is.”

Barely a few minutes later, Harry’s right nostril had a little silver hoop in it, complimenting his already impeccable nose. His eyes had watered a little from the pressure but he was calm and breathing normally while Lyle cleaned up a little. Harry got a few more instructions on how to take care of his piercing since they still went through cartilage, but it didn’t bleed or hurt much.

Mia stared at him, in wonder of his strength to the point she forgot about her own pierced ear. Harry got back up, inspecting his old new piercing in the mirror with a grin on his lips. Mia was in disbelief of how himself he still looked. It was like the hoop fit straight into his face, hardly standing out against his skin. 

“You like it?” He checked as Mia pulled her coat back on. She grinned and nibbled her lip before shyly nodding, “I love it.”

Harry hummed and quickly dipped his head to press a little kiss to her lips as Lyle was back up front at the cash register. Harry breathed her in, nudging his nose with hers and not caring how it burned where the hoop pierced him, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She giggled, gently cupping his chin and tracing her thumb over the little dimple below his bottom lip. Both of them chuckled and headed out to pay what they owed Lyle. Mia declined when Harry offered to pay for her piercing and instead paid for his, giving him the nose ring as a little gift.

Harry was affectionate with her on their way back to her apartment, holding his arm around her shoulder and his duffle bag around the other. It had started snowing ever so slightly and Mia buried her cheek into Harry’s side as they walked the sidewalks and simultaneously discussed what they could have for dinner.

They eventually decided on home made pizza’s, something Hazel agreed with when they walked in. Hazel sat on the couch with some tea, immediately prompted to prepare some for Mia and Harry. Mia lit up when Hazel was around, and Harry loved to see her blossoming like this in the company of people she felt comfortable around. 

Mia was a lot looser with Hazel than around his friends, and she proudly showed off her new piercing to Hazel, who gasped and doted over it. She hardly noticed Harry got his literal nose pierced, once more because the accessory just fit him so well and it wasn’t all that noticeable.

Mia pulled her braid out, Harry’s eyes trained on her as she ran her fingers through the length of her locks and then pulled it up in a high ponytail while pulling out the ingredients. He was fully mesmerized by her, hardly listening to Hazel as she told a story about her friend, Renan. Harry just hummed a little but blocked her out, keeping his eyes trained on Mia who moved through the kitchen in her leggings, fuzzy socks and his jumper on. 

She had a concentrated look on her face while pushing on the buttons of the oven, huffing a little in frustration when she got the settings wrong.

She was adorable. She was love. Harry was so, so in love.

Mia was less shy with her affection when it was just Hazel around, and she joined in their conversation while standing behind him and wrapping her arms over his shoulders from her elevated position. Hazel fake gagged and Mia chuckled, kissing Harry’s temple as she rolled her eyes, “You’re so dramatic.” She chuckled.

“You two are disgusting.” Hazel complained and Harry laughed, “We’re not, we’re adorable.”

Hazel huffed, “Sure. Try not to be too adorable tonight, will you? I need my sleep, ‘m behind on my studying.”

Mia turned bright red at Hazel’s words as Harry sputtered out an involuntary laugh, “Fuck.”

“Oh my god.” Mia winced, burying her face in Harry’s neck from behind to hide her heated cheeks. Hazel took pleasure in teasing them, and about thirty minutes later they munched on selfmade pizza while playing a little card game. It was a little silly and made up, all three their brains tired after a full day of studying.

So when ten in the evening rolled around, Hazel started yawning and announced that she was going to bed. She and Mia cleaned up a little, insisting that Harry didn’t have to help which he felt a little bad about.

Eventually, Mia took his hand and guided him into her room too, Hazel’s door already closed for the night. Harry would always feel a thrill in his bones as he followed Mia into her bedroom, a crisp and clean space she invited him to.

They took time in the bathrooms, changing into their pyjamas and doing a little skincare before cleaning their piercings and brushing their teeth. Harry made funny faces at her through the mirror, his sleepy eyes wrinkling in laughter at her giggling, nearly drooling toothpaste as she clutched her belly at his joking.

“Do you want to watch something before we go to bed? I would really like you to give Grey’s Anatomy a go. I’m on like the sixth season and it’s so exciting, you’ll be caught up in no time.” Mia rambled as they entered her bedroom. Harry was behind her and closed the door, smirking at an oblivious Mia before he grabbed her hip and spun her around. She yelped slightly, her ponytail flying around before Harry needily pressed his lips on hers.

Mia lost her breath, legs weakening at the way his fingers tilted up her jaw and his other hand slipped towards her behind, grabbing a handful of her ass into his palm to squeeze, “Darling,” He breathed, “I love you and I’d love to watch that show with you, but I was really hoping I could have you tonight. Been thinking about it all day.”

His words made Mia’s confidence rise, and they pulled back, wet lips brushing together as she drew a breath, “Y-You have?”

“Yes.” He groaned softly, “Missed you so much this weekend.”

“How much?” She whispered. Harry smirked, lazily kissing her again and keeping her close, “Dirty girl.” He spoke, hardly audible and Mia wasn’t sure if she heard it correctly before he took another small breath, “Fucked my hand three times, thinking of you. That’s how much.”

A small moan escaped Mia’s lips and Harry chuckled in delight of her reaction, “Did y’miss me too?”

“Uh huh.” Mia nodded, feeling the bed behind her and with one little nudge of Harry’s hip, they both tumbled into the sheets. He was on top of her, t-shirts separating their bare bodies as Harry held her jaw and kissed the corner of her mouth, “How much?” He asked her own question back to her.

Mia bit her lip, wondering how on earth she could elaborate on the fact she tried to touch herself this weekend. For the first time. Like, on purpose. She was thinking of Harry and felt that warmth between her legs, which usually only happened when he was around her.

It got unbearable, so Mia snuggled under her covers and clenched her legs together, before sighing out in frustration and curiously touching herself. It didn’t feel nearly as good as when Harry did it, and she didn’t really get anywhere, but she… explored.

“Tell me.” He urged in a whisper, somehow already about to guess what was on her mind. But he needed to hear it from her. Mia swallowed thickly and avoided his eyes with a blush on her cheeks, “I-I… uh…”

“Did you touch yourself?” He asked softly, kissing her cheek. Mia’s leg bent a little around him as she found herself nodding, “Yes.”

“Holy fuck.” Harry cursed, pressing a wet kiss to her neck. She could feel him growing against her thigh, a twitch of his dick when he heard her confirmation of his little guess. Harry kissed her lips again, “That’s so hot.” He breathed, “What’d you do, hm, darling? Used your fingers?”

Mia’s heartrate picked up and she breathed in desperate air, “I t-tried.”

“Good girl.” Harry praised, “Didn’t feel good?”

She shook her head, “Not really.”

“Tell me, sweetheart… was your hand inside your panties? Or just rubbing yourself over them?”

“I-Inside.”

Harry grunted again as he rutted his hips forward, rubbing into her thigh as he choked out a breath, “Were y’wet?”

“Yes.” Mia breathed and Harry gripped her jaw tighter, “Fuck, Mia…” Harry pulled back with a dazed look in his eyes, licking his lips, “Are you wet right now?"

Her cheeks flamed up as she felt her stomach clenching together. She hadn’t noticed how tightly her hands were wound in his curls again as she swallowed and forced herself to nod, “Y-Yes.”

“Oh my god – shit.” With each word coming from her mouth, Harry had to recompose himself. He loved her so much, his body loved her so much. She was everything to him and he wanted to show her so badly.

“Can I feel? D’you want my fingers, darling? Can I touch you? O-Or my mouth?” He offered her, desperate, so desperate to feel her in any sort of way she allowed him. Mia bit her lip, her flush deepening as she felt Harry fitting his thigh between her legs to pleasure her a little bit.

It’s usually how they started out, Harry rubbing her with his thigh until Mia grew delirious and needed more. She was already so on edge now, stifling a moan at the pleasure radiating from between her legs when he pressed into her clit.

“Harry…” She breathed, arching her back. She wore a loose t-shirt, no bra with her nipples perk through the white fabric. Harry licked his lips and then leaned down, pressing his mouth over her hard nipple over her shirt. 

He had yet to see her topless, somehow they hadn’t gotten to that yet. Mia gasped at the feeling of his tongue flicking her nipple and she shuddered, fisting his hair tighter, “M-Mouth.” She gasped out, “Please.”

Feeling his wet tongue on her chest, she had no doubt in her mind that his lips were what she craved where she needed him most. Her legs were trembling as Harry groaned and hummed, “Good girl. Want my mouth, that’s what you’ll have, sweetheart. Anything for you. Taste so fuckin’ delicious.” He murmured mindlessly while kissing over her throat.

His fingers played with the waistband of her shorts, tickling her hips as her tummy flipped in anticipation. She was in heaven. Harry hovering over her, giving her his undivided attention and wanting so badly to please her. This was her dream, this was everyone’s dream. Nothing could ever be better or more intimate than this.

Which is why Mia felt confident enough to open her mouth, “Can we try something?” She piped up. Maybe it was her rash decision of the day to get her ear pierced, or maybe it was just her growing comfort and confidence around her boyfriend, but Mia felt an urge to suggest something.

Harry lifted his head, hair tousled, cheeks pink and lips wet. He breathed in harsh puffs while nodding, "Of course, Mi. What’d you have in mind?” His heart was racing with the endless possibilities of what her words might be. Mia shyly glanced away, red rising up her neck as her chest heaved and she drew a breath, “C-Can I be on top?”

Harry felt like he was having a stroke. Mia stared up at him with round eyes, insecurity in her features and a shy blush on her body. His breath stuttered, his prick twitching against her thigh as he dropped his head to her clavicle, “Can y- oh, fuck… Oh my god, please. Yes.”

Mia fought her little smile as Harry quickly rolled them around. Her ponytail tickled his biceps as she hovered over him, his hand keeping her lips pressed to his as she parted her legs around his to straddle him. Mia had always enjoyed being in Harry’s lap or having the upper hand. No matter how comforting the weight of him felt on top of her, she did enjoy the elevated position.

“You’re going to ride my face,” He breathed against her lips, “fuck, this is the best day of my life.”

Mia giggled, “Harry…” And he chuckled back while shaking his head, “No, I’ve dreamt about this, about having you like this. You’re a god damn dream, Mia.”

They shared a loving kiss before Harry reached behind him to slip off his shirt. He pulled at the edges of her shorts, raising them up her hips more to show off the shape of her split thighs and his fingers danced around the curve of her ass.

Grinding for a little bit, Harry had to stop her before he exploded in his shorts. He dropped down his back as Mia shyly glanced over him. Harry popped himself back up on his elbows, “Take off your shorts and panties, sweetheart.”

Mia fought for air as she clumsily slipped out of her bottoms. Her shirt covered her up slightly still as she nervously sat on top of Harry. His eyes devoured her, hands on her bare hips and sliding down her thighs, “Good girl, doing so good.” He rasped out. He licked his lips over and over again, urging Mia to scoot up his chest. 

Her legs split wider to fit him between, shirt riding up a little. Harry kept his eyes on hers, keeping her comfortable as Mia had her lip fit between her teeth and slowly made her way up until she was level with his face. Harry salivated, kneading her thighs, “Fuck.” He couldn’t help the curse slipping from his lips.

Mia tentatively rested her hands on the top bar of her headboard and Harry shifted her ever so slightly, “Keep looking at me, Mia.” He ordered. She softly nodded, gripping the headboard tightly and keeping her eyes locked on his dark green ones. Harry tugged her down, her mouth parting in a gasp when his tongue slipped between her saturated folds.

She watched as Harry’s jaw tensed, she watched as his eyes fluttered shut, rolling back at her taste. He moaned against her, vibrations hitting her clit when he reached her pulsing pearl and gave it a cursory suck, making Mia gasp harder. 

“Oh god,” Mia whimpered when he swirled his tongue lower, messily spreading her slickness around, “Harry.” She threw her head back, pushing her t-shirt covered boobs out and Harry gripped her ass cheeks harder. He groaned with a deep frown, pulling back with his lips saturated in her arousal, “Mia,” He breathed, “eyes on me.”

Mia forced her eyes open, curving her back again to stare down between her legs. The sight of Harry laying below her with a wet mouth and hungry eyes, made her tremble. He nipped her thigh, “Don’t take your eyes off of me. And sit down, c’mon.” He urged her.

Mia bit her lip, “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Mia.” Harry’s voice was more stern, his hand tapping her ass in more of a sharp little slap. Her eyes widened at the touch, warm palm immediately soothing it after as he shot her some sort of a glare, “Fuckin’ sit down on my tongue.”

He pulled her down on him harshly, and Mia’s legs gave way a little as she sunk down on his mouth. She bit down hard on her lip to keep from being too loud, knuckles turning white from curling tightly around the headboard. 

Her toes curled along with it as she fought to keep her eyes open and on Harry. He locked his arms around her thighs to keep her anchored on top of him, and Mia couldn’t stop anymore before she moved herself back against him.

Harry bent his legs, wishing he could touch himself as he witnessed his shy little Mia fucking herself on his mouth. Harry sucked her clit between his lips, licking in pulses as she gasped and exhaled softened whimpers of his name. Her pelvis rocked against his mouth in the rhythm of his delicious flicks.

Mia’s eyes glazed over in pure pleasure as she moaned through her teeth, brows scrunched up in bliss. Harry pulled back for air, panting out against her clit that he gave a little flick, “Scoot forward a little, sweetheart.” He instructed before groaning to himself, “Fuck, can’t wait to feel you sittin’ on my cock like that.”

Mia harshly breathed as she blindly nodded at his words, scooting slightly forward. Harry’s mouth disappeared from sight but his eyes crinkled in a smirk before she felt the tip of his tongue against her weeping hole. 

“Relax.” He murmured, bringing his hand between them to press his thumb over her clit to rub little circles. Mia melted into putty and nodded, “O-Okay.” She tried to do as Harry asked, relaxing. She untensed her muscles, Harry humming in approval. He applied a little more pressure to her clit, pushing tongue deeper inside of her.

It was stretching her. Where he had only pushed one slender finger inside of her previously, his tongue was quite a bit thicker and wider. Harry flexed the muscle, letting it disappear fully inside of her before flicking.

Mia shuddered, hips starting up their rocking again while Harry started a thrusting motion – fucking her with his tongue. With the continuous circles on her slicked bundle of nerves, Mia was on the edge of an orgasm in no time.

Her one hand moved flat against the wall, pressing against it to hold herself up. She hadn’t really considered the hardships of this position, and how her legs would be sore and how she was supposed to keep herself upright. She couldn’t help it when her eyes closed and she tossed her head back.

Harry didn’t spank her for it this time, keeping his tongue buried deep between her walls while flicking her clit until she gasped in a whiny breath and she clenched around the tip of his tongue. He lapped at her, moaning as she released in an intense, convulsing orgasm. Her clit pulsed as he kept his tongue against her while Mia struggled to hold herself up and have a clear thought.

His hands kneaded her ass cheeks as Mia trembled and Harry eventually pulled back, using the muscles of his arms to gently pull Mia away and let her fall down on her back next to him on the mattress. 

He was so fucking hungry for her, immediately rolling on top of her while she dazedly blinked at him with pink cheeks. His lips found hers easily, smearing together as he pushed his tongue out to roll around with hers. His salacious hand didn’t give her a break, slipping between their bodies.

Mia gasped against his lips when he pushed a finger inside of her and curled up into her still throbbing g-spot.

“Harry!” She cried, back arching out as her legs spasmed in an aftershock of her orgasm that Harry seemingly tried to drag out. Mia’s head got thrown back as he groaned into her neck, stroking the tip of his finger into her front wall. She tightly fisted his hair, writhing away from him, “T-Too much!” She choked out, “Too much.”

Harry grunted and tapped her g-spot once more before pulling his finger out. He wondered how far he could push her if she let him, but he respected her boundaries and decided to properly let her come down from her orgasm that he could still taste. Harry pulled back, catching his breaths as he hovered over a half-naked Mia on her bed. 

His hard cock strained against his shorts, pressed between Mia’s legs to still tease her a little even if she was so sensitive. They exchanged heated little kisses until Harry dragged his wet finger up her jaw, tracing it over her bottom lip to make it glisten in her own arousal.

He felt so filthy, unable to stop all his urges this time – like had succeeded in so many times. Mia felt breathless with Harry like this, but it excited her to no end. She wanted him so much and felt on a sparkly pink cloud after that orgasm. He always managed to make her feel so good, to take such good care of her.

They maybe moved slow, but it was so satisfying. Mia kept the eye contact as she darted her tongue out, wrapping her lips softly around the tip of Harry’s finger that had been inside of her earlier. His jaw slacked softly when he watched, Mia sucking his finger deeper.

She tasted herself on him, finger pressing down her tongue. 

Harry wasn’t sure how he was going to survive her. At all. He felt ready to just about die when she hollowed out her cheeks around his digit, sucking on his finger like she would his cock. He could only imagine her with his dick fitted between her lips with that wet tongue sliding around. 

“Fuck, Mia,” Harry gasped, “can I – fuck, please…”

She popped off his finger as Harry used his other hand to quickly yank his shorts down. He pushed up his knees slightly to keep his weight off of her. His hand quickly closed around his shaft, painfully hard. His knees spread her legs, and he stared down the length of her body, seeing her bare pussy spread for him, still wet with her orgasm. 

He wanted to lean down and lick her up, get drunk on her taste over and over again. Drive her crazy, make her melt, make her scream his name, make her pull his hair, make her so confident she’d bounce on his cock one day. 

Mia dragged her foot up his calf as Harry harshly tugged on himself in rapid, tight strokes like he’d imagine her pussy to feel. God, he couldn’t wait to have her. She’d be fucking magical, he just knew it.

“Mia,” He moaned, “I love you so much.” With his finger in her mouth, her hands on his legs and his hand on himself, Harry felt the beginning of his orgasm. He searched her face for approval, and she kept sucking on his finger while nodding – silently allowing him to finish. Harry hovered over her, pink lips opened up in a deep gasp as his entire body tensed and flexed.

“Oh my god.” He choked out, eyes rolling back no matter how hard he tried to focus on Mia. She blurred in front of him as his ears rang and his orgasm spurted out of him, landing on her thighs and the hitched up shirt. 

Harry shuddered, “Shit, you always make me c-cum so fucking hard.” He whimpered out. Mia moved her fingertips up his sides, feeling the ridges of his tight muscles as he came down from his orgasm. Drops of cum leaked from him and onto her skin as Harry’s vision returned.

He felt floaty, completely floaty. He wanted to be wrapped up into her arms and sleep for a few hours, just inhaling her scent as she kissed his forehead. 

“Oh my god.” Harry sighed out, blinking his eyes open and finding Mia intently staring at him. She had a small smile on her lips, softness and love in her eyes. Harry mimicked her stare and breathed out a chuckle, “Hey.”

“Hmm, hi.” Mia murmured back with a little, lazy smile. It was a look Harry didn’t often see on her. He stayed hovered over her as he quickly leaned down to take her in a small kiss, “Was that good?”

“So good.” Mia confirmed, nibbling her lip, “so good.”

“Can I clean you up?” Harry asked in another moment of lust and hunger, a fire for her that appeared to be unable to be dosed. Mia nodded softly, assuming Harry meant he’d get up and grab some tissues or a towel, but Harry smirked at her and leaned down. 

Mia’s lips parted when she felt his lips on her hip and she lifted her head in time to see Harry licking up his release. He kept his eyes on hers, eyeing her reaction. Mia blushed when Harry licked up his own orgasm, tongue moving around her skin to clean her.

She bit her lip, up on her elbows as she watched him, “H-How does it taste?” She timidly asked. Harry chuckled, “D’you want to try?”

Mia hesitated before reaching her finger out, ready to scoop up maybe a little dollop to try. She felt confident, happy, easy here. With Harry, none of this really seemed strange or stupid. It was intimate, how they explored one another.

She learned his body and her own, and he did too. And she loved exploring him, but she also loved exploring herself. 

Harry snatched her finger though before she could reach any of his release on her tummy. He shook his head, “Not like that. Lie back, sweetheart.”

Mia felt confused and paused for a second before doing as Harry instructed her to, laying back down. She had been following his orders all night and didn’t mind doing so. He was the more confident one, and she was glad that he took the lead and guided her through everything but still respected her pace and boundaries.

Mia laid on her back as she felt Harry’s tongue licking next to her belly button before he hovered over her.

His face came over hers, and she stared at him with a small confused frown. Harry’s eyes dropped to her lips and Mia felt her heart beating violently before she drew a sharp little breath and hesitantly parted her lips a little wider. 

Harry hummed with closed lips and Mia opened up a little more, shyly pushing out her tongue. Harry watched as she struggled with figuring out what he wanted her to do, but he didn’t mind. Her cheeks were hot pink when she laid under him with an open mouth and her tongue on display. He gently stroked through her hair once, the ponytail mostly undone at this point.

Harry’s lips puckered and Mia felt fresh heat coiling up in her tummy when he let a line of cum fall from his mouth to hers. It pooled on her tongue as they maintained eye contact, and Harry swore he was about to get hard again. He was spitting his cum back into Mia’s mouth after licking it off of her.

This was heaven, Harry was sure. 

Mia swallowed whatever Harry dropped on her tongue, not sure what to make of the taste. It was salty and just slightly slimy texture-wise. She didn’t have much time to think when he guided her through a deep, lingering kiss that clouded up her brain again. They rolled around the bed a little, him without a shirt and her without any bottoms on.

It was moments later Mia shyly climbed off of the bed to go clean up. Harry teased her about her bare butt and Mia tried to shoot him a glare, but her playful smile gave it away.

With her panties on and just the shirt she hurried into the bathroom to clean a little and wash her hands. She checked her piercing again and did her hair in a bit of a tighter braid to make sure not all of it got stuck in Harry’s mouth during the night.

Padding back into the bedroom, Harry was scrolling on his phone but put it down when Mia walked in. He smiled and opened up her side of the bed to climb into, which she giddily did.

“Can you spoon me?” She whispered once they were engulfed in the darkness of her bedroom. Harry’s hand was on the full of her thigh, pulling her into him as she stroked her fingers up his back. Harry’s lips rested softly against her forehead, “Don’t you need to sleep on your right side?”

Mia’s eyes widened, “Oh my god.”

Harry chuckled and Mia pouted with a little protesting groan, “So you won’t be able to spoon me until this piercing heals?”

He anchored her thigh higher over his hips, “That’s right. But we can still cuddle, m’love.”

Mia hummed, “I’m tired.”

“Me too.” Harry yawned, “We should go to sleep.”

“Another day of studying tomorrow.” Mia sighed and Harry hummed this time, “I know. You did good today, Mia.”

She nibbled her lip, “Not really. I’m a little behind.”

Harry pulled her a little further into his chest, “Well, then we’ll sleep now so you’re nice and fresh tomorrow morning. I’ll wake you up with some coffee and we can go to the library all day. You’ve still got another week.”

Mia knew this, and she nodded at his words, “Yeah.”

It was about to be her first exam period as a uni student. She had one week left and then two weeks of tests before Christmas arrived. Her and Harry had yet to discuss how they were going to spend it.

“I mean it,” Harry sleepily murmured, pulling her even closer into him which is what he always did when falling asleep, holding her as tight as possible, “’m proud of you.”

Mia smiled into his neck, “I’m proud of you too, Harry. I love you.”

“Love you, m’sweetheart.” He whispered back.

[passivenovember]

Disaster hits on the thirteenth day.

Really, if Billy cared to get technical, disaster hits five minutes before the fourteenth day. Verging on a long weekend. 

It’s all detail.

He’s shitfaced to celebrate the full stop of an insane work week, he’s exhausted but floating in that perfect little space of cross-fade where he’s just happy to be barefoot watching Animal Planet in his living room, and Steve’s shitfaced because Billy is, and they’re still freshly moved into their brand new apartment when Steve drops a bomb.

“Robin,” Steve hiccups, sprawled like a newborn deer on the couch with M&M dust stuck to his lip, “Robin’s gonna set me up,” He says.

Billy itches for a cigarette but he promised Steve he’d stop smoking them. They’re adults now, in this brand-new apartment, and adults have to think about things like gum disease and lung cancer. They’re not as young as they used to be so he chews on his thumbnail instead. His brain pokes at Steve’s words with a stick and wonders if they’ll wiggle their consonants at him, raising one foot to reveal webbed membra. 

“Hmm,” Billy says in the meantime. 

“I told her not to,” Steve says distantly. He flips his feet over his head, heels hitting so hard that their bong rattles on the coffee table. “I tried to get her to stop but. She wouldn’t listen.”

Billy rights the bong with an uninterested hand. “‘Course not.”

“She’s evil.”

“She’s a lesbian,” Billy tries, shrugging his shoulders at Steve, like, what’re you gonna do, right? W.L.W.

But Billy’s arm wrestled Buckley enough times. Seen her chop and carry firewood on one shoulder just as often as she cries over rom coms, so he’s not so fucking stupid that he’d really believe lesbianism is the root of all evil, but Steve giggles anyway.

And that’s worth it.

Billy smiles to himself, smug as a bug in a rug for getting Steve to laugh like that.

“She is a lesbian,” Steve says, scooting along the couch until his head plops like wet dough into Billy’s lap. “She’s dating Heather.”

“Heather,” Billy says, tasting her name on his tongue. Hairspray and lemon drop shots. College years.

“Heather Feather,” Steve says, laughing to himself, “It’s so weird.”

“How’s it weird?”

“Just, like. They orbited each other in high school. Like we did, y’know?”

Billy doesn’t know. But his heart stops and kickstarts all in the same second. Runs wild with the possibility that Steve means what Billy hopes he does.

Heather and Robin. Robin and Heather.

Steve and Billy could be like that, someday. 

Steve pokes at his chest. “You know what I mean, Bills?”

Billy says, “Yeah,” so smart that Steve nods and chews on his lower lip until it gets swollen like a summer strawberry. 

Billy’s heart thumps, jumping its own battery.

He loves this boy.

Fuck, has he loved this boy for years--

Billy fiddles with two silky strands of Steve’s hair. Tries to braid two pieces of hair together and fails miserably. Steve almost purrs, rolling his head against Billy’s thigh until his crown grazes Billy’s very interested dick.

And Billy’s used to sporting a half-chub around Steve. It’s not so bad, anymore. It was a lot harder to deal with before he learned about tucking his cockhead into the waistband of his jeans but now, on the couch in his lazy sweats, smoking pot in their brand new very adult apartment when Steve could’ve easily moved into a place of his own now that they’re out of college--

“Heather gets what she wants,” Steve says. In awe.

Billy thinks about turtles without a shell, shriveled and dying, to make his dick calm down.

“Yeah,” Billy mumbles, “She’s the princess.” 

“Thought I was the princess?” Steve wiggles on the couch until Billy can feel his warm, schnapps-y breath against his belly. His eyes are big and wet and if Billy didn’t know any better he’d think Steve was a second from bursting into tears and that.

Does nothing to help Billy’s situation.

“Hey,” Billy says, keeping Steve down, “You’re my princes. THE princess, right? The Queen.”

“The King,” Steve says, smug.

“That Brat,” Billy tells him. He tugs on Steve’s hair and the sound he makes goes right to Billy’s dick. 

And.

Suddenly they’re two seconds from Billy stabbing up through Steve’s skull, throbbing and wet--

“Sorry,” Steve says, smacking a hand over his mouth, “When I’m drunk I get--”

“--It’s alright--”

“--Shit, sorry,” Steve tries to sit up, cheeks red, but Billy holds him down with a gentle, firm hand. 

“It’s alright, Steve,” Billy says. He’s pitching a tent and if Steve sits up right now-- “We’ve been roommates since we were eighteen years old.”

“We’re only twenty-two--”

“Yeah, and I’ve had a front-row seat to four New Years Eves, three big breakups, that semester you were worried about telling your parents you were switching from business to early childhood ed--”

“--My God--”

“I’m just sayin’ your star quality wore off pretty quick.” And turned into a bone-aching, heart-stopping, knee-trembling Disney Prince Level of Heartthrob pheromone that Steve spews like a rogue sprinkler. 

Billy’s kind of obsessed with it. With Steve.

Billy sinks lower on the cushion, thighs spreading so Steve’s gotta shuffle away. “What’s Robin setting you up for? Summer camp instructor at the Y, or something?”

“That’d be so cool, actually.”

Billy smirks, “Working with kids?”

“Yeah, teaching them about the recorded history of macaroni art, catching fireflies, going to the pool--”

“You’re insane.”

Steve blinks, eyes big and hurt. “Why, because I love kids?”

“Well. Yeah?” Billy deadpans, tugging on Steve’s earlobe. “It’s okay to love kids a normal amount but when you spend nine months out of the year teaching the brats to read while they cover the walls in Sharpie so you lose your deposit--”

Steve giggles and Billy tries not to preen like a fucking exotic bird. 

“--Why the fuck would you sign up to spend your two and a half months of PTO with more kids?”

“I’m not spending my summer vacation as a YMCA camp counselor, Billy.”

“Nice,” Billy says, “Because if you were I was gonna say that dusting off that same tired art circle lesson plan for the next unassuming group of brats is probably the first sign of insanity--”

Steve smacks Billy’s stomach, settling in with his bare feet propped on the arm of the couch. “You’re the Wicked Bitch of the Midwest.” He determines. Like he likes it.

Loves it.

“How’d you know what my lesson plans look like?” Steve peers up at him, smile soft and eyes warm like the center of a chocolate cupcake fresh from the oven.

Billy grins back, running his fingers through Steve’s hair until all the softness in his eyes melts away, “If it’s not a classroom of 14 strangers what’s left for Robin to set you up with?”

“A date,” Steve says.

And.

Billy must turn to dust on the spot. His face probably cracks like the surface of a mirror, his fingers ground to the bone so he can feel the rattling timbre of Steve’s heartbeat as he waits to see what’s going to happen.

“Say something,” Steve insists. Like he knows what that news means to Billy, and. He’s hoping it isn’t true.

Billy breathes deeply through his nose, but it feels like his airways have closed like summer roads, little red signs cluing construction. 

Steve sits up, Billy’s fingers slipping from his hair. He smooths it back into place. It’s wild. It pops up again like a spring-loaded toy. Like a jack in the box. 

Billy says, “Who’s the lucky guy,” flat and fragile because his windpipe is being crushed under the weight of unshed emotion.

Steve doesn’t hear it. His face hardens. “I dunno who he is,” Steve says, “That’s the point of a setup--”

“--you didn’t say it was a blind date, how am I supposed to know--”

“--it doesn’t fucking matter, alright?” Steve swings his feet to the floor, elbows to knees so Billy can’t see his face, only the angry red vein that thumbs blood through his neck to his brain. “I thought. I thought I would tell you--”

“And what?” Billy demands.

Steve turns, eyes like a summer storm. Muddy and swamped. He’s breathing like he just ran a race. Lost the gold. “I thought i would tell you about the date, and. I thought you were gonna say something.” 

Billy sits, frozen and terrified, “Steve--”

Steve gets up. He grabs his keys from the bowl on the coffee table, tugs his shoes on by the front door, and slams out of the house.

--

Billy doesn’t know why he couldn’t say it.

Anything. 

So he drinks. He drinks and watches the door and tries to figure out what he’ll say when, someday, it opens and Steve is there cloaked in sunlight.

--

Really, it’s Robin’s fault so he calls Heather, clutching a bottle of whiskey by the neck to keep himself in his place against the wall by the telephone.

Robin answers. “Hello?” She says. And she’s high. Billy knows she’s high because they went to college together.

“Put Feather on,” He demands because if he has to listen to Robin’s voice he’ll stick his head in the oven and end it all.

“Are you drunk?”

“Are you a bitch?”

“God, you’re such an asshole--” Robin starts, but someone yanks the phone away. 

“Billy baby,” Heather says, and Billy tries to not immediately burst into tears at the sound of her voice, scratchy from smoking too much.

He fails. 

In the background, someone’s grumbling under their breath. Someone else is shushing them. 

Steve is at Heather and Robins because. Of course he is, and. Billy doesn’t want to intrude but they’re his lesbians too, alright? They’re all friends. Best friends. Billy has just as much a right to run to their safety as Steve does, and--

“Billy, what’s wrong?” Heather asks. For once in her life she sounds worried. Tired.

Billy wants to tell her everything. 

He’s in love.

Steve wants Billy to be in love with him, and Billy is in love with him but he couldn’t say it and now--

“Do you want me to come over?”

Billy thumps his forehead against the wall. “Feather May, ‘M drunk.”

Heather pulls away from the receiver to whisper something at Steve and Robin. Distantly, he imagines all tree of them crowding around the telephone, anxious to hear what he’s going to say like this is the 1940s and Billy’s the President of The World, making a speech that will really change things, and not.

This. Whatever he is right now.

Pathetic. Smarmy little sack of shit--

“You’re not a sack of shit, Bills,” Heather says, shushing him. “You’re just scared, that’s all--”

“Makes me a sack ah shit, Heath.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Someone’s mumbling again. It sounds like Steve. 

Steve, when he’s at the breakfast table reading the paper to himself quietly. Steve, his head tilted close to a museum plaque at that shitty little pioneer museum in the valley, reading to Billy because Billy was too stubborn to do it himself. Steve, whispering into the receiver in the middle of the night, every night, when he was studying abroad during their last semester of junior year--

“Is,” Billy tries, as the room trips over itself. “Is Steve there?” 

He is. Heather doesn’t have to tell him. Steve is everywhere, written in the sky and on diner tops and scrawled like graffiti over stop signs.

“Yeah,” Heather says. Solemn.

And Billy’s never heard his witch bitch sound solemn before so he starts sniffling again, worried that this means Steve’s never gonna come home because Billy’s afraid. 

“Can he hear me?”

“Yeah,” Heather says, and. 

Billy pushes away from the wall. Wants to stand on his own two feet for this. “I don’t want you to go on a blind date, Steve. Or a set up, or. Whatever. Because I want to watch T.V. with you. And we just signed our brand new lease, like, yesterday and we haven’t even unpacked yet and I thought I could make pancakes. We could fight over who gets the biggest room, or we could move into the biggest room together, like--”

“--Billy--”

“Not in twin beds. Not like those couples from the 1960s but like. Lovers. We could make it our home, and you could read the paper to me out loud on Sunday’s, and I could brush your hair because your hair is so soft, Steve. I want a pillow and a sweater and a blanket made of your hair, I want--”

“--Billy, stop--”

“I want to live inside you. Forever. In this house, inside of you, beside you, on top of you, I want. You. I love you.” Billy says, from the floor. 

He sat down.

Somewhere in the middle of that he sat down, and the floor is nice. Steve should be here with him.

"I can move out,” He says. Like. Problem solved, and. The line goes silent, everyone holding their breath, so Billy takes another swig from the bottle and clarifies, heart breaking, “I don’t want Steve to go away.”

No one says anything. 

Billy tries not to cry, again. 

Fails.

“I don’t want him to never come home,” Billy says, wrapping himself in the phone cord, somehow. “If he won’t come home because I’m here, I’ll go. I’ll go pack a bag right now, but. I’ll make sure it’s perfect for him. I’ll make sure it’s home. I’ll make some bread and put the coffee on and I’ll clean the kitchen before I disappear, I’ll--”

“I love you,” Steve says.

Steve.

Stevestevesteve--

There’s snot running down Billy’s nose. It’s disgusting. 

“I’m not leaving,” Steve says, sounding. Way more sober than Billy’s ever been in his entire life. Like he’s studied Billy, he’s mapped the path, he knows what he wants--

“I’m never leaving you,” Steve tells him, voice soft like feather down. “No matter what.”

Billy lifts his whiskey bottle to find that it’s empty. “Steve, I’m drunk.”

On the other end of the line, Steve hums. Billy knows he’s chewing on his thumb nail, deep in thought like he gets when it’s late and Billy’s a burning forest needing something cool to hang onto.

Billy leans against the wall. 

When he was a kid he used to imagine what he could’ve done differently. How many times he could’ve done differently, and.

It starts with his mom. 

He tried. She never listened, but Steve does. Billy wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and says, “Can you come home, now,”

And Steve says, “I’ve already got my shoes on.”

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Foreign Perception

TW: Bruises, scratches and fights mentioned

Words: 1.2k

He was sprawled out on the couch, dressed in a black, satin robe, the edges of it lined with a wine red trim. The sunlight illuminated half of his form, seeming to highlight his features; the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones and his sleek figure as well as the curves of the softer features of his face, of his raven hair, all drawn in golden ink.

"Ah, you've woken up," he remarked softly, the usual scratchiness of his morning voice missing, sounding silkier instead. He'd been awake for a while, it seemed, which was strange because he wasn't really a morning person.

Outwardly, he seemed immaculate, tousled hair slightly damp from a shower, his skin looking healthy and well cared for. The luxuriant garment fell slightly as he shifted himself, exposing his collarbones and the tips of his shoulders.

A closer look at him revealed details of a different nature, the ones the sunlight refused to cast its golden glow on. The bruise on his left cheek, an ugly shade of purple and swollen, the dark bags under his eyes, the partially split lip, and a long, fading scratch partially exposed where the fabric of his robe wasn't hiding skin.

"Lie down with me," he suggested, in the same gentle and yet commanding tone, "you look tired." He gestured to the empty space next to him, an almost expectant look in his eyes.

So she obliged, not so much lying down as sitting next to him, her movements a little slow. He smelled like strong, expensive cologne; some sort of smoky wood and an elegant mix of spices.

"Relax, I won't bite," he supplied, a very slight hint of amusement in his tone that one could only pick up by spending a considerable amount of time around him.

Tentatively, she leaned back until her head rested against his chest, letting her arms fall limp at her sides. When the villain showed no indications of discomfort or annoyance, she slackened her posture a bit more.

"That's more like it," the villain praised, no hint of his usual biting sarcasm present. Most of their previous exchanges had involved snide remarks falling off of his sharp tongue and her snapping back at him. Not now, it seemed.

He slowly moved his arm so that it was around one of her shoulders, letting out a soft sigh, a perfect mix of exhausted and utterly relaxed.

The villain was usually unapproachable, even in more casual clothing, with a cryptic resting face that loosely resembled a dark scowl and an unreadable expression in his eyes. He seemed to emant danger, like he carried a warning sign everywhere. Right now, however, he looked impossibly soft, no mask to hide behind.

This time, he layed down completely on the couch, tapping her shoulder lightly so that she would follow his example. The hero found herself being pulled into strong arms, the villain's embrace being surprisingly warm.

"Why are we doing this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Despite that, she half-wished to stroke a hand through the criminal's hair, settling only for pushing the loose strands out of his eyes.

"I'm not very sure, maybe it's just calmer, you know. Than what we do every day." He gently guided her fingers through his locks. "It's okay. I think I actually like it when you touch my hair," he said softly.

So she ran her fingers through the villain's hair, noticing how his breathing slowed, how he closed his eyes and involuntarily leaned into the touch.

He opened his eyes and started tracing patterns into her arm absentmindedly with the fingers of one hand, the other still holding her close to him. "You're extremely quiet, which is very unlike you, any reason why?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know, Villain, I just don't have much to say. Maybe I talk too much, but I don't mind the quiet," she remarked, continuing to card her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp.

"I don't think you talk too much," he stage-whispered, smoothing down a wrinkle in her silken dress, his fingers toying with the embroidery on the skirt. It had been a birthday gift, another trademark of their weird, nonsensical to-hate-or-not-to-hate relationship.

"You? Of all people. I thought you hated it." She let a dry laugh make its way into her tone, disbelieving.

"I didn't appreciate being insulted," he replied, only slightly irritable, a glint of mirth visible in the emerald green eyes, "but it was pretty much a mutual thing, and I know people who talk too much, incessantly, but you're not one. It's not noise to me, maybe you talk more than I do, but you listen, so that's a good thing." His hand skirted down the side of her face, and he started tracing her cheekbones down to her jaw. There were small bruises scattered across her cheeks, a few old scars across her figure, and some newer scrapes from more recent fights, some of which, he came to realise, were his fault.

But again, it's not like she hadn't managed to leave any marks on him.

"You're pretty," he remarked before he could catch himself, "for someone who has to get into all these fights, a bit of a shame, really."

"Fighting crime's not a good enough reason to taint my beauty?" she asked, ironically drawing the shape of a scar on his chest with her fingers, blissfully cool against his skin.

"Not what I meant," he attested.

She simply laughed. "Easy. I'm messing with you. Want to know something a little crazy?" she questioned, now playing with the curls of his hair.

"Mhm."

"First time I saw you without a mask, as much as I despised you then, the first, unfiltered thought in my head was that you looked like someone from a perfume ad."

A rare, genuine smile graced the villain's lips. "This is the most oddly specific compliment I've ever received but I'll take it." He toyed with the strands of her hair, weaving his fingers down the length of it. "I don't think we're friends," he decided.

"No," she agreed, tugging a little at the roots of his hair.

"I don't think friends keep doing. . .whatever it is this is unannounced," the villain concluded.

"Being physically affectionate, yes."

"But you know we aren't lovers, either. Is this a side-effect of the whole marriage thing?"

"No, I don't think so," she answered, smoothing the criminal's stray hairs down, "I think we're something in between enemies and lovers. I also think we're both touch-starved, and this. . .this calms us both." She started rubbing a stiff knot in his neck, earning a few contented sighs and shivers from him.

His hand flitted to somewhere near her shoulder, delicately tracing patterns into the skin, increasing pressure sometimes when it seemed fit. Involuntarily, she nuzzled her head into the crook of the villain's neck, and soon his own head slumped forward.

They'd both fallen asleep, mortal enemies in each other's arms, feeling safer than they ever had before.

Few things can rival something as simple and primitive as a gentle touch. More powerful than what one would expect, a frivolous, sentimental luxury only to those who chose to be blind, to run away and hide behind walls of indifference covered in cracks and close to collapsing. Even those who consider it a foreign perception in their world come to realise its priceless value sooner than they would dare to expect.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @usernotfound000 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @shr3ya @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

[monimccoythings]

SFW alphabet: Arlong

A= Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He is not one to show a lot of affection, specially in public. He is a rough and tough fishman with a repuptation to keep, the only affection he has ever shown is that kind of brotherly affection he has with his crew. However, when you two are alone, he will sit you on his lap, and his webbed fingers will trace lines down your skin while he covers your neck in rough kisses, his sharp teeth close to breaking your skin but never managing to. He also likes to bring you close to smell your hair. That's as much as you can expect from him apart from the occasional kiss and nuzzle.

Sometimes you can hear coming out from his chest little growls that resemble purrs, though he will deny it and will threaten anyone who dares to mention them.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He has no favorite moment, but there are moments that he particularly likes. He likes that time where you stood up for fishmen against a slave owner, he found that very funny and endearing, as if they needed protection from a human; he really likes the minutes after he has had sex with you, just watching you sprawled on the bed with only the moonlight illuminating your body does wild things to him that he would never admit out loud. He also likes those private moments he gets to share with you, just watching you doing your own thing while he calmly observes you from his seat.

If you have children, there will definitely be a number one moment and it's the first time he sees you holding your child in your arms. That moment alone will awake something very primal inside him.

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

He likes fishman and mermaid children and he has proven to be able to take care of them, just like he did with his younger sister; but he is a terrible influence over them, just look what happened with Hody. Human children, he does not like them very much, but will tolerate them if needed. If you two ever have children, he would be surprisingly doting and loving of them even if they are half human. I think he would feel the need to compensate for his lack of parents when he was younger, he doesn't want his kids to struggle the same ways he and his sister did.

O= Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It takes long for him to open up to you. Even if you were a mermaid or a fishwoman, he still wouldn't open up to you so easily. Arlong doesn't like to talk much about his past or his feelings, the only people that seem to have his full trust are his crew. When he does open, he will only reveal small details about himself and his backstory, not too much that could leave him emotionally vulnerable before you.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He pulls you close to his chest, drapping a possessive arm around you. He buries his nose in your neck, and he will never tell, but you know that's because your scent calms him down, if the way his heavy breathing starts to slow down when he sniffs you is any indication. Just feeling his big warm body embracing you is enough to make you sleep peacefully and feeling protected.

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He is a brute. That's the truth. He was raised on the Fishman district and every day of his childhood was a fight for survival. He may act coy and sly and polite enough for a man of his temper to lead his foes into a false sense of security, but can be pretty ruthless and raw if he wants to.

But don't worry, he realises quickly that you are no match for him physically, so he tries to be as careful as he is able to with you because to him, you are made of glass.

(Okay, as your relationship develops further, he starts becoming a bit softer and gentler around you, but not enough to look weak in front of his comrades and enemies, he wants to keep his status as a feared fishman pirate intact. Don't expect him to act all lovey dovey and prince charming, though).

[timotey]

Ficlet: Like Back Then Again

The Sign. Yai & Tharn. Missing scene from ep 6. Discussion of deep depression. Unbeta'd.

Yai just knows that there's something going on.

(I loved the little details about Tharn that ep 6 revealed. Ergo, a fic happened. Tadaaaa! 👐🏻)

***

“Yai?” Tharn blinks, all puzzled, when he opens the door of his condo and finds his childhood friend standing there, a box full of beer in one hand.

Without waiting for an invitation, Yai barges in. “My wife is out on the town with her posse, most likely doing things that I don't want to know or think about. So, it’s your duty as my bro to entertain me.” He dumps the box on the kitchen counter, the bottles rattle loudly, and grabbing one, he sprawls on the couch comfortably.

Tharn blinks again, puzzled by this logic. “O-kay?” he rather asks than says and closes the door softly.

“Have one!” Yai invites him, opening his bottle with a pop and taking a swig.

Tharn obliges, though he doesn’t really feel like drinking, and sits down on the other end of the couch, pressing himself into the corner and pulling his knees to his chest. He doesn’t open his bottle, just rolls it in his hand, studying its colorful label without truly seeing it. He looks very tired.

Yai watches him with narrowed eyes for a moment, then, after another swig of beer, he says briskly, “Okay, brother, what’s going on? Spill. For days now, you’ve been really… weird. I mean, weirder than usual, you know?”

Tharn glances at him sideways, then starts peeling the label off the bottle, bit by bit, pretending to fully focus on this task. “I have no idea what you mean,” he mumbles.

Yai rolls his eyes. “Dude! It’s me.” He jabs himself in the chest with his thumb. “If you can’t talk to me, then to who? Did something happen? With Phaya? Or?” he presses on relentlessly because he knows, he just knows, that there’s something going on. And it’s not nosy curiosity driving him on but genuine concern for his best friend.

For a moment it seems like Tharn won’t answer. But then the label on his bottle rips and a crack in the wall that he surrounded himself with appears. “I hit him,” Tharn whispers, gripping the bottle with both of his hands and smoothing down the damaged label with his thumbs.

Yai frowns. “Who?”

Tharn swallows. “I hit Phaya. He had a row with the Doc and he kept pushing and pushing and I-I… I hit him.” His voice cracks a little and he swallows.

Silence. Yai just stares. Then, leaning forward, he sets his half-empty bottle down on the coffee table and turns to Tharn. Very softly, very gently he asks, “Tharn, what’s going on? Something’s the matter, I know it. Because you don’t go around punching people, not anyone, let alone the guy you have feelings for.”

Tharn keeps staring down at the unopened bottle in his hands, knees pulled up defensively. He’s not answering, not even to claim having no feelings for Phaya, but Yai’s determined to wait him out.

Swallowing hard again, Tharn tries to speak and fails, tries again and this time, “It’s… it’s starting to feel like back then… again. Things… and all.”

Back then. Tharn doesn’t need to elaborate. Yai still remembers ‘back then’, vividly so. Back then when Tharn’s love died, unexpectedly and nonsensically, and Tharn was swallowed by a pit of depression so deep and dark that Yai feared he would never find his way out again.

Taking a deep breath, Yai clenches his hands tight, so tight that his knuckles turn white, but his voice is calm when he asks, “How bad?”

Tharn still doesn’t look at him. “Not as bad, I can manage,” he mutters lamely.

But Yai frowns. “No, Tharn, you don’t ‘manage’ this, not this,” he says kindly but firmly. “You gave me your word back then that if you ever started feeling like that again, you would seek help. And I am holding you to that promise, brother.”

Tharn hunches his shoulders a little as if guilt rested heavily on them.

But Yai won’t back down, not on this. Because he doesn’t want to see Tharn suffer like that again, he doesn’t want to go to bed every night, fearing that Tharn won’t be there anymore when he wakes up. Those memories still give him the chills.

“Maybe it would be a good idea to go back to therapy,” Yai suggests. “You know that Doc Chalothon would make time for you, always, for you.”

Tharn cringes a little. “I’m not so sure it would be such a good idea. To have him as my therapist again, considering…” He doesn’t finish the sentence.

Yai does it for him. “Considering your crush hates his guts for some unfathomable reason?”

Tharn waves his hand a little instead of answering but it’s an answer in itself.

“Fine,” Yai says. “Then find another therapist.”

Frowning, Tharn protests, “But that would probably hurt Doctor Chalothon’s feelings and–”

But Yai cuts him off, “Fuck him.” 

This time Tharn does look at him, startled.

“You heard me,” Yai says. “I like the Doc, he’s done marvels for you back then and I will be forever grateful to him for that. But fuck him. And fuck Phaya, too, even though I am convinced he would be good for you, that he would make you really happy. But fuck him too. This isn’t about them. It’s about you. What you need.”

“It’s not that simple…” Tharn whispers, looking at him with eyes that seem way too dull and lifeless.

“Yeah, yeah it is!” Yai snaps harshly. “You want to go back to therapy with the Doc? Then go for it. You want to find someone else? Then do. I will help you. We can look up someone right now.”

Tharn lowers his eyes again. Something in Yai’s chest hitches. He and Tharn are almost the same height yet Tharn’s always felt somehow smaller to him. But right now, right now he feels almost insubstantial to Yai, like he’s fading, and it’s scaring the shit out of Yai.

He scoots closer on the couch. “Look, if you feel put under pressure, I’ll run interference for you,” Yai offers, leaning down to catch Tharn’s eyes. “I’ll go to the Doc and explain the situation to him. Hell, I’ll talk to Phaya for you and tell him to back the fuck off for a while. Anything, Tharn, you know that.”

Tharn finally looks up again, smiles a little. “Yeah, I do.”

Yai relaxes just a fraction. He reaches out and pulls Tharn into an one-armed hug. Tharn lets him, leaning heavily against Yai who can almost feel Tharn’s bone-deep exhaustion now. It breaks his heart a little.

“It’s just all too much,” Tharn admits quietly, closing his eyes.

Yai hugs him tight, wrapping both arms around Tharn. “It’s going to be alright, brother,” he says. “We will deal with this. I know that. Just lean on me and we will kick this thing in the ass.”

Releasing a deep, shuddery breath, Tharn allows himself to relax, pent-up tension flowing out of his body, leaving him feeling all boneless and loose. “Okay,” he says. “Alright, we can do that.”

And Yai nods fiercely. “Of course we can. Trust me!”

[sunnyie-eve]

8 | An Accessory

Series: The Benefits 

Paring: Coriolanus Snow x OFC Plinth!

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: implied sex, mention of death

| MASTERLIST |

~

That question kept Aurelia up at night. The rest of the party was a success, and Coriolanus did everything right being the boy she once knew. A sudden knocking at her apartment front door startled her since it was super late at night. Getting up going to see was on the other side she was surprised to see Coriolanus standing there.

When she opened the door, revealing a disheveled Coriolanus, his blazer was discarded and still in the dress shirt he wore to the wedding shower/ birthday party with a few extra buttons loose, "Have you been drinking?" He stumbled past her to sprawl out on the couch.

Coriolanus pinched his thumb and pointer finger close together in response to her question "Be honest, do you really want to marry me?" Coriolanus's tone was soft and gentle.

Aurelia slowly made her way closer to the couch, "I don't know anymore... It used to be a yes then a no after the truth, but now... You confuse me Coriolanus. You're hardly the boy I knew and fell for. Most of the time you're the cold emotionless person, but will flip like a switch at times with me."

"I love you and I'm sorry."

"You're drunk." She sits in front of him on the carpet.

"So? I know I love you and I'm sorry for taking your brother way. I wasn't trying to get Sejanus killed on purpose, just in enough trouble to decenter myself from the situation. I cried after it happened wishing he had a different fate. I didn't really like him most of the time due our differences, but I also didn't wish harm to come to him. He was my only true friend I had other than you. He was your brother and I knew how much he meant to you so I became his friend. I remember when your family first moved here you told Sejanus who needs friends because we have each other. And you hated seeing others bully him." Coriolanus stumbled through his sentences.

"I'll get you a glass of water." Getting up from the floor to walk to the kitchen, Coriolanus took her hand in his to stop her.

"Don't leave. Just tell me you believe me. Please, I'm being vulnerable to you right now." He cries getting upset as he pours his heart out to her.

It's true, he's ever cried like this in front of her, "You said to never lie to each other once we got together so I believe you." She squeezes his hand, "I love you too Coryo." He slides off the couch to pull her onto his lap to place his lips onto hers and smiles into the kiss as she kisses him back.

-

Aurelia sat in a room by herself, in a wedding dress. This morning she was made to be woken up early seeing Coriolanus wasn't there anymore. For the past couple of days she oddly loved it when she would wake up with his arms wrapped around her, it made her feel something she hadn't in a very long time.

She was forced into a bright room with many cosmetic items around, they did her makeup and hair before putting her in a huge white dress with red detailing. Then they left and she was made to sit there until she was ordered otherwise, which she assumed would be soon, she would be correct.

"Look how beautiful you are. Honey, look at our little girl." Ma enters the room.

"Thank you, Ma." Aurelia hugs her mother then father.

"Are you ready?" Her father puts his arm out for her so she takes it while Ma leaves to go take a seat letting everyone know it's time.

As she walked out of the room and onto the long red carpet-lined aisle, she immediately regretted that thought. Her face was bombarded with camera flashes as she walked towards Coriolanus. He was standing with a small red rose in his hand to match the one he was wearing and as she approached he stepped forward ever slightly.

"For you my love," He whispered to her before placing the rose behind her ear.

He found her to be the most beautiful person he has and ever will lay eyes on for the rest of his life, standing there in white, his color, she was his. He smiled down at her and she flashed her unremovable grin at him. He took both her hands in his, stepping back, and staring into her eyes intently.

The officiant stepped up as more photos were taken he started by explaining what this wedding meant, a unity between the Capitol and the districts, a peace. They went on to say their vows, Coriolanus ever so charming, and her quite nervous, he made sure that wouldn't be the case though, as his warm, comforting gaze fell over her. They exchanged rings, both being white silver, his with red inlaying, and hers with a lovely bright red ruby in the middle. Soon she was in Coriolanus' arms being kissed by him, a deep loving one, one full of promises one that assured her that he would never leave, til' death do they part. They pulled apart the whole crowd screaming and then there she was, Mrs. Snow.

Coriolanus was quick to pull her away from all the excited reporters outside, and into a small room, "Why do cameras' flashes have to be so bright?" He laughs as she leaned against the wall, "Are you okay?" He asks worried about her.

"Yeah, don't worry. You just know I hate all the cameras." She gives him a tiny smile so he walks over picking her up to place her to sit on the table next to them.

"I know, at least you aren't ugly." He smiles making her laugh.

Soon they would be taken by their stylists stripped out of their more extravagant clothes and put into some toned-down clothes, still nice, but not too nice. When she walked out and saw Coriolanus he looked stunned as he stared at her, "What is it bad?" She'd asked him and he just chuckled before grabbing her hand and leading her to a huge dining hall for their dinner with all the important Capitol people she did not know the names of.

Over the whole extent of the dinner she sat next to Coriolanus, his hand on her thigh protectively, he spoke to various people many congratulating the both of them and also many talking to him about seemingly important things.

As the night went on she hated seeing how everyone treated her like an accessory an animal, Snow's girl. Whenever someone would talk to her it was just about Coriolanus, when are they gonna try for kids, the Capitol was lucky to have the two famous families get together.

As Aurelia sat there staring at her hands in her lap and she didn't notice Coriolanus trying to get her attention. "My love? Are you okay?" His voice was gentler than usual, concern seeping in as he placed a hand on her face, turning her to look at him. She came out of her thoughts when he did this smiling up at him, silent. "Sweetheart?"

"I'm done for the night. I'm ready to go home." She stared up into his icy eyes, he was standing above her and when she looked around there were very few people left, was she really out of it for that long? He dropped his hand from her face before taking her hand and helping her up.

"Let's home," He said to her dragging her by the hand out of the room in quick strides as they exited the building.

Soon they ended up back in their home, entering through the door Aurelia just stared at the room picturing her future with kids, who Coriolanus would spoil, seeing herself as this perfect wife and mother. Being an accessory for him. If he was to ever become President, she knew she would have to make a whole persona to fit in. Give in and finally be Capitol. Aurelia was now going to be the the main rose for Coriolanus.

"What's wrong love? You look bothered."

"My future is already set and planned out for me by everyone else since I'm married to you know. It was so obvious talking to people tonight. No one sees me as my own person with choices, but as if you own me." She walks towards their room.

"I don't own you. Just like me you are very stubborn." He follows her, "When I say your mine, I don't mean it like that."

"I don't care what you say or think about me! I care about them, Coriolanus!" She snaps, "Someone said you won both Plinth Prizes to me tonight. I'm not a prize."

"I understand you don't want people to see you in that way so you have to prove to them you're not. You're gonna rule your way to the very top with me. You're gonna idolize you one day trust me. We'll work together and get that." He walks up to her rubbing her shoulders, "Imagine the power we'll have together." He smiles running his hands down her arms, "Also you are no where near being a prize," He leans down placing a kiss on her lips, "You're so much more important and better than that." His lips move to her exposed neck.

"I hate you." Aurelia giggles grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss, "Now prove to me how much you love your wife, Mr. Snow." She bites her bottom lip.

The look in her eyes drove him crazy. He crashed his lips onto her. It was forceful, ensuring she couldn't turn away. His tongue was already in her mouth before she could even register it. Coriolanus was in bliss. Her lips were soft, molding perfectly to his. She moaned into his mouth, and it made his body heat up all the same. Coriolanus couldn't get enough of her.

They didn't break their kiss once while undressing each other. Aurelia's mind was so foggy and runny a muck she had no control over her body. When he finally detached his lips from hers, the both of them panting, Coriolanus wrapped an arm around Aurelia's bare waist tossing them onto the bed.

A prideful smirk overtook Coriolanus's face. He moved getting a hold of her wrists in one hand, dragging them down over her belly, and placed himself between her legs, "Mrs. Snow, you have no idea how much I've been waiting for this."

"Then don't disappoint me."

[kristyglas]

Forest of Reflections- Art Process

This forest was incredibly tranquil and silent, with an occasional rustle of the leaves by the wind. The trees were densely packed, except for an obscure little road that twisted between them, left behind by those who passed there before. The ground was covered with interconnected roots like earthy webs that sprawled endlessly into the distance. They appeared to form wide stairs across the rough turf and stones.

The path opened up to a clearing with ancient trees and the silence erupted into a cacophony as the magic crackled mid air. The hero felt as if she was plunged head first into cold waters that instantly cracked into a million mirrors, revealing a new passage leading to higher grounds.

An elusive shadow followed her up the fragile steps, as she climbed ever so carefully as to not crack the thin glass. She couldn't brush off the thoughts of the world just crumbling away beneath her into the abyss.

The reflections changed chaotically, making it difficult to see where she was going. Her mind wandered endlessly, travelling through many places at the same time, some of them she knew from memories, while others she didn't recognize. The realities blurred together, as the sharp edges revealed too many things to see a clear picture. However, she noticed various oddities that she couldn't explain, revealing new things she never noticed before.

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

I usually strive for balance in my works, in this case it’s the balance between sharp lines and curves, making the painting feel less threatening and more mysterious. I start with a palette I like, usually based on my current mood. In this case I took an older sketch I did for 2021 dailies and I used it as the base for this painting. That's why I love generating lots of quick sketches, so I can pick my favorites later without worrying about the time, but I'm also not afraid to go outside my comfort zone with new colors and ideas. I believe first impression is really important for each painting, as it needs to catch the attention before all of the details can be examined.

There are a few important things I make sure to cover in every painting- the colors/mood, the visual focal point (check greyscale version of the painting), adding something new. Since this project is about adventure and journey, I want to add something new to each piece, but also connect it to the previous work.

Keep in mind I do a lot of various details subconsciously, the only thing that I focus on is what feeling I want to achieve, or the theme of the painting. So, I take the time to follow that goal until the painting feels complete. I take a lot of breaks, usually working on a couple of painting at the same time. I love listening to various music while painting, and it does a lot for setting the mood and it helps me draw for a longer time, otherwise I get restless sitting for long periods of time.

Adventure series is a sort of journal for me, it’s about exploration and self-reflection. I want to keep developing it and as things progress hopefully evolve it. However, I’m careful at not giving any promises since I don’t know what I can achieve but mostly how long it will take, so I do my best. I love to improve my various skills, and it might not be obvious, but it actually takes me a while to write a description for these paintings. Usually, the hardest part is getting started, but once I have a general flow, it’s a lot easier to edit the text until I’m happy with the final. 

[winksasleeplesseye]

File #008 - This Much is True

City of the Dead

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x OC

Warnings: Slight mention of death

Word Count: 4.4k 

Previous Chapter  Next Chapter

Amara, Leon, and Ada’s first steps were to gather all that they could from the NEST lab. Correction, Amara and Leon’s first steps. As it turns out, being knocked off a platform by Annette Birkin into piles of trash doesn’t bode well for anyone, most of all Ada. 

A piece of shrapnel embedded itself in her leg and Leon had to be the one to bandage her leg, so now it was up to the two of them to retrieve a sample of what Ada called the G-Virus. 

Walking to the entrance of the lab made Amara realize how many leagues above her all of this was. Everything from the ceiling to the floor shines like a new penny, all the colors in this place were muted, Umbrella opting to stick to going full super evil corporation with all the black and white. 

Just about the only thing in this place that had even a hint of color was the splash of an almost blood-red in their logo plastered behind the front desk’s wall. Something about it all creeped her out. 

Amara had never really actually seen a place like this in real life, in movies? Sure, but they always were far enough removed from reality that one could never think they’d really exist. This really is some sci-fi bullshit. 

“If this place doesn’t scream evil, I don’t know what does,” Leon seems to read her mind. 

“Took the words right out my mouth.” 

First goal? Get the G-Virus. Second goal? Pilfer any info left that she can get her hands on from the computers. Maneuvering around the front desk, she fiddles with the mouse waking up the computer. She wasn’t only a sharpshooter on the Bravo team, she was the communications specialist…at least she could put her skill to good use again. 

Her fingers skirt across the keyboard, she’s not usually one for hacking but considering the computer is password protected, she needed to get in somehow. 

Umbrella11. UmbrellaCorp98. EvilPeople1. 

Those are just a few of the passwords that she tries, just for fun because they clearly don’t work. Guess hacking is the only option. She cracks her knuckles briefly. 

Leon comes behind her, looking at the screen as she began to work. “Since when did you become a hacker?” 

“First computer I ever played with as a kid was an Apple computer, computer classes were sparse on base but I took all the ones I could,” She explained, continuing typing. 

“That doesn’t explain how-” 

“Lots of curiosity, Leon.” She had hacked into the FBI and CIA databases once or twice before on a dare from Chris, Rebecca, and Forest one late working evening, it took her a good twenty minutes to calm them down. Then, they eventually tried to find the more silly documents about UFOs but had no luck.

“Won’t Umbrella know you’re hacking them?” Leon sounded a little more than distressed. For the first time in the whole evening, Amara is more than confident in something. 

“I could hack the government’s servers with the goddamn president’s computer and they wouldn’t know who did it. Relax, rookie. Who would they even send to stop me? A boogeyman?” 

“I wouldn’t push your luck around the monster magn-”

“Done.”

“Done?” He looked back at the screen, eyes widening as the email interface popped up. Their eyes both scanned every detail they could take in. “I’m impressed.”

“You’re welcome,” She smiles before getting up from the desk chair.

The emails detailed various correspondence between each scientist, and each section of the lab, all working on something different in what reveals itself to be a sprawling facility. 

The G-Virus was in the West area. So, West area they’ll go. 

Amara couldn’t help but marvel at the advanced technology and what had to be millions of taxpayer’s dollars that went into this underground labyrinth. Impressive. Leave it to Umbrella to build a monstrosity like this. 

As they moved deeper into the East wing of the facility (because of course, nothing is ever just easily accessible), Amara couldn’t help but notice the remnants of what she could only assume was disaster littering the halls. Mutated creatures, sickening amalgamations of flesh, skulls, and greenery that would arise, abandoned equipment, and corpses of scientists were all a bone-chilling sight. 

“Why would you ever need to hack anything?” Leon asks randomly, holding his gun at the ready for anything in this place. The area, the greenhouse she assumes, certainly had become overgrown with vines, they practically burst from the seams of the ceilings and floors. If the zombies weren’t bad enough, now they were wrapped up in dangerous flora. Fun. 

Amara briefly glances at Leon, noticing his focused expression. “STARS needed to know who we were dealing with, it was purely professional. Not like I’m stealing money or anything.”

“That’s fair.”

“Why? You gonna lecture me about patriotism or something, Mr. Kennedy?”

“After all this bullshit? I’m the last one to lecture.”

There’s a comfortable silence between them after that.

The silence unfortunately makes Amara more hyper-aware of the wound she waved off earlier. Every step, every vibration from the bottom of her shoes up to her waist made it hurt a little more. In fact, her legs had become a little more unsteady as time wore on. 

There’s a particular tingle in Amara’s muscles that seemed to be spreading. She’d likened it to the prick of needles on her skin or when an acupuncturist pressed those microneedles under someone’s skin or even the momentary loss of blood flow from applying too much pressure to a limb. 

Only problem? None of those were happening at the moment. That scared her more than anything, more than the zombies, or even the gross creatures she’d been fighting with Leon all night. 

She never considered herself one to get anxious about her health, every visit to her doctor gave her a clean bill of health, the standard for a woman in her line of work and her age. 

Hell, she barely ever got a cold but this gash, slash, wound, or whatever it was…is beginning to sting.

Damn it, why doesn’t she just tell Leon? 

It really, really scared her to admit that she may or may not turn into the very thing they’re trying to fight. A monster to be taken down. A mindless thing only craving flesh. That devastated her more than she wanted to let on because that would result in Leon having to eventually be the one to take her out of her misery, and she couldn’t quite accept that reality yet. 

That and the drive she still possessed, the rage of all that had happened—she couldn’t just die having failed her friends, failed the city she’d grown to love, failed in her purpose to be someone to be proud of.  Especially in a world that seemed determined to crush her under its heel.

So, she pushed down the pain once again. They needed to get that sample, and just maybe she could fight whatever is ravaging her body long enough to get out of there alive. 

Leon took the reins on solving the puzzles and passwords, he’d been more watchful of her since that encounter and a more stubborn part of her wanted to remind him that, goddamn it, he didn’t need to but the more in pain Amara relented, telling him she was fine and opting to look through all the computers they came across. 

One, in particular, threw her right back to the night she’d learned of everything. The emails were vaguely familiar to her. 

August 23, 1998

From: 89912309@mutemail.com 

To: jvalentine@aol.com; credfield@aol.com; stars@aol.com

Subject: TIP / Illegal Activity at Umbrella Corporation

You don't know me. Have to make this quick. They might be monitoring.

I’ve been working for a few months as a researcher at Umbrella Corporation facilities underneath Raccoon City. All sorts of NDAs I am very much breaking right now but seriously, fuck these guys.

Terrible things are happening here. Don't understand it. Don't believe half the things I saw.  Colleagues talking about viruses of some sort, creating something that is a perversion of every natural law I know. People are being hurt and Umbrella is making money.

It needs to be exposed.

Dated August 23. Two days before Amara got a call from Roslynn. Before Mayor Harris’ press conference. This is–was John’s computer.

Amara hadn’t seen this email in the files. She saw John’s correspondence with other researchers, questioning the morality of it all, but this one was hidden in folders deep on the desktop. They must’ve intercepted this one quickly, at least he had the sense to keep a backup. 

John’s logs echo the same as the files she’d found in his home office. Talks of test subjects in different trials and their reactions to “chemicals” that resulted in gruesome side effects. 

A beauty cream or medicine doesn’t exactly make your flesh rot off the bone, does it? Just reading about it made Amara’s gag reflex come in full force, but she also could attribute that to whatever flows in her veins.

Opening up the email interface once more, Amara decided to compose something to hopefully someone or someones that could use this information. Attachments and all. It’s what John would want her to do, she’s sure. 

September 30, 1998

From: 89912309@mutemail.com 

To: jvalentine@aol.com; credfield@aol.com

Subject: Don’t waste this.  (Attachment) 

Hopefully, these things find you both well, and find you by an internet cafe. 

Here’s hoping this information is enough. 

She hits send, powering down the computer. That was simple enough for them both. Though, this was assuming Jill already left the city as they planned. 

The East wing housed even more monstrosities if that were possible.

NEST was really living up to its name. Well, the name that Amara christened for it. As far as stupid lines, she didn’t have Leon beat though.

A nest of insanity. 

That made Amara briefly smile to herself again, stupid jokes made the world go around after all.

“How’s the side?” Leon asks, for what felt the billionth time. 

“Leon–” 

“I know you you’re hurting–”

“Please, drop it!” Amara snapped but instantly recoiled at the harshness of her own words. She hadn’t so much as risen her voice like that all evening. Until now, that is. “I didn’t–I’m sorry, Leon…I just want to get this over with. The sample is within reach. Don’t worry about me.” 

“I–fine. But at least let me put some of this medicine, I’m not budging this time. Fair enough?” 

This time, Amara, running on fumes, actually lets him help her.

“Absolutely fair. If it’ll help ease your mind,” Somehow, Amara finds the strength to push herself up on a nearby counter. 

Leon pulls out the said medicine, carefully pulling up the fabric of her shirt. This is probably the second time in the evening that their shared proximity made Amara’s head spin. The first was the hug he gave her earlier. Nobody had handled Amara quite like Leon was, he was gentle and meticulous about cleaning the wound in a way that didn’t have her wanting to wince at every touch. Her mind also couldn’t help but think that he was pretty good with his hands. 

His handling could be said for just about everything between them this evening, both of them seemed to be in sync. It kind of reminded her of Jill and Chris in a sense, those two seemed to be unstoppable when paired up. Amara definitely would’ve recommended Leon for a spot with STARS. Zombie outbreak, notwithstanding. 

“I care about you, more than I should,” he said softly, his eyes conveying a message of true worry that broke her out of her thoughts. 

The words of what she felt towards Leon formed more and more as the night wore on so her next sentence came to her easily.  

“I care about you too.” Leon stands back to full height, placing his left hand in hers and stroking her face with his right hand. “Seems I’ve got my own knight in shining armor, haven’t I?” 

“We’re not out of the tower yet, come on,” Leon pulls away, but gently helps her off the counter.

After readjusting her shirt, she surveys the room. Another lab, nothing special. All the necessary equipment for working with hazardous chemicals and viruses but her eyes happen upon a face…her face on one of the nearby monitors. Had she not glanced around, she might’ve missed it. 

“What the hell?” Her feet carry her over to said monitor. Leon is immediately puzzled by her movement. 

Her headshot from S.T.A.R.S.

She knows it is because she remembers that burgundy-colored shirt. It got stained not even five minutes later with juice Jill gave her that day. Her hair was also way shorter. The staff photographer told her, “You look great.” Though, Amara knew she kind of was running on three hours of sleep that day. 

Upon closer inspection, a file that is extensively detailed is laid out before her. These people needed to learn to close their tabs. Doctor Li seems to be the one that headed up her file. 

NAME: Amara Moore

AGE: 21

BLOOD TYPE: O- 

NOTES: Subject’s blood is fascinating. Her blood type already made her a perfect candidate for blood donation but studying it further has proven it fruitful.

Subject’s blood is predisposed to mutations. Not to mention, her blood response is exciting, implanting her blood with different antigens proved Wesker’s theory correct. 

It’s only a matter of time before we can fully acclimate the subject to what Doctor Wesker wants. How we’ll do that is anyone’s guess. 

That’s when it clicked in Amara’s head. Wesker stole her blood that very day. There was a blood drive that day outside the station, something that was an annual thing and part of the RPD’s community outreach. 

They tested her blood.

He wanted her to survive Spencer Mansion. He wanted her alive for this. Did he know this outbreak would happen? He wanted her to get infected somehow. The world could’ve fallen out from beneath her feet at this moment.

Shit. She’s infected…

…with what?

How could that be possible? That thing slashed her, not bite her. The answer is right before her eyes, yet she can’t process it. Her eyes felt like they had been looking at everything and nothing on the screen.

“You alright?” Leon asks, breaking her eyes from the screen. 

Something in her is screaming to tell Leon now. Tell him this but she stays silent.

“I’m good, just gathering more stuff for the authorities. Mind-boggling.”

“Oh, okay, you just…acted like you saw a ghost or something.” They walked away in silence, passing through a red-tinted fluorescent hall that sprayed out steam against them. More than likely to sanitize whoever walked in and out. Then another, these were blue-tinted. 

Amara examined the room with a slow sweep. Did this place not have one area in it that didn’t look straight out of a sci-fi film? Tanks line the wall, floor to ceiling, cylindrical tanks were what their technical name was. The liquid inside was clear but it was what was inside the tanks that were a little more…horrific. 

Lights inside the tank lit up weirdly misshapen, mangled body parts. One of them contained a form that only had red, huge yet beady eyes on the grey surface of it. Another looked like a set of hands, the last not even remotely resembling anything Amara could recognize as a life form. 

To the left, was their Holy Grail, which they all fought all night to get to. Ada called it G-Virus. 

There it sat, the last vial to sit within the container. 

Leon grabs it without a second thought, “Huh, that was easy.”

Amara’s gut reaction is to hit him in the arm gently. “Don’t say that, you’ll jinx it!” 

“Ouch! Easy with that arm!” 

“Please, I barely grazed you,” A weight lifted briefly for Amara. “Now let’s get the hell back to Ada.”

Just as they reach the other side, inching closer to freedom from this awful place, something crashes through the ceiling. 

Somehow, that thing that put her in this predicament is still alive. Amara rolls her eyes, she was less afraid of it, just more annoyed than ever actually. Does anything die in this fucking place? 

“You again?” 

“Your ass, again?” 

Leon and Amara both aim their guns, ready to go another round with this thing. 

“Move! He’s mine!” Annette visibly limping from some unknown injury, runs between them. “This has to end.” She loads a white, small gun with something. 

“This has to end.” One shot. 

“Sorry, William. You left me no choice.” The second shot is what seems to incapacitate the monster. A monster she called William? Amara and Leon cautiously approach it, though she wouldn’t dare touch it. The smell emanating from it held a pungent, irritating scent.  

It had grown exponentially since their last encounter, more pulpy, fleshy, and sinewy limbs and bits than she’d like, and yeah, certainly still more disgusting. An uncomfortable shudder rolled down her spine just thinking about the fact that she now has the same blood of this thing infecting her veins. 

“You called this thing William, why?” Leon asked Annette, kneeling close to it. She shook her head, looking over the creature that lay before them all. 

“It shouldn't have been like this,” she spoke, though it sounded less like a response to Leon, and more like an observation. “It’s Umbrella’s fault, this whole mess.” 

“You realize that you’re Umbrella too, right?” Amara raises a brow, she found it hard to give the woman the benefit of the doubt. 

Leon questions her more. “You saying you weren’t involved in this?”

“Yes…but we never meant for this to happen!”

“Tell us everything, right from the start.” 

And she does. Starting from the night that a team of soldiers came to retrieve the G sample from William, bloodied and in a rage having injected himself with G to go after them, all the way up to this very moment. Amara can’t help but find herself more intrigued by the developments, not in a good way. Leon seems to put two and two together, probably having found out more than Amara did in their time apart within the sewer facility. 

“So, you made this monster.” 

“We never intended this to happen.”

“You can spin this any way you want, you’re still responsible.” There’s no time to even react as William reawakened, thrashing about so swiftly that all Amara remembers is Annette, the momentum, and then it all goes black. 

Amara finds herself practically embedded into the wall, leaving a dent in its place. She must have passed out briefly. She opened her eyes slowly, letting out a choked cry when her brain registers the pain in her side and back. Someone had to be looking out for her because somehow her back isn’t broken. 

Leon, coming up from a lift, rushes over to her, “Amara, Jesus, are you okay?” 

She gazes up at Leon, vision blurred slightly at the edges but Leon is the clearest thing she can see. 

“You’re beautiful.”

He tries to fight a smile, albeit the worry on his face is more evident. He shines his flashlight briefly into one of her eyes. “And you’re concussed.” 

“No, it’s a c-clear, reason thought…or maybe my vision is a bit blurry.” Amara flashes him a stupid grin, trying to mask the pain. To be honest, that hit knocked all the air out of her lungs, and taking in breaths kind of…hurt. 

She definitely didn’t want to mention the fight earlier and that wound. The last time she looked at it underneath her shirt is when Leon applied the medicine, it looked disgusting but now she can feel it searing through her abdomen, it was a strange hot, and cold sensation. That thing had gotten her twice now. 

“Let’s get you up now, huh?” 

“Yeah, yeah…but I may have to take you up on that offer I offered earlier.” 

Leon doesn’t even hesitate, holstering his gun and carrying her like a bride on her wedding day. She wanted to remind him of the gunshot wound in his shoulder but it was hard to think with the throbbing pain her whole body was producing. “I’ve got you.”

“My hero,” Amara coughs out, still trying to lighten the mood. She just really needed some air to enter her lungs again. 

“We’re going back to the lab.” 

“But-“ Annette. Amara wasn’t the only one hurt, that monster crushed the former–she remembers that much, at least–, a sickening squelch as it squeezed her between its claws, tossing her aside much in the same way except Amara knew it had to be fatal. She called it William. 

Without Annette, what could possibly be done for her? 

Leon went as quickly as he could while carrying her, damn near stumbling against the door to the infirmary as it slid open. He put her down gently on the other cot, Sherry still occupying the other one. 

Claire must’ve left to get the medicine she needs. 

Amara notices a screen near the bed lights up, the readout on it seems to have scanned her. An infrared picture comes up on the screen. A robotic voice reads out what inevitably she didn't want to tell Leon. 

“G-Virus detected in the host.” He was frozen, eyes darting between the screen and her for any sign of deceit. He found none.

“Amara, why didn’t you say anything?” He asks, but Amara didn’t so much as twitch a muscle, Leon frowned. “Shit.”

“There has to be something here…an antidote maybe?” Leon asked her, a crack in his voice she’d never heard before. He asked as if Amara had the answer but she was just as stumped as he was. She wasn’t exactly resigned to her fate, but without Annette, there were no answers. 

“There’s…s-something…” Speak of the devil, Annette barely hanging onto life practically crawls through the doorway. “It’s where–where you found that sample.” 

Annette holds something in her hand. 

Sherry’s medicine. 

Claire comes in not even a moment later, helping Annette as best she can to get near Sherry.

Annette takes a few heaving breaths, “If you want to survive, you’ll need the anti-viral but it won’t eradicate it all…”

“That’s something, right?” 

Oh, Leon, so hopeful, so determined. It’s probably why Amara understands why she likes him so much. He’s unwavering in wanting to help, even if the odds of that happening are slim to none. 

Claire helps Annette a little more as she fights with everything to speak, “Only problem is…hasn’t been tested, it may not work now.”

“Then why–” Amara’s voice is cut off, not even realizing she’s halfway on the floor until Leon has her by the arms. 

“Shit, Amara,” Leon places the back of his hand against her forehead. She’s hot and cold at the same time, she already knows that’s what he’s feeling. “You don’t feel good. Why didn’t you say anything?” He asks her again, desperate to know. 

“I’d rat-rather save the trouble, especially when it feels like I’m dying.” No use hiding it. She was possibly going to die and there was nothing he, she, or anybody could do about it right now. Tragic.

Miscommunication is a uniquely human characteristic that would eventually drive us all to the brink of insanity but Amara didn’t want to give Leon false hope until she knew for certain there was something that could be done. If that anti-viral didn’t work, she’d at least be happy in the knowledge that Leon could be the one to get this info out if she couldn’t. 

Umbrella still deserved to be exposed, especially knowing what they had done to her. 

Her body finally starts to realize that sad fact, so she lies down on the cot. 

In another display of tenderness, Leon runs a hand over the top of her head. “I’ll get the anti-viral, you stay here and rest. We’ll make it through this, all of us.” 

A nasty feeling wrenched in Amara’s gut. Maybe some of them will. 

A burning, almost stinging sensation hits her eyelids and all the events come crashing hard on her body. Rest doesn’t come easy but it came anyway for Amara. 

Both Leon and Claire go in separate directions. They both had their priorities. 

Leon wanted to be angry. But, he just couldn’t. Seeing Amara’s face and the screen that revealed what he inevitably already knew worried him more than anything. 

In fact, he was more worried that Amara wouldn’t make it. A bullet wound is easy to recover from. A virus that turns someone into a zombie, or even worse what Annette’s husband had become? Not so much. 

If there’s one thing he can get right tonight, it’s helping her. Failure wasn’t an option. Not again. He’d already failed Marvin, failed the gun shop owner and his daughter, and now Amara? No, he co-wouldn’t let that happen. 

Time was running out and he needs to get that virus out of her, he needs to help her if not for his own sanity, his conscience. She kept pushing him off, telling him she was fine…like she wanted to waste away and save him the trouble of noticing. 

The thing was…is that he noticed her long before he got here. That brochure, the one she called stupid earlier in the evening, had given him pause on the second read-through. He barely skimmed it the first time but out of boredom, he looked again. 

He did envision a more cool, suave introduction for when he originally was meant to arrive, but that didn’t exactly pan out, did it? 

Leon wasn’t exactly ashamed…okay, maybe a little– to admit he looked over the team photo as he packed up everything to come here–she was just as pretty, just as sweet as he imagined–even now as everything went to hell in a hand basket, a smile ignited in him as he remembered the photo.

Right now, she didn’t look so good and it scared him. That same face, full of joy in the photo was a stark contrast to what she looked like now. 

He should’ve pushed harder, sooner; had he kept the pressure on her, she wouldn’t be in the position she is now. 

It was an easy choice to find the anti-viral. Way better than the alternative of having to choose to kill her or letting her suffer in silence till a painful end. Amara may have wanted him to be the one to pull the trigger but he refused, he couldn’t let anyone else die. Frankly, besides saving the city, he couldn't care less about anything else. 

He needed her to be okay. 

[bi-aragorn]

Missed This

Finally posting stuff I wrote in November what a revelation & also finally posting Umbrella Academy fic! 

Thanks to @jaskierswolf ​for beta’ing this you’re brilliant

Here on AO3

Rating: Teen (could probably have been Gen but eh)

Tags: Platonic Cuddling, Snuggling, Ghost Ben Hargreeves, they hug thats it thats the fic

Et voila it is below

Klaus was sprawled out across the sofa, fidgeting with a ring on his finger, twisting it back and forth, back and forth. The repetitive motion was soothing, a calming contrast to the blur of thoughts inside his head. So much had changed, or at least been revealed lately, but the detail that stuck most clearly in his mind was that somehow he had been able to make Ben corporeal. But he had no idea how he had done it, or how to do it again. Which was exactly the problem.

At the moment, his brother was sitting cross-legged in front of him, staring up at him expectantly as if Klaus could solve all of his problems. Him. Klaus. Renowned disaster, who Ben had had to rescue more times than he could count. It was laughable. Klaus pouted. What he really wanted right now, more than anything, was a hug, but right now he didn’t have anyone nearby he could ask for one- and he could hardly go out and find a random stranger to hug and leave Ben waiting like this. He was a little startled by his desire for physical contact over any other less legal means of comfort, except that he knew he had to be sober, or at the very least not completely out of his head, in order to access his powers. In order to get Ben corporeal again.

Klaus groaned, rolling his head back and letting it flop onto the edge of the sofa.

“It’s hopeless,” he whined, hands flailing as he let go of the ring in favour of expressively waving his arms about. Ben huffed a sigh and Klaus could picture exactly the way he must be rolling his eyes now.

“It’s barely been five minutes,” Ben said, and Klaus startled as Ben appeared in front of him, pouting, brows knitted. “You’ve got to try harder than that. Please?” He looked so desperate and Klaus’ heart twinged- it must mean so much to him.

Klaus pulled himself back upright and rubbed his hands over his thighs, bouncing his feet up and down on the floor.

“Ok, ok,” he muttered to himself, “how hard can it be?”

If he had done it by accident before, then surely it couldn’t be too bad. He just had to think back to what had happened before. Fine- he had been in danger, but that had happened so many times before and Ben hadn’t ever appeared in front of him any of those times. Then again it had been life-threatening.

…Even to Klaus, the idea of putting himself at death’s door to try and summon his ghost brother seemed a bit hare-brained. No, scratch that, there must be something else to it. Klaus thought back to it again. He hadn’t wanted to die, and everything had been so intense- maybe the intensity of the feeling played into it. He could work with that all right- pretty much all of Klaus’ feelings were wild and intense. Like how intensely he wanted a fucking hug right now- had it always been so cold in here? Fuck, but what he wouldn’t give for Ben to be really, truly right there in front of him and be able to just dive forward and-

Klaus gasped as he felt Ben fall right into his lap . He squealed, arms winding straight around his brother's middle, legs kicking up excitedly like a small child and a giddy laugh escaping his throat.

“I did it, holy shit it actually worked!” he yelled, clutching Ben closer, breathing in the scent of him. In his arms, Ben quivered, an overwhelmed gasp falling from his mouth as he wriggled about to wrap his arms around Klaus too. He felt so warm, and real, and fuck but it was perfect.

“Missed this,” he murmured into Ben’s shoulder, snuffling into it, tears tickling at his eyes.

Ben said nothing, only letting out a ragged breath and hugging Klaus tighter, head bobbing against Klaus’ chest where he had snuggled himself in. Klaus sniffled, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay, determined to enjoy the moment for what it was and deal with those pesky feelings later.

Limbs tangled, they lay entwined half on the sofa and half off for a few minutes until Klaus’ back began to protest. He grunted, wriggling, then whining as Ben made to pull away.

“No no no, you don’t escape just because my age is showing,” he muttered. Clutching Ben closer to him, and chucking at the wide-eyed look he received in return, Klaus flung his legs up onto the sofa, hauling Ben with him. “There,” he said, wriggling a little further back to get comfortable, and pulling Ben’s head back to lie flat on his shoulder. “Much better,”

Ben let out a small hum of agreement, eyes slipping closed. He clutched tightly at Klaus’ shirt, thumb running across his back as he savoured the moment, the feeling of being real for once. It was a peaceful moment, the two of them basking in the warmth of each other’s arms, Klaus tracing a finger across Ben’s shoulders and smiling down at him.

“Hey, Ben,” Klaus said after a few minutes, voice heavy with sleep, his eyes beginning to flutter closed. “D’you reckon this will hold out if I fall asleep?”

Ben shrugged. “It’s your power, not mine,” but he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, as he moved to wrap his arms around Klaus’ waist, wriggling lower to rest his head on Klaus’ chest.

“Okay,” Klaus murmured, his grip going slack as sleep won over at last.