'Above them, lit from one side by yellow lamplight and from the other by faded lavender dusk, Willow is a bleach spill of hair over their shoulders and an expression of total vacancy upon their face. The part of their lips reveals a glimpse of pink tongue behind their teeth. They are staring, wide-eyed and gently gaping, blush-touched and obliterated.
āAugust,ā Willow says, distant and shattering like a galaxy expanding, taking space.
August releases the breath that theyāve been holding.
āYeah?ā
āI wanna try something.ā'
i do not ādelete sentencesā when they start āhindering the plotā i COPY PASTE THEM into a SEPARATE DOC made just for keeping all my USELESS LINES that i will also NEVER USE so therefore i should JUST DELETE THEM but i DONT because id FEEL BAD if i did
this runs with a headcanon i have of oriana so if you're reading this and going ?? was this mentioned in game the answer is ahahahah no. slight smut (titty!!)
.
āDo you have a kissing fixation?ā Oriana asks. Jackie huffs against her mouth, pouting like the question is offensive. With her seated half-naked on Orianaās lap any semblance of a complaint does seem rude. "Not that I donāt enjoy it.ā
Jackie leans back to examine Oriana and Oriana examines her in turn. Dark curls pour down her shoulders like rivulets of ink. A strap of her bra droops, allowing her breasts to spill from the cups. Jackie often dresses suggestively, tight fabric paired with dangerously low necklines, but her current state of dress is not a suggestion. It's a promise.
"What did you expect me to do?" She asks. Her teasing tone is familiar, if not laced with something more sultry than usual. "Unless your plan was to bend me over and be done with it."
Oriana flushes. The ceiling is suddenly very interesting. "That is not what I meant."
"Ah, I see. You wanted me to do the bending." Oriana chokes on her own spit. The image claims her mind before she can restrain herselfāJackie's honeyed voice handing out praise as Oriana laid pliant beneath her. Jackie cups her jaw, lowering Oriana's gaze back to what's in front of her. "Sorry, sorry. I forget you're new to this."
Her next words are half-mumbled into Jackie's palm, "I'm not completely inexperienced."
Oriana has had sex. Oriana has had flings. Oriana has also been married, and despite its faults that too was somewhat passionate, if not downright adventurous. And yet, all of these thingsāall of these experiencesāhave been with men. She's asked Jackie to adjust her expectations accordingly, but even if she hadn't Jackie herself has surely seen everything Oriana is not.
Jackie tilts her head. "You're just not used to kissing?"
What an odd question. The answer should be clear and stillā¦
Oriana thinks back to high school. She thinks of short kisses behind the bleachers. Of curious, hesitant lips placed on hers in between fourth and fifth period. Oriana thinks back to her old dorm mate. She thinks of stolen kisses behind closed doors. Of aimless petting abandoned at the first sound of footsteps. She thinks back to the cashier at the corner store of her first apartment. She thinks of sloppy kisses behind racks of candies and chips. Of the one time she asked the cashier on a date, and the sound of her laughter when she said no.
Oriana specifically thinks back to the month after her divorce. She thinks of demanding, hungry kisses slotted between the sink and soap dispenser of a bar bathroom. She thinks of a woman with a sheer dress and dark, fiery eyes who bought her a drink. Oriana remembers beingā¦confused, but enticed. Like whatever the woman saw in her, she wanted to see too.
And yet when their lips locked, she had no clue where to put her hands. It wasn't long before someone walked in and cackled at them, causing Oriana to break away.
"What's wrong?" Jackie asks.
"Nothingā¦" Oriana tries to clear the fog in her brain. "I'mā¦I don't know where to go from here."
"That's okay," she says, soft and firm. Like it's a fact, instead of a conciliation. "We can go slow."
Oriana nods, letting herself fall into Jackie's mouth once more. The pace is exploratory, like the bleachers, and eager, like the corner store. Jackie, however, is her own rhythm and it's a rhythm Oriana learns gradually. She likes a steady, solid pressure and when she parts for air she always leaves a peck, panting for a only second before chasing Oriana's lips again.
Jackie guides Oriana's hand to her breast. She squeezes tenderly, head spinning as Jackie's moan is muffled into her mouth. It's pathetic how horny Oriana feels, roughly palming at her client's chest, unable to escape the way she wants more and more and more of her.
The clasp of Jackie's bra clicks and the garment falls into their shared lap. Oriana wastes no time before latching onto the exposed skin, sucking bruises around Jackie's nipple.
"Oriana." Never has her name sounded so sweet. Jackie wipes the sweaty fringe from Oriana's face and the gesture is so affectionate it's almost hurts. Oriana can't pinpoint why, but she instantly feels the urge to hide. It fills her lungs until there's no where left for it to go.
Jackie unbuttons Oriana's blouse and she shivers as the air hits her exposed neck. Goosebumps raise across her arms.
Every noise Oriana draws from Jackie is like a prize, but when she giggles Oriana can't help but flinch. The noise reminds her too much of the cashier.
"Cold?" Jackie's face is one of pure fondness and it's in that moment Oriana is hit with a rush of embarrassment. It's inexplicable, it's childish, and it's deserved.
What the hell is she doing here?
Oriana slides Jackie off her lap. "I can'tā¦"
Jackie frowns immediately, but her concern only makes Oriana nauseous with guilt. "Are you okay? Oriana?"
Oriana hurriedly attempts to fix her buttons. Everything feels wrong from her hands to her kiss-swollen lips. She disentangles herself from the sheets of Jackie's bed, looking around the room for her discarded keys and phone. "This was a mistake."
Jackie's expression shatters. She clutches her bra to her chest, her voice laced with cracks. "What?"
"I apologize for propositioning you as I did. It was unfair of me to impose my needs upon you. Inappropriate even."
"Oriana you don't have toā"
"I do," she says resolutely. How far could this have gone anyways? A handful of stolen trysts ending in Oriana longing for something she cannot have? Despite her conviction, her gaze stays pinned to the floor. "This shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have let myselfā¦"
"I don't understand." Jackie sounds like she's crying. "Was it me?"
"No, Iā¦goodnight, Jacqueline."
Oriana leaves without a second glance, letting the door shut with a quiet click. She's halfway down the hallway, before her brain can think of anything other than stupid, stupid, stupid. And the switch is good, because at the end of the day Oriana Quinn is not stupid, not really.
She's just a coward.
.
oh babyā¦for everyone who was ready to see oriana getting bent over from my snippetā¦i am so sorry. not today. anyways 8 more prompts to go!!! duckbelle is next!!! (i wrote this instead of sleeping i hope you enjoy the food)
damn i wish u guys could read this fic i haven't written and this fic i haven't finished writing and this fic i'm putting off outlining and this fic i outlined but haven't started and this fic i'll never write and this other fic i haven't written and this fic that exists only in vague impressions in my head that fall apart every time i try to commit them to the page and th
"youve already written that trope" yesss. i like it a lots. i will be writing it again. 1000 stories of the same trope over and over again for ten million years
Ivanna hated the bus the moment the band stepped into it, and as the weeks of the competition went by, her feelings about it didnāt change. If at first that dislike came from the fact that she was forced to share space with people who physically attacked her friends, later on, it came from a much simpler place. Bunk beds of the bus werenāt made for people as tall as Iva was, plain and simple. She had to pull her legs up, her knees pressing into the side of the bus, while she tried to convince herself that the pose was comfortable. Most times, she didnāt sleep between the stops, hoping to catch up on sleep in the hotel where theyād stay, and it meant that she was spending her night in the common area, where she could at least stretch her legs over the couch, while listening to music or writing a new song. But it was silly of her to hope sheād be left alone even in the middle of the night.Ā
Iva didnāt have to look closely into the darkness of the bus to see just who was walking toward her, about to ruin this moment of peace.Ā
āDonāt,ā Iva said in a warning, something that never helped when she was dealing with this particular kind of annoyance.Ā
āDonāt what?ā Blake asked in the most innocent tone, knowing full well how much it irritated Iva. āDonāt come to the common area of the bus we share? It defeats its purpose then, donāt you think?āĀ
Blake stepped closer to the couch, pointedly looking at Ivaās long legs that took over all of the seats. She wasnāt going to move, she wasnāt going to act polite. It was the middle of the sleepless night for her, and the last thing Iva planned was having a pleasant conversation with Blake.Ā
āI think itās rude of you to hog the only normal bed on this bus and not use it.ā
In the light coming through the busās window, Iva could see a mocking smile on Blakeās face, one that was asking, begging to be erased with a slap.Ā
Before she could say anything in protest, Blake lifted Ivaās legs off the seat to give her just enough space to slide under them and leave Iva with a dilemma ā either act squeamish and move her legs away so they wouldnāt touch, or act stubborn and let her legs rest over Blakeās lap. Iva stayed put, just to show Blake that she didnāt care. She didnāt care even more when she felt palms resting against her calves.Ā
āTrouble in paradise?ā Blake sounded as smug as always. āDidnāt I tell you that the power of friendship wonāt keep this band together for long enough to win the competition?ā
āOh, so you do believe we will win! Thatās good to know,ā Iva tried hard to hide the irritation that was about to take over her with a new force. āAnd I would appreciate it if you stop listening in on our conversations. Donāt you have your own band to worry about?āĀ
Ivanna was tempted to move again when she felt a warm hand moving up to her knee, squeezing lightly. She shouldāve worn something else, not the shorts that only went to the middle of her thigh. Not that a thin barrier of fabric wouldāve stopped Blake on her way. It didnāt before, but Iva wasnāt about to think about those times, because those moments made her feel both embarrassed and guilty.Ā
āI can multitask. Besides, if I wonāt take care of my favorite competitor, who will?āĀ
Iva let out a laugh, because what other reaction could she give to this statement? She wanted to be taken seriously, she wanted the band to take the competition seriously, but at times it felt as if she was fighting against the tide. Were they too much of a friends to ever be professional? Or was she just overly pessimistic? Iva didnāt know, but she knew that raising her voice the way she did hours before wasnāt an answer. And it made her feel humiliated that Blake heard it, that she knew Iva was vulnerable. Would she use this knowledge against her in next weekās competition? Yes, surely. Blake wants her band out, she wanted it from the start and didnāt make a secret out of it. She wanted them out even whenā¦
āBut seriously, are you okay?ā
There was something in Blakeās tone Iva rarely ever heard, something soft she couldnāt fully grasp. Her usual light, mocking tone was gone, and for some reason, it only made Iva feel worse. It was much easier when they followed a script ā Blake would annoy her, Iva would annoy her right back, theyād get too close for comfort, and it would end with their lips locked and their hands greedily exploring the skin under each otherās clothes. Yes, as abnormal as it sounded, this was their normal course of action, one that always left Iva feeling guilty yet relieved. Part of her needed this dirty little secret to keep her sane. She was giving up so much of herself to the band, so much to making sure theyād succeed, but this was just for her.Ā
A tense pause stretched in the air, as if both of them knew that it shouldnāt have been happening. Blake went off-script, and Iva wasnāt prepared for it, not at all.
āCan we skip this part and go to making out?ā she sighed. For a moment, Iva felt Blakeās finger squeeze her tighter around her knee, but only for a moment.Ā
āI guess I am just a piece of meat to you,ā Iva didnāt even have to see Blakeās face to know that she was smirking again. It was good, it was how Iva wanted it. Simple and easy.
āIsnāt it the same for you?ā she asked, not waiting for a response.Ā
When Iva went to sit up on the couch and they moved to meet each other in a way that felt far too familiar, she didnāt think about anything else. The competition, the band, the constant pressure on her - all of it was gone, drowned in a heated kiss that shouldnāt have been happening.Ā
The danger of the situation they were in was somewhat freeing. Iva could feel adrenaline rushing through her veins, making the sensation of Blakeās tongue running against hers that much sharper. In this moment, she was a criminal, a traitor, doing something everyone wouldāve judged her for. They shouldāve stopped the first time it happened, she shouldāve known better. But Iva was falling onto Blakeās lips, into her arms, like one would fall into a bad habit, repeating a pattern, making it worse every time the cycle repeated. She didnāt want to think about how far it would go. Iva could allow herself one thing, one weakness to take the edge off, and it was Blake.Ā
It felt like a fever under her skin, the heat that wonāt go away. Blakeās hands were running over her sides, making Iva shudder, and then their bodies slotted against each other just right, and she felt a knee between her legs.Ā
āNo way,ā Iva pulled away. There was still too little space between them, not a chance for her to catch her breath. āWeāre not fucking in the middle of the bus.āĀ
āGotten shy all of a sudden?ā Blake teased, her hand slipping under the fabric to cup Ivaās breast. She wouldāve loved not to react, but her body leaned into the touch. āYou didnāt have a problem when we did it in the clubās restroom. Or when you were so brave and followed me to my room after a party. Why stop now?ā
Iva had a lot to say, she always did, but she had to admit the light caress of Blakeās thumb against her nipple was distracting.Ā
āYou know why,ā Iva mightāve said it, but she wasnāt pulling away, she wasnāt even breathing, allowing Blake to continue touching her. āMy band is right there. Iām not ruining my career, my friendship over you.āĀ
The caress stopped. The light coming through the busās window wasnāt enough for Iva to see Blakeās face well enough, but she could hear a sharp intake of breath next to her.Ā
āFine.ā
It was the only word Blake said before she pulled away completely, leaving Iva missing her touch and, as she realized with annoyance, her presence. Iva could briefly see a frown on Blakeās face as she stood up, ready to leave.Ā
āOh, donāt tell me I hurt your feelings,ā Iva rolled her eyes. It was childish, she wasnāt going to entertain that. āYou wouldnāt be caught dead with me! Letās not pretend this is something itās not.āĀ
āAnd just what is this, Williams?ā Iva wanted to laugh at the way Blake used the same way to distance herself as Seven did. āLet me guess - I should be readily available when you need it, when you want it, but once the moment is over, you couldnāt care less? Is that how you see this?āĀ
Was it wrong if she did? Itās not as if Iva and Blake set up any rules when this situation started. They just went with the flow, and Iva saw no problem in coming to Blake when she needed her, when she had to use some way to stop the pressure she put on herself from crushing her bones.Ā Ā
āYes,ā Iva said sharply, crossing her arms on her chest, while still feeling the ghost of a touch on her body. It was annoying, and she could still feel the heat on her skin, begging to be satiated, but she wasnāt going to give in to it. āWhat else can this be?āĀ
āYouāre right, nothing else,ā Blake let out with a laugh. āThis canāt be anything else.ā
Iva didnāt know what had happened, and she didnāt want to think about it. Why would she? She felt nothing when Blake left her eyesight, returning to bed, and Iva was finally left alone, just like she wanted it. It was good for her, healthy. She wasnāt strong enough to end this affair on her own, and she was grateful that Blake did. There was nothing to grieve, nothing to feel sorry for. She had a good time, and now it has ended. All good times did.Ā
Iva was fine.Ā
She twisted a napkin in her hands tighter, the food on her plate untouched. She looked at the table, and she looked forward. She didnāt look across the room at where Blake was sitting, not affected by the conversation they had the other night or by anything else. Whatever.Ā
āAre you fine?ā Rowan asked. Iva sharply turned to him, and by his reaction, she could tell that her expression must have been full of anger. She wasnāt angry, she was calm and collected.
āYes, why did you ask?ā she tried to make her shoulders relax, make her expression change into something more neutral. Maybe, she succeeded.Ā
āYou lookā¦ I donāt know, pissed off? Did something happen?āĀ
Iva pulled at the napkin in her hands with such force that it tore.Ā
āNo, nothing happened,ā Rowan looked unconvinced by her words. āI mean it. Just thinking about the challenge, nothing else.ā
If only there were a great way for her to release stress. Iva told herself not to look, but she did look, and for the briefest moment her eyes locked with Blakeās. She instantly turned away.Ā
āOkay, if you say so,ā still unconvinced, Rowan gave her an unsure smile and went back to enjoying his breakfast.Ā
Whatever. She had to focus on the competition anyway. Nothing else mattered.Ā
As the week went by, Iva mightāve started to feel it. Discomfort somewhere in her body, an ache in the back of her skull, a rock in her shoe she couldnāt get rid of no matter how many times she tried to shake it out. And Blake was always there, of course. She had to be, it was the damn point - to put them all together and see how they were going to fight for the spotlight, fight each other. Usually, Iva would hold back, try to stay professional, make sure the cameras only got the best of her, but this irritation, this annoyance, was too grand for her to resist.Ā
āIām not worried about this weekās challenge at all,ā she said, making sure everyone around could hear, the cameras pointed right at Ivaās face. āIf Blake is still here, itās clear they havenāt gotten rid of all weak competitors.āĀ
And everyone did hear her say it, just like Iva wanted.Ā
āIf this competition was set up fairly, your little band wouldnāt have gotten in at all,ā Blake happily answered, taking a lot of pleasure in looking at Ivaās face and noticing her expression. To her surprise, what Iva felt was a slight relief. As if that itch she felt since the start of the week was scratched. She didnāt want to think about why she felt this way.Ā
But Iva still felt it, growing deeper and deeper into her, making her angry, making her lose focus.Ā
āNo, this wonāt work,ā she said in frustration, their rehearsal turning into a disaster. āAre you guys even trying?ā
Iva shouldnāt have let her frustration out on her friends. They had nothing to do with the way she felt, but she couldnāt deal with it on her own. She needed something, someone to be there, to use that fire against, to bite and bruise and feel them fight back.Ā
āMaybe you could tell us what happened? Because something clearly happened this week,ā Rowan started, trying to calm the situation, but his even tone only made Iva groan in frustration.Ā
āNothing happened! I just want this to work! And I want us to win a challenge. Is it so hard to understand?ā
Ivaās voice was loud enough to make Rowan wince. Even in her anger, she felt guilty. Her friend didnāt deserve this, he had nothing to do with the way she felt. But maybe she had to do something about it. Admitting that she had a problem was the first step to solving it, right? The second step was much scarier, even in theory.Ā
Stupid.Ā
Iva didnāt have to stalk Blak to know which room she stayed in. Some cosmic irony always put them next to each other. It used to be convenient, but later it became a point of irritation.Ā
This is so fucking stupid.
How hard was it to knock? Especially when Iva knew that standing at the door and doing nothing looked far more suspicious.Ā
How much worse could it get?
She had to do it. Not for herself, and definitely not for Blake, but because she wanted to win. Nothing was more important than her win. And if she had toā¦ no, she wasnāt going to apologize, it was going too far.Ā
Before Iva could change her mind, she knocked. This was going to go great, she could already tell.Ā
Blake was annoyed even before she opened the door, but the moment she looked at Iva, her frown deepened.Ā
āWhat are you doing here? Didnāt get the memo? Weāre done,ā her words were sharp, cutting, and the worst part about it was that Iva absolutely loved it.Ā
āI did,ā Iva pushed back, and there it was, relief. With Blake, she could be as angry as she wanted. There was no need to choose the right words, to hold back. They matched each other in this fucked up way Iva hasnāt experienced with anyone else, and it both thrilled her and scared her. āAnd I donāt accept it.ā
Blake raised her eyebrows in disbelief.Ā
āItās not an option. Thereās nothing you can do with the fact that I donāt want this,ā Blake motioned between them.Ā
āI think you do want this,ā Iva said with confidence, taking a step forward. She was expecting Blake to stand her ground, to tell her to fuck off. Instead, she took a step back, inviting Iva in. āI think you want it almost as much as I want this.ā
And there it was, familiar smirk, one that always infuriated Iva so much, always invited unwanted thoughts into her mind. The door closed behind her with a loud sound, leaving them alone.Ā
āAt least youāre admitting it now. Thatās progress.āĀ
Iva knew that she wasnāt good with saying things out loud, with admitting things, especially the ones of an important kind. What she felt in that moment was too complicated for words anyway. So she took a step forward.Ā
Iva expected Blake to stop her, to push her away, but the moment she pulled her into a kiss, it turned into something she couldnāt expect. She knew angry, passionate, hungry kisses from Blake, the ones that always had an intention to bruise behind them, but what she felt was gentle, unsure, hurt. Iva didnāt try to push harder, she was taking it all, trying to understand. And she did.Ā
Iva pulled away to see Blake looking lost.Ā
āI didnāt mean it like that,ā it sounded childish, wrong, and not enough. āThat night, I know I fucked up.ā
To Ivaās surprise, the grip Blake had on her hips only tightened.Ā
āYou suck at apologies. That was horrible,ā she deadpanned, almost making Iva wish to take it all back, but she didnāt. She messed it up once, she didnāt plan to do it again.Ā
āI mightāve missed you. Maybe,ā Iva couldnāt give more, it felt too big and scary, but expression on Blakeās face told her that she given enough. āNo one makes me angry like you do. No one fights me like you do. Iā¦ appreciate it.ā
Blake looked over Ivaās face closely, as if trying to measure just how sincere she was.Ā
āOh, do you have a ring on you? With how many emotions youāre putting out there, it must be a proposal.ā
Iva lightly slapped Blakeās shoulders, but that only made her laugh and pull Iva closer.Ā
āI missed pissing you off, too,ā Blake confessed. āYou look so much hotter when youāre angry.āĀ
Ivaās smile widened, grip tightening in Blakeās hair. She got a way to get the sweet relief she wanted back, and she had to make sure not to lose it again.Ā
Thereās fanfictionā¦. And then thereās FANFICTION. The kind of shit you happen upon at like 3am or some other ungodly time because you were trying to find a fix for ur fixation at the time and you are just SUCKED IN and every sentence feels like a line of cocaine and it has quotes and imagery that permeate your brain and itās the shit that sticks around in your consciousness forever and it never goes away and itās always going to be one of Those Fics.
5. Whatās your favorite headcanon you use in fics?
does it count if i've only used it once? but my favourite so far is that blake was just a little bit in love with gina when they were teens. just a little. and gina, regardless of how she felt, was never especially on the same page.
11. Whatās a fanfic idea you havenāt done yet?
literally do not know WHERE to start but i'll give you the funny one because while i HAVE already started writing two separate pieces for a series, there's just no way i'll get back around to finishing it i don't think but it it's a multi-work series titled 'game night' and it's about rowan finding a stack of board games on the tour bus and it becomes a tradition (at first very reluctantly) for suture and underground wastebasket to play each other for bragging rights every week. first night is monopoly because you've gotta start strong (and this is when they're actually most likely to shed blood). there's a poker night in there that ends in a pile of clothes.
6. Whatās the detail you wait on bated breath for readers to notice?
ouuuu, this is tricky to narrow down because it's usually the tiny details. i really try not to spoon feed when i write because i appreciate it so much in return, so when i put something in and i have to tell myself 'no, don't draw attention to it, just let it lie' and then somebody comments on it? smooching you through the screen fr i loveeee that feeling.
12. Whatās the hardest thing to write for you?
there's not one specific thing that i can think of, but trying to write for something that isn't at the height of my focus? next to impossible. unbearable, almost. i look back and even re-read old wips sometimes like 'this would be so easy to finish', but i really can't make myself care enough to do it justice.
I thought along with Fanfic Rec Day itād be a good idea to start up an ask meme for writers so they can gush about writing and words and everyone can have a platform to ask writers some burning questions about their work.
Be proud and spread word about your hard work all around, writers! Todayās a day for all of us to appreciate you and your efforts : )Ā
What is your favorite fic you have under your belt?
What is your favorite snippet of dialogue?
What inspired [insert fic]?
Do you prefer writing long or short fics?
Whatās your favorite headcanon you use in fics?
Whatās the detail you wait on bated breath for readers to notice?
How much do you like symbolism in your fics?
How often do people catch onto your little details?
Whatās the fic you like the least?
What would you change if you had it all to do again?
Whatās a fanfic idea you havenāt done yet?
Whatās the hardest thing to write for you?
Do you have a favorite character to write for?
Whatās your favorite shipping fic youāve written? Favorite gen fic?
if you're writing and find yourself thinking 'this is too weird/gross/offputting/esoteric/ambitious/catered to my specific interests + sure to push away a broader audience' that is the devil speaking and it is a lie. you are already firmly on the right path and you need to double down
*taps microphone* hey infamous peeps, how do you guys feel about a gift exchange event? It will both for artists and writers, so do not fret if you are afraid you may not be able to participate!
Gift exchange? Anyone?
AW SICK SIGN ME UP
eeeeh maybe not
Voting ended onJul 22
I would love to do it in summer, since it takes place in summer, but understand if people are too busy to participate!
TREMBLING HANDS FOR WILLOW/SEVEN PLEASE AND THANK YOU šššššš
HI PEARL! THANK YOU! Kept it short hehe.
From the micro stories prompts!
Seven flexed her fingers. Once. Again. Why wouldn't her hand stop trembling. They held hands before. It should be easy to just grab their hand. Honestly, Willow held her hand constantly. They were glued to her side most of the time. So why was it so hard to make that first move on her own.
She looked over to her side where Willow was perched on her bed, typing on their phone with one hand, while the other was laying on their tight. It was just there. It would be so easy to grab it. She felt herself getting upset just looking at it. Seven tried to distract herself by bringing her own shaky fingers to her mouth, chewing on the skin around her nails.
What if Willow would read into it, get spooked, get distanced. Seven's immediately got tense at the thought of that. The thought of Willow abandoning her. What if showing what she wanted from them, would make them think she's too much. That's she's too much trouble to deal with.
All paused when she felt a weight press into her side, softness and Willow's too sweet perfume enveloping her sense.
"Hey, you okay Sev?" Willow was close to her, their face right in her own, their hands already wandering around Seven's waist. "You only bite your nails like this before gigs."
She was just hoping to hold hands and now Willow was tied into her, making her swallow hard. They were always so causal with all this touch. Overwhelming and confusing.
"I'm fineā¦ just stuff with Momā¦" Willow's eyes looked huge and Seven felt like they recognized her lie immediately. But they didn't. Willow blinked at her, and moved their body to hug into her. She knew that Willow was trying to make her feel better, but somehow, the knot in her stomach only got tighter, when their face nestled into her neck.
After a moment, and a long breath, she brought her own hands around Willow's back. Despite the nerves, she always thought Willow fit nicely into her body. She should just take what she can from this. Appreciate this. Maybe she'll get braver soon.
Okay. I was on my beloved AO3 and I saw something that made me do a double take. So, now I really want to knowā¦
What is your AO3 user ID?
Iām an OG user 5 digits or less
Six figures baby!
Iām in the millionsā¦
Remaining time: 13 hours 13 minutes
Iām so curious to see how long people have been on AO3! I know some people have been on there since beta/invite only, but I would love to see what the number is on tumblr!
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
tangentwithtanner
discoholicmusic
prguitarman
amandla
pixelskylines
germansingergirl
