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#I was a teenager once I get it but that’s GONE girl
starhvney · 2 days
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𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟐: 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓!
𝐂𝐖: reader gets stalked and promptly has a panic attack
𝐀/𝐍: guys i did it! i finally got the next chapter out! (she announces to the crowd that has been sitting in the stands for like, three weeks or something)
𝐖𝐂: 6k
𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑: @arienic
𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒
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once again, the weeks seemed to pass by like a blur. this time, however, it was a good blur. ivy and the girls who were suspended eventually came back to regular classes, but when they returned, their reputations were less than savory now in the student body. needless to say, you were left alone, and for the most part, you were met with somewhat friendly faces—at least, the same amount you would’ve had before the drama.
it was like you were back to living a “normal” teenage life again. you had a normal house, you went to a normal school, you had (somewhat) normal friends, and you had a decently normal reputation. for once, in a long time, you didn’t feel like there were eyes on you. not from a self-acclaimed gang. not from obsessive girls.
not from behind the tinted windows of a dark idled car.
soon enough winter break had come and passed, and it wasn’t until well into spring that something interesting happened again (aside from your friends’ general shenanigans, which seemed to always be there as a form of entertainment).
you actually were quite fine with nothing interesting happening, but it seemed general drama was something you never can escape when you're a teenager, whether you wish upon it or not. so when whisperings of prom coming up meet your ears you think the drama that ensues will pass right by you, especially since it was only the upperclassmen who got to go.
but, of course, that was not the case.
“kate?”
your usually confident and thick-skinned friend zoned out at her reflection in the mirror, not really staring at herself but instead seeming to be in a distant world as you washed your hands. normally, you wouldn’t question the behavior. you yourself were not immune to zoning out and daydreaming from time to time.
but this was different.
katelyn usually had so much energy, and she always seemed to be in the present, ready for the next thing and on to the next subject to talk about. but she had been quiet all day today, barely managing any smiles and seeming absent from every conversation your friends had. it had been a month since she’d told you the news that she and jeffory had broken up, and while she definitely seemed upset, she had held up pretty well in acting like she wasn’t.
it was a little unnerving seeing her like this.
“katelyn.” you call for her again, your previous ask for attention seeming to have gone completely over her head.
“hm?” she hums, taking a full five seconds to turn her attention to you.
“what’s wrong?”
she blinks, shaking her head. “nothing.”
you note the dark circles under her eyes.
“kate.” you sigh, turning fully to her and leaning on the sink, giving her a knowing look. “you gonna hide something from me of all people?”
her nose twitches, the tip of it turning red as her bright blue eyes gloss over.
“…jeffory and i were supposed to go,” she says, her voice breaking as she blinks away her tears, showing you a prom flyer that had been crumpled in her hand.
“oh...” you murmur.
how does one comfort a friend in a situation like this? she hadn’t even told you the reason for their break up, merely saying it was “complicated” and that it was pretty peaceful. still, she seemed so upset about it even now. she suddenly brings a hand to her mouth, shaking her head as she tries to keep her strong front. very quickly it’s crumbling though, and you sigh her name at the sight. stepping forward, you pull her into a hug, one she quickly reciprocates with a shaky sniffle.
“oh, kate. it’s okay.”
the bathroom door squeaks and you quickly spin her to where her back faces whatever girls came in, hiding her teary face from sight. it’s probably very clear something was up, but you could only hope it’s not too noticeable.
“what’s going on in here?” teony’s voice curiously carries through the air like wind chimes.
lucinda comes after, her tone teasing as the clicks of her heels approach the other side of you. “a cute girl group hug with no invite…?”
both of the girls lose their steam when they catch a glimpse of katelyn’s expression, their faces falling into concern.
teony sighs. “oh, no. what happened?”
katelyn merely shakes her head, resting her cheek on your shoulder as she hunches over you like a wilted flower. turning your head to them, you point down at the prom flyer that had flitted down to the ground with a small grimace.
“aw, katelyn. you shouldn’t be crying over this…” teony says, reaching forward to rest her hand on the weeping girl’s shoulder.
“no, she shouldn’t.”
you raise your eyebrows at lucinda’s blunt lack of sympathy in her response, her lips pursing as katelyn’s watery eyes glance over to her with a sniffle.
“katelyn, snap out of it. it's been a while since you guys have split up. you need to pick yourself back up.”
you blink wide-eyed at the ginger, eyes flicking to teony who sighs under her breath.
“now, lucinda, you know—-”
the bathroom door squeaks again, and aphmau’s cheery smile skips right on in, happy hums leaving her mouth.
“oh, there you guys are! guess who just got asked to prom!” she cheers, freezing with an abrupt click of her heels on the tile when her eyes land on katelyn’s.
katelyn’s breaths shake before she once more breaks down into tears, slumping over your shoulder.
the three of you shoot an annoyed “are you for real?” look to the freshman, one she returns with a sheepish squirm and awkward smile when she realizes her blunder. slowly she walks up to your and katelyn’s sides, hugging onto the both of you.
“i’m sorry! don’t cry, don’t cry! shhh…”
lucinda rolls her eyes with a groan, before very suddenly pulling you and aph away from kate and lightly shoving her shoulder back, making the girl stumble. “alright katelyn, that is enough! where is that spunky girl who wants to kick my ass all the time? come on, girl. don't you want to fight?!”
katelyn frowns, her puffy lips pouting in annoyance as she catches her footing and shoots a glare at the sudden… attack.
what kind of comforting method is this, luci? you deadpan, looking to the other two girls who seem equally as taken aback.
“lucinda, i don’t think now is the time–” aph starts, before jumping at katelyn’s sudden grunt of annoyance.
“fine! let’s go!” she starts, beginning to march quite aggressively toward the girl.
this may be the most bizarre therapy session you’ve ever witnessed.
“that's the spirit.” lucinda grins, seeming to get hyped at the return of katelyn’s hot-headedness as she lightly bounces on her heels. “come at me, bro! we'll fight until your arms become marshmallows.”
the blue-haired girl’s steps stutter and her shoulders slump, her determination immediately deflating. “jeffory... loved marshmallows.”
“really?!” lucinda throws her arms up in exasperation. “you’re joking!”
“great job. you made it worse.” aphmau deadpans, before shimmying up to katelyn’s side and pulling her into a hug once again. “it’s okay, come here. let me hold you, kate…”
lucinda rolls her eyes. “aphmau, we can't baby her through this!”
“it’s not babying, she’s in her feels!”
“alright, ladies!” teony suddenly says, sounding similar to a judge calling for order. “that’s enough. i know what needs to be done!”
you’re unbelievably grateful for teony’s aptitude for leadership—especially in this moment.
“lucinda, it's not babying. katelyn needs our help, and we need to be there for her,” she says, hands on her hips and an assertive expression on her face. “after school today we’ll go on a friend date with the whole group to get her mind off of things. a little pick-me-up, if you will.”
“i guess you're right… it does break my heart to see katelyn like this.” lucinda sighs, her bristled front melting to show the spark of concern in her eyes as her own shoulders slump. “we have to do something.”
katelyn looks around at the four of you, wiping her nose with her hand and sniffling before reluctantly nodding. “alright, i guess…”
you shoot her a sympathetic smile, placing your hand on her arm. “there you go.”
aphmau hums, looking over to teony. “so, what are we going to do?”
the academic weapon grins, a plan seeming to have already brewed in her mind. “don’t you guys worry. i’ve gotten it all figured out. just meet me in the parking lot after school.”
“the mall?” you raise your eyebrows, glancing around at the amount of people who seem to be in on this. did teony call the whole avengers squad for this?
not only was the obvious here—teony, lucinda, katelyn, and aphmau—but somehow from this afternoon when teony made the plan she also wrangled nicole, nana, garroth, laurance, and vylad, as well as… dante and travis? this is… an interesting mix for sure. though, based on the passive looks on nicole and nana’s faces, they don’t seem too bothered by the blue haired flirt being present in the group. that’s good, at least.
“yep! a friend group date is long overdue anyways, right?” teony grins, patting a still downcasted katelyn on the back as she walks to her car, sitting a wink over to aphmau. “plus, i promised aphmau i’d take her for a ride in my car sometime.”
“really?” aph gasps, running over to the yellow convertible in excitement. “i can ride with you?”
“mhm, and there’s room for one more…” she shoots you a pointed look, waggling her brows in suggestion.
from the corner of your eye you see nana, her fangs peeking from her bottom lip as she looks at teony’s cute bug in wonder. aw.
“that’s okay. it looks like nana really wants to go with you. i can catch a ride with someone else.”
the meif’wa squeaks in surprise, looking between you and teony with sparkles in her eyes, before hugging onto your arm. “really?”
“well aren’t you sweet?” she tilts her head affectionately, waving over the meif'wa. “come on, then!”
“guess i’m just chopped liver.” nicole scoffs, crossing her arms as she watches the girls run ahead.
“you can ride with me, sweetie,” lucinda coos, waving her keys between her polished fingers before glancing to you. “my car’s a two seater, though. sorry, i guess you’re stuck with the boys.”
“stuck with us? she’s pretty lucky!” dante protests, appearing next to you quite suddenly.
nicole snorts, not even glancing back at him as she continues walking. “you keep telling yourself that, bud.”
you raise an eyebrow as he visibly deflates.
travis snickers from behind the two of you. “damn. you just took that, huh?”
“oh, shut up.” he sighs, turning and delivering a weak looking chop to the other boy's stomach.
shaking your head, you look over to the more reliable ones of the group. “so… can i ride with one of you?”
“duh, of course you can.” laurance smiles, reaching over to pat your hair. “garroth has been driving a cadillac suv, so we have enough room for everyone.”
the nepo baby in question sighs at laurance’s dramatic jazz hands as he mentions the luxury car brand. “it’s my mom’s.”
“okay, well i was literally an orphan in foster care—”
“why do you do this to me?”
“i call shotgun!” dante calls, dashing around to the passenger side before garroth can even unlock the suv.
“hope you don’t mind sitting next to me?” vylad nudges you with his elbow, his round cheeks squishing into a dimpled smile.
“of course not.” you round to the other side, jumping up into the back seat as vylad gets in himself.
“scooch, you.” laurance taps at your legs, pointing at the middle seat.
“sure,” you shimmy over, only to nearly get clocked in the face by travis’s shoe as he crawls over vylad to get to the very back seats. “damn!”
“my–! bad–!” the braced teen grunts, a small thud coming from behind you as he flops down between the seat and the floorboard. “ah!”
“you could’ve just asked me to move the seat.” vylad laughs, glancing back without much concern at the boy. “you’re just as bad as zane is, making everything harder than it needs to be.”
“i know he’s your brother, so no offense, but please don’t compare me to him.”
“...none taken.”
“oh, yeah. speaking of which, where's zane?” you speak up, looking from vylad to the oldest ro’meave brother.
“he was feeling kinda sick today, so he stayed home. had a cold, i think,” he says, pausing before looking at you through the rearview mirror. “by the way, is katelyn… okay? teony told me she kinda put together this whole hangout to lift her spirits.” 
“yeah… she just got kinda upset now that everyone’s talking about prom since she and jeffory were supposed to go together.”
you jump as travis’s hands slap onto your headrest, his messy white hair appearing from behind you as he gasps at the news. “wait, she’s single now?!”
genuinely you cannot stop yourself from slapping your palm right onto your forehead.
“calm yourself,” laurance scoffs. “she won’t be jumping into your arms anytime soon.”
“anytime soon, but it could be anytime,” he meekly says under his breath, tapping his fingers gently onto the headrest.
“learn from me and i bet you could bag her easy.” dante smugly turns around wagging his brows.
“you fumbled not one, but two cute girls at the beginning of this year,” you deadpan, crossing your arms and leaning forward with a stink eye. “travis doesn’t need a single crumb of advice from you.”
laurance starts to snicker from behind you as dante’s face falls into a pout before he slightly recovers, gathering some dignity. “hey, but i got them.”
“and then fumbled,” vylad adds, the simple and cheerful tone of his voice making garroth and travis join in on the laughter.
you’re unable to hide your amusement as well, especially when you see even dante cracking—the corners of his lips wobbling. “okay, yeah. damn, you got me. but i did learn from that. i actually don’t feel good about it.”
“good, you shouldn’t,” garroth scoffs, reaching over to flick the side of dante’s head.
after more… interesting topics truly only teenage boys could conjure up in the car, you were finally at the mall and stepping onto the tiled floors of the building. light filtered from the huge skylights above through the tree and garden installations in the center of the large building, the sight refreshing through all the different smells and noises of the shops around. 
your feet quicken their pace as you race up to katelyn’s side, linking your arm with hers as your voice lowers to a whisper. “how do you feel?”
bright blue eyes dart to yours, the whites of her eyes still a bit red and irritated from her earlier upset. she opens her mouth to speak, before shrugging with a quiet sigh. “i appreciate the thought, but i don’t know how i feel about everyone being here right now. i feel like it’s obvious i’m upset. it’s kind of embarrassing.”
you shake your head, lightly pushing into her. “don’t be embarrassed. we’re all here because we want to hang out with you and make you feel better. a lot of people don’t have good friend groups like this. i know i didn’t before i came here.”
she looks down, seeming to let the words soak in before she glances back to the rest of your friends, a small smile tugging on her lips. “yeah… it’s been a while since i’ve hung out with some of those dorks, anyways.”
a wave of relief washes over you, and you thank whatever part of your brain that managed to conjure up the eloquence to say something successfully comforting. “that’s the spirit.”
“um, hi, katelyn!” travis rushes up to her other side, making her jump in surprise.
“oh, hey…”
“i know you’re feeling down, and i just wanted to say—i mean, ask! are you an angel?”
“huh?” she blinks.
“cause you must have fallen straight from heaven.”
“wh—“ she stutters, before a few chuckles leave her lips. “you can’t be serious. that’s the lamest joke in the book.”
travis’s eyes widen and his shoulders seem to stiffen up in confidence, the boy seeming to be energized by her smile. cute. 
“i… i’m trash!”
“what?” she laughs in confusion.
“so can you take me out?”
katelyn continues to giggle, her laughter lightly carrying through the air. “that’s a good one.”
“are you a camera? cause i smile every time i look at you.”
the smile on katelyn’s face lasts for most of the ventures through the mall, her mind seeming well distracted from running through the arcade to eating snacks from the vendors—until your group walked by an outlet store with their beautiful prom attire on display.
“ooh, look at those pretty dresses!” nana suddenly squeals, pointing to the display with all different kinds of dresses in the window. “aw… i wanna go to—”
aphmau, who’d been eyeing the dresses herself at the front of the group, spins on her heels with wide eyes and sends a high pitched “mew!” to the meif’wa.
lucinda looks up from her phone, a quizzical look on her face. “why you just… meow?”
“she’s stopping her from mentioning prom cause of jeff—”
you stop in your tracks, waving your hands wildly. really?!
teony bites her lip, slowly shrugging up her shoulders with a guilty look on her face. “oops…”
for as smart teony is, she totally slipped that up!
kate looks down, and the whole group freezes up, almost seeming to collectively hold their breaths. after a few moments of tense silence, her voice comes out… uncharacteristically quiet. “i’m done with the mall for today.”
no, no, no! she was doing so good!
“uh, the park!” you blurt, causing the whole group to turn to you rather than the fresh coat of tears gathering in katelyn’s eyes. “i think after all this time inside we should go enjoy the park. it’s just down the road.”
“good plan,” laurance smoothly says, clapping garroth’s shoulder as the boy tosses his keys up in his hand—the rest of the group slowly nodding along. “a walk would be nice.”
and it was a good plan. a breath of fresh air in the warm spring breeze leaving not much to think about except for the large old trees overhead and the people nearby playing… volleyball!
it seems teony had the same idea, as she very quickly suggested a quick little match to get katelyn’s spirits lifted again. glancing up at the girl, your shoulders sag when you see the disinterested look on her face as she shrugs.
“i don’t really feel like playing right now,” she mutters, making teony’s draw drop in shock.
“well, i see those kids over there playing soccer. i’m gonna join them if anyone else wants to,” laurance says with a small wave, prompting aphmau and vylad to eagerly follow as he jogs over to the nearby field. travis stares at katelyn for a few moments longer as dante runs off after them, the boy’s eyes round with worry before he reluctantly starts walking over, too.
lucinda scoffs. “okay, katelyn, are you really—”
“we’ll be right back,” you quickly interrupt, looping your arm with the heart-aching girl and beginning to walk over towards the bridge nearby before lucinda can use any more of her “tough-love” tactics.
the stone bridge was beautiful, and the architecture seemed like it had been built long ago, though new supporting renovations had been made since then. you lean onto the railing and stare down into the lazy flowing river below, the gentle sounds of the water going along the riverbank filling the silence between the two of you. katelyn leans over, too, staring down at her warped reflection down below and letting the wind flick her hair wherever it decided.
“why’d you both break up?” you ask quietly, studying her side profile as you wait for an answer. 
katelyn truly was pretty, her straight nose and starking eyes framed by powder blue hair, and a few stray freckles dotting her pale cheeks. on top of that, she was a good friend–despite her occasional hot-headedness–and was pretty strong in her loyalty. from what you saw from jeffory, you can’t imagine he’d have done something to hurt her, but you’re kind of tired of not knowing the whole story, either.
“i… i was the one who broke up with him,” she whispers, sniffling as tears begin to stream down her face.
you frown. so it wasn’t a mutual thing. “why?”
“he just—it’s gonna sound so stupid.”
“it’s not stupid. you don’t cry over nothing.”
she lets out a deep sigh, swiping away the tears from her cheeks in an attempt to compose herself. “he was just too nice.”
“huh?”
she looks over, shrugging as her chin wobbles. “i dunno. i just kinda felt bad about myself when i was with him. and it’s not fair to him 'cause that’s not his fault that he’s so perfect.”
you’re speechless for a good few moments. “what are you talking about? like, you don’t think you’re good enough for him or something?”
her head dips down, a shaky breath leaving her lips. “no, it’s… like i can do no wrong when i’m with him, even when i’m clearly in the wrong on something, he just agrees with me on everything and never has an opinion on anything.”
understanding dawns on you, and you slowly nod. “he was a great boyfriend, but your personalities just didn’t mesh.”
she looks up at you eagerly, nodding. “yeah. i need someone who can, i don’t know, challenge me? contrast my… stubbornness.”
you snort. “y—”
“yes, i’m admitting to it,” she quickly cuts you off, a small smile wobbling through her tear-stricken face. “i know i can be pretty hard-headed, and i need someone who won’t just let me push them over on everything.”
“i understand,” you say, reaching out your arm to pat her back. it trembled with every shaky breath she took.
“thank you.” she sniffles. “i just… feel so guilty about it. and i am upset, i really liked him—do like him. he’s so sweet and deserves the best and i just feel like i can’t give that to him.”
at that, she seems to break apart again. she’s really holding all of this on her shoulders.
“oh, kate. you don’t need to feel guilty about it. some things are just not meant to work out, and it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. you both could even still be friends after all of this, i’m sure of it. he won’t hate you for this.”
her shoulders wrack. “i know he won’t, which is why i feel so bad!”
“shh, just breathe.” you worry, rubbing her back some more. “here, i’ll go grab you some water so you can calm yourself a bit, okay?”
she gives you a weak nod, letting her hair fall to hide her face as she lets her teardrops fall down into the river. you let yourself stand for a moment to watch her, your heart squeezing for your poor friend as her mind continued to batter her emotions into a pulp.
as you turn to make your walk, you’re intercepted by garroth, who seemed to have idly waited by the edge of the bridge, looking on in worry. “hey…”
“hey.” you sigh, glancing back at kate–who was still hunched over the stone railing–and back at the blond. “she’s really going through it.”
“yeah, i can tell.” he frowns, his eyebrows pulled together. “do you think… uh…”
you tilt your head at his sudden sheepishness. “hm?”
“i was thinking of a friend to invite with me as my plus one to prom, and i honestly was debating asking you… but i was thinking maybe inviting katelyn would be nice. to take her mind off of jeffory,” he says, and your eyebrows shoot up on your forehead.
“wait, what? but i thought only sophomores and juniors get to go.”
“i'm only going because my teacher is on the host staff and asked me to help.” he shrugs. “plus, i get extra credit for it.”
“oh… that makes sense,” you murmur.
“yeah, sorry. guess i shouldn’t have told you i thought about inviting you only to say sike! nevermind!” he snorts, his voice turning comically goofy at the end and consequently making you burst into giggles.
“oh, my feelings are so hurt, garroth. how could you break my heart like this? i’m just a second choice to you?”
he shakes his head, his prince charming smile wide on his face. “no, no! never! my sincerest apologies.”
your amusement calms, and you pat his arm. “seriously, i think that’s a good idea, actually.
“okay. i thought it would be nice, but i wanted your opinion first. didn’t want to make things worse, you know?” he scratches his head, glancing over to kate.
“yeah. and it is really nice. you’re so sweet, garroth.”
the tips of his ears slowly turn red, his eyes darting down to the sidewalk. “thanks…”
“well, maybe you can go talk to her now. i’m gonna get her some water real quick.”
he nods, blond curls bouncing along with his head. “yeah, yeah, okay. i’ll go do that.”
you watch with a fond smile as he jogs over to katelyn, his hand gently ruffling her hair and making her jump in place. he was so thoughtful.
the vending machines near the restrooms wasn’t much further, and you glance over to watch just as laurance was completely demolishing those kids and scoring another goal on them. this was the same one you had gone to grab a water for zane, when he’d gotten hit in the face with aphmau’s lethal soccer kick. you wonder if he’s still looking up to gene, or if maybe he’s grown out of whatever horrid phase he was in.
you chuckle under your breath at the thought of the little emo ro’meave. though, little was an understatement. at the rate he’s been seeming to grow, he might even manage to end up taller than garroth. still, his attitude is enough to make him little in your eyes, as hilariously demeaning that sounded. you’re sure if you said it to the boy’s face he’d throw a whole string of insults your way.
as you wrinkle your nose at how fondly you thought of the little brat, your eyes catch jet black sitting in the parking lot ahead, its engine idling lowly. your blood drains from your face as you freeze in place, breaths shortening as your eyes slowly drift up to confirm what you just saw.
suv. jet black paint. jet black windows. dark headlights. facing right at you.
no. that’s not them. breathe.
why is it on? who’s in there?
“just act normal. i’m okay. i’m okay,” you mutter under your breath, shakily taking in your next breath as your finger slips and you click for a gatorade instead of water. “shit.”
you tear your eyes away from the vehicle, bending down to grab the drink with trembling hands before quickly standing again and looking ahead once again.
there’s a man. where have you seen him before? he looks so familiar. tan… dark eyes from what you could see in the distance you were at… brown hair… kinda tall. he looks pretty average, but you can swear you’ve seen him before. and he’s looking right at you.
the gas station. when you’d been there with gene. you’d seen the same suv then, too.
your heartbeat picks up, hands going cold and sweaty and throat tightening.
is that him? the one from before? did he find you again? why is he showing his face to you now?! IT’S HIM!
it almost felt like you were outside of your body, your face and limbs gone completely numb as you held eye contact with him. your vision blurs, and you can barely keep track of him as he slowly walks over to the passenger side of the black vehicle. as you blink to regain your sight, you see that that blank look on his face is gone, instead replaced with a taunting smile as he tilts his head.
IT’S HIM. CALL FOR HELP. SCREAM FOR GARROTH, KATELYN, SOMEONE.
one of your hands reach up from the gatorade, tightly gripping onto the locket zianna had given you.
a boy walks up to the man, standing just shorter than him. he was a werewolf. silver piercings on his ears glinting in the sun and a streak of blue running through his bangs.
who is he? he looks young. but is he in on it? he could be. was that his son?
his eyes shift to you, and you watch as they widen at you, his expression shifting into something… uncomfortable? scared? you can’t quite place it, your own brain going too haywire to associate anything with anything else. he turns from you and quickly gets into the car, not giving you a second glance.
you can’t hear anything but ringing in your ears and the sharp breaths that you struggled to take in. the man slowly opens up the passenger door, before slinking into the vehicle and disappearing inside.
you hear your name muffled against your left side, before a firm grip clasps on your shoulder.
“no!” you shout, whipping towards your assailant and whacking their arm away, stumbling back as the gatorade falls to the ground, rolling from your feet.
garroth stands shocked, his hand still held out to you and eyes wide. katelyn, stood a step behind him, has an almost identical expression. 
“woah… it’s just me,” he says, voice low and eyebrows pulling together. “why are you so scared?”
you blink rapidly, shaking your head and looking back to the vehicle. garroth and katelyn follow your line of sight, and as their eyes land on the suv it backs out of its spot, before quickly driving away.
“what? who was that?” katelyn mutters.
you shake your head. it’s so hard to breathe.
garroth’s hands land on your shoulders again, and instead of fear you feel comforted by their strength. you tear your eyes from the empty parking spot, looking up at him.
“please. talk to us. you said we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other anymore.”
katelyn picks up the gatorade, pointing to the nearby bench. “she looks like she’s having a panic attack, or on the verge of it. let’s let her breathe for a second.”
garroth’s face twists in guilt, before he slowly nods. “yeah, sorry.”
guiding you over to the seat, he sits next to you while katelyn takes the spot on your other side. you stare forward at the field, listening to the distant sound of your friends’ cheers and shouts as they run around in the grass. it takes a while. a minute. or two. maybe even five or ten. you’re not sure. garroth and katelyn don’t speak, letting silence sit between the three of you and merely exchanging worried glances when you take in a particularly sharp breath. finally, your breaths calm to a slow pace and your shoulders slightly relax, letting you slump back to rest on the bench properly.
“...i moved back here. because of him,” you say, voice more hoarse and whispered than you expected it to be.
“him?” katelyn asks, her head whipping to look back to the parking spot like the suv would still be there. “in that car?”
you nod slowly.
garroth sighs, his eyes trailing down to the necklace that you still had clutched between your fingers. you didn’t even realize you were still holding onto it. stiff fingers release the locket from its confines, your nails leaving deep imprints on your palms.
“i don’t know everything… but my mom kind of told me the reason why you were here. that you had a stalker?”
katelyn quickly looks back at you. “what?”
you take in a deep breath. “yeah. it was that same vehicle. i’ve been seeing it again. i keep thinking i’m just overreacting but…”
you gulp, blinking more tears away again. “i think it’s the same from before. i don’t know how they found me. he found me. i thought i could at least be safe for a year—”
“you are safe,” garroth says, wrapping his arm loosely around your shoulder. the firm and sure way he said it almost makes you believe it. “as long as you’re with us, you’re safe.”
katelyn nods. “i… had no clue. but garroth’s right. we won’t let anything happen to you.”
you shake your head slowly, folding your legs up to your chest. “it’s been happening for so long. i’m so tired of being scared.”
“...why haven’t you told any of us yet?” katelyn murmurs, setting her arm on top of garroths as she also hugs you.
“i didn’t want to draw attention. plus, i didn’t want anyone to know. i wanted to leave it all behind. start over. but he won’t let me.” your nose pricks as tears fall down your cheeks again.
garroth sighs under his breath, the sound tense and almost… angry?
“i’m sorry,” he mutters, glancing up at katelyn before resting his cheek on your head. “i hate seeing you so scared, but i’m glad you told us. from the sound of it you can’t ignore it anymore, and you need us to help and protect you.’
“and we will,” kate adds.
you stare blankly ahead at the field, and take in a deep breath when you see laurance looking over, squinting to get a better look at the three of you with a frown on his face.
“please don’t tell anyone. you can tell our close friends, but i want this to stay a secret...”
“of course,” garroth quickly says. “wasn’t even thinking of telling them until you said anything. this is more than just a small secret.”
katelyn nods, her voice quiet as she seems to process everything. “yeah…”
“and don’t treat me differently,” you mutter, finally looking them in the eyes. “okay?”
they both nod, eyebrows pulled together.
you sigh, looking forward again. “so. you going to prom together?”
garroth guffaws and kate makes an audible noise of shock.
“you just told us the most traumatizing ongoing experience of your life, and that’s how you ease out of that conversation?”
“are you?”
katelyn slowly nods, trying to calm her face into a more pleasant expression. “yeah… garroth actually made me laugh with that stupid voice he does.”
“the hur-dee-dur one?”
garroth laughs, not sounding all that amused but still giving an attempt at it. “yep, that one.”
“good. i’m glad. i think it’ll be fun.”
he nods. “yeah. you know… laurance is a part of the helping crew too. maybe he can take you and we can all go together. that would be a lot of fun, huh?”
you stare in thought, noticing that the boy himself was starting to walk over from the field. you hadn’t even let the thought of attending prom cross your mind, but the thought of dressing up with your friends at a party you technically weren’t supposed to be at sounded like something from the teenage experience you had been craving since you got here.
“yeah. that would be fun.”
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It's Nice To Have A Friend
Chapter 6.1: My Words Shoot To Kill When I'm Mad
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Summary: Fate is cruel on how it goes about obtaining its desires. It must be fate, because there is no other explanation for how perfectly molded Y/N and Helaena are to one another. They complement one another like opposite sides of a coin. Where Helaena is shy, Y/N is outgoing. Helaena has a photographic memory. Y/N has emotional inteligence. They have the right temperament to be the missing piece in one another’s lives. Ying and Yang. Then there are the boys. Love them or hate them, they’re there. Even the adults cannot escape the Targaryen chaos, and the fallout doesn’t spare the minors simply because they’re adolescents. Follow how Y/N and those around her carve out lives for themselves amongst the weight of the Targaryen legacy in a modern Westeros.
Word Count 7.9K
Pairings: Aegon x Y/N, Aemond xY/N, hints of Jace x Y/N, Platonic! Helaena x Y/N, Father Figure! Harwin x Y/N, Mother Figure! Rhaneyra x Y/N, Mother Figure! Alicent x Y/N
Warnings: 18+ you’ve been warned
Lots of profanity, sexual innuendos, drug and alcohol use, boys being stupid jerks, infidelity, divorce, you get some smut this chapter!
A/N: Chapters drop on Thursdays. Please, please, please, please share your thoughts. I wanna hear them. I don't bite, promise!
Sereies Masterlist
By Y/N and Helena’s junior year, everyone seemed to settle down. Alys, bless her, remained with Aemond. Jace was too busy chasing his tourney aspirations to chase any girl. Alicent met a woman from Volantis. Not so little Joffery and Daeron were teenagers now. Currently, Y/N entertained a sweet Dornish boy, Lewlyn. Just like Aegon suggested, she found someone who honored how special she was. Helaena was accepted into a prestigious zoology study abroad program.
The program was a semester long. They’d spend about a month in each location: the Summer Isles, Naath, Valyria, and Pentos. You’d think it was an odyssey, the way Helaena and Y/N clung to each other in the days leading up to her departure. The excitement was bittersweet and anxious.
“We’ve never parted longer than a week since we met.” Helaena paused her packing to talk through her unease. It was true. Never had they gone longer than a week where they weren’t within walking distance of one another. They not only talked every day, but saw each other as well. Though Helaena technically had Rhaenyra, when she thought of her sister, Y/N came to mind. Was it dependency? Or was it the truest love one could ever know?
“I know.” Y/N sighed. She was equally as nervous, but she tried to hide it. She didn’t want to add to Helaena’s stress. “But we’ll talk every day, and video chat, and you’ll have the most amazing time!”
When Y/N moved in with Harwin, she was numb- frozen in a moment of time she’d never fully escape. Then she met Helaena. Though she couldn’t replace Y/N’s parents, it felt like someone stepped into that void. Once again, Y/N had someone who she wished to make proud, laugh, and happy. Someone was there. It was like she slowly awakened form a sleeping curse. She came back to life.
Helaena was fiddling with the fabric of a shirt yet to be placed in her suitcase. A manifestation of her anxiety. “I’m just worried that I won’t know what to do with myself. No one else knows me like you do.”
Y/N tenderly smiled as she struggled to keep tears from forming. “And you know me like no one else. But this is it Hels, this is the start of everything you’ve ever wanted.”
Though downcast, Y/N could see Helean’s lips turn upwards but quickly back down. “I just worry that I can’t do it on my own. I’m so different from everyone else, and-”
Y/N was on her feet and striding towards her best friend, her sister. She took the shirt from Helaena and intertwined their hands, giving a reassuring squeeze. “No, you can do it. You’re different and that’s how you got in and that’s why you can.”
Helaena gathered Y/N into a rapid hug. The compression from squeezing chest to chest significantly calmed their nerves. Helaena’s chin was propped on Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N had her’s facing away and leaning against Helaena. “Thank you for always believing in me.”
“Thank you for being my family.” Y/N was glad that she faced away from Helaena as she couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They flowed like a quiet stream.
“Are you going to be alright without me?” Helaena’s voice was mumbled and it brought out her concern even more. 
“Yeah, yeah.” Y/N took a deep breath and chuckled on the exhale. “You know me, nothing can hold me back. I’m too stubborn.”
Helaena pulled away enough to see Y/N in her entirety. Her cheeks were stained with the flow of her tears. She tried to smile, tried to hide her fear and ache, but she truly could never hide anything from Helaena.
“Don’t hold the weight alone.” Helaena witnessed every phase and side of Y/N. She didn’t need to say much to say everything that was needed. As she grew, she understood more of what she noticed. Her friend carried the belief that the world would stop spinning if she stopped being everything, for everyone, all at once. Perhaps it was the trauma. If she was in control no one could get hurt. At the same time, it was hurting her.
Y/N sniffled and nodded in acceptance. “Okay.”
“I mean it. Let Baela, Rhaena, and Jace be there for you. They want to be.” Helaena brushed the tear tracks away. Then, she brought her best friend into a tight embrace once more.
Y/N went with Alicent to the airport. They’d see Helaena off; wave to her from the gate. Y/N promised to keep all the creepy crawlies alive. Helaena had a hard time walking off. Alicent was giving the best motherly assurance. Y/N threatened that if she didn’t get on the plane, they’d have to listen to the obnoxious internet songs that Helaena hated the whole ride home. They exchanged a knowing twinkle. They could do it.
Alicent took Y/N back to her apartment. Of course she was sad to see her daughter go, but she had a bonus daughter in Y/N. She promised that she was only a call away. Y/N had to come over for Sunday dinner or afternoon tea. Helaena would be back in no time. She was young and couldn’t possibly have a bad time.
For the city of possibilities, Kingslanding offered little to Y/N. She had friends. She had so many friends that her friends had friends who were friends with Y/N. What she never realized was that most of those friendships were surface level. She invested all her time in Helaena- and her brothers, by default. Was it though? It takes more than proximity to truly know someone. It takes a privileged vulnerability few were allowed to see.
The end of winter and beginning of spring was marked by several things. First, the snow once piled three feet high shrunk down to only half a foot. Advertisements for Maidan’s Day began circulating. Lastly, and most importantly to the people of Westeros, collegiate tourney season was in full swing. Collegiate was saved for spring so talented graduating seniors could go straight into the fall professional schedule. Collegiate was largely popular in Andal dominated counties. Professional was admired in the North and abroad. Dorne was equally invested in both.
Fittingly, Jace was a member of the King’s College Dragons. The team never had a bad season. It was the capitol. Those with deep pockets paid to ensure they’d receive the top recruits. However, the Dragons hadn’t won the championship in the last several years. It didn’t help that the boosters rotated coaches like a revolving door. Yet by some divine intervention, they’d managed to keep the same head coach for the last three seasons. The team began to work together rather than work for their own stats. They were great and on their way to becoming champions once more.
Of course Y/N went to all the home games. She was practically the adopted sister of one of the players. She, Baela, and Rhaena had designated seats on the sidelines. They usually avoided joining the field, but they often were close enough to shout encouragements to Jace and his teammates. As Jace’s relatives, they were in frequent close proximity to the other players. They knew most, if not all of the team. With Helaena gone, Y/N especially became close to the players. Most were sweet and very protective. Any female relative of a team member could count on a walk home late at night or a ride home from a party turned sour. It’s how she met Sara Snow.
Sara Snow was a freshman and younger sister to another player, Cregan Stark. Y/N had met him in passing. He was reserved, quiet, but dependable. With their personalities being so different, they rarely spoke despite Creagan being one of Jace’s best friends. Sara seemed to be more like Y/N than her brother. She was lively, outgoing, and eager to be involved. Y/N, Baela, and Rhaena took to her quickly. Soon, they were all on the sidelines in coordinating game attire. They often studied together, ate together, partied together. Who knew private Creagan had a party animal for a sister.
Then there was Alys. Through Y/N’s introduction, she and Rhaena became friends early on in their college career. It’s how Aemond met her. Despite their many scuffles, the Targaryens always worked their way back to one another. It was all very “only I can mess with my family” sort of situation. Y/N didn’t remember when Aemond and Alys were introduced, but one day she noticed they were together. That was it.
Alys and Rhaena both had an affinity for where science meets magic. Growing up largely abroad, Alys and Rhaena both had more access to those topics than they would in Westeros. Where magic was discussed, history followed, and that meant Aemond. Often Aemond and Alys were the first ones at a new museum exhibition or speaking engagement. As one of Alys’ closest friends, she often invited Rhaena who invited Y/N. That’s how Y/N, Aemond, and Alys often fell into an awkward trio. Rhaena would excuse herself for one reason or another, and then it was three.
It got easier over time. Alys knew of Aemond and Y/N’s history. Alys knew Y/N had no romantic interest in Aemond. It was evident enough from that complete shit show of a party the year before. Aemond was awkward about his history with Y/N. He always had to make it abundantly clear that he was only interested in Alys. Y/N only acted awkward about it when Aemond did something awkward. So painfully slowly, when the three of them were left to their own devices, it got easier. It graduated to a point where the trio made plans regardless of Rhaena’s availability.
It was strange sometimes. At times, Y/N felt like the world was a hanging picture slightly ajar. She was there. Aemond was there. She and Aemond were spending time together again, but then Alys was there too. There had never been an opportunity for Y/N to be just Aemond’s friend and not his point of affection. It was always either affectionately close or cold distance. This was new. It felt easy. It felt off.
She pushed that feeling away. She had Lewlyn who made her content. She had Jace and Sara. Baela and Rhaena. She had enough to make it by. Helana called every day. They swapped stories and complemented one another’s growth. The world didn’t come to an end when Helaena left. Everything was okay. Y/N was doing fine. Y/N felt something was missing.
To everyone’s surprise, Aegon lasted over seven months with a girl he met in an ethics class, Kakia. The gods’ humor manifested in irony. For the first few months, everyone was pleasantly surprised by Aegon’s commitment. Maybe Peter Pan finally relinquished his youthful negligence. He seemed happy. He showed up to every class and went from straight Cs to As and Bs. He called his parents on a regular basis. His feuds with Aemond were few and far between.
Around month five, something began to feel off. Aegon was chipper, but never answered questions in depth. He’d go no contact for five out of the seven days of the week, then reappear as if nothing happened. He crashed his car. He swore he swerved to avoid an animal in the street. He wasn’t drunk, but he was going far faster than the legal limit. The excellent break hydraulics made it so the impact was only at twenty miles an hour.
Though he hadn’t called her, he shared his location with Y/N. He forgot to turn it off actually. She forgot she had it. Her phone pinged with a notification of crash detection. She was out the door that instant. When she arrived on scene, his eyes were puffy and purple with bags from lack of sleep. He seemed grateful for her presence, then Kakia appeared and his mood soured. He treated Y/N like she was the animal he swerved to avoid. As she left, she noticed Kakia was the one crying and Aegon was comforting her.
Month six, Y/N involved herself. She cornered him at his apartment’s door. Helena was abroad. Aemond couldn’t be bothered to care. Jace was on a tight sport’s schedule. Y/N didn’t want to involve anyone else in fear that it would send the family into a tizzy. Aegon would never trust her after that. So, it was a solo mission. 
Aegon hesitantly opened his door like a child spun a Jack-in-the-box. He relaxed once he saw it was only Y/N. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, since you’re so secluded these days, I figured I’d have to track you down.” She walked into the apartment without invitation. It was Aegon. She was going to do as she pleased.
Aegon shuffled after her. He had a twitch to him, those purple insomnia bags, and the smell of stale beer. He had next to no fighting spirit. “And you tracked me down because…?”
Y/N tossed him a blunt which he struggled to catch. His reaction time was slower than normal. “We’re fixing whatever shit rut you’ve slumped yourself into. Also, carry out.”
Aegon looked at the plastic bag full of containers. His need to eat outweighed his desire to snap back; for the moment at least. “I guess I have to entertain you then.”
Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled in satisfaction. He wasn’t resisting, good. Aegon began to scarf down his food like a ravenous animal. Y/N walked around taking in the state of things. A kitchen trash bag sat halfway full of garbage. More littered the room.  She began going around and further filling the bag. Normally, if his place was this trashed it was after a party and she’d just tease him till he cleaned up. But Aegon clearly wasn’t operating on normal.
“Have a guys night or something?” Y/N knew better, but to outright accuse him of spiraling wouldn’t help her cause.
“Something like that.” Aegon hollered back with his mouth full of food. 
“I’m gonna let some fresh air in, okay?” It didn’t matter his response, she’d do it anyway. He hummed a response. Two grand glass doors lead out to a balcony overlooking college town. The air wasn’t exactly high quality. Plenty of fumes arose from the street below, but there was a breeze, and whatever came was better than the current condition.
On the other side of one of the doors was a desk with all sorts of non school related material. It was Aegon, she wasn’t expecting a valedictorian’s set up. Amongst the stash of magazines, speaker equipment, and other odds and ends rested a considerable stack of handwritten letters. The handwriting was very feminine.
It was a line that Y/N was dangerously dancing. She knew she shouldn’t go through something this personal, but the building curiosity from the previous weeks got to her. She skimmed the contents. It seemed very repetitive, very rambly, very accusatory. She knew who they were from before she even found a signature, Kakia.
Focus remaining on the papers in hand, Y/N let her confusion and worry show. She took steps towards the kitchen but was halted by a now attentive Aegon. He had her by the shoulders. It prevented her from running into him. She looked up and found his blank stare. He looked down and found the letters in her hands. Immediately, he snatched the papers out of Y/N’s grasp. She noticed his red rimmed eyes clearly now. In comfort, she wanted to place a gentle hand on his but he backed out of reach.
“What are those?” Y/N asked in bewilderment. This was an Aegon unfamiliar to her.
“Not something for you to snoop, that’s for damn sure.” His words rang like shots reverberating.
“Are you okay? Those looked-”
“You have no respect for privacy, do you?”
His words took her aback. She and Aegon fought, and fought often, but it was always over some trivial remark or slight. They bickered. They didn’t argue. “I’m worried about you Aegon.”
He scoffed in what seemed to be disgust. “And that gives you the right to go through my things?”
“I just stumbled across it. Everyone’s worried about you. You disappear and reappear, you wreck your car, hells your place is like a homeless dump.” She became aggravated as she listed off the shenanigans for the previous months. She didn’t hide her frustrations well.
“Are they worried? Or did you just need an excuse to overstep like you always do. Gods!” Aegon threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “It’s so like you to involve yourself. Always have to be the center of attention cause otherwise you’re just a loose connection nobody asked for.”
Y/N retracted herself. Yes, she was seething and felt the desire to crucify Aegon for his remarks. However, she was more hurt and confused than anything else. When did he become so cruel? Her eyes began to water. Her cheeks, neck, and chest began to flush. Her fists balled in a need for exertion.
Aegon didn’t take her silence and forming tears well. He needed engagement. He needed her to fight with him, fight for him, wake him up from this hell spiral. So, he further twisted the knife. “I’m not Aemond. Cry, scream, manipulate all you want but I won’t cave out of some lovesick longing to fuck the forbiden fruit.”
Y/N’s voice was as shaky as her breathing, but there was force behind it. There was a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. “Fuck you.”
“That’s right, fuck me. Fuck Aegon he won’t be the puppet everyone wants him to be. Fuck Aegon the fuck up who’s only good enough when you’re pathetic and desperate.” His words were honed in, meant to hurt, meant to lash the same searing pain into her that he was feeling right now.
Y/N rushed only to abruptly stop when she was in his face. There was a line and they were racing to cross it. No one can quite hurt you like the one who can see further into you than your own reflection. “No, fuck you Aegon because you were born to be miserable cunt and you’re only achievement is to dragging everyone else down with you. I pity you. I do. How fucked up in the head you must be to think I would ever care for you.”
Love, hate, it was all just another form of passion. There is no difference between passion, intensity, and heat. Fire lived within them. They were both descended from the blood of Old Valyria. When they burned the world would burn with them. They’d burn each other if only to see their reflection in one another. 
She shoulder checked him on the way to the exit. He captured her arm in a death grip. She rounded back bearing teeth. If looks could kill, it would’ve been a double homicide. They held the moment, waiting for the other to make the kill. They each knew the words that would drive them to murder, but nothing was uttered. Neither could cross the ultimate line. Y/N freed herself.
She slammed the door on the way out. No final remarks were heard from either. The look was more than enough. This animosity wouldn’t dissipate. They’d go at it again. Spite was an easy thing to latch onto when betrayed by someone you truly loved.
Month seven and Aegon posted pictures of parties with cryptic messages. “Finally free to be me, beware of those who speak sweet little lies, your loss.” By that point, no one had heard from him in a few weeks, but they knew he was alive. He’d answer texts with a word or two and an emoji. Nothing more. Alicent couldn’t get Aemond or Y/N to investigate further. Both had sworn off interfering.
Spring break came, and Aegon was the last thing on Y/N’s mind. Helena was now on the Pentos leg of her trip. Y/N was going to visit her best friend no matter what. Jace had a tourney scheduled in Pentos that very week. Beala and Rhaena took it as an opportunity to visit where they spent the majority of their childhood. Since everyone else planned to go, Aemond and Alys tagged along. There was enough history in Pentos to occupy their whole week.
So the party of extended Targaryans made the journey across the Narrow Sea. They flew private, perks of old Valyerian wealth. That wasn’t anything exciting. What excited Y/N was seeing Helaena after the longest they’d been apart. They knocked each other over in the airport. Jace and Baela simply pretended they didn’t know the two hot messes on the terminal floor. Rhaena found it endearing. Aemond and Alys passed before the show started. They were determined to settle into the best room and then explore. 
“Oh my gods, you actually got a tan!” Y/N exclaimed.
“I know! I guess searching for arthropods in marsh lands was what was missing all along.” Helaena giggled. Her sense of humor had come a long way since age eleven.
“You’ll have to tell me everything! We’re taking you out for the real abroad experience.” Y/N was arm and arm with her other half at last. The weather was warming. In the day it was temperate enough to lay by the pool. The locals were all attractive. Everything was right in the world.
The matchup between the Kingslanding Dragons and the Pentos Pirates was the trip’s kick off. Though scheduled on a Saturday, for a handful of young adults Saturday was the start to the week. Y/N, Helaena, Baela, and Rhaena took their front row seats to the game. Aemond and Alys preferred to sightsee in place of attending. No one begged them to come either.
Though intense, the Dragons won by a single score. As they often did, the girls took to the field to congratulate the team. The most congratulations those sweaty boys received were high fives. Often, they teased the girls by chasing them to get a hug. They’d never force a hug on them, but the excitement of the chase thrilled everyone.
Hiding from one of the larger boys, Y/N ducked behind Creagan. He was large as well and wouldn’t tease her like the others. Though for someone who just worked their ass off to secure the win, Y/N didn’t find him sweaty or disheveled. He was as cool and calm as always. 
“You know, I’ll have to leave the field at some point.” Cregan was sly with his smirk. He wasn’t a man of grand expressions. Fierce, but not grand. Y/N always admired his composure as she felt the exact opposite. She was fierce but reactive.
She peaked out from around her guard only to meet his gaze. “Yes, but you can go after Mourmont and then have my favor.”
“Oh,” He huffed out a presumptuous laugh. “Your favor, huh? Well I can’t say no to such a noble cause.”
Y/N honestly grinned. He was fun, sweet, simple. “So where’s Sara? I thought she’d fight tooth and nail to make this trip.”
“That she did.” Creagon chuckled fondly. “But knowing what everyone is going to indulge in this week, do you think I’d want my freshly eighteen little sister around that?”
Y/N hummed in amusement. “You’re a good brother. She won’t think so now, but you are.”
She swore he blushed. Of course he was already rosy from the exercise, but he blushed. Y/N knew Creagan would spend the majority of the week watching out for his teammates. Partying in the Pentos fashion didn’t seem to fit him. Now drinking pints of ale and throwing logs, that seemed more in tune with the Northerner. Though this wasn’t his ideal trip, Y/N hoped he’d have some fun. He deserved it.
“I think coach is dragging Mormont off.” From his height, Creagan had a clearer view. “Looks like he got a little too close to one of the reporters.”
Both laughed imagining The Bear tumbling into some polished Pentosi reporter. He was a bull in a china shop. Once safe, Y/N stepped out from around Creagan.
“Good luck this week.” She waved as she walked backwards in Helaena’s general direction.
Confusion appeared in frown lines on his face. “With what? The game’s over, we won.”
“Oh I think the real game is just beginning for you.” She waved over to the group of rowdy players trying to dump the coolers of sports drinks on eachother. Creagan rolled his eyes like a tired dad breaking up his third fight of the day. She thought he’d make a good dad. He was sweet and had ample practice redirecting toddler like behavior. Y/N laughed to herself as she went to collect the other cheerleaders. 
So they won. They celebrated. Then they spent the rest of the week celebrating even more. Helaena remained in her apartment studying for the majority of the week despite Y/N’s pleas. Alys and Aemond remained out of the partier’s way. Rhaena split her time between the two groups. Y/N even agreed to tag along on an excursion or two. Each adventure she dressed in hangover chic. Shorts, oversized hoodie, complete with sunglasses inside- all the markers of coming down from one hell of a night.
Baela never needed an excuse to have fun. Jace was freshly single and wanted to indulge on what he’d been missing. Y/N wanted to live her best life. Needless to say, they spent most of the trip shitfaced. Even the water in Pentos appeared to have liquor in it. Or maybe they forgot what water was. Their schedule went as follows: shower off the night before, eat something, beach, beach bar, get ready to go out, food, club one, club two, club three, drunk binge eating, maybe club number four, sleep, and repeat. They made a deal that they could only post on their socials once a day and it had to be group approved. They didn’t need their parents finding out the extent to their revelry. Aemond was threatened to comply. They had no need to worry about Alys. She wasn’t a snitch.
It was the last Friday night. They flew out late Sunday. Their antics increased as they dreaded the idea that it would all end in less than forty-eight hours. The club was called Titan and it was run by a Bravosi gentlemen. Exclusive and discrete enough for a quartet of spoiled rich kids to comfortably act a fool. Y/N was on her third dragon flame of the night, definitely not her third drink, just the third of that type. Her dress was short, eyeliner waterproof, and happily complied with the new trend to wear sneakers in the club. It made dancing so much easier. She an Baela were shaking their bodies along to the beat of some up and coming Bravosi DJ. Not a damned thing mattered. She couldn’t care about her surroundings, till she had to. 
Her back collided with that of another. Half her drink ended up on the floor. Depending on who she bumped into, she’d be either embarrassed or insulted. The last thing she expected was to have the poltergeist himself in front of her. 
“What the actual fuck?” Y/N blurted out. Baela escaped into the crowd to find Jace and Rhaena. She was not drunk enough for this shit show of a reunion. Baela tended to dip out on all things family shit show. It was never worth her time. That left Y/N with the current shit show. “The fuck you doing here?” Aegon forgot the girl he was just grinding on. Neither cared to listen to the insults she tossed before leaving to find another source of attention. “Having a good time.” He retorted like the ass he was. Nah, he hadn’t gone MIA for weeks after the worst fight of their lives. “What the fuck does it look like?”
“You scared the shit out of everyone!” Y/N’s voice couldn’t get louder. Simple talking had to be at the highest volume.
Aegon rolled his eyes and curled his lip. “Oh, they just now started caring.”
“We’ve always cared. I’ve always cared despite your attempts to be the world’s biggest jackass.” Y/N was insulted. More than usual thanks to her drink and where they previously left off.
“Fuck ever. Let me live.” Aegon went to leave but Y/N pulled him back around.
“No, you don’t just get to disappear for weeks and then walk away into a crowd of strangers on a whole other godsdamned continent.” All her drink was on the floor now as she shook him by his shoulders. Aegon grabbed her hands and she dropped her plastic cup. No one cared. She continued fervently. “What the fuck did that bitch do to you to fuck you up this bad. Like circa Alicent’s affair bad.”
Aegon waved her off with a scoff. He didn’t need the adopted golden child interrogating him. He wanted her out of his hair. “I’m not getting into this with someone who just last year was down bad over a loser who couldn’t even make her cum.”
He started to storm off, but insulting her with confidences hit all her alarms. That animosity they clutched onto, welled in her. He was going to eat shit. She’d feed it to him. So she trailed behind him as he made his way to a back exit. He’d find another club to waste away in.
Close enough to an exit, her voice carried clearer than before. “Fuck you, you piece of shit.” Aegon whipped back around, seething at her determination. She could never just let him self-destruct. “You can’t handle your own shit so you take it out on everyone else till they’re as miserable as you.”
The recurring insult was a well placed jab so he got in her face. He searched her for a weak point to attack. One wrong move and they’d have bouncers on them. “And you’re so desperate for love that you cling to my family cause you don’t have one. You’ve got all the money and freedom to do whatever you want, but you’re pathetic.”
“Yet I never clung to you.” Her smirk was as vicious as the venom of her words. “Never chased you. Never asked for your love cause I saw you for the fucked up mess you are. Must not be that pathetic, huh?”
Aegon roared expletives and walked out the back door. Y/N was a cat with a cornered mouse, she couldn’t leave her prey. So she followed like the sore winner she was. “What? No retorts? Out of insults? Did I finally shut you up for once.”
Neither realized that the side of the building was not the ideal place for this argument. They were blinded by rage. Aegon faced the street. Y/N was right next to the exit they just flew out of. His breathing was ragged. Despite it being spring, there was enough chill in the air to see the puffs of steam he released. Following their club erratics, they were both molten in temperature. She remained still, anticipating a response, rearing for a fight.
He hated her. Hated her for her self important voice and better than you smugness. He hated her compulsion to take care of him. He hated her for making him feel like he had some value, giving him a reason to do better. He hated her for making him care. He hated her for being so blindly, uniquely, exceptionally everything he ever wanted and needed, just to be forever out of reach. So much so that he allowed himself to be twisted up in a viper’s nest just because at the beginning, Kakia reminded him of her. 
Aegon threw his body into Y/N’s. Hate was his passion and passion fueled his desire. Her hands were raised to throw fists, but he caught her before she could do any harm and pinned them to her sides. His lips collided with hers in a mesh of teeth and tongue. It took next to nothing to push her against the wall and hold her there. Her hunger for violence transferred into the initial kiss. Each wanted to dominate the other and claim victory. By the time Aegon lifted to relieve his lungs, Y/N partially forgot why she was angry.
“What are you doing?” She herself was out of breath and desperate for air. They never liked to breathe when they were this close.
His restraint loosened into a gentle hold. He couldn’t look anywhere but her lips. “Shutting you up.”
They clashed into another battle of lips. It was all blinding heat. They had fire in their blood. She clutched him in a punishing manner, fearing he’d escape again. In return, he needed to have his tongue down her throat and hand between her thighs.
They only avoided a public indecency charge because the backdoor opened again. The movement of the heavy steel door was loud enough to distract them from their groping. They released one another and breathed.
“I’m staying in the hotel next door.” Y/N panted.
That was all he needed to hear. Aegon pulled her out of the alley, into the building, and through the hotel lobby. He would’ve picked her up to hurry the pace, but then he’d have to deal with security. To get to the golden elevator they had to pass a retro fitted bar. The bartenders were well acquainted with Y/N and her party by this point. Aegon couldn’t be bothered to care if the staff could place her face to her room for payment. He grabbed a bottle of champagne right out of the bartender’s hands. Gods know they had more than enough money to buy their way out of trouble.
Y/N flashed her room key. “Charge it to penthouse three.” She hollered out as Aegon continued to drag her. Her voice was somewhat giddy. Alcohol or not, she was getting drunk off the situation.
Once in the elevator, they were back at it. Aegon suckled down her exposed skin to her cleavage. Only the first of many marks he’d paint on her that night. Y/N’s hand was already down his slacks stroking his hardened cock. She moaned at the thickness and prominent vein. He’d leave her pleasantly sore. That was certain. Aegon would have made a snide remark but he couldn’t control the wimpers she pulled from him.
The specific key card, when swiped, took guests directly to their penthouse, which was half the floor. The elevator’s double set of doors opened on the correct side causing the pair to go stumbling into the suit. Light was dim, but enough to keep them from falling over any furniture on their dance to the bedroom. On the way, Aegon ripped down the straps of Y/N’s dress. She shimmied it lower until it pooled around her ankles. That left her in only a matching set of undergarments. They were dainty, pink, and so sinfully coquet. Aegon groaned at the sight. He’d seen her in bathing suits this lacking before, he drooled over her curves then, but this was painfully different.
“Gods!” He groaned as his fingers frantically spread to touch every inch of fresh skin. “I’m gonna fuck you until you’re so dumb, the only thing that can come out of that bratty mouth is my name.”
They crossed into the bedroom. Aegon’s domineering words sent her mind reeling to why they were here to begin with. He kissed her to shut her up. She never took his bossiness with docile obedience, quite the opposite. They were eternally locked in a battle of wills. Sometimes they aligned, more than not, one of them needed to feel the pleasure of winning. This was one of those times.
Y/N pushed Aegon hard enough that his knees buckled when he came in contact with the bed. He fell back, spread out, breathing heavy. He was wide eyed, enraptured by her determination.
“Strip down to your boxers.” She commanded. He obliged. Normally, he’d throw the girl around and into whatever position he craved, but this was Y/N. He had no idea that being controlled could be so mind-numbingly pleasurable.
“You think I’m fucking you for your benifit?” Her following chuckle was dark. “Oh you silly little thing. I’m fucking you to put you to good use for once.” Y/N swung her legs over his hips. She straddled him, but didn’t allow their sexes any contact. She hovered and it caused him to mule pathetically.
Aegon raised his hands from his sides to pull her down, touch her, something. She forbade it. She pinned his wrists to his sides and leaned over his pained face. Devilishly, she clicked her tongue in disappointment. “You think after all the shit you’ve said and done you can freely touch?” The question wasn’t rhetorical. “Answer me.”
“Pa-please!” He stuttered out, bucking his hips into the air for some form of friction. She allowed him none.
“That’s right, beg. Beg for it because you don’t get to just take. You receive what I give.” She held him there, unwavering. She was in control, not him, and he better not dare think otherwise.
“Please, please.” He repeated pathetically.
“Please what?” She demanded.
“Please let me touch you.” He whined and tossed his head back like a child throwing a tantrum.
“Good boy.” Y/N hummed and allowed his hands to roam freely. She’d yet to give him something to grind on though. Aegon was whimpering as he grasped every bit of flesh he could get his hands on. When he cupped her breasts, his thumb grazed over the thin fabric covering her nipples. They hardened to the touch. Her moan was stifled only by her words. “You’re being so good for me.”
Aegon preened with her words and the gentle touch of her fingers wafting through his hair. This was nowhere near the peak of his lewd achievements, but never had he been so desperate. He bit his lower lip and released it into a pout, silent pleading.
“Ah, ah, ah use your words sweetness.” Y/N enjoyed the way Aegon shuttered. She’d never been one to dominate in the bedroom, but this, Aegon’s needy compliance was a high she’d never best.
“I need you.” He was whiny and desperately clinging to her hips hoping she’d reward him.
Y/N’s smirk fully stretched her lips. She felt her mouth muscles grow taught. “Poor baby, where?” She pouted right back at him like he was a child.
“On me, please!” His whines increased in desperation. “I need you to fuck me.”
“Well in that case…” She rewarded him, and rewarded him well. She dropped her hips to meet his and began bucking at a wild pace. Both threw their heads back in delight. Y/N was as wet as Aegon was hard. She felt it, her panties were soaked. By the way Aegon groaned and looked at his boxers, he could feel it too. She leaked onto him.
He was so mesmerized by the growing wet spot that he failed to see what was coming next. Y/N unclasped her pretty little bra and pushed herself forward. Her right breast dangled just over Aegon’s face. He leaped to suckle her breast. His lips latched and his teeth nibbled love marks all around that sensitive area.
“Oh Aegon, fuck!” Her enjoyment caused a hum of satisfaction from Aegon. The vibrations made Y/N shutter. Then she shifted so he’d refocus on her left breast. It was euphoric and they hadn’t even reached the moment of euphoria. Aegon’s eyes were rolled back and half shut with desire, but what was visible radiated pure adoration.
Y/N’s cockiness softened. She tilted her chin to get a better look at him. He was so beautiful. He was Aegon. Her Aegon. Her breaths were deep and heavy, but controlled enough to direct their efforts. “I’m gonna remove your boxers and my panties, okay?”
Aegon eagerly nodded and lifted his hips to help her ease down the last remnant of clothing. His cock sprang free. Later, Y/N would swear it bounced off his stomach. Her mouth was left open and drool began to build. With her own half closed eyes, she shifted lower on the bed and took Aegon in her hand. She pumped slowly, testing the waters, lubricating with droplets of his precum. The little wimpers Aegon made only fueled the puddle between her legs. Then she did something that made Aegon involuntarily thrust up. She let her saliva build and trickle down over the head of his cock. Aegon was shaking in overwhelming anticipation. Knowing she’d fully broken this boy, she stuck her tongue out with a wide smile and licked base to tip, swirling around the head. Aegon shook again and called out her name. This time she was the one to hum and she did so with him hitting the back of her throat.
She bobbed her head up and down at a tantalizing pace. Aegon couldn’t string his begging into coherent pleas anymore. Y/N stopped her oral menstrations and took over with her hand. Nothing could beat the image of Aegon pathetically withering beneath her. “You’re so good. You’re being so good. So you get to choose. My mouth or my cunt?”
Aegon’s eyes flashed into wide saucers of delight. How quickly he could shift from pathetic to glee. “I have to be inside you.” It was an eager affirmation.
Y/N chuckled at his vigor and lifted herself back over him. She lined herself up using her right hand. She placed her left in his grasping right. “I want you to hold my hand.”
Tonight he’d been cussed out, ordered, teased, praised, and now with such a simple act of intimacy he felt his heart burst with love for her. He’d say it too, but as soon as he felt her folds part for him, all coherence was gone. His fingers intertwined with hers and they both gasped. Heavenly. This wasn’t an act of sin or shame, but a form of worship only they would ever know. Aegon wasn’t religious, but he knew then that heaven was real and it laid between her thighs.
Y/N set a grueling rhythm, slow as she adjusted. From all the emotions of the night, suspense, teasing, and fulfilled longing, every touch was magnified tenfold. She balanced by grasping the headboard in front of her. Somewhat supported, she was able to raise her hips higher and sink down quicker. Aegon gripped the plump flesh of her ass, guiding her movements.
With the additional assistance, Y/N allowed her pleasure to take over and her head lazily tilted back in satisfaction. Her mouth was left agape and sweatpants filled the space around them. Aegon’s tactile desire grew. His core muscles flexed as he sat up. They were chest to chest now. Y/N balanced by grasping his shoulders. She lulled forward and they made eye contact. Aegon bit his lip trying to control his upcoming release. He needed her to come first. So he began going back and forth playing with either of her nipples. It caused Y/N to release a high pitch squeak in shock. He also found the swollen bundle of nerves that was her clit. His thumb drew frantic circles over the sensitive area. Y/N’s thrusts were practically jumps now. She’d have sore thighs in the morning.
“Gods Aegon, keep doing that.” Though clearly on the brink of being blissed out, she continued making orders.
“Gotta feel you cum.” Aegon panted in concentration. “Gotta feel you come on my cock.”
“Fuck I will! I will!” Y/N’s voice was rasp from all the panting and high pitched involuntary responses. The coil pulling her release had been taught for a while now. His latest moves wound it to a snapping point. When Y/N came it was with Aegon’s name on her lips. She chased him, mouth to mouth in a desperate kiss. She needed every part of him.
Aegon fucked her threw her orgasim. He took over their movements by thrusting up from the bed. Once she came, it didn’t take long for him to follow. It was sudden, blinding, and more than usual. Any words of praise, pleasure, or admissions were halted with Y/N’s tongue thrusting down his throat.
When the last of their movements winded down, Y/N’s body collapsed against Aegon’s. He was still inside her, softening. He wrapped his arms around her torso, holding her close. Y/N dropped down into the crook of his neck. Her lips pressed forward in a prolonged kiss to his sensitive skin. They were incredibly, satisfying, close. For a moment, the world made sense. Y/N had her fingers raking through his messy locks. He shivered. He couldn’t name the feeling, but later he’d come to understand that it was a different type of love. He was secure, adored, cared for- everything he always lacked. It was her.
Eventually, Y/N broke the enchantment. She had to climb out of his lap. Her legs had gone from shaking to numb, and she needed to recline. Her back hit the plush mattress and she sighed content. Aegon followed her down like he was still chasing her. He lounged on top of her. His face nuzzled into the cushion of her breasts. It was pure companionship. All they did was listen to the other breathe and enjoy the after effects of their orgasms. Oxytocin coursed throughout their bodies.
Y/N wiped a hand over her sweaty forehead and propped her elbow behind her head. Her words echoed off the walls of reality. There was more to the world than them and this bed. “I stay because I want to learn how to manage my inheritance. I don’t want to become some tragic tabloid story- cocaine skinny, in and out of rehab, money down the drain. I want to be more than that. That’s why I’ve made my place in your family. They ground me.”
“I’m sorry.” Aegon stated as clear as the chime of a bell. There was no reluctant mumble. It’s all he could feel in the moment. Y/N was a woman unequal to any other and he needed to repent.
Y/N leaned further up. Obviously a little shocked, a little confused, more grateful than anything. She gasped dramatically. “An apology from Aegon Targaryen?”
A puff escaped his lips. He didn’t want it to be a big deal, so he mumbled with his lips against her sweat slick skin. “Yes, because I was an ass to you back there.”
“For several months.” She corrected.
He nodded against her skin, nuzzling again. “Yeah, months.”
Y/N snorted. “Mm, great pillow talk. Keep apologizing and you’ll have me riled and reeling for another round.”
Aegon shifted to lean over her. He was grinning, not as largely as she, but he was happy. His lips hovered just over hers. A flicker of mischief lingered in his eyes. He leaned in to kiss her. “Shut up.”
A/N: Thanks for reading 6.1! There will be other chapter sixes as I had to rework everything for the overall plot. It just made things longer. I may or may not post next Thursday. We'll see how much I get done over the weekend!
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beggars-opera · 5 months
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Today I got the side eye from a bunch of teenagers while playing retro music in the car. I consider this a badge of honor
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5sospenguinqueen · 2 months
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A Million Kisses - Arthur Leclerc x Reader
Summary: You and Arthur have spent your entire life terrorising Charles. But when he turns the tables on you, bringing up a topic you’ve largely ignored since your teenaged years, the dynamic changes.
Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Bullying Charles
2024 timeline. Pinterest pics. Childhood friends to lovers trope
F1 Masterlist
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scuderiaferrari just posted
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liked by its_yn_ln, arthur_leclerc and others 
scuderiaferrari just friday things 
1,997 comments
pierregasly you all know what’s coming
user1 oh dear, not a charles post
its_yn_ln another day, another thirst trap. bet he posted this himself
arthur_leclerc not what i wanted to see when i opened up my phone 
→ its_yn_ln agreed, i think i’ve gone blind 
user2 every charles post summons yn and and arthur
arthur_leclerc where’s the carlos content? only reason i followed
→ charles_leclerc i’d like both of you to piss off
→ its_yn_ln that’s not a nice way to talk to your fans 
alexandrasaintmleux 💕
→ its_yn_ln did charles force you to write that so that it seemed like somebody liked him?
→ arthur_leclerc don’t be silly, yn. he took her phone and wrote it himself 
user3 not the terror twins at it again
user4 poor charles has been suffering from this ever since he joined f1
→ user5 and prior, it just wasn't as well documented lol 
user6 i bet charles begs admin to cancel his posts because he lives in fear of the comments
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charles_leclerc just posted
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, pierregasly and others
charles_leclerc beach days 
1,616 comments 
pierregasly looking good, brother (but i’m praying for you for when they see this) 
its_yn_ln and i thought narcissus loved himself 
→ charles_leclerc i miss the days before arthur befriended you 
→ arthur_leclerc so before we were both born?
→ charles_leclerc exactly 
scuderiaferrari making the most of summer break
→ user7 he’s actually begging for you to take him back so that he doesn’t have to spend another minute with yn and arthur 
its_yn_ln put your chitties away 
→ user8 when people ask me what my fav part of f1 is, i show them yn’s comments 
arthur_leclerc not shown is charles eating waves every two seconds 
→ charles_leclerc still did better than you. you wouldn’t stop staring at yn long enough to concentrate on the waves 
→ user9 what did he sayyyy
→ user10 my ynarthur heart is screaming
→ user11 um, guys, who else thinks there’s truth to this
→ user12 no because they have NEVER let charles have the last comment yet neither clap back at this??
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its_yn_ln just posted
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and others 
its_yn_ln as charles once said, beach days ☀️ although my post is better because it has me and arthur in it 
965 comments
arthur_leclerc anything is better with us and not charles 
→ its_yn_ln more fun too 
→ arthur_leclerc that’s just me, chérie
→ user14 i’m not screaming, you are 
alexandrasaintmelux belle fille
→ its_yn_ln pas comparé à toi. still not sure what you’re doing with charles
→ alexandrasaintmleux doesn’t she look gorgeous @/arthur_leclerc?
→ arthur_leclerc you and charles deserve each other
charles_leclerc and no thank you to the brother who lent you his yacht for your date? 
→ alexandrasaintmleux bébé, it is not a date? remember they made it quite clear
→ charles_leclerc all i’m saying is i do not look at or touch my friends like that 
→ joris_trouche be weird if you did
→ charles_leclerc see @/its_yn_ln weird 
→ its_yn_ln blocked 
francisca.cgomes stunning
→ its_yn_ln marry me?
→ pierregasly @/arthur_leclerc come get your girl 
→ its_yn_ln don’t you fucking start 
oscarpiastri was he holding your hand so you didn’t fall into the water?
→ arthur_leclerc it’s what any good friend would do 
user15 yn and arthur seem to be getting awfully defensive lately 👀
→ user16 no. they’ve always talked about how annoying it is to be accused of being more than friends so how about you don’t contribute to that 
→ user17 yeah but things between them seem to be different lately and now the drivers are publicly commenting on it? 
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arthur_leclerc just posted
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and others 
arthur_leclerc from 2 months to 22 years. it’s been a delight to share every special moment with you. happy birthday, mon problème 🥳🤍
1,027 comments 
its_yn_ln i can’t believe you dug out that baby photo 😭 i look forward to another year with you by my side x
its_yn_ln although waking up to find out you had broken into my apartment and filled it with balloons was a bit of a shock
→ charles_leclerc you might need to get used to seeing that ugly mug first thing in the morning
→ user1 what does this mean?! 
lilymhe okay but the tiara and the shades? iconic
→ its_yn_ln i’m an icon
→ charles_leclerc that’s not how you translate diva 
alexandrasaintmleux happy birthday, yn. can’t wait to see you at dinner later
→ its_yn_ln can my birthday present be you leaving charles at home?
pierregasly happy birthday, yn. drinks on me later
→ its_yn_ln okay, you’re forgiven for teaming up with charles
→ pierregasly i’m not team charles. i’m team ynarthur
→ charles_leclerc we had shirts made
→ arthur_leclerc not today, guys. 
→ user2 oo he used a full stop. he’s pissed
user3 guys, do we think the baby is just a phrase like ‘chaos baby’ or a pet name?
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user4 arthur truly is the epitome of ‘if he wanted to, he would’
→ user5 never saw him put in this much effort for any of his previous relationships but yn gets the full princess treatment 
user6 anyone else see that arthur liked @/PastryMan’s tweet about yn
→ user7 okay but let’s not read too much into it. he could just appreciate the compliment fans are giving to his best friend instead of the usual hate people associated with drivers get 
→ user8 also, he was likely highly intoxicated last night lol. pr training vanishes at that point
→ user9 or, hear me out, like his brother and close friends are suggesting, he’s in love with yn 
user10 okay but proof or it didn’t happen @/NoRizz. you wouldn’t be the first one to spread gossip about drivers 
→ user11 okay, i take back my previous comment. i have since seen proof
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charles_leclerc just posted
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liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes and others
charles_leclerc let’s take a moment to appreciate my photography skills. (oh, and the fact that i am a genius and should not be doubted or ridiculed again) tagged: its_yn_ln, arthur_leclerc 
2,024 comments 
its_yn_ln insert ‘i am stupid’ charles radio here. even YOU think you’re stupid and like you said, we shouldn’t argue with you 
→ charles_leclerc i hate you 
→ its_yn_ln okay but i distinctly remember you asking to be my maid of honour yesterday so…? fake news 
arthur_leclerc can’t really boast about your photography skills when these are all grainy/blurry 
→ charles_leclerc i hate you 
→ arthur_leclerc you literally cried when you caught us sleeping
→ its_yn_ln so loud that it woke us up 
→ user12 he really is their #1 stan
francisca.cgomes the cutest couple 
→ pierregasly what about us?
→ its_yn_ln you don’t deserve her
→ pierregasly what did i do? 
→ pierregasly you should be thanking us! if not for our torment, you and arthur never would’ve been forced to confront your feelings
lilymhe tell that man to get his hands off my wife
→ its_yn_ln look away! it was a moment of weakness 
→ arthur_leclerc she’s loved me for 22 years. she’s only known you for 5, back off
its_yn_ln bébé, why is your brother so obsessed with us?
→ arthur_leclerc he has nothing better to do
→ charles_leclerc merde, i thought sucking each other’s faces would keep you too preoccupied to attack me
→ arthur_leclerc never
→ its_yn_ln well, maybe if you stopped taking pics of us when we did, we’d be more inclined to 
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Requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my masterlist :)
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waitingforminjae · 2 years
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anyway they tore down a long-standing historical structure in my area and i’m such a wreck rn i almost cried when the article quoted one of the core of engineer guys saying, “it didn’t take long to knock down” :(
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bunnys-kisses · 3 months
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Hey bunny love , i heard some great things about your bakery so i decided to come and try too , i would like a butter tart with a milkshake please oh and make it nice and sweet with lando norris (💗)
barkey menu!
if you want your own order! check out the original post and i can bake somethin' up for ya! thank you for those lovely request!! did you know that butter tarts are actually from the region of canada i'm from!
additional message from sender: Hey bunny love HELP you see the order that i’ve done i forgot to clarify that i need it in a best friend inexperienced reader x lando , SORRY AGAIN (💗)
butter tart ("let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.") + milkshake (size kink) served by lando norris (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, inexperienced!reader, size difference/kink, friends-to-lovers, missionary, romantic/mushy, gentle sex, marriage pact
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you and lando had a deal. by the time you hit twenty-five you two would get married. the two of you had been lifelong friends and at the time thought that no one would actually want to date you two.
so the pact was made.
you had honestly forgotten about it years later. it was a pact you made when you were both dumb teenagers and lando's career as a racer hadn't taken off. by this point you had expected him to find some super hot model to date. not the best friend he's had for years!
until after you twenty-fifth birthday you received a text message.
it simply said, "will be home in a few days, where did you want to have our first date?" and before you could question him about what the hell he was talking about. you remembered his boyish smile when you linked pinkies with him.
lando was beyond relieved to see you. you picked him up from the airport and drove him back to your flat. you had laughed as you merged onto the highway.
"so a date, huh?"
"well, yeah. i mean i wasn't going to show up with a ring!" he laughed, "did you forget or something?" he almost seemed a little hurt.
"no, no." you said, "i just thought you would've found someone else by now! i mean you're surrounded by pretty girls all day."
he shrugged, "yeah, yeah. but none of them are you. i was honestly worried that you would've found someone too! i mean i can't date you if you're already with someone." he laughed once more.
being on a date with him was like hanging out with him in your youth. expect every time he wanted to kiss you, he asked. and when he kissed you. you felt a spark in your gut.
you were just at a local pub you had always gone to. there was no need for fancy first dates. eventually lando had his arm around you while you sat in the booth and the two of you watched the football game.
when you were teens you were especially into it. but over time he made you cheer for the team he cheered for. in exchange you forced him to like your favourite cheesy movie. (which he would admit now, wasn't that terrible!).
"I want to keep kissing you." he said honestly in your ear.
you picked up a fry and fed it to him. when he swallowed it, you turned to kiss him on the lips, "you don't have to ask me, norris. i've seen every mole on your ass."
he laughed and leaned in for another kiss. but before he did, he said, "i want to be a gentleman."
that sentiment lasted all the way to the bedroom. you had wished you had tidied up a little bit more of your bedroom, but you might have just been over thinking everything as you took off your t-shirt.
"lando... please be gentle, it's been like a million years since i last had sex." you admitted as you played with the t-shirt between your fingers nervously.
he looked at you with a curious glance, "who was the last person you slept with? when did this happen?" there was a small curl of jealousy in his gut.
you replied, "i mean like, not since the one, one-night stand i had in my first year of uni... since then it's been a dry spell."
he nodded, he understood. but part of him really wanted to be your first time. but hey, he had an entire lifetime to make up for it! he noticed how you gazed at him when he took his shirt off. "like what you see?"
you chuckled, "yes. you've always been handsome, lando. too handsome for me!"
he shook his head and took off his belt, "no. just handsome enough for you." then pulled down his shorts before he got into bed with you, pulling you down onto the floral printed covers next to him.
he looked nice in just a pair of black briefs. you couldn't believe this was really happening. to have your legs tangled up in his, his lips on yours. hands roaming each other's bodies.
it was something that would've made sixteen year old you blush.
"wait, wait.' he said, "give me a second." then got out of bed, he left the bedroom to go to the living room where all of his belongings still there. he came back with the shiny foil of a condom. he beamed at you, "have to play it safe." before he climbed back into bed with you.
he loved the sight of you. you were so pretty, ever since you two were younger. he always thought you were the prettiest girl at school, even if you didn't believe it. now, he'd just have to tell you every day how pretty you were.
he got his briefs off and the condom on before he put you on your back and got between your legs. he knelt between them with his cock at full attention. he admired the sight of you.
"i can't believe you kept true to your word." you chuckled and rubbed your face as if to wipe the blush off.
he smiled at you, "why wouldn't i? i made a promise." he leaned in towards you and kissed you on the cheek, "i was practically counting down the days. it was hard to keep it all inside, not when i was constantly thinking about you."
"i hate that i'm inexperienced."
"don't care. i have a whole life time to show learn everything with you." his voice was tinged with romance and you felt what you could only describe as love bloom in your chest.
you always had feelings for him, and see them returned made you only feel hot in the face. he kissed at those same cheeks and palmed your breasts.
"someone's into those." you chuckled.
"i always thought they were so pretty." he said almost breathless, "in those stupid dresses you wore in university. remember when i threw my hoodie over you, it was because i didn't want anyone else looking at you."
you remembered them, you were trying something new at the time. and those dresses really made you breasts noticeable. you chuckled, "god, i remember that. or that time you took off your rain jacket and zipped it up to my chin."
"i just thought you were so painfully pretty." he took his cock and rubbed it up against your wet pussy. he used to have dreams about it. he always wanted to sink himself into you and just fuck your sweet cunt.
you held onto the covers under you as you tensed for a moment in anticipation for lando's cock. you held you breath as he slowly sank in. you let out a sharp noise and lando eased your mind with kisses on your lips.
"that's it." he praised with sweetness on his tongue. he thought you looked so beautiful under him, like you always belonged there, "are you okay?" he asked.
you nodded, "yeah, i'm doing great. just... not used to it." you took a deep breath.
lando held onto you and said softly, "don't worry, i'll go gentle. don't want to hurt my wife on the first try."
you looked at him and chuckled, "and what if i'm not marriage material in a year?"
lando shook his head, "i don't wanna hear it." then sealed it with a kiss as he used your hips to rub your against his cock. the movements were small, but slowly building up in a decent peace. he wanted to make sure that he didn't hurt you.
you held his face and continued to kiss him. when he eventually pulled away, you were both soon panting. he rutted up into you and moved your hips at a similar pace. he loved that your expression was starting to change to one filled with pleasure.
he thought you were beautiful even then.
"i've thought about this for years. i always wondered what you'd look like under me, or on top, or anywhere really. i just dreamt about having you."
"you could've asked me out sooner, norris." you smiled at him. you felt a swell in your chest.
lando blushed a little and replied, "i couldn't find the words. but then when i remembered, i knew i had to jump at the chance to have you."
you wrapped your arms and legs around him and said, "well mister lando norris, you have me. now and forever."
he broke out into a grin, it was so cheesy. even though he had his cock inside of you. but he loved it. he loved you. he kissed you again before he started to thrust a little heavier.
the intimacy between you two was strong, but the actually movements were softer. lando's lips felt so nice against your neck and along your jaw. every kiss felt like worship.
his hands explored your sides, almost making you giggle loudly. you could hear your heartbeat in your ears from the pleasure in your veins.
the bed creaked under your movements. you felt the lust warm in your gut. you clutched onto his shoulders as he kept his steady pace. you panted heavily, "i'm close, fuck, lando. i'm close!"
"i know, i know. me too." he groaned as he moved. he was so big compared to you. and you felt so small, but in a good way. he was just perfect for you and you were for him.
you always felt protected by him.
you two kissed once more and you moaned into the kiss. he was panting through his nose as he pressed his cock into you as deep as it would go.
you tensed up around him and his cock twitched inside of you. and together you both came, pressed against on another as orgasm gripped you.
it felt so good.
you could get used to this. the movements slowed to a stop and you broke the kiss to catch your breath. you panted heavily as you tried to pull yourself together.
"so good." he laid on top of you for a moment, embracing your warmth below him. you wrapped your arms around him tightly and kissed his sweaty temple.
you both laid there. it felt nice. maybe you wouldn't mind keeping to the marriage pact you made when you were a teen. it wouldn't be bad to be married to your best friend.
he yawned before he moved off of you, "i gotta get you a nice ring. something as beautiful as you."
-
you didn't get married at twenty-five. it would take about three years before you had your special day.
his fingers interlocked with yours and he held them up towards the stream of morning light through the window. "you know." he said, "i used to write your name with my last name when we were kids."
you chuckled and looked to him, "the crush was that big."
he nodded, "yeah, i mean, you ruined all other girls for me. but i'm glad. let's ruin ourselves for anyone else anyway." he laughed before he threw an arm around you and kissed you deeply.
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arachine · 1 year
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something about non-traditional family dynamics with gojo just speaks to me…
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includes :: co-parent!gojo, rich boy!gojo, mentions of pregnancy + leaky nips hehe
note :: this is just pure brainrot, started thinking about him in class today and i needed to get this out of my brain!
link to part two + link to part three
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i’d like to think that after he knocks you up in college, the two of you take it upon yourselves to get married because, “‘it’s the right thing to do.’” and so, for a few years, you do the whole marriage thing—the family thing.
no longer were you the twenty-something-year-old who partied hard every weekend, and studied until the break of dawn every school night.
no, now you were the twenty-something-year-old who fixed bottles at odd hours in the night, whose nipples leaked through all her favorite tops, who had a husband that paid a mortgage and kissed her goodbye before he went off to work for the company passed down to him.
and after some time, things finally start to fall into place—your little family.
the baby gets bigger. you go through the terrible twos, of course, and the teenage-threes, but once she hits five, it’s suddenly pie in the sky—and god, it feels like you can finally start to see a light at the end of the tunnel.
so, you and gojo have one more. one more girl that’s precious, and smart, and quick-tongued, and every bit of her dad as she is you.
things are touch and go for awhile, but for the most part it’s...easy, smooth. that is, until married life starts to feel like a task, and your husband starts to feel like your roommate instead of your companion.
conversations becomes brief, the bed becomes colder, morning kisses are exchanged for nods of acknowledgement, and you can’t even remember the last time either of you desired each other…
one day though, the two of you come to a mutual decision to separate. you spend the night talking, and talking, and talking. you talk about things. memories—before and after. you even talk about your mis-comings, and if things could’ve gone differently had either of you did ‘this, this, and that’.
when you tell the girls, you’re half expecting them to be upset, but all they can think about is how, “‘they’ll get twice the amount of gifts during holidays’” — at least, according to your oldest who heard that from a kid in her class with separated parents.
a few years pass after your separation and now the both of you have come to a place where you can just be...friends. it was weird, at first—dropping your kids off to their 'other home'. walking them up to the grandiose sky-rise apartment building that's always bustling with people who've got places to be, and working class people to probably torture—but that's neither here, nor there.
gojo's waiting in the lobby. he's leaned up against the side of the elevator, dressed down in all black athleisure, and he's sporting that damn cheesy grin that you find yourself missing lately.
"hey girls," he greets, lowering down to his haunches and opening his arms for hugs, "oof—big hugs, almost knocked me over! missed me that much, huh?"
while the three of them get their hugs out of the way, you stand there idly watching, rocking back and forth on the balls of your heels.
"hey," he finally acknowledges you, "how was the drive? they got everything they need?"
"it was fine, and yep! they insisted on packing their own bags like big girls but i checked them," you say, before whispering, "and then repacked them."
he laughs at that, and then grabs their suitcases.
"but yeah, i should get going before traffic hits. if you need anything, let me know, and if you need anything," you drop down to your knees, "mommy's only a call away, okay?"
the two of them nod, "okay, mommy!"
"good...now come on, hugs and kisses!" you pull them in, getting enough kisses for two-weeks time. eventually, you pull away—albit, reluctantly, and wave your goodbyes.
the three of them watch you walk away, and when you're finally out of ear-shot, gojo utters a 'miss that'.
"miss what, daddy?"
"uh-huh," he clears his throat, "daddy didn't say anything..."
"liar, you miss mommy. don't you?" the youngest grins, all cheeky and knowing. gojo rolls his eyes—not out of annoyance, but because of how much they reminded him of himself. much like he, nothing ever got past those two...and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. right now, though? it's gonna be a good thing because he needs to know if-
"does mommy have a new boyfriend?"
"why?" the oldest answers, squinting her eyes in suspicion.
"jeez kid, just answer the question."
she ponders for a second, then extends her hand out, opening and closing it in a fast manner. gojo pouts, then takes out his wallet to put a five dollar bill on it.
she doesn't budge.
"oh, c'mon! i'm your father!" he pouts, but acquiesces and pulls out another five, "fine, you little brat."
with a smile on her face, she stuffs the bills in her front pocket and nods her head.
"wha-really?" he gasps, "is he better looking than me? how old is he? is he younger than daddy? is he richer than daddy? what's he do for work?"
ignoring his questions, she only extends her hand out again.
"i'm not giving you any more money, so we can settle this with some ice cream or nothing."
she ponders for a second time before nodding. "ice cream works for me."
"you little...c'mon get on the elevator."
20 floors in and the questions never stop coming.
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eternally-racing · 9 months
Text
keep her safe | lando norris
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pairing: dad! lando x wife! reader (+ their teenage daughter!)
genre: fluff & angst-ish
warnings: racing crash, reader/lando's kid is in the hospital, some swearing
wc: 1.4k
summary: Nothing prepares you for the feeling of watching your daughter's first crash in formula 3.
note: this fic can be read as part of the racer girl series or as a stand alone as well!
----
Lando always hated pulling the “I’m a celebrity” card when you two were out in public. He's never wanted the special treatment that companies wanted to give him before, but the minute he sees his daughter crash in her first Formula 3 race, he’s trying to pull out every trump card he has to get his way into the medical tent. 
“That’s my fucking daughter in there, you can’t keep her from me! This is absolutely insane! I’m Lando fucking Norris, don’t you know who I am?”  Lando is yelling and yelling and you hold him back by the wrist because otherwise you think he might actually charge at the door to try and get through it. 
He more than anyone here knows what a bad crash looks like, and from the minute he saw your daughter, Piper, go into the barriers he knew that it was a rough one. There’s cameras swarming around you both but he doesn’t care (It’s not like he was a PR team’s dream when he was a driver himself). That’s his little girl in there and she’s hurt. There’s now a full commotion in front of the medical area and Lando admits defeat as he sinks back into the wall behind him and crumbles to the floor with you following suit. 
“She’s afraid of needles, Y/N.” Lando says no louder than a whisper towards the shut doors “Who’s gonna tell them that she’s afraid of needles if I’m not there?”
You know that if she’s in a state where they’re not letting you see her and she’s being transferred to the hospital that she likely has already gotten a lot of needles and wasn’t conscious enough to feel them, but you keep that information to yourself once you see the worried look on Lando’s face. This exact moment is something you two had worried about ever since your little girl first stepped in a kart, and somehow it was worse than you had ever imagined it would be.
By the time you and Lando make it to the hospital it feels like hours have gone by, even though in reality it hadn’t been more than a handful of minutes. Lando’s never been more grateful for his success when a nurse recognizes him and immediately guides you both in the direction of Piper’s room. He’s not sure he would’ve been able to make it through a conversation right now anyways. 
The scene inside is every parent’s worst nightmare. There are lines going in and out of Piper’s arms and bags of fluid are hung next to her bed; there are too many machines beeping and showing numbers and graphs that you just can’t understand. You feel Lando’s knees buckle beside yours and you keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady. You both need each other right now, there’s no doubt about that. 
When Piper cries out for her daddy from the hospital bed it brings a fresh set of tears to your eyes. You can’t remember the last time Piper actually called Lando daddy, it had been “dad” for the most part or “Mr.Norris” if she felt like being cheeky, but hearing those words from her mouth brought you right back to when she was a little girl, your little girl. 
Lando rushes to her side and has both hands caressing her face. He knows that she’s been checked over by the doctors, but he needs to see for himself that she’s really okay. He presses his forehead against hers as they cry together. You’ll never fully understand what Piper’s just been through, but the man standing in front of her does all too well. 
You hang back a bit to talk to the doctors, who try to give you a comprehensive update on her status, but as soon as you hear the words “she’s fine and on track to make a complete recovery” you zone out as you finally let out the breath that it feels like you’ve been holding this whole time. You’re about to go rejoin your family once you hear the next words out of your daughter’s mouth.
“I’m sorry dad, I know this meant a lot to you.” Piper sighs as she pulls the hospital sheets up to her chin.  “Did I at least make it around a lap? Am I the youngest ever female formula 3 driver to complete a lap in a grand prix?” 
This is when Lando has to face the music - he got so excited about his daughter dreaming of Formula 1 that he may have pushed her a little too far if his daughter is more worried about beating records than she is about her own health. Lando tries to calm his own breathing as he grabs both of Piper’s hands to lay on his own to get her full attention. He wants to make sure she fully understands what he’s about to say.
“You’re always going to be my little girl, Pipes. Racing or not, I am always proud of you. I never want you to feel like you have to impress me.” Lando doesn’t even answer Piper’s question about the record because frankly he has no idea. He’s never once cared about awards and prizes and all of the fancy shit. All he’s ever wanted is for her to be happy, and he tells her exactly that. 
Piper stops crying long before Lando does, and you’re amazed by the maturity your daughter shows as she starts wiping the tears from your husband’s eyes. You all just need a little family cuddle so you do exactly that, and take a moment to appreciate the lives that the three of you have and how precious that is. The sentimental moment is only broken by your daughter, who says that she has a little request for the two of you. 
“Do you think you can ask the doctors if they can give me the good stuff that you got back in Vegas all those years ago, dad?”  
Moments like this remind you that Piper is her father’s daughter and it earns a laugh from you both. 
“Not a chance, kid, but good try.” 
For the first time in what feels like years, the 3 of you sleep in one bed together. It’s one teeny tiny hospital bed made for a teenager, so you both wake up with extremely sore backs but very full hearts. Piper’s the first to fall asleep, understandably spent from the day she’s been through, but you notice Lando’s eyes never leave her, as if he’s worried she’ll disappear if he looks away. You reach over to grab his hand, you get it. Call it parental instinct, but that feeling of anxiety after something bad happens to your child is just something you can’t push away, and you want him to know that you’re here for him. You both wordlessly take turns watching over Piper throughout the night, holding her hand through blood draws and med deliveries. 
 Lando spends all day and night at Piper’s side while she’s recovering, and it’s only when you and your daughter tell him that he smells absolutely horrendous and needs to go shower do you finally get him to take a beat for himself. He still calls 3 times on the drive home from the hospital alone to check how Piper’s doing, and you have to threaten to not pick up the next time he calls before he finally takes a bit of a break. So often it feels like children drift away from their parents in their teenage years, but Piper’s recovery has given you both the opportunity to spend some much needed time with her as she grows up. 
The minute Piper is cleared by the medical team she’s instantly back in the simulator. She’s a little daredevil like her daddy after all. Lando of course asks over and over again if she’s doing this for herself and not him, the fear of making the same mistakes as earlier weighing heavy on his mind. Your daughter is nothing if not honest, so she tells him about how she loves the sport itself but also loves the way she’s able to connect to her dad through it. Lando makes her pinky promise that she’ll let her know if she ever changes her mind on the subject, and lucky for you both, she never does.
---
author's note: this was based on a lovely request from a reader! if you have any requests feel free to drop them in my ask box :) If you liked this piece and haven't read racer girl yet, give it a read because I'm sure you'll love that one too!
Until next time! - Em <;3
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revasserium · 1 year
Note
Can i request OPLA zoro where he doesn't get along with reader but calls her my girl in front of a baratie waiter who was flirting with her.
my girl
zoro; 2,438 words; fluff, kinda enemies to lovers, fem!reader, straw hat!reader, lots of banter, slow...burn?
summary: just cause you don't see eye to eye doesn't mean zoro's down to watch you get hit on while he's in the same bar, either.
a/n: again. i've got no excuse. pls continue to send more requests feed my opla!zoro obsession u__u
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it is perhaps what therapists and psychiatrists would call an incompatibility of character. or maybe something about you and him that simply acted like two jigsaw pieces from completely different puzzles. or maybe luffy had just jinxed it when he’d said the first time that he sensed some “tension amongst the crew”, but it’s no secret that you and zoro don’t exact see eye to eye.
in fact, sanji thinks, it might only be a matter of time before you each try to take the other’s eyes out permanently.
“you’re really not worried?” he asked luffy as they’d watched zoro and you bicker all the way down the wobbling boardwalk leading up to the baratie, you sniping at zoro for getting in your way and zoro biting back something equally acerbic and childish about you being too clumsy to be a good pirate.
“huh? why would i be worried? they get along just fine!” luffy had laughed, eyes bright and round as he’d readjusted his hat and bounded off towards the entrance, whooping about being hungry enough to take down an entire sea cow.
“wh —”
“bit rich, since you and zoro are always at each other’s throats, no?”
nami bumps sanji’s arm as she strolls by him with a stack of empty crates. sanji squawks, readjusting his own bags before jogging after her.
“c’mon, you know that’s different!”
nami smirks but doesn’t grace that with an answer, instead, she lets her eyes flicker back to where you and zoro are still snarking at each other even as the bewildered looking fishman at the front leads you all around back to the kitchen entrance.
“— wouldn’t have been in that situation if you’d just —”
“yeah? and if i’d just stayed put like you said, the entire going merry would’ve gone up in smoke cause last i checked, wood is very flammable!”
“the merry’s not that fragile.”
“you wanna bet?”
“yeah, maybe i do —”
“what’s goin’ on here? didn’t i tell you lot to get lost?” zeff’s gruff voice interrupts your bickering as the peg-legged chef looks from zoro to you and then the rest of the crew, “gotta new one, didya? don’t remember you from the last time these idiots were here.”
“she’s barely an upgrade from the clown head —”
you slam your heel into the toe of zoro’s boot and he hisses, nearly dropping his armful of crates.
“what he means is that i’m the brains of the operation —”
“we don’t need brains —”
“oh, so you’re admitting that you didn’t have any before i got here?”
zoro glares, dropping the crates as luffy pushes past you both to clap zeff on the shoulder and offer him a huge stack of berry.
“we came to pay you back for the meal last time! and to buy a new one! and… maybe some extra food stuff if you’ve got it.”
zeff opens his mouth to answer but it’s drowned out by the sound of your voice as you jab a finger into zoro’s chest.
“— just because you can’t hold more than one cohesive thought in your head at once doesn’t mean that —”
“— what’s that even supposed to mean? like you can think about two things at once?”
“enough! you two — outta the kitchen, now! i won’t have your lovesick teenage yappin’ distractin’ my line chefs!”
you both jump at zeff’s voice, and an unpleasant heat creeps into your cheeks as you realize that the entire kitchen had indeed gone very quiet, most of the white-clad workers staring at you and zoro.
“i need a drink,” zoro says, rolling his shoulders as he sidesteps you and pushes his way out of the kitchen.
“look, sir, i didn’t mean —” you take half a step forward but zeff jabs a finger at the doors still swinging in zoro’s wake.
“i said out!”
you glance between zeff and the rest of your crew for a split second before turning and scrambling from the kitchen, looking abashed.
“oh no, c’mon zeff, you didn’t need to yell at her like that —” sanji sighs as he tries to go after you, but nami nails him in the stomach with one of her arms.
“nope. this is something they need to work out on their own. and you’re on grocery shopping duty with me, remember?” she flashes him a smile even as he deflates slightly and turns back to the work of haggling rations out of the baratie’s storerooms.
you find zoro already posted up at the bar, even though the hour is still early enough that there’s only a few other patrons, mainly keeping to themselves. you fight the urge to march up to him and give him an earful about embarrassing you in front of sanji’s old master like that but zeff’s words about making a scene keeps your lips clamped shut.
instead, you seat yourself as far from zoro as humanly possible and wait for the bartender to sidle over. he flashes you a winning smile, making no attempt to conceal the way his eyes drag from your hair to your face and then down to your cleavage, where his gaze rests for a beat too long before he clears his throat.
“what can i get you, gorgeous? something sweet and bubbly, perhaps? or maybe something a bit more dark and… seductive? i can have a custom drink whipped up for you in a few if you’d like… on the house, of course.”
he shoots you a wink that has your eyebrows hiking up your forehead.
“laying it on thick, are we?”
the bartender shrugs, seemingly unbothered by your lack of enthusiasm.
“place like this doesn’t exactly breed subtlety.”
you make a noncommittal noise before sighing, “i’ll have a dirty martini, shaken not stirred, straight, with a twist, please.”
to his credit, the bartender doesn’t miss a single beat, “ah, a woman of taste, though i’ll admit that i prefer my martini’s naked instead of shaken, hm?”
he waggles his eyebrows and if it weren’t for the loud cough from down the bar drawing the bartender’s attention, you would’ve rolled your eyes.
at the opposite end of the bar, zoro taps his empty drink glass against the waxy hardwood, a vein ticking in his jaw. he’d listened to the entire exchange with a growing annoyance festering in the depths of his stomach. and here he was, hoping for a moment of quiet without the sound of your voice yammering in his ear. he shoots the bartender a glowering look as the man refills his drink and tries to make his way back down the bar to you.
zoro tosses the entire drink back in one and sets the empty glass down with a loud clack, clearing his throat as the bartender turns to stare at him. he holds the man’s gaze for a full three seconds before looking pointedly down at his glass and the bartender’s face visibly reddens.
“here you are, sir — the last three are on the house.”
the bartender lines up five identical drinks in front of zoro before marching away and zoro has to give it to the guy. he does make a good, stiff drink.
still, as he tries his hardest not to glance down towards where you’re sitting, sipping slowly at your martini, he can’t help overhearing the stilted stabs at conversation floating down the length of the empty bar. the bartender lavishes you with questions, asking about your travels, who you came with, where you’re from. you, for your part, never give him an answer more than three words long — travels were good, my crew, an autumn island.
zoro briefly wonders why you don’t tell the guy off like you so often did him. then, he briefly wonders if the fact that you’re always so easily set off by him means something. then, he not-so-briefly wonders why, if he’s always been so bothered by you, that he’s still thinking about you in the precious few hours he has to himself.
he clicks his tongue and downs another drink just as you finish your first.
“c’mon darlin’ — just a hint — what about the first letter? shall i try to guess?”
you sigh into your now empty glass as the bartender asks your name for the third time in a row, though to no avail. suddenly, a warm, solid presence appears next to you and the next thing you know, zoro’s arm is brushing up against yours as he leans over the bar to bear down at the bartender.
“right, now if you’re done trying t’pick up my girl, i think i’d like the check.”
the bartender blinks up at zoro, uncomprehending for a second before a blotchy redness seeps into his cheeks.
“y-your — you haven’t said a word to each other since either of you got here!”
you swallow passed a bewildered laugh as you glance up at zoro to find a challenge clear in his eyes. you slowly swivel back to the bartender with a light smile.
“ever heard of a lover’s quarrel?”
the bartender sputters as he stares between the pair of you for another long second before scurrying off to fetch the check. zoro chuckles under his breath, his earrings clinking softly in the dim light.
“damn — i really wanted another drink,” you say, staring at your empty glass.
wordlessly, zoro plops one of his in front of you. it’s the second to last.
you bring it up to your nose for a sniff before making a face.
“god that smells awful!”
“fine then, more for me.”
“i didn’t say i wouldn’t drink it!”
you bring the glass to your lips for a small sip. it’s tastier than you’d imagined but it still burns a line down your throat as you shiver.
“h-holy shit —” you cough, wiping at your mouth, “how many of these have you had?”
zoro shrugs, sipping on his own glass with a careless ease, “dunno. don’t really keep count.”
“ugh… this could knock out a war elephant…” you make another face before you take a second sip.
“figures you can’t hold your liquor, drinkin’ whatever girly shit you ordered.”
you round on him, “martinis are not girly!”
“tch. whatever.”
you settle into a huffy silence. zoro’s arm is still pressed against yours and neither of you makes to pull away. for a while, the only sounds in the bar are the soft clink of ice on glass and the light, liquid splashing of the ocean waves.
“why didn’t you tell him off?” zoro’s voice is quiet and when you turn to look at him, it’s to find him staring. you hold his gaze steady and don’t look away.
“why should i? he’s no one to me.”
“you don’t seem to have a problem yellin’ at me.”
you shrug, your eyes flickering back to the too-strong drink in your hand.
“i don’t tend to waste my breath on people i don’t really care about,” you say, your voice soft and careful and honest. zoro sucks in a slow breath, his mildly alcohol addled brain trying to process what you’d just said but his thoughts are interrupted by a peel of loud, raucous laughter echoing in from the dining room beyond.
“c’mon, sounds like dinner is served,” you say, grinning as you push off the bar, jerking your head towards the dining room door.
zoro lets out the breath before downing the rest of his drink and leaving the empty glass on the bar to follow you.
at dinner, you bicker less than usual and zoro is even more quiet than he normally is. though he wastes no time ordering another round for the table. no one really comments till zeff comes round at the end with the check.
“dinner’s already paid for but i was told that this is for the ‘lovebirds from the bar’,” he says, as he drops the drinks bill in front of zoro with a deadpan sort of look.
for a full ten seconds, no one moves. and then, usopp’s jaws hit the floor as sanji’s eyebrows jerk towards the ceiling. nami sits back with a satisfied smirk as luffy nods happily at the two of you before turning to grin at sanji.
“see? told you they get along fine!”
sanji has the decency to sputter just as usopp leans forward to point between you and zoro.
“wait… whaattt?”
you make to tug out your wallet but zoro slaps a stack of berry on top of the bill.
“give our compliments to the bartender,” he says with a slight smirk as zeff takes the money, glancing up at the two of you.
“yeah? what’d he make that’s got you so impressed?”
you purse your lips as you make a show of shrugging, waving a nonchalant hand through the air.
“oh, just a mean dirty martini.”
zeff lets out a loud bark of laughter as he takes the berry and clomps back towards the kitchens, shaking his head. zoro chuckles beside you as he stretches an arm over his head and lets it settle casually on the booth back behind you.
later, as everyone is making their way back towards the going merry, nami catches up to you on the docks, looping an arm through yours and pinning you with a meaningful look just as sanji sidles up to zoro and bumps him with a shoulder.
“so…” nami says, grinning as she tugs you forward a few steps.
“so.” sanji clears his throat, casting zoro a sidelong glance.
“wanna tell me what that was about?” nami asks.
“care to elaborate on that back there?” sanji questions.
you and zoro both take a deep, long breath. zoro glances up to see the way you toss a lock of hair over your shoulder, your bright laughter carrying back on the breeze. you allow yourself a smile, and you don’t have to turn to feel zoro’s eyes on you as both of you turn to your respective companions and say —
“i’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
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opla!zoro reqs are (as always) open!!
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flkwh0re · 8 months
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Babysitter
Warnings: Mommy kink (W), age gap, slight pervy Wanda, Masturbation, Somno, slight Dubcon, cheating (Wanda cheats on Vision), little fluffy! (please tell me if i left some warnings out!!)
Wc: 1.6k
A/n: If you don’t like this idc :) just scroll or block me if you don’t like this content!
part two here
——————————⧗ᗢ——————————
You had been babysitting the Maximoff twins since you were in high school, but now being in college you were hardly ever able to. That was until Wanda found out you were home for a few days and sent you a text asking if you didn't mind to watch the boys for the evening while her and her husband went out for dinner.
You never liked Jarvis, he would always give you weird looks when Wanda was around you. You had noticed a change in Wanda's demeanor towards you when you came home again a couple months ago. You just brushed it off as him being weird, but you were completely wrong.
Little did you know Wanda had not been able to get you out of her mind, she would catch herself thinking about you at all points of the day. She thought it was just because she missed you, but when she found herself with her fingers buried in her pussy, holding her phone displaying a picture of yourself you had posted on Instagram. It felt so wrong, but oh so right.
You hesitantly rung the doorbell, waiting for someone to answer the door. You never understood your shyness around Wanda, you thought it was some silly little teenage girl crush. It most definitely wasn't as it strengthened in you adulthood.
"Hi sweetheart!" Wanda greeted happily, pulling you into a hug. The smell of her perfume crowded your senses, making you feel weak. "Ugh, I've missed you so much!" She placing a little kiss on your forehead, a tint of pink gracing you cheeks. "I've missed you too, Wanda."
She brought you to the living room, and made some little small talk with you while she waited for Jarvis. She asked you all about your second year in college, the trips you had taken, your friends, and lots more. Wanda just loved hearing you talk about things you do, and things you loved.
You were interrupted by Jarvis' trudge down the stairs. "Darling, are you ready?" He said smugly, giving you a look. "Yes, let me call the boys down. Y/n there's chicken nuggets in the freezer, you can fix them for them. Kitchen is yours so you fix whatever you want, house too. Once the boys are asleep feel free to do whatever, just don't destroy the house." She send you a little wink, and you nodded your head.
"Boys!" She called out to her twin boys, and they came running out of their room. "Tommy, Billy. Mommy and daddy are going out tonight, be on your best behavior for Y/n." The two boys nodded eagerly, excited for their evening with you. Wanda said her goodbyes to you as Jarvis stood annoyed and impatient. Once they had left you turned to the boys, "Who's ready for some fun!?"
Wanda and Jarvis had been gone for an hour now, Tommy and Billy were eating their dinner while you prepared yours. They excited to finish, because you promised if they did you'd all play on their shared playstation for a few hours.
After you all had finished, you played until it was time for them to go to bed. Their protest made you giggle as you drug them up to bed. "Sorry boys, but your mom would kill me if you weren't in bed on time." They both groaned, but still complied nonetheless.
You walked back down to the living room, curling up on the couch taking your laptop out of your bag, hoping to get some work done for your classes. You didn't know you'd wind up clutching onto a blanket coated in Wanda's sent, your nimble fingers rubbing your clit. The tips of your fingers prod at your aching hole, as you imagined Wanda's fingers buried deep inside you.
The sudden sound of the door opening, sent you into a panic. You pulled your hand out, trying to readjust the blanket as best as possible. You get on your phone and scroll through TikTok trying to seem as normal as possible. "Hey sweetheart we're back." Wanda said as Jarvis walked off. "Hi Wanda, give me just a second and I'll be out of your hair.”
"Oh Y/n why don't you spend the night, it's too late for a girl your age to be out this late." She insisted. "Wanda I'm not a little girl anymore." You chuckled, walking into the hallway by the door where Wanda stood. "Oh but you are, you're my little girl." Wanda said, your face heating up.
"W-wanda I-" She cut you off by placing a her finger on your lips. "Shh, let mommy do the thinking. Stay the night, and once Jarvis goes to bed I'll come back to you." She husk in your ear, her hand snaking around your front. "But Wanda, h-he's your husband.. you’re married." She laughed, "You don't think I'm aware? He's not been much of onefor years, and I can't get my mind off you. I need you sweet girl, please let mommy have you."
You hesitate, but nod your head. Her hand slips underneath your shirt, groping at your tits. "We have time for a little fun real quick." She whispered into your ear, the sultry tone in her voice makes you shiver. Her hand runs down your body and slips into your pants, rubbing your slit through your panties. She gasp as she feels how wet you are, "You're so wet detka, what were you doing? Tell mommy."
"I-I was on your couch, t-touching myself." You whimpered out, any dignity you had was now gone. Her fingers slip into your panties, rubbing your swollen clit. She sucks lightly on your neck, leaving little marks on your delicate skin.
Her slender fingers plunge into your aching cunt, thrusting steadily in and out of you. You try your best to choke back your moans, but you accidentally let a loud moan slip past your lips. Wanda quickly brought her hand to your mouth, covering it. "Shh be a good girl for mommy, we don't want my husband to catch us now do we?" You shake your head, indicating a desperate no.
Your legs begin to buckle, as your orgasm crashes through. Muffled moans escape your throat, as Wanda fucks you through your orgasm. The hand on your mouth retracts as she helps your regain composure. You watch her as she sucks your slick off her fingers, moaning around the digits as she savors your taste.
"I can't wait to taste you for real baby." Wanda says excitedly, as she pulls you into a kiss. "Alright, let's get you to bed. I'll be back down in about an hour.” She says as she leads you to the spare room.
You tried your best to get a little sleep, and right before Wanda came in you managed to doze off. She smiled at your sleeping state, pulling the sheets of your body. She softly moves your body so she can remove your shorts and panties. A groan escapes her lips at you still dripping cunt.
She places her head between your legs, dropping soft kisses on you thighs. Her tongue licking soft licks on your swollen clit, running down to your hole prodding at it. It wasn't until Wanda harshly sucked on your clit, that you began to stir awake. Little whimpers and moans escaped your sleepy self, thighs softly clamping around Wanda's head.
"You taste so good detka," she whispered into your pussy, the vibration of her voice making you whimper even more. She loved how vocal you were, how sensitive and reactive you were. She hasn't had sex like this ever, Jarvis could never truly give her pleasure.
She slipped her digits into your cunt. "Oh fuck mommy!" You moaned at the sudden fullness. You loved feeling so desperate and weak for Wanda, and she loved it too. "Fuck! 'M gonna cum mommy!" Groans and cries left you as she fucked you hard through the ecstatic orgasm.
She straddled her bare pussy on yours, rutting it against yours. "Mm no mommy, 'm too tired. Please st-stop." You begged her, but the thrust of her hips quickened. "No detka, mommy wants to cum. Help make mommy cum."
Her slick mixed with yours, her pussy rubbing on your own sensitive one made you feel crazy. "Fuck sweetheart, mommy's gonna cum! Cum with mommy." With her demand, cum gushed from you leaking onto her pussy, mixing with her own cum.
"Good girl, mommy's so proud of you." She said, placing a soft kiss on your lips. "You think you can give mommy one more? I wanna ride your face." You nodded sloppily.
She slipped off your body, straddling your face. Her slick cunt making contact with your lips. Your tongue slipped past your lips, licking a bold stripe on her pussy. "Fuck, just like that detka."
You swap from weakly licking and sucking on her core, you tried your best but you were so week from your previous orgasms you couldn't keep a steady pace. Wanda pitied you and ordered you to stick your tongue out, grinding her cunt on it. Getting just enough friction to cum. Her cum dripped down your throat, you had never tasted someone as good as her.
"You did so good for me baby, such a good good girl!" Wanda praised. "Thank you mommy." You weakly squeaked.
Wanda laid down next to you, pulling your smaller body into her. Kiss your lips softly, then your forehead. Wanda knew she had to do something about Jarvis, she just had to make you hers so bad! She'd do whatever she had to, just to keep you for herself.
masterlist
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psychedelic-ink · 1 year
Text
𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇
pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader
genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut, minors dni
word count: 9k
summary: Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.
warnings: joel is bi in this, sex toys, paddles, nipple clamps, pillow humping, self-spanking, female/male masturbation, piv, dirty talking, possesive!joel, cum eating, oral (female receiving), size kink
additional warning: alright so there is a short moment in this where reader smacks herself with a paddle that has a heart-shaped hole and gets a heart mark on her skin, I don't use any descriptions (like calling it red or pink etc) but I'm also not oblivious enough to think everyone would get a mark when getting spanked so I wanted to let you know in case that would put you off and wouldn't want to read and that's completely fine!
a/n: this definitely ended up being longer then it needed it to be bfgbfg I want to take the anon who requested this, and the rest of you who chimed in and voted on the polls. I hope you all enjoy 💜 oh, also a special thanks to @missredherring who gave the idea of a more in-depth reason as to why Joel likes honeysuckle flowers 👀
edit!!! this has more than one part now! click here for the masterlist
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Joel was lonely. 
He hadn’t really thought about it until Sarah went off to college. 
Since the day she was born, he had one thing and one thing on his mind only—to give his little girl everything that he could and make her happy. The rest didn’t concern him. He didn’t really care about dating, he didn’t have the time to think about how lonely he was. He had been on a couple of dates, all of which were initiated by Sarah as she entered her teenage years, pleading with him to go out and have a life.
But now that she was gone, studying what she always wanted to study and being happy, the emptiness began to spread like a nasty infection. Every creak and groan of the house sounded like mockery to him. He started keeping the TV open all night, most of the time falling asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night startled by sudden shouts from a randomly playing film or show. He hated it. This wasn’t how Joel imagined his golden years to be like. 
Maybe that’s why he decided to use the damn website. Ravish. He’d heard it from Tommy first —which was an uncomfortable conversation as one could imagine— and after that, he kept on hearing the name. 
Ravish 
Ravish 
Ravish 
It was like a shitty pop song, stuck between his teeth like toffee, impossible to get rid of. The name made a home in his brain, making its presence known whenever he was doing anything, no matter how mundane the task was. 
Ultimately, he gave in. What was the worst that could happen? 
Joel groans. He stares at the screen with his brows drawn tightly together, the text cursor blinking as it waits for him to type out a username. It’s been almost ten minutes. A brief thought of asking Tommy passes through his mind but he quickly pushes the thought away and leans over the keyboard. 
JMiller. That should be alright. He doesn’t need anything fancy, and J can be any name. It can be Jack, Jacob, Jonathan, John, Jeremy. There are a bunch. Besides, Miller is a pretty common last name, so if someone asks if he's JMiller, he can just deny it. Not that anyone would. Everyone would be too busy jerking off to pretty people. The last thought anyone would have would be of him. 
He quickly decides on his password and he’s immediately overwhelmed. There are too many things happening at once. His eyes widen, heart beating a bit too fast as he moves his mouse around. In the corner, there’s a little pop-up begging for his attention, and on the screen, there are multiple thumbnails of women and men. When he drags his mouse over a thumbnail it starts moving and he jumps. 
“Holy hell,” he mutters. “I’m in way over my head.” 
Joel gets up to pour himself a glass of whiskey. After that, he sits on the couch again and takes three deep breaths. The ice clicks together as he takes a swig, the amber liquid pleasantly burning as it goes down his throat. He looks around some more, looking for the profiles that pique his interest the most. 
While he scrolls, he sees one of a man with the username NicolasCageFreak, which he finds odd, but the man is pleasing to the eye with soft brown curls and natural honey highlights in between. The man has a small bullet vibrator pressed against his hard length, a cock ring at the base of it. Joel presses like and saves it for later. 
Joel has to remind himself a couple of times that the people who stream can’t actually see him. The more he scrolls the more relaxed he feels. There’s a woman with pretty green eyes he saves for later and another man with the username CammingBravo. He has his face hidden, Joel can see the red ribbon circling the back of his head as he bends over, granting the viewers a delicious sight of his ass that has a shiny buttplug. 
Liked! Added to your queue for later.
Until now Joel was fairly certain he was straight, sometimes he’d get the occasional same-sex dream but he figured everyone did at some point in their lives. He’s not so sure anymore. 
Some more scrolling and Joel starts getting restless. His cock strains against his sweatpants, aching for his rough touch. He takes a deep breath. The next live stream he sees that he likes he’ll click and that will be that. He’s starting to get worked up and, unlike NicolasCageFreak, he’s not a fan of edging himself. 
Then he sees her. A woman wearing a delicate chain vest with rhinestones that sparkle whenever she moves. His eyes flit to the username; Honeysuckle. He loves that flower, he has many memories of picking them with Tommy and sucking the sweet nectar hidden inside. He wonders if she tastes just as sweet. 
Not one to break a promise to himself, Joel clicks on the thumbnail. His eyes are instantly drawn to the live chat. There are so many people asking her to do something all at once—Jesus Christ. There are also a couple of them just chatting as if they were friends with her. He sees that everyone calls her Honey, which is fitting and a bit on the nose, he thinks. 
Noticing that he has the stream muted, Joel unmutes it, a pleasant tingle running down his spine as soon as her voice comes through the speakers of his laptop. 
“Wow, Eric47 I’m so happy you got that promotion!” 
“Don’t worry everyone, I’ve been thinking naughty thoughts all day and I’m ready to put on a show.” 
“Patience everyone.” 
“Thank you for buying a private chat, SarahBelieves! I can’t wait to be your good girl. . .” 
Joel is too focused on her tone, the smooth lilt of her voice, to hear the words she’s saying. The only thing his ears pick up on is the words private and chat. He wasn’t aware you could buy some extra time with the streamers. He loves that—
He shakes his head. Loves? Is he already planning on paying? At the thought, his cock twitches with interest, his reserve quickly crumbling to the floor. 
Joel decides to focus on the stream first. He can decide later on if he wants a private session or not. He cups himself through the soft fabric of his sweatpants, groaning as a spike of relief shoots through him. His eyes are glued to the screen. Honey’s hard nipples poke through the chains, her hands delicately kneading the tender mounds as she rises slightly by lifting herself onto her knees. She’s on a bed, wearing black panties and a matching garter. Joel’s mouth waters. The things he would do to her. . . 
His tongue pokes from between his lips, soft tendon moving with muscle memory as he thinks of eating her sweet cunt out. 
“Today my sweet bees,” she addresses them. “I was thinking of fucking myself with the biggest dildo I’ve got, how does that sound?” 
Joel’s eyes drift to the chat. Everyone seems to be cheering and asking her to show them how much she can take. There’s also a bunch of them calling her their favorite size queen. She chuckles. 
“I love all dicks, in any shape or form,” she purrs. “I’m just in the mood for a bit of pain.” 
Pain. That captures Joel’s attention. It makes him curious about all the other things she might be into. Perhaps she enjoys getting spanked, or she would enjoy the feeling of someone dragging their nails down her pretty back. He wants to know. He wants his imaginary scenarios to be as accurate as possible. 
He’s about to pull out his cock when he hears her voice again. 
“I do have one question though,” she says innocently. “Should I keep these pretty black panties on or off?” she grins into the camera, her eyes shining with mirth. “Let’s see those answers, my bees.” 
What do you want? Joel wants to ask. But this isn’t that kind of scenario so he thinks. The answers come flying in, there’s a fifty-fifty ratio. Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching. He wants her to keep them on. He likes the idea of her sliding them to the side and fucking herself deep, it feels more animalistic, more raw. He enjoys the idea of claiming someone, a curiosity he hasn’t yet fully explored yet. 
He types exactly that. His wording and grammar a bit too neat compared to the rest, but he gives Honey his answer. He wants her to keep it on. Maybe play with herself some more until the fabric is basically see-through, then she can fuck herself with the biggest cock she’s got. 
Joel watches intently as her eyes go over the live chat, there are so many answers coming in, he doubts she’ll see his comment. Still, he likes to believe she’ll see it. 
Honey’s eyes still briefly, hunger swirling in them as a canine sinks into her bottom lip. Her smile is bashful and shy, much different than the character she’s playing. Her eyes move back to the camera. Joel watches her breasts as her chest heaves, nipples grazing against the cool metal. 
“Well, well, JMiller. . . you certainly have a mouth on you,” she tuts and Joel’s eyes go wide. The satisfaction he feels leads to goosebumps coursing over his burning skin, being noticed. . . it’s surprisingly thrilling. “Are you new? I haven’t seen your handle before.” 
Joel swallows, his hands shaking as he types in a quick “yea”, Honey smiles, “Welcome to the hive then, baby. Keep the comments up,” she sighs, cupping both her tits. “I love a man who knows how to dirty talk.” 
A knot forms in his throat, his skin tight. He wasn’t expecting to be this affected. Now he understands why so many people enjoy live streams. They don’t see you, not actually, but still, it almost fills the void. Almost. He’s excited now, eager to type in more of his thoughts, eager to hear her answer him. Joel pulls out his cock, the waistband of his sweats hugging his thighs. He gives himself a firm tug, his spine straightening at the burn gathering in his lower stomach. It feels fucking good. 
“Since it’s J’s first time, and because he got me all hot and bothered, why not leave the panties on for this time?” Honey says. Joel observes the chat, there are a lot of congratulatory messages addressed to him, welcoming him. He doesn’t care. “You want to see these panties soaked, huh? You guys know how much I love making a mess.” 
Honey shimmies back, revealing more of her bare legs. She spreads them for the camera, the soft sound of delicate metal filling the air whenever she moves. Her fingers start to move lazily over her clothed clit, her head falls. Joel can see a subtle dark patch growing, his own hand starting to move slowly up and down his throbbing cock. A drop of precum dribbles down, easing the glide of his rough palm. She doesn’t look at the chat as frequently as she did before, too focused on her pleasure. Her glossy lips part and her eyes scrunch up. Her moans are loud and breathy, signs that she lives alone. 
Joel doesn’t think as he fists himself. Normally when watching porn he would think; he would think of a scenario, or what he would be doing differently, or the things he would want to do. This is different. He’s just watching, inhaling what’s being given to him. He sucks a sharp breath, his hand moving faster, the side of his fist smacking against his pelvis, dark curls damp under his palm. 
“Fuck,” Honey moans, eyes peering toward the screen. Her fingers move faster, her hips grinding to meet the graze of her palm. Joel groans, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “I think I’m going to come,” he breathes out. “Should I?” 
Joel doesn’t bother with typing until he hears his alias. 
“JMiller, since you’re new the decision is yours. Should I? P-Please answer,” she sounds desperate, her hips rutting the air as she presses her fingers hard against her clit. “O-Or do you want me to come on your cock?” 
Joel’s hips stutter, filling the tightness of his fist, “Fuckin’ hell.” 
With sticky fingers he types his answer, telling her that she should come with his cock deep inside her. Joel also adds that he wants to hear her, telling her to be loud. 
“O-Okay,” she whines, almost tearful as she reaches to grab her dildo off-screen. Joel can’t help the grin that makes its way across his face. He types again, telling her not to cry and that she’ll be coming soon enough. When he presses enter, he notices that his name is highlighted in dark orange. “You’re kind of an asshole,” she answers playfully. “I like that.” 
You're the buzzing heartbeat of Honeysuckle’s live stream! You are picked by the streamer as the treasured Drone Bee, your unwavering loyalty and vibrant energy create an electrifying atmosphere. Your presence is a key ingredient in making the honey even sweeter! 
A growl echoes in his throat when Honey shows the camera the dildo she had picked out. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was her biggest. It’s bigger than his own dick, and Joel is by no means a small man. He squeezes his cock and looks down, with a sudden need growing in his chest, he purses his lips and lets a long trail of saliva drip between his lips. He shudders when it reaches the head of his cock. He swipes his palm over it and continues to stroke himself, he wants to come. 
He wants them to come at the same time. 
Honey pushes the dildo in slowly, giving her viewers a clear sight of what’s happening. The toy stretches her wide, the ache of it pulling a gasp from her pretty lips. Joel breathes heavily, his nostrils flaring as his hand speeds up. 
Oh, how he would love to be the one fucking slowly into her, to hear those little gasps coming from her in person rather than his shitty speakers. He holds his breath. It’s buried fully inside of her now. She slowly looks down, her eyes looking directly into the camera. 
“I hope the view down there is good,” she says with a smirk. Joel doesn’t type anything. He focuses on the way his cock drools for her, aches to be buried in her cunt. Honey pulls out the toy until it’s only the tip that’s inside and then shoves it all in one smooth thrust. She cries out, her voice unfiltered. Joel’s stomach jumps at the sound, his pupils dilating like a wolf seeing its prey for the first time. 
She fucks herself hard, whimpering and crying out every time she fuck herself deep. Joel sees the way the plastic surface shines with her slick, he bets she tastes fucking sweet. 
He knows she’s close when her thighs begin to shake—he also knows thanks to the live chat going completely berserk, cheering her on and telling her to squirt. Joel, despite her own release close enough that he can taste it, rolls his eyes. 
“This one is for you JMiller,” she whimpers and Joel’s eyes go wide, his cock pulsing in his wet fist. “Hope you’re gonna fall down the edge with me, big guy.”  
Joel doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until she’s coming—she does so with a loud moan, her cunt fluttering around the large cock. Her head falls back completely, giving a clear view of her heaving chest, nipples fully erect under the see-through armor. 
His fall from grace is less pretty. He lets out a grunt, his hips fucking into his hand helplessly as come spurts from the slit, it’s almost painful. His heart beats aggressively while he tries hard to keep his focus on the screen, he doesn’t want to miss anything. Joel makes a mess of himself and his surroundings, the rug underneath his socked feet stained with his release. 
 Joel’s cock stops throbbing and with a pleased sigh, his shoulders drop. 
“That felt fuckin’ goood,” he groans, staring blankly at the ongoing live stream. Vaguely he notices Honey pulling the toy out, an equally fucked out expression on her face. The live chat is still going wild, he manages to lean over and type in one last sentence before going offline. 
Good girl. 
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Joel is a weak weak man. 
Watching Honey quickly became a routine for him. She would start streaming around the same time he would come back from work and it was the perfect way to let off some steam. Tommy had asked if he checked out Ravish, to which Joel promptly said no. He didn’t need his baby brother making fun of him. 
Besides, some primal part of him didn’t want Tommy to know about Honey. It’s an odd thought, he realizes, since she’s enjoyed by many many people. Still, he didn’t have an explanation for what he was feeling. 
Once she had brought in a guest, and his body had immediately rejected it. He was ready to close the stream and head to the bathroom for a quick shower—however, he stopped when he noticed who the guest was; CammingBravo. Another streamer who had caught Joel’s attention when he was scrolling through the endless amount of entertainers for the first time. He watched Honey eat out his tight little asshole, then he watched Bravo fuck her senseless, making her soak the sheets. 
Joel never came that hard in his life before— It was exhilarating. He tipped handsomely that night and Honey mentioned how JMiller was one of her best viewers. Bravo’s smile, which was surprisingly kind, was infectious. 
He would be lying if he said his chest didn’t puff up a little. 
And, of course, he ended up buying a private chat with her after that. He just had to. It would just be this one time, he told himself, just one hour without the live chat. Just him and her. 
He turns on the laptop, already knowing that he’s kidding himself. There’s no way this will be a one-time thing. He’s too. . . smitten to leave it with one private chat. 
Maybe he can limit himself to once a month. That seems reasonable. 
The familiar website of Ravish loads and he clicks on the little gray person in the corner. He finds the section that’s titled “private chats” and clicks. Her username, Honeysuckle, pops up. On the screen, it says she’ll be with him shortly. 
A minute later the screen goes black and her face comes into view. She’s wearing a pink see-through bra with strawberries on it, Honey’s smile is bright as she looks into the camera.  
“Hi there J!” she greets him, his stomach warms at the sound of her voice. “This is your first time doing a live chat right?” 
He nods absent-mindedly while typing. Honey reads his answer and gives him an empathetic look. 
“Okay, so you don’t have to show your face—obviously—but if you want you can click the tiny microphone in the corner and talk to me directly. But if that’s also too much you can continue to type what you want me to do.” 
Joel’s eyebrows raise. Talk to her. . . with his actual voice? The thought both excites and sends cold fear down his spine. What would he even say? What if she doesn’t like the sound of his voice? 
“Are you there?” her voice comes through. “Is everything alright?” 
His fingers tense and rigid, Joel types in the questions that swirl in his head. Luckily the questions sound cheeky without any tone indicators so Honey smiles, her eyes narrowing while her lips curl seductively. 
“You can say anything you want, big boy,” she licks her lips. “And don’t worry about your voice, I’m yours for the hour. You might as well have the most shrill voice in the world, I would still tell you how sexy you sound.” 
You always call me that. Why?  . . .  Also, it doesn’t make me feel any better when you say you’ll tell me how good I sound regardless but I get what you mean. 
Joel aggressively chews the smooth inside of his cheek. Honey reads his messages, a grin stretching across her beautiful face, “Let’s just say streamer’s intuition,” she winks. “As for the other thing, I mean that you don’t need to worry. I doubt you have the most shrill voice in the world.”  she thinks over her words before adding. “Of course, it’s up to you. If you don’t want to use voice chat that’s completely fine.” 
 Joel sighs, his curser hovering over the tiny microphone. Closing his eyes, he clicks. 
“Can—Can you hear me?” 
Her eyes sparkle. 
“Crystal clear,” she answers with a wide smile. “You sound hot.” 
She sounds genuinely impressed. Joel can’t help but chuckle with the shake of his head. “Don’t sound so surprised but thanks, I think?” 
“Oh it’s definitely a compliment,” she says rolling her tongue. “Is there anything you want me to call you or should I just call you J?” 
There’s a brief moment where he thinks of just telling her his name but he bites his tongue at the very last moment. His heart does a little jump when he answers, “You can call me. . . sir.” 
“Understood, sir,” she repeats, her voice dripping with lust. A shudder crawls up his spine and he has to brace himself by holding his knees. “There is also a matter of safewords, I don’t do everything as I’m sure you don’t as well. Red is for stop, yellow is for slow down and green is for go. I think that’s the simplest one but if you want to use a different word I’m okay with that.” 
Joel blinks before answering, “Uh, yeah sounds good.” 
“Also the website doesn’t allow screen recordings—which I appreciate— so you can’t film these sessions in any way. I’m just letting you know because no one reads the terms of service and one client was very unhappy when he got a cease and desist.”
“I. . . okay, I wouldn’t even think of it.” 
She smiles and Joel’s heart feels a bit lighter, “Good,” with the rules established, a sense of relaxation washed over both of them. “So, do you have anything planned for me?” 
Joel clears his throat as a warning and her eyes glimmer with amusement. 
“Sorry,” she breathes heavily. “Did you have anything planned for me, sir?” 
“Would you laugh if I said no?” 
“Sir, I would never laugh at you,” she pouts, brows turning upward. Momentarily she looks off screen and when her eyes find the lens again she smiles giddily.  “Would you want me to show you the toys I think you’ll like?” 
Joel smiles at how genuinely excited she sounds, it’s hard to remind himself that this is all an act and that this is her job. He wants this to be real. He wants her to actually be excited to show him all the things she wants him to use. 
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he answers not missing the way her lips part with a soft gasp. “Show me what you got.” 
Honey shows him a handful of her toys. She has a lot. Dildos of various sizes, vibrators, nipple clamps, kegel balls, anal plugs, anal beads, floggers, collars, paddles. . . she might as well have an entire sex shop in her room. Joel takes mental notes of all of them to use during their next sessions.  
“Anything that you like, sir?” 
“The paddle,” he murmurs, feeling a bit flustered now that they’re actually getting into it. “The one with the heart-shaped hole and. . . the nipple clamps—” 
“The heart-shaped ones?” 
Joel swallows thickly, “Y—Yeah.” 
“No need to be shy, sir,” she grins. “It’s only you and me.” Honey picks out the toys Joel requested and raises an eyebrow while her gaze searches the pile. “So, no dildos? Or vibrators?” 
“I . . . had somethin’ else in mind, if that’s alright.” 
“Ohhhh, a mystery,” she purrs, winking into the camera. “I love it, sir.” 
Honey is slow to rid herself of her bra, sliding one arm out and then the other before moving both hands to the back to unclasp herself free of the dainty fabric. Her chest nears the camera, giving him a full view of her fully erect nipples. Joel’s breathing grows heavier by the second. He can feel his cock stiffen, pleasure stirring in his gut. He quickly kicks off his shorts, leaving himself bare on the couch as he watches her secure the clamps over each nipple. She lets out a tiny sigh of bliss, pulling her arms back and planting her palms firmly against the mattress, she shows her newly decorated nipples. 
Joel groans and wraps his hand around his cock. She does a little wiggle, the soft sound of bells making his cock twitch. 
“Are you touching yourself, sir?” 
“Yea.” 
“Good, I want to hear you get off,” she quickly adds. “Sir.” 
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweet thing,” his eyes flutter closed as his fist moves down, and he opens them back up after giving himself a firm squeeze. “Turn around,” he grunts. “And don’t forget the paddle.” 
She does as she’s told, which in return gives Joel an immense sense of control and satisfaction. Precome drips down his length, he uses it to lube himself further, paying extra attention to be loud for her. Just like she wanted. 
His eyes follow the movement of the paddle, she drags it over the right cheek of her ass, caressing her skin. Her panties disappear between the crease of her gorgeous ass, leaving little to the imagination. “Is this okay, sir?” she asks, her voice thick. “Am I being a good girl?” 
Goosebumps rise over his skin. He’d called her, wrote to her, good girl after every stream—his smirk is laced with something dark when he realizes that she must’ve enjoyed it. 
“You’re being very good,” he answers. “Now hit yourself with it, I want to see a heart tattooed on that pretty flesh of yours.” 
“Southern man into branding, why am I not surprised?” she purrs and lifts her ass closer the camera. “You like seeing your pretty girl all marked up by her owner?” 
Fuck. 
“Don’t get full of yourself,” he orders, adding a bit more venomous tone to his voice. Honey stills, and briefly Joel worries he’d overstep. He stops breathing, not wanting to miss even the smallest hint of the safeword. 
But then she shudders, hitting herself lightly with the paddle. “How’s this, sir?” she says, her lilt indicating that she’s highly aware it isn’t enough. 
“Harder.” 
She spanks herself harder, her body jolting. Joel can hear the bells. He circles the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, groaning as he makes himself more comfortable on the couch. 
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re listenin’,” he inhales slowly, enjoying the way her muscles tense. “I want to see those hearts on your skin. I thought this was supposed to be a show.” 
“Y-Yes, sir.” 
He loves how breathy her voice has gotten. Heat licks the base of his spine, his cock begging for release. 
She raises the paddle, smacking her plump meat much harder than before. Her asscheek ripples and Joel can finally see a faint trace of a shape. But it’s not clear enough to be a decent heart. “Again,” he orders. 
It takes about six to nine times before the heart takes shape on her skin. She’s whimpering, tremors moving up and down her body as she fights the urge to collapse. She loves seeing his mark there, she might’ve placed herself, but it was his doing and he revels in it. 
“Good,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Lookin’ so pretty for me.” 
“S-Sir,” she mutters. Joel doesn’t know what to expect until her hand comes between her legs, sliding the thin line of her panties to the side. Her cunt is a sopping mess. Joel leans further towards the screen, his tongue licking the roof of his mouth. “Do you see how wet I am? P-Please, I want to come—Can I, sir?” 
“Fuck, ‘course you can,” his neck feels warm, burning almost. “Turn around, grab one of them pillows behind you.” 
“P-Pillow?” 
She sounds dazed, Joel almost feels bad for her, almost. “Yes sweetheart, pillow,” he coos. “I want you to grind that pretty cunt against it. . . honey.” 
“Shit, say that again.” 
“Honey,” he groans again, his hips thrusting into the air, burying himself deep into his fist. His voice drops further as he begins to chant, “Honey, honey, honey, honey—” 
She visibly clenches at that, her entire body tight with arousal. With shaky hands, she brings the pillow between her thighs, straddling the soft cushion. Her head falls back as she gives it an experimental roll of her hips, Joel’s breath catches in his throat. She looks delectable. Her hands come up to her chest and tugs at the clamps, she jumps, a wanton moan echoing from the back of her throat. 
“You’re so worked up aren’t you?” Joel continues as she grinds herself further down, leaving a wet, darkened patch behind. He’s preaching to the choir. His own arousal drooling over his knuckles. He closes his eyes, allowing his mouth to roam free. “Stuff three fingers in your mouth, want you to choke darlin’.” 
With a whine, she nods and pushes three fingers between her lips. Joel smirks, “It ain’t nearly enough but at least you can get a feelin’ of how much my cock would stretch those pretty lips, honey,” he rasps. She shudders, her hips moving wildly over the pillow. “You love havin’ your mouth full don’t you?” 
“Yesh, sur,” she moans around her own fingers, she move acutely, and with every jerk of her hips, Joel can see her throbbing clit. He’s teetering on the edge of his release, heat pools between his legs, his balls go tight. 
“I’m gonna come, honey,” he groans, his tight shaking. “Come with me, show me how wet your get that pillow.” 
With a hint of mischief in her eyes, she loudly gulps around her fingers, giving Joel a clear few of her cunt before rolling her hips down against the smooth surface. His eyes go wide and before his brain can register the coil snapping, he spills over his hand. Heavy strings of come dripping down his hard throbbing length. He makes a choked sound as he tries to breathe in and out at the same time. Honey pulls out her fingers from her mouth and grins, her hands drop in front of her and she bounces up and down, mimicking the way she would ride him. 
The action manages to squeeze one last rope of come from him, his lungs collapse, his body burning. She comes right after, her thighs squeezing around each side of the pillow before gushing around it. Joel can see the shine as she continues to grind her hips. 
“Show me,” he pants, his next words quickly shifting into a growl. “Show it to me.” 
Licking her lips, Honey pulls the pillow from between her legs and shows it to him. His cock twitches with interest. “Wanna taste you,” he says without thinking. 
“Sadly technology hasn’t improved that much yet,” she answers. “But I’ll tell you this much,” she leans in and flattens her tongue against the soaked fabric. Joel’s jaw tightens, his molars digging together painfully. She moans. “I taste sweet. Like honey.” 
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You hate visiting home. 
You hate the heat, the crowd, staying at a home where you’re still treated like a child when you haven’t been one for a long long time. But you didn't really have a choice when your dad hurt his leg, which meant that you had to help around with the tiny bookshop your family owned. It was a miracle that it was still standing, but people did love their old, dusty bookshops. You had to admit, you enjoyed the aura of the place.
Your mom had asked you to bring over two coffees before coming in, she opened up shop early which you were grateful for. Now that you were home, you didn’t have the luxury to do as many private calls as you wanted to. You still streamed late at night, keeping silent, your audience didn’t mind. They thoroughly enjoyed the whispering and the “we can’t be caught” act. You only indulged in one private session, a session that you couldn’t bare letting go of. 
JMiller. 
You thought a lot about what his real name might be. Jacob, Jeff, Jeremy. . . none of them felt right. It was disappointing because you wanted to scream his name when you had your hand between your legs. But since you couldn’t decide on a name, you whimpered a string of sirs over and over again. 
You eagerly counted down the hours until you could finally spend time with him. This was a funny thought on its own because you boasted about how professional you were. You kept things clear, not allowing for any miscommunication or—potentially—feelings. But there was just something about him that got your entire body yearning to hear his southern drawl. Maybe it was the nostalgia of it all. You did grow up in Austin after all. But still. It was odd how excited you got before going online. 
You briefly mentioned you were going back home, you didn’t tell him where, obviously, but you did tell him that there could be scheduling issues. He understood. 
Of course he did, he was perfect. 
Pulling yourself away from your thoughts, you impatiently drum your foot against the clean marble floors. This line is insane. You let out a groan, sending your mother a quick text that it might take you a while. A second later your phone buzzes with a thumbs-up emoji from her. You sigh again as you shove the phone down your back pocket, you hate waiting, it gets you anxious and even though you don’t have a boss that will yell at you, you don’t enjoy being late. 
Then, as if he popped out of the concrete like a weed, a man pushes himself between you and the other person that was waiting in line in front of you. 
Your heart races, your eyebrows knitting together, no way in hell are you going to allow someone to cut in line. 
“Hey,” you call out. The man ignores you and you tap his shoulder, he turns sharply, his eyes glaring daggers. “You can’t cut in line,” you say defensively. “You need to move to the back of the line.” 
“Look lady I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about I was always here.” 
“Ummmm, no you weren’t,” your chest heaves, heat rising to your cheeks. You don’t like confrontation—you’d do it, but you’d hate it. Your legs are already shaking slightly. “I’ve been staring at the pink paint stain on that guy’s shoulder for about half an hour so I know what I’m talking about.” 
He rolls his eyes, an ugly snarl taking shape, “Just leave it. I ain’t gonna budge. I have places to be.” 
“And the rest of us don’t?” you snort, eyebrows raised. He shrugs, makes a face, and turns his back to you once again. It takes you everything not to stomp your foot like an angry bull. 
You’ve had enough. You’re tired of the assholes of the word, you don’t care if you’re not allowed into the coffee shop ever again. Puffing up your chest, you open your mouth wide, ready to give this rude stranger a piece of your unfiltered mind. 
“You know what—” 
“Is that any way to treat a lady, moonshine?”  
You turn towards the source of the voice. It’s a man you’ve never seen before. He’s rugged looking, the salt and pepper in his beard endearing. He has a deep crease between his brows, his brown eyes dark as he stares down at the rude stranger. You take in the sight of his broad shoulders, thick neck—your heart does a little flip. You don’t know why but you’re drawn to the man, he has a nice voice. 
The man, however, isn’t as pleased as you. 
“What’s it to you? She your girlfriend?” 
You’re not but you kinda wish you were. 
“Get in the back of the line, I saw you cut in front of her.” 
The tension in the air is thick enough that you can cut it with a knife. You hold your breath, your lungs starting to burn as electricity crackles between the two men. Finally the asshole caves and sighs, going to the back of the line. You let out the breath you’ve been holding, your shoulders sagging with relief right after. 
“Thank you,” you say, your gaze finding the kind strangers. “I was right about to blow my lid before you stepped in.” 
He doesn’t answer and just continues to stare at you. Worry builds in your spine. Why isn’t he saying anything? His softened gaze flits across your face, taking in every detail before looking away. He pushes his hands down his pockets, looking almost boyish with the way he drops his gaze to the floor. 
“Don’t mention it,” he mutters. 
You raise an eyebrow. His voice still sounds familiar. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you shove the thoughts of familiarity into the back of your head and grace him with a wide smile. He blushes profusely, eyes slightly going wide, he takes a sharp inhale. 
“How about I pay for your coffee. . . or whatever you’re buying?” you ask. 
“You don’t have—” 
“I insist!” you chirp, glad that the line is finally moving. You extend your hand with enthusiasm, which he accepts a bit tentatively. Your smile never wavering, you tell him your name and an emotion akin to guilt washes over his eyes. He releases your hand, lips a tight, frigid line. “Is something wrong?” you ask. “You don’t like the name?” 
“N–No, it ain’t that,” he shifts from one leg to the other. You nearly look down, curious to see how tightly his jeans hug his muscular thighs. “I’m. . . Joel.” 
The world around you falls into a complete silence. Joel. Joel. Something electric and searing shoots up your spine, your lashes fluttering. Your heart starts beating a mile a minute but you’re not sure why. The only thing you do know is that this is a significant moment. An important moment. 
Your rake your brain for answers. 
Why? 
Why is it important? What piece are you missing to complete the puzzle? 
His lips break into a soft smile, he gestures towards the counter with his head. “We’re up.” 
“O-Oh, yeah,” you swallow, barely able to pull your gaze away from him. “Sorry.” 
You tell the kind barista your order and she writes it down on both your cups happily. The two of you move away from the line to wait for your drinks; a black coffee for your mom, a caramel macchiato for you, and an iced quad espresso for Joel. You raise an eyebrow. 
“I have a long day comin’,” he says with a small smile. “And I didn’t do much sleepin’ last night.” 
Your mind immediately flashes you memories of last night. Legs spread wide with two dildos stretching you, JMiller really enjoys it when you test your limits. Your pulse pounding in your skull, you look down. “Don’t I know it.” 
“You had a late night too?” there’s a teasing lilt to his tone. Your stomach churns and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It looks like he’s about to say something else but the barista calls your name and both of you head towards the counter. He takes his death juice with a grateful smile, his demeanor more relaxed compared to when you introduced yourself.
“Thank you, honey. I appreciate it.” 
Oh shit. 
Shit shit shit shit. 
It is him. 
JMiller—J stands for Joel. 
Fuck. 
“You. . .” you begin, panic raising in your voice. “You’re. . .” 
He nods, “I think we both know why I didn’t sleep much last night,” he extends his hand again. “Huge fan by the way. You’re great and this is awkward as hell.” 
“It is,” you whisper. Still, you take his hand. “It is.” 
“You’ve never had someone come up to you on the street before?” he asks, curious. “I would assume you get recognized a lot.” 
“Not as much as you would think,” a cruel, humorless burst of laughter drops from your lips. “People don’t exactly want their partners to know they’re watching me. But if they’re alone yeah. . . sometimes they’ll say hi.” 
Or they’ll ask inappropriate questions and be weird about it but he doesn’t have to know that. 
Now that he’s mentioned you bumping into others, you’re not sure why it felt like the end of the world before. You feel embarrassed, flustered even, two emotions that a client shouldn’t be making you feel. 
“Well,” he breaks the silence, moving his jaw as he opens the door for you. “Thanks for the coffee.” 
“Technically you bought it.” 
“Right. . .” 
The two of you are out in the street now, staring at each other, contemplating what to say. He scratches the back of his head, then his fingers move to rub at his jaw. Arousal gathers between your thighs, it’s not your fault, now that you know that it’s him, your body acts accordingly. 
“Are we still on for tomorrow?” 
You still for a moment before answering, “Yeah.” 
He turns and leaves, you do the same, only in the opposite direction. 
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After learning your name, Joel completely abandoned his rule of you calling him 'sir', making you moan his actual name as frequently as he could. His name stuck to your tongue. It might as well have been tattooed under your bottom lip. He was possessive in the way he asked, in some instances even begging for you to say it—and you fucking loved it. You loved this sick claim he had towards you now that you two had officially met. You loved how much more eager he was to see you make a sticky mess between your thighs. You love how cock dumb he made you feel without actually being there to fuck you himself. 
He even started doing his version of online aftercare. Mostly he would just talk, tell you about every-day things as you came down from your high. Or he would murmur a song. You never asked if he was a musician, he had a nice voice. 
It’s the beginning of the session and you’re getting ready. He says he enjoys watching the preparation you do for him so you decided to start streaming five minutes earlier, allowing him to watch. You really need him today. You had a rough day with an order mix-up, and your mom isn’t the best at dealing with mishaps. He clears his throat, which draws your attention to him. 
“Is something wrong?” you ask. 
“No no, everythin’ is fine, sweetheart. I just. . .” he sighs. “I want to ask somethin’.” 
“Ask away.” 
“Can we—Would you want to—” he groans in frustration and you start grinning. His frustrated pout is adorable. All you want to do is smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb and give him a kiss. 
“Joel Miller,” you tease, not missing the way his breath catches in your throat. “Are you asking me out on a date?” 
Oh god, you hope your intuition is right. If it isn’t this call is about to get really awkward. 
He flushes, eyes dropping as he nods. 
“Is that okay?” 
This is highly unprofessional, “More than okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.” 
His grin is infectious. 
“Good,” he lets out a breath then settles back against the couch. “Now show me those pretty tits, honey.” 
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You can’t believe you’re actually in JMiller’s, aka Joel’s, home. 
The date had gone better than you expected. He was kind, charming, and chivalrous which were all qualities you haven’t seen for a while. Ever since you started streaming you hadn’t been on many dates and frankly, after a while, you purposefully avoided them. It just felt like asking for drama that you had no intention of dealing with. But Joel wasn’t like that. He could be blunt, a bit grumpy, yet also kind. He had taken you to one of his favorite pubs. Beers accompanied by the best jalapeno poppers you ever had equated to one of the finest dates you’ve ever had. 
He was a contractor, had a daughter in college, and a younger brother. His mother and father had passed a long time ago and ever since Sarah left, he’d been feeling lonely. He’d admitted shyly that that was the reason why he signed up on Ravish. He wanted company. 
You found it incredibly charming. 
As soon as Joel closes the door behind you two, you fall into each other’s arms. He kisses you with fervor, tongue slipping between your lips as he breathes you in at the same time. You feel him everywhere. Large hands squeezing your hips, waist, breasts—it’s intoxicating. You moan wantonly into his mouth, your lids falling when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like beer and you’re pretty sure you do too. 
Joel pushes you up against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs while you continue to chase his lips with an insatiable need. You can’t bear to be separated from him, not even for a second. He drags his lips down your neck, mouthing at your jugular, sharp teeth nipping the sensitive flesh. Your hips jerk to meet his and with a growl, he pins you back to the wall. 
“Don’t,” he grunts. “I’ve been waitin’ so long for this honey, so fuckin’ long.” 
Your lips curl, a challenge lingering in your eyes, “Show me then, big boy. Show me how bad you want to fuck your slut.” 
“Fuck,” he hisses, gripping your chin harshly and pulling you in for another kiss. Your teeth clink together, he pulls back just as quick, the muscle in his jaw twitches. “Fuck,” he breathes out again. “You have quite the mouth on you, darlin’.” 
You have no recollection of how the two of you clamored upstairs, stripping one another in a lustful haze. The time you realize you’re naked is when you feel the cool air of the room caressing your burning skin, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down between your breasts, fingers eagerly working your nipples as he forces you to walk back until your back of your knees hit the bed and you fall. 
Not wanting to give in so easily, you wrap your fingers around his heavy cock. It juts angrily between his legs, answering your touch by drooling all over your palm, slickening your movements. You jerk him until he’s fully hard, his breathing heavy as he rolls his hips to meet the tightness of your fist. He sinks his teeth into your neck, the pain that blossoms coaxes a moan from you, your own wetness growing between your legs. 
“I knew you’d be fucking big,” you whisper, tongue toying with his earlobe. “So huge—makes me wonder if I can take it. . .” 
“I’ve seen you take bigger,” he groans, hips stuttering. A whimper drops from your lips, you want him, you want to feel him inside, want to feel his come dripping out later. You feel thick fingers spreading your soaked folds, he drags down a middle finger between them, licking himself into your mouth as he draws circles around your aching clit. “So wet for me,” he rasps. “Gonna make a mess in you, honey.” 
You gasp, “P-Please.” 
He lines himself against your entrance, teasing you, stretching you subtly with the bulbous head of his cock. Your head falls back and your back arches into him. He draws a hard nipple between his lips, closing them as he sucks. Heat rushes all over your body, arousal thick on your tongue. You clutch the sheets. He smiles as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch with a lax jaw and a dazed gaze. 
He stops and waits for you to adjust to him. Joel’s forehead drops against yours, dampness growing between the skin. You feel his breath fanning your face, so warm. There’s a hint of pain, the type that makes you flutter around him. He feels it too. The way you tighten against him, your body begging for more. He obliges. Pushing further and further until his hips are flushed against yours. His jaw is clenched tight, his breathing heavy. 
“Fuck you feel so good,” he presses fleeting kisses all over your face. It’s ticklish and if all your senses wasn’t narrowed in between your legs, you would’ve giggled. 
Your body jerks as he pulls back, the pleasure you feel is instant and overwhelming. You’ve missed the feeling of actual flesh inside of you. Joel snaps his hips forward, locking your breath in your throat, with a moment of desperation you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. He fucks you in earnest. Every thrust desperate. Every thrust needy. He seems lost in you, whimpers, groans and grunts trembling in his throat and chest. You spread your legs wider, wanting more of him, wanting your cunt to take the shape of his cock. 
“Harder—” you cry out. “Take it—Take what you want—” 
Your arms fall limp, his body moving up and towering over yours. Joel grips your thighs tight before lifting them, he jackhammers into you, tugging and pulling at you like a brand new fucktoy. He splits you in half. The force of his movements making you scream. You don’t miss the way he grins wildly, dangerously. Something dark and haunting washing over his face. 
Your eyes grow wide, your heart beating in your throat, making it hard to swallow. It happens all at once, you clench around him, arousal pouring between your legs in a way it never had before. The look, the cock, the man behind it all—everything combined pushing your mind into the deep stages of want and need. Your eyes roll back, your hands coming up to pinch your tight, tingling nipples. You sob his name, your voice hoarse as you beg him for more and more and more—
“W-Wait, darlin’ if you squeeze me like that I’ll—!” 
A series of curses drops wildly and unintelligently from his lips. You feel him. The heat of his seed filling you to the brim, his cock throbs and twitches, spurting into you again and again. Your lips break into a satisfied smile. Instinctively, Joel pushes deeper, shoving your combined slick even deeper. 
“Shit,” he says catching his breath. “I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I usually last. . . longer than that. I—” 
You shush him and cup his cheek. You’re so pliant right now, floating happily in the air. You let out a sigh before willing your lips to move. Has talking always been this taxing? 
“It’s okay Joel,” you slur your words, smiling lazily. “I take it as a compliment, that felt fucking good.” 
“Yeah?” he sounds so innocent and hopeful that you can’t suppress your giggle. His eyes twinkle under the dimmed light. “Well, I’m glad you felt good, sweetheart but I’m not done yet.” 
Your breath hitches when he pulls out, your brows furrow as a chill settles between your legs. You wanted him to stay inside longer. But you’re pleasantly surprised when he slides down your body, kissing every patch of skin before settling between your legs. 
“Let’s see if you’re as sweet as you’ve been tellin’ me.” 
He kisses your cunt, lips moving in tandem with your wet folds. He drags his tongue up between them, curling it as he takes himself into his mouth, tasting both of you at one. You go limp at the pressure of his tongue, your walls fluttering and squeezing for more. With a groan, he shoves his fingers, the wet sound makes your toes curl into the mattress. It’s like torture, a very pleasurable torture. You gasp when he pulls you flush against his face, the bridge of his nose bumping against your clit as he licks you clean. 
Your build up is spontaneous. You feel it coming, the taste of your orgasm at the tip of your tongue. Joel curls his fingers, sucking your clit between his lips and gently nipping at it. You hips chases his mouth, his mustache chafing the tender skin. Your hands come to each side of his head, threading your trembling fingers through the soft locks, his fingers brush against an especially sensitive spot and you tug at his hair. His throat shakes with a groan. His eyes closing. 
“Do it again,” he mutters. And you do. He starts moaning into your cunt, his hips, despite just spilling inside of you, rutting against the bed. Your nails bite into his scalp and he flicks his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. 
The tension coiling in you finally snaps, your entire body locking up as you gush into his mouth. He gulps you down loudly, fingers still moving deep inside you. Your throat is dry as ou shout his name, hips stuttering helplessly, he pins you down with both hands, moving his head up and down as the fat strokes of his tongue becomes more wild. 
When he’s finally done feasting, he pulls away with a wet mouth. 
“Wow,” you murmur, curling into him when he lays beside you. “That was. . . wow.” 
“You really had low expectations, huh?” 
“Not low,” you grin. “But not that high either.” 
“Well,” he says, guiding you so you’ll lay on his chest. “I’m glad to prove you wrong.” 
You smile, heart fluttering. 
“Me too.” 
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foxy-eva · 6 months
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Rite of Passage
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Summary: Spencer is home alone with his daughter when she gets her period for the first time
Request: Spencer and Reader are married. They have a teenage daughter who gets her period for the first time (initially requested to @imagining-in-the-margins)
Pairing: Technically Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader but it’s mostly about Spencer and his daughter!
Category: Comfort, Fluff
Content Warnings: mentions blood, menstruation, period hygiene, cramps, female anatomy and biology, crying, food
Author's Note: I wrote this for @/imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Writing Challenge! 
Masterlist
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Sunday mornings always brought a certain calmness with them. Spencer was still half asleep when you kissed him goodbye, leaving for a little day trip with your friends when the sun was barely up. 
Spencer mumbled something that should have sounded like I love you before he closed his eyes once more, looking forward to some father-daughter quality time with your wonderful kid Marie. 
That was until he was awoken by shrill screams coming from her room. 
You were long gone when Spencer jumped out of bed, all of his years working with the FBI having him expect the worst. He rushed into his daughter’s room, finding her sitting in her bed, a look of horror spread across her face. 
“Are you okay!?” Spencer almost yelled when he reached her bedside. 
His daughter slowly shook her head while pulling back the blanket, revealing small blood stains on her pajama pants and the sheets. It only took Spencer a split second to realize what was happening. His facial features softened instantly. 
He thought he still had a few more months, maybe even another year, until this would happen. He had also hoped that you would be home for this occasion, certainly handling this a lot better than he ever could. 
“Oh sweetie,” he cooed while sitting down on the edge of her bed. “I think you got your period.”
Instead of saying anything, Marie just buried her face in her hands and started wailing. Spencer wasn’t sure if she was still in shock or if the general discomfort made her cry. 
“It’s okay. It just means you’re becoming a woman.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could have taken them back. He hated the thought that his little girl was actually growing up more than anything. And it certainly didn't help in this moment. 
Without thinking about it, he did what he was most comfortable with and started rambling, “We talked about this, do you remember? It means that your uterine lining is shedding which results in the discharge of blood through your–”
“Dad!” She cried. “Please stop talking about my… you know! It’s weird!”
“I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” 
His little girl wiped away some tears from her cheeks before muttering, “Where’s mom? I wanna talk to her.”
Spencer sighed. He would have liked nothing more than to be able to let you take over right then. “She already left for her day trip. She won’t be home until six.” 
This explanation only led to more crying. Spencer reached out his hand to offer comfort with a gentle touch on her arm but Marie shied away from him.
“I feel gross,” she whined. 
“Why don’t you hop in the shower to get clean and then change into fresh clothes?” 
It seemed like he finally said something helpful. Her sobs simmered down as she got up from her bed to walk over to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Spencer quickly changed the sheets and put out some clean clothes for his daughter before disappearing in his bedroom.
He let out a loud breath as he reached for his phone to call you. Before you could say anything, he blurted out, “She got her period and won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do!”
“Oh my poor girl! Is she with you right now?” You wanted to know. 
“She’s in the shower. Can you please come home?” 
You knew that he wasn’t being serious. A quiet laugh escaped our mouth before you said, “Don't be so dramatic, Spencer. I’m sure you're very capable of handling this.”
“I told her that her uterine lining was shedding. It was not helpful,” he sighed. 
“Yeah, maybe hold off on the biology lesson for now. You know where my pads are, right?”
“Oh yeah, right. She's gonna need them.” Spencer paused for a second. “Oh god, what if she wants to use a tampon? I can’t explain that to her. That conversation will make the both of us cry.” 
“Give her a pad for now, those are self-explanatory. I can talk to her about tampons later if she wants.”
“Okay, okay, yeah. She just turned off the shower, I gotta go!” 
“Good luck! And stop panicking!” 
That was easier said than done. Spencer almost jumped when he heard Marie knocking on the bedroom door. 
“You can come in!” 
His daughter, tightly wrapped in a bathrobe, stepped into the room. She had stopped crying but still seemed upset. Spencer’s heart always broke a little when he saw his little girl in discomfort.
“I’m still uhm…bleeding,” she whispered. 
“Yes, that's gonna last a couple of days,” Spencer replied with a soft voice. He disappeared in the master bathroom for a second to get a pack of pads. “Here. Do you know how to use them?”
“I’m not an idiot, dad,” she snubbed.
The tone of her voice gave away how irritated she was. Usually Spencer would remind her to be more respectful but decided to let it slide this time. 
“I know, Mimi. I just wanted to make sure,” he said instead. 
The use of this nickname for his daughter was yet another reminder of a time that seemed so long gone right then. Marie had trouble pronouncing her own name as a toddler so she’d say Mimi instead. Spencer loved it so much that he stuck with it ever since. 
Without saying another word, she disappeared in her room. Spencer rubbed his temples for a moment before getting ready for the day himself. He decided to give his daughter some space and prepare breakfast in the meantime. 
He was focussed on not burning the chocolate chip pancakes he was making when Marie stepped into the kitchen. 
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she mumbled. 
Spencer turned his head to smile at his daughter. “It's okay, sweetie. I know you aren’t feeling well.”
She placed her hands on her lower stomach and muttered, “It hurts.”
“Here,” Spencer said as he reached for the hot water bottle he had already prepared. “Heat has a proven effect on relieving period cramps.”
“Thank you.” 
A timid smile appeared on her face when she realized her father was preparing her favorite breakfast. She stepped closer to catch a glimpse of the pan while chirping, “Chocolate chip pancakes?” 
“You know I’d do anything to make you feel better, Mimi,” Spencer spoke in a soft voice while offering his daughter a hug. 
This time she accepted, tightly wrapping her arms around him. Spencer was relieved that he didn’t mess up yet another thing. Marie was very bright and realized something Spencer had thought about earlier, too. 
“Wait,” she said as she stepped back. “You always make mom her favorite meal when she’s in a bad mood.”
“You have a lot in common with your mother, “ he explained. “I figured I should try what works for her.” 
“Now you’ll have to deal with two cranky girls in the house,” Marie laughed while taking out two plates. 
“I really don't mind,” he sincerely replied. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to have all kinds of uncomfortable side effects during your period. Taking care of your mom – and now you – is the least I could do.”
After a moment of silence she said, “Earlier you said that I’m becoming a woman now. I thought about that when I was in the shower… What if I don't wanna grow up yet?” 
“I don’t know if that helps, but… You’ll always be my little girl,” Spencer responded while filling both plates with pancakes. 
“So you’ll still watch Disney movies with me?” 
A wide smile spread over Spencer’s face as he took the plates to walk over to the couch. “I was hoping you'd ask!”
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Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.
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Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @luredwithpretzels @castiels-majestic-wings @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @yeonalie @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads @luvdella @luvley2k @bunnylovesani
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helaintoloki · 2 months
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can you do a five x reader where in the season finale of s3 you don’t come out of the elevator and five is devastated so he does anything in his power to found you again but when he does you’ve clearly moved on
a/n: so i couldn’t come up with an explanation for why reader would just move on instead of looking for five so i added an extra layer to this request
warnings: angst
summary: after being separated in the new timeline, Five does everything in his power to find you only to realize he’s too late
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He couldn’t believe he’d finally done it.
After three years of searching, three years of following false leads and dead ends, three years of tearing himself apart trying to fix the mess his father and Allison had created, he’d found you.
Five could never put into words how much he loved you and how much of an effect you had on his entire being. You were the girl from his childhood, his first and only love that he fought tirelessly to get back to when stranded in the apocalypse, the girl who’s photo from an old magazine article he kept on him at all times.
Little about you had changed when he made his way back to the past to stop the impending apocalypse. You still had the same smile, the same laugh, the same appearance- your powers kept you forever young, a gift that was both a blessing and a curse depending on the day- and the same love for him in your heart that had blossomed when you were thirteen and naive about where the future would lead you. Falling back into your old routine together had been as easy as breathing, and from then on you both were inseparable. Five knew he could always count on you no matter what new challenge was thrown your way or what new problem you had to face. He vowed never to let you go ever again, but fate had other plans.
After arriving in this new timeline, Five had been quick to notice the fact that you were no longer by his side. Despite holding your hand in that elevator, you were nowhere to be seen when he’d stepped out with the rest of his siblings. Not only were his powers gone, but you were as well, and he had no idea where you could possibly be. He could feel the panic in his chest rising as if a fist was gripping his heart and slowly squeezing with each passing second, and the lack of control he felt in that moment was torturous. However, he only let himself spiral for a moment before immediately beginning to devise a search and rescue. Five would not stop until you were found and back safe in his arms.
And now here he was, standing dumbfounded in front of the entrance to a quiet cafe where you were waiting tables and completely oblivious to the pair of eyes watching you through the windows.
Your smile is still as warm as ever as you greet patrons and serve them their meals, asking about their days and laughing at their jokes even if they aren’t all that funny. Despite being on your own for three years, you seem to be doing quite well for yourself. But then Five notices something that makes his heart skip a beat and his palms perspire with nerves.
Your features have changed and in the time that’s passed it looks as though you’ve actually aged, something that was once thought to be impossible. Without your powers in this timeline, it makes sense that you would begin to grow into the looks of an older adult instead of permanently being stuck in a teenage girl’s body. He knows it’s something you’ve always wanted, and it’s a comforting thought to at least know that in this new setting you can have the life you’ve always wanted to have.
The bell above the door jingles loudly as Five bursts into the cafe and meets your gaze. Your eyes connect from across the room, Five’s breath hitching in his throat as you begin to walk towards him with an unwavering smile. He’s finally found you, and now he can rest easily knowing this whole mess is finally over.
“Y/n,” he utters through a trembling breath, fingers twitching at his sides in eager anticipation at being able to hold you once again. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”
“Hi,” you greet with a polite smile, “dining in or ordering to-go?”
“W-What?” Five breathes out as his brows begin to furl in confusion. He takes a hesitant step back when you step forward, unsure of himself and of your behavior.
“Dining in or ordering to-go?” You repeat before glancing over your shoulder in search of an available table. “If you’re dining in it’s going to be about a five minute wait.”
“Y/n, don’t- don’t you recognize me? It’s Five,” He says almost desperately, his chest beginning to tighten in panic at your uncharacteristic behavior. The girl he knew would have been ecstatic to see him; she would have dropped everything to express how grateful she was to see him again before scolding him for getting her into another time travel related mess. Why weren’t you happy to see him?
“I’m sorry, I think you might have me mistaken for someone else,” you correct him with a sheepish smile, completely oblivious to the fact that you’ve just completely crushed his heart in your hands and taken away the one thing in this world he cherishes most. “I’ll go see if there’s a table available for you, okay?”
You leave him there completely heartbroken and disoriented as he’s left to wonder what went wrong. You’re alive in this timeline, able to age and live a normal life, but it comes at the cost of the memories from your past life. You have no idea who he is here, what you’ve been through together, how much he loves you and would do anything for you.
In every life, every timeline, you are everything to Five. But in this life, he’s nothing more to you than a man coming into your cafe for a bite to eat.
And it destroys him.
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harryslittlefreakk · 9 months
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the pact
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summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time
warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)
wordcount: 6k
a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!
my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼
From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.
But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.
Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.
Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.
Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”
“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,
‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’
“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.
“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.
“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.
She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.
Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.
You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.
With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.
“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.
“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.
“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”
You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”
The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”
“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”
“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”
Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.
It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.
Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.
“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.
The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.
“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.
The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.
You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.
For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.
“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.
“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.
“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.
Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.
He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.
His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.
He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.
Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.
He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.
Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.
Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”
“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”
He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.
“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.
“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”
“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”
You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.
You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.
You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”
You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.
“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”
part two
taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein
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thirteenfrogs · 2 months
Text
‘hot & heavy’ — leah williamson x reader
leah williamson x fem!reader
based on hot & heavy by lucy dacus !
italics are flashbacks
not proofread and idk if makes sense
so. many. words. (7.8k)
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being back here makes me hot in the face
hot blood in my pulsing veins
england, you know, is home.
you associate that word with the country so often that it always surprises you that the dictionary definition of home isn't simply the polaroid of your house in milton keynes that you took when you were 8.
england is home even when you leave, and it's home when you come back after years away.
being back in england — specifically in milton keynes — makes your cheeks warm, and you're not sure whether it's the uncharacteristically hot sun or something deeper in the pit of your stomach that makes you all too aware of the hot blood in your pulsing veins.
heavy memories weighing on my brain
hot and heavy in the basement of your parents' place
your memories of milton keynes are varied — some are from your childhood, where you spent hours wishing on dandelions, kicking a ball around the neighbouring streets, and chasing the ice-cream van with a 50p coin you found in the gutter in the hopes of a screwball or a mr. whippy.
some memories are from your teenage years, where the bus ride to school was more entertaining than any parties your friends dragged you to in short dresses and the promise of a kiss from the good looking lad in the year above, no matter how much you insisted that you would much rather go to the cinema with your mates (and sneakily hold hands with your best friend).
few memories are from your adult years, when you decided to travel to neighbouring cities and spent hours exploring the intricacies of museum architecture and flirting to get free drinks in the new pub that opened around the corner from your secondary school.
every memory, though, includes her.
leah williamson — your childhood best friend, teenage love, and the reason why being back home feels both freeing and suffocating at the same time.
you used to be so sweet
leah used to pick flowers.
it was something that, more often than not, ended with you both being chased down the street by an angry neighbour who had fists in the air yelling that they were already on the phone to your mums and you would both be in for it when you got home.
it was always worth it, though, when after running so fast for so long you swear your legs could fall off, leah presents you with a fistful of whatever flowers were growing in that particular garden with some blades of grass and the roots still attached to the muddy bouquet. there would always be a dandelion, too, and the blonde girl would insist you make a wish just so she could pester you for hours after about what you had wished for.
and even when your mum does inevitably tell you off after the streetlights had come on and signalled your time to retreat home, the crumpled flowers you hold tight in your grasp remind you that tomorrow you'll do it all again, and the collection of wilted flowers on your windowsill will surely grow once more.
when she sees you again for the first time in almost 5 years, leah refrains from breaking into the nearest garden to steal you a flower and instead settles for a quick hug that feels more like home than any house she's ever lived in.
now you're a firecracker on a crowded street
couldn't look away even if i wanted
it’s merely a coincidence, you tell yourself, that your trip back home coincides with leah’s 26th birthday.
she invites you to a small get-together she’s having in london, and you try not to think about all the birthday traditions that have been broken in the years apart from your ex-best-friend. gone are the sleepovers you held the night before, gone are the parties your families had in your back-gardens, and gone are the shared slices of your favourite cakes.
get-togethers in hidden bars in london are new to you, but they seem familiar to leah and those she considers most important to her.
meeting up with her teammates and friends is a bittersweet experience, and you try not to think about how the leah they’re celebrating is wildly different to the leah you’re celebrating.
you look at the blonde and see the girl you once considered your better half, your extra limb, and they simply see the woman she is today.
leah’s the same as she always was, you notice from your seat at the bar, as she attracts the attention from the entire room without even trying. she’s still the same leah that was a thousand times more popular than you, and she’s still the same leah that never seemed to notice the hold she had on others.
you watch the way her eyes light up when she’s had a drink, and it takes you back to bonfire night when you were 7. when leah first held a sparkler on your crowded street, and her immediate thought was to try and cast a spell on you, giggling like a madman when you throw yourself to the floor like you had been struck.
you think the sparkle in her eyes is still there, and you pretend not to notice the way it brightens when she catches sight of you watching her. you couldn’t look away even if you wanted, and it takes a tap to your shoulder to snap you out of your leah-induced haze.
“kei!” you throw your arms around the ginger in a warm hug, and she responds back eagerly.
“hi, y/n/n, it’s so good to see you again.” keira smiles, squeezing your shoulders gently.
“it’s been a while.” you agree, letting her take the seat next to you.
you find yourself sticking with keira and other familiar faces, such alex and georgia, for a lot of the night — getting tipsy as you reminisce on shared memories and anecdotes about a certain blonde who was drunkenly serenading the entire bar.
at one point, it’s just you and keira, both equally drunk as you laugh about that time leah fell off a swing and was convinced that a ghost had pushed her.
“she was mad — still is, i think.” keira grins, glancing over to leah as she dances around the room.
“it’s a wonder i survived so long.” you agree, a smile on your flushed cheeks.
“i always thought you were it for each other, you know.” keira muses quietly, glancing between you and leah across the room.
“me too.” you take a large gulp of whatever drink georgia had forced into your hand 5 minutes prior.
“i still do.” you glance up at her in confusion, but keira’s slightly slurred words continue, “i know i’m drunk, and i know you are too, but i really think you shouldn't give up on her. she never gave up on you, not really.” at your silence, keira backtracks slightly, wincing at her own drunken word-vomit. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have- i know you're happy in spain now, i didn't mean to bring up old-"
"i’m moving back to london soon.”
and with that, you make your way to the bar to order another drink, eyes drifting around the room and automatically landing on the woman of the hour, who takes that as her cue to stumble over for the first time that night.
“dandelion! i didn’t think you were coming!” she shouts over the song that you know was once her favourite, wrapping her arm over your shoulder and squeezing you close in a once-familiar embrace.
“neither did i.” you admit quietly, never one to be able to lie to her.
“i’m glad you did, now we can sing our song!”
“no karaoke-“
“yes karaoke!”
and like no time had passed at all since you were leah and y/n, the blonde leads you to the small stage with a firm hand.
“one song, and then i’m sitting back down.” you say firmly, and leah simply grins, pushing a piece of hair out of your face as gently as she can with her clumsy hands.
“that’s my shy girl.” she coos as she pinches your cheek teasingly, and you simply roll your eyes. "you never were one for the stage, were you, dandelion?"
try to walk away but i come back to the start
led me to the floor even though i'm not a dancer
the night before your year 11 prom was spent in leah's bed — which was practically yours too with how much time you spent there growing up — laying side by side and staring at the ceiling as if the answer to why your cheeks were so warm was written above the bed.
"what if someone asks me to dance?" it's the first question you ask that betrays how nervous you really are for the upcoming event, and leah scoffs in response.
"tell them to shove off because you've already got a dance partner." the answer is so leah that you have to take a moment to roll your eyes, and because she apparently has eyes on the side of her head, she kicks you for it.
"i don't suppose that dance partner is you, is it?" you tease lightly, bumping your shoulder with hers and watching expectantly for her rebuttal.
"who else would it be?" she turns to look at you, blue eyes searching your face for the answer she knows she'll never get.
because the answer is nobody. there's not a single other person on planet earth you would trust to dance with you, and since there aren't any martians visiting any time soon, you'll stick with leah.
and stick with leah you do.
you're attached to her side when your mums take as many pictures as their cameras can physically hold, leah's hand settled on your waist and your head leaned against her shoulder as you stand outside your house. you pretend the blush on your cheeks is from the never-ending compliments from your families and the warm sun, and not the way that your best friend squeezes your hip gently to remind you pay attention to the cameras and not her.
you remain within arm's length of leah the entire night except for the 2 minutes that she disappeared to fetch you a drink that she knew you would need in the warm room, and even then she had tried to take you with her.
your interlocked pinky fingers keep you close as you make your way around the room, mindlessly chatting to your classmates.
you didn’t go near the dance floor, though, no matter how often leah tried to drag to towards it. you had made your opinions on dancing very clear and leah swore if that she heard the words “i’d rather die” come out of your mouth again then she’d kill you herself.
instead, the pair of you mingle with all of your friends and poke fun at the teachers’ outfits as they supervise the room with eagle eyes, though the blonde never lets up in her begging for a dance.
“come on, dandelion, just dance with me? please?” the pout on leah’s face is one you’ve seen many times in your decade of friendship, and not once have you ever had the heart to deny it.
“lee,” you whine, feeling your resolve crumble further when she steps closer. “i’m not a dancer. i don’t dance.”
“i do! i’ll show you how to do it.” she looks down at you with her most pleading expression, “please?”
“i’ll look-“
“you won’t look stupid, and don’t even think about suggesting it again.” she squeezes your pinky gently with her own, and you know you’re gone. “if anyone says anything, i’ll kick ‘em right in the face with these stupid heels — and that’s a promise!” you bite your lip hesitantly with a smile and leah presses further, “come on, y/n/n, please? don’t make me beg in-front of everyone here.”
“…fine. one dance.”
“that’s all i need, my girl.”
with leah’s hand in your own, you don’t feel nearly as nervous as you would’ve normally, and she leads you to the floor where you spend the rest of the night.
you find that you don’t hate dancing so much when leah’s your partner.
ask me all the questions that your parents wouldn't answer
"did you know that olivia in your geography class has two mums?”
it’s a tuesday night and leah’s in your bed. you’re 15 and there’s not much to do on a school night other than talk about whatever comes to mind. leah’s the first, tonight, and you wonder if she’ll finally let slip the reason she’s been deep in thought all day.
“really? she’s never mentioned it before.” you shrug, unsure of where your best friend is going with the conversation. “i guess she wouldn’t have a reason to, would she?”
leah bites her lip, clearly deep in thought. you have half a mind to tell her not to think so hard or her head will hurt, but you refrain.
“hey, what’s up?” you poke her cheek gently, hoping to snap her out of whatever headspace she was in. “you a homophobe or something? because i’ll have you know my cousin’s gay and-“
“i’m not a homophobe, you dick!” leah shoves you with a huff, and you grin at your success. “i’m just curious!”
“bi-curious or just curious?” you tilt your head, knowing it would only annoy her further.
“dandelion, i’m getting annoyed here.” she warns, glaring at you as best as she can with her 16-year-old baby face. “i’m just-“ she sighs, flopping back down on your bed. “do you think it’s…okay?”
“for?” you ask, laying down beside her.
“for two girls to…y’know, have a baby? get married?”
“i don’t see why it wouldn’t be okay?”
“i don’t see why either, but…” leah glares up at the ceiling. “when you think of getting married, what do you think of?”
you blink at the slight change of subject, but conversations with your best friend often go from topic to topic, so you shrug and answer honestly.
“cake- ow, leah! don’t hit me!”
“be serious for once!”
“i’m trying!” you huff, rubbing your shoulder from where she had so kindly elbowed you. “okay, when i think of getting married i think…a white dress, and some nice flowers. i think about songs i’d like to have play too. and cake.”
“what about who you’re marrying?”
“i don’t know, i never think of that.” you shrug, wondering what leah was getting at.
“well isla in our form class is convinced she’s going to marry jack, and she says she imagines it all the time. do you?”
“do i imagine marrying jack? god, no.” you snort at the idea. “he picks his nose still, did you know that?”
“y/n! be serious!” leah groans.
“stop beating around the bush and ask me what you really want to ask, then!” you huff, kicking her shin.
there’s silence for a moment, and you risk a glance towards the blonde.
she’s already looking at you — blue eyes piercing yours. “…do you ever think of marrying a girl?”
you roll over to your side and look back at her, eyes roaming over her freckled face that seemed awfully troubled for a simple tuesday night.
you shrug, “i dreamt i married lucy liu once, but i think that was because i fell asleep watching charlie’s angels.”
“was it…did it feel weird?” she furrows her brows the way she always does, and you reach out and press your thumb between them to remind her to stop.
“no, it was nice until she went all bridezilla on my dad. i can’t remember why, though. think he said her dress was ugly or something.” you remove your hand from leah’s face, but it doesn’t go far because the blonde reaches up and intertwines your pinkies and lays your hands on the pillow between your faces.
“i’d go bridezilla on him too. just for fun, though.” leah nods thoughtfully.
“and that’s why i wouldn’t marry you.” you roll your eyes, squeezing her finger.
“no? not even if i proposed with a million dandelions?” she asks with a smug smile, and you grin as she finally seems to relax.
“hmm…if you did that and got me a pretty ring, i wouldn’t say no.” you nod.
“the haribo ones aren’t good enough for you anymore?” she smiles, her eyes flickering between your own and your lips.
“diamonds are a girl’s best friend, lee. you gotta know that if you’re ever gonna propose to someone.” you poke her nose gently with your spare hand, and she grabs it with a gentle squeeze.
“i’ll keep it in mind.”
how could i deny a diamond in the rough?
it was awfully cliché, and you're aware of that, but leah had insisted that it was a rite of passage to play dancing queen on your 17th birthday, and so you allow the blonde to twirl you to her heart's content as the lyrics blare through your house. she sings along as she always does, never one to shy away from showing her passion for music and love for singing.
your families are scattered around the house and the back garden — leah’s grandmother playing scrabble with your aunt at the kitchen table, jacob kicking a football outside with your cousins, and both your’s and leah’s mums gossiping over a glass of wine while your dads manned the barbecue on the deck. to anyone else, this wouldn’t be considered a very good 17th birthday celebration, but to you it was perfect.
your other friends don’t understand that this is how you’d rather spend your birthday over getting drunk in a field (though, you weren’t opposed to that every now and then), and so it’s only leah who you spend the evening with, singing, dancing, and drinking as much as your families allow.
when it’s time to blow out your candles, it’s leah who stands beside you with a soft smile as your families sing the song you hate so much. it’s leah who presses a kiss to your cheek and tells you to close your eyes and make wish.
‘i wish it could always be like this.’
you open your eyes as watch as the smoke rises to ceiling, blushing as everyone cheers and claps, and giggling when jacob begs for the cake to be cut already.
“what did you wish for?” leah asks quietly, eyes solely on you as you watch your dad carry the cake over to the counter.
“you’ve asked me that almost everyday since we were 6, lee.” you chuckle, leaning into the arm she has around your waist. “and i’ve never once told you.”
“i was hoping today would be different.” she pouts dramatically, “but, alas, my dandelion keeps her secrets.” the hand she places over her heart makes you roll your eyes fondly, and leah simply continues her theatrics for as long as she can before getting distracted with a slice of cake — typical.
you can’t help but feel like today is different, though. maybe it’s just because your head feels a little fuzzy from the beers your dad had allowed you to have, or maybe it’s because leah’s arm had been wrapped around your waist all day and you wonder how you’ll cope if she never does it again. either way, there’s something in the air that evening, and you feel it close in on you when leah shoves a piece of cake in your face, smearing icing across your cheeks with a laugh so loud, you wonder if you’ll go deaf.
you freeze in shock when it happens, and even though you can see everyone in the room cracking up, it’s leah’s laugh that captures your attention, and it’s her smile that you want to shove a piece of cake into.
so you do.
war is declared that night, and despite your mum’s protests about getting food everywhere, you and leah find yourselves in a cake fight that resembles the great snowball war of ‘05.
your cousins and jacob join in, like all children do, and you can hear your dad placing bets on who’ll be the first to tap out, but your attention is solely on your best friend and how stupidly beautiful she looks when she laughs. you don’t know anyone in the world who could pull off a cake-smeared face so well, but leah seems to do it in a way that has your heart beating faster with more than just adrenaline as you run around the kitchen with cake in your fists.
you know you’ll regret this all when you have to clean up later, and you know your hair will never forgive you for the amount of chocolate in it, but in those moments where cake is flying across the kitchen and out the back door, you know you’ll be okay.
eventually, your mum puts a stop to it all and orders your dad to hose you all off in the garden (something he takes sadistic pleasure in as you all scream and run away from the ice-cold water, leah even using your dog as a shield while you used her), and your aunt ends up taking your cousins home before they could catch a cold.
people start to leave slowly, giving you one last birthday wish and a kiss to the head, until finally it’s just you, leah, and your parents.
your mum sends you both upstairs with a reminder not to stay up too late gossiping like always, and you and leah simply share a look before running up the stairs and attempting to push one another down them.
after you take turns showering and changing into some pyjamas, you both settle on your bed with the lord of the rings trilogy lined up for the 4th time that month, just because it was leah’s favourite.
“that’s you.” you point to the screen where gollum currently is, like you always do, and leah smacks a pillow down on your face, like she always does. “that never gets old.” you grin.
“it never gets funny.” the blonde huffs, stealing popcorn out of your hand instead from the bowl like a civilised person. “one day that mouth of yours will get you in trouble, dandelion.”
“is that a threat?”
“it’s a promise.” she nudges your shoulder with her own. “and i’ll have you know i look nothing like gollum; i’m far more beautiful.”
“that’s not a very nice thing to say about your twin, leah.” you shake your head disapprovingly, and leah scoffs.
“that’s it!” and before you can even begin to comprehend what’s happening, leah’s attacking you.
the pillow that was once behind her head is now in her hands as she swings it down on your face, and you barely have time to react before it comes down again. leah’s laugh is loud as you squeal, trying to escape her wrath to no avail.
“i surrender!” you finally shout after far too long, and leah grins triumphantly from her place above you.
your breathing is heavy, and your cheeks are warm, but leah’s eyes are comforting. they don’t hold your gaze like usual, and instead they glance down to your parted lips with an unrecognisable expression.
“you surrender?” she double checks, holding the pillow threateningly.
you nod, trying to catching your breath.
“and you won’t say anything else about my appearance?”
“my lips are sealed.” you nod, watching as leah drops the pillow
“i can’t think of anything clever to say about your mouth,” she says, brushing some of your hair out of your face gently, “i just…”
you hold your breath as leah leans in close, lips brushing against yours, tentatively, for the first time.
you think about the first time leah ever kissed you when you were 6. when you had just learned how to ride your bike and in your excitement to show your best friend, you stopped looking where you were going. you had hit the curb and flown over the handlebars and onto the pavement. it was leah who pulled you up to your feet, and it was her who pressed a magic kiss to your grazed palm to stop your tears.
you remember thinking it was best magic kiss you had ever gotten, because it worked in taking away like the pain like all magic kisses too.
now, though, you know it pales in comparison to this.
you don’t think anything could ever live up to feeling of leah’s soft lips on yours, and her gentle hold on your jaw. nothing will ever compare to the way she slowly pulls away, smiles at you, and then pulls you back in for another.
you led me in your world until you had enough
the day after your kiss with leah, you find that she’s nowhere to be found.
you don’t wake up to leah’s arms wrapped around you like you usually do after a sleepover, and a quick look around your house tells you that leah’s not downstairs critiquing your mum’s pancakes like usual either. your dog sits at the front door whining in the way he only does when he misses your best friend, and you wonder why leah left so early and where she could have possibly gone.
you find that as the day goes on, your worry for leah increases. she hasn't responded to — or even read — the numerous texts you've sent, and even jacob had simply shrugged his shoulders when you asked where she could be.
you're pretty much moments away from reporting her as missing when you hear her familiar laugh in the park near your house. you wonder if you've gone crazy enough to start hearing things, but once glance out your bedroom window confirms that leah is, in fact, at the park. she's kicking a ball around with some girls you recognise as her friends from football, and you wonder why she hasn't invited you like she normally does.
despite every cell and fibre in your body telling you to close your window and pretend you never saw her, you find yourself clipping the lead onto your dog's collar and walking him across the road like you had a reason to be there apart from confronting your stubborn best friend on why she had seemingly disappeared all day.
leah doesn’t notice you — if she does, she ignores you — as you approach, your dog tugging the lead with the insane strength that only appears whenever he sees leah.
“hey, y/n!” one of leah’s friends waves, and that’s when the blonde finally looks your way.
leah reluctantly kicks the ball away, sending her friends chasing after it, and turns to you with an air of coldness that you had never been on the receiving end of before.
“haven’t see you all day,” you remark casually, ignoring the way she rolls her eyes dismissively. “is everything okay?”
“yeah, fine.” leah shrugs, patting your dog’s head lightly as he happily licks her hand.
“oh.” you’re not really sure what to say after that. you watch her for a moment, taking notice of the way she avoids your gaze. “did you want to talk about-“
“look, i’m really sorry but my coach says i don’t need any distractions. can you leave me alone?”
with that, your best friend (?) walks away, leaving you standing there in confusion.
“coach says i don’t need distractions.”
you wonder if leah sees you as a distraction, or simply just the kiss. you hope it’s neither, but the way she seems to avoid you like the plague for weeks after your conversation tells you it’s probably both. she spends all her time with football, and even in school she seems to find a way to distance herself.
and so you see less of your best friend as her passion for football grows, and you feel selfish when you find yourself missing her.
you don’t understand why you can’t just be happy for her, but a part of you deep down knows that it’s because you don’t want her to be happy without you.
she is, though. and that hurts more than anything. leah seems perfectly fine to spend all her time with her football friends, and you find that your late night talks have been replaced with an occasional text asking about homework that never leads to anything more than a 1 minute conversation.
leah doesn’t call anymore, and so you don’t either. she doesn’t knock on your door and beg you to come out, so you take the long way around town to avoid her house.
you still attend her matches — because no matter how upset you are at her, she’s still your best friend and you’d always support her — but she doesn’t run to you at the end of the games anymore, instead she sticks close to her teammates and barely glances in your direction.
drifting away from leah is a slow process, and yet you feel completely blindsided because one minute she was your leah, and the next it felt like you barely knew her at all.
you knew that i wanted you to bend the rules
how did i believe i had a hold on you?
losing leah feels like losing a part of yourself, and you hate that it’s because, technically, you are.
you had always been leah and y/n.
when one of you wasn’t in school, teachers would ask the other where your other half was. when your mum made dinner every evening, there was always enough for another plate because she knew that your best friend would be there whether she was invited or not. when leah’s mum booked that family holiday to spain in 2008, there was an extra ticket with your name on it because she would never dream of separating leah from her y/n. you would never find one without the other, and that’s the way it always had been.
leah and y/n.
you don’t know how to just be y/n.
you find yourself looking to your side to tell her a funny thought that popped in your head, only to be met with nothing because leah’s not around anymore.
your parents don’t understand when you tell them you’ve simply grown apart, and neither do you, because ‘growing apart’ wasn’t in the cards for leah and y/n.
leah and y/n were supposed to stay together until the very end, even when the street lights turned off. leah and y/n were meant to stand by each other’s side, even when you were being lectured for stealing dandelions from mr. miller’s garden. leah and y/n were forever and always, like you had promised when you were 7.
but you’re not 7 anymore, and leah hadn’t given you a dandelion in so long, you wonder if you still know how to make a wish.
you were stupid to think you were ever important to leah. how did you believe you had a hold on her?
you were always stronger than people suspected
underestimated and overprotected
you knew that leah joining the senior squad for arsenal was inevitable — she was an amazing player with passion for the game and a love for arsenal that could rival even the biggest gooners.
it doesn’t surprise you at all to hear through the grapevine about leah’s permanent move to london, but you think that fate isn’t on your side when you find out she lives close to your new london flat that you share with your friends from university.
you’re just grateful that your busy school schedule and leah’s packed football life means no accidental meetings in the big city.
except it does. because of course it does.
you think maybe it's because your body had been accustomed to being near leah your entire life that it seeks her out even when you know it shouldn't. you think that must be why you always seem to bump into her no matter where you go.
it certainly doesn't help that you can't resist attending her matches too. call it routine, or simply call it love, but you don't think there's a single world where you wouldn't support the girl you once considered your best friend. watching leah play football had been a staple in your life for as long as you can remember, and there had been too much change in your life for you to ever consider giving this comfort up.
you pretend you don’t notice the way her eyes always seem to find your figure in the mostly-empty stands, and you always make sure to wear a jacket over your williamson jersey just so she doesn’t know that she’s the only reason you’re still there when everyone else goes home.
after a particularly good match, a few months into the season, leah finally picks up the courage to approach you. it had been months of longing stares from the pitch, showing off whenever she was near your section, and trying to catch your eye at the end of a match, and leah was now finally ready to speak to you.
properly. for the first time since she decided to be a coward almost a year ago and tell you you were a distraction instead of saying the truth.
the truth was that she loved you.
leah had loved you for as long as she could remember, and she was sure that she’d love you for the rest of her life.
the only thing to do now was ensure that you’d actually be in her life, so she could love you up close again.
it’s after a pretty intense match that leah finally had enough to confidence to approach you (after a few words of encouragement from alex, of course). you were sat in the stands, talking animatedly with another girl about the game.
leah swallows the brief feeling of jealousy, and walks towards your seat. you look up almost immediately, like you can sense her, and your expression doesn’t change. you pull your jacket tighter over your body, and leah catches sight of the red jersey beneath.
she hopes it’s her last name across your back.
“big fan?” leah nods towards your jersey as she leans over the barriers slightly, her voice surprisingly not giving away the nerves she was feeling at being face-to-face with you again after so long.
“oh, absolutely,” you agree, your voice dripping with the sarcasm that she knows too well, “i just love vicky losada.”
leah scoffs, “you’re wearing #6, really? let me see.” she gestures for you to take your jacket off, and you shake your head.
“6 my favourite number.” you shrug.
“14 is better.” she taps the #14 on her shorts pointedly.
“ever so humble, williamson.”
“you know me well, dandelion.” the nickname falls from her lips as easily as it used to, as if no time had passed at all since the last time she said it.
like you were still leah and y/n.
she seems to think so too, because leah grabs her own jersey and pulls it over her head. “here,” she says, holding it out to you, “it’s not a #6, but one day it will be. for you.”
you hesitantly take the warm jersey, “i’ll hold you to that.”
“wait, let me sign it.” leah grabs a sharpie that someone had left in the seat beside you and you hold the jersey out for her, trying to keep your eyes solely on her hands and not anywhere else. “there.”
“how much do you think this would go for on ebay?” you ask, folding the jersey and tucking it under your arm.
“not funny.” leah frowns, the familiar crease forming between her eyebrows. “you have to keep that.”
“we’ll see.” you grin, waving goodbye as you step back.
“see you next week.” leah waves, watching you go.
it’s only when you get home do you realise what she’s written on the jersey.
‘call me?’ with her phone number attached.
your roommate wonders what has you smiling so widely for the rest of the evening.
things with leah don't go back to how they were — you doubt they ever will — but the new normal, you find, isn't so bad either. it definitely helped that leah had offered a sincere apology for what she had said and how she had been acting with a collection of your favourite snacks, your favourite movie, and a dandelion she had insisted you use to make a wish about her embarassing herself at her next match — which she seemed to think she deserved for how she had treated you.
you don't bother telling her that when you close your eyes and blow on the flower, you only wish for the best for her, like you always have.
you want the best for leah, and a part of you deep down knows that you don’t fit into that idea anymore.
you cherish the time you spend with your once-best friend, and you let her cart you around london with her teammates for months before you break the news that you’re leaving for good.
when i went away it was the only option
couldn't trust myself to proceed with caution
the job offer comes at the perfect time. if you didn’t know better, you’d probably say it was divine intervention or the years of dandelion wishes catching up to you and granting you this once and for all.
either way, you don’t dwell on what causes your boss to offer you a position in spain, you simply give a grateful smile and ask when you can start.
you try not to think about the fact that spain reminds you of leah — of that family holiday you were invited to back when you were 9. you try not to think of the hours you spent playing mermaids in the pool and getting sunburned while eating as much food as your little bodies could handle.
you think you’d be able to find a connection to leah no matter where in the world you are.
every time you walk past a group of children playing football, you’re taken back the hours of running around fields with your blonde best friend as she dribbled past you like you weren’t even there — and then letting you take the ball back moments later because she felt bad.
every time you go grocery shopping, your brain subconsciously reminds you which foods leah does and doesn’t like, as if she’ll be popping around for tea like you live on the same street again and not in a whole different country.
leah didn’t take that easily, either — the fact that you wouldn’t be within in walking distance of her anymore.
you remember the way her eyes shined with tears when you showed her your transfer email. you remember the way she begged you stay, insisting that the better pay and higher position wouldn’t matter if you moved in together. she promised she would take care of bills, and that all you’d have to do is stay.
she didn’t understand that it wasn’t like how it used to be.
leah wasn’t the sun. not anymore. your life had to revolve around something else now.
spain is quite sunny, anyway. you’re sure you’ll find something new.
the most that i could give to you was nothing at all
the best that i could offer was to miss your calls
you settle into your new home quickly, and when you ignore the constant ache in your chest, you find that spain makes you quite happy.
leah calls more than she did when you were in london, and you find yourself purposely ignoring them for the sake of letting her down easily. you lived in spain now, and leah lived in london. it just wouldn’t work.
you wish you were a big enough person to pick up the phone, but you knew that the second you hear her voice again, you’d be back to square one.
the most that you can give is nothing at all.
try to walk away but i come back to the start
and it happens over and over and over and over again
over and over and over and over again
i wish i was over it, over it, over it, over it
even in spain, you think of leah.
you always think of leah.
you watch her games whenever you can — both for england and for arsenal. you buy a williamson #6 jersey when she changes her number and you wear it proudly whenever you sit in front of the tv and watch her play the game you had become so accustomed to.
the signed jersey from all those years ago is the one you wear to sleep. leah’s message has long since faded, and it doesn’t smell like her anymore, but the comfort it brings is the same as it always was.
every birthday, you find yourself staring at the candles wondering what you should wish for. back when you had leah everything, you could always come up with something new to wish for. now, though, you don’t know. there’s only one thing you want, and you can’t have her it. when you close your eyes, the warmth of the candles in front of your face uncomfortably familiar, you only see images of leah. you see her smiling, laughing, and playing.
you wish for her happiness.
you’re not sure what that means for you.
a hidden gem, my own goldmine
you had the wide and wild eyes
leah isn’t just your favourite footballer anymore.
she’s an inspiration to thousands of people, one of the best in her field, and you know deep down that you’ve done the right thing by leaving.
she’s doing everything she ever wanted, what does it matter if she’s not doing it with you?
you’re sure she doesn’t miss you, anyway.
you pretend not to notice when leah views your instagram stories, and you act like it doesn’t make your ache to reach out to her.
but you can’t.
you were a secret to yourself
you couldn't keep from anyone else
now you're the biggest brightest flame
you are a fire that can’t be tamed
you're better than ever, but i knew you when
leah williamson, england captain. but you remember when she was simply leah, the girl with legs too long for her body and a smile too wide for someone in the middle getting told off for tracking mud into her mum's kitchen.
leah williamson, european champion. but you were there when she was just leah williamson, the teenager determined to prove herself and make her family proud.
you held her when she had a bad game, and you cheered on the sidelines when she played her first match as a gunner.
before she was anyone else, she was your best friend.
but...she had always been more than that, hadn't she?
she was always meant for more than you and your garden bouquets and your late night conversations.
she was always going to be more than that little street on milton keynes, and maybe you had always known that you were doomed for heartbreak.
leah williamson had never really been yours.
not even when you were 16, and she told you she liked you the way girls should like boys.
she wasn't yours when she tentatively pressed her lips against yours for the first time on your 17th birthday.
she wasn't even yours when she promised she was.
she had always been her own person, and you were simply the idiot on the sidelines with your arms open for whenever she felt like being someone else’s for a moment.
she had never been yours, but you had known since the day she first presented you with a stolen flower when you were 6 that you were hers.
leah wasn't yours, much like that dandelion wasn't really yours either. because she had ripped it from the ground outside mr. miller's house much like she had done to your heart when she told you that you were a distraction.
you’ve had a long time to get over leah, and an even longer time to find yourself outside of being her best friend. but either you simply don’t want to, or that birthday wish you made when you were turning 17 really did come true, because you find that leah’s the only person you want even after years apart. even after leah had broken your heart and failed to fix it, you still want her to hold you at the end of the night and tell you everything she thinks and feels, and you want nothing more than to listen to her voice and the steady beat of her heart and know that you’re home.
you think that maybe it’s not a bad thing to still want leah. maybe you can start over. you can be leah and y/n again.
it's bittersweet to see you again.
you spend most of your time home falling back into routine with leah, much like the one you had when you were 16.
and while the conversations no longer revolve around who of your classmates fancies who, or how badly you think you did on your recent exam, you feel the same warmth on your cheeks as you did when leah first held your hand so many years before.
your inside jokes still make you laugh harder than any comedy show you've been to, and leah's arm over your shoulder fits better than that tailored coat you got for your 21st birthday.
being back with leah feels right, and that terrifies you.
because it was wrong, wasn't it?
it was wrong to look at leah and see everything you could've had.
but when she catches your eye and glances down to your lips with pink cheeks, you think maybe you'll always be the girls in milton keynes, and maybe the flowers blooming the ground would belong to you once again.
the grin on her lips makes you hot in the face, hot blood in your pulsing veins.
heavy memories weigh on your brain as she presses her lips against yours like they were coming home, and you register her slide something soft into your palm as she kisses you.
reluctantly, you pull away with bated breath and open your hand, peering down curiously at what you now hold.
a dandelion.
“make a wish, y/n.”
you glance up at leah — your leah.
“i don’t think i need to.”
405 notes · View notes
tpwk-formula1 · 14 days
Note
Hi, can I get the following with Max please:
- Gluten free crust
- Red sauce
- Olives
- Peperoni
- Jalapeños
- Chicken
- Roasted peppers
- Ham
- Argula
- Pulled pork
- Beer
- Pepsi
- Root beer
- Dessert
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
gluten-free enemies to lovers red sauce rough sex olives "Swallow every last bit. NOW!" pepperoni "Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want" jalapenos "Always such a fucking brat" chicken "Awe, you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" roasted peppers "Such a good whore" ham "You're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" arugula "I love stretching this pussy out" chorizo "God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you" beer edging pepsi oral kink root beer daddy kink served by Max Verstappen
TW mean max, face fuck, degrading terms, cum swallowing, pussy eating, unprotected set, slight size kink, multiple orgasms, edging, cummin on body
WC 2900+
Y/N POV
"Max they need you in the car now," I shout through the door trying to get Max to get out of his driver's room.
"Leave me alone little Horner," Max says walking past me and brushing shoulders with me quite aggressively. I just roll my eyes at the attitude radiating off of Max.
I just walk in the other direction not wanting to get into it with Max today. I was the daughter of Christian Horner, and Max and I have never gotten along. Even when we were both young teenagers we would still find a way to bicker back and forth. Back when we were younger it would be over stupid things like what type of coffee was better. Now, that we are older and I work for Red Bull Max has taken it upon himself to make sure to make my work life a living hell.
As the race day continues I watch as Checo is excelling on the Baku track while Max is currently fighting to not get overtaken by Lando who started in the back of the grid.
When Lando overtook Max I had to contain my laugh knowing the engineers around me were not enjoying Max's race. I think the race is pretty much a wrap when all of a sudden I watch as Checo and Carlos collide into the way making me cringe as all of Checo's hard work this weekend is down the drain in a matter of seconds.
I brace myself for the shouts that start ringing out in our garage even hearing Ferrari shouting from how loud they had gotten.
When the race finally finished under a VSC I continued watching as Max's starts overtaking Lando and George. I hear Lando start mentioning Max making me smirk a little. I knew he wasn't gonna get into any kind of trouble but it was funny listening in on him getting snitched on.
Once everything starts to calm down from the intense ending of the race I make my way back into the hospitality to pack up my stuff to head back to the hotel and get some rest before my early morning flight tomorrow.
"You're the last person I fucking want to see right now," Max shouts when I walk into one of the conference rooms to gather my laptop and the rest of my belongings I left in here during the race.
"I'm just getting my stuff," I say softly not wanting to get into a screaming match with Max.
"I'm sure you are," Max says rolling his eyes like I had told some lie.
"What are you getting at Max?" I snap at him when I make it to the corner where my bag of stuff is sitting.
"I just think it's ironic you just so happen to always be where I am. It's like you're fucking obsessed with me," Max says while standing up and approaching me, making me start to back up slightly.
When my back hits the wall Max is now standing face to face with me.
"Max, back up," I whisper starting to get a bit scared. Max and I had always gone at it but he had also never once gotten into my face before.
"Come back to my hotel with me. I'm fucking exhausted from fighting off the sexual frustration," Max says making me gasp before laughing slightly.
"you're fucking insane if you think we have sexual tension between us and you need to go to a mental hospital if you thought THAT would work on me," I say before pushing him back and attempting to try and leave.
When Max grabs my wrist I groan knowing he wasn't done with the conversation.
"One night, let me fuck you till the sunrises and then we go back to whatever this is," Max says making me step to him so we are back to being chest to chest.
"No," I simply say trying to turn around again but stop in my tracks when Max shouts again.
"One fucking night," Max shouts. I instantly turn back around pushing at his chest a little making him stumble.
"Max if I go back with you and you don't have me on the edge of cumming within 5 minutes I'm getting up and going back to my room," I tell him sternly.
"I only need 2," Max says cockily making me shake my head before leaving the room.
When I get back to my hotel room I take a quick shower and get partially ready kind of hoping the plans between Max and I weren't just a heated discussion after a bad race.
I'm not even halfway through brushing my teeth when I get a notification on my phone letting me know Max had texted me. When I finished brushing I picked up my phone to see what Max said
"Be here in 10. 342"
I quickly change before stepping out of my room to head for the elevator to head up to Max's room. I feel like I should be having doubts but to be quite frank, I have wanted Max for far longer than I want to admit. He was right there has been sexual tension between us for years but neither one of us trying to admit it.
When I get in front of his hotel room I hesitate before knocking knowing whatever happens tonight will change everything.
"On time, I'm fucking shocked," Max says when he opens the door to let me in.
"Max, what the hell are you on about?" I snap at him not even being able to last 30 seconds without us fighting.
"You're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" Max says casually making me stop in my tracks and stare at him.
"You're a fucking dick. And don't flatter yourself you have 5 minutes starting now," I say making Max instantly approach me and pull me in for one of the most intense and aggressive makeout sessions I have ever been a part of. I can feel the sparks flying almost instantly. Max picks me up and carries me into the other room where his bed is before he places me on the bed and starts pulling up my shirt making my breath hitch slightly.
When Max has my shirt off he instantly unclips my bra and flings it across the room before pushing me down softly to lie down.
As soon as my back hits the mattress I feel Max's hands making quick work at pulling my pants down leaving me completely bare in less than a minute.
"neuken," Max mumbles making me lift my head slightly. I've known Max long enough to have picked up on some of his Dutch.
"What," I snap worried that something was wrong.
"God the prettiest pussy," Max mumbles before diving right in and pulling my clit into his mouth and instantly sucking it making me arch my back and throw my head back.
"Fuck, Max," I whine when I feel his fingers teasing my entrance.
"How are you already this fucking soaked," Max groans into my pussy sending a new set of vibrations to my clit making me whine again.
"You, Max. It's always been you," I groan when I make eye contact with him. I can see the smirk written all over his face.
Max dives back making me whine. When two of his fingers slip into my tight pussy I instantly scream in pleasure feeling my orgasm approach far faster than I wanted.
"You're fucking close already," Max pulls away slightly to making sure to keep finger fucking me making me moan and nod my head.
"Yes, daddy," I moan without thinking making both Max and I stop almost instantly and stare at each other.
"Daddy?" Max questions with a smirk and before I can even say anything he's fucking me with his fingers far faster than he was previously.
"Max I'm gonna fucking cum," I moan out making Max pull his fingers out leaving me on the edge.
"What the fuck," I shout sitting up slightly so I can look Max in the eyes.
"Awe, you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" Max questions with a smirk making me wanna slap his.
"5 minutes are up. I'm leaving," I say while trying to get up but Max is instantly holding me down not letting me move.
"You said I had 5 minutes to bring you to the edge of cumming, I did," Max says with a smirk taking my words far to literal than I would have hoped.
"Max just make me fucking cum," I say getting frustrated, never being good at handling being edged even though it's one of my favorite things.
"No, not until I get my little nickname again," Max says with a smirk making me scoff and shake my head no.
"Well until then I'm gonna enjoy this pussy," Max says before putting his fingers back into my pussy making me gasp before he starts licking my clit bringing all the pleasure flooding back into my body making me moan.
"Fuck, Max so good," I whine. I knew my orgasm was approaching but instead of announcing it, I tried to hide it.
"Always such a fucking brat," Max says when he pulls his fingers out and moves his mouth from my pussy denying my orgasm again.
"Max," I say seriously.
"No, you know what you need to do, and don't be a fucking brat and try to hide it. I know this body far more than you think," Max says sternly before sending a harsh slap on my pussy making me jump slightly.
Max doesn't waste much time to start playing with my pussy again and it doesn't take me long for my orgasm to slowly start approaching again.
"Fuck," I moan feeling myself crawling to the edging and needing to cum.
"Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want," Max says making me whine.
"Please Daddy, let me cum," I finally break down and beg how Max wanted. This had Max speeding up his actions and throwing me over the edge within moments.
"Fuck, Daddy," I scream when he keeps fucking me even after helping me ride through my orgasm.
"God, you scream too good," Max says finally pulling away after torturing me with overstimulation for a few moments.
When I catch my breath I sit up softly getting out of bed before standing in front of Max pulling him in for another kiss and starting to work on undressing him.
When Max is finally undressed I pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed before getting on my knees for him.
"Such a good whore" Max mumbles when he sees me on my knees getting ready to pull him into my mouth.
When I finally get ready to pull Max into my mouth I realize just how big he was. I hesitate slightly not knowing if I would be able to take him all the way into my mouth but decide there is only one way to find out.
When I pull his tip into my mouth I can taste the salty precum he was already leaking making me suck it up getting addicted on the taste.
When I start bobbing my head I realize Max would still have another inch or so left that I wouldn't be able to take into my mouth so I bring one of my hands to jerk off the rest.
"Fuck, your mouth is finally useful," Max says making me groan around his cock and pinch his thigh with my free hand.
When I pull back from Max's cock I feel the my spit trailing from his cock to my lips making the scene all the more erotic.
I take a few deep breaths before getting back to work on Max's cock needed to make him cum.
I could tell Max was getting close faster than I thought he would which had me bobbing my head faster trying to take all of him into my mouth, before Max is pushing my head down making me gag while he starts cumming down my throat.
I can feel some of his cum leak out of my lips from how hard I was gagging around his cock but Max didn't seem to care too much as it make his hips buck trying to ride his orgasm out.
"Swallow every last bit. NOW!" Max demands when he pulls my head from his dick making me swallow instantly.
"You're a messy slut now," Max says with a smirk making me look over to the mirror that was in the room. When I see my face I have tears running down my cheeks, my freshly washed hair was all over the place, all the while my lips were swollen and pink and covered in my spit and Max's cum. He was right I was messy.
Max roughly wipes my lips rubbing my spit and his cum smearing it on my cheek before he is pulling me in for a heated makeout session again.
"I need to feel that pussy around my cock," Max mumbles against my lips making me whine. I nod my head letting him know I wanted it too.
"Fuck me please daddy," I beg.
This has Max hauling me off my knees before being roughly tossed onto the bed where Max is on me within seconds.
We spent several minutes making out and grinding on each other before Max was fully around again and I was soaked.
I feel Max's cock teasing my entrance making me arch my back in anticipation. When he slowly starts pushing in making me whine at the stretch.
"I love stretching this pussy out," Max groans once he was fully filling me up, giving me only a few moments to adjust before he starts slowly rocking his hips making me whine.
"So big," I gasp out when I feel him hit my cervix for the 3rd time in a row. The pain and burn of being stretched was starting to fade and all I could feel was the pure pleasure coursing through my body now.
"I'm not gonna last Daddy," I moan out warning him of the strong orgasm that was currently impending.
"God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you. Your wrapped around my cock like a fucking slut being all sweet now. If I would have known this would work I would've fucked you years ago," Max groans through clenched teeth making his thrust even harder but keeping the same brutally fast pace.
"I'm gonna cum daddy," I announce just before exploding into my first squirting orgasm making my pleasure fly all over both Max and I. I can hear Max groan but I'm so lost in the pleasure I don't even feel him pull out and start unleashing his load of cum all over my stomach.
"Fuck," Max shouts which finally brings me back enough making me realize I was now covered in cum, but I was far too blissed out to care.
Max only took a couple of seconds before he got up and threw on a pair of boxers. I knew if I tried to stand right now my legs would give out on me but I didn't want to overstay my welcome so I slowly start pulling myself out of bed feeling Max's cum start sliding down my body making me cringe slightly at the thought of putting my clothes on top of it.
"What are you doing," Max says while holding a rag and watching me attempt to get up.
"I figured you wanted me to leave," I tell him softly while still pulling myself together before standing up. But before my feet can even touch the ground Max is on me.
"Lay down," Max says softly showing me a completely new side of him. He starts with wiping my face down making sure to clean all of the spit and cum off of it before wiping my tummy clean of his cum before throwing the rag somewhere in the room and crawling into bed next to me.
"I might be a dick, but I would not let you stumble back to your hotel room covered in my cum like that," Max tells me softly pulling me into his chest so I can rest my head on him.
"Where do we go from here," I ask softly.
"I think we should start with being nicer to each other and maybe admitting there's always been more," Max replies making me nod my head.
"I know we did it backward but I don't want to rush anything," I tell him softly. He just nodded in agreement before pulling me in a little tighter.
" We don't rush anything but I want to be exclusive," Max says firmly.
"I can do that," I reply making him not his head.
"Fly home with me tomorrow," Max says randomly making me laugh a little.
"What happened to not rushing," I joke but nod my head in agreement knowing I definitely do want to fly with him. Even if it means exposing ourselves to a few of his grid friends.
It didn't take long for sleep to take over my body and right before I was fully asleep I felt Max place a soft kiss on the top of my head mumbling a soft I love you.
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