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brokenmenswhore · 3 months ago

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a proposition: a departure | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius, featuring alecto, dorcas, evan, lily, and mary)

warnings: not proofread, smut (MDNI 18+), rough sex (biting/bruising/choking, full moon remus), period sex

────── ☾ ──────

Sirius,

You all probably guessed I'd do this again. I know it's never gonna happen between us. But now, you have to know that whenever you do get Y/N, I had her first. Good job playing favorites, Black. Next time maybe don’t be so desperate.

I really thought that coming back, things would be different, but you lot aren't worth my time anymore. Tell Lily I said bye. Tell Dorcas to fuck herself.

-Marlene

Sirius squinted in the sunlight as the wind breezed through his hair, the cigarette between his fingers wafting smoke into Remus's face as Remus finished reading the letter.

He passed it to James, who read it quickly before dropping it onto the bench Sirius was seated on. James leaned his back against a tree as he sat on the grass. "Well shit."

"Guess that problem is gone now," Sirius said, blowing out smoke.

“Why’d she even come back in the first place?” James asked, “just to spite you?”

Sirius shrugged.

“Guess Ilvermorny still had a spot for her,” Remus said.

“I really couldn’t give a fuck where she goes,” Siri snapped.

“Upset she left again, Pads?” Remus teased, knowing he was poking the bear.

“Fuck you,” Sirius responded.

“You can’t seriously be this mad just because she fucked Y/N.”

Sirius didn’t respond, he just did his usual deflection: taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Is it like a power play thing? Cus she’s a little younger?” James pried, “is that why you like her so much?”

“I do not like her so much.”

“We’re your best mates, Padfoot, we know you.”

Sirius took a deep breath. “What do you want me to say, hm? Yeah, I’m pissed Marlene fucked her, but only because I feel bad that Y/N had to endure that shit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Remus smirked.

“Shut up,” Sirius snapped.

“Cool off,” James said, “Remus has also fucked Y/N. Multiple times. Are you gonna rip him apart with your teeth for it?”

Sirius just sighed and ignored the question.

“Just talk to us,” Remus pleaded, “tell us what’s going on.”

“She doesn’t know I’m the one Marlene fell for,” Sirius said, his hair falling in front of his face as he stared at his hands in his lap, “I mean, she might have figured it out, but I never told her. I doubt anyone else did.”

“What does it matter if she knows?” James asked.

Sirius took a deep breath. “It doesn’t. Never mind.”

“C’mon man, don’t shut us out,” Remus pleaded.

Sirius stretched out his back and tucked one side of his hair behind his ear. “I’m not.”

“Padfoot.”

“Moony.”

“Padfoot.”

“Moony.”

“Fucking talk to us.”

“I am talkin’ to you.”

Remus threw his hands up. “Okay, okay. But whatever the fuck is happening with you and Y/N is gonna have to come out eventually. It’s easier if you just say it now.”

Sirius contemplated, and James and Remus thought they got him to the point of speaking, but instead, he took the lit end of his cigarette and pressed it against the edge of the parchment from Marlene, watching as it burned away in his hands.

“Good riddance,” Sirius said.

────── ☾ ──────

If Marlene’s plan was to shake your confidence, it was working.

The day after you had sex with her, she bolted again. You tried not to think so self-centered about it, but you had a gut feeling that you were involved in her decision somehow.

“Am I bad at sex?” you blurted out.

You and Remus sat alone on a hill, the only two of the group who weren’t attending a brunch in the great hall.

“What?” Remus replied, “why would you ask that?”

“It’s just, you know- you know Marlene and I did it, and then the next day-“

“Stop right there,” Remus said, “Marlene has always been, and will always be, frustratingly complicated. Don’t blame yourself. Some of us are actually pretty thrilled she left again.”

You shrugged. “I just get the feeling I had something to do with it. Is that selfish?”

“Not at all,” Remus said, and contemplated for a moment before saying, “you didn’t do anything wrong. She was destined to hate you from the moment she learned Sirius was the one who wanted you first.”

“Why?”

“C’mon, Y/L/N, I know you’re smarter than that.”

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew. If you thought about it, it wasn’t hard to decipher. Marlene always sat next to Sirius, made comments about her time with him, and it would help explain her disdain for you. You remembered how vague Sirius was about her every time she came up, and how he didn’t specific who she had left over when you asked him that first day she came back.

“So it was because of me,” you sighed, “I caused all this drama.”

“If you really wanna trace the root of the blame, I’m pointing the finger at Sirius,” Remus smiled.

You pouted, but Remus continued, “no one is to blame. Marlene has always been a firecracker.”

You let the words sink in, but Remus could still tell something was off.

“We’re all really happy to have you around,” Remus said, nudging your shoulder with his own.

You let out a deep breath. “Is Sirius mad?”

“Why would Sirius be mad?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sirius is complicated. But he never reciprocated what Marlene felt. Never wanted what she wanted. And Marlene doesn’t like to take no for an answer.”

“So what happened? She pursued him and got upset when he said no?”

Remus sighed. “She didn’t tell anyone what was going on, she just kept going to Sirius. They fucked a lot, but she never let on that it was anything more for her. We all agreed we wouldn’t let it get there; she should have called it the second she started feeling it. One night, we were all hanging out, and a couple of girls came over and started flirting with Sirius. He’s always been a flirt, the smooth bastard. We all knew he wasn’t gonna do anything, but it bothered Marlene. She got in a really physical fight with one of the girls.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. The girl said she didn’t know Sirius was dating her, and Marlene said she was. Sirius got mad, and Marlene started shouting about how it should have been obvious that she was in love with him. When she stopped yelling, she told Sirius that she wanted him to be exclusive with her because she has feelings for him, and that she didn’t want him to sleep with anyone else. Sirius said no.“

“So she left?”

“She didn’t speak to any of the guys for four days. Then she tried to flirt with Sirius’s brother in front of him. Yeah, everyone outside of the group was off limits, but Sirius’s little brother was super off limits. Still is, so don’t get any ideas,” Remus winked at you, “Sirius and Marlene got in another fight, and she literally got on her knees and begged him to date her. I kinda felt bad for her, honestly. He turned her down again, and she threw a lamp across the room. The next morning, she was gone, and Dorcas found a note saying she was spending the rest of the semester, and probably another one, at Ilvermorny in America. And that was that.”

You nodded slowly. You couldn’t help but pry. “Why’d he say no?”

“What?”

“Why’d he turn her down? I mean-“ the sentence was lost in your throat.

“Sirius isn’t that kind of guy,” Remus said.

A moment of silence.

And then, “well, at least he wasn’t.”

“Meaning?”

“Sirius isn’t the crazy sex-fiend everyone thinks he is,” Remus said, “never was. He’s got the lowest body count of any of us. James has us all beat at this point. Anyway, Sirius was never a settle-down-with-one-person kind of guy. It takes him a while to get fully comfortable with someone. It took a full year after we started having sex for him to even take his shirt off in front of me. He’s gotten a lot more confident since then, but still, that person has always been inside. So when he did get comfortable with someone, like he is with everyone in the group, all he wanted to do was have a good time and not worry about it. He’s also pretty fucking horny all the time.”

“Is that why he hasn’t tried anything with me? He’s not comfortable?”

“Nah, I don’t think that’s it,” Remus said, leaning back on his hands in the grass, “I think he doesn’t know how. He’s different with you.”

“You keep saying shit like that,” you said.

“Because he was always so insecure, Sirius has never been, even with his newfound confidence, someone we ever expected would willingly suggest someone to add to this group. But he wanted you.”

You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Why?”

“I think he’s feeling something a little unfamiliar.”

“Do you always speak in riddles?”

Remus laughed. “I think he likes you, not in the way he likes Dorcas, or Evan, or Lily. Maybe not even me. I think you make him feel in control- like what he says or does matters. Like one small look has an impact on you. That’s not something he’s used to.”

You took a second to process everything you had been told. You had Sirius completely wrong. All you wanted was to give him a hug.

“You’re also wicked hot,” Remus added, “so that probably helped.”

You smiled and nudged his shoulder to show your appreciation for him lightening the mood.

“So you never answered my question,” you said, changing the subject slightly.

“Hm?”

“Am I bad at sex?”

“You must be kidding,” Remus said.

“Avoidance tells me everything I need to know,” you joked.

Remus giggled. “‘Course you’re not bad at sex, baby, otherwise I wouldn’t be so damned obsessed with you.”

Remus leaned over and bit at your neck, pushing you until your back was against the grass.

“Rem!” you squealed, playfully pushing him off of you.

Remus continued to nip and suck at your neck, refusing to let up.

“Remmy! We’re outside!” you protested.

“If you don’t want me to fuck you, you shouldn’t be calling me Remmy,” he nearly purred, “you know what it does to me.”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

Remus growled as he leaned down to kiss you. “Someone horny?”

“I get,” you let out a breath, fighting through the embarrassment, “I get like that on my period.”

You thought it would turn Remus off. It did the opposite.

He kissed you, pressing you even more into the ground as he hungrily gripped at your hips.

“Rem,” you tried to catch his attention between kisses, “Remmy, we’re still outside.”

Remus stopped to look you in the eyes. “And?”

You nearly whispered, “I’m not gonna fuck you outside, Remus! We could be seen.”

“I really don’t care.”

Remus leaned down to kiss you again.

“I’m on my period, Remus, Remus-“

“Don’t care,” he said between kisses, “don’t care that we’re outside,” kiss, “don’t care about your period,” kiss, “full moon in two days,” kiss, “I want you now.”

“But the blood-“

“I don’t care,” kiss, “about the blood,” kiss, “if you don’t,” kiss, “it actually,” kiss, “makes the wolf in me,” kiss, “need you even more.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing.

“The wolf in you?” you giggled, “that sounds so ridiculous.”

Remus just watched you laugh.

“I can’t believe,” deep breath through the laughs, “that you’re literally a wolf.”

When your breathing calmed down and you blinked up at Remus, he was smiling down at you in adoration.

“You done?” he asked.

You giggled. “You’re a wolf.”

“Mhm.”

“And isn’t Sirius a dog?”

“Baby.”

That caused your breath to hitch for a moment. “You called me baby again.”

Remus’s smile just grew. “Mhm.”

A throat-clearing cough sounded behind you.

You both looked behind you to see Sirius standing there, a book in his arms, and no cigarette to be seen.

“I’m a little busy, Pads,” Remus said, squinting slightly in the sunlight.

“Professor McGonagall is asking for you,” Sirius said matter-of-factly.

Remus bowed his head into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath before kissing your shoulder and hoisting himself up. He flicked Sirius’s chest as he stepped past him to go toward McGonagall’s office.

You sat up and smoothed your hair out, trying to look decent as Sirius sat next to you in Remus’s spot.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sirius said, only a slight inflection of unseriousness in his voice.

“You didn’t, you didn’t,” you responded, “wasn’t like I was gonna have sex out in the open.”

“Kinda seemed like it,” Sirius smiled.

You turned to him. “You’re not gonna ask me about Marlene?”

“Do you want me to?”

You looked off into the distance. “Not really.”

“Then we don’t need to talk about it,” Sirius said, swinging his bag onto the ground in front of him, and pulling out two crepes.

“Here,” Sirius said, gesturing one toward you.

“Where’d you get these?” you asked.

“Stole ‘em from the kitchens.”

You blinked in confusion. “What were you doing down by the Hufflepuff dorms?” The Hufflepuff dorms were next to the castle kitchens.

“Stealing crepes,” he said casually.

“You went all the way to the Hufflepuff hall just to sneak into the kitchen and steal crepes?”

Sirius shrugged. “Or maybe I went to find you, and had to pivot,” he said, turning to you and winking.

You blushed, just like you always did when he even so much as looked at you.

Sirius tilted his head like a puppy, lifting your chin and looking into your eyes. “You still gettin’ all blushy around me?”

“Shut up,” you said, taking one of the crepes from him.

When you were both about a quarter of the way through your crepes, you broke the silence to say, “now I’m thinking it’s weird if we don’t talk about it.”

Sirius nodded and set his crepe on the ground, shifting so that he was sitting facing you, his legs crossed beneath him. He shook the sugar off of his hands and looked to you expectantly.

“Why didn’t you tell me she had feelings for you? Is there some reason you didn’t want me to know?”

Sirius took a moment to think through his answer. After taking a breath, he said, “Marlene and I have a complicated history.”

“Remus told me what happened,” you said.

“I didn’t want to put you in the line of fire.”

“I can handle myself,” you said, “I feel like I deserved to know.”

“You did,” was all Sirius said, “but I didn’t want you to have a skewed perception of me.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Why would I have skewed perception of you?”

“Because I would have had to explain that I turned her down because I don’t do relationships,” he said, “but- fuck, Y/N.”

“Why would that matter? I already knew that going into this, Sirius. What aren’t you telling me?” you asked as gently as you possibly could.

Sirius didn’t speak. He leaned forward, and in a split second, was on you, pressing his lips against yours.

You instantly molded your lips with his, one of your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

He growled lowly as his hand found the side of your head, holding you as he moved his lips against yours. He slightly pushed your head even closer to his own, eager and hungry.

His tongue asked for entrance, and you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to find your own.

Just as Sirius started to unfold his legs to lean over you more, a group of fifth year Quidditch players ran up the hill behind you, laughing and talking loudly.

You and Sirius pulled away from one another like you had just been caught red handed, and stared into the distance.

────── ☾ ──────

You nearly screamed as you woke up to a hand over your mouth. You blinked your eyes open to see Remus looming over you in the darkness.

“Relax,” he whispered, and when you nodded your head up and down, he uncovered your mouth.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered back, “how’d you get in?”

“I had my ways,” Remus said, “I need you. Now.”

You squinted your eyes toward the clock above the dormitory door. “It’s twelve-thirty in the morning, and I have dorm mates.”

“I cast a silencing spell. They won’t hear,” he said, stroking your hair gently, “please. I need you bad.”

“At twelve-thirty in the morning?”

“Y/N, for fucks sake, I’m trying to hold it back right now, but there’s a full moon tomorrow night, and it’s literally taking everything in me not to just rip your clothes off. I only have it in me to ask once. I need you. Please.”

Heat and wetness pooled at your core as you observed the ravenous look in Remus’s eyes. You had heard many anecdotes about how crazy Remus became with sex before a full moon. It made you unspeakably horny.

“So take me, then.”

Remus growled as he nearly pounced on you, straddling your waist as he kissed you hard, pulling your clothes off of your body as quickly as he possibly could.

He ripped the buttons of your nightshirt as he pulled the fabric apart, exposing your breasts to the cool night air.

“Mine,” he said, his voice low and deep, as he licked and nipped at your breasts.

He kissed a trail back to your neck and bit down, not hard enough to draw blood, but not the softest he could either. You whined, and it only egged Remus on more.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, baby,” he whispered into your ear.

"Period," you said, "remember?"

"Only making me harder," Remus admitted.

He trailed his hand down your navel and rubbed his thumb over your lower stomach, watching as you shuddered in anticipation. He moved his hand lower, but completely avoided your core, opting to shift to your thighs and lovingly rub the skin there.

You swallowed hard, your want growing desperately as you waited for him to touch you where he needed you most.

When he moved his hand again, he traced above your folds, but still refused to touch you where you wanted.

You bucked your hips in hopes that it would move his hand, but he wasn’t budging. He grinned as he watched you. “You want something?” he teased.

You were so desperate that you could cry. “Please,” you gasped out.

“Please what?”

“Please, Remmy, touch me,” you begged.

Remus gripped your hips hard and flipped your body so that you slammed down on the mattress onto your stomach. You squealed in surprise as he hoisted your ass upward. You lifted your front up on your arms and turned your head to watch Remus dive in between your legs.

Moans spilled from your lips as he tasted you like you were his last meal on earth. He was not gentle at all. His tongue moved faster than you thought it possibly could. The intensity had your spine lifting and dropping as you breathed heavy, and you nearly couldn't stand it.

You knew that asking for anything would only add to his arousal, and you wanted to see the full extent of near-a-full-moon Remus worked up. So you whined, "Rem, I need more."

Remus chuckled. "Already bein' so rough, baby. You want more? You think you can handle it?"

You nodded your head furiously against the pillow. "Please, I'll be good."

Remus, without teasing or warning, slid two fingers inside of you and knelt behind you, leaning over your back so that his voice was directly next to your ear. You cried out at the feeling of his fingers fucking into you, and he growled into your ear, "yeah? You wanna be a good girl? Someone feeling submissive?"

There was something about a man kneeling beneath you and focusing on your pleasure that did, in face, make you feel a little submissive. You didn't always want to be, especially now that you were comfortable enough with se to be experimental, but Remus was being so aggressive and possessive and you liked him so much.

"Yeah," you whimpered, "please."

"Please? Please what? Be a good girl and use your words," he taunted.

"I'm gonna come," you nearly gasped.

Remus increased the pace of his fingers, biting your shoulder as your walls pulsed around him. You pressed your face into the pillow, but Remus yanked your hair, pulling your head backwards. You rested on your neck, which was uncomfortable, but completely worth it to be manhandled.

"I wanna hear you," he said.

You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm hit you hard, coating Remus's fingers as he withdrew them from you.

He brought them to his lips and sucked the come and blood from them. You turned your head and watched as he cleaned his fingers, ridding them of any period blood.

The orgasm felt almost the same, but the pleasure helped rid your stomach of the constant knots it was doing this period cycle.

Remus bent back down behind your ass and licked a stripe on your core, causing you to shudder and your thighs to shake.

"You taste so fucking good," he said.

"Sadist," you joked.

"Not quite," Remus said, kitten licking the blood dripping down your thighs, "werewolf."

Remus got up and knelt over you again, one hand anchoring himself against your hips, and the other holding him up next to your head. "Mine," he said, harshly slapping your ass.

His eyes did not leave your face. He gave himself a few strokes of preparation, lined himself up to you entrance, and slid himself into you, all without drifting his eyes once.

Your back arched. You felt a cramp begin to hit your lower stomach, but as Remus thrust all the way out and then fucked entirely back in with one harsh stroke, the pain subsided.

Your body jolted forward, and he did it again. His thrusts were rough, almost as if he was trying to see just how deep he could bury himself inside of you.

He grabbed your hair and pulled so hard that your back hit against his chest. He wrapped the hand around your throat while the other held your hip, holding you against him as he roughed you as rough as he possibly could.

"Mine," he said, nipping at your neck.

You moved one arm behind you to tangle your fingers through his hair and keep him close to you, the sweat and heat from his body giving you an anchor to reality.

"Mine," he chanted like a mantra, "you're fucking mine."

You twisted your head to the side to kiss him, and his hand traveled from your throat to your jaw, holding you there as he stuck his tongue into your mouth, maintaining dominance of your entire body.

He pulled away for a moment, said "need you closer," and pulled out of you, motioning for your to twist around.

You shifted on your knees, and Remus placed your arms around his neck. "Hold on," he said, scooping his arms under your thighs. You instinctually wrapped your legs around his waist, and he backed up off the bed, standing tall as you clung to his body.

He fucked back into you again, gripping your ass as he moved your body in tandem with his.

He kissed you again, and you held onto him as closely as you could, leaving absolutely no room between your bodies.

"Tell me you're mine," Remus moaned.

You could barely speak from the intensity and the new angle. You just whined in response.

Remus, knowing he was strong enough to hold you up with only one hand, moved his other hand to grip your jaw and force you to look at him. "Fucking tell me you're mine."

Something told you that near-a-full-moon Remus was not to be denied.

"I'm yours," you whimpered.

"Say it again." He fucked you faster.

"I'm yours."

"Again."

"I'm yours, Remmy."

Remus kissed you roughly as he pounded into you, and you could tell he was getting close. His groans and grunts in your ear pulled you to another orgasm, and just as yours hit, Remus came with a roar.

He pulled out of you and fell forward onto the bed, trapping you between the mattress and his body.

"Fuck," you said.

Remus took a moment to look your body over, and be gently kissed any bruising on your shoulder or neck. "'M sorry, baby."

Trying desperately to catch your breath, you choked out, "woulda stopped you if I didn't like it."

Remus let out a satisfied hum and kissed you softly.

────── ☾ ──────

The next morning, you rushed to the Gryffindor dorms and waited for Lily to open the door. The moment she did, you enlisted her help to cover the bruising on your neck. Your shoulder was covered by your uniform, but you most certainly did not want to walk around the castle with what looked like a hickey.

You thanked her once it was covered, and followed her to the Great Hall for breakfast.

The group was in high spirits since Marlene left again, Dorcas especially.

As you sat down, you heard Sirius ask Remus, "so where did you disappear to last night?"

Remus finished chewing and then said, "wanted a snack."

"The fuck does that mean?" James asked.

Remus just shrugged his shoulders. No one was discreet about sex, but Remus didn't know where your comfortability level was. You didn't know it, but he was also playing it very safe around Sirius, who he knew might kill him if he learned that Remus left you covered in bruises.

"I wanted a snack," Remus said, "I look like I fuckin' speak in riddles?"

James threw his hands up. "Bloody hell, maybe."

Sirius said, "like in the kitchens?"

Remus smiled. "Almost."

You blushed as he looked to you and winked.

James caught the wink. "Merlin's beard, Y/N, you really do have your favorites."

"Hey hey hey," you said, "in my defense, he came to me."

"Take it easy, James, it was his last night before he goes to the Shrieking Shack, remember?" Lily said.

Sirius whipped his head toward you, then to Remus.

Dorcas let out a high, cheer-like noise. "Congratulations on getting to experience full moon Remus, Y/L/N! It's pretty fuckin' sexy, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, I nearly bruise when it's me," Mary added.

"Me too! Luckily Remus is really careful not to actually bruise, but bloody hell he's rough. Ain't that right, Remus?" Dorcas smiled.

Remus only smiled and winked at you.

Lily added fuel to the fire. "You guys can't notice concealer for shit, huh?"

You were blushing like crazy, fighting to stop yourself from curling into a ball of embarrassment.

"No fucking shit," Dorcas said, pulling one side of your shirt collar and exposing one of the bruises on your shoulder, "Remus!"

Remus threw his hands up in the air. "Listen, she said she liked it, ok? Don't hate the player."

"You said you bite the headboard to keep yourself from biting us!"

"She said she liked it!"

"So you just bit her?"

"Maybe."

You hid your head in your hands.

Dorcas pat you in the back. "Good for you, Y/N. The innocent little Hufflepuff might be the biggest freak of all of us."

You smiled at Dorcas as she resumed eating her breakfast.

The group moved on, talking about exams and gossip, but when you looked to see Evan speaking next to Sirius, your eyes caught on Sirius's. He was looking straight at you.

You raised your eyebrows in a way that was meant to ask him what he was looking at you for.

Are you hurt? he mouthed.

You nodded your head no. Promise, you mouthed.

Still, he didn't seem to relax. His nostrils flared as he maintained his staring at you. You furrowed your brows in a way that was meant to ask him what else he was still staring at you for.

He turned away.

────── ☾ ──────

"You good?" Remus said, setting his robe down on his desk as he slumped down in his chair.

"Fine," Sirius nearly seethed.

"Man, you've been pissy all day. What's going on?" Remus pried.

Sirius took a deep breath. "You know what."

"I don't."

"If you're smart, you should."

"Well I'm dumb, so enlighten me," Remus challenged.

Sirius took a deep breath and turned to Remus, his hands leaning on the back of his own chair. "You fuckin' covered her in bruises."

Remus sat up a bit. "That's what this is about? Are you fucking serious?"

"You promised the girls that you wouldn't hurt them near a full moon, Remus. You fucking lied to them."

"No no no," Remus stood up, "that's not what this is about. You couldn't give a fuck if I lied to the girls. No, you're mad because it's Y/N, aren't you?"

"I'd be mad if it was any of the girls." Remus only pursued the girls near the full moon, in part due to wolf mating rituals, and in part because it was too easy to hurt the boys if he was too rough too fast.

"I don't believe you," Remus said.

"Boo hoo."

Remus stepped closer to Sirius. "You were literally the one who made 'no feelings' a rule."

"I do not have feelings for Y/N," Sirius defended.

"Oh, I'm sure."

Sirius stood tall. "You've got her walking around looking like you fucking beat her up, Remus, I'm allowed to be mad."

Remus took a deep breath to try and keep his cool. "It's not like I threw her around against her will, Pads. She liked it."

Sirius didn't respond.

Remus stepped closer to Sirius "She liked it so fucking much. She was begging for more before I even fucked her proper. And she's even hornier on her period."

Sirius turned so that he and Remus were face to face.

"C'mon, do it," Remus challenged.

But he knew that Sirius wouldn't hit him. He knew that, at the end of the day, Sirius was aware when he was acting out of turn. Sirius had no claim on you. He just hated that it felt like Remus now did.

"Fuck off," Sirius said, turning away and digging through the bag set on his chair.

"You have feelings for her. I honestly didn't think you were capable."

"I'm not," Sirius said.

"Admit it."

"No."

"You're mad because she's walking around with my bite marks on her body and not yours, and you're mad because she turns to me when she wants to be fucked."

"You tryna bait me, Lupin?" Sirius seethed.

"Maybe."

"Stop."

"C'mon, Sirius, talk to me."

Sirius sighed. His voice came out soft and concerned, a complete 180 turn from the rest of the conversation, as he turned to his best friend in the entire world. "How can you be sure you didn't hurt her?"

Remus smiled softly. "I promise you I would have stopped if I thought I was hurting her more than she wanted or could handle."

Sirius let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding in. "Okay."

────── ☾ ──────

taglist: @riddlemenottsluttyslytherin @hcqwxrtss123 @prongs-wolfstar-marauders @flowersarcute @remussbitch @alwaysanundertone @urfavhanna @donovorita28 @randomcreator-09 @joey-hoey @chronically-sh-ana @pinksmellslikelove @blvebanisters @aaronhotchswife @roseblack1864 @chaevvonders @champomiel @the-flaminhos @ilovesugurugeto69 @sammyreid @treefairy-28 @aza-writes @made-for-oliverwood @kaileygirl444 @livslifeonline @hi172826 @greyeyedmockingbird @prettylittlewrites @st0rmzi3 @butterchicken06 @yarri0 @camslut7 @ilovewhiteboysforlife @moonyxstars @charlxzagzy @maxinehufflepuffprincess @maverickgalathynius @bmyva1entine @hizzielover @hoe-for-sukuna @panhoeofmanyfandoms @psychobitchsthings @lily-mylove @squirreljoe @5implyd1vine @prongsvids @starrystormwritings @sunshineangel-reads @your-good-girlll

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littlegrapejuice · 2 months ago

Text

Grid Mum 4 | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: The calm before the storm- and the storm - that was the Miami Grand Prix.

Author's Note: idk what happened but inspo was just gone???? Like the miami gp was just not it and i wasn't motivated at all to write it, esp when i was getting ideas for the next parts given that imola was already happening😭 hope you still enjoy this part, even tho it was made w half love lol

F1 MASTERLIST🏎 | Previous Part | Next Part

You needed a break. Max needed a break.

You both debated going away for a week before the Miami Grand Prix was to happen, but then you decided otherwise. You and Max would simply stay home in Monaco, not putting one foot outside until you would have to leave for the US.

The plan was simple: sleep, eat, drink, watch stupid TV shows, and repeat that every day.

But then, the plan changed when your phone started blowing up.

You and Max had been back for a couple days already, having updated the rookies about your whereabouts and wishing them a good rest before the next race. However, it seemed that they eventually took it as their cue to invade your couple time and transform it into family time.

The first text was from Ollie, wondering if you wanted to have lunch with him after he had finished biking with Carlos.

The second was from Liam, asking if you were free to play some video games.

The third from Kimi, needing a reminder on how to use a maths formula because he couldn’t read his own handwriting.

The fourth from Gabriel, sending you a recipe that you could try together.

The fifth from Isack, just wanting to visit you.

And the sixth from Jack, offering you to join him on a shopping trip.

You were about to reply to all of them, until Max stole your phone and started typing.

“You better be nice to them!” You warned Max, trying to read what he was writing.

“I always am”, he claimed while hiding the screen away from you. “Please, don’t contact my girlfriend anymore during our break. You’ll see her next week in Miami”, Max read out loud as he typed the words. “And I signed my name, obviously.”

“Obviously”, you repeated as you rolled your eyes. “I would enjoy seeing them, though. You know that?”

“I know, yeah.” Max handed you your phone back, leaning back on the couch as he glanced at you. “But focus on me for the next few days, please?”

It was hard to refuse his request when he was looking at you with such love in his eyes, his voice soft and almost pleading. You had to admit that spending some peaceful and romantic time with Max sounded perfect right now – exactly what you needed after the triple header.

And Max was right, you could always wait until Miami to see the rookies.

But it seemed like they couldn’t wait until then.

After texting each other in a groupchat you weren’t a part of, they agreed to give you a couple days of rest alone. Then, some of them decided that they missed you a bit too much. So that’s why one evening, you ended up with a facetime from Ollie and Gabriel.

“Hello!” Ollie said as soon as he saw your face on his screen. He turned his phone to the side for a second, showing Gabriel who waved at you. “I hope I’m not bothering you by calling, but we have a slight issue.”

“Hi, you’re not bothering at all. Everything alright?” You noticed that Ollie and Gabriel were outside, and wondered if they were having a problem in the streets of Monaco.

“You can’t be mad,” Ollie warned.

“Why would I be?” Straightening up on the couch, you were almost getting worried.

“We wanted to surprise you with dinner”, Gabriel explained as he re-entered the frame, “but we got lost.”

“Lost? Wait, we’ll circle back to the dinner thing after. But what do you mean you’re lost?”

“Well…” Ollie scratched the back of his neck, seemingly nervous. “I asked Liam for your address, and he didn’t really give it. Like–”

“He just gave us directions from Ollie’s place, but I think we took a wrong turn somewhere.”

“How do you even get lost in Monaco?” Max, who had just appeared behind you, asked. He had his arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow at the rookies.

“Give them a break, Max.” You then focused back on Ollie and Gabriel. “He’s not wrong, though. Kinda hard to get lost in such a small city.”

“Not our proudest moment for sure”, Gabriel admitted.

A silence then settled for a few seconds, as you debated over your next course of actions. While you were thinking, the rookies were already expecting you to tell them to go home and forget about their surprise dinner. But you thought about how sweet it was of them, and decided to welcome them to your home after you exchanged a glance of confirmation with Max.

“Tell you what: Gabriel, I’ll text you my address and you look it up. Ollie, you stay on the phone with me and I’ll guide you if necessary. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, thank you so much!” Ollie’s smile was bright and wide on your screen. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

“I’ll set the table, then”. Max sighed and then left from where he had been standing behind you, walking to the kitchen.

For the next ten minutes or so, you stayed on facetime with Ollie. You could hear Gabriel guiding him through the streets of Monaco, occasionally confirming to him that it was the right way. Then, the two rookies eventually arrived in front of your building and you hung up before ringing them in.

It seemed that they hadn’t been lying about their so-called surprise dinner, as you noticed that they both had their hands full with bags when they entered. You helped them settle everything down on the counter, putting out the food as they listed what they had brought.

“Okay, so I made mini pizzas. Like loads of them with different garnitures, we just gotta cook them. I also brought muffins – Liam recommended a place where he bought some when he was here.”

“Thank you so much, Ollie.” You smiled at him, before handing the pizzas to Max for him to put them in the oven.

“And I brought feijoada, which my mum helped me make. It’s a specialty from back home,” Gabriel explained.

“Okay, wow. This all sounds great, thank you boys.” You didn’t think your smile could get bigger, but it did. “Go sit down if you want, Max and I will finish preparing everything.”

“You’re sure?” Gabriel asked. “We can help.”

“Yeah, we definitely can!” Ollie agreed with a passionate nod.

“It’s fine, don't worry. Just go and watch some TV,” Max told them as he motioned to the living-room. “We’ll take care of the rest, thanks for the food.”

“No problem”, Ollie said before he and Gabriel went to sit on the couch.

The rookies observed the room, trying to look for every little detail that would help them know more about you and Max. They obviously noticed the rather out-of-place simulator, which was a harsh contrast to the carefully decorated shelf next to it. They saw that there were a lot of pictures of you and Max throughout the years, amongst which a few seemed to have been taken during race weekends.

After they had analysed almost every picture depicting yours and Max’s love story, they decided to follow Max’s instructions and turned on the TV to find something to watch while waiting for the food to heat. Meanwhile, you and Max were still in the kitchen.

“So much for a bit of peace before Miami,” Max mumbled into your shoulder as he hugged you from behind.

“I know, I’m sorry. But how could I have refused when they just wanted to get dinner with us?”

“It’s okay,” Max assured you. “They’re lucky they didn’t try to pull this move last week because you were all mine.”

“I’m always yours, though. You know that,” you reminded him as you turned around to face him.

“Except when I have to share you with the kids”, Max said. His arms were around your waist, which helped him pull you closer to him.

“Even then, I’m still yours.” Your tone was soft and loving, almost making Max fall all over again for you. You gave him a kiss during which you felt him smile against your lips, before you escaped his hold. “Gonna check on the food, wait.”

Max leaned back against the counter as he observed you making your way around the kitchen, opening the oven and carefully looking at the food as if it would tell you itself that it was ready. You confirmed to Max that it was indeed good to go, and you both brought the food to the table.

“What are you kids watching?” Max asked as he stood behind the couch where Ollie and Gabriel were sitting.

“Still channel-hopping,” Gabriel replied. “We’ll just turn off the TV anyways if we’re eating.”

“Wait, no. Check the sports channel first,” you requested.

The Brazilian driver did as he was told, suddenly aware of how focused you were on the TV as you were waiting to see what was on. A couple seconds later, burnt orange filled the screen as the sound of applause could be heard.

“Okay, that seems like a good one.” You quickly sat down next to Ollie, waiting to see more info about what was happening. “Food is ready, by the way. So we can eat after they finally show who the hell is playing.”

Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for the drivers, there was a tennis match ongoing. As soon as you were aware of the current score and watched a couple points, you reluctantly got up from the couch and made your way to the table – your eyes weren’t leaving the TV and Max knew he now had to explain your attitude to the rookies.

“We’re done for, guys.” Max sighed, as he shook his head with a smile on his face. “She won’t pay attention to us if there’s tennis.”

“That’s a lie!” You denied. “I’ll talk to you during changeovers”, you told them with an innocent smile.

“Do you like those players?” Ollie wondered. “I never knew you followed tennis.”

“Because I have to pretend to like the padel you all seem to enjoy so much.” You tried to be dramatic, but there was honestly a part of truth. Padel wasn’t as entertaining as tennis to you, and you were definitely complaining everytime Max wanted to talk to you about it. “Tennis is superior, and you need to realise it.”

“You’re very passionate about it”, Gabriel pointed out.

“Trust me, she is. I remember when Sinner was in Abu Dhabi last year, she begged me to arrange a meeting between them.” Max was teasing you, never planning on letting you live this down.

“Because you were literally hiding the fact that you had met him!” You reminded him. “I had to hear about it from Oscar, who casually mentions my favourite player is in the same paddock as me.”

“Oh, I met him too!” Ollie added. “He’s such a nice guy, really cool too!”

“And that’s why he’s my back-up plan if Max ever leaves me. Those two would be as well if they weren’t happily taken,” you said as you pointed to the TV where Ruud and Fritz were playing.

“Once again, I am not planning on ever leaving you because you are happily taken too”

“You better not,” Gabriel warned. “We’ll take her side anyway.”

“True”, Ollie agreed with a confident nod.

You laughed at the support the rookies were showing you, knowing that you would win custody against Max. Not that you would ever have to fight him for it, because Max would soon make sure that you were tied to him for life.

Although it had become kind of a late dinner due to Ollie and Gabriel getting lost, the four of you still enjoyed the food while the tennis match was playing in the background. You thanked the rookies for taking the time to cook, complimenting their skills that easily surpassed Max’s – he tried to accuse you of lying, but you both knew that Max was a good cook only if you were not far away from him and the dish was simple enough.

If anyone were to observe the scene that was taking place, they could only be able to guess that you were a real family. You and Max might be seen as very young parents, probably victims of teen pregnancy, but the love and care that you were giving the rookies would be extremely obvious to everyone around you.

You thought that you would only be talking about racing with three drivers sitting at the table, but you realised that you had more in common as you all shared bits and pieces of information about your respective lives. The rookies told you about their girlfriends with wide smiles, and Gabriel promised to introduce you to his in Miami. You told them about the first time you went on Max’s jet, still unable to properly register how normal it was for him.

The atmosphere was warm and light-hearted just like when Jack and Liam had been here, but this was still a unique moment. A moment that would only belong to you, Max, Ollie, and Gabriel.

…..

It was quite late when you were done with dinner. You were munching on the last muffin – the three men having silently agreed on leaving it for you – as you noticed the time.

“We won’t have any right to complain about the new timezone if we don’t make any effort to rest before having to adjust to it”, you pointed out.

“I’m comfortable here, though. But I hate that you’re right”, Ollie sighed as he reluctantly got up.

“You’ll come to realise that she’s always right”, Max joked.

“I already realised that you are always on her side”, Gabriel said.

“Because it’s either I’m right or he’s wrong”, you explained. Seeing the gears turning in Ollie’s and Gabriel’s heads was hilarious as they tried to understand your words. “Do you want us to walk you back? Monaco’s pretty safe but I wouldn’t want you to get lost, again.”

“We should be fine”, Ollie assured.

“I’ll walk you back, don’t worry. That’ll be the post-meal physical activity”, Max said as he stretched his arms.

“I’m coming too, then. Nothing like a good late-night walk.” You were ready to put on your shoes like the drivers, until Max stopped you.

“You can stay here,” Max told you. “Finish watching your little match and tell me all about it when I’m back, okay? I’ll bring them home safely.”

You nodded, before kissing Max on the cheek and hugging the rookies goodbye. They thanked you for the hundredth time to have welcomed them into your home, and wished you a good night. You would next see them in Miami for the upcoming race weekend, hoping that this one would be good to them.

When the drivers left, you immediately went back to watching tennis as told by your boyfriend while he led Ollie and Gabriel in the streets of Monaco.

“Sorry if it annoyed you that we came tonight,” Gabriel eventually said. “We just wanted to spend time with you and her.”

“Mostly her,” Ollie added with a teasing tone. “But yeah, I know we were supposed to wait until Miami.”

“Which we absolutely didn’t”, Gabriel concluded.

“I would have refused if I didn’t want you there,” Max told them. “I know I was all grumpy about it last week, but tonight was actually nice. And it makes her happy as well to see you, so I won’t go against that. Plus, the food was great so thanks for that because we were actually ordering way too much take out recently.”

“Next time, we’ll call before we go out and not while we’re in the middle of going to yours.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Max put his arms around Gabriel’s shoulders. “Or I’ll tell Fernando to drop you, I don’t know.”

“You do know you don’t sound really threatening right now?” Ollie pointed out.

“Because I’m not trying to be,” Max admitted.

This was the type of conversation Max enjoyed having with the rookies: pretending to be a bit mad with their overwhelming presence when he was actually soft around them, almost showing them more love than you did. But Ollie and Gabriel knew that Max was being genuine. They had eventually heard a bit more from Liam and Jack’s dinner, which confirmed that it was just Max’s personality.

It highlighted how well you and Max worked together: you were the extroverted one and he was more introverted, but deep down you were both the same. Max was more subtle: he didn’t use his words as much as you did, rather showing things through actions that could sometimes go unnoticed. You loved loudly and proudly, while he did it more quietly in ways that felt just as meaningful.

And this was how it went with the rookies, which was something they wouldn’t trade for anything else in the world.

…..

If anyone asked you how you would describe Miami this year, you would answer that it was… eventful.

And not necessarily in a good way.

It had started somehow fine.

Although flashy and packed with celebrities, the atmosphere was one of your favourites. Sure, you didn’t think that three races in the US were needed; but they knew how to bring out good vibes.

Friday had gone particularly well; you were especially happy for Max and Isack, but even more for Kimi. After a good FP1 session, Kimi had become the youngest pole sitter in the history of Formula 1 during the Sprint Qualifying. Barely four hundredths were putting him in front of Oscar, and you could only hope that Kimi wouldn’t trample down the grid to get his first F1 podium.

“I’m so so proud of you Kimi”, you had told him once he was done with his interviews. “That’s a huge achievement, congrats!”

“Thank you!” Kimi was beaming with happiness, over the moon due to his performance. “I don’t know if I can keep the lead tomorrow, but I’ll try my best to at least stay within points.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” you encouraged him.

“Also, small request: can you tell your boyfriend to let me get a podium?” Kimi was mostly joking, but he knew he would be under threat from Max who was starting right behind the two McLaren.

“I could try, but no promises.” You chuckled at Kimi’s words, knowing that Max would do everything in his power to get above his starting position and you couldn’t do anything against it.

For once in your life, you were clearly going to be supporting someone other than Max. Kimi definitely deserved his sprint pole, and he was also absolutely deserving of a win one day. Maybe it wouldn’t happen in his rookie year, but points had been a constant result for him and a podium was therefore at least possible before the end of the season.

Still, you would obviously be rooting for your boyfriend too and that’s what you did on the next day during the sprint race. But then, everything went downhill: Red Bull messed up Max's pit stop, which led him to an unsafe release as he slightly collided with Kimi who was in the pit lane to box as well.

You couldn’t help but wince as the TV showed the replay of the incident, and you hoped that it wasn’t going to put either of them at a disadvantage given that Kimi hadn’t had the opportunity to actually change his tyres. Even if it hadn’t been Max’s fault, he would still get penalised from his team’s mistake and that would eventually lead to the less than glorious result that was P17.

Safe to say, Miami wasn’t treating your boyfriend nor the rookies well for now. The groan you let out when you saw Max’s name dropping to the last place was filled with annoyance at Red Bull, as you cursed them in your head. Due to the safety car that had been triggered by Alonso crashing a couple laps before the end, the gaps had been so close between everyone that Max didn’t have a chance of at least staying in points.

The weekend hadn’t really started as a lucky one for Max. But fortunately, he proved to everyone that he was still at the top of his game when he put his car on pole later in the afternoon during qualifying. The margins were really close between Max and the cars behind – barely a few hundreds of a second separating each driver. Kimi would eventually get another chance at a podium, starting P3 on the grid, while the rest of the rookies were scattered once again outside of points.

You wanted to be hopeful, wishing for your boyfriend and grid kids to have a good race. Max would get a second opportunity at winning something in Miami this weekend, and Gabriel would be ever so close to finally scoring points as he had reached his first Q2 of the season.

You wanted everyone to do well, you really did.

…..

However, things didn’t go as you wished and you were now clearly unwell after the race – it almost made you think that you were actually cursing the drivers with your hopes and support.

Max going from pole position to right outside the podium was something – the McLaren were in a whole other league this weekend, but four out of the six rookies DNFing was worse. You didn’t think a race this year would be as traumatising as Melbourne, and yet here you were in Miami.

Thankfully, everyone was physically fine. It was the mentally part that you couldn’t be sure about, though. It was really a sharp contrast from the joy the drivers had all felt earlier during the Lego cars race that had replaced the traditional drivers’ parade. They had all been so happy, having fun like little kids opening their presents on Christmas day.

And now, it almost seemed like they had spent a day experiencing the horrors of Ferrari with how down they all were.

“I wish we were legal so you could take us out drinking”, Ollie told you with a sigh. “We need to drown our sorrows in alcohol.”

“Even if you were, we’re not getting drunk to forget the race. Usually we get drunk to celebrate the race,” you clarified.

“Then we get drunk to celebrate my P6?” Kimi suggested.

“Shouldn’t you be working on your homework instead?” Liam teased. “It’s almost past your bedtime, and you wanna be drinking.”

The other rookies snickered at Liam’s words, while Kimi frowned.

“Says the guy who didn’t even finish the race…” Kimi mumbled, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Okay, that’s it. No race talk anymore”, you warned. You weren’t about to hear any more comments about the race results, knowing that they could still hurt some of the drivers even when disguised as a joke. “We’re not going out to drink. I think we all need a good night of sleep, so I suggest you get back to your hotel rooms and rest. Is that okay with everyone?”

“Yes, mum.”

Despite their voices being filled with sarcasm, you couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face. You would never dare consider yourself their actual parent, but being their grid mum always left a warm feeling in your chest whenever you remembered that they actually enjoyed your presence.

After agreeing to get some sleep – and also realising that they definitely had early flights the next day, the rookies reluctantly left you alone. Bidding them goodbye, you didn’t hesitate to give a longer hug to the ones who’d had unlucky races. You could feel the way they were holding you a bit tighter than the others, not really wanting to let go of the comfort you were providing them.

Now alone, you decided to find Max. He had told you earlier after the race how he wanted to spend a bit of time on his own, which you didn’t mind. It only took him one second to answer your call, and the loud background noise that could be heard made you think that he wasn’t on his own anymore.

“So much for alone time?” You rhetorically asked with a scoff.

“Well, Lando and George were quite persuasive. Wanna join us? I could really use some moral support after this difficult weekend.” Max’s tone could only indicate that he was exaggerating, as a dramatic sigh left his mouth.

“You’re asking so nicely, how could I say no? Text me your location and I’ll be there when I can,” you told Max. Looking down at your outfit, you figured it could survive a longer night than planned.

Max was over the moon when he saw you walk up to him – the alcohol in his blood definitely made him happier – and you were immediately engulfed into a hug when you were within his reach. Chuckling at his attitude, you then didn’t hesitate to kiss back when Max’s lips were suddenly on yours.

“No PDA tonight, please.” Lando’s voice interrupted your kiss with Max. Putting an arm around your shoulders, Lando tried to pull you away from your needy boyfriend. “You, my friend, are going to be drinking the night away with us. The party can finally start now that we have the better Verstappen here!”

“She’s not a Verstappen yet, Lando.”

“Yet?” You repeated with a smirk. “You plan on marrying me one day, then?”

“Of course, I’d be dumb not to.”

If you and Max were having this conversation just the two of you in a quiet place, maybe it would’ve been romantic. But the loud music combined with Max being more than tipsy, as well as Lando third-wheeling, just made the moment funny to you.

“Glad we’ve cleared up the obvious,” Lando said in reference to you and Max being married in the future. “Now, it’s time to have fun!”

Finally pulling you away from Max, Lando led you towards the bar where George already was.

One shot turned into two, then three. Soon enough, you weren’t really counting anymore and were simply enjoying the night. You danced with Lando – terrible dancer when sober and even worse when drunk, then with George – you had to admit he had some moves, before finding yourself in Max’s arms once again.

You were definitely having the most fun ever. It was always chaotic to party with drivers, but you didn’t care about how loud the music was or how drunk you were getting when the atmosphere was just the right one.

And maybe you would regret it the next morning, especially when your head would be throbbing in pain, but for now you weren’t thinking about the consequences.

Except that one consequence would eventually be a dozen texts from the rookies who had seen you partying – courtesy of Lando who had posted pictures – after you had told them to go to sleep early.

So much for resting

Hope the hungover was worth lying to your KIDS – Gabi

“Good night of sleep” she said🙄 – Liam

Can’t believe that “WE are not going out drinking” was actually just meant for us – Kimi

That’s like next level betrayal💔💔

We might forgive, but we won’t forget – Ollie

Unbelievable… – Isack

The fact that I was legally allowed to come with you – Jack

..........

Taglist: @umm-i-love-u @callsign-mirage @freyathehuntress @elieanana @suns3treading @fastandcurious16 @l3thal-l0lita

Thank you sm for reading🫶🏻🫶🏻 hope you liked this chap!!

Next one should be out before monaco, and it'll be a v short part focused on jack after he got sacked by alpine (I'm still sad and heartbroken for him😔)

Don't hesitate to like, reblog, or comment<3 also you can request some stuff you'd want to happen next and I'll do my best to include it if it works w what i planned to write :)

See you soon, take care of yourselves, love y'all xx

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x you #max verstappen x you #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv1 x you #grid mum series<3

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lenneygirl4ever · 4 months ago

Text

the alchemy || Will Lenney

“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”

part one of THE ALCHEMY. part two here

pairing: will lenney x fem!reader

warnings & tags: friends to lovers. idiots with tension. idiots in denial. slowish burn. lots of nerdy football talk + a side of Willne.

summary: The two times you were recruited to play in a Sidemen charity match, and the one time you score.

a/n: hello!!! this is based on the 2022 sidemen charity match, but for convenience purposes, it's set in 2023. for the plot, of course.

also, i’m tired of looking at this so this is being posted without review! i promise part two will have more will, i’m just setting us up for success in part one. you’ll absolutely love it.

please enjoy <3

wc: idek at this point

The buzz that interrupted your sleep wasn’t what concerned you, it’s the fact that after you had hung up the first and second time, there was a third call. Begrudgingly, you toss your sheets aside and sit up, eyeing the phone on the bedside table. To no surprise, it was Simon.

You were no stranger when it came to working with the Sidemen. Starting off as a crew member who was good with a camera, slowly you were incorporated into videos, and eventually had the confidence to create your own platform. After leaving the Sidemen to focus on building your solo career, most of your audience didn't know where you gained your footing, becoming a bigger public figure outside of their work.

Getting a phone call from Simon wasn't uncommon, needless to say. You were always ready to film, to bring in new ideas for them, to be on set. After all, you had been friends with the lads for years.

"Hello?" you croak, trying to smooth down the hair that was knotted in the back of your head.

"Y/n! How are you, mate?" Simon's voice was overly chipper and sweet, too sweet. You eye your phone for a moment before pressing it back up to your ear. It was too early in the morning for either of you to be awake.

"Christ, Simon, I know you aren't just calling me at seven in the morning to ask how I am," you replied. Simon sighs briefly before letting out an airy chuckle.

"Alright, I need to ask you for a favor." That's what you were expecting. His voice hesitant and low, it made you wonder what this could really be about.

"Okay, go on then," you yawn. You weren't sure why Simon was being so ominous; you had done the lad loads of favors in the past. Bringing in extra camera crew, reaching out to other influencers, helping plan out events-

"Would you sub in for Andres for the charity match next week? I know it's last minute, but he had other conflicts, and you're one of my best mates. You-" Simon rambles before you swiftly interject.

"Simon, what are you waffling on about? You can't be serious," you say seriously. The grogginess from waking up immediately disappears, and you begin to regret picking up the phone.

"I know it's mad, but we've tossed around a ball quite a bit before-"

"I haven't seriously played footy since I was in high school! I can't imagine the shit I'd get if I were to even step foot into that stadium."

"I know-"

"And I'm the only girl! That's like a misogynist's nightmare, a woman who can think and compete!" Getting on your feet, you pace around your room like a madman. Your free hand finds its way into your hair, coarsing through it multiple times, stressfully.

"Would you let me finish? Then you can decide if it's bollocks or not," Simon asked finally. You heave out a breath of air and then hum in response. The least you could do is give him time to try to convince you.

"Look, it's the first time a lot of them have played football, and some of them play like it's the first time. It's really about having a good time, " he explains, which admittedly puts some of your worries at ease- and gets a small laugh out of you.

"Also.." he says hesitantly, hitching his breath as he trails off. You roll your eyes and groan. Of course, there's more to it; there always is. You sit back onto the edge of the bed, foot impatiently tapping on the wood floor.

"I may have called Will, and he may have told me to ask you; he promised me that with enough begging.. you'd say yes," he says, almost like a question. There's a small hint of teasing when he says it, and you can practically see the prat smiling through the screen.

Your end of the call goes silent. A flush starting at the tips of your ears and growing at the bulbs of your cheeks.

In 2018, the day before the charity match, you met Will in person for the first time. You knew of him through brief passing and mentions of him from Cal and the other Sidemen. Yet you never spoke to him until you were messing around with your camera during practice, getting ready to film the match the next day.

"This is who I was telling you about, Will," Cal smiles, grabbing your attention from the camera. You peer over your shoulder to see a younger lad with dark hair standing beside him. You politely set the camera down on the bench and extend your hand out to him.

"Hi, I'm y/n, I've heard good things about you!" you smile, and he leans down, weakly taking your hand and shaking it.

"Hello," he responds, his once loud chatter with Cal made you assume he'd be much more talkative. But now he is quiet and fidgety, and it makes you wonder if you've already made a bad first impression.

"Y/n is our best camerawomen. I ought to get you familiar with her; maybe you can get some good screen time." Cal smirked. Will shoves him lightly with a chuckle.

"I'm not all bad, I reckon," he insists, and you put your hands up defensively.

"Hey, we'll just have to see on the field, won't we?" you express, grabbing the large equipment and getting ready to move it inside. You stand up, getting a better look at his face. He's tall, his hair short and freshly cut, his jawline is carved out sharply, making it hard to go unnoticed.

"Cheeky," Will commented, crossing his arms over each other. And unknowingly, a grin had worked its way onto your face, your tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek. You shrug,

"I gotta get going, it was nice meeting you Will,"

Since then, you and Will have kept in contact frequently. He interacted with you on social media, had you come to feature in his videos, and texted you almost every day. Seeing one another once every few months had become every weekend when you moved closer to London. And you can bet that this didn't go unnoticed by anyone. Sharing clothes, traveling together, posting each other, seeing each other more than your own family— you can only assume why everyone has their presumptions.

Yet, you were great at denying, avoiding, and more importantly ignoring these blistering questions on if they or won’t they.

"So.. you called Will first, before calling me?" you ask slowly, processing it yourself. The pads of your fingers rub against your temple, then smoothing your palm across your cheek hoping it would brush away the pink that dusted your face.

"Yeah," Simon says quickly. "Is it more convincing now? "

"Fuck off,"

"I know it is," he insists. You mutter profanities under your breath before letting it go silent.

Because it is much more convincing knowing that Will had that kind of faith and trust in you. It's more convincing knowing the person closest to you would be right by your side. You weigh out the options in your head. If you do play, you'll get to say you played in front of 30,000 people, raised money for charity, and more importantly, were able to help out some of your closest friends.

"Simon, I don't know.." You mutter hesitantly, biting the nail on your thumb. Sure, you had played footy competitively in high school and tossed a ball around here and there with the lads, but other than that, you hadn't really played in a few years now.

"C'mon, you don't have to be any good, it's for charity y/n! You have to! There will be loads of fans happy that you're playing!" Simon coaxed. You shake your head instantly, knowing that half the boys lived and breathed football.

“You can’t say I don’t have to be any good when you’re probably one of the best players out there.” Countering his argument, you can tell you're at the breaking point. He's cracked you down efficiently, being nice, complimenting you, bringing Will into it- It's working so well you almost hate him for it.

“I’ve exhausted my options, y/n, please, this one time, and I’ll never ask again.” Simon protests. You huff, exasperated, and without letting another beat pass,

"Alright,"

"Alright?" he repeats, the surprise evident in his tone. You gnaw at your bottom lip, adn squeezed your eyes shut before speaking again.

"Yeah, okay, put me in." You decide finally. You can hear movement on the other end and a few other voices shout in delight. Of course, he couldn't be alone when he made the phone call.

"Oh my god, this will be legendary, thank you, thank you, thank you," Simon begins excitedly, which brings a smile to your face. Simon, even though he always was teetering on the edge of your limit, was charming and kind and that's what makes it hard to deny him.

"You're playing center, by the way. See you in a week mate!" and the phone call clicks. There, you're left to stare at your phone screen, watching as you get added to a group chat and texts start to roll in.

One week, seven days, to magically get good at football again. Right, well, it’s much too late to turn back now.

"Cheers," muttering to yourself. You fall back onto the bed, checking your messages to see a new one from Will.

"wanna show this novice the ropes?"

Word obviously spreads fast, is the first thing you think. And then you snort, with a quick eye roll, the pads of your fingers drumming against the screen.

"fuck off" you begin to type but instead you text back,

“pitch at 6 sharp"

And almost immediately Will texts back,

“wouldn’t miss it :)”

⚽️...

You arrive to the pitch first, bringing an old ball covered in dirt from when you had last dribbled with Chris. Will arrives shortly after, a wide smile and an excited pep to his jog.

“Six sharp!” he says, checking his watch to show you it's exactly 6pm. Will is very timely; he’s considerate of people's time and even makes an extra effort to arrive early. He never wants to be the wanker who shows up late and wastes others time and efforts.

"That ball is just filthy, innit?" he comments, his true Geordie accent making a clear appearance. You roll your eyes quickly.

“I don't see yours anywhere,” you respond, finishing up tying the laces of your shoes. You rock on your feet a few times, creasing the shoe and getting it to warp around your feet snugly.

"Fair enough." Immediately, Will picks the ball up and twirls it between his fingers. "What should we do first?"

You both practice dribbling, passing, and shooting. Eventually, moving on to striking and stealing, which gets aggressive, causing you to have bruises all along your legs. Will thinks that after a while, it's a good idea to mess around so you both don't end up hating each other. The time passes by swiftly, the sun setting behind you both before you realize it.

The sky is highlighted with hues of orange, yellow, and a deep red in the horizon. You turn to look at Will; his shoulder grazes your side, and as if on cue, he looks at you, too.

He silently smiles, and for a second it’s all it is, but then his hand comes up and brushes the cool of your cheekbone. He brushes the stray hair that fell, tucking it behind your ear. Smoothing down any hairs that stuck out on the back of your head with his palm.

Will always find an excuse to touch you, to be physically closer. He’s an affectionate person, you’ve always riddled it as. Oh, there’s a stray hair on your face, oh a piece of fuzz on your sweater, don’t worry if you’re nervous— his hand crawls its way onto the small of your back. And every time he did something like this, your feelings soared and free-fall in the air. You don’t know how much longer you can swallow down the shyness you feel when it happens.

Instead, you give him a small shove.

“Stop it,”

“I was just helpin’ ya,” his voice squeaks.

“Just like how you helped get Simon to convince me to play in the match next week?” You shove the ball into his chest, backing up, motioning him to play. He lets out an airy chuckle, rolling the ball onto the field and dribbling it between his feet.

“Heard about that didn’t you?”

He kicks it toward you.

“Mhmm. “

And you kick it, hard, right back.

“I didn’t help him; all I did was suggest that he ask you because you’re reliable.” Will tried to dribble around you, but it rolled just far away enough for you to steal it.

Will runs towards the goal post, attempting to block you or maybe even tackle you, you aren’t sure. From the times you’ve watched Will play, his limbs tend to fly around and it’s like he’s just experienced walking for the first time.

“And not because you know I wouldn’t say no to the prat?”

“Look, to make it up to you I’ll score you a goal at the game,” Will offers, making you raise your eyebrows. He says semiseriously, but you have a feeling it’s more joking than anything. He was always good with banter anyway.

“Yeah right,” You walk back, running up to the ball and kicking it with the side of your foot— flying into the right corner of the net.

Wills eyes widen as he watches you jog over to grab the ball again.

“And you’re the one who needs practice?” he pipes, forgetting about the conversation. You smile shyly and shake your head, grabbing the ball and handing it to Will.

"You think too highly of me, Will." His hands cup yours, causing you to look up at him. The eye contact is soft, yet his eyes squint, and you notice the small clench of his jaw.

"I don't think so. I reckon others think the world of you as well, " Will retorted seriously.

There it is again. What is so small and meaningless to him is the grandest gesture you could ever receive. Whatever way you feel is growing, and you're letting it kill you. You can hear it in the silence, see it with the lights off, and feel it when he steps into a room. It has never been clearer to you than now.

Will notes the silence on your end, reeling back his hands and letting the ball drop to the ground. He scratches the back of his neck before sweeping the ball between his feet and turning around.

"We should focus, shouldn't we? Keep practicing," he mutters absentmindedly. The words are caught in your throat, itching on the tip of your tongue. It takes every atom of your being not to blurt out your every thought. You try to ground yourself by moving your fingers, shaking off the tingling feeling Will left. Your mouth opens to say something, anything, but it snaps shut at the sight of the geordie man looking back at you.

So, instead, you ignore the interaction completely.

"Yeah, let's do that, practice."

And that’s what you did. Every day for a week, you both played until your fingers were numb and noses pink from the chill. The sun would be long gone, the stars visible in the dark, the dim lights that lit the field flickering during the times when they were ready to turn off.

And every night, when Will offered to take you home, you said yes. Will would walk on the side of the sidewalk closest to the road, his shoulder would bump into yours, and you would listen quietly to anything he had to say. He would go on and on and on the entire way home, and you still would ask if he wanted to come inside your flat for a few.

A few minutes would be you showing him your next video, and then you would cook together, and he would sit on your couch and scroll through his phone. The time moved quicker than it did on the field, causing you both to stay up late into the night.

“Where are you going?” You question from the couch, eyeing the way he begins to walk over to the door. He stands up straighter than before, looking at his phone, and then back up at you.

“Home, it’s late,” he reminded.

“Exactly. Stay, don’t act like you haven’t before,” you insist, already going to grab a few blankets and pillows for Will on the couch.

Some nights weren’t always like this. Sometimes, you’d watch something on the telly, and he’d scroll through his phone. Your body would press against his casually, like you two have done for months. Except you're more weary and hesitant, feeling like your every move was a gesture of something more.

For a week it felt like you two were playing house. It was odd, and you knew it. Everyone knew it. When James would call Will there would be quiet snickering, loud teasing. Faith and Sabina would ask for updates after seeing both of your story posts. When Simon called Will to see if he was coming to training day, he asked to speak to you knowing you’d be around.

Yet this didn’t stop the overnights at your flat, it didn’t stop Will from doing his work from your room, it didn’t prevent you from doing loads of laundry together, and it definitely didn’t stop you both from taking the train together to the hotel the day before the match.

⚽️…

The ground below you rumbles from the audience in the stadium. As the time passes you know it’s getting closer and closer to the start of the match. Your leg bounces up and down as you stretch in your own locker room, your hands shake putting on the red uniform, there’s a dryness in your throat that not even all the water in the world could wash away.

“You alright?” Wills asks quietly as his hand slips onto your shoulder. He’d been asking if you were okay ever since you lot left the hotel. And everytime you responded,

“Yeah, yeah,” except your eyebrows were knitted together, your hands picked at the beds of your nails, and you could barely interact with anyone without feeling like passing out.

“Don’t psyche yourself out, darlin. I make a fool of myself every year, all you have to do is show up and you’ve done your part!” he says delicately. You inhale through your nose at the nickname, jaw clenching to focus on breathing. All you do is nod, giving him a small smile.

You aren’t sure what will kill you first, the charity match, or the yearning in your heart. And hopefully, it’ll be the charity match.

Once everyone begins to stand, it’s three o’clock, and just like that the world begins to move incredibly fast. The lads begin two straight lines, moving through the tunnel swiftly. They all seem so confident and excited and you don’t think you even remember how to run. With Will standing infront of you, he’s the only thing that is blocking you and your vision from the roaring crowd outside.

Forgetting his gopro is on, you tap on Wills shoulder

“I’m literally shitting myself right now Will,” he laughs and he takes your hand in to his for a moment with a small squeeze,

“We’ll be all right, swear,” and by the time he turns around, you’re out in the field and the roar of the audience is jarring. You’re convinced your head whips an entire 360 to get a good look at how big the crowd was.

Once you’re down the field, you’re shaking hands with the opposing team. You nod politely and greet your friends, making polite, quick, small talks with JJ, Vik, Josh, Harry, and then Simon. You brief him with a handshake and shove at him lightly,

“God if this goes to shit, i’m blaming it all on you, ya know that?” you joke and he laughs loudly.

“I’ll keep that in mind, y/n”

You greet Chris, Tobi, and Jimmy finally before jogging your way to center to get ready for the kick off. You look back and squint your eyes to see Will as right wing, he can see you and he shows you a thumbs up. And for a moment, it washes away your nerves, until the whistle blows and the game has begun.

The first half of the match goes by incredibly fast. Chunkz and Niko make the first goals of the match, allowing for the teams spirits to remain high. You’re able to say that you helped assist Niko with his goal, tackling the ball under four large men. The next goal was made by Vik, and as a good sport, and friend, you made your way over to congratulate him properly.

You stay close to Hp and Chunkz during this time, the only two you feel like trust you enough with the ball. The banter is great but the encouragement they give you is better.

As the sweat beads on your forehead, your chest rises and falls quickly. Everytime you manage to catch your breath, you’re off running again. Your eyes squint looking towards Danny, seeing him get ready for the throw-in. You look around at your team and you eyes are quickly looking for Will, to see he’s already looking at you.

There’s a small smile followed by a little wave. You feel your chest tighten again, this overwhelming feeling is all so sudden and new. The sweaty palms, the overthinking, the flush on your neck. Hopefully it’s all from nerves, and not just from the Geordie man.

The moment ended as quick as the moment came, because Danny Aaron’s then throws the ball into the field. Luckily for you, you were on the edge of the box. The ball comes rolling toward you fast, you’re able to dribble it between your feet, swiftly moving past Callux. You decide to create space between the two of you, but with the other team circling in on you, the only thing to do was shoot.

So, you shoot.

The ball is headed straight towards the net and looks like it could make it past the post, but to your disappointment, the ball bounces off the post and goes right back onto the field.

“Shit,” you mutter out, a hand wracking through your hair ready to run after the ball again. But, Theo is quick to take the ball from under one of the lads on the opposing team, making a quick recovery by striking and making the goal.

A breath you didn’t know you’d been holding finally came out. While you smile and clap for Theo, your energy is low and you are so tired.

“Y/n!” a familiar voice yells from behind you, and you’re quick to turn around. Wills hair is pushed back and sweaty, yet he doesn’t think twice before engulfing you into a bone crushing hug.

“Not making a fool of myself am I?” you ask, pulling away to look at him. Will chuckles and shakes his head immediately,

“That’s a joke, right? You’re ridiculous,” he says sincerely and breathlessly. You thank him briefly before substitutions start to happen, allowing there to be some down time.

Which give you the time to remember what he said to you the first time you had practiced together.

“You still promised me a goal,” You mention, before looking into the gopro on his chest, “Will owes me a goal today, and I better get it,”

“I didn’t promise anything,” he counters quickly. Your head tilts at this, with wide eyes, and he nervously laughs and rubs his neck. Even though he knows you’re joking, he still feels the need to fulfill it.

“You know what, I’ll.. do my best to. I can promise you that, y/n.” And without warning, the lot of you are off again.

…

4 - 3

After the first half of the match, it’s looking promising for your team. Theo scored another goal, and spirits were still high. You were able to switch out and take a needed breather. But after the second half of the match started, that’s when your team started to take a tumble.

You were off the pitch until Pinero got injured, and needed a substitute. So with half a bottle of gatorade and an electrolyte packet in your system, you hopped to your feet and ran back on the field. Once you hear that Simon is getting switched out with Chris, you sigh.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you mutter under your breath, knowing that Chris is a force to be reckoned with. Speed also gets switched off the field, and you’re not sure without him you guys could win. You look around hoping to find a familiar face, but for some reason you can’t find him. Where is the left wing player?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the blow of the whistle, allowing the match to continue. You see the ball fly in the air, and you’re on your feet, going wide incase someone needs to pass. But the ball goes farther and faster than you could run, that’s when you see Will.

Will runs from left back and goes towards the net like he’s a striker. He runs right past Ethan and Harry, getting a close range of the ball. Once Chunkz taps it down, Will slides toward the ball, knocking it into the net.

In the 80’ minute, Will scores what could be the final goal of the match.

“Oh my god,” you say aloud, mouth agape.

In the moment you got tunnel vision. All you could see is Will getting on his feet and spin on his heels looking for something, someone. Everyone starts to run towards Will, to congratulate him, to dogpile on him. But when his eyes land on you, he bolts toward you with all his might.

As he’s running, he’s yelling something, pointing at you. He says it multiple times, too quick for you to make out.

“What!?” You yell breathlessly, leaning forward like you were going to be able to magically tell what he said. But without warning Will comes crashing into you, the impact causing you to stumble backwards, almost losing your footing.

Guess you’ll have to find out what he said later.

When you pull away, you grab onto his shoulders firmly, bouncing with delight.

“Did you see that? I haven’t scored a goal like that ever, i’ve always been in the back—“

“I know! I know!” you cut in between his excitement.

“I’m so glad you were here to see that—“ He’s quickly cut off by the rest of the team congratulating him. Patting him on the shoulder, squeezing him into a brief hug, Chris even comes over and says he’s done well.

You begin to back off to get back into the center field, watching as the smile on Wills face takes over him completely. He radiates warmth, sunshine, and complexities. The ache with quiet yearning, watching him celebrate. There was nothing in the world like it, and if it meant having Will this way rather than not at all- you’ll live with this ache forever.

8 - 7

The match finishes briefly after Will scores. Manny scoring at the 86’ minute tying up the two teams. And Simon, of course, gets the last goal of the match putting his team first. Your team is able to score another point, Theo ends up stepping up to kick the ball and Pie face blocks it from the net. Meaning, the Sidemen have won. Regardless, everyone is in a good mood no matter the turnout. All the players rush towards the field, congratulating each other, briefing the match that just ended.

You thank Hp and Chunkz for a good game, and shake Theos hand for being another good defensive player with you.

Simon makes his way over to you and he puts his hands on the tops of your shoulders, shaking you gently.

“See! It wasn’t so bad was it?” he teased. You roll your eyes and lick the dryness off your lips, admittedly, it wasn’t so bad. After you got over the burning in your chest, the ache in your sides, and the soreness in your thighs.

“Uh no, no, wasn’t too bad. I stayed with Hp and Chunkz a lot of the time, we were all playing really well,” you say before asking how Simon think he did.

“I got a hat trick and three assist, what more could I have asked for?”

“That’s fair,” is all you can respond with. All you can think of is the times you could’ve tried to score, the times you weren’t able to make a good pass, or interfere a pass. Simon reads your mind as he sees the conflict on your face, quick to bring you back to reality.

“I mean you were really great. A few assists, you and Theo on defense was a nightmare, there is no complaints on my end. I hope you consider coming back and playing again, Y/n, seriously.” Simon squeezes your shoulder one last time before he sees Harry, the two rushing towards one another excitedly.

You turn around to see Elz and Munga coming up to you with their mics, a cameraman following. They pull you away from the group of lads whilst everyone gets ready to clap around the stadium. Taking a step back upon seeing the camera, a lopsided smile creeps up on your face.

"Y/n, what an incredible match. You were all over the pitch this game! Can you give us some words about your first time playing in a Sidemen charity match and how it felt?" The mic comes in your face, and you let out an airy chuckle.

"Yeah..um, I haven't played footy since high school, really. When Simon asked for me to play, I was.. reluctant at first, you know, but now I'm really glad I said yes." You rattled on.

"We saw some great strikes on the pitch. How do you feel about barely missing the goal during the first half?" Munya asks.

Licking your lips, you let a beat go by for a moment so you can think. The question poses room for scrutiny from the audience; you can feel your stomach churn, anxiety creeping up on the hairs on the back of the neck. You knew if you seemed too confident, people would not like that, but if you seemed too humble, people would condemn you too.

"Uhm... That's a great question," you begin to say, craning your neck to look for comfort. Your eyes try to find someone in the swarm of people, desperate to get away from the hosts.

"It was my first time! I definitely could've made it if I had been a bit closer or wasn’t getting closed in on,” you finish honestly. There, you see Will is staying back to wait for you. His eyes are wide, and his head is slightly tilted; it's a tender look that was being reserved for you.

"We are thrilled to have you here, and we hope you come back next year,” Elz says and you thank them both quickly before jogging over to Will.

He doesn’t say anything, instead all he does is wrap his arm around your shoulder and guides you to where everyone else is doing their claps around the stadium. You’re curious to see if this moment will make the video, or any of the other ones between the two of you, after all it is up to Mikey.

You find yourself smiling at the crowd, the people, the cameras. In that moment, you truly felt like you belonged and deserved to be there. Saying hello to fans, signing papers, and receiving handmade items. Although, you knew that once this was over, you'd be under mass criticism. You'd go on Twitter and see everyone criticizing how you played, but getting the validation from your mates was all the resignation you needed to tune those other voices out.

“Why the sour face?” Will leans down to whisper to you, amongst the ruckus the lot is making as they leave the pitch.

“Nothing gets past you,” commenting, crossing your arms over on another. He rolls his eyes and groans at this.

“I know you,”

For a second you debate sucking it up, going to the pubs to celebrate with everyone after. Or, going back to the hotel room for the night, and getting ready to leave as soon as possible to see your cats back at home.

“All I want to do is go home, really,” you sigh. Wills face doesn’t change, all he does is hum in response before looking at his phone to see the time.

“Yeah? Why don’t we go back to the hotel and get going,” he suggests simply. You quirk an eyebrow, knowing that prior he was more than willing to go to the pubs with everyone.

“Is.. that what you want?” asking hesitantly. Giving him time to think, and change his mind. But without another beat passing he nods his head.

“Not what about what I want, let’s get home,”

He flashes you a soft, genuine smile that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle. Will smooths your hair done with his palm like always, before silently walking to the locker room to change.

You’re left to stand there, cheeks flushing. Home. Insinuating that home is with you. All of this feels so natural, the soft touches, the quiet intimacy, the longing stares. You wonder how long it’s going to take for you to crack, to risk it all and reveal the raw truth. But, for another day, you can hold on to the pieces of Will that you already have.

TAGLIST:

@mosviqu @ivvees-blog @ooostarwarsfandom501st

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#will lenney #will lenney x reader #willne x reader #willne imagine #ukyt #willne one shot #willne #sidemen #uk youtubers

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emskryptonite · 10 days ago

Text

Dinner

a/n: the first fic of the southern!batmom au let's gooooo!! I'm so excited to share this with y'all and i hope you all enjoy it as much as I've been enjoying planning it! also please remember that my inbox is always open!! if you have any thoughts, ideas, questions, or even little headcanons about this au, come share it with me!! i'd love to hear it!!

Summary: Bruce's wife talks him into inviting the Justice League over for dinner. They're quite shocked, however, when they finally get to meet the Dark Knight's wife for the first time.

Pairing(s): Bruce Wayne x southern!fem!reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Content/Warnings: reader is very much depicted as a southern woman, she has an accent, not proofread, that should be about it, this is just silly and fluffy :)

Masterlist | Bruce Wayne Masterlist | Southern!Batmom Masterlist

She’d been pestering Bruce for weeks. Now that the Justice League was closer to friends than teammates, she thought it was the perfect time to meet them all. Bruce, of course, was much more wary. He wasn’t overly keen on his teammates knowing so much about his personal life (no matter how much he had known about theirs from the start). After all, the two of them weren’t overly public with their relationship anyway. Gotham only really knew that Bruce was married, but they knew barely a thing about who his wife is.

Eventually, though, she talked him into it (he can’t really say no to her anyway, but he’d never admit that to her). So, here Bruce is, standing in the Watchtower, cowl and all, begrudgingly about to ask his friends over for dinner at his wife’s request.

He approaches silently, as he always does, and clears his throat to gain the attention of the others, “I would like to invite you all over for dinner tomorrow night at Wayne Manor. If that’s something you all would be interested in, that is.” He looks away from them all quickly, more embarrassed to be doing this than he would like to admit.

“Uhh, yeah, sure, Bats. Is it okay if Lois joins?” Of course, Clark is the first to respond.

“Yes. The more the merrier,” he gives them all a tight smile and silently hopes he doesn’t appear as awkward as he feels.

“Welp, you know I’ll never turn down Alfred’s cooking. I’m in!” Barry decides.

“Same here!” Hal agrees, throwing an arm over Barry’s shoulders.

“Actually, my wife will be cooking dinner. She’s been wanting to meet you all, and she’s been looking for an excuse to cook.”

“Your wife? I didn’t even know you were married,” Oliver screeches.

“Yes. My wife.” Bruce leaves no room for questions, and as the rest of the League members tell them they’ll be at dinner, he takes his leave.

“Oh, dear God. Do you think she’s as broody as he is?” Barry shoots a nervous glance at the other heroes.

“Barry, give the woman a chance. I am sure Bruce has chosen well for himself.”

“Diana is right. Have some faith in the man. Besides, Dick doesn’t get his whimsy from Bruce. It’s gotta be from Bruce’s wife, right?” Clark looks around.

“I don’t know, Clark. I just can’t picture the guy with anyone who doesn’t aesthetically resemble Count Dracula.”

Just as Lois and Diana are about to scold Ollie for his words, the door swings open, revealing Alfred, Bruce’s more-than-kind butler.

“Ah, welcome in. Madam Wayne is finishing up the meal in the kitchen, if you all would like to join her. It’s just down that hall and to the right. I’ll go retrieve Master Bruce from his study.” Alfred wanders off in the other direction, leaving the League members to trade looks. Soon enough, they all give a silent shrug and head down the hall to finally figure out who in the world could handle being married to Bruce Wayne.

As they enter the kitchen, they’re met with the welcoming smell of a home-cooked meal. On the other side of the room, they can see a woman, Bruce’s wife, stirring a pot of something on the stove. She seems calm, in her happy place, definitely a contrast to Bruce’s usual brooding. Their observing is cut off, however, when Clark Kent decides to speak up.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry, but do I smell green beans?” He takes a cautious step forward, not wanting to spook you. She turns around with a bright smile, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Hey, y’all!” she greets them all warmly, her accent seeping through every syllable. “Ya know, I was just wonderin’ when one of y’all was gonna speak up. You’ve been standing there forever.” She turns back to the pot on the stove, making sure to turn slightly so she can still speak to everyone. She ignores the shocked looks on their faces; she was more than used to people not expecting Bruce Wayne to be married to some hillbilly. It made her laugh, really. “Clark, right? Yes! This is green beans, straight from the garden! I also made some fresh corn, some fried chicken, some mashed potatoes, a garden salad, and some banana pudding for dessert! I left the actual bananas out, though. I promise it��s better without them!” She gives them all a bright smile, and their jaws drop even further.

“Well, sounds like all that’s missing is some cornbread,” Clark jokes, and the rest of the team is shocked even further to hear Clark’s own accent peaking out. They watch as a light bulb goes off in Mrs. Wayne’s head, and she quickly dons oven mitts and bends down a bit to retrieve a cast-iron skillet of cornbread out of the oven. She stands upright, presenting it to the team of heroes in her kitchen with that same bright smile on her face.

“You reminded me at the perfect time! Now, Bruce likes to complain because my food is greasy, but that’s just how we cook where I’m from. If you’re like him and think it’ll mess up your diet, let me know, and I can see if Alfred will whip something up for ya real quick.”

They all share a quick glance with one another before silently agreeing that they wanted to try her food. Diana speaks up for everyone, “That’s alright. We are perfectly happy to eat the food you’ve prepared for us.”

At that moment, Bruce follows Alfred into the kitchen. He doesn’t spare a single glance at his teammate as he immediately moves to kiss his wife on the cheek and begins helping her plate everything.

“Well, everything is just about ready, so why don’t y’all go have a seat at the table while me and Bruce take everything up?” Once again, she hits them with that same honey-sweet smile.

Lois steps forward, shyly offering the couple the bottle of wine she and Clark had brought along. Mrs. Wayne takes it gingerly, thanking the other woman before telling Bruce to get out some wine glasses.

“Bruce, you complain about that? That meal was amazing. You have to share your recipes with me!” Lois jokingly scolds Bruce before complimenting his wife, and she wasn’t lying. Each of the League members had eaten well, especially Barry and Hal.

“I do not complain, but I mean, it is a bit greasier than what I would normally eat…”

“Darlin’, just the other day you were telling me how Timmy was craving some of my gravy and biscuits, and then you ate half the pan!” She laughs as she spills the story, and Bruce is looking at her like she hung the stars, the moon, and everything in between. Lois takes a moment to really look at the couple, and she decides, yeah, this makes the most sense. Someone as dark as Bruce needs someone like her to brighten up his life. After all, the Earth would be in complete darkness without the sun there to provide a way for the Earth’s beauty to be seen. If anyone ever wants to see the best sides of Bruce Wayne, they’d just have to watch him while his wife is around.

“Hold up. You put gravy on biscuits? The brown sauce most people put over mashed potatoes and various kinds of meat?” Barry questions, leaning forward in his seat.

“Oh, honey, you’ve got to let me make you some breakfast sometime. I had to open Bruce’s eyes, too. Don’t worry. Gah-lee, you people from up here just have me running ‘round like a chicken with its head cut off sometimes. I’ll fix you up, though.”

“Honey?” Barry whispers in Bruce’s direction.

“It’s a southern thing. She calls everyone either honey or sweetheart. It’s not always a compliment, though.”

“So, what? You have to share your pet names with everyone else?”

“Oh, no. Darling is reserved for me.” The Dark Knight couldn’t fight the smile that crept up on his face when talking about his wife.

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