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#like there are so many words that are just missing in french
youngchesstheorist · 3 months
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Some people go to work/school and speak a language and then go back to their place and speak THE SAME LANGUAGE with their SO/parents/roommates and then they go online AND ITS THE SAME FUCKING LANGUAGE AGAIN like??? Don't you guys get bored???
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orchideae · 6 months
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When I approach Yelan (or anyone else I've written), I don't just look directly at her character, but I also look at her surroundings. Both the ones that she knows by some semblance of necessity, but also those that she chooses. Like here, I talked about the Chasm, and what being 'okay' with existing down there needs to mean for a character, because it's not normal. Someone's surroundings, room, or home say a lot bout who they are and what their mindset, or specifically, their perspective is of the world. And sometimes, I think it says more about people than even the characters realize.
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This brings me to the topic of the city of Fontaine. Now, I personally think it's rather obvious that a lot of the nation takes from historical France, and so when looking at it, I think it really adds to remember its monarchy, the view that the 'common folk' had of it, and its inevitable demise to non-existence today in terms of importance as a result. So my first question is, who constructed or decided on its layout? Was it Furina, Neuvillette, Egeria? Whoever it was, there's a lot that can be said about their view of the world and their placement in it when you look at locations of buildings. Look at where Palais Mermonia, its governing body, is located within the city; it sits at a rather astounding elevation in comparison to, well, everything and everyone else in the city. This frequently represents the concept of 'distance' between groups in one way or another, and seeing the consistency in other nations, this is something that is rather intriguing to me, especially keeping Fontaine's characters in mind (and considering this is the nation of 'justice'). Mondstadt has everything almost entirely uniform, with arguably the church on the highest level (but it isn't greatly elevated in comparison to all else), but it's joined with the plaza and statue which are a common gathering site for all people in the city. Liyue had the gods and adepti visibly living among the humans back in the days of the Guili Assembly for reasons of 'integration' (my apologies to numerous from our dear Guizhong!) The fact that numerous adepti now live far outside of the harbor is a different matter entirely, and the one who seems to function within a semblance of separation of sorts is Ningguang with the Jade Chamber (but I'm not one to speak on behalf of her character as I don't bear the knowledge). Inazuma also has the Tenshukaku at a higher elevation in comparison to the rest of Inazuma City. Sumeru is interesting, but ultimately Nahida was kept at the very peak of the city, far out of reach of humanity— but that's exactly the common denominator that has my interest, the distance between the 'governing body' and humanity for one reason or another.
But Fontaine really takes separation to a different level in my opinion (and again, think of this when you think of the person having designed the whole city), not only because of the above which I'll elaborate more on in a moment, but also its separation from the outside world. Now, this is interesting to think about if you keep in mind that it was perhaps done in eventual protection of the city's inhabitants in terms of the prophecy (which means that this would have been constructed anywhere during or after Egeria's reign), but then why is only Palais Mermonia far above the water's reach? If the walls surrounding the city were ever breached during said prophecy, all its inhabitants are pretty much immediately caught in the flood and would drown, which tells me nothing positive of the city's 'architect' or whoever signed off on the designs. But if not done for the prophecy, then why? Stand in the middle of the Court of Fontaine and really look around you, the only sights you really have of the outside world are the sky, and it's obstructed by a fair bit of the waterways and gardens that hang overhead, which you can only properly enjoy when you take the ages long elevator to the upper level where the palace is located (which, credit due, seems freely accessible to everyone in present-time). But if you don't venture up, how much of the outside world do you get to see? It feels very secluded, very much under lock and key. On some level (and this is one of the many reasons why I think that the Meropide is so excessively important in Fontaine and it's likely why we spent so much time there; it's all to show the ever, ever important contrast and nuance between this 'autonomous nation within Fontaine' and, well, 'Fontaine'), it almost feels like a prison, regardless of how pretty it may look or come across (and despite not 'lacking rights'). And considering how people in the Meropide speak of not always wanting to return back to the 'overworld' following their sentence, I think that there's definitely quite a bit of truth in that. But again, stand there and look around for yourself.
Now to return to the original topic, but keeping the last one in mind as well, look at one other thing that I'm unsure how many have really kept an eye on: the massive effect Palais Mermonia's level has on the rest of the area (inside and outside of its walls). Have you ever walked through the city of Fontaine at any given time of day or night, north to south, east to west, clockwise or counter-clockwise circling through it; have you ever seen how it overshadows an immense part of the streets below it either entirely on its own (which to me signifies a very domineering presence), or together with those outer walls that surround the city? I know how I've spoken thoroughly with people before about how much I enjoy Fontaine and how dark it is in its storytelling, but despite how gorgeous this region with its water- and landscapes are; its city bears quite a heavy weight to me. I don't know who designed it, or ordered it to be constructed in this way, but nothing about the city itself truly, rationally, shows a healthy perspective versus its citizens.
Me: /continues on to ramble in tags because I'm me and I'm a nuisance with always more to say than I know how to coherently put into these posts.
#[ meta. ] the chances are if i open this door; there can be no witnesses left alive. is that a sufficient reason for you?#[ i love how i'm writing a liyue-based character and here i am rambling about fontaine. ]#[ listen my little french heart just ached at this. i've been sitting on it for so long and have been wanting to talk about it. ]#[ but every time i hear 'fontaine is so pretty' -- i agree. i truly do. and the city has become my new 'hub' away from liyue harbor... ]#[ which says a ton in itself. ]#[ so trust me when i say i enjoy it and find it gorgeous. but i don't have any real kind words to spare on who designed it. ]#[ and i don't mean that in an insulting/bad kind of way but more so in the sense of-- whichever god likely designed this-- ]#[ how much worth was placed where; you know? ]#[ this is why i find the gods and all of their differing views so inherently interesting. ]#[ but then i also sit here longer and think more of the meropide. ]#[ and how THAT is supposed to be the prison. hmmmm. and yet /that/ is the place many seem to not want to leave anymore. ]#[ the place that is run and made better by the person whose tragic case was entirely missed and neglected by the authorities. ]#[ ah yes; the meropide. aka meropis-- the retelling (was it a parody? i believe so) of plato's story of atlantis. ]#[ which was sunk by the gods as punishment to its people for leading lives they deigned morally unjust and petty and /greedy/. ]#[ ah yes. the references never end. ]#[ granted we know how the meropide came to be-- so if egeria was in charge of that. chances are she likely was for fontaine as well. ]#[ well-- ]#[ well. ]#[ yep. i have more to say but i'm struggling to find my words-- so here we are for now! ]
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infinitelysordinary · 4 months
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i miss graser10 & kiingtong parkour vids…
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jimerlins · 2 years
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Translated the alphabet used in STRAY
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https://imgur.com/a/edxEpIc
NOTE: Mild Spoilers for STRAY. This album contains the chapter headings, so while it's not super-spoilery, it's still going to reveal some details if you haven't played it to that point yet!
My kid and I have been enjoying Stray thoroughly since it came out, and one of the things we both found fascinating is the language of the society in the game- you see it everywhere, in neon signs, in graffiti, and it really adds to the depth and mystery of this universe.
Both my kid and I are language geeks, me being a narrator and them just enjoying languages in general, so after I casually mentioned that I thought the in-game alphabet for the robots was probably an Aurabesh (Star Wars)-like letter-for-letter replacement of a Latin alphabet, we went to town on trying to figure it out. They mentioned they realized it was a replacement cipher when they saw the opening screen for the "Dead City" chapter.
Turns out that we were... mostly right. But not 100%. There IS an alphabet that's consistent. It's in the first image you see in this album. However, while we did find a lot of signs that were simply English, there were some that were Latin, and we think there might be a few in French (which would make sense, given that the developers are French).
But it gets a bit weirder. There's a bunch of symbols we simply don't understand because we don't have a good key for them. We started off with this one by taking screenshots of the chapter headings, which were subtitled in English, using those to get a few characters, then figuring out other characters from context. We've got nearly the entire alphabet solved now, but there's some signs with words using characters that don't have any correspondence at all to the ones we've deciphered.
However, nearly all of these are in the "dead" parts of the city, where there's signs in English, which could mean these are in Chinese or some language we don't understand, or maybe they're intended to be an earlier version of the language the robots in the city now use.
There's also some "cursive"-like versions of many letters which are more difficult to understand, so some of the signs are much harder to translate. There's even some where they mash ideograms together to combine them, which is also interesting.
So here's the alphabet key, along with a few images we've provided some captions for. Our working theory is that many of the posters are written in Latin (including some Lorem Ipsum!), then translated to the robot alphabet, but it's possible they're in other languages also. Because many of the textures have "damage" on them, it's frequently difficult to parse all the words, and it's also often hard to tell where spaces go.
But we figure if we put this out there, others can come along and improve on and add to it!
NB: The alphabet key is not totally complete; the letters X and Z are missing, as we still aren't certain of those ones. (Updated: Z and X are found, and image key updated!) Also, there's some variations on some letters, and it's possible we made some mistakes. But it works for translating many of the signs and posters. For the translations we used Google Translate, which is probably awful, but better than nothing.
NB Also: The chapter headings sometimes differed from the subtitle in yellow. Where it does, the deciphered text is in white. Where it does not, there's no white text.
If anyone can offer more accurate translations of the Latin passages, please do!
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oofthwoods · 4 months
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DEBUTANTE! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: derived from the french language, meaning “a first performance or showing.” the original word debutante referred to a new actress making her first appearance on the stage. or, the one where dreams come true in bahrain.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: just a little bonus, but i picture jasper as kingsley ben-adir (secret invasion, barbie). if this is the first work of mine you're checking, reader is a driver for porsche and the daughter of rubens barrichello!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 5.5k
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NO ONE ASKED HER A QUESTION IN FORTY-FIVE MINUTES.
Naturally, there were many questions about her. How did the drivers feel about a woman joining their ranks on the track? What were their thoughts on the growing number of female fans who were tuning in to watch Formula One, possibly due to the popularity of the documentary Drive to Survive or the historic moment of having the first female driver in decades?
She wasn't sure if this was better or worse than she anticipated. She vividly recalled her first press conference last year when she was still driving for ART Grand Prix. They asked her ridiculous questions like whether it was professional to wear skirts in the paddock (yes), who the most attractive driver was (herself, obviously), and even if her father was disappointed that she reached a milestone in motorsport before her older brother (Dudu, who raced with their father in Brazilian Stock Series. And no, he had already made it clear he was proud of both of them).
In the first few minutes, she assumed it was because she was a rookie. But then Oscar Piastri answered a fair share of questions while looking at her as if he didn't understand why people were treating her like an invisible presence. She would shrug her shoulders and the australian reluctantly answered reporters' inquiries.
She was sandwiched between Lewis, who seemed impatient as time dragged on without any questions directed towards her, and Max Verstappen, who quickly responded to his own questions and showed his eagerness to leave. Two rookies, two world champions, but only three drivers deemed important enough for interviews.
The world-renowned champion's frustration peaked when asked about his recent vacation activities.
"Is this a joke?" he asked. "Do you really want to know what I did on my vacation more than asking her interesting questions?" He gestured towards the girl beside him.
"It's alright, Lewis-"
"With all due respect, Hamilton," one of the reporters interjected with a sarcastic smirk on his face. "I can't imagine what kind of questions we could ask Miss Barrichello besides her makeup preferences or favorite clothing brands."
"How about the fact that I won four championships in a row as a rookie?" She responded with a fake sweet smile plastered on her face. She could accept to be ignored, but she refused to be underestimated. "Or maybe any questions about Porsche joining the grid this year?"
"I don't think winning a championship by such a small margin of points is anything to be praised." The reporter retorted. His expression implied that he wasn't expecting the young girl to comfort him, but he couldn't hold back.
"Really? So we should just say that the battle between Max and Lewis in 2021-" she indicated towards them "-was nothing worth celebrating? Such an uneventful year for this sport."
Verstappen leaned forward, observing the interaction between the girl and the reporter. This press conference just became much more interesting.
"Strong words from someone who has never stepped foot in a race car." He chimed in, agreeing with the youngest person in the room.
"That's not what I meant." The reporter stuttered, noticing the security chief slowly approaching him. The middle-aged man was one of many security guards in the paddock that had known the driver since she was a child, and she knew that one look in his direction and the man would be escorted out.
"Of course, of course," she replied sarcastically. "You mean it's not worth celebrating because a woman won, right? Please, if you're going to insult me, at least try to make it believable. Or better yet, don't speak if you have no idea what you're talking about"
The tension in the room was palpable as another reporter spoke up, "But Y/n, let's be real here. The races were mostly dominated by your teammate, Frederik Vesti or runner-up Felipe Drugovich. Your victories were purely tactical."
She leaned back in her chair with a smug smile playing on her lips. "Is that so? Yet somehow I managed to come out on top every time."
Verstappen nodded in agreement, "She's definitely got a point there."
The press room fell into an intense quiet, causing y/n to regret her decision to do this interview. She knew that this type of situation would become more common as her fame grew in the coming year. She also understood that Lewis would be praised for defending her while she would face criticism for simply standing up for herself against a man who was only doing his job.
The silence was broken by a female journalist in the back, hidden behind the larger, more muscular bodies of her male counterparts. But y/n could never mistake that blonde hair for anyone else. Mariana Becker was a veteran sports reporter, an icon in Brazilian journalism, and a role model for any woman breaking into a male-dominated field.
“I wish I had raised my hand earlier; I didn't realize it would take so long for someone to ask you a question,” she chuckled. "I don't think anyone will object to two questions, right?" The woman looked around the room, and the other interviewers avoided making eye contact with the veteran.
"So, y/n, you've been asked countless times about being a woman in a male-dominated world and the difficulties you face because of it. However, with such a successful junior career full of records, I honestly don't see the need to ask that question again. Instead, I'd like to focus on the positive aspects. What does it mean to you knowing that a new generation of girls can look up to you as an inspiration and be motivated to pursue their dreams?"
The girl's face lit up with gratefulness for the refreshing question and relief that she wouldn't have to answer the same question she had already answered countless times before.
"It's incredibly inspiring for me as well. Growing up in this environment, surrounded by racing cars, I was also discouraged from pursuing this career. But I can only imagine how much more difficult it must have been for young girls who were ridiculed just for dreaming of driving a go-kart. To know that I can play a role in encouraging them to follow their dreams without fear of judgment is truly exciting."
Lewis subtly raised his thumb in a gesture of approval while she chuckled.
"Excellent," said the reporter with a smile. "One more question, how did your father react when you told him you were entering the world of Formula 1?"
"He cried," y/n answered quickly, eliciting laughter from those in the room. "He's quite the crybaby, so I waited until we were together to share the news of my contract with Porsche. At first, he cried tears of joy, then fear, and eventually a mixture of both. That's when he realized that all three of his children were following in his footsteps as race car drivers and that he'd have to pay for everything he put his own father through."
The reporter chuckled along with y/n. Mari had interviewed Rubens back when he was in Formula 1, and remembers clearly how emotional the man always was. The conference went on like this for another half an hour, with y/n answering everything from her expectations for the upcoming season to her favorite tracks and how she dealt with pressure.
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The balaclava, damp with sweat, clung tightly to her face as she stood at attention. Her race engineer, a tall black man with a buzzcut and a calm expression, waited patiently beside her. She smoothed down the folds of her crisp, red-and-black uniform, adorned with her country's flag on the sleeve.
"How was the conference?" Jasper asked.
The girl muttered something that Jasper couldn't make out. "That bad? Did they bring up the issue with wearing skirts in the paddock again?"
"They didn't ask anything at first, but then one guy made a comment about me winning the championship by a narrow margin of points not being worthy of praise. Except it wasn't even a narrow margin; Felipe finished about sixty points behind me., and Fred was more than a hundred points behind, despite driving the same car as me" She complained.
Jasper winced. The relationship between the engineer and the driver had been amazing during pre-season tests with the man acting like a friend and a mentor, and they had found a groove to envy.
"You'll need to come up with a strategy for dealing with these reporters," Jasper advised.
"I already have one."
"Really?" He glanced at the clock on the track and realized that time was running out. He handed her the helmet with both hands. She grinned and smoothly put it on. The colors of her country's flag stood out against the black and red of the car, making it impossible to miss.
"Yes. WWJD."
"What does that stand for?"
"What Would Jenson Do. Originally, it was "What Would Kimi Do," but I quickly realized that Kimi would just tell everyone to go fuck themselves, and I can't exactly do that yet."
The garage was a whirlwind of activity, with mechanics frantically making last-minute adjustments and drivers strapping into their cars. The scent of gasoline and burning rubber wafted through the air, adding to the excitement and tension that crackled in the atmosphere.
Everywhere she looked, there were people moving with purpose, each one focused on their individual tasks to ensure a successful first qualifying session of the season. The roar of engines being revved and tools clanging against metal filled her ears, drowning out any other sound. It was a chaotic but exhilarating scene as the countdown to the race began.
"Why not "What Would Rubens Do"?" He asked.
She chuckled. "My dad is too nice. In his only fight in his entire Formula 1 career, he told the mechanic who wanted to fight him to get someone else because he was too small."
Jasper's phone buzzed insistently, jolting him out of his thoughts and reminding him that only five minutes remained until the start of Q1. After the last few adjustments from the mechanics, y/n managed to squeeze into her car and secure her seatbelt. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might leap out of her chest, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through her body as she prepared for the intense competition ahead.
Jasper rested his arms on the halo. "Don't forget what we discussed earlier," he reminded her. "In Q1, six cars will be eliminated, followed by six more in Q2. This means that the top ten fastest cars will battle for pole position. Based on our data, we are definitely faster than Alpha Tauri, Alfa Romeo, Haas, and Williams - a total of eight cars."
The girl nodded eagerly, her eyes glued to the man as he continued. "At the very least, you and Mick should be able to make it into Q2. We're not sure how Alpine and McLaren are doing, but they don't seem to be as quick as us." He gestured towards the track outside where the other teams were busy with their own preparations. "But we can't let our guard down. Anything can happen during quali." The tension was palpable as they both waited for their turn on the track.
"So, we're trying for Q3 then?" She inquired, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and determination.
"Officially, I was instructed to tell you that Q2 is sufficient, but we can't know our full potential until we're on the track."
A sly grin appeared on her face, hidden behind her helmet. She pushed down her visor, ready to give it her all. "Well, I say let's aim for Q3 then. I want to see what this car can really do."
A gentle laugh escaped Jasper's lips, his eyes shining with admiration. "That's the spirit, echo. Show them what you're made of."
With one final nod, y/n shifted her focus, tuning out the noise and commotion of the pit lane. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, using all her senses to ground herself in the present moment. The smell of burning rubber and gasoline filled her nostrils as she visualized the track ahead. The deafening roar of the engine drowned out all other sounds, sending shivers down her spine.
Jasper's voice crackled through the radio in her ear, sounding like a distant robot. "Radio check," he said, his tone serious and business-like.
She adjusted gloves as she responded, "I hear you loud and clear." Her hands were tightly gripped on the steering wheel as she followed Logan Sargeant's Williams out of the pit lane. It was a tight squeeze with the Porsche garage being the newest addition to the grid. She bit her lip, hoping that their placement in the pit lane wouldn't cause any trouble in the future.
"Great. Warm up your tires and then do a flying lap. We want to get a better idea of our potential and avoid any possible disruptions from a Red Flag," Jasper instructed.
"Roger that," she replied, trying to keep her breathing steady as cars started to move around her. She prayed that the onboard camera wouldn't catch her trembling hands as she prepared for her first real lap on the track.
The engine roared to life as she pressed down on the accelerator, gripping the steering wheel with determination. The car surged forward, its tires screeching against the asphalt, leaving a trail of smoke behind. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, heightening her senses as she focused on the task at hand.
The wind whipped through, carrying with it a symphony of sounds—engines revving, tires squealing, and the distant cheers of the crowd. Her heart pounded in sync with the rhythm of the track, each beat pulsating through her chest.
As the cars whizzed by, she made a conscious effort to stay out of their way while completing her out lap. It was her first Grand Prix, and she wasn't about to receive an impeding penalty. She could feel the engine roaring to life and her car responding with precision, its tires getting ready to set a time that would hopefully secure her from elimination in the initial round.
Jasper's voice crackled through the radio once again. "Alright, you're good to go. Try your best," he encouraged, his voice filled with unwavering support.
"Copy." She smirked.
The pre-tests and free practice had prepared her for what was to come, but nothing could have truly prepared her for the exhilaration of sitting behind the wheel of a Formula 1 car. The engine purred like a fierce beast, ready to unleash its power at any moment. The sleek body of the car hugged the track, cutting through the air with precision and grace.
As she approached the first turn, she braked hard, shifting her weight to navigate the corner with precision. The G-forces pressed against her body, threatening to tear her away from reality. But she held firm, refusing to let anything distract her from the objective ahead.
She feathered the throttle, feeling the car respond to her slightest movements. The tires gripped the track, providing a sense of stability as she accelerated out of the turn, leaving her the other car trailing behind. Y/n's focus was unwavering, her eyes fixated on the next set of corners, mentally calculating her approach.
The flying lap was over in an instant, and the sound of the cheering crowd filled her ears as she crossed the finish line and set her initial time.
"Way to go, girl!" Jasper's voice crackled through the radio. "You've got P8, I repeat, P8. We're safely into Q2, but stay on track just in case. Prepare for another quick lap."
"How did Mick do?" she asked eagerly.
"P10, 0.78 seconds behind you," Jasper's voice was filled with pride as he responded. Despite his efforts to maintain professionalism, they were both rookies in the Formula 1 world, even if in different roles. "I got a great feeling about us, Barrichello. This could be the beginning of something legendary."
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The minutes seemed to stretch into hours as she waited for the race to begin and she started to feel claustrophobic inside her cramped driver's room.
Finally, unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere any longer, she stepped outside into the bustling garage. The sight of her team, clad in matching uniforms and working tirelessly on their cars, brought a small smile to her face. As she made her way through the maze of mechanics and equipment, she was greeted with reassuring smiles and words of encouragement.
This was not just her first race, but also the team's inaugural race. In a way, they were all rookies, feeling the pressure and nerves just as she was.
Standing outside, it was clear that several eyes were on her. Some, like the veteran Ferrari mechanics who had known her since she was a little girl, flashed comforting smiles and gave her thumbs up, wishing her the best of luck. Others raised their eyebrows with skepticism, as if they believed her presence on the grid was some sort of elaborate prank that hadn't been revealed yet.
Amidst a sea of red and black uniforms, the bright green outfit of the two-time world champion stood out prominently. Fernando paid no mind to the curious glances from his mechanics as he made his way confidently towards the girl.
"You're not allowed in here, Alonso." She teased, playfully crossing her arms in a gesture that made her seem much older than she was.
"Is that how it is now? You qualify in the Top 10 in your first race and all of a sudden I'm just Alonso, not Nando?" He responded with a chuckle. Clutching his heart dramatically, he leaned back as if struck by sudden agony. "What happened to all our pizza days? They meant nothing to you?"
The character she was playing no longer felt right to her, and the words she spoke didn't align with the expression on her face. She fought to suppress a smile as she continued, "That person you knew, Alonso? She is gone now."
As the man approached, she couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity wash over her. His dark hair and intense brown eyes were etched into her memory, but it was his infectious smile that brought back a flood of childhood memories.
Fernando rested his hands on her shoulders and held onto his helmet, which puzzled her. With only a few minutes left before the race began, he could have easily stored it in his own garage rather than carrying it around. But she pushed those thoughts aside as his gaze softened and he spoke.
"You were the size of a flea when I met you," he said with a chuckle. She smiled at the memory of their first encounter. She had been just six years old at the time, tagging along with her father to one of his races. She remembered being mesmerized by the speed and energy of the cars on the track, but also feeling a little intimidated by the loud noises and bustling crowds.
But then she saw him – Alonso – standing tall and proud in his racesuit. He had noticed her watching him from behind the fence and had flashed her a tight smile. Somehow, from that one interaction, she had become a fan. From then on, whenever she visited the track with her father, she would always seek out Fernando.
Initially, the Spaniard couldn't comprehend why the young girl found him so intriguing. He knew he was talented and quick on the race track, but children were not his forte. Alonso would often try to distance himself from the girl, offering only friendly waves and smiles. However, when she presented him with a drawing of himself on the podium with a trophy (which he still keeps today), everything changed.
"You used to avoid me like the plague," she recalled.
"That's not entirely true," Fernando denied, but quickly changed his tune when the girl raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe I wasn't too fond of being followed around by a little girl. Can you blame me? If anything happened to you, I would have to deal with your father, Michael, Kimi, and all the mechanics that you had wrapped around your finger."
He became somewhat of figure between an older brother and a father figure to her, always ready with words of encouragement and advice.
Now here they were, both grown up and about to race against each other for the very first time.
"I can't believe we're finally racing against each other," she said with a mixture of excitement and nerves.
"It's about time," Fernando replied with a smirk. "I've been waiting for this moment since you beat me in go-karts."
A smile tugged at her lips as she recalled the moment. During one of his trips with her family to cheer her on during her junior career, they decided to have some fun and race go-karts. She had managed to beat him by mere thousandths of a second, and she made sure to remind him of it constantly afterwards.
"What's on the agenda for today, Mija?" He asked, looking around at the girl's garage.
"Hah, like I would share that with you. I love you, Nando, but now we're competitors." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "You're just trying to take advantage because we're close."
"You got me." He chuckled, knowing it wasn't entirely true.
She sighed and crossed her arms with a hesitant expression. "Rule number one is to not crash into Mick. Number two is to avoid crashing into anyone else. Our team isn't expecting a stellar performance, so if we can maintain our starting positions, both cars will score points. That's our main goal."
"Oh, come on. Don't you want to try overtaking someone?" he prodded.
Y/N laughed. "Why? You want to see me in your rearview mirror?"
"Of course I do," he admitted. "Competing for a win with you would be incredible."
He pushed his helmet towards the girl, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Confused, she tilted her head in question. “I appreciate the gift, but I think you’ll need it today.”
Fernando laughed, memories flooding back to him. “Remember when your dad retired and you started coming to races with me?”
The memories flooded back, of her father's days in the high-stakes world of Formula 1. Though he had since retired, Fernando still managed to convince Rubens to allow her to travel with him to races closer to her home, and sometimes even to the grand prix in his homeland.
She quickly caught on to his request and playfully darted away from him before snagging the helmet. It had become a tradition since she was ten years old, and Fernando had unofficially taken on the role of her godfather. She used to do this same routine with her own father, so it felt natural to continue with the spaniard. He stood there, slightly perplexed, wondering if he had said or done something wrong. But just moments later, the young girl returned with her own helmet in hand.
"Wouldn't it be fair for you to do the same for me this time?" she asked playfully.
The two exchanged helmets and planted a kiss on the part of the helmet that would soon cover each other's foreheads.
"Stay safe, Nando"
"You too. Give us hell"
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"It's an easy overtake for Barrichello in the Porsche, and she takes the position from Lance Stroll in the Aston Martin!" David Croft's voice rings across the circuit, and the crowd roars, the flags from her country and Germany flying around.
"Great job!" The voice of her race engineer appears in her ear, breaking through her intense concentration. "Russell is 1.2 ahead, close the gap to be able to use DRS when it is enabled."
"Copy" she nods, instinctively, her eyes never leaving the track ahead. She knows what she needs to do, and she pushes her car to its limits, weaving through the curves and straights with precision and skill.
As she closes the gap between her and the british driver, she can feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She's in her element, in the midst of the intense competition that she lives for.
"0.7. Go for it, elbows out" Jasper said again.
The cheers of the pit crew resounded in her ears as she used the extra boost to overtake the Mercedes. It was a challenge to defend against George's attempts at whiplash and reclaim her position, but once they were off the main straight, she managed to create a considerable gap between them.
The rest of the race flew by in a blur. The girl lost track of her position, constantly overtaking some cars only to be overtaken shortly after. However, Jasper's encouraging words kept her going.
Jasper's voice crackled through the radio as she approached the final stretch of the race. "Virtual safety car, slow down," he instructed.
She quickly checked her rearview mirror, looking for her teammate. "Is it ours?" she asked.
"No, it's Leclerc in the Ferrari," Jasper replied, "which puts us in fifth place."
She could see Hamilton was more than five seconds behind, and the yellow flag meant that Alonso was slowing down ahead of her.
"As soon as the VSC is lifted, you'll have a clear shot to overtake," Jasper added.
Who would have thought that she would be right on Fernando's heels after all?
After a few laps of caution due to the previous incident, the green flags were waved and she wasted no time in accelerating towards the Aston Martin driven by the Spaniard. She steadily closed the gap between them until she was right behind him. However, just as she was about to make a move to pass him, he outmaneuvered Carlos Sainz's Ferrari.
In a swift and calculated maneuver, she positioned her car on the inside of Sainz, who seemed too focused on reclaiming his position to check his mirrors. Taking advantage of his momentary lapse of attention, she quickly overtook him.
Jasper's voice was filled with excitement as he shouted, "That's it, echo! What a fantastic move!" She could almost hear the smile in his tone. "Alonso is already ten seconds ahead, so concentrate on defending now."
The final laps seemed like a blur, the girl steadily increasing the gap between her and the Ferrari with each lap.
"It's a flawless performance from Porsche, with both cars scoring points on this historic day. Mick Schumacher equals his best career finish with an incredible P6, and Y/N Barrichello takes fourth place, becoming the first woman to score in a Formula 1 race since Lella Lombardi and achieving the highest position for a woman in history!"
The sound of the bustling cheers from the Porsche garage fills her ears as she struggled to park the car with trembling hands. “Unbelievable! P4, y/n, P4! We scored 21 points and Mick got the fastest lap. What a start,” Jasper exclaims over the radio.
She stepped out of the car on shaky legs and is immediately greeted by Carlos, who had parked his car behind hers. “Where did you come from?” he asked with a chuckle. “I was trying to overtake Fernando, and suddenly you were right beside me.”
She took off her helmet and balaclava, her hair damp with sweat and sticking to her forehead and neck. She culdn't help but laugh. "Next time, check your mirrors," She teases her good-naturedly.
A hand rested on her shoulder, and she was suddenly enveloped in a warm embrace. The sweat that coated both of them didn't matter, nor did the fact that she still needed to weigh herself. She squeezed Mick even tighter and they both seemed too overjoyed to let go.
He took a step back but kept his arms around her. "Fourth place in your first race! I told you not to worry," the German exclaimed proudly.
"And look who's talking with the fastest lap!" She laughed in agreement. "We did it, Mick. We fucking did it."
A bottle of water suddenly appeared in her line of sight, and she turned to thank the person who handed it to her. To her surprise, it was Lewis with a smile on his face.
"If you had just overtaken one more person, you would have joined the club," he joked, pointing to Kevin Magnussem, who appeared to be deep in conversation with his teammate. "It was quite a race for the two of you."
"Honestly, I wasn't expecting to end up anywhere higher than where I started, so P4 is already a great achievement," she replied with a laugh as she took the cold bottle from him. The girl then turned to Lewis again and asked about his own race.
"P7. Mick managed to pass me on the last lap," he responded, glancing over at the young driver who chuckled in response.
The adrenaline was still pumping through her veins as y/n made her way to the weighing machines. She couldn't believe it, a P4 finish on her debut race. It seemed like a dream come true.
She stepped onto the scales, trying to calm her racing heart. The number flashed on the screen, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Phew, just made it," she muttered to herself.
Grabbing a towel to wipe off the sweat from her face, she quickly discarded her race suit at her hips, and made her way to her garage in her white fireproofs.
To an outsider, it might have seemed like the team had just won a world championship, not a P6 and P4. People were clapping her on the back and embracing Mick, and she struggled to decipher the various voices exclaiming with joy.
Jasper appeared in front of her with a bottle of champagne in hand. "Congratulations y/n, you did amazing out there!" he exclaimed before popping open the bottle and spraying champagne everywhere.
She laughed as some of the bubbly liquid hit her skin. "Thanks Jasper! I couldn't have done it without your perfect strategy. Great call with the tyres"
He grinned at her before turning serious. "But seriously y/n, you did a great job out there. We're all so proud of you." The rest of the team joined them in cheers and congratulations.
Before they could continue their conversation, Adrian, the team principle, arrived at their garage looking ecstatic. "Great job everyone! A double-points finish for our debut race, this is just the beginning." He raised his glass of champagne before taking a sip.
Y/n looked around and couldn't help but feel proud of her team. They had come a long way since their first tests together. And now here they were, competing in one of the most prestigious racing championships in the world.
Adrian turned to her with a smile. "Y/n, I must say you exceeded all expectations today. You have proven yourself as a valuable addition to our team." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Keep up the good work."
She couldn't help but blush at his words and nod gratefully. This was everything she had ever dreamed of - to be part of a successful racing team and make her mark in the sport.
As the celebrations continued, y/n couldn't help but think about how far she had come. From fighting for sponsorships to competing against some of the best drivers in the world, it felt like a dream come true.
But amidst all the excitement and joy, there was still one thing weighing on her mind - her family. She missed them terribly and wished they could be here to witness her success.
Just then, her phone buzzed.
"Muito orgulhoso de você filhota. Eu sabia que você ia arrasar! Me liga quando acabar tudo aí" — PAPAI. (so so proud of you, baby. i knew you would rock it! call me once you're done with everything there.)
Soon after, her older brother's name appeard on her phone as well. A quick congrats was followed by a video. Tapping on it, she couldn't contain the tears as she watched her father by the TV, holding tightly their flag and exploding in joy as the checkered flag was waved and his daughter finished in fourth.
He erupted with happiness, leaping and embracing her siblings and close friends who had gathered to witness her debut. He would excitedly point towards the television, shouting with pride, "There she is! My little girl!"
A big smile crept onto her face as she quickly replied back with an update on how things were, and a promise to video call her family as soon as she was cleared from the media.
"Time for the boring stuff now. Ready for the interviews?" Mick pulled her out of her thoughts. He had his phone on his hand, and she imagined he was also communicating with his family. "I can go first, if you want."
She took a deep breath, and smiled. "It's okay, i'll go. There's nothing they can say that could ruin my day. Not anymore."
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taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3) :: @studioreader, @fanficweasley, @stinkyjax, @namgification, @judespoision, @cha-hot, @disneyprincemuke, @itsjustkhaos, @trouble-sistar, @ihateyougunthersteiner, @treehouse-mouse, @cherry-piee, @fangirl125reader, @cassie0sstuff
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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months
Text
Irresistible {3} || CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: What was once heaven turns to hell with the unexpected arrival of a new house guest. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 4K F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four
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It was late by the time Charles entered your room and slipped into the bed. You had retreated to your room after washing the dishes from dinner, silently passing each one to Charles to dry. When there was nothing left to tidy, he sighed and decided he couldn’t delay the call that was inevitable.
“Are you awake?” he asked quietly as he curled his body around yours.
“No.”
You felt his smile on your shoulder before he rolled you over to face him and brushed the hair back that fell over your face. “I think I made a mistake.”
It felt like a cruel joke but you had heard his raised voice through the walls, but the French had meant nothing to you. You were certain that after one argument he was cutting things off but you asked anyway, “Why’s that?”
“Because I don’t want to be in a relationship with her.” He pressed his forehead to yours and the breath you had been holding was released with a relieved sigh. “And she wants to come to the first races too now.”
You pulled back to see the pained look in his eyes and realised you had relaxed prematurely. “I thought you said she wouldn’t go to many.”
“She usually wouldn’t, but with the new race schedule it falls right into her school summer break.”
You huffed at the idea of having to share him and watch as she got to publicly flaunt him. Okay, maybe you were a little jealous - but it didn’t change anything because he could never be yours. “Does she suspect anything between us?”
“I am living with a beautiful woman that I am not related to, of course she is suspicious,” he stated with a nonchalant shrug. “But she won’t outright ask or she would have to give up on the idea that we are perfect for each other.”
Your fingers traced the shape of his beard that was due to be shaved again and your shoulders bounced with a quiet laugh. “Look at you, you have it all figured out.”
For a second his amusement faded away and vulnerability set in as he looked at your laced fingers resting on his chest. “You haven’t changed your mind about coming with me, have you?” His words were whispered like he was afraid of the answer.
“I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” you admitted seriously, before a teasing smirk lightened the atmosphere. “I think I would miss you too much, or a certain part of you.”
“Ah, of course,” he chuckled, grateful for the answer and a distraction, “you only want me for my dick.”
You ran your hand down his bare chest until it met the fabric of the grey sweatpants he wore and teased over his crotch. “I was thinking about your tongue but I would miss this too.”
“I feel used, really, I do,” he huffed but his cock began to stir beneath your palm despite the joking words. “I am just an object to you.”
“Yes, you are, but you are a pretty one,” you added with the sultry smile that always set his blood alight. “So are you going to let me use you?”
He grinned as he easily pulled you over his body to straddle his waist. “Always, ma biche.”
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Lockdown: Week Sixteen
“Hey Daveed, sorry about the stairs,” you apologised as you ordered yet another heavy item online knowing there wasn’t an elevator in the building.
It was an odd world that you found yourself in. You knew the delivery driver by name now, but you still hadn’t seen the bottom half of his face beneath the mask.
“What have you brought now?” Charles asked from the couch as he sent a wave to Daveed.
“I’ll show you if you help me move it.”
Curious, he got up and gently moved you aside so he could pick it up himself, his biceps testing the tensile strength of his shirt sleeves. “Where am I putting it?”
You rushed around the couch and moved the coffee table that was covered with your puzzle magazines before pointing to the space made. “I’ll get the scissors.”
Charles watched his floor space change from hardwood boards to the fluffiest shag pile rug he had ever seen. Everywhere he looked there was evidence of a woman in his home and he had to admit he loved walking into each room and seeing it.
You starfished on the rug after unrolling it and sighed happily at how soft and fluffy it was beneath you. “Lay with me,” you ordered Charles when you opened your eyes to find you smiling down at you.
Dropping down beside you, he stared up at the ceiling and stretched out, sliding his arm under your head. He ran his fingers through the soft material before those same fingers ran down your sleeve and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “It’s perfect.”
The doorbell buzzed and you both looked at each other wondering who it could be. There wasn’t anything else that had been ordered and it wasn’t as if anyone could just pop around for a visit with the lockdown still under enforcement. You were still frowning at each other when the bell rang again, followed by a shrill call that made Charles stiffen.
“It’s Charlotte.”
You sat up in an instant and all but ran down the hall to your room, quickly snatching Charles’ pillow and tossing it into his room with the other random pieces of clothes that littered your floor. The security chain scraped open before the deadlock was unbolted and you scanned his room to see if there was anything of yours there but luckily most activity had been kept to your space. You hadn’t wanted to sleep in the bed he shared with her, that was about your limit in your morally grey code of ethics.
“Uh, hey, what are you doing here?” Charles asked as he opened the door, his shoulders blocking your view from the hall.
“I thought you would be happier to see me after four months,” Charlotte murmured as she walked around him and into the apartment. She was perceptive of all the changes and was obviously not impressed by them as she set her suitcase down. “My travel exemption came through today.”
Charles frowned at the large luggage bag but recovered enough to kiss her when she leant in. Your exemption had been emailed to him a few days ago so everything was set to go to Austria in two weeks time but that didn’t help him understand why his girlfriend had arrived at his place with the bag. “Are you going somewhere?”
“I figured since I was allowed to travel I would stay here, with you, until we fly out. I can finish my assignment here and we can catch up on lost time.”
Your stomach knotted at the thought but she had put Charles in a position that made an argument almost impossible.
“I would love that, but isn't it a little insensitive to Y/N? I don’t want her feeling like a third wheel in her own home.”
“This isn’t her home.” Charlotte rolled her eyes and you took a step back behind the wall as she looked around for you. “You said she’s just a guest you can’t get rid of because your mum asked nicely.”
You swallowed down the angry words that clawed at your throat and had to watch as Charles wrapped her in his arms, to comfort her.
Your silent steps retreated back to your room and you closed the door before you could hear anything more. Collapsing on your bed feeling displaced, you could smell Charles’ cologne clinging to the sheets and resorted to stripping the bedding off. Not willing to risk being caught in any small talk, you mounded the pile of sheets and duvet covers in the corner of your room and pulled a pair of noise cancelling headphones over your ears.
You drifted in and out of sleep all afternoon, waking once to decline dinner, telling Charles that you weren’t hungry through the locked door, despite the loud growls coming from your stomach. When you woke again night had set in and it was dark outside your window. The growls had turned to cramps and you couldn’t ignore the need for food any longer.
Thankfully the apartment was silent when you emerged from your room and crept down the hall. You could walk the whole house blindfolded if you needed, you knew because it had been a game you played with Charles a few times out of boredom, but you turned a small lamp on in the living room. The soft glow was enough to see in the kitchen and you found a note on the fridge door.
You smiled at the thought of Charles saving a plate for you and grabbed it from inside the fridge. It smelt delicious as you warmed it up in the microwave but one mouthful had to dumping it in the bin. Though your back was to the hall you could feel his presence like the kiss of the sun on your skin and you placed the empty plate in the sink to wash it.
“You should be asleep.”
His steps were quiet across the floor before his hands found your waist and his lips brushed over your nape before he whispered, “Can’t sleep without you.”
You turned away from the sink to face him but whatever command you were thinking of to send him back to his girlfriend was lost when he kissed you. You could taste the apology on his tongue, feel the regret in his touch as his hand slipped beneath your shirt and danced along your spine.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was going to show up here.”
His forehead rested against yours and his eyes closed when he felt your hands come to rest on his neck, your fingers feeling his pulse race beneath them. The silence was heavy as he waited for you to say something but you weren’t going to dwell on what you couldn’t change.
“You should be apologising for the pasta, I nearly broke a tooth.”
Charles stepped back with a quiet laugh and combed his fingers through his hair. “You know I am not good at cooking.”
“That wasn’t cooking, it was uncooked,” you corrected him with a smile. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded, having missed your cooking and took a seat on the bench where he could watch you quickly bring a delicious meal together. He never understood how you could do that, how you could look at what was in the fridge and the pantry and create a dish in your head. When he looked all he saw were the individual ingredients but you saw the potential each piece had, it amazed him every time.
The minutes quickly passed and it was effortless to chat with whispered voices while you worked, a complete dichotomy from how his evening with Charlotte went. Conversation with her had felt forced, like he was talking to a stranger, and he had asked how the weather was twice just to fill the awkward silence.
He barely even heard your words, recounting a humorous camping trip with your father where he forgot nearly all of the food. But you had managed to survive for three days inventing new ways to eat sausages. You paused when Charles didn’t laugh at something he should have found funny but he was staring at your lips in a daze.
“Are you okay?” you asked with a wave in front of his face.
He snapped out of whatever trance he was in and you thought maybe he had been falling asleep standing up. You nearly jumped when he suddenly pulled you into his arms and buried his face in your neck. “I love you.” You could feel his smile on your skin before he kissed the column of your neck, whispering it over and over as he made his way to your lips. “I love you.”
Your palms met his chest and gently pushed him back as you wriggled from his hold.
“What?” he asked, suddenly nervous and self conscious.
“You’re just having this revelation now? At,” you checked the time on the oven, “1:11 in the morning while your girlfriend is asleep in your bed.”
“I mean, I’ve kind of known it since the day we met…” He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged apologetically. “I think I loved you the moment you called me a bad driver.”
You balled up your fist and punched him in the shoulder. “You could have told me sooner.”
His forehead crumpled in confusion as he rubbed his arm. “What? Why?”
Stepping back into his personal space, you rose on your toes so you could kiss the corner of his downturned lips. “Because I love you too.”
His smile could have lit up the whole city and it made the unexpected arrival of Charlotte a little easier to bear. It was almost romantic eating dinner with a single candle burning on the table, if it wasn’t for the knowledge that there was an unwanted house guest in the next room. You probably should have eaten in silence to make sure it went undisturbed, there was always more you wanted to know about each other. Sixteen weeks together brought a lot of insight into the other’s psyche but there was still over 20 years of history to learn.
“Did Peter teach you to cook?”
Your laugh was a little too loud in the dead of the night and you shook your head. “He can only cook a steak, and you don’t get a say in how you want it either - it’s always extra well done.” You took a sip of the wine Charles had poured and giggled at the thought of your father teaching you to cook. “There was this old woman who did the payroll at dad’s work and after mum left Betty helped step in for all the ‘girly’ stuff. Make-up, cooking, boys.”
The corner of Charles’ lips kicked up in a smirk as he sat back in his chair and sighed happily with a full stomach and contentment he had missed all evening. “I imagine you were already a natural when it came to boys.”
You mirrored his amusement and leaned your head on his shoulder when he draped his arm over the back of your chair. “Of course, one insult and I had them wrapped around my finger,” you joked.
“Worked with me.”
“But you’re weird.”
Footsteps padded down the hall and you sat up before Charlotte arrived wearing a shirt of Charles’. She froze as she found the cosy scene and the sleepy haze lifted from her face. “What is this?”
You smiled and reached for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. “I was hungry, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Would you like to join us?”
She looked at the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost 3am. Time always seemed to slip by unnoticed when you were with Charles, he was captivating that way.
“No, thank you,” she politely declined as she held a hand out to Charles. “We are going back to bed.”
Charles let her lead him from the room but he looked over his shoulder with a pout and mouthed ‘I love you’ before saying aloud, “sweet dreams.”
You smiled as you mouthed the words back and promised, “I will.”
That was the last stolen moment alone. Charlotte seemed to sleep lighter and followed Charles everywhere he went in the apartment. He couldn’t even stream alone in his office, her ever present shadow was there in the background to gate keep him from you. At night, their arguments would keep you awake and your French understanding grew to know nearly every swear word they used. 
You could see the misery in the dark bags beneath Charles' eyes each morning at breakfast. Though he no longer sat beside you, there was one perk to facing him with the table Charlotte used as a barrier between you. Warmth ran up your leg and you fought not to react to Charles’ touch, it wasn’t much but it was his quiet reassurance that everything would be okay.
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Lockdown: Week Seventeen
You woke to a screech and rolled over to bury your head under your pillow. Unfortunately you weren’t able to block out her voice as it grew louder to the point she was yelling. Tossing your blankets back, you draped a robe around your shoulders and swept out of the room with a mission to find out why your sleep had been disturbed.
“Charles, can you please remind her what an inside voice is?” you asked quietly as you took a seat with him at his piano, watching the angry young woman pace around the living room.
“You live like a pig!” Charlotte growled as she picked up his dirty plate left on the coffee table. “And how hard is it to put the toilet seat down?”
You cast a side eye at Charles to see him struggling to hold a smirk in check. He was clearly enjoying himself but you were confused since he had always put the toilet seat down before, and cleaned up after himself.
“Why are there so many cushions in this place?” Her rant continued as she picked up the floral pieces you had scattered across the couch to bring colour to the room.
“I like cushions,” you answered her rhetorical question, drawing her attention to your presence.
“I know exactly what you like,” she sneered as her eyes darted to Charles before she stormed out of the room, dropping the plate in the kitchen sink as she passed.
“Where are you going?” Charles asked as he made to follow, sending a kiss your way.
“Home!”
You dropped onto the couch, enjoying the way your body sunk into the soft cushions, and listened to the rant continue while Charlotte packed her suitcase. You had to bite one pillow when Charles made a weak attempt to change her mind but then she was wheeling her luggage out the door.
Unfortunately her departing words left you little hope as she promised, “I’ll meet you at the airport.”
The door closed behind her and Charles leaned his back against it with a sigh. You cocked a brow at him before he slid the deadbolt home and all but jumped over the back of the couch, pinning you under his body.
“Finally, I have you all to myself,” he hummed happily against your lips but you tugged his hair back so he could see the confusion on your face. “What? I missed you.”
“You planned all that?”
He shrugged and dipped his head to capture your lips that left you needing more of his kisses and less of his clothes. “I was hoping she was going to break up with me, but I’ll keep working on that. PR can’t be mad at me if it’s her choice.”
You combed your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands that were in need of a trim again. “But what happens next? They’ll just set you up with another woman that fits their image for you.”
He shook his head adamantly and pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m done with that. I’ll tell them I need to focus on my career or something to get them off my back. There’s only one woman I want, Bambi.”
You tried not to let his promise affect you but the butterflies in your stomach turned to a burn across your cheeks and you buried your face in his neck. His deep laugh reverberated from his chest as he kissed your temple and started to climb off you.
“Hey, where do you think you are going?” you asked as his weight was lifted from you.
“I was going to bed,” he said with a smirk as he started to walk towards the hall. “Coming, ma biche?”
The cushions went flying as you scrambled to your feet and raced after him. It felt as if the universe had righted itself when you closed your door behind you and found Charles stretched across your bed. For a moment you just leaned back and enjoyed the view that you had missed, but only for a moment - you had better ideas on how to spend your time. 
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you pointed out.
“Why don’t you come and change that?” he challenged with a smirk. Making himself comfortable, he tucked his hands behind his head but the movement tugged the bottom of his shirt up to tease you with the deep V lines you wanted to run your tongue along.
“With pleasure.” You untied your robe and let the material fall to the floor before you stalked him down and reached for his sweatpants. You dragged the soft cloth down and he lifted his hips to make it easier, not that it would have stopped you.
You dipped your head down, grazing your teeth over his hip bone and goosebumps prickled across his skin. His breath caught in his chest as the tingling feeling spread over his body and he chuckled at the sight of it. It was a reaction he had never had with anyone else, there was no one else who could possibly elicit such a feeling with just one touch. 
“Fuck,” he shuddered breathlessly when you lashed your tongue along one V line. He could feel your breath warm on his cock before it cooled as you climbed higher and he groaned at the smirk on your lips. You were playing with him. 
“Be patient,” you warned as you grabbed his shirt and tugged it up his chest. 
“It’s been 9 days, Bambi,” he gasped when you nipped his nipple before easing the sharp pain with your tongue.
“Exactly.” You peeked up his body from under your lashes and enjoyed the strained look on his face, his brows pinched together and his hands in fists behind his head. He was struggling not to take control and bury himself in you. “I have to make up for lost time.”
You pushed him to his limit as you nipped and sucked your way across his body from his neck to his thighs. “Please, ma biche,” he finally whined as his hard cock pulsed with the need to feel your wet warmth. 
“Since you asked so nicely…” You sealed your lips around the swollen tip and hummed in delight at the taste of him. There wasn’t a word that could describe it but it was an aphrodisiac of the highest strength. Need grew to a throb between your legs and your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched your thighs together. 
A deep groan had your eyes opening and you found a wild look in Charles’ before he reached for your arms. You let him guide you up his body thinking he was going to spear you down on his cock but he shuffled down the bed and positioned you over his face. “My turn, mon amour.” 
Your fingers clutched at the headboard as his tongue expertly found all the spots that made you see stars. Like you, he hadn’t forgotten how to drive you wild in the long days since Charlotte’s arrival. 
“Please, Charles,” you begged as he teased around your clit, keeping you dancing on the precipice of oblivion. He teased and he teased until a growl of frustration tore from you lips and you combed your fingers into his hair so you could grind your hips over his face, taking what you needed from him. 
Satisfied and smiling, you were flipped onto your back and Charles chuckled as he kissed his way up your body. “That was rude.”
“You love it,” you fired back with an equally daring smirk that fell away when your lips parted with a soft gasp as he thrust his hips forward and buried himself inside you.
“Fuck, I do,” he agreed with a moan. His breath heated your neck as he kissed your racing pulse, caressing your skin with his lips until he reached yours. “I love you.”
Click here for the next part.
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pixiecaps · 14 days
Text
recapping a bit of what haru said on stream
haru on her stream spoke about how shes had a really awful past five years and all her experiences just from this past year has been incredible. she gave a massive thank you to everyone and that she has no regrets.
“i never imagined i’d be where i am right now and i mean it with all my heart thank you so much. i had a very good time and i hope to have made you guys happy.”
she mentioned that since she was young shes always wanted to make content that makes people happy because she felt the world was missing a lot of love so shes happy to have given the world a piece of her heart. she mentioned how shes met so many incredible people who motivated her to see the good parts of life. to have found even this little bit of sunshine has left her so grateful. she says thank you for all the kindness, all the moments, all the memories, all the words, everything. shes very happy and mentioned this has been a very special experience for her. she reminded her chat that theres always another day and to enjoy life to the maximum, to live, to love, to talk, to hug each other, to be happy always, and that all the beautiful happiness we’ve given her will be returned back to us. she continues to express her gratitude. she mentioned this is one of the most beautiful communities shes ever had the pleasure of meeting in the entire world. she goes on to include the spanish, portuguese, french, english, german, and korean community in that statement.
“there is love in all types of languages and that love needs to be shared.“
she said her words will never be enough to express all her gratitude. she gave a reminder to always keep being kind. her voice falters a couple times from all the emotions. she mentioned shes cried enough and didn’t want to keep crying since she had something to do tomorrow and she didnt wanna have swollen eyes lmao.
she then shares a more personal moment. paraphrasing here.
“after i lost my dad i swear i felt like my life was falling apart. i never thought i’d be able to recover. after that many things happened and in those things, i wasnt destined to meet two people, this is a story i’ll always remember because i wasnt destined to meet these people. … they tell me hey the actor for this little thing didn’t show up and i say no way seriously? tell them to let me be it, tell them please because i want to be with you guys (harus two friends who were apart of the project). and i didnt think they’d agree… and they said yes. and i met two very important people and honestly (starts crying) thank you so much. thank you so much nussa. thanks to you i was able to meet them. i never imagined this would happen i promise you. thank you nussa. it means a lot to me that you decided to put me (into the leo spot). the only major thing in my life, i started being so happy, i started enjoying all the moments in my life as if it were the last, thanks to all this i’m here. and could meet you all. such a beautiful community.” she goes on to keep thanking nussa while crying and saying it was written in the stars. she goes on to say that shes gonna tell this as a story some day to her family, who doesnt know what she does or that she streams, and she’ll tell them about all of this with so much care and love. shes very thankful to have learned so much english and more about so many different cultures. she again reiterates shes very happy.
she also teases that she wants to go to brazil!!!! which… might be soon… and that theres little things being planned so hopefully if all goes well…👀 (an egg admin meetup would go so hard)
NOW GO SUPPORT HER ON TWITCH @ HarumiVT
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leclerc-hs · 1 month
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tachycardia pt.2 - cl16
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pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated French (didn't really put french in this), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.5k author's note: hi!!!!!! did you miss me??? I missed all of you! sorry this is SO short but I wanted to post something in honor of reaching 2,000 FOLLOWERS!!! I love u all sm and I'm sorry this is kinda shit. I've been in a really bad writing funk recently but I'm hoping to get out of it. don’t forget to talk to me and don’t be shy I love to hear from all of you!!!! I will try to get the ball rolling on this series as soon as I can. I just kinda started it without even knowing where I wanted it to go so I'm kinda just winging it as I write with whatever comes to mind. if you have anything you would like to see happen in this series PLEASE don’t be shy and let me know I love to hear your thoughts and ideas!!!! xoxo taglist: @amalialeclerc @barcelonaloverf1life @charizznorizz @magicpancake @zabwlky1999
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
AS YOU SIT across from your younger sister in the cozy confines of the café adjacent to the bustling hospital, you can’t help but marvel at the enigmatic workings of her mind.
“Is it really like that? Sex in the on-call rooms?” The question bursts forth accompanied by a hearty laugh, your body leaning forward in laughter. 
“How many times do I have to tell you no?”  You retort, meeting her gaze with an air of firmness amidst the playful banter. 
“What about in the locker room?” She presses further, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“No, and stop indulging in such ludicrous fantasies.” You respond, bringing your cup of coffee to your mouth, you pause before taking a sip. “You know well enough that I don’t engage in relationships with doctors.” A fleeting sense of contentment washes over you with the warmth of the coffee. 
She emits a deep sigh, deeply annoyed. “Are any of them at least cute?”
You feel your stomach churn as the image of Doctor Leclerc floods your thoughts. He’s far more than just attractive. You hesitate for a beat, staring at her wide, expectant eyes. “Yes.”
Her eyes light up almost instantly. “Who?”
“I forget. I don’t really know him.” Liar.
“What does he look like?”
“Brown hair. Very green eyes.” Your fingers twiddle with the napkin on the table, feigning disinterest.
She gives you a skeptical look as if she can read your mind and tell you’re lying. But she doesn’t push further. “When do you have to be back?”
You briefly glance at the time on the screen of your phone, “Shit.” Rising abruptly, you shove the chair back with a jolt, shooting your sister an apologetic glance. “I have to go. I’ll see you at mom’s this weekend?”
You’re already pushing the front door of the café open by the time you hear your sister half-shout, “Yes!”
-
You burst into your patient’s room, breaths coming in ragged gasps, cheeks flushed with exertion. You say a silent prayer to whatever higher power that he wasn’t here yet. 
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 
Did you mention that this particular patient has a knack for hitting on you?
Your heart skips a beat, and if it weren’t for the already flushed hue of your cheeks, you’re certain the blush creeping up on your neck would be glaringly obvious.
“Mr.,” You pause to glance at the chart to double-check his name, “Mr. Hart, how are you feeling today?”
“Meilleur, now that you’re here.” Better. You curl your lips upward into a soft smile, jokingly rolling your eyes at his antics.
“Surely you’re sick of seeing my face, Mr. Hart.” You quip, reaching for a stool beside his bed while simultaneously checking his IV bags. “Today’s the day I think!”
Mr. Hart has been in the hospital for over a week, recovering from a surgery for a atrial septal defect.  
“Jamais.” Never. He insists, his head sinking back against the pillow as his gaze follows your every movement. “I’m so close to being able to ask you out properly.”
In that moment, a new scent permeates the air, distinct and alluring. Without even turning around, you sense his presence—the man who just breezed in behind you. Whether he heard the exchange or not, you weren’t sure, but the subtle shift in the atmosphere is palpable regardless.
“Mr. Hart,” His voice, deep and honeyed, washes over you, almost too sweet to be genuine. “Still stirring up trouble for our lovely nurses?” Despite the playful tone, you can sense an undercurrent of something morecalculated beneath his words. His presence radiates warmth, his tall figure looming beside you, close enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. 
“No,” Mr. Hart grins. “Just her.”
Doctor Leclerc’s smile remains fixed, but you catch the subtle clench of his jaw as you turn your head to meet his gaze. “Just stopping by to let you know that we might need to keep you for another night.”
The news catches you off guard; you were under the impression that Mr. Hart would be discharged by the end of the day. As if he could sense the questions brewing in your mind, Doctor Leclerc continues, his voice reassuring. “Just a precautionary measure. I assure you; we’ll have you cleared to leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”
Mr. Hart hums nonchalantly, as if the prospect of another night in the hospital doesn’t bother him in the slightest. His attention remains fixated on you as you inspect the sutures on his chest, his fingertips grazing against your gloved hand with a deliberate touch. “Can’t complain as long as she’s the one checking on me.”
You let out a small laugh, but don’t say anything, as you stand up and remove the gloves to toss them in the waste bin nearby.  
“Mr. Hart,” Doctor Leclerc’s voice is unamused now. “You would be wise to refrain your hands from touching her again. Next time I won’t ask so politely.”
-
Pressed against a wall while in the presence of Doctor Leclerc seems to be a common occurrence nowadays. His tall frame blocking any potential onlookers from seeing who he had cornered.
“Dis-moi,” Tell me. His voice is low, lethal. “Do you flirt with patients often, hm?” 
“What is your problem?” You quip, your brows furrowed as you crane your neck back to look him in the eyes. 
“My problem?” He scoffs, leaning closer to your face, his lips thinned in annoyance. “My problem is that I have to stand there and watch a patient flirt with you,” He clicks his tongue in frustration, turning his head to look away for a brief moment. Giving you a moment, to take in the sharpness of his jawline, and the unshaven scruff that shadows it. “And you…” His voice trailed off.
“And I, what?” You pulled your lips into a slight frown.
“You smell like that,” His hands wavered around your body, in an exasperated manner.
“Smell like what?” 
As he shook his head in disbelief, a mixture of frustration and something deeper etched acoss his features. The disbelief seemed to stem from his inability to fathom that you were completely unaware of something soevident to him. It was that scent, the sweet floral scent that always accompanied you. It drove him mad sometimes. How it was almost the only thing he could focus on sometimes.
With a disapproving click of his tongue, he took a deliberate step back, as if needed physical distance to collect his thoughts.
Ignoring your inquiry, his gaze softened, the intensity in his eyes giving way to a gentler expression as they locked on yours.
Caught off guard by the swift change in his demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of whiplash from the abrupt shift.
“I wouldn’t say often,” you began, punctuating the order with a slight shrug. “It’s all harmless.”
His response was solemn, his voice carrying a weight of protectiveness that left no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t want them to put their hands on you ever again,” he declared firmly. “If you ever have issues, you can come to me.”
His words resonated with a gravity that made it clear he meant every syllable, his stance unwavering in its determination to shield you from harm.
Your throat tightened as you swallowed, acutely aware of the intensity in his gaze tracing the delicate curve of your neck.
“Moving forward, I will be the one to check on Mr. Hart,” he announced, his voice carrying a note of authority softened by a touch of concern.
With a deliberate motion, he extended his arm, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
The proximity of his touch sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks, the tenderness in his gesture catching you off guard, yet somehow soothing in its unexpectedness. Dr. Leclerc’s presence seemed to envelop you whenever he was near. As if nothing else in the world existed no matter the premise of the discussion, including the constant bickering you two always seemed to do.
“Will you be at James’ retirement party?” The question slipped from your lips before you could fully weigh its significance. Yet, deep down, you knew the answer matters more to you than you cared to admit. You found yourself wanting him to be there, though the reasons remained elusive, even to yourself.
Yes, he was an ass to you most of the time. But, for some reason you couldn’t really fathom, he was always in the forefront of your mind.
His head tilted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Though he would never openly confess, the idea of attending hadn’t crossed his mind until that moment. However, if there was even the slightest chance that you would be there, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. 
“Yes,” he replied simply, the single word carrying more weight than its brevity suggested.
You nodded slowly, as if processing his response required a deeper level of understanding. “See you there?” You ventured, the question hanging in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications.
He nodded, pulling his lips into the faintest smirk.
“See you there, mon lapin.”
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killerlookz · 1 month
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Growing Pains | Spencer Reid
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pairing: s2!spencer reid x gn! reader
description: after spending what felt like an eternity pining over Spencer Reid, the two of you finally began moving towards becoming something... until his run-in with Tobias Hankel seemed to put a stop to every aspect of Spencer's life, even his relationship with you.
details: Spencer's post-revelations related trauma, angst! and fluff (hurt with comfort), sporadic flashbacks
word count: 2,321
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i hate that i can't love you, but I'm just in the way / but you say i won't be here forever, and you'll take as long as it takes
Your cold hands ached as they struggled to make a fist, raising that balled-up hand to the dark, wooded door.
Every day for the last week and a half you'd come to this very door, that of your friend, Spencer Reid. And every day for the last week and a half you would knock on the door and hope with anxious breaths for an answer. Only to receive no response.
Part of you would worry he was dead if it wasn't for the fact that at the very least he had managed to at least call out of work each and every day. It was so typical of Spencer ,it almost made you smile. Even after all of the trauma he had just gone through, he still made sure to call out of work. No one expected to see him back at the BAU for a while. Not after Tobias Hankel.
Despite all too much of it having been live-streamed directly to you and the rest of the BAU, you knew very little of what had actually happened to Spencer in the time he had been taken by Tobias Hankel, nobody did. And the truth is, you barely knew of what was live-streamed. Maybe it made you "weak" in comparison to the rest of the team, but you just couldn't bear to look at Spencer in that state. The anxiety of not knowing whether or not Spencer was going to live was already too much to handle- even now, knowing he was safe, you still had trouble sleeping, the scenario of having not made it in time playing through your mind over and over again.
Knock, knock, knock
You held your breath in anticipation as your hands hit the door, you bit your lip in a painful desperation. Please, Spencer. You beg, your voice cracking as you whisper to yourself.
No response.
It wasn't like Spencer to not talk to you, especially not for days on end. The two of you had been friends since the academy. You were instantly drawn to him, maybe it was his impressive memory, or how passionate he was about his work, maybe it was his awkward boyish charm, or his sweet smile, or how his eyes lit up when he won a game of chess or cards, and the way he scrunched his nose whenever he laughed, maybe it was the way his sweaters never fit just right, and his socks never matched, or-
It was more than sufficient to say that you had fallen head over heels for Spencer, more than you had for anyone else in your life, you were in love. He was kind, and inviting, and you could never understand why everyone else seemed to make fun of him. And finally after what felt like an eternity of pining, and planning for the perfect moment- a french film marathon at Spencer's apartment and a few too many glasses of cheap wine was what let your feelings slip. You could still feel the way your stomach dropped as the words left your tongue,
"You know I love you, Spence"
"Yeah- like- as a friend." He stuttered, obviously caught off guard
You could have saved yourself then, played it cool, and said yes, but before you could stop yourself your head was shaking no.
Spencer's eyes widened and the corners of his mouth curled into a sheepish smile, "Really?" He looks down at his lap, his fingers rapidly tapping against his knee, "I- wow- I-" He shakes his head and looks back at you, "I love you too."
With a few blinks you find yourself back in reality. You could only live in memories for so long. You sighed, as tears welled up in your eyes. Part of you wondered if you were being selfish, crying about how you missed him when he was going through so much worse.
You wiped your stinging eyes, fuck it. You needed to know how he was doing. You reach into the pocket of your coat, feeling around before gripping the cool metal of your key ring. You pull it out of your pocket before gripping the keys that hung from it tightly in your hands. The dull metal pressed into the skin of your hands, and your cold, stiff fingers gripped harder to the point where it hurt. You closed your eyes, wincing as you tightened your fist around the metal even harder, trying to convince yourself to go through with your plan. At some point of you and Spencer "going steady" you had exchanged keys to each other's apartments.
You released the key ring from your grip, a red indent left in the palm of your aching hand. You sift through the various keys and with a loud jingling sound, the other keys fell to the bottom of the ring as you gripped the key to Spencer's apartment between your thumb and index finger. You sigh once more, telling yourself the worst that could happen is if he really doesn't want to see you he will tell you to leave and you will listen.
You push the key into the lock and twist it until you can turn the door handle. The door opens with a creak, and you step into the dark apartment, careful to close the door softly behind you. You can barely see two feet in front of you, all the lights are off and the blinds are drawn. Your hand slides up a wall as you fumble around for a light switch, flicking on the soft, warm wall light next to the door. You blink a few times, getting used to the light before your gaze darts over to the kitchen table. The apartment was almost unrecognizable. It was cluttered to a degree that you had never seen from Spencer before. He was usually so well organized. But now, papers, takeout containers, and half-drunken cups of coffee were scattered around the dark wooden surface.
It broke your heart to see Spencer's living spaces in such disarray, if this is what his apartment looked like, you couldn't even bear to think about what you might find if you were to peek inside his mind. Even with the lights now on, the dark green walls of the apartment never felt this dark to you.
You tread softly toward his bedroom, careful not to make too much noise against the creaky wood of his apartment floor. Part of you was aware of how creepy this seemed- and you worried maybe you'd scare Spencer by entering his room. Still- maybe it was selfish, but you missed him too much to allow another day go by without seeing him. Allowing Spencer to just stay holed up in his apartment for days on end was not going to do anything for anyone.
You press your hand against Spencer's bedroom door, it's opened just a crack and you're able to push the door open with a small creak. The room isn't as dark as the rest of his apartment, a few small beams of light from the setting sun peek into the small room from blinds that haven't been fully closed, drenching it with a warm orange color.
Spener's clothes are scattered throughout the room, and his brown leather bag had been thrown on the ground near the door, papers and books spilling out of it. You could almost guarantee it had been in that spot from the moment he got home from that dreaded case.
Your eyes flick up to the bed in the middle of the room where Spencer lay, his face down, stuffed into the pillows. His comforter had been kicked to the side, and the fitted sheet had come off one of the corners of the mattress.
You wondered just how much Spencer had actually left his bed since he had gotten home, the takeout containers and coffee cups in the dining room signified to you at least he did at some point leave his bedroom. Still, the sorry state of everything made you want to cry. How could anyone do this to him?
You slip off your shoes, and inch across the soft carpet closer to the bed, careful not to step on any of the clothes that were strewn about the floor.
"Spencer," You say, just above a whisper, attempting to let him know of your presence. He barely even stirs in response to the noise, turning onto his side deep in sleep.
As you got closer to the bed you could see him more clearly. His hair was a mess, long curly strands stuck to his cheeks with sweat, his eyes shut tight and his mouth almost turned down into a frown. Even in sleep, he looked so upset, so tortured. It made you sick to your stomach to even think about what he could have been dreaming about.
"Spencer?" You say again, weaker this time- your voice trembling with nerves.
No response.
You sigh, pulling off your jacket and allowing it to collect on the floor with the rest of the scattered clothes. You sit down on the edge of the bed and think carefully about your next move. You don't want to frighten him, but it may be impossible not to not after you basically broke in.
You reach a delicate hand outward and move a couple pieces of Spencer's hair from his cheek. His head moves slightly in response, but you continue to smooth your hand down the rest of the length of his hair. You can tell it's tangled, even without combing your fingers through it. You let your hand fall further, down his neck, resting on his bare back. He's warm to the touch as you rub soft circles on the exposed skin.
"Spencer?" You say again, louder this time leaning your body towards him.
His eyes flick open and he's jolted awake, swatting your arm away as a gasp leaves his mouth.
"H-hey," You grab his arm to prevent him from swinging any further, "It's just me Spence."
He stares at you wide-eyed, pupils dilated with a mix of confusion and fear. His throat rises with a thick swallow and his lip trembles. You begin speaking frantically,
"I-I'm so sorry I didn't mean to fright-"
"W-what are you doing here?" He asks, his voice is weak but there's a pointedness to his question.
"I just- I wanted to make sure you were okay- I haven't heard from you in a while and I was so worried about you I just-" Your brain was going a mile a minute before all of a sudden... your train of thought disappears as you look into Spencer's obviously pained eyes. His eyes blink rapidly as he attempts to hold back tears. The sheets have fallen off of him and his bare chest is shiny with sweat as it rises and falls rapidly. You let go of his arm, letting it drop down beside him. "I'm sorry," You whisper, too saddened at the state of him to continue.
Spencer stares at you for another moment before looking down, a single tear dripping down his pale cheek. Even now, like this he was still beautiful to you. And despite everything you couldn't help but for your heart to fill with love. But as your heart felt with love, the rest of your body overflowed with anxiety as you contemplated what to even do or say next. You stutter,
"D-do you want me to leave-"
"No." Spencer cuts you off. "Stay." He looks back up at you, "Please." His eyes are wet with tears that threaten to escape down his face.
"Of course," You nod, "of course," softer this time.
"Can we lay down?" Spencer asks, twisting his face. You nod fervently, swinging your legs onto the bed. You pat the pillow next to you, beckoning Spencer to lie back down. He does so, slowly, and you follow, your faces inches from each other, heads on the same pillow.
You inch yourself closer to Spencer, heat radiating off of his trembling body. You place a hand upon his cheek, stroking your thumb slowly back and forth.
"Am I ever going to be okay?" Spencer sniffles. The question feels like a knife had been stabbed right through your heart.
"Of course you will, Spence, " You assure, soft yet firm.
"It doesn't feel like it," He shakes his head, forcing your hand to fall from its spot on his cheek.
"These things take time, lots and lots of time."
"Yeah but-" He starts, getting choked up again, "What if you don't want to wait for me?"
"Wait for you?" You ask, confused as to what he meant.
"If I'm like this for too long." He answers, "You won't want to be around anymore."
"Oh Spencer," you shake your head, "No, no" You put your hand back onto his cheek.
"I feel like such a burden- that's why I haven't called," His voice breaks as he starts crying, really crying this time, "I mean- I'm an FBI agent, I should be able to get through this. Everyone else on the team would be back to work in an instant. And I can't even get out of bed."
"Spencer." You cut off his ramblings, "You are not a burden- you could have died, Spencer, no one is expecting you to be alright."
"I feel like I should be." He pauses, "I just don't want everyone to sit around worrying about me, I don't want you to sit around worrying about me. It's not fair."
"I worry because I care." You relay a small smile, "Because I love you."
"And that's what I'm afraid of, one day you'll realize you've spent so much effort worrying about me that you won't want to love me anymore."
"Never." You wipe the tears from Spencer's eyes, trying to give him gentle reassurance. "I'd wait forever for you to be okay."
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a/n: woah long time no post? I haven't posted a fic on here in almost two years! sorry I'm a little rusty, I've been deeeep in a creative rut. I'm accepting requests now however, Ive missed you guys!
572 notes · View notes
wesstars · 8 months
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heaven on earth (ii)
wednesday addams x fem!reader (mostly gn, only term used is “girl friend”)
summary: your friends-with-benefits situation with wednesday isn’t so friendly anymore, but if you could only uncover your own eyes, you might’ve noticed. wc: 5.5k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI! all characters involved are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, painfully oblivious reader, bad fluff, fluff to smut, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, semi-public (car) sex, mild blood, biting, mild overstimulation. a/n: not sure how I feel about this lol. special thank you to 🕷️ anon for her ideas and workshopping <3 comments/asks welcome, as always!
read part one here! this can be read standalone, but is intended to be a continuation.
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For the fifth time, Wednesday slapped your thigh to get your attention. “Turn it down.”
You huffed a laugh, and figured it was time. You were playing your ‘obnoxious’ pop playlist, full of mostly Taylor Swift and random Korean bands. It was collaborative with Enid, and likely one of Wednesday’s least favorites. Lowering the volume, you tossed Wednesday your phone.
“Alright, it’s your turn.”
The two of you were driving back from a day trip to a nearby town—actually, you were supposed to be driving back the rest of Enid and Co, also, but while Wednesday was beyond ready to leave, they all wanted to stay and do something called a “holy trinity.” How someone could have so much alcohol in so little time was so bizarre to you, but then Wednesday, of all people, rolled her eyes and downed three shots in just as many minutes, and seemed no worse for wear. 
Seemed was the key word there—not a quarter of an hour later, she’d grabbed onto your arm, grip slack, and her eyes were becoming unfocused, roving all over your face only to miss your eyes and tack onto somewhere lower.
You’d coaxed her to eat something after that. Post French fries and buttered bread (she’d kill you after she knew you’d made her eat such unrefined food,) as well as a bottle and a half of water in, she’d mostly walked it off. You figured it was time to get Wednesday home. As far as you knew, the rest of your friends were still out, though you’d made Yoko promise to text you when they were leaving and when they got back. The windows were open in the car; the wind lifted Wednesday’s fringe off her forehead. You glanced over to where she was gingerly operating your phone, punching in letters on Spotify. Your heart twisted.
You didn’t really want to admit that weird feeling you had the first time, and all the rest of the times, you saw Wednesday. It was a sort of jittery one, with a swoop in your stomach, that made you want to prod her into a conversation. You’d gotten quite a bit more than you’d bargained for, from that first fateful kiss in the classroom, to every secret, heady rendezvous after. The last time you two had been intimate—fucked, in your bed—had left an indelible mark, natural as a shadow settled neatly in your chest. The bickering and play fights had only made things worse, and you knew you had to ignore it all, for Wednesday. To keep things the same, because… something’s better than nothing, right?
You supposed that “something” was where you were right now. Being her ‘girl friend,’ with a space in between, sex and unrequited feelings included, was the best place that you could ever be with her. You had those close moments with her that you could cherish, but also that emotional distance that Wednesday undoubtedly wanted. Perfect. Your childlike sentiments were ones that you were likely to carry in your heart, deep down, for fucking forever. They were never going to see the light of day.
Lilting piano filled the car, shoving images of you and Wednesday seated together before the keys into your mind. Your phone dropped back into your lap.
“Nocturne? In E minor.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.
“I’m surprised you know.”
“Hey!” Indignant, you nearly shot something back that was sure to start one of your bickering matches again, when an unfamiliar sound rang through the car, lovely as the music, but something you’d never heard before.
“Did you just laugh?”
Wednesday’s mumbled denial was covered up by your own laugh, bordering on hysterical as your heart picked itself up and started racing. 
“Do not insult me like that,” Wednesday grumbled, rubbing the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “Focus on the road. Dying with you in a car crash is too pathetic to even consider.” Though her words were sharp as always, her even tone had something in it that, if one wasn’t careful, could be mistaken as gentle.
You snorted again, unable to stop laughing. “And if a double decker bus…” you sang, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Wednesday’s glare nearly sliced you clean in half, and you were smart for once, shutting up immediately. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and some part of you mourned that.
After Chopin played Liszt, Liebestraum no. 3, and you wondered if Wednesday knew how to queue on Spotify. You followed the winding road up the mountain. You’d be back at Nevermore soon, but selfishly, you didn’t want this to be over. It was an odd time, with no bickering, no siege, no sex, and who could blame you if you were feeling particularly, disgustingly, sentimental? Blame the Liszt.
Turning the car off the road, you pulled into a deserted vista point. Carpe diem, you thought, throwing caution to the wind and the car in park. 
“Why have you stopped?”
“Weds, we’re looking at the sunset.”
“I do not need to see it, it happens every day—”
“Oh, come on,” you laughed, unlocking the car doors and stepping out. With the wind whipping around you, blowing your hair every which way, you ducked to peek into the car. “Humor me, I guess. Don’t you feel sorry for me, or something?”
She gave you a pointed look. “I do not.” But she followed you out the car anyway.
Leaning on the hood, you looked out at the scene as she joined you. Spiky evergreens stretched out across the stony slopes, with the last vestiges of snow clinging to the tops. The sun stretched its longing light into the rapidly darkening east behind you, pulling taut the shadows and blanketing everything in an aureate shine.
You glanced over at Wednesday—despite her earlier protest, it seemed as if she was tolerating this. The tension around her brow was gone, and her arms hung relaxed by her sides. The silence wasn’t rare, but it felt reverent anyway. Your heart adored her in her outfit; it was something your mind refused to register. She was in black knee high boots, made of some leather you couldn’t pronounce, an inky dress, flowing in the wind, down to her thighs, and a soft deep gray sweater. There was a sort of bleeding sentiment, beginning to seep into your everyday life, into wondering what Wednesday would think of the book you were reading, imagining her reaction to Bianca’s quip, overthinking her hand clutching your sleeve in the courtyard.
You deliberated, vaguely, what it would be like if you tumbled down the mountainside, into those trees—would the wood be cushioning or bruising? It was a serious consideration, with all that you were feeling. Those damned feelings, ones that Wednesday would undoubtedly scorn, made you kick up the gravel underfoot in frustration.
Beside you, Wednesday cast an uninterested look over you at the noise, silently judging. A beat passed. She grabbed the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, and pulled you into a bruising kiss. 
“I am going in the car. The back seat. Be not afraid.” She retreated, and gave a little smirk, one reserved for the golden light and dark trees.
It was purely unfair, as the blood rushed from your head to pool in your stomach, making your heart work overtime. Stumbling to the back seat, you’d barely sat down before Wednesday reached over to the console and locked the doors. She’d taken off her boots, leaving her legs clad in white socks scrunched around her calves.
She climbed into your lap without preamble, squeezing your hips with her thighs. The car roof meant she had to duck her head just a bit, giving you the perfect opportunity to press your lips to hers. Having Wednesday on top of you was the kind of thing that made your head spin. And spinning you were, down into that deep unending abyss where there was only the smell of hot sugar, pine, and iron. 
The Midas touch of the setting sun made Wednesday seem even paler, from her exposed knees to her small hands, glowing like some ethereal being. She kissed you as if she could wrap her teeth around you, like searching for sweetness in the corners of your mouth. Sure enough, there was something about her, a sense of urgency, that threatened to take in all of you. 
“This dress is nice,” you murmured, pushing it up her pale thighs, rubbing away the red marks her boots left on her calves. Your hands continued upward, to the light dampness of her inner thighs.
“You said you liked it last time.” Wednesday immediately glanced away, as if she hadn’t meant to say those words. There was a faint flush to her cheeks again, but the two of you were fogging up the car windows.
You ignored the pulsing in your stomach that traitorously screamed she wore this for me? “It’s enchanting,” you said. “Like a witch of the wood.”
You nosed your way into the nape of her neck again, a favorite spot of yours, unable to stop your stupid mouth from running. “I adore it…” You pulled her tighter to your lap, skimming the seam of her underwear at the juncture of her thigh. “Can I touch you, Wednesday?”
“Get on with it,” she said, breathlessly, indulging you with a quick quirk of her lips. 
Skimming the back of your hand up between her thighs, you sent your other hand to palm her chest through her dress. You felt her through her panties, the fabric soft and smooth from her slick. Dipping your hand below the waistband, you wasted no time finding her clit. Her breath came down hard—it was her tell, you knew, even when her face remained mostly impassive.
She was sensitive today, back arching with a small gasp as soon as you touched her. Hand shooting past your head, Wednesday grabbed onto the headrest, hard enough for the leather to creak. Her outstretched arm was right next to your head, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss the inside of her elbow. 
She sighed, unfurling tendrils of a storm in smooth skies. “You have all of me,” Wednesday said, something soft.
You press a kiss to Wednesday's forehead, equally soft, as you curl your fingers again. “If only, Wednesday,” you said, unthinking.
Wednesday froze, squeezing her other hand on your shoulder hard enough to leave pretty bruises under your collared shirt.
You pulled back, cocking your head. “What is it?”
She furrowed her brow at you, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, then glanced away quickly.
“What’s wrong?” Your fingers traced another circle around her clit.
“Stop asking.” Her voice was firm, but it had a waver in the middle, like she’d almost changed her mind. 
“I’ll stop asking,” you whispered, “if you tell me what’s up.” Her eyes were glazed over with a sheen not unlike her slick that coated your fingers, something shiny and sweet. 
“You’re hopeless,” she said, not even a second before she clapped her hand over your mouth.
What an Addams wants, an Addams gets, you surmised, blinking quickly. You rubbed your free hand up and down her thigh, trying to soothe her, but she only moved her hand to grip your jaw, her intent the sear of fire through the underbrush.
“I do not like repeating myself,” she said quietly, “so listen closely.” She shifted closer to you on your lap, car leather squeaking, settling on her knees so your nose was in her collar. She reached down and gave you a handkerchief from her pocket. Knowing what she meant, you pulled your fingers from her warmth, feeling a hard lump in your throat. “And make no noise.”
You nodded. She looked wild on top of you, hair mussed from your make out session, the apples of her cheeks a dusty rose.
“Honesty colors me,” she said by way of explanation. “And you talk too much, so this is how it will have to be.” She seemed to think for a moment, biting her lip. Her burgundy lipstick contrasted so starkly with her gray sweater, as if she was the only screaming color in a black and white world. She might hate that, you mused absently. Maybe she was more a whirlpool of the blackest black, sucking in all of the color and light around it so that you had no choice but to be drawn in, to the only real thing you’d ever known.
“You’re stupid,” Wednesday started, matter-of-factly. “Just like everyone else.” You nodded, used to this sort of thing by now. “But your particular brand of stupidity is showing its truth.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, arms automatically going around her waist while you leaned back to look at her. Where she was going with this, you had no idea. You only knew that that whirlpool was making its way closer and closer to you.
“At first, our… arrangement was indeed purely physical.” She paused. “But things have changed, quite drastically. I do believe I’ve reached a… point of no return, but I have since found a balance.”
Wednesday locked her eyes on yours, unflinching. “I give myself to you time and time again-” the words were unfamiliar from her mouth- “yet, you seem to give no indication that you know. ‘If only?’ It’s nearly laughable.” She gave a huff, though her gaze was contemplative. You cocked your head, mind uncomprehending, mouth dry.
“You have my heart, beating or still.” Her words rang quiet in the car. Your own heart started up again, with all the betrayal of a thrumming bass. You tried to push it down, but it didn’t erase the reality of what Wednesday had just said—did Wednesday ever lie? She was good at it, sure, but you’d long learned that Wednesday’s word was her end. “And it appears as though you are completely unaware.”
“Unaware?” You broke her rule, and you could see the tick of annoyance in her eyes. But you plowed on anyway. “Are you saying that you have my—that I don’t know that I have your—that you like me?”
“My devotion is more than that,” Wednesday said casually, “but it may be that you’re unable to handle that at this time.”
Sure enough, you could feel your body informing your mind that you were hyperventilating, Wednesday’s weight on your lap the only thing keeping you from shooting off to Saturn.
“I don’t—” you struggled for your words, the usual wit you showed while bickering with Wednesday, the strategy you’d used to defend Jericho, absolutely nowhere to be seen.
“Need I pull stars from the sky to prove myself to you?” she said, raising an eyebrow in amusement, as if she wasn’t blowing through every poorly stacked defense of yours. It would be just like Wednesday, for every word of hers to be devastating and world shifting. No one knew Wednesday Addams and remained unchanged—that was just the kind of person she was, romantic as murder via blade. Perhaps to her, your wide eyed reaction was enough of a damning confession. “You’ll be the end of me, but what bliss that would be.” 
“Um,” you started, eloquently. “You’re… you’re not thinking straight,” you rasped out, mind freezing. You could feel your back stuck to the seat, unyielding. “You’re—”
“If I didn’t know you and your oblivious tendencies, I would think that it is almost insulting of you to doubt me.” She gave a small sniff, chin held high. “You think that just because you do not recognize my words, means that I am not in a right state of mind?”
In one fluid motion, she pressed her forehead to yours, and cradled your face between her two cold hands. Your name felt like salvation from her lips; “believe me, I’m wide awake.”
Your jaw went slack, and you were sure you looked as much a dumbass as you felt.
“I intended for my… vulnerability,” Wednesday’s voice wavers on the word, “to be a sign for you, but either you are just that unobservant, or you are unwilling to admit to what is right before your eyes.”
“I’d never not pick up on something on purpose, Weds.” Your brain was wading through a thick mud, unable to turn at the speed that Wednesday wanted.
“Does that mean that you are willfully disregarding the way I show myself to you?” Finally, in her words, you were able to see the exact vulnerability that she had alluded to.
“No, I’d never, I just… didn’t want to hope,” you said, embarrassed. “Romance isn’t your thing.”
“It’s not,” she replied simply, quietly. “I understand your reservations.” Wednesday’s hands held an imperceptible tremble, but her gaze was strong.
“No—of course I—” your throat tightened, but you felt the weight falling from your shoulders anyway. That was something you recognized. “Of course I like you.”
The silence rang yet again, and Wednesday’s eyes widened, the onyx of them turning warm as molten metal. The exact expression in them was hard to place, but it calmed you, in the wake of speaking aloud something you’d been afraid to admit to yourself.
A thought occurred to you, more clear than any you’d had since Wednesday had opened her mouth. “Even if we’d never—if we never have sex again, I’d still l—like you.”
Despite the way you stumbled into and over your words, Wednesday’s dark eyes on yours grew warm, pupil blurring into iris; the corner of her mouth gave an upwards tick.
“In the cracks of light,” Wednesday whispered, reverent as prayer as her fingertips traced your cheekbone, “I see the heaven on earth I’ve won with you.”
She kissed you then, and you couldn’t hold back any more. It was something like pure relief—though your mind still didn’t quite comprehend Wednesday’s confession (confession!), your heart broke the dam, pulling you down past inhibition. Spiraling to Wednesday’s gravity, it was as natural as breathing to give in.
Wednesday, all knowing as always, must’ve seen the way your resolve broke. She slid her mouth against yours, open and hot, unhurried but eager. The car leather under your thighs was as warm as Wednesday on top of you—not even she was immune to the rays of waning sunlight, it seemed.
“You know,” you muttered, between capturing her lips, “it’s just like you to say all that about moving heaven and earth. Most people just say ‘I like you.’” It wasn’t a complaint by any means; with your hands on her waist, you’d have it no other way.
“As I said, it is more than that.” She took a breath, completely steady and confident, now. “You consume me, completely.”
“And you, I,” you said softly, as if you could do anything but agree to her heady desire. “I’ve got you, Wednesday.”
Her forehead dropped to your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you. It took a moment for you to realize that in her silence after your words, she was grinding down, near imperceptibly, into your lap.
“Mmm, my love,” you murmured, the significance of the endearment not lost on you, “look at you.” Sliding a hand up her back to her hair, you felt her braids through your fingers. You ran your hands down once more, under her sweater to feel the muscles around her shoulder blades. The heat you felt through her dress from where she was pressed to you, through your trousers, was something out of a darkest dream, unable to be forgotten.
Wednesday leaned up again, eyes sharp as a lance, to brand you with a kiss. She bit your lip, breaking through skin, and you grinned at the pain. It was hard and harsh, comforting like the thin edge of a knife. You felt the blood seeping into the seams of your teeth, rain in scorched earth. Intoxicated, you seemed to float closer into that sweet and dark whirlpool.
“That hurt, Wednesday…” you leaned in, voice dropping. “I wanna…” There was a beat of silence where you could only taste the copper in your mouth, sweet as you knew the slick between her thighs to be. You shifted your grip to her hips, bruising, and the soft little moan Wednesday gave in response spurred you on. “I wanna hurt you.”
You did, helplessly. Of course, you would rain hell on anyone that so much as lifted a finger against Wednesday, but to hold her trust that came with pain—you wanted that from her, to know when she hurt, when she wanted to hurt. Whether it was holding her back from the edge, or flying and dropping together to the bottom, bodies crashing against one another, you wanted it. Like something out of a classical myth, with wings of wax or blood, you would burn and be burned to feel the weightless warmth of that golden light.
There was no hesitation for Wednesday, just a look in her eyes that you’d come to know intimately as hunger. “Hurt me.” Her voice was low, nearly fond, in your ear as her eyes tracked the blood collecting on your lips. She leaned towards you and licked, tongue to your teeth, translucent saliva mixing with the burgundy. “I want it to hurt—I want you to hurt me.”
When she leaned back, her lipstick was stained with your blood, and it made you want to bleed if only she was the one taking it. You leaned your temple to her jawline, eyes burning at the sun through the windshield. Your hands continued once again up her thighs, just as reverent as before. The two of you never could do anything by half—you were always Wednesday’s. Realizing it, speaking it aloud, confessing or not, couldn’t have changed that. Despite that, as you rocked back and kissed the blood off Wednesday, you felt as though you were on your knees, professing everything you were. Giving one last cheeky swipe of your tongue on her lips, you went to tug Wednesday’s panties down. She followed your lead easily, tossing the expensive garment somewhere to the side. 
“My sweet girl,” you sighed, something possessive curling in your words. “What would you like?”
“Everything.” There was a devout way about her utterance that had your hands shaking with the desire to fulfill her. “Touch me.”
Crossing one arm around her to clasp the back of her neck, you brought her face close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing.
“Everything? How much can we do with ‘everything’ when you’re so sensitive, angel?” On cue, Wednesday’s eyes slipped shut as you drew a finger along her pussy to find her wet and wanting.
“Don’t you think you should be the one to answer that?” Her voice, bold and challenging, shook up your stomach like champagne. You were completely, utterly ruined before Wednesday Addams, and it was a nearly celestial ruin, so bright and beloved it nearly hurt.
You didn’t hesitate, slipping your finger in and grinding your palm on her clit. You didn’t miss her knees sliding further apart, that elusive grin gracing her face as she tipped her head back. Only her tight hold on your shoulders kept her from falling into your lap. Your mouth tasted of iron, such a contrast to Wednesday’s burnt sugar sweat on your tongue as you licked a stripe up her jaw to bite her earlobe. Drawing every small sigh out, you took your time, curling your fingers the way you knew she liked. You squeezed your hand, heavy where her shoulders met her neck. The jagged breaths she took in response made you crave more, and your stomach burned with contentment when she let you press another finger inside of her.
Wednesday’s half lidded eyes tracked down your neck, hunter to the scent of fear, leaving a shiver in her wake. It was inexplicably easy to discern what she wanted, even as she threaded her hands in your hair, something tingling and distracting.
“Go ahead, I know you want to.” Like blood rushing back into white fingertips, her soft lips were on your neck, undoubtedly leaving a smear of lip stain that you’d have to be chastised to wipe off. Almost as if she’d read your mind, she was sucking at your skin, impatient. Already you could feel the raised welt, and the way her tongue soothed the strain.
“You’re mine,” she breathed out, harsh despite the way she was panting with every twist of your fingers.
“Yeah,” you whispered, the haze of being Wednesday’s blurring your every action. “I’m yours.”
You curled your fingers, and had to bite down a moan as her teeth sank deeper into your neck, a cause and effect that you’d kill for. You swore as she set sight on your jawline, the sweet shock of her hot tongue making you shiver. 
“Took you long enough,” she muttered darkly—it seemed she was satisfied with the state of your neck, since you could feel the skin throbbing pleasantly. She leaned back, proffering her own throat.
“I was always yours,” you said easily. “I can just…” you trailed off as your sharp teeth met her skin in the spot you knew she liked, making her cry out, “show you better now.”
Wednesday’s hands tightened in your hair, pulling a broken gasp from your throat. Her smirk, challenging as she took in your reaction, only spurred you on. It was pure selfishness, when you grinned lazily as she tugged. You gave as good as you got, though, each curl of your fingers and shift of your hand had her trembling.
She was close; you could feel it in the uneven cadence of her breath, almost as erratic as yours. Pulling the collar of her sweater aside, you worked your tongue against her jugular, her pulse tempting and honey sweet in your mouth. It was nearly tangible between your teeth, soft and solid, the pounding of her pulse, just milliseconds away from your own.
“C’mon, Wednesday,” you whispered in her ear, “just like that.”
Her breath stuttered, climbing up higher to the returning lump in your throat. It was always a marvel, the way that Wednesday was so incredibly responsive to you, your touch or your words. The hard catch of her lip between her teeth made you grin, and you reached out, tugging it free. You leaned in to kiss her forehead as you slipped your thumb in her mouth instead, your fingers never stopping. 
“Wednesday.” She turned her glossy eyes towards you, and it was the closest you’d ever seen her to coming without really falling. “Let go.”
At your words, she gasped, and you could feel her cunt pulse around your fingers as she came. Her teeth bit into your skin and her eyebrows knitted together ever so gently—you loved to watch her come undone. She was all soft moans and flushed cheeks, open in a way that she hardly ever was otherwise. It unfurled something bright and warm in your chest, spreading out into your fingertips. You felt as hazy as she looked, the smell of her spilling into the air and undoubtedly lingering in your chest.
“That’s perfect, love, you’re so good for me.” You shushed her as she panted, eyes unfocused beneath her mussed fringe, but searing into yours. You continued your palm on her clit, holding her tight as her body stuttered. You moved your hand to cup her face, smoothing over unshed tears along her waterline.
“You’re…” Wednesday gave a low groan as you hit that sensitive spot inside of her again, none too gently.
“Yes,” you answered gently. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, won’t you?” She nodded, eager, as she pushed her hips into your hand, even though it made her whole body shiver. 
“Fuck—”
You hummed in response, feeling her cunt open even easier now that she was impossibly wetter. As you worked a third finger into her, Wednesday’s spine went rigid, a whining, desperate sound you’d never thought you’d hear breaking from her throat. She grabbed your hand, and her palms were damp. Her grip on your wrist was tight, just as much keeping you from progressing as it was keeping you from pulling away. You leaned in by her ear. “Does it hurt?”
She gave a jerky nod, jaw clenched and lips parted. You would turn a storm on its head for those ways that Wednesday strayed from her control, especially when you were the one guiding that meandering path. Pressing the heel of your hand into her clit, you laughed, small and indulgent, as she clung tighter to you, a strained little cry escaping. 
“Good girl, Wednesday… you’re taking it so well, aren’t you? You’re taking me so well, darling…” Fisting the front of her sweater in your hand, you pulled her off balance, tugging her close so her lips fell to yours, easy as breathing. Swallowing every single prized whimper that fell from her, you kissed her slow. Wednesday was already sensitive, but this was intense for even her, you could tell. Her breath came shakily against you as you pulled away, having smeared her lipstick to your content. Fingers sliding punishingly against her clit, your laugh rumbled low in your chest as she keened, soft and just a bit pleading.
“Very good, Wednesday, my love,” you coaxed. Her gasp, more like a sob, washed over you in a satisfaction that made you shudder. The slick from her previous orgasm clung to your hand, making it easy to keep up your punishing pace. Her tears shined like sea glass in her lashes, as devout to the cause of ruining her cheeks as the dusk outside was to darkness. You had no idea how much time had passed, only that if she asked, you’d stay right here with her until daylight again.
“I’m—” A whine rose from her throat, and you couldn’t help but smile.
“You can do it, baby-” your thumb circled her clit as your fingers found their way impossibly deeper into Wednesday- “just for me, okay?”
“Okay,” she repeated, mindlessly. This world where Wednesday let herself trust you to take care of her was one you could live in, drown in, make your home in. You raised your hand to the juncture of her neck and jaw, heavy and comforting. Reminded of every time Wednesday had put her hand in that same place on you when you were on your knees in front of her, more intimate than anything, you tugged on her wrist, instantly missing her hold in your hair. Intertwining your fingers together, you held your hands together in between you and Wednesday. 
Without a warning, her fingers tightened around yours, so hard that her knuckles turned white. You could see that how hard she came took her by surprise, too—eyes wide open and pupils blown. It was breathtaking, you thought, just how much tension was in her, all tense shoulders and choked cry. Her nails dug into your skin, her grip tethering you from dropping off with her. It stung, and you loved it, the maroon of your blood welling up just enough to smear her fingertips. 
Wednesday’s head fell into the nape of your neck, nuzzling like she could find the world’s secrets in your skin. Hand still in hers, you wiped away the smeared burgundy around the corners of her mouth with your thumb pad, fingers lingering.
“That was devious,” she murmured, words blurring around each other.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled. She nodded, somewhat resolutely. You eased your fingers out, tucking them surreptitiously into your mouth. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Wednesday, but she only narrowed her eyes.
Even in her post-orgasm daze, Wednesday looked dangerous. Her fringe was all over the place, getting caught in her eyelashes, and you could finally attribute the pink in her cheeks to something a little more than the fogged up windows. Surely, this was heaven on earth, having Wednesday with you, steady as planetal orbit. You shifted her to sit sideways in your lap, making sure her knees didn’t burn from the leather. She was watching you, carefully. It was almost as if she was trying to memorize you, the studious way she looked at you, like she was the sole messenger for a world that wasn’t allowed to take you in. It made your heart pound, finally in accordance with your head. You let her take her time in your arms, rubbing her shoulders. The little press of her lips was back, something you had adored for something dangerously similar to ‘forever.’ She seemed content in a way she hardly ever was, the haze in her eyes clearing as she studied you. 
“You’ve changed a lot since I met you,” she commented, not unkindly.
You looked down into Wednesday’s face, at the night air drifting through her hair again. You could feel the sting from the little crescent shaped marks that her nails left. It was a warm contrast to her cold hand in yours, clasped between you. “You changed me, Wednesday.”
--
wednesday: you have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul… i love, i love, i love you. 
reader: huh?
a/n cont’d for those brave souls that made it this far: yes, wednesday’s dress has pockets. isn’t that wonderful?
I’m SO BAD at writing fluff. plus, reader is the most unreliable narrator to unreliably narrate. should’ve put “painfully oblivious” as a warning for part one too.
please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!
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lightsoutletsgo · 3 months
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names the f1 drivers would call their partner ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
word count: 2k
warnings: cheesy cringy fluff I just thought this was a cute little idea so I decided to turn it into a whole post of it's own! I noticed that I've kind of started assigning names to specific drivers just because that's the vibe I get from them! as always this is entirely personal opinion. happy reading! mimi ₊˚❀.ೃ࿔*:・ it isn't all the drivers bc I don't write for the entire grid but if you wanted to see one driver in particular then pls send in a request and I'll see what I can do!
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cl.16 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  Ma belle (my beautiful or my lovely) Simple and sounds divine when it rolls off the tongue with the French accent! Charles can't remember when he first called you the name because it's all he ever calls you! He adores the way you smile when you hear it and knowing you like it just as much as he does makes him say it again and again and again. 
"Ma belle" is the first thing you hear as your eyes slowly blink open in the morning light. You smile happily with a hum as Charles' lips press against your cheek slowly,  "Good morning ma belle, how did you sleep hmm?" With a giggle you roll over to look at him properly,  "You know I always sleep better when you're home, handsome." You poke his nose gently and it scrunches up before he's pulling you into his arms, hating that you're not as close as possible to him,  "Well then ma belle, let's sleep a little longer..."
cs.55 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  Princesa (princess) It's classic and sweet without being too cringy!  Carlos originally started calling you princesa as a joke but found that he actually quite liked it. You're his princess and so giving you that title only made sense! Carlos swears his heart melts when you pout up at him and he realises all over again he's more than happy to keep calling you his princess.
"Carlooooos!" You whined, "My feet hurt..." You pouted as you squatted down on the pavement, unable to take another step.  "Princesa..." Carlos sighed, "I told you those shoes would hurt your feet." You stared up at him, bottom lip jutting out,  "I can't walk anymore..." Carlos chuckled and rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip gently,  "Here, princesa," He guided you up and over to a nearby bench before kneeling in front of you. You sighed as his warm hands eased your shoes off of your feet,  "Better?" You nodded, "I'm going to get the car, it's just around the corner okay?" You smiled at him,  "Thank you."  "Of course princesa... And when we get home I'll run you a bath and give you a foot rub, okay?"  
ln.4 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  Sunshine  Cute and different. Lando has many names for you that all depend on both of your moods and the situation; jellybean, pretty girl, babe, mamas, peach, but sunshine is his favourite. He tells you it's because you're his little piece of Monaco sunshine when he's far away from home and missing you. He draws his inspiration from lazy mornings spent with you in the bed of your shared Monaco apartment, the sun dappling soft patterns on your skin as his lips chase the sunlight.
"Hi sunshine..." You giggle as Lando's scruff tickles your bare shoulder, relishing in the way his lips trace a line of soft kisses across your back as the sunlight pours in through the floaty net curtains. You roll over and loop your arms around his neck, "Good morning gorgeous..." You nuzzle your nose into his and he presses a kiss to your cheek, humming happily as the sun warms the room. "What are your plans for the day?" He asks, desperately hoping that they revolve around him, you contemplate for a moment before rolling over on top of him, "Nothing at all!" Lando finds himself breathless as he gazes at you, the morning light highlighting the colour of your eyes, the glow of your skin and making your lips look so damn kissable. He knows that when he's far away from home, this is what he'll remember. His own slice of heaven and his very own sunshine.
op.81 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  Angel  sweet and gives you butterflies! Is very nice to hear in all sorts of settings and moods... The first time he saw you, Oscar thought you looked like an angel and though it took him a while to pluck up the courage to call you angel for the first time, it's now the name he always uses for you! Even when you're not around he still refers to you as his angel (much to Lando's annoyance because he thinks you two are icky sometimes).
"Hey angel!" You gave a watery smile at your boyfriend through the call, hating that he was so far away, "have you been crying?" You nodded slowly, knowing how guilty Oscar felt leaving you behind. "I'm sorry angel... Hey," he said lowly, "I left one of my hoodies in your wardrobe, why don't you go grab it?" Following his instructions you grabbed the hoodie and cuddled into bed, holding it up to your nose and desperately trying to imagine he was there with you, "You look so cute angel..." You giggled, "Even when I'm all teary and snotty and sad?" "Especially then!" He beamed back at you, "Who you talking to Oscah?" You heard his teammate's voice drift through the phone, "Just talking to my angel." Oscar cooed, earning a groan from Lando that had you and Oscar bursting into giggles, "You're not even here in the same room and you're still being mushy!"
ls.2 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  Baby Simple and understated Logan likes to keep things simple but sweet and so baby is his go-to name for you. He's worked out that it suits a variety of situations and moods whether you're feeling happy, down, excited, angry or... needy. 'Baby' is usually followed up with a quick smooch to the cheek or forehead. 
"Babyyyy?" Logan dragged out the last syllable, sitting next to you on the couch, "Babe? You can't stay mad at me forever!" He whined, flopping down onto the pillows.  "My last brownie Logan. The last one." You hmmphed, crossing your arms for emphasis,  "Baby I'm sorry! I didn't realise it was the last one..." You looked at Logan who now sat up next to you looking very dejected. You sighed,  "It's okay,"  "Thank you so much baby," he kissed your cheek, "I will never eat your brownies again no matter how many are there." You giggled as he gave a mock salute,  "Now, go put your shoes on baby, we're going to go and get more brownies!"
gr.63 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  My love  Classic and to the point! It’s sweet without feeling like too much. With or without the ‘my’ it still feels intimate.George knew not long after you’d started dating there would never be any other name for you. He loves saying it even when you’re out and around other people, it’s not too much that it’s cringy or awkward but it lets people know just how important you are to him. Sometimes he’ll drop the ‘my’ and just call you love, but even that is enough to have your cheeks heating up and to make you bite your bottom lip through a smile. 
“My love?” You heard George call out as the door to your shared apartment opened, “In the kitchen!” You called back, hurrying around to make sure everything was ready for dinner. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” You whirled around to see George standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. You smiled fondly at him as he approached you, pulling you into his arms and settling his hands on your waist, “You look beautiful my love, is this the dress you bought with Lily the other day?” You nodded, looping your arms around his neck and leaning up to peck his lips, “It is, speaking of, is she here?” George nodded, “Yeah, they’re in the dining room.” You squealed with excitement and untangled yourself from George to run to Lily, after the squealing and hugging had died down, George poked his head out of the kitchen, “Do you want me to bring the plates in here love?” Alex laughed shaking is head at George, “You’re so whipped for her.” George nodded, not even phased at Alex’s teasing, “She’s my love, of course I am.”
lh.44 ❀⋆. ࿐࿔  Darling  Iconic and timeless, this name has stood the test of time. Darling sounds so good falling off of his lips. Whether it’s tinged with that slight American accent from time to time or sounds completely British, Lewis loves the way your hand always searches for his or your head drops to his shoulder once he’s said it. Lewis isn’t one for big PDA but he will always use this name, especially if he wants to check in with you mid-event or at a large gathering. Using this name is just one of the many ways he takes care of you. 
“Darling,” You stopped mid-conversation with Toto and Susie as Lewis suddenly appeared behind you, his hand sliding down your arm before linking his fingers with yours and subtly pulling you to stand a little closer to him “are you feeling okay?” He knew you hated these big events, especially when he couldn’t stay by your side the whole time. You turned to look at him a sweet smile breaking across your face as you squeezed his hand, “I’m okay, I promise” He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head before noticing your glass was empty, “I’ll be right back darling,” He plucked your glass out of your hand and made his way to the bar, you staring after him lovingly, “The two of you are so sweet.” Your head snapped back to Susie who stood there watching you with a fond expression, you giggled, “He takes good care of me,” “You’re good for him too.” Toto acknowledged with a nod, “Here you are darling,” A hand appeared in front of you with a fresh drink, followed by Lewis. Taking the glass from him you pecked his cheek and linked your hand with his, “Thank you love.” 
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i23kazu · 9 months
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GENSHIN MEN & NICKNAMES THEY PREFER FOR YOU .
characters. xiao zhongli diluc kaeya childe neuvillette x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. this may not be accurate, most of these (except for mandarin) are from google!!! and please be gentle when giving feedback. | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
xiao
亲亲, which means dear one, in mandarin. the words are often softly spoken — so soft, you almost always miss it. the blush on his cheeks when he murmurs it aloud is a telltale sign, though.
zhongli
亲爱的, which means dearest, in mandarin. he loves peppering his words with this sweet nickname — the meaning extends to dear, dearest, darling, and sweetheart. when you first asked him what it meant, he just smiled.
diluc
mein herz, which means my heart, in german. the words are so soft yet so sweet on his tongue, and he can’t stop himself from repeating it in his mind every single minute you and him spend apart from one another.
kaeya
vögelchen, which means little bird, in german. this isn’t kaeya’s native language, but he picked it up after spending so many years living in mondstadt. he thinks you’re like a bird — carefree, peaceful, and a sweet reminder of hope.
childe
Солнце, which means the sun, in russian. the sun, because that’s what you remind childe of — the person who makes his days brighter and happier and the bringer of so, so many good things for him.
neuvillette
ma raison de vivre, which means my reason for living, in french. why? well, you’re his reason for living, simply put. you’re the reason he gets out of bed in the mornings to work, and to enjoy the things that fontaine has to offer. and he makes sure you know it.
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx (send ask to be added to taglist)
reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)
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satoruhour · 9 months
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a/n: jjk 236 spoilers, mentions of suicide from reader’s side, no comfort, cry. around 1.4k. tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @saiki-enthusiast @arminsumi @shotorus @satohruu so yall can suffer w me
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the first signs of grief manifests in you when there’s a bright light that signifies gojo’s disperse of cursed energy, the familiar hollow purple that obliterates half the buildings around the two strongest sorcerers — one from the heian and the other one from our times. surely, your lover wouldn’t do something as foolish as involving himself with the blast, but gojo satoru is always one to take risks.
when he took up the job of taking care of megumi and tsumiki at just eighteen years old and providing all the things they needed to fluorish. gojo is risky as he convinces a kid with a terrifying curse to make some friends and learn about cursed energy. he sometimes puts himself in danger when he takes up more missions he can shoulder just to show the higher-ups that he can kill them any time.
gojo satoru has the world of jujutsu in his hands; how his birth had changed the trajectory of the society, altered the balance of the world and now—
“satoru!” you call out once the smoke clears and he’s still there, intact, smiling a sick smile like the many times you’ve seen him done at megumi and after burning french toast. you brief a sigh of relief and the pounding of your heart calms down momentarily before sukuna emerges and he’s missing a hand and a leg and your heart pulls lower and lower seeing the kid you raised be such a ragdoll for sukuna’s entertainment. but there was always the hope to isolate the king of curses’ soul and save megumi somehow. shoko and you had discussed it, you know it to be true, it has to be true, until there’s a sharp noise that cuts through your ear drums.
it’s high-pitched, like a flash of light that shines in your eyes too abruptly and you have to cover them. but it blinds you as much as it deafens; an attack from god knows which end and you swear you hear the reaper’s scythe.
gojo thinks you look beautiful like this; hand on your cheek and head in your hand as you watch him and the melodic sounds of the knife hitting the cutting board. you’re so concerned about him cutting his hand again that you’ve dragged your chair all the way into the kitchen to watch him closely, which was counterintuitive; the whole reason why he had bled in the first place was because he was looking at you so much.
he admires the way you curl into yourself on the beanbag in the apartment, a book on your lap on how to get to know your teenager better, hair falling over your eyes and the reading lamp not even helping that much in illuminating the words. gojo skims over your features and the way your chest breathes slowly, like everything good in the world. he hopes he’s able to get that with you in this life, for as long as he lives.
you feel it before you see it in the screens that the fight is broadcasted from — something is missing. a light has switched off, satoru has stolen the blanket at night and left you freezing again, seeing your favourite snack missing from the fridge. and you run. past the students you’ve raised, past the bright blinding screens and into the battlefield, past the debris and each crunch of cement under your feet brings a fresh bout of tears to your eyes. the tokyo winter is cool, snow starting to slowly fall upon you and the saltiness on your face seem to crystallise and harden and you’re not even sure any more. there’s a tingling feeling in your feet, in your finger tips and a pull of your heart. you know where gojo is before you see him.
“s— satoru…” you mumble, eyes welling up with more tears when his bottom half stays standing, baggy pants stained with red, red and more red and you’ve never hated a colour like you do now. you hate it, you hate it, you hate it even when he’s proposed to you with a red velvet box and gotten you valentine’s day chocolates in that same darker red and there is just too much blood.
and then it’s like the hierarchy of grief doesn’t matter any more. all those articles you’ve read preparing yourself after gojo’s fated meeting with death at sixteen, and then after shibuya — you think you can’t handle any more of the collecting and patching up and crying and headaches and holding a finger up to your chest and hoping you’d kill yourself with your own technique. the only time you’d accept the absence of the bright blue on his face is when he was sleeping and his chest moved with even breaths, not like this.
not like this. 
“satoru—” your voice cracks and you cannot even see. tears and tears and mucus and the fresh crunch of snow under your feet as you step closer to his severed body.
“baby…” he mumbles, barely above a whisper, hand twitching and reaching out in the direction of your voice because this is infinitely worse than getting stabbed in the neck by toji fushiguro, perhaps a little worse than seeing your best friend of your high school life get manipulated by a cursed user. satoru wants to demote all of that and say that seeing you stumble to your knees in front of him while you hyperventilate and sob hurts the most. 
“d-don’t move, ’toru, we— we’re going to get you b-back, okay?” you’re playing with god now. “shoko!” the doctor stifles a sob at your cry, broken up by the feedback of the sound system. she knows you’re trying to defy god.
“i don’t think—” the light is slowly dying. the world’s light, the student’s light, your dawn and dusk. “m-my love, everything is…”
“satoru, please, you need to—!” they say the last sense to go is touch and hearing. you crouch to his face to see him react to your warmth, eyes moving an inch to where he thinks you were and puts all of his cursed energy into one hand just so he could hold your cheek. you, warm as always as the sun and everything good in the world, a new rush of warmth overtaking his hand when your tears flow over his battered, tired hands, the same hands that has drawn over his love time and time again over your body and you are a canvas made of gojo satoru’s endless, unconditional ardour.
“i-i’m…” it fades out, his voice box is almost gone and you wail again and the snow from below wets your knees. his name is all that leaves your lips and you think if you can’t play god, you can only beg, even if your religion is solely gojo satoru.
“no, no, no no nono, satoru, c’mon, baby, stop it!” you scream in his face, words all mushed together when you feel the breath of life leave his chest, the blues die out in his eyes, “i love you, i love you, darling, i love you—” your lover barely manages to muster a small smile and you scramble all over his chest, clutching at the tattered black t-shirt and his hand that is starting to go cold and he has the energy to mutter out a stupid remark like gojo satoru always does.
“i’m sorry i got y-your favourite outfit stained with red, princess…” satoru whispers and that breaks the dam fully. you sob and groan and cry and wail until your voice is hoarse and you cannot speak any more and gojo wants nothing but to full heal himself again just so he could stop your crying. perhaps hold your face in his hands and kiss your forehead and nose and lips and embrace you until you couldn’t breathe. perhaps even to tell you he loved you more than anything and everything; more than poems and that foolish line he just had to say at the end and kikufuku and waking up next to you.
but in what world will gojo satoru ever get repose and a normal life? you hope for every other universe to have him be a preschool teacher, or maybe a florist, or even a superstar. but not in this one, no.
the hand that caressed your cheek is replenished again with cursed energy.
satoru gives you three squeezes.
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Williamson Holding
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Hi guys!
Sooo this is a request from @holly-wallis and honestly it's massive. Like more than 14K words. It took me forever to do it, that's why I haven't post as much as before those last days/weeks.
I really hope that you will enjoy it. I proofread it two times but it's so big that I might have forgot some faults.
TW : Angst, Jealousy, Break up, One-side love, Game lost, mention of Covid. Reader is Leah Williamson's sister.
Gif credit for Caitlin’s one at @teenwolf-theoriginals
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You were an accident. Not really wanted at first, you were born 354 days after Leah, the 18 March 1998. Your parents weren’t ready to have a second child so early after the birth of their first daughter, but you never felt anything but love from them. People joke sometimes that they used the same recipe for Leah and for you. It’s true that you look a lot like her physically and for the character you have definitively some similar points too. You both are determined, loyal, funny, and very close of your family. But the person you are the closest is definitively Leah.
3 years after you, your brother Jacob is born. You like to joke about it and saying that they finally weren’t to traumatize by you more than that. Jacob is your brother, and you love him very much, but your relationship is different from the one with Leah. You like having time with him, but with him being away in Australia now, it’s a little bit harder.
Oh, and like Leah and your mother you’re an Arsenal fan, obviously.
You started football together, but you played the goalkeeper, letting Leah practicing striking and dribbling. You weren’t bad to be honest, but they was to many competition to be a goalkeeper and you decided during your teenager period to go for study instead of football.
You were great in it honestly; Leah sometimes asked you to do her homework when she came back too late from training. You’ll do it with pleasure, happy to help your big sister who paid you generously in candy. Or dried mango, your great passion.
On day after Leah turned 17, she made her big debut with Arsenal senior team. You were so proud of her, cheering her from the stand with all your family. It was very different of what it is now, but you already knew that she would make something amazing in football. And how much were you right.
It was at this period that Leah and you talked about a company that you could make together. Leah was studying accounting in case of her career wasn’t successful and you were very interested in marketing, publicity and human relations.
The Williamson Holding Corporation was founded in summer 2016, when you finished your tuition. You learned several languages (French, Spanish and Mandarin) during your free time and thanks to Leah and your parent’s financial help, you were able to start this adventure. Your company always were able to have a good profit every year. You were able to repay your parents already and Leah always refused, so you made her a founder, just like you.
Through the years, your company get a sponsorship with Arsenal and in particular Arsenal Women, obviously. Along the years, you managed to travel a lot to make your company known in other countries and find other financials, but you always managed to come back to see Leah play. You never missed one of her games, as crazy at it sound.
February 2020 – When you properly met Caitlin for the first time.
“Y/N! Sorry, can I borrow my sister for one second?”
Leah doesn’t wait for the answer to your interlocutor and takes your arm to drag you somewhere else. You let her though, secretly happy to have to finish this uninterested discussion with that weird man. You note mentally to be sure not to invite him to the next gala.
“Where’s the dead body?” you ask your sister who rolls her eyes.
“Don’t joke about it, we’ll get catch by Covid otherwise.”
You roll your eyes yourself, but don’t say anything. You just wait to your sister to stop at some time, for what she almost kidnapped you. You end up right in front of Caitlin Foord, the new signing for Arsenal. You already saw her to the games, you smirked when you caught her looking at you two time before realizing that you weren’t Leah, the first time she saw you. To her point, you were wearing Leah’s jersey.
“Cait, my sister. Sis, this is Caitlin.” Leah introduces you, before leaving you both to catch someone else.
“Uh, hello?” Caitlin mumbles with surprise, apparently not advertise that Leah were going to introduce you both.
“Hi” you giggle. “Nice to be properly introduced to you. Please excuse my sister, she isn’t the one who studied human relations.”
Your giggles and your joke help Caitlin to relax and you’re happy to see her smiling too.
“I can see that” Caitlin answers with her Australian accent.
You had a small talk with her about Australia, a country where you never been for now. You really looked to it though, and not only to have the opportunity to make your company bigger. Jacob and you always talked about going there for holidays. And after talking to Caitlin, you will definitively go to the east part of the country.
You were joined by Katie McCabe and the three of you started talking for a long time after that. Caitlin asked you several questions about your company and seems surprised to learn the amount of work you are putting in it.
“She’s a natural” Katie smirks “Everyone comes eat in her hand, she can make people do whatever she wants.”
You smirk back, raising an eyebrow while crossing your arms on your chest at the same time.
“Not everything with everyone.”
Katie doesn’t have the time to answer anyway, because Leah is back with her Williamson’s frown.
“No flirting with my teammates Y/N!”
“I wasn’t! I wouldn’t have any problem with Irish mafia.” you answer, thinking about Katie’s girlfriend.
You raise both of your hands to prove your innocence. Katie and you aren’t really flirting, it was more for fun and for joking with each other. Katie laughs while Leah hums for any answer and changed the subject just after that, training you, Katie and Caitlin in the discussion.
The night went great, and you are happy to be able to have some time with Leah’s teammates who are also your friends, especially the ones who are in the team since a long time. You get along pretty well with Caitlin too, who would accept really quickly to at least make a photoshoot and a sponsoring for your company. Unfortunately there is suddenly the lockdown and you weren’t able to do it before that.
October 2020 – The shooting
“Hi Y/N!”
You smile to the employee who greats you when you enter the building where the photoshoot for Caitlin was attending. Being at every single one is something you do every time, so your employees aren’t surprised to see you coming. You great them back, asking around if everything is fine with everyone. It seems to be, so you go to find Caitlin.
The Australian girl is just coming out of the room where she changed her clothes and find herself right in front of you.
“Oh hi! I didn’t know you will come.”
“I like to be here for this kind of things” you answer with a smile. “How are you?”
“I’m fine thank you” she smiles back.
“Y/N are you ok if we start?” the photographer asks.
“Of course. I’m going to sit here.”
You look at your phone on the way, answering a message from one of your managers before sitting on a chair some meters away from the different cameras. Caitlin doesn’t seem to be at ease at first, but soon she finds her way. You have a perfect and entirely trust in your team, but you have already red too much time how people can make other bad with their comportment, and you clearly don’t want that in your company. That’s why you don’t have a lot of employees too. That and the fact that you love have the control on everything.
After several shots, the photographer decides to make a break and you come over to see what the pictures look like. They are great to be honest.
“I really love this one” you smile, pointing one of the pictures.
Caitlin’s blue eyes are really showing in it. You haven’t realized how blue they are since now to be honest. You then raise your gaze on the girl, just to cross the same blue.
“I think this is my favorite too.”
You hum, before congratulating the photographer for her job. It’s the first time she does it for you, but you will certainly ask her to work for you again. She’s young, like you, and you like the idea to help young people to start in their life. Provided they deserve it, of course.
They take other pictures after that, and you choose five of them to post on the social media.
“Do you want to go to eat something?” you ask Caitlin when everything is finished.
You don’t always have the time to do it with everyone, but when you can, you do it. Like you said before, almost every girl in Arsenal is your friend. You know some of them more, like Jen Beattie, Katie McCabe, or Lia Wälti who are the closest to Leah to be honest. But you like all of them. You didn’t have the time to meet Steph Catley for now though. It probably will be coming soon.
Caitlin accepted your offer, and you take her to one of your favorite restaurants.
“I didn’t expect to eat at Nando’s to be honest” Caitlin smiles after you sat at your table.
“Oh” you answer, looking up from the menu you know by heart. “We can go somewhere else if you want, I thought – “
“No, it’s perfect here. I like it. I used to go there with my Mum and my sister a lot back in Australia.”
You smile softly, relaxing a little bit. People seems to forget sometimes that you are still a young woman who can enjoy eating burger or fries with her fingers.
“How are you settling in London?” you ask after the waiter came to take your command.
“Good, actually. The rain is something else, but the girls are great.”
“I heard you especially like the Swiss part” you smirk.
You laugh when Caitlin blushes. Leah told you about Lia and Caitlin relationship several weeks ago, when they start to date officially. You don’t have to tell Caitlin how you know it though; the girl understands it really quickly.
“Leah talks too much” she smiles nevertheless. “What about you? Are you seeing someone?”
“Not for now” you shake your head, adding when you see Caitlin’s questioning look. “I mean I had some dates slash fling with someone but it’s hard to be in a relationship while working so much. Girls seems to have a hard time understanding I will pass my family and my job before something else. I can understand though, so it’s better for me to be single for now.”
“I didn’t know you were into girls too. You really are Leah’s copy.”
“Maybe” you smile.
Your sister is your favorite person ever. You will never be upset to be compared to her. In your eyes, she’s the most amazing person in the world.
“I am lucky to be able to see her so much. I won’t be able to deal with it as good as you do.”
“It’s very hard sometimes. Because of the lockdown and all I wasn’t able to go back to Australia. I haven’t seen them for almost a year now…”
You wince at the sadness suddenly present in Caitlin’s eyes, regretting to have point this. You are interrupted by the waiter and your meal coming for you, but you excuse yourself anyway.
“I’m sorry to bring it up. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know, don’t worry” Caitlin smiles softly. “I will see them soon now.”
You look into Caitlin’s eyes for some more seconds to be sure that she’s saying the truth, before nodding slowly. She seems to be honest, and you are really relieved. Starting a friendship like this would have been the worst way. You finally smile back and report your attention on your plate just after Caitlin did.
The following of the conversation is a little easier, talking about Arsenal helps a lot. You talk to Caitlin about all the little things she maybe didn’t know for now and learn a lot of things about her and her past. She talked to you about her childhood and the financial difficulties her mother had, raising two children as a single mom. That makes you realize one more time how lucky you are to be where you are now. This kind of stories remember you about it and it’s never enough in your opinion.
October 2021 – The surprise
Unlike Caitlin was hopping, she wasn’t able to see her family as much as she wanted. She went in Switzerland with Lia though and told you that it was a very great time. You thought about her sometimes, remembering the trouble her eyes did to you, but you erased this kind of thoughts very quickly. Caitlin was in a happy relationship and there is no way you even look at a no-single lady.
You managed to build a friendship with her though and you sometimes went out with her, Lia, and Leah. You had a great time every time and you decided that it was perfect for you like this.
Caitlin opened herself to you about missing her family, but the tickets to come in London from Australia were expensive and you know that she doesn’t mean it like that, but you don’t think twice before contacting Caitlin’s sister and offering to them the tickets. They refuse at first, but you managed to find the good words. And, not for the situation being strange, you included Lia in the surprise.
After all, Caitlin was your friend and Lia was her girlfriend.
The Swiss woman went to the airport to take Jamie and her mother back to Caitlin home. Leah asked the team to put some interview or media things for Caitlin at the right time, to let you and her decorate Caitlin’s house with the most too much decoration ever. There is a banner writing “Surprise” on it, yellow and green balloons, an Australian flag, and you even managed to find a kangaroo balloon who is floating around the living room.
“That’s so kitsch. I love it” Leah smirks.
You giggle while looking around. You have to admit that you made a great job together. Two seconds after, Lia and the two Foord were coming inside the house. After some greetings and hugs, they looked at the decoration and approve it too.
“So, I guess this is our time to leave.” Leah says while looking at you.
You nod and prepare yourself to take your things to leave. It was without counting on Caitlin’s mother opinion.
“What do you mean you’re leaving?” Simone asks with her Australian accent. “You helped to do that; you’re definitively staying.”
“But – “ you start.
“No but.”
You see Jamie, Caitlin’s sister, rolling her eyes at her mother antics, but you don’t have time to say something else because Lia comes, running from the entrance where she was looking outside.
“She’s here! Hide!”
After a moment of panic, Jamie and Simone hide behind the couch while Leah and you went to the kitchen. Two seconds later, the door is open.
“Lia? You’re home?” Caitlin asks.
“In the living room, Love.”
You hear the characteristic sound of keys dropping on a wood furniture and Caitlin walking to the living room. You can’t help but peek in the room, Leah doing exactly the same thing a second after, her head above yours.
“Surprise!”
Caitlin probably had a heart attack, but you can’t help but smile seeing her face. Lia is doing the same thing while Jamie and Simone went to hug the shocked girl. You smirk seeing Leah getting emotional, what’s coast you a slap on the head. You send her the Williamson’s glare, but she doesn’t seem to be impress by at for a single second. Which probably make sense.
After some tears and explications, Leah proposed to serve the Champagne she choose to celebrate the reunion. Your sister and you try to escape one more time to let the Foord in family, but Simone doesn’t let you one more time.
It’s a little bit later that you find yourself alone with Caitlin, while you were looking for something alcohol free to drink.
“Lia told me what you did. I don’t have the words to thank you enough.”
Of course, Lia isn’t the kind of girl to take credits for something she hasn’t done. You smile and shrug at Caitlin.
“You don’t have to. I was happy to do that for you.”
Caitlin bites her lip and looks in your eyes.
“You know, when I mention that the tickets were expensive…”
“I know you weren’t saying it for me to do that, Cait. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”
“Ok.”
You smile again and were ready to go back to the living room, but Caitlin surprises you by giving you a hug. You weren’t expecting it to be honest, but it’s still pleasant. You hug her back, tightening her briefly against you.
“Thank you” she mumbles.
“You’re welcome.”
Spring 2022 – The Breakup
“Caitlin and Lia broke up”
“What?”
You stop your movement, your chopsticks between your mouth and your plate. You were having dinner with Leah in her house, like every Monday when you are in London. Leah snorts when the noodles fall back in your plate, making some sauce splash your shirt, but that’s not what you are concentrating on.
“What do you mean they broke up?”
Leah shrug et finish her chicken before answering you.
“It happened this weekend, Lia called me Sunday evening.”
“What happened?”
You were shocked. Lia and Caitlin seem to get along very well the last time you saw them.
“Nothing much. Lia said they just went apart and that her relationship was more comfortable than passionate now.”
“So, they’re ok?”
“I don’t really know for Caitlin. But Lia was still very upset about it. They are still friends and care for each other obviously, but they aren’t a couple anymore.”
You frown only, not really sure what to do about this information. Lia was a good friend of yours and you kind of have avoided Caitlin since you make her family come to England. You realized that day that you were too impacted with her happiness to be only a friend. In your mind, she was with Lia and this relationship would be like forever. It was to protect yourself too, falling for someone who isn’t single isn’t really your thing.
“Did you have news from Caitlin?”
“No” you answer, eating again. “I mean I saw her at the last games but that’s all.”
“Mh.”
“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing.”
“‘k.”
Several hours later, you were on your bed, your phone in your hand and the conversation with Caitlin opened. It wasn’t used since your birthday, Caitlin sent you a message to wish you happy birthday, but nothing since that.
Writing to her isn’t a good idea, even if she’s single now, she still in a middle of a breakup. But you still can be a good friend to her, right? You just have to put your feelings away.
From You Hi Caitlin, I heard about your breakup by Leah. I just wanted to tell that if you need someone to talk or something, don’t hesitate to call or write me, ok? I hope you’re ok. Take care of you.
You feel stupid to send her something like that after reading it again. It’s kind of cliché and you hate it. But surprisingly, Caitlin answers you relatively quickly.
From Caitlin Hello, thanks for your message. I will do and I hope you are ok too.
You bite your lips, not really happy about the answer. But in another way, what could you have expected? You didn’t really talk since last year and you were avoiding her like the plague. It’s only your fault.
After that day, you keep checking more frequently with Caitlin, asking her if she needs anything and how she is feeling. From what she answers, she was around a lot with Jordan and Katie. Your sister broke up some weeks ago with Jordan after longs years together, so that’s maybe the explanation of why Leah stays a little away of Caitlin.
You start to talk a lot and when Caitlin starts to be the first to write you can’t help but feel a strange something in your stomach. You also went to eat or drink something, your friendship slowly beginning to start again. You have to admit that you missed her. But she never said or show you anything to make you think that she missed you the way you do.
You think it’s better to have her in your life as a friend than not to have her, though.
Autumn 2022 – The New Season
You never missed a single match from Leah’s team since she plays for Arsenal, so there was no way that you will miss this one too. It’s the first game of the new season and you just came back from your holidays. You went some days with Leah in Ibiza before flying to Dubai with a friend.
You just have time to go home, take a shower and put your Arsenal jersey before coming to the stadium.
“Here she is!” Leah says happily when she sees you.
She hugs you like you haven’t seen each other in months and not ten days. But you hug her back, kissing her cheek before she releases you.
“Someone got a tan” she smirks, taking a step back to have a better look at you.
Unlike Leah, you have the ability to tan. Leah just gets red when she exposed herself without protection. You roll your eyes but don’t respond anything, your attention being catch by a certain Australian striker coming in your direction, five steps away from Leah now.
“And you’re not with your girlfriend?” Leah asks, a teasing smirk always on her face.
“Girlfriend?”
By now Caitlin is just next to Leah and was able to hear your sister. You roll your eyes at her antics before answering.
“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s a friend.”
You frown when Leah snorts and left saying something like “yeah sure”. You watch her leave several seconds before turning to Caitlin.
“She’s not my girlfriend” you say again.
You don’t know why you feel the need to assure that to Caitlin, she probably doesn’t give a single shit about it. In fact, she smiles at you and pass an arm around you to salute you. You didn’t talk a lot a lot during those ten days, the different timetables were insane.
“It’s good to see you” she says before letting you go.
“Good to see you too. How is the comeback from Australia?”
“Still a little jet lag, but I’m fine.”
You smile at her and take the time to really look at her. You don’t do it a lot, scared to fall for her again. I mean, harder. Because now that you have thought about it a little more, you remembered that Leah always told you not to even flirt with one of her teammate. Falling in love with one of them would be worse than everything. You know that she will react very badly to you in a relationship with one of them. You are scared to lose her; Leah will probably never forgive you if she learns that you are in love with Caitlin.
“You look good” you smile sincerely at her.
“Thanks”
You both hear someone calling her on the back, the drills are going to begin, and she has to go.
“Hey, are you still in London tomorrow?” she asks suddenly.
“Yes, why?”
“There is a new place near mine, and they are making brunch who look stunning. Do you want to come?”
“Sure” you smile. “Text me the address and the time.”
After a nod and a smile, she’s gone where she’s needed. The game went great, they got an easy win. And you try to stay impartial when Caitlin got carded.
Christmas 2022 – The New Delivery service
You were at your parent’s house with all your family, without counting Jacob who stayed in Australia this year. Your mother was sad but thanks to a long video call during the moment when you all opened your presents, she seems a little less sad about it. You eat way too much, drink maybe a little too much too. That’s why your mother more or less forbade you to take your car to go home.
Leah stayed too and you are both chilling in one of your parents’ couch with a hot tea. Some Christmas movie is on TV, but you are in a food coma and can’t really focus on it to be honest. You are cuddling against Leah who is playing with your hair.
“Have you heard from Caitlin those days?” your sister asks suddenly.
“We said Merry Christmas to each other this morning, but I guess she’s sleeping now given the time. Why you ask?”
The friendly relationship you have with Caitlin is known by a lot of your friends and family now. And despite all your efforts, you are now deeply in love with her. Seeing her at least both a week don’t help, but you can’t help yourself. When you’re not asking, Caitlin proposes you something and you can’t say no to her.
She told you during autumn that she doesn’t feel very well in her life sometimes, so you made the statement to keep an eye on her.
“She asks to have a mental break. I’m not sure when or if she will come back from Australia. She will miss the first trainings for sure.”
“She didn’t say anything to me” you frown.
She doesn’t have to, to be fair. You are just friends, you’re not her best friend or her sister. She doesn’t owe you anything. But you are still worried.
Later, in your room, you are thinking about a way to send her a message. You don’t want to accuse her of anything or make her feel more pressure. You don’t want to take a place you don’t have too, you sometimes wonder if she’s not having something with Jordan, which would be a little strange maybe. But once again, she doesn’t owe you anything.
From You Hey, I’m sorry if you feel that it’s not my place to ask. But Leah told me that you needed a mental break, so I was wondering if you were ok?
You wait some minutes before thinking again and realizing the stupidity of your message.
From You Forget my question, it was stupid. You asked for a mental break, of course you’re not ok Can you forget those messages please?
You stop there not to look even more strange. You cringe when you throw your phone somewhere on your bed before deciding to go take a long and hot shower. You roll your eyes when your father menace you to make you pay their hot water bill but don’t say anything other than a “Sorry Dad”.
You smile when you hear Leah laughing from her room, before going back to your childhood bedroom. You have a double bed since you are eighteen so you can lay down crosswise it in your towel and look at the ceiling how you want. You soon start to think about how weird your messages to Caitlin were, so you take your phone again.
Just to see that you have two missed calls from Caitlin.
You call her back without waiting a single second, putting your headphone while you wait for her to answer. You realize that it was a FaceTime call only when she answers you with a black screen.
“Hello” she says in a sad voice.
You may be only imagining that because you learned about her need of a mental break only two hours ago.
“Hi. Sorry I missed your calls.”
“Don’t worry. Were you in the shower?”
“How do you know?” you frown.
“You literally are in a towel?”
You lower your eyes on your body and facepalm mentally. If you had one pound every time you humiliate yourself in front of her, you would have been way richer by now.
“Oh shit. Can you wait for a second?”
She hums and you put your phone on the bed to put a shirt and some panties, mentally insulting yourself. You take the time to take a big breath before going back in your bed and taking your phone in your hand.
“Are you still in bed?” you ask, curious about the black screen.
“No, I’m still in my room though. I just… I don’t know. It was stupid to me to call you in FaceTime.”
“Don’t worry. How are you feeling?”
“I’m tired. Like mentally tired. Being at home made me realize that I don’t have a lot keeping me at London right now.”
That hurt. But you don’t say anything, planting your nails deep into the skin of your palms.
“What are you talking about? You have friends here; the girls of the team love you. And the fans too.”
“The fans aren’t really happy of me right now, I’m not able to score a lot and making my job right. I keep disappointing everyone.”
“You have the right to feel a little uneasy, that doesn’t take away from you what you achieved those last months, you know.”
Caitlin doesn’t answer, but you hear her sight a little bit. You don’t know if it’s something to hide some tears and you feel your heart break a little imagining that. You let several seconds pass before talking again.
“What can make you feel better right now?”
“For real? One of the brunches we eat.”
You smile hearing that. The place next to her house became one of your favorite spots to eat together. You really love it too, maybe because you share a lot of secrets and laughs here.
“Really?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Nothing.”
You are lying. An idea had already pop in your head and you feel your brain running while you’re planning something in your head. Caitlin knows you enough to realize that you are up to something. You hear some shuffling, and you imagine that Caitlin just sits on her bed.
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing” you answer, smiling.
“Y/N. Don’t you dare do something stupid.”
You did. The morning after the call, you went to the restaurant, took Caitlin usual command, and jump in the jet who belongs to your company. You don’t usually use it for long trip like this, but you wanted to be in Australia as soon as possible.
You feel a little bit stupid with your suitcase and the bag where Caitlin’s food is. You ask for it to be wrap carefully and explain that you want to take it on a trip, without mentioning it was a very long trip. Thanks to the fridge, you are sure that you won’t poison Caitlin.
You told to Leah that you have an urgent meeting somewhere in Australia with a possible investor that you can’t ignore. She’s a little bit gutted not to be able to pass New Year with you, but you promised to bring her some Lamington to eat with her tea. In fact, you’re not really lying, you do have someone who is interested by your company in Australia. You just aren’t really obliged to travel here to talk to him.
You swallow with difficulty when you are in front of Caitlin’s porch, hopping that you won’t have to face her mother or her sister. You didn’t mention to Caitlin that you were coming, so if she wants you to go away, you just will. You still have some things to do in Australia, you weren’t totally lying to Leah. You just hide the fact that your priority was to see Caitlin.
You take a big breath before knocking on the door. This is a bad idea. Maybe the worst idea you never had. Why are you so good in your job and so stupid when it concerns the girl you are in love with?
But you don’t have the possibility to stress even more, because soon the door is opening. Caitlin looks at you like you are a hallucination or something.
“Um. I have a delivery for miss Foord?”
You let your suitcase in the car you rent, so you just have the bag with the food in your hand. You lift it to show it to her and it doesn’t take her more than a second to recognize the logo.
“Y/N, what the hell?” she mumbles, taking it in her hand.
“I… Uh. Well, I have stuff to do in Australia for the company and I thought that because I’m on this part of the globe, it could be great to please you.”
You’re lying. And very bad. Caitlin is looking at you like you are crazy, and you can’t blame her, you made a 24 hours journey to take her some breakfast and see her. She’s not supposed to know the truth, but you feel like she has some suspicions. You feel yourself blush and offer her a small smile.
“I better go. Enjoy your food and see you later.”
Maybe you’ll go let yourself die in the middle of the Australian’s desert. With a little luck, some snake or scorpions are going to come to bite you and you will die in atrocious suffering.
“No, wait!”
She grabs your arm with her hand, and you turn in her direction. She’s looking at you with a strange gaze, that you don’t know from her.
“Do you want to drink something? We don’t have Earl Grey, but I still can make you a tea if you want to.”
“Ok” you smile softly.
Caitlin doesn’t let your arm go and took you inside. It’s very quiet and after several seconds you ask her if her mother or sister are here. She answers no, her sister is now leaving with her fiancé and her mother is working today. You nod, secretly relieved to know that you won’t have to face Simone for now. You’re pretty sure that she understood when you saw her the last time the real feelings you have for her daughter.
“Where are you staying?” Caitlin asks while you look at her making you a cup of tea.
“At Park Hyatt”
“In Sydney?”
You hum and she frowns while giving you the cup of tea. It’s fuming and because you are drinking a lot of tea, she knows that you like it with sugar and milk.
“And you wanted to go back in Sydney just after giving me the brunch?”
“Brunch that you aren’t eating, by the way.”
Realizing it, Caitlin takes the bag one more time before taking out the different packages. She still looking at you discreetly, but you busy yourself by drinking your tea.
New Year 2022-2023 – The New Beginning
Caitlin proposes to you to stay at her home and not to go to your hotel, but you refused. You don’t want to bother Caitlin or her mother. That doesn’t mean you don’t see Caitlin; in fact, you see her every day for several hours.
She even invited you to come to the party her friends are making for the New Year. You accepted, after asking her several times if she’s sure that you won’t be a burden. The third time you ask, she threatened to knock you out with her vegemite pot, so you stopped.
And when you’re not with Caitlin, you work. You don’t have the possibility to see your brother who is on the other side of Australia. You almost lost consciousness when you learned that it takes 41 hours by car to get to Perth. So, you promise Jacob that you will see him before going back to England. Still with your jet.
You call Leah and your mother every day, but you are still focused on your goal to make Caitlin comes back to London with you. She seems a little down to be honest, but she seems to be better day after day. It gives you hope.
“Would you like to stay her to sleep tonight?” Caitlin asks on the 31th December while you were sitting next to her on the couch.
“Oh… I don’t know, I still have my hotel room.”
“Come on, it’s like 2 hours from here. And if you drink, I would rather that you stay here. My Mother will sleep in one of her friend’s houses anyway.”
“Yeah, ok” you mumble. “Wouldn’t let you all alone I case you’ll be scared.”
You can see Caitlin’s smile from the corner of your eyes. You hate the pleasant feeling with the fact that she seems to care about you. One thing is sure, this trip doesn’t help you about how in love you are with this girl.
You never talked so much with Caitlin before now, and you never were so close of her. Like right now, you are watching TV and Caitlin’s legs are on yours. You put your hand on the knees of the Australian like it’s nothing, mechanically drawing shapes on it. Sometimes she put her head on your shoulder, and you have to concentrate yourself to stay cool about it.
You grab something to eat before going to take a shower and prepare for the party. You know that they would have been pictures of the night so you tell Leah that Caitlin invites you to pass the night with her and her friends, you know your sister would have been worried to learn that you are alone tonight. Or sad. And you don’t want any of it.
To be honest, you haven’t taken an outfit for the party, you thought that you would be alone in your hotel room. So, you have to shop in Sydney to find the right one. You were getting ready in Jamie’s old bedroom and were looking at yourself with skepticism when Caitlin comes to knock on the door.
“Can I come in?”
“Yep” you simply answer.
She enters the room, and you want to cry. You always had something for her with her hair down and with the outfit she chooses, she’s just breathtaking.
“You look stunning” you say, without thinking about the consequences.
You are surprised to see her blush and hide your smirk by finishing to style your hair.
“Can we take a picture for my sister?” you ask to the Australian woman.
She nods and you briefly hesitate between a selfie or a mirror picture. You choose the second one, posing with a smile and the V-form with your fingers while Caitlin is sticking out her tongue.
You send the picture to Leah with Caitlin looking above your shoulder. The proximity makes your heartbeat faster, but you try to keep it cool one again.
“Are you ready to go?”
You follow Caitlin outside and in the Uber you command to go to her friend’s house. Knowing you both will be drinking, it’s safer this way. You already met some of Caitlin’s friends during your stay and they all are very friendly. But tonight, they will be more of them. The house is pretty crowded already when you arrived, and you are relieved to feel Caitlin grabs your arm.
“Stay next to me, yeah?”
You thank the World for Caitlin being a little shy at first and making her able to understand that you might not feeling ok surrounded by a lot of stranger people. You take the excuse to cross the house to slip your hand in hers. Her hand is soft and warm, and you miss the feeling when you have to let her go.
Caitlin introduces you to some of her friend’s you haven’t met for now. And if you notice the interested and non-subtle look of one of them, you act like you don’t realize it at first. But then, she starts to talk to you so much that you almost don’t have the possibility to pass time with Caitlin.
At some point, you even lose sight of her. And you don’t like the idea, what if someone get close to her? In the way you dream of it? You don’t know if you would support it to be honest, not after being so close of her.
“Come on, let’s dance!” Julia tells you, taking you away of your thoughts.
She takes you on the part of the house being dedicated for the dancefloor and you follow her without saying anything. You look around to see if you can see Caitlin, but it seems like she’s not here. You distract yourself by dancing with Julia who is a pretty good dancer to be honest.
At some point, she comes closer to you to be able to be heard through the loud music. Her hand is on your hips and her mouth right next to your ear.
“It’s a shame that you live so far away. I really would like to know you better.”
You sigh internally, wondering how someone can flirt with you with such facilities when you can’t even make a hint for Caitlin to understand how much you care for her. You don’t have time to answer anything, because there is suddenly someone taking your arm and you recognize the softness of those hand before turning around.
“Mind if I take her back?” Caitlin asks.
Julia raises both of her hand in sign of surrender with a smile. She says something like “Talk to you later” but you don’t really listen to her, your eyes being plunged in Caitlin’s one.
She looks upset, but her voice is calm when she speaks to you.
“I’m going outside. Would you come with me?”
“Sure” you smile softly.
She hadn’t let go of your arm, but you pass your other around it to be sure not being separated from her during your journey to the door. You feel pathetic but you’ll do anything to be able to be close from her. Everyone seems to be here by now and the house is very crowded. With the music, the laughs, and the discussions, going outside is finally a good idea.
There is no one in the garden and the fresh air makes you shiver. But you prefer to be concentrated on Caitlin who has a wrinkle between her eyebrows from frowning. She sits on a low wall, and you follow her to stand next to her, looking at the moon to forget how much you want to touch her.
“Are you ok?” you ask after several minutes of silence.
“I am” she only answer, looking at the horizon.
It seems to you that she is not, but you don’t say anything else. You thought that she asked you to come with her to talk or something, but it seems like you were wrong. Caitlin doesn’t stay silence for long though, turning suddenly in your direction.
“No, in fact I’m not.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m trying to figure out things, and I can’t. And I really need to do it now because otherwise I think I’m really going to become crazy.”
She seems angry and desperate at the same time. She’s talking with her arms, a thing that she usually doesn’t. Hopping to help her to relax a little, you come near her, putting your hand on her knee.
“You can tell me everything, you know that right?”
She sighs, passing a hand on her face. You have the feeling to understand what she think, and that it’s the fact that she doesn’t know where to begin.
“I just… You came here from your appointment but you brought me food just because I mentioned the day before.”
“Yes” you confirm quietly.
It’s maybe better for you not to precise that you went to your appointment because you came here. This feels maybe a little creepy.
“And you told me that you start writing me and talking to me more because you heard by Leah that I was struggling after my breakup with Lia.”
“Yes” you say again.
“Why did we stop talking by the way? It looks like suddenly we grow apart?”
You shrug only, not knowing what to answer to her. You obviously take care not to cross her eyes when you answer.
“Why did you come back anyway? After my breakup?”
“Because I care for you” you answer, looking at her carefully.
“I think I need to know how much you care about me” she says slowly, and you are happy to be in the dark because your cheeks are bright red. “Please, Y/N. Because sometimes I feel like you like me as a friend and sometimes, I feel like there is more than that. But when I tell myself that, you kind of back off and everything is strange and blur again. Just like tonight, I thought that we would pass the night together, but you kept dancing with Julia and I understand because she’s fun and beautiful. But I hated to see you with her, and everything is… blur. And I really need to understand.”
It's your turn to stay silence, because where the hell could you start. You are not closed to answer to her questions, but you are scared because what you have seems so fragile to you.
“Are you interested in me more than a friend?” she finally asks.
Well, maybe you should have talk before because this question is very difficult to answer. Not because you don’t know the answer but because it can change anything. You swallow your saliva with difficulty before answering. You can’t lie to her.
“Yes. I am.” you mumble.
You hear Caitlin taking a big breath before expiring and you just can’t look at her. You hear the people inside getting excited and you wonder if it’s because it will soon be midnight.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Caitlin asks quietly.
“Because I care about you! At first you were in a relationship, and you seemed so happy in it and why in the world would I be between someone and their happiness? Then you broke up with Lia and you seemed so sad and so lost, and I didn’t want to take advantage of you in any way.”
You were talking fast, and loud, the feelings of all of it taking over the rest. You were struggling too, so much, but it was easier anyway to keep all of those feelings inside.
“And now? Why didn’t you say anything?”
You sigh and shrug. You just admitted that you were basically in love with her since day one, what can be worse than that anyway?
“Because I prefer to have you in my life as a friend than to take the risk to lose you.”
There is a moment of silence and just before Caitlin start to talk again, you hear the other people starting to count the seconds before midnight and the New Year.
“You are an idiot.”
10… 9… 8…
You hear Caitlin talk and even if the words could have been harsh, you have the feeling that she is smiling. You just have to look at her to see that she actually is, not her big toothy smile, but the small one. Her smirk.
“What?” you ask.
“You’re an idiot, Y/N Williamson.”
7…6…5…
Caitlin jumps from the small wall she was sitting on to come closer to you. You are frozen, you just watch her move to be right in front of you. You can smell her perfume, see how much her eyes are blue. She looks at your eyes too, before that her eyes drop on your lips.
4…3…2…
She cups your jaw with her hand, so tenderly that you just want to melt only with that gesture. Your heart almost went out of your body when you realize that she’s leaning to you, still letting you the possibility to back off if you want to.
You don’t want to.
1…0
Just when your lips met, the firework of the city irrupts in the sky, being a pretty good metaphor of what you’re feeling inside right at this moment. You are finally kissing the girl you are in love with and she’s kissing you back. She even put her hand in your back to press you against her while her other hand left your jaw to be on your neck.
When the air became an issue, you press your forehead against hers, without being able to suppress the big smile on your face. When you open your eyes, you see that she’s looking at you, offering a shy smile.
“Do you want to go home? To talk about all of this?”
“Talking?” you smile softly.
“Well, maybe kissing too, a little bit.”
16 August 2023 – The World Cup
You shouldn’t feel that way. It’s the semi-finale of the Women World Cup in Australia and your national team, England just won it place for the finale against Spain. You distractedly prevent your sister from jumping from excitement, so as not to make her knee injury worse. You would probably have been happier about the results if Leah were on the pitch, to be honest.
You are looking at your girlfriend’s silhouette, sitting on the floor. You can’t express how much you would like to go on the pitch and hug her tightly. You know how much this game meant for Caitlin and the rest of her team. Seeing her away from you from only several meters when you weren’t able to see her from almost two months is hard too.
You chose to hide your relationship with Caitlin to anyone around you, except Caitlin’s mother who definitively can read way to easily into people. So, you weren’t able to explain to your sister why you felt so moody those past days, the distance between you and Caitlin being hard to deal with. You can’t explain how much you missed her. Even if you call each other every day, it wasn’t the same.
You were busy helping Leah with her injury though, taking her to every single of her appointment, letting Lia Wälti doing it when you weren’t able to. Since Caitlin left, you went to live to Leah’s. And when your big sister told you that she was coming to Australia to the match, you came too. You even were able to see your brother this time.
After the game, Leah took you to the locker room to meet her teammates and you hug the ones playing to Arsenal. And Alessia Russo, who is coming for the new season too. You were talking to Mary Earps when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Excusing yourself, you get out the locker room to answer when you see Caitlin’s ID on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hi. Are you still in the stadium?”
“Yes. Where are you?”
“I just went back to my hotel room. Everyone is so sad, I can’t look at them right now.”
You pout, hearing that said sadness in Caitlin’s voice too. You can easily imagine her on her bed, still her Matilda’s jogging.
“I’m so sorry Babe” you whisper in your phone, looking around you to be sure that no one is around. “You played great and I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks” she mumbles before adding “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, so so much. When are you going back to London?”
“Two days after the game against Sweden. They still want to make a celebration about all of it in Sydney. Are you still staying to watch the finale?”
“Yes, Leah got us tickets. I’m going back the day after though; would you like to go back with me instead?”
She hums only and you’re not sure that she really understands what you ask her. You are not angry or hurt anyway, you know that she has to deal with the lost and the sadness of it. You just want to make her feel better.
One hour later, you were waiting for her to answer to you in front of her door. You managed to sneak inside the hotel and left Leah with Keira and Georgia. You are not sure that she realized you were missing, so happy to be able to pass time with some of her closest friends.
You knock again when you realized that no one is answering, not too hard. You don’t want to attract anybody’s attention. You were tense, scared to be seen by someone. Thanks God, Caitlin finally opens her door and looks at you like she’s seeing a ghost.
“Are you alone?” you whisper.
“Yes, but…”
Just like her mother would say, no but. You entered the room and immediately pass your arms around her neck to kiss her. Caitlin needs several seconds to realize what is happening before kissing you back.
“What are you doing here?” she asks gently when you release each other.
“I missed you. And you are sad and being just dozens of meters away from you without being able to talk to you killed me.”
Caitlin smile sadly, taking your hand to make you sit on her bed. Unlike you were thinking, she changed her clothes and is wearing a short with a hoodie. It feels very soft when you take her against you to hug her. You close your eyes, letting yourself invade by her sent.
“I was looking at you every time I was able to. You are hot in a jersey, but yellow would have suits you better than white.”
She pulls gently on the white t-shirt you’re wearing, a number eight with Williamson on the back, of course. You smile softly, kissing her temple. She snuggles closer to you, passing on of her leg on your own.
“Have you eaten something?” you ask.
“Nah. I’m not really hungry for now.”
“What about a bath?”
“I already took a shower.”
“Ok, I’m asking the question again. What about a bath with me?” you ask after a sigh.
You feel her smirk against you, and she sit on the bed to be able to look at you.
“You mean I’ll have the possibility to get you away from this horrible jersey and having you naked against me by the same move? I’ll be crazy to say no.”
You roll your eyes and throw a cushion at her before getting up from the bed. You then go to the bathroom to start running the water, waiting patiently to find the right temperature. You check your phone just to be sure that Leah isn’t looking for you when the tube is getting filled, and then you go back to Caitlin in the room.
“It’s ready when you are Babe.”
You give her both hands to help her to get up from the bed, which she doesn’t hesitate to take. But, as she gets up from the bed, she’s not following you to the bathroom like you thought she would. She passes her arms around your shoulder, holding you tight against her.
Understanding what she needs, you hold her back, even firmer against you. You are higher from several centimeters from her, not so much though. But you like the way she can easily hide her face in your neck without taking strange position. You rock her softly, kissing her cheeks and her hair several times, only to release her when she’s ready.
“Thanks for coming here for me” she whispers against your skin.
“Every time” you smile sincerely, looking tenderly at her.
She smiles back and cup your chin with her hand, before following you to the bathroom this time. You try to make her go alone in the tub; you really just want her to relax. But you finish with her in it, massaging slowly her back.
You know her team has special masseurs and that they are definitively way more skillful that you are. But seeing how your girlfriend has her eyes closed and let you do whatever you want, it must not be unpleasant. Except that the moan and whispers she’s making are making you think about something else, and please everyone forgive you, but you don’t had sex for two months and your girlfriend is naked in front of you.
“Why d’you stop?” Caitlin mumble with a pout.
You are glad that she’s sitting in front of you and that she can’t see your face, because you are bright red once again. You don’t want to take advantage of her, she’s upset and tired. You kiss her shoulder though, getting her hair out of the way. You love her with her hair down. Have you already mentioned it?
“Isn’t it time for great footballer to go to bed?”
She groans and turn around to face you. You are trying hard to just look at her face and not being distracted by everything else. But then she sits on your lap, and you have to get out of the water right now.
“Why are you so tense?” she frowns. “You may be the one needing a massage.”
You laugh softly and decide to be honest with her since not talking about your feelings made you lost time before. And you are a very bad liar. You bite your bottom lip before answering.
“I haven’t seen you in like two whole months, which mean that I haven’t touch you from two months, Caitlin. And you are naked on me and I’m really trying to be a good and caring girlfriend without sinful ideas because I know how much disappointed you are, but you make it very hard. Plus, the water is getting cold.”
The realization appears on her face, before being erased by mischievous smile.
“We still can put hot water in it.”
In the end, you add hot water on the tub several times. When you emerge from the bath, you are as tired as Caitlin, and she doesn’t need many pleas to make you stay with her. You were planning to go back to your hotel room that night to be honest. But you don’t. You answer to Leah who wrote you to tell you that she’s sleeping with the team and asked you if you want to go with her before going under the cover next to your Aussie’s girlfriend.
You lie face to face with her and smile when she starts to stroke your face.
“You are so beautiful.”
You roll your eyes and smile.
“You need to sleep Foord; you are starting to get delirious.”
She frowns and hit your forehead before leaning to kiss you. You smile against her lips and when she turns around to let you cuddle her from behind, you don’t need more than several seconds to fall asleep.
Hours later, you are waking up of your peaceful sleep by a deep voice with an Australian accent.
“Caitlin Foord what the hell?!”
Caitlin jumps next to you and you groan, hiding under the cover. Before you understand what is really happening, your girlfriend took Mackenzie Arnold by the arm to take her with her in the bathroom.
“Why the hell is there Leah Williamson half naked in your bed?” Mackenzie whisper-shout from the bathroom.
You roll your eyes, rolling on your back to grab your phone. It’s more than 9 in the morning, you really should have put an alarm on your phone. Thanks god, there isn’t message from Leah for now.
“It’s not Leah” you hear Caitlin answer.
“I have bloody eyes you know?”
Now that you realize what is happening, your heart is pounding. Mackenzie isn’t a close friend of Leah, but you know that her girlfriend is a good friend of Alessia who is a good friend to Leah. And you. But more to Leah. And you obviously can’t let anyone near Leah know about your relationship.
“It’s not Leah! … It’s her sister.”
There is a moment of silence and then
“You are in so much trouble. Leah is going to kill you.”
“I know! That’s why you have to shut your mouth Macca, even with Kristy.”
Mackenzie snorts and even you can’t see it, you easily can imagine Caitlin’s imploring look. There is a sigh, and you sit on the bed.
“Alright, I’m not saying anything. But you really should have chosen someone else to get over the lost.”
“It’s not just… We are together, actually. Like in couple.”
“Oooh that’s why you are always glued to your phone?”
“It’s not really the time to talk about that right now” Caitlin points.
She’s right, but you can’t help but smile at this. You are happy to have a good abonnement though, otherwise you will probably be poor because of your phone’s bill. There is some more noise, and the door handle goes down before the gesture suddenly stops.
“Not a word to Alanna too, please.”
“Promise.”
After that they are both out of the bathroom and you smile awkwardly to Mackenzie before she waves at you and get out of the room.
“I’m so sorry.”
Caitlin looks so tense that you almost feel sorry for her, but you are really stressed too. You shouldn’t have stayed the night here. Sighing, you get up from the bed to look for your clothes.
“It’s not your fault.”
Caitlin hums and while you are getting ready, a question pops suddenly in your head. You look up at your girlfriend who is sitting on the windowsill, looking outward. She’s still in her pj’s with her bed hair.
“Cait?” you call her softly.
She just turns her head in your direction. To distract yourself a little bit, you braid your hair while asking the question bothering you.
“I shouldn’t be concerned about Mackenzie coming in your room at random hours of the day or night, right?”
Her face goes soft, and she breaks the few meters between you to stop right in front of you.
“You don’t have anything to be worried about” she answers, slipping a rebellious lock of hair behind your ear. “No one is in my mind apart from you. Plus Macca has her own girlfriend.”
“Ok.” you smile before hugging her.
You stay in her arms longer than usual. Saying her goodbye is hard even if you know you will see her again in several days now.
April 2024 – The Fight
It was several months after the World Cup that Caitlin mentions for the first time to talk to Leah about your relationship. You were still hiding at that time, just like you are still doing now. You refuse to do it, saying that it was too early and explaining to her again why you can’t do that for now.
She understood your place but then she talked about it again in January, when you had to wait for several days to have a date to celebrate your first anniversary. The date being the First of January, you were obviously passing the day with Leah and your family. You gave her the same answer, it’s too soon and you don’t want to fight with your sister when she’s about to come back on the pitches from her injury.
But now, Caitlin is talking about it again and you can feel how much she’s frustrated about it. You try to make everything to distract her from that idea. You took her on trip just the two of you, using once again your jet to gain time. You are sleeping at her house every time you can. In reality you would love to be open about your relationship, in front of your friends and family at least. But you can’t take the risk to lose or disappoint your sister.
“It’s been a year and three months, Y/N.” Caitlin is saying, frowning like never before. “Leah is back on the pitch; we won the finale against Chelsea and your last deal went well and there is nothing holding us now. Well, except you.”
You sigh, pitching the base of your nose. You don’t want to fight with her. It happens almost never to be fair, only when you are talking about this.
“I can’t do it now, Babe. I just… I don’t know how Leah would react and I can’t take any risks.”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“I can’t, Caitlin.”
She snorts and cross her arms on her chest. She’s hurt, you can see it. You try to take a step to touch her, but she backs up from two steps where you took one. Your arm falls stupidly against your hip.
“Come on, you can’t ask me to choose between you and my sister. I told you since the beginning why we can’t talk about it to people.”
“Why are we even together then?” she asks coldly.
The question hurts but you decided to ignore the feeling to stay honest to your girlfriend and make her understand your statement.
“Well I don’t know, because I love you?” you answer, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t feel like it’s really the case right now.”
“Don’t say that” you frown too. “You know that I love you.”
But Caitlin is shaking her head and starts collecting her things around your living room. She’s shaking and you try once again to make her stop. Your arguments have never been deeper.
“Baby, please…” you start but she cuts you.
“No. I can’t do that anymore. I can’t stay with you if that means we’ll never evolve in any way. I just can’t.”
You feel numb when you look at her putting her shoes and taking her vest. You follow her like a lost puppy in the entrance, trying once again to grab her arm. You are successful this time and she stops her movements.
“Where are you going?”
“Home. Let go of me now, please.”
You just obey, slowly releasing her arm. There is a lump in your throat when you talk again.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
Your voice is hardly even a whisper, but Caitlin doesn’t miss it. Her blue eyes cross yours when she looks up over her shoulder.
“Talk to you soon.”
And then, she’s gone. You try to call her of course, texted her too, but she never answered. It’s with puffy red eyes and tears on her face that Leah finds you under your covers in your bed several hours later. She got scared when she doesn’t receive any answer to her text and just come to your home.
She hugs you at first, helping you to calm down to be able to talk and explain what is happening. You hesitated at first, before telling her everything. Well, almost everything because you never mentioned Caitlin’s name or the fact that she knows Leah.
“Tell me her name and I will go on her to make you cry like this.”
Your big sister managed to take you out from your bed to go to the living room and made you drink water and eat something. There are still tears running on your face from time to time, but Leah takes the time to wipe them gently each time.
“She just broke up with me. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Leah makes a grimace before taking you back against her for a new hug.
“If she can’t wait for you, it means that she didn’t deserve you, Love.”
“Can we stop talking about her? Please.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
Leah puts the TV on, starting a random show and you try to concentrate on it. You can’t really, but you are still so thankful for your sister. The way she listened to you talking, holding you while you cry like a crazy woman without pushing you to know anything else makes you think that maybe she wouldn’t have scream if you talked to your love for Caitlin. But it’s too late anyway. Caitlin doesn’t want you anymore.
********
Two days after, on Saturday, Leah took you to the game. She almost hasn’t left your side, only to go to training. You are still working though, losing yourself in work. Like you always did before Catilin.
“What’s happening to your sister?” Lia asks Leah during the training.
Your sister turns in your direction, watching you several seconds before sighing. She’s aware that Caitlin isn’t far away from them, but she doesn’t know where your problem comes from, so she answers anyway. Caitlin is supposed to be your friend after all.
“She’s navigating through her first breakup” Leah answers, still looking at you.
Your mother is sitting next to you, she has her hand on your shoulder. Leah explained to your parents what was happening to you and of course your mother is looking for you like you are dying. You are looking at the pitch, but Leah can tell that you aren’t really looking. Unless you’ve discovered in yourself a passion for corner posts.
“Oh? I didn’t know she had someone.”
“Me neither” your sister sighs. “She’s like this since Wednesday but she doesn’t want to tell me who she is.”
Next to your sister, Caitlin gulps nervously when she crosses Steph’s gaze. Caitlin is a mess since Wednesday too. She took the decision to leave, but that doesn’t mean that it’s easy for her. She almost called you a thousand times. She missed you and wasn’t able to hide her sadness with the people who know her the best. Steph Catley is one of them.
“What?” Caitlin snaps at her teammate.
“Nothing” Steph answers, still looking at her suspiciously.
Caitlin went back to the bench nervously to grab something to drink, looking discreetly in your direction. Now your mother is talking to you, and you are looking at her, but Caitlin knows you very well and realizes how destroyed you look. Of course, it made her sadder than ever, but she still has her point. She wants to move in with you, be able to talk about her girlfriend to everyone one, she wants to take you on date in London and not only seeing you in one of your apartments. She wants to be able to walk holding your hand where you both live, not in the other side of the world. She wants to be able to take a plane without needing to hide in the airport.
You were hopping that Caitlin will be benched today, but she’s starting just like Leah. Which means that you will have to look at her for 90 minutes, knowing that you lost her.
It’s a great game to be honest, and while your mother feed you with fries and chicken nuggets (it’s a family thing) you are able to distract yourself enough not to cry while watching your ex-girlfriend.
Leah is sub at the 78th minute and Caitlin is still playing. You would have preferred for her to go on the bench too, particularly when she got hurt five minutes after that. The tackle wasn’t clean at all and you know right away that Caitlin is hurt. Like really hurt. You don’t need to see the stretchers coming for her, you don’t need the concerned looks of her teammate or Katie shouting at the girl taking Caitlin down.
You are up of your seat instantly, trying to have a better look of what is happening. They take longs agonizing minutes to get Caitlin out of the pitch and you run in the locker room in hope to be able to see her. But you just run into Leah.
“I’m going to the hospital to be with her” your sister explains to you. “I’m not allowed to go with her to the ambulance so I’ll take my car.”
“Can I come with you?”
“Sure.”
You are relieved that she doesn’t question you, but once again Caitlin and you are supposed to be friends. Even close friends. You follow Leah to the parking, and she’s ignoring the fan calling her name for the first time. You are so nervous that you want to throw up and you are glad that your sister isn’t talking, otherwise you are not sure that you will be able to contain yourself.
One of the Arsenal’s medics is waiting for you when you arrive, and he takes you into a private waiting room. From now, you just have to wait. Sitting next to Leah, you put your head on her shoulder and are glad that her cuddle instinct is so high when she passes her arm around your waist to hug you. You really don’t deserve her love; you were lying to her from months now.
Leah was scrolling on her phone for what feels like hours when someone comes in the waiting room.
“Are you here for miss Foord?” the medic asks.
“We are” Leah answers while getting up. “How is she?”
“Right. So, her leg has a doble fracture, but those are sharps break so she normally doesn’t need any surgery. She’s in a lot of pain though, so we give her something to help her. She also has a big bruise on the knee, but it will resolve itself. Would you like to see her?”
“If it’s possible, yes” Leah nods.
“Only one person for now.”
Your sister turns to you and you shrug, trying your best to smile at her. You would kill to be able to see Caitlin right now, but she doesn’t know that you are here. And you’re not sure that she wants to see you. Probably not.
“Go. I’ll text or ring her mother.”
Leah nods once again and follow the male nurse to Caitlin’s room. There are strange machines in the room, but Caitlin is up.
“She’s under drugs. She might be a little out of it” the medic whispers to Leah before leaving the room.
The noise of the door makes Caitlin turns her head in Leah’s direction. The blonde gives her a smile and take a chair to sit next to her.
“Oh. Wrong Williamson.”
“What?” Leah laughs softly while sitting up.
Caitlin is speaking like she’s half-asleep but when she looks at Leah, your sister feels like she knows very well what she’s saying. At least that the words are real.
“I would rather see your sister.”
She shrugs and wince, the drugs making her head feels fuzzy.
“Well she’s here, I still can ask her to come if you want” Leah proposes kindly.
“She’s here?”
The surprise on Caitlin’s tone is astonishing to Leah, who frowns a little while looking at her friend. She knows how much time you pass together, well for the brunch or this kind of things. Not really that you passed almost every night together when you are in London. Unless it’s a Monday and you are at Leah’s.
“Yeah?”
Caitlin stays quiet for several seconds, before sighing and looking at the window. The view isn’t amazing to be honest, just the parking lot of the hospital.
“She wouldn’t want to see me anyway. I fucking broke her heart.”
“What are you talking about?” Leah frowns deepens.
She doesn’t mean to take advantage of Caitlin under drugs, but it’s about you and you are the person who is the most important in her life. It’s not a one-side thing, you are Leah’s person as much as she’s yours.
“We had a fight Wednesday because I wanted to tell you about our relationship or at least that she really thinks about telling you. But like usual she had excuses, and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I love her so much it’s hurt. I just want to be able to hold my girl in public and tell the world how wonderful she is. Who travel the world to bring someone fucking pancake? We were amazing and now we are nothing and a fucking prick just broke my fucking leg and I just want to her to hug me. But she can’t because I fucking wasn’t patient enough with her.“
Leah is stunned. And not only because of Caitlin’s unusual use of swear words. She never though a single second that Caitlin and you were more than just friends. Or that the Australian was the reason of your tears for the last days.
“I know that she loved me, but she loves you even more Leah. She was so scared to lose you. But now I lost her. And I’m really tired.”
“You should sleep a little maybe” Leah mumbles.
Caitlin sighs and close her eyes.
“I’m going to see my sister, will you be ok alone a little bit?”
“Yeah” Caitlin breath before opening her eyes. “Will you tell her? That I love her?”
Leah hesitates some seconds before nodding and smiling softly.
“Yeah. I will.”
She watches the Australian woman closes her eyes and falling asleep as soon as her eyes are closed. Her mind is running, trying to understand what she just learned. She feels like she isn’t really here when she finds you still sitting on the waiting room. You immediately spot her concern look and get up from your chair.
“Is everything ok? I just wrote to Caitlin’s mother that she will be fine?”
“Yeah, she just fell asleep.”
You let a shaky breath pass your lips, really relieved. Your sister still looks pale, but maybe it’s because of those white walls?
“She has a message for you though, that she asked me to tell you.”
“What is it?”
You are curious to know and look at your sister who cross her arms on her chest while looking at you.
“She asks me to tell you that she loves you.”
Well now you might be whiter than Leah. Your big sister watches you become paler than ever, she watches your eyes widen too and how you open your mouth several times to talk without anything coming out.
“What were you thinking Y/N, really?”
You could cry right now. You passed months perfectly hiding your relationship to Leah, giving you probably the onset of an ulcer due to anxiety, and some drugs from a public hospital is going to break all the efforts you made?
“Leah, I’m so sorry” you began, begging while looking at her. “Please, I never wanted to hide something to you, I swear.”
You were panicking. You just lost your girlfriend and now you are about to lose your sister too. The two most important people in your world, sorry to your mom.
“I just don’t understand” Leah says, shaking her head.
You probably are going to have a panic attack.
“I…”
“I don’t understand” Leah cuts you “How you might have thought that I will be mad at you for being with someone who made you happy?”
You don’t understand and you probably don’t look very intelligent with the way you are looking at Leah. She’s still frowning, but you realize that she isn’t mad at you, she just seems lost.
“You said several times that I wasn’t allowed to flirt with one of your teammates, Le” you point, whispering.
“I said flirt because I didn’t want some of hormonal footballer taking advantage of you! Being in love is something else.”
“You are not mad at me?” you ask shyly.
“Of course not, you idiot. I love you more than anything, your happiness is what comes first.”
Leah rolls her eyes and reach out to you. You don’t hesitate to go in her arms, relieved by the unexpected turn of events. The nose in her hair, you whisper :
“I’m sorry for keeping things away from you.”
“It’s ok” Leah says softly, squeezing you a little harder. “I’m sorry you were in so much pain.”
She kisses your cheek and let you go, not without taking you by the shoulders to have a better look at you.
“We are going to make things better between you and Caitlin now, if it’s really what you want. Ok?”
“I’m not sure she’s still interested. She really is mad at me.” you shrug.
“Please. She told me I’m the wrong Williamson, if she doesn’t take you back, I’ll send her back to Sydney.”
********
When Caitlin wakes up almost three hours later, the sun was gone and the room is almost in the dark. There is a small light on the nightstand, and she needs some seconds to remember where she is and why her leg is hurting like hell. She groans and try to roll on her side, her back sore to have been in the same position for hours now. But her leg hurts more, and she opens her eyes, grimacing slightly.
Then she sees you and froze several seconds.
You were already looking at her, like you were doing since you entered the room. She doesn’t seem really peaceful while sleeping and your heart hurt to see her in pain.
“Hi” you whisper, in case her head is hurtful.
“Did I really told your sister than I’m in love with you or was I dreaming?”
You look at her several seconds, trying to see in her eyes if she’s stressed or anxious before answering.
“You ask her to tell me that you love me, but I guess it’s the same thing.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok” you say, coming closer to the bed. “It’s not what bother me now. How are you feeling?”
“Ok, I guess. Thanks god we are at the end of the season. The doctor said I will be ok to play for the Olympics.”
“That’s a good new”
Caitlin hums and you look at your hands, lost in your thoughts. It’s maybe a good think that she hasn’t ask you for now to get out of her room, but you chose not to push your luck too much.
“I uh, I’ll let you in peace now. I wrote to your mother and your sister to reassure them, but Beth came with your phone and other stuff like one hour ago” you explain while getting up. “You can write to them if you want to.”
“Oh… No wait, please. Can you stay? Just a little bit?”
You hesitate for several seconds, looking at Caitlin before answering anything. You want to stay, of course. You finally slowly sit down again on the chair.
“Thanks” she mumbles. “Look, about what I said to Leah…”
“It’s ok” you say again, shrugging. “She isn’t mad.”
“No?”
You shake your head, playing with your nails and fingers without looking at her. Caitlin knows how much Leah means for you so you’re pretty sure that she would have feel guilty if Leah was mad at you.
“Is she not mad because she knows that we are no longer together, or would she have been even if we were still together?”
“I think she would have been ok. If that was the case.”
You hear Caitlin takes a deep and big breath, making you look at her. You can’t read the feeling on her face, so you are happy to see her talking again. You don’t know what behavior you can have with her now, are you still able to ask her all the questions you want?
“I don’t know how to say that” Caitlin sighs. “But is there a chance that we maybe try to make things better between us?”
“Better like in being friends again?”
You see Caitlin rolling her eyes and you understand quickly that you haven’t guess right. You are surprised to see a small smile on her face despite the situation you are in.
“How can you be so clever when it’s about your company and so obvious when it concerns relationships?”
You roll your eyes too, used to being criticized about your lack of ease in human relations when they do not concern your job.
“Yes, because you are the most sociable and none-shy person in the world yourself.”
“Touché.”
There is a silence, during which you are looking at each other.
“Can you forgive me for running away the other day?” Caitlin asks softly.
“Only if you forgive me for believing during all this time that my sister wouldn’t accept our relationship and how I was wrong.”
She smiles again and you smile back at her. You get up when she asks you to sit next to her by patting the bed next to her. That place being the other side of her injured leg, you oblige.
“I don’t know how explain how sorry I am. I shouldn’t have left like this.”
“I get it. It wasn’t a pleasant situation. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t love you or anything.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I am too” you whisper.
After one second of hesitation, you put your head on her shoulder, and you close your eyes when she put her chin on your head.
“So, what now that Leah knows?” Caitlin asks.
To be honest, you don’t really know. Today was a lot of feelings to deal with and you don’t even know where to start. Your girlfriend (?) seems to understand what is happening in your head, because she kisses tenderly your temple before talking.
“What about I get out from here first?”
“That sounds good” you smile softly. “And from here, you come right to mine so I can take care of you.”
“Perfect.”
You watch the Aussie laying down on the bed and you turn on your side to be able to look at her better. With your finger, you are tracing random patterns on her arm. You know that she’s falling asleep but you need to ask the question.
“Cait?”
“Mh?” she answers, without opening her eyes.
“Are we back together? Like, are you my girlfriend again?”
She snorts and snuggle closer from you, already half-asleep.
“Yes we are. Weirdo.”
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Text
Long Lonely Layover (Nanami Kento x Reader)
Sitting at a bar in the Paris airport you’re approached by a handsome stranger on a similarly long layover.
warnings: SMUT, MDNI, 18+ Only. kissing, sexy, doggy, oral, getting right nasty up in the bathroom, public sex, standing sex, standing oral, talk of contreception (keep it safe yall), emotions after sex
6.7k words. Ao3 I really hope you enjoy this one, I hope was super happy to write for this big beautiful man once again. Kind of plus size coded reader(all my readers are pretty mid/plus sized coded.)
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Your eyes flicked up to the bottom right corner of the news broadcast in front of you. There was a little animation card that showed the weather, the date, and the local time. 
Charles de Gaulle Aéroport, Paris. 12:22 pm
The broadcast changed to a commercial, some beautiful woman biking through a sunlit trail, a glass bottle of wine in a stylish backpack that was apparently the product for sale. How you craved to be that woman, you wanted to feel the sun instead of these harsh, artificial lights above you. You wanted to open a bottle of wine in some gorgeous Parisian park, not pay a massive up charge for each pour, as you were now. Your last flight had brought you here nearly an hour ago, you didn’t board your next flight for another two and a half. A four hour, cumulative, layover. Just enough time to drag, but not enough to fully leave the airport, stretch your legs, and enjoy some local sights. Especially with how long customs could take. You sighed, daring to check the clock display once again. 
12:23pm 
Fuck. 
The airport bartender hovered the bottle of white wine above your glass, you nodded, and he emptied its contents. In your defense, the bottle had already been opened by another patron before you sat down, you just drank the remaining two glasses worth. Taking a small sip, deciding it may be better to start savoring these— you have a long afternoon ahead of you, you scanned the airport terminal for a duty free store that may sell books. You could pick up a saucy paperback or a mystery thriller and breeze through the next few hours. No luck, you would have to close out and wander through the various hallways and levels in search of one. You took a larger sip of your wine, feeling confident in your next plan. Before you could catch the bartender's attention, a voice came from your side. It sounded like French, someone was speaking to you in French— in the Paris airport, a likely place for that to happen. But the tonality held something else, something richer and augmented. You turned toward the voice and found an apologetic looking blonde man. He was tall, even from your place on the barstool you could tell, and he was, broad shoulders, the black and burgundy pinstripe blazer that housed them looking like dark brick you’d find in one of Paris' many gothic style buildings. Catching yourself, you looked up at his eyes and saw him gesture his head toward the stool next to you. 
“Puis-he m’asseoir ici?” He asked, presumably again as you had completely missed what he said earlier. 
“The seat? Oh! No- yes! Wait no, no one is sitting there, yes you can sit here.” You didn’t know a lot of French, but this was a common enough phrase that after some embarrassing mental flip flopping you were able to answer. 
He softens, and pulls the suitcase slung over his shoulder and sets it down next to the stool,
 “Merci.”, he smiles softly, “or—I suppose—Thank You would be better, here.” 
You smiled in awe, “English and French. Very impressive.”
Nanami blushes at your voice, or maybe it was your smile, pretty, perfect teeth shining at him, your cheeks curling upward, he thought he felt his heart leap. He shrugs a bit, an attempt to downplay your compliment. 
“My French isn’t very good. Mostly yes, no, is that seat taken? Can I get that coffee or that pastry? ” He adds, pointing to the imaginary bakery case before him, “The English is okay, I do a lot of business over the phone so I get more practice.” 
“Better than mine! French slipped through my education totally. Spanish a bit, but mostly just English.” You shrug, eyeing him carefully as he slid into the bar stool next to you, making himself comfortable. 
He was brutally handsome, a long, sloped nose stopped just before a pert Cupid’s bow, tan rose colored lips stayed slightly parted as he listened to you. But his eyes, amber and honey, outer irises deepening to an oaken, whiskey brown, they took your breath away. You couldn’t look at them very long, finding yourself unable to form thought, and quickly blinking away. Small scatterings of freckles lined the tops of his hollowed cheeks, and the line of his nose, such a lovely detail on an even lovelier man. His hair was clearly styled at some point, but was quickly losing its hold, sandy blonde strands falling in front of his eyes as he read the menu in front of him. 
Nanami could feel you looking at him, the skin of his neck was heating up, he wanted to take off his jacket, but that would be too obvious. He hadn’t noticed you when he approached the bar, he truly needed a drink after the turbulence on his flight in from Tokyo, 14 hours of travel so far, 8 more to go. But when you turned your face, observing the terminal around you, he stopped in his tracks. You were gorgeous, truly gorgeous, the details of your face reminded him of an oil painting, all soft lines and creamy textures. There was one seat open on the bartop, directly next to you. Maybe he should have been embarrassed how quickly he had rushed over to you, but you didn’t seem to notice him catch his breath, or his hurried approach when you spoke to him. And now he could feel his heart drumming in his chest as he struggled to read the menu in front of him. His French was fine, he had to use it more often than he expected when he joined the French club in university. The bartender approached tentatively, you assumed he was also a bit intimidated by the Adonis that had joined the bartop. Nanami assumed it was because he could see him sweating already, confirmed by being served a glass of water nearly instantly. 
Nanami scans the menu quickly before he darts his eyes over to your half full wine glass,he turns to you. 
“Sorry,” he starts, god this is embarrassing, “which wine is that?” 
“It’s the Amici Olema. Do you want to try it?” You were taking a chance here, sliding your glass towards him.
This could be taken as a moment of generosity from a kind stranger, a massively inappropriate imposition, or as flirtation. You weren’t even totally sure which one you intended it to be, yet.
His blush darkened, and his breath hitched. Nanami tried to control his trembling hand as he graciously accepted your offer. The glass was sweating a bit from the chilled wine condensating. He could see where your fingers had been before, there was the slightest sheen on one lip of the glass, where your lips had been. He restrained himself from putting his mouth in the same spot, opting to taste from the opposite edge instead. The wine was delightful, tart and cool, there was a subtle peach note on the back. Nanami hums happily, his eyes closing blissfully, allowing it to linger in his tongue before returning your glass. He nodded toward the bartender asking for a pour of his own. You looked down at the glass in front of you, one shared between yourself and this handsome stranger. His pretty pink lips against the same glass as yours, a small smudge showing you exactly where he had sipped. The popping of the fresh wine bottle woke you from your lingering fantasy.
“Thank you for the recommendation.” He raised his glass to you.
You tap your glass against his, “I’m glad you like it….” 
You raise your eyebrows indicating you were wanting to add his name. 
“Kento Nanami.” He replied offering you a wide closed lip smile. 
You told him your name in return. Sipping your glasses in sync. There was something exciting about knowing you were tasting the same thing. The same tartness that slid over your tongue, was coating his as well. The thought made you cross one leg over the other. You pray you were being subtle enough. 
A thick silence blanketed the two of you. The noise of the airport hummed and buzzed around you. Boarding calls and codes run out from the loudspeakers in various languages, often repeated one or two times. Your fingers slid over the menu, you were starting to feel the effects of four glasses of wine, you should probably eat something. The bar menu wasn’t expansive, mostly appetizers, a few salads, a few  questionable sounding sandwiches. Nothing was making your mouth water but you could already feel your stomach growling.
“Are you hungry?” You to your left again facing Nanami who had now adorned the cutest pair of reading glasses fuck he was too much , “I’m hungry but I’m not starving and these flatbreads look pretty big. Would you want to split one?” 
“Only if you let me put it on my tab.” 
You started to protest but he raised his hand.
“For the great wine recommendation.” He finished, those honey eyes catching yours and making you swoon. 
You sighed out, barely containing your smile, “well if you insist, how can I say no.” 
He ordered with the bartender, and you dipped your wine positively smitten, his French was clean and lilting. The smallest hint of his home accent lingered, his pronunciation of the swirling language was nearly perfect. Under different circumstances this would be a very good date. You chastise yourself in reminder that this is not a date, this is just benign, unintentioned human kindness that bears no flirtation and you should be sick with yourself for even entertaining the idea. 
That is, until he removed his jacket. He leaned back in his stool, pulling the blazer away from his body. Giant, ropey biceps in a barely fitting black sweater. This guy was trying to kill you. He hung his blazer in the back of his chair, back muscles stretching the fabric even further. Thankfully, his turned body gave you solace to chug your ice water, knowing it wouldn’t satiate the thirst you were feeling. 
Nanami seemed to be unaffected by your gawking, adjusting his glasses and checking his watch, sighing at the slowly ticking time. 
You needed a second to gather your voice back, “long layover?” 
“About two and a half hours.” He removed his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. 
You nodded, “mine too. It’s a beautiful airport to be stuck in, but…it’s still an airport.” 
He let out a laugh, his smile showed two small dimples on either side of his lower lip. 
“Do you travel often?” He asked, taking another sip of his wine. 
“For work, yes. I’d like to do some more traveling on my own. But this works for now.” You shrugged.
He nodded, knowingly, “what do you do?” 
You told him. Your job was a little complex to explain but he listened closely and seemed to relate. You two began talking about your respective careers. You learned he worked for a Japanese finance company that had a few international offices in the United States, Denmark, Argentina, and the UK. This was his first time traveling internationally for this job, being sent out to settle the last few details of a contract. He asked good questions, he listened closely to your answers. Minutes ticked by, the food arrived, more glasses of wine being poured, the stories shared became more intimate and detailed as you two grew closer both emotionally and physically. Soon you two were nearly interlocking your knees, the flatbread completed, a new bottle of wine nearly half drunk, your cheeks flushed, his glasses discarded, folded on the table.  
You slipped your cardigan off your shoulders, leaving your arms and collarbones exposed to him. The wine had heated your skin, Nanami’s eyes flicked over your form quickly before returning to his wine glass. 
“So your wife must hate being apart now that you’re traveling more.” You baited him. It was an obvious ploy on your part, the wine had numbed some of your finesse. 
Nanami smirked, immediately catching you out, “I’m not married but that was very clever. Very subtle move.” 
You laughed with him, his mix of teasing and praise sent your head fluttering. He continued,
“I do prefer my move of not-so-subtly checking if you were wearing a ring, which I did earlier when I asked about the wine.”he sipped the shallow pour still in his own glass, “you don’t wear a ring. But plenty of people don’t, are you with someone?” 
He had begun to lean in conspiratorially, as though your relationship status and your sharing of it were top secret information. But you could see the small flecks of gold in his irises now, the small beginnings of lines around his eyes, the pores along his nose and cheeks. You shook your head, catching his eyes directly. You both lingered in this moment; neither of you were beholden to someone else, the acknowledgement of shared chemistry hung between the two of you, the ticking clock of your coming departures ticked away in the back of both of your minds. Nanami watched you closely, your lips parted slightly, eyes drinking him. He would normally feel anxious being observed so closely, but your gaze was so warm, so inviting, he felt nothing but total elation. 
His gaze was so intense, you felt so seen by him. Maybe it was the wine, more than likely it was the company. The serendipity of this moment. You weren’t one to believe easily in fate, but you were inclined to believe something beyond had brought this man to you. One as beautiful, as charming, as engaging as Kento. You checked the television’s clock briefly. Only one hour left until your flight starts to board. Only one hour left before you never saw him again. Only one hour. 
“Can I ask you something, kind of crazy?”  The words slipped from you before you could think rationally. 
Kento had noticed the time as well, counting down the remaining fifty-nine minutes until your separation. He had donned his wire framed glasses again, wanting to memorize every inch of you in perfect clarity. He raises his eyebrows at your question, heart pounding in private hope. Could you? Would you? 
“Please.” He answered, leaning closer, his knee sliding against yours, “ask me anything.” 
You flicked your eyes down to where his body touched yours, you hadn’t yet felt him touch you, but even the brush of his clothed leg against yours had your throat tightening. 
“I’m not one to…ask this sort of thing, but since I’ll probably never see you again after this, I won’t have to bear the shame.” You swallowed hard, begging your courage to stay with you, “you’re…incredible. I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re smart and funny and so charming and you’re…fucking stunning. I would be so remiss if I didn’t ask…” 
Your words were failing you, your heart racing, you scanned his face for any sign of coming rejection and your throat caught, closing it off from more words. 
Fuck. You were caving in. This was so embarrassing, so presumptuous. You had ruined what could have been a good memory. 
Fuck
Kento gave you another moment to see if you would finish your question. When it was clear you were psyching yourself out, he watched as you sighed frustratedly. How sweet.
Nanami put the toe of his shoe under the foot rest bar of your barstool and pulled your seat closer to him. Your eyes shot open, embarrassment quickly turning to confusion. Nanami put his arm around the backrest, just barely brushing over your back as he did. Bringing you back to look at him, he smiled wider at your sweet, blushing face. He moved a piece of hair out of your face, fingers lingering on your soft skin. His touch was electric, enticing, you wanted those fingers in your mouth, on your body, anywhere, everywhere.
“I would be honored to find somewhere private where we can pass the rest of this layover.” Nanami’s eyes had grown darker, full pupils and focused, “if you’ll indulge me.” 
In a flash the tabs were paid, both by him, drinks were finished, bags were grabbed, and you had quickly located the closest empty room with a locking door to you. Nanami’s hand on your lower back ushered you inside quickly before shutting and locking the door behind him, pulling on it once to guarantee you wouldn’t be interrupted. You set your bag on the ground, next to his own carry on, and stood back up. Facing him directly, now in total privacy, in the motion activated light of this family restroom the ticking clock faded, the crowd of the airport was forgotten, it was only him and you. Nanami looked at you, head to toe, before taking a few careful steps toward you, as one would approach a centerpiece in a well curated museum. Thoughtful and admiring. He stood chest to chest with you, although as a tall man he stood quite a bit above you. He hadn’t yet removed his glasses, they sat perched in his nose, intending the skin on either side. You could smell his cologne, something subtle and herbal. Bergamot and cedar. His large, warm hands came to cup your face, yours covered his.
“I’m usually much more of a romantic. I hope you’ll forgive me.” Kento leaned in, his lips barely brushing yours in apology before kissing you. 
From the moment your lips touched, you were gone. He tasted like the wine you shared, his lips were soft and hungry. It took no time at all for your tongue to find its way past his lips. His hands flew from your face to your waist, up your back, down to squeeze your hips. Yours similarly wandered, across the downed of his back, up his arms, tugging at the cropped hair at the nape of his neck. The bathroom quickly filled with the wet, smacking sounds of your kisses. You removed his jacket, and your own. Soon your shirt was discarded on the floor. You didn’t even have time to lament not being able to wear something nice before he pulled your comfort focused sports bra over your head, your breasts falling freely. He watched them bounce freely before settling, his mouth watered. You covered yourself shyly. 
“Don’t stare…” you weren’t sure where this bashful side of you had come from, surely he was pulling it out of you. 
He moved your arms, baring your chest to him again, before moving onto his knees before you. His hands traveled up your body, pawing at your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. 
“You’re right, we have so little time.” Nanami looked up at you wickedly, something devious and titillating behind his amber eyes, “and I have to get you ready.” 
Before you could inquire further he began to pull your comfy travel pants off of you, untying the drawstring easily, stretching elastic, not your sexiest apparel but here he was down on his knees begging for you. You realized he hadn’t yet removed his sweater so you tugged at the back of the collar. He pulled the black knit over his head, in a second. You took the opportunity to slip off your sneakers and removed your pants fully. His body was just as incredible as it seemed, he truly was something out of myth. Gladiatorial build, masses of muscle cut lean under his fair, even skin. The freckles on his face littered his shoulders and the tops of his pecs, his abdominal muscles were further contoured by a tan colored happy trail leading into his still belted and buckled trousers. You moaned at the sight of him, making him smirk (and blush). He returned to his spot between your legs before looking back up at you. 
“Do you trust me?” He spoke, voice rough with arousal. 
You nodded desperately. You did. Anything he wanted from you, you would have given him at this moment. It wasn’t until he moved one of your thighs over his shoulder and snaked the paired hand up your back to support you, that you figured out why your trust was necessary. Immediately your blood ran cold, anxiety shadowing your arousal. He looked like a strong guy…but you were a fully grown woman: tummy, thighs, breasts, and arms to show as much. Never did you think someone would even attempt to support your full weight like he was implying. 
“Kento…wait..I’m-“, you protested, trying to move to stand on your own legs. 
His grip was iron as he kept your leg on his shoulder, he was at eye level with your pussy, hypnotized by the sight of you wet and waiting for him. He would not be denied. 
“I regularly bench more than 180 kilos, you’re a warm up. Please trust me.” 
His voice was so flippant, as though lifting your entire body over his shoulders was the most obvious feat in the world. Your reservations held strong until his pleading eyes looked up at you again, his mouth watering, hair disheveled, he looked so hungry. You couldn’t bear the thought of depriving him.
“Please.” He asked again, giving your leg on his shoulder a soft squeeze. 
You nodded again, and he slung your other leg over his shoulder in one perfect lift. You now sat on his shoulders with your back against the wall, his hands holding your waist and hips. Finally, after three excruciating hours of build up, Nanami finally tasted you. If he weren’t already on his knees they would have buckled. You tasted better than he had imagined, so wet for him already, your pretty moans still reaching his ears even through your legs against his head. Your hands found his hair, gripping onto him for stability, taking your nail across his scalp as he lapped feverishly at your cunt. He didn’t realize he was making deliciously primal grunting sounds as he gorged himself on you. His moans sent vibrations into your core and up through your body. You rushed to cover your mouth as he shook his head side to side, tongue flicking perfectly at your swollen, throbbing clitoris. 
“Fuck!” You panted, not caring how hard the back of your head hit the bathroom wall, “you’re so good at that, fuck, Kento—ah!”
Nanami smiled, drunk of your taste, your sounds, the feeling of your body on his shoulders. He was losing himself completely, he could have stayed like this for eternity. Pleasuring you could become his life’s purpose, his calling, he could be the devotee at the altar of your sexuality and die a happy man. But he was all too aware of the ticking clock that would rip you away from him. Luckily, he was a man who thrived under a deadline. 
Nanami sucked hard at your clit, alternating between pushing his tongue deep into your hole, and circling it around your clit. You couldn’t believe how good it felt, in just a few minutes he had solidified himself as the best loved you had ever had, and it wasn’t even close. 
But you were, you could feel your impending orgasm rushing toward you like a speed train. You whimpered into your palm, trying to warn him, (or warn yourself?) about what was to come, but he could already feel it. Your hips were shaking against his face, legs clamping down against his ears. Like a true expert, he didn't change a thing, his patterns and devotion bringing your orgasm crashing down around you in seconds. 
You cried out into your palm, the other hand gripping the back of Kento’s neck to hold him in place. He was happy to relish in your climax, sucking in everything you released onto his eager mouth. When you couldn’t take anymore, you pushed at his forehead, whimpering. 
“No more, no more. Please.” 
When his mouth was no longer attached to you he sucked in a breath, coming back to himself. He squeezed the flesh at the top of your thighs, right where they met your hips and tummy, coming down from his own haze he pressed soft, intentioned kisses to the insides of your legs. He turned his eyes back upward, his pleasure drunk eyes and dripping mouth making you swoon. Nanami eased you off his shoulders carefully before lunging to kiss you again, it was so dirty to taste yourself on his tongue. 
“You taste like heaven. I don’t know how I’ll go without now that I’ve had you.” He uttered against your lips, tongue still charging forward against your own. 
You mewled at his praises, “you’re so good. Too good. You do this a lot?” 
Hot kisses fill the gaps between words as you bring your hands to his belt, unbuckling and pulling at the waistband of his pants. Kento shakes his head, pulling off from the kiss to look you in the eye. 
“I’ve never done anything like this before.” He was as shocked as you were.
He wasn’t usually social, let alone pulling people who were essentially strangers into private corners to have sex with. You had brought something out of him he hadn’t even known existed. Something primal and desperate, something passionate and consuming. You were touched at his admission, and awestruck by his natural skill and the situation you were in. You kissed him again, finishing the removal of his belt. His hands trembled with enthusiasm as he helped you remove his pants. You couldn’t help yourself, you reached past the fly and palmed him through his briefs. Fuck. 
He was big, thick and full and so hard it was a miracle he wasn’t in tears. You moaned at the heft of it in your hand, which only caused the caged erection to pulse more. You wanted to taste him,to feel the weight of it in your mouth, to  know every inch of this man before he was gone from you. Kento groans at your hand stroking him through the fabric, indulging briefly before putting his hand over yours, training his eyes back to you. He looked disheveled and desperate, hot mouth hanging open to catch his breath, eyes hazy and drooping. 
“We don’t have enough time….” He mumbled, his forehead pressing against yours, eyes screwed shut he huffs out as you squeeze him, “I don’t have a condom…I’m sorry.”
“IUD.” You assure him, desperate to feel him raw inside of you, to feel him pulse and grow and cum.
He grips you harder, eyes opening wide, “Are you sure?”
You nod, practically lapping into his mouth for another sloppy kiss. He removed his cock from his briefs, not pulling his pants down or away and stroked himself a few times, each one eliciting another moan into your open mouth. Holding you close against him, Nanami allowed himself to luxuriate in the feeling of your body pressed against him. Trying to remember the heat, the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your perfume, the way your hair felt in between his fingers. He ignored the ache in his heart as he struggled to imagine how he would be able to let you go now that he held you. He couldn’t bear to think about that yet. Not while he could have you now. 
“Brace your hands against the door, please.” He ordered against your lips. 
You nodded before turning and placing your hands in the form of a standing push up against the locked, all too thin door of the restroom. You shivered as you felt Kento’s hands outline the form of your body, nearly crumbling entirely when you felt the tip of his cock brush against your ass. He leaned in close to your ear, moving your hair to one side, one of his hands interlocking with yours against the door. His chest pressed against your back, radiating heat. His breath tickled the tiny hairs on the shell of your ear.
“I’m sorry this isn’t more romantic. You deserve to be worshiped and spoiled properly, I’m sorry I can’t give that to you now.” Kento’s tongue trailed up the side of your neck as his unentangled hand aligned himself with your sex. 
When Kento Nanami finally entered you, it was inhuman the speed at which he rushed to cover your mouth, stifling the cry that came from you. 
He shushed you hurriedly, “You sound so beautiful but I can’t have us interrupted. Bite my hand if you need to.”
He filled you so completely, thick and deep. He was so big, you felt your velvet walls throbbing around him already, beating in time with your frantic heart. His hand kept yours locked against the door, fingers interlocked sweetly, despite the firm grip. His other hand held your hip in place, he pulled out nearly to the tip before filling you completely again, somehow deeper than the previous. His cock head pushed right up against your cervix making your eyes roll back and you whimper pathetically against his palm. After another thrust your arms started to shake, barely able to hold yourself up against the door. Nanami, of course, noticed.  
“Here, hold your arms like this.” Still sheathed inside of you he moved your arms in front of you, folded together as though you were sleeping, and pressed you further against the door, body now flush against the cool metal and wood. 
You buried your head in your arms, every thrust of his sending you further and further into total euphoria. You tried so hard to be quiet, keeping your mewls muffled against your arm, but it was so difficult when he really started to thrust, setting a delicious rhythm that even your best toy could never achieve. 
Nanami’s teeth were threatening to pierce the skin of his lip, the groans and grunts he held back threatening to erupt. You were so tight around him, if he had had any thoughts left he would have worried his cock would snap off. He palmed the flesh of your ass, spreading you out to watch your walls stretch and cling to him as he thrust in and out. He nearly came right there, eyes rolling back, a throaty huff leaving him, he couldn’t watch anymore or he would lose himself completely. He found solace in pressing his forehead against the connection point of your neck and your shoulder, whispering to you in a long stream of praises and promises. 
“You feel so good. You’re taking me so well. I would have taken you out first, if I could have. The nicest table at the best restaurant I know, you deserve it. Fuck. Fuck, anything you wanted. I should have had you in a beautiful bed, you’d look so gorgeous splayed out for me--agh, fuck you’re getting so tight. You’d like that, huh?” He shuddered as you clenched around him, body shaking, resolve crumbling. 
His words were growing more and more nonsensical, sounds paving through thought to fill the small bathroom. Everything about him felt engineered to make you cum, and you were so fucking close, you could feel his cock twitching between thrusts, he was getting close too. You raised your head from your arms, he seized the chance to press his forehead against your cheek, his lips meeting your skin anywhere he could. Your ear, your cheek, your jaw. You felt spoiled, you felt ravished, you worried you may never be able to fuck another person. No one would have you again, no one could make you feel like this, only him. Only him. There was only him. 
“I-I can’t last…I--” Nanami pleaded in your ear, his whisky voice dowsing you in pleasure, your eyes rolling back, mouth dropping open into a silent scream. 
Your second orgasm was summoned in full force, tipping over the edge and arriving all around as Kento sounded the most delicious, salacious moan directly against the skin of your face. His hips jerking beyond his control, his own orgasm being pulled from him by you and your fluttering cunt. He pushed in as far as he could, tip pressing against your cervix. His hands held your hips so tight you knew he would leave bruises, you silently prayed that they would never leave you, that you had been marked by him forever. Your breath returned to you in choppy, pitched up gasps, he was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, catching you before your legs could fail underneath you. He was still filling you, spurt after spurt of white painting the inside of you as you trembled in his sturdy arms. Panting together, folded together, coming down from a simultaneous climax you and Nanami shared a moment of singularity, joined together completely, with no sense of time or place, nothing existed outside of the pair of you. And the pair itself held no boundary, no ego, no sense of self.
The bliss was quickly chased away by the remembrance that after this, you would never see him again. A dual continental moment of chance led you here. However distance, logic, and responsibility would rip you apart. Despite the ache in his heart, Kento was the one to break the embrace, kissing the bare flesh of your shoulder blade as he pulled out and slowly set you back onto your own feet. His hands didn't leave you until your colt legs had grown into a firmer foundation. At which point you felt a chill surrounding you, embarrassment, fear, but above all of that: a profound and perhaps overinflated sense of loss. Nanami shuffled behind you, the sound of a zipper, the retrieval of his discarded sweater. You couldn’t turn to face him yet, you didn't want to see the denouement, for it to truly be over. 
Fabric brushed against your tricep, calling your attention back into the restroom. 
“Your pants.” Nanami’s voice was gentle, so different from the raw honey depth you had just experienced, You turned on an inhale, accepting your clothing back. 
He watched you start to redress, with every inch you pulled up your pants, covering your shapely naked legs, he sank further. He didn’t expect to feel so empty, truthfully he hadn't expected this at all, he meant it when he told you he hadn’t ever done anything like this before, he had the occasional one night stand but always in more formal, organized scenarios. He didn’t think himself capable of such raw passion, such chaotic intimacy. He wasn’t ready to forgo this new streak in himself. 
He was dressed far before you, now focusing the entirety of his energy mourning the loss of the sight of you. You found your bra on the floor, and by donning it, sealed the sight of your round, smooth, perfect breasts away from him forever. Your shirt went over your head and covered the expanse of your bare stomach, the early stages of finger shaped bruises on your waist no longer for him to admire and take pride in. When you were dressed again you turned to face him, scared eyes softening at the sight of him. 
“This was…” You started, unsure of how to finish. 
Unexpected? Sudden? Life changing? Mind blowing? Emotionally irresponsible? 
He nodded, knowing whatever you chose to fill that blank, he was feeling too. He took in a long breath before closing the distance and pulling you into a long, deep kiss. His arms wrapped around your back, one hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head. No clashing tongues, no biting lips, no frantic hands grabbing whatever they could. Just his swollen lips joined with yours. Your eyes were closed but you could feel the sting of tears starting to build. You fought them down and focused instead on memorizing the feeling of his kiss. When he finally pulled away he held your face in his hands, brushing one cheek affectionately with his thumb. Those golden brown eyes beheld you so kindly, so tenderly for a second or so…had it been eternity, it wouldn't have been long enough.
 Nanami’s watch glinted under the overhead lighting, flashing lightly in his eye, alerting him to the time: 3:03pm, his flight had begun boarding. He sighed, looking back to you. 
“Listen…”He started, eyes boring into you, “This was…incredible. You are incredible. I don’t want to go, my flight is boarding. Its the last one out tonight or else I would miss it, I promise.” 
You laughed a bit, your smile returning. He separated from you to dig through his bag before pulling a business card out for you.
“I know this is unlikely but, if you’re ever in Japan, I would love to see you. Please, reach out.” He gazed at you hopefully, however not expecting an answer. 
You nodded, watching as he picked up his bag and peered in the mirror, brushing the front part of his hair back in an attempt to look less like he had just fucked in the family bathroom of an airport terminal, it was not successful. He moved to the door, unlocking it carefully, before stopping himself. Kento turned back to you, chuckling in spite of himself. 
“I don't want to go.” he repeated, just barely audible to you. 
This time you traversed the gap between you, kissing him once again. He struggled to hold you again with one hand holding his bag, but he managed, indulging fully in your lips for the last time. 
“Thank you for this, Kento. You are really something amazing.” You brushed some of his hair back from him after separating your lips, “If I am ever in Japan, you’re my first call.” 
He smiled down at you, unable to resist pecking your lips one final time before opening the bathroom door and peeling away from you. When the door closed you took in a long breath. You were thankful for how it had ended, you were far more thankful that it had happened at all. He was already becoming a fond memory you would treasure forever. One day you would remember him as a testament to your youth, to being exciting and risky. But for now, the smell of his cologne still lingered in the room, the sound of his moans still rang in your ears.
You made your flight just before the gate closed, having taken too much time in the bathroom trying to cool your flushed face, smooth your mussed hair, rid yourself of the smell of sex that seemed to stick to you. You didn't miss how the flight attendant rolled her eyes at your approach, scanning your ticket and allowing you to enter the bridge. Luckily your employer had sprung for a first class seat, so you didn’t have to rush the length of the plane in order to find your row. You were grateful to find an empty spot in the overhead bin only a few rows ahead of where your seat should be, quickly stowing it away before moving between the aisle apologetically. You were thankful you had chosen an aisle seat so you wouldn't have to ask whatever poor sap was sat next to you to get up so you could sit down. Finally you arrived at the row and seat number that matched your ticket. Raising your head from your triple check of your seat number you saw your seatmate. A broad, beautifully built blonde man in a black knit sweater whose cum was still sticking to your legs. He gawked at you, you felt your mouth mirroring his in a surprised O. 
“This is your seat?” Was the only thing you could think to ask. 
Before he could stutter out an answer the flight attendant who you had already wronged interjected, “Ma’am, please find your seat and sit down.” 
You nodded, still in disbelief staring at him as he stared back at you. You took your seat next to him, your shoulders touching. Such a small touch felt electric as though he hadn’t been inside of you just minutes earlier. Neither of you could say anything yet, stunned, elated silence settling in the inches between your seats. Without having to say a thing, Nanami reached across the arm rest and picked up your hand, closing it in his. You turned to meet his eyes, which were somehow more brilliant and inviting than they had been. It would take eight hours and some change before you reached New York City, eight more hours with him. Eight more hours. 
ooooooooh! maybe a cheeky part 2? :P who knows!!! I really hope you guys enjoyed this one! Thank you so much for reading, and for all of your support with my writing, it makes me so happy. Love as always, --Doodle.
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astroph1les · 7 months
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this love | chapter three [h.c]
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summary: the king and queen are away and the kingdom is yours to explore. you make a trip to town and a stop by a lake that tests your relationship with hazel. the night ends with a moment that will change your life forever.
pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader
contains: angst, isabel just being the sweetest girl to exist, hazel opens up, mutual pining, it’s begun….
word count: 7K
a/n: i love them. that’s all.
this love masterlist
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To say you were elated was an understatement.
You felt like your head was above the clouds as you woke up on your own the following morning. Your parents were gone and they would be for the next month. A month without them breathing down your neck about your princess-like duties, criticizing your every move, and comparing you to the one person you truly missed; your sister, Moira.
When your mother and father left the kingdom for tasks such as wasting their time searching for yet another prince for you to despise, they called off a vast majority of the staff to go back to their own homes back in town. A few guards and knights were the only ones other than you, Isabel, and Hazel were staying at the palace.
You knew the palace you lived in was quite big but when the people who took up so much space were gone, it suddenly became clear.
You sat up slowly from your sheets, stretching your arms upwards as you smacked your lips. It was strange to not have Mildred, Vivian and Beth come in to instantly begin to get you ready in the morning before you could even process being awake. You were still in your nightgown when you heard a soft knock come from the other side of the grand doors to your bedroom.
“Yes?” You call from your bed, raising your voice a bit louder so that whoever it was could hear you.
“Is it alright if I come in?” Isabel’s soft voice flows through the wood.
Your smile formed as you shouted for her to come in. You were getting out of the extremely comfortable bed that was tempting to fall back into when the doors opened. Your eyes widened when Hazel followed in after Isabel, somehow surprised that she was there.
“Good morning!” Isabel, sweet as ever, is the first one that speaks, already in one of her daily dresses.
Hazel’s eyes widened at the sight of you in your nightgown— your very see-through nightgown. She turned around as quickly as she had seen you.
“Princess, I’m sorry. I hadn't realized you were still…” She stumbled out an apology.
“Hazel, it's alright, really. I’ll be dressed in just a few minutes.”
Hazel simply nodded, remaining in silence throughout the duration of Isabel getting you ready. She kept glancing at you the entire time with looks that were confusing you. A smirk lingered on her pink lips but again, there were no words. Only glances between you and Hazel.
You and Isabel had landed on this rather beautiful simple white gown with a purple corduroy vest for a pop of color. Isabel had weaved half of your hair into a lengthy French braid while the rest flowed down your back.
You cleared your throat with a smile, staring at Hazel’s backside, and waited patiently for her to turn around. Once she did, she immediately began to apologize once again.
“Princess, again, I had no idea that you were still…” Hazel trailed off, raking her eyes up and down your body.
You flushed at her intense gaze, shaking your head.
“It’s alright. We’re all women.” You state plainly, shrugging your shoulders.
Hazel stared for a moment, a sudden silence and tension falling over the entire room. She nodded curtly before clearing her throat.
“Right. Well, is there anything you’d like to do today, princess?” Hazel spoke as if to distract from what had just happened.
You hadn't really thought about it. This newfound freedom without your parents was so riveting, you couldn’t decide what to do first. There were so many things that you had dreamed of doing without the precious king and queen breathing down your neck.
Now, it was really only Hazel that was on your every move but you didn't mind that much. You actually preferred it.
“I’d like to go into town.” You state with your full chest, staring at Hazel patiently.
Isabel’s head turned to you as her bright green eyes softened. Isabel’s family lived in town and she didn't get to see them as often as she liked so you could knock out two birds with one stone; your closest friend seeing her family and you being able to explore the town for the first time.
Hazel was hesitant. You could tell by the way her eyes widened at your words before she nodded.
“Of course, princess.”
As soon as those words left Hazel’s mouth, Isabel wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you into a tight hug. You copied her movements as you let out a soft chuckle.
“Thank you,” Isabel breathes out with a relieved sigh that makes your heartache.
“No need to thank me, Bel,” you release her to hold her hands, matching her excitement.
“Princess, I’m sorry to interrupt but if you’re ready, I could bring the horses around for you and Isabel.” Hazel stood still, eyes flickering between you and Isabel.
Isabel simply nodded, her thrilled smile making your morning.
“We’re ready, Hazel. Thank you.” Your smile matches Isabel’s as Hazel walks towards the bedroom doors to tug them open for you both.
You and Isabel interlock arms, the soft fabric of your long and flowy bell sleeves. Hazel nodded curtly at you both then lingered behind you both as Isabel gushed to you about how absolutely thrilled to see her mother and sisters. Once you all had made it outside, Hazel made her way to the stables quickly to grab Peanut and a soft brown horse for Isabel.
Hazel had one hand on each of their bridles as they trotted on either side of her as they crossed the courtyard. You and Isabel stand at the bottom of the steps, waiting patiently for her to approach you both with the horses.
“Peanut, hi!” You beam as his snout bumps into your hand. “You are just the sweetest.”
“He really likes you.” Hazel’s dimple appears from her small grin, a flush showering over your cheeks and chest.
“It might be my royal charm,” you joke as you scratch underneath his furry jaw.
Hazel nodded. “Of course. Who could resist your royal charm, princess?”
You could feel your heartbeat in your ears once she said that, freezing your hand on Peanuts’ jaw. Isabel’s arm released yours as she made her way to the other horse. You didn't miss her pursed lips and how she looked down at her flat shoes.
You let out a soft laugh before shaking your head.
“Thank you, Hazel.” Your laugh was awkward and you knew it but you focused on Peanut as you knew he couldn't make your cheeks spark a fire.
“Isabel, are you alright to ride the horse?” Hazel questioned the elated girl.
“Yes. I’ll be right behind you guys.” Isabel cooed the horse she was assigned before hopping onto the saddle.
Your eyes widened for a moment as you realized that you had never ridden a horse. Your excitement clouded your lack of horse-riding skills. You cursed the fact that your parents had banned you from the stables so that you wouldn’t smell like ‘peasants’.
They were so infuriating; even when they weren’t physically here.
“Wait, Hazel, I have never been on a horse.” You reach for her arm but then pull away, afraid she will reject your touch.
Hazel had two fingers gripped onto the bridle and stared at your hand that was retracting itself. You tucked it away into your other palm and cleared your throat.
“That’s no problem. I can help you, princess. Here.” Hazel held her hand out to you, her slightly calloused palm exposing themselves to you.
Your eyes glanced down at her hand and back up at her darling ocean eyes. You carefully take her hand, hoping you weren’t acting like her touch was terrifying. A part of you felt that it was for a reason that you couldn't quite describe.
You grab onto her palm, growing comfortable with the feeling as she guides you to Peanut’s stirrups.
“Now, it's quite easy. Put one foot in this stirrup and then place your hand right here,” Hazel placed your hand on the saddle, letting go of you for a moment, “for stability.”
You did as you were told, looking at her repeatedly to make sure you were doing everything correctly. Then came throwing your body up and on top of Peanut.
“Hazel, can you… help me?” You glance down at her insecurely, hating the idea of struggling in front of her.
“Hey, it's okay. You’re okay, princess.”
Hazel’s palm that had made its way to your lower back, steadying your shaking frame. You couldn't tell if you were shivering like a leaf because you were afraid that you were going to break a tailbone or her gentle touch.
Using as much upper body strength as you can, you throw yourself up and over the leather saddle, gasping when you make contact with Peanuts’ body. You hurriedly grasp for Hazel, your hands wrapping around her hand tightly.
“There you go. It’s alright, princess. See? You’re a natural.” Hazel was quick to reassure all of your troubled thoughts of falling off and accidentally cracking your skull open.
Isabel, too, began to tell you that you were doing great. You nod rapidly in an attempt to calm yourself down as well, slowly releasing Hazel’s hand. Your chest was rising and falling at a pace you weren’t aware that you were capable of.
“That was terrifying.” You breathe out but a smile forms on your face.
Peanut was as calm as ever as you adjusted yourself so that you could be towards his behind. There was no way you were going to be able to steer and manage leading the way for the beautiful horse. Hazel kept her hands out for a few more seconds just in case something happened suddenly.
Once she was sure that you were set, Hazel easily hoisted herself up and onto Peanut’s body. Your eyes were locked on the back of her head, wishing that you were able to see her sharp cheekbones and darling blue eyes once again.
“Are you alright, princess?” Hazel slightly pants out from the quick movements.
You nod, muttering a soft ‘yes’ as you reach your arms forward to wrap around her torso through her everyday knight clothing. You didn't even think about your actions removing your arms for a moment.
“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to.” You panic, rubbing at Peanuts soft fur as you could feel his warmth underneath. It was quite relaxing.
Hazel chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t mind, princess. I would rather you have your arms around me than you not.”
Your breath got caught in your windpipe, looking back at Isabel who was running her fingers through her horse's mane. If you listened closely, you could hear her whispering to the horse sweetly. You smile small at her before taking the chance once again and wrapping your arms around Hazel’s torso.
Was it wrong how you enjoyed feeling her toned stomach through the material of her clothing? It had to be. You shook your head at yourself as Hazel lightly kicked the side of Peanut's body to send him off to trot the three of you to the kingdom's town.
The small journey was breathtaking.
Once you all had passed the gates of the palace, it was as if you were entering a new world. Your eyes bounced from tree to tree, taking in the view of the panting-like sky and miles of fields that went past the horizon. Your smile grew with joy as you watched a few deers gradually make their way to a small stream for some water.
It was a baby and mother deer. Your heart ached at the sight of the sweet moment in nature. Yes, you knew it was quite odd to be so taken back by something as simple as this but this was the first time you’ve ever made it out of the palace on your own.
Soon, you were met with the sight of a few buildings along with a few shops. Your eyes darted from the few commoners that were walking along the stone walkways.
“Hazel!” You hear come from behind you and realize it's Isabel on her own horse right behind you two.
Hazel leaned back slightly to cause Peanut to come to a halt. Your gripped tightened around her waist at the sudden movement, a flush rushing to your cheeks. You had hoped it was just the sun’s bright rays beaming down onto you.
“Is everything alright?” Hazel asked Isabel as she and her horse maneuvered around Peanut to come face to face with the two of you.
“Yes. I just wanted to let you both know that I will be leaving the both of you to go and see my family just outside of town.” Isabel informed, her excitement written all over her bright features.
Your eyes softened at her, hoping that she’s able to see her family and have a wonderful time.
“We can meet back here at the entrance to the town by sundown. Not a moment later.” Hazel instructed Isabel, her tone becoming quite stern sending an unknown shiver down your back.The knight straightened her back before nodding her head and adding; “I hope your family is well, Isabel. The princess and I will stay here in town until then.”
Isabel’s eyes flickered to yours with slightly raised brows. You nodded as well, urging her to move forward. Without hesitation, Isabel taps her foot on the side of her horse as it galloped forward and past the bypassing townspeople.
“Look!” You point over Hazel’s shoulder at the market that was becoming more and more crowded by the moment. “Can we go to the market? I’ve never been.”
Hazel turns her head to the side, her cheek brushing past the perfectly sewed and mended fabric of your dress sleeve. Your reflexes kicked in and you pulled your arm back, the touch alone becoming too overwhelming for you. Maybe you should just keep them at her waist.
“As you wish, princess,” her tone was a bit more teasing this time causing you to smile to yourself.
After coming to a stop, Hazel hopped down from Peanut’s saddle to then hold her palm out for you to grasp onto. You carefully take her hand in yours, that previous fear of her disappearing for a moment. Peanut huffed and neighed a bit as you got down carefully.
You nearly slipped on the stirrup causing Hazel to reach forward to hold onto your waist. Your hands settle on her shoulders as you lean into her touch to help balance yourself.
“Are you alright, princess?” Hazel’s eyes followed your features all the way down to your ankles.
“Yes, I’m… alright. Thank you, Hazel.” You nod as you carefully release your grasp from her rather firm shoulders.
Hazel nodded curtly, her hands still on your waist for a moment before releasing you as well. Her hands flexed by her sides as she ran a hand through her deep brown hair. There was a sudden tension that made your head spin with confusion. You couldn't understand this feeling that has formed between the two of you.
“So, are you ready for the market?” Hazel hummed, scanning her area.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You state as you make your way forward into the unfamiliar town.
Just like inside the palace, Hazel lingered merely a few inches behind you. You curiously make your way to a table that was filled from edge to edge with a variety of necklaces with beautiful pendants. The vendor was a woman no older than thirty with a startled look on her face. Her dark purple and deep blue dress matched with her similarly patterned head wrap.
“Oh my, you’re the princess.” She spoke with a hand to her chest, eyes flickering to Hazel who was right behind her.
Before you could confirm, she bowed in your presence causing you to hold back your grimace.
“Whatever you like here, it's yours.” She rushed out, motioning to the many necklaces.
You were becoming overwhelmed by how anxious she was. You knew that your parents had installed this fear into the townspeople that they had to be at the royals beck and call. You couldn't understand how they gained so much pleasure from causing people to react like this.
“Thank you….” You trail off, hoping she would say her name.
“Beatrice.” The vendor— now known as Beatrice— nodded, her fingers clasping together nervously.
“Beatrice, thank you for the kind gesture but I tend to pay for the necklace of my choice if I so choose.” You insist, eyes glancing back and forth between Beatrice and the array of jewelry.
Your eyes lock on a gold pendant with a heart carved into the circle. Being gentle, you pick up the piece of delicate jewelry with a small smile.
“How much is this?” You question before turning to Hazel.
Hazel inches closer to you so that her chest was pressed up against the back of your arm.
“Yes, princess?” She asks you.
“Do we have any sterlings?” You whisper as you were suddenly aware you had no clue if you even had the coins to pay for it.
Hazel shook her head slowly, her face filled with guilt. Beatrice was about to tell you the price when you felt a hand tug on the skirt portion of your dress. You jump slightly when you realize it's a little girl; no older than five years old.
“Well, hello,” you chuckle softly at her long blonde hair and innocence-filled brown eyes.
“Excuse me, miss? My mummy says you’re the princess. Is that true?” She questions you, obvious doubt in her question. Her small arms cross over her burgundy clothed chest.
You turn to glance at Hazel with raised brows. Hazel had a hand on her hip where her holster was as she peered down at the child as well.
“Yes, I am the princess.” You nod to confirm.
Her eyes widened with excitement as she jumped up with a gasp.
“I’ve never met a princess before. Do you have a million dresses in your wardrobe?” She asked, running a tiny hand over the material of your dress.
“Maybe not a million but quite a few, yes.” You shrug your shoulders, your cheeks hurting from how much you were smiling.
“Ella!” You hear from a distance, watching a woman who looked almost identical to the little girl emerge from the crowd of townspeople.
“Mummy, you were right! She is the princess!” Ella shouts to her mother who came to scoop her up from the ground right next to you.
Ella gripped onto her mothers shoulder, eyes locked on you still wide with admiration. The woman, much like Beatrice had been, looked rather afraid than anything as she began to apologize to you.
“I apologize, princess. She ran off when I wasn’t looking a-and—“
“There’s no need to apologize.” You shake your head and wave at Ella who waves back with a dimpled grin.
“I want to be a princess when I grow up,” Ella sighed as she leaned her head on her mothers shoulder.
The sentence caused a sudden wave of sadness to flood over you. You wished you could tell her it isn’t as elegant as everyone may make it out to be, that the only redeeming quality was an empty home. Her big doe eyes that held so much life melted your aching heart. It was clear her mother cares for her as she caresses the back of her golden hair and kisses it gently.
Something you missed in your own life.
“With your beauty and curiosity, Ella, you’re already a princess.” You brush a piece of her flyaway hair with a soft smile.
She beamed at your words, her dimple deepening into her skin.
“We’ll leave you be now, princess.” Her mother sent you a gentle smile as she turned on her heels to walk back into the crowd.
You watch her disappear between the bodies and turn back on your heels to face Beatrice and Hazel.
“I apologize but I don’t think I’ll be purchasing the necklace. Perhaps another day, Beatrice.” You shake your head simply, hoping she understood.
“Oh, well, that’s alright, princess. You have a pleasant rest of the day.” Beatrice nodded with a more bitter smile.
You frowned slightly before you felt a hand escorting you away by your lower back. You knew it was Hazel by the way she handled you.
“You were quite kind to that child.” Hazel spoke up as she released your back to now walk beside you as you continued to stroll through the busy town.
“Oh, that was nothing really,” you glance at her, missing the sight of her face.
“No, it was… admirable, princess. Don’t do that.” Hazel shook her head as she avoided your gaze, eyes locked forward.
You furrowed your brows before asking: “Don’t do what?”
“Minimize your kindness.” Hazel stated as if it was obvious.
Was that a compliment? You wondered to yourself.
“You really think it's admirable?” You question Hazel, hoping that you didn't sound as desperate as you did in your head.
Hazel stopped in her tracks to turn to look at you in disbelief. You sucked in a deep breath as people passed by you but you felt as if the world had gone still as soon as Hazel did. The rest of the townspeople became a blur when her eyes were on yours.
“Do you really think so little of yourself, princess?” Hazel asks you, her tone matching her expression.
The question had stumped you. You shake your head and continue to walk forward, leaving her question unanswered. In a way, you felt exposed for how easily she was able to see right through you.
“I think we should stop by the bookshop.” You clear your throat as you try to divert the conversation.
Hazel sighs as she tries to reach for your wrist but you only pick up your pace, noticing that sudden movement. You spot a wooden sign with the word library carved into the deep oak wood. You knew it was quite childish of you to do but you went ahead into the bookstore. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind Hazel was following right behind you but you looked back anyways just to reassure yourself she was still there.
Hazel’s gaze locked with yours but quickly diverted to the shelves. The rest of your time in the bookstore and the town was silence between the two of you and as much as you hated to admit it; it pained you.
You could tell that Hazel was trying to be respectful and keep her distance. You didn't want distance anymore.
In the midst of you examining a few carrots you wanted to get for Peanut, you hear Hazel speak up form behind you.
“Are those for Peanut?” Her voice was careful.
You tilt your head slightly before shrugging your shoulders. “Yes. I assume he needs to eat.”
You grab at the orange vegetable, grabbing a few from the vendor. You had arranged to have the coins delivered to him the next day as you didn’t have the sterlings on you.
“Come on. I actually have something I’d like to show you if you allow me to, princess.” Hazel was getting tired of the silence and wanted to know that you weren’t angry with her.
You nod kindly at the older man vendor before turning to Hazel. Her expression was silently pleading for you to come along.
“Alright, Dame Callahan,” you motion her to walk forward, a smile curling onto your lips. “Lead the way.”
Hazel’s tense shoulders relaxed at your own smile, replacing her weary features to a more calm state. The two of you began to walk back to where Peanut was being held near the entrance arch. You beamed at the horse as you held the end of the carrot to Peanut’s snout watching as he ate the vegetable.
“What did you have to show me?” You turn to Hazel who was caressing the side of Peanuts body.
“It’s on the outskirts of the town. It’s a few miles into the forest.” She hesitantly suggested, eyes flickering between you and the dark horse.
That could be an adventure, you tell yourself. This silent tension between you two has got to pass and this could be an opportunity to fix your stubbornness.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” you smiled softly at her.
Her eyes shone with relief and your heart clenched at the noticeable difference in her attitude towards you. She held her hand for you to help you backup onto Peanut to venture into the forest past the town. You got onto the saddle a lot easier than the first time, Hazel following your movements to straddle Peanut. Her hands grip onto the reins as she taps her foot against Peanut’s ribs to send him off.
You turn around with both of your arms around Hazel’s torso to watch the town shrink as the distance grows. Subconsciously, you lean your head forward to rest on her upper back and shut your eyes as you listen to her heartbeat. It was pumping fast with adrenaline, matching the way her ribs flared in and out as she breathed.
The fresh summer breeze brushed past your hair, cooling the back of your neck.
“Comfortable?” Hazel turned her head to ask you, raising her voice.
You nod, lifting your head up with a blush. A little too comfortable, you thought to yourself feeling embarrassed for doing such a thing. Hazel chuckled to herself, the feeling of her ribs expanding causing you to laugh softly as well.
You became distracted as you noticed a bridge came into view. It was a few feet across but underneath was only a portion of a lake that stretched more than fifteen acres across. You had no idea how deep it was but it was a beautiful sight. The way the suns’ rays bounced off of the water and the surrounding grass highlighting the body of water. A few weeping willow trees dangled its leaves from above the bridge, sort of hiding the bridge if you looked at it at a certain angle.
“What is this place?” You question with a smile.
Hazel tugged back on the reins and Peanut came to a halt. She hopped down from the horse with a grunt, flipping her hair out of her face before reaching out for your hand.
“It’s much better up close.” Hazel assures you, looking out to the lake.
You reached for her grasp with a soft chuckle, peering out at the lake as well with admiration. As soon as your flats hit the dirt, Hazel began to tug you forward towards the bridge. Holding her hand so comfortably like this felt like breaking the rules. Excitingly breaking the rules.
The two of you approached the old bridge, the rickety wood squeaking underneath your footsteps. Hazel released your hand to place her hand on the beam that was separating you and Hazel from the water. You peer out at the water in awe.
“This is where my father would take me as a child if we weren’t training until my muscles ached.” Hazel admitted. “He said it reminded him of my mother.”
You furrowed your brows at her words, brushing your flyways out of your face.
“Your father has been a part of our kingdom for so long. He never mentioned you or your mother. Where is she?” You questioned softly.
Hazel sucked in a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with you. “She passed when she gave birth to me. I come here to think about her and how much my father would talk about her.”
Your heart ached at the thought of Hazel coming here alone when she was missing her mother. Knowing she has felt sadness and sorrow and had to deal with the ache of never knowing her mother that her father spoke highly about.
“Hazel,” you reach for her hand, rubbing your thumb over the back of her knuckles. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m sure your mother would be so proud of you and how great of a knight you’ve come to be.”
Hazel glanced down at your hand on hers, pulling it away slightly which caused you to pull away completely. You’re making her uncomfortable, you scold yourself.
“Thank you, princess,” Hazel gave her a quick smile before peering out into the water.
“Of course.”
A beat of silence falls over you before you speak up once again: “I’m sorry for the way I reacted in town. It was… immature of me to do.”
Hazel shook her head. “I could tell I had made you uncomfortable before. When I had asked you that, I meant… I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”
Your heart was trying to escape from your chest as you hesitantly asked: “How do you see me?”
You were leaning your back against the beam of the bridge, looking at her as you patiently waited for the answer. Before Hazel could even fathom answering, you hear a crack come from behind you. You fall backwards from the bridge as your body hits the cold water. You feel water flood into your ears and nose and suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. You knew how to swim, you were just overwhelmed and surprised by how easily that bridge broke.
How old was that bridge?
A few seconds passed and you hear another body hit the water. Two arms wrapped around your frame and you were being tugged through the water. You feel your head immerse from under and a cold breeze hits your cold face. You could hear Hazel panting and grunting as she frantically lifts you out of the water and back onto the land.
Your body felt weak as you could still feel water up your nose as you began to cough harshly, a slight burn bubbling in your throat. Hazel lifted you up and out of the water and laid you down onto the grass patch not too far from the bridge.
“Princess, are you hurt? C-Can you breathe?” Hazel patted the side of your wet cheek with her palm and pushed your soaked hair out of your face.
You groan softly as your coughing dies down.
“Talk to me, please.” Her tone was begging as her warm palms cupped the sides of your cool face.
You knew you should say something, anything but you can’t help but laugh. The laughter sort of spills out of you as you take in that you actually accidentally fell off of a bridge.
“Are you… laughing?” Hazel seethes as she removes her hands from your skin.
“I just— I fell off a bridge.” You express as you point to the now split piece of wood. “Into a lake.”
Hazel looks at you in disbelief. Your laughter dies down as you take in her very obviously infuriated with you. You sit up slowly to come face to face with her. Hazel backs up from you and stands to her feet.
“I think it’s time to head back to town to meet up with Isabel. The sun is going to set soon.” Hazel brushes off her grass-ridden wet clothing as much as she could.
“Hazel, it’s okay,” you begin before you realize why she may be angry. The bridge. Her father’s bridge. “If this is about the bridge, I’ll have someone come and fix it—“
“I think we should head back now, princess.”
You nod slowly as you stand on your feet, getting the hint that she wasn’t in the mood to talk right now. You had messed up. Why did you have to laugh? You thought this would fix the tension, not increase it.
You didn't even want to hold onto her out of fear that she wouldn’t allow you to. That is until you felt a hand grip onto yours and wrap around her torso as soon as you had hopped on.
The entire ride back to town was uncomfortable as you were both dripping from head to toe in lake water and Hazel had not spoken to you the entire way.
No check up. No ‘comfortable?’. Nothing but silence.
Once you two had arrived in town, there Isabel was at the entrance just as you had agreed on. Her eyes locked on your wet figures, her brows furrowed in worry.
“What happened?” Isabel asked in worry as she maneuvered her horse to walk beside Peanut.
“I fell into a lake. I’m okay.” You wave her off as you tilt your body to take a glance at Hazel.
She kept her gaze straight ahead, jaw locked tightly as she kept Peanut at a slow pace. Isabel’s eyes silently asked you why Hazel was so silent now. You, again, shake your head as you would explain to her later after you arrived back at the palace.
Isabel nodded at you before keeping her horse at a steady pace. You were dreading the conversation that was going to happen when you arrived at the palace.
What were you going to do?
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Hazel maneuvered Peanut to the stables, Isabel following. Hazel swung over and off the saddle as her soggy boots hit the gravel ground that was just outside the stables. You were a bit relieved to see her still holding her hand out to help your stability. You take her cold and damp hand into yours, glancing behind you at Isabel who was taking the horse back to his stable.
“Hazel, can we talk? In the garden, please?” You mutter softly.
Hazel released your hand as her eyes locked with yours. She was still angry but her brows relaxed as she nodded.
“Let me put Peanut back in his stable. It should only take a moment.” Hazel weakly grinned as she hooked her fingers onto the reins and led the horse back into the stables.
Just as she disappeared, Isabel came from the opposite side. She sped walked up to you with a worried expression.
“Is everything okay between you two? I thought you guys were friends.” Isabel questions softly, a hand taking yours.
“I don’t know. I’m going to try and make it better.” You tell her lowly, tilting your head to make sure Hazel wasn’t coming. “I’ll tell you more about it in the morning. Goodnight, Bel.”
Isabel nodded as she squeezed your hand three times: “Goodnight.”
Isabel walks past you and to the entrance of the palace, the knights there opening the doors for her. Hazel emerged from the stables, shutting the heavy doors behind her before motioning to the direction of the garden.
“After you,” Hazel said with a tight lipped smile.
You walk briskly to the garden, eager to get some privacy as you were itching to know why she was so angry with you. Hazel was right behind you, her footsteps and wet boots making an obnoxiously loud squeaking sound.
As soon as you walked through the stone archway, you turned to Hazel suddenly. She stopped in her tracks and looked at you with wide eyes.
“Why are you upset with me?” You question, hands clenched by your sides.
Hazel blinked at you: “what?”
“Don’t do that. I can tell, okay? You were being short with me and have ignored me the entire ride back, Hazel. I want to know why.” You express desperation and begging in your tone.
Hazel remained silent. Her mouth opened but no words left her mouth.
“I understand if you’re angry with me because I broke the bridge. It was an accident but I know it meant a lot to you. I will send someone out there to mend it first thing in the morning.” You rush out, walking towards the fountain.
“I was afraid.” Hazel mutters out.
If you hadn’t been so attentively listening, you would’ve missed it. You turn around sharply to face her. She had a pained look on her face and a hand on her hip.
“Afraid?” You question.
Hazel sucked in a deep breath and let out a shaky breath. “When you fell into the water, I never felt that amount of fear in my entire life. I thought that you had hit a rock and broken a leg or worse.”
“Hazel, I was okay. I am okay.” You express gently as you inched closer so that your faces were centimeters apart.
“Well, you couldn't have been. I’m supposed to be protecting you and if something were to happen to you, I wouldn’t…” She trailed off and licked her drying lips. Your eyes were pouring into hers as the moon light lit up the side of her face beautifully, highlighting her watery eyes. “I care about you, princess. I don’t think you understand how much.”
Your eyes flicker down to her lips and back up to her eyes.
“I asked you before I fell ‘how do you see me’, what were you going to say?” You whisper out as if you spoke at any higher volume it would ruin this moment.
“Princess,” Hazel whispers back with begging in her voice, squinting her eyes as if it pained her to look at you.
“Please tell me,” you reach for the side of her face shakily, hoping she won’t push you away.
Hazel’s hand found your wrist and squeezed gently, shaking her head. You lean forward as your noses brush against each other. Hazel nudges her nose against yours with a sigh.
So close.
“I can’t,” she mutters.
“Why?” You beg, running your thumb over the apple of her cheek.
Hazel’s eyes flickered from the top of your head to the bottom of your chin before releasing your wrist. She takes your face between her palms and pulls your lips against hers. You gasp against her mouth, letting go of her face out of shock.
She was kissing you.
The feeling of her lips only yours surged electricity up your spine and into your head. You froze completely as no one had ever kissed you before. Let alone a woman. Before you could kiss her back, Hazel pulled away quickly and stepped back a few feet from you.
“Princess, I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry. We can pretend like this never happened.” Hazel put her hands out, shaking her head in obvious distress.
“I can’t do that.” You whisper as you ghost your fingers over your flushed lips.
“Yes, we’ll just have to. It’s entirely unprofessional and something that—“
“—I want,” you finish her sentence as you inch towards her once again.
Hazel’s chest was heaving up and down as she tilted her head in confusion. You weren’t rejecting her; calling her disgusting or unnatural. You wanted this just as much as she did.
Hazel grabbed you by your arm and tugged your body into hers, locking your lips once again. She hummed against your lips as you followed her pace carefully. You wanted her to consume every part of you. This is what you had been wishing and aching for from the moment you met.
“Promise you won’t ignore me after this?” You whisper against her lips as you pull away.
Hazel huffed out a laugh with a shake of her head. Her hands were running up and down your almost completely dry dress. Your hands were tracing the bottom of her throat, wishing you could have every inch of her in your palms.
“I could never ignore my princess.”
You shyly avoid her gaze, a blush taking over your damp cheeks. Hazel gently pecked your lips once again before lifting your chin up with one hand.
“Your princess.” You state softly, adoring the title more than you ever imagined you could.
“In due time, I hope.” Hazel shrugs her shoulders, her smile growing.
“Would that make you my knight?” Your smile matches her own, tilting your chin down into her grasp.
Hazel traces your bottom lip with her thumb delicately: “if you so wish. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
“Will you join me in my room tonight?” You whisper breathlessly.
Hazel grinned at you, something familiar sparkling in her eyes before releasing your body from hers. You step back carefully, watching her every move like a hawk. Hazel’s eyes pointed toward the doors with raised brows, knowing you would understand.
You made your way past her towards the door with a pressed lip smile. Hazel was hot on your trail as the two of you entered the palace. You peer down both sides of the long hallways, not a single person in sight.
You grabbed her hand into yours with a devilish grin, tugging her along to follow you. She allowed herself to get dragged by you through the seemingly never ending halls of the palace. Your overjoyed laugh echoed down the halls as the adrenaline fled rushed through you.
Hazel shushed you gently but she, too, was giddy with joy. She just never thought it would be here with a princess; her princess.
Once the two of you approached your grand bedroom doors, you tugged the heavy doors open with Hazel with slight struggle. You entered your room with a soft sigh, shaking your head as you forced the doors shut. Hazel pushed you up against the hardwood with a soft thump as she kissed you once again, more eager for you. Your hands weaved into her hair with a shaky breath, arching into her hands.
“Princess, we’re going to have to head to bed soon. If I continue kissing you, I don’t think I’ll be able to resist you for much longer.” Hazel muttered against your lips.
You nod slowly, agreeing with her. You had a month to be with her like this. Four weeks time to enjoy every second of every day with her without disruption.
“There’s no rush,” you assure her, nudging her nose against yours with a sigh.
Hazel pecked your lips once before turning her head to look at your still unmade bed from the morning. It was strange to see but it felt more like a bedroom that you lived in than just a room in the palace.
Hazel grinned at you with a sigh.
“No rush.”
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