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thirteenfrogs · 2 months

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‘hot & heavy’ — leah williamson x reader

leah williamson x fem!reader

based on hot & heavy by lucy dacus !

italics are flashbacks

not proofread and idk if makes sense

so. many. words. (7.8k)

—

being back here makes me hot in the face

hot blood in my pulsing veins

england, you know, is home.

you associate that word with the country so often that it always surprises you that the dictionary definition of home isn't simply the polaroid of your house in milton keynes that you took when you were 8.

england is home even when you leave, and it's home when you come back after years away.

being back in england — specifically in milton keynes — makes your cheeks warm, and you're not sure whether it's the uncharacteristically hot sun or something deeper in the pit of your stomach that makes you all too aware of the hot blood in your pulsing veins.

heavy memories weighing on my brain

hot and heavy in the basement of your parents' place

your memories of milton keynes are varied — some are from your childhood, where you spent hours wishing on dandelions, kicking a ball around the neighbouring streets, and chasing the ice-cream van with a 50p coin you found in the gutter in the hopes of a screwball or a mr. whippy.

some memories are from your teenage years, where the bus ride to school was more entertaining than any parties your friends dragged you to in short dresses and the promise of a kiss from the good looking lad in the year above, no matter how much you insisted that you would much rather go to the cinema with your mates (and sneakily hold hands with your best friend).

few memories are from your adult years, when you decided to travel to neighbouring cities and spent hours exploring the intricacies of museum architecture and flirting to get free drinks in the new pub that opened around the corner from your secondary school.

every memory, though, includes her.

leah williamson — your childhood best friend, teenage love, and the reason why being back home feels both freeing and suffocating at the same time.

you used to be so sweet

leah used to pick flowers.

it was something that, more often than not, ended with you both being chased down the street by an angry neighbour who had fists in the air yelling that they were already on the phone to your mums and you would both be in for it when you got home.

it was always worth it, though, when after running so fast for so long you swear your legs could fall off, leah presents you with a fistful of whatever flowers were growing in that particular garden with some blades of grass and the roots still attached to the muddy bouquet. there would always be a dandelion, too, and the blonde girl would insist you make a wish just so she could pester you for hours after about what you had wished for.

and even when your mum does inevitably tell you off after the streetlights had come on and signalled your time to retreat home, the crumpled flowers you hold tight in your grasp remind you that tomorrow you'll do it all again, and the collection of wilted flowers on your windowsill will surely grow once more.

when she sees you again for the first time in almost 5 years, leah refrains from breaking into the nearest garden to steal you a flower and instead settles for a quick hug that feels more like home than any house she's ever lived in.

now you're a firecracker on a crowded street

couldn't look away even if i wanted

it’s merely a coincidence, you tell yourself, that your trip back home coincides with leah’s 26th birthday.

she invites you to a small get-together she’s having in london, and you try not to think about all the birthday traditions that have been broken in the years apart from your ex-best-friend. gone are the sleepovers you held the night before, gone are the parties your families had in your back-gardens, and gone are the shared slices of your favourite cakes.

get-togethers in hidden bars in london are new to you, but they seem familiar to leah and those she considers most important to her.

meeting up with her teammates and friends is a bittersweet experience, and you try not to think about how the leah they’re celebrating is wildly different to the leah you’re celebrating.

you look at the blonde and see the girl you once considered your better half, your extra limb, and they simply see the woman she is today.

leah’s the same as she always was, you notice from your seat at the bar, as she attracts the attention from the entire room without even trying. she’s still the same leah that was a thousand times more popular than you, and she’s still the same leah that never seemed to notice the hold she had on others.

you watch the way her eyes light up when she’s had a drink, and it takes you back to bonfire night when you were 7. when leah first held a sparkler on your crowded street, and her immediate thought was to try and cast a spell on you, giggling like a madman when you throw yourself to the floor like you had been struck.

you think the sparkle in her eyes is still there, and you pretend not to notice the way it brightens when she catches sight of you watching her. you couldn’t look away even if you wanted, and it takes a tap to your shoulder to snap you out of your leah-induced haze.

“kei!” you throw your arms around the ginger in a warm hug, and she responds back eagerly.

“hi, y/n/n, it’s so good to see you again.” keira smiles, squeezing your shoulders gently.

“it’s been a while.” you agree, letting her take the seat next to you.

you find yourself sticking with keira and other familiar faces, such alex and georgia, for a lot of the night — getting tipsy as you reminisce on shared memories and anecdotes about a certain blonde who was drunkenly serenading the entire bar.

at one point, it’s just you and keira, both equally drunk as you laugh about that time leah fell off a swing and was convinced that a ghost had pushed her.

“she was mad — still is, i think.” keira grins, glancing over to leah as she dances around the room.

“it’s a wonder i survived so long.” you agree, a smile on your flushed cheeks.

“i always thought you were it for each other, you know.” keira muses quietly, glancing between you and leah across the room.

“me too.” you take a large gulp of whatever drink georgia had forced into your hand 5 minutes prior.

“i still do.” you glance up at her in confusion, but keira’s slightly slurred words continue, “i know i’m drunk, and i know you are too, but i really think you shouldn't give up on her. she never gave up on you, not really.” at your silence, keira backtracks slightly, wincing at her own drunken word-vomit. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have- i know you're happy in spain now, i didn't mean to bring up old-"

"i’m moving back to london soon.”

and with that, you make your way to the bar to order another drink, eyes drifting around the room and automatically landing on the woman of the hour, who takes that as her cue to stumble over for the first time that night.

“dandelion! i didn’t think you were coming!” she shouts over the song that you know was once her favourite, wrapping her arm over your shoulder and squeezing you close in a once-familiar embrace.

“neither did i.” you admit quietly, never one to be able to lie to her.

“i’m glad you did, now we can sing our song!”

“no karaoke-“

“yes karaoke!”

and like no time had passed at all since you were leah and y/n, the blonde leads you to the small stage with a firm hand.

“one song, and then i’m sitting back down.” you say firmly, and leah simply grins, pushing a piece of hair out of your face as gently as she can with her clumsy hands.

“that’s my shy girl.” she coos as she pinches your cheek teasingly, and you simply roll your eyes. "you never were one for the stage, were you, dandelion?"

try to walk away but i come back to the start

led me to the floor even though i'm not a dancer

the night before your year 11 prom was spent in leah's bed — which was practically yours too with how much time you spent there growing up — laying side by side and staring at the ceiling as if the answer to why your cheeks were so warm was written above the bed.

"what if someone asks me to dance?" it's the first question you ask that betrays how nervous you really are for the upcoming event, and leah scoffs in response.

"tell them to shove off because you've already got a dance partner." the answer is so leah that you have to take a moment to roll your eyes, and because she apparently has eyes on the side of her head, she kicks you for it.

"i don't suppose that dance partner is you, is it?" you tease lightly, bumping your shoulder with hers and watching expectantly for her rebuttal.

"who else would it be?" she turns to look at you, blue eyes searching your face for the answer she knows she'll never get.

because the answer is nobody. there's not a single other person on planet earth you would trust to dance with you, and since there aren't any martians visiting any time soon, you'll stick with leah.

and stick with leah you do.

you're attached to her side when your mums take as many pictures as their cameras can physically hold, leah's hand settled on your waist and your head leaned against her shoulder as you stand outside your house. you pretend the blush on your cheeks is from the never-ending compliments from your families and the warm sun, and not the way that your best friend squeezes your hip gently to remind you pay attention to the cameras and not her.

you remain within arm's length of leah the entire night except for the 2 minutes that she disappeared to fetch you a drink that she knew you would need in the warm room, and even then she had tried to take you with her.

your interlocked pinky fingers keep you close as you make your way around the room, mindlessly chatting to your classmates.

you didn’t go near the dance floor, though, no matter how often leah tried to drag to towards it. you had made your opinions on dancing very clear and leah swore if that she heard the words “i’d rather die” come out of your mouth again then she’d kill you herself.

instead, the pair of you mingle with all of your friends and poke fun at the teachers’ outfits as they supervise the room with eagle eyes, though the blonde never lets up in her begging for a dance.

“come on, dandelion, just dance with me? please?” the pout on leah’s face is one you’ve seen many times in your decade of friendship, and not once have you ever had the heart to deny it.

“lee,” you whine, feeling your resolve crumble further when she steps closer. “i’m not a dancer. i don’t dance.”

“i do! i’ll show you how to do it.” she looks down at you with her most pleading expression, “please?”

“i’ll look-“

“you won’t look stupid, and don’t even think about suggesting it again.” she squeezes your pinky gently with her own, and you know you’re gone. “if anyone says anything, i’ll kick ‘em right in the face with these stupid heels — and that’s a promise!” you bite your lip hesitantly with a smile and leah presses further, “come on, y/n/n, please? don’t make me beg in-front of everyone here.”

“…fine. one dance.”

“that’s all i need, my girl.”

with leah’s hand in your own, you don’t feel nearly as nervous as you would’ve normally, and she leads you to the floor where you spend the rest of the night.

you find that you don’t hate dancing so much when leah’s your partner.

ask me all the questions that your parents wouldn't answer

"did you know that olivia in your geography class has two mums?”

it’s a tuesday night and leah’s in your bed. you’re 15 and there’s not much to do on a school night other than talk about whatever comes to mind. leah’s the first, tonight, and you wonder if she’ll finally let slip the reason she’s been deep in thought all day.

“really? she’s never mentioned it before.” you shrug, unsure of where your best friend is going with the conversation. “i guess she wouldn’t have a reason to, would she?”

leah bites her lip, clearly deep in thought. you have half a mind to tell her not to think so hard or her head will hurt, but you refrain.

“hey, what’s up?” you poke her cheek gently, hoping to snap her out of whatever headspace she was in. “you a homophobe or something? because i’ll have you know my cousin’s gay and-“

“i’m not a homophobe, you dick!” leah shoves you with a huff, and you grin at your success. “i’m just curious!”

“bi-curious or just curious?” you tilt your head, knowing it would only annoy her further.

“dandelion, i’m getting annoyed here.” she warns, glaring at you as best as she can with her 16-year-old baby face. “i’m just-“ she sighs, flopping back down on your bed. “do you think it’s…okay?”

“for?” you ask, laying down beside her.

“for two girls to…y’know, have a baby? get married?”

“i don’t see why it wouldn’t be okay?”

“i don’t see why either, but…” leah glares up at the ceiling. “when you think of getting married, what do you think of?”

you blink at the slight change of subject, but conversations with your best friend often go from topic to topic, so you shrug and answer honestly.

“cake- ow, leah! don’t hit me!”

“be serious for once!”

“i’m trying!” you huff, rubbing your shoulder from where she had so kindly elbowed you. “okay, when i think of getting married i think…a white dress, and some nice flowers. i think about songs i’d like to have play too. and cake.”

“what about who you’re marrying?”

“i don’t know, i never think of that.” you shrug, wondering what leah was getting at.

“well isla in our form class is convinced she’s going to marry jack, and she says she imagines it all the time. do you?”

“do i imagine marrying jack? god, no.” you snort at the idea. “he picks his nose still, did you know that?”

“y/n! be serious!” leah groans.

“stop beating around the bush and ask me what you really want to ask, then!” you huff, kicking her shin.

there’s silence for a moment, and you risk a glance towards the blonde.

she’s already looking at you — blue eyes piercing yours. “…do you ever think of marrying a girl?”

you roll over to your side and look back at her, eyes roaming over her freckled face that seemed awfully troubled for a simple tuesday night.

you shrug, “i dreamt i married lucy liu once, but i think that was because i fell asleep watching charlie’s angels.”

“was it…did it feel weird?” she furrows her brows the way she always does, and you reach out and press your thumb between them to remind her to stop.

“no, it was nice until she went all bridezilla on my dad. i can’t remember why, though. think he said her dress was ugly or something.” you remove your hand from leah’s face, but it doesn’t go far because the blonde reaches up and intertwines your pinkies and lays your hands on the pillow between your faces.

“i’d go bridezilla on him too. just for fun, though.” leah nods thoughtfully.

“and that’s why i wouldn’t marry you.” you roll your eyes, squeezing her finger.

“no? not even if i proposed with a million dandelions?” she asks with a smug smile, and you grin as she finally seems to relax.

“hmm…if you did that and got me a pretty ring, i wouldn’t say no.” you nod.

“the haribo ones aren’t good enough for you anymore?” she smiles, her eyes flickering between your own and your lips.

“diamonds are a girl’s best friend, lee. you gotta know that if you’re ever gonna propose to someone.” you poke her nose gently with your spare hand, and she grabs it with a gentle squeeze.

“i’ll keep it in mind.”

how could i deny a diamond in the rough?

it was awfully cliché, and you're aware of that, but leah had insisted that it was a rite of passage to play dancing queen on your 17th birthday, and so you allow the blonde to twirl you to her heart's content as the lyrics blare through your house. she sings along as she always does, never one to shy away from showing her passion for music and love for singing.

your families are scattered around the house and the back garden — leah’s grandmother playing scrabble with your aunt at the kitchen table, jacob kicking a football outside with your cousins, and both your’s and leah’s mums gossiping over a glass of wine while your dads manned the barbecue on the deck. to anyone else, this wouldn’t be considered a very good 17th birthday celebration, but to you it was perfect.

your other friends don’t understand that this is how you’d rather spend your birthday over getting drunk in a field (though, you weren’t opposed to that every now and then), and so it’s only leah who you spend the evening with, singing, dancing, and drinking as much as your families allow.

when it’s time to blow out your candles, it’s leah who stands beside you with a soft smile as your families sing the song you hate so much. it’s leah who presses a kiss to your cheek and tells you to close your eyes and make wish.

‘i wish it could always be like this.’

you open your eyes as watch as the smoke rises to ceiling, blushing as everyone cheers and claps, and giggling when jacob begs for the cake to be cut already.

“what did you wish for?” leah asks quietly, eyes solely on you as you watch your dad carry the cake over to the counter.

“you’ve asked me that almost everyday since we were 6, lee.” you chuckle, leaning into the arm she has around your waist. “and i’ve never once told you.”

“i was hoping today would be different.” she pouts dramatically, “but, alas, my dandelion keeps her secrets.” the hand she places over her heart makes you roll your eyes fondly, and leah simply continues her theatrics for as long as she can before getting distracted with a slice of cake — typical.

you can’t help but feel like today is different, though. maybe it’s just because your head feels a little fuzzy from the beers your dad had allowed you to have, or maybe it’s because leah’s arm had been wrapped around your waist all day and you wonder how you’ll cope if she never does it again. either way, there’s something in the air that evening, and you feel it close in on you when leah shoves a piece of cake in your face, smearing icing across your cheeks with a laugh so loud, you wonder if you’ll go deaf.

you freeze in shock when it happens, and even though you can see everyone in the room cracking up, it’s leah’s laugh that captures your attention, and it’s her smile that you want to shove a piece of cake into.

so you do.

war is declared that night, and despite your mum’s protests about getting food everywhere, you and leah find yourselves in a cake fight that resembles the great snowball war of ‘05.

your cousins and jacob join in, like all children do, and you can hear your dad placing bets on who’ll be the first to tap out, but your attention is solely on your best friend and how stupidly beautiful she looks when she laughs. you don’t know anyone in the world who could pull off a cake-smeared face so well, but leah seems to do it in a way that has your heart beating faster with more than just adrenaline as you run around the kitchen with cake in your fists.

you know you’ll regret this all when you have to clean up later, and you know your hair will never forgive you for the amount of chocolate in it, but in those moments where cake is flying across the kitchen and out the back door, you know you’ll be okay.

eventually, your mum puts a stop to it all and orders your dad to hose you all off in the garden (something he takes sadistic pleasure in as you all scream and run away from the ice-cold water, leah even using your dog as a shield while you used her), and your aunt ends up taking your cousins home before they could catch a cold.

people start to leave slowly, giving you one last birthday wish and a kiss to the head, until finally it’s just you, leah, and your parents.

your mum sends you both upstairs with a reminder not to stay up too late gossiping like always, and you and leah simply share a look before running up the stairs and attempting to push one another down them.

after you take turns showering and changing into some pyjamas, you both settle on your bed with the lord of the rings trilogy lined up for the 4th time that month, just because it was leah’s favourite.

“that’s you.” you point to the screen where gollum currently is, like you always do, and leah smacks a pillow down on your face, like she always does. “that never gets old.” you grin.

“it never gets funny.” the blonde huffs, stealing popcorn out of your hand instead from the bowl like a civilised person. “one day that mouth of yours will get you in trouble, dandelion.”

“is that a threat?”

“it’s a promise.” she nudges your shoulder with her own. “and i’ll have you know i look nothing like gollum; i’m far more beautiful.”

“that’s not a very nice thing to say about your twin, leah.” you shake your head disapprovingly, and leah scoffs.

“that’s it!” and before you can even begin to comprehend what’s happening, leah’s attacking you.

the pillow that was once behind her head is now in her hands as she swings it down on your face, and you barely have time to react before it comes down again. leah’s laugh is loud as you squeal, trying to escape her wrath to no avail.

“i surrender!” you finally shout after far too long, and leah grins triumphantly from her place above you.

your breathing is heavy, and your cheeks are warm, but leah’s eyes are comforting. they don’t hold your gaze like usual, and instead they glance down to your parted lips with an unrecognisable expression.

“you surrender?” she double checks, holding the pillow threateningly.

you nod, trying to catching your breath.

“and you won’t say anything else about my appearance?”

“my lips are sealed.” you nod, watching as leah drops the pillow

“i can’t think of anything clever to say about your mouth,” she says, brushing some of your hair out of your face gently, “i just…”

you hold your breath as leah leans in close, lips brushing against yours, tentatively, for the first time.

you think about the first time leah ever kissed you when you were 6. when you had just learned how to ride your bike and in your excitement to show your best friend, you stopped looking where you were going. you had hit the curb and flown over the handlebars and onto the pavement. it was leah who pulled you up to your feet, and it was her who pressed a magic kiss to your grazed palm to stop your tears.

you remember thinking it was best magic kiss you had ever gotten, because it worked in taking away like the pain like all magic kisses too.

now, though, you know it pales in comparison to this.

you don’t think anything could ever live up to feeling of leah’s soft lips on yours, and her gentle hold on your jaw. nothing will ever compare to the way she slowly pulls away, smiles at you, and then pulls you back in for another.

you led me in your world until you had enough

the day after your kiss with leah, you find that she’s nowhere to be found.

you don’t wake up to leah’s arms wrapped around you like you usually do after a sleepover, and a quick look around your house tells you that leah’s not downstairs critiquing your mum’s pancakes like usual either. your dog sits at the front door whining in the way he only does when he misses your best friend, and you wonder why leah left so early and where she could have possibly gone.

you find that as the day goes on, your worry for leah increases. she hasn't responded to — or even read — the numerous texts you've sent, and even jacob had simply shrugged his shoulders when you asked where she could be.

you're pretty much moments away from reporting her as missing when you hear her familiar laugh in the park near your house. you wonder if you've gone crazy enough to start hearing things, but once glance out your bedroom window confirms that leah is, in fact, at the park. she's kicking a ball around with some girls you recognise as her friends from football, and you wonder why she hasn't invited you like she normally does.

despite every cell and fibre in your body telling you to close your window and pretend you never saw her, you find yourself clipping the lead onto your dog's collar and walking him across the road like you had a reason to be there apart from confronting your stubborn best friend on why she had seemingly disappeared all day.

leah doesn’t notice you — if she does, she ignores you — as you approach, your dog tugging the lead with the insane strength that only appears whenever he sees leah.

“hey, y/n!” one of leah’s friends waves, and that’s when the blonde finally looks your way.

leah reluctantly kicks the ball away, sending her friends chasing after it, and turns to you with an air of coldness that you had never been on the receiving end of before.

“haven’t see you all day,” you remark casually, ignoring the way she rolls her eyes dismissively. “is everything okay?”

“yeah, fine.” leah shrugs, patting your dog’s head lightly as he happily licks her hand.

“oh.” you’re not really sure what to say after that. you watch her for a moment, taking notice of the way she avoids your gaze. “did you want to talk about-“

“look, i’m really sorry but my coach says i don’t need any distractions. can you leave me alone?”

with that, your best friend (?) walks away, leaving you standing there in confusion.

“coach says i don’t need distractions.”

you wonder if leah sees you as a distraction, or simply just the kiss. you hope it’s neither, but the way she seems to avoid you like the plague for weeks after your conversation tells you it’s probably both. she spends all her time with football, and even in school she seems to find a way to distance herself.

and so you see less of your best friend as her passion for football grows, and you feel selfish when you find yourself missing her.

you don’t understand why you can’t just be happy for her, but a part of you deep down knows that it’s because you don’t want her to be happy without you.

she is, though. and that hurts more than anything. leah seems perfectly fine to spend all her time with her football friends, and you find that your late night talks have been replaced with an occasional text asking about homework that never leads to anything more than a 1 minute conversation.

leah doesn’t call anymore, and so you don’t either. she doesn’t knock on your door and beg you to come out, so you take the long way around town to avoid her house.

you still attend her matches — because no matter how upset you are at her, she’s still your best friend and you’d always support her — but she doesn’t run to you at the end of the games anymore, instead she sticks close to her teammates and barely glances in your direction.

drifting away from leah is a slow process, and yet you feel completely blindsided because one minute she was your leah, and the next it felt like you barely knew her at all.

you knew that i wanted you to bend the rules

how did i believe i had a hold on you?

losing leah feels like losing a part of yourself, and you hate that it’s because, technically, you are.

you had always been leah and y/n.

when one of you wasn’t in school, teachers would ask the other where your other half was. when your mum made dinner every evening, there was always enough for another plate because she knew that your best friend would be there whether she was invited or not. when leah’s mum booked that family holiday to spain in 2008, there was an extra ticket with your name on it because she would never dream of separating leah from her y/n. you would never find one without the other, and that’s the way it always had been.

leah and y/n.

you don’t know how to just be y/n.

you find yourself looking to your side to tell her a funny thought that popped in your head, only to be met with nothing because leah’s not around anymore.

your parents don’t understand when you tell them you’ve simply grown apart, and neither do you, because ‘growing apart’ wasn’t in the cards for leah and y/n.

leah and y/n were supposed to stay together until the very end, even when the street lights turned off. leah and y/n were meant to stand by each other’s side, even when you were being lectured for stealing dandelions from mr. miller’s garden. leah and y/n were forever and always, like you had promised when you were 7.

but you’re not 7 anymore, and leah hadn’t given you a dandelion in so long, you wonder if you still know how to make a wish.

you were stupid to think you were ever important to leah. how did you believe you had a hold on her?

you were always stronger than people suspected

underestimated and overprotected

you knew that leah joining the senior squad for arsenal was inevitable — she was an amazing player with passion for the game and a love for arsenal that could rival even the biggest gooners.

it doesn’t surprise you at all to hear through the grapevine about leah’s permanent move to london, but you think that fate isn’t on your side when you find out she lives close to your new london flat that you share with your friends from university.

you’re just grateful that your busy school schedule and leah’s packed football life means no accidental meetings in the big city.

except it does. because of course it does.

you think maybe it's because your body had been accustomed to being near leah your entire life that it seeks her out even when you know it shouldn't. you think that must be why you always seem to bump into her no matter where you go.

it certainly doesn't help that you can't resist attending her matches too. call it routine, or simply call it love, but you don't think there's a single world where you wouldn't support the girl you once considered your best friend. watching leah play football had been a staple in your life for as long as you can remember, and there had been too much change in your life for you to ever consider giving this comfort up.

you pretend you don’t notice the way her eyes always seem to find your figure in the mostly-empty stands, and you always make sure to wear a jacket over your williamson jersey just so she doesn’t know that she’s the only reason you’re still there when everyone else goes home.

after a particularly good match, a few months into the season, leah finally picks up the courage to approach you. it had been months of longing stares from the pitch, showing off whenever she was near your section, and trying to catch your eye at the end of a match, and leah was now finally ready to speak to you.

properly. for the first time since she decided to be a coward almost a year ago and tell you you were a distraction instead of saying the truth.

the truth was that she loved you.

leah had loved you for as long as she could remember, and she was sure that she’d love you for the rest of her life.

the only thing to do now was ensure that you’d actually be in her life, so she could love you up close again.

it’s after a pretty intense match that leah finally had enough to confidence to approach you (after a few words of encouragement from alex, of course). you were sat in the stands, talking animatedly with another girl about the game.

leah swallows the brief feeling of jealousy, and walks towards your seat. you look up almost immediately, like you can sense her, and your expression doesn’t change. you pull your jacket tighter over your body, and leah catches sight of the red jersey beneath.

she hopes it’s her last name across your back.

“big fan?” leah nods towards your jersey as she leans over the barriers slightly, her voice surprisingly not giving away the nerves she was feeling at being face-to-face with you again after so long.

“oh, absolutely,” you agree, your voice dripping with the sarcasm that she knows too well, “i just love vicky losada.”

leah scoffs, “you’re wearing #6, really? let me see.” she gestures for you to take your jacket off, and you shake your head.

“6 my favourite number.” you shrug.

“14 is better.” she taps the #14 on her shorts pointedly.

“ever so humble, williamson.”

“you know me well, dandelion.” the nickname falls from her lips as easily as it used to, as if no time had passed at all since the last time she said it.

like you were still leah and y/n.

she seems to think so too, because leah grabs her own jersey and pulls it over her head. “here,” she says, holding it out to you, “it’s not a #6, but one day it will be. for you.”

you hesitantly take the warm jersey, “i’ll hold you to that.”

“wait, let me sign it.” leah grabs a sharpie that someone had left in the seat beside you and you hold the jersey out for her, trying to keep your eyes solely on her hands and not anywhere else. “there.”

“how much do you think this would go for on ebay?” you ask, folding the jersey and tucking it under your arm.

“not funny.” leah frowns, the familiar crease forming between her eyebrows. “you have to keep that.”

“we’ll see.” you grin, waving goodbye as you step back.

“see you next week.” leah waves, watching you go.

it’s only when you get home do you realise what she’s written on the jersey.

‘call me?’ with her phone number attached.

your roommate wonders what has you smiling so widely for the rest of the evening.

—

things with leah don't go back to how they were — you doubt they ever will — but the new normal, you find, isn't so bad either. it definitely helped that leah had offered a sincere apology for what she had said and how she had been acting with a collection of your favourite snacks, your favourite movie, and a dandelion she had insisted you use to make a wish about her embarassing herself at her next match — which she seemed to think she deserved for how she had treated you.

you don't bother telling her that when you close your eyes and blow on the flower, you only wish for the best for her, like you always have.

you want the best for leah, and a part of you deep down knows that you don’t fit into that idea anymore.

you cherish the time you spend with your once-best friend, and you let her cart you around london with her teammates for months before you break the news that you’re leaving for good.

when i went away it was the only option

couldn't trust myself to proceed with caution

the job offer comes at the perfect time. if you didn’t know better, you’d probably say it was divine intervention or the years of dandelion wishes catching up to you and granting you this once and for all.

either way, you don’t dwell on what causes your boss to offer you a position in spain, you simply give a grateful smile and ask when you can start.

you try not to think about the fact that spain reminds you of leah — of that family holiday you were invited to back when you were 9. you try not to think of the hours you spent playing mermaids in the pool and getting sunburned while eating as much food as your little bodies could handle.

you think you’d be able to find a connection to leah no matter where in the world you are.

every time you walk past a group of children playing football, you’re taken back the hours of running around fields with your blonde best friend as she dribbled past you like you weren’t even there — and then letting you take the ball back moments later because she felt bad.

every time you go grocery shopping, your brain subconsciously reminds you which foods leah does and doesn’t like, as if she’ll be popping around for tea like you live on the same street again and not in a whole different country.

leah didn’t take that easily, either — the fact that you wouldn’t be within in walking distance of her anymore.

you remember the way her eyes shined with tears when you showed her your transfer email. you remember the way she begged you stay, insisting that the better pay and higher position wouldn’t matter if you moved in together. she promised she would take care of bills, and that all you’d have to do is stay.

she didn’t understand that it wasn’t like how it used to be.

leah wasn’t the sun. not anymore. your life had to revolve around something else now.

spain is quite sunny, anyway. you’re sure you’ll find something new.

the most that i could give to you was nothing at all

the best that i could offer was to miss your calls

you settle into your new home quickly, and when you ignore the constant ache in your chest, you find that spain makes you quite happy.

leah calls more than she did when you were in london, and you find yourself purposely ignoring them for the sake of letting her down easily. you lived in spain now, and leah lived in london. it just wouldn’t work.

you wish you were a big enough person to pick up the phone, but you knew that the second you hear her voice again, you’d be back to square one.

the most that you can give is nothing at all.

try to walk away but i come back to the start

and it happens over and over and over and over again

over and over and over and over again

i wish i was over it, over it, over it, over it

even in spain, you think of leah.

you always think of leah.

you watch her games whenever you can — both for england and for arsenal. you buy a williamson #6 jersey when she changes her number and you wear it proudly whenever you sit in front of the tv and watch her play the game you had become so accustomed to.

the signed jersey from all those years ago is the one you wear to sleep. leah’s message has long since faded, and it doesn’t smell like her anymore, but the comfort it brings is the same as it always was.

every birthday, you find yourself staring at the candles wondering what you should wish for. back when you had leah everything, you could always come up with something new to wish for. now, though, you don’t know. there’s only one thing you want, and you can’t have her it. when you close your eyes, the warmth of the candles in front of your face uncomfortably familiar, you only see images of leah. you see her smiling, laughing, and playing.

you wish for her happiness.

you’re not sure what that means for you.

a hidden gem, my own goldmine

you had the wide and wild eyes

leah isn’t just your favourite footballer anymore.

she’s an inspiration to thousands of people, one of the best in her field, and you know deep down that you’ve done the right thing by leaving.

she’s doing everything she ever wanted, what does it matter if she’s not doing it with you?

you’re sure she doesn’t miss you, anyway.

you pretend not to notice when leah views your instagram stories, and you act like it doesn’t make your ache to reach out to her.

but you can’t.

you were a secret to yourself

you couldn't keep from anyone else

now you're the biggest brightest flame

you are a fire that can’t be tamed

you're better than ever, but i knew you when

leah williamson, england captain. but you remember when she was simply leah, the girl with legs too long for her body and a smile too wide for someone in the middle getting told off for tracking mud into her mum's kitchen.

leah williamson, european champion. but you were there when she was just leah williamson, the teenager determined to prove herself and make her family proud.

you held her when she had a bad game, and you cheered on the sidelines when she played her first match as a gunner.

before she was anyone else, she was your best friend.

but...she had always been more than that, hadn't she?

she was always meant for more than you and your garden bouquets and your late night conversations.

she was always going to be more than that little street on milton keynes, and maybe you had always known that you were doomed for heartbreak.

leah williamson had never really been yours.

not even when you were 16, and she told you she liked you the way girls should like boys.

she wasn't yours when she tentatively pressed her lips against yours for the first time on your 17th birthday.

she wasn't even yours when she promised she was.

she had always been her own person, and you were simply the idiot on the sidelines with your arms open for whenever she felt like being someone else’s for a moment.

she had never been yours, but you had known since the day she first presented you with a stolen flower when you were 6 that you were hers.

leah wasn't yours, much like that dandelion wasn't really yours either. because she had ripped it from the ground outside mr. miller's house much like she had done to your heart when she told you that you were a distraction.

you’ve had a long time to get over leah, and an even longer time to find yourself outside of being her best friend. but either you simply don’t want to, or that birthday wish you made when you were turning 17 really did come true, because you find that leah’s the only person you want even after years apart. even after leah had broken your heart and failed to fix it, you still want her to hold you at the end of the night and tell you everything she thinks and feels, and you want nothing more than to listen to her voice and the steady beat of her heart and know that you’re home.

you think that maybe it’s not a bad thing to still want leah. maybe you can start over. you can be leah and y/n again.

it's bittersweet to see you again.

you spend most of your time home falling back into routine with leah, much like the one you had when you were 16.

and while the conversations no longer revolve around who of your classmates fancies who, or how badly you think you did on your recent exam, you feel the same warmth on your cheeks as you did when leah first held your hand so many years before.

your inside jokes still make you laugh harder than any comedy show you've been to, and leah's arm over your shoulder fits better than that tailored coat you got for your 21st birthday.

being back with leah feels right, and that terrifies you.

because it was wrong, wasn't it?

it was wrong to look at leah and see everything you could've had.

but when she catches your eye and glances down to your lips with pink cheeks, you think maybe you'll always be the girls in milton keynes, and maybe the flowers blooming the ground would belong to you once again.

the grin on her lips makes you hot in the face, hot blood in your pulsing veins.

heavy memories weigh on your brain as she presses her lips against yours like they were coming home, and you register her slide something soft into your palm as she kisses you.

reluctantly, you pull away with bated breath and open your hand, peering down curiously at what you now hold.

a dandelion.

“make a wish, y/n.”

you glance up at leah — your leah.

“i don’t think i need to.”

—

#woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #Spotify #arsenal wfc x reader #lionesses x reader #arsenal x reader

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scarletcomalies · 4 months

Text

soul bounds disentwined

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Part II, Part III

Word count: 5,546

Warnings: A little angsty, I guess? And ofc Reader having a crush on Billy's mom not knowing if it's reciprocated.

A/N: This is inspired in Halsey's music video "Colors", if you have watched it, you can see where this is gonna go...

A/N: For plot purposes, let’s suppose Infinity War and subsequent events never happened, and instead, after the Civil War, Wanda decided to quit her life as a superhero.

Wanda Maximoff hired you -a photographer who urgently needed a fresh start- to capture the dishes that would be featured in her second cookbook. Her son, Billy Maximoff, interfered with what you two could have developed. He had feelings for you, and well, you had feelings for his mother.

According to Forbes (2023), Wanda Maximoff secured the third position among the wealthiest chefs worldwide. She is a living proof that we are all capable of rewriting our own story, even after a lifetime shaped by external influences.

Simone Carlisle (Culinary Arts Teacher): Ah, Wanda Maximoff… (pauses) let me tell you, no one prepares you for that feeling, where you find out that you contributed your seed to the plants of successes that one of your students planted in the garden of her life.

Wanda Maximoff (Chef, restaurant chain owner, and television presenter): For as long as I can remember, my decisions were a cycle of revenge and redemption... don't get me wrong, I don't regret beating the shit out of some idiots (laughs), but, with the busy life I led, the only moment I could pause my life was while I was hiding in Scotland with my ex-boyfriend Vision. I had no one expecting anything from me, no one telling me what to do, where to go, it was like a puppy without an owner.

Vision (Avenger, Wanda Maximoff’s ex-partner): Dear, was it a journey. First, I remember that she watched YouTube videos to learn guitar. As soon as she woke up, she grabbed the instrument, and she wasn't satisfied until her fingers got numb. In a very short time, she caught the hang of it, and played for the first time in a small bar. No one knew who she was, and if they did, they probably didn't care. She was just a talented player keeping them entertained. Afterwards, band members fought over who would give her their contact first to join them. I thought that would be the beginning of a very successful music career, because from what I've read, international artists started that way.

Wanda Maximoff: I said, “Vision, I’m never doing this again”.

Vision: She kept practicing, playing in the solitude of her room, of course. It was a hobby-kind-of-passion, not the type of passion she would like to dedicate most of her life to. She went through many of those to realize that her main passion was under her nose all along.

Wanda Maximoff: The courage to join in culinary classes arose from desperation (chuckles), I used to prepare recipes at home, and I needed someone else's approval… it couldn't come from someone who didn't even eat in the first place! And so the beginning of my trayectory was paved by this amazing teacher, Simone Carlisle.

Simone Carlisle: The shy girl who during the intensive course kept her head down, sitting on the back corner, nervously playing with her rings while ignoring whispers and glances from other students, is now in a big framed picture, placed in the most visible spot so that everyone who enters my academy knows that I taught this legend. She made my small business a huge deal now (laughs).

Wanda Maximoff: I never imagined that I would have my own cookbook, television program, or chain of restaurants, let alone all three at the same time! At first, I was content with cooking in a restaurant and earning a decent living, but later, I thought about the possibility of creating a YouTube channel, which subsequently permitted me to finance the publication of my book. Building on the success of my book, the opportunity of my show emerged, which in turn allowed me to open my first restaurant, and ultimately expand it into a chain of restaurants. What I want to convey is that you must trust that the love for what you do is a powerful tool. Success is subjective, so pursue your own concept of it.

Amy Lee (Evanescence’s lead singer and songwriter): It was a hard day of work. I didn’t feel like cooking but I was looking for the homiest, most comforting food possible, and Wanda Maximoff made it a reality with her restaurant located just a few blocks near me. I told my bandmate, Emma, about this amazing food restaurant, she replied, "Oh, the owner has a YouTube channel and a show, you should watch it so that you don't overcook the spaghetti" (laughs). It has been a great help to me ever since, for those are creative but accessible recipes. Plus, it’s a nice touch that she uses her magic to manipulate ingredients and utensils, while making you laugh with her witty jokes. The best way to put it is; she makes you feel like it's a close and sweet friend who is teaching you. Her human and warm approach felt and still feels like a pat on the back.

Wanda Maximoff: My favorite singer since adolescence, Amy Lee, has said something about me that fills me with happiness every time I remember it. She helped me cope, I helped her cook. We're even now.

Vision: You see, Wanda's powers went from being a source of fear in the world to being the main reason why said fear stopped as well. An impressive understanding in her abilities, still doesn't make her an expert, as she can't prevent unexpected situations.

Wanda Maximoff: I was six months pregnant. In the blink of an eye… literally.

The latest legacy of the Maximoff family, twins Billy and Tommy, were effortlessly admitted to the New York University. The dean was left speechless, for their admission exam grades exceeded expectations.

Tony Stark (Avenger, Stark Industries): With Wanda, our initial connection was through business, the Avengers, you know? It wasn't until she asked me if I could offer her kids an internship at Stark Industries that we developed a closer bond, and man, were those kids geniuses!

Wanda Maximoff: Those kids... one day, they'll outgrow me (laughs). They were so eager to rush through life stages, and I thought, "You don't realize I would give everything to relive those joyful years," but I know better than to project my own frustrations on my sons.

Virginia "Pepper" Potts (Stark Industries): One day, I said goodbye to two fourteen-year-old boys. The next day, Happy informed me that some tall adults with raspy voices, claiming to be Billy and Tommy, wanted to come in. I immediately phoned Wanda, and she casually responded, "Oh, yeah, they can do that," as if maturing into college students overnight was a typical Tuesday occurrence for any teenager.

Thomas Maximoff, (Student at New York University, son of Wanda Maximoff): What can I say? (chuckles) school didn't present any intellectual challenges for us, and, yes, they do admit child prodigies for... PhDs even! But, we wanted to blend in, to share the same age as our classmates.

Wanda Maximoff: I always considered it a priority to spend time with my boys, so I put a lot of my work on hold, including my second cookbook project. Now that they're focusing on college and their internship, I've had too much time, and by that I mean too much time to finish that unfinished work.

Wanda Maximoff had completed her second cookbook, in response to numerous requests from her loyal fans. Another book that promised to aid all those who seeked a different, quick, and above all, delicious meal at any time of the day. There was no doubt that it would become a global bestseller, just like her previous one.

All that was left were the illustrative photographs for the book, and the studio where you worked at was in charge of this task.

You meticulously made the first dish she cooked appear as exquisite as in real life. You employed several tools like lighting, background elements, and cutlery placement, but you never altered the food in any way, it didn't even cross your mind to do so. This didn't sit well with your boss, but it certainly pleased the redhead.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) (Photographer): I remember my boss suggested that I add components to the food to make it look more appealing. I responded that that was the equivalent of encouraging unattainable stereotypes of beauty... in food (chuckles).

Wanda Maximoff: By offering unrealistic references, people would be discouraged to notice that their result was not the same as mine, not knowing that those references have hours of strategy to make it look 'aesthetic'. I prefer to show it as it is (pauses) I think that's why I liked this girl, I didn't have to say a word and she understood everything.

Your boss was the typical man who didn't let newcomers like you progress. Although you had been working in the studio for about six months, he never allowed you to touch a camera, which was contradictory because that was the job you applied for.

You did the work he didn't want to do, like transporting, positioning and removing the equipment, and setting up the scenery. That idiot just did the angles and clicked the top right button, and then took all the credit and praise. It annoyed you, yes, but unlike him, you didn't need praise from anyone to fill your ego, you just wanted to be acknowledged for your own efforts and not to be another person’s side kick.

In the meantime, it was enough satisfaction to know that none of the praise he gets would be possible without you, and he knew it…

… and Wanda knew it.

"What do you think, Miss Maximoff?" Your boss showed Wanda the array of photographs he took of the latest dish. He proudly displayed them, awaiting for a compliment from the redhead.

"Wow, (Y/N), placing the sautéed potatoes in a separate bowl instead of alongside the food within the same dish... you were right, it gives them their own protagonism and importance as a side dish," was the first thing she said, eliciting a small blush from you. "Great work!"

"Thank you, Miss Maximoff," after hearing her words, you experimented a feeling that was somewhat unfamiliar to you. It made you feel visible, truly seen and acknowledged in a workplace that often overlooked such things. And the fact that it came from her, made it all even more so profound.

"It's just Wanda," she corrected you, as if her previous actions weren't enough, she gave you the green light to address her in a more intimate manner. Along with that, your boss was already frustrated enough at not being the center of attention for two and a half hours. It was all a dream!

"(Y/N), we're done here, remove the equipment and take it to my car. I'll be waiting for you for just five minutes," your boss ordered you. Not even a ‘please’, nothing. In his gaze was evident that desperate attempt to look intimidating, which only made him look like a tantruming child. However, when his gaze turned to the older woman, he held an incredible admiration and appreciation, almost as if they were two different people in the same body. "Miss Maximoff, it was a pleasure working with you, truly an honor. We could continue next week...”

"Do you have equipment of your own, (Y/N)?" She interrupted him in mid-sentence, and you hesitated briefly.

"Uh... yes, of course, Miss... I mean, Wanda," you replied.

You worked as a freelance photographer in your spare time, capturing people or events here and there. It was something relatively stable, but it could not be your main income, so you felt the need to work on a studio.

"Perfect... I'll be contacting only you so we can work on the rest of the illustrations for the book," she stated.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N): I couldn't believe what I heard! The first thing I did was begging to whatever force there is that this wasn't a dream. It was overwhelming, the feeling of fear and ecstasy… Wanda wanted ME to work with her.

She recognized something in you within three and a half hours that others failed to see in six months. This was it. This was the big break you had been waiting for, the opportunity to show your skills and make your mark.

That being said, you never saw your boss, or stepped foot in that studio after that.

In the days that followed, you poured your heart and soul into preparing for the upcoming shoots.

You studied Wanda's previous cookbooks, familiarizing yourself with her style, her preferences. You even watched her program and her interviews, initially with the excuse of seeing those mesmerizing eyes and delighting yourself with her beauty, but you actually learned a lot of cooking techniques that you were excited to cook when it was such an annoying task for you to do.

When the day of the shoot finally arrived, you were ready. You set up your equipment with a confidence you had never felt before. You positioned the reflectors so that the natural light would bounce where you needed it, and set the scene to make the food appealing and motivating. Wanda watched you work, her eyes filled with admiration and respect.

You smiled at her as you turned on your camera, “So, what do you do with all this food after I photograph it?” You questioned curiously.

"I pack it, multiply it with my powers, and give it to the homeless," she explained. "It's something I often do, in fact, but I prefer to keep good deeds a secret, and not brag about it," she added. “I would appreciate it if you don’t say anything.”

"I figured that about you," you smiled sympathetically.

"You figured?"

“You have always used your skills to help," you elaborated, and noticed she slightly scrunched her nose, as a way of disagreeing. "Yes, even when you were working for Hydra, Tony Stark was destroying territories left and right, and you were seeking justice, doing what you felt was right," you added, noticing how her face showed an expression of realization. "And now, you focus on helping people who struggle with thinking of a simple but good meal in the midst of a hectic routine, and not so much on showing off how good you are at cooking exotic dishes. So yes, I assumed you would also help those who can't even afford a meal, too.”

Wanda's gaze was lost in the white marble of her kitchen floor, and you knew you gave her a new perspective on the wrongs she had done in her past. She meant well all along, and ultimately, that's what mattered. She was a great person in the present, and that's what mattered.

"So, you're the photographer in question," a tall, curly-haired guy stepped into the kitchen doorway, interrupting the train of thought of the woman in front of you.

You laughed at the expression on her face as reality hit her again.

"Oh, yes. Sweetheart, this is (Y/N)," she introduced you to who you already knew was her son. "And (Y/N), this is my son Billy."

"Nice to meet you, Billy," you replied, approaching him to offer your hand to shake.

"The pleasure is all mine," he emphasized the last words, as he accepted your hand. "My mom didn't mention that you were so beautiful."

Wanda cleared her throat, and proceeded to look at him with surprise in her eyes. In a I-can’t-believe-you-said-that way.

You couldn't help but laugh again at how expressive she was without noticing it.

But in their perspective, from how you looked the other direction and chuckled softly, you seemed to snicker at Billy's flattery, which couldn't be further from the truth. He was corny and predictable, but most importantly, he was not Wanda Maximoff.

"Oh, forgive him, he still doesn't know how to control those sky-high hormones," Wanda said, grabbing Billy's shoulders from behind to guide him out of the kitchen.

You noticed that she was already shorter than her son by a few centimetres. This was nostalgic for any mother, but how must Wanda have felt watching it happen overnight? You were curious.

"No problem," you replied, and headed for the counter to begin photographing.

Billy entered the kitchen again, standing next to you, but not close enough to invade your space, which you thanked internally.

"Do you mind if I watch you work, (Y/N)?" Billy requested, and you smiled politely.

"Billy! Don't you have an internship to go to?" Wanda interfered before you could answer.

"Pepper and Tony organized a party at the tower," he replied victoriously.

"College homework?"

"Piece of cake. I finished it an hour ago."

“How about you enjoy your free time and go bowling with your brother?”

“He’s busy playing Fortnite online,” he shrugged.

Wanda rolled her eyes, "Behave yourself. That's the only condition."

"It's okay, Wanda," you reassured her. Each stage in a child's life is gradual, and parents usually have many years to learn about what each stage entails. It was understandable that Wanda didn't know what to do now that her children were suddenly old enough to drink and get into adult trouble.

"So, (Y/N), how long ago did you start this whole photography gig?" The taller guy spoke up, once you took your first picture.

"I've been doing it since I was thirteen," you replied, still capturing the image in before you at different angles. "Dedicating myself to this? As soon as I turned eighteen. I had a decent portfolio."

"I don't doubt it," he agreed.

You gave him a slight thankful smile, and walked over to Wanda, who was setting up the second dish to be photographed.

"What do you think?"You asked her, and it wasn't until she turned to look at the camera that you noticed that this is the closest you've ever been to her. You could smell her fragrance and hear her breathing. Your mind was screaming at you to move away, for you had no right to display such trust yet, on the contrary, your body needed to be as close as possible... to feel her.

You had never touched her, not even when she greeted you this afternoon. She simply opened her door and let you enter.

"Excellent. The blueberries next to the gluten-free blueberry pancakes are wet,” she commented. “Did you do it to provide a sense of freshness?" She inquired, looking into your eyes this time, and... the charm of her green eyes was incomparable.

Throughout life, you've seen different shades of green, but hers were unique. They seemed to have a whole story to tell, as if she gave them that power. Her eyes glowed with an emerald hue that mesmerized anyone who met her gaze, and you were no exception.

“Exactly, that’s what I did,” you confirmed, and you felt your cheeks burning, which you immediately hid by looking down and walking back to the counter.

The only interactions you had with Wanda were to get her to approve your photographs, since her son didn’t allow you both a second to talk. He didn’t cease to ask you all sorts of questions, and to keep the conversation going, you responded with brief 'and you?'s so that he still felt heard and had the space to reveal details about himself.

It was all natural for you. Your work was also based on creating a liveliness in the environment where you performed, plus you got more genuine reactions from people if you made them laugh and feel comfortable. However, you always ended up talking with whoever was willing to, even if you were not there to capture them.

In fact, you were enjoying the conversation with such a charismatic guy. At first, it felt overwhelming, but just by letting the topics flow, you ended up laughing and feeling more at ease with him. In any case, you would be meeting him more than once in the eight weeks that remained before the project was completed.

Once you had finished photographing the ten dishes for the week, you turned off your camera and put it back in its case.

You were too happy with the results. This was all done by you alone, and you would be recognized for it. Never again would your boss's name appear under the pictures that were all your doing. The moment Wanda sends your photographs to the publisher, your name would appear in the book credits, and so a new story would begin.

And Wanda... oh, Wanda made it so clear that she loved your work, and paid so much attention to detail. Not only did she praise you, but she made it a point to let you know that she had indeed noticed the details that to the average eye would go unnoticed. You didn't know if you were really developing a crush, or if it was just the fact that she was an older woman that satisfied that need for attention that you rarely got... or it could be both.

When you were working on your own, you didn't feel exhausted and drained despite the long working hours, unlike when you were in the studio. You were very grateful that Wanda had given you another opportunity like that, and you were confident that it could become a regular thing.

"Wow, seeing all these dishes without having eaten lunch has really made me hungry," you laughed, proceeding to remove the reflectors from the kitchen’s window. The sky was still clear. You started at a perfect timing to take advantage of natural light.

"You haven't eaten? Look at the time! I thought you had eaten before you came!" She exclaimed. The redhead actually looked concerned. "Do you have any idea of the damage you're doing to your body? You need energy for this kind of work."

"Hey, I wanted to make a joke and you ruined it with your lecture," you protested.

Wanda sighed, and shook her head disapprovingly, which made your heart crumble a little.

“I… I’ll get some food on the way home,” you corrected yourself.

"How about you stay for dinner? I was going to make it, Tommy won't be long before he comes back to the real world and notices he's hungry," she offered kindly.

"Oh! Or I can take you out for dinner somewhere nice!" Billy proposed, smiling at you with anticipation.

To be brutally honest, you wanted to throw yourself at him and choke him so no other words would come out of his mouth. You knew Billy was just a guy with a silly crush, excited to show you how interested he was in you. He wasn't trying to do any harm. But, hell, wasn't it enough for him to be the center of your attention all afternoon?

"I'm really looking forward to trying something made by your mom," you declined in the politest way possible. "Many people would kill for that honor!"

Wanda let out a laugh, and her expression also seemed to change as she heard your decision to stay.

But, oh, Billy, Billy, Billy... as persevering as his mother.

"Awww! Next week she'll cook you something, right mom?" he insisted, and even though the redhead tried hard to keep her smile, her eyes changed.

"Sure, I'll cook whatever you want," Wanda sighed. "Go with Billy, and continue your conversation... alone," the way she said that last word was as if she had felt like the third wheel all afternoon, as if she was a hindrance to whatever was starting between you and Billy.

"You owe me," you said to Wanda, letting her know implicitly that you were looking forward to your meeting next week, not this dinner with Billy.

Billy led you to the garage of his house, and opened the passenger door of a black car. You thanked him politely and got in, allowing him to close the door for you. The car was completely spotless, and had a new car smell, but not because it was new, maybe because that was the fragrance he asked for at the car wash. For yours, you always opted for lavender… which made you wonder, what fragance did Wanda like for her car?

"Any preferences?" Billy asked once he hoped in the driver’s seat, pointing towards the car radio. It was noticeable he was doing his best to make this comfortable for you.

"A little bit of everything, how about rock like... Evanescence?" you proposed.

"Ah, my mom loves them," he commented, and your eyes lit up at that statement.

"You're kidding..."

"Yeah, since her teenage years," he confirmed. "Evanescence, In This Moment, Epica, Lacuna Coil..." he listed, trying to remember them all.

You made a mental note to put on that music on your next meeting with Wanda. It wouldn't be hard, as you loved all the bands he mentioned, which was wonderful.

You couldn't wait to show her the latest bands, ask her her favorite songs, and have a topic of conversation that would allow you to bound...

"So, ready?" he spoke, noticing that you were lost in thought.

"Yeah, sure," you nodded, putting on your seatbelt.

The dinner was... better than you expected. In fact, it was amazing.

You didn't really have anything in common with Billy, but the way you both listened to each other, and always found a middle ground despite going your separate ways, made the experience with him extremely pleasant.

The only difference was that, as you each went home, he thought about seeing you again, and you thought about seeing his mother again.

And so, after a week, you found yourself in front of the door of Wanda's house, with your camera hanging from your neck, your equipment already waiting on the pavement next to your parked car, and as a bonus, a speaker you brought along to play music while you worked.

Alone, at last...

When the door opened, you found the redhead wearing a casual outfit consisting of dark blue jeans and a black half-tucked in blouse. Oh, and her face, how you missed that face.

"Hey..." You greeted her, with palpable enthusiasm.

"Hi," she replied, and noticed the speaker in your hand, arching her eyebrow. "I found out last week that you and I have a lot of bands in common."

Wanda let out a gasp of surprise, "Oh, please do come in!"

You laughed briefly, and as you were about to enter your equipment to take it towards the kitchen, Wanda snapped her fingers, and it disappeared.

"Wanda, what the hell?" You exclaimed, looking at her with your widened eyes, had she just disappeared all your belongings?

"Relax, they're in the kitchen."

"That skill of yours would’ve come in handy last week too," you commented, walking into her house.

"It was fun watching you run in and out," she shrugged. "But today you earned it, because of the music."

"I see, I have to earn it?!" You exclaimed, feigning indignation. Really, she could have pulverized your expensive equipment in front of you, and you'd still thank her.

Once both of you entered the kitchen, your reflectors were already in the same position as always. And on the other side, the ten dishes were already hot and ready to be photographed.

"And what would I possibly have to do next week to earn that help from you?" you asked, resuming the topic you had discussed earlier.

"Mmmm..." she muttered, in a way that almost made you weak in the knees. She watched you from head to toe making you feel exposed to her as if she had ripped your clothes to shreds and left you standing there, naked and at her mercy. But you were still completely covered. "... I think you've earned it,” your reaction alone was enough reward to her.

“Thanks, I guess,” you cleared your throat.

You picked up the speaker, and turned it on, placing it in a place in the kitchen where it would not interfere. Your hands were shaking, and you could have sworn that Wanda was watching you with amusement, while you avoided her gaze at all costs.

You grabbed your phone, and played the playlist you had prepared for this moment. "A Star-Crossed Wasteland" by In This Moment was the first to come on.

"Oh, I love that song like you have no idea," Wanda exclaimed, closing her eyes and frowning as she passionately listened to that intro. "That album, in general..."

"It's in my top three," you commented.

"Hell yeah! Now we're talking!" She exclaimed, raising her hand offering you a high-five.

"I'm not that old school," you shook your head, chuckling.

Wanda rolled her eyes, and took your wrist, giving herself a high five with your hand.

"Good girl," she praised you, and you swallowed dryly. At the words, and at the fact that this was the first time you'd ever touched her. "What's your top three?" she asked, acting so nonchalantly after flustering the hell out of you.

“Tell me yours first,” you proposed. You couldn’t even think of your favorite three albums of one of your favorite bands.

"Black Widow, GODMODE, and A Star-Crossed Wasteland, she answered, almost without thinking. It amused you to imagine she'd spent her whole life for someone to ask her that question. "And yours?"

"Black Widow is my favorite, too," you agreed. "Blood, and A Star-Crossed Wasteland."

"Oh, two in common and in the same position," she pointed out, smiling. "If the new album hadn't been so good, it would agree with Blood, too…”

For the rest of the evening, the focus was on your favorite bands, as they played in the background.

You finished faster than last week, as Wanda was willing to use her powers for you to just arrange the background and take the pictures, instead of searching in every corner of the kitchen - you only had to ask, and it appeared.

“Alright, we're done...” she concluded, excited. “Now, let me pack this food and put it in the fridge,” and with a snap of her fingers, it was already packed and subsequently perfectly placed inside the fridge.

“Impressive,” you exclaimed, not ceasing to show your admiration, just like every time she used her powers. If you didn't look so cute, Wanda would have grown irritated at you a long time ago.

“Now, I owe you a dinner,” she said. She never told you, but she was so eager to finish quickly because that way, when her sons returned from the internship, you and her would have spent a significant time together.

The food Wanda made for you was... you didn’t even believe that the accurate word to describe it even existed.

The sensations you experimented had you mindlessly closing your eyes, trying to memorize this magnificent meal, absorbing it all in. You had tried a lot of different restaurants and foods, but none like this, oh they wished they were even close to what you tasted.

This was more than just eating. It was a demonstration of peak exquisite cuisine. This was about more than just sating hunger. It was about the delight of tasting food prepared with passion.

And... just as Wanda was leading you out of the door, you noticed that it opened, and you met who you knew was Tommy.

"Oh, finally I have the pleasure to meet the famous (Y/N)," was the first thing he said. So Wanda... "Billy hasn't shut up about you."

You forced a smile, "That's... nice," you hesitated. "I have a feeling he's going to be a great friend, and I hope you are too."

Tommy noted the intent of your response but decided to reply, "Of course," with a small chuckle. "In fact, you should come play tennis with us next Saturday."

"Oh, I don't know how to..."

"I'll teach you," Wanda quickly interjected, and that hope in her eyes made your decision easier in an instant.

"Well... will you send me the address?" I asked.

"Rest assured."

When you said goodbye to Wanda and Tommy, Billy was climbing the steps to the doorway, and he smiled broadly at you.

"Hi, (Y/N)!" He exclaimed happily. "Have you eaten yet? If not, we can go eat something and catch up."

Oh, how kind he was...

"Thank you, your mom and I already had dinner."

It was Saturday, and you were walking around the room in your apartment. Your best friend, Kate, was already starting to get dizzy.

"Kate! It's a country club!" You exclaimed, for probably the twentieth time. "People there probably eat pizza with silverware, and know the use of all ten thousand kinds of forks. I won't fit in..."

"It's just a tennis game! I'd understand if it was golf, but tennis?! You'll be fine!" She groaned.

"I look ridiculous..." you shook your head, looking at yourself in the mirror. "I mean, what is this cap? And why all white? Am I getting baptized or something?"

"Hey! Do you want to fit in? This is the outfit," she countered. "You look hot, surely Wanda will drool over you when she sees those legs," she cheered you up

"Surely it will be Billy," you sighed, disappointed.

"Wanda too, from what you've told me..."

"No, this is one of the situations where I'm misinterpreting a hint of validation from an older, beautiful woman," you quickly denied. "And as always, my best friend is encouraging my delusions."

"Really? Name one situation."

"That Italian woman who I photographed with her family for several Christmas sessions?"

"Ha! She looked at you funny."

"Yeah, that's why she turned down my invitation to dinner when I finally found the courage, saying I knew she had a husband and kids."

"Uhm... she refused just because she had a husband and kids, not because she didn't like you!" She quickly justified, and you couldn't help but laugh, forgetting for a moment the nerves that were eating at you.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wandavision #marvel

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fraugwinska · 6 months

Note

Since your requests are open… can I request Alastor taking care of his sick wife? The crew noticed their mia and Alastor slinks away to their hotel room to find them dying (metaphorically) in their nest of blankets?

Thank you ;—; I love your writing sm! ฅ(•ㅅ•)ฅ

Whew - that was a first for me :D Switching it up for a little Alastor POV ;> I hope you like it, lovely Anon! (P.S. - The song mentioned is 'Unforgettable' by Nat King Cole)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

In Sickness and in Health

Alastor's day couldn't get better – adding another, large territory to his nicely growing collection, visiting his dear friend Rosie along the way, and now returning to his diddy hotel, full of entertainment, and with his lovely wife waiting for his return: He was in a rightfully jolly mood.

He'd left so early in the morning, letting his love sleep in deep, heavy breaths, he was wondering what she had been up to this day? On the way back, he stopped by the florist, careful not to touch the delicate, burgundy blossoms of the chrysanthemums, her favourites.

He entered the hotel to find the residents deeply engaged in another of the princess's silly bonding activities – a game of charades, as it seemed. Alastor watched them with curiosity as Angel Dust gestured wildly, while the others screamed in chaos, throwing guesses his way.

„Fuck, man, come on! I'm making it OBVIOUS here!“, Angel moaned, throwing his hands frustrated into the air.

„The hell you are – you look like you're hurlin' yo' last drink like a garden sprinkler.“, Husk replies dryly, rubbing his temples, while the girls just look confused.

„It's fucking MOTORBOATING, jesus christ on a cracker!“

The group groans, exept for Vaggie, who runs over to him and grabs the card the flamboyant spider waves around.

„It's just 'Motorboat', you idiot.“ „Potayto, Potahto.“

Alastor, having heard enough of that nonsense, closed the entrance noisily. Charlies head whipped around to see him.

„Oh, hey Alastor, you're back early.“, she chirped, ignoring the still arguing group behind her. Alastor walked over and smiled down at her. „Business went better than I expected, dear. And you all are as... aspiring as ever, I see?“ He let his gaze fall back to the group, counting – five heads. Not six. „Would you happen to know where my darling doe is?“

Charlie blinked. „Umm.“, she turned to look at the group, as if she expected her to be there. Alastors eyes narrowed as the princess asked timidly if anyone had seen her.

„Nope, not me.“ „Didn't turn up on the bar, either.“ „She missed breakfast, too“ Alastor huffed, feeling anger bubbling up in his stomach at the blatant negligence of his companions. He left Charlie and the others standing without a word, looking rightfully guilty and shouting apologies at his back. He made a mental note to plan an appropriate response to this mishap, and fastened his steps to his suite.

He knocked on the door, softly. No response. He listened intensely. „My love, are you in there?“ A quiet groan, muffled through thick wood and creaking walls, barely audible.

He opened the door his eyes searching through the dimly lit room - the curtains of the windows were still closed, just like he left them this morning.

„Alastor?“, he heard your voice, weak and tired, from inside the pile of cushions, pillows and blankets piled up on the shared bed.

He quickly set the flowers down on the bureau before he peeled layers of fabric off the built fort to reveal his precious doe – face reddened, hair damp with sweat and deep, panting in straint breaths. Her eyes opened slowly, they were watery and dull.

„Hello...“, she said, a small smile on her dried lips. „Hello, my love.“, he answered, brushing her hair out her face with timid fingers – when they touched her forehead, it was burning hot. Alastor frowned.

„You are sick, my doe....“ She hummed in response. A shiver made her pull the blankets around her closer to her. „I think I'm dying again.“ Alastor chuckled softly, cupping her cheek - heat poured from her scorching skin into his cold palms.

„Always so dramatic. No love, you're certainly not dying. Boiling yourself, maybe. You have a raging fever, sweet thing.“

„Potayto, Potahto...“, she murmured. Alastor scrunched his nose – Angel Dust certainly had a bad influence on his wife.

„Now, now, no reason to call for the mortician, love. Let's get you out of these dampened clothes for a start, shall we?“

She whined from the coldness he exposed her to, grabbing his arms as he pulled her out of the many layers of fabric and peeled the sweat-drenched clothes from her burning body. Her usually smooth and tender skin was colored in angered flushes of read, mimicking the blazing temperature she radiated. While he worked on getting her in fresh, clean pajamas, he murmured soft reassurances and sweet words of comfort to her.

Alastor knew she hated the feeling of helplessness a sickness brought with it. Her demise had been sudden, painful and most importantly lonely, having no one by her side while the disease had eaten her alive.

He placed her back into bed, a snap of his fingers had disassembled the abhorrent nest she had built, linens clean, soft and dry. She whimpered when he opened the windows to let some fresh air into the room, but sighed in sweet relief when the cold cloth he conjured for her cooled her forehead.

“Can you play something for me?”, she whispered after he had convinced her to drink some water, her lids heavy and almost out of consciousness.

Alastor brushed her cheeks tenderly.

“Of course my treasured girl.”

He pulled the chair from his bureau next to the bed, settling down with her hand in his. He chose the song carefully – it was the one she and him first danced to, when he and her were two singulars still, instead of one plural.

The soft tunes of the celeste and piano drove the dreadful, deafening silence out of the room, and when Nat King Coles voice started to serenade, her face relaxed into a serene smile, breaths flattening into calm draws of air.

Alastor watched his wife drift into healing slumber, her skin color already fading into her more normal shade. Relieved, he stroked his thumb delicately over her fingers, still safely wound around his. Yes. Alastor knew she hated the helplessness a sickness brought with it. But at least, this time, he could be there to guide her through it.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #charlie morningstar #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel vaggie #fraugwinskawrites #quick fic

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lesmana-enterprise-ltd · 5 days

Text

The Griya Lesmana, Luxury Residence (NO CC)

The Griya Lesmana is a luxurious tropical modern mansion, valued at 1,2 million simoleons.

This exquisite residence seamlessly blends sleek contemporary design with intricate Indonesian cultural art. The home features expansive, open spaces that harmoniously connect the lush outdoors with the refined interiors, all while showcasing fine art that beautifully reflects rich heritage.

A masterpiece by The Lesmana Enterprise, this home exemplifies a perfect fusion of elegance and Tradition.

About Griya Lesmana

Welcome to Griya Lesmana, where modern elegance meets serene luxury. This breathtaking estate showcases a perfect blend of natural beauty and contemporary design, with lush greenery framing the sleek architecture. From the stunning pool area in the back facade to the peaceful study space inside, every corner of this home exudes sophistication and tranquility. It’s a haven of peace and a true reflection of timeless style in Del Sol Valley

Make Your Way In

Step inside Griya Lesmana and immerse yourself in a world of contemporary art and warm, earthy tones. Each piece in the home has been carefully selected to evoke a sense of culture and elegance, such as the Garuda Dwi Kencana (1977) by Oktaviano Sudarmadji and Gamelan (1960) by I Wayan Sudana. These art pieces, along with the striking Legong LempuYangan (1960), breathe life into the home, creating a refined and serene atmosphere. The rich wooden textures and soft lighting perfectly complement these works, making Griya Lesmana an extraordinary blend of modern luxury and cultural homage.

At the Peak of Del Sol Valley

Perched with breathtaking views of Del Sol Valley, Griya Lesmana seamlessly blends elegance with its stunning surroundings. The expansive windows showcase the golden landscape, while the Constellation Chandelier (Priced at §25,000) in the sunken conversation pit adds a celestial touch to the home’s refined, luxurious design. Every detail, from curated artwork to rich wooden textures, radiates sophistication in this contemporary masterpiece.

The Ultimate Home Kitchen and Dining

The dining room at Griya Lesmana is a refined space where art meets functionality. The stunning piece Transaksi (1992) by Chusin Setiadikara serves as the centerpiece, setting a tone of cultural richness, while the modern light fixtures bring warmth to every meal. Adjacent to it is the full-metal, industrial-grade kitchen, designed for the ultimate cooking experience. Equipped with top-tier appliances and plenty of counter space, this kitchen is perfect for everything from casual family meals to grand dinner parties.

Four Spacious Bedrooms

The bedrooms in Griya Lesmana are a true retreat, each designed with comfort and luxury in mind. Every room comes with its own walk-in closet, in-suite bathroom, and a private balcony to take in the stunning views of Del Sol Valley. Adorned with hand-picked artworks, like Pedagang Ayam by Hendra Gunawan and Roleplay by Made Toris Mahendra, these spaces blend art, culture, and modern elegance. Whether it's the rich wooden tones or the plush furnishings, each bedroom promises tranquility and style.

Step Into the Backyard

The backyard of Griya Lesmana is an oasis of relaxation and entertainment. Featuring a spacious pool area with a fully functional pool bar, it's the perfect spot for soaking up the sun or enjoying an evening drink. A BBQ patio invites you to indulge in outdoor dining under the warm glow of overhead lights, while the lush greenery surrounding the yard offers a serene retreat. With carefully landscaped gardens and ample lounging space, the backyard is designed to bring the beauty of nature right to your doorstep, all with stunning views of Del Sol Valley in the backdrop.

The Basement

The basement of Griya Lesmana is a hidden luxury haven. It features a spacious parking area that accommodates more than five cars, ensuring plenty of space for any vehicle collection. For fitness enthusiasts, the fully-equipped gym offers a private space to work out, while the sleek, modern sauna provides the perfect spot to relax and unwind. The basement also includes well-designed service quarters, ensuring that every aspect of living in this home is taken care of in style.

Packs Used

If the lot is recognized as modded, it is due to the paintings being registered as CC. There is no CC you need to download to use this build.

Download

Download here via Google Drive

Sul Sul!,

The Lesmana Enterprise Co., Ltd.

#simblr #sims 4 #sims 4 aesthetic #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 build #lesmana-enterprise-ltd #sims 4 mods #sims 4 no cc #sims 4 cc #no cc #residential #modern #tropical #mansion #ts4 residential #sims 4 residential lot #lots #showusyourbuilds

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hometoursandotherstuff · 4 days

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1929 condo in the very wealthy town of Red Bank, NJ. It's got 3bds, 3ba, 4,950 sq ft, $1.325m + $3,200mo. HOA. I wish I could afford it- it's beautiful. Take a look.

Romantic loggia.

A glass wall in this entrance room (with a bar) has a beautiful view of the loggia.

What a wonderful place to entertain.

And, from that room, you walk thru this area.

Make a right and a double staircase takes you down to the living area.

There's another stairscase at the other end of this sitting room.

Doors next to the fireplace open to the conservatory.

What a huge conservatory.

The conservatory opens to a lovely garden.

It has a huge dining room. You can have an event in here, it's so big.

The kitchen opens to a sun room for everyday dining.

The kitchen's very roomy, but I'm not sure about the cabinetry and I'm certainly disappointed in the appliances.

I think that this is a home office b/c that piece looks like an antique pull down desk.

Across from the little office there's a bath. Maybe it was meant to be a small bedroom.

This sitting room has a castle-like look and there's a library behind the fireplace.

And, this looks like a den. These rooms are off the entry hall.

In the primary bedroom, a mirror that looks like it's a built-in closet, gives the illusion of a larger room.

Here's a cute room.

Pretty, vintage, bath.

These stairs go up to a cool attic with plenty of storage.

There's a patio off the loggia.

This is Unit C, but it's really a standalone building.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/310-Cooper-Rd-C-Red-Bank-NJ-07701/352312584_zpid/?

#luxury condos #condos #houses #house tours #home tour

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dunsterhouseblogs · 8 months

Text

Transform your log cabin into a pub shed man cave, where you can relax, entertain, or party. Have some fun with decor to personalise the space to your own theme or hobbies.

https://dunsterhouse.co.uk/avon-shed-bar

#log cabin #pubshed #home bar #aviation #man cave #outdoor lounging area #outdoor living room #summer house #garden room #home and garden #outdoor entertaining #home & lifestyle #gardendesign #outdoorliving #outdoor space #outdoor room #pub bar #pub life

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steddieas-shegoes · 8 months

Text

oh, that's why

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is showing up when someone doesn't ask'

rated t | 1,533 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: friends to lovers, getting together, realizing feelings, love confessions, fade to black

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Eddie was nervous.

He hadn't bothered mentioning Corroded Coffin's first show back to anyone except Wayne, didn't want anyone he knew to see him stumble over chords and lyrics with nerves he'd never had before Vecna. The guys didn't really say anything, but they'd casually suggested some slower songs mixed in to give him a break during the set. They just seemed to know that he didn't have the stamina anymore.

It's not like the Hideout was Madison Square Garden, but news had spread amongst the locals about Eddie's return to the stage and people must have gotten curious. The bar was busier than Eddie'd ever seen it, people lined up against the tiny stage and filling the tables spread out around the room. Every stool at the bar was filled, the door constantly opening to welcome someone new with a chilly breeze from the fall air.

"Hey, man. You ready?" Gareth's hand on his shoulder was meant to be comforting, but all it did was remind him of how much everyone in the crowd probably wanted to watch him fail.

"Yep," Eddie breathed out.

It was fine. This would just be another show, maybe not the best they've ever had, but they did fine during practice. He was fine.

There was no announcement for them, there never was. The bar owner and the main bartender pretty much only invited them back because the regulars would order double the amount of drinks when they performed.

The lights were already dimmed in the bar, and the spotlight stayed on on the stage all night.

It wasn't anything special, but it still felt like a step towards more.

The crowd was loud, and barely paid them any attention during Jeff's introduction.

They started playing Master of Puppets, a shorter version without the solo since Eddie still struggled getting through it without having a panic attack. It was part of "reclaiming his trauma" or whatever the government appointed therapist told him on his second and final visit.

He took the first minute to really look out at the crowd, passed the obnoxious spotlight.

Most of the people were unrecognizable, dressed a lot like Wayne, but lacked the friendly smile he gave him when he managed to make it to his shows. He saw a few people he knew from his first two senior years hanging by the back, probably trying not to be noticed by him.

And then he saw him.

Steve.

His fingers skipped over the strings, missing a note and then two, though only his band and maybe the bartender would notice.

Steve smiled back at him, mouthed 'lookin' good', and gave him a thumbs up.

How did Steve even know about this? None of the other guys had told him, he begged them not to, made them pinky swear that they wouldn't invite anyone they knew for the first show.

Eddie smiled back at him still, happy that Steve was here, realizing now that a friendly face was the only way he would get through this set. He should have told them all.

Most of the set went surprisingly well, and most of the crowd seemed content to watch and sing along. Only a few people walked out when they realized it was mostly metal music, but he figured they weren't really there for any music at all. Watching the freak was the only entertainment a lot of people had in this town.

Steve was nodding his head, nursing the same beer for the entire hour they were on stage, smiling every time Eddie made eye contact with him. He seemed to be enjoying it, despite his usual refusal to listen to any of Eddie's music.

When they got off the stage, Eddie rushed to Steve, not even bothering to put his guitar back in its case first. Most of the crowd had gone outside or settled around the bar anyway, so his sweetheart would be safe.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie bounced on his toes, adrenaline pumping after a successful show. "I didn't tell anyone about this."

"Wayne mentioned it by accident. He assumed you'd asked me to come," Steve shrugged. He didn't seem hurt about not being invited, thankfully, but Eddie still felt guilt bully its way into his chest.

"Sorry. I just wanted to get the first one done before I had anyone here," Eddie nudged his hand. "But thanks for coming. I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad I did too. I'll always be here if you need me, Eds."

It sounded serious, less like what friends do and more like what love does.

"How do you always know what I need?" Eddie couldn't help asking. "It's like I think I'm fine, but then you're there with a glass of water because I haven't remembered to drink all day. Or like tonight, when I thought I could do it on my own, but played much better because you were here."

"I just know you," Steve smiled.

"Wait," Eddie started thinking back to all the times Steve was there. All the times he would show up at the trailer after work to make dinner, not knowing that Eddie had been feeling lonely. All the times he sat next to him on the couch while he planned out Hellfire campaigns because he needed someone to bounce ideas off of who wouldn't be involved. All the times he had to brave the general public and Steve always managed to find a reason to be right by his side, silently protective. "Wait."

"I'm waiting," Steve said. And was he sounding smug? What was that smile on his face? "How long am I supposed to wait?"

"I didn't ask you to be here."

"That's true. You didn't even tell me you'd be here."

"I never ask you to come over. Or go places with me. Or anything."

"You do sometimes," Steve argued.

"Wait."

Steve's lips pinched together, but a smirk was starting to tease its way onto his face.

"You're here because you want to be. Because you knew I'd be a mess and would actually want someone here even though I didn't tell anyone. Because you're always there when I need someone even when I don't admit I do. Because you care about me."

"Love, actually."

Eddie stopped in his tracks. "What?"

"You said I care about you. Duh, of course I do. But I actually love you."

"Like...the way you love Robin?"

"No. Like the way I thought I loved Nancy. But with you it's more. It's way more, Eds."

Eddie was grateful for the dim lighting and Jeff's sudden appearance by his shoulder.

"Eddie! We fuckin' nailed it! I signed an autograph for a girl who knows my name!" He yelled before he noticed Steve. "Oh, hey Steve. Enjoy the show?"

"You all did great, man. Glad you're back out there," Steve reached out to grab his shoulder, a friendly gesture that Jeff wasn't expecting judging by his face. "Need any help loading up?"

"Uh. No. I was actually gonna let Eddie know Gareth's dad came by to help bring all our stuff home so we don't need his van." Jeff gave them both a knowing look, then smacked Eddie's shoulder and smiled. "See you tomorrow!"

Eddie waved at him, still in shock from everything Steve had said before Jeff interrupted.

"You should probably put her in her case, Eds," Steve gestured to the guitar still slung across his back. "People aren't that careful in a bar."

"Wait."

"You've said that a lot tonight."

"Because I'm having a stroke or something. I'm having a very lucid dream. Or maybe I got too high." Eddie shook his head and pinched his own arm. "You love me."

"That's what I said, yeah."

"And you meant it?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

Eddie still felt like he might be dreaming, but he decided to lean into it. If Steve loved him, then that meant-

"Wait."

"Oh my God," Steve groaned, but he was smiling. "What now?"

"I love you, too."

"Yeah? You just figure that out?" Steve definitely sounded smug now.

"Yes! I thought I just had this stupid crush on my straight friend. Sorry I didn't realize the way my stomach does cartwheels when you're next to me meant I loved you!"

They both started laughing.

"So, that's why you were staring at me like that at the pool," Steve finally said through his laughter.

"And that's why you asked me to read to you when you had a migraine," Eddie crossed his arms across his chest to avoid doing what he really wanted to do: pull Steve into the most John Hughes-esque first kiss ever.

"We should probably get out of here," Steve said when he recognized Eddie's twitching fingers fighting to not reach out. "Don't think anyone here would like it too much if I made out with you next to the bar."

"Give me two minutes. I'll meet you outside."

Their actual first kiss was just as John Hughes-esque, but it was in the privacy of Eddie's bedroom, and immediately followed by Steve pushing him against his own door and dropping to his knees.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is showing up when someone doesn't ask #friends to lovers #getting together #realizing feelings #love confessions

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