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prentissluvr · 4 months

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sorry won't cut it — sam and dean winchester

pairing : sam and dean winchester x gn!sibling!reader ➖⟢ genre : angst, hurt/comfort ➖⟢ cw : set in season 8 LOL, sam and dean are kind of/definitely assholes to reader, swearing, arguments, crying, use of kid, kiddo, honey, and sweetheart to refer to reader, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 4K summary : you meet up with sam to discover that dean is back from purgatory, and both have been keeping secrets from you.

when sam answers your call, it comes as a relief. a surprise, but more than anything, a relief. it’s been two and a half months, almost on the dot, since he’s answered a call. usually it’s just one month. he has a single burner phone just for you, but it’s off half the time, and the other half he never answers.

you’ve grown used to his distance, to an extent. it still stings when your phone rings till voicemail sometimes, but you’ve just been too tired to argue with him, to ask him to comfort you, make him keep hashing through the pain of looking for dean and finding nothing but trouble.

you want him to have the normalcy, the girl who loves him and makes him feel alright. you want to have faith that he’ll figure out how to factor you into it all eventually, but you still miss him, and you’re still lonely, so you keep calling, never getting angry or upset when he occasionally picks up. you just act like it’s normal, and you can tell he appreciates it, so you keep it up. in return, he asks you over sometimes, tells you each time how much amelia raves about you after you leave, hugs you tight before you go.

it’s been several months since he’s invited you over, and he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. you figure something must have happened, but you never push anything anymore with him.

this call is different. one, because he finally picks up. two, because he tells you to meet up with him, no explanation or normal talk about what you should bring for dinner. three, he asks you to meet at a random address in kansas.

he sighs deep, “just… get here as soon as you can. i’ll send you the location.” then he hangs up and it feels like the hunting life all over again.

⟢

it’s a seven hour drive, and you’re tired out of your mind, high-strung and worn out from leaving right after your shift at a diner full of sleezes who don’t tip enough. even though this whole thing is strange for the new, hunting-free sam, there’s relief coursing through you at the thought of seeing him, hoping he’ll let your tired feet carry you right into his arms. you pull into a driveway of sorts, no obvious entrance to the unremarkable building in front of you, but your years of hunting and meeting up with your brothers at strange places during strange hours after strange calls help you find the door. it's a bunker, one you've never seen before.

you were always a little bit more like sam, disillusioned to the hunter life and the way your father raised you. you weren’t a fighter like him, but you slipped away at eighteen to go to college and found somewhere near stanford so you’d be able to visit sam often. he loved that, always so glad that you got out too. but you were barely gone a year before dean came back to collect you and sam to look for your dad. you came easier than sam, less attached to your new place and always finding yourself missing dean.

that’s what you’d been doing this past year. missing dean, and painfully. so when you knock on the door, calling out, “it’s me, sammy,” you freeze when it opens several beats later.

because the person behind the door isn’t sam. but it is your older brother. just the one who’s been stuck in purgatory for the last year or so, the one you’ve endlessly searched for to no avail.

“dean?” your voice is small as his name slips from your mouth.

his eyes go soft, the way they rarely get, and the slight smile on his lips is half pained, half pure relief to see you after so long. “hey, kid.”

you launch yourself into his arms, and he catches you easy, right there in the doorway, and you have to fend off tears that you know wouldn’t put up so much of a fight if you weren’t so exhausted. but you were raised tough, and winchesters don’t cry all that often, at least not where someone else can see. so you swallow hard and tough it out, letting dean pull away from you and lead you inside. he moves through the house with a sort of ease he’d only have if he felt comfortable and safe there. this raises questions, along with the fact that he's here at all.

you’re speechless, but not for a lack of anything to say. endless questions stream through your mind, each one pushing to be asked, even more desperate to be answered.

but the only thing you can figure out how to say is “hello” to sam when he greets you in the living room. he pulls you into a hug, letting you linger for a moment before you know you have to ask all of the hard questions. something in his face is unreadable to you, which is rare when it comes to your brothers. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a hint of guilt. that rings alarms in your mind, but you brush your nerves aside when dean takes a seat on the couch.

you relax a bit when you sink down next to him, curling into his side a little. it makes you feel a bit childish, but you need it after everything this past year. he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you a little closer. sam sits down across from the two of you and you heave a sigh, wondering where to start.

opening your mouth and forcing words out is like a crack in a dam. everything comes out slow at first, but that lasts mere seconds before the flood.

“how did you… dean, how did you get out? i mean, i tried– i tried everything,” your voice breaks at that word, the weight of it meaning something only you understand. you look at him, brows taught and you’re confused by the surprise on his face, as if he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“what do you mean, you tried everything?” he asks, voice suddenly gruff and severe. you recoil from his side to get a better look at him. you don’t miss the look he shoots sam. this is already departing from what you expected, which is probably exactly what you should have expected. it’s just that, when dean hugged you back and he was solid and real and alive, when he sat on the couch instead of a chair so you could sit next to him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stay tucked safe into his side as they told you what happened, as they asked you to stay with them.

“what do you mean?” you shoot back. “what, did you think i’d just kick back and call it someone else’s problem?”

“that’s what sam did. that’s what sam said you did.” his voice is accusatory and when you whirl to look at sam, utter bewilderment evident on your face, you can see him physically grimace. which means dean’s telling the truth.

“sam did what?” the question sounds like it’s targeted for dean, but you’re staring the younger down.

“listen, i– no, you know what, i’m not going to explain myself on this again. what do you mean you did everything, you said you were going to school?” sam looks irked and defeated all at once.

“that is completely beside the point, sam, you lied to me?” you ask incredulously, “but you’re not going to explain to me why? why you lied to me or why you apparently didn’t look for dean, i mean are you crazy?” dean’s hand on your shoulder prevents you from standing as your voice grows louder.

“listen, kid, sam and i, we’ve already hashed this out, okay? it’s uh– it’s fine, alright?” with the way he says the word “fine”, you know that it still bothers dean, so you can’t understand why he’d say so. “we’ve got things to discuss here,” dean tries to reason with you before sam can respond. he’s no peace maker, but a full blown fight between the two of you could have an ugly ending.

“things to discuss?” you repeat, in disbelief of the audacity. knowing them, that means they need something from you, which begs the question of why sam asked you over in the first place. you don’t even want to think about them having ulterior motives outside ofjust wanting to see you, so you brush it off angrily. “well, i’m glad to hear that you two have hashed it out, but i haven’t yet, so we can discuss whatever that is later.” you shrug off dean’s hand, trying to focus on the things you’re already angry about instead of asking the even bigger question nagging at you now. when the hell did dean get back that those two had time to hash out something that major? you turn your anger back to sam, thinking about what it was like when dean first disappeared. “you told me you looked. you told me you did all that you could, that you tried everything in your power. now dean’s telling me that you did jack shit?”

sam sighs heavily. “yes, okay. listen, i’m sorry i lied to you, alright? but i just wanted you to try and live your life for once. i figured if i told you i did everything i could, that, i don’t know, maybe you’d give up and try to move on? go to school, do something you love, have real friends, maybe find someone?” he throws his hands up in the air, a defeated gesture because he knows you don’t agree, while he still thinks he did the right thing.

you scoff, because, god, he really has no idea. arms crossed and face the kind of calm that says run to anyone on the other end of your anger, you nod in false understanding. “yeah, what good that did,” you say, your tone so sarcastic and dry that sam just clenches his jaw and dean’s face turns from concerned to full-blown worried. he wonders if he should ask what that means, because whatever it does, it’s certainly not “good.”

but you pick up again after a moment of thick, dripping silence. “you know, sam, you have absolutely no idea how this past year really was for me. i’m not saying it was easy for you, because i know it wasn’t. though now i know you also skipped the trouble of looking for your stuck-in-purgatory-brother and really, actually lived that hunting-free life you wanted.” sam cringes at the venom in your voice. “all i’m saying is that just about nothing has been all, i don’t know, rainbows and butterflies like you think,” your voice is practically scathing, a tone so rare to both of your brothers that neither knows what to say, “and you know what, sam? it’s looking to me like i’d be a lot better off if you’d just decided to tell me the goddamn truth.”

sam says your name, tentative like he’s testing hot waters, “i thought you said things were going well. you said you liked school, that you were making friends there? just explain to me what you mean so we can figure this out.”

“figure it out,” you repeat under your breath, sticking your tongue against the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something too harsh. “sam, things were going well! they were!” now you’re feeling desperate to make him understand, “but that night you told me there was nothing else we could do, nothing else to try and that i should just do my best to move on? i couldn’t, sam, i couldn’t do that. there had to be something more we could do, so i gave up on the things you said you did and i went further. i let you think i was fine, that i was doing what you wanted for me because you always sounded so tired. you always sounded like one more thing on your plate would make the sweet little life you built with a girl and a dog come crashing down, so i made sure you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

dean’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he does his best to make his interruption gentle. he doesn’t want to upset you more, but you can hear the tension in his voice when he asks, “kiddo? what do you mean by you ‘went further?’”

suddenly you shrink in on yourself, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes shining with fresh tears. “dean–,” your voice breaks before you can even say anything else. his hand is on your back, meant to be comforting, but it only makes you feel worse about it all. you know how much dean would hate the lengths you went to to try and get him back. “i can’t–” you shake your head, “i can’t right now, but maybe… maybe if you’d told me the truth, sam, if i’d just started by reading through all of bobby’s books like you said you did, things would have worked out differently.”

“well, maybe if you told me you were going to keep trying, i could have helped you!” sam fires back.

you let out a strangled, frustrated noise as you stand, unable to keep sitting down. “would you? really? because i really don’t think you would’ve! you were so focused on moving on from losing dean that you distanced yourself from me, too! you barely picked up, never called, only talked about dean in three word sentences to tell me a lie about how you tried and failed to find anything to help! maybe if you paid any attention to me, gave any indication that you wanted to help or see me or be a major part of life like i wanted of you, i would have opened up to you!” it makes you even more angry when your voice turns teary, “and for once, i wanted to try to be the one to take care of you two. i kept my secrets, i never let on how fucking lonely i was, just so you wouldn’t worry about me!” a stunned silence falls over you brothers, sam’s guilt beginning to overrun his natural response of anger, and dean making up for that fading anger with his own. your chest heaves with laboured breath as you stare sam down.

dean’s tone is icy as he breaks the silence, “sam, is that really how you treated them while i was gone?”

sam exhales hard, ignoring dean in favor of looking at you, “i was just doing what i thought was the best for both of us. i didn’t know, okay, i’m sorry.”

“are you kidding me?” you exclaim, voice turning shrill and growing louder by the second, “people got hurt, on my account,” you have to force that part out through gritted teeth, “i got kicked out of school, and i spent three months running from hunters!” both sam and dean want to interrupt at that, but you keep going, your voice quieter now, but harsh and trembling, “but you were doing what you thought was best for both of us? try what was best for you. dean was gone, and i needed you, sammy, i needed you and the second you said you needed to get away, alone, i knew i didn’t have you.”

that shuts him up, has him deflating and his guilt taking over, and you can see it and you hate it. you almost wish he’d get angry instead because that means you can keep shouting at him to try and make him understand. but all you get are his clenched jaw, his sad eyes, and his guilty silence that tell you he knows he fucked up but he can’t figure out a way to make it better since sorry sure as hell won’t cut it.

it’s dean who cuts into the heavy silence again. “sam.” his name hangs in the air, weighed down with unspoken words. “we’ll talk about this later,” you guess is the message. you can feel how angry dean is without even looking at him. you know all he ever asked of sam if he was gone was to take care of you, and now dean knows he didn’t. then his attention is back on you. he says your name, clear and careful. “i’m gonna need you to tell me what you did, okay?”

you wipe at your face angrily as you whirl to face dean. trying to keep the ever present tears at bay, you tap right back into your anger. but it's more tired this time, less convincing with your voice taut from unshed tears begging to be released.

“all that, and that’s what you take away from this? really, dean? you’re gonna need to know what i did? i don’t need you to tell me to know that– that it was wrong and i don’t need you to make me feel any more shitty than i already do right now, okay?”

it’s his turn to wear a look of guilt on his face, but it only sits there for a flash before he keeps going. “kid, that’s not what i’m tryna’ do here, alright? i just wanna understand so i can keep us safe, yeah?” he puts his hands out in a peaceful motion, but something else unresolved floats back up into your focus.

“no. dean, no! because there’s something else here, something both of you have been avoiding this entire time!” there’s a sudden change in the air, like both of them are holding their breath, silently begging you won’t ask the question. “dean, how long have you been back?”

his hesitancy to answer tells you everything. “kid, listen, that’s not imp–”

“don’t you dare say it’s not important! did you hear anything i just said, dean? anything about how shit my life has been since you’ve been gone, how lonely i’ve been?”

“you’re right,” sam relents, forging on before dean can stop him, “he’s been back for three months now. it’s my fault we didn’t tell you. it’s all my fault, and believe me, i am so sorry.” you collapse into a chair with your head in your hands as he continues, “i know that does nothing to fix things, but i am sorry, and i promise i will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, kiddo. i’m all in now, and i did it all so this wouldn’t have to be your life, but you’re here now and we want more than anything to have you around, okay?”

you lift your head up to stare at him. “three months.” your voice is dangerously quiet. “you two…” your tired mind can’t think of words strong enough, “drive me insane, you know that? dean, you just– you just went along with that and decided, let me guess, that it was best for me? because i was at school, living a normal life and away from the danger of this one? is that it? it’s best for me not to know my brother’s alive? because, you know, that reminds me of something. hm, maybe the time sam hid from us that he was alive for a year because he didn’t have his fucking soul? oh, yeah, it must be that.” you let out a short bark of laughter, but it and your voice are completely devoid of any humor. dean visibly recoils when you mention that. he’s thought of it, and still decided to keep you in the dark. “come on, dean, you know how that feels and you go and do it to me again? really?”

you’ve beat him too. “honey,” he sighs, “i’m sorry. we were wrong to do that to you, okay?”

finally, you think you might be out of things to say, to be hurt about. your voice is quiet and fragile now, and the dam holding back your tears is fractured in a million places, more than ready to break. “i missed you so much. both of you,” you whisper. you meant to make a scathing comment about how “sorry” and “we were wrong” don’t even begin to cover it, but you find that you’re not in complete control of the things coming out of your mouth. you’re just too goddamn tired. dean is crouching in front of you in an instant.

“i missed you, too, sweetheart. so much. i’m so sorry.” he takes it as a good sign that you let him place his hand on your knee. you want to flick it away, maybe shove him away too.

“and i was so, so lonely. i was so scared,” you sob out, wishing you didn’t have to cry when you got angry. “and i’m so mad that you two did this to me.”

“i know, kiddo, i know. i’m sorry.” gently, slowly, he tugs you towards him and into his arms and you slide onto the floor and cry into his chest, shaking and unable to say a thing. you want to tell him this doesn’t make it right, but dean hushes you gently when you try. “shhh, it’s okay, just let it out, alright? i got you. i got you,” he comforts. it’s true that this doesn’t make it right, but it’s almost all you need in that moment.

“sammy,” you choke out, still so angry with him, but wanting him near anyways, knowing that he’s too scared to come close to you after coming face to face with all of the things he did wrong. his hand is on your back a moment later, hesitant at first, then strong and soothing moments later when you blindly grab for the fabric of his flannel to keep him close.

“okay. okay, i’m here. i’m sorry. i’m here now, i promise,” he whispers, silently letting a few of his own guilty tears fall.

utterly exhausted, you stay slumped on the floor in dean's arms when your tears dry up. you can barely keep your eyes open and your breathing is soft and slow.

“let’s get you to bed,” dean whispers, hoisting you all the way into his arms and up as he stands. “sam’ll grab you a glass of water.” you sigh an imperceptible sigh because you know that dean is still pissed at sam. rightfully so, you’re more than just pissed at both of them, but you’re too tired to care in this moment, and the last thing you want is for them to be angry at each other. that’s your job for when you wake up hours from now.

dean sets you down in a foreign bed pulling the blankets over you, and sam is back moments later with the promised glass of water and tissues for your face. you curl up and tug at the covers slightly, eager to fall asleep.

“see you in the morning,” you mumble, effectively dismissing them with your voice hoarse from crying. you close your eyes before either of them can say a thing, but your words are also a whisper of the beginning of forgiveness.

“goodnight, kiddo,” dean says, his voice full of a familiar affection that he only uses for his little siblings as he presses a kiss to your hairline, before disappearing out the door.

you drowsily register the sound of sam setting the glass of water on the night stand by your head. “i’m right across the hallway if you need anything.” a moment, then, “goodnight,” and a gentle hand on the side of your head before a kiss to your temple.

you fall asleep coming up with a list of petty ways you’ll have them make things up to you. neither sam nor dean will be pleased to hear that you’re calling shotgun in the impala for the next three months, minimum. sam for obvious reasons, and dean because he’ll know that means you’ll be taking your job as youngest sibling to annoy the living hell out of him very seriously.

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moonchildstyles · 11 months

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angel getting high for the first time 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

cw: drug use! its only weed, nothing heavy but if that makes you uncomfortable please skip :)

wordcount: 11.8k+

—————

(Y/N) kicked her legs in the air as she laid tummy down on her bed. She listened to the ringing from the phone pressed to her ear, waiting for a familiar voice to answer.

In the middle of the third ring, her hopes were answered when a click sounded. Muffled background noise started through the speaker, accompanying a honeyed drawl.

"Hi, lovebug," Harry murmured, his speech seemingly slower than normal.

"Hi," she chirped through her smile. Her feet kicked in the air, free hand coming up to twirl her hair around her index finger. "What are you doing?"

A random burst of laughter bubbled through the other line, distant from the phone though it was still loud. "'M on the phone, be quiet," Harry reprimanded, voice far from the receiver before he returned with a decided softer tone, "Nothing, jus' trying to watch a movie with Mitch. What about you, baby?"

"Just in bed," she mused, "I wanted to call before I went to sleep. Did you want me to let you go since you're with Mitch?"

Since deciding on moving in together once their respective leases expired, (Y/N) had been making a point to spend more time with Sarah while she was still so close. She didn't want to get in the way if Harry was trying to do the same.

"No, no, I wanna talk to you, 's alright," he assured her, "How was your day?"

It was still sweet to (Y/N) the way that she could text him all day long, telling him everything about her day, and he still would ask her a question like this. He told her once that he likes hearing her voice, even if he already knows what she's telling him.

"It was alright," she said, rolling to lay on her back, looking up at her ceiling, "I turned in that paper that I was working on last weekend, so that's all done. The library was super quiet today, though, I almost fell asleep in the philosophy section."

A small laugh sounded from Harry. "Did y'really?"

"Yeah," she sighed, a smile curling her lips, "Elizabeth had to come entertain me. But, what about you? You did that big piece today, right?"

"Yeah, the thigh piece," he said, voice thick, "She was a nice girl, but I had a headache by the time we took the first break. She liked to talk a lot. M'hand's been cramping since lunch."

A pout landed on (Y/N)'s lips. She hated hearing about those kinds of details from Harry's job. She had always figured it was so fun and glamorous, easy and fulfilling. She had never thought about the physical toll of drawing and shading and designing all day long.

"Oh, no," she hummed, instinctively rolling her wrist and curling her fingers as if she could take his pain from miles away. "Did you take anything to help?"

"Kind of. Mitch and I have been relaxing since he got home."

She knew exactly what that meant. Though Harry tended to keep this specific hobby of his separated from her, set on the back burner away from the time he spent with her, she knew better. Besides, she had found that little bag in his dresser months ago, she wasn't completely clueless (of course, he did have to explain what she had found to her, but that was a different story).

That would explain why time seemed to be moving a little bit slower on the other end of the phone, and the boisterous laughter Mitch was sharing in the background.

"Have you been smoking?" she asked, voice quiet. She always felt a bit silly bringing this up to him, unsure of what terms to be using and what meant what exactly.

"A little bit, yeah," he affirmed, "Sorry. I didn't know you'd be calling. I wouldn't have if I knew you wanted to talk tonight."

Shaking her head despite the fact he couldn't see her, (Y/N) rushed her protests. "No, no, don't be sorry. I don't mind, you know that. As long as you're happy and you guys are being careful."

"Always am, baby."

A heat bubbled in her chest at his words. While he never did it around her, there were times that she called him or he FaceTimed her before bed when he was under the influence and his voice drawling just a little deeper, sitting heavier in his chest, hit her just perfectly. She could imagine the way his eyes were a bit hooded, his tongue sticking around his words, the easy smiles that spread across his face for no other reason than he liked the feeling.

She wondered what he looked like in the act. Was it like the movies with lavender smoke and pieces of blown glass with intricate details? Or did he make his own little rolls, hanging from his lips like a cigarette?

Mitch's loud laugh on the phone brought her back to reality, blinking her back to her room and Harry's static on the other end of the phone. Harry gave a muffled response before his own laughter joined his best friend's, the sound drawling and breezy.

When he returned to the phone, she could hear the lingering smile in his tone. "I think Mitch found a movie for us to watch, love."

"What is it?" she asked, feeling the end of the phone call nearing. She would have to settle for spraying the stuffed bunny he gifted her for Valentine's Day with a sample of his cologne for her to cuddle for the night.

"I don't even know," he laughed, "but, I think 's gonna be funny. I think 'm gonna have to make us food, though, so I don't think I can talk for much longer."

"That's okay. Have fun with Mitch and I'll talk to you tomorrow, right?"

"Right," he affirmed, voice soft, "Sleep well, lovebug. I'll call you during my lunch."

"Okay," she sighed, fitting her cheek against her pillow, "I love you."

"I love you more, baby," he cooed, "Goodnight."

An exaggerated kiss noise sounded through her phone, pulling a loud peal of laughter from (Y/N)'s lips. He never really did that when he was around his friends, only putting on the show when he was calling her in private. She thought it was very sweet.

"Goodnight," she laughed, pressing the red button before she became too spoiled with his shenanigans and tried to keep the call going.

Setting her phone on her nightstand, she snuggled into her comforter, a throw blanket covering her body instead of her duvet. Pulling her studded bunny from the fringes of her bed, (Y/N) nestled her cheek against the soft fluff. The sown still smelled of Harry's house from the last time she had spent the night, bringing her back to what he was doing in her absence.

The mystery surrounding his activity of choice for the day is what flicked her curiosity. She'd seen a few movies with marijuana being an uncredited character along with a couple of books with the high feeling being described, but she had never been exposed to anything substantial in real life before she moved away from her parents. Even then, she still hadn't experienced more than the herbal scent that inevitably clung to apartment complexes so close to a university campus and the few bleary eyed classmates she had to work with.

Specifically, she wondered what Harry was like when he was in that state. Those classmates of hers always seemed disconnected, tired, and in their own head. Was Harry the same way? Did he act the way he did when he drank a little bit too much wine? Or was he wild and excitable like those in the movies? Or sleepy like she had read in her books?

What would she be like?

The idea followed her behind her shuttered eyes, her mind going a bit floaty the closer she sunk into sleep.

—————

"Sarah, have you ever... smoked weed before?"

The words felt silly falling from (Y/N)'s mouth. Was that even the correct term? She didn't know, but she kept her attention on the food she was making in front of her, hoping Sarah wouldn't notice.

"Yes," she answered with a suspicious drawl, sweeping through the apartment with a laundry basket on her hip, "Why?"

(Y/N) only shrugged. "I don't know. I've just been thinking about it." She paused, tipping her head. "What does it feel like?"

"Smoking?" Sarah pressed.

"Yeah," (Y/N) chirped, feeling shy that she was even breaching this conversation. "Or, like, being high. Is it like the movies?"

"A little bit," Sarah mused, folding her laundry on the dining room table into neat piles. "It's not as dramatic or crazy, but it can feel that way sometimes. It depends on the person. Everyone's different."

Rolling her lips, (Y/N) nodded her head. She chanced a look over her shoulder at her friend, slowing her stirring. "What are you like?"

Sarah shrugged, a crease between her brows as she thought. "I haven't smoked in a while, but I used to get really tired. It always depended on what kind we had, but I usually got really tired."

Is that what Harry did? Did he get sleepy, like some of her classmates? Did he nod off during the movie he and Mitch watched the other night?

"When was the last time?" (Y/N) asked, hoping Sarah didn't cut her off. She was genuinely curious, she hoped she wasn't prodding and poking past her welcome.

"Maybe a year ago? Could have been longer," Sarah answered. "I was with Mitch so it wasn't too long ago."

Fixing her attention back on the stirring of the soup she was making for their dinner, she tried to act casual as she spoke. "W-Was Harry there, too?"

"Harry?"

(Y/N) could hear the smile in Sarah's voice as she realized where (Y/N)'s curiosity was stemming from. She never tired of teasing just a little over how in love she was with her Harry. (Y/N) only hummed a confirmation, keeping her voice to herself.

"He wasn't there the last time, but he did used to smoke with us sometimes," Sarah explained, sounding a little too amused as she spoke, "Why?"

Shrugging, (Y/N) pretended as if she wasn't intrigued at the info Sarah could share. "No reason really. Was it fun? With Harry and Mitch and all?"

"(Y/N)," Sarah sighed, her voice floating through a smile, "C'mon."

Stopping her distracting task, she turned to face Sarah who was looking at her with that knowing smile she somehow always had when it came to (Y/N)'s secrets. She was an open book as her friend could tell.

"What?" (Y/N) feigned nonchalance as if she hadn't already been caught.

"Did Harry say something? Is that why you're asking about all of this?" Sarah poked, her features set in a gentle tease.

Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth she canted her head, eyes dropping to where Sarah's hands had stalled her folding. "Not exactly," she started, "He just... I don't know, I called him the other night and he was with Mitch and they had been smoking, he told me. I know he's done it a few times since we started dating, but I've just been thinking about it since then."

Sarah hummed, nodding her head as she listened. "I get it," she said, "I know he doesn't do it around you or anything, right?" (Y/N) only shook her head. Popping her hip with a furrow appearing in her brow as she cast her mind back in search of answers for (Y/N)'s previous questions. "I wouldn't say it's exactly like the movies," Sarah continued, "But it depends on the person and the strain, and things like that. I usually get pretty tired and hungry, Mitch is like the movies sometimes—loud and everything is funny—, and Harry gets really lovey and lazy. None of us really make much sense, though."

(Y/N) tried to picture it. Lavender smoke in the air, Harry lazing about with hearts in his eyes, Mitch laughing about nothing, and Sarah passed out in the corner with a pillow under her cheek. A pinch appeared between her brows as she tried to see where she would sit amongst those characters.

"What do you think I'd be like?"

Blinking, Sarah brought her gaze to her friend. She pursed her lips as she took in (Y/N).

"I don't know. It's not the same as being drunk, so I don't know if you'd be as excitable." Sarah contemplated for a moment longer. "I don't really know, honestly. Are you thinking about finding out?"

She could only shrug. A similar anxiety she felt around alcohol before she broke that barrier still surrounded this, if even a bit heightened given the fact the substance was still very much taboo in her life. There were so many scary, over-exaggerated out there about marijuana, along with the fact that it was still very much taboo in (Y/N)'s life. The use of it seemed to be something that was only done in private and kept as a secret for some people. She was worried that if she found out why, she would regret it.

Though, there were those puffing thoughts in the back of her mind that begged to differ. It couldn't be that bad. Harry, Mitch, and Sarah were three of her favorite people in the whole world. They weren't devilish burnouts with a one-track lifestyle taking them down the drain, like horror stories and PSA's liked to project. They were good people who sometimes indulged in extra relaxation when they had the chance and the mindset to do so. There was nothing wrong with that.

"You could ask H, if you wanted. You know he'd answer anything you wanted to know."

"I know," (Y/N) drawled, unsure despite the fact she knew Sarah was telling the truth. "You don't think he'd be annoyed or anything? I know he keeps it all separate from me for a reason, so I don't want to make him upset."

Sarah leveled her gentle gaze on (Y/N)'s face. "I think he does it because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything. It's different than drinking wine with him and things like that, so I bet he just doesn't want to scare you."

(Y/N) shook her head, "He couldn't scare me, though. He's too nice."

"To you," Sarah clarified, her smile soft and teasing, "You know he just worries about you and all of that. You wouldn't upset him if you wanted to know more about anything he does."

He did love teaching and showing her things, she knew that.

"I'll think about it," (Y/N) settled.

"Good," Sarah smiled, grabbing her stacks of folded laundry, "Is dinner ready?"

"Almost," (Y/N) chirped, adding a little bit of extra seasoning to the pot, "I just need to add the noodles. It'll probably be ready by the time you're done putting everything away."

Sarah gave a small cheer, stacks of clothing now rehomed in the laundry basket to be returned to her room. "Thank you," she sung, "We should watch that yacht show when we sit down, don't you think?"

Perking up at the suggestion, (Y/N) quickly nodded her head. "That sounds perfect!" she smiled, mellowing some as she turned her attention to her swirling soup base, "And, thank you for answering everything, by the way. It always helps me."

"I know, that's why I do it," Sarah settled, reaching out to squeeze (Y/N)'s arm gently before she swept away.

Left in the silence of the kitchen with only the simmering soup, (Y/N) felt a little bit lighter. Some of her questions were answered even if she had more she wanted to hear from Harry directly. More than anything, she was a little enamored at the idea that Harry was loving and lazy under the influence. She already had a small idea given that she had seen how easy and bubbly he became when he drank, but she'd never seen him really slow down the way she pictured it in her head.

She wanted to see just how lovey he became, if she was being honest. She already had the privilege of experiencing the affectionate side of him, she wondered just how much higher that volume would be kicked to if he had been smoking. What if he really did have hearts in his eyes?

The thought brought a quiet smile to (Y/N)'s face.

Maybe, she really would have to ask him.

—————

"What are you thinking for dinner, my love?"

(Y/N) puckered her lips to reciprocate the small kiss Harry gave her as he traipsed by the couch. Her eyes followed the broad of his back as her made his way towards the kitchen. With her hands folded on the arm of the sofa, she rested her cheek on her forearm, kicking her legs up behind her as she watched him.

"Whatever you want, I'm okay with," she told him, voice soft and easy.

"Yeah?" he prodded, looking over his shoulder as he washed his hands in the sink, "Even if I didn't feel like making dinner tonight and decided to order sushi instead?"

"Sushi?" (Y/N) bubbled, "From the new place?"

Harry nodded, dimples thumbed into his cheeks. "I figured we could try it out tonight, if that was alright."

"Yes, please," she beamed, her grin only widening when came around to join her in the common area after drying his hands.

His lip ring bobbled as he matched her smile, using a gentle hand to push a stray strand of hair from her eyes. "Why don't you pull up the website for us while I put my sketches away, and find what y'like. Then we'll order, yeah?

Despite the long hours he worked at the shop this past weekend, he looked as gorgeous as ever to (Y/N). He lacked eyeliner after wiping it off as soon as he made it home, but his eyes were still the star of the show against his creamy skin. A fresh bee tattoo stood out on the column of his throat, the mosaic wings following the line of his jaw amongst the rose bush filler he had inked across the skin. With the way he stood over her, she got the perfect view of his spiraling curls and the cut planes of his face complete with his glimmering nose stud and lip ring.

She nodded her head in a lovey daze. "I can do that."

Amusement flickered in his eyes as he looked down at her. He dipped to her level to press a lingering kiss to the tip of her nose. "Thank you, baby," he murmured, moving away to gather the art supplies he was working with, "I'll be right back."

Pulling out her phone, (Y/N) searched up the restaurant up while her mind was still on Harry.

While the questions she had for him were still in the back of her mind, it was too easy to become distracted with him. They weren't apart for a long time by any stretch of the imagination, but even spending a long, four-day weekend away from one another allowed enough fondness to grow between them to keep her mind from wandering very far from what was right in front of her. Besides, Harry barely let her get a word in since she stepped foot in his home, having tugged her to his bedroom with his lips pressed to hers, only breaking for breath.

She'd ask him at some point, she was sure. If she had the mind to after dinner.

Browsing through the menu for a few minutes, (Y/N) found the rolls she was interested in, picking things she had a feeling Harry would like and finding other little gems on the website that she would mention in hopes of getting his opinion on. She searched through the site, trying to find an option to order online with no luck, the browser rerouting her to the main page every time she tried to plug into the ordering site.

"H?" she called, realizing he still hadn't come back from resetting his utensils.

"Yes?" he answered back, still in the bedroom, "What do y'need, love?"

Instead of responding, she stood from the couch and moved towards his room, brows knitted and phone screen bright in her hand. "The website isn't working—it won't let me order," she explained, stepping over the threshold to his room.

Lifting her head, she saw him standing at his dresser, back to the door with his head angled down and hands fiddling across the top of his dresser. He looked over his shoulder at her, his hands slowing.

"Give me a second, and I'll take a look," he told her, "I'm still cleaning up—forgot I left some things out."

"Oh?" she sounded, stepping towards him with her phone being slid back into her pocket, "Do you want any help?"

Growing close enough, she peered around him to see what he was working on. Instead of spotting the graphite and colored pencils she figured she'd find, she instead saw tiny green buds splaying across the wooden surface with a pair of loose pieces of thin paper and a tall black canister. Harry worked quickly to clean up the mess, majority of the green flakes having been scooped up and replaced in the container though he was struggling to wrangle the remains back into their container.

"'S alright," he murmured, shifting just enough to cut her view of the space, "'M almost done."

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she rocked on her heels as she stayed put. Before she could think better of her words, they were already spilling from her mouth:

"Is that weed?"

She cringed at the sound of her voice wrapping around something so outside of her vocabulary. It sounded better in her head.

Harry's hands slowed, stilling before he looked over his shoulder at her. A sliver of his workspace was once again revealed at the small shifting.

"What was that?" he pressed, his question seemingly heavy between the two of them.

She said the wrong thing, didn't she? (Y/N) dropped her gaze from his, settling on the new bumblebee on his neck instead.

"I ask if that was your... you know," she trailed off, hating the sound of her floundering almost more than just saying the word outright, "That's weed, right?"

Feeling Harry's gaze trail over her, (Y/N) tried not to squirm.

"It is, yeah," he muttered, "I didn't realize I left it out. 'M sorry."

Darting her eyes up to match his once more, she tipped her head to the side. "Why are you sorry?"

Turning away from the dresser entirely, Harry faced her directly. He gave her a small shrug. "I don't like leaving it out when you're here. I meant to clean it up before y'came over, but I forgot."

"You know I don't mind," she reminded him, "You don't have to be sorry."

A gentle smile curled his lips, only a single dimple in his cheeks as he looked at her.

"Thank you, love," he started, "Let me clean up, I'll wash m'hands again, and then I'll—"

"What does it feel like?"

(Y/N) could feel her skin simmering in embarrassment as her tumbling question fell from her mouth before she had a chance to police the words. Everything she had been too distracted to ask him came flooding back then, unable to be stopped now that she saw the opportunity.

"Sorry," she peeped, realizing how abruptly she had cut him off.

He waved her off, "'S alright." He watched her with attentive eyes, catching each of her expressions and minute movements. "What does what feel like?"

There was no going back now, she figured.

"Being high," she peeped, "What does it feel like?"

While he didn't seem to understand where her line of questioning was coming from, or understood her sudden curiosity in his private hobby, he didn't dissect any further.

Harry rolled his neck, pursing his lips. "It's different for everyone," he started, much the same as Sarah had, "It depends on the kind you smoke, too."

"But what does it feel like for you?" she rattled off, her words coming quick. Her hands were a busy bundle at her waistline, looking at him with curious eyes.

A small tug on the corner of his lip had a lopsided smile sparking on his mouth. "It depends, like I said, on what kind, but I usually like it best when m'hands hurt. It helps numb it long enough for the cramping to go away," he mused, "But, other than that, it makes me tired—but not enough to sleep. I jus' want to do nothing but sit and eat. I also get very touchy; lots of cuddling with pillows and whining about not being with you."

He had to have known that his last comment would get her lips splitting into a sheepish smile, (Y/N) dropping her head to fix her gaze at their feet. It was still a little wild to her that Harry thought about her as often as she did him, even when she wasn't right in front of him.

"You feel like that every time?"

"Mostly, yeah," he shared, "Sometimes I feel like sketching, or I fall asleep right away. Back when Mitch and I would go out a lot, I used to be really hyper—doing stupid shit because I wasn't afraid of anything. I've definitely calmed down since then."

"Oh," she sounded. (Y/N) couldn't imagine Harry being reckless, getting himself into trouble that way—but, this was the same man that apparently received his first tattoo at a mechanic's garage by a very amateur artist. He was capable of anything, she guessed.

"Why do you want to know, love?" he asked, tipping his head with a spiral of his curl falling over his shoulder.

She attempted to act as nonchalant as possible, giving a shrug of her shoulders despite her lips being rolled between her teeth. "I don't know," she answered, "I've just been thinking about it, I guess."

"Yeah? Is that all y'wanted to know?"

While there had to have been hundreds of questions that could come to mind, everything from what he and Sarah meant when they specified reactions were based on the strain or kind of weed that was being consumed, to what skunks vs. dank meant when it came to the herb, she didn't know where to start. Though there was one thing she was wanting to know, beyond just the details of what it would be like to see a clingy, lovey Harry.

"What do you think I'd be like?" she asked, her words coming out in a rush before she could rethink them.

Harry's gaze was warm on her face as he examined her. Amusement sparked in his eyes.

"I don't know, but I have a feeling you'd be a little bit like Mitch," he explained, "I think you'd be excited about everything. But, I'd hope you'd be a little like me just because I like the idea of you being clingy and warm, too."

She liked that idea, too. It was easier this time to add herself to the picture of Harry, Mitch, and Sarah, superimposing herself at Harry's side with her own hearts in her eyes and her hands tangled with his. (They could sneak kisses, too, if she caught the bug of no fear like he used to have).

"Could—Can I—... I think I want to try, if that's alright," she stuttered, unable to find the right words before just letting something roll off her tongue.

Harry's silence was heavy between them, the lilypad of his irises setting on her. "You want to try smoking?"

Starting with a soft nod, she tried to find that reckless bubbling that had carried her this far. "I think so, yeah." A beat passed. "If that's alright."

When he didn't immediately say anything, she chanced a peek up at him to find his eyes fixed on her, gentle and melting as he took her in. He opened his arms for her when he caught her eye, his features softened and warm. "C'mere."

(Y/N) all but fell into his arms, his chest warm and solid under her cheek. She looped her arms around his middle, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxed into him. He worked like a shot of lavender incense and chamomile tea for her, the perfect thing to settle her in moments like these.

His hand spanned over the planes of her back, fingertips massaging the knots of muscle and ladder of her spine. He rubbed over her form in a soothing circuit between her shoulder blades, his opposing hand an anchoring weight on her waist.

"Y'really want to try it out, love?" he prodded her gently, his voice rumbling under her cheek.

"I think so," she mumbled, finding it easier to speak now that she was there to hold her instead of watch her.

"When did y'decide that?"

"The other day, I think," she explained, "After we talked on the phone."

He hummed, the sound reverberating in her ear. "What made y'think y'wanted to try something like this?"

Harry always liked to talk her through things like this, she found. It made it easier for him to understand her thought process, he'd said, helping him be honest with her if he worried she was making a choice that might hurt her later. He never lacked patience when it came to guiding her through new experiences.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, "I just want to know what it's really like. I've only seen a couple of movies and read a few books, but I want to know what it would feel like for me. I don't think it could be so bad if you like it."

Nosing at her hair, she could feel the smile that had spread across his lips. "'M not always the smartest though, baby. You know that."

She let out a small laugh at his griping. "I know, but I trust you. If you really don't think it would be good for me, I know you would tell me."

A pause settled between them.

"You don't feel like you have to, right? Jus' because 's something I do sometimes, I don't expect you to feel comfortable with it or want to do it with me."

"I know," she responded, voice resolute, "I just want to try it at least once. If I don't like it or anything like that, I won't do it again."

After a lingering moment, Harry drew her away from him, peering down at her with a soft gaze. "If you're sure, then we can try it whenever y'want. Jus' let me help you, and I'll be there."

An impulsive flicker lit through her system. She was on a roll, why stop now?

"Can we try it tonight?"

Harry looked at her with widened eyes. "Tonight?"

(Y/N) nodded her head. "I don't have class until the afternoon tomorrow," she started, a plan coming together, "Do you have to go in early tomorrow?"

His smile was lopsided as he shook his head, likely following where she was going with this. "No, I don't."

"We could stay up, then," she rattled off, "I could try tonight, and if anything goes wrong we can sleep in a little in the morning."

Amusement filtered through his gaze. "I didn't know we were having a sleepover," he teased her, dipping his head until his nose nudged against hers, "Y'want to stay the night with me, baby?"

Her skin hummed as (Y/N) fought the urge to hide herself in his neck. (She acted as if he hadn't been fingers deep in her just a few hours prior, their mouths welded together and her legs around his waist)."

"Harry," she whined, curling her fists in his t-shirt to keep from pulling away, "I'm trying to be serious."

"I know," he crooned, tipping his chin to peck a soft kiss to her pouted lips, "And, 'm listening. We can try it out tonight, if y'really want to. But, I think we should eat first, yeah?"

"Yeah," she repeated, giving a slight nod of her head, "I still need help with the website, though."

"Right," he murmured, pulling away, "Since I don't really need to clean up anymore, let me take a look."

With that, (Y/N) handed him her phone, telling him about the confusion she felt with the links and the rerouting and all, but her mind was somewhere else. Flicking her gaze around his shoulder, she saw the mess he was leaving out for them to take care of later. The small green buds sparked that familiar kind of nervous excitement that she'd grown accustomed to when it came to new things Harry was planning on teaching her.

She just hoped she didn't make a fool of herself.

—————

"What did you think, love? Good, right?"

Taking their dirty utensils—including the pink chopsticks he gifted her for Valentines—Harry spoke over his shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen.

(Y/N) sat pliantly on the couch, tummy full of the variety of sushi rolls they sampled for the night, along with a new favorite miso soup that she was surely going to be craving as the week went on. "So good. I think my favorite is still the spicy salmon one with that seaweed salad on top."

Harry laughed from where he stood, surely remembering the way she had practically taken that roll for herself, hoarding the pieces to allow only one bite for him. "I really liked that one, too. We'll have to go back again soon, yeah?"

"Yes, please," she chirped, looking over the back of the couch as he made his return.

While the food was a delicious distraction for the night, (Y/N) had still marinated in the idea of what would be coming once she finished and they were settling for the night. The mess he'd left on his dresser was waiting for them, loose papers and all.

"Ready?" he asked, coming to stand at the end of the sofa.

Was she? She wasn't sure, honestly. But that uncertainty was outweighed by the curiosity and bubbly jitters she had since Harry had agreed to help her.

Before she had a chance to answer and take his hand, Harry spoke up again, "Jus' to get ready for bed first, baby."

"Oh," she sounded, nothing more intelligent coming to mind at the moment, "Um, yeah. Then we'll...?"

He cracked a smile at her hesitancy to name the activity that she had brought up. "Yes, we'll do that afterwards. You'll probably feel more comfortable in some pajamas and your face clean."

Though she felt a bit silly at the way she had built up a moment that hadn't quite arrived yet, she understood his logic. Besides, if she turned out to be like Sarah, she wouldn't beat herself up in the morning if she did all of her skincare now, and not when she was already inches from sleep.

Taking Harry's hand, she followed after him as he led her to his bedroom, a small duffle bag of hers that stayed here was already sitting by the bathroom door. A change of clothes, and minis of her most essential skincare needs were packed away inside, making it easy for her to spend the night impulsively when she wanted to.

(Just then, the reminder that she wouldn't be confined to a single bag when they moved in together made her more giddy than before. Soon, she'd be sharing a whole closet with him, a bathroom, and a home. She couldn't wait).

(Y/N) went through the motions of getting unready with Harry standing behind her in the mirror. More often than not, as she brushed her teeth or patted a balm into her skin, her eyes wandered to his reflection. Once or twice, when she was caught, he gave her a sly smile with glimmering eyes. But, when he didn't catch her, his attention on his own task, she was left to allow her mind to gill with imagination.

She was reminded as she ran her eyes along the cut of his jaw, the plants of his features, and the high points in-between, that he would be stepping behind the lavender veil with her. His previous conversation with her had only revolved around her and what she wanted out of this experience, straying her mind away from the fact that he was going to be a part of the package.

What would he look like with smoke pluming from his mouth? Would his lilypad eyes go glazed and red? She wondered if his hands would feel any different gliding over her skin, if his lips would still feel as pillowy against hers.

The thought had her cheeks warming, a sheepish smile forming around the toothbrush between her lips.

Harry finished before her, stepping out of the bathroom to give her privacy to change into her pajamas. "I'll wait for you out here," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her head.

Closing the door behind himself, she was left alone with the chilled tile under her socked feet. Glancing at the mirror, (Y/N) found herself fresh-faced with wide eyes and a slight swell to her lips from the amount of times she rolled them between her teeth. Blinking, she wondered if she would look any different to Harry after she pulled the smoke into her lungs.

It was with rushed hands that she dressed into her sleep clothes (really nothing more than a pair of tiny shorts she would inevitably kick off in the night, and a shirt she had stolen so long ago from Harry that it was hers now), almost slipping her top on backwards before she righted herself in the mirror. Stepping out of the washroom with her laundry being dropped atop her duffle for later, (Y/N) saw Harry once again at his dresser.

This time, he looked to her with an easy smile, his hands working over the surface before him.

"Better?" he smiled, lip ring bobbing.

"Mhm," she hummed, moving towards him in slow strides, "What are you doing?"

Turning back to face his hands, he told her, "Jus' getting our things ready. Do you want to watch?"

A pinch creased her brows as she went towards him. Peering around his shoulder, she saw him working with one of the loose papers from before and a small pile of crushed up greenery.

"What do you have to do?" (Y/N) only had a vague idea of what all went into preparing for a session like this.

Smiling down at her, his ministrations slowed now that her attention was placed on his hands. He sidestepped just enough to allow her an unobstructed view of his work. "I figured we'd stick with a joint this first time, so I've got to roll one up for us to use."

Looking at it now, while she didn't have much knowledge of any of this, she could see familiar pieces forming. The paper would be rolled and twisted with the bud inside, Harry flickering a lighter at the end like a cigarette when it was ready.

"How do you do that?" she muttered, stepping that much closer, feeling as if she were a child pressing their nose against the glass separating them from gallons of ice cream.

A huffed laugh fell from his lips then. Lifting his arm up, he beckoned her to stand between his chest and the dresser. "C'mere."

Slipping into the small space he freed for her, the heat of his chest could be felt against her back. Though she caught whiffs of it before, now the herby, earthy smell of the bud was right at her nose, wafting through the air and clinging to her skin. Right in front of her, Harry worked around her, his fingers deftly working through his supplies.

"First," he started, "You've got to keep the paper flat out and put one of the filters at the end." She watched as he pulled a tiny white piece from the canister, setting it at the middle of one of the short ends of the paper. He kept it stable when he reached for the ground up weed that he had piled in the lid to the container, a small mound he pinched at before sprinkling the chunks in a line across the paper. "We've got to fill it up enough so there's not any air bubbles between," he explained as he worked, his arms hovering above her shoulders as he created their joint with the ease of experience. "This part’s always a little hard for me," he told her, to her surprise.

"What do you mean?" He could have fooled her.

"'S hard to pack it in like this," he elaborated, his voice dull as he concentrated, "M'fingers are too big, so I've got to be extra careful that I don't mess it up."

Honing her gaze in on his digits, she had to keep herself from tipping her head to the side and falling victim to the sight. She could see it then, she figured, watching as he tried to pat everything as tightly and precisely as possible. His fingers definitely were too big.

"Oh," she sounded.

A breathy laugh came from behind her, the exhale twisting through the hair on the top of her head. "Would y'do something for me, love?" he asked, finally packing enough in as tightly as he could before he started folding the ends of the thin paper.

She gave a nod, now too transfixed on his hands to speak with an even tone.

"Would you give this a lick for me?" he asked, "We've gotta seal it up before I can twist it all up."

"Like, the paper?" she clarified, eyeing the open flap he was presenting to her with the joint grasped carefully between his fingers.

Harry hummed a confirmation. "There's glue on this edge like an envelope. Gotta make it sticky, then I can close it up for us."

"Um, okay," she muttered, placing a steadying hand on his wrist as he brought the almost-joint to her lips.

Parting her mouth, she swiped the tip of her tongue along the very edge of the paper. It didn't taste quite as artificially sweet as a regular envelope, but then again, everything was coated in that dusky scent that the herb folded inside held.

"Thank you, baby," he told her, pulling the joint from her lips as he did the closing motion of sealing the edge to the roll. She watched as he did the final step, twisting down the free edge into a tight swirl before he presented it with the filtered end between his fingertips. "All done."

In front of (Y/N) was the stereotypical joint that she had seen in the few films that showed as much. The paper was translucent in the way that she could clearly see it was filled from the inside with dark, green flakes. The filtered edge was tapered down into a small funnel, leaving the head of the roll trumpeting out, thick with the ground up weed.

"That was fast," (Y/N) muttered, wanting to reach out and touch, but too scared.

"I've gotten pretty good, I can't lie," he joked with her, pressing his lips to the back of her head. A paused settled again before he spoke to her, his head still dipped down as he murmured, "Y'still feeling alright, darling? Still want to, or do y'want to go to bed and watch a movie instead?"

Examining the joint in front of her, the thick scent of the weed surrounding her with the heat of Harry's chest at her back, she nodded her head. "I still want to."

Dropping an arm to wrap around her waist from behind, Harry hugged her to him for a moment. "Grab a jacket then, and we'll go out back for a second, yeah?"

"Outside?" she asked, turning in his hold.

"Don't want it stinking up the house, right?" He looked at her with a raised brow, already stepping towards the closet in search of his own coat. "We'll be fast, baby, 's alright."

(Y/N) supposed he was onto something, realizing that she had never been struck by the heavy scent like she would figure if he had smoked in his bedroom. As long as no one complained, it wasn't a bad idea to head outback for a second. It would be nice to take in deep breaths in between the smoke too, she figured.

With a set of slippers on her feet, and a thick hoodie on her body, she followed Harry out the back door, ending on the back patio. He sat on the stoop at her feet, patting the space next to him.

"Warm enough?" he asked, moonlight waning above their heads.

Snuggling closer to his side, she nodded her head. "I'm alright, thank you. Are you warm?"

Despite the unzipped jacket on his form and the thin t-shirt underneath, Harry gave her a small smile. "'M good, baby."

Flicking out a lighter and the joint from his pocket, he sparked the flame with a flick of his fingers.

He ran the spark over the trumpeted tip of the joint, his face warming in the firelight glow. "We'll take it easy tonight, yeah?" he murmured, concentration on his hands, "I don't think it'll take much to get y'there, so we probably won't finish this but we'll save the rest for another time if you want."

She watched as he rotated the edge of the joint over the flame, evenly burning the tip. "Are you not going to have any?"

"I will," he assured her, "But, I want to make sure I can take care of you. I won't be having too much."

Having a deja vu moment, (Y/N) was reminded of how it felt to be sitting in his lap as he fed her wine, keeping his own head clear while he let her run wild.

With the end of the joint glowing a warm orange, Harry put the lighter away. He ashed the very tip away, revealing cool lavender smoke twisting through the air with a heady scent clinging to the particles.

"Want the first go?" he asked, tipping the roll towards her in an offer.

"No, no," she answered immediately, "You first."

His smile was lopsided as he agreed, pulling the joint to his mouth. She watched as he tucked the filtered end between his lips, taking in a shallow inhale with the fiery end glowing to life. His chest expanded as he inhaled. He only pulled the roll away from his lips when his chest was puffed with smoke, a lingering second passing before he exhaled, plumes of dancing smoke drifting through the air. The heavy, thick aroma of the weed surrounded them.

(Y/N) couldn't pull her eyes from him as the smoke seeped from between his lips, a thin, violet filter hazing his features. The moon above seemed to catch each particle, drowning the scene in cool toned shades, muted and closed.

She waited for something to change in the way he looked, the way he acted. When the only thing he did was turn to her with a blink, once again offering the joint to her for a try, she wasn't sure what she had expected.

"Do y'think y'can do that?"

Her brows creased. "Do what?"

Amusement molded his features as he tipped his chin towards his offering. "Taking a hit," he stated, "Inhaling, and everything."

"I-I think so," she answered, carefully pulling the roll from his fingers. She hesitated before taking it to her lips, nervous to replicate his actions while he watched. "Do you feel any different?"

His smile was warm as he shook his head. "No—probably won't be too different tonight. I've built my tolerance pretty high, so I'll be fine."

"Oh," she sounded, feeling the slightest bit disappointed knowing that she wouldn't get the full experience of seeing him for what he was under the influence. Maybe sometime she could convince him to let it go. Focusing back on the joint, she stared intensely at the thin ribbon of smoke falling from the tip. "How do I inhale?"

"Jus' breathe in, baby," Harry laughed, throwing an arm across her shoulders. He tucked her against his side, warming her through her layers. "Only take a little bit at a time, though. And, if y'need to cough, jus' let it happen. You'll be alright."

Though it was only a few tiny rules, it felt like so much to remember, to keep track of while she was trying something so foreign.

"Wh-What if I take too much?" she muttered, worrying now the longer that she let it keep burning. She hoped she wasn't wasting everything he'd done for her.

Harry paused, rolling her question around his head before answering. "You'll be alright," he assured her, "Jus' don't want you to take too much, or anything, that's all."

The idea of taking too much scared her more than the other rules. She didn't know what too much was; how would she know if there was too much in her lungs, how would she know if she needed to pull back?

"Can you help me?" she murmured, worry lacing through her tone.

"I can hold it for you if you want?" he offered, though his option didn't seem so concrete as she had hoped.

"You can't do more?"

A small silence sat between them when he didn't answer right away. She looked to him, finding him looking at the joint between her fingers with a contemplative crease between his brows.

"I might have an idea that we can try," he started, flicking his gaze to match hers. "Y'trust me, right?"

Her nod was immediate.

A small smile folded his lips as he took the joint from her hand. He brought the roll to his lips, taking in another deep inhale with his eyes fluttering as his chest expanded. The cherry brightened as he pulled in the smoke. As soon as he pulled it away from his mouth, he spoke to her in a muddled voice, a small streak of smoke escaping through his nose.

"C'mere."

(Y/N)'s eyes rounded out in confusion. She was already right here, right?

The arm Harry had thrown across her shoulders slithered around her form until his palm came to a cradle on her cheek. He pressed forward then, his lips parting just enough for (Y/N) to get the hint.

He wanted to kiss her.

Fluttering her eyelids to a close, she leaned forward in an attempt to meet him halfway. Harry, with his hand on her cheek, stopped her short, a small distance left between them.

With her eyes opening to slits, she found him looking to her with his own gaze trained on her lips. His tender hand on her cheek shifted until his thumb was resting in the full of her bottom lip. Tugging just slightly, he parted her pout into a small gape. Harry ripped his head, leaning just that much closer with his pursed lips.

(Y/N) held her breath, her own mouth parted open as she felt soft plumes of smoke fan over her lips. His lips just barely grazed her own, pressing against the soft pillows as the smoke ghosted over her tongue, heady and thick.

Pulling away just enough with smoke still twirling around his features, he told her, "Breathe in, baby."

His voice was still heavy in his throat, emulating the way he spoke in the morning. The detail gave (Y/N) something to focus on as she instinctually closed her mouth as if biting down, the smoke now contained to a thin veil between them. He kept his hand steady on her cheek as she inhaled the way she saw him do, her chest bloating as she filled her lungs with the gifted smoke.

While she didn't feel the burning in her chest that she thought would accompany the smoke, she instead felt a thick heat in the back of her throat. She tried to mimic what she had seen Harry do, keeping the smoke in her lungs for a moment before exhaling, but she couldn't keep up when she felt her eyes begin to water.

Unable to handle it much longer, (Y/N) released her breath in clumsy pants, embarrassed to be reacting so intensely right in Harry's face. Though, all he did was stay steady in his spot by her, thumbing at her chin and coaxing her through it.

Tipping her head down, she finally coughed into her sleeve, eyes watering as she went with his hand falling to the slope of her neck.

"'S alright, baby, jus' let it out," he murmured, his voice a gentle soothe, "You'll feel better in a second, love."

By the time she regained her breath, there was a slight glaze over the back of her throat—not quite a tingle, but not entirely normal. Harry tipped his head down by then, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth with his palm spanning the shelf of her collarbones.

"Y'alright?" he murmured, ever patient when he pulled away to match her eyes.

Nodding her head, (Y/N) swallowed around her odd throat. "Was that alright?" she croaked, wet bottom lashes grazing the height of her cheekbone.

A fond smile molded Harry's features into soft curves. "Y'did jus' fine, lovebug. So proud of you for not getting scared," he praised her, thumb running over her warm skin, "Feels a little weird doesn't it?"

(Y/N) didn't have to think before she nodded her head, watching as he ashed the joint they had probably let burn for just a touch too long. "Really weird," she told him earnestly, "My throat feels funny, but that's all so far."

"Yeah? Want to keep going?" His eyes skated over her features, taking in every reaction, every minute stretch of her muscles.

While she was sure there was something that would hit soon, she still felt comfortable enough to take a little more from him. (Y/N) answered with a small nod.

"Same way we did before?"

Remembering the feel of his lips glancing across hers, the faint brush of the tip of his nose over hers, she could feel her skin simmering. "Yeah," she answered, hoping he thought the breathy quality of her voice was a lingering side effect of her coughing.

He didn't look entirely fooled when that sly smile touched his lips. "Alright," he said, bringing the joint back up to his lips, "We'll do a couple more, then I think you're done, baby. That alright?"

"That's alright," she murmured, "Thank you."

This time, watching him taking in the long drag, (Y/N) knew what to expect when he turned to her. She allowed him to hover close enough that he was almost kissing her as he blew out another plume of smoke for her to inhale. When she took her time filling her lungs with the smoke, Harry tipped his head and smeared his lips over her cheek, kissing down her neck.

She had more confidence this go around, coaxing herself through as Harry held her. That thick feeling in the back of her throat intensified as she closed her eyes, her chest expanding under her borrowed hoodie.

"Doing good, baby," he murmured into her ear, pulling away to match her gaze, "Go ahead and breathe out, love. I think you're good."

Following his direction, the lavender smoke twirled between them. Sucking in clean air, she filtered out her lungs. This time around, opening up her eyes to look up at the moonlight and the stars blinking over the inky canvas, things felt different. There was a bit of lethargy to her movements, even in the darting of her gaze. Her limbs felt as if there was extra weight attached, something heavy that slowed her before she even had a chance to move.

It was an odd feeling, something that she'd never experienced before or had anything of comparison to, but it wasn't unpleasant. She'd even say she liked it so far.

Harry seemed to pick up on the fact that she was edging into new territory as he watched over her, eyes sparking from amusement. "One more?"

"Yeah," she settled, her lips feeling looser the more she sunk into the moment, "One more."

"Wanna try by yourself?" he asked, taking his own small puff from the joint before he was angling it towards her.

"Not by myself, no," she argued, still scared to be in charge of her own dosing.

"I can hold it for you if y'want—take it back when you've had enough," Harry offered, letting a cloud leave his lips as he spoke.

"Okay," she nodded, taking on his offer.

"Open," he instructed, setting the filter of the joint between her lips, "Then jus' suck in, okay? You'll be able to feel it in the back of your throat, so stop if you've had enough and I haven't taken it back yet."

(Y/N) wrapped her lips around the filter, taking in Harry's directions with absent ears. She couldn't imagine he wouldn't be able to catch herself and her intake before he did.

Emulating what she'd seen from him before, she sucked in, her cheeks hollowing just enough to show off the shape of her cheekbones. The back of her throat warmed, embers igniting in a low burn. This was more than what Harry had given her before, but she didn't mind. This would be just enough,she figured.

At the perfect moment, Harry pulled away prompting her to breathe out the final cloud of smoke. He asked the joint once more, a small pile of grey dust having collected at their feet.

A few huffed coughs fell from (Y/N)'s lips, unused to the feeling of gathering the smoke directly from the source. Harry wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his side as she eased through the final intake.

"How do you feel?" he asked her, voice low under the moonlight.

Looking around, (Y/N) tried to find the answer to the question.

It was an odd feeling, she decided. She felt both light and heavy at the same time, her head in the clouds with her body entirely anchored to the ground. Prickles poked at her skin, her limbs their own entity as she brought her hands into a bundle in her lap.

There was no other way to describe it other than the fact that she felt high.

"Good," she answered simply, "Different."

"You'll get used to it, my love," he murmured into her ear, pressing a soft kiss to the space just before.

"Do you feel different?" she asked, her voice heavy in her dry throat.

"A little," Harry explained, stubbing out the cherry of the joint, "But, I think 's time we get inside before either of us freezes, don't you think?"

"Yeah, yes."

It was when Harry let out a small huffed laugh that (Y/N) couldn't contain her own laughter. A loud peal fell from her lips. She wasn't even sure why she was laughing. That only made her laugh harder.

—————

"That is so funny," (Y/N) giggled to herself, clenching her hands in the fabric of her top lest she forget they were there. "Harry, did you see that?! It was funny!"

He was back in the kitchen, working over the stove with a pot of noodles boiling away and a cheesey sauce working on the other burner, leaving (Y/N) to watch this movie all on her own.

"Which part, baby?" he asked, his rumbling voice sounding farther away than she remembered.

(Y/N) blinked, watching the brightly colored animated characters go across the television screen. "The one that was just on! With the cat on the piano!"

How could he not have been paying attention? (Y/N) had never seen something so entertaining before, if she was being honest. This had to be her new favorite movie—she just needed to remember what it was called.

"Oh," he sounded, "I did see that, sorry, lovebug. It was very funny."

"Good," she responded absently, craning her neck to look over the back of the couch towards where he stood in the kitchen, "I'm so hungry, H."

"I know," he laughed, looking at her with his skin seemingly glowing and the smile of a prince. "'M almost done, okay?"

"How close is ‘almost’?"

His smile only widened at her line of questioning. (Y/N) mimicked that look without a thought.

"About five minutes. Can you wait that long?"

"I'll try." She couldn't help the pout that took her features. She had told him she was hungry what felt like hours ago, and she still was waiting for food. He wouldn't even let her help either, but she could argue that she would have eaten already if he just let her follow him to the kitchen.

Raising his brows, Harry fixed his attention back on the television screen. "Oh, look. The little cat is back, baby."

(Y/N)'s attention took a one-eighty as she did the same to face the TV once more. Harry was right, the kitten was back on screen. She didn't want to miss this.

The high had hit her at full force only minutes after Harry had taken her inside, setting off a firing squad of so many different feelings (Y/N) had never experienced before. She had so much energy, but at the same time she wanted to sleep. She wanted to kiss and hold her boyfriend, but also had to make a point to remember where her limbs were. She wanted to eat and drink as much water as she could, but couldn't find the attention to do either of those things. In the back of her mind, she even debated on writing some for the course paper she needed to work on before the midterm exam next month—her mind swirling with ideas, but they were all out of order.

How she decided on watching a movie instead of any of her other raucous ideas, she wasn't sure, but she was happy with the choice. This way, she was able to wrap up in the soft pink throw blanket that she left in his bedroom, sink into the new feeling, and make out with Harry when he was done cooking.

(It had really been Harry's prompting and prodding that led her to the conclusion that yes, she wanted to watch a movie and cuddle up with him while she ate, but he was happy with letting her assume it had been her own choice).

Time moved in mysterious ways since the high had hit, making it hard to decipher if it had been five hours or mere five minutes before Harry came to her with bowls of pasta and a buttery warm sauce poured over top.

"That looks so good, H," she bubbled, overjoyed at the sight of food, "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome, baby," he smiled, "Do you need more water?"

"No, just—Hold on." (Y/N) stumbled over her words, organizing her thoughts as steadily as she could and ultimately failing in favor of reaching towards Harry.

The second he settled into the cushion at her side, she had his jaw cradled in her palms, lips puckered and pressed against the corner of his mouth. A laugh bubbled through his lips, his smile felt under her kiss.

"I missed," she laughed along with him, pulling away to watch his eyes light up and creases form around his smile, "Sorry."

"'S alright," he beamed, cheeks still cradled in her palms, "Jus' slow down and try again."

Though she didn't exactly have the wherewithal to follow his directions, she definitely tried her best. This time, she felt as if she went slower as she leaned in, pressing her lips to Harry's. He reciprocated her affection in soft kisses, (Y/N) melting the longer she reveled in his touch.

Her skin practically sang everywhere he touched her, taking her back to her wonderings of if there would be something extra to their affection while under the influence. That prickling that she had felt in her limbs just when the smoke started taking effect, now only occurred when he ran his fingertips over her skin or held her hand in his. The buzzing made her smile into the kiss, the pinpoint tickling under her skin.

"What's got you so smiley, hm?" Harry asked against her mouth, pulling away despite the tender hold she had on his cheeks.

She beamed up at him with an easy grin, a rose colored glaze over her vision of him. "I just like touching you," she told him, "It tickles."

He raised his brows in reaction, biting back a smile. "It tickles?"

Watching the clear amusement on his face, (Y/N) couldn't help her own smile from turning into bubbling laughter. "Uh-huh," she barely answered, everything else dissolving around her laughter.

"Now, why are you laughing?"

Harry's investigation only proved to make the entire moment funnier to (Y/N) as she doubled over. Snuggling into his chest, she clung to him with her laughter muffled against his shoulder. "I don't know," she giggled, barely sure that the words even left her brain.

"Oh, lovebug," he crooned, wrapping his arms around her, "What am I going to do with you?"

A contented smile landed on (Y/N)'s features as she settled down. She burrowed against him, smushing her cheek on his shoulder and bundling her arms between their bodies. "Love me."

The tip of Harry's nose skimmed the top of her head. "I already do that," he told her, words fanning across the strands of hair crowning her.

"I love you too," (Y/N) answered simply.

The cryptic sense of time she held struck once again when Harry drew away from her. Her body had relaxed into his as if she had napped on him for hours, but she could have been nestled in his arms for a max of three minutes for all she knew.

"Are y'still hungry? Or do y'want me to save your noodles for later?"

With that, (Y/N) swore her mind had been blown. "You brought me food, I totally forgot!" Twirling too fast for her brain to keep up, she was almost dizzy by the time she saw the bowl of pasta Harry had set in front of her, complete with salty cheese layered on top just like she asked. "That looks so good, H! Thank you."

Harry gave her a small smile. "You're welcome, baby."

A minute sense of deja vu niggled in the back of her head for just a second, but (Y/N) chose to ignore it in favor of twirling her fork through the spaghetti noodles.

Had cheese always tasted this good?

—————

"Harry, are you listening? This song is beautiful."

"I know, love. 'S perfect, huh?"

The drawl of Harry's response had (Y/N) peeking up at him. She found him lying with his eyes closed, mouth parted in a small gape, though his hand on her back never slowed the soothing circle he had curated.

"Are you tired?" (Y/N) whispered.

A slight smile touched the corner of his mouth at her question. "A little. Are you?"

(Y/N) paused, evaluating herself to give him an honest answer. "Yeah. A little." His heartbeat was set to a soothing pace under her ear, slowing into a steady rhythm as if urging him to sleep. "Are you almost asleep?"

Though she could see his eyes were closed and his breathing was coming in soft puffs, Harry didn't slack on the duties he had taken on for the night. Since pulling her to bed and setting a playlist to softly sing through his bedroom, he had kept his cuddling hold on her firm and anchoring. He answered her every time she spoke to him and even crawled his way to the bedside table to skip the song whenever she started to whine over the melody.

"A little," he smiled, his voice a deep rumble, "Are you?"

Another pause. "Maybe," (Y/N) answered honestly. She could fall asleep right now if she wanted, but she also wanted to keep listening to music.

Harry hummed, his chest vibrating under her cheek. "Is there anything y'want before y'get sleepy? More water or a snack?"

What did she need before she could peacefully fall asleep?

Blinking her gaze up at him, she took in the tip of his nose, the curving pillow of his cupid's bow and the creamy texture of his skin.

"A kiss? Please?"

At that, Harry cracked his eyes open to peer down at her. "Y'haven't had enough of those yet?"

"Never," she answered, completely honest. Harry still plucked a smile onto his lips at her response.

"Can't blame you, darling—me neither."

Shifting between the sheets, Harry used his free hand to cup (Y/N) cheek and tip her chin as he dipped down. He sealed his lips over hers in a loving kiss, nothing more than a soft pressing of their lips. She swore she could feel every ridge, every dip, every plane of his touch, catalogued to her memory though she hoped she would recall it in less fuzzy detail.

"Love you," she murmured between breaths, immediately planting her lips across his once more.

Harry smiled into the contact. He broke the rhythm of her kisses even further when he drew away, ignoring the way she chased after him with a craned neck and puckered lips.

"I love you too, lovebug." His eyes scanned over her features not for the first time that night, though something softened in his gaze. "You had a good time tonight?"

Walking through the lavender veiled events, everything was just a bit hazy and herbal, (Y/N)'s smile only grew.

"Uh-huh," she beamed up at him, feeling herself settle into him that much more, "Thank you for showing me."

Thumbing at the height of her cheekbone, Harry surged forward to press a delicate kiss to the bridge of her nose. "'M happy y'feel good, darling. That's all I want when we try new things."

"I'm always happy when I'm with you."

(Y/N) blinked as she saw his face light up with a bubbly smile, creases appearing by his eyes, dimples thumbed into his cheeks, and a slight flush over his nose.

Had his smile always been that pretty?

—————

eeeek! so happy I could get a new aster blurb out for everyone this year! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and lmk if yu have any ideas for anything you'd like to see!

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asapeveryday · 4 months

Text

SHOCK FACTOR ★彡 PART 4

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing

A/n: I hate this ngl 😣 didn’t turn out that great. I swear I’ll do better

Prev. Next.

“ITS TEN PM, why the fuck are you at my hotel right now?”

Elaine gives an unbothered look at your harsh tone, which shocks you because she’s usually more reactive.

“Seriously?” You scoff. She’d been standing stupidly outside of your door for god knows how long, spamming your phone with messages you didn’t see due to Paige taking it. “You don’t even have a key to my room…what did you think you’d accomplish?”

“It’s a Saturday night, I thought I’d take you out.” She rolls her eyes. “Plus I know your teammates are partying right now. Sorry I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“Well maybe I would’ve liked to be alone, since I didn’t answer the 40 texts and calls you gave me.” You say, opening the room up and stepping inside, letting her follow behind. If you were going to argue it wouldn’t be in the hallway for everyone to hear.

“Well you weren’t alone, were you?” Elaine quips with a rude tone that is foreign for you to hear from her.

“So what if I wasn’t?” You narrow your eyes. “I didn’t come to Connecticut just to see you.”

She’s immediately stung by this, and you feel bad for a split second until she retaliates. “Well you came to Storrs for me, right? Unless you were just trying to fuck Paige Bueckers and leave. You and your little fake arguments, you sure you’re not covering up for something?”

“You’re kidding.” You laugh at her, but it’s uncomfortable. “You think I’m faking my arguments to cover up some elaborate hookup? Shit, you’re crazy.”

“I’m not fucking crazy,” Elaine voice raises above yours, clearly hurt by the comment. “I don’t know why you’re all over the chick, and going out to dinner with her? It’s weird.”

“I don’t know why you care so much. That’s what’s weird.”

“I just think you should keep your distance from Paige.” She says, quieter. “The media has been all over you two, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but it’s overwhelming.”

“Obviously not if I don’t know this already.” You raise your eyebrow. “Guess it’s been overwhelming for you though.”

Elaine is quiet for a moment, arms crossed in an attempt to comfort herself. “I’m sorry.” She says. “I guess I’ve just been jealous. You came to see me after like a year, and I kinda felt like you were more focused on Paige then me.”

At the thought of this you immediately feel awful. You hadn’t seen Elaine for a long time, and when you have been with her you were admittedly distracted.

“I’m sorry Lainey.” You sigh out. “I haven’t been here long…It’s just been a lot. We have the rest of the week.” You hold out your arms and she gladly hugs you tight.

“I’m not gonna lie,” you mumble against her “I thought you were mad about Paige for a whole other reason.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” You shake your head, brushing off the thoughts of her jealousy being a little different from how she explained. “Let’s go out. I need a drink.”

You tried to go out and have fun, but your mind kept wandering to earlier. Paige’s hands on your face, her mouth hovering above yours, her eyes staring through you. The memory of her knuckles white and wrapped around the steering wheel as she drove you back home, a pent up expression on her face.

You weren’t sure if she was so annoyed because your moment with her was interrupted, or because Elaine was the one who interrupted it. Despite Paige dismissing your friend, and Elaine seemingly missing your company, you knew there was something going on between them. You just weren’t sure what, and the shots you’d done didn’t help collect your thoughts.

Elaine had been with you for a bit, but eventually went off on her own to get detrimentally more drunk then you planned on getting. You were sitting at a table alone and sipping when you got a notification.

paigebueckers is going live!

You switch to a burner account before joining the live and being greeted with Paige’s straight face reading comments while KK hung out in the background. You felt pathetic watching her live anonymously, but you needed to see her.

“Someone said ‘Ain’t it too late for ya’ll?’” Paige scoffs, turning to KK

“Girl, it’s a Saturday. Who you think we are?” KK quips back, enticing a chuckle from Paige that makes your stomach flutter.

They take turns answering questions; Paige gracefully dodging the less appropriate ones and KK occasionally reading something that makes everyone go crazy. They were so funny together you almost forgot how sad it was that you were in a bar watching their live.

KK looks at the chat for a longer moment before her eyebrows raise, mouth forming an amused smirk while glancing at Paige, who is turned away from the phone and looking at something off screen.

“Aye Paige, someone said ‘u still beefin’ with (name)?’”

Paige flashes a dangerous look to KK who unsurprisingly cowers a bit, but she turns towards the camera and rubs her face sheepishly while responding. “S’ not really beef. We jus don’t get along.”

“Oh?” KK responds, this obviously being news to her.

Blue eyes finally meet the camera, and you almost feel like she’s staring right at you when she says “and I’m tired of people comparing me to her. We are not on the same level.” Paige lets out an entitled huff. “It’s embarrassing. People think just cus we talked like twice we’re equal.”

KK nudges her quickly. “She don’t mean that ya’ll.” She says nervously.

“Nah, I do. I mean she’s not bad. She just don’t got nothing on me.” Paige shrugs. “She’s boring. No shock factor.”

“Aight ya’ll I think that’s it for tonight.” KK says curtly, eyeing Paige. The live ends in an instant, and you’re left feeling hurt, embarrassed, confused and angry. This didn’t feel like an attack on your skill as a basketball player. It was more personal, and Paige knows it.

Your mind is racing from the countless drinks, loud atmosphere and eventful live you’d just watched. You shoot Juju a text and ask her to go live with you, and she surprisingly responds in an instant. The viewers are scarily high right from the get go.

“Who came here from Paige’s live?”

“Ain’t no way she’s at a bar rn”

“Aye (name) how’s Connecticut?”

“lowk think her and Paige are hooking up”

“juju can you say hi pls”

“Hey guys.” You mutter, attempting to steady your voice. Juju raises an eyebrow at your state. “You sure you shud be on live right now?” She asks. “Who’re you even with?”

“Never mind that.” You shake your head, reading through the comments. “Hiii guys. Connecticut’s alright, Storrs is a shithole though.” You laugh.

“Missing California?” Juju asks.

Sighing, you reply “Very much so.”

“Sooo, let’s talk bout your new friend!” Juju smirks, most probably unaware of Paige’s newest comment about you.

“And who would that be?”

“Paige Bueckers, duh. Must be nice to see her in person outside of the court.” Juju says innocently, not paying attention to the increase of questions in the chat concerning Paige’s live.

“Nice isn’t quite the word I would use.” You grumble, and Juju immediately seems to regret bringing it up. She tries to save the situation by asking something else, but you interrupt her. “I think the word disappointing…or maybe shitty fits better.”

“Hah, you’re funny.” Juju attempts to seem amused, but is clearly trying to figure out how she can work in some damage control. She furiously types something out and you get a message from her a moment later

JUJU-KINS 😘

Girl get tf off of live RIGHT NOW and get yo self home and in bed. Ur so drunk.

Seen.

Ignoring the text, you continue to read questions out loud. Your body is practically on fire and you’re aware that you’re not thinking straight, but there are no intentions of stopping now. Paige certainly couldn’t have enough of talking big online, so why should you?

“‘Weren’t you just with Paige at a coffee shop yesterday?’” You read out loud. “Not intentionally.” You huff, eyebrows narrowing. “The girl can’t accept I’m tryna have a peaceful vacation. For whatever reason I keep seeing her everywhere, it’s not even funny, just fucking weird.”

“(Name) I think we should put the phone down.” Juju says quietly.

“Mm, it’s not even my problem she thinks ‘m boring anyways.” You grumble, words starting to slur. “Mayyybe I’m boring cus I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk to her n her shitty Italian restaurant.”

The chat begins to blow up at this, and it finally hits you how much damage you’ve just done. “M’kay bye.” You rush out, quickly ending the live and texting Juju back.

YOU

howw fucked am i scale of 1-10

JUJU-KINS 😘

We not even in numbers anymore atp.

Get yo ass up and go home pls. This is an issue for tmr now

Your head is starting to pound as you get up from your spot and push through people in search of Elaine, thankfully she finds you first, half stumbling-half intentionally bumping into you. She’s obviously wasted.

“Ready to go homeee?” She hiccups, accepting your hand as help to balance herself. “I’m gonna call an Uber.” You reply. “Can we wait outside?”

The two of you practically tumble out of the bar, the cold air slightly sobers you up, and clarifies your thoughts a bit. You feel yourself start to get irritated.

“Do you have to get so fuckin’ drunk every time we go out?” You huff out.

“Don’t start.” Elaine snaps. “You’re literallyyyy slurring your words.”

“At least I can walk,” you scoff. Your head is absolutely aching now, and you’re dying to be home. “You look so stupid tripping around.”

“Well you look stupid feining over Paige, goin live n shit talking her.” She retaliates.

“I’m not feining for shit.”

“You’re obsessed.” Elaine slurs. “N’ I’ll tell you what. She’s going to play your ass and you’re never gonna get over it, cus that’s what she does.”

“You know way more about her then you let on.” You narrow your eyes, unsurprised when she avoids your gaze. “How’d you even know I was out with her today anyways?”

She’s quiet, you can’t tell if she’s thinking or if she’s genuinely ignoring you.

“Elaine.” You say sharply. “How the fuck did you know I was out with Paige?”

“I have her location.” She mumbles.

“What?”

“She still shares her location me.”

“She still…” you pause, attempting to understand what she’s saying. “She shares her location with you?”

“I mean, I don’t think she knows she hasn’t turned it off.” Elaine says sheepishly. “I just happened to check n’ I saw you guys together.”

“This is so fuckin’ weird.” You scoff. “What happened to you guys barely knowing each other?”

“Yeah, well that’s what I told you.” She rolls her eyes.

“And what didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.” Elaine shrugs, eyes heavy.

“We used to fuck.”

The immediate regret on her face as the words leave her mouth makes you sick to your stomach, and a swirl of unintelligible emotions begin to manifest inside of you.

“And you didn’t tell me this because?”

“Didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“Why’d you try to get me to flirt with her that first day at the bar?”

She shakes laughs and her head. “Didn’t think you’d actually end up talking to her, didn’t think she’d be so interested in you either. You’re not really her type.”

Exasperated and unsure how to even articulate what you’re feeling, you simply bring your hands to your face. “Do you understand how fucking weird this is?”

“Don’t get so frustrated.” She scoffs. “You’ve talked to her for like three days, n’ you thought she was a dick before this week. Don’t tell me you’re into her now.”

“It’s not even about her at this point.” You sneer. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, and I don’t know why everyone here is fucking obsessed with lying.”

When she doesn’t respond you take the opportunity to get more in, facing her now and looking down in disappointment. “I didn’t even know you liked girls, and now you’re telling me you’ve been hooking up with someone I know? God, it makes sense now why you were so quick to start insulting her the minute she showed any interest in me.”

Elaine can’t even bring herself to look at you, and the fact that she’s so drunk she might not even be digesting what you’re saying is infuriating you.

“Then you guilt trip me about not paying enough attention to you? Was that really what was bothering you, or was it the fact that she was out with me?”

Taking a deep breath, you turn your back to her and check your phone to see when your uber was coming. You also see a text message.

PAIGE

Normally you’d have ignored any message from her after today, but your mind was still racing from adrenaline and you couldn’t help but respond.

YOU

what do u want

PAIGE

Are you still at that bar?

I feel like we shud talk

YOU

you gonna tell me why you lied to my face?

i’m with Elaine rn

PAIGE

Oh uh…

I can pick both u guys up and drop her off ? If u want.

YOU

i’m not riding in the car you prolly fucked her in

bye

PAIGE

Typing…

#Spotify #fanfiction #fanfic #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #rpf #paige bueckers x reader #uconn women’s basketball #paige buckets #paige x reader #rivals to lovers #rivalry #light angst

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

Note

Jason with an Author!S/O and he worships the ground they walk on. he’s almost always begging to read drafts and small pieces, regardless of the content. he treats his copies of his partner’s publications like just the smallest trouble will destroy them. and if his partner writes about him? sappy love poetry about HIM?? he might as well die again, this time happily.

(the creative writing major brain is going bonkers.)

I’ve left this on the back burner for far too long, sorry about that and I just wanted to add on the stuff you’ve already said with things of my own cuz I like this idea so much!

Jason w/ an author!s/o who must add a character of his likeness and personality into almost every book they’ve ever made but changes his name to keep people from catching on. Jason however noticed this and gets a little flustered at the fact that he has been inserted into everything you had ever written, but he’s flattered too as he’s teasing you about how great this character you made up sounded from time to time.

Jason w/ an author!s/o who asks him for advice on how the story should continue and where certain characters should be by the end of it. Jason is more than happy to help you with the new novel however he could, which often leads into you both stayed up late brainstorming ideas until you got the one that suited your story just right.

Jason w/ an author!s/o who leaves heartfelt and personal messages inside of Jason’s own copies of your published works just to see him smile and smother your face in kisses out of pure happiness. He loves them dearly but refuses to touch them now in fear of bending and or ripping the cover by accident.

Jason w/ an author!s/o who often writes about him in your spare time and in the most romantic of settings too that it was enough to have Jason blushing up to the tips of his ears. He keeps them tucked in a box somewhere to read to himself later on while you slept peacefully against his chest. He loves these mini stories you’ve created for him more than anything and felt blessed that you even went out of your way to do something as sweet as this.

Jason w/ an author!s/o where you always have him in either your acknowledgments or dedications of each of your books, siting him as your inspiration and your motivation to keep writing when you felt like giving up because you punctuated a sentence wrong. Jason has never felt more appreciated in his entire life when you do this for him as he felt as though he had died (again) and went to heaven.

Jason w/ an author!s/o who thinks that your writing style can’t compare to the authors that Jason has read before and feels a little insecure about your own writing, thinking that it’s bad, but Jason will always pick you back up by saying he loves your method of writing stories as it allows him to escape reality for a while and that’s all he needs for a story to be good. That and he had an unhealthy bias towards you and Jane Austen. He won’t read anything else unless it’s by your hand. He vows this but you think he’s being dramatic. (He’s not, he’s very much not.)

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagines

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sarawritestories · 7 days

Text

Serenity Found

Cassian X Fem Reader

Summary: A quiet night in, causes the General of the Night Court to Reveal his true feelings to you.

Content Warning: None

Word count: 592

A/N: I'm sorry I keep promising things and not delivering. I'm juggling a lot and writing has been put to the back burner so much so I cried about it today. So here is a cute fluffy drabble for you. If you see any mistakes...no you didn't.

Dividers by the beautiful @tsunami-of-tears

ACOTAR MASTERLIST Taglist Request

The warmth from the flames in the library fought against the winter chill that had blanketed Velaris. Tucked into a blanket, your head finding purchase in the lap of your best friend, The General of the Night Court’s Armies. His fingers were idly gliding through your hair as he read his novel. Looking up at him for a moment; you were entranced by Cassian’s rugged beauty.

Illuminated by the fire crackling in the hearth, his face had a golden glow, his hair up in a bun, a few stray pieces framing his face that now held stubble after going days without shaving. His wings were relaxed against the couch. You fought the urge to press your thumb against the crease between his eyebrows as his Hazel irises focused on his book. Unable to resist the urge much longer you reached up to do just that when his free hand gripped your wrist. “Knock it off.” His tone was light, and a smile appeared causing your heart to flutter. He resembled one of the old gods that Rhys’ mom would tell you about, handsome, kind and exudes raw power off his body. All those attributes describe your best friend of centuries. You were the moment he smiled at you and remained his when he had rescued you from the cruel fate of servitude. If only he realized he had your heart in the palm of his hands.

He remained unaware and you were left with a void in your heart the size of an Illyrian warrior.

The Mother was a cruel vixen.

“Sweetheart?” You blinked and noticed his smile had disappeared, replaced with a look of concern. “Where did you go?”

You smiled, “No where, I just missed you,” You turned back to your own book.

His hand grazed your arm, the soft scrap of his callouses against your skin, causing a shiver to race down your spine. “I promise to not be away for so long. I missed our reading nights. Being near you brings me such…”

“Serenity?” You glanced back to see him give a curt nod. Heat crept to your face at his admission, “Me too.”

Cassian’ lightly pulled your arm so you were facing him once more, “I have a confession to make.”

“Okay?” I rose from my spot to give him my full attention.

“Can I show you?” My head tilted, “Its better if I show you.”

You weren’t sure if your heart was beating, “Of course, Cassian. I trust you.”

Cassian’s Hazel’s eyes held your gaze with an intensity that wasn’t there a moment previously. “Good.” He cupped your face, and, in a moment, his lips were on yours. Quickly grip his waist in your hands he pulled you close. Pulling away before you could deepen the kiss, Cassian wraps a muscled arm around your waist and places his forehead to yours. “I couldn’t keep it in any longer.”

“Cassian.” You whispered your chest warming as the gold thread tethered your soul to his. You pushed him slightly as if you could see the thing tethering you two together. “You’re my-

You looked up to find the General’s face morph from shock to pure happiness, “Mate. You’re mine.”

No longer fighting your urge you slid into his lap and peppered his stubbled face with kisses. “Yours. I’ve always been yours.”

And as the night went on you two sat in the library, in each other’s arms fast asleep. As two lonely souls morphed into one. Calmness falling between them as sleep consumed them.

Finding Serenity at last.

General Tag: @milswrites @lady-of-tearshed @tsunami-of-tears @readychilledwine @ceoofyearning

@velariscalling @daycourtofficial @prythianpages @writingcroissant @itsswritten

@illyrianbitch @acotarxreader @pit-and-the-pen @nocasdatsgay @labyrinth-of-stories-and-stars

@ninthcircleofprythian @thelov3lybookworm @riddlesb1tch @lilah-asteria

@kylaisra @nickishadow139 @aelincaddel @nighttimemoonlover @demirunner

@marvelbros-oneshots @lanea-1 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

#sarawritesstories #cassian x reader #acotar fanfiction #cassian acotar #acotar #cassian x you #cassian imagine #cassian fanfic #cassian fluff #Spotify #general of the night court #general cassian #fluffy

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greynatomy · 8 months

Text

da da da n da da

leah williamson x reader

what can she not do?

literally didn’t know what to title this

whenever i hear this song i think of the princess diaries

———

“Hey, babe!”

“Yeah?” You hear her call out.

“Can you come here for a bit?”

Leah comes into the room, sweat dripping down her face.

“Whats up?”

“I’ve got this song I just came across after how long and honestly I forgot about it.” You grab a guitar from the wall. “Would you like to hear it?”

—

The team was out and about the training center doing their own thing. Leah, not knowing what to do this on pastime, spotted Jen’s guitar at her cubbie. Carefully picking it up, she sits at a her spot, remembering what you taught her.

—

You and Leah were sat in your backyard seating, enjoying the fresh air.

“This one right here is a C chord.”

You each had a guitar, Leah asking you to teach her not long after you’d played the song for her for the first time.

“Like this?” She asks, eyes concentrated on her fingers.

“Move your middle finger down a string. There. Now strum one time for me.”

She strums, the sound was a bit choppy, but not bad for the first time.

“Hey! That’s wasn’t bad at all. You’ll be a two instrument playing girl in no time!”

A blush creeps up on her face, the compliment making her feel a bit giddy.

—

She starts strumming the guitar exactly like how you taught her, stumbling a couple of times.

Da da da n da da, Da da da n da da

—

Da da da n da da da

You were in your studio, finally recording the song that’s been in the archives for so long. Leah wanted to come along to see the process. Intrigued, Leah asked what it felt like to be in the booth.

“Why don’t you find out yourself?”

Leah comes into the booth with you, helping her put the headphones on and giving her forehead a kiss. Exiting the booth, you take a seat next to your producer.

“Try the intro for me, babe.” You press a button, talking to her through the headphones. Turning to your producer, you talk to him on mute to Leah. “Record this for me, yeah. Might come in handy.”

—

“Hey, what song is that?”

“Fuckin’ hell Jen! Scared the shit out of me.” Leah flinches, placing a hand on her chest.

“Sorry.” Jen winces. “But what song is that? Never heard of it before.”

“It’s just something the missus wrote.”

A few days later, the team was over at your’s and Leah’s house for a little listening party. You never liked to do the whole extravagant listening parties that most artists do and wanted to keep it intimate with your friends and family. Ever since you met Leah, the Arsenal team became your family too.

“Alright. So this song has been in the back burner for quite some time and recently rediscovered it. So without further ado.” You click play on your laptop.

You have your eyes on Leah the whole time. From the first note, there’s a recognition in her eyes, eyebrows furrowed trying to figure out what it is. She listens to the song intently, as do the others, mouthing the words.

As the song ends, everyone was saying their praises, cheering you on, but Leah, Leah had tears in her eyes.

“Was that- was that me? Did you put me in it?” She stutters, using the sleeve of her jumper to wipe her tears.

“Well, yeah. You’re my muse so why not add my muse to the song.” You shrug, heat creeping up your face.

She gets up from where she sat, grabbing your face to bring you into a kiss.

“Awww- Ow.”

“Kyra don’t ruin the moment.”

#woso x reader #woso #greynatomy #woso imagines #woso imagine #engwnt x reader #engwnt #arsenal wfc #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso community

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chaotic-mystery · 1 year

Text

Peeping Neighbor | J.M.

ꨄ Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

ꨄ Summary: Mr. Miller is your neighbor and he keeps calling you at the worst time…what could he possibly want?

ꨄ CW: smut! 18+, minors DNI, peeping neighbor! Joel, perv!joel, age gap implied (Joel’s late 30s and reader is early 20s), phone sex, mutual masturbation, pet names, reader watches porn (wxw/wxm) toys used, size kink, foul dirty mouth Joel.

ꨄ WC: 1.7k

(Technically this would be no outbreak!Joel, lived long enough to see smart phones be a huge thing.)

Let me know what you think! Enjoy!🖤

There was nothing good on TV this late at night and you knew that, but you flicked through the channels anyway, hoping something would jump at you and get your attention. Nothing did, it was all boring shit. You turned the TV off and suddenly your room was almost pitch black, the street light outside casting an orange glow against your bedroom wall. As you laid there looking at the ceiling, your mind wandered and before you knew it your hand was opening your nightstand drawer and grabbing your vibrator, going down your shorts. Slow and soft rubs buzzed against your clit while you thought absolute filthy thoughts. You were just getting into the motions when suddenly your phone was buzzing on your nightstand.

10:17 p.m: Joel Miller Calling

For fucks sake.

"H-hello? What's up Mr. Miller?" you sounded a little out of breath and frazzled. shit.

"Hey sweetheart, sorry I know it's late, did I happen to leave my tape measure there from earlier when I was helpin' your dad? I can't find it anywhere.."

Was he serious right now? Why the hell was he worried about a fucking measuring tape this late at night?

You scratched your head and sighed a little too loudly. "No uh, I'm sorry Mr.Miller, I haven't seen it, I'm sorry." god dammit you just wanted to get your rocks off and go to bed.

"Okay, thanks darlin', I appreciate you lookin' for me. Have a good night." He hung up before you could tell him goodnight, weird.

The app of all your saved favorite dirty videos you watch on a burner account, you know exactly which app, was staring you dead in the eye. You clicked your burner account and scrolled until you found your favorite girl on girl video you bookmarked, and your hand turned on your vibrator once more, pressing straight to your clit. The moaning, the kissing, the pussy eating was making you squirm with burning hot pleasure under your own touch. Crazy what a two minute video can do for you. You could see your orgasm approaching rather quickly when once more, your phone starting ringing and the call was flashing over the dirty video.

10:25 p.m: Joel Miller Calling

This is a joke.

"Yeah, Mr. Miller?" there was no hiding your panting this time, or your snappy tone.

"Jus' wanted you to know I found it, was in my truck." There was something else he wanted to say, he was too cheery over a fucking tape measure.

At this point you didn't even turn off your vibrator, why lose the momentum when you were so close? It was however, very distracting to focus on what he was saying.

"Mhm, yeah that's-that's great I'm glad you found it." Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and you almost let a moan out when he said your name.

"Is everything okay, sweet pea? You sound out of breath..and what's that buzzin' sound?" Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You quickly cleared your throat and turned off your vibrator, tossing it to your side. "Oh! Yeah, I'm fine, just doing some stretches before I go to sleep. Buzzing? I don't hear anything, must be your phone. Well I'm glad you found your stuff, but I really have to get some sleep. G'night Mr. Miller!" You hung up so fast he didn't have a chance to say anything.

Sighing deeply, you put your head in your hands and started giggling softly. That was so close. You grabbed your toy one last time and turned it on, pressing it to your soaking wet clit again. Finding another one of your favorites, you watched closely as they started making out, the guy moving down her body and sucking her nipples as he fingers her.

You bent your knees and moved your vibrator up and down along your overwhelmed bud and soft whimpers escaped your lips, eyes screwed shut pretending that was you getting your nipples sucked.

10:31 p.m: Joel Miller Calling

There was ZERO way you were answering for the third time. No, kindly fuck off Mr.Miller. You sent the call straight to voicemail and went back to looking through your catalog of videos. A notification popped up along the top of your phone saying you had one new voicemail. Curiosity got the best of you and you wanted to know what he said. You pressed the phone to your ear and listened closely to the message, vibrator still going against your clit.

"Hey sugar, I didn't get a chance to tell you what I got to see when I went to my truck. You should reeeally be careful with leavin' your curtains open. I was walkin to my truck when I caught a glimpse of you playin' with yourself. Now, It's not a big de-"

You didn't need to hear anymore. Your face was hot with humiliation mixed with anger. You turned off your toy and sat up in bed before you dialed his number back. Who the fuck did he think he was? You heard him pick up the phone and you didn't give him one millisecond to fix his lips to say hello.

"Who do you think you are leaving fucking voicemails like that on my phone?!" you harshly whispered, not wanting to wake up your dad upstairs Joel chuckled and that only pissed you off more.

"Listen to me, pretty baby and listen to me good. I'm gonna help you get yourself off and you're gonna accept the offer because let's be honest here, I've heard you moan my name before when I've come home late and your windows are wide fuckin' open for the whole neighborhood to hear. Now, you dirty lil thing, are you touching yourself right now?"

You never knew your face could get so hot until this very moment. Suddenly all those times you were moaning his name as you were orgasming came rushing back to you, and there was many of those nights. He was attractive, a good face to picture while you came, you admit it. Part of you wondered if this was a joke but the other part wanted to believe he wanted this too.

You took a deep breath and laid back down in your bed, closing your eyes gently. "No, no I'm not, just laying here."

"Ok, I want you to turn on your lil vibrator again like I heard earlier and put it back where you had it, against that pretty lil pussy." His tone was low and seductive, it was hard to stay upset when he sounded so hot.

You did what he said and pressed the buzzing toy against you, moans slipping from your lips. "oo-oh it feels so good Mr. Miller" you whined and pressed harder against the toy.

"Mmmm does it bunny? Would it be better if I was there using the toy against that wet clit of yours while I fuck you? Hm? My hard cock pumping in and out of you while I pinch those pretty nipples of yours and watch you swim in pleasure. Tell you how gorgeous you look wrapped around my cock while I fuck you so good your makeup is running down your face, would you like that baby?" His teasing tone was met with the sound of a belt being undone in the background behind and that added to the images floating in your mind.

"Yes I want that so bad, your cock filling me up to the brim, and I can't take all of it because you're so big. Make me take it all and shove your fingers down my throat before you kiss me, putting your tongue in my mouth. I bet your big cock would feel so good going in and out of my tight hole, Mr.Miller." you breathily respond as the pressure builds in your stomach and goes straight to your clit.

He grunted in pleasure as he took a moment to picture that, and he was breathing heavy now. "Wh-what do you think of when you're cumming sweetheart, why do you say my name? Call me Joel baby."

"Because you're so hot, Joel. I think about riding your face until I cry, I think about fucking you before we'd go to sleep, when we'd wake up, pretty much whenever I'd get a second alone with you. I see the way you undo your belt in your driveway as soon as you get home from work because you want it off so badly and all I can think about is you spanking me with it. " you were being so vulnerable with him, you didn't mean to go into such detail with that answer.

"Fuuuuckkk you naughty girl. You're so fuckin' nasty, I should've called you sooner. Yeah I bet you taste so sweet baby doll. God damn I'd pin you to my face until I'm done eating that pussy. I'd love to have my beard covered in your sweet juices, just glistening before I kiss you to let you have a taste. You want me to spank you with my belt? Throw you over my lap and kiss your ass cheeks before I spank the hell outta them, fuckkk-" he groaned out and you could tell he was close.

"Joe-l I'm gonna cum, i'm gonna fuckin cum right now, oh m-" you squeaked out and you went silent as your body shook with your orgasm. Soft whimpers danced through the phone into Joel's ear and it was enough to send him shooting his load all over his lap like a goddamn water fountain. He was loud when he came, he was cussing and grunting over and over. You laid there in bliss as you listened to him come down from his high, the grunts dying out softly.

"You dirty girl you, I've got cum all over my thighs and stomach. Next time you're feelin' like this, come over. Not like I'm super far." he joked and you laughed with him, replaying what just happened. "I will, Joel. Thanks for the fun. Get some sleep, maybe I'll come over for breakfast tomorrow." you hinted and he gasped slightly. "I better be ready then, shouldn't I? G'night pretty baby."

11:02 p.m: call ended.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #the last of us #neighbor!joel #perv!joel miller #joel miller fic #joel x reader #daddy joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #my writing

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the-thing-withfeathers · 12 days

Text

detention

requested

a/n: yuggghhhh cheerleader!mads brainrot

pairing: cheerleader!madison beer x f!jock!reader

warnings: smuuuut!! cursing, oral & fingering (mads receiving), almost getting caught, public sex.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

“detention!”

your teacher yelled at you as you knocked over the bunsen burner after fooling around with your other teammates. you were meant to be doing an experiment that required you to mix several compounds together.

you and your two other teammates couldn’t be bothered with chemistry, it was one of your weak subjects and you preferred to have fun with it when you could.

when you three mixed together random compounds, you found yourselves creating a concoction that started to overflow out of its beaker. you flooded the entire table with it and while stepping back, you knocked someone else’s bunsen burner & several beakers over.

when the teacher called out your name, you just smiled sheepishly. “sorry miss! we just couldn’t tell which one it was!”

your teacher, ms. johnson, was probably the strictest one in the school, even if it wasn’t your fault, she would have found a way to send you to detention anyways.

“to the principal’s office you go. you need a detention slip and you need to fill out an incident report.” ms. johnson said, grabbing the back of your varsity jacket and throwing you in the direction of the door. “you’ll do detention today after school.”

your girlfriend sat on the opposite side of the room, next to one of the other cheerleaders as well. you walk over to her while walking over to the exit, you lean over the table as an attempt to talk to her.

“i hate keeping my girl waiting but looks like our date is gonna have to wait, baby.” you said, kissing her cheek. you were completely shameless about your love for madison, you wanted everyone to know she was yours at all costs. you revelled in the fact that you managed to get the most beautiful girl in the school to be yours.

“maybe… or maybe not.” she said, her chin being held up by her hand. “i can’t stay away for very long.” she said, biting her lip while turning to look at you.

you looked at her in confusion for a second before you felt the back of your jacket get grabbed again.

your teacher pushed you towards the door, your eyes looked away from madison and at the path in front of you so you wouldn’t trip. suddenly, you heard several instances of glass shattering.

“ms. beer!” ms. johnson exclaimed in fury. beer?!

your eyes shot around to see that madison had deliberately shattered several beakers, holding another one in her hand.

“you two…” the older woman grumbled, “go.” she said, directed at you, “i have to deal with this one here.”

while you got shoved towards the open door, basically stepping outside. you winked at madison, a smirk growing on her face. she matched that smirk and gave you a wave with just her fingers, blowing a kiss right after.

fuck, this girl will be the death of you.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

you had the rest of the day away from madison. your schedules didn’t line up and the principal escorted you to your class so you couldn’t even stall for time to see her at the office.

you sat in the classroom, your homework sitting right in front of you. neither of you had practice today so you were mainly waiting for madison to finish up class, if she had secured that detention from ms. johnson as well.

you thought back to chemistry, a smile growing on your face at how madison would have done absolutely anything to spend time with you. you couldn’t help but be turned on by the idea of rewarding her for it in this very classroom.

the door swung open and there she was, your cheerleader girlfriend in all her glory, escorted in by another teacher to make sure she got there.

ms. johnson was in charge of detention today. she kept you two seperated in different parts of the room. madison was all the way in the front and you were in the very back. that didn’t stop you from staring at her though.

she was testing you. whenever she stretched and her uniform top would rise up a bit too high, revealing the skin of her back. whenever she would shift in her seat and her skirt bunched together or lowered itself, revealing her lacy pink underwear. she was testing how far you were willing to go to please her.

she couldn’t turn around or else she’d get in trouble, she knew that. but she hated not being able to see how hard you were biting your lip to keep yourself contained.

ms. johnson finally cracked and excused herself to go to the bathroom. you knew the staff bathroom was across campus and ms. johnson refused to use student ones.

now was your chance.

you practically sprinted across the room, kneeling down behind madison’s chair.

“hey babygirl…” you whispered, a grin on your face.

“hi there… was it working?” madison chuckled.

“oh yes it was.” you nodded, pushing her hair away from her neck and placing soft kisses. “you’re so fucking pretty.”

“i couldn’t let detention keep us away from each other.” she sighed, craning her neck to let you in closer.

“of course not… i would have missed you too much.” you reached around to grope her breasts over the fabric of her cheerleading uniform. you pulled away for a second. “where did your bra go?” you asked.

“took it off before i came here.” she shrugged.

“you know me too well.” you continued to kiss her neck, your hand slipping under her shirt, massaging one of her boobs.

madison felt heat build up in her lower half, soft moans emitting from her lips. she knew the location wouldn’t stop you no matter how public or risky it was, and she thrived off of the fact that you needed her no matter what.

“c’mere.” you said, standing up and pulling her with you. you pinned her against the teacher’s desk, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. she wrapped her arms around you and tangled one of her hands in your hair.

“are you about to fuck me on the teacher’s desk?” she asked while still against your lips.

“yes. any protest?” you pulled away, lifting the top half of her uniform to free her unrestrained breasts. you felt yourself moan softly upon seeing them.

“no. not at all.” she shook her head. you kissed her again and she pushed your letterman jacket off you. she gripped your arms as you two kissed, she loved how toned you were getting the more you exercised. you lifted her then pushed her down so she was laying on her back on the desk.

you pushed her legs up, bending them so her feet were flat on the desk. you knelt down, you surprised yourself when you realised she wasn’t wearing panties either.

“baby!” you gasped a little. “is that why you took ages to come? were you stripping your clothing away?” you said, running your finger along her soaking slit.

her fingers wrapped around the edge of the desk, she whined softly. “no…! i had class too.”

“too?” you chuckled. “so you were stripping.”

“shut up and just fuck me, will you? we don’t have the time.” madison smacked your arm from where she was, tilting slightly to look at you. “make it quick.” she ordered.

“as my princess wishes.” you leaned forward, wrapping your lips around her aching cunt. your tongue flicked against her clit and you felt her start to rut against your face.

god, she was needy.

you made swift work of sucking and biting her clit, anything to get her closer to her orgasm. you gripped her ankles as you felt them start to shake, planting them down harder so you would have more access. you reached up in between her leg, one of your hands toying with her nipple as you let her noises fill the room.

she was holding onto her other tit, softly whimpering as she ground herself against your face. your nose and chin were covered in her arousal.

“fuck, baby.” she choked out, a sharp inhale following it. “you eat me out so good. love seeing you in between my legs.” her head fell backwards and her eyes rolled into her skull. “feels so fucking good.”

her arousal mixed with your saliva was forming a pool on the desk, you’d never gotten her this wet before. you thought that the risk of being caught at school made it better for her, after all, she loved making sure people knew how good you made her feel.

you slipped two fingers into her hole, moving them without letting her adjust. she gasped, her head jolting up.

“mmmmmm…” she cried out, her bottom lip captured between her teeth. “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” she said with cut off breaths.

“that’s it baby, doing so good. you’ve gotta cum for me now or we’ll both get caught.” you edged her on, feeling her walls clench around your two fingers.

“i wanna get caught with you.” she whispered out through her labored breaths, her chest rising and falling. “wanna make sure everyone knows you fuck me best.”

you chuckled against her clit, you loved how possessive she got at times. the vibrations from your laughter sent her over the edge.

“gonna— gonna cum!” she yelled, her hands flying to your hair and pushing your face deeper into her. “ohh… fuck!” she cried out, her upper body arching backwards as she came all over your face. you stuck your tongue out to help her ride her high out, pulling your fingers out of her and standing up.

you walked over to where her face was, she was practically sprawled across the desk. you put your two fingers against her lips, forcing them into her mouth.

“yeah baby, taste yourself.” you said. her tongue swirled between your digits, licking up her cum.

you heard footsteps approach. you two quickly ran back to your seats. madison struggled, her legs nearly giving out but you assisted her in getting back. she pulled her shirt back down and fixed her shirt. you picked up your jacket and quickly threw it back on, practically falling into your seat.

ms. johnson walked in, glaring at the two of you. you made it look like you were doing work, madison made it look like she was putting her stuff away.

“okay, detention’s over. go home, don’t cause any trouble.” ms. johnson said, leaving the door open for the two of you.

you and madison left the premises hand in hand, her giggling was music to your ears.

“i can’t believe we just did that.” she said.

“i can. you’re too impatient.” you retaliated, nudging her waist with your elbow.

“okay… fair enough. drive me home?” she asked, smiling up at you with all her teeth out. those pleading eyes were hard to resist. “and stay?”

“mmm… how could i ever say no to that?”

“you can’t.” she shook her head at you, biting her lip.

“okay, i’ll drive you.” you gave in to her too quickly.

“perfect… i’ll even give you a little treat for it.”

“y’know, you say that and always end up fucked out.” you joked, tilting your head at her with raised eyebrows.

“i love being fucked out. especially by you.”

“madison! you kiss your mother with that mouth?!” you exclaimed, walking with her to your car.

“what’re you gonna do about it?”

“fill it.”

#madison beer #madison beer x reader #madison beer x f!reader #madison beer x female reader #madison beer smut #madison beer x reader smut #cheerleader!madison beer #madison beer fic

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everythingne · 4 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ one and two, chapter two (ls2)

Forced to move in together, you and Logan slowly fall into an easy routine. It's not hard to act like you love someone when you do, even if they don't believe it, but you'll show him.

logan sargeant x first daughter!reader // fc: yasmin barbieri

warnings/notes: a bit of low self esteem at the end, drinking and cursing, i tried to keep this as fluffy as possible. sorry for the long wait, i made this pretty long to make up for that <3

previous / next

Apparently, according to your father, the best thing for you and Logan would be to move in together. Which... isn't a terrible thought process if you are in an arranged marriage, but you'd met Logan less than a week ago and now half of your stuff was being shipped overseas without as much as a question.

It felt... weirdly demeaning.

Despite the tension raising with your father, living with Logan is quite easy. He's late to bed, an early riser, your seperate rooms down the hall give you both space that's your own while leaving the kitchen and living room for moments where its okay to be together.

Plus, it makes it easier for you to fix your sleep schedule. The difference between London and Washington, d.c. isn’t that big, but it still throws you off for a few weeks.

And because of that, you don’t travel with Logan until the Spanish GP.

By then you’ve settled into life in London and planned your fashion shows and such around his schedule because it was more concrete than any schedule you'd make yourself.

Life in London was wonderful to you, because you able to keep a lower profile than in the states. It was nice to be able to take yourself out for coffee, or to go to your cycling class, or yoga, or pilates—or whatever you’re feeling, without too many cameras.

And you settle into life with Logan quickly.

yn.fdotus

liked by logansargeant, alexalbon, potus, and 987k others...

ynfdotus: cannot believe i let a blonde guy convince me to move from the heart of the states to a bit outside london 🩵

potus: big adventures await!

user1: shut UPPPP THIS IS SO CUTE??

user2: nah bc who convinced her.

lilymhe: yayy!!!! ur so close now!!!!! girls day.

⤷ yn.fdotus: only if @ lilyzneimer joins this time

⤷ lilyzneimer: oh babes im down 🩷

user3: wasn't she at the williams paddock for miami.... and her hug with logan after the race?? ive connected the dots.

⤷ user4: you haven't connected shit.

⤷ user3: i connected them !!

"I'm home!" Logan shouts down the hall of the flat as the door clicks shut behind him, his hand automatically reaching to lock it. You call back a greeting as you check over his meal plan notes once more to ensure you've cooked the food correctly before turning back to look at him as you turn off the burner you're using.

"You had lunch today right?" He asks as he comes around the corner and you nod softly, standing on your toes to grab some dishes out of the top of the cabinet. When your fingers miss the edge of the bowl, Logan's hand comes to your back to keep you still while he reaches up and grabs them for you, before settling them in your hands and kissing your cheek. And eyeing the dinner you're making with a bit of curiosity over your shoulder.

The quick kisses were another thing to help settle into the way you had to act for media. But honestly, they ended up being more of a habit now. But Logan would kiss anywhere but your lips, which sucked, because kissing Logan was like being shocked with electricity. It made you blush, it made your heart stutter, all you wanted was to be with him.

Logan moves back to the counter as you set down the dishes by the stove, and you turn fully to actually take him in now. He's in a hoodie and jeans, having changed after going to the gym, and you smile at him when your eyes meet, then you gasp.

"Oh! Flowers!" You exclaim as he sets down a few bags of groceries and other items you'd asked him to go run out to grab.

"I bought them for you." He smiles, genuinely real, crinkling at the corners of his eyes as you turn around to grab a spoon to get a little bit of the dish for Logan to taste before you plated it.

"Oh, what's the occasion?" You ask as you hold the spoon out to him, and he happily bites the salmon off the spoon with a content hum.

He raises his hand to his mouth and says, "There has to be an occasion? I just noticed the other flowers you have in the house are dying and these were pretty. Also, you cook this shit way better than I ever could."

You laugh out a thank you, and agree the flowers were dying as you turn to plate the food. Logan makes himself busy swapping out the flowers and getting all your little mood lights up so he doesn't have to turn the big light on when the sun finally sets. The big bay windows of your apartment letting in the last fleeting rays of golden sun, and he stands behind you for a moment to admire the way it curls on your skin.

"Hey, after dinner..." You turn, making eye contact with him and pausing at the way the golden glow lights up his eyes. The two of you just pause, sort of staring and taking in the moment before you clear your throat and you somehow manage to pull your eyes away to go set down the food.

"After dinner?" He prompts softly and you turn over your shoulder as he brushes behind you, one hand gently sliding across your back so you know he's there.

"Do you wanna walk to get ice cream? This little gelato place opened around the corner." You say softly, blinking at him with a sort of... awestruck, love filled expression. It makes his cheeks warm as he leans down to press a kiss to your hairline.

"Sure, just don't tell anyone I'm going off my meal plan."

You chuckle softly, moving to sit down next to him at the table, facing the window so you can watch the city around you moving around. Lights flickering on as the night closes in, the silence of the apartment is very soft and welcoming. Dinner is finished pretty quickly and soon you find yourself tugging on a hoodie while Logan finishes up the dishes, and then you both head out.

Walking down the busy but slightly quieter London streets, you wander towards the roadside to look at a flyer. Logan watches as you return to his side, and after a moment of walking on his left, you feel his hand gently take your wrist and bring you to the inside of the sidewalk.

You watch his face soften a little as he takes your hand in his and at a crosswalk, pops a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

And in the moment, you forget all about the gelato, all about London, all about the world around you. In the moment, it's just the warmth of his hands against yours.

yn.fdotus

liked by logansargeant, cambridgeuniversity, potus, and 912k others...

yn.fdotus: got to teach a wonderful group of sustainable fashion designers at @ cambridgeuniversity this morning. while I'm hitching a train ride to barcelona, i'm full of love for all the creatives.

my next teaching event will land me back in the states at @ SCADFASH in savannah during september ! you can book tickets at: scad.edu/yn.fdotus.visit !s

cambridgeuniversity: it was wonderful having you! see you soon!

user1: pls tell me shes going to barcelona for the gp

logansargeant: see u soon miss america :)

⤷ yn.fdotus: you too, captain america 🩵

⤷ user2: SHUT UPPPP????

Coming into the garage, you can feel the tension across the entire building. You glance to your side, taking in Logan's half the garage, before passing over with no hesitance. Dipping through some of the larger groups of workers, you find solace in the drivers rooms. Knocking twice, you hear Logan call for you to come in, and you pop open the door before shutting it behind you.

"Hey." You breathe softly and Logan smiles as he tugs his sleeves on, coming over to press a kiss to your cheek, "good luck out there."

After a few disappointing races, you knew Logan wanted nothing more than to finally smoke out his competition. And he'd been qualifying better and better, but was having an almost George Russel level weekend luck. You figured he might be the next Mr. Saturday.

You'd missed the past two days, busy with your own work, and you note how Logan is clearly at much more ease now that you're by his side.

"Thanks, baby." He murmurs softly, pulling you into a tight hug. You reciprocate without hesitance, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as you do. But theres something stiff that makes you step back, taking his head in your hands and pressing your foreheads together.

"What's a matter?" You hum, rubbing your thumbs under his eyes and hoping and he'll tell you whats up with him. Finally, he sighs and crumbles into your hold.

"I didn't tell you on the phone," Logan murmurs, closing his eyes as he leans into your touch, "I was having steering issues yesterday, they haven't been able to figure out the source of it."

You hum softly, leaning down to peck his nose before settling your foreheads together again, "how bad was it?"

"Not the worst I've dealt with, just some understeering."

"I don't know much about these cars, only what you've babbled at me before," You start with, earning a curious look from Logan as he opens his eyes, "but could it have something to do with your like... what is it, downforce? Isn't understeer or whatever affected by that? Like DRS?"

Logan blinks, then gasps, capturing your lips quickly before whispering, "you're a genius, I didn't even think of that."

And he drags you with him into the garage as he goes to ask about a million questions about his car, you're just happy to tag along with a bounce to your step and your hands intertwined. Alex and Lily are also in the main garage area, making some sort of Tik Tok together, and you suction to Logan's side as he speaks with his engineers.

The answer ends up being something with--not the rear wing but the front wing, or at least they find another issue that might kinda fix the steering issues with some shit like downforce or something... so you count it as a success.

Logan happily pops a kiss to your cheek in thanks as his head engineer gives you a fist bump for thinking of something they'd overlooked, you say its a lot like fashion, how one wrong stitch can ruin a whole dress.

Alex goes on to call you Elle Woods, and you feel like a nickname is cementing in Williams.

Logan goes on to place P6, his highest ranking of the season, which you determine calls for getting absolutely fucked up at the club. Your plan is surprisingly well accepted by the team, and you rent out a little back private room of some club blasting songs from any and everywhere as you drag Lily with you onto the dancefloor.

You're not sure how long you're out there before Logan and Alex are pulling you both back to reality, settling you at the back corner of the bar where you can watch Lando and Oscar betting over something Max and Charles are doing a few feet away. George trying to get Alex to try some sort of liquor, and Fernando chipping in a few bucks to the bet that Alex will like it.

"How much water have you both had?" Logan asks, a beer in hand as he leans on the bar behind you.

"I had two glasses, I think?" Lily says, "I can feel I need more though."

"I'll need more water." You smile, trying to hide the fact you don't remember if you've had water at all tonight. Logan nods, and whisks off to where Yuki has flagged a bartender down.

"You two are so cute." Lily gushes once Logan's out of earshot. Alex coming to stand beside her as he now nurses whatever liquor George was trying to get him to try in an Old Fashioned glass.

"I would've never expected the First Daughter to be dating a dude from Florida." Alex deadpans, offering Lily a sip of his drink, and she's also surprised by how good the drink is.

You laugh softly, tequila on your tongue letting the truth slip, "It's a Public Relations thing."

"What?!" Alex gasps and Lily nearly spits out her second sip of Alex's drink.

"Wait, seriously?!" Lily echoes, "But how? You two are so perfect!"

"And Logan's a shit actor." Alex adds with a tiny laugh. You feel an arm slide around you, and peek to see Logan as he hands Lily a water bottle, and then hands you one as well.

"Well," Logan chimes, "It's more of a like... arranged marriage kinda deal, rather than PR."

"You got in an arranged marriage? What, are you mormon?!"

"Mormon's don't do arranged marriages actually." You hum into your bottle before taking a sip, "And it's because of my father. He thinks, because my brother was a big party guy in his mid-twenties, that I'm gonna be the same way. Which is stupid, because yeah, I'll go and get drunk, but I won't blackout and flirt with a professor."

"Did your brother do that?" Lily snorts as you nod with a loud sigh, leaning into Logan.

"So, we're arranged." You shrug, "Doesn't mean I can't still like the guy. My parents were arranged too, and they literally are sickeningly in love with each other."

"Can vouch for that." Logan laughs softly as you smile up at him and take another big gulp of your water bottle. With Alex and Lily now in on the secret, you feel a bit more at ease, not having to play anything up as much with them.

But the night drags on far longer than it should, with Logan's arm around your shoulders between the hours when the clubgets too busy to really move.

The drivers all plan their escapes around three in the morning, and it's sobering for you to have to literally lean on Logan so you don't fall and die in the halls as you make it back to your hotel room.

"Christ. I didn't know you were worse of a lightweight than me." Logan hoists you up, one arm secure around your waist so you stay cemented to his side as he fiddles with the key to unlock the door. As you both get in, he helps you settle on the bed, taking off your heels for you and letting you curl up in one of the throe blankets you'd brought. He stands, moving back from you to the dresser with a soft yawn.

"Lo, baby," You hum softly and he turns, nodding as you reach out to him.

"It's okay, darling," He says softly, moving back over to kiss your forehead as you cling to his arm, "I'm just gonna get changed and grab you something to wear that isn't... a mini dress."

"Okay." You whisper, tired from the long night, and release him as much as you don't want to. Logan works around you for a moment, getting himself ready for bed before he leans down in front of you and helps you to your feet.

"C'mon. Let's get you ready for bed before you knock out."

Logan takes your hands as he leads you to the bathroom, sitting you on the toilet while he roots through your bag. You clear up which is which product, what order, and how to use them.

Logan takes the oil cleanser, pouring a little bit out and applying it to your face. The only spot he has you do is by your eyes, before he uses a wet rag to wipe it off. While he works you keep trying to wrap your arms around him.

He laughs softly, letting you cling to his side as he tries--bless him, to apply another cleanser to your face to properly clean your face now. Eventually, and after a bit of fighting with you to let go of his torso, he manages to get all of your makeup cleaned off, and skin... semi-properly washed.

"C'mon, pretty girl," he croons softly, brushing a hand across your jaw to tilt your head to face him, "Let's get you in bed, yeah?"

And even though the hotel has two beds, you coax Logan to cuddle with you in your drunk state. And you don't mind being wrapped up by his warm arms when you wake the next morning.

yn.fdotus

liked by logansargeant, alexalbon, oscarpiastri, and 978k others...

yn.fdotus: so. about last night... i don't remember much after the twentieth tequila shot... <3

logansargeant: its ok you have great dance skills

oscarpiastri: thanks for letting me win 20 in that bet

yn.fdotus: oscar. ur on thin ice.

user1: U WENT CLUBBING W THE DRIVERS???

lilymhe: my favorite lightweight <3

After Barcelona, the next race you go to is Silverstone. You've been biting your nails for weeks about this, the upgrades Williams is planning on bringing don't seem to be very... solidified. Logan tries his hardest to seem confident, but it's clear he's more worried than you are.

You do the track walk in Barcelona with Williams, idly tagging along last moment with Lily. It's more for PR, as the cameras snap photos of the four of you (Alex, Logan, Lily, and yourself) dicking around as you walk.

But theres a damper to the mood.

Sure, the weight problems in the Williams car is 'fixed' but it seems like something was taken away... something helpful.

You and Lily settle in the little watch area in the garage, you pulling out your laptop to get some emails sent out before the race, while Lily posts something on her Instagram.

Logan appears with his helmet on, wrapping an arm around you and saying, "Any last words before I get in the car?"

You look over, and pop a kiss to the little part of his helmet covering his lips--leaving a little smudge of lipstick behind as you knock three times on the side of his helmet, "Don't worry about the upgrades. You'll be fine, Lo."

"Thanks, baby." He almost grumbles, eyes squishing from his smile under the helmet. You send him on his way, and Alex scoffs from besides you where Lily is fixing his glove.

"I still don't get how you two claim you're 'just arranged.' Like, I just watched a cute couple moment." He laments, making Lily laugh as she leans back on the couch next to you.

"I'm just a great actress," You shrug, but can't deny the heat that rushes to your cheeks. You and Logan had an undeniable spark, and you acted way too romantic to be platonic even behind closed doors. But you had always just chalked it up to being for the bit, being for the media.

But... had you even done any of this for the media?

Alex bids farewell and you, with a bit of stammer and a blushing face, retire to Logan's drivers room. It's just practice today, so you find your able to get somewhat comfy, turning on the TV to show you highlights as you work in quiet solitude.

You're not sure when you doze off, but when you come back, theres something plush under your head. Blinking, you look up to see Logan, idly scrolling on his phone... with your head on his lap. Your arms are wrapped around one of his legs like you'd snuggled in, and he's thrown his jacket over your legs.

So you close your eyes and move to wrap your arms around his waist instead, and he chuffs out a soft laugh, murmuring, "c'mon, baby."

He hoists you up as he slides down to lay on his side, shifting until he's inna comfortable position. Then he slowly shifts you back into place, your head coming to his lay on his bicep as you bink your eyes open.

"Hi, sleepy." He whispers to you, "Don't worry, I saved your email drafts before shutting your laptop."

"How was practice?" You whisper and he shrugs, kissing your temple as you wrap your arm around his waist and slot your knee between his as usual. Or, your new usual since Silverstone.

"P10. Not terrible." He hums, "you were right about the adjustments. I just wasn't used to the car yet, it made me lag behind."

"You'll do better tomorrow." You murmur through a yawn and Logan draws you into his chest a bit more, firm arm around your shoulder as he lifts his chin to tuck your head under it.

"We have a bit to nap, get some rest." He whispers and you hum back a yes, the warmth of your arranged husband and the soft whir of the world outside pulling you into another nap.

You find later that night that Logan's being overly self-ciritical once again. You do all you can to coax him to at least apathy, but lay awake with his head on your chest (the hotel room now with one bed), thinking.

The next day you sneak down to a corner store to buy a tiny notebook, tape, and glitter pens, and employ both Alex and Benny to help you with your task.

You scrawl the notebook full of reassurances, word even getting to engineers, media workers, analysts, who all take turns writing little notes for Logan (and some for Alex you give to Lily)

And then you spend the time Benny distracts Logan with training to sprinkle them around his drivers room and gear. A tiny smile on your face as the stupid little idea tickles you so much. Even writing one and taping it to his water bottle.

You manage to miss Logan before qualifying, but he drives exceptionally well and ends in Q2. And when he comes back, you have a cold water bottle in hand, something Benny had started giving you to encourage Logan to drink more water.

Cameras follow him into the garage, but cut before he gets to you. His helmet is long since discarded as he leans down to peck your cheek in thanks for the water, taking a few gulps as you ask about the race.

"The race was good, it was... I felt more confident with the car." He swallows another sip of water, "I think we have a good chance tomorrow. Must be thanks to your notes."

You beam when he says that, his hand firm on your back as he holds you close. There's an air around you both for a moment, and you wish the feeling could stay forever.

If only.

He ends up getting track limits on his qualifying run, bumping him back on the starting grid by a hefty amount. You literally cannot determine where he breaks limits, but even with Williams challenging it, the penalty stays. Logan tries to brush it off, to pretend it doesn't hurt him, but you can see the stress in his eyes.

Another night you fall asleep thinking. But other than the notes you already placed, you didn't have any more ideas.

And then he places out of points when Alex snags a podium, in a stroke of luck and a safety car. Logan doesn't take the cold water you offer him, barely greeting you as he slips by to his drivers room, and you try not to feel distraught.

Benny gives him space, as does everyone else, so you follow suit and walk to the paddocks. Which is where you and Logan are finally reunited after the race.

"Hey, baby." You murmur as he walks over, slumping into your hands as you let his face be molded by their grasp, "You drove well."

"I couldn't get around Lewis." Logan murmurs in complaint, and you can feel the pant up anger starting to burn in his cheeks, "if I hadn't been such a fucking dumbass."

"Hey." you chastise, squishing his face before he pulls himself away, "You're not a dumbass, you had a shitty penalty. Lewis is a really good driver, sometimes it's hard--"

"But I can be better." Logan interrupts you, and you go to speak again before he says, "You deserve better."

"What the hell are you talking about? Deserve better?" You ask, stepping towards Logan as he tries to retreat from you.

Logan groans, turning back sharp enough you step back to avoid his shoulder colliding with your outstretched hand. Gritting his teeth, he hisses out, "You can back out of this little arranged thing, stop being so cutesy and so kind and so loving to me, because I don't deserve it. You deserve someone who wins. Because you're so fucking amazing, and I'm just... whatever the hell this is."

You are genuinely shell shocked, but Logan just continues before you squeak out a very soft,

"But I love you. Like I... I genuinely do."

And then Logan goes to backtrack, claiming you're lying and that there no way you actually do. You watch him sputter, scraping for excuses and reasons you're lying and theres only one idea that pops in your mind. Damn the cameras, damn the people around you.

"I am hard to love and you're just gonna hurt yourself trying--" Logan says as you cup his jaw before you press up on your toes enough to lock your lips to his. There's a moment of hesitation before his arm slides around your waist as he breaks to reconnect you properly.

And when you pull back, your cheeks burn as you whisper, "I do love you. And I'd crawl with bleeding knees and palms for years if it meant one day, one day, I can make you see yourself the way I do."

Logan is just staring and you stammer again, "Sorry, was that too much?"

"No." He answers quick, "No, that was what I needed. Do it again."

And you laugh, tossing your arms around his neck to pull him into a proper kiss this time. The scattering of camera flashes like the fireworks you feel in your gut.

yn.fdotus