Chapter Text
Harrow only ever called her a pet name the one time.
They were on Gideon’s couch the morning after the staff party with the sun risen only midway through the sky. The remnants of their fight at the lighthouse had dissolved beneath their hands, between Harrow’s legs, and in the slow rock of her hips as she moved against Gideon’s mouth.
As she kind of moved against Gideon’s mouth.
“Harrowhark,” said Gideon, whose neck was beginning to hurt. “When you agreed to sit on my face—”
“This is sitting,” said the girl on top of her.
“This is a sustained squat.” Gideon reached up to still the motions of Harrow’s waist, watching as she freaked out just a little bit. “Commendable, but you can’t be getting much from this. Nonagesimus. Look at me for a second.”
“I’m going to break your neck,” Harrow ignored her.
“You say that all the time—”
“In a completely different context!” Harrow groaned. It wasn’t the sexy kind of groan. Gideon huffed a sigh, and Harrow’s body twitched, hand shooting out to grab the back of the couch. “Nav!”
“Okay, time out,” Gideon said.
Grumbling, Harrow scooted back to hover over Gideon’s tits, and her face came into view. It was good just being able to look at her like this. Harrow’s brows were furrowed, cheeks flushed as she knelt like a penitent, pinning Gideon between the warm bed of her thighs. Gideon considered that maybe face-sitting was too advanced for them, being as they were much more accustomed to fingering each other in empty staff rooms at work.
“We don’t have to do this,” Nav said. “We can do something else. Or—I can make breakfast? How’s your ass?”
“My ass is fine,” Harrow said. Then she glared menacingly down at Gideon: “Do not say what I think you’re going to say.” Was Gideon getting that predictable? And then Harrow continued, “I just don’t want to—”
“Choke me to death with your thighs?”
“I was going to say hurt you, but thank you very much for that explicit imagery.”
The idea of getting squeezed to a partial heaven between Harrow’s legs was not quite unappealing to her. Gideon wanted to tell Harrow something reassuring, something that would make her feel more comfortable. But her head was empty save for the truth.
The truth: don’t worry, Harrow, I’ve spent the past three years masturbating to a dream I had in sophomore year where you rode my face so hard I ended up in the ER, and yes, I was smiling the entire damn time and you could do anything you wanted to me, and I would lay here and let you, and I would love every second of it.
Something had shifted between them earlier. Harrow’s tongue between Gideon’s legs. Harrow kissing her like she was delicate. Harrow’s nose pressed to Gideon’s neck, her face soft like sleep. And Gideon’s memory ventured further back, unwillingly, to the lighthouse, and further, to the horrific moment at graduation which still burned in humiliation as she thought about it.
“It’s okay, sugarlips,” said Gideon. Her hand fell from Harrow’s side. She rose up onto her elbows. “We shouldn't do anything you don’t—”
Harrow shoved her flat. Rose up over her like a mountain, hands on Gideon’s shoulders.
“I want it,” said Harrow.
Gideon stared up at her breathlessly. “You can have it.”
“Just…” Harrow looked away from her, the bravado leaking out of her voice. “Tell me if it's uncomfortable. Or if you want to stop.” Her face scrunched up. “I killed the mood.”
Lucky for Harrow, Gideon was always in the mood.
“Nah, you didn’t.” When Gideon’s hands clasped the backs of Harrow’s knees, the smaller woman shifted, guided into position above Gideon’s smug face. Gideon promptly turned her head and blew a raspberry into Harrow’s right thigh.
“Griddle.” At least now she sounded begrudgingly affectionate.
“I’ll tell you if I’m uncomfortable. But it’s better when you’re close. Neck strain and all that,” Gideon said logically. Harrow loved logic. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Harrow said.
Gideon pressed an obliging kiss to the side of her knee, palms cupping Harrow’s hips as she started to warm her up again, mouth brushing higher, higher. Experimentally, she scraped her teeth against Harrow’s left inner thigh.
Harrow made a shocked noise above her.
Gideon paused. “You alright?”
“Mmhm!”
Gideon stroked her hands over Harrow’s waist, rough fingers slipping upwards beneath the fabric of her shirt—of Gideon’s shirt, holy fuck, how the fuck did that happen—as she turned her mouth to Harrow’s other thigh, sucking until thin capillaries broke beneath the skin, blooming red. She pressed her thumbs to Harrow’s hipbones and wondered if she could stretch high enough up to lick them.
Harrow gripped at the hem of her shirt, pulling up—
Gideon caught her hand without thinking.
“Keep it on.” Harrow’s gaze flickered down to hers in surprise. Gideon stared back, equally shocked. She could feel herself turning russet. Releasing Harrow’s fingers, her voice turned pleading: “Please.”
To her overwhelming relief, Harrow did not immediately unseat herself from Gideon’s face. Instead, she made a soft noise before dropping the fabric from her grasp. Gideon touched a soft kiss to Harrow’s clit, provoking the barest flinch of her hips before she finally—fucking finally—lowered her weight down, and sat properly on Gideon’s mouth.
“Griddle,” Harrowhark murmured, plunging slim fingers through her hair. Harrow always got handsy when Gideon ate her out, and today was no outlier. Gideon leaned up and licked a path up Harrow’s entrance in shameless greeting.
Harrow’s breath hitched. “Nav. Stop grinning. Oh my god.”
Gideon did not deign a verbal response. Instead she lapped her tongue over Harrow’s clit with teasing, ephemeral strokes. She tilted her face further into Harrow’s warmth, working steadily until Harrow’s hands tightened in her hair and she started to grind down.
Gideon groaned. Harrow misunderstood. “Am I hurting you?”
Gideon snuck a hand between Harrow’s legs, fingertips stroking down her folds. Harrow let out an “Oh fuck,” and a ragged whine as Gideon pressed inside.
Holy shit, Gideon loved this. She loved her life. It was so different to have Harrow this way, her whole body trembling around her mouth instead of just Gideon’s hand. Heat everywhere. How wet she was. Gideon curled her fingers, once, twice, and Harrow pitched forward like she’d been tugged by some invisible strings attached to Gideon’s fingertips. Hands braced on the couch cushions above Gideon’s head, Harrow lifted up off her mouth. And then she just dangled there.
With some difficulty, Harrow said, “I asked you a question.”
“I heard it,” Gideon said roughly. “Come here.”
She yanked Harrow’s hips back down. Her gasp went straight to Gideon’s cunt. Even if Gideon wasn’t about to die from the sheer eroticism of having Harrow on her hands and knees, ass up with Gideon between her legs, then she was definitely going to come from just thinking about it.
Harrow was grinding shamelessly now. Gideon’s eyes fell shut. She was in her happy place. She offered her tongue flat against Harrow’s clit, and let her use it. She was glad for a busy mouth. Who knew the ridiculous shit she would’ve said if her best friend’s pussy wasn’t taking top priority?
Harrow cried out above her. She rocked for three languid pulses before her body went taunt, ass lifting as she pressed her cheek into the couch.
“Gideon,” Harrow murmured.
Gideon put her wet hands to Harrow’s thighs and kept her steady as she licked her through it, carrying her towards another. Harrow’s face left the cushions. The light came down, and Gideon blinked in surprise as Harrow moved, kneeling above her with her head lifted instead of resting prostrate.
Hips rolling, Harrow only whispered, “Gideon.”
So rare was that name from her mouth. Gideon rose up into it like a summon.
“Gideon,” Harrow said. “Darling, please—”
Gideon died briefly of shock.
When she came back, the word from Harrow’s lips was pinning her, utterly new.
Harrow spasmed once more around her tongue. Gideon’s eyes lifted to watch her turn into rain. Darling. Harrow’s meandering hips. Her wet thighs. Everything shining. Harrow gave a cracked protest, and Gideon helped her down, letting her settle atop her waist.
Gideon smiled at her, chin surely glistening. Darling.
She wanted to hear it again.
Gideon traced her leg. “How was that, Nonagesimus?”
Incredibly, Harrow was looking down at her like she wanted more. She leaned down, their chests pressing as she touched the tip of her nose to Gideon’s.
“Do I even need to say it?” Harrow murmured.
Harrow kissed her softly, open-mouthed, as Gideon held her close. All the while her brain screamed yes, yes, yes.
-
r/justlesbianthings ◦ Posted by u/vitaminG 1 week ago
HOW TO GET FWB TO CALL YOU PET NAMES?
I [24F] call my best friend [23F] every pet name under the sun, and she’s only called me “darling” once when we were having makeup sex on her couch after this huge fight because she insisted on climbing to the top of this fucked up lighthouse and nearly broke her ass on a stair. Anyway, I’ve been trying to get her to say it again via sexual favours, chivalry, cooking, being generally hot and charming etc etc but none of it is working. (To be clear, the sex and cooking make me happy. It’s not like I’m just doing it so she calls me names.) Any advice appreciated. Thanks!
quarterpounder 4 days ago
the title of this thread should’ve been “IN LOVE WITH MY BESTIE! HELP!” anyway maybe try talking to her
Powergayde 4 days ago
OP, can you clarify something? Your best friend is your FWB, who you love having sex with and cooking for, and the problem is… that she is not calling you a pet name? Are you sure that is the issue?
lesfruit 3 days ago
Have you tried talking to her with your words?
Junebug 2 days ago
There is so much to unpack here.