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gracieheartspedro · 9 months

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Cool About It

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: you've only patrolled with him a couple times, which made you kind of hate him. but after a night of subtle flirting at the tipsy bison, tons of alcohol, shooting pool, and making fun of some guy's tattoos, you realize you're really into joel. after you get him, you realize maybe you shouldn't want him.

Part 1/3

PART TWO IS HERE

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, drinking, playing pool(?), possible age gap (not specified really), very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, joel is a menace a bit, ellie is also a little shit haha

hi lovers, how's it going? this is going to be a three-parter, inspired by Boygenius' song "Cool About It". it's gonna be smutty in all three parts so be ready (: please reach out if you have any requests or just wanna talk! I'm friendly I promise lmao

Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool

And make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos

Ask you easy questions about work and school

I'm trying to be cool about it

Feelin' like an absolute fool about it

Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

Tellin' myself I can always do without it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

You keep your head held high while you walk into the Tipsy Bison, the only bar in Jackson. You were not familiar with the walls of the establishment, but the plan was to get out of your comfort zone. You were good at being a social outcast, and Maria, the only friend you had here, told you to try to break out of your shell.

So here you are, at a bar.

Immediately you recognize a couple of familiar faces, including the Millers.

Tommy and Joel were the patrol leaders for Jackson. You always felt comfortable around Tommy. He was more laid back and funny. On the couple of patrols you did with him, he always made sure the time went by quicker. While serious in times that are pressing, he brought light to darker situations. Maria, his wife, was the first person to introduce you to life in Jackson. She got you set up in a house by yourself and had you start patrolling when she realized you were an excellent shot. She was kind, always making sure you were looking out for yourself and invited you to family dinners sometimes.

Joel was different.

Very quiet and deadly serious when he was speaking. He made you feel insecure about your abilities, always double and triple checking things behind you. You couldn’t bring your own horse out of the stable without him checking your pack and ensuring you packed extra bullets.

“You never know what’s out there, girl,” He would tell you.

You find an empty seat at the bar. Only one seat away from Joel.

The bartender approaches you, asking what you’d like. You gesture towards Maria.

“Whatever she’s havin’.”

Maria finally takes notice from beside Tommy and waves at you with a huge smile plastered on her face. It warmed your cold little heart.

“Hey pretty lady,” She hops out of her chair to give you a half hug, “Glad you are doing this.”

Tommy was looking at you from beside Joel, a smirk playing on his face.

Joel stared forward with no emotion, not even daring to glance your direction.

“How’s it goin’?” Tommy asks, scooting his chair back to begin his way over to you, taking a spot next to Maria.

You nod, “It’s going.”

“You were on that patrol with the raiders a couple days ago, right?”

He was referring to two days ago when a couple of shitty raiders took down your partner’s horse and almost shot you through the back. You guys got the upper hand, of course. You never went without packing two guns, so you had quickly slid off your horse to find cover behind a downed tree and used a hunting rifle to take two headshots. Your partner wasn’t so lucky. He was an older man and he fell hard when his horse went down. You had to race back to Jackson getting him into the infirmary as quickly as you could. Turns out he broke his arm and a couple of ribs. He would be off patrols for awhile.

“Sure was,” You reply, “Luckily Eugene got out with just a broken arm. I was happy to be there for him.”

Before Tommy could reply to you, Joel quips up.

“He told me you got both of the guys between the eyes,” He mumbles, “That true?”

You shake my head positively. You didn’t even want to speak to him in fear that you’d say the wrong thing. He would overanalyze you at the drop of a hat.

“That’s impressive,” Tommy remarks, “Glad you got out of it unscathed.”

“My girl here is a badass,” Maria pats your shoulder, “Glad you are doing better. I know you were a rattled a bit.”

You take a sip of my drink, noting the intense burn, “Yeah, me too.”

You guys make more small talk, mainly about some recent patrols and what you found. You try to act interested, but the truth was you wanted to go home and read. Your mind was better occupied with made up stories than the stories that were playing out before you in real life.

“I think we should get home to Ian,” Maria says to Tommy, referring to their newer son. He was about five months now, very cute, and chunky. He resembled your nephew before the world stole him and his mother from you. So you always refused to hold Ian, knowing it would send you into a spiral as soon as his little fingers found yours. Maria understood, telling you she knew exactly how you felt. She’s felt loss like that before, too.

“Ellie probably wants to be relieved of her cousin duties,” Joel grumbles from beside Tommy, “Poor girl doesn’t know what she agreed to.”

“Ian’s sleepin’,” Maria says putting on her coat, “She is probably bored.”

“Tell her to head home when you see her,” Joel comments.

You have met Joel’s girl more than once. She was kind of stand-offish, intially. Now that you’ve met her a couple times, she was more chatty and goofy. She was a spitfire towards Tommy, which always made you laugh.

From what you understood, Joel had a daughter before the outbreak. Tommy and Maria keep her name on a little memorial above their fireplace, with Maria’s son’s name scribbled beside hers. You didn’t know the backstory behind Ellie, but you realized the last time you were around all of them, she doesn’t call him dad. Just Joel or old man. Maybe she adopted?

Maria pulls you out of your thoughts, nudging you a bit.

“Stay awhile, have another drink.”

You nod giving her a gentle smile, “I will. Get home safe.”

“See you around, girl,” Tommy says, giving you a half hug. You turn back to face the bar, noticing Joel’s still sipping on his whiskey.

You two sit in awkward silence when they leave, not saying much to one another. You drink your second round quickly, calling over the bartender for another one. Joel says he wants the same. Once you get your pours, he finally decides to talk again.

“You still with that one guy?”

You look at him curiously, not sure who he’s talking about. You rack your brain trying to figure out who he’s referring to and then it hits you.

“Kendrick? Oh no, he’s not anything,” You respond.

Kendrick was one of your patrol partners. You two hooked up once and realized it was too weird. He was younger than you, which didn’t mean much. But that was a huge factor in his performance. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t know what foreplay was, which meant the sex was dry and not pleasurable in the slightest.

“It seemed like something the other day,” Joel notes, “Wouldn’t stop staring at you at the town meeting.”

You could not help but notice the slight venom in his tone.

“Interesting you’re taking notice to other guys who look at me. You jealous, Miller?”

He turns to you finally, his eyes a bit glassy. The whiskey was making him bold, you could tell.

“Just observant,” He remarks, “He doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Oh, now you know my type?”

He shakes his head at your response, “I imagine you like them a bit older than him.”

Maybe you were overanalyzing the situation, but it seemed to you that Joel Miller was flirting with you. You felt like he was suggesting you were into him.

Truth be told, you did like them older. You liked a rugged man who was a bit of a mystery. You also liked assholes. All things Joel Miller was. So maybe you were into him.

You lean in to speak to him quietly, “Are you trying to suggest something?”

“Not at all,” He murmurs, “Just answering your question. Am I wrong?”

You purse your lips, “Not wrong.”

Another awkward silence.

“Wanna play some pool?”

You furrow your eyebrows, not knowing how to respond. You think his goal was to change the subject and avoid more silence. So you just nod, hopping off your barstool. The two of you make your way through some occupied tables to the one empty pool tables. You grab a stick while Joel starts to corral all the balls and set them in place.

You’ve played pool before, but you were never good. Your ex found a pool table once while you two were traveling and he spent hours teaching you how to play. It led to a screaming match. You decided after that, it just wasn’t for you.

Joel was patient, watching you line up the white ball and hit it with hardly any force, not breaking up any of the balls. You just shake your head in disappointment.

“You ever play?”

“Yeah, I just suck.”

“Fair enough,” He replies, taking his shot. You guys go back and forth. You getting no balls in the pockets, him getting all the balls in the pockets.

You ask him about patrols he’s been on recently, trying to make light conversation. You really just wanted to see if your conversation would lead back to where it started.

It didn’t.

Instead you two got more rounds of drinks and played more pool. He became more chatty, standing behind you every time you tried to take a shot, giving you advice here and there. Once you stood straight up after finally getting a ball in a pocket, he leaned in a bit.

“You see that guy over there?”

He gestured towards an older gentleman at one of the far tables. He seemed like the type to have a Confederate flag hanging outside his house. He also seemed like the type to call a woman a slur if they turned down his advances. Maybe you are just a bitch and assuming all of this. Or your assumptions about a man were right, per usual.

You turn to Joel, glancing up at him. He was close, his face centimeters away.

“Mhm?”

“He’s got all those tattoos,” He looks towards the man again, “The one on his neck is a skull with one of those Native headdresses. Looks fuckin’ dumb.”

The way he says it sends you into a fit of giggles. He starts to laugh, too. It was the first time you saw him genuinely smile and damn did it look beautiful on him. His eyes crinkled a bit, his shoulders falling in a very relaxed way.

You finish up your round of pool and decide it’s time for the both of you to retire back to your houses. Conveniently, your house was right off Rancher Street just like his. You grab your coat off the one barstool, watching Joel put on his.

“We are going the same way, do you mind walkin’ with me?”

“No problem.”

You two walked side by side, your steps almost in sync. It was much darker now, the sun set hours ago. You felt like you went through a time jump. You didn’t feel like you spent tons of time at the Tipsy Bison.

Joel’s house is before yours on the street, so when you arrive in front of his steps, he stops completely.

“Here’s me,” Joel mutters, “You comin’ in?”

“Should I?” You question, stupidly.

“Well I invited you, so yeah,” He suggests, “You should.”

He walks in front of you, reaching for his front door. His house was comfy and warm. Looking around, you could tell he kept it well maintained. It was clean, only a couple dust bunnies lined the hallway baseboards. He had pictures on the walls and blankets littering the couch.

“I ain’t done this in awhile,” He says, sliding his boots off at the front door. You follow suit, not really taking in the words he said. He stares at you carefully, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry, what exactly?”

He approaches you slowly, his demeanor shifting. He looks down at you, his stature a lot bigger than most of the men you’ve been with, you note. He was broad and brilliantly tanned. His dark chocolate hair was speckled with grays. He had some fine lines on his face, especially where he furrowed his eyebrows 24/7.

“Brought a girl home.”

His brown eyes grow ever darker, his arm enveloping you for a moment. You don’t pull away, letting him bring your body closer to his. You feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, something you’ve not felt with a man in years.

“Feelin’ a bit rusty?” You suggest, your hands resting on his chest.

“Don’t know about that,” He mutters, “Do know I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a while.”

His comment takes you back, completely sobering you up. The warmth from the alcohol subsides and you blink at him for a minute.

“What do you mean, a while?”

His face centimeters away from yours, again. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, having to get on your tiptoes to do so.

“Meanin’ every time ’m around you, I think of how amazing your ass looks in those jeans.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“You’re only now telling me this, Joel?” You ask, playing up that you were annoyed. You were kind of, because what the fuck, you could’ve had him sooner?

“Didn’t think a pretty young thing like you would want me,” He says, “Now I know better.”

He leans down, his lips hardly touching yours. You assume he’s waiting for your move, so you give in first, capturing his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, until he takes notice to how you’re pulling him down further.

He deepens the kiss, pressing your back against one of the walls nearby. His lips were soft, his mustache tickling you a bit. He adds tongue seamlessly, feverishly grabbing you everywhere. Your hips, lower back, your butt.

I can’t believe I’m making out with Joel right now.

Your brain stops for a moment when you realize one thing you never thought about before. Where’s Ellie?

It brings you out of the kiss. You pull away slowly, trying not to alarm him too much.

“Is Ellie home?” You mutter, your eyes fluttering open to meet his.

He looks to the side, glancing out the back window.

“Probably, but she stays in the garage out back. She has uhm,” He gestures towards the backyard, “Has a whole set up in there. She never comes in here, don’t worry.”

It reassures you enough to bring him back into the kiss. His hands return to your waist, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but grip his arms, feeling his muscles through his long sleeve.

“Bring me to bed, Miller,” You moan between kisses, “Need you now.”

He doesn’t say anything before he leans down, hiking your legs up around his waist. He carries you like you’re a light little feather. You use this time to attach your lips to his neck, giving him soft kisses up to his earlobe.

Joel may be a bit older than you, but he carried you up the stairs like no other 50-something-guy could. He didn’t even fumble, his steps heavy and calculated. Once you two get to the landing, he readjusts you, his hands now holding you up by your ass.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” He murmurs in your ear, walking you into his bedroom. It smells like fresh air, which throws you off a bit. You notice the one window in the corner is cracked slightly, letting in the springtime air.

He tosses you on his made up bed, making you a bounce a bit. He’s standing over you looking a bit dishelved, his eyes dark with desire.

He unbuttons his shirt, shaking it off his shoulders. You watch the piece of fabric fall away from him. His upper body is toned, some areas of his stomach and shoulders are littered with scars. The moonlight highlights them, but honestly, they made him hotter. He looked more dangerous, more unattainable for a girl like you.

“You just gonna gawk?” He teases, leaning down to let his lips meet yours again. In between kisses, he tugs down your pants, leaving you just in your underwear and top. He throws your pants across the room, his hands trailing up your bare thighs.

“Let me get my top off,” You say pulling away from his eager lips. He sits back on his knees, watching you slowly peel off your top and undershirt. The undershirt has a built in bra that hardly keeps your boobs supported, but it was easier than wearing the uncomfortable bras you usually wore. You throw both shirts across the room before you lean back on your elbows again.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He says, his hands reaching out to touch you. He finds your collarbones first, before letting one hand trace the swell of your breasts. He was taking his time with you.

“You just gonna gawk?”

He smiles.

“I am gonna ruin you, girl,” He spits. You stare at him with your best doe eyes, trying to see what kind of rise you could get out of him.

He grabs one of your boobs, before pushing you all the way on your back. His lips trace all over your body before ghosting right above where your underwear sit on your lower tummy.

“Joel-” You begin, until he starts tracing your slit with his fingers, right over your panties.

“Hm?” He chuckles, his soft touches making you writhe under him, “What, sweetheart?”

“Need you-” You choke out, “Please.”

He chuckles darkly, “Love to see you beg.”

You knew he was going to be dominant, but you didn’t expect him to be so candid. He seemed so quiet and steadfast in day to day life, so when you see him like this, you knew you were fucked. He was the type to talk you through the whole experience, something you’d never had with another man. Everyone you had slept with was so vanilla. No one was like the guys in the novels you read. Dominant, hungry for more, and vocal.

“Let’s take these off,” He says wrapping his finger around the band of your underwear. You were so giddy now, you lift your ass a bit so he could get them off you. When you do that, your bare pussy gets so close him that you could feel his breath on your mound slightly.

“You ever been eaten out before, girl?”

You shake your head, “Yes, but I didn’t really enjoy it.”

“Just let me know when you’re about to cum, baby,” Baby, “I know you will.”

You loved how cocky he was. It made the anticipation almost too overwhelming.

He leans down, his tongue flattening over your slit. You watch him close his eyes and instantly get into devouring you. He flicks his tongue up and down, eventually pressing his lips around your mound. You lose all ability to speak, so when he pulls away, you groan in displeasure.

He says nothing, just put his middle finger and ring finger into his mouth, covering them in his saliva. He looks up at you, those fingers beginning to trace you up and down.

“You-” Is all you can say before he’s sinking his fingers inside. He reattaches his lips to your clit, sucking as he fucks you with his digits. The wet squelching from the action sends your head into orbit. You cannot believe how good it feels because every other sexual encounter you had the guy would go in dry, maybe giving you kitten licks, and call it eating you out. But not Joel. Joel knew a woman’s anatomy. He knew exactly how to treat it.

You just moan out his name, letting his actions take you to that familiar heat build up in your tummy. Usually you had to get there yourself. You throw your head back into his pillows, your eyes crushing shut as you take in the feeling.

“Hey,” You hear Joel growl, “Eyes on me, or I stop.”

Your eyes fly open, watching him return to sucking your clit. As you stare down, you notice him adding another finger into the mix. The pressure felt so good, your walls feeling everything he was giving you.

“Can I please,” You are about to let go, but you remember you were supposed to tell him, “Cum?”

You can’t even form sentences.

He pulls away.

“Since you asked nicely,” His lips are wet with your slick, “Cum.”

The magic word that sends you into pure bliss. Your body quakes while he still fucks you with his fingers. You can only chant his name, begging him not to stop.

He removes his fingers, smiling at your post orgasm face. You blush, suddenly becoming extremely self aware. You had no reason to be timid or shy now, being splayed out like you are in front of Joel.

He stands tall over you, making you feel so small in his big bed.

“That was so good baby, but I ain’t done with you,” He pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, “Need that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.”

“Jesus fuck,” You moan, still sensitive from what he just did to you.

He groans, “Name is Joel. No Jesus here.”

He just had to give into the dad jokes. You slap your forehead in disappointment, making him grin a bit.

“Got you all nice and stretched, now.”

You realize he hasn’t even taken off his pants in that moment, because he pulls down his tented pants to reveal himself to you. He was bigger than you’ve ever had, which sent you gawking again. He pumps himself, watching your widened eyes.

“You’re too easy to read, girl,” He mutters, “I’ll inch it in, let you get adjusted nicely.”

You lean forward a bit, back onto your elbows, “You’re gonna fucking split me in half.”

He runs his dick between your wet core, which sends shockwaves up your body.

“Like I said,” He licks his lips, “I got you nice and stretched.”

Him repeating it made you smirk devilishly. He continued to run his cock up and down your wetness, getting ready to plunge into you.

When he stops right in front of your hole, he stares into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind.

“Fuck me, Joel Miller.”

He sinks into you, inch by inch. You groan in pleasure. The stretch is nothing like his fingers, it’s even better.

He’s taking his time, pulling back a bit before pushing back into you. It’s slow, gradual. After three pumps, he leans down to catch your lips. He continues to grind into you, the mixture so intoxicating. You moan into the kiss, your mouth opening up for his tongue to slip in. He tasted like you, which was something you never really tasted before.

“Your pussy was made for me,” He moans, “Fuckin’ hell.”

He sits back, bringing the pace up a bit, his balls slapping into you now. The sounds were borderline pornographic. The panting, the wetness, the slapping.

“You’re takin’ me so well,” He grunts, “I want to hear you.”

You cry out as he speeds up, “Please, d-don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. He keeps the pace the same as he fondles your boobs. He pinches your perked up nipples, clenching his teeth. You can tell he’s getting close, but instead of chasing that high, he stops.

He manhandles you, pulling you up like he did when he carried you up the stairs. He somehow keeps his dick inside you as he finds a seat on the bed. He’s holding you above him, completely switching positions.

“Want you to ride me,” He says, “Need to see those beautiful tits bouncin’.”

You take up the challenge. You rest on your knees first. You circle your hips, dragging your clit across his lower tummy. You never knew you could feel so full before, especially in this position.

He just stared at you in awe, playing with your tits as you grind down on him.

You take one of his hands in your own, placing it right below your belly button.

“I feel you right here, Joel,” You moan, “Fillin’ me up so good.”

You knew he wanted to cum right there because his dicks twitches inside you.

“You are one dirty girl,” He growls, “You’re lucky I’m even letting you cum again, talkin’ like that.”

You plant your feet on the bed, finding all your strength to start bouncing on him. He steadies you, bringing his hips up to meet yours. This angle hits different, especially when Joel’s thumb finds your clit again. You couldn’t help yourself, chasing that same high you felt before when his face was between your thighs.

You look down at him with hooded lids, “I’m gonna cum again.”

“Yes you are,” He smirks, “Cum all over me baby, I feel you.”

Your release hits you, making you fall to your knees again. Your hips girate, the spasming around Joel’s cock sending him into a moaning mess. He lets your settle for a moment before lifting you back up. His dicks slides out, which causes him to hiss and you to groan. Instead of laying you face up, he throws you face down into the pillows.

“My turn,” He says, dipping his cock back into you. As soon as it happens, you realize you weren’t done. That same sensitivity was back, but this time you felt the burning pick back up even quicker. He’s settling into a brutal pace, grabbing both your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. You turn your head, trying to get a view of him.

He was watching himself plunge into you, over and over again. It had to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s dripping in sweat, his body glistening, clenching his teeth at the sight of your bodies meeting.

“‘m bout to cum,” He moans, “Where do you want it?”

“Fuck it into me, Joel.”

The words slips out so quickly. The tipping point hit you both at the same time, the spasming hitting you all over again. You scream into the pillows, biting into them trying not to be too loud. He releases himself into you, stilling his movements.

He doesn’t say anything when he pulls out, you both just breathe out loudly. You felt so empty without him.

You had never cum so much in one night before.

Joel Miller made you cum three times.

Without any help.

You hear his footsteps trail to his attached bathroom, hearing some water run from the faucet. You return to laying on your back, unsure if you could trust your legs to stand. Joel’s figure returns to the room, a damp rag in his hands. He smirks at you all the while nudging your legs apart. He slowly drags the rag around your sensitive area, making sure to get any cum that was leaking out of you. After he cleans you up, he wipes off his dick a bit.

He tosses the rag into a basket of clothes nearby.

“You want any water?”

You take note to how gentle and sweet he was being after being so aggressive towards you before. It was a side of Joel you really appreciated. He wasn’t talking down to you, he genuinely took your needs into account.

“I think I’ll be okay,” You respond, your eyes finally shutting, “Don’t think I’ll be able to walk home.”

“You can stay,” He grumbles, walking to the side of the bed, “We both have patrol in the morning anyway.”

Your eyes fly open, “Shit, I do! Wait-”

“Yeah I’m on with you. For the rest of the week.”

You could scream. This man just gave you the best dick of your life and now you had to patrol with him? You didn’t know how you’d be able to contain yourself.

“Fuck,” You place your hands over your face. You settle in the thought that you needed to sleep if you were going to be alive for morning patrol and you’d worry about your horny desires for Joel.

“C’mere,” He says, pulling you further up the bed. He positions you next to him in the bed, pulling some covers over you, leaving your boobs still out for his viewing pleasure. He wrapped one arm under you, letting it rest around your neck.

His sheets were flannel and so warm. His scent overtook you as soon as you relaxed into the pillows. One of them is the one you bite into earlier.

You felt at peace, wanting to stay in this spot for as long as possible.

“I’ll wake you a bit earlier so you can go home and get dressed,” He grumbles, “And…”

You don’t even realize how tired you are. Before Joel can finish his sentence, you fall into a deep slumber, praying sunrise doesn’t come too quickly.

You wake up when it’s still dark outside. Joel woke you up with a gentle nudge. You shoot up, scared for a moment before you take in your environment. You realize he’s fully dressed already. You groan, rubbing your eyes.

When you start to slip out of bed, you start realizing you’re still completely naked.

And in Joel’s bed.

You plant your feet on the wooden floorboards, using the light from the one lamp in the corner of the room to find your clothes. You could not find your panties for the life of you, so you give up and just shove your legs into your jeans and throw your shirt over your head. Joel lets you wake up in silence, not asking you questions until you make it downstairs.

“I’ll see you at the stables,” He mutters, pouring warm water into a mug that has a tea bag hanging off of it, “You go get changed.”

He was being short, you could tell. You feel a sinking feeling, like he probably regretted what happened last night. Before you could respond, the back door swings open and a smaller frame enters the dark house.

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, “What are you doing up?”

Her tired eyes are on you. You freeze in your spot, not knowing how to react or what to say. Your head just races with shitshitshitshit.

“I knew I heard your voice last night!” She laughs, “Y’all have fun?”

Your cheeks heat up instantly, not able to think of a response.

“Ellie!” His voice is stern and borderline scary, “Go back to your room, now.”

It was a demand.

She just chuckles, grabbing the door handle and pulling it close.

“See you around, Joel’s lady friend.”

You stand there completely dumbfounded and embarrassed. Joel sips on his hot tea, not really paying attention to your response to Ellie calling you his lady friend.

“Go get dressed.”

It was another demand. It sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe your sinking feeling was correct.

Joel only did what he did last night because of the alcohol. It didn’t change how he’d treat or talk to you in real life. You kind of wished he’d just be cruel about it. Like he would just read your mind and tell you how stupid you were to think this would change anything.

You felt like a fool. You don’t say anything as you walk to the door and put on your boots. As you walk out of the house, you promise yourself to take it one minute at a time. Don’t overthink everything. Just let it be a one night stand. Don’t make it about your feelings. Be cool about it.

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 3 months

Text

❤ Yandere Hater ❤

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

WARNINGS: Incel vibes; Hate; Noncon (in his imagination cause he's delulu).

◾ Yandere!Hater who fucking hates your guts. Frankly doesn’t understand all the hype surrounding you.

You’re mediocre, at best. Nothing that special about you so he fails to understand why you’re getting increasingly popular these days.

You're not intelligent. You’re not talented. You’re not funny.

Heck, you’re not even that pretty.

Fuck, you’re actually nothing interesting.

Just another brainless bimbo on her 5 minutes of fame.

◾ Yandere!Hater that spends hours scrolling your social media, spamming your posts with countless mean comments, hoping you see them. You deserve them and he hopes you cry reading them. Worthless bitch.

Acting all sweet and delicate in front of cameras, but he knows better. You’re just another stuck-up assed girl.

Probably feeding on attention and money while being a slut to every rich guy that you get a chance to meet.

◾ Yandere!Hater who runs an online account - dedicated to you, obviously - where he venomously spreads hate against you. It’s his little safe-haven, where he gets to expose your fake ass to the world.

Actively targets and attacks anyone that dares leave those disgustingly cute supportive comments under your posts. Gets involved in so many Discord and Twitter arguments that he’s lost count on how many times his account has been banned.

It’s not his fault that your fans are stupid simps.

◾ Yandere!Hater who thinks the absolute worst about you. You’re an ugly arrogant bitch. But that doesn’t stop him from rubbing one off while his eyes are glued to that Instagram photo you recently uploaded - you’re at the beach, a huge smile on your face and your body only covered by the skimpy tiny bikini.

He furiously touches himself at the sight, imagination drifting towards a scenario where he runs into you at the beach.

You’ve briefly mentioned in an interview about your fear of the ocean, never having learned how to swim. Dumb you.

So he thinks about your plastic smile quickly disappearing as his hand grabs you by the hair, violently dragging towards the water. You seem pretty weak, especially given he has a strong toned body when compared to yours.

His cock twitches at the thought of you desperately fighting, begging him with tears shining in your eyes. He’d tame you rather easily, a mean slap or two making you shut up.

He’d pull you into the water, ignoring you as you hyperventilate. Push you to the deepest parts of the sea, the ones where only his feet are able to reach, forcing you to cling on to his shoulders for dear life.

You’d cry and whimper, begging him to take you back to the sand.

But he’d only smile, slipping your bottom off - uncaring of the fact that the waves take away the thin piece of fabric.

So what if everyone sees you half-naked when you get back on land? You’re a slut and everyone should know that.

◾ Yandere!Hater who almost cums at the thought of telling you to ride him - right there on the water - or otherwise he’d just drop you in the water.

Your choice.

You can either ride him quietly as he holds your ass with a tight grip or you can find out how to swim for yourself. He closes his eyes, relishing the climax that runs over him, imagining it’s your tight pussy that brought him to his orgasm, his cum dumped deep in your little cunt.

◾ Yandere!Hater who pretends like this was one rare occasion that won’t happen again but day after day, he finds himself with a hand down his pants, abusing his cock while imagining fucking you in the most degrading ways that exist.

◾ Yandere!Hater that gets more and more spiteful of you, which leads to a few disastrous encounters with you in public - only possible thanks to his network of connections with paparazzi - finding you as you go out with friends.

Encounters those that end with him being wrestled away from you by the buffy bodyguards that work for you, while you cower behind your friends, who weakly try protecting you from the eyes of the lunatic who just tried to drag you into his car.

◾ Yandere!Hater that promises himself to do humanity a favor and take you away from the spotlight, maybe a place in his basement is more appropriate for you.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x you #yandere x reader #tw: yandere #yandere concept #female reader #yandere headcanons #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines

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nishibons · 2 months

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𝐇𝐄𝐘, 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐌𝐄 . . .

or piwon pining thoughts/texts

warnings na genre fluff word count eight hundred excluding texts

note hiii everybody!! sorry i disappeared for a bit but ive been busy with uni TT i got an 85 on my recent assignment tho so everybody cheer… anyway ive been obsessed with piwon lately hence this post but fear not i have an enha version coming soon

keeho

confident but humble. he doesn’t have any expectations for your relationship but hopes that you’ll eventually catch on to his borderline obnoxious flirting, and better yet, reciprocate. if you do happen to return his feelings, he doesn’t waste any time in asking you out properly, because why wait? his friends say he laughs too loud around you for you to not know about his feelings, but he swears that they’re just being dramatic… he’s so normal and chill about you, really, that joke about the refrigerator or something was just funny!

taeyang

an absolute menace. you end up assuming that he hates you with how he stares you down whenever you enter his vicinity and with how he exchanges hushed whispers with his friends from across the room, silenced only when he turns his head far away enough to steal glances at you. eventually, once he asks for your number under the guise of it apparently being weird that you were the only two between your mutual friend groups to not have exchanged numbers, he plays into this idea, hoping he can pull off some sort of enemies to lovers trope, because it always works in books, right? in truth, he’s just a little bit apprehensive about the vulnerability that comes with liking someone, and tries to preserve his pride with thinly veiled insults that upon second glance quickly fall apart. can you melt his icy cold heart? (the answer is yes.)

jiung

likes you from the very beginning, but is a strong believer in the idea that lovers should be friends first, so he tries his best to establish a genuine relationship with you before he even begins to think about making any moves. he shows strong initiative even throughout your friendship–whether it’s invitations to meet up for lunch, to see that movie you’ve been eagerly waiting the release of, or even paying for your coffee every single time, he’s quick to assure you and dispels any worries you might have about repaying him with a wave of his hand and a bright smile–your company is enough, he says, and if you end up falling for him (who wouldn’t?) he, of course, eagerly awaits the day he can take you for an actual date, but enjoys every moment he spends with you until then just as much.

intak

by far the most shameless with his affection. he can’t help it–you have him hopelessly whipped from the very beginning and he’s terrible at hiding it anyway, so why not lean into it? the first to jump up from his seat when you mention being thirsty–water or juice? and the first to compliment you regardless of the circumstances of your meeting, even on those days you can’t manage anything but a sweater pulled hastily over your shoulders and a messy updo. it’s impossible not to feel flattered around him, and he’s honestly not even actively trying to flatter you, he’s just being wholly honest. if you ever want to shut him up, just compliment him back–hopefully you have a stretcher on hand!

shota

the cutest ever. you catch him staring at you more than a few times before he eventually works up the nerve to approach you, and initially you’re intimidated–but the moment he opens his mouth you know that he’s harmless, and obscenely adorable to beat. he’s not the greatest at expressing himself with words, so he makes sure to show that he likes you by sending you things that remind him of you–songs from an artist he likes, those little figures you collect he sees in the window of a store on the way to work, a rainbow in the sky after a rainy morning. sometimes he provides some commentary, or a cute emoticon, and other times he says nothing, sending only a simple picture and hoping that you can feel even just some of the many emotions that rush through him at the thought of you and have his heart fluttering in his chest when you eventually reply.

jongseob

the sweetest of angels. he doesn’t crush often, but when he does, he crushes hard, so he doesn’t want to mess it up. though he’s rather reserved on the flirting front, he makes sure to send good morning and good night texts every day, without fail, on top of the seemingly random yet innocuous questions he asks throughout the day–what did you eat for lunch? how was work? any thoughts on this new album that just came out? part of it is in hopes that eventually you’ll fall for him as he did you, but he does also take genuine interest in you as a person and wants to know everything about you there is to know if you’ll just give him the chance. flirt with him at all and you’ll very quickly have him turning into a giggling, indecipherably stammering mess.

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deakyjoe · 6 months

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Somebody’s Watching Me Epilogue

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (“Sarge”, she/her pronouns, British, backstory)

Category: slowburn coworkers to friends to lovers with grumpy x sunshine dynamic/idiots in love

Summary: Five years later.

Warnings: domestic things, British/slang terminology

Word count: 700ish (a baby to finish the story)

A/N: Well, it’s been a long journey. And it has been months since I posted the last part. But here we are! At the end! Finally! Thank you for coming along for ride, I’m so grateful for every single one of my readers. I hope you’ve enjoyed Simon and Sarge’s story. And just because their main storyline is over doesn’t mean I won’t post other little things for them in the future.

Consider buying me a coffee :)

"Sarge, I'm telling you that it's fine. They just repackaged it. I'm sure it tastes the same."

You pushed the carton of juice away from where it was being waved in your face. "No! Look! It says that they added a whole extra apple to the recipe."

Simon sighed frustratedly and lowered the carton. "That's good, you love apples."

You groaned, hating it when he was right. "But it's going to taste different. And I hate change!" You almost hated it as much as when he was right and you were wrong, which you'd never admit.

"Do you want the apple juice or not?"

You ignored him and put the carton with your other items of shopping, walking away before Simon could comment.

He caught up to you quickly, his strides much longer than yours. “That was the last thing, let’s go and pay.”

You didn’t answer verbally, just nodded and knew he was smirking at your stubbornness. Simon had always hated the fact that he’d never been able to tame the brat out of you. But you thought your naturally stubborn nature was a good thing. It was the trait that got you to where you were now with your lieutenant.

You joined the back of the line behind an elderly couple and began placing your shopping on the conveyor belt, Simon rearranging it all as you did it to make it look neater.

He insisted his way was more efficient.

You let him believe that.

It didn’t escape your notice when the woman in front of you turned to look at you both as you bickered about the way a two litre bottle should face.

“This way is better, Sarge.” Simon huffed, turning it around.

“But it rolls around that way!” You replied, exasperated.

“Fine. You should be glad I’m so fond of you.”

You scoffed. “I bloody well hope so after all this time. Fond of me? Fond!”

He sent you one of his radiant smiles that you were one of the lucky few to receive. “Would you rather I declare my undying love for you with a dramatic reading of a Shakespeare sonnet in the middle of big Tesco?”

“Wouldn’t go unappreciated.” You sniffed, smiling back at him with all thoughts of the rolling bottle forgotten.

The older woman squinted at the both of you trying, but not succeeding, at subtly tapping at her husband’s shoulder in order to get his attention. He just ignored her.

But when the woman's eyes landed on Simon, the recognition dawned and her face molded into a satisfied one. And then when they strayed to the matching wedding rings on the both of you, she just about jumped in joy.

You stared right back at her, waiting for her to say something. You were sure she was the same woman who'd assumed you and Simon were a couple five years ago when you'd first bumped into each other in this very same supermarket.

Funny how things work out.

She gave you a warm smile which you tentatively returned before she turned back around to pay for her groceries.

Your husband leant down to mutter in your ear. “Is that-?”

“Yeah.”

“Thought so.”

You beamed up at Simon, suddenly very happy at the way things had happened. You always were but sometimes the wonderful nature of your situation really hit you.

“Why’re looking at me with that silly grin on your face?” He grumbled, although he couldn’t hide the softness in his eyes.

“Dunno. Maybe because I get to look at your gorgeous face every day.” You nudged him with your elbow.

He stepped closer to you, tilting his head down to better meet your eyes. “Mhm, for the rest of your life. Lucky you.”

“Very lucky me.” You quipped back. He was being sarcastic and self deprecating but really what he was saying was completely true. You did consider yourself very lucky. And you always would.

Simon could see you were being genuine, as you always were with him. So he decided to return the gesture. “Think I’m the luckier one.”

You just shrugged. He could believe that if he wanted to. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to convince him otherwise. And, boy, did you have a lot of time to do that. Practically forever.

A/N: I re-read a couple chapters of Somebody’s Watching Me and it inspired me to finally finish writing this epilogue. And I’m so glad that I’ve done it now. Thanks again.

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ladykailitha · 2 months

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The Harrington Pattern Part 9

As you guys wanted, here's me doubling up on posting days. It will (hopefully) be twelve hours apart so that each chapter can get some love.

In this chapter we have a lot of flirting between Eddie and Steve. The Party being "meh" *shrugs shoulders* at Steve being bi. And Robin being the most soulmate a guy could ask for.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED!!!!

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

That night they were all gathered to watch the amateur theatrical society put on Much Ado About Nothing.

Even the ones who had been reluctant to join in were doubled over in laughter at the trick the Prince pulled on Beatrice and Benedict. The way they cried when Hero was accused of cheated on Claudio. And cheered when it was resolved happily ever after.

Mike complained about it all the way to the car. “We were forced to read this play in eighth grade and I hated it. I never knew it was funny.”

Eddie put his arm around his shoulder. “That is the unfortunate side effect of the education system. They suck the joy out of all of everything.”

“Normally I’m rolling my eyes at Eddie’s rants,” Robin said, “but I’m going to have to agree with him on this one. They just want sanitized versions of everything.”

Steve nodded. “Like what’s with the jump in American history when we stop in eighth grade at the Civil War and then all the way to WWII in eleventh grade, with only a brief mention of WWI as it related to WWII. Are they really trying to tell us that nothing happened in those eighty years of note? Like the fuck?”

Mike blinked at him. “Holy shit, I never even realized.”

The kids looked around at each other in shock.

“They push math and science,” Eddie continued, “but shit on everything else, except sports.”

He winced when realized what he had said. He looked over at Steve with an apology on his lips, but Steve was nodding.

“And they have to be the right sports, too,” Steve agreed. “Wrestling, swimming, soccer...anything outside the big three baseball, football, or basketball. Trust me, I got a lot of flack on being on the swim team. It was ‘gay’.”

“What?” Will squawked. “Why?”

Eddie licked his lips. “Little, teeny, tiny uniforms.” He emphasized the point holding his fingers not that far apart.

Dustin snorted. “Can’t be any worse than the basketball shorts.”

Steve looked upwards as he chewed on the bottom of his lip.

Dustin’s eyes bulged out of his head. “How much worse are we talking about here?”

“Speedo.”

Lucas frowned. “What the fuck is a Speedo?”

Eddie was practically vibrating in his skin. “Can I tell them, Stevie? Can I please?”

Steve let out a little sigh. The sigh the Party lovingly called his mom sigh. It was the sound he made when he knew no mater what he did it was going to end badly for him, so he just...let it happen.

He waved at Eddie to go ahead.

“Instead of swim trunks, that have a leg on them,” Eddie crowed, “Speedos are swim underpants. They cover the junk, the ass, and that’s it.”

“And you deliberately wore these things?” Max asked in interest. More interest than Lucas or any of the guys were comfortable with.

“I’m good at it,” Steve said, blush creeping up his ears and down his throat from the stain on his cheeks. “The uniform wasn’t as bad Eddie’s making it out to be.”

Gareth snorted. “Nope, they really are that bad. There was a period of time where–”

Eddie slammed his hand over Gareth’s mouth. “There’s no need to tell them about that, Gare.”

Steve looked over at Brian.

“Your senior year Eddie forced all of Hellfire to watch your meets.”

“Bri!” Eddie protested.

Steve looked over at Eddie and raised an eyebrow. “You like the...what was you it called it,” he said tapping his finger on his lips, “the ‘little, teeny, tiny’ uniform, Eds?”

Eddie threw his arms in the air. “I am but a gay man in a small town, so sue me!”

“I always preferred the lifeguard uniforms at the community pool,” Steve said. “Less wedgies.”

“Babe,” Eddie scoffed, “those shorts and tank left very little to the imagination. At least with the Speedo you knew what you were getting. With the lifeguard uniform it was all fantasy.”

Steve laughed. “I bet you were the kind who faked drowning to get CPR from their favorite lifeguard.”

“I can honestly say, I’ve never done that.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked all smiles. “Can you prove that?”

Eddie got up close to him and whispered, “Yeah, darlin’. I think I would have remembered you rescuing me before the Upside Down.” He winked at him and sauntered off. The rest of the band hastily said their goodbyes and hurried after their ride home.

Steve’s face was as red as his old life guard uniform. “Right. Let’s get home, yeah?”

Dustin eye’s narrowed at him for a moment. “Steve Harrington, are you crushing on my DM?”

The remaining eight looked at Dustin in shock.

“Dude!” Will hissed. “You can’t just ask that in public! What if someone overheard you?”

Dustin looked around and waved his hand around him. “There is literally no one here. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t think it was a safe time to ask. But I’m going home with my mom as soon as she gets here and I will not be stymied.”

Steve ducked his head. “And if I did like boys, that would be okay with everyone?”

Everyone just looked around at each other and there was this collective shrug.

“Do you still like girls?” Max asked, genuinely curious.

Steve nodded shyly.

Lucas frowned. “You can like both?”

“Like David Bowie!” El said with her serene smile. “He likes both. Freddie Mercury from Queen, too.”

Steve snapped his fingers. “Exactly like that, El!”

Her smile grew.

“It’s okay if you like Eddie that way,” Mike said softly.

All the heads snapped to look at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, okay. I have a lot to work on regarding the whole Lucas thing, but I’m not a complete ass.”

“Thank you,” El said and kissed his cheek. “You just have a lot growing up to do. We all do. We just need to give each other the chances to do so safely. Or at least that’s what Joyce keeps telling me.”

Steve gave her a hug. “Thanks, Supergirl.”

He looked out at all his friends. The people who were more his family then his own parents.

“I might have a small...” he raised his finger and thumb, “crush on a certain metalhead DM who recently joined the Party in March...”

Robin scoffed. “And by little he means huge!” She spread out her arms all the way out.

Dustin’s head snapped around to Steve. “If you two get together, he better treat you right. You deserve it.”

Steve blinked. Considering how Dustin had worded his original question, he had been sure that Dustin was going to him not to break Eddie’s heart.

He gave Dustin a hug and kissed the top of his head.

He really shouldn’t have doubted this kid.

Just then, Claudia pulled up in her station wagon and Dustin, El, Will and Mike all piled in after saying their goodbyes.

“He totally has the hots for you, by the way,” Max said dryly.

Steve blinked at her for a moment. “How do you know that? Does he spend all his days learning alt rock on his guitar or something for me?”

Max just blinked at him. “Huh. You aren’t as stupid as I thought.” And then she just started walking toward the car.

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “So to make sure I got this right, Max is saying Eddie has the hots for me because he’s been learning my favorite songs for me on his guitar?”

“That’s what it sounded like to me, man,” Lucas said with a half shrug.

“I’m with Lucas on this one,” Robin agreed. “So maybe you should do what I’ve been suggesting for the last three weeks and you know ASK HIM OUT!”

Lucas giggled.

“Shush you,” Steve admonished. “Get to the car.” He pointed at Robin. “You are spending the night with me to help plan out something cool.”

Robin saluted and Lucas just rolled his eyes and they all walked to the car to end another great night at the fair.

****

“Let’s play to your strengths,” Robin said, sitting cross-legged on Steve’s bed.

“Sports, sewing, and history,” Steve said, ticking them off on his fingers. “Fat lot of good that’s going to do me. It’s not as though I can whip out something overnight as a token of my affection.”

She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something fancy. You could do something small. Like maybe use that fancy red thread you got at the weavers yesterday.”

He blushed. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Everything I know how to make is either winter stuff or something he’d never use.”

“He uses that handkerchief all the time,” Robin pointed out. “You could do something like that.”

Steve flopped dramatically on his back. “Not if he knew it was made from that fancy thread I got. He’d want to protect it.”

Robin had to give him that one. Because that would be an Eddie thing to do. And while the sentiment was sweet it would make Steve sad that he never used it.

Suddenly Steve sat up. “Oh!”

She blinked at him. “What’s ‘oh’?”

“He was telling me just last week,” he explained, “that the bag he used to hold all his dice for their game got a hole in it and it kept spilling the dice all over the inside of his backpack!”

Robin grinned. “Let’s pick out the best material to match that pretty thread.”

Steve nodded. “I just have to make a quick phone call to find out how big the bag should be and I can have this done in no time at all.”

He called Dustin and told him his idea. Dustin was ecstatic and told him everything he needed to know.

Robin and Steve then dug into his material stores and picked out a nice black felt and a satin red lining to make doubly sure Eddie wouldn’t lose the dice down the gaping maw that was his backpack.

He then showed Robin how to make patterns and cut them. Then he got to work.

Even with how easily Robin got bored, she watched the whole time with fascination. How he embroidered his pattern into what would be the front of the bag. How quickly and evenly Steve stitched the pieces of cloth together. He explained the process every step of the way and her eyes just lit up.

He turned the bag right side out and fitted it with silver draw string. He pulled it taut and held it up to Robin to see.

She reached out and gently took it from him. “That’s so cool. You do a bunch of these at work and send them to Katie as way to gauge reactions to your work, while you make bigger pieces.”

Steve licked his lips. “You really think these would sell?”

“And I think Eddie would be pleased as punch that he got the first official Harrington Pattern design.”

Steve took it back from her and smiled. “That would make it even more special, wouldn’t it?”

Robin grinned. “Yes, yes it would.”

He threw his arms around her. “You’re the best soulmate anyone could possibly ask for.”

She blushed but held him tight. “You too, Stevie.”

When Steve finally pulled back he tapped his finger on his lips. “Now what to make you.”

Robin squealed. “But you already made something awesome. The pirate costume was amazing, you don’t have to do more just because you made Eddie something.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, but I just tailored the clothes. I didn’t make them. I want to make you something.”

She scoffed. “Like the only thing I need are gloves for marching band. Since I have to have hand-me-downs, they are either too tight or way too big.”

His eyes lit up. “I’ve never made gloves before. That would be fun and interesting to try.”

“How would you even measure something like that?” Robin asked, a small amount of hope creeping into her voice.

Steve grinned. “Do you remember those ugly ass hand turkeys they made us draw in elementary school?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Just. Like. That.”

Her eyes went wide. “Wait are you serious?”

Steve just grinned.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

I'm not 100% sure my history experience in school is universal in the US, but in order to bridge the gap you actually had to an elective history class called Twentieth Century. Like it was straight up bullshit. And before you ask, you can bet your ass I took that class. It was taught by my favorite teacher. Of course I took that class.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @microbiology @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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arieslost · 1 month

Note

Omg thank you so much for writing my Oscar x stressed reader I felt like I related so much and your writing is just too tear I loveeeee it ❤️

I was wondering if you could do maybe like on Oscar x like a sick reader or something like that I literally have the worst flue and stomach bug atm

Thank so much -❤️❤️

i’m so glad you liked it!! i hope you’re feeling better by time i post this :((

sick day | op81

you always prided yourself in going long stretches of time without getting sick, and if you did, it was only a mild cold that went away within a day or two. so, when you woke up one morning with a sore throat, you ignored it. when your nose got stuffy, you ignored it. when the uncharacteristic headache hit you, you popped some ibuprofen and called it a day.

but then you wake up the next morning and instantly know that this isn’t just a cold. the high temperature flashing back at you on the thermometer only confirms it, and unfortunately you can’t ignore this. not if you don’t want oscar to get sick too. so, when you crawl back into bed and he goes to kiss your forehead like he does every morning, you shy away from him.

“i might be sick,” you manage to croak out.

“might be?” oscar frowns. “honey, you sound like me when i first hit puberty.”

you try to glare at him, but what he said was kind of funny and your huff of laughter turns into a coughing fit that sounds nothing short of excruciating. you think you see oscar physically recoil out of the corner of your eye.

“why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” he asks once you down a few sips of water.

“because i never get sick!” you exclaim, raising a hand to your head when it pounds courtesy of your own voice. “now i’m a hazard for myself, and you. actually, you probably shouldn’t be this close to me. go away.”

you start pushing him out of the bed with your foot, and he stifles his own laughter as he gets up. “stay there, okay? i’ll take care of you.”

“no, no, i don’t want you to get sick. just leave me here and let me sweat it out or something.” you wave him off, trying to act casual, and then you cough again. “ow.”

“i’ll make tea. does your stomach hurt?” you shake your head no in response. “some toast and eggs too, then.” you open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off. “and you can’t stop me because the only way to do that is to physically kick me out, and you can’t touch me. otherwise i’ll get sick.”

“i hate you,” you grumble, even though you don’t think you’ve ever loved him more than you do in this moment.

“hang tight, baby. i’ll take care of you.” he blows you a kiss and hurries out of the room.

“don’t burn the toast!” you yell after him, immediately regretting it as your throat feels like it’s on fire the more you talk.

within the next ten minutes, you feel like you’ve sweat through your pajamas, and the sheets feel damp underneath your body. he comes to check on you and only needs to take one look at you to know something’s wrong.

“what is it?”

“i’m just… really hot. and everything feels icky.” you complain.

“okay, baby. can you sit up?” he asks, reaching for a hair tie on your nightstand. “where’s your comb?”

“top drawer.” you say as you push yourself up. “you better not come near me.”

“what are you gonna do about it? cough on me? come on,” he gestures for you to lean forward a little so he can brush your hair. “don’t worry about me. let me take care of you, yeah? no more arguing.”

“fine. but only because it hurts to talk.” you acquiesce, eyes falling shut at the tingles every brush of the comb through your hair sends to your scalp. “feels nice.”

“good,” you can hear the smile in your boyfriend’s voice as he gently gathers your hair up into a ponytail and carefully ties the elastic. “lemme get you some clothes, and then let’s go out to the couch, hmm?”

you want to tell him no, you don’t want to contaminate anything else, but you also don’t want to stay here in a puddle of your own sweat, so you let him help you change into a pair of his sweats and an old t-shirt, and because he’s being so sweet, you don’t pull away from him when he takes your hand and leads you out to the living room.

you situate yourself on the couch, clutching your water bottle in your hands for dear life. not necessarily because you feel like drinking it, but because it’s cold and it feels good. meanwhile, oscar is bustling around looking like he’s doing five things at once. one moment he’s moving the eggs around in the pan, the next he’s getting sheets out of the linen closet, and then he’s in the bathroom with the sink running.

“i could get used to this,” you tease, managing to not sound completely miserable as he brings over two cool cloths. one goes on your neck, and the other rests against your forehead. “ah, my fever’s already gone.”

“nice try,” oscar says, adjusting the cloth on your forehead a little. “eggs are almost done, you ready to eat?”

“are you gonna feed me?” you bat your eyelashes at him, and promptly have your second coughing fit of the morning.

“i might have to, you can barely talk without almost coughing up a lung.” he moves into the kitchen and begins making up a plate for you, followed by pouring hot water into a mug and placing the tea bag in before adding some honey and stirring it. “i didn’t burn the toast, so i expect a five star rating.”

“we’ll see about that,” you say, eagerly accepting the mug of tea when he holds it out and taking a long sip. even though it’s hot, it feels incredible as it goes down your throat. “i’m willing to give you bonus points for the tea.”

“that doesn’t count, i didn’t actually make that. c’mon, have some food.” he takes the mug from you and replaces it with the plate of toast and eggs.

you eat without complaint, but your nose being so stuffy kind of takes away from your ability to taste. all the same, you make your reactions as enthusiastic as possible. oscar’s a pretty decent cook, you both know it, but it’s been a running bit in your relationship to smack talk his skills in the kitchen.

“thanks, oz.” you say quietly when you’re done eating and you’ve drank two cups of tea. “i feel a lot better already.”

“you look sleepy,” he points out, flipping both cloths so the cooler sides can be on your skin.

“no, ‘m fine.” you disagree, even though you can feel yourself sinking back into the couch and your eyelids getting heavy.

“take a nap, honey. you’ll feel even better if you let your body rest.” he stands up to clear your dishes, and you stop him by weakly grabbing the bottom of his shirt. “what’s the matter?”

“nothing, just… want you to stay.”

“of course, baby. one second.” he’s quick to put your dishes in the sink before he’s back at your side, and you waste no time in slumping against him. “are you sure you want to cuddle? you feel pretty hot still.”

“i’m always hot, you tell me all the time.”

he sighs, knowing he won’t win this unless he wants to deal with you being sick and annoyed that he won’t do what you want. “touché, honey.”

you don’t answer, so wrapped up in the comfort oscar gives you even though you’re still hot and he’s often your personal heater. strangely enough, his body heat combats the fever heat in a way that’s so nice you don’t even really notice yourself losing consciousness. meanwhile, oscar leans back against the couch, making sure the washcloth stays put against your head and your ponytail doesn’t fall out when you shift in your sleep.

of course, he ends up getting sick a week later, but you’re quick to drop everything and take care of him, just like he did for you.

word count: 1,340

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yawntu · 1 year

Text

Tsyeym

A/N: Yo I thought I posted this last night, took shrooms. Finally just woke back up came and checked and was like no way no one has interacted w this fic and then realized i never pressed post. Rotxo deserves more love so I decided in a little fic for him. Switch x Switch couples are just my cup of tea. This is not my fav but I am a sucker for love and romance. It’s grammarly proofread but not beta read 🤭 (might be looking for another beta reader)

pairing(s): Rotxo x f!Reader, platonic!Ao’nung x f!Reader (briefly)

word count: ~8k

warnings: NSFW / MDNI, Size kink, stomach bulge, face sitting(f!receiving), Cunnalingus, Cumswaping maybe?, Spit, he’s a messy eater you can’t tell me otherwise, beach sex, Jealous!Rotxo, he’s just so sweet and pretty, Unprotected, love taps on your butt, “girl” is used, it’s pretty soft for the most part, he’s obsessed and def a simp

na’vi glossary: sayrìp : handsome, skxawng : moron, tsyeym : treasure / precious

Playfully scrapping had become increasingly popular amongst your friend group since you had been introduced to each other's cultures all those years ago. It was commonplace to play amongst yourselves. Just earlier in the evening you and Ao’nung had just almost spoiled your dinner by shoving each other's faces into the sand after a slap-boxing horseplay over some crustacean turned into a rather enthralling spar that had both of your fathers rooting for and coaching from an imagined sideline (and mothers who were doing more yelling and hooting in excitement then offering tactical advice).

Rotxo had even watched in amusement as it seemed Ao’nung had succeeded in neutralizing you with a knee on your back. Unfortunately, Ao’nung had been a fool and got off of you to turn to his father with a grin. It took you only seconds for you to contort yourself into a crouch and launch yourself into the back of his legs sending him forward onto his knees. His shock gave you enough time to maneuver both of your palms onto the back of his head and dramatically push his face right down into the sand,

“That is for punching me,”

And Rotxo couldn’t help the pang of jealousy at the fact that your pretty thighs straddle his best friend's back. Or the fact that jealousy grew into a painful lump in his throat when Ao’nungs arm hooks behind him to support your frame as he almost barrel rolls half onto his back to pin your thigh under his body and halt your assault with a laugh.

All your family and friends are laughing at the two of you, and your mothers coo as they watch you wipe sand off of Ao’nungs face. Rotxo couldn’t stop the bitter resentment that bubbled in his chest at the sight. He hated feeling this way. He hated the way you made him feel not quite like himself.

Which is why he does his very best at keeping it hidden. Not that it’s hard for him to forget the resentment he feels for you the second you give him your attention. Even only hours after the disgusting display of affection with his best friend. When you kindly ask him to accompany you on a walk he can’t even think about how upset he had been. Even now while your chiding voice disrupts the peacefulness of your walk and the beauty of the light beginning to set over the reef.

“You’re mad because I will not spar with you?”

He cuts off your words. The duck of the young warrior's head, so he could speak to you face to face as you walked down the beach only insults you more. Had he been on the side closest to the soft waves you’d have no doubt shoved him onto his ass into the assaulting water. Obviously that is what you were angry about-

“Is it because I cheat when I fight Ao’nung? If he is so stupid as to keep turning his back on me after all this time then he is at fault,”

You sound genuinely confused as you try desperately to make sense of why Rotxo would rough house with Lo’ak or Neteyam and even Kiri but not you. It’s funny how conceited you sound even as you’re practically bouncing next to him and pestering him like a bug. Rotxo knew a little better than most though regarding the inner workings of your mind. It wasn’t that you were conceited- you were just stupidly confident. He didn’t doubt, however, that one way or another your small frame would beat him simply because he knew you wouldn’t dare give up until you did.

“Besides the fact that I vividly remember when you bit Tinangey in the cheek,” Rotxo try’s to defend his unwillingness to hit you with an annunciation to his story by holding two of his second knuckles to the apex of your cobalt cheek. Long, thick fingers curled against your glowy skin. The same place you had bitten the longed-haired, round-faced, barely tolerable boy all those years ago when you fought. Though in your defense Ao’nung and the group of boys had started a very real fight, and you had only followed in your brother's shadow of retribution.

“And I happen to hit much harder than Ao’nung does,” he adds.

For a second, Rotxo feels like he exudes your same confidence. It’s not an unwarranted comment, however. Ao’nung was less than a head taller than him, but Rotxo had grown into quite an impressive specimen. Wide and as immovable as the waves that crashed outside of the reef you do not venture past. That was more than half the reason why you wanted to spar with the Talioang of a man so terribly.

“You are no fun,”

He can’t help but frown at your words. He knows you aren’t serious- would you spend as much time with him if you did not find entertainment in him? The same insecurity that causes resentment to bubble in his stomach rears its ugly head once more. For a second he feels like he could believe that you had been aware of how he felt and that you used him for validation.

“You should be more thankful to me,” he chides, baring his fangs slightly in a half grinned snarl, “that I refuse to knock any more brain cells out of you,”

You complain he doesn’t horseplay with you the way the others do, but at this moment he organically wraps one palm around the back of your head to pull you into him slightly, so he could cruelly rub his knuckles against the crown of your head.

Because he does roughhouse with you. Rotxo always played with you. Was always there to entertain you because the idea of other men wrapping their hands around the pliable flesh of your flowing form made the ugliest parts of him surface. If it wasn’t Rotxo entertaining you it was your siblings or his best friend. As he had not made any formal claim towards you out of his nerves, unfortunately, had to tolerate it regarding his future Olo'eyktan.

You’re just a terrible little cretin that found delight in the chaos you left in your wake. It’s why you, Lo’ak, and Kiri get into so much trouble. It’s why you poked at Ao’nung. He can swear there’s a part of you that does it just to cause strife in his heart.

He can’t be bothered with pondering over the legitimacy of his accusation partially out of fear that he’s projecting, and perhaps you are just like Ao’nung. Though mostly it’s because of course you are swatting your delicate little hand at him and grumbling about how you’re smarter than him and that he was the stupid one to think otherwise.

It’s endearing how you walk backward as the two of you playfully bicker and fight. Though like always- Rotxo is catching your intended slaps and redirecting your arms to swoop past him. Sometimes even grabbing at your forearms so you can’t help but be pulled around haphazardly by him.

“You are so fucking annoying,”

Your shriek comes as Rotxo almost effortlessly maneuvered you to spin forward and walk ahead of him, while he pinned your arms across your chest. You both stumble over each other's feet as you can’t help but laugh over the fact that he’s made your arms an effective straight jacket. You wiggle and writhe and it halts his walking while you try to dig your heel into the top of his foot. It only results in one of your wrists being let go of and you being spun around like a toy by him.

He had half let you stumble while he used the momentum of your arms to spin you, but he was quick to grab hold of your other wrist, propping you right up.

You were out of breath from the game but you were thankful for the view he presented you with. The violets and oranges of sunset suited the aquamarine of his skin. Dancing between the intricate tidal markings on his body, and forcing your eyes to dance across the defined arms, chest, and neck that were covered in bold black lines. You feel a little silly, being so flustered before him with your whole face purpled. You can help it because he looks pretty at the moment. Absolutely beautiful like always. Like no one you had ever seen before.

Rotxo is quick to heave you up in the air and shake you around. Ruining the view that had just begun to calm you down. Riling you into hysteric laughter while playing with you as if you weighed nothing. You shake in his arms and toss your body around like a mad-woman and you’re cackling just like one.

When he begins to feel merciful you land on your feet, with his arms still pining your hands and arms against your ribs that are rapidly rising and falling. With the welcomed breaths you instantly go back to chastising him.

“That is not sparring, fish-boy! You were just being an imbecile.”

You’re snapping an arm fee so you can poke him in the chest. He can’t help but roll his eyes at your attempt and take your hand to lightly ‘smack’ your face with it.

“You are ridiculous,”

He tried to emphasize his words with a similar assault by your other hand but you offered resistance,

“If you just took me seriously I-“ you’re cut off as you struggle to keep him from playfully making you hit yourself. Thrashing your head around wildly. And he’s just laughing above you because he thinks it’s stupid that you assume he just thinks you can’t fight and that’s why he won’t spar with you. For Eywas sake he watches you win regularly.

It’s like you could read his mind without tsaheylu and the mention of your victories emboldened you. He hadn’t even noticed your leg raise to wrap around his locked knee leisurely supporting his weight while he tormented you.

He had buckled backward under the weight of his massive frame embarrassingly quickly. You had expected him to let go of your wrists as he fell, but he did not. Opting to drag you down into the sand with him.

He tries to control the mauve that dances across his skin but this is the reason he didn’t spar with you. He can tell himself it’s because he hates seeing you get hit, and that his heart breaks and chokes him any time he thinks about striking you even in that situation.

He knows however, it’s because he can’t be this close to you. He can already feel his ears perking up towards you and his eyes relaxing while he stares up at you. How pretty. Your sapphire skin was dazzling under the cool violets and dwindling oranges of an almost completely set sun. The stars had even begun to twinkle behind you between the other shining moons.

“You are the worst,” your pants finally die down, to match your soft glare,

“Is that so?” His cheeks dimple as he grins wildly up at you as you adjust to straddle his chest more comfortably.

“Yes. I swing at you and you don’t even try to hit me back.”

And there’s another attitude laced plop to his chest. More follow as you use said pops to enunciate your following words,

“You just toss me around like I am useless and cannot fight! You know I can. Yet you only fight my brothers, how are you meant to get better if you don’t-“

He stops listening to your scoldings. He doesn’t care what you’re saying when his heart beats against your inner thighs. When he can feel the pudge of your hips practically pooling on him begging for him to grab at it. Why couldn’t you connect the dots? Why were you so stupid? He can’t help but laugh at you, there’s even a bit of a bitter snide behind it. Even though he thinks it’s endearing how badly you wanted to prove yourself to him. He cuts you off abruptly,

“Go and fight with Ao’nung,”

And it’s got your pretty siren eyes widening at his words.

“What does he have to do with anything,”

The sight of his sea-foam eyes rolling into the back of his head has your snarl fixed down at him,

“Can’t step on the Olo'eyktan’s toes can I? Huh?”

He has an expression you’ve never seen cross his face before. Not on Rotxo’s. Not the sweet boy who you had spent so much time with,

“What are you talking about, Ro?”

Ro. You dare call him Ro at a time like this. It makes him sit up on in elbow, grabbing at the top of your now elevated thigh,

“What do you mean what am I talking about? Why do you need to spar with me when you can practice with him? Unless it’s just some weird mating thing you guys have going on-”

He’s never seen your face screw up quite like it is now. Red-faced at his accusation not out of embarrassment but out of anger. Angry that he’d made such a brazen accusation. The first outbreak from Rotxo leaves you stumbling over how to answer him, and you notice he looks hurt at your stunned silence.

“Yeah, ‘course that’s what it is. You make it quite obvious-“ and you feel him start to move under you- probably to get up and apologize and tell you you had to walk back to the village now because even with the hurt salted embarrassment he feels now he’d never leave you to walk back alone. Never let you be in danger. You know that and it makes you more upset,

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t make it obvious. I am not your fucking ilu- you do not know what I’m thinking.”

Your left hand reaches for the wrist of the hand that holds your thigh while your right pointer and middle fingers aim down at him accusingly.

“So you have no interest in him?”

Rotxo is speaking faster than usual. A trait you had noticed followed Rotxo anytime he was too hyped up. He was the softest boy you had ever known yet the gentle buzz of adrenaline that leaked out of his too-quick breaths reminded you that he was in fact a Metkayina warrior.

“Mhmm,”

You’re honestly surprised it has taken you this long to notice the mutual affection he had harbored for you. Blinded by your insecurities, the sight of him frantic over the idea of your affection belonging to someone else made you squirm.

“I suppose he would be a fine mate now that you mention it-” and you smile down at him, hoping he knows you’re kidding. That you just don’t know how to talk about your feelings “considering no one else seems to be all that interested in me,”

And you feel him go ridged under you, round eyes fixated on your own. You think he’s annoyed a little bit, staring dumbfounded at you. But you feel his fingers dig into the meat of your thigh.

“Was this your plan? Torment me into doing what you want?”

You don’t know if it’s the chill of the eclipses sea breeze or the fact that Rotxo’s voice was as modulated, deep, and mesmerizing as always, yet his face held the same intense stare that the Metkayina warriors were renowned for. You’re embarrassed at the way you twitch as he props both hands on your thighs and adjusts himself back into laying straight back.

“Nu-uh, but is it working?” And you're purring above him, flicking your tail across his stomach. It only added to the overstimulated feeling throbbing at the front of Rotxo’s skull. An uncomfortable pendulum swinging him between ecstasy at the sight of your pretty form sat on his chest and misery over the fact that he still couldn’t shake the insecurity that you were toying with him.

“No-“ He curses a crack in his voice with a swallow, “I will just stay tormented,”

His hands are warm as they paw at the top of your thighs. He can’t help but feel like he’s on fire at your position, at least the sand was starting to cool in the dark. It helped keep him from sweating below you even as he pants at the sight above him. Your knees are pushed under his arms and nestled against his ribs and he worries you can feel his heart pounding. You made the air hang hot around his head.

You’re nervous at how intense his dusk sullen aqua eyes maintain their contact with you but he doesn’t have a choice- if you scooted up less than a foot you’d be sat right on his face- there’s nothing he’s ever wanted more.

“Lost in thought?”

He cringes at your voice. Not knowing how you always get him like this. How you always have the high ground. He doesn’t know why he’s honest with you,

“I do not want you to fight with Ao’nung like that anymore.”

And you grin at him and place your palm on his cheek,

“Is that so? That means you will spar with me now?”

He couldn’t wrap his head around your obsession with being hurt? Did you pester everyone to fight with you like this? The thought makes his body move on reflex, craning his neck enough to open his mouth wide and comp down onto the exposed skin of your thigh. You bounce on his chest, pulling at his hair back with a whine in response.

“If you are jealous you can just say so you do not have to bite me, you child.”

He can only smile because it’s his hair you’re yanking at. You’re sitting on him and-

“I’m not jealous. Not in this moment anyways,”

One of his hands slides up your hunched forward torso, and he’s pulling you down by the woven fabric of your top. You’re not sure if he’s pulling you down to kiss him. You figure with the state of things though a kiss wasn’t an unwelcome advance, and you’re not surprised when his head lifts to kiss you back.

It’s better than any silly fantasy you had ever let yourself drift into because he’s warm and real and he’s kissing you like you’re fragile because he wants you to feel safe enough to be fragile. He wouldn’t have wasted so much time becoming a competent warrior if it wasn’t to keep you safe.

“How could you think I’d want to share a brain with Ao’nung huh? I’d kill myself.” you smile against his lips, “as if I’d ever want him over you,”

And he knows you’re not lying to him as the fluff of your tail tickles against a throbbing vein in his lower stomach. How could you be lying when you’re hunched over uncomfortably while you straddle him just so you could purr into a kiss? His big hands cradling your cheeks makes you ignore the ache in your spine, and you thank Eywa he’s so big as to add ease to the position.

By some stroke of luck, his hand travels down your spine as if to soothe the ache while your tongues swirled against each other. Despite the trembling ache that plagued your lower stomach at the endearing turn of events, Rotxo kisses you, softly. As if you’re not dying for him. Even though you straddle him his chest and move against him to relieve the pressure he inflicts on you. You’re very obviously making out with him. Willingly letting his mouth explore yours at his own pace. You can’t help but slide down his torso so you could lay on top of him properly.

You couldn’t get over how wide you still had to spread your legs to straddle his waist. Even though you laid over him caging his body under yours he engulfed you. You need to breathe far earlier than he does, and he finds it cute how you huff against his lips to catch your breath.

“You’re not going to let Ao’nung touch you anymore, ya?”

And he can’t help the dopey pitch of his voice as he catches your lips in a quick kiss. Not when you’re beaming down at him.

“Only if you touch me instead,”

You sound so coy considering you’re giggling above him. And when you enunciate your words with another kiss he can’t help the obnoxious chortle that leaves his lips- that’s until you bite at his bottom lip slightly,

“You are too bossy,”

But he kisses you the way you want him to. Pushing his nose against yours. He doesn’t think he can like anything more until he feels your hips grind against the lower abs of his stomach- that tighten and flex at the feeling of your now twitching core.

The confidence the both of you had mutually worked up to had you lost in your own world. You know it’s unbecoming of you both to be caught in such a situation but you had enough confidence in your privacy and even less confidence in your own self-control to do anything about it.

“Sit on my face,” it comes out as a gaspy whisper between your clanking teeth while you grind against him, “Let me take care of you instead,”

It makes you whimper above him and he swears it’s some sort of nirvana.

“I-I’ve never-” and you are mad at how wet the inside of your mouth is and yet it still offers no solace to the lump in your throat

“No’ gonna make you,”

You’re not sure if the sound of him slurring into your mouth makes you moan or the fact that your tail finds and runs across his erect member behind you.

“Obviously want you to,” and his palm is on your cheek, “wanted you on my mouth since you plopped down on me,”

He’s kissing you between his words and you know he means it. You can hear it in his voice. He just about died of excitement when he felt you propping yourself up on your knees.

Now that you’re back up he can admire your pretty body once again. He thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you not take the lead. It made him blush- realizing how shy you had suddenly become. He’s gentle when he reaches for your thigh again, sliding up until his fingers reach the fabric of your tweng,

“Can I?”

You wondered how the sun would rise in the morning when it was trapped in his smile. Looking up at you as if you were Eywa herself. How could he possibly think you don’t want him to untie it?

You don’t know how to say yes without embarrassing yourself, so you do what any rational woman would do when the love of their life was laid between their legs. You reach up to the fabric tie of your beaded top, and let it fall from your body, plopping down in the sand next to you.

You can’t ignore the throb that plagues you at the widening of his eyes, how they instantly drop to your breasts. The only cover from his eyes are the few strands of hair.

You’re almost shocked at his fumbling fingers. Too excited to uncover you and too large for the delicate fabric, yet like all things that required a gentle hand- Rotxo succeeded at his task quickly. Obediently you let his palms guide your hips up. He is rewarded with one more sway of your tail over his quickly hardening length as tosses your bottoms in the opposite direction of your top.

You're breathing heavily when he cranes his neck to look at your most intimate flesh,

“Oh, Eywa,”

He can feel himself leaking all over his stomach at the sight of your bare cunt against his torso, and the warm feeling of you dripping could drive him to madness.

“C’mere, give me you.”

You listen of course. He feels bad that he likes you best like this. Tentatively crawling up his large chest to place your legs on the side of his head.

He doesn’t feel bad for enjoying the view of you hovering above his face. He can’t believe he had done this. He can’t believe you’re swollen, sticky, and wet for him.

His hands are wrapping around the fat of your thighs to pull you into open-mouthed kisses against your thighs. You’re mad it feels so good- he’s not even touched you and yet your thighs twitch where he kisses.

You reward him with a real moan at the quick swipe of his tongue from the bottom of your leaking hole right across your clit. Though he didn’t truly know what he was doing, he knew what he wanted to do. That was enough. You seemed to like what he was doing regardless. He likes kissing you. Feeling the way your lips twitch against his. His tongue finds a comfortable rhythm exploring your folds. You tasted like nothing he had ever eaten before. He couldn’t compare you to anything else- and there wasn’t a thing in Pandora he’d rather in his mouth.

Though you're panting and wiggling your hips in front of his face he still wants to give you more. Wants to wrap his arms around your thighs and take care of you the way you should be taken care of. He doesn’t know why he has such a need to take care of you, especially since you had caused him so much grief. He knows you’re more than willing and capable of handling him mating you without any of this - but he can’t help it. He wants to spoon-feed the world to you; do everything for you. Even if it means doing all the work to get that pretty pussy of yours to cum in his mouth.

His desire to take care of you is probably why one of his big hands finds your hips. Why it slides across your smooth skin and his thumb hooks under your tail to push you down and forward onto his wanting mouth.

“I said sit-” he speaks into your cunt, the vibrations of his voice making you clench your stomach.

He can feel his dick jump at the way you cry at the feeling of him grinding your sensitive pussy against his wanting mouth, legs clamping down against his blood-rushed ears. When he finally slides his tongue into your twitching hole again he can’t help but reach down to squeeze at the base of his throbbing dick. Just for a second, he could pretend you were clamping down on his cock and not his rapidly exploring tongue. You’re too busy following along with the motion Rotxo’s hand around your tail provides for you to notice what he’s doing, however. When you’re so blissed out that you lean back to brace your hands onto his chest he can’t help but take in the sight of your thrown-back head. Your hair was behind you now and he could watch the night sky illuminate the swell of your breasts. He can’t be bothered to feel bad at watching you so vulnerable and unaware when he’s the one to cause it.

With the added space of you leaning off of him slightly, he was able to drag his face across your leaking cunt as if he were a starved animal ripping into a meal.

You feel dirty- for the way your head quickly snaps forwards to watch the way he shakes his head back and forth between your legs. There’s no hiding the mess below you at this point. The twinkling night does little to hide the slick connecting you to him. And you feel yourself leak even worse when his relaxed eyes blink open and he catches you staring at him. When he slows his movements to take in the look on your face.

“Ro- don’t- Rotxo-“

Embarrassment is evident in your voice despite the fact he feels like his face is burning brighter than yours. He can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that you’re sitting on his face, you’re letting him eat you out.

He wraps his lips around his new favorite part of your body, sucking the nerve into his mouth with a cruel pop. Kissing it after you cry out,

“You feelin' good?”

His words are soft, as you feel his thumb caress the underside of your tail. You only try to sit back down on his face with a wiggle of your hips. Rotxo has finally found a happy middle ground where he felt confident with you, however. Gripping your tail tighter to keep your greedy cunt off of his face.

“Answer me,”

And with his words comes a gentle graze of his sharp teeth against the pulsating sticky skin of your clit. He’s never heard you make the noise that responds to his assault. A cry or a hiss he wouldn’t know- but it was his new favorite sound. He’s only licking you- it’s only at the work of his tongue that your legs are shaking so prettily on his cheeks.

“Yes- yes you know I am-“ You start, “can you keep going now?”

It’s the fake polite voice you use that makes him scoff. He finds it endearing how badly you try to grind yourself against him in the same rhythm he had previously helped you with. But with his grip on your tail, and the punishingly slow strokes of his tongue against your slit you stayed bubbling on the edge. You’ve never been so pliable for anyone before, he thinks. He’s never seen you so whiney over anything.

“Rotxo please!”

Your please is a little too mean. It wasn’t you asking him to make you feel good. You were being bossy and rude. Red face screwed up in frustration as if you had still been scolding him for the fact he wouldn’t hit you. Maybe it’s why his other hand leaves your hip for a second to swat at the fat of your ass.

Between you sidling forward onto his face, and the fact that your pretty little tail wagged across his painfully hardened cock he couldn’t help but moan right into you.

The guttural moan of his deep voice sends a shock wave up your body that has one hand digging into the sand next to his head and the other hand pulling at the mess of curls on top of his head. Maybe he understood your annoyance at his stubborn desire to hold back before. Because right now you are doing the same.

All he wanted was for you to cum. So one hand returned to your pretty tail to help you grind your clit against his face. It was cute how you tensed at the feeling of the tip of his fingers that had risen up against the hole that so willingly leaked all over him. You don’t even give him a chance to ask if you’re okay with it before you sink back into his fingers, ruining the kiss Rotxo had just begun assaulting your clit with.

The sight of spit connecting his swollen lips to your cunt, and the feeling of one of his finger reaching deeper in you than you had ever been able to touch makes you tremble above him. He’s rocking you against his face while he begins an almost punishing assault on your hole.

In his defense, he wasn’t truly aware of how punishing the pace was. The only thing he was focused on was the steady ripple of your ass against his knuckles. So blissfully unaware of how much louder your voice had gotten. The wet sound he was greeted with as he slid a second finger inside you only spurred the speed of his hand more.

“I- I… Ro I feel-”

And he feels the tip of your tail softly lay across his aching cock as though to anchor yourself as you arch forward into his face, thighs trembling. He moans at the ache of his scalp as you pull him into you and he can’t help but open his eyes wide.

Eywa is Rotxo glad he did. He knows he’s going to remember this for the rest of his life- the view of your pretty legs choking him in a vice grip and pussy clenching up on his fingers while you practically scream. You don’t listen to yourself though, not when you’re preoccupied with the sound of him slurping against you. As if he’s never enjoyed something more- and he’s smiling against you as he alternates, scraping his teeth against you, and sloppily kissing you though your orgasm. All while his fingers still slowly curl inside of you.

You feel like you should be embarrassed, panting above him- trying to force oxygen into your deprived lungs and brain. He doesn’t make you feel awkward though. Not even for a second. Not while he’s petting your thigh and smiling up at you between his movements.

“You’re alright?”

The hum of his voice was questioning. You couldn’t help that part of you felt as though he was telling you that you were alright though. Maybe that’s why you felt so at ease.

“Better than alright,”

Your coquettish grin has him pawing at your thighs to scoot you back down off of him. Even though he’s never enjoyed doing something more than taking care of you, the feeling of your tail twitching against the tip of his throbbing cock had raised an unfamiliar pain in his stomach. Besides, the sinful sounds you had been making for him; the pretty dazed face had coaxed you into had made him confident enough to not want to be under you any longer.

You instinctually wrap your arms around his neck as you feel him begin to sit himself up. One arm wrapped tightly under your ass (giving himself the luxury of wrapping one of his meaty palms around the meatier fat of your ass) to keep you from sliding down into his lap until he had sat up completely, and could position you comfortably.

You can’t help but smile at how disheveled he looks. His hair is all askew from you yanking at it and his face is completely blushed and wet from all the effort. The way the corners of his lips twitch into a smile by the time your bare slit makes contact with him is almost mischievous in a way. As if he was expecting the gasp that falls from your lips as he drags you down across the tweng that painfully constricts the parts of him that hadn’t hardened out of it. It finally relieves some of the pressure knotting at the pit of his stomach. You could never wrap your mind around how sitting on his lap could be so calming yet intimidating. You can’t help but reach for the sand covered curls at the back of his head pulling desperately to fill the gap the height difference caused. Wanting nothing more than for him to bless you with another kiss.

Of course, he obliges. He doesn’t think he could ever deny you a single thing now. Not when you’re grinding down onto him while kissing him. Dragging the fabric across the both of you, and Eywa when you run your tongue across his lips with a giggle he has to stop himself from cumming between the both of you.

Feeling the way his tip leaks against your belly button has your heart beating so impossibly fast that the rattling it causes in your rib cage hurts.

“We do not have to do anything else,”

He doesn’t want to remind you. He really does not. He wants nothing more than to sink you down onto him- but he doesn’t want you to feel pressured. To feel unsafe. If you had never touched him again he’d have lived happily with this moment like gold in his memory. He thanks Eywa however, when you whine at the insinuation, thread your fingers around his kuru, and your pretty snarl makes contact with his own teeth.

“Don’t make me go and find Ao’nu-”

You don’t even finish your hiss before he swats at your ass again, appreciating the way your skin recoils, and thighs tremble at his sides and for you to yelp into him. How dare you say his name with your hand where it was? Has he been too nice to you these years? Too gentle with you?

“Watch it,”

You had heard Rotxo growl before. Never at you- but you had seen what he was capable of when he did get aggressive with people. Yes, he was a sweet and gentle boy- but he was also rowdy, brawling, and all too bellicose. But because he was normally so saccharine to you, you had forgotten all about the rest of Rotxo. Big, honorable, and strong Rotxo who you had seen slam down elder warriors with years of experience on him like they were weightless. Those same muscular, intricately tattooed arms were now using the fat of your hips and ass to grind you down against him. As if to make up for the cruelty of your words your other hand reaches down, and though you had frustrated him he can’t help but buck his hips into you at the feeling of your hand sliding down the hood of his cock so you could run a thumb across his exposed tip.

“I want you. I thought I was being pretty obvious. Reya makes fun of me for it.”

You don’t know why you whisper to him, you don’t think you had ever been as soft-spoken before.

“I am just stupid-”

And his frustrations leave him at the feeling of your hands loosening around both his hand and kuru. He can’t help but slide his face against yours, slotting his nose against yours. He breaths against your face once before he speaks,

“You are not a stupid girl,” and there’s a kiss placed on your cheek under your eye as one palm raises to cradle the opposite one, “you are at least smart enough to undo a knot, yeah?”

He keeps his usual warm and syrupy baritone voice, yet there’s a condescending undertone to his voice that shoots straight down to your core. It makes your ears flatten against your head, and your eyes widen. He was almost bitter that all it took to intimidate you was to imply he wanted to impale you on his cock. Why did he waste all this time becoming such a revered deep-sea diver and warrior?

“Or are you, pretty girl?”

There’s more jest in his voice; his heart swelling at how cute you were when you weren’t being a menace. So cute in fact that he can’t help but kiss the crown of your head as he watches both of your hands reach down to untie his tweng. He supposes he could have just yanked it down, but he can’t help the rush that flows through him at the sight of you doing it. He swears he’ll ride this high for months- felt like he could fight a nalutsa all by himself.

That’s until he sees you sit up on his knees and realize what you’re going to do- what you want to do. It finally sinks in for him. You want him. Your fingers are on his kuru, your cums on his face- you chose him. Suddenly the sea breeze isn’t enough to keep him from overheating. He’s too aware of the sound of the waves and the sand that covers his back and hair and the fact that-

“Sayrìp,”

His eyes instantly leave your swollen pussy and raise to your face, locking with your eyes obediently. You smile up at him and he’s sure his pupils are as wide as yours.

“Are you okay?”

How can he not be okay when you're kissing his mandible? Teeth teasing against the pulse you’ve risen should drive him to dizzying madness but only acts to ground him back into reality,

“Jus’ cannot believe you’re here with me.”

It gives him a chance to swallow the lump in his throat,

“Who else would I be with, skxawng?”

And you're grasping at the base of him to hold his heavy leaning cock steady; he whines at the sight of your spit drooling past your pretty lips and hisses at the feeling of it plopping against him. He supposes you could use all the help you could get if you hoped to take him.

As you slide the girthy blunt tip against your slit he rewards you with a moan. A deep sound that reverberates against his chest. It makes you all too eager to try and sink down onto the tip.

But Rotxo’s arms are stronger than you and he doesn't want you to do that, so he uses that strength against you. Despite being so giving and nice on the regular, rolling over and letting you boss him around and do what you wanted he was going to mate you the way he wanted to, and you were going to take it.

When the jolt of his hands moving to hold your hips in place makes your pussy flutter against his tip he has to remind himself of that before he loses all of his resolve and pushes you down onto his length in one swift movement. The thought made him cringe. He didn’t waste all this time opening you up for him just to hurt you,

“You going to let me mate you, tsyeym?” He asks

If you think you could roll your eyes without invoking the hunter's wrath you would have. He was acting as though you hadn’t been pulling and tugging on his prettily kept braid since you had first felt his imposing length against you.

“I am not above begging,”

Though you’re chuckling softly in his ear your fingers are dancing down his kuru, and when your finally twirl the ends of his hair covering his tswin around your slender fingers he can’t help but slide just the first couple of inches of him into you. He can’t tell if he feels your fingers caressing his nerves more or the far too-tight ring of your pussy sucking him into you.

“Ma’Rotxo-”

Your free hand braces yourself down on his bicep, digging your fingernails into his flesh as if you’re the one overstimulated.

“Thought you were tough, huh?” He chides, “Wanna fight with me but can’t even take me bullyin’ my cock into ya, huh?”

If you were mean you would have tugged on his braid, giving him a semblance of the perineum sting you felt at the girth of him-

“Don’t be an asshole to me, Rotxo.”

You’re trying to be bossy still and it doesn’t suit the fact that your body feels so pliable in his hands. He doesn’t even dignify you with an answer, not when he wants you to be flush against his hips. Not when he wanted you to feel as much of him as you could before he made you feel even more. He feels a little bad that you’re so small in comparison to the Metkayina people. Though an embarrassing part of him loves the idea of spending the rest of his life drilling into your warmth until you’re molded to him he worries about how sore you’d be in the morning. He promises himself that he’d be extra kind to you tomorrow- tend to anything you could want. He will take care of you as a thank you for the way you were about to let him use you.

You couldn’t think of a time when Rotxo hadn’t taken care of you- this felt no different. So when you feel one of his hands caress you on the mission to reach around your body and pull you apart further so that more of him could slide inside all you do is huff and give into his guidance.

“Look at you,”

He sounds winded at the feeling of you clenching against him. You’re surprised he enters as easily as he does. Surprised the pressure doesn’t hurt as bad as you feared it would. Especially when one of his thumbs moves over your clit in soft quick motions,

“Just gotta relax a lil’ more.”

His eyes are fixed down; watching you take him inside of you. He doesn’t even care anymore that the end of his braid is held in your soft hand. He ignores the uncomfortable throb that shoots through it. He only has to endure seconds more of it before he’s rewarded with the slippery plap of your hips meeting. He feels bigger than ever when your hands leave their respected body parts to grab at his cheeks. He’s sure you meant to kiss him but you only managed to moan against his open mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he kisses you, “Took it all so good.” another kiss,

“Fucking Metkayina- too big,” Of course, you’re grumbling right now. Of course, you have a grumpy little voice even when he’s in your guts.

“You are rude,” one of his arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against him, partially to appreciate your warmth but mostly so he could reach around and grab your own braid.

“Shouldn’t even touch this now, huh?”

His soft eyes give him away, and he knows you know him too well. You know that once you pull his braid over his shoulder that he’d rush to bring yours closer.

You were right of course, he’s quick to hold the bioluminescence of your tswin’s tendrils painfully close to his own. There’s something that makes your stomach tighten painfully at the sight. There was something so exciting about the fact that you were so close to being with him- all you had to do was dip your hand forward. The thought has you rolling your hips down against him to alleviate the throb of your clitoris. It’s all he needs before his other hand leaves your hip to grab your wrist that holds his tswin.

“Look at me,”

You’re so good for him. So obedient when your eyes instantly snap from where your hands almost make you one- to his eyes. He thinks you’re so beautiful. Sultry and warm and so undeniably wild. So easily he gives into the magnetic force that’s been trying to convince him to pull your tswin into his.

He thinks his heart stops at the way your eyes haze over and you melt into him. The way you practically purr as he feels his lap grow wetter. Now you were all of those things- but you were also his.

“Oh, Eywa,”

He feels bad for how roughly his one arm pulls you into him, he feels how much fuller it makes you feel but he has to feel your heartbeat against him. He thinks this is bliss- that he can’t get anything better than this. Then you begin scooting your hips back and forth against his. His hands are too quick to reach for your hair, digging his fingers into it.

The pretty way your face screws up as your pace quickens has him star-struck. The echo of your pleasure tickled his lower stomach. He can’t help but lift his hips to meet yours; the slapping sound of skin as you bounced against him is enough to spur him into near madness. Both of your throats are caught- stunned in silence over the sheer amount of feeling tsaheylu adds.

He feels bad because he knows you feel so good going at your own pace and using him to fill yourself to your heart's content. He can’t focus on that guilt when he has such an uncontrolled need to be on top of you. His hands halting your hips have you confused, and you’re only more shocked when he’s heaving you up and tossing the both of you until your back is against the sand and your hips are hiked on his firm thighs.

He doesn’t even give you a second to take in the change, slipping himself all the way into you in one fluid movement, palms returning to the fat of your hips so he could roll and grind down into you. He loves the way you clench as he rolls across your g-spot. The view is beautiful, and the way your hands reach between your thighs and rub your fingers against yourself for him only drives him further into ecstasy.

“So pretty for me,” He loves how easy it is to make you clench and throb. “My pretty mate,”

His eyes are fixed on the way your breasts bounce at the power of his thrusts and the way your stomach bulges. He knows if he focuses on your pretty face he’d be finished the way your wide eyes don’t focus on anything and the dark purple stain of your blush. He’s never quite seen your markings glow so bright. He’d never live down finishing before he even got a chance to fuck you properly- before he could really appreciate the view. So he grabs at your hips and wiggles you side to side in an effort to stimulate you further,

“Let me fuck you for real now baby,” and his hand travels up your legs that are bent against your bodies, straightening one leg over his shoulder so he could kiss your calf. How could you say no when he asks so sweetly while he was so deep inside of you?

“Please? Can you please move again?”

He forgot you could be so polite when you want to be. He’s all smiles, starting at a comfortable pace. His speed picked up quickly as he could use your whole leg as an anchor, but he still stays relatively shallow. Just to give you enough time to adjust before he picks up a punishing pace.

He knows he’s fucking you entirely too loud. He knows the way you moan under him is entirely too loud. He knows the nighttime waves aren’t loud enough to drown out what he’s doing to you but all it does is spur him on. He wishes you’d be louder but he knows you have more dignity than he does.

How can he slow down when you’re telling him he’s so good? You’re gasping as he falls forward onto one hand for more leverage. Still holding your hips up by one leg so he could slam into you. The change of position has you dragging sinfully across him and it almost distracts you from the sound of his grunts. It was magnifying seeing him worked up over you- he wasn’t even in a rut and had desired you so deeply.

“Gon- Shit. Roxto 'm gonna cum,”

The way he reacted to your words is what sends you over the edge. The way he hunches over and begins to slam into you while his eyes bore into yours. The sloppy sound of you cumming all over him and your eyes rolling into you head bring him closer more than the feeling of you clamping down on his cock. He didn’t think you could squeeze tighter and it’s embarrassing how easy you make him cum. Just barely enough time to slip out and shoot himself all over you.

He means to hit your stomach honestly, expecting it to pool where you had been slightly folded. Except he had forgotten how worked up you had gotten him- how badly he had wanted to cum in you. The sheer amount that painted your warm stomach and azure boobs should have embarrassed him but the sight of his cum shooting further and globbing on your chin and lips consumes him. You lay half folded under him, grasping onto him while you panted. Covered in his cum. No one could get near you without knowing you were his.

He can’t help but act on his desires and lean down to cage his big arms around you. Running his tongue up your chin and across your lips. You taste the salt on his lips when he immediately kisses you, and at the bite of his teeth, you’re opening your mouth so he can spit him into your mouth.

It should be raunchy and make you feel like a whore but he does it so softly and kisses you so libidinously that the swirl of his tongue against yours has you both purring into each other's mouth.

You’re perplexed at how quickly he’s back to sweet Rotxo. Kissing you gently and caressing skin that just knew the punishing grip of his strength.

He’s tall when he sits up on his knees, and now that he’s not hunched over rutting into you it truly dawns on you just how much bigger he is than you.

He scoffs as he looks around him and you’re almost confused until you watch him lean over to grab both of your bottoms before he’s grinning down at you and scooping his hands under you.

His cheeks hurt from smiling at the sound of you giggling foolishly at him as he heaves you into the air. You're both red-faced and covered in sweat and sand and he can’t wait to walk into the cooling water with you in his arms.

#rotxo imagine #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar fandom #avatar smut #rotxo smut #rotxo x reader #atwow rotxo #rotxo fluff #he’s so babygirl #i want him #aonung x reader

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lovesickry · 7 months

Text

- let the light in.

┈⋆⭒ lando norris x rival femdriver!reader [2.3k] ┈⋆⭒ prologue !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here! ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contains: swearing .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: this is an enemies/rivals to lovers and I am so incredibly excited to write this so here's the prologue. :)

2022 season, driver for Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula 1 team.

You hadn't had a problem with Lando Norris. You weren't friends by any means but you used to smile at him, give him a pat on the back when he did well on the weekend. You used to scoff at some of his sly jokes he made to reporters. You used to be polite acquaintances. That was until the moment you saw something in him you despised. Something that you saw as unforgivable.

-MIAMI GRAND PRIX 2022

You were on pole.

You were actually on pole.

For the first time in your career you had taken pole.

The feeling was something incomparable to just about anything you’d ever experienced.

Stepping out of the car, having everyone congratulate you as you beamed, walking to the media pen for post-qualifying interviews smiling like an idiot. It was your first pole in your career and it warranted something to talk about. Though it had taken years for the interviewers to not comment on your gender, you relished in the fact that not a single interview today had asked about how it felt to have long hair or if it was uncomfortable wearing a racing suit and also having tits. Or how it felt that your competitors would always have a “biological advantage”. There was not one single comment made even similar to the quietly yet blatantly sexist comments you were so used to receiving and combatting. These interviews as pleasant as they were remained about the car, about the race and about the track. Things you loved to talk about when people actually listened. You look back at Carlos and Charles and they both whisper congratulations mid-interview. Miami definitely wasn't your favourite, the track was alright but what you hated the most (nevermind sounding stuck up) were the fans or atleast some of them. You'd already had too many shit experiences with middle aged white men telling you that Mercedes was a team purely for “show” or that they shouldn't make formula one a “political” sport. Are you fucking joking?

On the other hand, all the women you met were lovely, telling you how proud they were, how amazing you were. But all the men, oh they would either compliment you or insult you, both were equally uncomfortable experiences. Nevertheless, it was something you’ve sadly gotten used to and something you refused to dwell on this weekend. Your pace was superb, you had got pole after all and the idea that a win was in the books was one that kept you awake that night. Although needing the sleep just as bad.

The morning brought a wave of heavily suspected nerves, your hands were shaking annoyingly and you kept having to hide the fact from the cameras, so as to not make a story out of it, something that you inwardly (and outwardly) despised journalists about. Their ability to stick their nose in things so clearly marked “Keep Out!” You'd already seen about seven articles this year, making up some bogus story about how you and charles were secretly dating or some weird romantic trope, getting all these photos of friendly interactions and marking it up to PR interactions and we were secretly dating. It was funny actually, the lengths people would go to just to somehow justify their hate for you. At Least if you were dating a driver they could say you were only in the sport because, oh how did Christian Horner put it. “The drivers are good looking.” Which is exactly why you’d made sure to stay strictly friends with every single one, dating completely and totally outside the Formula 1 fucked up family circle.

As the media commitments finally wrapped up and you did the final interviews before being let go to prepare for the race you bumped into Alex, you admired him as a driver and he was always kind to you, he wished you good luck and congratulated you on your first pole before excusing himself to be escorted to the Williams garage. As you said, you were friendly with most of the drivers. You reach your drivers room and let out a sigh of relief seeing your physio standing there already. You do some quick warmups, stretches exercises before she asks if anything is hurting. You mention a point in your lower back in which she focuses on and does a few different methods on relieving some of the pain before you need to get in the car. You weigh in and settle into the car, brain fuzzed and hands though not shaking were sweaty and your heart was beating so loud you thought you might die, the sound feeling as though it was echoing around your helmet. Checking through the last thing with the engineers, suddenly you were alone on the track, open track ahead of you for the first time, you were starting alongside Max, who you knew was heavily tarnishing your chance of a win, but there was still the hope for a better start and better strategy. Maybe just maybe you could keep him behind?

Formation lap, returning back to your places, you were doing what you were taught, think of nothing, think of nothing, close the door, close the door. Close the door. Breath, you dont dare to blink as you watch the lights one by one before they all go off. Zooming off into the first corner your mind is blank as you like it and you are focused. You’re aware of your jaw tensing as you keep max behind going into turn 8. Your engineer is giving you lap by lap updates but its not helping as you push and push to keep him barely 1.2 seconds behind. You managed the pace but you noticed going into lap 23 that the rear tires were sliding, feeling it through turn 14 and 15 as you glimpsed max in your mirrors just as you swerved slightly. You were still in the lead however and feeling confident enough that pitting know and losing places would just mean others pitting later. You mention on the radio about the rears and they tell you to watch the tire deg for a few more laps and then they’ll bring you in. you reply in a quick yes before racking your brain on how the fuck youre going to handle these for another “few” laps. Not surprisingly max overtakes you on the next lap at turn 10 and you immediately opt to pit. You exit the pit lane acutely aware of the position you will come out in. P10, great. The tires took what felt like years to finally heat up and for you to actually start gaining positions but once you gained one, it all fell into place. The undercut had worked as everyone stopped to pit for fresh tires you gained time and on the 38th lap you’d found yourself right back in p2, comfortably looking at the rear wing of max verstappen who was yet to pit as he started on the hard not the mediums. But, you figured he'd be feeling the rears go soon and you could just wait it out but also, as you were reminded by your race engineer: manage paceand defend behind. Going into the 39th lap you watched as verstappen pulled into the pit lane and your jaw for the first time in nearly 40 laps, relaxed. If you could just keep the tires until the end this was yours. Your engineer alerted you that max had come out in p11 and although he was on mediums, it would still take him what they estimated to be 12 laps to reach the top pack again. Currently you were driving steady, your gaze was forward and you remained ahead by 2.3 seconds, an honourable lead but you could always push. The straights seemed to test the car more as Charles gained 0.8 in the straight but lost that same time almost immediately in the corners. Going into lap 49 your engineer alerted of the gap between you and p2,3,4 and 5. It was only 3 seconds. fuck , fuck fuck. Verstappen was still climbing and you were still losing grip with 8 laps left could you seriously make these shitty tires last, your questioned was answered as you grazed the wall coming out of turn 2, your rear tires simply giving out as you righted the car.

“Did you just see that?”

“Yes we did” “What can I do? I'm losing grip”

“Norris is .9 behind”

“Yeah alright thanks”

No help, cool. But now norris was behind, what happened to Charles. Aw what the fuck these tires were shit and the only hope was the brief 5 laps, however they seemed to be stretching out hopelessly as you locked up again and again. It was nearly undriveable approaching the 54th lap.

“Norris is .7 behind, he has been advised to overtake”

You don’t bother to respond, you’re trying to figure out how the fuck to still win this race, focusing all your will power into defense now as the McLaren inches dangerously closer to your rear wing. You’re cautious as you follow the racing line through turn 11, but your brain clocks out the minute that you glance in the mirror and see Lando Norris’ wheel impossibly close to yours as he attempts an overtake on the outside. You pray for no contact and it's futile, all the fucking effort you put in and the tire management was all fucking useless, because thanks to Lando Norris and his bullshit strategy and sheer fucking selfishness he hits your rear wheel sending you into straight into the barrier. What should’ve been your first win in formula one was made into a fucking joke as you watched the McLaren drive off unopposed. There were simply no words to describe the sheer anger you felt, your jaw tensed again, your teeth fucking shook and suddenly you wanted to cry. You knew you shouldn't.

Reminding yourself of where you were, you lifted your head up, being met with the red and yellow of the barrier.

“Are you okay?”

You have nothing to say, afraid your voice might break or you'll scream. You reach out and lift yourself out of the car.

Nothing could've prepared you for the red that filled your vision as you watched Lando Norris lift up that first place trophy that should've been yours.

Of course you were jealous but you weren't just that. You were fucking furious. Not only had he crashed into you, ruining your race. He had blamed it all on you, in a post race interview he said-

"yeah, no. I mean I don't think anyone is to blame but I also think she was in a position where she should have let me by and when she braked late she sent her wheel into mine."

A fucking lie. nobody is to blame? maybe the person who actually hit your fucking wheel maybe, the person trying to steal my fucking racing line maybe? There was no fucking consoling you as you made your way as quietly as you could to the McLaren garage, at least hoping for an apology. You spot him talking to Carlos and you go over, initially only facing Carlos, congratulating him on his points before turning to Lando, who is standing there with a smug look on your face. You want to punch him.

"I'm sorry about how your race ended Dylan, I really thought you had this one" Carlos sounded genuine and he rubbed your shoulder while he said it. It was a nice thing to say but you were acutely aware of Lando's presence.

"Thanks Carlos" I nod

"sorry but do you think I could speak to Lando alone please?"

he nods and walks off as Lando outwardly groans, you turn towards him and wait. For anything.

"Nothing? Really?"

he raises his eyebrows "What?"

Your nostrils flare and you swallow as you try to fathom this.

"No fucking apology Norris?" its not the most polite thing, but its the most polite things on a list of things to say to him.

he pouts his lips jokingly and then pops his lips.

"Nup."

That's it, something in your brain fizzles over, you're as angry as you can contain and you just stand there stoic looking at his smug fucking face as he holds what should've been your trophy. There is a bitter taste in your mouth as you smile out of sheer disbelief, an unnerving smile before leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

"I didn't brake late and you fucking know it"

You ignored the way his lips twitched into a kind of twisted smile or the way he went to respond before you walked away.

As you walk away from him your breathing is shallow and fast, he doesn’t try and argue with you and you are still fuming as you reach the hotel and try to sleep. Ending up on the treadmill, running until you couldn't be angry anymore but the minute you stopped it all came flooding back, blood on fire again and you were back in those fucking barriers. Your jaw tensed, you would never ever look in the direction of Lando fucking Norris again.

#source: cafekitsune #f1 #f1 fic #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris enemies to lovers #lando norris smut #lando norris angst

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lovelyjj · 2 months

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8wwy3pu/

Hi I was wondering if you could do reader sitting at the restaurant with her boyfriend jj or Rafe and their with some friends and reader is scrolling through TikTok and ask jj or Rafe to do this trend (if not just ignore this)

TikTok Trend

jj maybank x reader

a/n: I lowkey hate this i’m so sorry it’s short but thank you so much for requesting!

The restaurant was fairly busy. You were with your friends, the pogues and your boyfriend JJ. You were waiting for your food and talking about what you were gonna do next.

“We could go out on the boat,” John B suggested.

“Or we could do a bonfire at the beach,” Kiara chimed in.

“That sounds nice,” you admitted.

Eventually your food arrived and you all enjoyed eating. The waitress refilled your drinks and you appreciated it. After you were done eating you pulled out your phone.

You started scrolling on tiktok, mindlessly looking at videos. Then you stumbled upon a trend. The trend was to pretend you don’t know each other and then hug or kiss. You immediately wanted to do it with JJ.

“Jayj?” you called.

“Yes sweetheart?” JJ replied.

“Will you film a tiktok with me?” you asked.

“Yeah sure.”

“Ok you have to pretend you don’t know me and then bump into me and then kiss or hug me,” you explained.

“Sounds good,” JJ confirmed he herd you.

The restaurant you were eating at was on the pier. So the two of you excused yourselves and walked down the pier a little bit. Once you found an open spot with no other people walking around, you set up your phone.

You leaned your phone against the railing and hit record. You and JJ got into frame and avoided each others gaze. You started walking and JJ started walking towards you. You bumped into each other and gave each other confusing looks.

Then JJ grabbed your face with both hands on your cheeks. He kissed you with passion. He walked you backwards. Then the video stopped because the time was filled up.

“Let’s do it one more time just in case ok?” you suggested.

“Yeah ok,” JJ responded.

You set it up to record again and then backed up. JJ was looking away from you and you were looking away from him when you bumped into each other, and then looked confused. JJ stepped back a bit while you stayed in place.

JJ came running at you and scooped you up in his arms while you laughed. It was so cute. You went to retrieve your phone and watch the video back. You showed JJ and he thought it was perfect.

“Which one should I post?” you asked JJ.

“Hmm i don’t know maybe the first one,” JJ suggested.

You watched the first one and agreed with JJ. That was the one to post. It encompassed JJ perfectly. You were happy with it and you had a good time doing the trend.

As you walked back to your seats you posted the video on tiktok. You thought it was funny and sweet. Eventually you returned back to the table with your friends.

Later that day you were at the beach doing a bonfire. You were sitting on JJ’s lap around the fire with his arms wrapped around you. Everyone enjoyed the fire and the sound of the waves.

————-

The next morning you decided to check tiktok and you were blown away to see so many likes and comments.

Sarbear190: you guys are the cutest <3

JohnBeeee: JJ is a monstrosity

Kiarawithak: in love with your relationship

thepopeheyward: You two make me believe in true love.

Cleoisabaddie: Life is not perfect but the two of you are.

JJmaybank87: Love you forever and ever baby

There was quite a bit of other comments gushing over you and JJ. Comments like “goals” and “you’re so lucky.” The video did well, it got a lot of likes and you were pleased.

JJ was laying down next to you in bed. You put your hand on his cheek and said, “Good morning baby boy.”

“Good morning princess,” JJ grumbled.

You gave JJ a kiss on his lips before saying “I love you. We should make tiktoks more often.”

“I love you too and yeah of course we’re naturals.”

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thebroccolination · 1 year

Text

People Think Krist Is Homophobic (but He Isn’t)

[TW: discussions of homophobia, death threats, "the rape filter joke", etc.]

Last September, I made a thread about The Whole Krist Thing, and I'd like to make a version here on Tumblr as well.

NOTE: My being a queer fan of Krist doesn’t override the feelings or opinions of other queer people. I fully understand that time on this planet is limited and you don't need to exert precious energy into researching an actor. The reason I'm making this is to provide context for people who are new to the fandom or just wondering why Krist is known as homophobic.

- Why I Made the Twitter Thread -

As a queer international fan living abroad, my understanding of Thailand, Thai culture, and Thai language is extremely limited. Like most of us, I rely entirely on translations, both official and fan-made.

After watching SOTUS for the first time in 2020, I saw English-speaking fans claiming that Krist Perawat, the actor who played Arthit, was homophobic. And it wasn't just one or two people saying it. It was dozens. Hundreds. That called for some research. I loved Arthit, and Krist's empathetic portrayal of him didn't mesh with the angry guy in the Instagram photo I was seeing passed around.

I'd made a number of queer Peraya fans on Twitter, so I went to them individually and asked, "What's this about Krist being homophobic?" As queer fans who were knowledgable and openly fond of Krist, I wanted to hear their side of things.

They sent me links and photos and videos and translations that thoroughly explained how Krist's reputation for being homophobic had gotten so out of control. The problem: those things weren't compiled in one place, and they were all on Twitter where the Asian Peraya fandom is most active. Interfans, meanwhile, took the worst of everything they could find and compiled it into contextless videos for Instagram, YouTube, TikTok, etc. Since the vast majority of Krist's fanbase is spread across Asia and many of them don't engage with the international fandom, it's no wonder to me that the homophobia thing has become so ubiquitous over the years.

It's a paradox where, in order to see the evidence of Krist's allyship, you kind of have to be a fan already. Or you have to know which keywords to use to navigate Twitter's nightmare of a search function (I know, Tumblr is worse). While I made that thread, I was regularly texting Peraya I knew things like, "Do you know where that one interview from 2019 is?" or, "Did you take a screenshot of the marriage equality post he made last month?"

The thread was difficult to make, and I'm a fan! What I know of Krist, I know because I've been a fan for three years and I have access to information that fans who have been here much longer can find.

I also procrastinated on making it for ages. I knew the amount of vitriol people hold against him, and I just wanted to enjoy my time in fandom quietly without calling waves of anger and hate to my carefully curated little corner of sunshine.

Then Krist was in a car accident.

And even though he was reportedly driving safely and slowly, Thailand is notorious for its poorly maintained roads and a high number of traffic accidents. Only months after receiving his first driver's license, Krist's car flipped upside down, and he had to reassure fans from the hospital that he was physically all right, just shaken.

Meanwhile, some international fans thought it was funny.

And that's when I started making the thread.

So, with all that said, let's start with Krist's allyship, because I know most of us agree that that's the bare minimum for an actor working in the BL industry and profiting off the queer community.

- Acts of Allyship -

In the early days of their SOTUS fame, Krist and Singto were interviewed about the LGBTQ+ community.

Acceptance and equality is something that the LGBTQ community still struggles to achieve up to this day. But both Singto and Krist believe that this should not be the case. “They are just humans. They are like me, and they are like everyone,” Krist claims. Furthermore, he mentions that we should all be given the freedom to love anyone we want to love. “It’s just natural,” he says.

“They don’t have to understand now,” Singto says, referring to those who can’t grasp same-sex relationships. “One day, when they find their true love, they will realize that love is the same no matter the gender.” Krist adds, “Gender is not relevant when it comes to love. But in case some people still don’t understand this in time, what’s important is that we all give due respect to each other at the end of the day.”

He's also educated himself in colors representative of the LGBTQ+ community.

When Krist and Singto attended an award ceremony for their photoshoot in the gay magazine Attitude, Krist shared a sentiment that he gave to a queer friend of his. "If no one accepts you, you can stay with me, because I accept you for who you are." [Paraphrased]

Despite Thailand's current government leaning on BL series as a new soft power, it's still very conservative, and its people are to this day fighting to see equal marriage recognized.

Krist often adds his voice to this fight on Instagram, specifically as someone who works in the BL industry. These were in 2021 and 2022:

And, like many young people in Thailand, Krist also seems to support the Move Forward party. Earlier this week, he used an orange heart in a tweet to encourage people to go out and vote in the most recent election. One of the many things the Move Forward party is pushing for is the legalization of same-sex marriage "with the same rights and responsibilities as their heterosexual peers", which the current military government actively does not.

- His Circle -

When I was making my Twitter thread, I hesitated before including mention of his queer friends and coworkers. I knew how that would sound, but in the same way I felt it was important to mention my own queerness, I also think it's important to highlight not just the presence of queer people in his life, but how comfortable they are with him.

As I said in my Twitter thread, having queer friends isn’t indicative of anything substantial, but I do think it’s important to look at how those queer friends interact with him. If you’re queer, you know firsthand which friends you’d be physically affectionate with. The entertainment industry is its own world, of course, and the weight and meaning of relationships and connections can be different, but for all Krist's fame and popularity, he's not so famous or remotely powerful that faking a friendship with him is going to get them very far.

Among his queer friends, you've got Jennie who babies him, Godji who treats him like her son, and Oat who still adores him years after SOTUS. All of them queer, all of them visibly affectionate in a way that feels authentic, at least to me.

On the professional side of things, I think the best example of someone who wouldn't bother with him if he were homophobic is Golf Tanwarin Sukkhapisit. In 2022, Krist worked on The War of Flowers with Golf, a nonbinary queer activist, former MP, and director of The Eclipse. Since they're not just a queer person in the industry but a vocal queer activist who's made incredible progress for the community in their country, I value their judgment of his character.

Again, the reason I bring up these people isn't to say, "Look! Queer people! He knows some!"

It's to point out that he's close to them, and it disrespects their judgment to casually assume that they’d cosy up to a homophobe.

It's a small point, yes, but it was important to me when I first became a fan to see that queer people who know him personally had "vetted" him.

- Growth -

For this next section, I'll address three things I see brought up most often: the rape filter joke, the rumor that Krist said he doesn't like watching men kiss, and the claim that he's only doing BL because rent is due.

1) The Rape Filter Joke

In 2017, Krist and Singto were on a live with (I think) two other friends. They were testing out different filters, and when they got to a blur effect, one of them (one of the friends, I think) said it looked like the filter they put over victims of sexual assault on the news. They all laughed, including Krist and Singto.

I can't find a video of the original event, but we do have a translation of the apology he gave in 2018, and the public apology he made in 2020 when the video resurfaced again.

While this is unfortunate, and it would be nice if he hadn’t done it, I’m more interested in how he responds to criticism and his growth afterward. The incident was in 2017, but even speaking on it in 2020, he didn't make excuses for himself.

He apologized, accepted culpability, educated himself, and has never repeated it.

2) Krist "Doesn't Like to Watch Men Kiss"

There's also a claim that goes around that Krist said he doesn't like to watch men kiss. But that isn't what he said.

The subtitled interview that this claim was taken from has been split into two parts, and I think a lot of people have only seen the first half, if they've seen either.

(Also, my deepest apologies, but I'm linking you to Twitter for the video clips.)

In the first clip, the hosts tease Krist about Singto's sex scene with another actor in Close Friends. I can't speak to the nuances of what Krist is saying in Thai, but in the subtitles, he's basically saying that as a guy, he doesn't want to watch stuff like that and just skips past Singto and his partner to one of the other couples, like the male-female pairs. With just this clip, I agree that it doesn't sound great.

But in the second clip, the hosts tease Krist until he admits that the "stuff" he doesn't want to watch is Singto specifically kissing people who aren't him. Krist's jealousy, especially when it comes to Singto, is a well-trod fanservice joke.

3) He's Doing BL Only for the Money

I mean, I have no idea, but it'd be very weird if this was true, because he hasn't been in a BL since 2018 (if you count Our Skyy), and he's doing very well for himself financially.

Listen, this is probably the least serious people get when they criticize him, but I'm including it because why not, this is already a thesis.

From what I understand based on actors' comments, BL roles don't make a lot of money for the actors. (Boun even quoted a surprisingly low daily salary recently, and I'll share it here if I find it again.) Of course, I imagine Krist has enough fame and clout that he gets paid more than most actors, but to be frank, he absolutely makes more from all his other work.

Apart from the acting work he's done, he hosts two music shows, he starred in a musical recently, GMM just flew him to Japan for the first leg of his Asia concert tour, he runs a restaurant with Wave, and he has a bunch of sponsorships. And that's off the top of my head. The car from his accident in 2021 was a luxury model, and he replaced it with another pretty soon afterward. I'm not bragging for him or anything, but the "he's just doing BL for the money" is an odd thing to say when he probably already earns more than most without doing it.

It would have been a better argument back in 2016 when Krist's family was deep in debt. Krist's said that his main motivation to join the entertainment industry back then was to pay off that debt for his family, and he did so with the money he made from SOTUS.

Krist has spoken in the past about wanting to do more BL roles, but GMM preferred that he work with Singto. Now that Singto's left GMM (likely to start his own agency), Krist is in Be My Favorite, so I think his explanation tracks.

It's also worth mentioning that you can do something for the money and also love what you do. In the case of SOTUS, Arthit wasn't just a role that made him money, he's the character who changed Krist's life. He honors Arthit to this day by always wearing the bracelet he wore to his audition and by naming his music studio "SUN St." after Arthit.

(This is a very minor point, but I don't think a homophobe would cherish a queer role to quite that extent even if it was their kick-off point. If anything, they'd probably try to bury the role and pretend their real success started later.)

- Perception of Sexuality -

I think the reason the IG story hits people so hard is because Krist's reaction makes it seem like he's horrified that people could even think he's gay. My understanding is that he was tired of people interrogating him about his sexuality.

Krist is very openly affectionate with the people he loves, regardless of gender, which is clear in the photos with his friends above. Thus, he's always been like that with Singto. They hug before every show, they sleep on each other, cuddle, what have you. All the stuff of people who have developed a tight bond over the years.

When Krist was asked if he was afraid that that would put off potential partners in the future (which, good god, the questions they're asked) Krist said he doesn't care how people perceive his sexuality.

This was in 2018, the year Our Skyy aired, and he's said similar things in passing before and since.

- Conclusion -

All of what I've posted here is just a slice of what's out there. This is just the stuff I could find with reliable English translations because I'm making this for an English-speaking audience. Krist's fans already know all of this, which is why he has queer fans in the first place, and a lot of them are just too tired by hate fatigue to keep correcting misinformation.

I'm not trying to get every person in the world to like Krist, I promise. He's not perfect. He's a loud mess, and while he has four cats who love him, they're also exhausted by him. I just happen to like loud, obnoxious people, especially when they're as kind as he is.

There are plenty of Thai actors I don't vibe with for any number of reasons ranging from serious to petty. You have my written permission to dislike some people.

The Instagram story he posted was a bad move, we're all agreed. He agrees. He's apologized multiple times over the years. Whether one accepts his apologies is each person’s right, and I understand if this is enough to turn people away.

I just hope it's clear that he's been a staunch ally of the queer community and remains so to this day.

Personally, I'm more upset about the question.

This isn't a question you ask anyone.

And this wasn't the first fan to ask him.

According to people who have been fans from the SOTUS era, Krist and Singto were both relentlessly dogged by fans about 1) their sexualities and 2) details about their relationship with each other. We've all likely seen it happen to actors today, but back in 2016, there weren't hundreds of BL actors vying for the spotlight, so the spotlight hit Krist and Singto in a way that we can't imagine today. Most of us, myself included, arrived in this fandom long after SOTUS's meteoric rise to popularity that ended up saving GMMTV from bankruptcy, but given how many fans still behave like they're entitled to know an actor's sexuality, I think it's safe to trust that it was relentless. Fans accusing Kit Connor of "queerbaiting" as recently as 2022 is proof of that.

At the end of the day, there are plenty of reasons to dislike Krist, just like there are to dislike any person on this planet. He's hyperactive, he's whiny, etc. He's not flawless, but I think he's more than shown through his actions that he isn't homophobic, either.

He's not some actor playing queer roles for clout. He's vocally supportive of queer rights, and he backed that up this week in the polls by voting for the most progressive party in his country who are actively pushing for marriage equality.

But like I said, you don't have to like him, so I'll end this post with a quote from a friend who doesn't like Krist for the funniest reason I've ever heard:

"I don't think Krist is homophobic. I just don't like him because he reminds me of every kindergartener who demanded my attention at the exact moment when I was carrying something that could spill – and then it did spill, and they laughed about it for five minutes."

#krist perawat #be my favorite #if you made it to the end then i love you #thai actor #thai bl

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wosowrites · 1 year

Text

International Break (Leah Williamson x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️swearing, smut⚠️

a/n: still don’t know about smut. wont write it often, much prefer the cutesy little couple moments.

prompt: Leah and reader having fun with friends and together during the international break.

International break were your favorite days. They were always fun, easy and full of laughs. It also meant you were back to playing striker. For Chelsea, you were their solid defensive midfield, but all that changed when you entered Sarina’s house. She wanted you as the nine. A team car picked you up from your house at 6:00 on Sunday evening. You had met up at Millie’s house with the other Chelsea lionesses. You, Lauren, Niahm, Jess and Millie all sang carpool on the way there, but eventually you got tired and fell asleep. The drive was two hours long and you woke up 15 minutes before arrival to the girls making tik toks. "Did you all make tik tok’s with me sleeping in the back?" You asked the girls, laughing slightly. "Definitely. Posted this one twenty minutes ago and all the comments are about you, lady pleaser." Millie tested, showing you her phone. "You’re funny."

"Yeah Mills, there’s only one lady she wats too please." Lauren said. She was sitting beside you and laughed, pushing you gently with her shoulder. "Ha ha." You said.

Leah and you had been together for six months. Not a long time, but you thought you would die if you didn’t know she was all yours. You got out your phone and fixed your messy hair, letting your waves fall loose on your shoulders. "Making yourself all pretty?" Niahm said. "I hate you all and I can’t wait to be there so I don’t have to talk to you until we have to go back to the club schedule." You told them. But yes. You were. You hadn’t seen Leah since the conti cup final. Your heart had been broken at that loss. And then after that it was Champions League nights, and your schedules collided with each other annoyingly. You couldn’t wait to be with Leah again.

Soon later, the driver pulled up to where the Lionesses would be training. You let all the girls get out first, and as you got out you looked around. There were videographers and photographers, but you couldn’t care less about them. You saw Leah leaning against a brick wall parallel to where the Cars were pulling in. She was talking to Keira and Georgia, you knew how much she missed them. You didn’t even grab your luggage from the back because you saw Keira pointing to you. She waved at you cheekily and you smiled at her briefly before locking eyes with Leah. You gave her the biggest smile and ran towards her. She took a few steps forward and opened her arms for you to jump into. You wrapped your arms around her neck and your legs around her waist. She buried her head in your neck, breathing in the smell of your hair. You hugged her back tightly. "I missed you so much." You whispered to her, feeling her hands run up and down your back. "I missed you more." Leah said to you as she put you on the ground. She was a bit taller than you, but barely.

She helped you bring your luggage in as she had already been here for over two hours because of captain duties. You fist bumped the anon for the Lionesses, laughing at Leah as she did the most extra high five ever, and then you walked in and then headed towards the dining hall. Twenty minutes later everyone was there including Sarina and the rest of staff. Sarina did a little welcome speech and then it was time for the roommate picking. It worked the same way every time. Sarina would choose one of the girls to come up on a little stage their was at the front of the dining hall and the lioness would pick a name out of a bowl, and that would be their roommate for the whole training camp.

You were sitting at a table with Lotte, Keira, Georgia, Lucy and Leah when Sarina called people’s names. Niahm roomed with Rachel, Millie with Mary ( which would be chaotic, everyone groaned as Millie picked Mary’s name ), Lotte would be rooming with Esme. And then

"Y/n! Come up here." Sarina said. You smiled at her as the group started to clap and cheer as they did for everyone. You bowed jokingly and walked up on stage. "Pick your fate." Sarina said. "Please not Lucy, please not Lucy." You jokingly muttered into the mic, making the room laugh and Lucy raise her arms in defeat. You chose a slip of paper and pulled it out, opening it slowly. "Ha! No way." You said, turning the slip of paper for the group to see. "It’s you and me, Leah."

The group laughed at the luck you guys had. "No funny business eh!" Sarina said, making you blush basically purple. Everyone knew you were dating, but having the coach bring it up made you feel lightheaded with awkwardness. You walked back to the table and high fived Leah. No PDA during training was one of your big rules. Football was your job, and you knew to be professional.

So, you brought your luggage to yours and Leah’s room, room 222, and settled in. "Right or left bed?" You asked Leah who stopped in her tracks. "What?" You asked her, deciding to mess with her a bit. But your smirk at her look of confusion gave you away. Her frown turned into a smile as she jumped on you and pushed you onto the far bed. She laid on top of you, pressing kisses to your face and then to your lips. It got heated quickly and she started to push her hips into you, you weren’t exactly innocent either, moaning at her smallest touches. But then a knock echoed on the door and Leah was suddenly on her feet and getting ready to open the door while you were standing up and pretending to take off your shoes. You nodded towards her and she opened the door to find Lucy, Rachel, Millie and some of the younger girls standing at the door. "What are you all looking at us weird for?" You yelled at them making them chuckle. "Thought you’d be fucking already." Lucy smirked. "Lucy! Children!" You scowled at her as you walked towards the door. "Hey we’re not children." Esme said. "Whatever. We’re going on a team walk. Wanna come?" Millie asked.

You and Leah agreed, Leah made the smart move of grabbing her coat while you just walked out in your england sweats and nike compression shirt. "You won’t be cold?" Leah asked you, slinging her arm around your waist. "Nah. All good." You told her.

You guys went out for your walk, and ten minutes in you were shaking like a leaf. Leah was walking slightly in front of you with Keira and Georgia, they had a lot to catch up on, and you were walking behind them with Jordan. "You cold?" Jordan asked, bumping shoulders with you. "Nah." You lied. "Liar." Jordan spat back. "Just don’t tell Leah or she’ll give me shit about it." You laughed, smiling at the short girl. "That’s why I want to tell her." Jordan said. You laughed and then things went quiet. "I’m happy you’re here, Jords. You deserve this spot." You told her. She smiled at you gently, bumping shoulders with you as a sign of affection. "Leah come get your girl! She’s freezing!" Jordan said before running away. "JORDAN!" You yelled after her as she ran to hide in front of Lotte.

Leah separated from Keira and Georgia and waited for you to catch up. "So. You’re cold?" Leah said. "Barely," you answered. Leah took your hand and instantly felt the shivers going through your body. She stopped in her tracks, you guys were closing the line so there was no blocking of anyone’s path. She slipped off her coat and gave it to you. "I’m wearing a hoodie anyways. I wore the coat more for you that for me." She said. She watched you, almost mesmerized, as you slipped on the coat and looked back at her. "You’re so beautiful. I’m so in love with you. Like… so in love. And I never want to loose you." You told Leah.

She was a bit taken aback by your words, but her face softened quickly. "Where’s this coming from?" she asked, cupping your face with her hands and using her thumb to wipe away a tear you hadn’t noticed was there. "Just form looking at you. From being with you." You told her. "I feel the same. All the time. I just didn’t know if you did. You’re not loosing me, y/n. Ever."

And with those words, she kissed you gently on the lips.

The next morning you were up at 7:30. Breakfast was at 8:00 and then it was photoshoot time in the new England kits. Every player had different time slots. Sarina had made groups of 5 to get their pictures taken at the same time to reduce any chaos. You were in a group with Lucy, Keira, LJ and Chloe for the individual photos. You were sad you weren’t with Leah, her time slot was after yours. But Sarina had asked you, Leah, Lucy, Chloe, Ella, Keira, Georgia, LJ and Hempo to come in after everyone else to take a group picture. You and Leah went downstairs for breakfast and then went back to your rooms to do your hair for the photoshoot, the makeup artist would be doing the rest.

You stood in front of the mirror, looking at yourself. You loved media day, you loved taking pictures, it was just the little comments people would say that made you worry. You hated the things people would say.

"You okay?" Leah said, walking to you and putting her hand on your back. "Yeah. Just not feeling myself today." You told her, looking at her and smiling slightly before walking out of the washroom. "You look amazing. You always do." Leah said to you gently.

You nodded and ignored the look of sadness on Leah’s face at the thought that you weren’t liking yourself today.

Your time slot was right before Leah. You watched the girls in your group take pictures, you cheered them on and then made tik toks with a few of the girls. Finally, it was your turn. You put on the white kit and did a few poses. You juggled, we’re asked to scream like you just scored which was always an awkward one for you. You then repeated everything in the away kit before taking pictures in the shorts and your sports bra. It was easy to say you had muscle to show.

You were the last in your group to go, so while you were taking the last pics in your bra and shorts, Leah came in with her group. She smiled at you, watching you pose. You hadn’t realized she was there. Leah took out her phone and video taped you, laughing at your awkwardness. Eventually, you had the go to put on your shirt again and you took a few pics with both Lauren’s and Lucy.

Finally, media was over. You spotted Leah who had now put on her home kit and smiled at her, but you couldn’t go talk to her because the photographer wanted to show you all some of the pictures.

To your surprise, you really liked them. "You always make me look so good, Mike." You said to him, hugging him quickly as he sat in the chair. "Hey it’s all you." He said.

You watched Leah take her pictures, her group being the last one and then you took the group pictures. It was a long day, and training started tomorrow.

Training was at ten the next morning. Leah woke up giddy and the first thing she did in the morning was lie on top of you and kiss you everywhere. "Mhmmm good morning to you too." You said, wrapping your arms around her body. "It is a good morning. It’s a good day." Leah said. "I wish we could play together all the time… Come to Arsenal! I’ll put in a good word for you. Jonas wants you already." Leah begged.

It was true, Jonas had put in a huge offer and you and Chelsea turned it down immediately. "No way. Never. I’m a blue through and through. Sorry baby." You told her, kissing her lips sweetly.

Before it got too heated, you pushed her off of you. "Come on you’re such a tease. We haven’t had sex in a month." Leah said to you. "And I want too. So badly. Like i’m actually dying internally but our friends are sharing a wall with us. Like Lotte and Esme are right there. Right now." You said, rummaging through your bag for the new training kit. "Let them hear!" Leah said. You gave her a 'really?' look and she laughed. "Okay. Not a good idea."

"No. Not a good idea. You laughed, throwing her her training kit and starting to change." She watched you, smiling, and then put on her own kit. You put your hair in a ponytail and then went down for breakfast. You went around talking to a lot of the girls, got pranked by Millie and Rachel and then you all went outside for training.

Leahs good mood stayed the whole day, she ran onto the field and you kept on making the joke that "your skipper was skipping."

Training was great. Everyone seemed to connect and you felt as though this was a world cup winning team. You put in the work, fighting harder than anyone else, except maybe Jordan. She had a place fo secure for the world cup. During an 11 v 11 scrimmage, you teased Mary with a panenka chip as Millie had taken you down in the box. Leah was on the other team and she shoved you jokingly after you scored that, Mary flipping you off with her keeper gloves was a funny sight. You hugged her after the game was over, your team winning 2-1.

It was then time for lunch, and then another training session followed by ice baths. You had fish, mash potatoes and a salad for lunch, going on your phone briefly to text your club teammates.

The second training session was really focusing on 1 v 1 and 2 v 2’s. Two nets about 15 meters from each other. Four groups. Two groups on each side of the net. One person would go from each side of the pitch, one defending, one attacker, and then when the ball goes out of play, another player from each side came in and it was 2 v 2.

Eventually it was your turn, 1 v 1 vs Niahm. You played with Niahm all the time, you were always with her so you knew how she played, but she did too. You dribbled up to her slowly, faked left and then did a scissor right, making Niahm step to block. After that, it was an easy tap through her legs and a hard shot to the bottom right corner. Niahm fell to the ground in defeat as the girls yelled "MEGGG"

You helped your Chelsea teammate up, laughing, and then it was you and Ella vs Leah and Niahm. Ella took the ball but Niahm stole it, with a quick slide, you got it back and passed it to Lessi, splitting Leah and Niahm completely. Lessi shot it but Mary saved it. "You do that again and i’ll put acrylics on." Leah whispered to you jokingly. You laughed loudly, no one hearing what she had whispered to you.

When training ended, you all headed towards the ice baths. You had a love hate relationship with them.

The whole team poured into the room, ditching shirts and socks and entering the water. You watched G, Keira and Leah enter but you stood at the stairs. "Is it cold?" You asked them, crossing your arms over your chest. "It’s an ice bath baby." Leah said, laughing. You pouted and looked at the water. "Come on y/n. It’s not that bad anymore." Georgia said. You stepped into the bath, your feet numbing. "Jesus." You groaned, going in deeper until the water was at your mid stomach. "Cold, cold, cold, cold." You groaned.

The photographers came and took a picture of all of you and you put on a smile for him before letting it falter. You could only focus on how cold it was.

Leah wrapped her arms around your upper body and you buried your head in her shoulder.

"You guys are gonna make this third wheel?" Keira said. "Nah! Get in here!" You said, opening your arms for Keira and Georgia to join. Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.

Georgia jumped into you at full force, and you were not expecting it. She sent you toppling backwards.

You felt nothing but ice cold water as your whole body got submerged into the bath. You were down there for a couple seconds before your body worked again and you came flying back up, gasping for air and coughing. Everyone was kind of silent, Leah was obviously trying to uphold her girlfriend role but she was the first to burst out laughing. "GEORGIA!" you yelled, shaking violently and pushing your hair out of your face. "I’m sorry! All those muscles I thought you could take it!" She squealed, hiding behind Leah. "Don’t hide behind me! I’m not protecting you from her!" Leah said, moving away. "Aww how sweet! How about you come give me a hug?" You said to your girlfriend, opening your arms to her. "No no no, i’m not getting all wet." Leah said, backing away. You stopped in your tracks, pouting. "Fine then. I’ll go put on acrylics." You said, using her threat from earlier. You turned around and walked out of the bath, laughing to yourself as you heard Keira and Georgia making an "ooooh" noise. Leah knew you were kidding, but she was quick to follow you out of the bath. "Everyone’s here for another 15 or so. Our room?" She whispered to you as you tried your whole body with your towel. "I don’t know. You really left me stranded out there." You told her, putting on an act. Leah looked over at you as she dried her legs. "Can’t leave at the same time. Meet you in three?" You quickly left the area and headed to the third floor. You used your key card to get in and then turned on the shower.

You stripped from your wet clothes and threw them in the hamper, proceeding to putting your hand under the shower to make sure it was warm enough. It was. You stepped in, feeling the relief of the heat on you.

Soon after, you heard the door open.

Leah walked in and heard the sound of the shower. She smiled to herself, shower sex was her favorite, always had been. She ditched her shorts and sports bra and walked into the washroom, looking at you through the clear glass. "You just gonna stand there?" You asked her playfully. "Just let me admire you for a second" Leah said.

You did not.

You walked out of the shower, not caring about the water you were sipping everywhere. You grabbed her by her waist, pulling your naked bodies together. Gently, but sternly, you pushed her into the shower and up against the wall. You took a moment to look at her, trace your fingers on her jawline and then you kissed her, nipping at her lips and using one hand to play with her nipples while the other one cupped her core. You trailed kisses down her body, Leah’s nails holding you tightly to her as she kept a stern grip on your waist. Her legs were shaking and as you kissed down her neck, too her collarbone, and slowly down her stomach, you we’re having to hold her up against the wall. "You ready?" You asked her, looking up at her through the valley of her breast. "Yeah."

You pushed your middle finger into her, using the pad of your thumb to push into her clit. She moaned at your touch as you pumped your finger in and out of her, holding her thighs steady. After her first orgasm, you put your head between her thighs and finished her off. When she came for the second time, you went back up and kissed her gently, grazing your nails down her stomach. "You tired?" you asked her, cupping her face. "Yeah. But you, I can-" she started saying. "No. Not today. You’re tired and so am I. It’s all good."

She kissed you sweetly and you took turns washing your hair and bodies.

The rest of the night was spent with movies and team bonding. It was all good, you were back with Leah, the lionesses were stronger than ever, and it was time to bring the World Cup home.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #chelsea fcw #arsenal fcw #leah williamson #woso smut #millie bright #alessia russo #ella toone #keira walsh #georgia stanway #engwnt

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isaaaxqii · 6 months

Text

wrong number ༉‧₊˚. - geto

summary : instead of giving the desperate waiter your number, you give him your boyfriend, geto suguru’s number.

** : sfw

note : i don’t know whether to list this as fluff as this is more of a funny scenario 🐍

< 5.43pm >

“shoko!”

you called, waving your hand over to signal to her that you’re near her. she sees you, and immediately goes over to you.

the both of you were out to eat dinner together after a tiring day of training. geto and gojo initially wanted to tag along, but gojo wanted to rest, and geto said he would visit later.

“what do you want to eat?”

the both of you settled down in a restaurant, looking through the menu. just then, a waiter came to take your over. as you looked through the menu a little more, you could feel a pair of eyes staring at you.

as you suspected, it was the waiter. you looked up at him, making him turn away, face clearly red with embarrassment. you ignored it, quickly making your orders before he went away to prepare them.

“here you go, enjoy your meals.” the waiter says, placing the food on the table. the both of you expected him to return to his work, but he stayed at the table for awhile longer before speaking.

“excuse me miss, do you mind if i get your number?”

you shook your head, refusing as you already had geto. but what he said next shocked you.

“such a pretty lady, i’m sure we could keep this a secret between us, and that other lady there.”

your eyes widened. how could he say such a thing? something you always hated was people not respecting your relationship. shoko giggled a little, not interfering to see what you would do. just then, you thought of an idea.

“sure, pass me a piece of paper and a pen.”

shoko’s eyes widened at you. in front of her? you dared to cheat?

before you allowed her to speak, you showed her what you wrote on the paper. the waiter didn’t suspect anything wrong from that action, just eagerly waiting to receive your number.

you handed the piece of paper back to the waiter, before making a signal for him to text you as he makes his way to the staff room of the restaurant.

“quite a good payback.”

“i’m just feeling a little playful today.”

just then, geto walked into the restaurant. he quickly found your seats, coming over to you before giving you a hug.

“hi honey, eating well?”

“mhm. expect a surprising text soon from someone though, they’ve been asking for your number desperately.” you joked, before giving him a bite of your food which he gratefully accepted.

“what text?”

ding.

geto’s phone rang, and he immediately opened his notification center. he read the text before opening the chat.

“hey, mind meeting me outside the restaurant? your boyfriend doesn’t have to know;)”

geto showed you the text, making you giggle a little.

“is this the text?”

“the waiter’s quite rude, don’t you think? asking for my number and all after i told him i was taken. that’s why i gave him your number. ” you answered, geto’s lips slowly turning into a smirk.

“smart choice, love.” he replied, before making a reply to the waiter on his phone.

“sorry, my girl gave you my number. better luck next time.”

you noticed the waiter walking out of the staff room, eyes fuming with anger. geto noticed you look at him, and being able to quickly figure that the waiter asking for your number was him. he put your hands around your waist, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, as to show that your mystery boyfriend was him. the waiter then went back into the staff room, looking somewhat fustrated.

“not infront of me, please.” shoko intervenes.

geto kissed your forehead, patting your head and ruffled your hair.

“that’s so mean, shoko.”

i scheduled the posting time for this post so this work won’t be shown immediately on my masterlist as i may not be online 🤍

#jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk x you #getou suguru x reader

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kdyism · 1 year

Text

STUPID CUPID.

pairing. haechan x reader

genre + themes. friends-to-lovers, fluff, smidge of angst, christmas-themed, college!au.

wc. 5,342 / warning. christmas, mention of kissing, being drunk, dumb decisions, mistletoes.

synopsis. after being victim to jaemin’s cupid-ing last christmas, lee donghyuck has to figure out whether he wants to give up on you or go for it while risking the comfort of your friendship because he think you don’t remember last christmas.

secret santa hosted by @neowritingsnet for @kthpurplesyou | hi bee! it’s me santa watermelon aka yunan <3 hoping i was mysterious enough and you are shocked, i hope this fic is to your liking! i switched writing between morning and night so it took longer, i wanted to drop it on dec 20 so that you’d have time before celebrations in case you do. crossing my fingers and sending this out to you, bee, i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it 💞💖💓

yunn says hohoho likes, comments + reblogs are appreciated, i hope everyone else enjoys this quick fic!

Lee Donghyuck is known for his infectious personality. He can leave a mark of his existence within a few seconds, he knows way too many people and most people would just think he is someone with too much free time on his hands.

“Did you get a name from the box?” unfolding his paper while maintaining a neutral expression, he sits in his usual seat and you bite down on your lips, eyes sparkling as soon as your eyes fall on the unfolded paper in your hand. “Let me guess?” narrowing his eyes, he hums. “...Taeyong,”

Gasping quietly, you nod chaotically and show him the name. “How’d you know?” you ask, a smile crawling onto your cheeks and you twist in his direction, your eyes looking directly behind him.

“When you see someone’s face as much as I've seen yours…” Donghyuck pursues his lips, “I would be an idiot not to know,”

Rolling your eyes at him, you dismiss his comment and continue with your preying. “How’s your schedule for this month?” you inquire, slipping your phone out of your pocket and suddenly, you look determined and shift your eyes back to him. “God, are you that happy?” he churns his face, watching your shake excitedly and your lips barely holding down a grin.

You gush in response, “Of course! You know I want his number,” skipping away from him, all he could do was sigh.

Waving you off, Donghyuck tries to hide his disappointment; unsure whether it was directed towards his paper or because of yours. Lee Taeyong, your most recent crush-ish, is a post-grad whose taking the same course as you for the same reason, extra credit. Donghyuck is already familiar with your boy of the week kind of crush-ishes—it’s not quite a crush, more like surface-level infatuation but if he didn’t know you any better, that’s what he would’ve thought.

However, it has never bothered him. Not until a stupid thing happened last Christmas.

Last Christmas changed everything, no warning or heads-up was given. He still remembers the night, unlike most nights at parties. He was sobered up, mind buzzing with all kinds of things until he was finally asleep on your sofa at almost 4 AM. He blames Na Jaemin for what happened, from his needless matchmaking to his punch-worthy grin, everyone knows that Na Jaemin’s favourite hobby is playing Cupid, going to all sorts of lengths to get his couple of the month to date. Hell, Donghyuck has actively participated in the talking up of girls, spreading rumours and finally, getting the ‘Characters’ to go on their first date.

It was funny and oddly satisfying when they do end up dating, Donghyuck for one wasn’t one to interrupt the fun. Not when he was directly getting the kick out of it. Except, he realized, it’s not very fun when the character line-up had his name written in the main leads.

hyuck💞: im booked all month

hyuck💞: why???? did you have something in mind???

“I hate him.” you declare breaking the silence that he embraced, “He said, ‘Uhhh I don’t know you…’ and left! Ugh, I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think what? That he would be a normal person and be cautious when a sophomore is asking for his number?” he cuts you off snarkily and you drop your jaws, putting your hands on his shoulder and asking, “And why would he be cautious?”

Cupping your cheeks with a smile, Donghyuck says, “One, you are not me.” raising his brows, you wanted to flick him but you let him continue. “Two, don’t you remember someone leaking Sehun—whose also from post-grad— his number was just spreading like disease between group chats, of course, they’d be more careful,”

Letting out an “Oh”, you pout, slumping weakly as you understand his reason. “Are they friends?” you wonder, Oh Sehun was also hot if your memory serves you well but he rejected you without hesitation and then you killed his memory along with your fascination with him.

“Yeah—we don’t really have that many post-grads,” releasing your cheeks, your face falls before you pull yourself up and you click your tongue at him and he shakes his head.

Donghyuck’s reasoning always changes your mind, he was the reason you were even in the social club, to begin with. He was friends with everyone, always making plans with everyone and you’d barely ever see him if not for your meticulous planning to match your schedule with him since you were naturally more free than he was with both his part-time and his “Hey, whose name did you get?” you ask, remembering that he was friends with Lee Taeyong as well.

“Why would I tell you?” he glares at you, backing away and immediately guesses, “I am not going shopping with you,”

Slapping your hand over your mouth, “How’d you know?” you splurt, your hands dancing in the air trying to show him your surprise. “Yeah, you’re obvious,”

Donghyuck could easily predict what was going on in your mind, not always but usually he could. From his second month of being your friend, he already knew that you thrived on being nosy. The way you made friends with people by letting them complain about their problems to having new crushes on every new person who you saw for the first time—there might be just one reason why Donghyuck would like some distance between the two of you.

“You know mine, why can’t I know yours?” you ask not looking away from him while he packs the study material he already knew you were going to ask that, so he scoffs wearing a smirk. “It’s supposed to be secret santa, not un-secret santa. Now,” he pauses, waiting for you to stand up again and he begins walking out of the hall as you follow closely beside him, mumbling, “That’s unfair…”

“To the cafeteria?” you ask and he nods.

“Yeah. so, I wanted to say but you keep shutting me up—Anyways, I am not going to see you until the Christmas party at Mark’s,” Donghyuck stops as soon as the elevator sounds, “I am blocking you and going on a detox,” stepping into the elevator, he leaves you behind stunned.

Just as the doors slide back, he smiles while saying, “I don’t wanna see your face anywhere near me, okay?”

To hyuck💞: you cant do this you hurt me 🤕🤕

To hyuck💞: im sorry what did i doooo??

To hyuck💞: unblock me plsssss 🙏🙏🙏

To hyuck💞: what will i do without you??? i need you bro

Message failed to send

There aren’t many nights where he quietly stays in his room, ignoring your text and pressing block on you. There have been times like tonight when the heart beating in his chest feels more painful than usual. He has never been the type to cry through the night. The ceiling of his bedroom is comforting, the mould collecting in the corners every winter, reminding him of his chores, and normally, he'd be on his phone scrolling mindlessly through social media and thinking about how he was going to be a better person tomorrow than today. Usually, they happen a lot later than 10 PM and only after he has spent his day with you already.

For one, he’s glad that no one could tell of his awful crush on you.

Christmas has always been easy, it's been pleasant, and unlike most seasons; the holiday season always gets him in the mood for a big gathering, cosying up with his friends and just enjoying their presence without having to mess around and it also makes him less of a troublemaker. He doesn’t follow Yangyang to the skating rink nor does he annoy Renjun in the library and he also leaves Mark to do his good thing of the day without bothering him about that club that opened a block away from college. He was even fine with you telling him that you’d be going out.

With someone who wasn’t him.

He was fine.

Until Last Christmas happened.

“I’m coming in!” Jaemin’s voice brings him back to his room and he sits up, sighing heavily. “Are you staying home tonight?” he asks as soon as the boy enters the room wearing his strawberry-patterned apron that a junior of his gifted him.

“Jeno has a project so he’s staying with his group at the library—I have been left behind,”

Rooming with Jaemin was a last-minute decision, when his dorm lease was up he was going to resign it, however, after your fingers held his hands this spring, shaking with excitement and your lips stretched in a smile, reminding him that you only lived ten minutes away from Jaemin. Before he knew it, he was signing a new contract with Jaemin who couldn't hide his mischievous eyes for him.

"Did you block Y/N?" Jaemin sits on the swivel chair in front of his computer, casually pulling the cord of his wired mouse. "I sent her back home saying you weren't here just now,"

"She came here?" Donghyuck bursts, eyes wide and Jaemin laughs, "Of course not."

Groaning, Donghyuck throws his head back in defeat. "This is all your fault. If I didn't kiss her at that party we wouldn't be going through this," he grumbles, closing his eyes and flashes of last Christmas pass by.

It was picturesque, so perfect and the heat of his lips on yours—he would've never guessed that you'd taste like wine.

You hate wine.

Jaemin rolls his eyes, dismissing the accusation. "It's not my fault you have a superiority complex about knowing where all the mistletoes are,"

Offended by that, Donghyuck gets off his bed and stares down at the boy who continues to grab his copy of the Forza Horizon 4 and strut back to the door. "You hang it up there knowing full well that me and Y/N always take that spot," Donghyuck said and he receives a loud hah from his friend who pulls the door open.

Jaemin looks him straight in the eye, his characteristic sweet smile on his face and he said, "Maybe you should've just been a big boy and kissed me instead,"

And well, he wasn't wrong, so Donghyuck resorts to slamming his face into his pillow and raging at it, screaming while swinging his legs recklessly until his shin stabs against his bed frame and gives him genuine reason to scream out. God, if you were here, you'd have a look of worry painted all over your face while you still laughed at his pain and to be honest, Donghyuck thought you would look nice against the background of his room.

Turning to lie on his stomach, Donghyuck wiggles in his bed to get comfortably under his sheets, and he unlocks his phone, your image glowing on the screen. He has an album full of just you. You love sending him pictures of yourself, outfit of the day, and once in a while, when you look really nice, you'll send him a decent picture that he would lose his mind about but all he responds with is an emoji, the one with two eyes looking sideways.

Gulping down frustratedly, he clicks off his gallery, and suddenly, his screen cuts with notifications.

leemark: u helping on 23?

leemark: please?? jisung broke his arm u know he can't help me now

leemark sent a sticker

you: you owe me one

Working graveyard hours, twelve-to-four, has its unexpected silver lining. Most people are asleep during this time and anyone awake usually just want to get home, aside from the hooligans who mind their own business if you mind your own because of the cameras placed inside the convenience store and the patrol team in the area from two-till-six because of recent crime level increase in the area. To Donghyuck, it was perfect for a decent-paying, low-effort job.

The one downside of this is, you live super close to Jaemin and share the same convenience store as them. Of course, he'd see you if you decided to visit the store at this time.

Donghyuck didn't think of you as someone hot before, casual dating was not his mind when it came to you and you were always busy being interested in whoever is new. Maybe you liked the unfamiliarity of them, the fact you didn't see them for consecutive weeks before they suddenly appeared in front of you, unlike the two of them, Donghyuck has been in your life consistently for the past two years and this year, something changed.

The pulsing of his heart, when the store's automated doors slide open and your familiar pyjama hoodie comes into his view, the way his lungs forget to breathe and he can't tear his eyes off of you until you make your way up to the counter with your BBQ pringles and cola on the side. "When are you gonna unblock me?" even your voice is so sweet now, his brain shooting fuzzy chemicals inside him and butterflies making his knees go weak.

Donghyuck doesn't want to like you.

"You know the schedule, wait until the party," scanning the codes of your items and billing you up, he takes your exact change, sliding your snacks to you.

"Can't you give me a reason? What did I do?" you ask, stuffing your snacks into your hoodie’s pocket and Donghyuck groans, you didn't plan on leaving, he could tell. "You saw my text and didn't reply, you could've just replied then—"

"That's just stupid, I blocked you as soon as I remembered I said I would," he argued back, clicking his tongue at your exasperated expression.

Giving up on that point, "Nevermind that then, just give me a reason then," you said, Donghyuck grumbling internally and you stare at him, waiting for a reply.

"Didn't I tell you I wanted a detox?"

Waving him off, you glare at him and ask again, "Am I toxic? To make you need a detox from me?" your eyes tingle, the heat making its way up to your neck and you mentally curse, you've never been able to argue without feeling the urge to cry.

"That's not what I mean by detox. I just need some time from you, my life is a mess right now you are at the centre of it," Donghyuck explains, his hands automatically holding your face and rubbing away the tears that brim in your eyes. "I don't mean to make you cry—with all the time away from me, you can go and try to snag Taeyong! Come on, you have a life without me in it too," he adds, his voice softer and fingers gently crease your cheeks, earning a pout from you.

You spit, "What's that supposed to mean?" you take his hands away from your face and wrap your fingers in his, "Taeyong isn't you, no one is you. You are not replaceable for me,"

Tears bubbling up again, Donghyuck shushes you and he doesn't want to feel this way; his chest clogs up and renders him breathless in front of you, and he feels guilty. "Hey, hey, come on don't cry," he frets, his fingers wiping away the tears and settling on your shoulders. If only the counter wasn't in between you, he knows for sure he'd have hugged you and given up already.

"You know, your touch always makes me not cry," you laugh, remembering the time when you almost broke down in class after getting an F and being required to repeat a course the next semester. He held your hand the entire two hours of the lecture and even stayed with you until you were back home. You didn't even know him too well back then.

It made your heart kinda race for him but the comfort of your growing friendship with him felt too precious.

"That's because you are like a baby, holding you will make you calm down," he exposes you, rolling his eyes as if it were an obvious truth and you scoff, "Just how many people do you think hold my face like I'm a chipmunk?" killing the mood, Donghyuck sighs, "Well, at least you are okay now,"

"Unblock me now," you said, regaining your reason once you've calmed down and he shakes his head without hesitation, suddenly regaining his previous determination. "Yeah, no."

A Y/N-detox isn't feasible if he thought about it, not when you've carefully matched your schedule to his because he is always working or has appointments with other friends, you work at the cafe down the fast food cabin he works at, take the same bus home as him and worst of all, you both share the same friend groups because of how much time you spend together as a collective.

"Do you guys like, hate me or something?" Donghyuck deadpans, slumping into the seat you were previously sitting at.

"You hate yourself," Renjun quips, his eyes not leaving his book and Yangyang nods in agreement while adding, "You didn't think it would be a good idea to tell us you didn't like her anymore? We would've not invited her,"

"We could've also made a group without you in it," Mark said, resting his head on the wall and dozing away. He had finished a shift and was supposed to work one more shift today because his junior broke his arm but thank the heavens, Donghyuck said okay and is covering the shift. Too guilty to go home, Mark has resorted to staying around until the end of the shift anyway.

Mark, unlike Jaemin, was Donghyuck’s only refuge. The one person who knew about his crush and the one person who told him, hey, she might like you. "Dude, just go home," he says, shaking Mark's shoulder and Renjun sighs.

Renjun says, "I tried already, he is just being stubborn," closing his book once he bookmarks it and crossing his arms on the table. "Now, you need to tell us what happened,"

Renjun has always been perceptive of his mood, always keeping up with the latest drama and the main provider of information to Jaemin's cupid hustle. Romance was just his forte. Donghyuck, though, was too scared to ask him his opinion on it in case he told him to just give up—as if he wasn't already trying in his own way.

"Promise me you won't laugh," Donghyuck gulps and Yangyang grunts loudly, "Dude, miss me with the suspense—We swear, now what happened?"

Inhaling, he blinks away into the distance. "I might be in love with Y/N and I am so ashamed to come out with it. I know it's stupid but you guys know how we are, it's always us together, Donghyuck and Y/N, we're friends.

Shit, I even blocked her to get over her but it's not working—I dreamt of her last night and it was so embarrassing to see her today,"

"Dreamt of her… like… like that?" Yangyang asks, his fists covering his dropped jaw and Donghyuck's face burns up at the suggestion but he doesn't deny it, much to Renjun's disgust, he gags and says, "Please don't give us the details,"

"She's been going insane on her own and constantly going on about you—this must be why." Mark nods as if a bigger picture was drawn in his head, he grins and goes on, "Jaemin wasn't joking when he said you liked her last Christmas. I didn't think the mistletoe trick would work,"

Gasping at him, "You knew!" Donghyuck points at him in accusation and grabs his collar, "That kiss messed up our relationship!"

Yangyang breaks them up, grinning at Donghyuck sleazily, and he says, "Dude, tomorrow's party, just fix it. There's nothing to lose—I can't believe you've dragged this on for a year, how adorable."

Two weeks without Donghyuck and you are but a shell of yourself.

It was so easy getting used to life with him, he came in and went out so nonchalantly. You hadn't realized how involved he was in your life until he was gone from your daily transit, he was gone from your walks home, he was gone from his shift at the convenience store and not a single text you sent him went through. No, your life didn't revolve around him but you include him in everything because, Donghyuck will think this is funny, you need to tell him about the stupid fight that happened in the café and Donghyuck will look good with this, you need to take him shopping with you.

Shit, you sent him a picture of random things that made you think of him.

There was only once that you thought you liked him, and you shot that down as soon as he said he liked a girl in his social club—you even joined the club for him, how could he like someone else… you gave up as soon as your heart latched on and to be honest, you were okay with that because well, he was still the closest person to you.

You didn't need the kisses to feel loved. His gentle hands creasing your cheeks habitually and his warm hugs because he feels like it, they made you feel loved. The way he makes time to see you in his busy schedule, you know he leaves hours in his day because you'll ask him for time, which makes you feel loved as well.

It didn't make sense for him to suddenly shut you out, not when he was leaving all these signs, he didn't do any of these with anyone else—last Christmas meant something to him.

You just knew it did.

"Have you guys seen Donghyuck?" you ask, holding your red cup of punch barely full and your head feeling dizzy.

Pointing towards a corner, "I THINK HE WAS WITH MARK," Yangyang screams at the top of his lungs, the earmuffs doing their work to shut out even his loudness.

Lee Mark throws the most exciting Christmas parties every year in his apartment building in collaboration with his neighbours. The shared pool and backyard were completely theirs to use, Mark would normally hang up mistletoes in the spaces between his apartment and everywhere else. The kissing begins as soon as you want to leave his front door anywhere else. And you never leave his apartment, so you never had to deal with the plant.

That wasn't the case last year, someone had hung up mistletoes inside the apartment and exactly at the spot you and Donghyuck always beeline to, that's where everything changed for him and out of nowhere, you had to be the one acting normal because he wasn't.

Stumbling your way into the living room, it wasn't too crowded in here and it usually only had Mark's closest friends loitering around. Your eyes immediately find Donghyuck, laughing loudly and he leaves his beanbag, and almost instinctively, you plop down on it as soon as you near it.

Fading out of consciousness, "Who said you could sit there?" he whined, his eyes half-lid as he grabbed your hand and you shot up, your head feeling clearer now.

You always steal his seat when he leaves to get a refill. "I was just keeping it warm. You don't have to yell," you said, jutting your lips out. Your cheeks painted in a flushing colour, Donghyuck guessed that you already had your share of drinks and made a mental note to leave the party soon because he was your ride home. Not that he'll be driving but even walking you home is considered a ride.

Well, maybe not this time because you guys didn't come together.

Letting go of your arm, you fall back onto the beanbag, and he gives you puppy eyes. "I wasn't yelling," Donghyuck grumbles, getting shoved to the side by someone and he turns to face them.

"Are you okay?" Jaemin asks, his lips almost meeting his eyes in a wide grin, and Donghyuck immediately has his guard up, feeling a wave of deja vu.

"You look tipsy, aren't you gonna go home?" Pressing his hand on your forehead, Jaemin looks towards the ceiling above you and smirks. "Oh, look here, guys," he gasps loudly. However, Donghyuck could hear the pretentiousness of it.

Donghyuck followed his gaze with narrowed eyes, right above him, wretched mistletoes greeted him in the dimly lit corner of the room immediately releasing a groan. "Ugh, not again!" Donghyuck cries.

Scoffing at Jaemin, he rolls his eyes. "What? You wanna kiss me this time?" he asks in a mean tone, and Jaemin giggled, moving away from the spot while saying, "Of course, not," Donghyuck felt his blood boil, if Jaemin was a cupid, then maybe that song about a stupid cupid was right.

Clearly, his arrows were faulty this time.

Last time, it didn't cross his mind that someone else would be hanging up mistletoes, Mark never hung them up in the corners of the rooms and especially not inside Mark's apartment because he was scared someone would make out on his sacred sofa or worse, inside his toilet. But he learnt his lesson, Na Jaemin goes to extreme lengths to pair up his couples after all.

You then ask, "Then—Are we going to kiss?" your eyes look curiously at him as you pointed at the plant. "It's you and me under it now,"

And from that point, it's never been the same. The last time, he kissed your lips, it was stupid. You were drunk and said okay for the fun of it, Donghyuck could only hope neither of you remember it.

But when his lips lightly brushed on yours, and he realized that tomorrow morning you'll be back to normal, your memory in fragments and he remembers it clearly, the regret that washed over him the next morning when he opened his eyes to the ceiling of his bedroom, the horror that clung to him when his phone was bombarded by his friends curious about how he felt now that he had kissed you.

He was in denial for a whole year.

Once more, "Are we going to kiss again," you ask, your fingers pulling his shirt, you bring him back to the present and guide him down towards you.

Donghyuck's knees go weak, and he falls onto the floor with his breath caught. This time, you are the one taking the lead. "You remember," he breathes out, looking away from you and you give him a tight-lipped look. "Yeah, I never forgot it," you said.

"Why'd you never say anything, I am so sorry about the kiss—" Donghyuck immediately says and you cut him off, —"I didn't say anything because I didn't mind, I actually liked it and I thought you did too because you kissed me twice…"

Perhaps it was the lighting in the room. Donghyuck never thought you looked hot but he did always think you were beautiful, but today, the lipstick you wore made him want to go crazy. "Don't you like Taeyong now?" he just had to ask to be sure and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you said, "You know my fascination with all my crush-ishes dies after I talk to them,"

"But you were so excited for the secret santa," "That's because it's gift giving and that's fun,"

Donghyuck didn't get your name, so he thought you weren't meant to be. No matter how stupid he thinks that idea is now, he still thought it was fate that you got Taeyong's name when you liked him. "I thought you were going to cut me off this Christmas to spend it with him, that's why I came up with the detox… to give you time away from me and me time away from you,"

Biting down a smile, you place a peck on his lips. "Have I ever gone on a date with anyone since you've known me?" you tease, and he immediately says, "Yeah, Yangyang. The two of you go on skate rink dates all the time, I see you guys,"

"That's just you being picky—you don't know how to skate so, of course, I go there with him and not you," flicking his forehead, you click your tongue and went on, "Plus, you always come along anyway,"

"Because I come along, it's not a date anymore,"

"Wow, genius," you giggle, rolling your eyes and Donghyuck sighs into your side, he thinks, his arms are allowed to go around your waist now and he's allowed to keep staring into your eyes.

Your eyes don't leave him either, the thumping bass of the background blending in with the sound of your heart skipping beats and your toes curl, butterflies choking your breath when you say, "Hey, there's a mistletoe here—can't you just kiss me already?"

Dipping his head down, his lips catching yours and this time, you taste like berry punch, your favourite and his hands cradle your face, he still isn't sure if this is the right way to go with you but when your lips synchronise with his, moving softly against his with your hands desperately clinging onto his shoulders.

It took him a mistletoe and a whole year to realize his feeling about you, so maybe, cupid wasn't the only stupid one, he was stupid too. You've been right in front of each other and yet, "Does this mean you like like me?" you ask against his lips.

Smiling, "Just how many people do you think I block?" Donghyuck lets his head rest on your shoulder, the rest of his body going limp as well on the floor, and you pat his back. "Are we together now? Next Christmas, will I be your boyfriend?" he asks weakly, and you nod. Although he couldn't see you, he could tell there was a smile on your face.

"Oh, by the way, do you know who put this in here? Mark doesn't put mistletoes inside his apartment right?" curiously, you point at the plant on top of you and he grumbles, "Na Jaemin," tightening his grip on you. Donghyuck thinks he should give his thanks to Jaemin too because, without him, none of this would've happened.

"Aah, now it makes sense why he came here last year—doesn't he always stay at the pool area with Jeno and that Junior of theirs?"

Nodding, Donghyuck says, "Yeah. He even came up this time too," mentally deciding to spare him this time.

And you giggle, cheerfully saying, "We should thank him, he is kinda like our cupid if you think about it. It goes well with his reputation on campus," the sound of your humming makes him smile, agreeing with you, "Huh, you think so?"

BONUS:

Beknownst to both of you, starting next semester Na Jaemin’s position as campus cupid was solidified using a picture he took once the two of you knocked out in the corner of Mark’s living; Donghyuck’s head nestling on your stomach and your head tilted upwards in a way that looked like it hurt—His greatest masterpiece he said, showing the photo and relying on the great love story until “How come none of you tell me about this?” Donghyuck accuses his friends, shifting his weight to one side and scoffing indignantly.

Yangyang shrugs, “It’s funny. And you guys look cute anyways, what are you mad about?” he asks, his face genuinely looking confused, which makes Donghyuck click his tongue, and Mark asks, “Are you mad we didn’t share the photo with you?” his eyes narrowed, hoping his guess was right.

“How’d you know!” you clap, nodding your head. “Hyuck changed his wallpaper as soon as he got the picture,”

“How did it take this long to find out, though?” Renjun asks, “You’re friends with everyone on campus. It's unbelievable it took you this long,”

#neosecretsanta #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct haechan x reader

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cbk1000 · 7 months

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I'm bored and feeling slightly under the weather, so I decided to post some of the almost 15,000 words I have of a luxury train holiday fic that I started after learning that luxury train holidays were a thing. Why did I write a fic about such a random thing? Because I fell down a rabbit hole of luxury travel videos, discovered luxury trains, and naturally turned those videos into a Merthur fic.

Waverly Station, not to put too fine a point on it, was the most wretched hive of scum and villainy ever to be stolen by the British Empire; though possibly this was because Edinburgh had rained on Arthur, rather prodigiously, whilst he was legging it for the station; possibly because he had been woken, at the hour of No, to catch a train into Scotland; and possibly because he was carrying everything which Morgana owned, over every limb he owned; and consequently hated everyone. The sad fate of the baggage mule was his own: to be flogged, viciously, by a master too precious to carry their own bloody rubbish, through the most wretched of conditions (mizzle), with as little thanks as can be given by a creature throated to give it: and with that especial garnish, which was that he was being hit by Morgana’s voice, rather than a nice little crop, which would have only broken his flesh, and not his spirit.

He was trying to decide in which order to kill them both when he spotted, at the other end of the station, the sculpted dark head, modelled in the image of a wave; though the wave would have blushed to hear it. And beside it, a head similarly coloured, if not similarly coiffed; though he had got it into some order, and not an entirely hideous one. Gwaine nodded; and then Merlin turned round, and showed Arthur the smile he hadn’t seen in two weeks. And he felt it call up from the depths of him an answering smile, though he still hated, in the following order, Morgana; the weather; everyone.

“Should have asked me and Gwaine to carry your stuff. Arthur’s clearly crumbling under the weight of being overestimated,” Merlin said, exchanging cheek kisses with Morgana.

“I just love how funny you are,” Arthur replied, chucking off the various pieces of baggage, and letting them land where they landed.

“Don’t throw my stuff, you absolute knob.”

“Then carry it yourself!” Arthur snapped. “Did you remember your suit?” he asked Merlin, who in a blazer and shirt which appeared, miraculously, not to have got his breakfast, blood, or tea on it, was so uncharacteristically smart that probably he considered himself to be entirely done improving on himself. “You’ll have to wear a proper suit for the formal dinners.” He paused, squinting at him. “Do you have product in your hair?”

Merlin wiggled his eyebrows. “Gwaine helped me with it. Don’t worry; I won’t embarrass you on your posh train.”

“You embarrass me on the Tube.”

“I think that’s just because you feel a heightened sense of shame at having to ride public transportation with the plebian class.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Where are Gwen and Lancelot?”

“Gwen’s in the loo; Lancelot’s gone to look for something to eat. He’s worried the train’s going to serve tiny rich people portions.” Merlin pocketed his hands in his trousers. “Want a coffee?”

“Sure; I could use one, having got up at the arse crack of time this morning,” Arthur said, glaring at Morgana, who as usual was perfectly untroubled by her conduct. He gave Merlin a little slap on the shoulder, and then draped his arm round it, steering him toward Caffé Nero before he could do something unforgivable, like choose Costa. He had enhanced the blazer and hair product with a little aftershave, so that as they were walking, Arthur caught a whiff of something not entirely abhorrent; though his manners, doubtless, would make up for it. If they got him on the train, in the blazer, and no one was very much harmed in the process, that was the most which feeble humanity could expect of God’s capricious mercy. “How’s work?”

“Like arse,” Merlin said, paying for their coffees, and handing Arthur his. “I think they would have asked me to push off my holiday, except they know I’m a biter. And not just the sexy kind.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Just something to consider, a luxury train holiday with a spa and 24 hour steward service might be the place to consider not being a totally classless knob who talks about his sexual preferences in public.”

“The train has a spa?!”

Arthur ignored that. “You didn’t answer about the suit.”

“Yes, I packed the suit we FaceTimed about.”

“Nice to know you can occasionally conjure up enough sense to listen to me,” Arthur said, sipping from his coffee, and looking across the platforms to where Gwen had now joined Morgana and Gwaine, and the women were talking with their heads close together, and laughing, whilst Gwaine arranged himself for the admiring masses.

“Sometimes I wish he weren’t so straight,” Merlin said, cocking his head a little to one side, and drinking from his coffee. “Just a little bit gay; that’s all I’m asking for.”

“Gwaine?” Arthur sputtered, choking on his coffee. “Why on earth?”

“Because he’s the fittest man I know.”

“Of everyone you know, Gwaine is the fittest.”

“No, I didn’t say everyone, I said of the men I know. I would never say fittest of everyone I know, when Morgana’s right there.”

Arthur stepped on his foot, and got the maddening dimples which told him that Merlin was being trying for the sheer and unadulterated pleasure of it; though he made up for it, marginally, by stepping out from underneath Arthur’s arm, so that he could have a proper look at him, the measuring appraisal of a (not terribly) discerning bisexual, who was not so simple, at least, as to not notice that Arthur was practically the pinnacle of attractiveness, in regular shirt and trousers; and in a proper jacket was planting his flag at the peak of it. “You look ok, though,” Merlin said, tweaking one of his lapels a little.

Arthur cuffed him across the back of the head. “Ok.”

“Yeah. For a total arsehole.”

Lancelot had returned, and Arthur and Merlin were cordially punching one another, when the Royal Scotsman arrived, and Gwen gave a little squeal, and leapt up holding two very reasonable bags, whilst Morgana and entourage looked at Arthur expectantly.

“I am not hauling all that on the bloody train. You could have asked yourself at any point, ‘Do I need my entire closet for a week-long holiday?’ and come to a sane conclusion, but you didn’t,” Arthur said; and so having stated his piece, hauled his own rucksack over his shoulder, forsaking hers.

They were piped aboard the train, a rather troublesome portent, Arthur felt; all week people would be making noise which they felt to be music, whilst he was trying to work or read or bathe; whilst it was his right to exist with the Highlands of Scotland, doing their piece to be stunning, whilst he did his. He had his luggage taken, and was shown through into the Observation Car, which was kitted out like a lounge with armchairs and sofas, and a small balcony for watching the stars. Merlin, true to his complete lack of noticeable decorum, said, “Holy shit.” There was a decent carpet underfoot, the colour of wine; and the wood panelling was the same as he had seen in hotels of distinction. There was the bar at the end of the car, which he would need, once Morgana boarded with the Luggage, having got Gwaine to do the hauling for her, and still feeling that Arthur owed her his time and lumbar spine.

“Why did you book us a double, you weirdo?” Merlin asked when they were taken to their cabin, having shouldered ahead of Arthur, to get a look at it first, before Arthur could spoil his first impressions, by being, as Merlin put it, ‘a poncey indifferent bastard.’

“I didn’t. It’s a twin.”

“Looks like a double bed to me.”

“What?” Arthur cried, and pushed him out of the doorway.

Merlin, contrary to all that was sane, or expected, was right: there was the one lone bed, lovely but singular. They had made it up with a little tartan duvet in the spirit of their culture, as if that would make up for the insult. “We’re supposed to have a twin room.”

“I’m sorry, sir, this is the room.” This from the liveried employee who had shown them to the cabin, and was now realising he had done something, inadvertently, to anger the kind of patron who could drop twenty-six thousand pounds on an eight-day holiday. Merlin pinched him. “It’s fine,” he reassured the man, dimpling at him.

“It’s not fine!” Arthur cried.

“Yes, it is. If you don’t have any other rooms, and I’m assuming you don’t, otherwise you would have said so immediately, as soon as he started turning all red in the face, we can manage. He’s not the worst thing I’ve woken up to,” Merlin said, and dimpled again, this time in a way that made Arthur coincidentally sweat.

“You didn’t have to be a knob to him,” Merlin said when the man had left, tossing his blazer over the armchair.

“I wasn’t a knob to him, he mucked up my booking!”

“He didn’t muck up your booking, and put your tits back on. I think we can survive sharing a double bed for a week. I don’t know what you’re complaining about, anyway. You’re the one who snores.”

“I do not snore,” Arthur said, outraged. “You’ll have to sleep in the armchair.”

“I’m not sleeping in the armchair.”

“Well--on the floor, then. I’m sure there’s extra bedding to be got.”

“I’m not sleeping in the armchair, or on the floor; if you’ve got a problem sharing, you’re free to kip on either one,” Merlin said, as if it were settled; and now began, with every appearance of serenity, to begin unloading his bag, into the loo, and all over the writing table and bed, as if he were entitled to the calm dispersal of his belongings, whilst Arthur was stood in the centre of the cabin, clutching at his bag, and staring. The bed was an ordinary double; no giant of its kind, but a mere representative, with no girth but the girth to accommodate them, just. Doubles were for couples who didn’t mind mingling their breath and their limbs and their--other limbs. And now he would have to share, with Merlin’s aftershave and thighs, the romantic space in the spirit of platonicness. Already Merlin had sprawled out on it, demonstrating how it was to be, for seven nights, for Arthur’s personal bubble. Already he had taken off his shoes and blazer, and put his fitted trousers all over Arthur’s bed, as if it were decent, or sensible, or respectable, to take off any clothes whatsoever, in that close, warm space in which they would have to violate the edicts of platonic accord.

“So all week, I’m to have your elbow in my ribs, and just deal with it?” Arthur demanded, still clutching at the bag on his shoulder.

“Yeah, and probably my morning wood too, but I wouldn’t worry about it; if our friendship can get past your personality, it can get past anything.”

Gwen poked her head in the door. “Hello! They’re serving afternoon tea soon.” She stopped, and looked at Merlin on the bed, and looked at Arthur, not on the bed, because he was in possession of common decency. “Why have you got a double?”

“I dunno. Apparently Arthur and I are on our honeymoon,” Merlin said, scrolling through his mobile with his thumb without looking up.

“I booked a twin,” Arthur repeated, loudly but uselessly, in the face of Merlin’s indifference, and Gwen’s eyebrow. She was giving him a Look, very capitalised. It was Arthur’s unfortunate but not unexpected cross to bear; he was one of those unlucky blokes who had got some miscreants, instead of those decent, ordinary folk of common friendship; though he had expected better from Gwen.

“Anyway,” she said, still giving him the odd Look, “are you coming down for tea? We’re in the first dining car.”

“In a minute,” Arthur said, unloading his bag, by the satisfactory method of smacking Merlin in the face with it.

“Ow!”

“Arthur,” Gwen scolded gently, and was gone, leaving him in that strange shrunken space, where before had existed a normal-sized room; even a rather kingly one, for a train. He felt there was a sort of odd pressure round him. He felt already that he had the awareness of Merlin, before he had Merlin--his close, stifling body, in the bed, that was--the close, stifling presence, offensive if not downright repulsive; anyway, he was quite plagued, quite unsurprisingly, as he had been, all their long and troublesome friendship.

“Get up; we’re going for tea,” he said, poking Merlin in the side, and getting a yelp out of him.

They watched Edinburgh and the Castle vanishing beyond the windows from the dining car, whilst Lancelot ate an alarming number of canapes, and Gwen warned him, in the roundabout way of innuendo, by someone who actually knew how to make it, that he oughtn't to be too full, for the sake of--of dinner.

“And dessert,” Merlin said, in a dining car full of blazers and cocktail dresses, in a tone which specified, clearly and resoundingly, that he was not referring to a nice little jelly or sorbet.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to embarrass me on my posh train?” Arthur asked, kicking him in the shin.

“Technically I embarrassed Gwen,” Merlin pointed out, shovelling one of the canapes into his mouth. “What are we doing tonight?” he asked, like an animal, through the canape, rather than after it.

“Drinking, I think,” Gwaine replied.

“There aren’t any excursions today,” Morgana said. “We’re getting off tomorrow at Glenfinnan, but tonight you’re free to do whatever you like, till dinner. Have some drinks, watch the scenery, break in your double bed.” She smirked at him.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “For the last time, I. Booked. A Twin.”

“He just missed me, is all,” Merlin said, turning on him a smirk almost as bothersome as Morgana’s.

“I don’t see how,” she said, sipping her tea. “I’m sure he has a little doll made of your hair that he sleeps with every night.”

“Yeah, but it just can’t live up to the real thing,” Merlin replied, ruffling it.

“I wish you’d never met. Or been born,” Arthur said pleasantly.

“Merlin, why don’t you give your bride a proper seeing-to in your double bed? He’s getting tetchy again.”

“Piss off,” Arthur said, and went to find, in the arms of some champagne, solace from the bitter reality of his genetics.

#featuring: and there was only one bed #fic #merthur #preview #writing

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