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#but it's just a knowledge i have and that makes me feel proud
driverlando · 1 day
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✧.* FAST AND FRIGHTFUL
synopsis - charles fellow drivers doubt he’s actually going out with you, until you both make a grand gesture in the paddock (actress!reader x Charles Leclerc)
a/n: I’m very new to this smau so please do reblog and show your support! thank you <3
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc and 113, 368 others
yourusername happy ABIGAIL day! Hope you all have a bloody good time watching it 😉🩸
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yourfan1 You were SO good! Loved the movie
yourfan2 loved the performance
alishaweir123 🩸🩸🩸🩸
yourfan3 how do you make covered in blood look good?!?! 😩
charles_leclerc you were amazing
↳ charlesfan1 a cross over no one expected
↳ yourfan4 so are we all just going to ignore the fact that Charles leclerc commented?
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LOVE IN VICTORY: CHARLES LECLERC CELEBRATES MONACO GRAND PRIX WIN WITH PADDOCK PDA
Monaco was not only the stage for Charles Leclerc’s historic triumph at the Grand Prix but also the backdrop for a heartwarming display of love as the Formula 1 sensation celebrated his victory with a passionate kiss from horror movie actress Y/N, confirming their blossoming romance in front of cheering fans and thrilled friends.
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A Moment of Joy and Affection
Amidst the jubilant atmosphere of the Monaco paddock, Charles Leclerc and Y/N shared a tender moment that stole the spotlight from the race itself. As Charles basked in the glory of his hometown victory, he rushed to y/ns side, her eyes shining with pride and admiration.
In a scene reminiscent of a Hollywood romance, Charles and Y/N embraced, their lips meeting in a sweet and spontaneous kiss that spoke volumes about the depth of their affection for each other. Cameras captured the intimate moment as cheers erupted from the crowd, congratulating the couple on their shared success and newfound love.
As news of their romance spread like wildfire, fans took to social media to express their delight and admiration for the happy couple. “I’ve always shipped Charles and Y/N!” tweeted one enthusiastic supporter. “They’re the perfect match!”
A Confirmation of Romance
While rumors of their relationship had been swirling for weeks, after Charles commented on y/ns post about her new horror movie Abigail, Charles and Y/N’s public display of affection in the paddock served as an official confirmation of their romance. With the world watching, the couple made no attempt to hide their feelings, embracing each other openly and without reservation.
From Victory Lane to Love Lane
For Charles and Y/N, their celebration in the paddock was about more than just victory—it was a celebration of their love and shared happiness. As they savored the sweet taste of success, they also embraced the joy of being together, united in their passion for each other and their respective careers.
What Lies Ahead for the Power Couple?
As the celebrations continued into the night, Charles and Y/N looked ahead to a future filled with love, laughter, and shared adventures. With their careers flourishing and their hearts entwined, they are ready to take on whatever challenges come their way, secure in the knowledge that they have each other by their side.
charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc Final Monaco Grand Prix post I promise! This one’s dedicated to this beauty, thanks for being there for me yesterday! love you mon chérie @yourusername ❤️🤍
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oscarpiastri I finally believe you 🫡
↳ landonorris hey, don’t believe everything you see online 🤣😉
↳ charles_leclerc get out of my comment section
yourusername I love you!! so unbelievably proud of you 🫶
[liked by charles_leclerc]
charlesfan1 THE PRINCE OF FERARI AND MONACO EVERYBODY!!
y/nfan1 you smashed it yesterday 😁
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beevean · 1 year
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I wonder if I've taken a liking to training in the gym because I can feel my progress, but I can't look back at my past accomplishments thus avoiding that sense of cringe at facing my past self.
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Growing up in an extremely ultra religious, cult-like family was a mindfuck for multiple reasons but that doesn't stop unfortunately, even when you escape. For example, see: The overwhelming feeling of boiling hatred and shame for who you used to be.
The angry hatred for the past person I used to be, the version of myself that mindlessly parroted my family's beliefs and listened to their every command, constantly simmered under my skin and invaded my every thought. I was embarrassed of what I used to be- even as I made friends of different ethnicities and faiths, as I listened and explored new ideas and worlds that I never knew existed, as I started the first LGBTQ+ club at my school and volunteered with kids who deserved so much more- there was always a little voice in the back of my head.
"They would hate you if they knew what you were. They would hate the horrendous teachings that were seared into your mind, the things that you used to say and believe. You are nothing but a pretender."
And it is true that my beliefs were bigoted in all the worst ways. It is true that I believed truly heart-wrenching things without a second thought and judged others in such harsh and unfair ways. I told myself that there was no coming back from that, not really. There was nothing I could do to ever make up for it.
Then I remembered that the person who said those things wore velcro light up sneakers and collected finger puppets that the librarians handed out as awards for reading picture books. The person that held signs at pro-life rallies and anti-LGBTQ+ protests had a cherished sticker book and hunted minnows in the creek after school and adored their puffle on club penguin and was really into greek mythology and had skinned knees from climbing trees at recess and knew every Disney song by heart and was absolutely terrified of the dark.
That person was a child.
I was a child.
It took a really long time. Years and years of reflection and distance, but I've decided that I can't hate the past version of myself anymore. I feel pity and remorse, I feel anger- I feel so much fury and violent rage- at what my childhood was and I grieve what could- no, should- have been, but I no longer resent who I was.
I'm not ashamed.
I am so, so, so unbelievably proud of that little kid. For being brave enough to leave the comfort and safety of what I was told was right. For not being afraid to be wrong. For seeking out information and knowledge in a culture that praised ignorance. For questioning everything, relentlessly.
I am by no means a perfect person, I never have been and I never will, but I am proud of myself in every iteration that has ever existed because I know that I have never stopped trying to understand and learn and grow, and I never will.
If you have ever been in a similar situation and feel similar things, first of all: My condolences on your lost childhood. Second of all: Please be nice to that past version of yourself and recognize all the hard work they did to make you who you are today. That person was a survivor and an inspiration. They deserve nothing but love.
#started anti depressants recently. kinda had an epiphany. i can't hate who i was. if i met me now i wouldn't blame that tiny child#for their rancid beliefs or for being dragged to protests. because thats a CHILD. i HAVE met kids in that position and i feel nothing but#pity and anger on their behalf. so why am i holding that version of myself to a higher standard?#i could not have known what i know now at 6 or 8 or 10. the same way that i could not have written a college level essay at that age#but i did what i could. in my own 8 y/o way. i believed in love and humanity and happiness. i was just misguided in the 'hows' of it all#and i am so so so so so proud. of every single microscopic step that i took. every question i asked. every thought that i hid and protected#and pondered secretly at night until new ideas and doubts bloomed like a dandelion through the pavement#and I'm so proud that i chased that doubt. that i asked why why why why until their ears bled and their voices were raw#until their answers stopped adding up. until i sought knowledge elsewhere with a mind dehydrated and malnourished and begging for knowledge#in any form i could get. i just. if i could hug that kid? if i could right now reach out and give that terrified and lonely child a hug?#i would. a million times over.#anyway sorry for the intense personal rant I'm just going through it rn and I'm like.... actually feeling alright#its wild. did you guys know about this??? anti depressants make you NOT depressed??? shits insane fam#irl#personal
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medicasino · 1 year
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ive just accepted im just never going to fit cleanly into any label or community ever
#affie txt#vent incoming sorry ik this is probably really annoying#and im also sorry if this comes off insensitive or ''i have it SO hard'' i dont mean to be like that#but just. no matter how my identity rolls out i always feel like an imposter in some way#when i ided as a lesbian i already knew i was nonbinary and despite my yearning to experience it; i never knew and will never experience#being a lesbian and a binary woman. and ofc when i ided as a nonbinary lesbian was during that whole bullshit ''nonbinary people cant be#lesbians'' debate that resurfaced so that didnt fucking help#but im not a lesbian im bi so that was easy i guess. or easier#not being binary or very knowledgeable on queer history (tbh i want to change this im not proud of that) and having not participated in#many pride events and queer spaces irl (due to uh. yunno. Covid lol)#has like really made me feel like an imposter that just doesnt fit in anywhere#and now coming to terms with me being transmasc and having a strong attraction towards men and nonbinary folks has really uh. shaken things#up#and not fully in a good way bc its left me scrambling to put together the pieces#its left me in sooooooooooooo much distress i feel like so sick over it#its. not fun. esp bc im still pre-op so very girlish in appearance and voice eugh#and on top of that im also still nonbinary and do feel more neutral/androgynous some days and also consider myself gnc bc i like feminine#clothes and stuff so like. AUGH! and im also fucking 5'1-2 so no matter if i bind or get top surgery or etc i dont think ill ever pass as#not a girl so . pain!#and even saying all that makes me feel guilty bc its like. is that just internalized misogyny? am i misogynistic for feeling this way? and#IK IN MY RATIONAL MIND THATS BULLSHIT AND THIS IS *ONLY* ABT ME NOT OTHER TRANSMASCS AND NBLMS/MLMS TO BE CLEAR#im just an anxious mess with ocd and anxiety in general that just loooooooooooves latching onto bullshit like this to prove im predatory or#weird. also other ocd themes dont fucking help?#idk ill shut up now i need to be on a call but just like. its painful bc i dont feel like i fit into any queer communities lol#this also applies to disability stuff but im NOT cracking that can of worms open today sorry#ok gopdbye for now . responses are ok btw but also no pressure im kinda just emptying my head lol#vent#rant#ask to tag
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theygender · 2 years
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Working in excel with your only other coworker who also knows how to use excel
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#we're compiling data up in this bitch lads#using formulas and pressing buttons#we're making NUMBERS#rambling#real talk tho it was nice getting to work with her today#i pulled off a really difficult project and it was nice to show it to someone who understood the amount of work that went into it#my spreadsheet was set up all pretty BUT i needed advice on how best to communicate the data i needed over into an email for leadership#and she was able to show me how she puts together HER report on her spreadsheet for leadership#bc shes the only other person who compiles data on a spreadsheet for leadership#she's my 50yo work best friend who has a lot of knowledge about excel from her previous jobs using it in management#so it was nice to get advice from someone who has experience with it instead of having to google everything#my work mom and i are going to revolutionize our department one excel formula at a time 😌#im excited to put the stuff she recommended into place for these audits that im gonna start doing tbh#i volunteered to put these sheets together and compile the data for leadership completely unprompted. just like for fun#both bc it will improve my job by helping leadership take action on the common issues that we're seeing#AND bc autism hungry feed it numbers#im very proud of my work and i feel like narcissus looking at my own reflection every time i open the sheet ahdsjskk#i just got approval to put the spreadsheet together a few weeks ago and i presented my findings in a meeting today#and thats when i put forward the idea of compiling the data to send out to leadership on a monthly basis#and everyone seemed to really like it! and they liked the idea of that#i felt very proud#apparently upper management has actually been asking my supervisor if we have that sort of data#and she was able to tell them 'well ACTUALLY eli just put together a spreadsheet about it take a look'#im getting a good grade in spreadsheet. something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve#and itll probably look good on my resume and stuff but the important part is good grade in spreadsheet
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scientia-rex · 2 months
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One of my patients used to be a Big Deal Specialist in the city and you can just TELL he’s SEETHING that no one out here is even qualified to understand what he did, much less how important he was. He’s also terrified of death. It’s both annoying and really sad. Like, sir, I hate to break it to you, but no amount of knowledge will protect you from the ravages of time. It’s a special kind of hell to know the stages of various fatal diseases intimately. What is it going to feel like when it’s my turn? How do doctors want to die? Suddenly, quietly. Slip away painlessly in my sleep. But how likely is that? Not very. More likely I’ll get cardiovascular disease or cancer, the greatest killers of our time.
He was so afraid of cancer he had an organ that wasn’t cancerous removed just in case. He talks down to me as if I’m his student, and who knows? Maybe I was. He was in the same city as me, and they were forever dragging Big Name Doctors in to teach us things. Maybe I learned how to elicit Achilles tendon reflexes from him.
But mostly I find myself a little scornful. Who lives without the shadow of death? Who doesn’t think about death all the time? When you die, life is a round thing, finished and whole. What will your life look like when God holds it in the palm of his hand?
Also don’t fucking call me by my first name unless I’ve specifically said you can. I don’t GIVE that permission to patients, except for my mentally ill trans and queer patients. If I wanted to be disrespected by an older man I would have married young.
You do not have time. This important doctor who based his whole life around his importance lived as rich and full a life as anyone. And now he’s clinging to it, leaving fingernail marks on the walls on his way out. No one has time. There will be a moment when you’re dying when you think, I would give anything I have to be back in that moment. Any ordinary moment. Taking the dogs out to go potty. Browsing at the grocery store. When you’re being crucified on a hospital bed, dying and aware of it through the morphine, you would give anything you ever possessed to go back and have one more agony-free afternoon. Sit on a curb or a stoop. Walk through a park. Hug your spouse. These tiny fragmentary moments that we are constantly sliding through, tobogganing past at high speeds, these are what will be our life when our life is over.
I am accountable to that self. To the dying me. What did I do with this gift and curse? I don’t believe in God, but I know that I will die, and I have watched enough dying people by now to know the kinds of things I’ll think about. I want to make that me proud of what I’ve done and how I’ve spent my life. She will be a harder judge than God, and I want her to look at this one little life and think, yes. I did what I meant to.
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theemporium · 21 days
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[3.5k] after his iconic first race win in formula one, lando gets to celebrate with his three favourite people. or, the charlandax smut i accidentally promised after a lando win with a lestappen podium. (smut)
note: this is fucking filthy and i kinda feel like i need to go to a confession booth. okay bye, nobody perceive me after this. she’s also unedited so beware (I’m too lazy to reread and edit rn)
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Lando Norris felt like he was on top of the fucking world but maybe that was just how it felt from the top step of the podium.
It hadn’t really hit him yet, despite his ears ringing from his own screams and the cheers from the crowd and the fans and his own team. It didn’t feel real until the national anthem began playing through the speakers, until he heard his team singing along, until he realised this was his reality. 
He was a Grand Prix winner. 
Finally. 
Surreal was the only word to describe how he felt. After years of second-place and third-place podium finishes, of people telling him his time would come, of having so many close calls, he did it. He fucking did it. And he didn’t just skim a win, it was fully fucking his as he soared past the chequered flag.
And for once, Lando basked in the knowledge that all eyes were on him. It didn’t give him that prickling, itching feeling under his skin. It didn’t make him want to  hunch his shoulders up to his ears. It didn’t make the little voice in the back of his head send him spiralling over every little thing he could be doing wrong. 
He had just won the Miami Grand Prix and everyone was staring at him and he fucking loved it.
But it meant more than just a win to Lando, it meant so much more than a trophy to add to his collection back home. It was about the years spent achieving this dream. It was about the effort and the support he had from the team to reach this point. It was about sharing this moment and standing on the podium with two people who meant the fucking world to him with the third watching all three of them from down below. 
It meant the fucking world to Lando. 
It was a blur of happiness and excitement and adrenaline as he stood on that top step. It felt like he was in a movie when the trophy was handed to him, the number one staring back at him like it was reminding him he had done it. It felt like a fucking dream when the champagne celebration started, his hand barely wrapped around the neck of the bottle when Charles and Max drenched and drowning him in champagne.
It was completely fucking unbelievable this was finally his reality.
Time was a blur of big smiles, loud cheers and so many people congratulating him. It was overwhelming in the best way possible, it made something in his chest burst with pride as he felt his team slap him on the back as he walked through the garage. He felt like his life was complete when you threw your arms around him, tugging him close until your bodies felt like one.
“M’so cold,” he murmured as he wound his arms around you, holding you closer as he buries his face into your neck for some privacy, despite the countless cameras pointing at him.
“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered back, just loud enough for him to hear because he was the only one who mattered in that moment. “This is the first of many.”
He sniffled, feeling his throat close up a bit but he just squeezed you tighter when the words didn’t come out as smoothly as he wanted. 
However, you were pulled away from him seconds later as he was directed towards the camera. With media duties and team debriefs and many more commitments, he didn’t have time to stop and celebrate with the people he wanted. He had to perform for the cameras, for the fans, for the people watching before he could. 
And honestly, he couldn't complain. There were worse problems to have.
His brain was running a million miles an hour, so many thoughts and feelings and emotions to try and comprehend that he barely noticed the other person in his driver’s room until the door shut behind him and he felt a pair of lips on his. 
“I am so proud of you, mon champion,” Charles murmured against his lips, the kiss short-lived due to the huge smile on his face. He pulled back enough to look at Lando properly, his hands holding the Brit’s face. “So, so proud of you.”
Lando felt his cheeks burn. “M’glad you and Max were up there with me,” he admitted, that funny feeling in his chest returning before he glanced around the room noticing that Charles was the only one in his driver room. “Where are the others?” Pause. “How did you even sneak in here?”
“I have my ways,” Charles answered vaguely, his eyes glinting with mischief. “And I’m here to help you hurry up. They are waiting in the car.” 
Lando snorted. “And they sent you to hurry me up?” 
“I may have come third, mon amour, but I’m still fast.” 
Despite his words, it took a few more minutes of Charles pressing kisses all over his face and mumbling a load of French that Lando didn’t understand before he was finally able to grab his belongings and make it out of the McLaren motorhome. 
His whole body was buzzing with energy, far too hyped up to even care about the way his face burned when he climbed into the backseat of Charles’ race weekend car, unable to wipe the smile off his face. 
This. 
This was what he had been waiting for. 
This moment to be with the people who loved more than his heart knew he was capable of. A moment to be with the people who believed in him no matter what, even when the rest of the world doubted him. 
And if Lando was being so completely honest, he was so lost in the buzz of his win that he didn’t think anything about your hand resting on his upper thigh. He was still lost in the race a few hours ago, still lost in the feeling of crossing the line and hearing Will’s voice over the radio confirming he secured his first Formula One Grand Prix win. 
So lost in that moment that he barely had a chance to drop his backpack on the floor of Max’s huge hotel suite before the Dutchman was reaching for him. With the privacy of the hotel room door locked from the rest of the world, Max didn’t hold back as he raked his hand through Lando’s curls. His fingers twisted in his hair, tugging sharply as his teeth nipped the Brit’s bottom lip. 
Lando couldn’t help himself when he let out a whine.
“Fuck,” Max groaned, tugging on his hair again as he watched Lando’s eyes flutter shut. “Look at our race winner, hm? So pretty, schat.”
Lando’s lips parted but words were lost on him. Instead, his eyes darted where you saddled up against Max’s side, head resting on his shoulder as you looked at Lando with a massive grin. 
“I think you broke him,” you teased, a faux pout on your lips. “Guess that throws all our plans out the window.”
Lando blinked before quickly shaking his head. “I—no, wait, what plans?”
Max grinned. “Your reward, baby. Didn’t think we were gonna celebrate your big day, huh?”
“I—” Lando paused, feeling something deep in his stomach twist in desire. “I just…I don’t know. I thought we were gonna go out…or something.”
“We could,” Charles spoke up as he slipped in behind Lando, his hands on the younger boy’s waist. “If that’s what you want. We can go out and celebrate with everyone else.”
Lando swallowed. “Or?”
“Or,” you repeated, your eyes lingering on his kiss-swollen lips. “You let us treat you like a proper race winner.”
“And what does that treatment include?” Lando asked, because that was just who he was. That little brat in him that wanted to know his options, that wanted to know exactly how he was being rewarded, who wanted to know exactly what was getting done to him. The little brat in him that was mouthy and sassy and usually got put in his place—that wanted to be put in his place.
And Max knew that. He knew that if he reached down, Lando was probably half-hard already. He knew that no matter what he said, Land would be down for it. He could see the glint in the Brit’s eyes, that realisation of what he could have without realising it. 
“Anything you want,” Max murmured, his thumb lightly tracing along Lando’s bottom lip. “You’re the winner, Lando. Our winner.”
Anything you want. 
That was his limit—completely fucking endless. He had all the control in the palm of his hands to do whatever he pleased, whatever he desired, whatever he fucking wanted. 
But that wasn’t what Lando wanted. He didn’t want to be in charge. He didn’t want to be the person making the calls and decisions. That wasn’t his role in the bedroom and he never really wanted to be. He liked being the one who got to lay back, the one that people tried to tame and dominate only to realise he didn’t listen as easily as people wanted. 
He liked being the one that people worked to break. 
So, that was exactly what Max gave to him and Lando only slightly regretted his decision as he slumped back against the Dutchman, grinding his ass back against the older boy’s straining cock as he threw his head back against Max’s shoulder.
“Please, please, please,” Lando whined, trying to buck his hips forwards but Max kept his body in place, just where he wanted him. “S’too much.”
“I know, schatje,” Max mused, pressing a lingering kiss at the base of his neck just to hear Lando let out a small moan at the contact. “But look how pretty they look for you, all for you. You don’t want them to stop, do you?” 
But Lando couldn’t bring himself to respond. 
“None of that,” Max muttered, squeezing Lando’s sides to get the boy to listen. “Thought my winner was gonna be good for me, huh? Look at them, Lando. Look how good they are being for you. Look at how much they are enjoying this.”
The boy only managed to let out a whimper as he fluttered his eyes open, his chin tucking into his chest as he looked down at the sight Max was demanding of him. 
And, fuck, it made his knees buckle.
The two of you were absolute fucking messes. It felt like something out of a porno, one that would have Lando panting and whining and fantasising about because never once did he think it was realistic. And yet, here you and Charles were, looking like something out of his deepest desires. 
He couldn’t focus on one of you, it would have been a crime to not stare and ogle you both. The way you both looked utterly perfect on your knees in front of him, glossy eyes and flushed cheeks and looking so fucking blissed out as you both worshipped his cock—like you were fulfilling a purpose, like this was what the two of you were made for. 
And it was messy as fuck, something that maybe would have been gross to everyone else in the world, but Lando thought it was so fucking hot. The evidence of his previous orgasms splattered across you both, covering your lips and chins and naked chests. The way your lips wrapped around the head of his cock as Charles licked down the underside of his cock until he nosed Lando's balls. The way Charles had one hand wrapped around his leaking cock, pumping and stroking himself as you squeezed and played with your tits like it would give you some relief. 
But it wasn’t about your pleasure or Charles’ or Max’s. 
It was all about Lando. 
“Such good sluts on their knees for you,” Max muttered, lips brushing against his ear as his warm breath tickled against Lando’s skin. “Usually that’s you, schat. Getting on your knees for me, doing whatever I tell you.”
“Fuck,” he let out in a breathless whimper, turning his head to try and nuzzle his face into Max’s neck. 
“Do you like this, Lando? Like seeing them be such whores for your cock? So desperate and needy?” Max continued, his hands tightening on the younger boy’s waist as he looked down at you and Charles.
You let out a whine at his words, your thighs clenched together and your eyes fluttering shut as you traced your tongue along the slit of his cock. Your moans vibrated around his cock, leaving the boy a puddle underneath your touch as Charles placed wet, open-mouthed kisses along his balls. 
“Bet they would stay there all night if you wanted them to,” Max mused as his eyes caught teary green eyes staring up at him, desperation shining in the pretty colour of them. “Bet Charles would love to take your cock down his pretty throat, he always does it so well for me. Hm, amour? Think you could take our pretty winner’s cock like a good boy?”
The sound Charles let out was pitiful and straight out of a fucking porno.
“Max,” Lando breathed out, his hands reaching back to try and grab onto the Dutchman. “Please, I-I need…”
“What do you need?” Max questioned, squeezing his sides. “Need more than their mouths, baby? Or maybe you need more than that.”
Lando felt his whole face burn as he let out a shameless moan when one of Max’s hands began wandering, when his fingers brushed along his skin before squeezing the fat of his ass. 
“The champagne wasn’t enough, hm? Maybe we need to fill you up,” Max suggested, like it was something as casual as talking about dinner options. “Bet you’d feel so nice and tight around me, baby. Maybe let Charles fill your pretty throat instead.”
“Please,” Lando whined.
“Yeah, you want that?” He could feel Max’s smile against his skin. “Let our pretty girl bounce on your cock whilst we fill you up? She would look so pretty sitting on top of you.”
Lando nodded his head vigorously, his nails slightly digging into Max’s skin. “I need it, Max, need it so bad.”
Max’s teeth scraped along the side of his neck. “Beg for it.” 
So he did. 
He begged for it until his voice was hoarse and his legs were shaking and his babbles were practically incoherent. He begged until he felt Max’s lips on his skin, joined by Charles and yours moments later as you three kissed and worshipped every inch of his body. He begged until his face was burning red, his blush spreading down his neck and chest as you praised him—your race winner—until he couldn’t take it any more.
He begged for it as you held his face, prepping kisses all over his face whilst Max worked him open. 
He begged for it as Charles marked along his neck and chest to help him relax as Max slowly slid inside him, stretching him open until he was a whimpering mess.
He begged for it as you slowly sunk down on his cock, your cunt already soaking and slick with your own arousal as he buried himself inside you. 
He begged for it until his hands were gripping Charles’ thighs, nails digging into his skin as he urged his cock further down his throat until he felt fucking full.
“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, rocking your hips back and forth as you let your hands skim along his skin. Your fingers traced along the planes of his abs, watching them softly clench under your touch before you traced along his sides. You kept your hands moving, feeling the need to touch every fucking inch of him as he preened and squirmed under your touch. “You look so perfect like this.” 
Lando let out a muffled moan around Charles’ cock.
“Letting us fill you up, make you feel so good,” you continued, the walls of your pussy clenching around him. “This is what our race winner deserves. So pretty and fast today, baby, it’s so hot.”
One of his hands let go of Charles, blindly reaching out towards you until you caught the hint to intertwine your fingers together. You raised it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss onto the back of his hand and something about the soft gesture whilst his body was being fucked into an inch of his life made the boy spiral. 
He couldn’t do anything but just take it, let the overwhelming pleasure wash over him until his whole body felt like it was on fire. His nerve endings felt like they had been turned up beyond the dial, like every touch was more thrilling than he could ever imagine. The words of praise was a muffled mess around him, three voices all mixed together as he felt hands all over his body. He felt safe, he felt full, he felt complete. 
It was a blur of too much pleasure and excitement and gratification when he finally came, white spots dotting his vision as he felt himself completely spill inside you whilst your cunt clenched around him, as Max’s cock hit the perfect spot deep inside him with every thrust. He was so lost in his own orgasm, in his own moans and whines and noises to fully realise the domino effect he started. 
To really appreciate the sight of you coming on his cock, bouncing up and down on his cock whilst your tits moved with each thrust. To really enjoy the sensation of Max coming deep inside him, squeezing him so hard that he was sure his skin would bruise the next day. To watch the way Charles stroked himself a few more times before spilling over his chest, just for you to lean down and lick up the mess until you leaned down to kiss him senseless. 
To be completely honest, he was waiting to wake up and realise this whole day was a dream. 
But he blinked. And blinked once more for good measure. And your smiling face was still there to reassure him this was real, that everything about today was real. 
“Hey,” he whispered, voice a little rough and hoarse. 
“Hey, baby,” you grinned back at him as you raised your hand to gently cup his face, your thumb wiping away a few stray tears that slipped out. “How are you feeling, Mr Race Winner?”
And despite the exhaustion settled deep in his bones, Lando beamed at you. “Feel like I’m the king of this fucking world.”
You giggled. “Then our job here is complete.” 
Lando huffed out a laugh, his eyes fluttering shut as he tried to fight the urge to curl up and sleep for the next week straight. 
“Don’t tell me that’s you done for the night,” Max’s voice spoke from somewhere else in the room, somewhere away from the bed but Lando couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes just yet. “There’s a whole city wanting to celebrate with you tonight.”
“Ugh, being a race winner is so much work,” Lando whined playfully, reaching for you to pull you closer before you could pull away from him. “Let’s just stay here forever.”
“All a part of the title, mon amour,” Charles teased as he settled down beside the younger boy on the bed. He leaned in, placing a quick kiss to Lando’s forehead. “I heard the other drivers making bets on who could buy you the most shots.”
Lando let out a breath. “Fuck, they are gonna try to kill me.”
“We wouldn’t let that happen,” you assured him, but he could hear the smile in your voice. “I’m sure Max would join you.”
“Thanks, schat,” Max grumbled as he wandered back into the room, a wet washcloth in his hand. “We have a few hours before we are meant to meet everyone anyways. Have a nap, you can shower when you wake up.”
Lando blinked his eyes open, a cheeky smile on his face. “Alone?”
Max rolled his eyes. “It’s never enough for you.”
“I’m a high maintenance guy,” Lando replied. 
“We know,” you murmured with a snort, only to gasp when he pinched your side. “Hey!”
“You can’t yell at me, I’m a race winner,” he shot back at you, grinning wider when you rolled your eyes. 
“Yes, that is exactly how this works,” Charles snorted as he slumped down on the pillow beside Lando, reaching for the Brit to curl up beside him. “That and club blowjobs.”
“It was one time,” Max grumbled. “And it wasn’t even my idea!”
“I didn’t regret it for a second,” you smiled shamelessly at the Dutchman before raising your hand, trying to pull him down onto the bed with the three of you. “C’mon, we can clean up properly later. I wanna cuddle.” 
“So needy.”
“In the wise words of race winner Lando Norris, I’m a high maintenance guy.”
“Hell yeah, baby,” Lando murmured, his cheek pressed into the pillow with a sleepy smile on his face. “Someone stitch that onto a pillow.” 
“Please go to sleep before I gag you both.” 
“They would probably like that, mon amour.”
“You too, Charles.” 
“Always so bossy, Verstappen.”
.
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urlocalfeiner · 1 year
Text
is it selfish to want you? | neteyam sully
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gif by me!
pairing: neteyam sully x omaticiya!fem! reader
warnings: so much fluff, swearing, heated kissing, bonding, mating, intimate
a/n: both neteyam and you are about 17 in this, as to my knowledge that is when na'vi are declared as adults and are allowed to find a mate. please correct me if i am wrong!
masterlist!
neteyam sully was a boy of many things, he was a mighty warrior, loved by most- desired by more. he was easily one of the most sought out na'vi in the clan, many women in the clan had their eyes on him. they would do anything neteyam asked of them in a heartbeat- all waiting in anticipation for the day he would pick a mate to help him lead the clan.
but neteyam paid no attention to any of them, he had interest in not one other woman in the clan, except for you. his heart belonged to you and you didn't even know it. to him no na'vi even held so much as a finger to you and your beauty, your strong heart and mind- he honestly couldn't pinpoint any flaw you had even if he was held at gunpoint because in his eyes you truly had none. you were completely and utterly perfect.
but the one woman he wanted was the one that wasn't chasing after him- what he didn't know if that you had been pinning after him just as he did for you, but you were sure he did not return the feelings you had for him. he had all these women wanting him, why would he want you?
"neteyam!" he snapped his head at the sound of your voice calling his name, watching as you approached him with a small smile on your face. he was sitting on the forest floor carving a piece of wood. "do you know where kiri is?"
neteyam would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed when you asked him where his sister was, "sorry, i do not know." you sighed, plopping yourself down on the ground next to him- only now taking notice of what he was doing, carving something.
neteyam saw you were staring at what he was making out of wood with curiosity. "this is for tuk, lo'ak broke her other ikran toy." he tried to show you a bit better, removing his thumb a bit to make it more visible.
you chuckled- which brought butterflies to neteyam's chest. "poor tuk."
"i would say poor ikran, it got his neck snapped off." he joked, recalling how lo'ak accidently stepped on the wooden toy and tuk crying over the decapitated toy.
you laughed at his joke, "ah yes, poor ikran." he was not nearly done with carving the wooden toy, "do you mind if i stay?"
does neteyam mind if you stay? what kind of question was that? he did not mind, not one bit. with every fiber of his body he wanted you to stay- he wanted you to always be with him. "not one bit." he was excited that you wished to stay with him instead of finding the others which were probably doing something more fun than what he was.
you watched as his hands worked delicately, sure of every little move he made with his small knife when it met with the deep oak wood- your eyes slowly traveled up to his arms which were filled with muscle. it was no surprise, he was incredibly strong- his muscles just proved the point of it.
you admired his arms- as weird as it sounded, watching how the muscles tensed as he carved.
neteyam noticed how quiet you were being, turning to look at you slowly. realising you had your eyes trained on his toned arms, he felt a smirk coming to his lips- suddenly feeling confident. "my arm must be nice to look at, hm?"
you snapped your eyes away from his arm, heat spreading to your face- embarrassed you had just been caught staring at his arms. oh eywa, you have never wished to disappear more than you wanted to now. "uh, no?" it came out as more of a question than anything- you were a flustered mess.
he chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to work on carving tuk's toy. he felt proud that he could make you flustered- and was never more grateful for his toned arms. "right, that is why you were staring at them for so long." he teased you more.
"i was staring at them because of how dirty they are," you tried to regain yourself, rolling your eyes playfully- his arms did in fact have dirt on them from when he was out hunting that morning. "you need to go for a wash."
neteyam glared at you playfully, swiping his finger on his arm collecting some dirt and smeared it on your cheek. you slapped his finger away, groaning. "neteyam!- you skxqwng!" you rubbed your cheek in attempt to get the dirt that he had put on your face off. "i just cleaned myself!"
he grinned as he looked at your cheek- which was smeared with dirt, in your attempt to clean it you had made it worse- spreading it. "my finger slipped, sorry." he innocently said.
you raised your hand, slapping the side of his head harshly- making him shoot his hand up to his head that stung from your hit. "sorry, my hand slipped." you repeated his words, smirking.
but your smirk soon vanished as a smug look came to his face- you knew he was about to do something. and you were proved right as he stood up quickly, urapiductly picking you up, flinging your body over his shoulders with ease. you had not time to react with how fast he was at doing so and before you knew it he began to walk- your face being smushed into his back as one of his hands was holding you in place, the other holding your legs so you don't kick him.
"neteyam!-" you hit his back with your fist, trying to make him let go of you. "let go of me!- ugh, bitch!" he chuckled at the name you had decided to call him.
you continued to hit his back- your punches had no effect on him, his hold becoming tighter on you as you tried to squirm off his shoulders- having no success. you stopped fighting him as he suddenly came to a stop, hoping he was about to let you down. he let you down, just not in the way you had planned for.
he moved you from his shoulders, now holding you bridal style- he held a smirk on his face as he looked down at you. you were confused, looking around you. your eyes widened as you saw a large pond in front of you- knowing what he was about to do. you looked back to him, narrowing your eyes dangerously at him. telling him not to do it. "neteyam, let go of m-!" before you could finish your sentence you felt yourself get flung from his arms.
the cold water hitting your body as you landed in the water, as you resurfaced breathing heavily from not preparing yourself you looked up to neteyam who was standing on the dry grass in front of the pond, watching you in amusement.
before you could open your mouth to speak, neteyam once again interrupted you this time by jumping into the water right next to you- causing a large splash, the water getting in your mouth. you were truly done with this boy.
neteyam pulled his head out of the water, flinging his now wet braids away from his face so he could see you clearly- you had a sour look on your face as you glared at him. he was grinning widely, showing off his fangs. "what? you said to let you go."
"not like that!" you yelled at him, keeping yourself afloat. "i am going to kill you."
he raised one eyebrow teasingly, amused. "oh yeah?"
without a reply you swam forward at him, hitting him repeatedly as he laughed trying to swat your hands away- he quickly pulled himself underwater and before you could react you felt yourself being pulled under as well.
you opened your eyes under the water that you had just been dragged under, seeing neteyam in front of you grinning. you lunged forward at him in the water as he quickly dodged you- not fast enough though as you got a hold of his tail, pulling him back. you felt a smile make its way to your face as you saw neteyam's angry expression under the vision of the slightly murky water.
he swam forward to you, wrapping both his arms around your body, trapping you- pushing you both deeper under the water- as the two of you stopped fighting one another he admired how you looked. your hair floating above you, which looked almost magical- your white spots that couted your face glowing in the darkness of the water. ewya, if neteyam didn't run out of breath from being in water for too long, he was sure you would. your blushed as the two of you held eye contact- it felt so intimate, his hands wrapped around you gently as he floated just aboved you looking down at your face.
you seemed to have forgotten you couldn't breath underwater for a second, it finally registered to you that you were out of breath as neteyam pulled you and him back to the surface to breathe.
as you reached it the two of you gasped for air, regaining your breath. when you did the two of you bursted out laughing- you were suddenly glad he had thrown you in the water. oh how much fun you had with him, he never failed to put a smile on your face no matter what circumstances it was under.
as your laughter died down, you realised how cold you were- shivering slightly from the water. neteyam too realising the coldness, looking at you, “come on.” he softly said, pulling you to the edge were the dry grass was.
neteyam reached his hand out to help you up, you took it gratefully- you too now on the dry land. as you emerged small droplets from the water coated your body, dripping slowly into the soul beneath you. neteyam felt his heart pick up its rhythm, you looked like a goddess, you always did.
“i can’t believe you chucked us both in the water with nothing to dry ourselves off with.” you groaned, glaring at neteyam playfully who shrugged innocently- more time with you that meant.
you sat down on a nearby rock that was by the large pond, neteyam following sitting right in front of you. waiting for yourselves to dry off. neteyam looked at you, you were still shivering- hugging your legs for warmth. he slid forward on the rock a bit, sliding an arm around your should bringing you closer to him- he rubbed your arm in comfort.
you melted into his touch, how was he so warm after getting out of the cold pond?- whilst you were still freezing. “you’re warm.”
he chuckled looking down at you, “you’re cold.”
you glared up at him, rolling your eyes. “maybe because you threw me into a cold pond?” he sighed, playfully pulling away from you- you missed the warmth of his body as soon as he did so, “okay, okay i’m sorry- please come back.” he laughed sliding back over, engulfing you in his arms once more.
it all felt so right, you in his arms. you silently wished to stay like this for the rest of your life, in his arms. neteyam too wished the same thing.
he stroked your hair gently, running his fingers through its dampness- you closed your eyes slowly, enjoying the head massage. neteyam smiled as he saw your peaceful expression, all he ever wanted to do was make you happy- and he wanted to do that for the rest of his life.
he continued to run his fingers through your hair, a comforting silence falling over the two of you. the only noise coming from the flowing water from the small waterfall that lead into the pond.
“thank you.” neteyam suddenly said, breaking the silence- which you were quite confused at what he was thanking you about.
opening your eyes, looking at neteyam with a confused expression. “for what?”
for what? for everything you did, for being alive, for being you- there were so many things he could thank you about. “for being there for me like today. it’s good to have some fun, training has made me have less free time lately- it may be selfish but, i miss it.”
your face softened as you sat up, removing your head from his shoulder. you knew he his father had been going harder on him than usual as he was coming quicker to the age of where he would become olo'eyktan- you suddenly felt like he needed a hug, or maybe you just wanted to be close to him. you didn’t really know. you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, holding his head with one hand the other around his neck.
neteyam hadn't realised how much he needed a hug until now, breathing in your scent that he knows by heart now. wrapping his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
"i miss having you around too," you whispered into his neck, it sent shivers down his spine. you pulled away slightly so you could see neteyam's face, you pushed away a loose braid that always fell in front of his face. "and it is not selfish to want something, nete."
neteyam stared into your eyes, he swore he could drown in them and he would be completely content with going down like that. your words echoed in his mind, it is not selfish to want something- he wanted you to be his and him to be yours until the end of time itself- he yearned for you so much it hurt whenever he saw you speak to another male in the clan, he knew it was selfish of him but he only wanted you to speak to him. he wanted to be the one to show you the wonders of the world, he wanted to be the one who got to kiss your lips at night, he wanted to be the one whose name you whispered in the dark. neteyam sully wanted you and only you.
"is it selfish of me to want you?" his voice was quiet, in a whisper as the two of you held each others eyes. your mouth parted slightly, not sure if you had heard him right. had neteyam sully, the boy you had been in love with since young just speak those words? "is it selfish to want to be the only one that can look at you?"
"no." your voice was in a whisper, matching his. his eyes trailed down to your lips then back to your eyes- you had not missed it.
he reached out his hand placing it on your chin, gently pulling your face closer to his. you didn't fight it at all, you leaned in closer. your lips grazing each others. "good." he whispered against your lips, breaking the small gap between the two of you.
as your lips met his a spark appeared within you, whispering that this was meant to be. the kiss was short but was passionate, the two of your first kisses. neteyam loved that he was the one to be your first kiss and yours his.
the two of you broke away slowly, staring into each others eyes which were filled with desire and love. "you're so beautiful." he said as he pressed his lips to yours once again- this kiss was not like the first one, it was more messy, your lips chasing one another. he continued to kiss you, deepening the kiss as his hand slipped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap- now straddling him with your legs. "is this okay?" he asked softly, searching your face for any slight bit of uncomfortableness- but there was none.
you smiled, cupping his jaw in your hand, leaning into him. "more than okay, nete." was this what heaven felt like?- that is what neteyam was asking himself, because this was heaven.
his name against your tongue as you kissed him- eywa, it was enough to make him fall limp. his hand was on your lower back, supporting you so you didn't fall as he slid his tongue into your mouth. the other hand on your jaw softly. your hands found it way to his braids, tanginling your fingers in them- trying to pull him closer to you.
his lips began to trail down your neck, earning slight whimpers from you. it was the most beautiful sound neteyam had ever heard in his life. "keep making those noises." it came out without thinking as he continued to suck on your neck- you were embarrassed by the whimpers that escaped your mouth, but when neteyam said that you felt all the embarrassment slip away.
he pulled away from your neck, smirking as he saw the marks he left scattered across it. "neteyam," you hissed, "people are going to see those, you skxqwng." though, you weren't sure if you actually cared.
he grinned at your annoyed expression, "then they will see you are mine." you couldn't help but smile at what he said.
that was when you decided to make it official, it was the biggest decision of your life- you had been told that it would be a hard one to make as you would be with the one you bonded with for life. but, this was the easiest decision you had made in your life.
you slowly grabbed your braid that fell behind your back, bringing it forward to neteyam. his mouth fell slightly agape, looking up to you. "are you sure?" he asked, worried you may regret it later- he knew he would in fact never regret it, he didn't want you to though.
"neteyam, i have never been so sure of anything before." you smiled softly at him, that was all neteyam needed- he grabbed his queue and brought it forward with his hand your queues mere inches away from one another.
the two of you looked at one other, as you brought your queues to the other. the tsaheylu was formed.
both you and neteyam's breath hitched and pupils dilated as you looked from the bond to one another- you had never felt anything like this before, you could feel him, everything. his breath, heart beat, his feelings to you.
"i see you, y/n." neteyam breathed out, you swore you had never been happier- and neteyam could feel how happy you were when he spoke the words through the bond which made him smile.
"i see you, neteyam."
eywa had heard the two of your wishes and answered them. you and neteyam sully were now one, mated for life.
10K notes · View notes
makoodles · 11 months
Text
ミ the mightiest
part 1 | part 2
🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader 🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
notes: okay i had to split this into two parts because it surpassed the tumblr word limit 🙃 here’s part 1, and I’ll post part 2 in a day or two!
adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!
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The tsahìk’s hut is cool and dark, offering a much needed reprieve from the hot balmy air of the day outside. It’s been a quiet day for you, though you can’t complain about that; it’s a pleasant change of pace from the usual hectic rush of people that usually pass through.
It’s one of the rare days that Mo’at has left you to tend to the duties of the healing hut alone; it had taken years to reach this level of trust with her, and you find yourself almost deliriously proud to be able to help out. Na’vi medicinal practices are very different to human ones, but your training in first-aid has given you enough knowledge and experience to hold your own when it comes to helping out with the smaller day-to-day ailments that tend to pass through the healing hut.
Besides, you’re always happy to give Mo’at a break. She had claimed that she needed time to commune with Eywa, though secretly you suspect that she just likes to take some time to herself in her old age. But that’s fine – you’ve always found helping out in the healing hut soothing, and your heart swells at the fact that Mo’at trusts you enough to leave you in charge, even if it’s only for a few hours.
It also helps when your patient is a big, hunky alien warrior with more muscles than brains, who sits in front of you as you smear a herbal paste over the scratches he had gotten in training earlier that day.
Txeyto is not an easy patient; he flinches when you prod his wounds, whines when you clean them, and complains as you smear the paste on his scrapes. It’s a little irritating, but the sight of his big broad shoulders and chiselled abdomen is enough to soothe the worst of your aggravation.
“Are you nearly finished?” Txeyto complains, flinching away from your fingers once more.
You bite your tongue and force a smile. Patience has never been your strong suit, and Txeyto is certainly testing the short reserves you have left. But he’s very handsome, and very skilled at archery, and you feel that his physical attractiveness outweighs the minor personality flaws.
“Yes, just another few moments.” You murmur, keeping your voice low and soothing as though speaking to a child.
Txeyto settles a little when you use the baby voice on him, and you struggle to keep your face blank at the ridiculousness of it all. Men are such children, even the big strong Na’vi warriors that should be above such behaviour. He’s lucky he’s handsome.
“How did you get these injuries, hm?” You ask, using a light touch to dab some of Mo’at’s specially formulated healing paste onto his scrapes. You keep your fingers as gentle as possible, but Txetyo still winces dramatically.
He perks up at your question, his tails swaying low over the floor where you’re both sat cross-legged. “I have been training very hard. I am one of the best archers in the village now.”
“No doubt.” You murmur distractedly as you work.
“But it is important for a tsamsiyu to be competent in many forms of combat, so I must practice my hand-to-hand combat also,” Txetyo continues, apparently forgetting to wince now that he’s talking. “Neteyam has been helping me train.”
Ah. You can’t help the face you make at that, and you’re thankful that Txeyto’s back is facing you so that he can’t see your expression. You also can’t help the way you cast a quick glance towards the entrance to the hut, as though worried that simply speaking the name aloud will summon Toruk Makto’s eldest son.
“Is that right?” You say, keeping your tone carefully neutral. “So, he’s the one that got you all scraped up like this?”
Txetyo’s shoulders flex under your hands, and you realise without looking at his face that you’ve stung his pride.
“I scraped him up also.” He grumbles, shifting to try and peer over his shoulder. “They are wounds to be proud of, as I got them in combat.”
You don’t think that a couple of minor scratches from wrestling around in the mud with one of the village’s biggest dickheads count as combat wounds, but you don’t argue. You just hum non-committedly, paying more attention to his bruises than is entirely necessary.
“You should be careful,” You say instead, running your fingers carefully over one of the bruises discolouring the pretty blue skin of his defined bicep. “It’s a shame to see these lovely muscles all bruised up.”
There’s a long moment’s pause. It seems as though the cogs in Txetyo’s head are working slowly, because he seems to be struggling to understand your flirty tone of voice. But when it finally seems to click, he turns his head to peer at you with wide, curious eyes.
“Ah,” He says, his shoulders squaring as he seems to preen. “You like them?”
God, he really is a little dumb. But that’s okay. You don’t necessarily need a man with brains.
“Mhmm,” You hum, allowing your hand to rest on the bulge of his bicep. “I like strong men.”
That’s true, if a little bit of an oversimplification. You’ve lived as a human on Pandora your whole life, but it was only in recent years since you’ve reached adulthood that you’ve started really paying attention to the people around you. And good lord, you had some impressive specimens to look at.
You find yourself drawn to their athletic and toned bodies, their radiant blue skin, their cat-like grace and agility. Maybe it’s because you had grown up on Pandora with no humans your age other than Spider, but you find yourself especially drawn to your size. The sheer size of their hands alone are enough to fluster you, especially when your brain is flooded with images of those big hands in other contexts.
And luckily for you, there’s no shortage of Na’vi that are interested in experimenting with humans, too.
Txetyo visibly perks up, his ears twitching forward as he finally seems to notice the way your much smaller hands are lingering on his body as you patch him up.
“I am very strong.” He says, tail thumping against the ground.
You fight the urge to sigh. He’ll never make a great conversationalist, but that’s alright. He’s big and strong and handsome, and you just want to relieve some tension.
“I know.” You murmur, your lips quirking a little as you shuffle around so that you’re kneeling in front of him, your knees pressed close to his thighs. “But I could still kiss your scratches better, if you’d like.”
Kissing wounds better is definitely a human colloquialism that Txetyo doesn’t understand, judging by the furrow of his brow, but he doesn’t seem to care. He reaches out and wraps a big hand around your waist, and you feel a pulse of arousal low in your belly in response.
“You like my muscles so much that treating my wounds has aroused you?” He asks, the smugness in his voice impossible to miss.
His pompousness is a little irritating, but you can ignore that because his hands are big and warm and it’s exciting to feel his palm start to push its way under your cotton tank top. The few Na’vi men you’ve been with before had been absolutely fascinated with the soft squishiness of your human breasts, so your breath hitches in anticipation as his hand reaches up to grope at your tits over your bra.
Okay, you can probably admit that you’re a little pent up. It’s probably a terrible idea to allow Txetyo to feel you up like this in the middle of the healing hut, but you’re horny.
If you’re telling the truth, you’ve been hoping for a chance like this all week – but there’s one thing, one irritation, that has been preventing you by interrupting every damn chance you’ve gotten alone with any man.
In fact, you’ve been interrupted so often and so many times that you’re almost expecting it, even as Txetyo’s big hands squeeze at your tits. He’s a little rough with it, but he’s so much bigger than you that you suppose that’s unavoidable – besides, his strength only adds to the thrill.
Then, just like clockwork, as though there’s some kind of sensor that goes off whenever you’re about to get some, there’s a rustling sound by the entrance of the hut before the little woven drape covering the doorway is pulled back.
And then, who else would be standing there, but Neteyam. One of the few people on the whole planet that can actually ruin your whole day just by showing his stupid face.
His eyes find you, but his expression doesn’t change as he glances over your flustered expression and the hand that Txetyo still has shoved up your top. He tilts his head, and it feels as though he’s examining every damn detail all at once; the ointment smeared all over Txetyo’s bruises from training, the way you’ve shuffled so close to Txetyo that you’re practically straddling his thigh, your unsteady breathing behind your mask.
“Ah. Am I interrupting?” He asks with a hint of wry humour to his voice, as though he hasn’t interrupted every attempt at getting laid you’ve made this month.
It has to be on purpose. That, or he has some sort of nearly supernatural sense for when you’re horny, because he always seems to show up every goddamned time. Somehow it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks, too. You’ve barely been able to get a moment alone with whoever you’ve been chatting up before Neteyam has appeared, snapping at them to get back to training or duties or whatever lousy excuse he’s been able to come up with in the moment.
“What do you want?” You snap, impatient and too strung tight to waste your energy on pretending at politeness.
A very delayed reaction finally hits Txetyo, and he scrambles to remove his hand from the inside of your top. His hand alone is so large that the outline of it is painfully obvious even through your shirt, and you close your eyes with a sigh as he clumsily pushes himself away from you in a rather ungainly attempt at pretending nothing was going on.
“Neteyam!” He blurts, his ears flattening against his skull. He’s clearly mortified at being caught in such a position by Toruk Makto’s son, and he overcompensates by attempting to scoot away as though he hadn’t even been touching you.
You try not to roll your eyes – you’re used to this, after all. You’ve been with several Na’vi men, but they all seem to have the same sort of embarrassment about actually being open with the fact that they’ve hooked up with you. You can’t be all that annoyed about it, you suppose. You understand where it’s coming from. You’ve been around the Omaticaya your whole life, and while the taboo of having Sky People around has faded somewhat, that doesn’t mean that anyone is actually willing to admit that they’ve been with you.
You’re used to it. It’s fine. You’re just a little mortified that Neteyam is currently witnessing the scramble for Txetyo to get away from you.
He’s watching the other man with his head still tilted to the side, his big golden eyes dark in the cool shade of the hut. A muscle in his jaw is flexing, like he’s trying not to laugh.
“I will- I will see you later?” Txetyo whispers to you as he stands. He probably intended for his voice to be low enough that it stayed between just you and him, but the hut is quiet enough that there’s no doubt Neteyam can hear him just fine.
“Mhm. Yeah.” You murmur back, watching Txetyo’s big broad back as he steps away from you, all hasty and flustered.
Txetyo gets as far as Neteyam, who’s still standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. Neteyam doesn’t so much as shift, his eyes dragging with lazy satisfaction over the myriad of scrapes and bruises that he had left on Txetyo during their sparring earlier.
Txetyo shifts on his feet, visibly nervous in the face of his future chief’s judgement. “Ah… Will we train again tomorrow, Neteyam?”
Neteyam hums non-committedly, before finally stepping away from the doorway. He brushes past Txetyo, and you wonder if he’s always so dismissive of his fellow warriors or if he’s just being an even bigger dickhead today for some reason.
“We will see.” Neteyam says shortly, though he’s not even looking Txetyo’s way.
Taking that as the dismissal it so clearly is, Txetyo nods awkwardly before disappearing out of the hut, leaving you and Neteyam alone.
For a long moment, you do your best to avoid looking up. You’re beyond irritated right now, made so much worse by the fact that your panties are kind of wet and you’re so fucking desperate for attention right now. The little wooden bowls knock together clumsily as you try to arrange them without looking up, but it becomes difficult when Neteyam lowers himself down to sit opposite you.
“The tsahìk’s hut is a bold place for such activities.” He says, and you don’t have to look up to know that there’s a stupid smug look on his face. “What would my grandmother think?”
As he sits down, he places a woven bag by your knee. You don’t need to look at it to know what it is; he’s always bringing stuff to the healing hut for his grandmother. Herbs or medicinal plants, fibres for weaving bandages, even animal bones that he had whittled down for needles for suturing.
Even you can grudgingly admit it’s thoughtful; but he only ever seems to bring it when you’re around. It’s like he just wants to rub it in your face that he excels at everything he does – it’s extremely annoying.
You finally look up, your face already scrunched in a scowl. “What do you want?”
He raises his hairless brows at you, an expression he no doubt learned from his father. “I would like my cuts from training treated. What else would I be here for?”
And now you know that he’s just messing with you, because while Txetyo was covered in bruises and abrasions from his tough training session earlier, Neteyam doesn’t have a single visible scratch.
“What exactly am I supposed to treat?” You ask, voice tight.
Neteyam shifts, proffering you his shoulder, and you see a single scrape along his otherwise flawless striped blue skin. You purse your lips, staring at it in mild disbelief.
“You can’t be serious.” You say, deadpan.
But it’s clear that Neteyam is serious, because he’s already stretching out on the comfy woven rugs of his grandmother’s hut as if he belongs there. It’s obvious that he has no intention of moving – he must have come here just to torture you.
You blow out a frustrated breath, the inside of your respirator mask fogging up briefly before rapidly clearing. Neteyam is infuriating. He gets under your skin in a way that no one else does, as though he knows every goddamn little button to press just to aggravate you.
Maybe it’s just a by-product of having been raised as next in line to lead the Omaticaya, or of being Toruk Makto’s oldest son, but you’ve always found Neteyam closed off and distant.
Truthfully, you can’t say for certain if he’s always been this way. When you were young teenagers, you hadn’t had much contact with him; he was always busy with his own training, and then the whole Sully family had left for Awa’atlu. When they had returned, several years later, Neteyam had been more reserved, and yet somehow even cockier and more confident than ever.
“I don’t understand you. There’s no need for you to get this scrape seen to, and you know it. You just like wasting my time.”
He just watches you as you complain, his eyes hooded and dark in a way that honestly leaves you a little heated. He doesn’t deny it, which only irritates you further. You knew he was just trying to annoy you!
“It’s your job to treat wounds when you’re here, isn’t it?” He asks, and you can see the way his tail is lazily undulating behind him, skimming across the woven carpet. He’s enjoying arguing with you.
You huff out a put-upon sigh, before grabbing two of the jars. The ointment is naturally antiseptic but it goes on with quite a sting; you try not to feel satisfied about that as you coat your fingers in it before dabbing it onto the scrape on Neteyam’s shoulder. You’re not as gentle as you’d usually be either, your patience is too thin for you to be considerate with him right now.
But this is not Txetyo. This is Neteyam, and he doesn’t so much as flinch as you rub the paste over his still sluggishly bleeding scratch, even though you know it must sting. You try not to feel irked by his stoicism.
As you work, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Problem?”
His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”
You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now.
The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.
In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you right before you got with someone. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by Neteyam, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.
In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was Jake Sully’s oldest son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.
You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job.
You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.
Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time away, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.
But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell.
He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.
God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.
Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.
You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.
“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.
You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”
There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.
“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”
Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment.
“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.
“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.
You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.
You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations.
Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.
Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.
You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.
“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.
You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.
“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.
Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.
Antsy and on edge, you lean forward and survey his strong back properly. When he's laying out in front of you like this you can see the way his back is knotted with tension and his shoulders are hiked up around his ears. It doesn't look too bad, but it can't be comfortable either.
You take one more moment to admire the musculature of his shoulders, before gathering yourself and dipping your fingers into the ointment. It's balmy against your fingers and smells a little bit like blueberries, and begins to tingle when your hand is entirely coated.
"Where does it hurt most?" You ask, your voice quiet.
In the silence, you can hear Neteyam’s throat click when he swallows.
"My neck and shoulders." When he speaks, his voice is a little deeper than expected.
The very first touch to Neteyam’s back pulls a quiet sigh out of him; it sounds like relief.
Considering his size, it takes surprisingly little to have him melting under your hands. Your fingers spread under his scapula, finding a knot in the muscle and pressing in hard. It takes a bit of finagling, but after some firm pressure you feel the muscle begin to soften beneath your touch.
Gaining confidence, you return your kneading fingers to his neck. He really is terribly tense, and shivering spasms flit up and down the muscles of his back in regular intervals as you drag the warm palms of your hands over him. As your fingers work into his tense muscles, he lets out quiet little grunts that are muffled by the cradle of his arms.
“Why were you so hard on Txetyo during training?” You ask as your fingers dig into the tense tissue of his back. Your voice is unintentionally loud in the quiet of the hut. “He looked as though he had been attacked by a thanator when he was here earlier.”
Neteyam just grunts. “Txetyo is an overconfident skxawng. He is not nearly as skilled as he thinks he is.”
You click your tongue, dissatisfied with that answer. “I could say the same about you.”
Just like all your attempts to insult him, your words seem to bounce right off him. Stupid thick-skinned bastard. His pretty mouth tilts up in a smile.
“I have the skills to back it up, paskalin.”
Your lips purse at the name, your cheeks hot. God, he’s such an asshole.
When you exert pressure as you run your fingers down his spine, Neteyam grunts softly into his arms. The sound is startling in the quiet, interrupting the steady rhythm of your quiet breathing.
"Does that hurt?" You ask. Your voice comes out a little shakier than you’d like.
"No." Neteyam’s voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble. The sound of it almost startles you into snatching your hands away, but you manage to refrain yourself. "Keep going."
You just swallow thickly, and try to keep yourself on task. “He just wants to be better. He was excited to train with you–”
“Lower.” Neteyam groans, shifting under your hands.
You clench your teeth. Really, you should probably just walk away from him. There’s no real need for you to be doing any of this. He’s not even injured, and who knows whether he’s telling the truth about his back being tense.
But you’re stupid, and you’ve never been good at walking away, from either fighting or fucking. This strange encounter feels as though it lies somewhere in the middle of those two things. Your palms drag down to his lower back, and he flinches briefly before melting under your touch.
His body is so big that it’s difficult to get a good angle to knead properly at his tense muscles, and before you can think too hard about it you swing your leg over his hips. You settle back, perching your weight cautiously at the base of his spine.
It's a braver move than you would usually make, but you try not to second-guess yourself — like this, you have so much more leverage to rub at the rigid sinews of his back. You drag your knuckles down the length of his spine and he groans into the cradle of his arms.
You try to ignore the excited flutter in your belly. It’s just Neteyam. You’re not actually getting turned on from this; the only reason you’re so affected is because you had been horny with Txetyo. You shift where you’re sitting on his back, but you have to force yourself still almost immediately, because the friction nearly makes your lungs seize.
“Comfortable?” Neteyam murmurs, and you can hear amusement in his voice.
“Shut up.” You say reflexively, before scowling. “I can’t believe you interrupted me and Txetyo just for this. You have, like, one bruise–”
“It’s a very sore bruise.” He murmurs lazily, sounding unbothered. “Do you think squeezing your tits might help? That seemed to help Txetyo feel better.”
You pause, jaw dropping in indignation. “I– shut up!”
Neteyam makes a noise that sounds like a snicker, and you dig your fingers down the planes of his back vengefully. His waist narrows into an elegant taper, and when you reach the part of his back where his ass begins to swell, you exert firm pressure against the base of his tail.
If you had done it to a human, you know it would have hurt. But instead the tightness of the muscle unfurls under your fingers, and Neteyam gives a long, low groan. The sound is delightfully gravelly, and you take a breath as you feel molten heat ooze down into your belly and settle between your legs. It’s not a reaction you had been expecting.
You sit back onto his lower back, avoiding his tail. From here, you have a truly captivating view of how slick his back looks from the ointment, and how his skin glows in the dim light of the hut. His body really is perfect, and your eyes track over the taut shiny scars that litter his skin.
“Mmm. May I get up? Or do you want to sit on me a little while longer?” Neteyam’s low voice breaks you out of your stupor, and you’re horrified to find that you’ve just been sitting there with your wet panties pressed against his back beneath your thin shorts.
You scramble off him quickly, flustered and clumsy. It had been a bold move to straddle him in the first place, and now you feel very stupid about it.
“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You blurt, just to say something into the silence.
“Why are we still talking about Txetyo?” Neteyam has always been a relatively tolerant and even-keeled man, but you can hear irritation beginning to bubble up in his voice.
“Because–” You start to say, but then Neteyam rolls over so that he’s laying on his back.
Now that he's lying on his back, stretched out all long and lithe, your eyes rove over his face and then down his throat, his chest, his stomach, his hips. Your eyes catch on the protrusion between his legs and stick there, your mouth dropping open in surprise when you see that his loincloth is tented.
“Because- he… you were too–” You try valiantly to finish your sentence, but your thoughts have scattered to the wind.
He’s hard. Why the fuck is he hard? Is that just from you rubbing his back? Oh my god, what are you supposed to say? It feels like his hard-on is staring at you.
Neteyam pushes himself up into a sitting position, his hands planted on the woven rug behind him as he pushes himself up so that he’s sitting looming over you. Once he’s upright, Neteyam flexes his shoulders and groans slightly as he goes. It doesn't sound like a pained groan, thankfully.
The movement brings him closer to you than you had been expecting, and you end up freezing. Like this, you can see the way his expression has smoothed into one of relief. His shoulders are looser too, no longer held bunched up around his neck.
Neteyam doesn't seem to notice your close proximity, nor the way you have tensed at the lack of space between them. You’re not touching, but you’re so close that you swear you can physically feel the air between you.
“If Txetyo is so upset about being beaten by me in training, then he should focus on getting better instead of slinking away with his tail between his legs and trying to screw you in a corner of my grandmother’s hut.”
You gape at him like an absolute idiot, floored by the acerbity in his tone. You’ve always thought Neteyam was a bit of a dickhead, but that was mostly because of his nearly insufferable need to always be the best. Always the best warrior, the best son, the best brother, the best future Olo’eyktan. The best role model to his peers.
“So that’s what this is about.” You say, your voice coming out distinctly accusatory. “You don’t like that your friends are fucking a human, is that it?”
Neteyam doesn’t even bother answering. He just rolls his now loosened shoulders and watches you carefully. He doesn't tell you to back off, or wrinkle his nose at you, or act as though he's repulsed by you. He just stares at you across the miniscule space between you, and that only angers you further.
“Is that why you keep interrupting whenever I’m with any of the other tsamsiyu?” You demand, fists clenching. “What, you don’t like that your friends find a tawtute attractive? Is that why you keep cockblocking me?”
Neteyam huffs a quiet snort, as though he thinks you’re being stupid.
“I hear what some of the Na’vi in the village say, about how it’s shameful to be with a tawtute.” You hiss. “I just didn’t think you’d be one of them.”
And if you’re honest with yourself, it sort of hurts. Neteyam has always gotten on your nerves with his confusing mix of overconfidence and jagged insecurities, and he had really infuriated you when he had started to interrupt all of those illicit little meetups you had planned with some of the boys in the village, but you hadn’t actually thought that he had any disdain for you like some of the other Na’vi.
And then you do something so stupid that it shocks even you.
Your eyes drop back down to the tent in his tewng, eyeing it thoughtfully, before reaching out and running your fingers over the hardened outline of his cock through the fabric with purpose.
Neteyam hisses, and his hips actually lift off the floor in an attempt to follow your touch.
“God, you’re a hypocrite, aren’t you?” You breathe, fighting to keep your voice casual. “How can you judge your friends for fucking around with me when you’re this hard after just a backrub?”
“They’re not my friends.” Neteyam grunts, his jaw clenching as his head tilts back. His hips rock into your hand.
Your touch goes firmer, and then your hand slips under his loincloth. You’ve had plenty of sexual encounters with Na’vi men, but this is different.
This is Neteyam. This encounter feels like proving a point. A very sexually charged point.
His cock is silky smooth and hot to the touch, and you feel a little drunk as your fingers close around it. And damn, it feels big. All Na’vi cocks are big compared to your hands, but this… feels different. You were aroused anyway, you’ve been feeling pent up all damn week, but now that your hand is on his dick your nerves are fizzing up.
It’s a surprise when Neteyam’s big hand settles on your waist to tug you closer, and you feel your stomach swoop when he pulls you forward. You don’t release his cock even as he pulls you to settle over one of his thighs, your legs slotted in between his, and you can feel him harden even further beneath you.
You wonder absently if it's really you that's causing his very obvious arousal or if it's just a natural consequence of the massage; either way, when his hips flex up towards you, they press right in between your legs.
You shiver almost violently, the sensation of him pressing hot and hard against your core frying your nerves and wiping your thoughts clean. The part of your brain that had been screaming about what a bad idea this whole thing is has become muffled now, and your own hips jerk against his.
“You’re such an asshole,” You say, though your voice comes out reedy and breathless. “You of all people don’t have a right to talk shit about those guys just cause they’re into humans, especially when your cock is this hard, and especially considering where your dad came from–”
He lets out a soft, quiet noise as you move against him, and uses his grip on the back of your top to pull you tighter against him yet again. “Don’t talk about my father when you have my cock in your hand.”
It takes what feels like a monumental effort to wrench your hand away from him, and he lets out a wordless grunt of dissatisfaction as his hips twitch in an effort to follow your hand. It’s delightfully pathetic, and you feel your ego swell at the sheer sense of power that washes over you; it’s a rare feeling, especially when you’re faced with a big blue alien almost twice your size.
“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You sound like an out of breath idiot. “It’s not like you can judge him for being with a tawtute when you’re that hard from me just touching you.”
Neteyam just stares at you, his jaw clenching and his honey eyes dark as he takes several breaths through his nose. You’ve never seen him like this before; you’ve never seen any of the men you’ve been with like this before. It looks as though he’s holding onto a thin veneer of control, and you wonder if he’s angry with you, if you’ve perhaps pushed him too far.
“That was never the issue.” He says and fuck, his voice has gone so gravelly. “And don’t pretend that you’re not wet beneath those clothes of yours. I can smell it.”
Your thighs squeeze together as you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your aura of indifference and no doubt failing.
“That’s because of Txetyo.” You say, and it tastes like a lie on your tongue. “You interrupted us.”
Neteyam laughs quietly and humourlessly. His expression suggests that he doesn’t find anything about this conversation funny, and his hand is still splayed across your back. You’re so damn conscious of how big his palm is as it spreads across your spine. Why the hell hasn’t he let go of you yet?
“Ah, I see.” Neteyam murmurs. “You would have fucked him in my grandmother’s hut?”
Your mouth is so damn dry, and you swallow compulsively. “It’s not any of your business who I fuck.”
Neteyam’s smile is grim. “Txetyo would fuck his own shadow if he were nimble enough to catch it. You have terrible taste in men.”
You rear back. You’re surprised by how much that hurts. Living as a human on Pandora is lonely, and it’s not like you have people lining up outside the human outpost looking to spend time with you. If you want any sort of companionship or intimacy, you have to accept any attention that you can get. And sure, most of that attention comes from men that only want to get their dicks wet, or the experience of being with a tawtute, but it’s better than nothing at all.
“Well, we can’t all be the Olo’eyktan’s son.” You say, your voice stiff and cold. “We don’t all have countless suitors throwing themselves at our feet. Some of us have to accept attention from whoever’s interested.”
Neteyam’s expression shifts, an odd look appearing in his eyes, and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you could bear to see pity in his eyes, so you pull away from him, shaking his hands off.
“Your scratch is fine.” You say, your voice thin and a little thready. “You’re all treated.
“Hey–”
As you stumble to your feet, Neteyam reaches out as if to stop you. You dodge his hands, unable to look him in the eye.
Panic is starting to set in now; what had you been thinking, touching him like that just after he had chided you for flirting with Txetyo in the tsahìk’s hut? God, you feel like such an idiot. He must think you’re so pathetic.
Like a coward, you turn on your heel and flee out of the hut. You need air, you need to be out of the cool darkness of the hut, you need to be away from the overwhelming weight of Neteyam’s presence. Through the blood rushing in your ears you can distantly hear Neteyam call to you, but you’re too desperate to escape from the whole humiliating interaction to stop and listen.
You stagger out of the hut, squinting at the evening light; it seems blinding after spending all day in the dim musty air of Mo’at’s healing hut. You pat at your rumpled shirt and creased denim shorts, flustered and frenzied as you try to straighten yourself out.
“Tawtute?”
You jerk, gasping, and whirl to find that Txetyo is sitting on a log a few feet away from the hut, apparently waiting for you to finish up with Neteyam. You feel like you’re burning up from a mixture of mortification and confused arousal and you’re certain that Neteyam is about to follow you out.
“I– I have to go!” You blurt, already stepping back towards the forest.
Txetyo frowns, obviously bewildered, but he doesn’t stand. “Don’t you want to–”
You don’t wait for him to finish. You’re already fleeing, disappearing into the trees as you run the whole way home.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
It might be a little cowardly, but you avoid the village for days after that.
You stick to the outpost, watching Norm and Max and the other scientists work. You try not to die of boredom, and you try not to overthink and overthink and overthink.
But you have too much time on your hands as you slink around the outpost, and you can’t stop feeling guilty about abandoning your attempts to help Mo’at out in her healing hut.
You also can’t stop thinking about the shift of Neteyam’s muscles in the low dim light, or the silky hot feel of his cock in your hand, or the soft breathy grunts he had let out as his hips rocked. It feels like the experience has actually rewired your brain, as though you’ll never recover from it.
Growing up on Pandora as a human has been lonely. The only other human your age is Spider, who had become the closest thing you have to a brother – and you love him even when you feel like throttling him, but sometimes you just yearn for more.
You want companionship, you want understanding, you want romance, you want sexual intimacy. You don’t think it’s too much to ask for, and if you have to turn to big nine-feet-tall Na’vi warriors who just want to say they’ve had the experience of sleeping with a tawtute, then that’s… fine. Even if it’s only temporary.
Part of you is honestly relieved when Spider finally manages to force you out of the outpost and back to the village. It’s a relief to get back into the forest, to the village, to the life you’re used to. The outpost has nothing on the vibrancy of the village life, and you feel as though you can breathe for the first time in days upon stepping back into the village, even if it’s through your respirator mask.
There’s been a big hunt today, and the village is buzzing with excitement. You pass by several willowy Na’vi covered in celebratory paint, and follow the sound of the heavy thumping of drums.
The evening after a hunt is always a joyful affair, and you gradually start to relax throughout the night. You feast on collected fruit, hum along to some of the music, and sit comfortably with Spider all evening. At some point you’re joined by Lo’ak, which you don’t mind either; Lo’ak has always been the kind of outcast that fits comfortably between the edges of you and Spider. Those edges have smoothed out as he got older, but he’s always been a cool guy to hang out with.
When he’s not joining Spider in ganging up on you, that is.
“So– so wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Lo’ak is waving his hands as though trying to settle down a group of rowdy children, even though it’s just the three of you present. “Neteyam walked in on you fucking again, but this time it was in grandmother’s hut–”
You’re sat around the large campfire in the middle of the village, tucked away from the main celebrations. Part of you is flourishing being in this environment again, but another part is withering at this damn conversation. You glance around nervously, hoping that no casual observers can hear you guys talking.
“Txetyo only had his hand up my top!” You hiss hastily. “We weren’t actually– and we would have gone somewhere else when it came down to it!”
“Txetyo is a dickhead.” Spider complains, leaning heavily on your side. He’s so frequently dwarfed by the Na’vi that it’s easy to forget that he’s over six-feet-tall and corded with muscle, and his bulk is heavy.
Irritatingly, Lo’ak leans into you the same way on the other side, though he’s more careful about leaning his full weight, and you end up crushed in between the two idiots.
“He isn’t.” You protest, pushing back against their weight. “He’s–”
“Nah, he is.” Lo’ak interrupts before you can defend him. “Total skxawng. You know he keeps telling people he’s the best archer in the clan? And yet he didn’t manage to catch anything in today’s hunt–”
You try not to wince at that. It’s impossible to miss that while Txetyo may not have been successful in the hunt today, someone else is being lauded for their skill and success.
Neteyam has been given a place of honour by the fire next to his parents, and the careful swirls of paint all over his body can’t hide the proud glow on his face. Under the smooth veneer of Neteyam’s smiles and cheer was the jagged edge of his inferiority complex, his need to always be better and to be liked. Funnily enough, his insecurity has always been your favourite part of him. It felt real in a way his cockiness didn’t.
You can’t stop yourself from glancing over. Night has already fallen and there are many couples dancing, the flickering firelight sending wild shadows across the gathering. But even in the unsteady light, you catch the intense golden stare of Neteyam watching you from across the circle.
You hastily turn your face away, pressing your lips together tight as you try to pretend like you hadn’t been looking in the first place.
“–He’s better than Art’alak, at least.” Spider says, continuing on the conversation that you had checked out of for a few moments. “That guy was awful. I mean, what did you even see in him?”
You roll your eyes, sinking further back into the stupidly heavy weight of Spider and Lo’ak in a silly attempt to hide yourself from view. It almost definitely doesn’t work, and you can still feel the weight of Neteyam’s stare on you, even as you fixedly ignore him.
“Pretty sure we don’t want the answer to that one, man.” Lo’ak says, snickering.
His eyes glance around, before flashing across the gathering as though he can also feel Neteyam’s attention. You frown as Lo’ak hastily removes his arm from around your shoulders, even leaning away from you a little.
“I’m allowed to want company.” You say loftily, though you’re certain that your voice is a little shaky.
It feels like your skin is heating up under Neteyam’s eyes, and you feel yourself getting shifty. Why won’t he just look away?
Lo’ak obviously notices his brother’s attention, because he leans a little closer so he can speak quietly in your ear.
“My brother can be unbearable,” Lo’ak murmurs, “But he’s not a bad guy.”
“Gross.” You wrinkle your nose playfully at Lo’ak’s rare display of sincerity about his brother and he hisses at you, swiping at your head.
It’s all in jest, which is obvious given how gentle his hands are with you, and you laugh and lean away.
“I just– I don’t understand him.” You sigh once your laughter has tapered off. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t approve of the whole interspecies thing, but it’s like he goes out of his way to catch me in embarrassing situations. If he finds it gross, why seek it out?”
Lo’ak purses his lips and avoids your eyes. “Uh…”
“Anytime he shows up, the guys I’m with go running.” You continue, your brows knitting into a frown. “I mean, it’s getting ridiculous. Why can’t he just mind his own business?”
Lo’ak’s eyes dart over your head, and you just know that he and Spider are sharing a look together.
“He doesn’t– I wouldn’t say he disapproves of interspecies relationships–” Lo’ak says, but he fumbles a little in his attempt to get his words out and darts another panicked glance across the fire towards where Neteyam is sitting with their father.
You just scoff, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You feel a little vulnerable talking about this; usually, you’re content to suffer through the embarrassment of having your sex partners pretending they don’t know you in public alone, but since Neteyam had started walking in on you, now he knows that they’re doing it too.
“He scolds them like they’re children whenever he walks in on us, talking about how they’re neglecting their duties and all that,” You mutter, scowling. “But it’s obviously because he’s annoyed that his friends are messing around with a Sky Person.”
Spider shifts at your side, making an odd sound beneath his breath. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring rather fixedly at a tree branch overhead. Lo’ak clears his throat, similarly looking off to the side to avoid your eyes.
You frown. It feels as though they’re hiding something from you, and the thought is unsettling.
“What?” You demand, sitting forward and staring intently at them.
“Nothing,” Lo’ak protests, but his voice is a little too high-pitched to be believable. “Uh… It’s just… well, I really don’t think that Neteyam has a problem with interspecies relationships. Our dad came from the Sky, too!”
You think that Lo’ak probably intended for that to be reassuring, but instead you find your stomach sinking miserably.
“Oh.” You say, pursing your lips. “So it’s me that he has a problem with.”
“No!” Lo’ak protests, but then he pauses. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to form a response under the weight of your narrowed eyes.
When no explanation comes, you end up just averting your gaze and looking towards the fire. It’s stupid, but you’re not sure what you were even expecting. Neteyam has always been perfect in his personal life, his duties, his relationships within the clan, his looks. It’s hardly a surprise that he’s developed a distaste for you – you know what Sky People represent to the Na’vi, after all.
Across the gathering, two Na’vi girls are shooting looks at Spider. You almost think they’re looking at him in disgust, but when Spider catches their eye and smiles back they both look away giggling.
You click your tongue and roll your eyes. You wonder when exactly it was that the Na’vi your age stopped seeing you as human nuisances that haunt the village, and started instead seeing you as people with possible sexual appeal.
“That is just unfair.” You intone dully. “You get Na’vi girls flirting with you from across the campfire, and I get Na’vi boys fucking me in corners and then pretending they don’t know me. And that’s only if I don’t get rudely interrupted by Lo’ak’s asshole brother.”
“Men.” Lo’ak says in a disparaging tone that sounds as though it’s meant to be sympathetic, but it falls short as he’s biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”
Spider laughs too, though he’s still looking in the Na’vi girls’ direction. There’s a pink flush in his cheeks, and his smile looks distinctly pleased.
“Yeah,” You grumble, sinking down where you’re sitting. “I’m hearing that a lot.”
The conversation moves on then, Lo’ak nudging at Spider over your head and grinning as he recounts the highlights from the hunt earlier that day, but you’re distracted. You hardly even hear a word they say, too busy staring broodingly into the fire.
Luckily, neither Lo’ak nor Spider mind your silence. They’re perfectly content to fill the quiet themselves, chatting and babbling and joking over your head.
You’re drifting, lost in your own thoughts until you hear Lo’ak and Spider go quiet. You glance over to them, only to realise why they’ve stopped talking – Neteyam is walking your way.
You stiffen, eyes narrowing behind your respirator mask as he comes to a stop before you all. He greets his brother and Spider briefly, distractedly, before his big amber eyes settle on you.
All you can do is wait, tensed. You have no idea what he’s going to do or say, but if he says something about that day in the healing hut you might actually scream.
But Neteyam doesn’t immediately say anything. He crouches in front of you, his gaze as measured and even as ever, and proffers a wrapped utumauti leaf to you. For a moment, you just stare at it as though it’s something venomous.
“A portion of yerik meat,” Neteyam clarifies, not even blinking as he watches your face. “From the hunt earlier.”
Oh. Now you see. He’s just showing off, like he always does. He’s always doing things like this, just to show off his skills, his prowess, how strong he is. It’s irritating; everyone already knows how great he is, and he’s already practically revered throughout the village. You don’t know why he keeps trying to flaunt his greatness in front of you, other than the fact that he must love to annoy you.
Spider nudges you in the side, and you reach out to take the wrapped meat from Neteyam’s outstretched hand.
“Thank you.” You say, a little tersely.
Neteyam just nods, his tail coiling. He watches your face for another moment, and all the unspoken tension between you from the other day seems to swell to unbearable heights. His ears twitch, and then he glances over his shoulder to where his parents are sitting by the fire. They’re watching, which makes you feel itchy and embarrassed.
“I should return.” He says simply, before standing and nodding at you, then Spider and Lo’ak, before straightening up and walking back to his place by Jake, his tail swaying low.
There’s a long moment of silence, where you can feel Lo’ak and Spider staring at you.
“Don’t.” You say sharply when you see Lo’ak’s mouth open, and he closes it with a click.
This feels embarrassing, as though Neteyam is mocking you somehow. It’s not the first time he’s given you food, always making sure to let you know he caught it himself. It’s like he has a damn pathological need to show off his skills, to try and prove himself, to prove that he’s better than anyone else. It’s aggravating, even more so now that Lo’ak has made it clear that it’s you that Neteyam has a problem with.
Eventually, Spider and Lo’ak return to their conversation and you pull back, sitting silently between them. You pull your mask off for a brief moment to nibble at the meat. You’re a little irritated to admit that it’s delicious, and you sit back to lean into Spider’s side as you chew at it sullenly.
You’ve just begun to wonder if this night is a total bust altogether when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. You raise your head, surprised to see the sight of Txetyo stepping towards you.
At your side, Spider and Lo’ak share a look before sitting up straighter.
“Tawtute,” Txetyo greets, nodding his head at you. He casts a single cautious look towards Lo’ak, before focusing on you properly.
He is keeping his voice purposely low so that no one else can hear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. This is the most public setting that any man has ever actually approached you in, and you can feel your expression brightening already.
“Hello.” You murmur, smiling sweetly at him. The last time you had seen him had been right after you had fled the tsahik’s hut, right after you had touched Neteyam– and no, you are not thinking about that right now.
“I would like to speak with you.” Txetyo murmurs, his voice low as he darts one more quick look between Lo’ak and Spider before settling on you again.
You brighten. You’re under no illusions about what Txetyo wants to ‘speak’ about, and you can safely assume that there will be little to no talking involved at all.
Yes. A distraction. This is exactly what you need.
“Sure.” You say, your lips curving up in a coy smile as you unfold yourself from where you’ve been sitting between Spider and Lo’ak.
“Uh–” Lo’ak starts to say, but you’re already beginning to step away with Txetyo, who’s beginning to lead you away from the gathering.
Maybe it’s a little impulsive, but you’re feeling reckless tonight. You can still feel Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back as you follow Txetyo towards the treeline, but you determinedly refuse to look. The celebration should be enough of a distraction to keep him busy and away from you for a while so you can finally get laid.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
You resist the urge to check the time on your battered old wristwatch as Txetyo slides down your body and repositions himself between your legs.
It feels like such a long time since you’ve hooked up successfully with anyone, with no interruptions, which is probably why you’ve been so affected by all-things-Neteyam recently. You were hoping that this encounter with Txetyo would restore you back to normal, to get rid of all the thoughts of Neteyam’s intense golden stare and pretty face and silken hot cock that are absolutely haunting you.
Yet, so far, the night’s been less than stellar. Txetyo had led you away from the celebrations, and you had to try hard to pretend like you don’t see him looking around compulsively to make sure that no one else has seen him leave with you. You had followed him into the trees, and had brightened up when he took your hand as soon as you were out of sight of the gathering.
Before you knew it, you were on your back on the forest floor with your panties around your ankles and your dress rucked up around your waist as Txetyo loomed over you on his hands and knees.
Txetyo is handsome, and he’s big and strong and he’s not opposed to hooking up with a Sky Person, but he’s not much for conversation and it seems like he’s only really got one thing on his mind. Apparently, your list of criteria might be a little lacking, because Txetyo’s also proving to be woefully bad at sex.
He spreads your legs and buries his face there. You blink at the canopy of glowing foliage overhead, grimacing. Honestly, you’d think that anything tongue-adjacent would feel good against a clit, but that’s just not true. Txetyo seems to have an affinity for moving his tongue rapidly and aimlessly against you, resulting in nothing better than the occasional teasing — definitely by accident.
You shift a little, try to angle your hips so that Txetyo’s mouth is over your clit, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’re attempting to do at all. He just moves his mouth away, jabbing his tongue sort of aimlessly at your left labia.
“Could you– a bit higher–” You say, trying to shift again.
Txetyo’s mouth is rather sloppy against your pussy, but you’re not actually sure what he’s doing down there. He seems to be missing every possible nerve ending that might feel good, which is actually a little bit impressive.
You sigh, and just resign yourself to getting bad head. You let your head thunk back against the mossy forest floor, your legs hanging off of Txetyo’s big shoulders as he hunches between your thighs.
It’s almost imperceptible, but the quiet ‘crack’ of a twig breaking underfoot has your head snapping around in a panic.
Though night has fallen, it’s never truly dark on Pandora. The moss beneath you glows faintly, illuminating the outline of your body as you lay there with Txetyo getting busy between your legs. The trees and foliage around you are similarly phosphorescent, your surroundings all lit up in luminous vibrance.
Pandora’s bioluminescence is beautiful; it also means that you can see Neteyam’s figure all dimly lit up as he leans against the trunk of a tree about fifteen feet away.
Neteyam’s head is cocked to the side as he very obviously takes in the scene before him, his head turning to scan up and down your body. His little luminous freckles are lit up and glowing, and it’s impossible to miss the fact that his golden eyes are fixed on you, so intense that it’s almost breathtaking.
You almost scream. You mean to, but instead you moan, completely by accident, and Txetyo groans between your legs.
You don’t know what to do. You’re gaping at Neteyam, who seems all too content to just watch you, meanwhile Txetyo is totally oblivious. He’s still doing nothing right, but something deep inside you pulses.
Moments later, much to your horror, Neteyam takes a small, tentative step forward. He stands only a few feet away, behind Txetyo and in plain view of you.
Go away! You mouth, staring at him in disbelief.
Neteyam scratches his head, feigning confusion, and then he takes another step forward.
He doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? It’s not the first time he’s walked in on you in a situation like this, but usually by this point he’s started making snarky comments, which in turn makes the men you’re with scramble away from you like you’re diseased.
Your dress is pushed up clumsily around your stomach, exposing your pussy. There’s a man between your legs. You’re in the process of getting fucked and Neteyam is watching, goddammit.
It definitely, absolutely is not hot. And yet… your hips twitch, and your breath hitches.
“That feel good?” Txetyo asks, peering up to grin at you. Your attention is dragged back to him and you blink, dazed.
“Yeah,” You lie. “So good.”
“Mm,” Txetyo hums in satisfaction, slipping two fingers into you. “Good.”
You grunt at the stretch of his thick fingers, breathing deep. His mouth returns, his fingers jabbing kind of aimlessly, but it hardly matters. Your attention is locked on Neteyam, and it’s somehow making Txetyo’s useless attempts feel somewhat invigorating.
“Oh god,” You gasp. You’re so confused. Part of you is still waiting for Neteyam to speak up, to make a sound or to clear his throat. Something. But he just watches on, his pretty eyes dark.
“Mm, so pretty,” Txetyo murmurs from between your legs, still blissfully unaware of your onlooker. “Can I fuck you now, tawtute?”
Despite yourself, you find your eyes darting over to Neteyam. The stupid fucker is still looking, and when he sees that you’ve looked at him his lips quirk. Your whole body flushes deep with heat, and you try to pretend like you aren’t taking direction from him; usually, his appearance would have stopped this entire encounter dead in its tracks. But you’re continuing, and the fact is, you feel as though you need his permission or something.
“Y-yes.” You say.
Neteyam purses his lips, and raises his non-existent brows. Fuck, what does that mean?
“How would you like me to–”
“Just like this.” You blurt. It feels, for some reason, as though you can’t risk Txetyo noticing Neteyam. This is the only way you can see Neteyam without Txetyo noticing him, anyway.
Txetyo shuffles up your body, his bulk dwarfing you. There’s a moment’s struggle as he’s lining himself up against your pussy, groaning low as he pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and a little painful, as always; you never quite get used to the bone-deep satisfaction of that achey biting stretch in your cunt.
The stretch is satisfying, like it always is, but it’s not necessarily special. Txetyo is not as evenly proportioned as he looks, and his cock is smaller than other Na’vi you’ve been with. That is, mostly, a good thing; it means he can fuck you without lube, which you usually have to use to accommodate the shocking stretch of taking a Na’vi cock. It also means that you adjust to having him inside you a little quicker, your muscles easing gradually around the intrusion of his dick.
What is special (or at least unusual) is the fact that Neteyam is still watching. You stare back, maintaining a bewilderingly intense sort of eye contact. Txetyo groans as your cunt clenches down on him, and he lowers his face to bury it in your shoulder; like this, your view of Neteyam is completely unimpeded.
“Ah! You’re so tight,” Txetyo hisses. “This is okay?”
“Yes,” You gasp. “You can move.”
And by God, does Txetyo move. He jerks in and out of you with a complete lack of coordination. You bounce and flop against the luminescent bed of moss beneath you, occasionally throwing a hand over your head to try and anchor yourself to a tree root behind you, just to stay put for a second or two.
Neteyam is undoubtedly amused. He has a hand pressed to his mouth, and the skin around his eyes is scrunched up with mirth. At one point, when Txetyo starts humping into you so desperately that you grunt, wincing, Neteyam doubles over himself completely, laughing silently.
“Oh, oh,” Txetyo groans. “Tawtute, I am going to– you are so tight, so hot inside–"
You smack one of Txetyo’s hands away from where he’d been rubbing determinedly at the side of your vulva. You rub at your clit instead in fast, harsh circles, staring at Neteyam desperately. You don’t actually know what you’re looking for, or what you want him to do… but you want him to do something.
Neteyam reaches down to palm the bulge at the front of his tewng that you hadn’t even noticed until now, and you moan. You rub yourself even faster, attempting to angle your hips in any way that could increase your pleasure from Txetyo. It seems impossible, but you manage to catch one or two good strokes.
“Please, please—!” You gasp, eyes wide as you maintain eye contact with Neteyam over the wide bulk of Txetyo’s shoulders.
Neyeyam moans. It’s low, barely noticeable under Txetyo’s own strangled sounds, but you hear it clearly. Your body seizes up and then you’re coming, gasping high and quick as you drink Neteyam in with your eyes, frozen under Neteyam’s gaze in turn.
“Unnng,” Txetyo grunts as he comes too, thrusting into you through the last shocks of his orgasm.
You barely even blink, your eyes fixed wide open as you tremble, your breaths shaky. Neteyam doesn’t break eye contact either, watching you so damn closely that it feels bizarrely as though he’s watching a show you’re putting on, as though all of this is for him. The worst part is you feel as though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.
Neteyam silently turns and slips away through the foliage, and Txetyo flops onto the mossy ground beside you moments later, breathing heavily.
“That was good.” Txetyo sighs, his voice thick with satisfaction.
You don’t reply, still staring at the place Neteyam had disappeared into the trees. You’re partly unable to believe what just happened and partly turned on beyond belief, just knowing it did.
What the fuck?
4K notes · View notes
theoreticslut · 2 years
Text
「 jealousy, jealously 」
eddie munson x henderson!fem reader
summary: you were a part of hellfire long before your brother and his friends got to high school, yet they fit right into the club while you get pushed aside. 
requested: no
word count: 6.4k
warnings: light angst, jealousy, brief arguing/raised voices, lots of fluff, kissing, fake gagging, few curse words
a/n: i apparently can’t write short fics for eddie, but i don’t think anyone is complaining about it. plus, i think the fics are freaking adorable & i’m highkey kinda proud of them. so i hope you continue enjoying them, as i’ve got plenty of ideas for him with more coming daily. if you’ve got an idea you’d like done (for eddie or any other st character) feel free to send it my way & i’ll give it a go. also, i couldn’t think of a better title than this, but the actual fic has no purposeful inpsiration from the olivia rodrigo song. i hope you enjoy it regardless! Xx
Part 2 out now!
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You groan as you see your brother and his friends make their way through the cafeteria towards you. Knowing it was their first day of high school, you had no doubt they’d try to sit with you. It’s not that you don’t want them to, but you’re terrified that they’ll embarrass you in front of your long-standing crush and dungeon master.
It had been a few months into your freshman year of high school when the small group of friends you’d found yourself in started ranting about how weird and creepy the Hellfire club - and their leader, Eddie Munson - was. You didn’t quite hold the same opinions, though, since you’d been playing the game for a few years by then. In fact, you had only recently given it up when the friend you played with moved towns.
It was during one of your free periods when their ranting became a bit annoying to you. You had started correcting and fact-checking them, forgetting that Eddie shared the study hall with you. You never even gave it a thought that he could hear the four of you talking until he stopped you at your locker after that period - the day, luckily, being over.
He wanted to know how you knew so much about the game which is when you admitted you had played. Of course that knowledge completely floored him. 
When he was able to pull himself back together, though, he offered for you to join them at lunch the following day to meet the group and see if you wanted to become their newest member. You agreed, and within the week found yourself a permanent part of hellfire with your own shirt and everything.
It’s been two and a half years since then and you were still a part of the group, happily devoting your Thursday evenings to play the game. Within these past couple years and all the Thursdays you’ve spent in his presence, though, you found yourself falling hard for Eddie.
It’s nearly impossible not to when he’s so charismatic and funny. Not to mention how kind, passionate, and beautiful he is. You’d swear he was a fucking angel, regardless of the image he tries to portray.
“Y/n! Can we sit here with you? Please?” You hear your brother almost beg, catching your attention as your heart starts to race.
You’ve never mentioned to the group that you have a younger brother, especially not a younger brother that also plays D&D. You knew they’d want to be introduced to him, and you fear that he'd slowly come to replace you in the group.
“Who’re these kids?” Eddie questions, hands clasped in front of his face as he looks between you and the three younger boys standing behind you.
“Uh, Dustin, here, is my brother.” You start, nodding towards him as he smiles.
“A-and these are his friends, Mike and Lucas.” 
“A young Henderson…hmm? Tell me, do you guys play?” Eddie asks the three boys, catching them off guard, their mouths opening and closing as they figure out how to answer.
“They do. They’ve been playing for a few years.” You answer for them, motioning for them to just sit down.
“Thank you.” Mike and Lucas mouth, having sat on the same side of the table as you with Dustin.
You sigh, smiling lightly as you nod to them. Of course you don’t want to upset Eddie, but you’re also not going to leave your brother and his friends to fend for themselves.
Wanting to move on, you take a bite of your lunch, hoping that Eddie leaves the topic of the boys joining you alone. Having known him for three years, though, you should know that he can’t.
“You’ve never mentioned having a brother, Henderson.” He comments, and you can practically feel his eyes on you as you stare at your food.
“The topic never really came up.” 
“Not even when I’ve mentioned wanting to find new members?” He lightly smirks, curious as to why you’d keep such a thing secret. 
Surely you realize how great having a brother that plays D&D is? Within the year most of you will be graduating, and he needs someone to pass the dungeon master title on to. Your younger brother and his friends just starting high school couldn’t be a better option.
“Figured you’d find him and his friends soon enough anyways.” you comment, still not looking up to the curly-haired adonis.
“Hmm, well they’ve saved me the work of searching them out by coming over here. Welcome to hellfire, boys.” 
“Wait, you’re just letting them join?” Gareth questions.
“Yeah. You’ve seen Henderson play. If they know her then they’ve got to be good.” Eddie smiles, making your cheeks flush.
“They’re good, but not on my account.” You mumble.
“Nonsense. Still can’t believe you wouldn’t tell us about them before now, though.” 
“How come you haven’t, y/n? I mean, you talk about them all the time.” Dustin asks, before taking a bite of his food. 
At his statement, the rest of the group seem to perk up, curious to know what you say about each of them. 
“I do not. I’ve only mentioned the club a few times.” You huff, feeling your cheeks heat up a bit more.
“Only a few times to mom and I, but I hear you on the phone with your friend talking about them every week.”
“First off, why’re you even listening to me on the phone? Secondly, the only reason I talk about the club is because I’m updating her on my life.” 
“Got a rather boring life then.” Dustin quips and you simply gawk at him, not believing him right now as a few surprised chuckles leave the rest of the boys.
“Shut up and eat, Dustin. No one asked for your input.” 
You watch him shrug before turning to Mike and Lucas while you stick to staring at your food, feeling the group's eyes on you. It’s bad enough you’re the only girl in the group, you didn’t need them to know you talk about them on a weekly basis.
Little do you realize that Eddie can’t help but find himself smiling at this new side of you. He’s been intrigued by you ever since he first heard you correcting your friends back in your freshman year. He couldn’t believe that such a beautiful girl would play the game he loved.
Of course, after watching you play and just spending time with you during lunch, he’s found himself crushing on you, even if you still remained a bit of a mystery to him. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you of his feelings, though. Not once in the three years he’s known you.
Hearing that you talk about the club, though, makes his heart race. You really enjoy their company so much that you’d talk about them to a friend? It’s insane to him, and yet it makes him feel giddy. He can’t help but wonder what you’ve said - about the club or about him.
~.~
“Lauren, I’m telling you! For as long as I’ve been a part of the club, my brother joins and suddenly that’s all they care about. They all like my brother and his friends better than me.” You sigh, turning onto your back as you stare at the ceiling.
“I highly doubt that, y/n. I’m sure it’s just that your brother and his friends are still new.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Laur. I mean, it’s not like I really bring anything to the group.”
“Y/n, you’re the only girl.”
“That doesn’t mean anything though.” You almost whine. 
You hate to admit it, but you’ve been feeling left out of the club ever since your brother and his friends joined a few months ago. You had the feeling that this would happen, even though you hoped it wouldn’t.
It’s not like you really bring anything to the group, though, now that you’ve introduced Dustin, Lucas, and Mike to the club. Your character isn’t super powerful or helpful or anything. You’re not the best roller. You’re just there...seemingly wasting space.
“Pretty sure it does. I mean, the way you’ve talked about…what’s his name, Eddie?”
“What about him?”
“The way you’ve talked about him, it sounds like he likes you.”
“No. No, he doesn’t. I’m sure of that. He barely talks to me.” You sigh, rolling over onto your stomach as you bury your head into the pillows.
“Y/n, hon, boys are terrible at talking to the girls they like!” Lauren laughs, and you know she’s shaking her head at you.
“Not Eddie. He usually can’t stop flirting, and yet he doesn’t flirt with me. I don’t even think he’s ever actually called me by my name, Laur. I’m just...Henderson to him.”
“Maybe you make him nervous.”
“Me? Make him nervous? Laur, you’ve lost your mind!” You scoff, knowing you could never make a guy nervous. 
Guys don’t even notice you, for crying out loud. How can you make them nervous?
“I don’t make guys nervous. Guys don’t even notice me, Laur. I’m not you.”
“Okay, now you’re just being down on yourself and I’m not going to have that. If this Eddie guy can’t see how fucking amazing you are, then he just doesn’t deserve you. Alright?”
“Not alright. I want him to like me. Like, a lot.” You pout.
“I’m telling you he does. If I’m wrong then I’ll drive myself down there and let you have free go at me. How’s that?”
“You know I’d never do that to you, but I’m telling you that you’re wrong.”
“Sure, I like him, but I know it’s never going to happen.” You sigh, twirling the cord as you stare at your bedspread, still laying on your stomach.
“What’s never going to happen?” You hear Dustin ask, making you jump and drop the phone.
“Dustin, get out of my room!”
“But it’s time to go! We’re going to be late if we don’t leave, y/n, and I don’t want to upset Eddie by being late.” He rambles, and all you can do is roll your eyes.
“Fine. Go get in the car. I’ll be right down.”
“Don’t forget that we’re picking up Mike and Lucas. And don’t forget your folder!”
“I won’t. Now go.” You groan, rolling back onto your stomach and grabbing the phone.
“I’m sorry, Laur. I’ve got to go.” 
“Time to go see your man, huh?” She teases and you roll your eyes, attempting to fight back a blush.
“He’s not my man. Never will be. I’ll call you later, though, okay?” 
“You better! Love you.”
With a ‘love you’ of your own you hang up the phone and roll off of your bed. Grabbing your backpack and a sweater, you slip your shoes on before grabbing your keys and leaving the room.
You really kind of hope tonight’s game goes by quickly, not wanting to be in Eddie’s presence longer than necessary.
~.~
Eddie can’t help but frown as he watches you tonight. He’s been noticing how you’ve been seeming more and more down, almost seeming to pull into yourself and away from the group this past month.
You’ve been quiet lately, which isn’t terribly out of character for you, but it seems different than normal. You don’t quite have that same brightness to you that Eddie’s come to look forward to each day.
“Henderson, is everything alright?”
At his voice you’re pulled from your thoughts, turning to look at the beautiful, curly-haired man that makes your heart race and palms sweat.
“Mhm. Fine.” You hum, nodding and sending a small smile in his direction.
“You’re sure?”
“Mhm.”
As you hum, you turn your attention back to your clasped hands on the table as you zone back out to Dustin and the rest of the group chattering around you.
“Little Henderson, is something up with your sister?” you hear Eddie question as he turns his attention to your brother. 
“Unbelievable.” You huff, shaking your head and crossing your arms as you slump back in your chair.
“Excuse me?” 
“Nothing. Never mind.” You mumble, staring at the table in front of you as you chew on the inside of your cheek.
All you did was zone out for a moment. You don’t understand why he’d have to ask Dustin what’s wrong when that’s all you did. It’s not like he’s ever actually taken notice of your emotions before to know that something is wrong.
“I think she’s upset about a guy.” Dustin speaks up after a moment and you can’t help but scowl at him, brows furrowed in shocked anger.
“A guy?” Eddie questions, almost seeming surprised.
“Yeah.” 
“It’s not about a guy, Dustin. Maybe try keeping your head out of my business.” You retort, jaw tensing in anger.
“But you were saying something about liking someone and how it’s not going to happen.”
“And I told you to stop listening in on me when I’m on the phone.” 
“Then what’s wrong?” Dustin questions, seeming like he genuinely wants to know which irritates you slightly. Why does he have to be so caring when you’re trying to be angry with him?
“Doesn’t matter.” you state, wanting the conversation to be over.
“Yes, it does.”
“If I wanted to tell you, Dustin, I would. Just leave it.” 
“G-guys, can we…can we get playing again?” You hear Mike stutter out and you let out a deep breath.
“Yeah. Sorry for getting off topic. Let’s play.”
“Are you going to be alright to play?” Eddie questions, looking you over, seemingly studying your body language.
He’s never seen you upset before, and he can’t help but wonder what’s going on. It’s not like you to be angry and short with others. Not when he’s always seen you as the happy, upbeat one of the group. 
Could it be a guy like Dustin suggested? Or is it just that you’re not feeling well? Either way he can’t help but want to know.
“I’ll be fine. Let’s just get this going again.” you answer, not bothering to look at anyone but rather as the table and your hands. 
“Henderson-“ Eddie starts, but you quickly cut him off, taking him by surprise at the sheer frustration coming from you.
“Do you not want me playing right now? I said I’ll be fine. Believe me, will you?” 
“Alright. Where were we?”
You let out a breath as you all slowly get back to the game, although you can feel the tenseness of the air still lingering. Attempting to ignore it, you force yourself to focus on what Eddie and everyone else is saying, hoping to god the campaign isn’t much longer.
~.~
Taking your seat at the lunch table, you feel Gareth and Jeff’s eyes on you. It’s like they’re not sure how to talk to you, almost afraid that you’re still as touchy as you were last night during the game.
“I’m not going to bite your heads off, you know.” You comment, not bothering to look up at them as you shove a forkful of food into your mouth.
“You’re sure?” Gareth questions, eyes wider than normal as he still seems cautious.
“Mhm. I just wasn’t feeling great last night.”
“Okay. You’ve just…never been like this.” He states and you know he’s not wrong. Ever since you first joined the club you’ve been quiet and almost demure, not wanting to create any issues. 
You shrug, acknowledging his statement, but leave it unanswered. There’s not really anything to say to that. Not when the entire reason for your irritation is kind of embarrassing and childish.
The two of them don’t seem to mind though, going back to talking amongst themselves as you eat in silence, waiting for everyone else to join the table.
It’s not like anything really changes once everyone is there. They all chat amongst themselves while you keep to yourself, only giving short replies when talked to. You simply eat in silence as you let yourself fall into your thoughts, not wanting to make the atmosphere tense like you had last night.
No one seems to mind, though. At least you don’t think they do. Not until Eddie slides into the empty desk next to yours in your shared study hall at the end of the day.
“Hey, Henderson.” He greets, voice lowered so as to not get yelled at by the teacher or to potentially get on your bad side.
“Hey.” 
“What’s…what’s going on lately?”
“What do y’mean?”
“You’ve been quieter than usual. Not as happy either.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about Eddie.” You mumble, not wanting to share what’s been going on.
“No? See, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Something’s bothering you.” 
“So what if there is? I’m not telling you unless I want to.” 
At your reply, Eddie simply sighs, and you can’t help but feel a little rude. It’s not like he’s done anything, it’s just your stupid thoughts and feelings getting in the way.
“Alright then. I’m not going to push for an answer. I just...I need to know that whatever it is won’t be interfering with the campaign.” 
“It won’t be. Not from here on out.”
“Here on out?”
“I’m quitting the club. Been thinking about it for a while now.” You admit, watching his face fall at your words.
“Henderson-“
“It’s y/n, Eddie.“
As the words leave your lips, the bell rings to signal that the day is finally over. Without hesitating a second, you’re up from your seat and walking away, leaving Eddie confused and scrambling to catch up to you.
“Y/n?” He calls, chasing you from the classroom and towards the doors, not caring that he needed to stop at his locker.
You see Dustin, Lucas, and Mike waiting by the trash can at the edge of the parking lot, and you sigh. You really can’t wait to get home.
“Y/n?! What’s brought this on? Why do you wanna leave the club?” Eddie calls as he continues to follow you towards the parking lot.
“You’re leaving hellfire?” Dustin questions, him and the other two boys having heard Eddie.
“Just get in the car, Dustin.”
“But you’re leaving hellfire?! You can’t just do that!” 
“Exactly! Why’re you trying to leave?” Eddie questions, panting lightly as he finally catches up to you at your car.
“I’m not trying to leave, Eddie. I am leaving. I don’t want to be a part of it anymore. Sorry.”
“No. You can’t just leave. We haven’t finished the campaign yet.”
“You’ll figure out how to continue it without me, I’m sure.”
Of course he’d just be upset about the game getting messed up and not about you actually leaving. Why would he care when he’s still got Little Henderson there? 
“I’ll return my shirt next week.” You state, moving to get into the car.
“Th-that’s not necessary. Hold onto the shirt. Keep it for memory’s sake, I mean.”
“If that’s what you want.” 
Eddie nods, watching you, seeming as if he wants to say something else but he can’t bring himself to.
“Is that everything?” You question, wanting nothing more than to leave.
“Yeah...Yeah, I guess. I’ll see you around?” 
“Yeah. See you around. Come on now, Dustin.”
“You two need rides?” You question Mike and Lucas, almost seeming to ignore Eddie as you get in the car. They shake their heads and you nod, closing your door as you wait for Dustin to do the same.
Soon as he does, you’re putting the car in reverse and backing out as you had already started it. You really didn’t want to be there any longer than you already had been.
As you pull out of the parking lot, though, you can feel Dustin wanting to ask questions, but he seems scared to anger you, so he stays quiet. His questions simply swirling around his head, instead.
~.~
“Wait, you did what now?!” Lauren questions, almost screaming into the receiver.
“I quit the club. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.”
“But you enjoyed it.”
“I enjoyed it when I hadn’t been shoved to the background. I enjoyed it when I actually felt like a part of the club.” 
“So talk to them? You don’t just quit something because it stopped being fun.”
“I think that’s precisely what you do when a club stops being fun, Laur. Besides, it’s not like they miss me.” You huff, pulling your feet towards your body as you lay on your stomach, softly kicking them in the air.
It’s been just about a month since you quit the club, and while it saddens you a little, you’ve also felt the tiniest bit of relief. You don’t have to try so hard to keep your crush on Eddie hidden anymore. You don’t have to spend every lunch period listening to the guys talk about whatever it is they do while you sit to the side. You don’t have to feel like the outcast in the group of outcasts. 
Sure you miss playing the game, but it’s not the end of the world. You’ve found other things to keep yourself preoccupied. Mostly just listening to music and doing your homework, but you’ve found yourself picking up art as a hobby as the days dragged on, slowly starting to fill and old sketchbook you’ve had lying around.
~.~
“It’s still so weird that y/n isn’t here.” Gareth comments as the boys watch you sit at a different table once again. They don’t know why, but they keep hoping this has just been some kind of nightmare and that any day you’ll actually sit back down with them. It just doesn’t make sense why you’d leave them all so abruptly. 
“Yeah. It is.” Jeff agrees, sighing as they see a smile form on your face with a laugh falling out right after. It’s been way too long since any of them have seen you like this, and it kind of hurts.
“She still wears her shirt a lot.” Dustin informs, looking at the older boys - Eddie included - as they watch you.
“She does?” Eddie questions, the bit of knowledge somehow lifting him up a little.
He hated hearing you say you were quitting, and he hated it even more when Monday came around the week after and you didn’t sit with them. Nearly three years you had sat by his side and suddenly you weren’t there anymore. It felt beyond wrong, but he didn’t know what to do to fix it, if there even was anything that he could do.
“Yeah. She seems to wear it all the time now. I’m honestly not sure when the last time was that she didn’t wear it.”
Eddie nods, smiling lightly at the thought. He can’t help but wonder if there’s anything different he could have done to keep you from leaving. Was it something he had said? Or done? Was it just him?
“She’s been acting weird since she left. I heard her on the phone the other day-“
“You really should stop that, Dustin.” Eddie pipes up, but the younger boy doesn’t seem to hear.
“She said something about how she couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine after mentioning to her friend that she quit.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I’ve never known her to pretend about anything. I don’t know what she was talking about.”
“Because then she said something about enjoying the club when she felt like a part of it? She’s always been a part of it though.” Dustin continues, frowning as he eats his food.
He may not understand what you were talking about, but Eddie has a sinking feeling that he does. He really hopes he’s wrong though. 
He doesn’t want to admit that he was giving your brother and his friends more attention than he’s ever really gave you. It’s not that they’re better than you in any way, honestly. It’s just that they’re boys. 
He’s always hesitated in giving you attention during meetings or at lunch, because he didn’t want anyone to catch onto the crush he has on you. He was afraid that if Gareth or Jeff knew he liked you, that it’d make the atmosphere awkward. 
Even by keeping you at a distance, though, the two guys picked up on Eddie’s crush. It’s not in his character to be quiet or reserved in the slightest, so when they noticed how he constrained himself in conversation with you, they knew something was up.
Still, Eddie could never allow himself to act the same way with you like he does with Gareth and Jeff, and now your brother and his friends. He wanted you to like him, so he kept himself from being sarcastic and outspoken with you. Hearing Dustin talk though, Eddie has the suspicion that his plan may have backfired.
“Your sister still picks you up from the meetings, doesn’t she?” Eddie questions, already planning out what he wants to say to you when he can get you aside for a moment.
“No. Nancy’s been dropping me off or I’ve just been riding my bike.” 
“I’ll be driving you home tonight then.” 
“O-okay?!”
Eddie chuckles lightly at Dustin’s excitement, but he never takes his eyes off of you across the cafeteria. He needs to talk to you, and he’s hoping that tonight he can do just that.
~.~
“You know it ain’t easy, running out of thrills. You know it ain’t easy when you don’t know what you want.” 
You hum, laying on your bed as you listen to the drums, guitar, and vocals of Europe fill your room.
“What do you want?” You question, mirroring the song, your foot tapping against your bedspread as you close your eyes.
“Woah-oh-oh, you want to rock now, rock the night, ‘til early in the morning light. Rock now, rock the night.”
“Woah-oh, woah-oh, yeah!” You sing, smiling lightly. 
It’s been awhile since you’ve been able to just relax and enjoy listening to your music without worrying about homework or being late to hellfire. One of the plus sides of quitting the club - you finally get time just for yourself.
Hearing a knock on your door, you hum loud enough to acknowledge whoever is at the door.
“y/n? You’ve got a visitor.” Dustin calls, gently opening your door.
“Who?” You question, sitting up on your bed, nodding as Eddie comes into view behind Dustin.
“Oh…hi.”
“Hi. I-is it alright if I come in?” He questions, pausing in your doorway.
“Yeah, I guess so.” 
As he makes his way inside, you situate yourself in your bed so you’re comfortably sitting up.
“Do you…” 
At Eddie’s voice, you look up to see him questioning you about your door, going to close it before swinging it open.
“You can close it if you want. I don’t care.” 
He nods, softly shoving the door to close it, not quite giving it enough force to close all the way so there’s a little crack left open.
“So what’re you doing here?” You question him, watching him as he looks around, seeming a bit out of place with your soft white walls and contradicting decor.
While he may fit into the plethora of rock band posters covering your walls and the many records and cassettes you’ve got laying around, he doesn’t fit in with the florals and stuffed animals you’ve got elsewhere in your room.
“I, uh, I was hoping we could talk.”
“About what?”
You can’t help but chuckle as he spots the bralette hanging out of your dresser, you having been too lazy to tuck it back in earlier, and seems to pale in horror. For seeming so confident and cocky, he sure doesn’t look it being in a girl’s room.
“You can sit, you know.” You offer, motioning to the chair you’ve got in the corner of your room.
“Yeah, okay.” He mumbles, taking a few steps over towards the chair before sitting on the edge of the seat.
You watch as he takes in your room, fidgeting with his hands and rings as he does so. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was nervous to be here.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“Uh, well, w-we really miss you being in the club. G-gareth, Jeff, and I. I mean, s-so do the younger ones, but…”
“But you three miss me more?” You question, eyebrow cocking in disbelief.
“Well, yeah…yeah.”
“Okay.” You deadpan, not sure what he wants in reply to that. It’s nice to hear that they miss you, but it doesn’t really change anything.
A brief moment passes where you watch Eddie, waiting for him to say something else. Taking in his mannerisms and body language, you can’t remember a time when Eddie’s ever looked so nervous and unsure of himself.
“D-dustin was saying you felt left out? Of the club?” Eddie clarifies, drawing up just enough courage to look at you.
“He was listening to me on the phone again, wasn’t he?” 
“Y-yeah. I tried telling him to stop, but I don’t think he heard me.” he sighs, chuckling lightly in nerves as you shake your head.
“I don’t think he’ll ever stop, if I’m honest. He’ll be traumatized one day or another I’m sure.” You laugh, shaking your head at the thought as you smile.
“It’s true though? You…you felt left out?”
“Yeah. It’s dumb, I know, but you guys took so easily to Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.”
“I get it, they’re great kids, and they play D&D…but it’s like they didn’t even have to try to fit into the group.” You sigh, knowing it’s about time you share at least part of the problem.
“No. No, it’s not dumb. I’m sorry we made you - I made you - feel that way.” Eddie sighs, catching your line of sight in his, wanting you to realize how sincere he’s being.
He never wanted to make you feel left out, it’s just his stupid feelings that got in the way.
“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter anymore, anyways.” 
“It does matter, though. We’d - I’d - really like you to join the group again. It’s not the same without you there, y/n.”
“I’m sorry. I just, I really don’t think joining again would be good, though.” You admit, knowing that if you joined again you’d still just be upset that nothing will ever come from your crush on him.
“How come? I-is there something else that’s been bothering you about the club? I want you to feel welcome.”
“No. No, It’s nothing about the club, Eddie. There’s just a lot of things going on personally that’d make it hard.”
“That guy issue?”
“What?”
“Is it anything to do with that guy issue Dustin mentioned?” Eddie questions, and you can’t help but gawk at him.
“Does he not like you playing or something?”
“What? No.” you answer, shaking your head incredulously, wondering how Eddie got it into his head that you’d ever be wanted by someone. Has he never actually watched how other guys interact with you?
“Then what is it? Why won’t you come back to the club?”
“It doesn’t matter. I just...can’t. It’s better if I let you guys enjoy it yourselves.”
“It’s not better, though. We all want you back, y/n.”
“I’m sorry.” You sigh, not knowing what else you can say. 
A moment passes where neither of you say anything and you start to think that maybe you’re done talking. Before you can say anything of the sort though, Eddie’s asking a question.
“Tell me, is there anything I can do? Anything that would make you want to come back?”
“No…no, there’s nothing you could do, eddie, I promise y-“
“There must be.” He argues, wanting nothing more than to find something he can do to get you to come back. 
He misses you more than he thought possible, and he just needs there to be something - anything - he can do.
“There’s not, though.”
“How come?”
“What?”
“How come there’s nothing I can do? Are you just that dead set on not coming back? Even though we all miss you?”
“If I could, trust me that I would join the group again. I just, I can’t right now, Eddie. I’m sor-“
“Why can’t you?”
“Because…because of you.” You sigh, fed up with him pushing for an answer.
“Me?”
“You, Eddie. I can’t come back because of you. Because if I did then I’d just get all upset again because my heart is dumb and doesn’t know how to listen.” 
“What do you mean?”
You sigh, taking a deep breath as you look at him. You can’t seriously be getting ready to tell him this, but you are. You don’t see any other option right now.
“I like you, Eddie.” You sigh, fidgeting with your fingers.
“I like you, but you don’t like me. I mean, it’s obvious between you never talking to me or looking at me and how you’ve always called me Hender-“
You gasp, moaning lightly as you get cut off by a pair of lips on yours. Eddie was kissing you to shut you up.
At the realization you can’t help but panic, not understanding why he’d do this when he doesn’t like you. 
“Eddie!” 
“Fuck! I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just, you were rambling and saying I didn’t like you but I do! I do. I like y-“
It’s his turn to gasp and groan into the kiss as you pull him to your lips, one hand tightly grasped in the front of his shirt while the other drapes around his shoulders, holding him close to you.
As he realizes what’s happening, he relaxes into the kiss, his one hand coming up to caress your cheek as the other holds himself up on the bed.
It’s not until you’re both out of breath and gasping for air do you actually pull away from each other, your hand relaxing against his chest as he lowers his from your cheek.
“Woah.” He sighs, trying to catch his breath as he chuckles lightly, studying your face.
“Yeah.” You murmur, ghosting your fingers over your lips as if trying to remember if that actually just happened.
“Uhm, so I like you. If-if that wasn’t obvious.” He stutters and you chuckle, smiling at the curly-haired dork.
“I like you too.”
“I’m sorry I pushed you away. Made you feel left out when I was just too nervous to admit I liked you.”
“I’m sorry I got all moody and quit the club because I was jealous of my brother instead of just telling you how I felt.”
“So…does this mean you’ll come back?” He asks, hopeful, as he kneels in front of you.
“You’ll stop treating me differently?”
“Mhm. Trust me when I say there’ll be no pushing you away after that.” 
“Mm. Don’t be treating me specially either just because we kissed.” you lightly chuckle, cocking a brow as you chew on your lip to hold back the smile wanting to light up your face.
“Can I treat you differently if I ask you to be my girlfriend?” he questions, a wide, goofy smile filling his face as he looks at you.
A smile grows on your face at his sheer happiness, drawing a light chuckle from you as you reply to his question.
“Not during game play. We don’t wanna be unfair to the guys, do we?”
“Mm, you’re right. If I promise to not treat you specially during gameplay then will you be my girlfriend?” he asks, really wanting to hear you say yes. He’s only liked you for nearly three years, frequently imagining you as his girlfriend the entire time.
“I would really love for you to be my girlfriend, and I your boyfriend. It just. It sounds really nice.” 
“You ramble a lot. You know that?” You giggle, tucking some hair behind his ear as a blush dusts over his cheeks.
“Is that a good thing?”
“Sometimes.” You smile, biting your lip to keep from kissing him again.
“So…?”
“If you promise not to treat me specially during the game, then I’d love to be your girlfriend, Eddie.”
“Yeah?” He questions, as if he doesn’t believe that you’d agree.
“Yeah.”
With the word out of your mouth, his lips find yours again, pulling a chuckle from your body as he slowly lowers himself on top of you, pinning you against your mattress as he kisses you, one hand cupping your cheek as the other rests on your waist.
“Did you-ew!” You hear Dustin call from your doorway, fake gagging as he sees Eddie on top of you, effectively startling the man back into kneeling at the end of your bed.
“Did we what, dustin?” You ask, leaning around Eddie’s body to look at your brother still standing at your doorway, one hand plastered over his eyes.
“I wanted to see if you two had figured things out, but it seems like you did.”
“Yeah, we did, little henderson. Your sister is coming back to the club.” Eddie shares, smiling at you as he situates himself on the bed beside you, Dustin uncovering his eyes in excitement at the exact same time.
“Can you please get off of my sister?” he begs, shielding his eyes again as eddie places a soft kiss to your lips in his own happiness of you coming back to the club.
“But I like being close to my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?! You’re dating my sister?!” Dustin exclaims, a look of pure shock and disgust on his face.
“Is there a problem with it, Dustin?” You question, watching your brother almost seeming to pout.
“I guess not. Just…don’t be gross when I’m around. Please?”
“We’ll try not to be.” Eddie states, smiling at you as Dustin nods, giving a small okay before leaving the two of you alone.
As the door closes, Eddie’s looking back at you, both of you chuckling.
“Guess you were right in saying he’d be traumatized one day.” He chuckles, leaning down to give you another kiss, never realizing just how amazing it’d feel to have your lips on his.
You can’t help but smile into it, enjoying the feel of his body on yours. You’ve only been imaging this moment for nearly four years. You’ve got to say that nothing you imagined could ever live up to the reality, though. Kissing Eddie is like a little slice of heaven, you swear.
It certainly took you long enough to get here, but now that you’re here, you don’t ever want to go back.
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youryanderedaddy · 4 months
Text
War Prize
pt. 1, pt. 2
Tw: female reader, dub-con, somnophilia, stockholm syndrome, possessive behavior, hinted kidnapping, threats, commissioned piece
It had been so long since Raven captured you - five or six years in total, although you couldn't be quite sure of the exact amount as you had no access to books, calenders or even ink to write with.
Nowadays it was mostly calm around the occupied territories - almost domestic in a sense. You let yourself be pampered more often than not - you drunk the silky, bitter coffee Raven's slaves left out for you, and bathed in the sweet oils he picked for you. Long gone were the days when you fought him over the slightest injustice, long gone were the days when you stopped to think about every miserable soul who had to suffer so you could live in luxury. 
It was easier this way really. The barbarian was good to you, even if it wasn't in his nature initially. The hands that once bruised and hit and wrapped around your hair were now caressing your skin softly, the lips once sealed tight with furrowed hairy brows were leaving hot, wet kisses down your throat, feverish to the touch. You could wear the finest furs and dresses, your body covered in stolen gold and plundered diamonds from head to toe. Raven had made it clear - he loved you, and that meant that the whole world belonged to you the way you belonged to him.
Your life was simple, you had one purpose now - to please your master. You didn't have to work long hours on the field or take care of  a big, starving family ever again. All you had to do was spread your legs at any given moment, and stay soft and pliant in his rough, muscular hands. 
***
You'd usually wake up early in the morning from the slow, deep thrusts inside your hot wet cunt - stars dancing in your eyes as his length brushes against your cervix, filling you up to the brim. Your wrists are pinned above your head with little opportunity for movement, keeping you tightly into place. 
Raven starts slowly and keeps turning up the pace until he is practically shoving himself sloppily against your overflowing hole, his nails digging into the meat of your thighs so he can have more leverage over your quivering body.
“I love to see you fall apart beneath me.” He'd growl in your ear, his forehead resting against yours as his nostrils flare - eyes filled with sick, animalistic need to possess you fully. You moan, closing your eyes - too overwhelmed with pleasure to form a proper response. “Ah, ah, ah - no hiding from me. Let me see you, pretty girl.” Raven hisses, spreading your legs even wider, bouncing your hips up and down on his throbbing cock. 
Your lower lip trembles, desperate to stop another wave of wanton moans - but to no avail. Your sweet voice fills the tent, echoing beyond the thick walls.
“Look at you, all cute and teary for me. Aren't you just precious, slave?” The barbarian chuckles condescendingly, all while groping and slapping your ass lightly - playing with the hot doughy skin. “I want everyone to hear you.” His gaze darkens as his fist wraps around your neck possessively. “I want every single one of my men to hear you sing for me. I want their robes to strain with greed and jealousy with the knowledge that they'll never have my most prized possession.” 
You inhale sharply, lost in a cloudy headspace of dreams and red - hot pleasure. You feel your master's hand squeeze your throat tighter, and your pussy flutters around his length, slick running down your thighs and towards your asshole. It doesn't make sense - he is using you for his own satisfaction with little care for your personal comfort, but his touch makes you feel so warm and floaty, fuzzy butterflies tearing at your stomach - proud to belong to such a strong, powerful man. 
“I want you completely broken. I want to fill you up with my love and ruin you for any other man out there.” He'd groan, sinking his teeth into your neck and aiming for your sweet, sweet blood. “I want everyone to know that I tamed your pretty little brain and made you all mine, now and forever.” Raven kisses you, stealing the breath out of your mouth, sucking in all the panicked little sounds coming out of it. “Say it.” He orders, both threatening and desperate like a lovesick child. 
You can't stand it anymore - you throw your arms around his shoulders. You need to feel him against you, skin on skin. “I'm yours, all yours.” You cry out, holding on for dear life. There is no point denying it now - you can't imagine life without your master, no matter how cruel or difficult he may be. Who else would warm your bed? Who would give you purpose? Where else could you even go now that he has claimed you - and everybody knows?
“Say you love me.” His voice breaks, hands shivering as he holds you painfully close to him - as if the moment he lets go, he'd wake up and you'd be gone just like before. “Say you love me like I love you. Say you'll never leave me - or I swear to the Gods I'll chain you up here to never see the sun again.” He blubbers on and on, thrusts getting fast and frantic, pushing in and out of you with the ferocity of a lover and the fear of a man possessed. 
“I love you.” You whisper, laying back like a good little doll - letting yourself move and twist just the way he wants you to. He pulls you up into a standing position and all but swallows your sobs and wails, his tongue fighting yours for dominance. He lowly commands you to keep repeating it over and over again - until he gets sick of it (if ever), and paints your velvet walls all white and sticky with his seed. 
You take a couple of short shallow breaths, trying to resume your normal breathing. His hand rests on your neck - his eyes finally lose the furious, jealous spark, and he reaches out to stroke your hair gently.
“Good girl.”
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joshlmbrt · 2 months
Note
Spencer needs someone that listens to him yap about his silly little facts! Someone that looks at him in adoration while he explains the most complex shit no one understands. He is so not used to having someone actually listen to him and not just tell him to shut it or brush him off.
oh, anon, this is so true !!! ‘stop being yourself for just a second’ is my roman empire because how can you tell ANYONE that ? but thank you for this request!!! i hope you enjoy this love! <3 also this is season five spencer OGGA-BOOGA w; none !! just fluff !!
“did you know that a woodpeckers tongue actually wraps around its brain?” spencer asks so casually. he’s reading a book while you watch a show. you turn your head towards him, smiling when your eyes land on his face.
the glasses he wears in the comfort of home only now slips down the curve of his nose, his fingers pressing them back up.
“really?” you tilt your head.
“mhm. it’s so it can protect it’s brain while it hammers its beak into a tree.”
“that’s cool. do you have any more interesting things to tell me?” spencer thinks your being mean, but you’re turning off the television and scooting closer, slotting your fingers through his long hair, working through the knots.
his heart tends to beat a bit faster when he can smell your perfume because he knows your close, now it’s lodged in his throat because of how much invades his nose and he loves it.
“this okay?” your fingers stop quickly - you sometimes forget that he doesn’t like being touched. you never want to make him feel uncomfortable.
“more than okay,” he nods. “and… you really want to hear more facts?” he looks towards you. you nod quickly, your free hand pushing his metal frames up.
you need to tighten those up for him in your free time.
“yeah. i love hearing you talk about anything. it could… it could be something so gross and i’d listen because it’s you talking.”
he flushes and a small smile pulls at his lips as he looks away quickly. you giggle softly.
“why, dr. reid, are you blushing?”
“no.” he lies.
“i might not be a profiler… but i believe i have you all flushed, handsome.” your nose trails along his cheek, smiling as you press your lips against the warm skin.
“i… yes,” he mumbles.
“i know.” you giggle in his ear. he smiles at the sound and turns towards you.
“it’s just… i feel like i talk too much. i get too excited and start to ramble about something stupid. people tend to tell me that.”
“what ever comes out of your mouth isn’t stupid, spence. you have a brain of knowledge and that’s a beautiful thing to have - you should be proud of it.”
he looks up at you and smiles. “thank you.”
“for what?”
“letting me be me.”
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delcakoo · 1 year
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txt’s reaction to you being asked out ⋆˚。⋆↯˚
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requested <3
PAIRING ! txt x f!reader
WC ! 4k
GENRE ! fluff, crack
WARNINGS ! jealousy, slight insecurities, strangers asking u out
a/n: the readmore cut actually worked for once a tear rolled down my leg . ty for the req nonie hope u enjoy !
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// CHOI SOOBIN !
DISPLEASED. EXTREMELY DISPLEASED AND ON HIGH ALERT !!
soobs doesn’t find himself getting jealous often
he trusts you more than anyone in the world and basks in the knowledge that you’re just as whipped for him as he is for you,,,
something super big would have to happen for him to genuinely get upset
and so when he does..
oh boy
good luck dealing with a clingy sulky baby :(
everything was going SO well today too
soobin was very proud of himself for organising the beach date you were visibly enjoying to the fullest <3
you’d spent all day making a giant sandcastle, playing around in the water, having an intense game of volleyball that soobin complEtely dominated and it’s not because he’s good. he’s just ridiculously tall and barely needed to jump
and of course !! getting ice cream !!! the highlight of a very hot day
you were both still dripping saltwater, but soobin put on a t-shirt over his swim trunks while you decided to stay in your bathing suit due to the fear of getting your clothes soaked too
while you waited in line for the ice cream truck, your boyfriend was busy trying to fix his hair when you feel someone poke your shoulder
of course you turn around to investigate,,
just to see some random guy around your age holding his phone opened to a new contact, a confident smile on his face as he continuously glances you up and down
bro wasn’t even trying to be subtle with the staring >:[
“hey, so i was just wondering if i could get your number, i think you’re gorgeous.”
THE SPEED IN WHICH SOOBIN TURNED AROUND
he doesn’t even say anything, just completely awestruck that this asshat couldn’t see him right there?!?
yeah, okay maybe u could pass as friends since he wasn’t much for pda, but too bad!!
he should’ve known and now soobin has the biggest pout on his face as he stares daggers at the man, waiting for you to deal with the situation yourself unless the time comes for him to step in
you just blink in surprise, “oh, me? thanks, but i’m here with my boyfriend.”
finally, he follows your finger to meet soobin’s eyes, gulping at the way he has his arms crossed and face sporting a please-dont-actually-try-to-fight-me-but-i-hate-you glare
personally you think he looks like a cute angry fluffball
but clearly the guy is slightly intimidated — perhaps by his height and built biceps — judging by how frantically he shoves his phone back in his pocket
“oh, my bad. sorry bro,” he apologizes, jogging off before he could embarrass himself further
as soon as he’s far enough, soobin starts murmuring under his breath, wrapping a big arm around your shoulder
sulky soob activated T-T
expect him to be extra clingy and show lots of affection in public for the rest of the day regardless if he’s feeling better or not about the situation
which is SO not like him
the grip he has on your waist even makes yOu nervous
“m’ not your bro. who does he think he is? seriously. looking at you like a piece of meat, i’ll- i’ll punch him!”
you snicker knowing damn well your boyfriend wouldn’t even hurt a fly
amused, you watch as he begins tapping his foot, clearly thinking way too deep into the situation, “couldn’t even ask if you had a boyfriend first! do i not look boyfriend-y enough?” his heart shaped lips form a frown, showing off his dimples unintentionally
“love, you’re the most boyfriend-y guy here, okay? did you forget how that guy nearly shit his pants when he saw you?”
a childish grin sports soobin’s cheeks at that, pride flowing through him and making you chuckle in return
“now c’mon big baby, what flavor are you getting?”
yeah you’ve made him feel a bit better about it
but don’t expect him to be anything but attached to your hip all day <\3
even when you go to the washroom he’s standing outside the door like a guard dog
constantly on the lookout as if that guy is plotting to randomly show up and steal you away !! he has to be sure :( !!
when you tease him though,, he of course gets all defensive
“ay, you wouldn’t be laughing if it was some girl trying to ask me out! you don’t understand.”
when you tell him that he’s right and that you’d be pissed too, he feels a bit better n’ goes back to having only a sliGht pout
but pssst secret
some cuddles and kisses when you get back home should fix him right up <3 !!
// CHOI YEONJUN !
the most atrocious yet blank stare imaginable
he wouldn’t even process what’d happened for a few seconds like
huh 🧌 that’s. that’s my girlfriend what do u mean. doesn’t everybody know she’s mine what no how could this happen plea
at the same time junie isn’t really a fan of confrontation and y’know
calling someone out
but in this situation IF he isn’t busy being the real life version of the standing man emoji HE WILL SPEAK UP !!
when something like this actually happened, it was originally a very chill day for you and jun <3
he invited you to come grocery shopping with him for the dorm
and man oh man he looks so boyfriend with that plain white tee and half his hair in a lil’ ponytail T-T
you tried not to ogle him the whole time
but clearly you weren’t doing well considering he already caught you staring twice …
“yah, cutie,” yeonjun barks with a teasing look on his face, “stop drooling and go get soobin’s bread. i’ll be in the ramen aisle.”
you roll your eyes but listen anyway, making your way two aisles over to find the bread section containing a man who’s carefully glancing at his phone, then back at the display with a lost expression
as you get closer you quickly realise he’s having trouble finding the bread on his list, so of course you decide to help him out like a good citizen
“is this the one you need?”
the man whips his head up at your voice, a grateful smile on his face as he nods and acceps the loaf carefully
“yeah, thanks. you’d think being so tall i could find things easily but..” shyly, he looks away, ruffling his bangs habitually
you chuckle while grabbing a loaf of soobin’s favorite bread, feeling the guy watch closely from beside you
“i uh, actually recently moved here and i was thinking,” he swallows, “would you want to help me find a good place to eat? on me, of course.”
you blink
was he asking you as a friendly gesture of thanks or as a date
you honestly couldn’t tell
“well i’ll have to ask my boyfriend, he’d probably wanna know the details and stuff. or maybe he could come with us?”
“oh, that isn’t really—“
just as he opens his mouth to reply, a familiar pale arm wraps around your waist and pulls you into a sturdy chest
“hey princess,” yeonjun aggressively pecks the top of your head, a gesture that has your stomach swooning, “who’s this?”
obliviously, you smile, “oh, we just met here and he was going to take me to—“
since you were in front of him, you didn’t get to see yeonjun’s cold stare that caused the man to quickly put his free hand up in surrender
“oh, no no, nevermind that! sorry— uh, thank you again.” he barely even finished his sentence before turning around and storming off, ears bright red
you begin to question why he was suddenly rushing, but you’re snapped out of it by none other than your boyfriend swivelling you around to face him
yeonjun just stares at you for a moment
looking carefully at your features before cupping your face and leaning down for a kiss
his lips were always so plush n’ soft and you desperately wanted to keep feeling them but
it couldn’t be too long as you were still in a grocery store after all
but even once you pull away yeonjun grabs your hand tightly
“i leave for five minutes and other guys are already hovering around you like flies,” he complains, duck lips turning down cutely
“now you know what it’s like,” you snort, rubbing his knuckles with your fingers laced through his. “you know i’m only yours, ignore them.”
he looks down at you, a fond yet playful gaze in his pretty eyes
“oh really? what are you? i think i forgot, say it again~”
“yours, dumbass,” you can’t help but smile at his antics ^^
“that’s right, mine. mine. all mine.” with each word, yeonjun gives your head another loving smooch <3
// CHOI BEOMGYU !
now this one ..
hate to break it to you but gyu may start laughing and mocking the guy as soon as he’s gone
he finds you rejecting other men hilarious, especially watching the way their face falls in defeat :)
butttt sometimes he gets a little irked out,, especially when the guy has pretty much anything better than him whether it be height or just neater hair
n’ even though you reject those kinds of guys just as quickly as any other, his insecurities tend to eat away at him
so make sure to reassure your boy !!
you and beomgyu decided to bus downtown for a day at the cat cafe that recently opened
things were going better than expected considering going on a weekday apparently meant not many other customers would be around ^^
plus the amount of lockscreen-worthy photos you got of gyu with kittens was astronomical HOW WERE YOU GONNA CHOOSE!!
out of the corner of your eye though, you couldn’t help but fidget at the feeling of the employee staring daggers at you
and at first you worried you were doing something wrong, but all you’ve been doing thus far is play with a grey kitten, laugh at gyu, and take a million pictures
“this one really likes me. i think we should take him home,” beomgyu declares, holding up a small white kitten to demonstrate
but when you don’t reply, he sends you a concerned gaze, “you okay?”
“yeah.. just, that guy won’t stop staring at me.”
when he looks to see who you were talking about, a frown pulls onto beomgyu’s lips
the man was even taller than him and had soft, neatly parted black bangs that somehow rested perfectly by his eyes
don’t even get him started on the uniform he attired being pulled up a bit to reveal tight muscles against his arms, what’s a guy like that doing working at a cat cafe of all places?
beomgyu turns to you, placing the white kitten back onto the floor, “want me to go tell him to stop? i can be very intimidating~”
you watch as he wiggles his eyebrows and snort, “it’s fine. i wanna go ask him about this grey kitten anyway, she’s cute.”
immediately, gyu stands up along with you, “well i’m coming too.”
what? he didn’t want that guy talking to you one on one >:[
as you make your way over to where the employee stands behind a counter, a smile quickly rises to his face when he catches you approaching
“hey there, can i help you with anything? would you like a drink?”
the whole time he never takes his eyes off of you, and beomgyu crosses his arms at the realisation that this man was totally ignoring him! the audacity!!
so of course he opens his mouth, “yeah, actually. i’ll get a latte, please.”
finally, the man turns to him, and his expression falters for a second before he nods and gets to work
you give beomgyu a strange look that he ignores
“you don’t even like lattes,” you murmur with furrowed brows
he simply nods to the kitten in your arms, a defensive glare on his face, “yah, don’t forget what we came here for.”
just in time, the man turns back to you while finishing up the latte and sliding it over to your boyfriend, who emits a barely audible ‘thanks’
a smile quickly returns to his face as he takes you in, along with the kitten you’re holding, “anything for you, pretty girl?”
what
what’d he call you
beomgyu’s jaw DROPS touches the ground even
that is HIS nickname for you!!!
he immediately frowns, a competitive gleam in his eyes as he reaches down to pat your head
“she is pretty, isn’t she?”
apparently the guy didn’t get the hint as he quickly agrees with a cheery ‘of course’ 👎
you seem equally confused but you quickly cough and speak up, “i— uh, i was just wondering what breed this kitten was.”
with another cheesy smile that has beomgyu gagging, he replies, “that’s a british shorthair. we actually have a new litter of shorthairs arriving next week. if you decide to stop by i could give you a personal introduction.”
the man winks, sending another surge of fury through beomgyu, “along with a coffee on the house, of course.”
… it honestly wasn’t a bad deal
but judging by the way beomgyu grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the exit, you assumed it was a no
“sorry, thanks for the offer!” you barely make out before the cafe door slams closed
“along with a coffee on the house, of course,” beomgyu mocks the man’s deep voice, face scrunched up obnoxiously while you groan next to him
“don’t let him ruin our nice day baby, c’mon,” you reassure the boy, smoothing out his frustrated wrinkles with your thumb, “i’ve already forgotten what that loser looks like.”
beomgyu’s snickers, relief taking over his features as he stares down at the sidewalk
“mkay. you think i’m better looking, right?”
“he isn’t even competition next to you.”
he gets giddier by each word, slowly going back to his regular self whilst a small :> rises to his lips
“and you’re all mine, right?”
“yeah,” you bump his shoulder, smirking playfully, “and you’re mine?”
his smile grows, “obviously.”
gyu mostly stays positive like that through the remainder of the date, but later you may find him sitting and staring off into space, once again reminiscing on what could’ve made that guy think you weren’t taken, if he wasn’t good enough, etc
but don’t worry! as long as you’re ready to offer words of affirmation and big spooning, he’ll be back to you in no time ^^
// KANG TAEHYUN !
not a very big reaction
it’s terry we’re talking about !! our unfazed king
he knows you’re his, what’s there to worry about ^^
honestly he might even chuckle at whoever had the confidence to try and ask you out rigHt in front of him
he lets you deal with it yourself unless it escalates in any way,, in that case oh boy is he ready
mans can finally put those hard-earned muscles to use <3
anways so you and tyun were having a nice lil’ outing at a cafe for lunch
being seated by the window, you spent every few seconds pointing at random things outside like literal cats <3
at one point a squirrel ran by and you immediately pointed at it going ‘you’ THEN TYUN DID HIS CUTE GIGGLE
he was in one of his cute moods and you could swear his eyes held the whole world when he smiled at you like that :(
that kinda changed when the waiter came though,,
you were a bit oblivious, but taehyun quickly caught on to the way the young man’s gaze would linger on you each time he handed you something no matter it was your drink, a napkin, absolutely any reason he could use to stAre at you
and despite him not being a very confrontational person, he makes sure you’re fully aware of what he sees
“ that guy totally wants you,” he comments as if it was something as simple as the weather 💀
meanwhile you nearly choke on your drink, “that— what? who?”
“waiter guy.”
“and at first you smile, “aww, you jealous?”
but of course ,, big mistake
“of what? you’re in love with me, aren’t you?” HE’S SO GRHRRGFH
you do that classic pouty pout and taehyun secretly wishes the table wasn’t there so he could lean over and kiss it away because aWww <3
bUt after that incident things were running smoothly, and since the waiter hadn’t returned for a while, taehyun figured it’d be a good time to run to the bathroom
well
apparently he couldn’t get a moment of peace because as soon as he waddled back to where you were seated, waiter guy had his elbow on the table, writing something on a sticky note while murmuring something that taehyun could only catch a few words from
“—can always call me if he messes up, i’ll be waiting.”
OOOHH yeah no he’s shaking in fury on the inside but stays cool on the outside
the sound of your sweet voice telling the man you weren’t interested and that something like that would never happen manages to cool him down a bit, but tyun still makes sure to bump the man’s shoulder extra hard while pacing back to his seat
“what’d i miss?” your boyfriend’s voice is so calm as usual,, but also somehow scary and cold n’ even yOu get nervous!!
“i- uh, enjoy your meal.”
taehyun SCOFFS as the man wobbles away with his tail tucked between his legs, “how pathetic,” he frowns
ouch…
you reach over to his knuckles which instantly softens up his tense muscles, watching as he sighs
“see, you’re just too gorgeous. it gets bothersome,” as usual, his voice is calm, but this time laced with a hint of dramatic playfulness, making you giggle shyly
you’ve gotten better and better at reading and understanding your boyfriend’s speech habits and tones, which is something not many could successfully do ^^
that’s pretty much it though
he might bring it up another time as almost a little inside joke between you guys, but he prefers to say that the guy was too irrelevant to bring any more attention to !!
but also
on the bill..
taehyun reattached that sticky note he tried to hand you and wrote something on it
unfortunately he folded it so you never got to see, but judging by the nervous stutters the waiter let out while handing him the receipt, you guessed it wasn’t too polite
your mind is taken off that real quick though when his larger hand is cupping yours :D
“c’mon princess,” with the gentlest forehead kiss ever, “we won’t be back here, that’s for sure.”
// HUENING KAI !
does that thing where his head just frantically shakes between u two like O-0
nervous chuckles awkward foot movements
starts inwardly panicking like fUck what should a boyfriend do in this situation SHOULD I BE PUNCHING THAT GUY
because lowkey
he doesn’t care that much,,
he trusts you fully n’ knows that guy is getting rejected
by the end of the whole fiasco he may end up having a nice conversation with the stranger as if they’re besties
they’ll be discussing how awful the weather’s been in the past week while you just stand there utterly gobsmacked
..he’s hyuka what’d you expect
however
do note that your boy may become unusually clingy after it’s all over
and if you question him he may or may not gaslight you into thinking everything’s normal out of embarrassment <3
anyways SEGWAY GOES HERE (coughs. so smooth)
being the rock-paper-scissor loser that you were
your co-workers left you alone to close up the local convenience store for the night (boooo tomato tomato)
closing was in a mere five minutes, and you were more than ready to book it out the door n’ spend your remaining waking hours watching anime with kai
AND all his plushies of course ^^
besides that NOBODY else was invited
not even soobin despite how he usually loves watching anime with you guys :(
kai insisted it was his very much needed alone time with you
so when the bell above the door jingles, a smile already makes it’s way to your face, expecting to see your boyfriend there and ready to drive you home
well.. not exactly
a man that looks around your age runs in, quickly sprinting over to the grocery section
and you’re just like well. shit.
if this is a robbery you’re fully prepared to sacrifice everything in the store
what’d they expect paying you minimum wage ??
but before you even raise your hands in surrender, the man has already made his way to the cashier, panting and huffing as he drops his basket onto the counter
“sorry, i know you close in a few minutes but if you could ring me up it’d be really, really great.”
you blink
“oh. yeah, sure. sorry, i thought you were a thief this whole time.”
watching you scan his items, the man giggles, “my bad. it’s.. a long story.”
“clearly, if you’re buying energy drinks at this time of night.”
again, he chuckles, leaning his palms on the table. “hey, you’re quite cute,” just as he speaks up, the doorbell rings again, “could i get your number?”
meanwhile you lift your head to see kai, who is now awkwardly staring between you both with a nervous smile on his lips
facepalming inwardly, you clear your throat, “uh- sorry, my boyfriend is- um, right there.”
when the guy turns to face him, kai just coughs with a barely audible, ‘hi’
“shit, that’s embarrassing. my bad— again.” you almost feel pity as the man fumbles to put his card back in his wallet, grabbing his bag and speedwalking to the door
but right before he can leave, kai speaks up out of nowhere, “where- where’d you get your jacket?”
you give him an odd stare, matching the guy who backtracks in confusion, “uh, i dunno. why?”
“i think i have the same one, that brand is super underrated,” kai grins nervously, and honestly, you’re starting to feel like a proud mom watching her kid make their first friend at pre-school
after the stranger gasps and brings up how he’s never met anyone else who knows it, they ramble for another few minutes before he eventually checks his phone, apologizing and saying that he needs to leave
nOt without exchanging numbers with your boyfriend of course
when kai turns around to see you shaking your head in disbelief, he bursts into a fit of screechy dolphin laughter
“he came for your number and ended up with mine instead!”
you smack his shoulder, countering the endeared smile growing on your lips, “god, you’re insane. who the hell makes friends with a guy who asked their girlfriend out minutes prior?”
grabbing your bag for you, kai throws it over his shoulder and wiggles his brows, “your boyfriend does, cutie. i personally think i handled it great.”
“yeah, whatever. go watch demon slayer with him instead.”
he pinches your cheek, cooing mockingly, “aw, no need to be jealous! i only wanna watch with my pretty girl~”
he’s acting all cocky right now
but right as kai starts to gets sleepy, he begins mumbling on about how much he doesn’t like when others try to steal you from him, and that he’ll do anything to be the one staying by your side permanently ^^ <3
if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ feedback is always appreciated + motivating for me to post more!
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scuderiahoney · 3 months
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Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion pt 1
hockey au part 1: moving in, family dinner, and the first game of the season. also featuring: a whole bunch of other f1 cameos. 4.9k words
warnings: alcohol, slight reference to injury, my limited knowledge of college hockey, it’s a bit slow burn-y but i hope you get the vibe
You’re sitting in Lando Norris’ room, a basket stuffed to the brim with goodies perched on your lap. You’ve just finished going through them with Lando, explaining each one in excruciating detail. There are snacks, -both healthy and non healthy- study items, some school gear, and everything in between.
“You’re crazy,” Lando says, brows raised. “Like. Clinically. Coach told me to keep an eye on him, not… mother him.”
You roll your eyes. “Don’t you want him to feel welcome? S’gotta be scary, coming to a new team his junior year.”
The two of you are talking about Oscar Piastri, the hockey prodigy who, for two years, has been playing at a different school. Now he’s headed to play with Lando’s team, and his coach had strongly suggested that Lando take him under his wing. He’s moving in as one of Lando’s roommates in their off campus house today, so you’d made him a welcome basket. You’d been thrilled about the whole idea. Lando’s less excited, it seems.
“I do want him to feel welcome,” Lando says, collapsing backwards onto his bed and sighing. “This just seems a little overboard.”
“When am I not overboard?” You ask, hugging one knee to your chest.
Lando purses his lips, then shrugs. “You’ve got a point.”
You hear a commotion downstairs, and both you and Lando sit up a little straighter. You can hear Max Verstappen, the team captain, talking, probably showing Oscar around the house. You wiggle your fingers on the bed in excitement. Lando sighs in mock annoyance. He’s smiling, and you can tell he’s excited too. You know him well enough to know that. You’ve been friends for years and years now.
Lando stands up and nods towards the open bedroom door. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
You follow him down the stairs and into the living room, where Max is standing with Oscar, explaining something and waving his hands around as he speaks. You and Lando lean in the doorway, his head stacked above yours, and wait patiently for them to notice you. Max does first, and his eyes light up. He waves the two of you in and introduces you both to Oscar, who smiles politely.
You’re holding the basket of goodies in your arms, and you hold it out to him. “This is a little welcome present,” you say, blinking softly.
Oscar takes the basket into his hands and blinks softly. His cheeks have gone red, and you feel your own face grow warm as he looks up at you. His hair falls over his forehead, and he smiles. Oh. Oscar Piastri is cute.
“Wow, thanks,” he says, quietly. “This is great.”
Lando leans over your shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
You elbow him, so hard he hunches over and groans. “Fuck off, Norris, you did nothing.”
Oscar laughs, muffling it behind his hand, and you feel quite proud of it. Max is quick to pull Oscar away after that, muttering something about showing him the rest of the house. Lando, having recovered, stands up and glares at you. You shrug. Then something pops into your head.
“Hey, family dinner is at 7:00 tonight,” you call after Max and Oscar, and Lando winces at the volume of your voice. “Don’t be late! I’m talking to you, Max.”
Nearly everyone shows up to the family dinner that night, which isn’t how they usually go. The whole team doesn’t live at the house, but Sunday dinner is open to everyone, and people make appearances based on their schedules. The guys who do live in the house are almost always there, of course. And you, because you almost never have anything better to do.
Oscar comes down to dinner in a Timberwolves hoodie that you recognize from the gift basket, which makes you feel a bit giddy inside. He stands on the edge of the crowd of people in the kitchen, like he’s a bit afraid to even put a toe in the wrong place. You smile softly at him from across the room as you open a bottle of soda. That same pretty blush returns to his cheeks.
Someone notices him, finally, and announces his presence. They’re hockey players, so they jump straight into teasing and far too aggressive handshakes. You let out a little sigh of relief as you see some of the tension fall from his shoulders. He looks happy to meet everyone, a smile slipping across his face. You can’t help the matching one on your own lips.
“Told you he’d be fine,” Lando says, nudging your shoulder.
You nod. “Yeah.”
Across the room, you hear someone comment on his hoodie as they tug on the front of it. “Nice, already repping the team!”
He nods, looking towards where you and Lando stand at the counter. “Oh. Yeah. Lando and his girlfriend gave it to me.”
The room falls silent for just a few seconds, and then they all erupt into laughter. Oscar looks around, bewildered, face even redder than before. You roll your eyes at the rest of the boys.
“I’m not his girlfriend,” you state, and Oscar scrunches his face up sheepishly. “And, like I said before, Lando did absolutely nothing to help.”
“You know, you could sound less disgusted at the idea of being my girlfriend,” Lando suggests.
You roll your eyes and pick your drink up off the counter. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Alex, a goalie on the team who’s leaning on the counter nearby, nods along. “Besides, it’s not like you could ever pull Bunny, Lando.”
Lando puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. Alex’s comment is met with resounding agreement. Oscar looks even more confused. There’s a little furrow in his brow that you think is honestly quite adorable.
“Bunny,” Max says, pointing at you, always happy to explain something, “is her nickname.”
“It’s a long story,” Alex pipes in.
Oscar doesn’t ask more than that. When everyone sits down for dinner, he’s quiet, especially compared to the rest of them. He’s still settling in, you remind yourself. A new team must be daunting. As everyone talks about class schedules and syllabuses and how they can’t wait for the hockey season to start, you relate to him more than he’ll probably ever understand.
After dinner, the rest of the team files out. Eventually, you’re left at the dining table with Lando and Max. Their other roommates, George, Alex, and Charles, are in the kitchen cleaning up the leftovers. Oscar has disappeared, off who knows where doing who knows what. He’s probably still unpacking. It’s a Sunday night, and when you decide to head back to your own apartment, Lando offers to walk you home. When you leave his house, you look up at the window in the corner from outside. The blinds are closed, but Oscar’s light is on.
…..
You quickly find out that you and Oscar must be in the same major, or at least a similar one, because you keep bumping into him during the first week of classes. The strange thing is that he doesn’t seem to notice you, or maybe it’s just that he doesn’t care to. You’re in at least three lectures with him. He barely looks at you in any of them, and never acknowledges you.
He’s just as withdrawn at the hockey house, where you spend most of your free time. He’s not mean, he’s just not exactly social, either. After the first family dinner on the day he moves in, he misses the next three, which is nearly unheard of for someone who lives in the house.
Lando seems to think it’s fine. “He’s showing up to training, he’s talking to the team, he listens to the coaches well. Maybe he’s just not a social guy.”
“Or maybe he just doesn’t like you,” Charles, the alternate captain on the team, suggests.
You glare daggers at him, reach into the mixing bowl in front of you, and lob a bit of cookie dough at his head. He dodges it with expert precision. It smacks against the wall and sticks. Damn athletes and their good reflexes.
“Hey, hey, no food fights,” Max says, having walked into the kitchen at the worst time.
He’s glaring at Lando, who throws his hands up in innocence. “It wasn’t me this time!”
Max turns to Charles, who points a finger at you. The captain gives you an exasperated look, resting his hands on the counter. He usually reserves that look for Lando, or one of his other teammates when they’re causing trouble. You hate having it directed at you.
You shrug. “He was being mean.”
“Was not!” Charles whines, and you roll your eyes at him. “All I did was suggest that maybe the reason Oscar’s quiet around her is just that he doesn’t like her.”
Max hisses through his teeth. “Charlie, that’s mean. Come on, who wouldn’t like her?”
You smile brightly. “For that, Max, you can have the first cookie.”
Max grins widely and reaches over to rub his hand against the top of your head. It’s the same way he rubs his gloves against his teammates' helmets when they’ve done well. You think it’s the only way he knows how to show affection. As he steps past you, Oscar walks into the room. You’d be worried he overheard the four of you talking, but you know he’s just arrived at home- you’d heard the sound of the front door. He greets everyone with a nod, sidesteps you, and heads for the fridge.
“Want some cookie dough, Oscar?” You ask, waiting with bated breath.
Charles narrows his eyes at you, obviously offended by your offer compared to you throwing it at his head. Lando’s watching you with amusement on his face. You want to punch both of them.
“Oh, no thanks,” he says.
He grabs a protein shake and then leaves the room again with just another nod. You pout at his back as he disappears.When you turn and look at Max, he’s giving you a solemn frown.
“We’ve found the one man immune to Bunny’s charms,” he says, shaking his head.
The cookies take a while to bake, and by the time they’re done, the house is empty. Everyone’s off at practice. You pack them up into a container, knowing if you time it right you’ll catch them on their break. Then you walk over to the rink, which is only a short distance away, cookies in one hand and a book in the other. You sit in on practices sometimes. Their coach only acts mildly annoyed about it. It usually helps when you bring baked goods along with you.
You take your usual seat down near the bench when you get there. A couple of the guys wave when they spot you. The head coach glares at you from the corner of his eye and then makes his way up into the stands, headed for you.
“Hi, Seb,” you say as you smile up at him as you take the lid off the container of cookies. “I made chocolate chip this time.”
Sebastian, or Coach Vettel, as everyone sane calls him, sighs and grins before reaching into the container. “They’re still warm!”
You nod, watching as he takes a bite. The smile stays on his face, which is a marker of a job well done. He turns over his shoulder, and you cover your ears just before he whistles to the team.
“Take a break!” He yells. “Cookies!”
Half the team scrambles over to the bench. Sebastian waves you down towards them. You follow him out of the stands and down to the bench, where Max is leaning over the wall, hands outstretched.
“I was promised the first cookie,” he says, elbowing Charles when he gets a little bit too close.
You hold the container out to him. Behind him, Oscar is face to face with the goal on the ice, shooting pucks like he doesn’t realize they’ve called for a break. Your heart sinks. Not even the cookies can make him look your way. Max catches your gaze as everyone else takes a cookie and scatters away, either to sit down or meander on the ice. He nudges his hand against your wrist and smiles softly.
“Give him time,” Max says with a shrug. “He’s trying to find his footing. Trying to prove himself. He’ll open up when he’s ready.”
You sigh heavily. “I don’t know why I care so much.”
“Because you’re a good person,” he says, and you feel your face heat up. “Because he’s new and you worry about him just like you worry about all of them. But that’s my job, too, okay? So trust me.”
You nod. He nods back. Then Lando comes barreling up, yelling something about cookies. You hand him a couple and listen to him whine about the practice as Max tries his best to keep the morale up. Behind them, Oscar shoots another puck into the net.
When they go back to practicing, you watch for a bit before you open your book. The season is ramping up, and their first game is only a few weeks away. The first practice was rough, it always is- you remember Max coming back to the house, so frustrated he wouldn’t even speak to anyone. They’re in sync now, though- passes connecting seamlessly, moving like a unit on the ice. You’ve missed it, you’ll admit. The scrape of the skates on the ice, the slap of the sticks against the pucks. When Lando asks if you’re excited for the first game, you’ll fake a yawn, just to keep his ego in check, but really, you can’t wait.
After practice is over, Lando yells up to you in the stands. “We’ll walk you home, yeah?”
You nod in agreement. You give them time to get packed up and changed and then meet them in the lobby of the rink. Slowly but surely, they all filter out. Lando’s first, hair soaking wet, and he shakes the excess water on you. Then Max and Charles, deep in a conversation you’ll never understand. George and Alex follow them out, and you peer behind them, looking for Oscar.
Max nudges you towards the door. “Oscar said not to wait for him.”
You try your best to hide the frown. Nobody but Max seems to notice, and he doesn’t point it out. He just smiles softly at you, like he’s trying to be reassuring. It works a little bit.
Your apartment is a few blocks down from the rink, sort of on the way to their house, if you don’t mind making a small detour. They always insist on walking you home, whether it’s one of them at the end of a family dinner, or a whole group on their way home from practice. Tonight, George and Alex peel off to head straight home, while Max and Lando accompany you. They’re chatting about the team, about practice, and you don’t really start paying attention until you hear them say Oscar’s name.
“I think he’s downplaying it,” Lando says, kicking a rock down the sidewalk. “I think with him, we have a real chance at the championship this year.”
Max is quiet. You know this is a sore spot for him. The team hasn’t won a championship since before Max and Lando’s freshman year. They’re seniors now. They’ve been in the playoffs every year. The championship has been just out of reach every time. They all want it so badly.
“Let him downplay it,” Max says. “Don’t put too much pressure on the guy, you know? Besides, better than him being a cocky asshole, huh?”
Lando twists his face up, but he nods. “Guess we’ll see at the game next week.”
You perk up even more at that. The first game is only days away. The whole campus is buzzing about it, yourself included.
“You’re going to be there, right?” Max asks, turning to you. “Can’t go without our resident cheerleader.”
You nod eagerly. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
You’ve reached your apartment building. They each give you quick hugs and then send you upstairs. By the time you reach your bed, you’ve forgotten all about Oscar Piastri and his unwillingness to act like you even exist. You fall asleep and dream of cookies flying across the ice rink like pucks.
…..
You don’t sleep over at Lando’s house often, preferring your own bed to the couch or the air mattress, or, god forbid, sharing a bed with Lando. The two of you are close, but never close enough to be that comfortable with cuddling, beyond long hugs when you’re feeling sad or he’s lost a game. But you’d had a movie night that went on long and when you’d fallen asleep leaning against his headboard, he’d suggested you just spend the night. Then he promptly curled up next to you and passed out.
You’d done the same, but now it’s 1am and you’re wide awake, blinking around the room. The poster the guys all tease him for stares at you from the back of the door- Lewis Hamilton, former Timberwolves prodigy and first round draft pick. It’s a bit ridiculous that he’s still got the poster, really, but you know he’s had it for years. You drag yourself out of bed and head down to the kitchen. Maybe if you can get some cold water, you’ll be able to fall back asleep.
You nearly scream when you walk into the kitchen and find that it’s not empty. Someone’s standing at the fridge, his back to you. It’s Oscar- he’s shirtless, and he turns to look over his shoulder like he knew you were coming. He probably did, you suppose- the house is old and the stairs creak, along with every other floorboard.
“Hi,” he says, quietly. You’re trying not to stare at the smooth expanse of pale skin on his back, or his toned arms. “Can’t sleep?”
You blink a few times, then take a step into the kitchen. “I was asleep. Then I woke up.”
He nods in understanding and turns back to the fridge. You watch as he pulls the pitcher out, then reaches for a glass- two glasses. Something about that makes your heart catch in your throat. You swallow the feeling down and take a few steps closer. His arm tenses as he pours the water. You’re trying not to stare, because really, it’s his kitchen and you’re an outsider here. You’ve never felt like this in this house before, so out of place. He’s the only one who makes you feel that way. You don’t think he’s even doing it on purpose. So you’re trying not to stare, and failing, because honestly, Oscar Piastri is hot. You’re only realizing it now, because you’ve been too focused on him ignoring you before this.
He clears his throat. “So. You’re not Lando’s girlfriend?”
That startles you out of your stupor. He slides the glass of water across the counter, and you step forward to grab it. You drum your nails on the granite and shake your head.
“Nope. Just friends. Strictly platonic.” You state. He raises his brows- you’re not sure what to make of that. “I know me being here at 1am sort of contradicts that, but, yeah.”
Oscar nods. “Sorry. I don’t mean to pry, I just…”
He just wants to know why you are here, if it’s not because you’re dating his teammate. He doesn’t understand. You get it. Between the nickname and your penchant for hanging out around the house and the practices, he probably does think you’re some sort of puck bunny. You fight the urge to jump to your own defense. Oscar’s given you almost nothing. You don’t owe him an explanation in return
You shrug. “It’s fine. Logan asked the same things,” you say, referring to the freshman rookie. “I promise I’m not trying to fuck all your teammates or whatever you assumed. I’m just friends with them.”
You see his whole body tense. You take a sip of your water and study his face. You can’t quite read his expression, not in the same way as you can with most of his teammates. It’s annoying that he’s so easily unknowable. He’s not even trying.
“That’s not why I asked,” he says, quietly.
You almost believe him. You would, really, if he hadn’t been so standoffish towards you for the first few weeks you’d known him. You try to remember what Max said a few days ago. He’ll open up when he’s ready. Or maybe, never at all.
You take the glass with you when you head back up to Lando’s room. “Good luck on the physics quiz tomorrow.”
He calls out a soft, “you too,” at your retreating figure.
It’s a kind gesture, but you’re definitely going to fail the quiz. He doesn’t need to know that, though.
…..
You file into your seat at the first game of the year surrounded by the smell of hot dogs and soft pretzels and cheap nacho cheese. Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, is already waiting in her spot next to yours. She’s wearing Alex’s varsity jacket. You’re clad in a hoodie you stole from the hockey house, one you’re pretty sure used to be Max’s at one point. It’s been passed down to other people so many times it doesn’t matter, now. Lily smiles at you when you sit down and tears off a chunk of her pretzel for you. You accept it gratefully. Between the pretzel, the chill in the air, and the sound of Shut Up and Dance by Walk The Moon playing in the background, you feel right at home.
The Zamboni is down on the ice, making its last round. “Did you ask Alex if we could ride the Zamboni this year?”
Lily nods. “He said ‘we’ll see’” she says, mocking his accent and letting out a puff of air. “So. We’ll see, I guess.”
You sigh heavily and lean back in your seat. You’ve been begging them to get you out on the Zamboni for years now, trying to bribe everyone from the players to the coaches. None of the bribes have worked yet. You swear you’ll get your chance one day, but this is Lando and Max’s last year. They’re your best shot- they’re the ones you’re closest with, and the most easily convinced to go along with any of your antics.
The Zamboni leaves the ice, and the players come out of the tunnel, and for the next 60 minutes-plus breaks- you’ll be glued to the game down below. It feels like the whole school has been waiting with bated breath- it’s Seb’s first year as head coach, they’ve got Oscar now, this could be the year. They could win it all. Maybe this is it. When you look over, Lily’s hands are gripping the armrests tightly. You place a hand on her wrist, just to remind her you’re there. She smiles gratefully as Alex takes his place in front of the net, and the rest of the boys take their places on the ice.
Oscar scores 30 seconds in. The two of you lose your minds in the stands, screaming your heads off. Down below, you watch Max rub his glove against Oscar’s helmet, watch the way Lando comes barreling into the younger boy from across the ice. The electricity of it crackles in the air. For the rest of the game, you can’t take your eyes off of him, off of number 81. He’s captivating.
They win with a solid 4-2 score, and the team they played is one of the easier ones, but it still feels good, and bodes well for the rest of the season. Oscar scores two of the goals. Another goes to Max, and the fourth to Charles. You and Lily head to the house before they’re even off the ice, knowing full well what’s about to come. You make quick work of clearing any breakable items from the common spaces of the house, you make sure all the bedroom doors are closed, and you remove anything they wouldn’t want stolen or spilled on- blankets, random hoodies, Charles’ entire week’s worth of homework strewn across the kitchen table. Lily pulls the mixers from the fridge, while you take the bottles of alcohol out of the cupboard. The two of you set up beer pong in the backyard together.
When the boys get home, they bring a crowd with them- the rest of the team, minus the freshmen, the team’s girlfriends and friends and some of their families, and anyone else they’ve picked up along the way. The house already feels full, and you start to usher people towards the backyard, knowing it’ll only get more crowded from here on out. Max pulls you into a hug as he slips past you on his way outside- you pass him a shot, and he smiles gratefully before he tips it back. Lando is hot on his heels, and you repeat the process. They’re freshly showered and starry eyed, riding the adrenaline high. The two of them shove at each other, and they bump into you in the process.
“Good game, boys,” you tell them, smiling brightly at your friends.
“Fucking Piastri, mate,” Lando says, snapping his fingers in a way that makes you wonder if he’s had a shot on his walk here. “I mean, come on!”
Max laughs and shakes his head. You pour another round of shots for the three of you, and Max shrugs, as if to say, why not. You tip them back and all collapse into fits of laughter afterwards.
When you look upstairs, you just barely catch sight of Oscar, disappearing into his room. He makes eye contact with you for just a second, and he smiles softly, cheeks rosy pink. You smile back, and then he turns and shuts the door behind him. It’s the last time you see him that night. The whole team is talking about him, and he’s not even there. You think that maybe you’ll never understand him. You don’t have time to worry about him, though, not when your friends are dragging you outside and begging for a round of beer pong. Oscar can take care of himself.
In the morning, you wake up on the couch in the living room. The sun is just peeking through the blinds, and you’re surrounded by empty plastic cups. Someone has tucked a blanket over you haphazardly, and there’s a hoodie shoved under your head as a makeshift pillow. Max or Charles’ doing, probably, or maybe a joint effort. It’s early, far too early, and you close your eyes to try and fall back asleep when you hear it- the noise that probably woke you up in the first place. Someone’s in the kitchen.
When you lean over the back of the couch and look through the doorway, you find Oscar. He’s surprised to see you this time, it seems- he stops in his tracks, eyes going wide. His cheeks are red, and his eyes are, too- he’s been crying. After all his pretending you don’t exist, you shouldn’t care, but the sight of him makes your heart twist in your chest.
“Hey,” you say, quietly. “You okay?”
His eyelashes flutter, and then he closes his eyes and sighs. “M’fine.”
He’s clad in a hoodie and a pair of shorts, and his running shoes. He’s carrying a water bottle, too. He probably thought he could sneak out of the house and go on a run before anyone else was awake, and that nobody would even know. But here you are. Watching him fight back tears.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” you say, quietly. “I won’t tell. I get it.”
He opens one eye and stares at you, unconvinced. You nod.
“The pressure of the first game,” you suggest. “And you won, but now the pressure’s even bigger to keep it going. And everyone is talking about you but you don’t like the spotlight.”
He nods, chewing on his lower lip. “Yeah. Exactly.”
You rest your chin on your hands on the back of the couch. “It gets easier. Promise. And the guys- they’re just happy to have you on the team. It’s not all on your shoulders.”
He lets out a little huff and rolls his aforementioned shoulders. You can tell he doesn’t believe you, and for a moment, you wonder how shitty of a team he played with before. Max’s first priority as team captain has always been making sure his teammates are okay. Winning comes second. You know it’s not always like that for other teams.
“D’you… do you wanna come on a run with me?” He asks, and you blink in surprise.
You groan and flop back down onto the couch so he can’t see the way your face twists up. You do want to, actually. This feels like an olive branch. But a run is out of the question for you based on the ache in your right knee. Your physical therapist, Lando, and Max would probably all kill you for saying yes. So you say no instead.
“Piastri, I am violently hungover and I think I fucked up my knee last night, so I think I’ll pass,” you say. You hear him walk towards the door, and when he gets there, he turns back to look at you. His cheeks are still red, but his eyes are less watery. “But have a good run, yeah?”
He smiles. “Thanks.”
You can see him through the front window as he gets ready to take off. His breath curls into misty spirals in the cold morning air, and he’s silhouetted by the morning sun. It’s a bit breathtaking, really. When he disappears from view, you close your eyes and try to go back to sleep, comforted by the thought that maybe he doesn’t hate you, after all.
find part two, Change Of Heart, here!
a/n: i know it feels a little slow rn but we had to do some intro! let me know what you think!!
main taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @ggaslyp1
series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @lightsoutletsgo
if I’ve left you off a taglist on accident please let me know!!
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strangermarvelss · 2 years
Text
strange love- e.m
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Summary: eddie has a date, with someone who isn’t you. you’re less than thrilled about it
Warnings: ANGST, jealousy, unrequited love, eddie being clueless, cursing, mentions of vomiting, me knowing nothing about D&D (i’m sorry but it deserves a warning), eventual best friends!-to-lovers!
Word Count: 4.6k
A/N: alright y’all this is the imagine i had talked about a few days ago and as someone who loves these kinds of fics, i’m quite proud of myself. also i apologize for my lack of knowledge about D&D, eddie would definitely be disappointed, but i had a friend read it over and he thinks it makes sense so we’re going with it! i hope you all enjoy :)- sava
part two
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“Well hello everybody!” Eddie exclaims, scaring half the Hellfire lunch table with his presence. You hear groans and curses fill the table as Eddie laughs at the reactions he pulled from his friends. You just sit in the seat that’s located on the left of his, laughing at his usual antics, but curiosity begins to strike when you take a look at Eddie.
His face is bright and shiny, his smile stretching from ear to ear as he sits down with his lunch, pulling out some pretzels to munch on. You take in the other details about him, how his hair looks actually kept up and how he doesn’t reek of his usual pot smell, but of…cologne? You had no idea who it was that was sitting next to you, but it sure as hell wasn’t Eddie Munson.
“What’s got you so happy today, Eds?” You ask, nudging him with your elbow. He flashes you a big smile, pretzel bits showing along with his pearly whites. He looks adorable as ever.
“Well I’m glad you asked, sweetheart. I, Eddie Munson, have a date tonight,” he announces. Your heart does a summersault at the nickname, his nickname he always uses on you, before you fully process the second part of his statement, making your breathing stop for a moment. What the fuck?
You didn’t make this fact known, but you were crushing on Eddie…hard. The two of you have been close since your middle school days, having really connected with his band Corroded Coffin playing at the school talent show and approached them afterwards to share your appreciation. It’s been history ever since.
But it wasn’t until your freshman year of high school when you started crushing on Eddie. You had been having a hard time at home due to your parents divorce, and your father winning full custody meant you moved into the same trailer park Eddie and his Uncle Wayne lived in, the two of you growing closer than before now that you only lived a few doors down. You and Eddie would spend most of your nights together anyway, and one particular night your freshman year, you felt these butterflies flutter around in your stomach as your head rested against Eddie’s shoulder watching Sleepaway Camp, your and his favorite movie that you’d watch at least once a month together. Since that day you had kept your feelings hidden from him, not wanting to ruin things between you and your best friend. You thought the pain of not having him in your life at all outweighed the pain of being stuck in love with him, and that was a fight you’d be willing to battle.
“W-what? W-with who?” You ask, trying to cover up your slight stutter with a cough.
“Okay so you remember our latest show at the Hideout? Well with more and more people starting to show up as of recently, we’ve been getting some fans. And this girl, her name is Shirley, gave me her number and I thought ‘What the hell?’ and rang her up yesterday,” he explains to you and everyone at the table, the freshman not being able to help their curious little selves. 
“That’s cool Eds,” you reply back, trying with all your willpower to remain neutral and shove the emotions you were actually feeling down deep inside.
“Yeah. We’re actually hanging out after Hellfire. She even said she might swing by, she’s been curious about the game a little. At least, that’s what she told me,” he tells you, causing you to drop your fork and look at him. He shoots you a weird expression at your reaction.
“Oops, sorry. But uh, I thought you weren’t allowing non-members into the meetings anymore?” You ask, your eyebrow raised.
“That’s true, but, as Dungeon Master, I’ll make an exception this one time. Who knows, maybe she could become an honorary member. She’s really cool, Y/N. You’d get along with her great,” he tells you as he clasps his hand on your shoulder. 
“I seriously doubt it,” you mutter lowly, hoping your close proximity to Eddie didn’t allow him to hear. As if a saving grace occurred, the lunch bell rang and you jolted up from your seat, collecting your trash. You could see Eddie eyeing you from your peripheral. One thing there is about Eddie, he’s observant as hell. You’d usually applaud and commend it, but in cases where you were trying best to hide your feelings, you absolutely hated it. Sometimes you wondered how you were able to get away with him not knowing how you truly felt, but all the more relieved that he didn’t.
“Hey sweetheart? Is everything okay?” He asks you. You quickly turn to him with a slight smile and nod, before rushing towards the trash can that sat behind him.
“Yep, all good. Just gotta go tend to some newspaper stuff. I’ll see you at Hellfire!” Your words moving as fast as your legs as you bid the table goodbye until your meeting tonight, practically sprinting towards the newspaper room, where you’d spill your feelings to one Nancy Wheeler in your secluded gossip corner.
Nancy was one of the only people who knew about your crush on Eddie. The two of you have been super close since you started high school, and even more so with all the shit that’s happened with the Upside Down that started when the two of you were sophomores. Plus, with her brother now joining the Hellfire Club, she asked you to keep an eye on him, especially with everything that’s already happened in Hawkins, but you really didn’t blame her for that.
Stumbling down the hall with your backpack sliding off your shoulders, you open the doors to the newspaper room and see Nancy’s head pop up from her collaborating with Fred. You walk down the stairs calmly while giving her a pleading look, nodding your head towards the corner the two of you have your major discussions at. She gives you a small nod before returning to her conversation with Fred.
You unpack your bag and begin working a bit on the paper while you wait for Nancy. You were trying your best to remain calm, focussing on your breathing so you didn’t get worked up more than you were when you started talking with Nancy. Your mind had a habit of working against you, running a hundred miles a minute coming up with the absolute worst scenario of every situation you encountered. You didn’t need to be thinking doubtfully about your friendship with Eddie, but you physically couldn’t help it.
How could Eddie have a date with someone and not tell you sooner?
The two of you were best friends, he always told you when something great happens to him immediately after, and you do the same with him. Living just a few doors down, you had that luxury of always being near the person when you celebrate your wins, or comfort one another in your losses. So him keeping this from you until the next day? It definitely hurt, in more ways then one, and you didn’t quite understand it. Would you still be upset about it? Absolutely, so that bit didn’t matter much. You just wanted to know why. Why he’s choosing to date someone now, after being single for so long. Why he-
“Hey, I’m here. Sorry, I was working with Fred on the basketball story,” Nancy tells you, pulling you out of your zoned-out state.
“No worries,” you say, your voice residing somewhere distant. You feel a slight kick come from under the desk, prompting you to look down for a second, before bringing your eyes up to see Nancy, who shoots you a look of concern. Nancy too, was very observant, from what you’ve seen over your friendship the past three, nearly four, years. The people you surrounded yourself with the most were some of the most observant people in Hawkins, which was both a blessing and a curse. You sigh, turning slightly closer to her, ready to confess.
“Eddie has a date tonight,” you whisper softly. You watch her jaw open, as shocked as you were. At least, hoping in the same sense that you were, and not in a negative way. You never really knew about Nancy’s stance on Eddie, whether she liked him or not. The way you talk about him all the time you would think she’d be sick of it all, but never stopped you from spilling your secrets out to her.
“No way! With who?” She whisper-yells, scooting closer to you. You watch over her shoulder at Fred and some others looking your way, so you fake working on a spread, signaling Nancy to do the same.
“Some girl that came to their gig at the Hideout on Tuesday. I didn’t see it so it must’ve been when I went to the bathroom,” you continue to tell her while fake focusing on the piece of paper in front of you. Your entire demeanor suddenly became deflated, saying it aloud and hearing it from yourself. All becoming so real.
“That’s crazy. Are you okay, Y/N?”
“No, but what can I do about it? He and I aren’t dating, so I have no room to say who he can or can’t date,” you answer. You peak over at her and see her looking you dead in the eye, to which you couldn’t blame her. Even you didn’t believe what you were saying.
“Yeah, I know. He said she might stop by Hellfire, and, Nance, I have no idea how I’m supposed to get through the meeting tonight if she’s there,” you tell her. She reaches out and squeezes your hand and you give her a tight-lipped smile. 
“Hey, if you think it’ll help, I can pick you up from Hellfire tonight and we can chill at my house for a sleepover. Junk food, distractions…I can even invite Robin and see if she’ll pick up some tapes after her shift at Family Video tonight,” Nancy suggests. You eyes widen in excitement and nod, truly needed a night where you don’t talk or think about Eddie. Just a night with your girls.
“That would honestly be the best, thank you Nance,” you tell her. She flashes a warm smile your way and scoots a bit away from you.
“Perfect. I’ll pick you and Mike up at 9 after I get Robin from her shift, if she’s free. It’ll be fun,” you tells you. You agree and continue working on your spread, excitement flowing through your body at the thought of a fun night ahead, even with the dread buried in the pit of your stomach at the thought seeing Eddie tonight at Hellfire with a woman at his side. A woman that wasn’t you.
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Running down the halls and towards the room behind the theater, you look at your watch and try to pick up the pace. You had lost track of time in your efforts in avoiding Eddie by doodling some drawings in the sketchbook that you kept on you at all times, which in turn made you late to Hellfire, something you never did. But in your defense, you usually had Eddie giving you a ride to and from the meetings. Today was not like the rest. Walking through the threshold of the meeting room, you give yourself a few moments to catch your breath.
“Sorry I’m late, I-“ you began to say, but were interrupted by giggling coming from Eddie’s throne. You see a girl with strappy heels and a short, short dress leaning against it playing with Eddie’s brunette fringey curls. That must be Shirley.
“Oh good, you’re here. We almost started without you,” Dustin exclaims, his goofy smile appearing on his face.
“Yeah, I doubt it,” you tell him, throwing your bag in the seat closest to him and ruffling his hair, him protesting and swatting at you in return. You notice out of the corner of your eye Eddie giving you a confused look, then looking towards your usual seat, which remained empty. It was no secret that you had your own seat in Hellfire, right next to the Dungeon Master himself, but today, you knew it was best to keep your distance. Didn’t want to interfere with his date and all. 
“Alright, now that everyone’s here,” Eddie pauses, giving you a look. You chose to just look at the table in front you to avoid eye contact. “Lets start.”
Dustin is the first to roll the dice, and everyone around watches as the campaign for the week begins. You try your best to pay attention to the game in front of you, but keep getting distracted by the amount of giggling coming from Eddie’s throne, due to himself and Shirley. They were acting like those couples you and Eddie would make fun of in the halls that were practically fucking in the halls of Hawkins High, and you’d always make fake sick sounds as you passed by them. Now that he’s acting those same people right in front of you and the rest of the club, you felt yourself growing sick, for real this time. 
You stood to the side as you watched Shirley climb in Eddie’s lap, draping herself all over him and her lips ghosting over his ears as she whispers little things in his ears, and the reactions he gives to her words make you want to punch a wall. Not in anger, but in jealous. The green eyed monster had awoken inside you, and you felt yourself getting riled up at the thought of them continuing this act throughout the rest of the meeting. The worst part of it all? You knew this isn’t where the night ended for them, and you could only imagine what other kinds of plans they had up their sleeves.
“Y/N, you’re up,” Mike whispers to you, snapping you out of your small jealousy-induced trance. You take the dice from Gareth and shake the dice in your cold hands a few times, before tossing them on the table.
6.
You didn’t have enough health to pull any big moves. No luck to play the hero tonight. You sigh and slump your shoulders as the rest of the group lets out an annoyed groan. You were completely off your game for the night and you knew with how observant the club was, they could tell. But luckily for you, they didn’t press you about any issues you may be having. 
“What’s your move, Lady Y/N?” Eddie asks you, his smug look making your skin crawl. Usually his dramatics during the game always wowed you and you’d join in, but it was hard to take in anything he was saying or doing with the leech that was attached to his hip.
“I…retreat,” you say, taking a step back from the table and Mike is quick to take the dice and roll for himself in order to save the campaign. You walk over to the seat you set your stuff in and take the sketchbook out you’d been busy with before the meeting and begin to draw.
“Do you know where the closest bathroom is, rockstar?” you hear Shirley ask. You mentally groan.
“Sure thing. Y/N, can you show her where it is?” Eddie asks, turning to you. You place your sketchbook back in your bag and stand from your chair. Flashing Eddie a fake smile, you nod and begin to walk towards the door, the sound of Shirley’s heels clicking behind you filling your ears.
The halls are quiet as you make your way to the bathroom around the corner. 
“So you and Eddie, you’re best friends right?” Shirley asks you as you continue your journey to the bathroom.
“Yep, since middle school,” you answer.
“Oh that’s cool! I’m gonna be honest, I was a little worried when Eddie told me he had a girl best friend. I always think guy girl friendships are weird and don’t last. They usually always end up dating in the end or ending the friendship because one likes the other, and the other doesn’t feel the same way. At least, that’s how I see them,” she rambles. You slowly nod and point out the bathroom, her thanking you and doing a fake little run inside.
Pressing your back against the wall outside the bathroom, you can’t help but think on the words she said, the thoughts of you and Eddie ending your friendship lingering and seeping into every fiber of your body. It’s the exact reason you kept your feelings deep down and hidden, but would that work out in the end? Are you putting yourself through the pain and heartache for nothing?
The bathroom doors opens once more and she comes out.
“Thanks for waiting for me. I’m really excited to hangout with Eddie after your club ends,” she tells you. 
“What exactly do you two have planned?” You ask, your curiosity getting the best of you. Part of you didn’t want to know, but your brain was screaming at you to find out.
“Nothing special. We’re gonna go back to his place and hangout, maybe smoke some. He also mentioned something about watching a movie…Sleepaway Camp? Have you heard of it?”
You froze.
Did she really just say that?
She stops and turns to you, giving you a look of concern. You felt the world around you starting to spin, the feelings from everything starting to come up.
“I-um, I’m sorry, but I-I’m not feeling too great right now. The theater’s in there, but I’m gonna go outside and get some air. C-Can you tell someone to bring my stuff out to me when everything ends?” You ask, your voice shaking as you lean against the wall for support. She gives you a nod and scurries inside the theater, leaving you to bolt out the doors of the school and towards the parking lot. 
You bent over and held onto the railing by the stairs that spilled out into the parking lot, convincing yourself you needed to wretch. The feelings clouding your brain were mixed, swirling together in a nasty mixture that you weren’t sure how you’d describe to Nancy and Robin. The feels of hate and sadness blurring the lines and becoming one as you stood outside, wishing you had your jacket to protect your from the harmful feelings and the cool March temperature. 
Sitting on the stairs with no luck on spewing your guts out, you let out a sigh and hug yourself in a pathetic attempt to warm up a bit. Your body grew cold rather easily, something that was always an issue, but the solution, or rather the two, were inside. You kept your jacket on you at all times, even despite the temperature being hot, because you never know when you might need it. In the event you forgot your jacket, Eddie would either lend you one of his, or just wrap himself around you, rubbing your arms with his big ring-clad hands to get you in a good place. You always welcomed that comfort. It felt nice being so close to him, even if he may not feel the same.
Your pity party is interrupted by a car pulling into the lot and parking right by the stairs. As the window rolls down, you see Robin pop her head out in a cheerful manner, but soon her features soften when she takes in your sour expression and sad body language. 
“What happened?” Nancy asks from the driver seat. You rise to your feet with a sigh and walk over to the car, leaning inside through the window.
“More like what didn’t happen,” you respond, shaking your head and shrugging. 
“Did that girl show up? Nancy filled me in on everything when she picked me up, so I have a ton of movie choices for tonight,” Robin rambles.
“Yeah she showed up. And they were being gross and lovey-dovey all night. Made me want to puke,” you explain. You feel Robin’s hand touch yours in an attempt to comfort you, to which you place your other hand on top of hers and give it a pat.
“And what prompted you to be out here instead of inside?” Nancy asks. 
“Well first off-“ you begin, but hear laughter coming from behind you as the school doors open. You turn and see everyone laughing and walking together, the meeting drawing to an end for the week and you let out a soft sigh. Everyone goes in different directions, with Jeff, Gareth, and Dustin going off in one direction, Eddie and Shirley going towards their van, and Lucas and Mike coming towards you guys. Mike nor Lucas had your bag in their hands, which made you worried that you’d have to go all weekend without your supplies and homework.
“Wait, Y/N, where’s your stuff?” Robin asks. You shrug your shoulders and turn to the side, Eddie standing by Nancy’s car. You see his unreadable demeanor comes closer to you, his eyes fixed on yours as he holds out your bag to you. Taking it, you sling it over your shoulder and slide over as he kept walking closer to the window you once hung out of.
“Wheeler, you might if I borrow Y/N for a sec before you take off?” He asks. You watch Nancy nod and Eddie leads you over away from her car, out of ear shot of both Nancy and that crew, and Shirley, who’s waiting at Eddie’s van. You both just look at each other for a moment, you not really knowing what to say.
“Thanks for grabbing my-“
“What’d I do?” He asks you, his voice sounding neutral. You look towards the ground and swing back and forth on your feet for a moment, trying to think of a reasonable excuse for your behavior today.
“Nothing,” you reply, your eyes glued to the ground.
“You can’t even look at me, Y/N,” he says, looking down to try and catch your eyes. You let out a huff and look back up at him, trying to get this conversation over with, which was something you never wished with Eddie.
“There’s nothing wrong, okay? I promise,” you tell him. Now it was his turn to huff, added with a kick to the ground. You could see that you’re irritating him, and if you were him, you’d be irritated as well. But today was not your day, you just needed time away from him and try to bury the feelings you had towards him even further down. Take the weekend and recoup. Not to mention, his date was merely a hundred feet away and waiting for him to go back to your place and watch a movie together. Your guys’ movie.
“Y/N, please, I know you better than anyone. Can you please ju-“
“Eds! Are we going soon?” Shirley yelled from the van.
Ouch.
She just used your signature nickname for him.
What else did they plan on taking from you today?
“Soon sweetheart, I promise,” Eddie yelled back.
Double ouch.
Now he was using your signature nickname.
“You know what Eddie, just go, she’s waiting on you. Have fun watching Sleepaway Camp,” you tell him. Shit, why’d you just say that.
Your mind was starting to think before your mouth, the feelings that have been brewing the entire day bubbling to the surface and taking over the part of your brain that had rational thinking. That green-eyed monster was started to show her true colors. You turn on your heel and begin to take off towards Nancy’s car, when you feel Eddie grasp your wrist, stopping you.
“Wait, Y/N, how’d you know we were watching Sleepaway Camp? Did she tell you that?” He asks. You sigh and shift towards him.
“Yeah, we talked in the hall. But it’s not big deal Eddie, just go,” you say, not understanding why he was so determined to make things right between the two of you right now? Yeah, the two of you hated leaving things in a bad place, but you never pressed him about anything he was super upset about or just didn’t feel like talking about, and usually he was the same with you. Maybe today was not destined to be in the cards for you after all.
“You’re jealous,” he says matter-of-factly. You scoff and cross your arms, trying to add another layer of defense between you and your fragile heart that was about to break loose with all these feelings. You were starting to lose your resolve, and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to hold yourself together.
“I am not jealous!”
“You are totally jealous! Jealous that I’m spending time with someone, a girl, who isn’t you. Don’t worry, Y/N, you aren’t being replaced, I’ll always make time for you,” he tells you, thinking he’s helped, when really, it only hurt more. Like he thought he’d have to pencil you into his life.
“It’s not that Eds-“ you begin to say, but his laugh cuts you off.
“Then what is it then? You mad you don’t have a ride? Or-or-or upset that we’re watching Sleepaway Camp?” he pesters you. You could feel yourself getting really worked up and uncomfortable, wanting to just jet off to Nancy’s car and ride far away from this conversation.
“Oh wait, do you like me or something Is that it? Do you have a big ol’ crush on me?” He asks mockingly, making you freeze. “Just tell me what’s wrong Y/N, please.”
You hesitate.
Fuck.
You. Fucking. Hesitate.
“N-no, I don’t have a crush on you,” you say, brushing it off with a weak laugh. You see Eddie himself freeze, looking at you with a deadpan expression. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Wait, Y/N…you have a crush on me?” he asks. That was definitely an understatement. You swallow down a breath that wasn’t able to escape, your body beginning to shake in fear.
You see the way his entire demeanor changed when he realized. The dramatics you so desperately loved stopped all together, replacing it with a scared look. Scared that it’s true and he had to let you down? Scared that he didn’t feel the same way? Scared it was you, of all people? That familiar feeling of wanting to throw your guts up began to boil in the pit of your stomach, your chest tightening as you continued to stare Eddie down like a dear caught in headlights, the silence booming throughout the parking lot. You couldn’t handle this, not tonight. You’ve already had the shittiest day possible, you need to escape before you lose your best friend forever.
You take off in the opposite direction, towards Nancy’s car as you hear Eddie calling after you. The tears were brimming your eyelids, desperate to fall and let every emotion you’ve been bottling up all day to come out in a flood. You open the car door and hop inside, practically shoving Mike in the middle.
“Drive Nance,” you say, shooting them a pleading look.
“Wait, Y/N, what happened?” Robin asks.
“Nancy, can you please drive away, now,” your voice raising as you plead. Nancy responds by changing the gear and stomping her foot on the gas pedal, making your escape out of the parking lot and away from Eddie Munson, who you can see still standing in the empty lot watching you leave. You let out a shaky breath as you turn and face out the window, hot tears rolling down your cheeks and sobs racking your body as you all make the journey to the Wheeler’s house.
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fernshawart · 2 years
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How to write a cane user character
(Written by a cane user)
A few months ago, I wrote a small guide on good disabled characters and why they were good that gathered quite the attention, and I thought that doing another more specific guide this time would be interesting for writers or just people that are curious ! This guide will include general informations, some things to do, some things to avoid and some ideas that might revolve cane users's lives.
Things to know about cane users
Cane users are pretty diverse, and putting us in little boxes usually isn't the best idea if you want to make a character that has substance and isn't just "the disabled one". Here some infos about cane users that might be helpful knowledge !
Canes don't have ages. Most cane users in media are portrayed to be old, but truly, anyone can have the need to wield a cane ! I've been using mine ever since I was 17.
Can users can have a large variety of problems for their canes. Some canes are used to avoid pain from effort. Some canes are used for balance purposes. Some canes are to make walking less exhausting (works the same as walking sticks !) And sometimes, it's multiple problems at once.
Not everyone needs their cane 24/7. Some always need it, some can make small efforts without it but overall often need it, and some people, like me, can spend quite a lot of time without it. I almost never use my cane in my house, and mostly take it outside !
People with canes can run. We're not necessarily slow, I'm even faster than a lot of my friends.
Not using a cane can come with consequences, but not always. Some people might be able to walk without a cane but then suffer horrible consequences, but for others, canes are just a commodity for specific occasions.
Canes don't have to be looked down upon. Look at some characters with canes that look cool as hell ! Arsène Lupin, Roguefort Cookie, Brook ... Their canes serve their style !
We can be pretty healthy. Some people can have canes just because they were born with a bent leg and that's it. Our cane doesn't define our health status.
Canes aren't a curse. Think of them as something positive. It's a tool to make our lives better. You don't see someone sitting on a chair and think "awh, it's sad that they need a chair". It's more something like "hey it's cool that this chair is here so they can sit down"
Things to do
Make them use their cane. And when I mean use, I mean that canes are just funky long sticks usually made out of metal. Have fun with it ! Let them use it as a weapon ! Trust me, one hit in the knees with a cane and you're DOWN. Use it to reach stuff that's too high for everyone ! Have fun. Be creative.
Let them decorate their cane. It's an extension of their body ! You usually put on clothes that you like, don't you ? It's the same for a cane. If they like cutesy stuff, let them paint in it pastel colors ! If they like a more flashy style, add some stickers on it ! If they're a fancy person, give them a beautiful crafted cane with jewels on it !
You can make them a little shy or uneasy about their cane. Some people don't feel worthy of confident enough to wield one. It's not rare to see people think they're "not disabled enough to do so"
But on the other hand, you can do the complete opposite !! Make them proud of that cane ! Make them act like they're feeling pretty and more confident with it ! One thing i like to think about with my own cane is that I look like a cool gentleman. That boosted my confidence immensely.
Things to avoid
Don't make it their whole world. And by that, I do not mean that their cane shouldn't be a defining trait of their personality. Think of Toph from ATLA. She is blind, and you usually can't think of her character without describing her as blind. However, that isn't her entire personality trait. Make cane users have a goal in life, friends who enjoy them for who they are and not just pity them, have fun ... Don't just make them the disabled one.
Don't try to make the character's life just a plain disaster unless it's the focus of your story and you really know what you're talking about. Having a character who's always in pain, who feels bad about relying on their cane and/or who's angry at the entire world for being disabled is a REALLY tricky subject to use if you don't want them to be either a mass of unhappiness and angst for no good reason or some inspirational porn of the character who inside is deeply tortured but outside keeps up a facade because they shouldn't cry to avoid making others uneasy.
Do not, and I repeat, do NOT try to heal them, especially in a magical way. Bad idea. A lot of disabled people's goal isn't to be healed. It's to live a normal life. Making it so the ultimate goal for them is to be healed makes it as if they were worthless as long as they were disabled. Making their situation better physically or mentally is one thing. Curing them completely is really bad. "But some disabled folks want to be cured !" True, true. But if you are able bodied, I'm not sure if you can have the right mind to understand all of the complex details about this situation that leads to someone's life choices and the end result may look like you think the only thing that can make disabled people happy is being freed from their condition. I think it's best to just avoid it altogether. If you need a more nuanced idea, try to give them a solution that still has a few downs ! For exemple, a prosthetic that feels like a real arm, acts like a real arm and basically replaces it perfectly is a full cure. But a prosthetic that takes time to adjust to, needs repairs sometimes and doesn't look 100% like an arm can be a better narrative choice
Smaller thing, but don't make the handle uneasy to wield if you draw the character design. You can decorate most of the cane, but if you have chunky spiky decorations on the place you're supposed to clench your hand over, you're gonna hurt yourself. I've seen quite a lot of jewel handles or sculpted metal handles and usually their not good. If it's detailed metal, your hand will end up cramped in little parts and it can hurt. If it's a jewel, it's so easy for it to slip out of your hand it's unpractical.
List of tropes/ideas of scenes/details about canes to help you write new situations !
If you walk with a cane during winter, you can't put your hand in your jacket to get warm and there's a high chance your hand will get freezing. So after a long walk, you get an excuse for another character to hold their hand and warm them up.
If the handle is metallic, you get the opposite problem during summer. You can burn yourself so easy ! Easy accident if you want someone to help and get closer to the disabled person without it necessarily involving their disability.
Canes are SUPER useful when you're walking upon heights. They make things really easy, just like hiking poles on mountains ! I live on volcanoes and whenever we clim on a harsh slope, I'm always the first to get up there. Good moment for your character to get a boost of confidence if they get all the way up somewhere before their friends !
The first time using your cane feels magical. If you have chronic pains, it makes you feel like your pain disapear. If you can't walk right, it feels like everything is suddenly alright. The moment where a character chooses to wield a cane can be huge for character development. It's a moment of fear because of the impact a cane has on their appearance, but also a moment of confidence and relief.
Canes fall. All the time. And after a while, it becomes fucking comical. Trust me, putting a cane against the wall, seeing it fall and doing it three times again in a row while it doesn't want to stay up makes you embarrassed but also makes you want to laugh because of how stupid it looks.
When you get a cane, you stop being invisible. When you walk outside, generally speaking, people don't look at you. They don't care about you. But when you get a cane, people start to stare at you for no other reasons that you have a cane. Half of them are just curious, especially if you're young. The other half has a very specific look. The "oh, you poor thing" look. Which is, trust me, particularly awful to get, especially when you're just existing and doing nothing special. How does your character react to this ? How do they feel about it ?
I believe that is all I had in mind. I may add some more details in the future if I get other ideas, but this should already be a good start. I would be thrilled to answer questions if you have some, either in my askbox or through DMs.
I will tag this post with characters holding canes that aren't necessarily considered cane users but that some people may be interested in writing as such. Feel free to tell me if you'd like to see tags being added !
Edit : I'm highly encouraging everyone to look at the tag section under this post where a lot of other can users are sharing their experiences !!
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