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kyu-piddy · 23 days ago

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New Year’s Kiss

An: Happy new year everyone! Exams are kicking my butt, so I haven’t been able to write much. Even so, here’s a little something to celebrate the beginning of 2025!

Gn reader x nrc students (minus Ortho)

Words: 5.3k words

Tw: None

The clock strikes midnight, the new year commences, and the man you secretly love stands in front of you.

Eyes locked and heart in your mouth, seconds pass in silence…

Ace

Ace’s mouth quirks into a little smirk.

“I know you’re just dying to kiss me, Prefect.”

His jeering tone is contrasted by the heat climbing up from his neck to his cheeks, hand on the back of his head.

“Maybe you’re the one dying to kiss me, Ace.”

His false confidence crumbles, his gaze faltering to the ground.

“Maybe… Just maybe, I do.”

The festivities around you continue, but time stands still as you take a step forward, so uncertain in your certainty.

As your faces are merely inches from each other, you stop, sudden shame coloring your mind.

Before you can put much more thought into it, Ace leans forward and steals a kiss.

Soft and brief, he quickly pulls away, turning his head around just as quickly.

“The others are probably looking for us. Let’s go.”

He starts walking fast, bashfulness leading his feet, but passion leading his heart, and hand, to yours.

Deuce

Deuce seems momentarily lost, briefly fleeting from confused to bashful, before setting into a serious expression, resolute on whatever his mind has decided.

“Prefect, there’s this new years tradition I’d really like to try.”

His practiced speech stops midway, loosing himself in your inquisite eyes.

Murmuring something to himself, he throws himself forward, grabbing your hands with his, a violently soft prayer of acceptance.

“I really want to kiss you!”

You blink stupidly back at him.

He takes a step back, a dejected look on his face.

“Only if you want to, of course. I’d never want to force you.”

Grabbing his tie, you shut him up with a kiss.

He freezes, insecurities of a first kiss clouding his judgement, but slowly and surely melts into it.

Cater

“Happy new year! Since I found you first, you have to give me a big ol smooch.”

You roll your eyes, but nevertheless lean into his face, landing a soft kiss on his plush cheek, small specks of glitter reflecting the low lights of the room.

“Happy now?” you ask, a small smile on your face not reflected in your heart.

Cater puts on a pondering face, finger tapping on his chin, pensative gaze staring straight through you.

“Uhmm… Not really, no.”

He chirps, and his airy smile drops, replaced by a surprisingly serious look.

“I want a real kiss,___.”

“Cater, don’t play around! I swear, it’s too early in the year for a magicam challenge.”

You playfully slap his arm, a chance for him to grab it and pull you close, his other arm resting on your lower waist.

“I don’t always play around, you know?”

Releasing your arm, he leads his hand to the back of your head.

The sparkles on his cheeks are the last thing you see before you’re engulfed in a fiery kiss, one that you’ll remember forever.

Trey

“The mess after this party is going to be immense. I pity whoever will have to clean it.”

“Thankfully it isn’t us! I can already imagine the hours it would take to clean the stains of that carpet.”

Trey is extremely good at small talk, and soon enough the moment dissolves like morning dew.

You can’t help but pity it, cursing your own innactiveness.

Warm eyes inspect you without you noticing, critical but not antagonizing, waiting for an opening.

Then, something clicks.

“Prefect, I think I saw something in your teeth.”

“What!” You let out a gasp of embarrassment, hand shooting up to hide your momentary blemish.

“Now, let me see.”

He moves close to your face, slowly unpeeling your hand of your face.

“Open your mouth, please.”

He orders politely, not leaving you any choice.

You comply, his hand on your chin, and after a quick inspection, Trey speaks up.

“It seems I was mistaken. Apologies, Prefect.”

You close your mouth, but before you can thank him something warm graces your lips.

Bashfully, you close your eyes, his lips on yours like heaven.

His tongue slithers between your lips, exploring every crevice of your mouth, memorizing them.

Treys warm lips leave yours, a cheeky grin replacing his former expression.

“Now I’m completely sure there’s nothing there. Thank you for collaborating.”

You give him an annoyed look and he merely chuckles in response.

Riddle

“Riddle, did you know there’s a New Years tradition of kissing someone at midnight?”

You ask, breaching the silence.

“I have heard of it. Mother always said it was a glorified disease spreader.”

He answers matter of factly, and you feel yourself deflating.

“Is that so.”

More silence. You shuffle your feet around, unsure on how to proceed.

As the seconds pass by, midnight and one minute inches closer.

“Please do not participate in such an activity, Prefect.”

You feel exasperation boiling over, like a petulant child being told by their parents what not to do.

“Why not, Riddle?! If you don’t want to, why shouldn’t I go find someone who wants!”

Riddles eyes widen, his face exploding in a fiery red color.

He clears his throat, doing his best to look you in the eye.

“You’re right, Prefect. I can’t tell you what to do. I just… I wouldn’t want you to do such a thing with someone else because I want to be the one that you… that you kiss.”

An exasperated plea, love and desperation coating his unsure voice.

You feel your heart drop to your stomach, thump thumping louder each time.

“Would you do the honor of letting me kiss you?”

Riddle asks, a wish and a request all at once.

“There’s no else I’d rather do it with.”

Even if midnight had already passed, Riddle and you still shared a New Years kiss, tinted with the flavor of strawberries.

Jack

“Prefect, you’re hurt.”

You looked down at your ankle, a bitter red pulsating under the supple skin.

“It’s fine. I think I just tripped earlier. Don’t worry about it.”

You smile at him winningly, but his worries are not soothed by your words.

Your feet are pulled out of the ground, a small gasp escaping your lips, as Jack picks you up.

He carries you to a small room and sits you down on a chair, unbothered by your flustered opinion.

“There’s a first aid kit here. Take off your shoe and give me your foot.”

You comply, even as redness creeps up and stains your feautures.

Jack starts applying some sort of cold cream, and then fixes you up with bandages, his hands unexpectedly tender despite their rough exterior.

“Thank you, Jack. I feel much better.”

“Good.”

He answers almost disinterestedly, his soft smile letting his true feelings shine.

“Sorry for making you miss the best part of new years.”

Your voice fails you as your mind scrambles to find the right words.

“I want to make it up to you.”

Slowly, very slowly, you approach his face, gauging his expression.

It remains painfully unmoving, but his tail waggers behind him, giving you all the confidence you need.

Lips on lips, gently like a flowers touch, you don’t let yourself get too carried away.

“We should probably go back.”

You comment.

He nods his head, a dust of pink gracing his cheeks, as he once again swoops you off the ground, his tail wagging the only assurance you need.

Ruggie

You feel your pocket rustling as Ruggie walks past you, too quick for you to catch up to him.

Rummaging through said pocket, you find your phone missing.

“Ruggie, come back!”

Perusing the room with your eyes like a detective inspecting the scene of a crime, you spot his tail peeking from behind a door.

Running as best as you can through the crowd of intermingling bodies, you reach the door and quickly slip in.

The room you slip into is empty and slightly dusty, unknown to the partygoers.

“Ruggie, where are you?! I saw you come here.”

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, warm and soft palms blocking your line of sight and reason.

“Caught ya. Shishishi.”

He laughs lightly near your ear, the baby hairs on your neck standing on edge.

“Can I have my phone back now?”

He laughs again.

“You can. But I have a price.”

His hands slid away from your eyes, and you turned around to him.

“Close your eyes, and you’ll get your phone back.”

Cheeks flaring up, you complied.

But instead of the cold metal of the phone sliding into your pocket, you felt the warm breath of the one you had long pinned for against your face.

And in no time at all, his lips on yours.

Leona

Leona’s languid gaze swept through your body, resting upon your face in the end, a lazy smirk pulling at the edge of his lips.

“Isn’t there something you should be doing, herbivore?”

“Getting more fruit punch? I definitely should be doing that.”

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?”

His words made butterflies flutter in your stomach and your heart skip a beat, but your face remained calm and composed.

You would make him break first in this long lasting dance of yours.

Suddenly, he got close. Much too close, as your back hit the wall, one of his arms caging you in.

“Little herbivore, you can keep running and hiding, but sooner or later you’ll have to give in.”

You mulled over his words, a coy look decorating your face, innocence disguising your true intentions.

“If you’re not going to stop me, why should I? Maybe if I ask Malleus-”

Your words were cut off by his mouth on yours, a ferocious and heated kiss, his taste and smell invading your senses until you could no longer remember anything else.

“Are you going to ask that stupid lizard now?” he breathed out in bettwen kisses.

“Never.” you answered, pulling him closer by his collar.

Azul

“Ah, dear Prefect. Are you enjoying the Mostro Lounge new year party?”

He curtsied you with his hat, a perfect old timey gentleman.

“Indeed, I am. I wonder how this party has all my favourites coicidentally. Favorite beverage, favorite food, even my favourite color is part of the main decorations.”

You made sure to give him a significant look, his gaze unfaltering under your scrutiny.

“What interesting coincidences, aren’t they?”

His smile never faltered, ever so politely fake.

“Our vip lounge has some extra festivities that could be to your interest. Perhaps could I escort you there?”

“No, thank you. I’d rather go back to my friends.”

His smile fell momentarily, a shocked look on his face quickly covered by his suave persona.

“But I insist, Prefect.”

“And I insist on no. I have to go.”

Making your way through the room, you counted down from five in your head.

As it reached one, the twins appeared in the corner of your eye, turning into a makeshift wall, stopping you in your tracks.

“Heyaaaa, Shrympy. You have to go back to Azul, or he’ll surely blow a fuse.”

“That’s right, our esteemed guest. Our dear Azul is waiting for you.”

“Then tell him to come get me himself.”

The twins look at each other before swiftly dispersing.

In seconds, Azul appears, looking slightly frazzled.

“So dear Azul, did I ruin your perfect plan for new years? Let me guess, you wanted to take me to the vip lounge, butter me up, and then kiss me?”

Undeciferable emotions pass through his eyes like a carrousel as you simply smile at him mischievously.

His mouth moved, something about to be said, but you didn’t let him, kissing him before a sound could be uttered, and breaking away even faster, quickly shuffling away to the table where your friends sat, but not before saying one last thing.

“Happy new year, Azul. Let’s hope next year you can kiss me for a change.”

Jade

“Jade, there’s a strange mushroom in my glass.”

Jade smiled widely at you, eyes closed and hands politely folded.

“Is it so, now? May I see it?”

Handing him your cup, he observed the floating little fungi.

“Oh, dear. I’m not quite sure, but if this mushroom is the one I believe it is, it isn’t toxic per say, but it has serious side effects, such as vomiting and rashes.”

You raised one of your brows at him, his impassive face unfaltering.

“How could such a mushroom end up in the drink of a client at a restaurant? Seems very unlikely.”

“Unlikely but not impossible. Certain students of this school are known for their mischievous streak. But for now, what matters most is helping our esteemed customer.”

“And how can you help me?”

His eyes opened, he stared at you with his menacing smile, teeth barred for all to see.

“Thankfully, it is very simple. The victim of the mushroom must simply have the toxin extracted from the zone in the body where it went into contact with.”

“Right. And how do you do that?”

“A simple suction motion can do the trick.”

“Really, now? Then in other words I have to ask someone to suck on my lips?”

“If it is the mushroom with those side effects, yes. It could also be a completely normal mushroom.”

You felt like rolling your eyes at him, his obvious stunt endearingly annoying.

“Okay. Then suck it out of my lips.”

Your direct answer didn’t seem to faze him as he leaned into you, slightly sucking on your lips.

Heat crept up to your face, his lips becoming warmer and warmer against yours.

“Uhmm, I’m not quite sure if it is that mushroom after all. Maybe it’s another one. I’ll have to test it to be sure.”

You went to grab your cup again to show him the mushroom again, but he held your cheeks with his hand and kissed you, properly, this time.

His tongue licked the bottom of your lips, and finding your teeth pliant, delved deeper, tasting all it could.

As he pulled back, you asked him.

“What mushroom is it after all?”

“Just a normal mushroom used for cooking.”

With a little smirk, he answered, and leaned again to kiss you.

Floyd

“Shrimpy, Shrimpy, if you don’t kiss me right now I’m going to squeeze your dumb friends reallll hard.”

Floyd’s burning gaze flustered you harder than any of his words, leaving your brain to catch up to your ears.

“You are not doing that! And I am not kissing you under a threat!”

You argued back at him, watching his face turn from a pearly white grin to pouty.

“Come on, Shrimpyyyyy. It’s a tradition on land to kiss someone on new years and I wanna do it.”

“Then go do it with someone else.”

You replied, cheeks flaming at the idea, but to proud to go back on your words.

His pout deepened, and he raised his arms.

“You’re so cruel. I don’t want to kiss anyone else! I want to kiss you, ___.”

The sentence starts airy and whiny, childlike even, but ends with a poignant seriousness that makes your eyes meet his.

“Kiss me. And only me.”

He orders, hand on your shoulder.

You furrow your brows at him.

“Only if you ask politely.”

He ponders your words, but does not heed them, leaning into you and stealing a chaste kiss before running away.

“Hey! Get back here!”

You run after him, but his gigantic legs and lanky build let him get away, as he shouts in a sing-songy voice.

“Shrimpys kiss is mine!”

Kalim

“So I was there, in my potions class, and then this frog flew into my cauldron and-”

You sighed, Kalim’s mouth running wild as he kept telling you stories of his day to day.

Normally, you’d enjoy his jovial and light conversation, but right now you expected a little bit more.

“Oh gosh, look at the time! It’s past midnight!” He comments excitedly.

“The fireworks are starting right about now! Let’s go, Prefect!”

On the balcony of Kalims room, you stand side by side observing the fire works, their light illuminating the night sky and reflecting in your eyes.

You shyly try to take his hand, but he is to busy gesticulating them around, pointing to each image produced by the fireworks with such wonder as if he had never seen them.

As the show draws to a close, he finally turns fully to you, eyes filled with happiness and a desire to please.

“Did you enjoy it? Don’t you think it was just the most amazing firework show you have ever seen!”

You smiled at him, but no answer could be given, as the carpet beneath you both flew from underneath you, sending you both crashing down onto the ground.

Something soft hit your lips, and you opened your eyes to Kalims lips on yours.

He quickly leaned back, red covering his face.

“Oh my… that was nice, wasn’t it?”

“I think so too.”

You answered, still a bit dazed, the full brunt of the embarrassment not yet settled in.

“Can I do it again?”

Your eyes widened at his direct request, heart flying out of your chest.

“You can.”

Beneath the star lit sky, you kissed as many times as the stars would let you.

Jamil

“Are you still busy with Kalim?”

You asked, crossing your fingers in hope that Jamil could be yours, even if for just a minute.

“I’m afraid so. Kalim wanted to try a new drink, so I had to go prepare it.”

He gestured to the tray in his hand with his head, face umbetraying of any emotion.

Your own wasn’t so lucky, as you visibly deflated.

“Sorry to bother you then. I’ll go back to the refreshments table.”

Giving him a small smile, you started walking away.

His hand reached out, softly gripping yours.

“Give me a minute.”

You nodded, and watched as his back disappeared into the crow.

The sound of fireworks could be heard all around, overpowering any other noise, all the guests surrounding the windows and filling the balconies in hope of catching the best view, while you waited in the back.

As minutes ticked by, your hope depleted and your frown returned.

But your smile blossomed as you saw Jamil returning.

“I apologize for making you wait. Kalim wanted some more pillows.”

You held his hands on your own, softly brushing your thumb against the back.

“It’s fine. As long as I can steal you for just a bit.”

Silence reined bettwen you both, as the fire works raged on.

Soft gazes and tender hearts, you leaned closer and so did he, and sooner rather than later the silence was filled with a kiss.

Vil

“Dear, your makeup is smudged.”

Your eyes widened, searching for the nearest mirror.

“Where?! I swear, it must have been Ace with his stupid prank! I’m going to kill him!”

Taking a hand mirror out of his bag, Vil held it out for you to use.

“Thank you so much. I completely forgot mine!”

Seating on a random chair nearby, you started reapplying your eyeliner.

Vil watched you from the back, his reflection in the pocket mirror, even though small, imposing.

“I see you used the makeup I recommended. You sure do look splendid, my dear.”

“A compliment from you, Vil? My, I feel touched!”

You jested, a small laugh escaping the man behind you.

“I sure hope you do. I don’t hand out compliments that easily. Only to those who deserve it.”

His reflection in the mirror gets bigger as he keeps approaching you from the back, strands of blond hair draping over your shoulder.

“Turn to me. Let me help you with your lipstick.”

Face turned to the side, he felt even closer, amethyst eyes piercing through you and your makeup.

“Such a beautiful shade, isn’t it?”

“I think so too. And it barely stains, too!”

“I know, dear. But sometimes products are a little faulty and should be tested.”

His lips meet yours before you can even understand what’s going on.

Soft and fragrant, he moves away much too quickly, your head following his, even though you’re not connected anymore.

He laughs softly, a delicate and musical sound.

“So? Did it stain?”

You basfully inspect his lips, his makeup as pristine as if freshly put on.

“No. I don’t think so, at least.”

“Then shall we test it again? Any good products mustn’t be tested just once.”

“Of course.”

Your face flushes at his proposition, betraying you amd your willingness.

Vil doesn’t seem to mind, leaning down again and stealing another chaste kiss, and then another, and then another, until you can draw the shape of his lips with your heart.

Rook

“Ah, my little trickster! Enjoying the anne noveau? It’s a truly joyous ocassion!”

You smiled at Rook’s dramatics, deciding to humor him.

“And why is it so joyous?”

A mysterious glint lit up his eyes, mischievously charming.

“There’s this little traditión that certain people partake in during this occasion. A new years kiss. Have you heard of it?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Who knows?”

You smile at him, mischievously coy, playing around with your drink like one who isn’t quite sure how to answer.

“My little trickster, how you tempt me so.”

Using his thumb and pointer, he takes a hold of your chin delicately possessive of a prize that is not yet his.

“This temptation you have laid upon me, won’t you help me satiate it? Let this curiosity of mine rest?”

Your heart beats rapidly, bravado gone as your gaze was forced to battle with his, an evergreen intensity that made you crumble.

“Since it’s also a curiosity of mine… I’ll let you.”

His mischievous smile widened, and with unexpected ferociousness, locked his lips with yours.

His hot mouth felt like a burning inferno, burning you up from the inside and leaving you wanting for more, needing him more.

As you tried to deepen the kiss, he leaned back, perching a finger on your lips.

“Not now, my ___. Let’s wait a little while longer, shall we?”

Epel

Epel shuffled awkwardly in front of you, his fancy clothing clashing with his dour expression.

“What’s up, dude? You look way too sour. Did Vil make you wear that fancy suit?”

“Yeah. I look like some sorta fancy pastry with too much frostin’.”

You giggled at his words, shaking your head.

“I think you look rather nice. But you can always shed the tie if it’s really bothering you.”

“That’s a darn fine idea.”

He quickly shoves the tie down his pocket, visibly relaxing.

“Better?”

“Couldn’t be better. I can finally move freely! Thanks! I owe ya one.”

He moves away, as if to go back to the dancefloor but turns back and runs towards you.

“To hell with it!” you hear him mutter, before bashing his lips onto yours, pure drive behind his every move.

He pulls back, eyes wide and breathing erratically, surprise by actions of his own doing.

“You’re redder than an apple.” he comments, still looking bewildered.

“So are you.”

“Guess we matchin’ then.”

He smiles, all teeth and small dimples, and you smile back.

Idia

The beeps and boops of Idia’s phone were the only noises made from either of you, the tall man hunched over on the floor, back to the wall, like a child hiding from his parents.

“Aren’t you going to go celebrate the new years with everyone?”

Without taking his gaze from the screen he answers matter of factly.

“Nah. Gotta grind for the new years event. Gachas can totally bs with their event requirements.”

“Okay then.”

You kept your back to the wall, staring into the crowd up ahead, a pang of sadness weighting you down.

“Big Brother!” chirped a happy voice.

“And Prefect! Happy new year!”

Ortho beamed happily, circling you both excitedly like a little rabbit jumping around.

“Big brother, have you given ___ the kiss of new years yet?”

Idia’s fingers stop for the first time in the night, a red game over flashing on his screen.

“New years kiss?” you ask gently.

“Yes, Prefect. Big brother said it’s a quintessential part of any romance anime that has a new years episode! The epitome of end of season drama. So, has big brother kissed you yet?”

Said big brother is slowly slipping further and further down, glueing himself to the floor, fiery pink hair licking at your feet.

“Not yet, Ortho. But don’t worry about it. I’ll help him with it, ok?”

Ortho nodded and merrily skipped away, leaving you with his distraught older brother.

Crouching down, you got your face in front of his, his eyes closed shut.

“Am I getting my kiss now?”

He groaned loudly, slightly opening one eye to peek at you.

“This is not fair. You know my weak point. It’s cheating!”

You giggled at his conundrum, bending down to close the final space left bettwen you two, giving him a little peck on the lips.

“Next year, you give me the new years kiss alright?”

Groaning, he turned to the side and curled into a ball, slowly nodding his head.

Malleus

“I finally found you, Tsunotaoru!”

The tall fae stood in the middle of a lonely balcony, his only companion the smiling moon.

“Child of man. You have come to visit me?”

He asked, joy and sadness laced onto every word.

“Of course I have. It’s new years after all. And no one likes to spend new years alone.”

“That I do believe to be true. Sadly, there are too many years and not enough people to spend them with.”

Malleus longingly observed the moon, heavy fog of uneasiness seeping through the balcony.

You approached him, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

“One day, only that moon will still be here with me. And even she mocks my plight, smiling radiantly upon any who walk below her.”

Stroaking his arm gently, you spoke softly, barely above a whisper.

“Perhaps that is a good thing. Perhaps one day, when the moon is the only that remains and she smiles at you, you’ll see the smile of everyone who used to smile at her too.”

Finally, he turned to you, holding your hand with a feather like touch.

“I quite like that sentiment, child of man. Even so, at least for tonight, I don’t wish to share with the moon. Tonight, shan’t you be only mine?”

A soft smile bloomed on your lips, your free hand caressing his face.

“Tonight, and forever.”

“Forever.”

His plush lips slotted perfectly onto yours, a warm kiss to truly last forever under the moonlight.

Silver

“Silver, wake up! It’s midnight!”

The silver haired man asleep on your shoulder remained so, the ruckus of the festivities almost like a lullaby to his tired mind.

“Oh, please, Silver!”

You shook him vigorously, and he finally awoke, startled.

“Prefect? Have I fallen asleep again?”

He looks around, in an unbotheredly lost way only someone who is used to falling asleep everywhere can have.

“Yeah, you did. And you missed the new years!”

“That’s fine. Every year there’s a new one. Besides, this year I have a higher priority.”

You raised a brow.

“A… higher priority?”

He nodded assertively.

“Father told me about this “new years kiss” tradition, and as such”- he got down on one knee in front of you, head bowed- “___, would you give me the honor of being my new year’s kiss?”

You stared at him, baffled and more than a bit unsure on how to react.

“Please get of the floor, Silver.”

“Is that a no?”

“I didn’t say that. I… I accept it.”

You feel your cheeks heat up as your almost sworn knight gets up from the floor and takes your hand in his.

“You’re rather beautiful,___.”

Face hot and stomach twirling, you can’t help but look away from his eyes.

“Please just kiss me already.”

“Of course.”

Closing his eyes, he gently presses his lips against yours, before promptly falling asleep on top of you.

You sigh, letting the man rest. Next year you’d get back at him.

Sebek

“HUMAN. HAVE YOU SEEN LORD MALLEUS! I WISH TO BE THE FIRST TO WISH HIM A HAPPY NEW YEAR.”

Sebeks voice boomed in your ear, and you feel the moment slip from your fingers like sand.

Annoyance creeps onto your voice and face, and you can’t help but shout back.

“I DON'T KNOW AND I DON'T CARE! LIKE YOU DON'T SEEM TO CARE ABOUT ANY OTHER PEOPLE! DON'T YOU HAVE FRIENDS TO THINK ABOUT?! OR EVEN… me?”

Anger leaves your voice, and only sadness and solitude remain.

Sebeks shocked face reflects in your eyes, tears welling up and forming a cristaline pool.

“Go find your lord or whatever. I’ll find someone else to spend my new years with.”

You run away from him, hiding in a dimly lit room, tears falling down your cheeks and staining the floor.

Some time passes, and someone knocks on the door before bursting in.

“HUMAN I- I have come to apologize. My behaviour was unbecoming and I’d…”

His whole face was flushed red, as he tried to get his next words out.

He adjusted his posture, standing straight and then bending down, in a perfect 90 degree angle.

“I would thourogly enjoy spending new years with you, if you would like!”

A smile creeps onto your face as you dry your tears with the back of your hand.

“Sebek?”

“YE-Ahem, yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you.

“WHAT?!”

You threw yourself at his arms, letting them surround you and hold you as you bash your lips onto his.

He shyly returns, unsure of what to do.

“Stay with me tonight?”

You ask, unsure.

“As long as you’ll have me, I’ll stay.”

Lilia

“Young ___, enjoying the new year celebration ?”

Hearing him call you “young”, felt like a stab to the heart.

Lilia always seemed to see you as much too young, much to green, to ever see you as more.

“Yeah. I am. What about you?”

He smiled gently, swirling his glass.

“The new year is a time of change, supposedly. Of growth. But an old man like me can’t do much of those things anymore.”

He sipped on his glass, unbothered by the implications of his words.

“That’s not true. No matter your age, you can always change. Hopefully for the better! Besides, you aren’t that old, Lilia.”

A depressed smile decorates his feautures as he turns to you, so different from his mischievous ones you’re used to seeing.

“ What if I told you I was indeed that old, ___? Would you still want to stay here in hopes of a new years kiss? Of a romance with a fool long past his prime?”

Your eyes widen at his serious tone, no bitterness or happiness in it, nothing at all, just truly neutral questions.

Even so, you felt your conviction solidify.

“If the self proclaimed fool past his prime would at least entertain the idea of me actually being in love with him, he could believe me when I say, I want only you.”

A small incredulous laugh escapes the man by your side.

“Perhaps I should entertain that idea.”

“Not perhaps. You really should.”

You stare at him resolutely, his smile morphing into one of his familiar mischievous ones you liked so much.

“If that is the case, first I have to get a taste.”

In the blink of an eye, he had his lips on yours, warm and softly aggressive, his fangs perfurating your lips and leaving tiny dots of red blood behind.

The metallic taste lingered in your mouth even as he retreated.

“You taste rather appetizingly, ___.”

Your blood colors your cheeks as well as your lips, the perpetrator of both fixing a hair of yours behind your ear, blissfully aware of your bashfulness.

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eternalfics · 1 year ago

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…… saiki as your boyfriend !! +

warnings: adorable fluff !!

a/n: I just found this in my drafts- it’s okay because saiki is life 😊

saiki kusuo x gn reader

KUSUO SAIKI, who does everything intimate in front of teruhashi. you wouldn’t mind would you? head ruffles? check. kisses on cheek? mmm.. maybe not. he thought it was a bit embarrassing to be doing this in public, but seeing your suprised face and hearing teruhashi’s dark thoughts? it’s definitely work it.

KUSUO SAIKI, who immediately calls you after seeing a huge cockroach in the kitchen!!

“Kusuo, are you okay?!” you responded the call immediately, after seeing his alarming texts

“There’s a cock roach in the kitchen.”

“…”

not to mention you giggling in the background.

KUSUO SAIKI, who brings you to cafe dates, blessing you with his adorable face after taking a bite of coffee jelly! oh your cake is getting cold? no worries, you’ll bring home and heat it up later. for now let’s just have some very casual eye contact.

KUSUO SAIKI, who’s mother absolutely adores you, ohh her ku is growing up so fast!! she always invite you for dinner. if you decline she always makes sure you go home with a pot of food. sigh.. kusuo thinks he’s getting a headache already.

KUSUO SAIKI, who likes getting held when he’s overwhelmed. sometimes, the voices get too much for him and he just wants some love and care from his partner, maybe he’s going to rest his eyes for a little bit..

KUSUO SAIKI, who does not allow you two to go to bed angry. at first, if your angry, he’s approaches you slowly, as if your going to bite him anytime. he hugs you from behind, and rest his head on your neck, he’s giving you a choice to push him away or let him stay. eventually, you push the angry away, have a big ol’ smooch then cuddle on the couch, or on his bed.

however if it’s him who’s angry, ohhoho your in for a ride 💀. theres literally four levels of grief you have to get through.. 😭

KUSUO SAIKI, who would hit you with a basketball if he could, but he wouldn’t for two reasons. ☝️: he can’t control his powers, ✌️: he loves you, he wouldn’t say it but he definitely shows it. even if it means wanting to punch a wall after having an argument with you, it’s okay because he loves you 😊

#kusuo saiki #saiki x reader #saiki x y/n #saiki x you #saiki k #saiki k x reader #saiki fluff #saiki kusuo fluff #the disasterous life of saiki k #kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #Kusuo saiki x y/n #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki kusuo x you #saiki kusuo x gn!reader #saiki kusuo x female!reader #saiki kusuo x male!reader

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stardust9905 · 2 years ago

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To Echo: *mwah* *pat-pat*

Echo has always given me puppy vibes, and it’s entirely bc of his eyes. I mean, look at how big those irises are compared to the others! 🥺 🐶

#the bad batch #I wanna give him head pats and forehead smooches #echo my cutie-patootie #thoughts #big-ole-eyesss #👁👄👁

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banquetwriter · 2 months ago

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Viktor x Reader with some kissing head cannons? Wanted to request something but wasn’t sure what haha 😁

AN: i’m happy to oblige !! hope i meet expectations <33

viktor hasn’t had a whole lot of dating experience in his life, to him of course this is rather embarrassing and something he doesn’t not flaunt around

you of course could care less, he doesn’t judge you for your past dating history now does he? so that fateful night when both of you have made the lab a drinking area he finally has the courage to kiss you

and yeah it’s a bit sloppy, and it’s clear he maybe hasn’t done this a lot but there is this underlying need in his kiss. the way his hand reaches out for you desperately.

reality strikes the poor boy realizing he JUST KISSED YOU. AHHHH!! he immediately retracts his face and his hand trying to see what your reaction is and since your so down bad for this man your just 🖤^🖤

he is insecure and probably over thinks the fuck out of this ordeal, so he stands up grabbing his crutch and accepting you did not want this. “i am so sorry… this was unprofessional-“ he says looking to see the several empty bottles of booze between you two.

god how could be so stupid? and ofc you shut this idea down like that. “viktor your drunk- i don’t want you falling getting home please just let me help you-“ and he sorta drunkenly breaks down.

since that moment the two of you share something super special, as far as kisses however he gets more confident.

he isn’t big on pda i don’t think so in public it’s just the sneaky cheek or forehead kiss. alone however he gets more confidence to kiss you.

his slender fingers wrapping around your throat or making there way to your hair. his mouth consuming yours. he just devours you.

viktor’s disability can sometimes pose a challenge when it comes to being intimate, you never let him feel bad for it ofc but he is limited in what he can do to you.

kisses is not one of those things. he absolutely peppers your face and body in them. he uses them to completely break down your resolve. teasing you until endlessly.

his kisses can be deep and romantic or sloppy and needy- he is only a man after all. he can communicate just with a kiss. leaning up from his work station as you visit to bring him dinner, it says he is grateful and he is sorry for being with you.

when he makes a break through in his hextech research and he pulls you in wrapping you up with a big ol’ smooch on the lips.

this is not as cohesive as i wanted it to be but trust me this man is whipped for you and kissing is something he can do with no injury of himself so trust he will be doing it

#viktor x y/n #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x you #viktor lol #viktor league of legends #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor machine herald #viktor headcannons

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kquil · 11 months ago

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REMUS LUPIN | NOT SO SECRET ADMIRER PRT.3

REQUEST : hii! i jus wanted to know if your remus lupin, “not so secret admirer” was gonna continue with more than two parts? i’m really enjoying the story 😽 ⏤requested by anon

TAGS. : casanova remus makes an appearance ; good news for reader ; date at the three broomsticks ; oversized sweater sharing moment ; remus is a gentleman ; most of the time ; he's so dreamy ; and flirty ; and a tease! ; you're too cute for him ; he thinks you're absolutely precious! ; lowkey idiots in love ; it's finally happening! ; you both have an effect on each other ; making it official hehe~ ; final part~

LENGTH : 1.8k

← PART ONE | PART TWO

Sirius whistles a sharp, short tune and wiggles his brows at Remus, “look over there, Moony~” Sirius sings as he gestures towards you from across the field, “your missus wants you to go over and give her a big ol’ smooch,”

“Shut up, Padfoot,” Remus laughs and playfully hits his best friend on the shoulder as he passes him on his way to you. He doesn’t care much for all the teasing; he’s been counting the days, and now, he’s counting his steps —the closer he gets to you, he starts to run. Remus doesn’t care if he looks stupid or overly eager, not when you’re smiling at him so beautifully; he wants to see you smiling from closer up. Just as he’s a few meters away, he hears you call out to him and his heart threatens to beat out of his chest.

“I got top marks!”

From where they were scattered around at the base of the ancient tree arching over the black lake, the Marauders eye their tall, love struck friend as he runs to you with, suddenly, open arms.

“Looks as happy as a Niffler with all that treasure in his arms,” James laughs as their rambunctious group grins, snickering at the sight before them. Remus shouts in joy, his elation heard from across the field as he picks you up by the waist, only to pull you close moments later for a prolonged embrace. The sight warmed their hearts despite their determination in denying it.

“He should really just kiss ‘er already,” Peter whines, his impatience drawing more snickers from two of his best friends.

“You read my mind, Wormtail,” Sirius laughs, throwing his arm across his ratty friend’s shoulders, “wanna place your bets on when he’ll finally grow the balls to kiss ‘er?” all the boys share a wide grin and start placing their bets, Peter offering his treasured sweets, James, his full allowance for Hogsmeade weekend and Sirius, his recently concocted potion for a devious prank.

“You sound like you’ve run a marathon to get here,” Remus throws his head back slightly, eyes shining with fondness as he lovingly caresses your warm cheek with the back of his hand.

“I—” you take a moment to catch your breath, giggling briefly from your own embarrassment but the warmth ins chestnut-brown eyes calmed you down, “I thought you were in the library,”

Remus’ brows fly to his hairline from surprise as you hide your face in his sweater; a feeble attempt at sheltering away your sheepishness. You had been running about Hogwarts castle for him? The tall brunette doesn’t know whether he should laugh in good humour or kiss you stupid.

The urge to kiss you was undeniable, however. Especially when you were being so adorable, hiding your sweet face in his chest like that. His long arms wrap around you, pressing you further into his warmth and comforting scent. The motion makes you sigh dreamily only to stutter when you feel a soft pair of lips press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Congratulations…” his soft, deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. The sentiment was whispered with such sincerity, it made you swoon. Only you were allowed to hear his praise and your entire form lifted like a weightless cloud. You felt floaty and light. You want him to praise you more, you want him to kiss you more too. The last time he kissed you was the day before your exam - it was torture waiting for your exam to get marked. But he made the wait worth it, “How about that date? Huh?”

Pulling away, you tilt your chin to peer up at him with a timid flutter of your lashes, “I was promised a butterbeer too…”

The mix of your mischief and undeniable cuteness had Remus’ heart racing a mile a second; he couldn’t help but release the tension in a short laugh, “you can have as many butterbeers as you want!”

Hogsmeade weekend couldn’t come sooner enough. However, as soon as the awaited date had arrived, your excitement was turned into dread. An entire afternoon spent with Remus. You can imagine yourself already making a mess of things and, knowing how clumsy you get when you’re nervous, you’re sure it isn’t long before you’re tripping over air and making a spectacle of yourself.

“Easy there,” Remus coos at you softly when you jump in surprise from his sudden actions, “sorry about that but you were shaking like an autumn leaf, sweetheart,” he flashes you an apologetic smile before his expression melts into adoration at the sight of you in his oversized grandpa sweater, “is that better?”

You manage a timid nod, avoiding his beautiful eyes as you slip your arms into place, adoring the familiar comfort the warmth and smell of his sweater brought you. It was ridiculous. You were being ridiculous. This was Remus; he wouldn’t do anything to make you feel bad or embarrassed just because of a silly mistake. You peek up at him from beneath the cover of your lashes. He’s so tall and handsome and just so… perfect. A gentle giant, topped with messy brown hair, soft eyes and covered in mysterious, faded scars but remains ever kind. This is why you fell for him, why he has such an effect on your heart, why he has such a pull on your entire being. He is safety and comfort and love all moulded into the beautiful gentleman that he is.

With a surge of bravery, you inch closer and closer to your Hogsmeade date’s side until you’re practically pressed into him. Remus smiles at you but tries to hide away his blushing cheeks by keeping his gaze forward as he leads you down the path to the Three Broomsticks. It isn’t until he feels your small, soft hand slip into his much larger one that he finally glances down at you. The two of you meet eyes once more before you’re hiding your embarrassment away by burrowing your face into his bicep.

For the love of Merlin, could you stop being so lovable and precious?! Girls like you were his number one weakness — you were going to kill him at this rate!

“If you keep at this cuteness act, I’ll have no choice but to wrap you up in my arms and run back to the castle so I can have you to myself forever, little dove,”

Was he just playing around or was he being serious?

You look up and stare into his eyes — you couldn’t quite tell…

As promised Remus treated you to as many butterbeers as you wanted, not that you wanted much anyway. Not only that but the butterbeer does a good job of warming you up and you didn’t fancy having to take off Remus’ generously offered sweater so you’ll stick to your second butterbeer for now.

“Are you sure you don’t want anymore? I did make a promise,” Remus urges gently but when you politely shake your head ‘no’ and wrap your arms around yourself to burrow your nose under the stretched out collar of his sweater, he instantly knew your reasoning. You make it so easy to fall in love with you, “Is there something else you’d like then? Maybe a dessert? I don’t feel like I’ve rewarded you enough for a job well done on that test,”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you blurt out, “Being with you is reward enough,”

…did you think he was joking when he told you his intentions on the way here?

“I wasn’t joking, little dove,” he hears you softly hum in curiosity, asking him to elaborate, “I will keep you all to myself if you don’t stop being so adorable,”

“I-I don’t mean to—” he laughs at your flustered state and picks up your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“I. Don’t. Care,” it was a threat but one that was lovingly spoken into your skin as he kept your hand raised to his lips. Your eyes meet his over the bumps and grooves of your knuckles. He was being very sincere.

“…how—“ you hesitate, biting your lip and avoiding his eyes momentarily, “how about a compromise?…” bargaining for your freedom — this wasn’t something you expected the afternoon to turn into. Nevertheless, you’re willing to play along, bearing in mind the serious undertones of your conversation.

“I’m listening,” he hums and he almost sounds like he’s purring; a familiar glint of mischief reflecting in his eyes as he focuses his gaze onto your hand. You watch as he admires the way his fingers interlock with yours, forming an intimate hold where his larger hand appears to devour your smaller one. He looks into your eyes again, a small prompt asking you to continue with the proposal.

“How about we promise to see each other every day at lunch?”

“Not good enough,”

You nibble on your bottom lip and miss Remus’ lingering stare, “breakfast and lunch?”

“Still not good enough,” he’s smiling —no, he’s smirking at you. What happened to your gentle giant?! He’s supposed to be kind and sweet, not a tease! You’re dangerously close to having a heart attack and he’s showing no mercy!

“D-dinner too, then?”

“Your suggestions are not satisfactory,“ his words are that of a professional, “and I’m getting very impatient, my dear,” you’re speechless as he holds up your hand and rolls the long sleeve of his sweater down your arm, exposing your skin where he begins to pepper a light trail of kisses down.

In between your flustered state and racing mind, you don’t know how your panic managed to translate your thoughts so articulately, “How could I possible work out a compromise with you then?!”

“You’re a smart girl, you know what I want,”

“No, I—”

“What I want is what you want…”

His words make you pause. For a moment, you can hear nothing but your racing heart pumping blood past your ears, see nothing but Remus’ smirking lips and piercing brown eyes, feel nothing but his lips on the skin of your arm, taste nothing but the lingering alcohol on your tongue. It takes one big inhale to muster up enough courage, furthered by your earlier two frothing tankards of butterbeer, “be my boyfriend then…” you sound like a shy but demanding, spoiled child. One that Remus would happily pamper to your heart’s content.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, sweetheart,” his kind smile makes your heart race and an elated grin slowly grows on your lips before he’s leaning across the table at lightening speed, your hand still held captive in his, “Lets seal it with a kiss, shall we?”

You expected him to kiss your forehead. But no. No, this kiss was so much better.

He tastes like chocolate and buttery, foaming beer.

A/N : Goodness did this take a long time, im so sorry my darlings! i don’t know why i consistently kept getting writers block when it came to writing this fic. i think it’s partially to do with the fact that i never really intended to continue the original timestamp hehe~ nevertheless, it’s here and i hope you darlings enjoyed the read!

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @fallencrescentmoon @topaz125 @xxrougefangxx @starchaser-lily @probablypossesedbysatan @agent-tempest @veryberryjelly @th3-st4r-gur1 @sousydive @rosalyn-s @thelastbrainceliishere @littleshadow17 @b-i-h-i @babiely @nickkie99 @hehehhehexd @imdoingbetternow @regulusblacksposts @nicassie @lovelyygirl8 @onedaysoonyoullsee @jennieasfrance @onlyfredslibrary @soradragon @idli-dosa-reblogs @remusparkers

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders #marauders era #remus john lupin #marauders #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fluff #remus x you #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fic #marauders imagine

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bratbby333 · 9 months ago

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oh em GEEEE IMAGINE GAMER BF SUKUNA WANTING TO PLAY MINECRAFT W YOU BUT HES STUBBORN SO HE DOESNT ADMIT IT BUT YOU CATCH HIM PLAYING BY HIMSELF ON HIS OWN PC AND YOU TEASE HIM SAYING HE COULDVE JUST ASKED 💔💔💔💔💔

gamer!bf sukuna fluff—sfw !! cw: language. smau + blurb

with a quick kiss on your forehead, sukuna informs you he’s running competitive games on COD for a cash prize and emphasizes that he needs you to leave him alone so he can focus. god, he can be such a diva.

you’ve been curled up on the couch for an hour or so, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. sukuna is holed up in the office, most likely talking shit and being a menace online.

a brief yell echoes through your apartment, followed by a quick slam of his fists against his desk.

“im done with this shit,” he exclaims, most likely quitting the game he was in. it seems he didn’t win his competition.

you giggle to yourself, shaking your head. you find it amusing how angry he gets during his games. but, you do feel a bit bad that he lost, so you decide to invite him to a voice call on discord.

as you navigate to your private chat with him, you watch as his status changes from “playing COD” to…wait. that can’t be right…minecraft? no way. that’s impossible.

you give it 30 minutes to see if it was just an accidental click. when you check back, his status remains the same.

you smirk as you open up your messages, eager to see if he’ll confess.

you giggle to yourself as you stand from the couch, taking quick steps down the hall.

as you push open the office door, a cheeky grin can’t help but pull at your cheeks as you approach him.

you join him at the desk, taking a seat in front of your monitor. “you’re so stubborn, ya know that?”

“i told you not to speak of this ever again,” he muttered, aimlessly walking around minecraft as he waits for your computer to boot up.

“lemme just hear you say it,” you tease.

“say what?” he asks, turning to face you, a look of annoyance on his face at your adamance to continue this conversation.

“you like minecraft,” you replied simply, raising your eyebrows. “just admit it and i’ll never say another word.”

he stared at your for a minute, his jaw clenching and unclenching. with a heavy sigh, he turns back to his monitor, grumbling an almost inaudible, “i like minecraft,” with a roll of his eyes.

but it’s a lie. a dirty little secret. he doesn’t just like it, he loves it. he especially loves how happy you get when the two of you play together, as much as he tries to deny it.

the two of you spend the next three hours running around minecraft. sukuna is clearly enjoying himself, though you can tell he’s attempting to hide it with an abrupt clear of his throat or a quick cough to cover up his laughter.

a warm feeling spins around your stomach, giggling as you watch him fight back a persistent smile the entire time.

an: thank you for your request my sweet anon. this was adorable.

i really want to start doing smau’s ugh they’re just so cute and fun to make. i have a full-length fic coming up that incorporates them into the story!! this is my way of experimenting w that format…please let me know what you think! in a way, i feel like it makes the story more real.

thank you for all your support 🥺🫶🏼 i wanna give every single one of yall a big ole smooch on the forehead

my asks are always open. don’t be shy, drop a suggestion, send feedback, leave a request, or just come say hello! i love talking to yall 💛

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated !!

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luvvyouforever · 4 months ago

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show me what you got - logan howlett {wolverine} x reader

synopsis: logan and reader very clearly want each other, but neither will make a move. a certain plan sets that in action.

content: NSFW! minors dni. yearning. horny. rambling. logan being nervous. afab reader.

a/n: i don't really know where i was going with this. i was also kinda picturing cartoon x men living situation here! def not very canon compliant. but enjoy!

his breath is hot, ragged, and full of expletives slipping between his lips with every thrust. sweat beads around his hairline, drips down his temple, and leaves the prettiest shine on his tan skin. his hair is tousled, he's shirtless, and his muscles are tense beneath his skin.

"oh my god, lift up your jaw. i know he's hot but you're gonna swallow flies that way, hun."

rogue's voice enters your dazed reverie and brings you back into the reality: a sweaty gym in the x-men mansion. logan, only twenty feet in front of you, pulls on the handles of a machine set to the highest weight possible that pulls him forward and backward. it's supposed to work out his back, or maybe his chest, or maybe his arms. either way, it's sinful and becoming increasingly difficult to tear your eyes away.

he continues to grunt on the machine and you wonder if he's doing it on purpose when rogue speaks up again. "you need to do something about this."

you let out a laugh that's just a bit too loud and draws some of the eyes of the other x-men working out. red heat crawls up your neck and to your cheeks where it settles into a blush. turning around to face the other side of the gym, you whisper, "and what exactly am i supposed to do here?"

"i don't know. corner him, give him a big ol' smooch, and the rest will be history," rogue pauses. "i think. i'm not the best person to ask here," she says with a gesture to her gloved hands.

when you feel the heat leave your face, you turn back around to see that logan had moved from the original offending machine to an even more intolerable workout: bench presses. with urgent movements, you take rogue over to the yoga mats and begin your own personalized workout, all the while she laughs at your obvious and ever-growing frustration.

𝜗𝜚

logan wonders what it would be like to be standing behind you, pressed dangerously close to your backside as you bend over and place yourself into some yoga position he never bothered to learn the name of. the workout clothes you're wearing have always got under his skin and he knows this time is no different. he barely thinks about the weight of the bar he's lifting up and down as he watches your body flex into a position that places your body in such a divine arch he wishes he could be drawing out of you.

"not you too," gambit's voice comes from behind logan where he uselessly spots him. suddenly, logan falters with his grip on the bar and rather than let it fall on top of him, he sends it to the other side of the bench, just a few feet from where scott was doing squats with some fancy weights logan never bothered with.

"what do you mean 'not you too?'" logan questions.

gambit shakes his head and sits on the bench next to the one they were currently working out on. he fiddles with a card he seemed to pull out of nowhere, but logan ignored it. "gambit means that you two need to find a closet and get it over with."

logan huffs and shakes his head. "i dunno what you're talking about, cajun."

his eyes float back to your frame on the other side of the gym. much to his chagrin, you stopped your own workout and stretching in favor of assisting rogue into a complex position that was sure to send gambit to her side once the workout had come to a close. the words 'not you too' floated through his head once more and he turned to interrogate gambit once more only to find him moving on to another set in front of the mirror.

with a final glance back to you, he found you looking at him as well. briefly, your eyes met each other across the room then immediately went to the floor, pretending that the specks of dust were unbelievably interesting.

𝜗𝜚

charles believed that despite the mutations and responsibilities and missions, it was important for the x-men to have some kind of normalcy which led to frequent movie nights or parties or game nights. more often than not, logan spent those inside or sitting in a chair directly away from the other x-men. there was no particular reason, he was just always like that. solitary.

unfortunately, something seemed to be different for this particular movie night. when he arrived to the home theater in the basement of the mansion, every single seat was taken by one of the other x-men. the only other person who hadn't arrived was you.

his eyes fell to the loveseat that was empty toward the back of the room, where rarely any light except for the screen fell. he could hear an almost undetectable giggle come from rogue on the other side of the room and he knew something was up. had these not been unspokenly required, he would have turned around with the excuse of...something.

just as he climbed the few short steps to the loveseat and sat down, you walked in. his breath hitched in his throat at the sight of you. a thin and old pajama top which hung off your shoulders at an angle adorned your top half while the bottom half was covered in pants that fell at your hips and hugged your legs as they went down. somehow this was worse than tight workout clothes.

just as he did, your eyes scanned the room for a seat before finding that the only one available was the other half of the loveseat that logan's body was currently occupying. without much thinking, your eyes flew to rogue who shrugged her shoulders despite you feeling as though this was planned.

with every inch you grew closer to being so close to logan, your heart rate increased, as did your nervousness. awkwardly, you sat down by him and could instantly feel the similar pulling in your chest that you felt when standing too close to him. the way his t-shirt hugged his chest and contoured to the fine muscles made you blink too fast.

once everyone was fully settled, charles put a movie on, something you didn't really remember the plot of, and with maximum effort, you kept your eyes glued to the screen.

logan did not have as easy of a time as you did. perhaps it was the way his senses were so increased from yours that you could barely keep still. it was either your thigh touching his own or your sweet smell infiltrating his nose or the way you couldn't hold your laughter at certain jokes in the movie which echoed through his ears into his mind. it was unbearable.

suddenly feeling eyes on him, his head whipped to the other side where gambit's eyes would flit to him every so often. when they made eye contact, gambit's eyebrow raised, which suggested the question to logan, "so?"

he shook his head to which gambit smiled, tilted his head to signal to your body next to his, and made some obscene gesture that had rogue smacking his hands down to his lap. logan sighed, shook his head, and returned his gaze back to the movie. he couldn't ignore it this time.

𝜗𝜚

once the movie ended, everyone retreated back to their respective spaces, except logan who lingered around the mansion. going back to his bedroom didn't feel favorable. after spending so long alive, chasing after what he wanted, he felt stupid letting you continue to walk past him, in the clothes that made him frustrated with a personality that melted his heart. he didn't want to go back into his bedroom where he would more than likely jerk off to thoughts of you so perfect they could become painful. he would have a dream about you, wake up wondering if today is the day he kisses you finally, then look at you at the breakfast table and know that this wasn't the day.

before he could stop his own body, his legs took him up the stairs toward your bedroom at the end of the hallway.

you hadn't been doing anything after the movie except for thinking of the way your thigh was touching logan's and his breath was deep and he was warm and a strong presence next to your frame. with nothing on but a yellow lamp, you reached over to your bedside drawer before a knock echoed through the room.

with a huff, you rose up and went over to the door. when you opened up, you could've jumped back in surprise at the figure on the other side of the door. logan was standing in the same t-shirt and sweatpants as earlier, but this time he looked slightly disheveled, like he had been running his hands through his hair.

"hey, logan," you said hesitantly.

suddenly, he regretted coming to your door. it wasn't that he didn't want you, but having you in front of him with your smell invading his nose and your cheeks flushed and your hair messy from laying down was intoxicating.

"hey," was all he said.

the air was awkward and tense. logan's chest heaved up and down from his attempts to steady his breathing. absentmindedly, you played with a thread at the hem of your top.

"did you...need something?" you asked.

"can i come in?" he blurted out.

you nodded, held the door wide open, and scooted to the side of it. he stepped over the threshold, carefully avoiding anything he might knock over or ruin. for him, it seemed, one wrong step could lead to your entire room coming down in one fell swoop.

as if being in your presence was not difficult enough, being in your room was a trial. everything was so you. your clothes to the left of him, your posters to the right. your perfume and body wash lingering in the air. his eyes didn't know where to go so they landed on you in front of him.

"so, uh...did you like the movie tonight?" you asked in an attempt to make conversation. he shifted on his feet. "oh, come here. you can sit down if you wanna." your hand gestured for him to follow you to your bed. despite his brain telling him not to go, his legs moved and then he found himself sitting on your bed, looking down at you.

he blinked, suddenly forgetting your question. what was he going to do here? he came with no purpose, no plan, no intention. obviously he couldn't kiss you right there. he couldn't push you down and run his hands along the sides of your body like he dreamed about for so long. no matter how bad he wanted to be between your legs, using his mouth to draw pretty moans out of you and bring your back up from the bed, and hear his name tumble out of your mouth like a prayer-

"logan?" his head snapped to you. the corners of your lips were upturned into a half smile. "did you hear me?"

"no, sorry. what'd you say?" he asked.

with an almost imperceptible scoot closer to him, you looked up into his brown eyes. there was something in yours that he felt resembled desire, but it couldn't be. there was no way you were having those similar dirty thoughts to him.

"i asked if you came here to kiss me."

his heart could've slipped out from its cavity, down through his stomach, and out through his ass.

"because if so, then you might want to go ahead and do it because it's almost time for me to go to bed."

logan didn't have to hear many more words over that. his hands flew to your sides like he had wanted them to for months. with uncharacteristic gentless, he guided you to lay down on the bed. a smile grew on your lips at his closeness and his touch. yes, this was much better than your original plans for the night.

"so, you've been thinking about me too?" logan asked, just a few inches from your lips.

the blush that he so often thought about in his dreams crept back to your cheeks. "of course i have. i was just waiting on you to take charge," you teased. your hand made its way to his chest where it rubbed along the skin, then up to his neck where it rested carefully, right over his pulse point. you could feel it pick up when your other hand made contact with his waist.

logan chuckled at that. "and to think i was gonna go spend the rest of the night in my bedroom after being so unbearably close to you all night."

"i'm glad you came over finally," you said. after a pause, "i think rogue and gambit might've been getting tired of this too."

"they're about to get a lot more tired of us when i'm done with you tonight." with that, logan's lips came down to yours where they met in a crushing kiss. it was messy, but conveyed the months of ache and yearning for each other. teeth clashed at moments, and only when the annoying need to breathe came forward did you pull apart.

"show me what you got, howlett," you said in response to his earlier comment after taking a breath.

in seconds, logan had his tight t-shirt off, along with his sweatpants. everything that had once been scandalous to watch from a distance was now in your hand. perhaps the whole loveseat plan, no matter the annoyance it brought on originally, was an ingenious idea.

𝜗𝜚

#wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett #logan x reader #x men #logan howlett smut

275 notes · View notes

loaksky · 2 years ago

Text

— 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮

the deets — lo'ak is the black sheep in the family, clinging to honor by a precarious thread. you are the well-loved songstress in the tribe. he should resent you for being everything he's not, but his fickle heart can't bring him to do so.

the who — lo'ak x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 10.2k (rip yall)

the tags — (one-sided) rivals-to-lovers, angsty angsty, hurt / comfort, reader gives lo'ak a big ol smooch (perhaps more than one), lo’ak is the biggest dumbass and because of this he’s mean asf, reader has a big ol heart and just really wants lo’ak to like her, aged!up characters for maturity’s sake.

the warnings — language, lo'ak is in luv but doesn't realize it, he's in denial that the feelings could be reciprocated, this is super dramatic so put your seat belts on!

the notes — was feeling extra sad and wanted to write something self-indulgent. this lovely anon requested something, and i used their ask as inspiration to finish this beast. fine line, bags, and love in dark are the three main songs i listened to finish this, so if you wanna be in your feels, have a listen LMAO. despite all the support, i’m still so mf nervous posting this ejsjsjdjs

masterlist

SOMETHING UGLY KINDLES IN THE PIT of Lo'ak's stomach at the mere mention of your name. It's sour on his tongue, bitter in his brain. He doesn't know when he's started to feel like this, started to feel absolutely dreadful anytime he'd hear the timbre of your voice.

It's warm, thick like nectar and it makes him sick.

Ever since you all were little, the elders crooned over what a great girl you were growing into; strong, intelligent, beautiful. It made him boil how much they'd sing your praises, the high esteem everyone held you in as one of the clan's most talented.

Something dull would pick at him being compared to his older brother, but nothing burned more than being compared to you.

Maybe it's because it's always implied whenever your names share the same sentences, that lingering implication that he could be more like you. The clan fans the flames of your mere existence while Lo'ak is snuffed out like a dying fire.

He hates it. He hates you.

He thinks.

It'd be easier to, if you were awful behind the scenes. Arrogant, stuck up, but you're none of those things. You're kind, gentle, mighty when you need to be. It doesn't help that you shine like the brightest star, engulfing everyone in your light, in your warmth.

But Lo'ak resists. He sees right through you, sees right through every saccharine smile you send him. He can see it in your eyes, how you really see him. Despite standing a full head taller than you, he sees the way you look down your nose at him.

It grates his nerves, how disgustingly sweet you are towards him despite all attempts to rebuff you.

Certainly doesn’t soothe his ego when you always seem to be around the bend every time he gets bitched at by the clan, eyes soft and filled with pity. To add insult to injury, you frequently tail him like a shadow after these moments when all he wants is to be alone.

Like now, you linger.

It's after dinner and Kiri and Spider stand before him. They come together like the three points of a triangle and you stand an awkward distance away from them.

Kiri notices you first, her face splitting into a big smile as she waves you over.

Lo'ak breathes a deep sigh before locking eyes with Spider who tries his best to suppress an amused grin.

“Hi,” you chirp and Lo'ak can't help but roll his eyes.

Spider and Kiri greet you eagerly. Lo'ak simply nods his head in acknowledgement before tightening his fist around his dagger.

“We going or what?” he finally says.

You perk up.

“Where are you guys heading off to?” you ask curiously, hands clasped behind your back.

Spider opens his mouth to answer, but Lo'ak cuts him off quickly.

“No where important,” he says, unsure if you'll blab about their whereabouts to the elders, or worse, his parents.

You roll your lips and shift on your feet.

“Can I come?” you ask hesitantly, eyes hopeful.

Kiri's smile grows as she links her arm with yours.

“No,” he says sharply. “Absolutely not.”

Your face falls and something pulls inside his chest when you fail meet his gaze, your frown barely perceptible.

You make a move to pull from Kiri's grasp, but her arm tightens through yours. She levels Lo'ak with a weighty glare and you fidget uncomfortably under his narrowed eyes.

“Don't worry about it,” you say, like someone's hit a reset button. You smile that pretty smile and Lo'ak wants to scream. "It's okay, I think Rutan needs help with clean up."

You slip from Kiri's grasp and the three watch you walk off.

“Do you always have to be such a bitch?” Spider scoffs a disbelieving laugh.

“She's just gonna tag along so she can snitch,” Lo'ak grumbles.

“Oh c'mon,” Kiri argues. “________ just wants friends.”

Lo'ak sneers.

“I don't want to be friends with her,” he says firmly, knuckles white around the handle of his knife.

“Weirdo,” Spider mumbles. “She’s cute. Think she likes you.”

Lo'ak's spine stiffens.

“It's an act” Lo'ak grumbles. “She just wants to look good in front of the elders to keep up whatever nice girl show she's putting on.”

Kiri rolls her eyes hard.

There are moments when Lo'ak thinks he's being harsh, but he can't help himself. It's like he loses all semblance of a filter when it comes to you.

“Hi, Lo'ak,” you greet him sweetly, lowering yourself onto the fallen log he's perched on, fashioning arrows to practice with later on in the evening with Neteyam.

He shifts away from you, putting the distance of two bodies between the two of you as he pauses his task at hand.

“Hi,” he says flatly.

“Can I help?” you ask tentatively, fingers twitching towards one of the untouched sticks in a pile next to his feet.

His kicks them closer to himself, out of your reach before leveling you with a sharp glare.

“No thanks,” he says quickly and you recoil slowly, letting out a shaky laugh before fixing that stupid smile on your pretty face.

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize, straightening in your seat.

A silence so uncomfortably palpable settles over the two of you as you shift so that your knees are turned towards him.

His throat bobs when his gaze travels from your little toes all the way up to your inquisitive gaze, golden and searching. It makes something unruly settle in his gut and he turns his attention back to carving his arrows.

“Do you need something?” he breaks the silence finally. “I'm kinda busy.”

You bite your lip before scooting a little closer to Lo'ak's hunched figure.

“My birthday's coming up,” you start.

“I'm aware,” Lo'ak almost scoffs.

It's all the clan has been able to talk about for the past few days. How they'd be able to prepare for the golden girl's next birth cycle and what they'd be able to do to make you smile the brightest.

“Your birthday is a week before,” you state and his head whips towards you.

“How do you know that?” he asks sharply, accusation heavy in his gruff tone.

You flinch and he falters for a moment before your smile simply widens.

“We grew up together, Lo'ak,” you say and the way his name sounds from your mouth sounds absolutely heavenly. “You're my friend.”

Friend.

He scowls at the term.

“We're not friends,” he bites back.

If the statement bothers you, you don't show it, simply tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before putting on a brave face.

“I want to celebrate with you,” you say shyly.

“Hard pass,” he says too quickly, gathering his sticks and fashioned arrows under his grasp.

He leaves you in the clearing on your own.

You must be fucking with him. You have to be. It'd be the only explanation for why Jake pulls him aside a few nights later and tells him that you've requested to work with him and Neteyam during archery practice.

“No,” he says stiffly, shaking his head.

His dad levels him with a hard glare and Lo'ak sighs deeply.

“She's a nuisance, Dad,” he argues. “Me and Neteyam are making good progress with our training and we'll have to start at square one if she joins.”

“Lo'ak, this isn't an ask,” Jake says sternly.

“But, Dad!”

“Lo'ak.”

Lo'ak huffs, snatching his bow and quiver angrily before storming off.

“You're doing great,” Neteyam says to you once the three of you have convened in the training circle.

The three arrows you've shot have all landed within centimeters of the mark and to say that Neteyam is impressed is an understatement. Lo'ak, on the other hand, fumes not-so-silently as he tears his arrows from his target.

Yet again, you have another person wrapped around your finger and it makes his blood simmer as he assumes his position at the marker and loads his arrow. It splinters through the air and hits the target right on the bullseye. The arrow punctures through the hide and lodges its way into the wood from the sheer force of Lo’ak’s shot.

You start at him moon-eyed, lush lips breaking into a full smile.

“Perfect shot,” you observe. “That was awesome.”

Lo’ak scans your features hesitantly before his gaze flits to his older brother, waiting for any acknowledgment that he’d done a great job, but Neteyam is taking notes on the arrows still stuck in the fabric of your own target.

His heart sinks.

“Fuck this,” Lo’ak grumbles, bundling all of his belongings.

He stalks through the clearing, past his brother, to leave you two.

He doesn’t know what fuels the fire more, the fact that Neteyam didn’t even bat an eye at the feat they’d been practicing for for the past three weeks because he was too immersed in you, or the fact that you bore witness to his first clean shot and gave him that sickeningly sweet smile that made his stomach turn.

“Where are you going?” Neteyam sighs.

“Somewhere you two aren’t,” he grumbles under his breath, ducking through the brush of the lofty forest.

You lick your lips, locking eyes with Neteyam as you give him a bashful grin and slowly break away to follow Lo’ak’s path.

He isn’t far ahead as you push through the vines and low-hanging leaves, the path lined with large plants and the spindly roots of the looming trees. The grass is plush between your toes as you scamper to follow Lo’ak from a distance, watching as his lithe body climbs through the dense flora.

“Why are you following me?” he calls after a few dozen paces, stopping in the middle of the path to whirl on his heel.

His golden eyes are syrupy, warm despite the edge, and you can’t help but flash him your pearly whites in a genuine smile that takes up your dimpled cheeks.

“Why’d you run off?” you ask him. “You were doing so well!”

His chest rises and falls with a scoff.

“You can give it a rest, you know?” Lo’ak says flatly, fist so tight around his bow he feels like he’ll crush the wood.

Your expression morphs, eyebrows furrowing in a way that makes Lo’ak throat bob, something pinching behind his ribcage.

“What?” you ask, frown marring your pretty face.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you can stop acting like you wanna be friends with me,” Lo’ak says matter-of-factly.

“You are my friend,” you protest quietly.

Lo’ak rolls his eyes.

“Dude, whatever,” he mutters, turning his back on you.

“Is it so wrong?” you murmur and he stops in his tracks, refusing to meet your gaze. “To be friends?”

Friends.

That stupid fucking word again.

Lo’ak bites his tongue and stalks off, leaving you on the path.

Neteyam rips him a new one when he sees him at dinner later that night. Lo’ak hangs his head as Neteyam digs in.

“Is it so hard to be nice?” Neteyam asks, hand squeezing his shoulder as they stand a handful of meters away from the main circle.

As his eyes wander, he notices you sitting with his sister, head thrown back in laughter that glitters and wafts with the rising smoke of the fire. He swallows turning his attention back to his older brother.

“Just don’t like her,” he admits. “I want her to leave me alone.”

“You don’t like her or you like her too much?” Neteyam asks, brow bone raised.

Lo’ak’s face scrunches.

“Ew, no,” he blurts. “Why would I—”

“________ just wants to fit in,” he sighs. “She has trouble making friends.”

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Lo’ak mocks. “I don’t know why Kiri and Spider are always up her ass, she’s—”

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam warns.

“Dude, everyone is always ________ this, _________ that! I don’t understand what’s so great about her—”

A throat clears and the brothers both turn their attention to the newcomer. Lo’ak could groan in frustration seeing that you’ve abandoned your seat and now stand nearby with two wooden plates.

“They’re going to start cleaning up soon,” you say hesitantly. “Wanted to bring you some.”

Neteyam takes it graciously from you, nodding his head in thanks while Lo’ak stares down at the plate you’d arranged for him, abundant in vegetables and thick cuts of meat.

“No thanks,” he says flatly.

You try to coax him.

“C’mon Lo’ak, you say gently. “I know you haven’t eaten yet.”

“No thanks,” he repeats stonily, holding his hand up.

You offer up the plate again.

“Lo’ak–“

“I said no thank you,” he grunts, annoyed.

He’d only meant to push it back towards you, but one second it’s in your hands, the next you’re wearing dinner, the plate clattering onto the ground.

“Lo’ak!” Neteyam scolds.

“Shit, I didn’t–”

“It’s fine,” you breathe an airy laugh and Lo’ak freezes when he hears your breath hitch. “It was an accident.”

“Oh, ________…” Neteyam sighs, but you’re picking up the plate and scurrying off, ignoring the nearby snickering.

“Whatever you got going on, you need to cool it,” Jake scolds him in the family tent after dinner that night. “________ is a good girl, she’s trying to find her place. Can’t really do that if you’re gonna be a jerk to her all the time.”

Lo’ak resists the urge to roll his eyes because, yet again, someone is sticking up for you, admonishing him about how he could be nicer, how he could take you under his wing, how he–

“What about me?” Lo’ak argues. “I tell her to leave me alone all the time, but she doesn’t listen. Why do I have to be nice to someone who doesn’t respect–”

“Cut the bullshit,” Jake thunders. “You haven’t even tried being her friend.”

“Why should I?” Lo’ak counters.

“Because maybe you two are more alike than you’d care to learn,” Jake says knowingly. “Now go apologize.”

“Dad!”

“Go, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak sucks in a deep breath before squeezing his eyes shut and blowing out through his nose.

“Fine, fine, whatever,” he grumbles, ducking from the tent into the humid night air.

He starts into the jungle, fingers brushing over the leaves and petals of the plants and flowers. He takes the moment to regulate his pounding heart in his chest before trying to wrack his brain for any words that he could scrounge into a believable apology.

When he crosses the glowing waters of a skinny brook, something rustles nearby and his hand is on the hilt of his dagger in the blink of an eye.

He turns to face the noise, knife drawn, but then you emerge and his body relaxes a fraction.

“Fuck, ________, you scared me,” he sighs in relief.

You fidget and swallow down the lump in your throat.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly.

A brief silence dawns the two of you and Lo’ak notes that you’ve cleaned up from the evening meal’s debacle, now wearing a longer loincloth threaded with round pearlescent beads that refract the luminescence of the surrounding forest.

Your grasp tightens around a leather bound journal and for a moment, he wonders what you could be writing about.

When you follow his gaze, you shyly tuck the journal behind your back and give him an uneasy smile.

“I wanted to–”

“I came to–”

Your words clash and you breathe a little laugh through your nose as you gaze at him with brilliant eyes. You start closing the distance and Lo’ak’s hands grow clammy.

“You first,” you offer.

Whatever threads of an apology he’d crafted in the moments prior have evaporated now that you stand before him, absolutely glowing.

“Lo’ak?” Your head tilts and his cheeks warm.

“Sorry,” he says hoarsely. “For what happened at dinner.”

You shake your head quickly.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you assure him, reaching out to touch him.

He recoils, clearing his throat as he retreats to put an ample amount of distance between the two of you.

You eye the berth and something shutters across your face as you rock back on your heels and flash him another uneasy smile.

You haven’t even tried being her friend, his dad’s words echo like a call in the night. Maybe you two are more alike that you care to learn.

Were you? You and Lo’ak were as different as they come, you molded by the love and adoration of the clan, him built up by the lessons and lectures he received from his parents and Neteyam.

“Where are you going?” you ask, blowing by the previous conversation.

He shrugs.

“Dunno,” he admits. “I was looking for you.”

The way you freeze is almost covert, your lips rolling as you try to hide the smile threatening to split your face.

“Oh,” you hum. “Wanna go for a walk?”

No, he wants to say. He absolutely does not want to spend anymore time with you than he has to. Likes to believe that he wouldn’t even bat an eye if he were to never see you again, but you’re looking at him expectantly and his dad’s words are like a mantra in his head, so he agrees begrudgingly.

It’s awkward at first, silent except for the natural soundtrack of the vicarious jungle. But like you do so well, you break the silence and Lo’ak has to resist rolling his eyes for the third time that night.

“What are your favorite colors?” you ask suddenly.

“I dunno, green?” he offers.

“Are you sure?” you laugh quietly.

Lo’ak thinks a moment before nodding his head.

“Yeah, green,” he finalizes. “And blue.”

He barely notices that you’d fallen behind, and when he turns to look over his shoulder, he sees that you’re scratching something into your little journal.

“And your favorite fruit?” you press, nose still between the pages.

Lo’ak breathes out a laugh and your head shoots up.

“What? You gonna send this list to the lab?” Lo’ak asks.

You give him a shy smile, shifting on your feet.

“No,” you say softly, then whisper to yourself, “just compiling a list to win your heart.”

Lo’ak barely hears you, ears twitching as his eyes narrow in confusion.

“What?” he asks.

You snap your notebook shut, shaking your head quickly as you pad through the grass to catch up to him.

“Nothing.”

Something ripples in the fabric after that night, you and Neteyam both notice when Lo’ak enters the training clearing the next afternoon and greets you with a nod instead of flat out ignoring your presence like he had the last training session.

And you think that the moment is fleeting, a one off, but as the days progress, you realize that maybe Lo’ak is finally softening around you.

He stays for entire lessons, the most minute of smiles twitching at his lips whenever you compliment his shots. He waits near the edge for you as you pack up your things, and while the walk back to the village is a quiet one, you bask in his company, triumphant when he doesn’t run off.

And while your evening walks are few and far between, you savor the moments he affords you, wedging yourself between him the crumbling walls of his facade.

Tonight is one of those moments, sitting on adjacent branches overlooking the lively forest, when Lo’ak lets you peek farther into his life than he’d originally intended.

“He never understands,” he sighs, popping a few berries from his satchel past his lips.

Tonight’s topic is his father and you listen intently, eyes fixed on the way he reclines on the branch and looks up at the stars.

“I try hard, you know? To make everyone proud, but all they see is my failure,” he says, obviously annoyed. “No matter what I do, it’s not good enough.”

“You do great things, Lo’ak,” you say quietly, the first words you’ve said all night.

And like your voice is a reminder, Lo’ak’s spine goes rigid, throat bobbing as he realizes that he may have said too much to you. He’s getting too comfortable and you’re all the willing to absorb every insecurity and every worry he has.

But something about quiet moments like these makes him loose-lipped, eyes fluttering to where you’ve got your notebook balanced in the seam of your thighs, scrawling something on the pages as you eat your own berries.

The words are leaving him before he can stop them.

“Easy for you to say,” he murmurs. “You’re perfect.”

The laugh that escapes you startles him and a few of the berries he was about to devour slips from his fingers and plunk down the leaves.

“I’m not perfect,” you assure him.

“Only someone who’s perfect would say that,” Lo’ak grumbles, peering over the edge of the branches to spot his fallen fruit. “The whole village loves you, everyone’s always so ready to bat for you.”

You look down at the pages of your journal with a sad smile.

“It’s a lot of pressure,” you admit quietly. “Everyone’s watching your every move, waiting for you to mess up.”

Lo’ak shifts uncomfortably.

You continue.

“And most of the villagers our age don’t like me,” you say, thumbing one of the pages. “They say I kiss ass, that I’m always trying to keep a leg up.”

Lo’ak winces, knowing that he’s the source of at least one of those sentiments.

“The elders think you’re honorable,” Lo’ak argues gently. “You’re talented, you have something to offer the people.”

“Honor means nothing if you’re bound by it,” you say finally, closing the cover to your journal. “If anything, I want to be more like you.”

“Like me?” Lo’ak asks incredulously, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You nod, smiling at him.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I think you’re brave, fearless. And even if you care what people think, you do what you want.”

Lo’ak is quiet, taken aback by your confession.

Before he can respond, you’re gathering your things, bidding him a warm farewell as you begin climbing down the tree to disappear into the night.

After that night, you think that maybe you’re just imagining things, that you’re reading too much into the fact that Lo’ak has begun to finally act like you exist, but then Kiri says something and the hope sends your heart soaring.

“Seems like he finally got his head out of his ass,” she says a few mornings later as you two stand near a shallow stream, eyes peeled for any fish you two could bring back to the village.

“Think so?” you ask nervously, arrow trapping the flailing fish to the pebbles of the stream’s bed.

Kiri shrugs.

“He actually pays you mind now,” Kiri observes. “That’s a step up for sure. I think you just need to spend more time with him.”

You smile, splashing through shallow waters to capture the fish and add it to the growing pile in the basket between you and the middle Sully.

“Yeah?” you wonder

So you test the theory, basket filled with various peeled fruits and a little container of nectar you squeezed from the petals of a flower.

It doesn’t take long to hunt him down. When you enter the training circle, he’s packing up his things, quiver strapped to his back and bow in his fist.

Before you make yourself known, he’s turning on his heel to face you, eyes wild as he swallows down the lump in his throat.

He’d be the last to admit that the last night you two spent together was branded in his brain, that his mouth had dried up so much so he felt his tongue could crack.

There were so many implications in your words and it horrified him, scared him so much that he knew he couldn’t let you that close again.

But now you stand before him, pretty as can be, hopeful even, and he’s at a war with himself, absolutely caught between resenting you for being everything he’s not and giving into the draw.

“Hi,” you greet, basket heavy in your hands.

You look more radiant than usual, skirt brushing the forest floor, the woven vine of your top banded to expose your midriff.

“Hey,” he replies hesitantly.

“Where you going?” you ask curiously.

His throat bobs as he gestures behind him.

“Hunting,” is all he says.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” you ask eagerly.

He doesn’t. He shouldn’t. Because things are shifting and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to stomach the change. If he’ll be able to admit to himself that you’re wearing him thin, that you make him feel things he’s never felt before and that it makes him feel like he has no control.

Because when it boils down to it, you make him lose control, make him lose his filter, and make him feel every emotion twice as hard.

“No,” he says.

And in that moment, you feel like you’re back at square one, watching as his eyes turn stony and his jaw sets firmly.

“You shouldn’t go hunting on your own,” you say softly. “Will someone be with you?”

“It’s fine,” he argues. “I’m fine.”

“I can go with you!” you offer. “I thought maybe we could sit by the stream and talk, but we can go hunting instead. We can–”

“No,” he says again, pinning you with eyes so lethal, it makes you wonder if you really had imagined the moments you shared with him, if you had imagined Kiri telling you that she saw it too.

You try again anyways.

“It’ll be good practice and–”

“I said no, ________,” he barks. “You’re dead weight and I want to be alone.”

Your lips seal and you bite the inside of your cheek.

Lo’ak could nearly scream in frustration when he notices the way your shoulders sag and it makes something in his heart cinch.

“Okay,” you agree, nodding quickly. “Be safe and–”

The words die on your tongue when you notice the look of annoyance on Lo’ak’s face.

Lo’ak is in deep shit, you come to find out hours later.

You sit outside of the training circle, knowing that Lo’ak will return down the path after his hunting trip. What you don’t expect, however, is Jake and Neytiri emerging with the entire line of Sully kids and Spider.

Jake grips the back of Lo’ak’s neck tightly as they march past wandering eyes, straight to the family tent. You don’t miss his wounds though, varying in depth, some bleeding, some sore.

You’re hot on their heels, standing right outside of the entrance as Jake tears into the middle Sully.

“Time and time again, I have to get on your ass for doing the complete opposite of what I ask you to do!” Jake’s voice is thunderous inside the tent. “Do you not realize that you not only risked your life but your sisters’ too?”

There’s a beat of silence before Jake continues, obviously pacing from the way his volume fluctuates.

“And what were you thinking bringing Tuk? She’s nine, Lo’ak!” he shouts, the anger and the hurt evident in his tone.

“I’m sorry,” Lo’ak mumbles.

“Yeah, I bet you are!” Jake scolds. “I don’t ask for much. All I want is for you stay in line. Just stay out of trouble and work hard on your training. I paired you with ________ and Neteyam in hopes that maybe you’ll tighten up and be more like them, but you’re always disappointing me.”

You frown.

Whatever Lo’ak had done probably didn’t warrant such deep admonishment and something tugs especially hard at your heartstrings knowing that all he wants to do is make his dad proud.

“You’re surrounded by good influences, but you always have to go against the grain, Lo’ak,” Jake says, the edge in his tone softening. “I’m getting tired of the bullshit, son. You need to clean up your act. Hear me?”

“Yes sir,” Lo’ak says quietly, voice almost a whisper behind the hide of the tent.

“Now go get yourself cleaned up,” Jake huffs.

Your spine is straightening when you hear foot steps closing in, holding your breath as the flap to the tent billows open and Lo’ak is emerging.

His eyes flit to yours and his expression sours further.

“Lo’ak,” you murmur, reaching out to him.

He’s shrugging you away, wincing when a wound on his shoulder stretches especially taut.

“You’re hurt,” you say quietly. “I’ll–”

“Leave me alone,” he says, eerily level.

“But you’re–”

“I said leave me alone, ________,” he warns, pushing past you in what should be the pursuit of his grandmother’s quarters.

Instead he’s making a beeline for the jungle.

You’d seen the look in his eye before he stonewalled you, seen the hurt and heaviness that most people didn’t seem to notice because he was always so adventurous and carefree.

You follow after him.

“Lo’ak, you know he’s only worried for you,” you try to reason gently, fingers reaching for his own as you duck under massive leaves and fluttering insects.

He whirls to face you, swatting your hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he bites. “You don’t know anything.”

You swallow, holding your hand to your chest as you watch him lay down every brick to wall himself off.

He hates it. He hates how you look at him, how you seem to pity the life he has to live. It makes him sick, thinking that you two have it the same. He’d rather be hated for being great than hated for being a let down. It’s insulting, how you think you know how it feels.

“Let’s go back. I’ll wrap your wounds and–”

“Of course, clan’s golden girl is gonna patch me up and make it all better, huh?” he seethes facetiously. “Just fuck off!”

You flinch, blinking at the boy you holds so much rage in front of you.

“I know you’re hurting, but you don’t have to be mean,” you whisper, taking in a shuddering breath to will yourself not to cry.

“Mean? Mean?” Lo’ak bristles. “I’ve tried telling you to lay off nicely, tried telling you to just leave me alone, but you don’t listen. You just pry and overstep and you make every little thing about you! Oh, it’s so much pressure, villagers our age hate me, of course they would! You already have everything and just have to go rub salt in the wound!”

You shrink, eyes welling as your lip trembles.

“Lo’ak, stop,” you whimper.

“We’re not friends, ________.We never were and we never will because I don’t like you,” he spits. “Now please, for the love of god, will you just leave me alone!”

The forest is silent save for Lo’ak’s ragged breathing, fists clenched as he glares down at you.

“I-” Your breath hitches and you choke out an apology. “I’m sorry.”

Lo’ak’s heart softens a fraction as you take a step back, turning quickly on your heel.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you rasp, tripping over your own feet as you stumble into a run, putting as much space as you can between you and the middle child who stands in the middle of the forest, unable to wrangle every harsh word he’d said to force back down his throat.

You dropped your journal.

Lo’ak is sure you’re looking for it, know that you’ve always got your nose stuck in it. You had dropped it running off and now he has its leather bound in his hands.

It’s been a couple of nights since the faithful evening he’d blown his top and he’d only seen whispers of you. It was so unlike you to disappear, to not be entertaining the masses as they fell to your feet.

He’d cooled off significantly, and when he replayed the conversation in his head, he winced, body folding in on itself as he realizes how harsh he’d been.

“Are you actually thinking thoughts?” Spider claps him on the shoulder, startling him so badly he drops the journal.

It lands spine down, the pages fluttering open.

He chances a peek before Spider is rounding his lithe figure to pick up the notebook. All he makes out is a rough sketch.

“You write?” Spider asks, intrigued.

“No, it’s ________’s,” Lo’ak answers.

“Oh, your little girlfriend’s?”

Lo’ak gives the human a cross look, snatching the book from his grasp as he stands up.

“Trouble in paradise?” Spider pries, scurrying to keep up with Lo’ak’s long strides.

A beat of silence before Lo’ak finally answers.

“Made her cry,” he mumbles, embarrassed.

Spider winces behind him.

“You serious?”

Lo’ak sighs.

“Yes, dude, fuck,” he breathes, hand coming to the back of his neck. “I don’t know what came over me. Dad was ripping me a new one and Neteyam already chewed me out before they got there and she was being annoying, so I just…”

“Bro,” Spider scoffs in disbelief, scratching the back of his head. “You’re a real dickhead sometimes.”

Lo’ak’s eyes wander as he shifts uncomfortably, feeling incredibly small as his friend glares up at him.

“I mean, I told her I wanted to be left alone!” Lo’ak tries to defend weakly. “I- I didn’t mean to.”

“She likes you a lot, dude,” Spider reiterates. “She just wants you to like her back.”

Despite the glaring signs, Lo’ak has trouble believing that your feelings for him far surpass charity work. They couldn’t, it was impossible. Because at the end of the day, you’re you and he’s…him.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Spider beats him to it.

“Did you at least apologize?”

Lo’ak squirms.

“Dude!”

“Look, I know, I know,” he tries to assuage the situation.

“________ is literally the sweetest girl in the entire clan you just–“

“I get it, bro, I get it!” Lo’ak huffs.

“Get your head out of your ass,” Spider says. “She might not stick around long enough for you to realize.”

“Realize what?” Lo’ak snaps.

“Are you really gonna play stupid right now?”

He blinks at the human.

“You like ________,” Spider says matter-of-factly. “You always have, ever since we were kids.”

“Oh, piss off,” Lo’ak grumbles.

“Dude, you’re literally my best friend, but I sometimes I wanna shove my foot so far up your–”

“I do not like ________,” Lo’ak says sharply.

“Everyone sees it but you, dipshit,” Spider scoffs. “You like her, but you’re scared. She’s perfect and she intimidates you. Think she’s gonna see you for what you really are and turn her back on you like everyone else does when you fuck up, but she’s not like that, Lo’ak. She’s been there whether you like it or not. But she might not always.”

Lo’ak swallows down the knot in his throat, fingers tightening around the notebook.

“Everything clicking?” Spider asks knowingly.

Lo’ak throws him a final narrowed glare before stalking off.

It’s Lo’ak’s birthday and just like every orbit, he spends it alone in the forest.

At first, he’d been burdened with the weight of hurting your feelings, but now his conversation with Spider weighs heavy on him as he climbs dirt walkways and flowered paths.

It doesn’t help that your notebook weighs heavy in his satchel, a silent reminder that he still has a piece of you while you cling to his peace of mind.

I think you’re brave, fearless. They’re the words you uttered to him that fateful night you turned the reality of you two on its axis.

As he splices all the moments you two shared like a reel, he realizes that it’s endless. That you’re always there, you’d always been there, like a layer of impenetrable atmosphere surrounding him.

He really should apologize, he knows this much, but you’ve disappeared like a wisp of smoke. Training sessions have returned to a sibling affair and he’s too prideful to ask about you.

It’s almost eclipse when he begins making his way back for the evening meal, knowing that a scolding will await if he arrives even a minute late.

After what had happened with you, he was lying low, trying to diminish his blip from the radar.

As he closes in on the village’s main circle, he notes that it’s quiet. A little too quiet. It puts him on edge, makes him draw his bow and feel around for an arrow in his quiver.

A few more paces and he’s broken into the clearing, a few stragglers milling about. Another half a dozen steps and it’s like the forest melts into a celebration, whorls of blue pouring into the circle as villagers begin trilling.

Lo’ak is hoisted into the air as the dying fire in the center of the camp begins to slowly roar.

“Happy birthday, baby bro!” Neteyam caws loudly as they begin jostling him into the air, chanting and dancing as the dense crowd of clanspeople celebrate him.

It’s like time slows as he peers from side to side eagerly, seeing the way Spider, Kiri and Tuk dance happily among his people. Jake and Neytiri stand near the fire, smiles wide when they see the look of awe on their middle son’s face.

When he’s finally set on his feet, he wobbles, childlike as he turns, taking in the glowing streamers that crisscross between the tents. Flowers of green and blue thread through the vines, gleaming like lamplight as the forest buzzes around them.

“Wha– What is all this?” Lo’ak croaks in disbelief, eyes flitting wildly as he notices Norm and Max standing next to a table they’d hauled from the pod to the circle, piled high with meats and vegetables wrapped in leaves.

A platter of yovo fruits, his favorite, are at the center, surrounded by a painted sign with his name and the handprints of dozens of villagers on it.

“You survived another orbit!” Neteyam laughs heartily, head-locking the younger boy before roughly digging his knuckles into the top of his head.

A laugh bubbles from Lo’ak’s lips, swatting his brother away as villagers and clan members he’d grown up with approach him one by one to greet him.

As the night progresses, he doesn’t even realize he’s searching until your mother approaches and his spine goes rigid, cheeks warming under her piercing gaze.

“From my ________,” she says, setting a pouch into his palms. “She toiled over these for many eclipses. Please take care.”

Lo’ak’s nod is delayed as his satchel shifts on his shoulders, a dull reminder that your journal still remains with him, begging to be read.

“Where– Where is she?” he asks suddenly, feeling your absence all the more now that your gift sits in the palm of his hand.

“My daughter does not feel well,” your mother says simply. “She wished to be excused from the festivities.”

His chest feels hollow, stomach tight as his cheeks burn. You’d mentioned this to him, all those days ago in the training circle, about wanting to celebrate with him.

His eyes flit to the flowers looped through the vines, the mountain of yovo fruits, the gift in his hands. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous. Doesn’t want to fuel the tiniest ember of hope in chest, but he can’t help it.

He can’t help but read into it, into the implications of this celebration you’d planned all for him, into every word you uttered to him in the quiet of the forest’s chirping.

It’s all it takes for him to lock himself in his own head. The feast melts into the background, dull, as his eyes cut the crowd for you.

You have to be here, gotta be hanging around the outskirts silently. The idea taunts him, makes his gut twist hard as images of you dancing in the circle, singing to him, celebrating him, loving him—

Lo’ak freezes, blinking incredulously at the thought that’d just crossed his brain. It makes him queasy, makes the regret and the guilt gnaw at every nerve ending as your crying face flashes like an unwanted slideshow in his brain.

It’s all he can think about as the festivities die, as villagers begin turning in the for the night and he helps his family clean up the aftermath of another orbit finally finished.

Spider helps Tuk and Neteyam near the fire, and as Lo’ak moves through the motions like he’s caught in a tide, Kiri watches, knowing all too well what consumes her brother’s mind.

It isn’t until Lo’ak is shrouded by the stillness of the early morning, his family tucked in their tent, bodies and limbs splayed as they sleep together, that he sits in a swinging hammock, your journal and the pouch in his lap.

It feels wrong, the way he thumbs the cover, working up the courage to turn it open. But Ewya, fate, would have never left it in his wake if it wasn’t meant to be read.

As his finger ghosts the etchings of the front cover, worn and loved by you, something tickles his leg as he admires the leather. He blinks in disbelief when he sees a singular woodsprite resting against his thigh.

Before he loses his nerve, he’s opening the pages with bated breath.

Recipes, nature notes, short thoughts fill the sheets and Lo’ak feels like he’s reading into your brain, seeing all the little things no one bothers to know.

he is like the sun,

shines so bright,

but burns the closer you get.

Lo’ak’s pointer finger glosses over the ink, over your curly handwriting.

he is so incredible, but he doesn’t even know it. i want to shout it to every creature in the forest, every tree and every flower. oh, how i wish to be as fearless as him.

His chest heaves as the words blur.

Fearless.

In this moment, he feels everything but. He feels like a coward.

He continues to flip, throat lodged as he sees drawings, both rough sketches and full renderings. He hadn’t even known that you liked to draw, yet here he was, observing his home through your artistic eye.

Flowers, leaves, trees, creatures, insects, fruits mar the stained papers, etched like it’d been caught in real time.

likes green and blue.

likes yovo fruits.

The entry from the day you’d first walked with him through the forest.

When he turns the page, his breath hitches.

In full color, you’d captured his bullseye from your first training session. His back taut from the release, expression shaded stoic. He looked mighty, like the strongest warrior, and it was all through your eyes.

Lo’ak doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the bullseye in the illustration bleeds from a fallen tear. Another one drips from his chin, then another.

The next page is the night you two had poured your hearts out to each other. Again, in full color, he’s watching the stars. You don’t leave out the glow of the freckles that smatter his face and body, don’t miss the smile that plays at his lips as he quietly points out that his dad had come from a star.

He flips again and different iterations and designs for what seems like jewelry litters the pages, shaded with different colors of blue and green, marked with varying notes, x’s marking through ideas you didn’t like.

Lo’ak remembers the pouch, sitting untouched in his lap, and his shaky fingers undo the ties. He shakes the contents on the flat of the notebook and the most intricate beadwork fits into the crease.

His eyes widen as he picks up the necklace in a trembling hand, the eclipsing sun catching the etching in the flat stones.

Four five-fingered hands and four four-fingered ones, each separated by jewels scavenged and cleaned from the bed of the glowing river.

A small scroll flutters from the pouch and Lo’ak chokes back as sob as he unrolls the hide.

Happy Birthday, Lo’ak. I am always grateful to know someone like you. May your next orbit be filled with endless blessings from Ewya and may you see yourself how I see you.

You see him, he realizes. You’re his supporter, a silent force that consumes every insecurity and swallows every doubt. You believe in him more than he believes in himself.

He stands from the hammock and runs.

You’re sitting in the same tree the two of you had rested in the night you’d confided in Lo’ak, watching as the sun eclipses and begins to light up the sparkling forest.

Something rustles and you sit up, hand on the hilt of your dagger as you search the area for movement.

As your eyes lock on the source, you almost wish it had been a beast coming to devour you whole. But as Lo’ak climbs the branches of the tree quickly, you feel the dread begin to solidify in your veins.

You take your satchel, hanging from a nearby branch and sling it over your shoulder, pulling your shawl over your head to prepare for your escape.

“________, wait,” he chokes breathlessly. “Please.”

You feel like crying all over again, feel so unbelievably stupid thinking that Lo’ak would ever see you the way that you see him.

You pause a beat as he settles on the branch across from yours, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

Something glints in the sun and your eyes widen when you see that Lo’ak has fastened the necklace you made him around his neck, right above the the leather chain that holds his beloved claw charm.

“You’re wearing it,” you whisper, lips twitching into a frown as you try your best to keep your tears at bay.

“I’m sorry, ________,” Lo’ak apologizes hoarsely. “Fuck, you don’t understand how sorry I am.”

The tears well on their own.

We’re not friends. We never were and we never will.

The words haunt you like a broken record and you shake your head, moving from your perch to move down the branches.

“Wait, wait,” Lo’ak pleads. “Please don’t go, I–”

“I hate you,” you whisper. “I hate you, Lo’ak.”

He freezes, watching as you balance on a branch below.

“I tried so hard to be your friend,” you whimper, angrily wiping away your tears. “You’re amazing. You’re strong, and you’re fearless, and you are everything I want to be, but you’re heartless.”

Lo’ak lets out a shuddering breath, a chill running down his spine as you look up at him like he’d smashed every star in the sky.

“I wanted to be with you, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “I hoped that maybe if I stuck it out, you’d see how much I cared, how badly I wanted to be with you, even if it was from a distance.”

“I do, _________, I do!” he argues.

He hadn’t always, but he sees it now. He sees you.

You shake your head again.

“You don’t,” you sigh, voice trembling. “It’s my fault anyways. You were right. You told me to leave you alone and I was being too much.”

“Stop–”

“Let this be the last time,” you assure him. “Let’s just– Let’s pretend we never met.”

“No, _________. Wait!”

You’re climbing down the tree and disappearing into the brush and, like a fleck of ash, you’re disintegrating into nothingness.

Most people think he’s being moody, that he’s just been scolded by his father or older brother, but Neytiri knows better.

She sees the way her son has changed over the course of the past few weeks. She knows there is a great burden that he carries, but much like her beloved and her eldest, he suffers in silence.

“Maitan,” she says quietly, brushing a braid from his face as he folds the leaves around a chunk of steaming meat.

Lo’ak pauses almost imperceptibly, but continues his task.

It isn’t like him to stay home and work with Neytiri. If anything, he’d be the first one out of the tent, Tuk, Spider, and Kiri tailing after him as they galavant through the endless forest.

“Something weighs heavy in your heart,” she tries again, hand coming over his.

Lo’ak stops and leans back, unable to meet his mother’s searching gaze.

“I hurt someone,” he says quietly.

Neytiri stiffens.

“What?”

“I hurt someone I care about,” Lo’ak admits. You’d called him fearless, strong. He needed to live by your word. “I hurt her and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Oh, Lo’ak,” she murmurs, squeezing his hand gently.

Her face has softened as she takes in his stony expression.

“My son, some things cannot be fixed,” she says honestly. “But all things require great effort. Sometimes those efforts will fall through, but that is the natural order of life.”

Lo’ak swallows.

“Whoever this special person is, if you have hurt her, she deserves the full effort of your heart, no?”

You do, he knows you do. You deserve every last effort. But a niggling streak of insecurity tells him that you don’t deserve someone like him. You don’t deserve someone who takes your affections for granted. You deserve someone who will love you with every breath, who will love you fearlessly.

“I really messed things up, Mom,” Lo’ak says quietly. “I don’t…”

Neytiri’s hand comes to Lo’ak chest.

“The night I first met your father, Ewya gave me sign,” she says. “He has a pure, strong heart. You do too.”

Lo’ak swallows.

“Be brave, Maitan,” she says. “Sometimes that is enough.”

Lo’ak’s fingers hurt from picking berries.

His cuticles bleed, pricked by the thorns of the fruit’s bush. Kiri hums beside him, weaving a little bag out of ropes of thin vines.

“You’re not gonna help me?” he whines.

“Why should I help you with your mess?”

You look beautiful under the glow of the evening meal’s crackling fire. It’s the first time you’ve emerged since before Lo’ak’s birthday feast and you’re being flocked by elders and villagers, wishing you well and asking about your supposed ailment.

He sits across the fire, fists tight as he searches for a lull in the crowd.

Spider snickers next to him, devouring the contents of his plate like he’s starved, watching Lo’ak’s useless pining like a show.

Be brave.

He’s standing to his feet before he can back out, crossing the circle to approach you. The villagers watch like they know something he doesn’t and the nerves are eating away at him as he steps into your space.

You look up from your conversation with a girl your age, the smile slipping from your lips.

“Can we talk?” Lo’ak asks, eyes wandering to watch the way everyone watches him.

You remain jaded.

“Now’s not a good time,” you say quietly and a few onlookers snicker in the background. “________,” Lo’ak tries again.

You stare up at him, the shadow of the fire dancing over your features as you seemingly look right through him. It’s humiliating, the way you remain seated and watch him fidget, but he figures he deserves the cold shoulder after months, years of casting you to the side.

“Let’s go?” you ask the girl, nodding your head over your shoulder.

The girl chances a glance between you and Lo’ak, noticing the telltale sign of your work etched into the stones of the choker he hadn’t taken off since his birthday.

She gives him a sympathetic smile as she follows after you.

He’s going to have to try a lot harder than he has, he realizes as your birthday looms right around the corner. The next eclipse, in fact.

He’s losing hope, losing courage, but he can’t give up on you two just yet.

He makes sure the berries he picked the days prior are packed tightly in his bag, the lid to the nectar fastened, and his present wrapped nicely.

It’s his last hope, his last shot to make things right.

Spider, Tuk, and Neytiri surround him, Neteyam and Jake off on a hunt.

They’d all been privy to the fact, aiding him in his endeavors as he organized his final grapple with your heart.

“Kiri said she’ll bring her right before eclipse,” Spider says, peeking from the flap of the tent. “That’s in, like, minutes.”

Lo’ak is nervous. Doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you for good, but he knows he has to give it his best effort. It’s the least you deserve.

Be brave. Sometimes that is enough.

Lo’ak glances at his mom and she gives him a warm smile, ruffling his braids.

“You are the son of Toruk Makto,” she assures him, pinching his cheek. “There is nothing you cannot do.”

The words are carved into his brain as he rushes through the forest, the the stream that the curls and bends through the forest. It glows beautifully at night and that is his final push.

“Wait, give me like three seconds, I left something.” Kiri’s voice is muffled behind the trees.

“Huh?” Lo’ak sees the way your head tilts through an opening in the foliage.

“I’ll only be a second!”

“Wait, Kiri!”

Kiri is running straight for him, comes barreling through the bushes, and continues down the path.

“Good luck, egghead!”

Lo’ak takes in a final breath to quell the tremor in his hands before ducking through the bushes to reveal himself.

You’re sitting on the embankment, on a woven mat that Kiri had laid out for you two, decorative vines edging the seams.

“Oh, you were–”

You peer over your shoulder and your expression falls.

“Lo’ak…”

“Happy birthday, ________,” he breathes.

You don’t look amused, slinging your bag over you shoulder as you rise to your feet.

“Kiri and I are hanging out,” you tell him.

He scratches the back of his head.

“I…I had Kiri bring you here because I knew that you wouldn’t come with me if I asked,” he admits. “And of course, I don’t blame you, but I– I just really need to talk to you.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, unable to look him in his eyes as he draws nearer.

“Just give me some time, please,” he pleads.

You finally meet his gaze, searching his eyes as he looks down at you earnestly.

You give him the tiniest nod, reluctantly shedding your satchel to reassume your seat on the mat.

The waters rush gently, like a song as Lo’ak lowers himself next to you.

His palms are clammy as he fidgets in his seat, the scent of herbs and flowers wafting from your dewy skin. He can’t bring himself to look at you, afraid that every sentiment he’d crafted in the hours of the night will escape him, so he watches the bubbling of the stream.

“Well?” you whisper, like you don’t want to shatter the fragile sheath of peace that layers you.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I know I’ve said it already, but I really am, ________.”

“I know,” you murmur and his gaze flits to yours. “Even if you don’t act like it, you have a good heart, Lo’ak. You feel everything, even the things you don’t want to.”

He swallows.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says carefully. “I was mad and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

You sit silently, knees hugged to your chest. Your cheek rests against your knee, watching Lo’ak with seeing eyes. It makes him trip over his words.

“My whole life, I’ve always been compared to Neteyam,” he says. “The entire village would whisper about me and how I was nothing like the mighty warrior.”

When he glances at you, he notices your fingers twitch, like you want to reach out to him.

He squashes his fears and turns to face you, five-fingered hand coming up to thread with your four. You watch the union, uncertainty obvious in the way you tense, but Lo’ak squeezes.

“And then when we started growing up, you were just another person I had to live up to,” Lo’ak whispers. “You’re perfect, ________. You’re kind, and you’re smart, talented. You’re everything I’m not and it made me hate you.”

You shrink, but Lo’ak pulls you towards him, hand coming up to brush your cheek.

“But you’re all of that and more,” he continues, the words gushing like a river. “You’re always there, you support me and you defend me and see things I don’t.”

You become shy under his gaze because for the first time, he’s seeing you. He’s seeing you for every single thing you’ve been to him and it makes your stomach knot.

“I have something to tell you,” he says. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Your gaze is soft, palm still in his as he turns and reaches into the bag he discarded next to him. Your eyes widen when he produces your notebook, edges curled the slightest as he hands it to you.

“My journal,” you say, taking it from him quickly. “I’ve been looking for this. Why- Why do you have it?”

He looks guilty, lips rolling as he avoids your gaze.

“Did you…”

“I wasn’t going to,” he admits. “But there were woodsprites and I knew it was a s–”

“Lo’ak this is private,” you murmur incredulously. “Why would you read this?”

“How long, ________?” he asks quietly, grip on your hand tightening.

“Lo’ak, don’t–”

“How long?” he presses desperately.

Your eyes are watering, like that wicked night all over again and Lo’ak begs Eywa for the final push.

“Since we were ten,” you whisper brokenly. “It was my first performance and it was so stupid, but I was throwing up because I was nervous and you talked me through it.”

Lo’ak is stunned, the memory like the faintest of outlines.

“We didn’t even know each other that well,” you hiccup. “But you patted me on the back and you gave me this–”

You pull your fingers from his grasp and flip the journal to the last page, revealing a hidden pocket. Your nimble fingers pull a tattered string, the remnants of a vine, threaded with wilted flower petals, preserved from being pressed inside your notebook.

“You said that they made you make it during lessons,” you say, breath hitching. “That it’d be my good luck.”

He’d forgotten all about the memory completely, too caught up in driving whatever wedge he could between you two, building up walls to seal you out.

“And you kept it this whole time?” he asks, face scrunched in disbelief.

“I’d hold on to anything you give me,” you admit in defeat. “Heartbreak included.”

He lets out a shaky breath.

“________, I’m so sorry,” he repeats, hand coming up to your neck. “You have to know that. I’m really fucking stupid, but if you give us a shot, I won’t mess it up.”

Your hand comes up to his wrist, crumpling as you bow your head.

“Don’t do this to me,” you beg, moving to break away from him.

“Please.”

His hold tightens, other hand twining with yours.

“If I…if I give myself to you, I’m giving you everything,” you say hesitantly. “If you break this, you break me. I don’t think I can come back from this.”

Lo’ak presses his forehead to yours, breath warm against your lips as he searches your gaze for any semblance of hope.

“This is me being fearless, ________,” he whispers.

You melt, pressing your lips to his tentatively. He’s frozen for the shortest of moments before relenting, pushing up onto his knees to deepen the kiss.

He’s cradling your face and your hands are wandering and Lo’ak can’t help but think he could get used to loving you.

To being loved by you.

BONUS

“I was gonna give it to you on your birthday,” Lo’ak says sheepishly a few nights later under the stars. “But, you know…”

Your usual place among the branches of the looming trees have a lot of memories both bitter and sweet, but you suppose you could make new ones.

“You don’t have to give me anything,” you say sweetly, tail swishing to wrap around his ankle. “You’re all I need.”

Lo’ak doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to your saccharine words if the pounding in his chest is anything to go by.

His hands are shaky as he pushes the hide towards you, a bow made of vine tied neatly around the gift.

“Wanted to,” he says simply, moving the hair from you face to see your reaction better. “Open it.”

You’re gentle with the present, like you are with most things, but eager to see what he’d gotten you.

A tiny gasp falls from your lips when you finally see it, wide eyes meeting his as you free the jars of paints he’d mashed up, the brushes he fashioned, and the brand new journal he bound himself.

“Lo’ak, wow…”

“So you can paint me more,” he says, then adds timidly. “Or maybe us. Maybe you could paint us.”

an — holy shit guys, this was such a big project for me because i really wanted to dive into so many different things in this fic. to everyone who was waiting patiently, thank you sososo much. as usual, i took a lot of creative liberties with this one, but i hope you guys enjoyed nonetheless! although requests are paused for me to catch up, like always, if you wanna chat with me about literally anything, my askbox is open. lots of love hehehe :) xx

taglist: @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn

#lo'ak x reader #lo'ak sully #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #avatar #atwow #avatar the movie #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak avatar #lo'ak angst #lo'ak fanfiction

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