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motherlvr · 11 months

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3+1 times Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! reader

SPOILERS FOR ATSV

read part 2 here!

3 times Miles tried to confess, + 1 time he did.

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Instead of the radioactive spider biting Miles, it bit you. You turned into Brooklyn's one and only Spider-woman, while Miles turned into the prowler. Miles also helps you with Spanish.

Warnings: friends to lovers, lots of cursing, most definitely not canon, kind of slow-burn?, jealousy, morally gray reader, he's lowkey toxic, no smut, heated make-out session, im feasting on crumbs (his 2 minutes of screen time), this is not ATSV plot heavy, the whole prowler x spidey thing isn't really until the end (enemies to lovers)

A/N: for the sake of the plot, the reader doesn't fluently speak spanish, but can speak some. this has been rotting in my drafts ever since ATSV came out

Miles glares at you two from across the room, predominantly at the guy you're laughing with. Surely he's not that fucking funny. Miles thinks as jealousy spreads within the pit of his stomach like a forest fire. However, you don't seem to notice his stare burning holes through the guy you're speaking to. The same cannot be said for him, however. Miles makes eye contact with him and sends him one glare that immediately makes the poor guy cower with fear away from you.

"I uh...gotta go." The guy squeaks out to you, his voice cracking with terror as he runs away. You raise an eyebrow as you watch him run away. What the hell was that? You think.

Miles appears next to you within the next moment and says, "Hey, ma." he gives you a slight smirk and wraps his arm around your shoulders. That smirk made you weak in your knees, you almost kissed him right then and there. You should be given an award for your amount of self-restraint.

"Hey Miles, qué pasa?" You greet him with a smile that reaches your eyes. Miles' smirk drops and he furrows his eyebrows at you as he inquires. "Who was that guy?" "He's just a friend, why?" You raise an eyebrow and question back. "Don't worry about it, you like him?" His words catch you off guard. You pause for a moment and turn your head to him with a judgmental stare as you shake his arm off you and say, "Miles. What is this? 20 questions?" You deadpan and continue, "He's not important, alright?" Seemingly satisfied with your response, he drops the subject.

After school, Miles and you head to his house. You've been struggling in Spanish class. Spanish grammar might actually be the death of me, you think. Since Miles excels in Spanish due to primarily being raised by his mother, you asked him to tutor you, which he surprisingly agreed to.

It doesn't hurt that you get to spend more time with Miles, either. Something about him never fails to send butterflies straight to your stomach, maybe it's his intense stare that makes you weak in your knees, his accent that somehow makes him ten times more attractive, or- You cut your thoughts off. You felt guilty for feeling this way about Miles. You know you shouldn't. These feelings you harbor would only cause more harm than good. After all, the people you love always seem to be in danger.

After a couple of hours of pure torture, (Spanish grammar) Miles started to speak, "Escúchame, mami. I-"

Loud, blaring police sirens cut off his sentence. Thanks, Brooklyn. Pretending to get a message from your mother, you glance at your phone's screen and look at Miles with an apologetic expression, "Shit, sorry Miles but I gotta go. My mother wants me home. She said it was urgent. But we're still on for tomorrow right?" Miles raises a skeptical eyebrow but ultimately says, "Yea. It's 'Ight, princesa. See you tomorrow" his accent lacing his words. You get up to kiss his cheek and wave him goodbye. As normal friends do, you tell yourself. Shit. You shake the thoughts away before your overthinking completely undoes your brain.

You wait until you're at least a couple blocks away from his house before you reveal the spider suit underneath your clothing and pull your mask down your face. You thwip your webs and swing away to investigate what crime was scheming tonight in Brooklyn. Leaving Miles alone in his room to regret not telling you.

Honestly, you weren't paying attention to whatever Miles was saying. Instead, you were just focusing on how attractive you found his accent. You'd suffer through two more years of Spanish just to hear his voice. In fact, during most of these tutoring lessons with Miles, you weren't paying attention to the actual lesson. It doesn't help that he keeps staring at you with those eyes of his. But behind that cold exterior, you knew he had a soft spot for you. Even if he didn't outright admit it.

Miles' voice brought your attention back to the actual lesson, "Lo entiendes, princesa?" Miles asked you with a knowing smirk. You nodded your head immediately, trying to play it off. "Uhh, si." You said with a thumbs up, immediately regretting it. That was so nerdy. You shame yourself in your mind. You pretended to take notes, shamefully lowering your head down to your notebook.

While you were pretending to take notes, Miles broke the silence.

"So what's up with you and that guy from earlier?" "I told you, he's just a friend. Nothing is going on between us." Miles puts his hands up in his defense, "Alright, mami. It just didn't look like that with the way you were laughing at whatever he said. He's not Kevin Hart."

Way to completely ruin the mood. You dropped the pencil you were holding and stopped taking notes. Looking directly into his eyes, you said "Miles, I really don't know what your deal is." "You really wanna know what 'my deal is'? 'Ight. It's 'cause-"

Miles' phone beeps, interrupting him. He cursed in his mind, not being able to tell you how he felt yet again. He glances down at his screen. "Ay princesa," Miles spoke up, his words never failing to make your face go warm. His nicknames for you weren't new by any means, but they still made your heart flutter. He continued, "Uncle Aaron needs me, I gotta roll. He said it's an emergency. Don't think I'm trying to cut this short. You're still my girl, alright?" He started to leave when he turned around suddenly. He walked over to you and turned your head to him with his hand, kissing your forehead. "Hasta luego, mami." He left the room, leaving you alone in his room with only your thoughts swirling around your mind. You were sure you were about to have a heart attack. His girl? The kiss? Miles was acting oddly affectionate. And what's with him practically using the same excuse I used? It's not like he's the crime-fighting vigilante here. You rolled your eyes.

You didn't know what Miles and his uncle were so busy doing, but you had a feeling that it wasn't very morally right. That would explain how ambiguous he's been lately. More often than not, he's had to leave in the middle of tutoring to tend to whatever his Uncle needed him for. But you can't entirely blame him, you have secrets you've been hiding from him too.

You packed up your things and left his room. "Chao, Mrs. Morales. Thank you for letting me into your home!" You said to Miles' mother while leaving. "Of course, you're always welcome here." She replied to you with a warm smile. That woman was a true saint.

If you had to spend any more time confined in a room alone with Miles and just your emotions, you were sure you'd fucking lose it. By losing it, I mean grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and kissing him senseless. But you were afraid. Afraid that he would take your heart right out of your chest to shatter it and then leave you alone to pick up the pieces. So, you came up with a little white lie to get out of tutoring today.

"Is it alright with you if I skip tutoring today? My mother is sick and I have to take care of her." The lie slipped off your tongue like butter.

"Nah that's cool." He shrugs. Huh. He let me off that easy? You were two seconds away from having the dreaded 'What are we?' conversation with him after last night, until someone's arms wrap around you from behind.

"Hey, beautiful." Your friend from the other day was back. And he clearly didn't see Miles right next to you. You cringe and awkwardly take his arms off of you and turn around, "Hey, Josh." "Are you free tonight?" Miles was watching this interaction with jealousy coursing through his veins. Did this douche seriously not see him right next to you? Right before you could even open your mouth to respond, Miles responds for you. "Hell no she isn't. Get the fuck out of here, man." Miles snaps at him. Your friend's head whipped to Miles so fast you were sure he'd get whiplash. "Oh shit." He stuttered, "Sorry, man. I didn't see you...I'll leave now." He ran away as fast as his feet could take him. Poor Josh.

You glared at Miles. "What the actual fuck was that, Miles? He was just asking me a question." "He was asking you out, idiot." Miles said right back to you. "So what if he was? Honestly. What's it to you? You've been acting so possessive. May I remind you that we are not together?" You snapped at him. "Maybe I want-" He started, but this time, he was the one cutting his sentence off. He couldn't find the words to tell you just yet.

The bell rings. You look at Miles, awaiting his response. When a few silent moments pass by, you finally say, "What? What is it you want?" For once in your friendship with Miles, he didn't have a response. You, he thought. "Y'know what Miles? Until you've come to your senses, just leave me be for now." He had no right to start acting like you were bound to him. You walked to your class without him. He cursed himself in his head.

You'd been ignoring him the whole day. Yet ever the petty, he hadn't messaged you at all.

Your phone pings. "You busy with Jake?" You read. It was from Miles. That petty fucker. Your face immediately drops. That's not even his name. You left him on read and turn off your phone. For someone who thinks he's heartless and nonchalant, he sure was acting possessive.

Dusk approaches Brooklyn and you're out patrolling instead of thinking about Miles. That's all you've been doing lately, and you needed a distraction.

Unfortunately, Miles had the same idea. He was out taking missions Kingpin gave him.

As you were searching the streets of Brooklyn for crime, you sensed a presence. Ahead of you was a silhouette in a dimly lit alley, their back facing you. You hid behind the wall. Finally something interesting tonight! As you climb on the walls and get closer, you recognize the figure.

Oh, great. It's the Prowler.

This wasn't your first time meeting the Prowler. No, you've fought with him in the past. He's ruthless and a cold-blooded killer. He's efficient and excruciatingly fast. That's what makes him an imminent risk to be allowed to roam the streets freely.

As Spider-woman, it's your responsibility to keep the streets of Brooklyn crime-free. So, you follow him. As you're trailing behind him, crawling on the walls, you notice the people he's meeting with. It's an arms deal, you realize. As you crawl closer, you notice that they weren't regular arms. They were abnormally high-tech for these seemingly harmless criminals.

I'll just web up the couple of amateurs and then deal with the big guy Prowler, easy. Oh how wrong you were.

"Hey, boys! Nice toy you've got there." You said as you dropped your voice down an octave, disguising your voice. You jump down from your place on the wall and thwip your webs at the unsuspecting arms dealers, binding them to the wall. They were knocked unconscious.

You thwip'd your webs at the weapon and effectively took it away from them. You'd have to drop it by the police station later with a friendly note.

The Prowler lunged at you, his steel claws missing your face by an inch.

"Hey, man! That felt a little personal." You shouted, thankful to still have your face attached to your head. You used your webs to grab onto the Prowler and strike him directly on his mask. You started to run, with the Prowler tailing right behind you.

He had you cornered, but you weren't surrendering that easily. You positioned into a defensive stance, ready to defend yourself.

His mask was cracked a bit, causing his voice modulator to reveal his unfiltered voice. "Nowhere to run, spider."

Your heart dropped as your eyes widened through your mask. Not in fear, but in recognition. You could recognize that voice anywhere. That was the voice that sent shivers down your whole body, yet made you want to strangle him the next.

"...Miles?" The words came out more of a whisper. Your voice sputtered as you dropped your fake voice. You webbed the weapon to the wall, disregarding it. Turns out, he didn't need to reject you to shatter your heart into a million pieces.

His stance immediately faltered. He could recognize your voice out of a thousand others.

Prowler, or rather Miles, stood silent.

“Miles, take off that damn mask. I know it's you.” You took off your mask, and he opened his. His eyes were unreadable. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into Miles?" You sighed. You didn't recognize him anymore. You didn't know who he was. There was no way the Miles you knew had become this.

"Fuck, princesa. I didn't want you to get involved in this shit. You're the fucking spider?" You feel as if he was seeing you for the first time again. "I'm fucking Spider-woman, you dick. And I've been involved with this 'shit' ever since I got bit by a spider. Now explain this, whatever you've turned into!" You spurted out, pointing at his suit. "I got roped into business with Kingpin after my father died. Shit, I never meant for this to happen." He exclaimed.

"What, you think you're protecting me by not telling me? Bullshit." You say, throwing your hands up in the air. "I was protecting you. I was protecting you from Kingpin. Because I fucking love you. I meant it when I said you were my girl." He proclaimed.

When you thought this night couldn't get any wilder, it just did.

Alarms blared in the back of your mind, telling you to leave. Your brain is screaming at you to think about your moral obligation to stop the Prowler, no matter who he is. But your heart is telling you otherwise. You choose the latter.

"Fuck, Miles. Shut the hell up." You threw a web at his abdomen and pulled him towards you, efficiently shutting him up by connecting your lips to his. Sliding your hands onto his braids, you pulled him in closer. He immediately reciprocated and grinned into the kiss, setting his arms on your hips.

Turning into a heated make-out session, he backed you against the wall of the alley. You felt your legs giving out on you. Miles put his knee in between your legs, supporting you. He kissed you with passion. He's pinned for you for the longest time, and he finally has you. He wasn't going to give it up for anything. Unfortunately, you needed oxygen to live, so you pulled back. A string of saliva connected your lips as you parted.

He took away all the oxygen in your body, and apparently your moral compass as well, with only one kiss. Unable to open your eyes until a few moments after, you fluttered your eyes open. "I fucking love you too, Miles" You whispered against his lips. "Oh, really? Couldn't tell." He teased with a smirk, his lips seconds away from yours as he looked down at you. He held your gaze with longing in his eyes.

Muffled screams ruined the moment. Miles and you react immediately, putting your masks back on. You got your webs ready while Miles had his steel daggers out. Lowering your guards, you realize it was the couple of guys you webbed up and forgot. "Sorry, I'll go take care of them." You said as you rubbed the back of your head awkwardly. Miles stifled a laugh as he said, "That's alright, ma. You can make it up to me later." You heard the smugness in his voice as you swung away to the police station. You made sure to fulfill his request later that night.

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part 2!

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #into the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #prowler miles #miles morales spider man #spider man #spiderman into the spiderverse #jealousy #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers

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love-bitesx · 11 months

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: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader

summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!

“is it home-time already, darlin’?”

there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.

“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.

“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.

“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.

it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;

“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”

his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.

laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.

he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.

it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.

you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~

“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.

“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.

“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”

“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.

“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.

“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.

you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.

his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.

deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.

“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.

“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.

a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.

“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.

“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.

“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.

“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.

hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.

it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.

when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.

after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.

“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.

stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.

shit.

you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?

grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.

“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.

“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.

wait, above?

craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.

“spider-man?”

and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.

“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”

“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”

“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.

“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.

“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.

“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.

“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”

“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”

ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.

“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”

his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.

he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.

“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”

“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”

“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.

his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.

“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.

“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.

“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.

you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.

“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.

“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.

“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”

the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.

“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”

“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.

he always did hate consistency, anyway.

“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.

“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.

“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.

“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.

“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.

turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.

it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.

he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.

but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.

he was fucked. well and truly.

“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.

“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”

your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.

stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.

“what’s up?” you questioned.

“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.

you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.

“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”

it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.

“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.

“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.

untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.

“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”

and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?

shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.

insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.

“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.

gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.

“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.

“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.

“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”

he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.

“are you o—“

“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.

it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.

without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.

your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.

“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.

embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.

he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.

his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.

pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.

“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”

you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.

“like, a lot.”

he kissed you again. and again.

a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!

#hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #hobie #atsv hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie x reader #spiderman atsv #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk #spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader

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reminiscingtonight · 9 days

Text

Creepy Crawlers

Lia Wälti x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

[WOSO Masterlist]

It’s quiet on the drive over to practice.

Despite your occasional attempts to engage Lia into conversation, the Swiss midfielder resolutely stares out the passenger side window, lips turned down and set into a frown.

When you finally pull up to the training grounds, you’re hoping things have blown over a bit. You give her a goofy grin, but it quickly turns into a grimace when Lia ignores your presence and shoulders past you into the training facility.

You’re like a lost dog when you trail behind her into the locker room.

Everyone notices the rift between the two of you instantly.

“Oi, what did the missus do today?” Katie laughs, though the laughter quickly dies on her tongue when she receives a frosty glare from the Swiss.

The Irish woman turns around to you, eyes wide as she mouths ‘what did you do?’ Everyone knows that Lia’s the sweetest person to ever walk the earth. So for her to outwardly express her displeasure?

You shake your head, turning towards your own locker.

It’s stupid how something so small can spoil your own mood. You’re used to morning kisses, arms wrapped around your lover’s on the way in. You’re used to morning coffees basking in each other’s presence, the occasional joke at your expense sprinkled in here and there. Lia’s never not given you the attention you crave before practice, and it’s absolutely ruining your day.

Your eyes are downcast when you trudge onto the field. Teammates from all sides of the field are steering clear of both of you, not sure what’s gone on to cause such a distance between the Arsenal “it” couple.

Leah, on the other hand, has no qualms getting deep and personal. While everyone else tries to pretend nothing’s going on, your best friend throws an arm around your shoulder, ignoring your mumbled “get off.”

“What did you do?” Leah gives you a nudge, nearly sending you sprawling forward.

There’s a second where you think about not answering.

But you’re so sad. And your heart really can’t take it anymore.

You’re willing to take any advice given, even if it comes from a 27 year old child.

“We have an uninvited guest living with us right now.”

Leah tilts her head, eyebrow raising in question.

You sigh, shaking your head. “Lia found a spider in the shower this morning,” you explain.

“And?” Leah questions, not seeing the connection.

“Well she wanted me to kill it.”

Your best friend frowns. “I thought you’re afraid of spiders.”

“I am! Lia still thinks I should take care of the uninvited creepy crawlers though.”

There’s a moment of silence as Leah looks you up and down. Clearly she can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, but one look at the longing glances you keep sending over your shoulder to Lia, Leah’s more than convinced that the two of you are ridiculous.

And she tells you exactly that.

You roll your eyes when she does, but Leah instantly gets suspicious when you wipe the annoyed look off your face. Hand tightening around Leah’s arm, you lean in close to her, giving her your best smile.

“Any chance you’re free tonight?”

“Depends.”

“Are you willing to get rid of it for me?” You bat your eyelashes at her, hoping to sway her into helping you.

Leah snorts, shoving you away. “Nope. Have fun with that.”

Lia ignores you the entire day.

You try saving her a seat at lunch. She grabs her tray and drops into a spot beside Steph, not sparing you a glance.

You approach her to ask if she’d like to be your spotter at weight training. She walks right past you and plucks Kyra away from Alessia.

No matter how many times you try catching her attention, Lia simply turns her back to you and walks away.

By the end of the day you’ve had it.

When the girls are all changing, getting ready to head home, you make a quick pit stop. You thought long and hard about it, not really wanting to go to such extremes, but at the end of the day you’d rather have a bruised ego if it meant doing what’s best for your relationship.

Lia’s standing by the car when you finally emerge from the locker room. Her arms are crossed, foot tapping impatiently as she waits for you to arrive.

It’s habitual, the way you instantly reach for the bag on her shoulder, holding it in your own hand as you open her car door for her. The way Lia doesn’t stop you has you breathing out a sigh of relief, thinking you’ve finally broken through to her.

Oh how you’re wrong.

When you purse your lips up, expecting the kiss she always gifts you before slipping into her seat, you instead receive a hard stare before the door slams shut in your face.

Sighing, you trudge to the back of the car, popping up the trunk to place both of your bags in.

There’s an underlying tension when you start driving home. From the corner of your eyes you can see Lia’s jaw still clenched tight, her eyes steadily focused somewhere off in the distance. Even changing the radio station to the type of music she likes can’t break the frown on her lips.

It’s so stifling and all you want is your girlfriend back.

As the minutes tick down and you get closer and closer to home, you know you have to break the air. You have to give your girlfriend a word of warning in the slim chance you guys don’t make it home first. There’s really no good time to say it, but there’s an annoying smirk playing in the back of your mind, the conversation you just had still ringing in your ears.

As casually as you can, you hum out: “So I invited Caitlin over later.”

It’s a bit worrying how quick Lia whips her head towards you. Her hand slams against the stereo, shutting off the music. Silence fills the car as Lia’s eyebrows draw together, mouth opening and closing a few times in confusion. “Caitlin Foord? Like my ex-girlfriend Caitlin Foord?”

You nod, nervously swallowing.

“Why?” She sounds bewildered and a little bit concerned all at the same time.

You groan. “Babe, I am not killing that spider and it’s obvious you aren’t going to either. We both know Cait is more than happy to help us deal with our uninvited guest.”

“Well won’t that be… weird?”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Why would it be?”

Lia gives you a look like you’re stupid. “She’s my ex.”

“We’re all adults here, Lee,” you roll your eyes, internally laughing at the face Lia pulls at your response.

“Okay, well it’s up to you.”

You shrug. “As long as you don’t break up with me over this, I think I’ll be fine.”

A beat passes as you cruise down the street.

Another beat passes as you turn the corner.

Then,

“Well now that I think about it--”

Lia has to hide her laughter when you slam on the breaks.

#lia walti x reader #lia walti imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

Text

“Oh, come on, there’s just —” Will blows an errant curl from out of his eyes, cheeks red with exertion, balancing nimbly on his feet to put both hands on his hips. “There’s no way, Nico.”

Nico, not blessed with such balance, has to hold all footholds with all limbs, staring warily at the lava wall’s snake holes.

“What? I’m just not as good as you.”

Will flops his right arm outwards, narrowly avoiding smacking it against the rock. “But you are!”

Nico shifts his wary gaze from the snake holes to Will’s rope harness. Is it tight enough? It better be tight enough. Will is putting a lot of faith in it, right now.

“You scaled those cliffs in — in the place —” he trips, still, over the pit, on the odd time he mentions it, and it always makes Nico wince — “like it was nothing! And whenever Percy visits and challenges you you’re suddenly the lava wall expert!” He turns stern blue eyes to face Nico’s head-on. “Not buying it, di Angelo!”

A gush of lava forces him to resume climbing, but there’s an aggression to his movements — a specific, stiff, curated aggression, that Nico has learned means anxiety in people known as William Andrew Solace. That, and coupled with the rapid muttering which, in between the roar of molten stone, Nico believes is a a repetition of “dumbass” “always tryna act a goddamn fool” and “I’m gonna kill him before he sends me into cardiac arrest again”, interspersed with random swears in English, Latin, Ancient Greek, and also — gods — Klingon.

“Will.”

Will ignores him, scampering the last few feet up the wall and slapping the top before relaying down. Nico sighs, following him (albeit significantly slower).

“Will.”

“You’re hiding something from me.” He practically rips the harness off his body — do not think about that do not think about that do not think about that — and shoves it on the hook so hard it damn near snaps off. The look he levels in Nico’s direction practically turns him to stone, it’s so frigid, and he has to resist a shiver. “I can tell.”

It takes a good amount of pushing to make Will all testy like this. Sure, his buttons are easy to push, but most of that is for show. He likes to be dramatic. (Especially because he knows Nico will indulge him, more than anyone else ever has. He relishes in it, Nico thinks; he likes that Nico will watch his productions. An Apollo kid through and through.) He’s not usually one to show his genuine frustration.

But, hoo, boy, when he is frustrated.

Nico has a bad, bad habit of making it worse.

(As if it’s his fault that Will’s hot when he’s mad.)

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico says, forcibly lightly. He sticks his hand out defiantly. “Check me, why don’t you? Not hiding anything.”

He really isn’t. No injuries, no illness, hell, he’s not even tired. Had a full three meals and everything. Even his perpetually achey joints aren’t bad today.

All of this, obviously, is communicated when Will touches him, squinting suspiciously at their joined hands.

“You’re heart rate is high,” he mutters petulantly.

Nico looks at him patiently. “That’s ‘cause my smokeshow boyfriend is holding my hand.”

Grumpy as he’s trying to be, his ears redden. A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up.”

Nico grins, pulling his hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the knuckles.

“No.”

“Whatever,” Will says, snatching his hand back. His smile spreads widely across his face, now, and he looks away, as pleased as he is exasperated. “You’re still being a weirdo. I should not be so far ahead of you on the wall, Neeks.”

Success — back to nicknames. Crisis averted.

“Have you considered that you’re the camp-wide record holder for a reason, you spider monkey?”

“Still!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico gets up on his tiptoes, pressing a lingering kiss to the bridge of his freckled nose. “Stop worrying about me, Solace. I’m fine. Burn off some steam, I’ll watch.”

Will huffs. “Fine. But I’ll find out, y’hear me? Truth can’t hide from me for long.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He watches as Will suits back up, helping him with his more complicated straps (because Nico was raised to be a gentleman, obviously, why else) and shooing him away when he opens his mouth for more interrogations. He switches to sticking out his tongue, and after a moment of hesitation, bounds back over to his first true love — being a big nerdy jock dork.

Nico settles on the grass several feet away from the wall, pretending to clean his sword. After a few minutes, he hears footsteps, and two people sit next to him on either side.

“So,” says Lou Ellen, ignoring Nico’s suspicious look as she tosses a glowing ball of something around, “how come you’re not climbing?”

Nico shrugs. “Only so many times you can climb before it gets boring.”

On his other side, Cecil makes a loud buzzer sound.

“Nope! Wrong answer. Try again.”

Nico is a dignified grownup who refuses to stoop down to Cecil’s level by responding. Instead, he reaches over and pokes him in his ridiculously sensitive ribs, hard, sending him sprawling with a screech.

“Shut up,” he says mildly, as his friend flails. “I’m trying to be a supportive boyfriend, and I can’t do that with all your whining.”

Will has, in the ten minutes since he started, made it halfway up the wall. He seems to have it programmed to the Super Extra Mega Evil Insane mode that the Athena and Ares kids invented just for him, since he smoked all the other levels. He dodges a shot of lava with a laugh, throwing himself to the side and hanging on with three fingers and one scuffed sneaker poised on the tiniest sliver of rock. His attention is broken when Lou Ellen sticks her face right in Nico’s field of vision, tracing Nico’s eyeline with narrowed eyes.

“Ah,” she nods knowingly. “You’re staring at his ass.”

Nico falters, damn near slicing his own fingers off. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he says blithely. He gestures without looking at his sword. “I’m busy, see?”

She scoffs. “Real busy. That’s why you almost just did emergency surgery on yourself.”

“Exactly.”

Will pushes up a foot, shifting his hips and launching himself upwards. He makes a little shout of victory, plastering himself to the wall to keep balance, every muscle tensed.

From his place on the floor, Cecil makes an appreciative noise. “He does have a nice ass. Can’t blame you for looking.”

Nico frowns. “Hey. Stop objectifying my boyfriend.” He reaches out and smacks a hand over Cecil’s eyes. “That’s my job.”

“You guys are ridiculous.”

Nico reaches over and puts a hand over her eyes, too, ‘cause there’s no missing where they’re pointed.

“Shut up or I’ll literally put shadows into your retinae and blind you forever,” Nico threatens. (Is this a thing he can do? No. Do his friends know this? Also no.)

“You’re a dictator!” Cecil protests.

“Depriving us of basic human rights!” Lou Ellen agrees.

Nico shrugs. He glances back up the the climbing wall, where he has a very perfect view — and a great reason to never even try to climb faster than Will does. He grins.

“Too bad for you guys.”

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loaksky · 1 year

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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vivwritesfics · 2 months

Text

Spider-Man Kiss

One particularly bad crash lands her in hospital, out for the count. Max, Lando and Charles visit her every single day. While she's out the reader lives several different lives. The one thing they all have in common? Her boys

Max Verstappen x Reader, Lando Norris x reader, Charles Leclerc x reader

Any suggestions for the fandoms used in the next part would be much appreciated!! I'm thinking maybe pjo, maybe harry potter, maybe star wars but im not sure

The Second Part The Third Part

Huge thanks to @cheriladycl01 for their help with this one

The Ferrari hadn’t felt right all afternoon. But her engineers insisted that there was nothing wrong with the car, that she should keep driving. So, she did just that. Qualifying had been good, not the best, but good, and she’d started in fourth.

But then she was overtaken by a Mercedes. She wasn’t sure what Mercedes; she just knew it was a Mercedes. The car fell apart after that. It wasn’t long before she lost control of the car. Her back tyre clipped the corner and sent her flying into the barriers.

The session was red flagged when she didn’t climb out of her car or respond on the radio. “What happened?” Asked Max Verstappen as he led the rest of grid into the pit lane. His engineer didn’t tell him right away. He let Max stop his car before he told him.

Charles and Lando had been behind her. Charles himself had almost been involved in the accident, having followed close behind. “Fuck, Y/N!” He shouted as it happened. With no other choice but to keep driving, Charles looked in his mirrors, trying to watch for her leaving the car. At the red flag he was panicking. This couldn’t have been good news.

“Holy shit,” Lando found himself saying as he drove past the Ferrari in the barriers. “Is she okay?” But nobody had an answer for him.

She was pulled out of the car and placed onto a stretcher. She was out cold as they placed her in the ambulance and drove away. As soon as her car was removed from the barrier the race resumed. But neither of the three drivers could concentrate. All she had been told was that she was alive, but they couldn’t stop worrying about her.

For maybe the first time in all of their careers, they couldn’t wait for the race to end. It was a foreign sensation, and none of them liked it. The podium wasn’t for celebrating, and none of them were filled with enthusiasm as they covered one another in champagne.

As soon as they could they raced to the hospital to be by her side. It wasn’t an easy sight, seeing her lying on the hospital bed, connected to a drip. “Oh my God,” whispered Lando as he slipped in the seat beside her and took her hand. Max sat on a small space on her bed and Charles leaned against the wall beside the bed.

Videos of the crash had been all over social media. The boys couldn’t go into Instagram without seeing it. Sure, the captions and comments were all wishing her well, but it was still hard to see. “I wonder what she’s dreaming about,” Charles said quietly, almost sadly as he petted her hair.

“I hope it’s something nice,” Max said, kissing the side of her head.

***

The party was in full swing. The drinks were flowing, and Y/N had already had plenty. Charles stood behind the bar, serving with a sultry smile, and Lewis entertained his guests. She sat beside Daniel, leaning against him as she sipped her drink. He was speaking to Max, a man who still refused to acknowledge everyone.

Lewis and Max didn’t get along. It was understandable, Max had been an unstoppable killing machine, and he’d killed Lewis’s parents. But they’d saved the world together, and he was giving him a chance.

The Iron Man, in his strapping suit, walked past and offered Y/N his hand. “Dance with me,” Lewis said and she happily obliged, handing Daniel her drink to look after.

Daniel may have been Australian, but he was still Captain America. He certainly loved this country enough to be their Captain America. He protected Y/N’s drink as he continued talking to Max. Misunderstood Max, who had been his best friend all those years ago. Max, who had been ripped away from him in the war. Max, who wasn’t the same man he used to be now that he was returned to him.

“Where’s Lando?” She asked as she danced with him.

Lewis shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, you know kids. He’s probably swinging about somewhere.”

She gave him a look, one that said she was unimpressed. “You didn’t invite him, did you?” She asked, and Lewis looked at the floor, still slightly smiling. “Lewis! He really looks up to you,” she said and stepped away from him.

“Hey!” Lewis called after her. “Where are you going?”

“To get him!” She called back as she grabbed her coat. Lewis, Max and Daniel watched as she walked out of the tower they called home.

Lando wasn’t an easy guy to find. He didn’t answer his phone when he was in his suit, swinging from building to building. The easiest way to find him was to look up (and follow the news articles).

Currently, Lando was sat on top of the building opposite Lewis’s, watching as the party went on without him. He’d just so happened to land on the building opposite during his nightly patrol, and it was just a little heart breaking. He didn’t see as Y/N left the party to go find him, just continued to watch as Pierre sat on the bar as Charles poured drinks.

Using news sites, Y/N found herself on the next roof over. Lando didn’t spot her. But she certainly spotted him. As quickly as she could, she left the roof and ran over to the next building.

Lando knew she was there before she opened the door. Well, he knew that somebody was there. He stood up in an almost protective stance, waiting for her to push open the door to the roof.

"Lan?" She called softly as she walked towards him. "What're you doing up here?"

He pulled his mask off as he strode towards her. "Having fun at the party?" He asked somewhat bitterly.

She gave him a look. "C'mon," she said, reaching for him. "Lewis meant to invite you but he never got around to it. I came to get you."

But Lando didn't believe her. Of course he didn't. She stepped up to him and ran her fingers through his hair. They'd always been close, and, as much as he wanted to kiss her, he couldn't. Not yet.

Lando bit the inside of his cheek. He wrapped his arms around her and looked down at her, waiting for her next move. "I left the party to come get you," she said as she gently swayed from side to side. "How about you swing us across and we can crash the party," she said.

He pulled his mask back over his face and wrapped on arms around her. "Hold on tight," he said and she squeezed her arms around him.

Lando swung them across. He shot a web at Lewis's tower and swung them both across, landing them on the helicopter pad. Even once they had landed Lando still had his arms around her. She giggled and pulled his mask off as she grabbed a hold of him and pulled him through the tower.

The party was dwindling down. Daniel and Max were still there, as was Charles and Pierre. Esteban was pulling on his coat, heading out, and Lewis was surveying everything from the landing above.

"Sorry we're late," said Y/N as she pulled Lando over to the bar. Charles got the both of them a drink and Y/N pulled him over to Max and Daniel.

Daniel liked Lando. He was a good kid and Daniel knew he had a lot to give. It took some time for Max to warm up for Lando, but he felt somewhat protective over him, like Lando was some lost puppy.

"We were wondering when you were gonna turn up," Daniel said as he leaned back in his chair.

Lando pulled at his suit somewhat uncomfortably. "Anybody got anything I can change into?" He asked as he sipped at his drink.

Nodding his head, Max stood up and led Lando out of the room to get changed into something a lot more comfortable.

"I'm not surprised you went to get him," said Daniel as Y/N sat herself opposite. She rolled her eyes and leaned back, looking towards the doorway. "You've liked him since our Formula One days."

"What?" She asked quickly. "What did you say?"

Daniel cleared his throat. "I said you've liked him since he first joined the team."

That was definitely not what he said, but she didn't call into into question. "Have not," she mumbled, quickly finishing her drink.

Daniel rolled his eyes. On the next mission, he was putting them together. They could work it out then."

***

"Here," Lando said as he bought Max something to eat. Just days before Max and Charles had gone into Y/N's apartment and pulled books from her shelf. They took it in turns to read to her as she laid in her hospital bed.

A few of the grid had come by to see her, to wish her well. But, to them, it wasn't looking good. Daniel tried to talk to her, tried to jog her awake that way, but it wasn't working. Nothing seemed to be working.

Eventually their teams came to pull them away. They still had a job to do, and she would want them to do it. But it was damn near impossible to leave her. It broke their goddamn hearts.

"Keep dreaming, chérie," said Charles as he kissed the top of her head. Max squeezed her hand, but he got no squeeze in return. Lando couldn't bear to leave her.

***

The first half of the mission was a success. They stopped H.Y.D.R.A from making more super soldiers or something (nobody was really concentrating on the first half of the mission. It was piece of cake anyway) and were ready to head home.

Except one of their cohort was missing. Spider-Man was nowhere to be seen. "Lan?" Y/N said into her comm. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

There was a moment of a struggle, not like Lando was in trouble, but like he was pushing on something. "Yeah," he said. "I'm... somewhere. I've been locked in a room."

Daniel let out a sigh. "Let's go find him," he said and led the way. Daniel led Y/N back through the H.Y.D.R.A base, almost like he knew exactly where to go.

In a room deep inside of the base, Y/N ran over to the closet. There was chains holding the doors shut with a padlock keeping them secure. The doors shook; clearly Lando was in there.

"Danny? Use those strong arms of your and pull these open," she said as she stood beside the closet door.

Daniel did just that. He pulled open the closet door, but he didn't let Lando out. Instead he pushed Y/N inside and shut the door again, holding them shut. "Daniel, what the hell?!" She shouted as she pounded against the door. "Let us out, you dick!"

"Not until you kiss or something!" He shouted back.

She could barely see in the dark closet as Lando pulled off his mask, his hair messy. "What is he going on about?" He asked as he leaned against the wall.

Y/N let out a sigh. It was now or never. "Our gracious Captain America thinks I have a crush on you," she said as she continued to push on the door. But Daniel was annoyingly strong and the door wouldn't budge.

Lando looked at her. "Do you?" He asked somewhat hesitantly.

She tried the best to look at him in the darkness. "Would it matter if I do?"

He thought about it for a moment. Yeah, it really would matter. Instead of answering, Lando climbed his way up the wall. He went to the middle of the ceiling and let himself hang down. "Have you ever heard of a Spider-Man kiss?"

Her hands held his cheek. She leaned forward and kissed him. Their eyes were shut as Y/N tried to pull him closer. But it was impossible, he was as close as he could possibly be.

It was so intoxicating. She was so intoxicating that Lando nearly slipped off the wall. He still had a hold of it as Daniel opened the door to let them out. He probably wouldn't have believed them unless he saw it with his own eyes, saw the way Lando kissed her.

Her eyes opened when she saw the light flooding into the closet. "Wow," she whispered, but it was only for Lando's ears. But she still pulled away and lunged at Daniel, knocking him to the floor. Her punches weren't hurting him. As she punched him she said a quiet, "thank you."

Daniel couldn't stop himself from grinning.

***

Lando brushed his fingers through her hair. As soon as the race was over he headed back to the hospital to once again be at her side. "I miss you," he whispered, his hands stilling. "We all do. But I think me and Max and Charles miss you the most."

He didn't expect a response. And he didn't get one.

"You missed Monza. I know how much you love Monza." She excelled at Monza. Everybody expected this to be her first Ferrari win. The TIFOSI loved her and couldn't wait to see her win in Italy.

But she didn't get to this year. Lando would have loved to watch her win, to stand on the podium with her.

"Fuck." Tears sprung to his ears. "I miss you so fucking much."

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yandere-daydreams · 10 months

Text

Title: Unwanted Cravings.

Pairing: Yandere!Miguel O'hara x Reader (Spider-Verse).

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Venom!Reader, Obsessive Behavior, No Actual Sexual Content But Unlimited Access to Miguel's Horny Thoughts, No Seriously This Man Just Wants To Be Topped But He Has To Be So Weird About It, and Slight Violence.

Miguel couldn’t remember the last time he’d been restrained.

Beaten, broken, pinned under falling rumble or sedated or exposed to a paralytic gas, but not restrained. When he was first coming into his abilities, maybe – he could picture himself waking up in some damp, depressing holding cell, but he’d never been handcuffed. If the cops managed to get their hands on him, he wasn’t in a state to resist, and his villains were rarely the ‘catch and release’ types. Or, most of his villains, at least.

This would be so much easier, if all you wanted to do was kill him.

Without warning, the tendrils of your symbiote binding his arms behind his back wrenched tighter – tearing something in his shoulder and drawing a low, pained grunt out of the base of his throat. He clenched his eyes shut, but opened them again just as quickly, turning his gaze toward you.

You were above him, but not out of reach. Perched on the edge of a well-beaten wooden crate, one leg crossed over the other, everything below your neck covered with the glistening black tar of your symbiote, you were staring down toward where he’d been forced to kneel on the cement floor, too, sizing him up with an expression bordering between total disinterest and utter boredom. The repulsion in your eyes alone was enough to spark something in his chest, to make him wonder if you’d look at him with the same indifference if he got his hands free and forced your legs apart, if he buried his face between your thighs and gave up air in exchange for something much more precious. He could do it, if he needed to. If he used his talons, if he pushed himself, he could do it.

But, he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Because you’d get hurt. Because you’d already proven you weren’t looking for a fight, just something to do.

Because you’d leave if he didn’t play along, and you couldn’t leave.

Not that you were in a rush. With an airy sigh, you leaned forward, letting your head lull to the side as you raised your foot, finding the underside of his chin. With more force than you really had to use, you tilted his head back, taking a moment to evaluate his swollen eye, the jagged cut you’d left along his cheekbone when your symbiote had momentarily mistaken him for its next meal. Eventually, your foot fell away from his chin, the sole of your boot finding a place against the center of his chest. He could feel heat rushing to his face, his breathing grow hoarse and ragged, and could only hope it was too dark for you to notice. “You look good with a little damage.” Cold, viscous condescension dripped from your tone, but Miguel had to fight the urge to preen. “You should drop the mask more often. Reaper might stop trying to take a bite out of you if she knew how pretty you could be, when you put the effort in.”

Pretty. A pang of something pure and electric shot from the base of his throat to the pit of his stomach. His breath hitched, and as if in response, your symbiote nipped at the corner of his jaw with just enough force to break the skin. He didn’t try to speak, too aware of how audibly his voice would wavevr - only glaring in your direction, doing what little he could to square his shoulders, to look like a hero. You just laughed, the noise flat and humorless. It made him want to carve your throat out. It made him want to kiss you until his lips bled.

“It’s not fun if you’re just going to make faces at me.” You clicked your tongue, rolled your eyes. “Who was that guy you were with the other day, the one who I threw through a billboard? He was cute – do you think he’d want to play with us, sometime?”

Miguel bared his teeth. Your symbiote purred with delight. “Peter’s not worth your time.”

Another laughed. A real laugh. “And you are? Tell me, Spider-Boy, what exactly can you do for me?”

Involuntarily, images flooded his mind by way of an answer. You, straddling his waist, riding him until he was barely conscious beneath you. Your body between his legs, thrashing void clinging to your skin as you split him open with the help of your symbiote, as you wrapped your clawed hands around your neck and squeezed. A tongue longer than his forearm forcing its way down his throat, the feeling of your body pressed against his, the wild grin you wore as you tried to tear him apart plastered across your lips as you—

The grin you were wearing now, he noticed, when he finally snapped himself out of his fantasies. Not as unrestrained, not extenuated by a thousand rows of pointed teeth, but just was sharp, just as piercing. Complimented by the glint in your eye you only ever got when you saw something you wanted to bite into. “You’re blushing.”

He bowed his head, cursing under his breath. “Let me go—”

“Don’t give me that.” A pair of think tendrils sprouted from his restraints, wrapping around his thighs and forcing his legs apart. Your foot fell farther, landing on his crotch and applying enough pressure to force a sharp hiss through his grit teeth. “Good guys aren’t supposed to lie.” You ground your heel into the base of his shaft and he doubled into himself, a violent moan tearing past his lips. “Be honest, this time – do you get this hard for every rouge you fight, or am I special?”

You were special. Of course, you were special. If you weren’t, his skin wouldn’t itch when anyone else so much as looked at him. If you weren’t, he wouldn’t melt so easily under your attention – hostile or affectionate. If you weren’t, he wouldn’t have to fight so hard not to grind into your heel, not to imagine your symbiote slipping underneath his suit, splaying him out, binding him in place and rendering him immobile, helpless, yours. He tried not to imagine the feeling of your hand against his chest, his waist. He tried not to imagine what you’d do to him, when you had him at your mercy.

It slipped out before he could swallow it back, before his better judgement could overshadow his primal need to feel your skin against his. “Please.” And again, as your lips quirked upward, as you rolled the sole of your boot against his crotch, “Please.”

“Please what, Spider-Boy? Ask for what you want.”

“I— I want you to—” To kiss his neck. To draw blood. To eat him alive. “I need you to touch me.”

There was a beat of silence. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, erratic and nearly overwhelming, nearly deafening.

Finally, you snapped your fingers, calling your symbiote back to you. Miguel fell onto his back, panting as you pushed yourself to your feet. As your mask crept up your neck, you spared him one more glance. For a second, he could’ve sworn you were going to turn on him, sink your claws into his neck, tear his beating heart out of his rib-cage. For a second, he could’ve sworn you were going to stay with him.

Then, your lips quirked upward into a lopsided smirk. You reached down, a bone-white claw emerging from your monstrous hand. Slowly, deliberately, you dragged the sharpened point down the length of his chest, splitting open the holographic fabric of his suit and drawing a thin, red line from his collarbone to the tender flesh of his upper pubic area. You watched with a glint in your eye as he stiffened, as his shoulders shook and a bright, searing heat seeped into his veins and dripped down his thighs. Once the aftershocks had faded, you let out a bark of a laugh, recalling your talon and standing to your full height.

“Fucking pervert.”

Without another word, without another sound, you disappeared into the night, leaving Miguel alone, frustrated, and already desperate to see you again.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse spoilers #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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batfambyval · 7 months

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okay. So.

Serious Red Robin theory coming.

Tim wasn’t put in the Lazarus Pit. But. That doesn’t mean they didn’t use it on him. The pit’s healing properties have been shown to work in small portions. Like, the healing is proportional to the amount of lw used.

The cave with the pit isn’t exactly a sterile environment. So either the pit was needed or it was an attempt to put Tim off balance, a psychological weapon. Though the White Ghost’s reaction to the assumption seems to dispute that. If the pit’s healing is proportional to the amount used it makes sense that the psychological effects are to, along with the duration of those side effects.

Ra’s had serious reasons to use the pit on Tim, between the additional room for emotional manipulation and Tim’s life threatening injury which wasn’t immediately treated and was in fact exacerbated like, a lot… yeah. Tim lost a lot of blood. He lost was stabbed in the organ that filters blood: meaning all your blood passes through your spleen. He was bleeding out, he should have died, he dragged himself and another person to a car, drove said car back to the city, and got them both up to the penthouse. Recovering from that would take a long time, he shouldn’t have survived at all. But he healed quickly and well, it isn’t an issue, it happened and it was over. I know we as a fandom like to have fun with Tim’s missing spleen and what that means but… canon didn’t and looking back I feel like there was a lot pointing at the pit being used in a much more insidious was, not just in the logistics of Tim’s recovery.

Ra’s was insanely trusting of Tim. Not just in his ability to do what he wanted but in his belief that Tim would ultimately come around to his way of thinking. Now, I can obviously see that Tim was in a very vulnerable position and if Bruce hadn’t actually been alive Ra’s could definitely have succeeded. But it feels like more than that, especially with Tim’s ensuing behavior. A lot of his time with the league is glossed over or seen from Tam’s perspective, but Tim was acting different. It’s easy to attribute this to the objectively terrible situation and the year he’s had, but his behavior isn’t the same as it was at the beginning of the run either. And the difference in behavior fades. As Red Robin Tim is more ruthless and pragmatic, mostly due to necessity. Even stealing from a museum and fighting for it makes him incredibly uncomfortable. He still did it. But he was still acting like Tim, making jokes and doing his best to diffuse the situation and keep everyone alive. After the surgery his focus gets even more single minded. He barely puts up a fight about leading the league. Of course partly for Tam, and he tried to keep killing to a minimum but cmon. He was leading the league of ASSASSINS. There were assassinations happening. People died when he blew all the league bases and he barely registered that beyond thinking that the council of spiders probably made it out, implying part of him knew death was a possibility and he didn’t care. But he didn’t think about the moral implications of that in a way that was very reminiscent of Jason’s selective morality. If he had stopped to think about it he wouldn’t have done it, but he was focused to much on beating Ra’s, on not compromising, that the complexity of the situation didn’t sink in. The obvious effects of his actions, the possible deaths and injuries of anyone inside a league stronghold wasn’t acknowledged while the underlying message sent to his opponent was the only thing he could think about. Just like when Jason attacked Tim at Titans Tower to send a message to Bruce despite his hardline stance against hurting kids.

So. The League did use the pit on Tim, just a little. Maybe two tablespoons in the wound to accelerate recovery and weaken his morals a bit. It would certainly make a lot of sense. And the writer did change when Tim came back to Gotham so it’s entirely possible that it was meant to be touched on later but was discarded.

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starwrighter · 9 months

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You know what I love in DpxDc crossovers?

When people explain Jason's pit madness as having to do with ectoplasm. Whether it be the hc that the pits are corrupted ectoplasm, Jason being a revenant before being dunked in the pits or any other idea/theory I love it all!

But you know what I don't see much of? The pit madness being seen as something more clinical. In most of the DpxDc crossovers I've read it's always treated as something that can be easily and quickly fixed. I don't see much content about Jason's pit madness being treated like an serious illness and it's honestly underrated.

Make his pit madness be like cancer for ghost's. Something spread throughout his body like a fucked up spider web slowly killing him as it continues to go untreated. Making his life emotionally and oftentimes physically painful. Have Jason assume his pain is just the consequences of his vigilante life since nobody could ever diagnose him with anything.

Danny feeling heartbroken when he sees Jason not because he can sniff it out or sense it but because he can see it. Oftentimes cancer doesn't show symptoms until it's advanced. For Danny this is like seeing someone who's medical treatment has been so neglected that they're covered in tumors! Danny screaming bloody murder at Bruce for allowing things to get this far; for not getting him help and allowing things to fester like this. Danny's ugly crying because he's a child and he doesn't know how to react to something like this! It's a horrifying sight when medical care is neglected, but seeing someone suffering so much without even knowing what's going on? It's terrifying.

Jason trying to comfort Danny but Danny just starts crying harder because Jason doesn't know what the hell is going on and someone has to be the one to tell him.

Treat Jason's pit madness as a symptom of something bigger, not something that can be fixed with the flick of a wrist. Show me the grief of having a loved one/being the loved one suffering from something that has a good chance of killing them. Where the treatment can make you feel worse than the disease does sometimes. Seeing a loved one get weaker and weaker yet reassuring yourself it's just the process of healing and they're going to be fine.

Have it be something that's treatment is long and strenuous, something that might need surgery to fix. Jason needing a bone marrow transplant or an organ and Danny being the only halfa that's willing to give it to him. Jason having to choose whether he's willing to risk a child's life to save himself or if he's just going to die a second time.

(Bonus! Have Jason deny the operation but Doctors work differently in the realms so it's done anyway without his consent. Does Jason think Danny died from the operation? Maybe it's some important ghost bone marrow/organ and the doctors being dodgey and refusing to let anyone see Danny before he's recovered enough? Jason grieving over a child and lashing out because "why would anyone decide the life of a child was something you could throw away like that!")

#angst #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc prompt #tw illness #tw cancer #tw medical malpractice #ghosts: medical care is free here! :)#Jason: hey uh I don't think I want this surgery #Ghost doctors: >:( it's mandatory #Jason hating ghost hospitals fr fr when this is over

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cheriladycl01 · 2 months

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2026 Rewind - Grid x AudiDriver! Reader

Plot: After some devastating deaths within the F1 industry from unmistakable names in 2025, the FIA decide to make a plan to race at all of the old tracks that are iconic but haven’t been on the grid for a while.

A/N: this is racing heavy with only drivers name dropped, but if you want cool Ted and Crofty with Y/N vibes while learning more about some of the FIA Grade 1 Tracks, have a read!

Credit to celestinovietti for the GIF

“So Ted, let’s talk about this years line up. It’s just so iconic that I can’t bear it!” David Croft says as they are in the commentator box at pre-season testing.

“Yeah Crofty, obviously it’s so unfortunate the reason behind what we are calling the 2026 rewind because of some losses we had in the industry and this was the way the FIA decided to pay tribute to those people!" Ted explains before the onscreen for the year comes up.

"So, lets go through the year together and analyze it. We're starting of the season strong in the lovely Kuwait, here at Kuwait Motor Town, this is where we are kick starting off this season. It's a high speed track here just north of where we would typically start in Bahrain. This is a track consisting of 20 turns, and is 5.609km of racing ahead. I'm very excited as no-one in F1 history has raced here in an F1 car. Who do you think's going to do well here Ted?"

"Well, there's some really nice corners, and it's a similar temp to Bahrain so i think it's difficult to tell but I can imagine the Audi with Y/N now having done her rookie season learning all those key values about the F1 car and how it works. McLaren will also be good here, really tightening up the constructors championship this year!" Ted offers looking at all the onboard footage.

"Yes I agree, I think Red Bull tend to be quiet strong a the start of the year naturally and its a game for the other teams to be playing catch up!" Crofty agrees.

"Okay, then after Kuwait, we'll be travelling to and correct me if I'm saying this wrong but the Kyalami Circuit in South Africa near the wonderful capital Johannesburg. It's in replacement of the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, we haven't raced in South Africa since 1993 and what a beautiful circuit this is, its got some really high speed corners and yeah, I think the Ferrari will really be great on those long straights." Ted says analysis the data of the cars in testing.

"And now here we have with us, Y/N Y/L/N Audi F1 driver here to talk through the rest of the tracks!" David says and points to the camera for you to smile and wave before he pulls out the microphone in front of you.

"Hello!" you grin and David and Ted both burst out laughing.

"What did I miss, I'm really sorry i was late!" you smile looking between them and they both nod in understanding of how tight the weekend schedule could be, they are shocked they actually have your time right now.

"It's completely okay, we understand! We've only introduced Kuwait and South Africa, we are about to move onto the changed Australia track! Your thoughts?" he exclaims and you smile.

"Yeah, obviously it's going to be exciting with all these new tracks that none of us have driven, so of course there was a lot of testing in the sims... but yeah its great to be here in Kuwait, and I'm excited to go to South Africa as well!" you smile.

"Yes, and how do you feel about Australia being changed from Albert Park in Melbourne to the Adelaide Street Circuit?" Ted asks with a grin on his face knowing how you felt about the Australian races.

"Well, after the spider incident in 2022, I've always been so scared to drive in Australia" you giggle, before Crofty pulls up the video of you in P4 of the Australian Grand Prix in 2022.

Y/N - Theres a fucking tarantula in my car Race Engineer - Copy that Y/N - No i dont think you guys get it, its on me

"And you ended up pitting there was no time to get it out of the car because of where it was, you were crying for the rest of the race and you were going so quick so you could just finish that you actually ended up winning your first race here and overtaking Charles Leclerc in, what back then was an Alfa Romeo." Crofty smiles and you nod.

"Yeah, so where ever that race is in Australia I know ill be on edge the whole time, I'll have my crew do like 6 inspections on my car before each session to make sure. It was traumatizing i tell you!" you admit.

"So after what will hopefully be a spider free stint in Adelaide on their street circuit we move on to south east Asia where we will exchange Suzuka Japan, for the Fuji SpeedWay, a truly iconic track before going back to an old favorite of some of the older driver on the grid like Lewis and Fernando in South Korea at the Korea International Circuit!" Ted says showing the line up for the races after Australia.

"I'm really excited for these, the atmosphere of the fans is always amazing and the tracks here are great I think Audi thrive on these sort of tracks and yeah, I'm excited to see what we can do there!" you smile, looking at the spinning track layout that popped up on screen.

You move on to Miami's replacement being the iconic Californian Long Beach Street Circuit.

"And we've been tipped of, by a certain Cash App driver that he'll be taking you to DisneyLand while out there?" he asks looking at you.

"Yes, Liam has already been once and when I said about wanting to go to radiator springs he and Daniel jumped on the opportunity to go, which then Yuki and Max wanted to come so it's now turned into this whole massive group trip!" you laugh knowing that half the grid would come with you guys.

"And of course much like the UK Italy is another pinnacle of Motorsport and we've had to change out two of the iconic track Monza and Imola. So for the first change of Italy we've changed it to the iconic Mugello track which I just really love, don't you Y/N?" Ted asks looking at you.

"Yeah I think Lando and Osc will be really strong there, I'd like to think me and Carlos are as well with the Audi this year... so yeah I'm excited for Mugello! Obviously they raced here in 2020 so it's the most recent of all the races this year to make a return so its only really me, Oscar, Logan, Fred, Theo and Kimi who haven't raced there" you smile analyzing the twisty track up on the screen.

"Yes, then we'll be moving onto, what was probably one of the toughest decisions of this year which was switching out Monaco and what to switch out such an exciting race with, so they didn't its the only race on the calendar this year that has remained unchanged!" David explains making you nod.

"I think, where this year is to show the history of F1 and what it means to all of us, the teams and the fans. And by keeping Monaco on there where its such a historic track, i think that's actually staying true to a rewind year!" you smile, you'd always loved the vibes in Monaco, from the fans to the track to how your car performed there.

"Yeah i agree i think it was the right choice keeping Monaco!" Ted exclaims also loving the vibes at Monaco.

"Okay, then moving all the way to the west, we'll be in Canada moving from Montreal over to Quebec at the second oldest track, the Mont-Tremblant Circuit!" David shows the new Canadian circuit on screen.

"Then after Canada we've got a really special double header with two Spanish Grand Prix's at different locations. We have the Valencia Street Circuit and Del Jarama Circuit. Both very exciting and it will be a long weekend in Spain!"

"I'm excited to see a street circuit in Spain, obviously we had Madrid for the last two years after Barcelona, so I'm excited for both Valencia as a street circuit and Jarama which is such an iconic track because of those tights turns and yeah I'm really excited for this one!" you smile.

"Obviously next one was another tough one, Silverstone again another iconic track and the UK has so many other iconic tracks that its hard to choose, there was talks of Aintree, Watkins Glen and Donington Park but ultimately they went with Brands Hatch what do you think on this?" Ted asks looking over to you, holding up a page showing all the different UK tracks.

"Yeah, I think there's some really iconic tracks in the UK, its my home so i grew up racing on a lot of those tracks in different motorsport categories, I think there's ones that are arguably better for Formula one, which is why Silverstone is the main circuit as it gives for the most interesting race, however for me it would have been a call between Brands Hatch and Watkins Glen so I'm glad that they chose Brands Hatch, I've got some great memories there at testing and showcasing the car or working with the Top Gear team, so I'm excited to race there!" you explain, the United Kingdom is the like Monaco in being both a founder and royalty when it comes to Motorsport.

"I 100% agree with that, however I just love Aintree so much and am gutted we wont see it!" David Croft admits.

"So after Brands Hatch we move to Monsanta in Portugal which we haven't raced in Portugal since 2021 because of the COVID restrictions but that was in Algarve so it'll be interesting to see the difference!" Ted offers looking at the next circuit floating on their screen as he zoom's in on turn 4.

"Then, again there another track we hate to see go even if its for one year but Spa, its so iconic and its one of the most dangerous circuits we race now and it's being swapped out for Circuit Zolder on the other side of Belgium! Thoughts?" David asks out in the open.

"I" you start.

"Well I think" Ted also starts and you both look at each other in shock before laughing. You let Ted go first to say his piece.

"Well, I think it's no where near interesting as Spa, and especially where its the last race before a break... I think it's going to be way more uneventful than Spa!"

"Y/N?" Crofty asks looking at you.

"I actually think the opposite most of the tracks have been very high risk with lost of turns and chicanes and hairpins that really catch you out, however this reminds me of the simplicity of Monza and everyone, everyone loves Monza. So i think it will really even out the mid field cars" you says observing the track that had nice long straights and minimal turns.

"I agree with you there Y/N! Next after Zolder we head over to the heavily missed Nurburgring in Germany, the last time we saw it was 2019 so again, up until our 2019 rookies would have driven there how'd you feel about this track Y/N?" David asks.

"Well, it's such an iconic track for so many reasons I really wanted to race there after I watched Lando, George and Alex all race there in 2019, I was actually there in the paddock that year with Ferrari as a part of their driver development programme" you nod, explaining to them how excited you were for it.

"Now next in the place of Monza which we just mentioned we have a complete wild card of the Scandinavian Raceway in Sweden! Now this, this is one I'm excited for it's a beautiful track and has the coldest track temps we'll probably get all season! So it'll be a real fight to see who can protect their tyres and manage them well!" Ted explains and you nod, knowing it would be an exciting race.

"Then after that we travel to France where we haven't been for a while, however the Bugatti Au Mans Track in France is iconic, there are so many great tracks in France like Paul-Ricard or the Charade Circuit or Dijon de Prenois, all of them are great but the Bugatti hasn't been done is so long and really means a lot historically to the sport" David offers, showing you one of the only tracks you didn't feel too excited a lean towards.

"Then, we move back across to Aisa, going to an age of favorite of the age old Sepang International Circuit in Malasiya which is one fans have been wanting to see back on the race calendar for a while so i wonder if this will stay into 2027!" Ted takes over, and you nod.

"I'm also very excited for Sepang! After Malaysia we move onto the first ever FIA grade 1 race track the Chang Circuit in Thailand, how to we feel about this?" David asks directly looking at you.

"Not only is it a beautiful track, but it means that Alex now has a chance to race at his home track while racing under his home flag and I think he's really excited for it. He's in a great car, the Williams has come leaps and bounds and are top midfield contenders and definitely will be up there fighting for race wins!" you smile, knowing Alex was so happy to have this opportunity to race in his home country.

"I agree Alex Albon to win in Chang Circuit, I've put my money on it! Our next circuit it one that NASCAR share with us in F1 taking it back to the Indianapolis Speedway, on the lower F1 circuit of course rather than the Oval that the NASCAR drivers use!" Ted explains.

"Yeah, that lower track is great, you got the nice curve and we'll be able to get to those really high speeds. It's an iconic US track just like COTA!" you admit, taking a sip of the water you'd brought with you.

"After Indi, we'll make our way a little further down south to the Rio de Janiro International Track in Brazil, which is instead of Sao Paulo" David explains looking at the second F1 track in Brazil, it was a nice track but Sao Paulo had been on the roster for so long.

"Then, we are back in Las Vegas, but not on the Strp track that was created in 2023, no we are going back to the Ceaser's Palace Track and I know many people complain about these Las Vegas Grand Prix's because of the timings and the drivers not really liking driving at 12pm!"

"Yeah, i agree they are really strenuous just like Qatar for the heat but I love the vibe Las Vegas brings and I like the whole weekend with all the activities in the fan zone and yeah I'm excited they used Ceaser's Palace rather than the Pheonix Street Circuit which i know they were considering.

"I agree. Our last two races, then consist of the Buddah International Circuit in India and rounding off instead of in Yas Marina in the Dubai Autodrome, which will be a really nice round off" David exclaims.

Slowly you end the interview up, needing to go down to the track to get into the car for you leg of pre-season testing.

What a year it would be.

Taglist:

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando norris imagine #lando norris #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc x reader #lewis hamilton #max verstappen x you #oscar piastri f1 #alex albon fluff #alex albon imagine #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll

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anxiouspineapples · 2 years

Photo

some peter/mj sketching

#i think about them all the time #peter parker #michelle jones #spiderman #spider-man #the spider pit

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 9 months

Text

The silly little interaction I made in The Roommate Series about how roommate!Simon asks for hugs always makes me happy but I only just realized how you realized that’s what he wanted.

It started a little bit after you became friends. He saw that you hugged your friends whenever you saw them after a long time and he couldn’t help but think, “why don’t you do that for me?” (he doesn’t realize that he may have been a little jealous that you never greeted him like that when he got home)

So the first time he got back home and you were cooking him dinner, he kinda just stood by you awkwardly waiting for you to hug him. Was he going to ask for it? No because he was feeling strangely weird about it, like his throat was closing up and he got a pit in his stomach at the thought of asking for a hug or even receiving one.

Unfortunately, he never got the hug that day and he felt incredibly upset with himself that he couldn’t even be confident enough to ask for something so simple.

Then you had class the next day, and we all know that he has horrible separation anxiety when it comes to you, so he just wanted some kind of parting from you in case this was the last chance he ever had.

Except, he still can’t use his words and you were about to head out the door, so he panicked and tugged on your shirt to stop you.

“What? Is there a bug or something?” You’re eyeing the floor where you were about to step, thinking that he was saving you from a spider.

“No.” He kept your shirt in between his fingers as you looked up at him with confusion.

“Is everything okay?”

He just stared at you, speechless and unable to just tell you he wants a hug. He knows you’re on a time crunch and the longer he stares the more nervous he gets so he just lets go. He doesn’t say a word to you when he walks to his room, leaving you confused.

You follow him, not really caring about the class you have to go to and stop him before he goes inside his room.

“Was there something you needed from me?” You wondered and he clenched his jaw.

It took him a moment finally get up the courage to say something and it makes him wonder if he really was that capable on the battlefield if he can’t even ask for a hug of all things.

“You always hug your friends when you leave.”

Simon didn’t miss the way a smile stretched across your face, in fact he was staring at you as you let out a soft giggle that had him tensing up.

“Do you want a hug?” You offered and he gave you a curt nod.

You stepped closer to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. You felt him tense up in your arms, especially as you gave him a gentle squeeze and rested your head against his chest.

Simon wasn’t used to the touch and for a moment it felt good, but then it didn’t so he quickly gave you a pat on the shoulder, hoping you’ll let him go.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

Instead of being upset, like he thought you would be, you just laugh and gave him a smile as you pulled away from him.

“I’ll be back for lunch.” You told him and left.

It took a while for Simon to wrap his head around that interaction and even longer for him to get used to being hugged by you.

You always waited for him to ask for it by tugging on your shirt, so whenever you feel your shirt tugged you know that he needs a just a little bit of friendly touch.

#the roommate series #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #idk something I thought about #been quiet lately

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luveline · 9 months

Note

Thinking about Eddie going out to get dinner while reader is over!! Reader sees a big bug and doesn’t want to deal with it/tries to trap it so Eddie can deal with it, but Roan legit just picks it up and let’s it go easy while reader is like “roan my hero T_T!!!” Reader def brings over presents for Roan the next visit because of that LOL.

thank u for ur request lovely! eddie and roan —your boyfriend's trailer attracts creepy crawlies, but luckily his young daughter knows how to catch them. 1.3k

The thing about Eddie's trailer is that, while he's more than made it a home, it is full of bugs. Maybe because the trailer park is a huge field of grass, maybe because of the forest surrounding, you're guaranteed to find a bug or two every time you visit.

Sometimes you get lucky with small moths to be herded back out of the kitchen door. Occasionally, spindly spiders on lines of sink drop down into the room and are swiftly captured by Eddie in an open palm. You have never, ever faced this particular brand of misfortune before.

"What is that?" you squeal, pulling Roan hard against your chest.

She's small, and before your violent flinch, she'd been quite comfortable sitting atop your thigh, her back to your chest. "Woah!" she says, her voice very high.

"Holy crap," you say, again and again as you shuffle down the couch and off of the side of it.

As soon as you can stand without fearing for your life, you pull Roan to your chest, her short legs dangling from either side of your thigh. Letting your new boyfriend's daughter die via a mysterious bug bite would be extremely uncool. You quite like her, and her dad's fine (you feel this yawning pit at the very bottom of your stomach whenever you think about how much you want this to work, how much you already love them).

"Princess, what is that?" you ask, though as soon as you've finished asking, you realise it's nothing nefarious after all.

She tips herself back in your arms, assessing the bug upside down. "Uh. That's a mildi-pede."

The bug is long and brown, segments of its body curved and multi-legged. It moves with tiny footsteps but makes good progress, crawling across the wooden slates toward the rug.

Eddie is the bug catcher. You're the celebrator —he grabs a cup and a piece of paper to sequester whichever insect has decided it must harass you that night, and you get to thank him for being brave with kisses that are somehow shy and congratulatory at once. You're allowed to kiss him, now, whenever you like, but each one makes your lips tingle.

"You get a lot of those?" you ask.

"You've never seened one?" Roan asks.

You live in Indiana, so of course you've seen a millipede. But, you know, normal millipedes, not mutant ones the length of your forearm.

"I feel like I haven't," you confess, your pulse thudding against your chest.

"Where did it go?" Roan asks, wriggling to be put down on her own two feet. She sounds far more curious than afraid.

You put her down on the rug and peer over Roan's play picnic table cautiously. You're ninety nine percent sure that millipedes can't hurt people, but you're scared shitless anyhow.

"Your dad will be back with Chinese food, soon," you say, stepping backwards as Roan creeps forward. It's adorable. You'd coo if your nerves weren't frazzled. "Maybe we could go wait at the kitchen table."

You'd rather wait for him to come home than deal with it yourself. The thought of somehow touching it makes your skin crawl.

"She's a super duper long one," Roan calls, dropping to her knees.

"Roan?" you call back hesitantly. "Uh, don't do whatever it is you're doing. Come on, I'll make you a fun fruity drink again like last week while we wait for your daddy?"

You bite the tip of your tongue so hard you're sure you've sheared the tip clean off when Roan turns back to you, the wretched (innocent) creature racing its legs uselessly as she holds it up in the light.

You wrap your arms around your own chest. "Holy crap, babe! Put it down!"

"Daddy says the bugs aren't scary, they just wanted to have somewhere warm to sleep!"

"Your daddy is very smart," you concede, strained, easing away as Roan comes closer. The creepy crawly is a contrast to her silky lilac pyjamas and ruffled socks, its armoured carapace shining as it metronomes with each step she takes. "But I'm not as brave as you both."

"If you open the door, I can put her outside," Roan says, as though you're the child and she's the adult, her tone softened by that seemingly endless patience Eddie possesses.

You keep your doubt (your disbelief? your awe?) to yourself and cross the short distance to the front door to open it as she commanded. Roan rushes out onto the small porch and down the steps, crouching in the grass to place the millipede down with the utmost care. It's dark out, and she's unafraid, the path lit only by orange light slipping from inside the trailer and the weak headlights of an oncoming car.

You descend the steps and join her.

"Here you go, missy mildi-pede, back to the grass," she murmurs. The millipede's back legs cling to her hand. Roan runs out of sweetness and shakes her free.

You breathe in the cool night air for a moment, watching with Roan as the millipede crawls out of sight between tall blades of bluegrass.

"You're very brave," you say. You feel a little sheepish to have been rescued by her.

"Daddy says that all the time," she agrees proudly.

You offer her your hand and stand tall together as the headlights become apparent. Your car (with Eddie driving, to avoid a game of driveway leap frog) pulls into the space behind his own. He waves when he sees you both behind the windshield, getting out of the car with the takeout bag looped around his wrist.

"Hi girls," he says, closing the door with his hip. "What're you doing, sending out a search party? I wasn't gone that long."

"I had to– I had to bring a mildi-pede outside because Y/N was scared," Roan says, her sentence punctuated with a roaring giggle as Eddie swoops her up into his arms, takeout bag and all.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, smothering her answer with kisses.

You bracelet your wrist in the other hand sheepishly.

Eddie doesn't look up. You assume you've gotten away with not knowing what to say until he pops Roan on his hip, reaching for you. More shameful than your inability to deal with a bug by yourself is how urgently you step into his side. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, the takeout bag hot against your back, his lips curled into a fond smile as he murmurs, "D'you finally see the spider in the bathroom?"

You tilt your face into his cheek kisses. "No?" you ask.

"I'm calling him Gregory," Roan says.

"He's not that big," Eddie promises, leaning back to stroke your face.

"She saved me from the world's grossest millipede."

"Were you kind?" Eddie asks her.

Roan puts a little hand over her heart. "Duh, daddy."

"She's wicked with them, isn't she? She grabs them like they're nothing," he says to you, his hand rubbing down your arm before he passes you the take out bag. Roan must weigh heavy after a long day; he needs both arms to keep her up. They grin at each other with twin mouths. "She's fearless. Thanks for saving Y/N, babe."

"I like Y/N," Roan says earnestly.

You like Roan too —your saviour. You bring her a big Dotty Dolly set the next time you're lucky enough to be invited over, an entomologist Dolly with khaki cargo shorts and a butterfly net. Roan loves it, and Eddie's evidently appreciative, sitting you half on top of his lap as you watch her tear it open with his arms crossed lovingly over your tummy.

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openpandorabox · 1 year

Text

end of the beginning - part 2

neteyam x omaticaya! reader part one here!

requested! *this was requested, i just accidentally deleted the request from my submission box!*

summary: it's been months since you last saw the sully's, but in a time of need, you somehow find your way back to each other and back to neteyam, possibly finding your forever in the process.

warnings: violence, mentions of guns, injury, a character almost dying

notes: fluff, angst, hurt boy neteyam

word count: 4.1k (holy damn)

!reader is the same age as neteyam!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The days blurred into months.

Following the departure of the Sully’s, everything just seemed empty. You felt like you had been running on auto-pilot, pretending that there wasn’t a chunk of you missing since they left without even the utterance of a goodbye.

You felt betrayed, how could you not? The family who had taken you in had left you so easily, just based off one persons request. Someone should have fought for you, the same way you always did for them.

Above everything though, you just missed them.

You missed Tuk’s excessive nagging at you to play with her, you missed being dragged around by Lo’ak for whatever trouble he was up to, you missed Kiri’s advice and her hugs, and you missed Net-

It hurt to even think about him. Every time his name popped into your head, you’d push it out with all your might. If you sat and let it linger, you knew you’d fall into a bottomless pit of grief.

So, you did whatever you could to distract yourself. You invested more time into hunting. You had become the best hunter of your age group. You explored your creative side. You made neckpieces, arm bracelets and ionar’s for other Omaticaya people. You even made one of Mo’at’s Tsahìk statement pieces. But every night, you would go home to your lonely hut, and you’d reminisce and desperately ask Eywa why they had left you.

Eventually, you realised being in the place that reminded you of everything you lost was detrimental to your mental health. You couldn’t heal if you were surrounded by the memories of what your life once was.

So, one day, you readied your ikran, and you left with what little personal items you had to seek a new home, somewhere that wasn’t like the forest. Where the trees couldn’t remind you of Lo’ak climbing them to scare people as they walked past. Where the long grass couldn’t remind you of Kiri hibernating in it, atokirina swarming her body. Where the dirt and mud couldn’t remind you of making mud pies with Tuk. Where the empty Sully hut couldn’t remind you of your fight with Neteyam, where he confessed his love for you and flew off into the sun only an hour later.

You found yourself with the Metkayina clan and your new home became the Ta’unui village. Unbeknownst to you, you were so close to the Sully’s.

You were trained as a Metkayina, and you were a natural with the ocean. You could already hold your breath for long periods of time underwater, and you were a strong swimmer despite your skinny arms and tail. You fit right in, and you were at peace with where you were.

Then one day, the sky people arrived, they looked like Na’vi, but they wore soldier uniforms, had guns and knives strapped to their waist. They burnt your marui’s and pushed your Tsahìk’s face into the sand, all in search of Jake Sully.

You were out at the time. Every now and then you’d take your ikran for a fly around the reef because honestly, you missed it. Thank God you were gone, you weren’t sure what could’ve happened to the people if you were there and Spider saw you.

That’s when you realised how close to them you were. But you wouldn’t look for them, refused to. If they could let you go so easily, you would too.

More time passed, it got to the point where you could go a whole day without thinking about the two families you had lost.

You loved exploring the ocean, almost as much as you loved flying.

The smile on your face was hard to miss as you rode your ilu through the water, eyes catching onto every colourful piece of coral, every sign of life, the bioluminescence that shined so brightly, even under water.

All of a sudden, the water vibrated. It was minimal. Barely noticeable, you almost missed it. But you definitely felt it. You travelled the waters long enough to know it wasn’t normal. You bring yourself to the surface, curiously looking around at your surroundings, and then you see it. In the far distance, flames and smoke.

Your heart sinks. Is that another village being torched? You look back in the direction of your home, pondering whether you should just turn around and go back like you saw nothing, but you knew the guilt would eat you alive.

“Damnit.” You whisper, clicking your tongue at your ilu until it dives back into the water, taking you in the direction of the fire.

Once you got closer to the scene, you realised it wasn’t a village on fire. It was a ship inhabited by sky people. You knew what it was for. The Metkayina had told you stories about these demon ships.

You look around at the sinking ship from a distance. You can barely make out the colonel that torched your village on an ikran, shooting at something in the water. You see another ikran, but you can’t make out the rider.

You ride as close as you can, enough that you can’t be seen, but enough where you don’t have to swim for twenty minutes to get to the ship. You dismount your ilu under the water and it swims away. Slowly and carefully, you rise to the surface, covering your mouth in shock. It’s an all out war. Na’vi fighting sky people. You see demon boats, exo suits, guns and arrows. And so much fire.

You swim underwater (which was a bit of a struggle since you had your bow) to the ship and you sneak on.

You immediately have to take out a solider who spotted you, shooting an arrow straight through his chest and watching his lifeless body drop to the ground. It has been a long time since you killed somebody.

You stay crouched, navigating your way through the sinking ship, steering clear of other soldiers. All of a sudden, you hear a voice. A very familiar voice. You duck behind a pole, regaining your breath before you poke your head out, and the sight pulls a sob from deep within your body.

Lo’ak and Neteyam.

“They’ve got spider. We’ve gotta get him. Come on!” You hear Lo’ak say to his brother, who begins to shake his head. “Come on, bro. We can’t leave him!”

Neteyam lets out a frustrated growl, but then he chases after his brother, right in your direction. You quickly squat down, staying close against the pole as they pass you and head further down into the ship without seeing you.

You sit with your back against the pole, feeling months worth of suppressed emotions coming up. Your face scrunches up as you cry, head dropping into your hands.

You’re only allowed to feel for a few seconds, because the sound of footsteps heading towards you becomes more apparent, so you push yourself onto your knees, readying your bow.

When you see another sky person, you don’t hesitate to shoot them before crawling over to their body to retrieve your arrow. You look in the direction Neteyam and Lo’ak went in. You knew they could be in trouble, but was it your place to rescue them?

With a growl, you rip your arrow from the lifeless body and follow them. Sometimes you were too loyal.

You struggle to navigate your way through the sinking ships many aisles, so instead, you rely on your hearing. Your ears twitch as you listen in for any slight sounds, but you jump out of your body when gunshots come from nearby. You immediately fear for their lives and jump into action, running to the source of the sound to see Lo’ak and Spider jumping into a pool of water, barely missing multiple gun shots. You angle your body closer to the rail of the deck, spotting Neteyam hiding behind a wall, gun in his hand as he ponders the best moment to flee. You hiss quietly. He was always the brother to stay back to protect Lo’ak.

You take a deep breath in, drawing your bow at your side, waiting for any danger to cover him from.

He pokes his gun from behind the wall and shoots at nothing in particular before sprinting towards the water, narrowly missing gunshots.

Everything slows down. You see a solider stand, gun aimed straight at Neteyam’s back. You breathe out, firing your arrow at the solider. It lands in his chest just as he shoots his gun, which distorts the soldiers angle of fire. The bullet hits Neteyam‘s shoulder, and he jumps into the pool of water with a grunt.

You gasp, ears turning down instantly at the sound of his body hitting the water. “Please be okay.” You whisper to yourself, hand over your heart as you attempt to regain your breath. The sound of Neteyam hitting the water replays over and over in your head, and in a fit of rage, you rise to your feet, bow drawn, and you kill the remaining three soldiers in the area.

Once you clear the area, you jump into the same pool of water Neteyam had jumped into minutes before, swimming in search of him or Lo’ak or Spider. You click your tongue, waiting only moments for your ilu to appear next to you, stroking your head with its own.

In a hurry, you pull yourself onto the saddle, sitting up straight and looking around you. So much fire, so many machines, and so much death. But you manage to spot the familiar blue bodies a little further out on some rocks.

“Under,” you speak aloud to your ilu, and it obediently listens, diving into the water and swimming at a speed you didn’t think was possible, but it just showed this creature could feel your bond with Neteyam through you.

Once you’re at the rocks, you disconnect from your ilu, climbing the rocks without anyone noticing because they’re all arguing.

“Lo’ak, you put your brothers life at risk again! If that bullet hit a few more inches over, he’d be dead!” Jake yells at his youngest son, who simply drops his head in guilt. Neytiri is on her knees, presumably beside Neteyam but you can’t see him because Jake and Lo’ak are in the way.

“Dad, we had to save spider. We could not leave him there.” Neteyam speaks up, and you wince at the sound of pain in his voice.

Lo’ak is the first to see you. His eyes widen, having forgotten his lecture from his father, but he doesn’t move.

“Y/N?” He questions, cheeks stained with tears, yet a hopeful look in his eyes.

You didn’t blame his questioning stare. You had changed a lot while leaving with the Metkayina. Your hair that was usually just in tight braids was now only braided at the roots, falling into curls at your ribs. Your skin had turned slightly aqua from the sun and water exposure, and you were wearing a traditional Metkayina loin cloth and neckpiece, decorated by sea shells.

Suddenly, all of the Sully’s were looking at you, plus a Metkayina na’vi, but you don’t have time to say anything, because you’re almost knocked over by Lo’ak who tackles you in a hug, shortly joined by Spider.

“Neteyam… Is he okay?” You whisper, your voice slightly broken, and Lo’ak steps out of the way just as Jake moves aside, and there he was, staring right at you.

From his spot on the ground, he lifts his fingers to his head, the gesture of ‘i see you’ and you approach him with shaky knees before dropping to them next to him.

“You’re okay? You’re going to be okay?” You question him, eyes scanning over his body, looking for any other wounds. He’s scratched and grazed, but that’s nothing compared to his shoulder. Neytiri is applying pressure to the wound, but blood is still sleeping through her fingers.

“He’s gonna be okay. Bullet went through his shoulder. But we need to get him help, or he could bleed out.” Jake finally speaks, and Neytiri nods with him:

“I can take him to my vi-“

Jake cuts you off when he suddenly lifts his head, ears back in alert as he listens to his earpiece.

“He has Tuk and Kiri. Neytiri, he has our daughters.” Jake immediately stands, beginning to ask Spider for directions. Neytiri grabs your hand, placing it on Neteyam’s shoulder. She caresses Neteyam’s cheek for a moment, before mounting her ikran, heading back in the direction of the ship.

“I need you to take Neteyam back to the village to get him help. Please.” He looks at you with pleading eyes, and of course, you can’t say no. Neteyam needed you right now.

“Dad, I want to go with you.” Lo’ak steps towards him, eyes like an endless pool of sadness, and Jake barely spares him a glance before he’s turning around.

“You’ve done enough.” He mumbles, following Spider to the edge of the rocks and leaving you all behind.

“No, Dad.” Lo’ak whispers sadly, but he’s already gone. You frown, wishing you could comfort him, but Neteyam needed help right now.

Neteyam who is on the ground, grunting in pain as his body makes involuntary movements, and your heart aches to take all of his hurt away, shelter him so he never had to feel an ounce of it again.

“Okay, we’re going to get you on an ilu. Are you ready?” You ask Neteyam, but you don’t really wait for him to answer. Instead you look to the water, tongue clicking for your ilu.

“It hurts, so-so much.” Neteyam grunts, and your attention is immediately back on him. “I need to tell you. I’m sorry for what I di-“

“Shh,” you shake your head, tears pooling in your eyes as your free hand meets his cheek, stopping him from finishing his sentence. “Come on, we can talk about this later. We need to get you back.”

He looks up at you, the fear in his eyes almost knocking you over. Gone was the fierce warrior. The warrior who always protected his people, who showed no fear. Left in his place was just a scared, little boy whose eyes were welling up with tears, staring up at you as if you could fix the hole in him. “What if I don’t ma-make it back?”

A tear falls from your eye, but you swat it away. “Hey,” you say to him, lightly tapping his cheek. “You are going to make it. You are strong, Neteyam — Lo’ak! Help me with your brother, quickly!” You yell behind you, and Lo’ak and the Metkayina girl appear right behind you, already helping Neteyam up.

You keep your grasp on his shoulder, now using both your hands to put pressure on the entry and exit wound as Lo’ak and Tsireya guide him over to your ilu. They sit him at the front, and you sit behind him, guiding Neteyam’s hand to hold onto the saddle, while guiding his other hand to press on his entry wound. You keep one of your hands on the back of his shoulder, the other wrapping around his waist, before you connect to your ilu.

“Tsireya, go back with them. I need to help.” Lo’ak turns to Tsireya and cups her cheek, ignoring our pleas for him to stop and he’s gone only seconds later.

The girl, Tsireya, sighs, and you shoot her a sad smile. “Boys, huh?” You squeeze Neteyam’s waist the tiniest bit, and you knew if he wasn’t in so much pain, he’d be teasing you back.

You wait for Tsireya to mount her on ilu, and then the both of you are racing towards the village, with you constantly checking in on Neteyam to make sure he's still with you.

“Mother!” Tsireya calls once you land on the sand, and you struggle, but you manage to get Neteyam off the ilu and onto the sand, his body was weakening due to the loss of blood.

“Come on Neteyam,” you grunt, pulling him along with you, but his body begins to fall limp. “Neteyam!” You yell as he drops to the ground, lifeless.

You immediately drop next to him, grabbing his face in your hands and trying to shake him awake. “Neteyam!” You cry, lightly slapping his face, as if that would make a difference. His body remains unresponsive, unmoving, and you were too panicked to even check his breathing.

It’s all a blur, but the Tsahìk appears and two other men pick him up and rush him into a shack that you are not allowed to enter, all while you sit frozen in the sand, thinking you’d just lost the love of your life before you could even love him properly.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

An hour went by, maybe two, while you just sat in the sand, waiting for any word from Ronal. Not only were you anxiously anticipating news about Neteyam, but the other Sully’s were yet to be seen.

They all showed up after some time, all with their own grazes and cuts. Neytiri’s bow was broken, but the bond between Jake and Lo’ak had seemed to mend, at least a little.

Tuk and Kiri just pulled you into a hug, and you all cried together. You had all been in danger that day, everybody was scared, tired, and anxious at the absence of Neteyam. Spider and Lo’ak joined you soon after, the five of you sitting in the sand, staring out at the ocean.

“We wanted to say goodbye, you know.” Lo’ak speaks up, his gaze turning towards you. Tuk was between the two of you, nestled under your arm. “Dad wouldn’t let us. Said it’d hurt you too much.”

You breathe out, glancing at him for a second before looking back at the water. “Yeah, he was probably right.” You smile sadly, remembering the words Neteyam said to you that day.

“He is going to be okay, my friend.” Kiri loops her arm around your shoulder, nuzzling her head into yours.

You do your best to distract yourself from the anxiety you were feeling, and instead caught up with the Sully siblings, how their life had been since they left, how yours had been, and how this war even came to be.

“-and Payakan landed right on the sky pe-“ Lo’ak’s animated story is cut short by Jake’s voice behind you.

“Neteyam’s awake. He’s okay. He’s asking for you.” Jake’s gaze levels on you, a small smile on his face.

The relief that floods your system is unexplainable. Like all was okay again, there was nothing that could ever hurt you because Neteyam was alive and well.

You stand up, brushing the sand from your legs, and you make your way towards the shack, letting Jake pull you into a dad-hug on the way there.

You push the curtain aside, eyes automatically finding Neteyam who was lying on a blanket on the floor, head elevated by a makeshift pillow.

Neteyam smiles when he sees you, as best as he can through the weakness of losing so much blood, bags under his eyes. “Hi,” his voice is gruff and crackly, like he’d been in a coma for days.

“Hello.” You answer back, wrapping your arms around yourself for comfort, rocking back and forth on your heels as you struggle to decide what to do next.

Neteyam decides for you when he sits up just enough to reach your hand, and he pulls you over towards him, making you sit with him. You help him readjust his position so he can sit as well, back against the wall and injured arm wrapped in a sling. You sit next to him, back against the wall as well, heads tilted back as you search for the words to say.

“I thought I lost you for the second time today,” Your voice is shaky, like you were on the verge of admitting your feelings for him, just as he had vulnerably done so many months before. “When you fell to the ground, I was sure you were dead.”

He sighs, wrapping his good arm around your shoulders to pull you into him, your face nuzzling into his neck.

It felt so strange to be this close to him. After pretty much hating each other and being as separated as possible, to being joined at the hip gave you whiplash, but in a really cheesy way, it still felt so right. Like Neteyam was literally put on this planet to be your soulmate.

“I cannot die yet. I haven’t tortured you enough with my presence.” Neteyam attempts at a joke, and for a moment, you smile, but it quickly diminishes when he grunts in pain.

The two of you let the silence take over for some time, just wrapped in each other's arms, listening to the slightly unsteady sound of his heartbeat.

“You know, you broke my heart.” You speak after some time, voice hoarse as you look up at him, seeing a wave of emotion pass over him. Guilt, shame, regret.

“I know. I had to.” He whispers, looking straight back at you, teary eyes glistening in the light.

You feel your own eyes well up, but you pull your gaze away from him, looking down at your hands in your lap. “Why?” You ask, voice shaky as you try to hold back the sobs.

He pulls away from you and you feel your heart beat faster, thinking you had said something wrong. But then he’s cupping your cheek with the hand he could actually use and lifting your head until you’re looking at him again. “Because, it was the only way to stop you from coming after us. I had to break you to keep you safe.”

A sob leaves your body, you feel the tears running down your cheeks, gathering at Neteyam’s fingertips. Your eyes flicker between his. “Well, I still found you.”

Neteyam smiles, eyes full of adoration. “Yes, you did. You never listened to me, anyway.”

You laugh sadly, leaning your face into his hand, eyes closing as more tears fall from them. You’re close enough to feel his breath on your lips, and suddenly, you’re nervous to open your eyes again. You’d never been in such an intimate moment with someone before. Despite your best efforts, your eyes flicker open, immediately dropping to his lips, watching as they widen into a smirk.

“Neteyam…” You trail off, eyes roaming over his face, greedily taking him all in. “I see you.” You whisper, voice only breaking the tiniest bit as you place your hand over his one on your cheek, tangling your fingers together. You move your other hand to his chest, fingers splaying across his blue skin.

He doesn’t hesitate, just touches his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “I see you, my love.” Your eyes shut in relief at his words, and he takes the moment to press your lips together, conveying every word he ever wanted to say to you with his mouth as it moves against yours.

“She’s been in here for ages, bro — Oh.” You immediately tear away from each other, stuck like deers in headlights as every Sully offspring enters the room, all wearing similar expressions of shock.

Lo’ak raises his eyebrows, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Oh.” He finishes, chewing his lip to stop himself from laughing.

Kiri is the first to burst out into laughter, immediately joined by Lo’ak, and shortly followed by Tuk, who probably doesn’t even understand what she’s laughing about, but she does anyway.

You can’t help it, you smile the biggest you have in months, covering your face with your hands as you lean your back into Neteyam’s chest, knowing full well he was smiling and blushing too.

“You skxawng’s!” Neteyam yells through a fit of laughter.

Jake and Neytiri decide to join at this moment, and you wish the floor would swallow you whole.

“Who’s a skxawng and why?” Jake asks, looking around at you all, trying to find the answer.

Neytiri has a knowing look on her face. Just smirks as she makes her way over to you, taking the spot on the other side of you and pulling you into a hug, resting her chin on the top of your head.

The rest of the Sully’s follow, surrounding you and Neteyam, all connecting to you in some way, whether it was holding hands, heads on shoulders or legs touching, you were all connected, and finally, you felt whole again.

Sully’s stick together.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

tags: @sopiasleeps @navs-bhat @cedeni-beanie

if you would like to be tagged in future posts, please let me know and i will make a tag list!

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam imagine #avatar twow #neteyam x omaticayan #jake sully #avatar imagine #avatar 2 #tsireya #lo'ak #neteyam

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