#I was super awkward and nervous about saying hi | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cozage · 1 year

Note

Hi! Can I request for Ace, Shanks react to their crush sitting on their lap because of a challenge/truth or dare game?

Characters: G/N reader with Ace, Shanks, Luffy, Law A/N: I loved this request so much I was losing sleep over thinking about this. It has been all I’ve been thinking about for the past few days. Thank you SO MUCH for this. I went a little crazy with this one and I added a few extra people just because I could not get this scenario out of my brain, but your requests are up first and the longest :)

Cw: SFW and NSFW here. NSFW is clearly marked if you want to skip that portion. Minors - PLEASE DNI WITH THE NSFW!! I promise I will have so much content for you to consume, please respect me and my work and avoid the NSFW stuff. There’s also alcohol mention, drinking, heavy flirting

Total word count: 4.2k

Truth or Dare

Ace

Word count: 1.1k

“Dare.” You weren’t normally a risk taker, but you trusted Marco not to be too wild in his request.

When his eyes slid over to Ace and a smirk appeared on Marco’s face, you immediately regretted that decision. “I dare you to sit on Ace's lap for the rest of the night. Only getting up for bathroom breaks, dares, or refills.”

Ace tries to play it off as not a big deal in front of everyone. He’s known as a super cocky and charismatic guy by the crew and he’s not about to give up that reputation because of some dare.

You know Ace though, and you definitely see his cheeks growing red as you walk over to him.

He opens his arms to welcome you, mostly to make a spectacle of the whole thing to the rest of the crew, but you catch him shooting daggers out of his eyes at Marco when everyone isn’t looking.

This man is secretly a NERVOUS. WRECK. Internally he’s so awkward and uncomfortable about being this close to you and it not being on your own terms.

Ace has never even made a move on you before. You all have exchanged flirtatious banter frequently, but you’ve never been this close for this long.

You try to ignore it, but you can see Marco mouthing things to him when he thinks you aren’t looking. Unfortunately you’re not a good lip reader, but you think you can see the first division commander mouth out “make a move” while nodding at you.

At first Ace was super stiff and uncomfortable with the situation. He’s leaning all the way back, hands hanging by his side. He’s trying to give you the space to feel comfortable, because he knows this has to be even more awkward for you than it is for him. He looks comfortable enough to everyone else in the room, but you can feel the tension in his movements.

One of the few times he willingly gives you more contact than you already share is to reach for his drink at the table. Anytime he reaches for it, his bare chest presses up against your back, and you have to resist the urge not to lean into his warmth.

You get up to get a drink for the both of you, and when you come back, you find him talking to Marco in a hushed tone. He sounds irritated, but when he sees you, he smiles and reaches out to you, welcoming you back into his lap.

“Truth.” You were cautious to do dares due to the position you were in now. “Do you like sitting on Fire Fist’s lap?” Haruto asked. You shrugged casually, but you could feel your ears burning. “It’s not so bad.”

After the initial awkwardness wears off and a few more drinks are in your alls system, you both get more comfortable with your situation. You all relax into your normal selves again, bantering and laughing.

When he says something stupid, you turn around and flick his forehead, and he pretends to pout and ignore you for a while. He traces lines along your back and tickles your sides to get you to squeal and squirm away from him.

Ace gets up to do a dare finally, and you stay standing, waiting for him to come back. “If you need a nice place to sit, I’ve got a lap even better than Ace’s!” You laugh and politely decline, but you catch Ace glaring at the guy who attempted to make a move on you. When Ace returns to his seat, he beckons to you, and you happily sit down on top of him.

You get up for a dare, and when you come back to sit with him, a few guys jokingly question when it’s going to be their turn. Neither you or Ace acknowledge them, but as you sit down, Ace wraps his hand around your waist. He’s not holding you or anything, his hand just rests there. You like the feeling.

The next time you get up for a dare, he holds you back for a second before he releases you. You lock eyes for a second before he mumbles an apology and averts his gaze.

You two alternate between you leaning back against him and him resting his head on your shoulder or against your back.

“I really like the smell of your shampoo,'' he whispers soft enough so only you can hear. You can feel him take in a few deep breaths with his nose pressed into your hair. There's an exchange of electricity between you two. He feels it too, but neither of you say anything. You just enjoy your quiet moment of shared intimacy.

NSFW

Late in the night, you get up to refill both of your drinks.When you come back, you sit down and shift a bit in Ace’s lap to get comfortable. You can feel him involuntarily grind into your ass, and without thinking you press back into him. Both of you are painfully aware of what you’ve both done, and your cheeks flush with heat instantly. It’s a bit awkward for a little while, but after watching a few more rounds of truth or dare, you’ve both moved on from the awkwardness.

A while later, the ship hits a rogue wave and you lose your balance. Ace's arm instinctively flexes to hold you in place on top of him. He manages to steady you, but he can’t save your beer, which splashes all over your shirt. You groan, and start to get up to clean it up, but his hand grips your waist and holds you in your place on his lap. He doesn’t want you to leave. “We can get you another shirt later.”

“I'm just going to go change, Ace. I’ll be right back”

“Sorry.” He sighed, his hand still tightly gripped against your waist, pulling you as close as possible. “That wasn’t a reason you could leave your seat.”

“Ace,” you whine back to him. You really didn’t want to smell like beer all night. “Please let me change.”

His fingers do a light dance across your midsection, and he leans close against you to whisper in your ear. “You want help?”

Luckily your cheeks are already rose-tinted from the alcohol, or else you’d be giving yourself away. Unluckily, most of the room's eyes are already on you two, waiting to see what will happen next. It’s silent for a long moment, before someone shouts out. “GET A ROOM, YOU TWO!” You’re pretty sure it was another commander, though you’re too focused on Ace to see which one it was.

“I’m just going to change.” You call out as you get up. Ace follows closely behind you.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever!” A mix of applause and cheers echo from the room as you all head towards your cabin.

Shanks

Word count: 1.1k

“Dare,” you say with a smirk. “Do your worst, Beckman.”

It was a game the two of you played often while on the sea, and you hadn’t lost to him yet. But his devilish grin makes a knot appear in your stomach. Perhaps you had taunted him too much. He lowers his voice so only you can hear. “Go sit in the Captain’s seat for ten minutes.”

You scoff at the notion. You were expecting much worse. “That’s not much of a dare, Beck. You had me worried.”

“You don’t think?” He raises an eyebrow and nods in the direction of the seat, and as you follow his gaze to see that your captain is currently seated where you need to be. “Go on then. And you can’t let him know about the game.”

That was always the rule. If people were on to your motives, you would lose the game. You were always sly enough to get by in the past, which is how Beckman always lost. Beckman nudges you on, and you roll your eyes and head towards Shanks.

“Hey, Captain.” You casually sit sideways on his lap and feign deep intrigue at whatever paper he’s currently looking over.

He’s extremely taken aback and confused by your sudden comfortability with him, given you’ve never done something like this before.

He quickly recovers from his shock and has the biggest grin watching you examine the paper he’s holding.

Shanks very quickly realizes he could get used to you sitting like this all the time, and doesn’t want you to get up anytime soon, so he ropes you into helping him with his current project. “It looks like a coded treasure map. I just can’t quite get the right sequence to decode it properly.”

He knows you’re a sucker for a good mystery/puzzle, and hands off the paper for you to look at. You quickly snatch the paper and actually start looking at it now, seriously intrigued. Plus it’s a great way to pass the time.

You almost forget that you came over here as a part of a dare. You stare at the paper and absent-mindedly lean into Shanks to get comfortable.

He wraps his arm around you to support you, and you take that as a further prompt to get more relaxed. By the time you’re both comfortable, you’re curled up his lap with your head resting against his chest. Your legs are propped up against one of the arm rests for support, and Shanks’ arm is wrapped around your back and is resting on your waist.

You don’t seem to notice how intimate it is, preoccupied with the paper laid out before you. Shanks, on the other hand, is very aware of it. He isn’t a man who gets embarrassed easily, but he’s doing a quick glance around the deck to see if anyone’s watching you two and your very public display of flirtation with one another.

As he looks around, he spots Beckman eyeing the two of you, and Shanks shifts a bit to pull you in closer to him. You hum pleasantly and don’t even notice Shanks and Beckman exchanging looks, your eyes glued to the paper.

Beckman just raises an eyebrow at his captain, who grins in return. The second in command winks at his captain and turns away, his mission complete.

Your ten minutes flies by without you even realizing it. Thirty minutes, then an hour…

Shanks doesn’t normally like to stay in one place for so long, but he really enjoys having you so close to him and watching you work.

The crew occasionally came up and asked their captain for certain things, and though they wanted to say something about the current situation he was in, nobody brought it up. In fact, they had a running bet for how long you all would stay there before you finally moved.

He would smile to himself every time you scrunched up your nose in frustration or mumbled random phrases to yourself. Normally he would tease you about such things, but he didn’t want to break your concentration or have you realize how much time had passed.

“I got it!” Two hours had passed by the time the map was fully decoded, and Shanks felt his heart fall a little when you held the paper up in triumph. He knew it was much more likely you would abandon your seat now that your task was over.

“It was actually three separate codes, all working off of each other's set codes, like a code within a code! So when you…” You keep explaining the solution to your captain, and he listens intently, watching your every movement.

“You know, I’ve been trying to solve that problem for two weeks.” He laughs softly. “And you solved it in two hours.” Your face flushes noticeably. Two hours?

“I didn’t mind it,” he says, as if he’s reading your thoughts. “It’s the best seat on the ship, after all.”

NSFW

You can feel the tips of your ears growing hot at his remarks, and you quickly swing your legs and start to the ground to stand, but you’re pulled back onto his lap, straddling one of his legs. Your closeness over the past two hours has filled him with courage.

“Hey now.” He presses himself against your back while he speaks, low and soft. “I don’t think I said you could get up yet.”

“Wha-” Your mouth falls open from shock, and you start to question what he means, but you’re immediately cut off when his thigh jolts upwards into the space between your legs, grinding against you. You clamp your mouth shut quickly, biting your lip to prevent a moan from escaping.

“Captain!” It comes out as a low hiss, and you glance around the deck nervously to see if there were any witnesses, but the two of you are alone. You feel his leg buck against you again, and you squirm to get off of his thigh. But he has a tight grip on you, and moving around on him is only making him drive his leg further into you.

He hums in amusement, enjoying the attempt of your half-hearted escape. “Do you not like it?” He teases. “Your heart rate seems to be telling me something different.”

He’s right, of course. You are enjoying it. You don’t answer him, and he can’t see your face, but you can feel yourself wanting to grind back against his leg, enjoying the sensation.

As you begin to move back into him, he shifts his leg, and you lose the high you had both been working together to build. You turn your head to face him, glaring at him for making such an intentional move. He smirks back in return.

“I told you this was the best seat on the ship, and I’ll be damned if I don’t live up to that.”

Luffy

Word count: 1k

“Ha! You lose!”

Of course you lost. You were going up against Luffy in a drinking contest. You returned to your place in the circle of crew members, sitting criss-crossed on the deck. “What do I have to do now?”

Nami pulls a card from the deck, and reads it aloud for everyone to hear. “The loser has to sit on the winner's lap until the next round.”

Your eyes widen as a smile spreads across Luffy’s face. His arms shoot out to grab you before you can even protest, and he pulls you to him. “I love being a winner!” He sets you into his lap, and wraps his arms around you several times so you can’t escape.

Luffy is never one to shy away from public affection. When he has a crush, it’s painfully obvious to everyone around him. The crew had been waiting for him to make a move on you, and finally the opportunity presented itself.

He acts like you all have been in this scenario hundreds of times, there’s no awkwardness whatsoever. As the game goes on, he cheers and laughs, always moving you with him. He’s 100% comfortable with you in his lap.

He keeps his hands wrapped around you and his chest is always flush with your back. You two are one person now. And neither of you have use of your arms.

You squirm a bit, trying to get a hand free to grab a drink. You definitely needed one, with the position you were in. Luffy’s head appears next to yours, his big eyes looking at you with confusion. “Hm? Are you not comfortable?”

“No, no,” you reassure him lightly. Your brain feels a little dizzy from being so close to him. “I just want a drink.”

“Oh!” His arms unravel from you and reach across the circle to grab the drink from your old spot for you. “There you go!” He repositions himself so his arms still get to be wrapped around you, but you have the ability to move your arms again.

He rests his head on your shoulder and watches the others play their various challenges. He yells out words of encouragement and throws out challenge ideas himself. You remind yourself to have Chopper check your ear for signs of hearing loss.

Your turn comes around to partake in another challenge, this time with Zoro. Luffy pouts a bit when he has to relinquish you. It’s a guessing game challenge, and you beat Zoro by a significant amount. When you finish the challenge, you return to your seat in Luffy’s lap.

“Thanks for coming back, even though you didn’t have to!” Luffy snuggles into you and wraps his arms around your torso again. Your face turns as red as his shirt, and everyone laughs before moving on to the next challenge.

NSFW

After a few more rounds, half of the crew turned in for bed. The only ones who remained were you, Nami, Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, and Usopp. You were all extremely drunk, so the challenges had died down, turning into more of a game where you had to answer questions about each other or do something to avoid answering it. You still sat in Luffy’s lap, his head resting lazily on your shoulder.

“Hey, I have one for you, Y/N.” Nami glanced around the circle before continuing. “Who here do you think would be the best in bed?”

You choke on your drink, and you’re not the only one. You see everyone stiffen, and they all eye you inquisitively. You had prided yourself in the fact that you hadn’t turned down a question yet, and you could sense that Nami wanted you to eat your words.

You think about it for a few moments before answering. “Probably Zoro.”

There’s a moment of silence that follows your answer, leaving it hanging in the air. You can’t see Luffy’s face, but you can feel him clench his fists into your side. Your eyes haven’t left Nami’s since you answered, and see a sign of shock appear over her face. She can’t think of anything to say other than, “Wait…really?”

“Well, it’s all in the way you worded it, Nami.” You should shut your mouth and have some shame, but you can’t help it. “If you had asked who’d be the best lover,” you pause to look at the cook. “I’d probably say Sanji.”

Your eyes slide over to Usopp next, ignoring Sanji's reaction. “If you asked who’d be the most adventurous…” you laugh, catching his gaze. “The answer would definitely be Usopp.” Usopp’s eyes widened and looked away.

“But you didn’t ask those things. You asked who’d be the best. Which has to be between Zoro and Luffy.” The group is still silent, and your eyes slide lazily to Zoro, who is returning your gaze with a glare. It’s getting hard to ignore the pain of Luffy’s hands digging into your side, his silent plea for you to stop talking, but you still continue on.

“It’d be close, but objectively, I think it would be Zoro. But…” you pause for a second, your eyes returning to Nami. “If you asked me who I want to fuck the most, the answer would obviously be Luffy.”

At the mention of his name in that context, Luffy’s grip finally loosens on you. Everyone is staring at you in disbelief of such a bold statement, still unable to speak. You wait a beat before laughing at them all. “Well, I think that’s a good note for me to end on.” You peel Luffy’s arms off of you and stand up. “I’m off to bed.”

Luffy, with no ounce of shame in his bones, stands up before you even make it through the door. “Yeah, uh, me too!” He bounds off after you. “Goodnight!”

As soon as he’s through the door, he reaches out to grab you and pull you back to him. You don’t even have time to react before his lips are on yours, his hands tangled in your hair.

“Luffy-” you pull away from his kiss gasping for air, but are instantly pulled into another one before you can finish your sentence.

“I’m gonna prove you wrong,” he whispers against your lips. “I’m gonna prove that I’m the best at all those things.”

Law

Word count: 950

“Okay, flip them!”

You turn your card on the table that you’re kneeling in front of. Two of spades. You look around, praying not to find a match.

“Two of spades! The captain has a two of spades!” Bepo is looking back and forth between the two of you. Your eyes cut across to Law, looking equally as unenthused as he is.

“Who has the highest card?”

Ikkaku calls out “I have a queen,” and you feel relief. Until you hear a snicker from across the room that implies she’s been beat.

“I have a king.” You groan as Shachi flashes the card. There’s no way this man is going to go easy on you two. “Y/N has to sit on the captain’s lap for the rest of the game…or thirty minutes. Whichever is last.”

Law scowls at his crew member. “No way. Captain veto.”

“You can’t veto on game night!” Shachi reminds him, and Law curses under his breath. Your face is warm, and the table in front of you has become very interesting in the past 30 seconds.

“Get over here, y/n-ya.” You flinch at his directness, but get up and walk to his side of the table. “Sorry about all this,” he mutters to you, as he moves into a criss-cross seated position to accommodate for your new punishment.

“I don’t blame you,” you say, taking a seat in his lap. “I blame Shachi.” You stick your tongue out at your crew mate, but he only winks at you in return.

Law is the kind of person who completely ignores the fact that this is happening. He doesn’t necessarily avoid touching you, but he doesn’t go out of his way to do it either. You all continue to play the game as you normally would, just in the space of each other rather than separately.

You can feel his body tighten whenever you move or shift against him. You can’t see his face, but every time you move to readjust yourself, there’s someone calling out, “What’s wrong, Captainnnn? Why’s your face so red??”

You lose again, and while the winner is trying to make up a punishment, Law excuses him to use the bathroom. Shachi refuses to let him go, and you can feel Law twitch in irritation behind you. “I just have to piss, I’ll come right back!” Shachi’s eyes slide to you, still seated on the ground, and that mischievous grin of his reappears. “Fine, Captain. I’ll make an exception for you this once.”

As soon as Law leaves, Shachi is next to Clione in an instant, whispering in his ear. A similar grin begins to mirror on Clione’s face as Shachi whispers his elaborate plan. “Y/N, you have to flirt with the captain.” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open at their cruelty. You hadn’t told anyone about your blooming feelings for the Captain yet. There’s no way they could know, and yet they somehow did. Shachi sees your horror, and delightfully adds “Really lay it on thick, too! I want obvious flirting! Just once.”

“I’m so sorry about this, Y/N-ya.” Law apologizes again as he sits down, and you’re not sure why he’s the one who's sorry. (Really, Law is apologizing because Shachi knows that he has a crush on you and Shachi loves to meddle. Law vows to never tell another soul anything personal again after today.)

You lock eyes for a second with Shachi, who is waving you on discreetly. “Oh, it’s really not so bad, Captain.” You laugh and turn yourself sideways so you can see his face better. You place your arms around his neck and look into his eyes, which are wide with confusion and shock. “It’s almost more comfortable than…”

The phrase getting lost in his eyes suddenly makes sense to you. You’ve never noticed how intricate his eyes were, like layers of golden flecks rather than one solid color. Even down here in the submarine with harsh luminescent lighting, they shine in a way you didn’t think was humanly possible. “Um…”

The entire crew starts laughing, and your face turns a deep red. You quickly unclasp your hands from his neck and turn around, facing the table again. All of the confidence you just had was completely washed away with one look from your captain.

“Hey, Y/N-ya, are you okay?” His voice is soft and warm, and you can feel a hand rest on your shoulder, trying to get you to turn back to him again. “I’m fine! Sorry about that, captain.” Instead of turning back to him, you look for Shachi, who smirks and holds up a thumbs up. It could’ve gone better, but you’ll take it.

Law is absolutely perplexed by the scene you just made, but he didn’t hate it. He just wished the two of you were alone when you had done it so it would have lasted longer. He shoots a glare across the rest of his subordinates, who are still laughing at your alls interaction. “Quiet down. It’s not that big of a deal.”

You all sit awkwardly for the rest of your sentence. You sit straight up in his lap, and he stays more leaned back away. Law definitely thinks that he’s the one who made you uncomfortable and wants to give you as much space as possible for the rest of the time.

I'm so sorry Law stans there is no NSFW for him because there is no way this man is making a move on you after one little moment or letting Shachi take all the credit for you guys getting together. This would be a PAINFULLY slow burn. (but if someone requests a followup to this or any of these pieces I wouldn’t be opposed 👀 )

Law’s NSFW portion is up here!!!

6K notes · View notes

goldenhypen · 7 months

Text

→ ENHYPEN’S RED FLAGS !! ⚠︎

PAIRING | ot7 x fem!reader

GENRE | crack

WORD COUNT | 1.3k

WARNINGS | mentions of food; reader is referred to as “girl”; i’m pretty sure it’s fine but it is possible i made mistakes w the tenses (i’m still tryna get used to writing more in present tense T-T)

DISCLAIMER | THIS IS NOT IN ANY WAY A FORM OF HATE TOWARDS ENHYPEN (pls i love these boys w my entire being how could i) this is a joke so don’t take this too seriously lol

A/N | had the time of my life choosing pics for the moodboard btw they had me out here cackling at 3 am (first red flag: i’m out here losing sleep bc of them !! smh)

이희승 ! HEESEUNG

too handsome… how can you stand to look at that devilishly handsome face without ever passing out due to lack of oxygen in your lungs when he’s always taking your breath away?! also y’all become way too popular; people are always staring at you two (not only heeseung but you too obviously 😏), it’s tiring being so famous yk 🙄

good at everything… it’s lowk invigorating sometimes bc he’s always outdoing you in everything. when you play games, he’s beating you; when you’re having fun at karaoke, he’s always out-singing you or showing off with his fancy riffs and harmonies; when you’re playing sports together, he always has a way of beating you, no matter what the sport. he even manages to do better at the simple task of making ramyeon. and we all know that’s only to list a few. it’s just so tiring having such a perfect bf 😔

박종성 ! JAY

jawline is too sharp… you cup his jaw as you kiss him then suddenly you hurt your hand on his sharp jawline !! it’s not fair that you have to sacrifice your hands every day just because he looks so good.

cooks for everyone… because he cooks so much, you can’t just be hanging out watching him be all hot and sexy as he cooks for everyone all the time !! you’ve had enough of back hugging him, cheek pressed against his firm back muscles (they’re so strong, it hurts your face !!), or smelling and eating all the delicious food,,, you just wanna spend alone time with your man, without the kitchen as the third wheel :’D your bf is just so husband material, and being able to provide for everyone aside from just you and him is just so, totally, very much, rlly unattractive (that’s sarcastic btw i actually couldn’t come up w any negative points to this why would anyone hate that about him-)

심재윤 ! JAKE

always has his tongue hanging outside of his mouth or his teeth sunk into his bottom lip with a smirk… no wonder my man always has ulcers lol jk i have no idea how that actually works,, but you can never kiss him cuz his mouth hurts !! but he’s too hot for you to handle anyways so- sometimes he’ll be all seductive with that smirk after swiftly swiping his tongue over his lips and you have to literally take a moment to compose yourself before he wraps his hands around your waist, biting his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you,, oh my heart :’>

loves his dog too much… sure, loving layla taught him ways on how to love on his own future girl, but you didn’t realize how long it would take him to transfer the title of his most favourite girl from layla to you. you were always competing with a dog and yes, she’s cute but how was this fair?! so let’s just say it took many years of hard work and determination until you finally stole that hard earned title.

박성훈 ! SUNGHOON

doesn’t hang out with enough girls… so he has no experience when it comes to dating you. even before dating you, he was basically a total clutz. not being around girls enough made him feel nervous whenever he was around them due to lack of experience. and so whenever it came to you at first, he was always a nervous wreck and super awkward. and even after dating you, though he is so much better and confident, he still has his slip ups and tends to get super shy whenever you make him flustered (which occurs a lot more often than you’d imagine)! alexa play ‘super shy’ by newjeans 👖

too funny… he randomly comes out with these stupidly funny jokes or comments that make you laugh so hard, it makes your tummy, cheeks and lungs hurt. whenever you tell him you’re gonna die of laughter, you’re not joking.

김선우 ! SUNOO

too sassy… like why does he always have to react with his eye rolls or side eyes whenever you tease him, with that snarky scoff. and then when he’d tease you back, he’d just take the remarks to a whole other level. but occasionally this sass would be used in your favour; whenever a friend would tease you, he’d always get very defensive and have the best comebacks. actually depending on how close you two are with the friend, he once in a while would take the side of your friend and just tease you harder.

perfect figure… he outdoes you all the time. like sunoo give us ladies a chance to shine?? he’s always stealing the spotlight, it’s annoying sometimes !! 🙄 like yes, you (y/n) are always hot and super attractive (self confidence!!! you deserve to love yourself 😌) but for some reason people are always complimenting sunoo’s body instead of yours. but let me let you in on a little secret… it’s only because it’s obvious you’re the one who’s clearly more physically attractive. and who states the obvious these days anyway? hmph 😌

양정원 ! JUNGWON

too loveable… in other words,, there’s nothing to ever (playfully) hate on him with or tease him about !! so boring 👎👎👎 like you just constantly wanna love on him. he can be teasing you about an embarrassing moment of yours that happened just a couple minutes ago, and then you try to think of a comeback but then you take one glimpse into his eyes and suddenly you’re melting on the spot as your mind is wiped of everything you could’ve ever thought up in one quick moment. and suddenly you can only think about the things about him that give you warm, fluffy feelings. HE COULD BE DOING THE BARE MINIMUM AND YOURE FULL HEART EYES FOR HIM he’s just perfect. so unfair and so not fun 👎👎

duality… DOES HE EVEN UNDERSTAND THAT HE SHOULD HAVE YOUR HEART TO LOOK AFTER ???? like what about your well being ??? how about YOUR FEELINGS ???? like you’re constantly being emotionally pulled this way and that cuz one second he’ll be the cutest bf ever with his bread cheeks and fluffy smile when all of a sudden he has a dance to practice and all of a sudden he’s in performance mode, and his duality is just insane !!! is that even the same jungwonie that was with you just a second ago ???? i think not !!! smh

西村力 ! NI-KI

too tall; doesn’t stop growing… (if he’s a lot taller than you) how are you gonna kiss him?? how is he gonna kiss you?? no but even if he isn’t a lot taller than you now, this boy doesn’t stop growing. you won’t admit it but it’s actually really romantic and hot the way he’d do things to match your heights, such as the other day when he carried you onto the counter, stood between your legs, and pressed his lips against yours in the hottest kiss you’ve ever shared. it’s simply not okay ???

too good of a dancer… outdoes you in every dance game. like riki at least give us a chance??? i mean sometimes he does, but the competitive side of him always wins and he just ends up beating you anyways like always 🙄 also getting to watch him on stage is like seeing a whole other riki. you mostly know him for his goofy personality, but whenever you get to see him perform, he switches that off and enters his alter ego and it has to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. so you get the best of both worlds… which obviously isn’t healthy for your heart ???

A/N | it takes only two seconds and a click to make your favourite writers’ day with a reblog. and if you want to take 30 extra seconds of your day to add even just the smallest comment, even just a few nice words of encouragement in your reblog or in the comments, those put the biggest smiles on our faces. let us know how you liked what you just read by telling us and showing us so we can continue putting out content that you can enjoy! thank you! <3

M.LIST | TAGLIST FORM

TAGLIST 1 | @seroriis @raimbows4u @beibybtch @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @forjaeyun @koishua @4ri-ki @sunoksunny @kookielover29 @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @1unxtic @palajae @clarakyunisageek @annoyingbitch83 @wonswondrland @malarign @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @ktttwwn @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts

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ryker-writes · 6 months

Note

Hello! May I request a reader who likes to use a weighted blanket when stressed or have a bad dream, but when that gets ruined or disappeared, they try to convince their bf to lay on them instead? Sorry if I worded this weirdly. This with Idia, Malleus, Leona, and Jack? 💜

Hello again 💜 anon! I hope you're doing well!

Request rules and Masterlists

Idia:

w h a t

you want physical contact????

congratulations, you broke him

it would definitely take a lot of convincing to get Idia to lay on you, but he understands the stress and how amazing a weighted blanket can be

so eventually, he may give in

but he's SUPER awkward about it

he doesn't know what to do, where to look, where to put his hands, and he's so nervous and flustered the entire time

expect him to continue playing games while he's laying on you

but you can watch him play that way!

he will buy you another weighted blanket later though to save himself from having to be so flustered like that again

Malleus:

he's a bit confused at your request at first, but who is he to deny his favorite child of man?

Malleus loves laying on you and being that close to you so he's a happy dragon

but he's VERY careful when laying on you because he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you with his weight or horns

he's very careful and considerate about any request you make and will listen to anything you want

he very much enjoys it though and loves spending the time with you

be careful because he will want to be your weighted blanket from now on like he will fully replace yours

he won't buy you another. He is the weighted blanket now.

(Sebek is having a breakdown when he finds out about this)

Leona:

yeah okay

he doesn't question it or anything and just goes straight to you to laydown

do not expect to be able to get up for the next 2-3 hours

to be honest, he probably lays on you normally so this is no different

you're his best pillow and he loves you

he actually takes this as your response to stress and anytime you're stressed he will just come lay on you without a word

you will never need another weighted blanket with him around

he's not only laying on top of you but he is fully wrapped around you and you're not allowed to move

he may or may not say later that he needs you to be his weighted blanket so you'll lay on him

Jack:

Jack is a very loving and supportive boyfriend, but he's so confused at your request

you're probably gonna have to explain how the weighted blanket helps and how he can help

once you do he's fully willing to help! (even though he's blushing)

he wants to do anything that will make you feel better so he'll help of course

but he's also worried that he might accidentally hurt you or crush you with his weight

once you start showing signs that you're feeling better his worries disappear

even though he's a bit flustered he loves being this close to you and you can even see his tail wagging side to side slowly

he'd be happy to do this again if you ever needed him to, but if you want a new weighed blanket he's happy to get you one too

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luveline · 10 months

Text

𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you get embarrassed and miguel won’t let it go —featuring a smug miguel and a pining spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"This is super, uber bad," Lyla drawls lightly.

Miguel waves an annoyed hand at her, gaze on the orange monitor in front of him. You shift from foot to foot beside him, neck craned to watch in tandem.

"Like, so bad. Maybe you should go help."

"I can't intervene now," Miguel says.

"How come?" you ask, pulling at the tips of your gloves one at a time as you worry, until the whole thing is slipping off and onto the floor.

You make no move to pick it up. Miguel glances down at it, then the screen again before saying, "Because they'll never learn. And because there's too many fingers in the same pie."

"Pie?" you ask.

"You don't want that?" he asks, pointing at your fallen glove.

You blink, pulled back to the present from your stewing anxiety. It's hard seeing people you care about getting their asses handed to them and knowing you can't help.

Miguel rolls his eyes, only half-making fun as he leans down for your glove. You lean at the same time, almost knocking your head into his as your fingers brush. Miguel looks up, suddenly face to face with you. Your breath catches in your throat at the proximity. You can see every dark lash hedging his eyes, feel the fanning of his exhale as it kisses your top lip.

His confusion is obvious. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

"Uh– it’s nothing."

His eyes narrow, your heart skips a beat, and while Miguel might not have a spider sense he's still enhanced. He must hear it. Something in his eyes changes, the smallest flicker of amusement relaxing his brow.

You wince and stand up rigidly straight, face to the screen again so he can't see your flustered expression head on. "Nothing."

"Sort of felt like something."

"It's nothing, Miguel."

"That why you forgot this?"

You look down at his offered hand, your glove bunched up in his big palm.

Your lips part of their own accord, any effort you've made to appear unaffected by him, his stature, and his general imposing demeanour now worthless. Too quickly, you snatch the glove from his hand and yank it back over your fingers, your pinky bending uncomfortably from the sheer force of it.

"It's nothing," Miguel repeats without inflection, though he crosses his arms and chuckles a second later.

You squirm beside him. "I– I'm distracted."

"I can tell. Something caught your eye?"

The urge to cover your face with both hands reaches an all time high. You settle for covering one flushed cheek. "Nothing interesting."

"No? Well, we can change that."

"Would you stop?" you ask, trying to sound furious but definitely bordering pleading.

"I'm not doing anything. Nothing happened."

"I wouldn't take that, if it were me," Lyla chimes in.

"Good thing it's not you," Miguel says.

Things are quiet for a while. Miguel refocuses on the fight unfolding on screen, and you try to calm your beating heart. The embarrassment refuses to wane, your pulse too stubborn to slow, and eventually Miguel must take pity on you, leaning toward you with arms crossed over his chest. "It wasn't that bad," he says.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm trying to make you feel better."

"You– I– you were so close to me, I got nervous, it– it has nothing to do with you."

Miguel raises his eyebrows. "Oh, okay." He straightens up. "Nothing to do with me. You know I can hear your heart, right?"

"Wow. Is that unique to you?" you ask scathingly, knowing every Spider in the whole headquarters can likely hear the drum of your heart right now.

You know he's teasing because he finally managed to catch you in a moment of awkwardness rather than the other way around, and because he's an asshole —you think that part hard, hoping his enhanced hearing has improved to include telepathy. Like he can tell, he grins, and he nods at nothing in particular.

"Don't worry, Spider-Girl. I won't hold it against you."

"Generous," you say.

His voice drops to a rough, lilting murmur, "People have said that about me. Tall, handsome, generous." It's impossible to miss the implication.

Your heart rockets and you have to turn away from him entirely to maintain any dignity you have left.

"You know what else they say?" Lyla asks. "That he's a smug, tightly wound control freak who's too busy being a bad sport, totally missing Jess' call for backup."

"What?" Miguel asks, all smoothness dropped from his voice. "Respond!"

"Say sorry to Y/N."

"Lyla!"

"Say sorry–"

"I'm sorry," he says to you. You're happy to find genuine apology in his gaze, if only for a second. "Lyla, respond."

"Already did."

Miguel gets so immediately angry that his head tips back and his eyes screw closed, grunting his dissatisfaction. You send Lyla a grateful smile, smothering a wave of laughs with your gloved hand.

"Don't worry, Miguel," you say cheerfully. "I won't hold it against you."

"...Thank you."

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thanks for reading! i hope u enjoyed, pls reblog if u have the time! <;3 my other miguel fics

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sicbaby · 11 months

Text

Keep Quiet

ethan landry x fem!reader

contents: 18+ smut, established relationship, subby!virgin!ethan, dom!reader, handjob, public (kinda?) sex

authors note: hi!! this is my first time posting smut publicly so i’m nervous… i’m also hella rusty with writing so i hope it’s not too bad lol. hope u guys like it!! <3

It was movie night tonight at Sam and Tara’s. The whole gang would be there, except for Sam and Danny, as they had chosen to go out on a date. You had just started dating Ethan a few months prior to now, upon meeting him at the beginning of the school year when Chad introduced the two of you. He was the perfect boyfriend. smart, tall, handsome.., a bit awkward, but you loved that about him.

Everyone was sleeping over that night, and you decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to finally make a move on Ethan. He’s a virgin, and although you two are a couple, he still gets super nervous around you and definitely isn’t confident enough to make the first move. You think it’s cute, though. He’d do anything for you.

Movie night was just beginning a little after 8 pm on a cold and windy Friday night. Chad and Tara were putting together snacks in the kitchen, Mindy and Anika were at the dinner table, and you and Ethan were sat on the couch. Soon enough, the other couples had joined you in the living room. Mindy and Anika took their place all the way at the other end of the couch, while Tara and Chad opted for the floor. This left you and Ethan in a secluded corner far away from the other couples. perfect, you thought.

Tara was picking the movie tonight, and she put on the horror movie, It Follows. you silently roll your eyes at your best friend. You’ve seen this movie countless times… so you knew you were going to get bored, quickly. Nevertheless, you watched silently as Tara turned off all of the lights in the apartment, leaving the TV as the only source of light. You snuggled up to Ethan, his arm wrapped around the back of the couch, around your shoulders. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he smiles at you sweetly before turning his attention back to the TV.

It’s about 20 minutes into the movie when you really start getting bored. You let out a loud sigh, though it doesn’t catch Ethan’s attention. You and Ethan are covered by a blanket, and an idea pops into your head. Something that will surely reverse your boredom. You place your small hand on Ethan’s thigh, a little higher than normal. This catches his attention.

“You okay?” He asks, his voice a quiet whisper.

“Mhm!” You hum back, happily.

He just smiles at you and returns back to the movie.

You have a devilish grin on your face as you start slowing caressing Ethan’s thigh. Ethan’s breathing speeds up slightly, and his eyes dart to where your hand would be under the blanket for only a moment before he turns back to the movie. He leans against you a little more, and pulls you closer. He smiles again.

“What? Not enjoying the movie?” he whispers, his breath tickling your ear.

This seems to rile you up a bit, seeing how innocent your boyfriend was, and how close he had gotten to you. You just smile back at him, and scoot even closer, if possible, your fingers now beginning to crawl up towards his clothed crotch.

Ethan’s breathing accelerates again with every passing second, but he says nothing about it. His heart speeds up as he senses your hand getting closer and closer, and he feels his face burning red with embarrassment. He blushes as his breathing gets heavier yet, his eyes fixed to the screen. His lips brush against the top of your head as he breathes heavily.

You reach the top of his thigh, staying there for a moment, before boldly cupping his hard dick with your entire hand. Ethan gasps and shifts in his seat with a shocked expression.

“What… what are you doing?” he whispers.

“You can’t- we can’t-… do this right now…” He blushes brightly, pulling his hands up to cover his face in embarrassment and shyness.

“Maybe later… we can…” He blushes even further than before. He can’t bring himself to say it, but it’s very clear what he’s implying.

“Oh. Well, why not now? Aren’t you in the mood, baby?” you whisper. “It Follows doesn’t turn you on?” You tease.

Ethan lets out a breathy laugh. He doesn’t seem upset by your teasing. “I mean… it has its moments…” He blushes again, his eyes still fixed to the screen. “Not that I need to tell you about that kind of stuff, right?” He glances at you from out of the corner of his eye again, growing nervous. “Maybe that’s what I’ll do tonight…” He mutters, “You know, when the- when the movie is over…” Ethan implies that he doesn’t want you to continue your sinful actions in front of your friends, but that won’t stop you.

“Yeah, let’s do that. but for now I wanna have my fun…” you whisper. At that, you remove your hand from his hard on and slowly unzip his jeans with your index finger.

“Are you… are you gonna do what I think you’re going to do?” He says sheepishly, a slight nervous laugh escaping his lips. His face is still bright red, and he can feel how hot and hard he is right now.

“Hmm?” You hum back, playing dumb.

“…Do you want to do… that?” He whispers, a dumbfounded look on his face. He looks back at you, in a trance. He couldn’t believe it. Yes, you’re his girlfriend, but you’re also the hottest girl he’s ever laid eyes on.. and you? You! You wanted to jerk him off, right then and there? He was in heaven. As he looks into your eyes for a moment, he watches you nod.

“You do?” He says excitedly, sounding incredibly sincere as his heart races.

You giggle at how eager he is, but stop yourself for a second.

“You have to promise to be quiet, though, baby. You don’t want them to hear us, do you?” You nod to where your friends are sitting, looking deep into Ethan’s puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah... that’s right.” He gets serious, but you can see in his eyes how excited he is.. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it quiet.” He says quietly, pulling himself a little closer.

After fully unzipping his jeans, you place your hand over his boxers, feeling him for just a moment. Ethan’s breath hitches at your touch, feeling more of you due to the thin layer left over his cock. His eyes start to roll back in his head, and you barely even touched him yet.

“O-Oh shit…” He says quietly, barely audible over the loud movie. He lets out a soft moan, biting his lip as he tries to contain his excitement.

You giggle again. “Shhh, baby.” You whisper as you start moving your fingers over his clothed dick, feeling his length.

Ethan tries not to make any noise, but he keeps letting out soft, barely audible noises, his body burning red. His entire body is tensing up, and he can feel how painfully hard he is. “Mm…” He moans quietly. You quickly shoot him a warning glance.

“I can’t help it, I’m sorry…” He says sheepishly.

You ignore his moaning this time, and gasp as you feel a wet spot on his boxers.

“Look at that… so wet already. That’s so cute.” You tease him.

“S-Shut up!” He mutters under his breath, desperation growing on his face. “S-Stop teasing me!” His words are shaky with anticipation, and he starts rocking in his seat, trying to create some friction against your hand.

It feels good for him at first, and then you stop moving your hand altogether, which causes Ethan to really work for his pleasure now. His breath hitches again, and he whimpers louder than he meant to. He looks over at you, worried. He catches you smiling at him mischievously.

“You’re so… mean..” he whispers, biting his lip to try and stifle his moan. “Please..” He begins to beg.

You start to feel bad for the poor boy. You didn’t want to tease him too much, knowing that this is the first time anyone other than himself has touched him like this. So, you reach into the hole in his boxers and pull out his long, hard cock. You can’t see it under the blanket, but you can feel the veins running up and down his length, making you grow wet just by touching him. You start to slowly move your hand up and down his hard cock, finally giving him the pleasure he was so desperate for.

“Oh…” His voice is weak, and he can feel the heat building inside him. ”Oh, that feels so…good.” He whimpers again as actual tears begin to form in his eyes. He doesn’t seem to notice, as he’s completely distracted by what’s happening.

You want to please him so bad at this point, but you can’t help but tease him one last time. You reach the tip of his cock and give it a hard squeeze.

Ethan jumps and bites his lip, trying to hide a loud moan but ultimately failing.

“W-What was that for!?... You’re so mean…” He says again, more tears threatening to slip out. He looks down at his hands, which were shaking slightly from what was happening. “Please… we’re going to get caught!” He begs quietly, glancing around. He takes in a deep breath to try and steady himself. “I-I don’t know if I can keep quiet…”

You giggle even more, you really are evil.

“Well you’re gonna have to keep quiet. ‘Cause I want you to cum… right here, right now.”

Ethan takes a deep breath, his face turning bright red. You start to stroke him again, a little bit faster, spreading his wetness all over his long cock.

“M-mm…” This makes his breathing become heavy again, his heart racing at an incredible pace. He takes in another long breath. For a moment, he wonders whether he should tell you to stop for good. Instead, he lets out a soft moan. “Please…” He doesn’t even know what’s he’s begging for at this point.

You continue stroking him fast and hard, paying extra attention to his swollen head, squeezing it every now and then.

Ethan lets out a soft cry this time, his breath shaking. His eyes are rolled back in his head. He can feel his mind starting to go blank, and his vision starts to grow fuzzy.

“Oh, y/n…” He mutters.

“Yes, baby?” you respond back.

Ethan’s heart is beating out of his chest. He tries and fails to form words. He bites his bottom lip in anticipation, unable to express anything except soft moans in response, his face burning bright red.

As he is unable to respond, you assume he must be close to reaching his high.

“Are you close, e?”

The words catch in his throat, but he nods quietly. “Yeah…” He whines silently, his body shaking even more. His breath grows heavier.

“Oh, god… keep going… please…” He whispers, his voice barely audible. He tries once again to steady himself, but fails.

“Come on sweet boy, cum for me. Cum all over my hand, e.” You urge him on, keeping a steady, fast pace.

Ethan shakes his head, tears starting to form in his eyes again.

“N-no… I can’t…” He mutters silently, changing his mind once he realizes he won’t be able to keep quiet once he reaches his orgasm, it feels too good now… his face is burning bright red in embarrassment. He looks down from the ceiling, his breathing getting louder and the heat building until he’s practically shaking.

“I-I... I... I can’t…” He says, a small whine escaping his lips. “I can’t do it... not now…” He mutters, biting his lip. “Later, though. I promise…” He mutters again, wiping away his tears. “Not now…”

You don’t know how nobody has noticed a crying, shaking Ethan on the other side of the couch, but if you two have gotten this far, you sure as hell aren’t stopping now. You grit your teeth a little, starting to squeeze his cock even harder.

“Yes, now!” you whisper-yell.

Ethan gasps, his hands balling up into fists as his breathing is uncontrollable.

“You-you have to stop…” He says quietly this time, his head rolling all over the place.

“I-I can’t hold it in…” He begs, his muscles shaking from the effort.

“Please, y/n… I can’t do it…” He whines, a pleading tone to his voice.

“Stop…” He whines, his face bright red. “I can’t..” His voice breaks slightly.

You feel bad again as tears start to stream down his face. Your poor boy, it’s way too much for him, but you know he’ll feel so good once he finally releases.

“Let go, baby… Come on… Let go for me, sweet boy. Don’t you wanna make me happy?” You pout.

Ethan’s eyes fix onto you, a look of absolute terror in his eyes.

“Y-Yes! Yes, I do…” He practically yells, the panic very visibly evident in his voice. He wants to be a good boy for you. His hands are shaking, and the heat is building up inside him. A soft whimper escapes his lips, and he can feel himself losing control.

“I…” He whines, his voice cracking slightly as he speaks, his entire body tensing up.

“I think I... I think I’m gonna…” He mutters, his face burning bright red.

Suddenly, hot spurts of cum shoot out of his poor, aching and abused cock. Little whimpers and moans fall from his pretty pink lips uncontrollably.

“Nghh- Fuck…. Holy shit… Haa…” You watch his face contort in pleasure and continue stroking him through his high, a lot slower now.

“Good boy…” You say once he slowly comes down, knowing he can hear you properly now.

Ethan’s face is bright red, and he lets out an astonished groan. His head slumps down in embarrassment, and he takes a few deep breaths. He shakes a little as he tries to calm himself.

“Oh, my god… that felt incredible…” He whispers, his heart rate starting to slow down.

“Thank you…” He mutters, resting his head against your shoulder. His face is still red, but he looks a little bit more calm than he did a moment ago.

“How… how can I ever repay you?”

You smile, thinking it’s sweet that he immediately thought of you and your pleasure.

“You can repay me later, sweet boy.” You say as you remove your hand from his now soft cock. You bring your hand to your face, and lick his spent off of your fingers.

Ethan’s eyes grow wide when he sees you licking your fingers and he gasps. He waits until you’re done before speaking again.

“I… I uh… I can’t believe you just did that…” He says sheepish, blushing brightly. “You’re disgusting…” He says, but he doesn’t sound like he means it. He laughs again.

“And evil…” He mutters with a grin.

“I can’t wait to see what else you’ll make me do…” He whispers, biting his lip, the poor boy got hard again just by seeing you lick his cum off of your fingers.

“Oh… just you wait, baby.”

#ethan landry smut #ethan landry #scream #scream iv #scream 6 #scream imagine #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #scream smut

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angelltheninth · 22 days

Note

May I request headcanons of your top three X-men men receiving a love confession from their crush? Except the crush is really shy so the confession is incredibly awkward and nervous. Thank you! (Ps, I love Nightcrawler too!)

Right?! Nightcrawler is so cute!

Pairing: Logan "Wolverine" Howlett, Remy "Gambit" LeBeau, Kurt "Nightcrawler" Wagner x Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, love confession, first kiss as a couple, super powers, being flustered, teasing

A/N: Btw, who are your top 3 X-Men?

LOGAN HOWLETT

Oh this is too good, too cute. He's sitting back in his chair, burly arms crossed over his chest, a huge shit-eating grin on his face while you struggle to get your words out Come on, you can do it, if you can't then do you really have what it takes to date him? There's a reward in it for you if you can confess while looking at him, he guarantees you'll like what he has in mind. It's a date with him, a ride on his motorcycle, or did you have a different ride in mind?

REMY LEBEAU

Let's you finish your awkward confession and kisses you the second you get the last word out. Finally, he's been waiting forever to do that, and to hear you confess to him. He thought he was being too flirty but you were just shy weren't you? That's cute too, but hopefully you can open up to him a bit more now that he's officially your boyfriend. Did that kiss not make it clear enough for you? Then you need one more to really get it through your head.

KURT WAGNER

Wraps his tail around you before you can flee from him. Don't run now, you've put so much into that confession, don't you want to hear what he has to say as well? You don't mind if he teleports you to his room do you? Not for anything lewd of course, he would never take advantage of you feelings. He needs to have a long talk with you, if you're really serious about him you have to be ready to take things slow. It's not a now, just telling you to be ready for the long game.

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novastarrs · 3 months

Text

I Can Explain|| Clarisse La Rue

Paring: Clarisse La Rue x Demeter’s Daughter Reader

Summary: You find a bear cub while walking in the woods and bring him back to your cabin.

REQUEST ARE OPEN

——

Nature has always been your favorite thing in the world. No matter if it was plants or animals, you were attracted to it and they were attracted to you. When you were six your father walked down stairs after hearing rustling in the kitchen, assuming it was just you trying to get a snack.

Imagine his surprise when he found raccoons in the kitchen with you petting them like they were dogs. As you got older it made more sense on why you loved nature because your mother was Demeter meaning animals adored you to death and your couldn’t say no to them.

This is the reason you found yourself in a sticky situation.

While walking in the woods you ran into a baby bear and couldn’t find its mother and you couldn’t just leave the little guy so you know what you did?

You scooped him up and ran to your cabin, how did no one notice a little fuzzy bear in your arms? You had no clue but you weren’t complaining.

Once you reached your cabin you locked the door and when your girlfriend tried to open it, you panicked.

You knew for a fact Clarisse wasn’t going to rat you out to Chiron or Mr. D because she loved you way too much for that but she’s already given you a talk about taking in animals after the flying squirrel incident.

Naturally you did what felt like the best solution…you threw a blanket over your new friend and ran out the door and quickly closed it before Clarisse could see inside and your temporary roommate.

A surprised look formed on her face but as quickly as it appeared it was gone as she smiled at you. Not a cocky smirk like she normally gave people to keep up her bad girl persona but a real smile that was reserved only for you.

“Hey, buttercup.” She said walking over to you and pressing a quick kiss on your lips, looking at you with so much adoration that you basically melted.

She never failed to make you feel shy under her gaze.

“Hi.” You said shyly, leaning your back against the door and holding onto the handle tightly.

Clarisse was the daughter of Ares and the children of said man noticed everything and she definitely noticed the nervous look on your face and the way you were gripping the door knob.

“Are you ok?” Clarisse asked crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow and you had to stop yourself from looking at the way her muscles flexed as she moved.

“Yeah, I’m great!” You said immediately, looking at her with big doe eyes and an awkward smile.

She knew you were lying but she didn’t push you for answers, knowing you would come to her when you were ready to her what’s on your mind.

“Anyways can I come in? I want to tell you about the new kid.” Clarisse tried to reach behind you to open the door but you shook your head.

“NO!” You shouted surprising both of you since you never raised your voice, clearing your throat you continued. “Uhm, my cabin is super messy. Let’s go to your cabin instead.”

Without waiting for her to respond you tried to usher her down the steps of the balcony when a crash came from inside your cabin and Clarisse didn’t miss the way you tensed up or how you avoided looking her in the eye.

“(Y/N), who’s in your cabin?” She slowly asked, grip tightening around her spear that she carried everywhere and you had to stop yourself from snorting at the accusation it was a person.

“No one.” You replied just as another crash came from the room.

Technically you weren’t lying, a person wasn’t in your cabin but an animal most definitely was.

Rolling her eyes, Clarisse moved you aside gently and barged into the room. Her spear glowing with electricity ready to fry the person her girlfriend was trying to hide.

You quickly followed her and your jaw dropped at the sight of your decapitated stuffed animal that was in the jaw’s of your new friend who was currently messing with the stuffing that was carelessly floating in the air and covering the floor.

Clarisse just stared at the sight in front of her for a moment before she slowly turned her head and raised an eyebrow at you but you just smiled.

“I can explain…”

#clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse pjo #percy jackon and the olympians

509 notes · View notes

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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sharkorok · 10 months

Text

heeseung w/ an inexperienced s/o

cw/genre: this is fluff!!! fluff!!, headcanon format, cursing, fboi au, campus au ig…(?), like one dirty joke or whatnot teeheehoohoo, informal writing, that should be it (I think)

requested: X

a/n: this grown man has me so delulu so take this 😋

•-•-•-•

-u are well known for being notoriously bad at expressing affection or being in relationships

-you can’t do casual relationships this man once said “hey baby” and you were like “so I think we should lowk end things cuz why u calling me bby…kinda weird dawg…”

-UR JUST SO AWKWARDDDD ITS EMBARRASSING (I’ll write ur character development soon dw)

-anyways so you go to a party and you see heeseung who is notorious for being the craziest charmer ever like he could see an acorn on the ground and seduce it

-he strikes up conversation with you to see what the fuss is all about, he saw a person once talk about how ur so hot w a cold heart but he immediately realized you’re just awkward skssksksks

-he realizes he literally fell in love with you the second he tried to flirt and you were just …? while laughing awkwardly

-so after a month of you flitting around his charming gestures, looking down shyly or avoiding eye contact when he tries to rizz u up, he gets the courage to just straight up ask, “do you like me?”

-and when you explain that u don’t rlly know and u don’t really get into relationships he’s like OKKK LETS TRY THEN!! because he’s so madly in lov w you cuz ur so cute to him

-ok so boom dating!

-he purposely pushes your buttons to see just how much you can squirm, watching you stammer when he has you pressed against a wall gives him a power trip he didn’t think anyone could be this adorable

-and also u as a person…he’s so in love (dreamily)

-no one understands your relationship like, “how does y/n survive heeseung they can’t even say the word baby without cringing”

-ur not innocent or anything ur just new to affection and stuff so it freaks u out a little!!

-he always asks about boundaries before hand or makes sure you’re comfortable when you two are hanging out. the first time you two were cuddling he would ask every now and then if you were alright

-“you just make me nervous, hee” “don’t be nervous baby, it’s just me.”

-you didn’t realize how nice it felt to be loved within your comfort zone, and how nice it was to have someone hold your hand when it was pushed a little

-he’s gonna tease u tho sorry “loser virgin s/o and popular fboi boyfriend what wattpad story are we coming from”

-defends you to death if anyone criticizes the way you two date, he’s happy with you and if anyone tries to say otherwise he’s all up for arguing with them in a parking lot (￣▽￣)

-he loves you so so much and he dgaf about how slow he has to take it!!

-he takes you on lots of different dates to see what you like and what you don’t like, slowly initiates PDA to see if you’re okay w it or what freaks you out, he’s okay w taking the lead

-got him proud when you explain yourself tho, it means he’s doing a good job as your boyfriend if you’re comfortable explaining your boundaries and understanding them!! (in the least patronizing way possible)

-one time you two were making out and you put your hands on his chest, looking up at him and shaking your head, “I don’t think I want to continue yet.”

-and like a good boyfriend he is he reassured you he dgaf and that you two can just cuddle on the couch for the rest of the night or he could sit five feet away from you and not speak!!! whatever you say he listens bae

-never pushes you for affection, it pisses him off when people say the relationship is one sided, he doesn’t get insecure about whether or not you love him dw

-you say “I love you” every now and again later in your relationship to reassure him just in case tho, which is always super special to him and makes him fly over the moon *bawls eyes out*

-I did not mean for this to be this long ok anyways he’s yours and he knows it and your his and he knows that too <3

#enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen drabbles #enhypen headcanons #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung imagines

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dilatorywriting · 1 year

Text

Pity Party

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: 'I'm going to do it,' you thought triumphantly. 'I'm going to invite Malleus Draconia to the next Unbirthday Party as my date.' And naturally, the Universe in all its infinite omnipotence, went 'lol bet.'

A/N: A very fun commission for the lovely @toast-tales

“Heartslaybul is having another one of their Unbirthday Parties this Friday,” you said, a bit stilted but enthusiastic nevertheless. “And I was thinking—well, it was just a thought! But! Maybe it’d be nice if we, y’know, went together?” You finished, looking up from beneath your lashes at the looming figure before you.

The Gargoyle, naturally, did not respond. A sound rejection if ever there was one.

But! That attempt had sounded really good, hadn’t it? Totally natural and everything! Not a single stutter, fainting episode, or bought of nervous vomiting to be seen!

“Okay,” you muttered, pacing back and forth as you diligently fought the urge to ring your hands. “Okay, okay, okay. I can do this. It’s just, like, two sentences—Three? Was that three?—Doesn’t matter! Focus! It’s not that hard!”

You circled and circled around the alcove. It was a familiar little corner, for all that you’d only ever seen it in the dark of the evening. This was where you’d meet up with Malleus for your nighttime rendezvous. Normally you didn’t bother popping by for at least another hour, but you needed all the practice you could get. And while, yes, the stone carvings overhead were hardly the best conversational partners, it was easier to practice your totally smooth pickup skills on their emotionless faces than, like, Grim. Or God forbid, Ace and Deuce.

It was only Malleus, you reassured yourself yet again—your kindly, awkward, fey friend with the social awareness of a two-centuries-old potato. It was one thing to know, or at least assume, that he’d be sweet enough to take your offer in stride. It was another entirely to imagine the Briar Prince’s blank ass face saying something genuinely well-intentioned but harsh like ‘that doesn’t sound like a particularly riveting way to spend my afternoon,’ and immediately crushing your soul into itty bitty bite-sized pieces. It was an all too easy scene to picture, as you’d done at least a hundred times since your heart had set itself on its intentions.

You just—maybe just a bit more time. Yes. One more round of practice (perhaps two), and then you’d be ready. Like the Overblots, or whatever. Those hardly phased you at all anymore! It only took repetitive, mind rending, exposure therapy. That would do it. You just needed the teeniest bit more time to—

“Ah—Child of Man. I wasn’t expecting to see you here so earl—”

You jolted back with a truly heinous squawk and wheeled gracelessly into the stone pillar at your rear. You weren’t exactly a force of nature or anything, but the column hadn’t looked all that stable to begin with. So your frantic flailing took its toll, and the great, rock, beam creaked and fell. The Gargoyle perched atop it (the very one you’d been propositioning for the past half hour or so) crashed to the ground with an echoing BOOM and a cloud of debris fit to choke an elephant.

The poor thing lay in the dirt in pieces, its regal countenance split right down the middle. And Malleus Draconia, noted aficionado of all things carved from stone, looked two steps away from having an actual aneurism. So you hurriedly buried your invitation back in the depths of your brain and quickly went about carrying out the inanimate-object-equivalent of CPR.

“I think I have some super glue back in Ramshackle,” you offered. Even though you knew well enough that he could probably wave his hand and undo the entire thing. But it was the thought that counted, right?

“Supered Glue?” Malleus parroted, his neon eyes darting back and forth between you and the shattered gargoyle like you’d just offered him some mystical panacea. You nodded along and scuttled off in the direction of your dilapidated dorm.

‘Tomorrow,’ you promised yourself, as you rifled through your miscellaneous utilities drawer, tossing around rolls of tape and wads of too-thin elastic bands. ‘Tomorrow I’ll ask him.’

The next morning, you sat in Potion’s Class with the tacky remnants of last night’s nonsense dried along your fingertips. You sneezed and something ground unpleasantly behind your ear. You reached up to pluck a stray bit of gravel from your hair and flicked it aside.

Normally you tried to give Crewel’s lectures the entirety of your focus, primarily because you respected the man and wanted him to like you. And also, y’know, from the very rational standpoint of not wanting to lose your eyebrows or dignity when an incorrectly brewed potion exploded in your face. But today you were stuck in the clouds, replaying scenario after scenario and wondering what your next step in the whole ‘Ask The Crowned Prince of An Entire Nation Out to Lunch’ situation should be.

Your neck was itching again, and you scrubbed around mindlessly before pulling out another bit of gargoyle debris and tossing it. It bounced harmlessly off Jack’s shoulder.

“Did you get all that?” Your beastman friend asked, beginning the tedious process of organizing your group workstation for the day.

“Oh? Yes. Of course,” you nodded, not having heard a single word of what was going on. You grabbed your little instructions pamphlet for the day and made your way towards your own stool.

Jack turned and narrowed his yellow eyes at you in a way that clearly let you know that that superhuman schnoz of his had sniffed out your bullshit a mile away, but you generally had a better track record than the rest of the first years, so thankfully he let it slide.

Without further ado, you went about heating, and mixing, and tempering. And by the end, the pair of you had a lovely, silver, concoction that popped and fizzled like cola. Professor Crewel paused in his rounds of the rows to stare into your cauldron with an impassive sort of look that could have meant anything from ‘Content’ to ‘Outright Murder.’ Your eyes hastily flickered around the room, but everyone else’s potions looked liked Mercury Sprite too, so you couldn’t have been in too much trouble. You dipped the testing spoon into one of the bubbliest bits and brought it to your mouth to take a teeny sip. It tasted alright, and you smacked your lips as you tried to identify the flavor.

“Well?” The professor droned, crossing his arms over his chest in a fashion that looked entirely unimpressed. “How is it?”

You opened your mouth to reply and nothing came out but static. Literal static. Like you were some overloaded, old, plug—spitting sparks and whiny, high-pitched, nonsense that was most definitely an indication of some sort of fire risk.

Crewel hummed in that self-satisfied sort of way of his—the sort that was only mastered by those who were in the habit of being proven right during every, single, catastrophe.

“The Tickled Tongue recipe is fairly straightforward, you see,” he explained, stepping closer with a languid swishswish of his large overcoat. “It’s difficult to alter without any remarkable change or err. However,” he droned, “it is incredibly similar to the Stone Tongued Elixir. Do you know what the one, unique, ingredient in that brew is in comparison to our assigned project today, Prefect?”

You sighed fuzz.

“Stone,” he said, reaching out to pluck another bit of gravel from your hair.

Crewel brushed his hands against his vest and you debated if it’d be worth it to try jumping out of the window and escape while you still had at least some face.

“I’ve been kind enough to look the other way when you break curfew so that you may continue your… nightly excursions with a certain upperclassman,” he droned, and that open window was looking even more tempting. “But please at least give me the courtesy of cleaning up the evidence before attending my class in the mornings, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to say, but it just sounded like a busted landline.

“Hello, Child of Man,” Malleus beamed, his lips curling pleasantly at the corners. His usual trio were flanking his hind, all watching with varying degrees of interest that ranged from sharp curiosity (Lilia) to outright hostility (Sebek). “Would you care to accompany me for lunch?”

You opened your mouth and all that came out was the fucking AOL dial tone.

Lilia doubled over laughing and Malleus tilted his head at you like a dog listening to a whistle tone.

“Pardon?” He blinked.

“BZZZZZZ,” you said, miserable, and Lilia just laughed harder.

‘Two days left,’ you reminded yourself miserably. You had just under forty-eight wretched hours to not only complete your initial Date Objective, but also somehow do that whole thing while making up for the ego-crushing failures of your first two failures.

There was a Spelldrive match after classes today—another attempt for Leona to try and get one up on Malleus’s ‘Hall of Fame Worthy’ record before the pair of them aged out of the competition. And maybe that would be perfect! That was always sort of a Thing in teen movies, right? The big, heart wrenching, confession delivered on the field of whatever sport was in season. The fated couple lit all prettily beneath the glaring overhead lights and artfully drenched in a very timely shower of rain. This whole situation was practically writing itself.

So you tucked yourself into a warm, cozy, sweater fit for the breezy day and inevitable aesthetic downpour, and went to sit out in the stands. Which was your first mistake, because the match was being held on Savanaclaw’s practice field. So immediately you could feel sweat pooling along your lower back and along your brow as the magical, overhead, sunshine did its best to seer the flesh right off your bones. Malleus moved to step out onto the field and you went to wave at him enthusiastically, only to catch sight of the giant pit stains steeped into your stupid sweater. The dark spots opened up like the gaping maw on a beast, determined to derive its entire sustenance from your embarrassment alone. You clamped your arms back down to your sides and immediately began questioning the universe at large. Were you a murderer in a past life? Someone who scammed old ladies out of their pensions? What other reason could there be for the entire fucking cosmos to just perpetually go ‘hey, how about we make things worse.’

The game was probably going well or something, but you were swimming in so much swampy body heat at this point that you were starting to get dizzy.

With a sigh, you pulled the cute, wool, deathtrap over your head and tossed it aside—ruffling your sweat sticky hair for good measure to try and get some airflow going. It wasn’t the most dignified look or whatever, sitting there in only the thin cotton undershirt of your uniform and half drowned in your own secretions, but at least you weren’t in imminent danger of dying of heat stroke anymore. You leaned back on your elbows with another much more contented sigh and gave yourself a moment to let the last of that hot nausea settle.

“Oi! You horned bastard! Watch where you’re—”

There was a swirl of spitting green sparks and you looked back out onto the field just in time to get absolutely decimated by a Spelldrive disc to the face.

“He really didn’t mean it,” Lilia said, but he was laughing so hard into his fist that it was hard to make out anything beyond merry gurgling. “In fact, he’s really very upset about the whole thing.”

You stared blankly at the off-white walls of the infirmary, wondering how it was possible for one person’s luck to be this bad.

“Where is he?” you asked. Your tongue felt thick and sluggish.

“I don’t think he would appreciate me saying that he was off hiding—pouting, even,” the fey tutted, floating up to sit cross-legged at your eyelevel. “But I don’t believe there’s a much more accurate way of putting it.”

“Why would he be hiding?” you trudged forward again, mouth still entirely uncooperative. “I wanted to ask him something,” you admitted, chronically dejected and acutely brain damaged.

“Did you now?” Lilia grinned, something mischievous and far too knowing lighting his wine-red eyes.

You nodded. You could feel the tug of the bandages around your forehead.

“Well, I’ll ask that you be patient with him,” he sighed fondly, reaching out to pat your cheek. “For all his years, our Prince is still a bit stunted.”

“Oh, please! He’s six and a half feet tall!” you complained.

Lilia laughed again, doubling over in the air and doing a full roll about—like a pill bug.

“Oh, dear,” he snickered, wiping a tear from his eye as he straightened back out to lounge upside down by one of the rafters. “You do deserve each other.”

This was it. The final countdown. Friday.

The Unbirthday Party was this afternoon, and with God and the Heavens as your witness, you would be dragging Malleus Draconia there with you if it was the last thing you did.

‘The hardest part is supposed to be the rejection,’ you thought bitterly. ‘Not that crap leading up to it. This is bullshit. I want a refund.’

But no, if the Universe was going to be so cruel to you, then you were just going to have to be needlessly paranoid and prepared in advance. You set aside two spare sets of clothing and an umbrella. You packed an entire feast’s worth of provisions in case a fucking hole decided to open up in the ground or something and trap you in a cave for a week. You scribbled a little ‘Would you please go with me to the Unbirthday Party today’ on not one, or two, but three separate notes. Each in a different pocket. And laminated. And, perhaps most daring of all, you walked up to Ace and Deuce that morning with a stiff upper lip and an even stiffer spine.

“I’m going to ask Tsunotarou to come to the Unbirthday Party today,” you told them, fighting the urge to twist your hands into your jacket sleeves.

“What?” Ace choked, just as Deuce stepped in to clobber him over the back of the head and tell you very sweetly that he was sure that the House Warden would appreciate that very much.

“You must like him a lot,” your blue haired friend said, polite but clearly also at least a little unnerved.

“Yeah,” you sighed miserably, thinking of each and every horrible failure as the world at large fought your stupid affections at every turn. “I guess I do.”

So you went about your day like a soldier trudging through a warzone—always at the ready for something unknowable to fuck you over yet again. You looked twice around every corner, always let someone else walk through a doorway first, immediately spritzed Azul in the face with a spray bottle when he tried to start a conversation. It wasn’t paranoia when you knew the universe was out to get you.

The school day was coming to an end and so far you’d managed to avoid any catastrophes. When you caught sight Malleus off in the distance, you had to fight down the sudden swell of dueling panic and hope that blocked off your throat. You made eye contact with the fey prince from across the near empty corridor and he seemed to straighten. You took a deep breath and took one step forward, then another.

“Tsunotarou!” you called cheerfully. “I was wondering if you—”

“FIRE!” Crowley wailed, careening around the corner with all the urgency of someone who very much genuinely cared about the safety of their school and all its inhabitants. Which was outright ridiculous. His glowing, golden, eyes locked on you like you’d been the target of this caterwauling all along, and you wanted to scream. “Ah! My most darling and favorite of Prefects! You have to help! There’s a fire in—”

“No,” you snarled, like some great monster of old. And you watched the Headmaster pale beneath his bird mask. You reached out to pat his shoulder with a pleasantly threatening thump. thump. thump. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to sort it out on your own, sir. Have a lovely afternoon!”

And before you could chicken out, or something else could happen—like a tornado ripping the entire school up at its base and flinging you into Oz—you rushed forward and latched onto Malleus’s sleeve with a wide, panicked, sort of look in your eyes. Hisown eyes went round and wide, but he didn’t pull away, so step one complete.

“Please come to Heartslaybul’s Unbirthday Party with me!” You entreated. “As my date! With me! Together!” you word vomited, clutching at his sleeve even tighter.

“Oh,” Malleus breathed—those sharp, reptilian, pupils of his jumping into something soft and huge that swallowed the green of his irises in a sea of black. A pale, rose, pink crept along the tips of his pointed ears and you could feel your own cheeks blazing like a bonfire.

“Yup,” you nodded lamely, realizing you were still clutching his hand like a starving leper.

“Lilia had mentioned that you might…” he trailed off, gaze sliding to your fingers tangled beside his. “I hadn’t thought that—well…” He cleared his throat and stood to his full height with a puff that almost looked prideful. “Nevertheless,” he grinned, almost shy, and offered you his arm. “Shall we?”

You were going to die. Keel over. That would be the cosmos’s final strike against you. But though your heart beat like a rapid drum in your chest, you didn’t actually collapse in cardiac arrest. Your blood felt warm, but not with fever. It was… You’d actually done it!

You fought the urge to squeal and instead ducked excitedly against Malleus’s side with a secret little fist bump. His arm wound snuggly through yours and you were still too high on the thrill of victory to even consider being embarrassed about it.

“It may surprise you to know,” he said as you walked together towards the Queen of Heart’s Dormitory. “That I actually was attempting to ask something similar of you for this past week as well.”

“Really?” you gaped.

He nodded. “But it seemed as though fate itself was conspiring against me. The first evening went poorly, and then the next day you’d been cursed into silence. And you even ended up injured during one of my attempts.”

“The Spelldrive disc?” you blinked.

“Unfortunately,” Malleus sighed, leading you towards the familiar rose gardens. Which were lovely as always, and perfectly well painted for the afternoon’s festivities, and—

And… also on fire.

“Well what do you know…” you mumbled as you watched a furious Riddle chase a screeching Ace through the flaming fields. Trey had his head in his hands. Cater was filming the whole thing with an artful smear of ash drawn across his cheek.

Malleus made a low rumble of discontentment and you immediately swung the pair of you around to start heading back towards the Mirror Chamber.

“Not to worry!” you beamed, pointedly jostling the full picnic lunch in your bag. Sure, it hadn’t ended up being a gaping hole that had dragged you straight into the bowels of the abyss, but hey. Hellfire was hellfire. “I came prepared.”

“So did I,” Malleus smirked, the points of his canines peaking out of his lower lip. He twisted his fingers and the pair of you were surrounded in puffs of floating, sparkling, green lights.

And despite the Universe technically, yet again, having come out on top and flipped you and your date the proverbial middle finger, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be too upset at all.

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus x Yuu #My Writing #Commission #Pity Party

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