#this is long but ive been meaning to make it for Ages and i have. quite a bit to say
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how hard(?) would you say it is to translate? Ive been kinda curious about that, like does anything get lost in translation/ just not make that much sense without knowing the og language? or anything like that? 🤔
Hm, maybe 7 or 8 on a scale of 10? Though it can easily go higher at times, haha. (Always when Sung Hyunjae is in a scene because his name is a misspelling and it pisses me off.* This is a joke. Only half, though.) Basic word-by-word dictionary lookup is simple, which is why machine translators can do it well enough. But then you have to string all of it together in a sentence where you:
figure out and find a way to convey any difference in connotation between this specific chosen word and other words that mean the same thing (think the connotations of "regal" VS "royal" in English), and
do the same as above, but on a sentence-wide level translating the nuance of a particular grammar/sentence structure (thousand and one sentence endings in Korean, I swear -_-), and
make sure distinct character voices are retained or translated from the original Korean (think Song Taewon's stiff formality VS Han Yoojin's more casual speech VS Sung Hyunjae's middle-aged rich guy-type speech), and
make sure this sentence flows with the overall paragraph/chapter.
All those priorities have to be juggled throughout the chapter and add up to make it a fairly hard task. It definitely gets easier with practice once you're more familiar with the language (especially the nuance/connotation stuff), though, and I did get lucky in that my native language shares some aspects with Korean so the grammar is easier to intuitively grasp. Of course, I'm still learning, so I do have times I need to call in more experienced speakers for help.
(I definitely wouldn't say I'm good with the language period. Recently I've tentatively picked up a new novel—people following my personal blog will know which one—and it turns out I'm familiar with the way Geunseo talks and familiar with the vocabulary typical to dungeon fantasy novels, but kind of. Majorly hopeless when it comes to other stuff. The phrasing is juuust off enough that I keep getting tripped up and taking thrice as long to understand what's being said.)
There's definitely stuff that wouldn't make sense in English—certain idioms, cultural stuff, and all that, but that's why I try to localize wherever possible and add footnotes with relevant info/links if not. And there is stuff that gets lost in translation—you can look at the chapter titles from 302–307 for an example of that, where the joke is much more immediately obvious in Korean but had to be translated differently as chapter title VS in-chapter text messages and lost the clear parallel. I also remember being grumpy back during the virtual reality dungeon arc because Yoohyun would use 네놈 (ne-nom but typically pronounced ni-nom, a derogatory way to say "you", LMAO) towards Sigma and there was no concise way to get that across in English except having him be aggressive and direct. Especially since he isn't the type to swear by word of god, so I couldn't have him addressing him with "asshole" or "jerk" to convey it.
TL;DR: Fairly hard to translate, but gets easier with time, and there is stuff that's lost or difficult to understand, but I do what I can to make it understandable in English!
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* Sung Hyunjae uses "ae" at the end, but that implies it's 성현재, which is wrong—the correct spelling is 성현제, which should be "Sung Hyunje". (If you wanted to go the full Revised Romanization route, it'd be Seong Hyeonje, but I've weathered my share of name changes and that's a step too far even for me.) I've been meaning to make a poll about changing it like with the Lauchitas spelling, but I keep forgetting.
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how long have you been drawing for ? your art seems so confident (that seems mean but it’s a compliment i promise) like your strokes and stuff just seem so… educated? like you don’t need to sketch you already know what you want to do ?
my whole life!!!!! ive been drawing since i was a little childdddd like the second i could hold a pencil i was drawing! i got put into art classes very young as well cause i liked to draw so much. i started formal classes at like? 6/7 years old probably? and i did some form of either art class at school, out of school, or some combination from that age until i was an adult. So i've had a decent amount of formal training as a kid and have always just genuinely loved drawing so on top of that i was always drawing for fun too.
I think things really shifted for me when I was like?? 21/22 ish and i got very very into portraiture specifically- i really honed a lot of my skills in that department and honestly just became so obsessed with form. I would draw so much realism, tons of studies, i loved to work backwards- draw the shape/form of a thing first, usually in paint or marker, and then add the lines/details on top. i generally during this time also completely stopped working in any erasable mediums. i became and still am to this day a pens only artist, i cant stand to draw with a pencil.
Doing this gave me what i think is one of the best skills to have as an illustrator- a very confident stroke. Being able to attack a piece, not be afraid of the marks you make, working with what you have rather than fussing until you think it's perfect, made my work much more striking and made me a lot more comfortable with messing up and figuring out a way to fix it. or even start over.
i think generally heavily and meticulously sketching in pencil is what leads a lot of artists to tons of frustration. the linework never looks as good as the sketch, you sketched for hours and only now you realized something is off, takes forever to go back, etc etc etc. I find it to often be very demoralizing- so i always advise just to get as comfortable as you can with as few lines as possible. focusing on FORM and PROPORTION rather than the skeleton method or going over with tiny little pencil strokes. everyone has different methods that work best for them, but that was one thing i taught myself that really changed art for me!
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Keiki, a naturally magically altered mer from the fantasy world Aurea.
Age: Born in the 1600's
Personality: Playful, kind, very social and affectionate. He's quite impulsive and doesn't always think things through. He tries his best and wants to be helpful but is prone to clumsiness. Easily distracted.
Sizeshifter: Being magically altered, he's got the ability to change his size. He always tries to stay as small as possible, but he often ends up regrowing in spurts if he's startled, sleeping etc. On the sheet is his smallest size possible, compared to a 6ft person.
Background: Both of his parents died after swimming through a magic underwater current, trying to escape a giant predator. The then newborn Keiki survived but was magically altered and grew to a gigantic size. He then swam around in a bay, taking fish from fishing boats and terrifying the locals as they thought he was a large non-sapient sea creature. A bounty was put on him.
A crew of renowned hunters responded to the plea for help. After successfully bringing the baby to the surface they realized that he was just that; a baby. The crew took him in, hoping to come across a pod of merfolk to pass him on to. They ended up raising him anyways.
Other notes:
Communication: A syrinx allows him to communicate above and below water (underwater the air is circulated beteen the lungs, no air escapes unless he wants to). He chirps, whistles and clicks like other merfolk on Aurea. He's not able to produce human speech but he tries to mimic certain sounds with mixed result. He's also very expressive and good at communicating with gestures.
Magically altered: Due to being magically altered, his own magic is prone to become unstable. It gets worse in cycles, if he doesn't actively stabilize it himself it'll worsen until the point he gets sick. At that point his body regulates the magic on it's own but it takes longer. He'll then be unable to use his sizeshifting ability and will be stuck at his actual size until his body is done stabilizing itself.
Diet: He eats a wide variety of sea creatures, sea greens, and fruits from Titanik (a continent where everything is large). He's also able to digest magic and it's the most important part of his diet as it gives him more energy compared to everything else. Keiki can live off of magic alone if needed, but he enjoys "solids" more.
#Muppen draws#oc Keiki#oc reference sheet#g/t#giant merman#cw death mention#I'm not used to making reference sheets so I'm open for suggestions#The first one out of many!!#Ive been meaning to do them for a long time now#I tried to keep it tldr. xD;;;#Just general info :D#Keiki's gonna get really old#And I like to jump around in his timeline so yep.#Not “locking” him in a certain time or age.#I will use finished art for these if I have because... why do twice the work? :o
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On Transfem Chihiro
Over the years running this blog, one of the most consistent asks I've received is regarding whether or not my inclusion of Chihiro as a girl is correct or not. I've been told that it's deeply meaningful for some people. I've been told that I'm an idiot and it's the biggest problem with my blog by others. So now, as I'm finally building out an FAQ, it seems like a good time to lay out my reasons for including Chihiro on this blog and how it personally connects to me.
Chihiro gender discourse has been around since Trigger Happy Havoc was initially released and translated. There's nothing I can say about this that hasn't already been said somewhere; as such, I ask everyone to have patience as I say things that have probably been said by 50 other people before. I know. They're right. Good for them.
However, I will not be fielding conversations about this. I am not setting out to argue with people; I am explaining the reasoning behind a blog policy. (This will also briefly discuss transmasc Chihiro headcanons, for purposes of thoroughness.)
This post will consist of three lists: a list of reasons why people generally headcanon Chihiro as trans; a list of reasons why they specifically headcanon Chihiro as transfem vs transmasc; and a brief refutation of popular reasons why people insist trans Chihiro is a bad headcanon.
For our purposes, I will be using they/them for Chihiro throughout this post; this is not in any way a commentary on which Chihiro pronouns are 'correct' or better, but a gender neutral convenience. Apologies for the really long paragraphs. I just like hearing myself talk.
Reasons People Headcanon Chihiro as Trans
Chihiro presents as one gender, but is "secretly" another. This is fairly obvious, and also the crux of the whole thing. Anything from here has a certain degree of reading between the lines, but this is explicitly canon. Where the discourse stems from is the reason Chihiro presents as a different gender, but it is an inarguable fact that they do present as a different gender - and obviously, that lends itself to a trans interpretation.
The secondhand retelling of Chihiro's story. Chihiro's portrayal as 'a boy who adopts girly traits' is never once stated from Chihiro's own mouth. The primary account of it comes from Monokuma, who is perhaps one of the least reliable narrators in Danganronpa, and who in the very same scene presents Mondo's survivors guilt as Mondo "murdering his brother," and should obviously be taken with a HUGE grain of salt. The only time when we see Chihiro come firsthand is in the School Mode alternate universe - in which the exact conversation is not explicitly lain out, but instead brushed over by Makoto's summary (after Chihiro briefly explains that their body is different from how they've been presenting). As such, the "canon" of Chihiro's gender is in fact very fluid, and as it's so deeply connected to gender and presenting differently from their assigned gender, there is an obvious thread to trans identities. The only definitive knowledge is that Chihiro has, when alive, gone by she/her and presented as a girl.
Real-world transphobic connections to Chihiro's death. The "trans panic" defense is a legal strategy that attempts to excuse murder of trans people under the justification that the murderer was shocked and/or disturbed by the victim's gender; in most famous examples, the assaulter is described as 'blacking out' and doing it in a 'fit of rage.' This has an obvious connection to the way Mondo reacts when Chihiro tells him about their secret, as he says he "felt something break", and who explicitly states he blacked out before murdering Chihiro and came to with them on the floor, covered in blood. In addition, historical trans people have often only been outed after death, and have then posthumously been treated differently from their actual gender despite living as that gender all of their lives. This is similar to the invasive way that Kyoko reveals Chihiro's secret after their death, and the way that the entire cast immediately starts treating them as a boy.(Disclaimer: this is not an argument that any THH characters are transphobic; rather, it is an argument that real world transphobia was used by the THH writers to emphasize Chihiro's gender.)
Gender roles. This is briefly addressed before, but Chihiro's preoccupation is never presented as being with 'boys vs girls' (except by Monokuma, who, again, Grain Of Salt); it is presented as being 'strong vs weak.' Chihiro never says 'I want to be strong like a man,' just 'I want to get stronger.' There is an argument to be made that Chihiro's internalized toxic masculinity plays a part in their inability to recognize they identify as a girl because they are a girl, rather than out of 'weakness'; there is an argument that Chihiro's desire to become strong actually plays into internalized masculinity in that they conflate 'I'm actually a trans boy' and 'boys are stronger than girls.' Either way, there is no reading of Chihiro's perspective on gendered strength that is truly disconnected from transness.
Conclusion: There are many reasons that Chihiro can be interpreted as a trans character which do not contradict canon, and, in fact, it is an extremely likely reading of the character for people who are closely connected to transness in the real world.
So, Transfem or Transmasc?
The reason people often headcanon Chihiro as transfem (AKA a trans woman, or MTF in old-timey terms) is because this aligns most closely with Chihiro's actual presentation in the games. Chihiro goes by she/her when they are alive; they are visibly feminine, including in ways that only possibly be intentionally done to emphasize their femininity, such as posture; it is indicated several times that they have a flat chest and a penis. Additionally, a very large number of trans women really enjoy computer coding, which was definitely not intended but does lend itself to the interpretation.
The reason people often headcanon Chihiro as transmasc (AKA a trans man, or FTM in old-timey terms) is because of the way others treat Chihiro in the games. It can be difficult and even triggering for people to see Chihiro's friends, including ostensibly good people, actively calling a trans girl "he/him" and a "boy"; as such, the easiest way to remove this issue is by interpreting Chihiro, not as a trans girl who comes out as having been a trans the whole time, but as a trans boy who still isn't out to their friends (and potentially hasn't even realized they're trans yet themselves).
These interpretations are both perfectly valid. Neither of them are actively transphobic. They conflict with each other solely in that it isn't possible for both to be canon at the same time. However, many people who believe strongly in one side can feel uncomfortable or even be directly triggered by the other, due to the perception of "misgendering" a comfort character and the feeling that their own interpretation of the character is being disrespected. As such, it is perfectly normal to see both sides avoiding each other.
This blog puts forth the perspective of transfem Chihiro because it is what the blog owner most closely identifies with, and it is more popular in the fandom. This is not a commentary on transmasc Chihiro headcanons! If transfem Chihiro bothers anyone, this blog is carefully tagged, and will happily add more tags at request. However, I will not be fielding discussions about it.
Common Arguments Against
Now, if you've kept up so far, you may still have some common arguments to bring up. Here's some responses to save you from heading into my inbox!
Actually, Chihiro is a commentary on a specific gendered trope in Japanese media!: This is like saying that because drag queens exist in the USA, headcanoning any American character as transgender is disrespectful to them. Japan has a number of trans people who face discrimination every day in a country that has no anti-LGBT discrimination laws and has had regular reports from the Human Rights Watch over the years that are increasingly worrying. My gender and sexuality studies have largely been Western, and I do not claim to have thorough knowledge of Japanese relations to gender; however, acting as though Japanese people cannot be trans is both racist and reductive.
But Chihiro says "I'm a boy!": The context in which Chihiro says "I'm actually a boy" is, 100% of the time, with no exceptions, when they are coming out as trans. For a transmasc reading, this is fairly obviously connected; for the more popular transfem reading, as a teenager in Japan, Chihiro likely does not have in depth knowledge of transness or LGBT terminology. It is very likely Chihiro has no words to describe their experience except "I'm a boy, but I want to be a girl" or "I want to be a boy but I'm not." This is a well-documented phenomenon among real world trans youth, too - people often use language that people in the community consider offensive simply because they have no other words to describe their experience. That does not make the experience less valid.
But the Danganronpa writers have said Chihiro's a boy!: 1. Look up 'Death of the Author.' 2. The writers also have not said that Kyoko and Makoto are dating, but this is near universally agreed on amongst friends as the most 'canonical' interpretation. That's what headcanons are.
I just don't like it! It just makes me mad!: You're transphobic. Consider why it bothers you so much that people want a character to be trans. Is there a valid logical reason? If not, why is this your instinct? Is it a good instinct? Is it possible you are hurting people around you by blindly acting on it?
In Conclusion
This is my official, catch-all, "Chihiro is on this blog and you can't do anything about it" post. My current policy is that every time I receive in ask against trans Chihiro in my inbox, I add a post that is specifically about Chihiro being trans to the queue. I will keep doing that. And I will @ you. With a smiley face. I will not respond in any other way. ✌️
#chihiro fujisaki#trans chihiro#faq#this is long but ive been meaning to make it for Ages and i have. quite a bit to say#with this done hopefully i'll have the faq up within the next couple days too!
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H&M has been SO ugly for the past like 9 months. I don't buy new clothes, but I like to check out what's out and it's rough.
I hate the Y2K fashion that's out mostly and I hate the 70s revival, but going back to minimalist fashion is like, boring, because that was 8 years ago already
#totes bro#by i dont buy new i mean i dont buy new clothes only used i definitely go to goodwill#i like 70s fashion but i dont like the revival#honestly we've been in a fashion dark ages since tictok#like its so unbelievably ugly all my gen z friends..... questionable#i wear mens clothes btw that im even giving these opinions is kinda funny#ive branches out to womens clothes but ive been making them because unfortunately#i love long skirts like i always wanted to wear long skirts and now I do maybe i look like a Mennonite but who cares#i have to make all my long skirts but like if my hobby is sewing i gotta do something#i opened this again to say maybe h&m is minimalist because it caters to a different demographic vs shien?#im a big sweater person and they have a few sweaters that are pretty and kinda more unique colors#however I dont have money and h&m sweaters either are great and i love them forever or trash#i have thermo regulation problems so i wear flannel then wool sweater then cardigan to work every day stacked#with wool gloves. today i checked the thermostat because i spent all day shivering#i wear scarves too. i tend not to wear hats because its not business casual but i have 1 wool beanie from a customer of ours#that i will put on because if its from a customer and has their branding then its appropriate right? its originally like $60#i dont know why they have those and why we got sent 2 for free#i get first dibs on swag because i go in to work early and my boss thinks because i designed the products for the customer#i have like the most special relationship with the customer#its 3am and i cant sleep
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age 0-18 is like i need to be older than i am now. i need to grow up so i can finally live my life. and age 19-21 is like ok i’m finally an adult but i don’t feel like it at all lol so..what am i supposed to do with my life ? and 22 and beyond is just feeling so old like you wasted your entire life and can’t relate to anyone and there’s nothing you can do about it at all
#i know im straight up wasting my life whatever that means and i literally cant remember the last 7 years because i did nothing#everything feels too late to start and i just feel like an idiot i feel like a literal baby whos never done anything ever before in the body#of like a 40 year old mother i have absolutely no concept of who i am or what is going on and i literally feel so old i want to kill myself#literally i see people my age and by see people i mean watch youtubers and im like ok theyre still young and then i think about myself and#im like lmao u are so old and u have no idea what is going on like i cant take much more of this. i think it's mostly because i spent my#whole life trying to be older because i was just never the right age for anything i always needed to be older for everything#and now i am and i missed my opportunities for everything i wanted to do and now im realizing i never took advantage of being young#and whatever midlife crisis i know but i just feel so out of it lately like im not even here and i just wasted my whole life and that's that#and yes midlife crisis not quarter life crisis because im not living much longer bc if i feel this way in my 20s i wont make it to#my late 30s#i just ! feel like i missed the part of my life where i do something good and can feel stable and like ok. ive lived some life and done this#and this and this and it's like no i havent. ive just been waiting for something to happen that's never going to happen and i dont even know#what the something i would be waiting for is but ive been waiting and nothing happens unless you do it yourself and i just waited too#long to figure that out and now im just a failure through and through#literally just dead weight floating around the universe
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#girl its great that theres a renewed interest in ql!! really!! its a great show and im glad people are getting into it/getting back into it#but my god some of these yahoos make me yearn for the days when it was just the same five people passing posts back and forth to each other#it was so chill people could disagree but it was in a chill civilized way#now? everyone has to have an opinion on everything and you have to publicly love or hate (no inbetween) every single thing#and jfc if its '''''''''not your quantum leap'''''''''' then just shut up and get the fuck out of the tag#im not afraid to block a bitch so anyone not behaving (aka acting like a grown ass adult) will get blocked this is a threat#sorry for going off its just been so long since ive had to deal with fandom drama#i mean ive seen it in wwd*ts and iw*v (where someone was complaining that they aged up one of the characters bc#'''what's the point of eternal youth if you're not young?'''#girl the character is like 30 now idk how to tell you this but 30 is still young!!!#almost threw hands then and there#but like im not IN in any of those fandoms not the way i am with ql#i hope its not gonna be like this moving forward#almost makes me wish the next couple eps are bad if only to weed out the jokers
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AWFUL when u feel like all ur freind groups r falling apart. even worse when u can tell the seasonal depression is going to be awful this year so u prob not gonna have enough energy to do anything abt it
#its weird bc like. i feel like the individual freindships ihave w ppl r like doing good or okay at least rn#but a lot of those friendships also made up like. groups nad stuff which arennt rly a thing at all anymore and i rly miss that a lot#idk. it just kinda rly sucks i feel like everyones drifiting apart#also i say season depression i dont mean that at all its just the thing to say when ur sad in autumn/winter#like objectivly the thing thats making me miserable is more likley to be that iv been living in an enviromanent that have been slowly#suffocating me for so long and i have wanted to escape for years and now that im An Adult and Technically Can i have to confront how hard#thats gonna be and how living on own is probably also going to slowly kill me becuase itll be so difficult to afford anything so im#basically trapped and my life is already over at age 18 and all of that overwhelming and catching up on me#than like. it being bc the sun is up for slightly less oh nooo#but thats more hashtag relatable ig !! idk.#sorry im j so suddenly sad always lol. but ig i cant help it#flappy rambles#vent
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i need to go to bed but i dont wannnaaaaa
#the bin#i work at 7am and its 1:23 am i have GOT to go to bad but ugh. if i go to bed then that means ill have to go to work as sokn as im conscious#so the longer i stay up the more time i have. but km gonna be so tired at work. hhhhh.#i dont know why but ive felt so horrible today. super anxious. miserable and really sad#im trying to just deal with it. soon enough things are gonna change. its only 34 days till my planned moving date. i will only bave like 20#more shifts at this job. maybe less depending on what i get given. including tomorrows shift. and tomorrows shift is only 5 hours long#and the day after its only 4 hours and then i have 2 more days off. itll be ok. but i still feel so anxious and depressed and awful#i just wanna stay home and be high all the time. i feel so lonely always. literally the only thing that helps me not feel completely crushed#and paralyzed by how lonely i am is getting high. i know its not healthy to rely on getting high to feel better about stuff but idk what#else to do so who cares. when i dont do anything about it i i stead end up relapsing or worse so i think its an ok option#i hope i can meet nice people this year. year after year it doesnt happen but so much has changed!#it makes sense i havent met people since i moved out. and everything is so different from wwhen i last lived with them#all my siblings are in school. they have people over at the hair a fair bit afaik. my dad wont be there to me make feel awful. my sister#also wont be there to me me feel awful. i can figure something out. itll be ok. it has to be.#i just want to squeeze someone. i just want like. a hug. a good cuddle. and i need to talk to someone. its been so long since u had an actul#fun time hanging out with another person. i need to watch a movie with someone and joke around and. ugh.#how did my life reach this point? what happened that resulted in me spending ages 10-19 all alone. im not even 19 yet but i will be soon#and theres not a chance ill meet someone before then esp bc im moving. when i was little i didnt have mych friends but i had some#i had such high hopes for the future. i also thought the future would be terrible but i imagined id still have friends and peopwl to talk to#all ive wanted sincei was 10 is just to have people to talk to and hangout with. but i dont have a single friend. i can hardky name anyone#besides my family and coworkers. and like aa couple of my sisters friends. there isnt even like people i know who i dont really consider#friends but we talk sometimes. if i dont go to work. call my mom. or tex a sibling. i dont see or talk to anyone period#i guess unless i go to the store. that doenst really count tho.#i want to have a friends group. i want to have A friends. just like. a person. to interact with. what happened that made mw spend the past#8 years just not interacting with anyone? whats wrong with me.#its fine tho. becausebit will change. i acan heal from this and i can meet people. even if half my conscious life has been spent all alone#it will get better. it has to.
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Tired and feel stinky but I gotta finish this owed sketch and I took a fuckn shower earlier today so I shouldn't actually be gross. What the fuck. ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️
#ventings#very light vent but wauteverrrr#ive been dickingarouunnnd meaning to have finished htis sketch ages ago i just want it dooneeeee#ITS AN ANIMATION THATS WHY ITS TAKING SO LONG AND ITS MAKING ME NOT WANNA DO IT
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Found a new song with 41 views and I'm 75% sure theyre literally all from me so my day is going swag 👍
#rat rambles#in all seriousness tho today has been pretty sick even if I had to sit in a car for like 3 hours of it#also the new song has me thinking abt daisy its so himcore#Ive been in a big mean 14 yr old trio mood lately#they are all so important actually#also now that I have an actual functional animation program Im gonna have to remake my animation meme to do playlist again#I wanna be realistic this time so no amv memes until Im more confident fhdkhdhd#I was abt to be like feel frew to give me animation meme recs but then I remembered the chances of anyone here knowing Any is slim dhdkhdj#Im always on the hunt for more animation memes like again this is the big boy shit thats been a part of my day to day life for years#probably like 6 or 7 years at this point maybe even 8#I also need to hunt for more animators to follow I love following small animators they are so important actually#dude the way I could gush abt the animators I follow for ages like god#like my temptation to just make a long post linking like 100 different animation memes I adore is so strong yall have no idea
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farming sim blogs i am begging
#stardust speaking !#muffy my no1 wife.............i want her n akira to talk about love cuz 1)cityfolks 2) akira is SO quick to mention those topics and its SO#funny but im also like. its been SO long since i had a muse who was that :] about romance. like the only clear memory. is mimi#and that was AGES ago#3) my personal akira relations hcs#me fighting the one vday line where akira speaks of their vday experience (basically none)#when i say fighting i mean fighting in making it work around it#the entire thing feels so weird like ive been gran no1 for SO many yrs. to write someone who doesnt have a issues regarding relations(hips)#is SO strange....#ive said this before havent i
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“ THE MOVIE'S NOT THAT SCARY ”
bigbro!choso x fem!reader ღ MDNI.
❥ summary. you and yuji itadori have been best friends since middle school. you often came over for movie nights with him and his big brother. little does yuji know about the things you and his big bro have been up to.
❥ warnings. nsfw, female anatomy, slight age gap, doing stuff under the covers next to yuji, etc.
❥ a/n. i've been thinking of this scenario for a while. was super fun to write about, ive become a choso girlie in recent times :)
❥ wc. 2.3k
"Yo, you still on for movie night?" A voice calls out from behind you.
You turn around and see that it's Yuji, your best friend. You adjust the bag strap on your shoulder and smile at the familiar face.
"Yes, of course!" You replied enthusiastically.
Yuji has been your friend all the way back from middle school. You transferred as a new student and he was the first person to introduce himself. You guys quickly became close friends because of his kind and extroverted demeanor.
Yuji had an ongoing tradition with you where you guys would have movie nights on Fridays. It was mostly held at his house since he had the bigger TV. Throughout middle and high school you guys would excitedly choose a movie and watch it after a long week of school, wrapping up the week in a fun celebration.
Sometime in your senior year of high school, some things changed in Yuji's household. His older half-brother, Choso, moved into the house with Yuji. You could remember the day like it was yesterday, the first time you laid eyes on the pale man.
He was around 7 years older than you from what Yuji told you. Already long graduated college before you even started. You felt something inside you spark when you first saw him, you weren't really sure what it was though. It could've been his stoic face or perhaps how he towered over you in height. But something made you feel giddy whenever you were around him.
Choso began to join in on movie nights, around the time you were 19. Calmly resting on one side of you, with Yuji engulfed in the movie on the other side of the couch. Yuji was always too immersed into the movie to notice how you and Choso would share glances at each other every now and then. It even flew right over his head when you started to wear skimpier outfits when coming over as well. How your oversized t-shirts and sweats turned into tight lacy-tank tops and booty shorts that accentuated your ass just right. I mean, it wasn't his fault because Yuji never saw you in that way.
Oh, but Choso did. He noticed how exchanging glances turned into you nudging your hand against his, or how you playfully rubbed your foot against his leg. How your clothes became increasingly revealing every week or how you would cling to him at the scary part of a movie.
Choso was experienced, he could tell how hard you were trying to get his attention. He found it extremely adorable at your attempts to flirt with him. He would often let out a quiet chuckle or make clever remarks that would make you get butterflies in your tummy.
It wasn't long before you and Choso started to mess around. How Yuji never noticed how you two would disappear halfway into the movie for an hour, was beyond you. It was a common occurrence for you to tease Choso under the blanket too much, making him excuse himself that he had to lay down in his room from a 'headache'. He would then shoot you a glare and squeeze hard onto your thigh, signaling to you that you better follow. You would then excuse yourself a couple of minutes later so that you could use the bathroom.
Really you were headed to Choso's room, where he would bury his cock into you until you begged him for mercy. Your body spasming from his ruthless pounding, covered in sweat. After he felt like you received the correct punishment for whatever you did that pissed him off, he would quickly clean up to join back with Yuji. You would follow him, the stench of sex still all over you. But, Yuji never seemed to notice.
That still applied to your current situation. You were sitting in between the boys, blanket on your lap as it extended to Choso's. Yuji didn't use a blanket, he just had his favorite pillow on his lap. Tonight Choso recommended that you guys watch a horror film. Yuji put on the original 'Scream' excitedly, since he enjoyed cheesy horror flicks.
A little into the movie Yuji had already become absorbed into the plot, not paying any mind to the two of you. That was when you felt Choso's arm move behind you. You believed it to be him just putting his arm around your shoulder so you leaned into him. That was when you stifled a gasp from exiting your mouth as you felt his warm fingers pull at your shorts.
You look up at him, holding back a whimper as he snaked his hand through the back of your shorts. His fingers found their way to your panties, skillfully parting it out of the way. He used his middle finger to gently rub against your clit, hoping to get you wet. It worked as you easily became soaked from his touch.
He smirked and kept his eyes on the TV, moving one of his digits along your slit. You squeezed your legs together from the warm sensation and leaned into Choso's shoulder. You fought back a moan by gripping onto his sleeve.
Choso then plunges his slender and long middle finger into your soft cunt. He gave out a muffled groan disguised as him clearing his throat as he felt himself become hard from the sensation alone. Something about how your pussy sucked in his finger made him want to fuck you right then and there. Unfortunately, it wasn't possible at this very moment.
Feeling how your pussy squeezed his finger and legs quivered from his touch made him add another finger. It made you gasp, feeling him slowly insert his ring finger inside of you, gasp audibly enough for Yuji to pick up on it.
"Hah, looks like you still find horror movies scary." Yuji said teasingly, looking over briefly. He turned to face the TV, still being clueless as to what was going on.
You gave out a nervous giggle in response and moved to look back at the TV, trying not to break the act.
However, Choso would not let up as he started to move his fingers inside of you. You squeezed your thighs together as he finger-fucked your little hole. His fingers began to grind against your walls as he curled them to hit your sweet spot. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he hit that spot relentlessly, trying to get you to make more noise.
Choso loved to humiliate you, so he worked his damned hardest to get you to let out your sweet moans. He knew Yuji was too stupid to catch on, he just simply wanted you to feel embarrassed.
That was when he quickened the pace, your wetness starting to cover his fingers in slick. A familiar wet slapping sound began to seep from beneath the blanket, as he moved his fingers aggressively into your needy cunt. You quickly glanced at Yuji, knowing for certain he could hear that.
"Damn, the sound effects in this movie are pretty realistic." Yuji said as he shoveled popcorn into his mouth.
You become hot in the face knowing your lewd little cunt was making sounds loud enough that Yuji could hear it.
"Yeah, I guess they know what it sounds like to rearrange someone's guts." Choso said with a smirk. His voice was nonchalant, but you knew it was his sadistic way of poking fun at you.
You suck in air through your teeth annoyedly, closing your eyes, trying to relax as best as you could.
Unfortunately for you, Choso would give you no moment of reprieve as he timed his fingers curling and stroking your sweet spot along with the biggest jumpscare of the movie.
You let out a shocked moan, gripping onto Choso's bicep harder. You hid your face in Choso's chest in embarrassment, trying to slink away from Yuji as much as possible.
"Woah, calm down. The movie's not that scary." Yuji was surprised by your sudden reaction. He looked at how you clutched onto his big brother for safety and just smiled. He was glad you at least could find relief in Choso. Unbeknownst to him, you were fighting for your life not to spasm uncontrollably and cum all over Choso's fingers. Yuji returned his attention to the movie.
Choso was now painfully hard under the blanket, his erection going untouched for quite some time now. He hissed, feeling himself become constrained in his boxers. The pace at which he was moving his fingers started to slow down as he readjusted himself next to you. He moved his legs so that they were spread out beneath the blanket.
You could tell that meant he was hard and you looked up at him to see what he wanted next. Your eyes were met with his normal, expressionless gaze. The light from the TV perfectly illuminated his face to where he looked almost intimidating. He then bent down enough to where he could whisper into your ear.
"I want to fuck your throat." His breath was hot against your ear.
You looked at him, trying to see if he was being serious. He was. He guided you with his left hand to feel how stiff his cock was. You gulped and looked down at his lap, gently rubbing against his erection. He let out a low groan and leaned back against the couch, still keeping his fingers inside you.
You look at Yuji real quick and wait for something scary to happen again in the movie. As soon as you heard a woman shriek on the TV, you quickly hid under the blanket, resting your head on Choso's lap.
You could hear Yuji's muffled laughing from beneath the cover, him buying into your act that you were hiding from the movie.
You then watched as Choso took his left hand to free himself from his sweatpants and underwear, his dick was flushed at the tip and throbbing. You took a deep breath and inched closer toward it, licking lightly on his tip. You could taste the salty precum start to cover your tongue as well as how his abs flexed from your touch. You slowly took him into your mouth, letting your saliva coat his cock. You could tell he was getting annoyed from how slow you were moving because he bucked his pelvis into your face, catching you off guard. You choked a little but quickly caught up to the pace he wanted.
Feeling your slutty throat engulf his cock from under the blanket made him go feral. He went back to fucking your cunt with his fingers. He almost let out a guttural moan from the sensation of your two holes tightening around him. Instead, he just held his mouth and chin with his hand to muffle his sounds. He feigned a bored look on his face, almost as if he was falling asleep, but really he was occupied with how amazing your mouth felt.
His thrusts into your pussy matched the pace that you swallowed him, he was entranced trying to help the both of you cum together.
You too, became absorbed in the moment. Forgetting that outside of the blanket was innocent Yuji, who knew nothing of what was going on. You were caught up in sliding your tongue skillfully along Choso's length and feeling how your throat molded to the shape of his cock.
Choso could feel your saliva start to drip down into his boxers and the feeling was so lewd that his body tensed up. He began to struggle holding in his sounds and jittery movements, he knew he needed to finish or he'd lose it.
His fingers curled against your sensitive spot again, this time he mixed it with quick thrusts, making you moan around his cock. The sound was luckily unheard because the movie was playing loud music. The moan caused vibrations in your throat, which made Choso's eyes dart to the back of his skull. He was so fucking close to busting down your throat, he could feel it coming.
He added a third finger into your sopping wet cunt and continued to massage the spot that he knew so well. This was the final straw for you as you felt your orgasm crash down in waves. Your pussy clenched around his fingers as you came, your legs spasming uncontrollably and your toes curled.
He also reached ecstasy after feeling you squeeze him. He thrusted into your mouth and came as far down your throat as he possibly could. You could feel his hot, thick load spurt into your throat as you struggled to swallow.
After both of you regaining composure and calming your breathing Choso slowly withdrew his fingers from your tired cunt as well as you cleaning him off gently with your mouth. He tucked himself back into his sweats and you took that as a sign to come out of the blanket for some fresh air.
You came out, lights from the TV blinding you temporarily. As your vision adjusted you can see Yuji looking down at you.
"Aw, you missed the ending of the movie." He said slightly disappointed. He took note of your disheveled appearance, hair all tangled and mascara slighting ruined. "You must've been really scared, huh?" He asked worried about you.
"Ah, yeah I should've warned you that I don't handle horror movies that well." You said nervously, trying to comb your hair with your fingers.
"It's alright, I just hope you won't have any nightmares tonight!" Yuji said as he stood up, starting to clear the dishes off the coffee table.
"Don't worry lil bro, I don't think she's getting that much sleep tonight anyways." Choso said with a wide smirk. He winked at you and slid his slick covered fingers into his mouth to taste it.
You watched as he savored your flavor on his tongue, his eyes not moving off of yours.
You guessed you were probably sleeping over tonight.
#female reader#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#choso smut#choso kamo#choso x reader#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen choso
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Reputation, Or Whatever That Is
IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 12 - Jang Wonyoung
IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader Smut
7,063 words
Categories | daddy kink, brat!Wonyoung, squirting, blowjob, please appreciate Wonyoung's power bottom capabilities
Sorry, Yena is coming out sometime but I wanted to finally write something timely. JANG WONYOUNG WHAT THE FUCKKKKK.
Please bear with the religious metaphors, I have Catholic guilt and Wonyoung reignites it. I'm not sorry for all the other fucked up shit here I'm just ooga boogaing because what the FUCK
It’s a little brighter today than usual. The sun surely knows what's about to happen upon its rising. It has no plans of telling you beforehand, so you’re forced to find out yourself.
You open Instagram, which is insane because you never bother to look at pictures—much less edited, filtered ones made for meaningless impressions. Your blissful ignorance of online concepts is what would make your fans hate you if they had space in their deluded hearts to. Or maybe that’s your age talking.
But today, clicking on that app is what you do, and that already should have been a sign that something’s not right. The usual run of your universe has gone off course. Who could have made that so?
Coffee. The black stillness that’s pure of sweetness and sugar. That’s supposed to keep everything normal. You sip on it as you scroll through clickbait, fan accounts, edits—
Then you wish you never took that hot gulp at all.
Wonyoung.
It’s all because of her.
She stands there from behind your screen, silky hair tangled in those lithe long fingers. She’s looking at the camera like she wants whoever took the time to click on her profile to come over and fuck her right now. Man or woman, poor or rich—it doesn’t matter. What ought to matter though is the fact that she doesn’t have someone’s hands slipped around her waist and pulling her close.
You shouldn’t even be thinking about it.
Usually, she’s dressed in knitted pink coats and miniskirts; looking fashionable but modest, modest but unplain. That’s what everyone loves about Jang Wonyoung: she’s prim, sweet, and the daughter of the nation.
Now, she’s the ideal girl to take right home and have your wicked way with. Yes, you’d feel guilty since she’s so young, just the little age of nineteen. Still, that doesn’t mean you’d have any regrets. She’s the kind of girl you can’t get away from. You’ll always come back for more.
You’d hate to be so upfront, but there’s no other way to interpret it.
There’s that fucking denim bra hugging her tiny chest, stitched up so high that her abs are on full display. That little pinch of a waist curves so perfectly right up to her wide hips that invite and invite and invite—
Remember to exhale.
So, yeah. That’s how Wonyoung ruined your day, and you barely had your morning coffee.
A text message from your boss appears. You nearly miss it because of how you’re staring all ogle-eyed at the tempting girl on your screen. Before you even click it, you already know what you ought to do.
hey, it reads, you need to—
-
—go to Wonyoung, and for such a scandalous photo, she’s chosen a remote but classy hotel only the biggest stars know of to shoot it.
There’s no going back when you drive like you’re running from the law when you’ll break one if you pull the wrong stunt with her. Your throat’s coiled with an unreleased breath that won’t go away unless you see her. It’s like traveling with the promise of meeting a goddess, and although you’re not religious anymore, you wear very, very close to rediscovering faith.
The hotel is grand—clear marble floors and shining chandeliers—and it’s no surprise. Wonyoung wouldn’t have things any other way. You know that when she’s come to your office to complain about her outfits and brands.
You go up to the desk with prepared evidence for what you’re going to say. “I’m an associate of your client miss Jang Wonyoung,” you say to the lady tapping away behind her computer, “and I’ve come to visit her.”
Associate? It’s more like mentor. You’re a veteran idol whose efforts inspire the rookies, therefore getting you the responsibility of looking out for Wonyoung. So, father figure, maybe? You wince at that.
She makes a polite sad look, still not removing her eyes from the screen. “I’m sorry, miss Jang doesn’t have—”
Slide your ID card on the counter.
She glances at it, stiffens, then looks up at you. There’s only one of you in the entire South Korea, and although the 1x1 traces back to when you were a bit more youthful, it’s not hard to put two and two together.
She apologizes quickly and offers you an elevator ride exclusive for VVIPs. Smile. It’s been a while since your last return to music, but everyone knows you here. Everyone knows your power.
Wonyoung’s place is the first room on the twelfth floor, a flinching irony.
Knock. You rap your knuckles three times for good luck and charm, because you’ll need it with her. Jang Wonyoung is everything save an easy girl. You remember the many times she refused to give up a debate on how she’s managed, how she’s styled, how she’s treated. She wants things to go her way only.
“Wonyoung,” you call out. Fidget with the handle of the door that refuses to budge. “It’s me.”
Knock a little more. There’s no eye behind the peekhole or a soft “come in.” You receive only the unlocking of the furnished knob and a welcome that makes you wish this could go the way your morals would want it to go.
The door opens you to a gorgeous suite that’s the supreme of all room tiers. This is the kind that only the richest of the rich are able to attain. Big as a house with a soft carpeted ground, there’s a queen-sized bed before a wide window of the city. Picture frames commissioned by the wealthy hang from the painted walls. All for the fucking aesthetic.
Even you, a star who paved the way for the Korean entertainment industry itself, aren’t used to this type of wealth.
Find her sitting on the ledge of the window frame. Wonyoung has her hands resting on the sides of the window frame. She doesn’t try at least a stance at nonchalance—no admiring stare at the beautiful view, no worried gaze at her clean fingernails. Her interest is you standing before her like you’re afraid to touch her. She might be right, but it’s not like you’d ever have it in you to admit that.
Even you, a man lusted over by girls and women all over the world, aren’t used to this kind of woman—the kind that eats away at you.
“Wonyoung.” Inside, you feel like the weakest man in the world.
She has this smarmy, confident smile on her perfect lips that tells you that it’s no surprise that you’ve come all the way here for her. No surprise at all. She expected it. Anticipated it, if you will.
Don’t mistake the coquettish float of her lashes for theatrics. No, Jang Wonyoung’s just naturally someone you’d want to fuck, no matter the politics of it. “Yes?”
Her voice is also just that pretty. That’s a large part of why it’s so hard to act professional in front of her when she’s your mentee. Even more so by the fact you’re someone she’s looked up to for the majority of her trainee years, which is already something that would make people’s brows lift.
“Wonyoung.” You let your shoulders rest. “Why are you still dressed like that?”
You know all the dialogue that passes around the general public. Oh, Jang Wonyoung’s so gorgeous! Jang Wonyoung’s even more beautiful in real life! You hate to say you can’t disagree. She’s deadlier in person; her body’s there before the glass like she’s waiting for someone to give in to temptation. That coy simper can ruin careers. It can ruin yours.
To think it all could be gone because of a nineteen-year-old celebrity with a tiny waist and legs you’d love to have around your head.
“Why are you still dressed like someone from the eighties?” Wonyoung taps her chin, then grins. She’s figured it all out. “Oh wait, you are.”
You’re not taking insults from someone who’s below you in experienced years and power. Unluckily, she’s not taking advice from someone above her or below her.
The step you take towards her, towards the little star seated comfortably waiting for you, feels like a sin.
“You’re incredibly unprofessional for a girl who’s worked her way up here,” you note. Cross your arms and give her a reprimanding look.
Wonyoung’s immune to nasty looks, too. She’s been doing this since she was a child. If someone gave her a glare that read all too well of a career assassination, she’d wink the bullet away sweetly. “Hm,” she says contemplatively, “I don’t think you get to say that, honestly.”
Your laugh is blunt and sarcastic. Unbelievable. Wonyoung’s the kindest girl according to the people who work for her, so why is she a rebel in your hands? It doesn’t make sense.
“Look here, we—”
You take three steps closer to her. You’ll keep your little rituals and superstitions to keep yourself grounded. Without them, you’d go insane.
Then without her having to do anything, she comes nearer, like a doomsday foretold by a ticking clock. Who knows? That clock could be a bomb, and that bomb would set off if you dare to touch her with a trembling fingertip. You’d leave the scene injured. And eventually, you’d die the moment they try to help you, because the deed’s been done.
“Oh, I’m looking, alright,” she chirps. She’s doing what you’ve held yourself back from doing: letting her eyes wander. “And I really, really like what I see.”
You’re someone several awards her senior, and you’re still quite intimidated by her at this moment. She’s so sweet yet so honest—she won’t make up a lie to make you feel better and she won’t hide the truth to make you comfortable. Refuse the truth her eyes locked on your crotch tell. You won’t accept it. It’s not right.
“I’m serious.” Approaching her makes you want to go on your knees and beg the lord for a little saving. Do it anyway. No one will rescue you. That’s what the industry taught you. “You’ve made it all the way up here. All by yourself. There’s gotta be something. What are you throwing it all away for?”
She laughs. Funniest thing she’s ever heard. “I’m not. How am I throwing it all away?”
“Those posts,” you hiss. Doesn’t she get it?
Before she could ask you what you’re talking about, you whip out your phone. Click on the app icon. It instantly shows you the opened tab containing Wonyoung’s recent Instagram posts. Look at her, wrapped in nothing, not even those curtains—giving the camera bedroom eyes when girls her age shouldn’t be shooting them at anyone or be aware of how to.
It’s already massed a million likes in under an hour. But you know what people who turn on anyone easily will say, and what they say could blot Wonyoung’s bright future by a lot. A million people around the world have caught sight of the abs she’s worked hard for, her toned back, and just about everything. A loud minority with frisky influences can sabotage her whole reputation.
“These posts,” you continue, shoving the screen into the poor girl’s face, “can take away everything you’ve worked for. All that fame, all that money, you can’t brag about them after this.”
Wonyoung looks on innocently. She stares at the screen with uninterested eyes, then switches them back on you. She looks like such a good girl in that second, with her hands seated beside her and that face so full of sparkling perfection.
Deception can’t lead you away.
“So, what’s it gonna be, Wonyoung?”
Long silence that builds up your frustration. Finally, she clicks her tongue. Gives you a shrug of her thin shoulders.
“You liked it.”
“What?”
She points to your phone. “You liked my post,” she repeats. “It says so right there.”
What the hell is she talking about?
You look at the device you’re brandishing. For a while, you can’t find out what she’s referring to. You can never take a liking to her posts, although if they switch on something you didn’t know you can feel. You’d die before—
The heart.
Wait.
The heart button below her set of pictures is filled with red.
Your heart pumps faster, a button pushed and played.
Fuck.
You turn to her and open your mouth. No sensible words come out. You swear you didn’t tap twice on her update or take it to a private setting. How did it happen? Worse, even if you say that to her, she’d take it as a pathetic lie.
Wonyoung giggles. It’s a tinkly sound that’s adorable, but you’ve long realized that being cute is not all there is to her. She rises slowly, sets her palms over your blazer-clad arms, and gives you an empathetic face. It’s so condescending that you want to dissolve.
“I know what men like you are all about,” she tells you. She speaks with a sultriness that makes you feel warm and has bumps appearing in masses across your skin.
She smiles. Her eyes disappear into crescent moons and the dimple appears on her cheek. You’re done for.
“Come on,” Wonyoung continues, squeezing your forearms. “Here you are, a big old man known for being a good singer or whatever. You’re so popular that the first thing that pops up on Naver is your face. Everything goes right for you, doesn’t it?”
You have no idea where she’s going with this. You’re afraid to even ask. Your teeth grit as her massages grow stronger, harder.
Something else is, too.
“Then, of course, you see me.”
Her hand. It’s curling around your wrist and bringing your fingers right around that flawless waist. She closes them there tightly.
It’s so bad that it’s good. You want to keep touching her, maybe slip your gliding fingers down her jeans. Oh, you shouldn’t. You can’t.
“You see me, and you get all hot and bothered. And what’s so funny is I’m not even doing anything. I’m just being myself, you know. Being young and rich… a beautiful girl…” Wonyoung is unbuttoning your shirt and you don’t realize it. “You can’t understand how I’m allowed to be this hot when you can’t even fuck me with a normal conscience.”
It’s all so wrong. You want to shake her by the shoulders and tell her to shut up. But if Medusa has her eyes, Wonyoung has her lips to turn you to stone. They keep opening elegantly to speak the filthiest, most fucked up shit, and you can’t deny anything.
Her eyes are creased with knowing pride. Her youth doesn’t rescue her from being so messed in the head already. Those thoughts don’t go along with such a pretty face.
“That’s why you like to get rough with me. You tell me to watch how I speak, watch how I act. You tell me to stop talking to you like you’re no one. You tell me that I’m such a little brat. But you only do that so you can get to control me. That’s your most fucked up dream, right?”
Her mouth is the tiniest space away from your chin.
You’re another word away from saving yourself a spot in damnation.
Her finger that scratches a flaw on your blazer beckons you to the fire. “You’re not breaking the law or anything,” says Wonyoung, “so why not break me instead, daddy?”
That’s a deal sealed with a rough kiss.
You grab her cruelly and cover her lips with yours. They’re more amazing than you imagined, soft and competent with how she pushes in deeper, depriving herself of the air she needs the most just to get what she needs just a bit more:
You.
Your tongues collide and clash, striving to get the most taste. She pulls your blazer off (because fuck professionalism, right?) while she kisses you with a hunger that’s equally mental and physical. It’s not like she’d bruise up if you didn’t get your hands on her yet it’s close to that.
And, in your case, it’s not like you’re breaking any law. She’s nineteen, not anywhere under the limits you’d kill others and yourself for touching. Nonetheless, you’re much older—by age, she could be your daughter; by career, she’s your junior; by power, you’re much stronger.
So, it’s still so wrong.
Can’t be when Wonyoung’s fist, firm around your cock, feels so right.
Can’t be when she lands on the edge of the bed with her lips parted in delight as she watches your dick stiffen under her service.
“There you go, daddy,” she coos, smirking. “Just get all hard for me, then you can stuff that big thing up in my pussy.”
Her thumb toys with your cockhead. You purse your lips to hold back a groan. Let go of it anyway when her smooth, closed palm rubs your sensitive flesh. She cups your balls lovingly before gliding her teasing fingertips under your length, right up to your tip. The girl knows how to do this; she’s good at more things other than MCing and performing.
Wonyoung hones this skill with firmer pumps, giving you the handjob of a lifetime. Her long fingers are just made to handle dick. Each stroke is perfection that holds and pulls and slides. You’re leaking so much already.
So you turn into the driver of the hate train, the press that loves getting her bad angles and the articles that slash up her name:
Blame it all on her.
Because you have here a girl, young and pretty and confident, so of course you have to scrape off your sins and nail them all on her, like a quivering hand to wood.
“You think you’re getting it that easily?” you say. Your moan is squeezed in your throat. “Baby, you’re not even close to it.”
Wonyoung smirks. It’s that self-assured, elegant smile that tells you that won’t work on her. She might be a rookie, but she knows how to play the game.
She tightens her grip painfully. That’s what you get for trying to one her up. Do that to anyone, just not Jang Wonyoung. Your cry goes unheard as she yanks you rather than jerks you off. Spits on your head for good measure. Wonyoung’s eyes make a connection with your soul and says, Yep, that’s what I’d do if you weren’t my senior. In fact, I’d do it regardless. I’d choke and spit and leave you to die, because a pretty Samaritan is better than a good one.
“You’re really out of touch, daddy.”
With Wonyoung slathering her drool all over you, you’re forced to teeter on the line between heaven and hell. It burns yet the offer of pleasure leaves you sated.
“You think I’m like the pretty girls out there? Other girls might have broken down and begged you to come back.”
Your rod is subjected to a brief torrid kiss, then a smile as the wicked girl looks up at you.
She laughs, gives you this smile full of haught and womanly power. “Too bad I’m Jang Wonyoung,” she says, her last words before taking you in.
Yes, it’s too bad she’s Jang Wonyoung. It’s too bad she’s not the other girls who’d kneel for a burning touch of stars like you. She wouldn’t be holding control over you with the power of her lips if she had sanity in that pretty head.
Her plump tiers wrap around you and seize everything, encasing it in softness and wetness. Her tongue, the one she uses as a killer expression for her selfies and Instagram updates, kills you all the same with how it swirls around your skin and tastes you. Trying to pretend the girl wasn’t a pro at this like she is with everything else is useless. She’ll keep proving you wrong and overpowering you.
The whole of your shaft is sucked in, then, when her cute nose is pressed directly to your stomach, she lets out a hummed laugh. You shudder—as much as it makes you feel good, fear grips your muscles and makes them limp. She’s loving how wrong everything is, and you’re not sure if you like it.
Her jaw slacks, and then Wonyoung’s swallowing you like you’re water. Can’t be water when you’re this solid in her throat. You let out a shivering groan. You can picture the bulge in Wonyoung’s neck and it’s the last thing you’d count on turning you on, but they did tell you to expect the unexpected.
Her saliva becomes excessive, resulting in some dribbles down her chin that help her work her mouth on you. Wonyoung’s drool sheens you entirely and she keeps adding more. On the occasion she pushes her face into your stomach, your cock gets wetter. She does, too.
“Fuck.” Cussing won’t help deter the onslaught of pleasure. You’re unsalvageable. Say it anyway. You babble meaningless, slurred words and not one gets to Wonyoung. All she can hear is the sound of your quivering moans and her mouth taking you all in.
She becomes less of an idol, less of the elegant princess for the cameras, and instead a fleshlight. However, she reminds you that it isn’t that way with a fierce sneer that stays on at all times. She’s not your girl—she’s Jang Wonyoung, and you’re already incredibly lucky that she chose to go down on you.
All that beautiful hair isn’t of any purpose if you don’t get to touch it, to gather it in a ponytail, to pull on it. Your fingers creep into her brown locks not only to give it a little meaning but also for sanity.
That isn’t a thing in Wonyoung’s world. She pulls your hand off and slaps it on your side. “No,” she says with a shake of her head. “Daddy can’t touch me, not when he’s pretending that he’s hot shit.”
Her nails bury themselves in your hips. Oh, the manicured talons of a gorgeous monster. Oh, the pain that runs through your sides. Should you run before she devours you? Too late for that.
“Wonyoung,” you breathe, and then ask, genuinely: “What the hell is wrong with you?”
She’s so proper and serene on her shows that not even her most desperate fan would think she’s a terror. They don’t know she’s a girl who likes older, weaker men who’d ruin her if she hasn’t the pretty face and attractively black heart to do them the favor instead.
“What’s wrong with you?”
You’d respond if you knew the answer.
Wonyoung rubs her thumb under your dick, sending little sparks aflying. “Why’d you kiss me earlier?” Her lipstick decorates it as a kinder girl would to your face. “Why didn’t you grab my hair and tell me to be a good girl? Why didn’t you leave? It’s not my fault you want to fuck me.”
All these words of destruction and your cock remains standing. It’s a staunch reminder to her that you can say whatever you want and the hard evidence remains. You want to fuck Wonyoung. You want to do it to a rookie who’d turn the story around on you if it ever came out. You want to fuck her so bad it’s borderline pitiable.
“I’m just giving you what you want, daddy.” Her fingers caress your sides. “Trust me, I could be a very good girl if I wanted to.”
You almost didn’t believe that until Wonyoung started to suck you off again.
Her lips stroke you effortlessly as if this were her pastime. That’s your most accurate guess, because this seamless performance—the one of her mouth working on you with the impression that this whole thing is nothing to her—can’t be a natural gift. The combination of dripping saliva and her soft lips is lethal.
It’s unbelievable how she manages to find all your tender spots. She preys on them, licking and licking until you’re very sure you were going to blow all over her. But you can’t give her that satisfaction.
You’re very close to doing so though. She’s perfectly sloppy and rough. You glare at her when she lightly teases her teeth on your girth. She winks at you in response. She leaves you breathless in so many ways.
“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, god—” you whine. It’s so hard to adapt to the girl sitting there with that innocent face and wild mouth that doesn’t dare give up on you.
Her expressions on camera are always poised. Off camera, there’s this one she flashes you as she shoves her face into your stomach that looks downright evil. Although she’s already fucking you with her throat, Wonyoung partners it with strong suction that’s sure to drain you.
“Yes, daddy?” She doesn’t pant when she goes up for air, replacing her sucking with her long fingers.
��I’m really close,” you admit. It’s obvious from your shaking legs.
Sounds of returned wet suction start to increase. Criticism and compliments prod Wonyoung on. How else would she improve in her idol life? In blowing you? In devouring you?
You realize you’re fitting the cliché. There’s you, an idol whose name is uttered on the daily by both young and old fans, igniting a scandal in the making by fucking a girl beneath you in everything. There’s this expensive suite where stars go for a little precious privacy to do what they want. There’s the two of you doing exactly what you desire: fucking each other. There’s the classic maneater trope with how it’s more like Wonyoung fucking you—she fucks you with her face, fucks you in the head, fucks with your righteousness. Well, fuck.
Wonyoung drools so much that you’re invited to a sea the moment your head pushes past her tongue again. It’s slicker, sloppier, and so much sexier because she’s so completely devoted to your cock. Her hypnotizing eyes trap you and so does her body, tight and tiny—that tummy is flatter than a board and only thin panties hide what her long legs lead to from the bottom.
The only time she stops sucking you is when she darts her tongue side to side with an unhinged pace on your sensitive tip. “Good. Cum in my throat.”
“Shit, god, I can’t—”
Wonyoung attacks you again, and there, in her warm orifice, your plentiful orgasm spends itself. Her throat welcomes you tightly every time. Her hot restricted breaths fan your groin and evokes more semen that spills with no care.
Your hands ball into fists. Although you’re hot and shaking, you can’t touch her. Why are you following her rules when it should be the other way around? It’s a reversal of roles, a Stockholm’s Syndrome of some sorts whose victim is your cock never wanting to leave from the predatory embrace of Wonyoung’s puckered kiss.
Of course, after she gathers all of your cum in the pool of her mouth, she swallows.
She really could be a good girl.
“Awh.” Wonyoung pouts mockingly. “Daddy, are you crying?”
Touch your face. To your horror, she’s right. The electricity and shock of her continuous blowjob results in a few tears on your cheeks. You haven’t done that in years. Wonyoung is the first one to make you cry like this.
You flush. What more to hide your weakness than anger? “Wonyoung,” you start, then you realize you don’t know what to say, “I—you—”
She smiles. You aren’t going anywhere.
She shoves you to the bed. You’ve reached rock bottom in spite of the softness of the quality pillows. You’ll scrape your way out if not for Wonyoung finishing the job by keeping you there assisted by her legs. They close around you with not even a courtesy false promise of an escape. No negotiation, no coaxes.
Wonyoung is sitting on your crotch but not on your dick, which is a problem. Which is a solution. Her hands are pinned to your chest while you try not to meet her eyes. It’s a losing game when your runaway glances are met by her grinding hips, silky thighs, and the hard, flexing abs of a perfection of a midriff.
Her fingers tug on the waistband of her panties before slowly slipping them off. Her pink pussy clear of blemish or hair comes in contact with your length. Up and down she goes, her dancing hips always seeking for more friction. You understand their need because you share the same—Wonyoung’s splayed lips on your member feel heavenly. It’s kind of disappointing that she might as well have climbed her way out of hell.
If she did, she’s the prettiest little devil you’ve ever seen.
“Ohhh, don’t you get it?” Wonyoung asks. She moves so smoothly, you nearly forget she’s humping you rather than dancing. Her soft moan brings you back. It’s the first time you’ve heard it, and you’re melting; it sounds so seductive and innocent in the same breath.
You know her. She knows you. So it’s clear: Jang Wonyoung can be anything—supermodel, actress, dancer—but she cannot ever be innocent.
Her gorgeous voice is silky when it twists into moans and gasps. Looking down at your crotches meeting and swaying is a better show than end-of-the-year performances. The blowjob and commanding you around must have turned her on by a lot—her flesh is hot and wanton with juices as it slides up and down you.
“You’re not going anywhere, daddy!” Wonyoung giggles. She kisses your nose, then your chest until her lipstick marks you. You burn up with feverish lust after each peck. “Daddy is only Wonyoung’s. And I knew your perfect cock would be mine when I posted those pics. I know men like daddy would do anything for me.”
“Wonyoung.” Breathe again, because you’ll need to after this, so why not do it now? “Why are you doing this?”
You thought her flirtatiousness in your office was just her coyness coming out to play. She’d rest her chin on your desk, suck a red lollipop on some days, maybe run her fingertips over your knuckles. Day in and out, she plays the same game. You didn’t know it would reach this level.
“Because I want to mess you up, daddy,” Wonyoung says. Her tongue swipes at the cavern of your mouth right until she nibbles at your lower lip. Her lipstick peppers your face. “I want to fuck my daddy up so bad he’ll never go a day without thinking of me.”
Swallow. The friction of your sexes is driving you crazy and close to the edge. All the same, you don’t want to make a fool of yourself cumming early for Wonyoung.
What happened to your dynamics? Your relationship? There wasn’t a romantic one, but it was always you holding the reins professionally and her just being an insistent passenger. Now she’s wrapping that rein around your neck and claiming you for her own. Looks like you have control everywhere excluding the bed.
“That’s it?” you ask. Shut your eyes—just seeing her grind on you with her utterly wet cunt can make you bust. “Your career doesn’t matter to you?”
“I could say the same thing to you.” Wonyoung lifts herself up and flashes that wicked smile again. “But I want to feel this in me before you wimp out.”
You and Wonyoung fall down a bottomless hole of consequence and wrongs but Wonyoung makes sure to bottom out the first time she sits on your dick. She engulfs you whole and traps you there with her soaked, grippy walls that slide all the way down.
You’d say her pussy has a vise grip, holding onto you like all goes wrong if it didn’t, except you think it has the grip of a vice. Need for her juices that coat you replaces the need for alcohol. Even if you get out of this suite alive, (which is a low possibility), you can see yourself always coming back for more. You could be addicted to anything—smoking, eating, cheating—but it just so happened your vice is Wonyoung.
“Daddy!” she yelps, and from there you can’t count the times she slams her cute butt down your thighs. “Oh my god, daddy!”
Her dainty, cute yells make you throb inside her. Perhaps it’s the kittenish quality of it that turns you on so much. She sounds so appealing, so fucking ruinable that it’s surprising to see that she’s doing the ruining here. Her expression in bed is more animated than the ones she makes onstage—her nearly closed eyes look upwards while her mouth falls open.
The squeeze of her tight, wet cunt renders your knees weak. It’s a good thing you’re lying down. Wonyoung makes sure you stay that way by penetrating herself with you over and over again. Her being barely a weight on you doesn’t stop you from lying there uselessly. You know better by now not to challenge her, not when each time you enter her vagina is better than the last. Her pussy is slippery and tight, proving to be the smallest and the best fit for your shaft simultaneously. Her hole is too tight and too good.
“Is this all for me, daddy? Huh?” Wonyoung circles her hips, making you moan, then continues her up-and-down movements. “You’re so hard, you naughty daddy. I know you got a b-boner when you looked at my posts. Now I’m giving you another one.”
You always thought of Wonyoung as justifiably confident yet arrogant. She told you once at your desk that she doesn’t deserve a stylist who only has a four-star rating. She lamented about the lack of competence of her staff preparing her comeback stage. All those you turned down to give the topics of her complaints the benefit of the doubt, but you know she’s right. She doesn’t deserve less when she’s better than the best. She doesn’t deserve less when she knows her place: a royal throne. So you can’t deny that she’s too hot to handle, undiscriminating to you whose connections always have impossibly beautiful women somewhere in there.
She’s so hot that her small breasts bouncing from behind that denim bra and tube top looks appealing. She’s so hot that the heat between her legs grows wetter. She’s so hot that when her soft ass crashes down on you again, you don’t find it a repetitive bore.
She’s so hot that you’d let the slim, tall girl use you until dusk turns to dawn, even if the curtains behind her are drawn apart and the secret cameras get to snap a photo.
“Shit, Wonyoung,” you say, your core squeezing. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“I bet you’ve thought about this, daddy. You thought that one night, I’ll be so bad that you could book us a whole hotel and fuck me in all the rooms, just like this one. I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Yes, fuck yes.”
“You wanted to open my legs and use my little pussy all day long, huh? Until I’m yours to throw around and do whatever?”
“Y-yes.” Nod. Your face twists—she shouldn’t speak when she’s fucking you because all the filth she says makes you want to blow inside her already. It’s the kind of truth that arouses rather than hurts.
Wonyoung’s riding switches to a rapid intensity that makes you yell. She lets you in so deep to the point that her butt cheeks touch your heavy balls. She’ll drain them for sure; the pace she sets is terrifyingly quick. It seems that she becomes tighter after each bounce, and it’s not helping you hold out at all.
Watch the wildness in Wonyoung’s eyes become animalistic. It makes you all the more certain now of one solid fact: there is something seriously wrong with Jang Wonyoung.
She smirks. “Well, you got it wrong. I’m not all yours, daddy.” She leans down, resting her palms on your shoulders. “You are all mine.”
Her hands might as well be a chained collar waiting to close around your neck. Her devilish simper is supposed to scare you, not turn you on. Somehow, it does both.
She flicks back her hair as she sits up again. Through it all, her riding doesn’t stop. “This cock?” she asks before slamming her pussy down it with a different kind of ferociousness. Cry out but she shuts you up with a furious kiss. “It’s gonna be my dirty secret. I’ll always go to daddy after my schedules so I can make him cum—over and over again.”
To think that a young girl like her has you at her beck and call is laughable, but there’s no laughing now. As you stare at Wonyoung’s fluid body and her hair bouncing beautifully, you realize she actually can have you for herself. It only took one Instagram post to lure you to her. She sees you’re falling deeper and deeper for her.
She didn’t exactly tell you how to escape.
“You gonna cum, daddy? Is my perfect pussy milking you?”
You can do nothing except nod.
“Of course, I can feel you throbbing, i-it’s making me lose it,” gasps Wonyoung. Her whines are making you lose it yourself. “Let’s cum together, okay? You can only cum when you feel Wonyoung squirt all over your massive cock.”
She squeezes tighter on top of you when she reaches down to rub her clit. She’s in search of any kind of stimulation: the slap of her ass on your thighs, the upward shoves of your erection, the pulse of her clit. Her moans increase in their whiny girlishness. Their tender vulnerability makes you think she should be the one underneath your body though you’re aware that’s never going to happen. Wonyoung belongs on top, just the same with her name in first place in the list of brand reputation rankings, browser searches, followers.
Once upon a time, you took charge over her. You managed her lessons, her videos, her behind-the-scenes duties. Funny how it’s the opposite now, wherein she jounces on you freely with the domineering message of caution: don’t cum until she does.
And god, is she making that hard. Everything about her is so attractive, from the bounce of her hair to her midriff showing your entering cock to her pretty pink pussy clutching you. What gets you, however, is her face—everyone loves looking at that face. Today, you’re under an aphrodisiac for it: you’re in love with the roll of her eyes as she rides you, the pink on her cheeks, the part of her lips.
“Fuck yes! Ugh, daddy, you feel so good inside me…” Wonyoung’s core clenches and slides your penis along its textured, sensitive walls. Her gasp is straight out of fantasies. “You’re balls deep, see? Look how your meat’s filling me. My pussy’s going to be so sore after this.” She chuckles. “Wait, who says we’re stopping?”
You shudder. You’re getting very close. Your earlier orgasm still has its effects on you. You’re afraid you’re going to do something you shouldn’t under her bedroom law. She’ll imprison you with her thighs and waterboard you with all the girl cum she promised until you confess that she’s the best fuck you ever had.
“Daddy’s going to cum so hard he’s probably going to breed me. Then I’ll, oh, I’ll feel it inside my tummy and it’s going to be a scandal. Wouldn’t you like that? Getting to knock up Jang Wonyoung? I can hear you moaning. I think you really like that. I think that’s why you’re thrusting up in me. You want to be a real daddy and make your baby girl a mommy. That’s so fucked up, you know that, right? You shouldn’t be having sex with me, let alone breeding me. But you’re a fucking weak old man, so of course you like that.”
You’re burning up. They’re the signs of what’s to come. If her confident words inspire her young fans, her monologues of lust make you feel like you’re the worst person in the world. Of course, the boner is part of the effect.
You groan. “Wonyoung, baby girl, please—”
“Oh god, daddy, I’m going to cum!” she squeals. Her emotions control her and tell her to go harder, bounce harder, squeeze harder. She’s pushing past her limits. “Agh, agh, you’re cumming, too, right? Cum for me. You’ll be—fuck, my daddy’s going to make me cum! I’m squirting all over his cock!”
She slams herself down roughly and repeatedly till your lower body’s flooded with her cum. You can’t take it anymore. It feels like dying because you swear you can see stars in the ceiling, stars of lust in her eyes. La petite mort. How poetic, since Wonyoung’s screaming still sounds as beautiful as her singing and speaking.
Her shouts are close to breaking the windows’ glass. Anyone can figure out what’s happening without the destruction of the pane—the curtains are wide open, letting the world see the youngest icon of the new generation pumping herself onto her co-worker.
You wonder if there’s actually poor watchers out there seeing you cream Wonyoung’s princess pussy, grab her ass to guide her, and kiss her when she leans down.
Wonyoung tastes the best when she’s squirting.
-
Consequences always catch up no matter what. You can hide under a cloak, in another country, underneath the earth in a secluded bunker and all that won’t help. You’ll be stuck dealing with the outcome, thorns from a rose you thought was too pretty to have some.
That’s the first thing you remember when you wake up, wrapped in the bed sheets and by Wonyoung’s arms. Someone’s calling you. Bad news: it’s your boss—the ringtone itself sounds angry, too.
“Hello?” you ask. You can’t help the grogginess of your morning voice, try as you may. If your boss didn’t know what happened, he can perfectly guess from the exhaustion riddling your greeting.
“You dumb little shit.” You can feel the spittle of your boss’ insult from miles away, cities away, screens away. “You’re lucky I’m friends with the fucking CEO.”
“What happened?”
“Don’t give me that. Some janitor saw you from the wing. I needed to hear it from you: did you fuck Jang Wonyoung?”
Unexpectedly, a veiny hand you remember holding something else grabs your phone. Wonyoung leans against your shoulder wearing nothing as she holds the phone to her ear.
“Why?” she quips, loud and clear. “Wouldn’t you?”
#kpop smut#smut#kpop fanfic#fanfic#kpop fanfiction#fanfiction#izone smut#ive smut#jang wonyoung smut#wonyoung smut#izone wonyoung smut#ive wonyoung smut#male reader#x reader#reader insert#idol x reader#idol x male reader#female idol x reader#kpop x reader#kpop x male reader#pov smut#kofimission#commission#iz days of christmas#iz days of christmas day 12#iz days of christmas 2023
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OKAY so what ive been thinking about for ages is ctommy and being soft vs quiet . because i feel like it's one of those things in his fandom characterisation that sparks the most debate and in my opinion theres a huge difference between the two but i keep seeing people mix them together.
ctommy is soft but he's not quiet, and to disregard either of those things is what makes him less believable in fanworks imo
because on one hand, of course he's not quiet, that's the most obvious and i think one of the most commonly accepted qualms that we have with general fan interpretations of him. he doesn't just lie down and take shit, he's always committed to being an annoying shit, he's straight up rude so often, and even just. vocally. man's loud as fuck. i think that's pretty easy to establish .
but then what i find is that sometimes we veer into the other opposite, by completely denying that ctommy is also very soft sometimes. and by this i don't mean he turns into strawberry shortcake or starts being polite or whatever, but it's the fact that he's not just crass and rude. he's very considerate a lot of the time, he just shows it. uh. in his Own Way let's say. he cares for animals so so much, he's always so apologetic when he thinks he's hurt one of them, for fuck's sake he sung to the FLOWERS. he's very soft with nature, with things he's attached to, with things he perceives as weaker than him and needing protection.
the complexity of ctommy and what makes him so hard to grasp is that he's loud, he's brash, he is NOT a perfect quiet victim who suffers in silence, he asks for help, he's rude, he steals stuff, he's annoying as shit; but he's also soft, and incredibly empathetic, and he has no shame in showing that softness for animals or nature or his friends.
ctommy, and this is very much because cctommy himself acts like that a lot, is constantly vacillating between someone with the maturity of a thirteen year old boy who shouts and swears and pretends not to give a shit, and a boy who will stop everything he's doing to look at the sky or a flower or an animal (which does contrast his stereotypical rude teenager persona, because lots of aforementioned thirteen year old boys Would be embarrassed or whatever to do that).
he does BOTH. he's not just quiet and nice and sad and lonely; but he's not just rude and loud and """uncaring""" (if there is one thing ctommy is not i think we can all agree its UNCARING).
and i think this is why a lot of debates around "woobifying" ctommy (who remembers the july 2021 trenches . the butterfly clips.) tend to point any ctommy design that portrays him as soft, cozy, or even leaning into his feminine side as the be-all end-all of reducing his character.
in reality i think that misses the mark a bit because while there IS something to be said for sure about people turning ctommy into Blonde Anime Child #249824 and stripping him of his Very Vibrant character, i don't think that putting him in butterfly clips and skirts erases him in the same way. i think he could very much lean into that kind of thing . as long as he's still flipping off the camera we're all good
TLDR : fans strip ctommy of his loud-and-annoying persona but in avoiding that some forget that he's a character who's not afraid to be soft
#this isn't like. angry or anything btw. there are lots of things that make me angry about fan characterisations but not this#this is more like a general discussion of what i find interesting PLEASE add on!!!#like this is not discourse Lets not get mad peace and love we are all subjects to mischaracterisation and me the first like everyone else❤️#tommyinnit#c!tommy#mcyt#alex.rambles.txt
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MORE THAN THAT— LO’AK SULLY.
pairing: x fem! reader.
tags: childhood friends to lovers, a little bit of angst towards the middle, insecure lo’ak, reader is mad at him, lack of communication because i love pain, they’re both 18 during the second half! a little suggestive towards the end, this is a long one btw :].
word count: 7k (my longest fic!!!)
note: ive been writing this for about a month (on and off obviously) and i thought i might share it now that i finally decided where to end it (?), it’s not entirely proof-read, my amazing best friend @aurelianamu (check her neteyam piece its amazing) read some of it and told me what to fix, so the rest will be corrected along the way. thank you for reading!
dividers by: @firefly-graphics
You are ten when you first meet the Sully’s, family of Toruk and Palulukan Makto.
Being the newest friend of Kiri, the second oldest didn’t hesitate to introduce you to her family, proud of the fact that she managed to make a friend so easily. You were shy, closed off and unsure of how to behave in the presence of the man that your parents told you many stories about. Your little child brain was curious to know as to how he behaved with his family, if he would be nice to you or strict and harsh, even if he had no reason to show anything besides kindness to his daughter’s newest friend.
“She is the same age as Lo’ak,” Kiri exclaimed with lots of excitement, holding your hand tightly while standing in front of her parents.
“Is that so?” Kiri’s mother, Neytiri, spoke with a gentle tone, smile adorning her lips which was unusual since she always seemed to be sporting a serious look on her face around The People.
“Who is the same age as me?” A voice spoke from behind you and suddenly, you were very aware of the fact that Kiri had more siblings than you—in fact, you had none. So you jumped slightly, a little surprised by the proximity of the boy.
“(Name), my friend!” Kiri’s excitement while introducing you warmed your heart but it also made you hyperaware of the looks you were receiving even if they weren’t malicious.
“Your friend?” Lo’ak stated in question, eyes scanning your face before puffing his chest out proudly like a peacock. “I bet being my friend would be more fun!”
Now, you weren’t expecting that. Kiri let go of your hand to push her brother back, almost telling him off at his attempt at stealing you away from her and you could only watch in horror as the bickering turned into hair pulling.
“Hi, I’m Neteyam.” Neteyam’s voice was soft and gentle, very similar to his mother’s and it made you relax for a moment before you realized you had to introduce yourself as well. Yet before you could speak, he was cutting you off with a nod. “(Name), I heard Kiri introduce you.”
You nodded back at him, eyes falling on the scene unraveling before you; Lo’ak and Kiri being scolded heavily by Toruk Makto himself, his eyes warning them that if they tried to say one more word, they would get grounded for a whole month.
“Ma Jake, be nice. We have a guest.” Neytiri tried to console.
“Exactly, so they should learn how to behave,” Jake Sully grabbed his kids and made them stand in front of you. “It’s up to her if she wants to befriend either of you, okay?”
“But dad! I found her first!” Kiri’s bottom lip quivered and you stepped towards her with a look of concern.
“Kiri, you’re my friend.” Lo’ak huffed at this, head dramatically turning to the side making his hair move with him. “Lo’ak can also be my friend.” Said boy’s ears perked up at this, face slowly turning to face you while scanning for any possible clues that you were just kidding.
Jake smiled at this, hand resting on top of your head before ruffling your hair. “Yeah? You wouldn’t mind befriending this knucklehead?”
“Knucklehead?” Your confusion only added to the fun of it and Jake chuckled before standing up straight.
“It means he needs someone to look out for him at all times.”
“Dad!” Lo’ak whined at the statement yet you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.
“Friends look out for each other, right?” Your question earned a nod of approval from Toruk Makto and that was all you needed before stepping forward, firmly holding Lo’ak’s hand in your own.
“Lo’ak and I are friends then.” The youngest boy stared at you in awe, feeling the tips of his ears warm up at the sincerity of your voice.
“Friends.”
You are twelve when you learn what a pinky promise is.
You loved hanging out with Kiri, yet she and the rest of her family couldn’t deny the obvious chemistry between you and Lo’ak.
Despite the youngster’s stubborn personality and disobedient nature, he became more tolerable around you. That didn’t mean that he stopped from causing trouble, but he was seen around you sharing toys, passing you bits of food that was handed to him by his mother and even went as far as to to grab a giant leaf from a tree to cover you when you curled yourself into a ball to sleep.
The same could be said about you, yet your personality was never a problem in the first place. Kiri knew you as the kind hearted young na’vi that you presented yourself to be and you didn’t change around any of her family members. Although, she was able to notice the way you let things slide for the sake of being close to Lo’ak, such as letting him near your personal space, allowing him to touch your hair and look at the beads while proudly showing off your mother’s choice of colors and even letting him redo one of your braids as you two sat in silence.
Kiri wanted to feel jealous of this, she did befriend you first but she couldn’t help but let her heart feel at ease. Her brother and closest friend got along and it was worth more than anything in the world.
“Lo’ak, aren’t all sky people bad?” you were currently in the middle of your play session with the young na’vi, and the latter halted his actions at your words to stare at you with furrowed eyebrows. He noticed your stare, how it lingered on Spider, their human companion for as long as they could remember, before returning his eyes back on you.
“My dad was once a sky person, he isn’t bad at all.”
“Your dad is Toruk Makto!” you exclaimed almost in disbelief at the fact that Lo’ak was insinuating that you were even thinking of lumping his dad with those terrible people who had once destroyed your home.
“I’m just saying, if my dad is nice and he once was a sky person, then it means there’s a chance good sky people exist.” Lo’ak answered with a shrug. He trusted easily, that was something you envied him for. You couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling whenever you stared at Spider and a part of you felt bad that your brain didn’t allow you to relax in the presence of a boy who had done nothing to you, his only crime was to belong to a race that caused you great pain and suffering.
“It could be true…” Your friend was able to sense your anxiety just by looking at your body shrink in its spot, your arms hugging your knees closer to your chest before resting your head there. He might’ve not been the softest out of his siblings, but he knew that you needed comforting ; any kind that is.
“Hey listen,” Lo’ak put his toy down next to you before leaning down to your level with his pinky finger up. “I promise that I won’t ever let sky people do anything to you, okay? Pinky promise.”
Despite the feeling of warmth that you felt at his words, the obvious confusion on your face was a telltale sign that you didn’t know what a pinky promise was.
“Pinky… promise?” your voice came out soft, hesitant as you mirrored lo’ak’s actions and the moment he hooked both of your pinkies together, you felt your heart strings tug in your chest.
“Yes. A promise that is never meant to be broken.”
At your silence, Lo’ak realized that you had been staring at his hand. Hard.
Upon figuring out what was so fascinating about his hand that it silenced you, he immediately tried to pull it back on his lap, regretting a little the fact that he got too comfortable showing you his hand, his filthy demon hand.
“No,” you started with a stern look, grabbing his hand to pull back next to your face and held his pinky finger up with much concentration on your face.
“I don’t judge, I like your hands,” you hooked your pinky finger once again with his and Lo’ak wasn’t able to shake off the funny feeling in his chest, how his heart leapt as he nervously gulped down the lump in his throat.
“Pinky promise?” His voice came out as a whisper, almost in disbelief that you were accepting of who he was and who he came from. he did believe that his father was the exception to use as an example to justify good sky people existing.
“Pinky promise.”
Fourteen and fifteen were an easy age, you got along most of the time and everyone was scared when the both of you teamed up against them. Yet sixteen and seventeen had proven to you that you were both strong minded and that made you butt heads often, only in harmless ways.
You two are eighteen you realize that the bickering and butting heads was just a love language of yours, that your disagreements would never take away from how much you cared for each other.
“You have got to be one knucklehead to do something like that!” You hiss at the boy who could only stare back at you with an equally murderous glare, clearly disliking the vocabulary you were using.
“I am no knucklehead if I just wanted to have fun.” He hissed in return, and it quickly turned into a groan when your hands tugged harshly at the bandage circling his arm, sending him a warning that you weren’t going to let it slide easily just because he was wounded.
“Fun on the war zone? I didn’t know that playing with your life is the newest form of entertainment.” His family watched in absolute entertainment as you two bickered back and forth. The argument kept shifting from humorous to serious and they didn’t know where to stand.
On the outside, it seemed as though you disliked one another, yet this was just another day for the Sullys where you and Lo’ak bickered so much, they had to get you two separated to make it stop.
“Shit- stop! that hurts!” he almost wailed, leaning back against the tree when you applied the ointment to the cut on his face and given the expression of disapproval you had on yours, Lo’ak could only mutter under his breath as he fixed his posture.
“Man, am I not allowed to complain now?”
“Lo’ak,” you started, and he could immediately sense your change in demeanor by how visibly deflated you looked.
“I’m okay,” He cut you off with a firm stare, but his hand held a warmth to it, a gentle reminder that he could never be mean to you for a long time as he rested his palm on top of your hand. “Really, it was just one reckless moment that is all.”
“You’ve been saying this for— Eywa knows how long, Lo’ak, it’s serious. You need to watch out.”
“You don’t trust me?” With his tone, you could tell he was genuinely curious to know what you felt about him as a warrior and his heart was ready to shatter into pieces, waiting for the usual answer that was chanted like a mantra by his father.
“I mean, I’m not as strong or as cool as big brother Neteyam, but I can be helpful on the field and–“
“Lo’ak, I trust you.” You were never one to lie, especially not when you let your eyes fall on his. Flashing him a small smile, your fingers applied the ointment on the rest of the cuts on his face in a much more delicate manner, taking in how his tail was swaying from side to side at your comment.
“Someone is a little happy,” you teased, hands gathering all the medical stuff that his grandmother had given you to put them back in their spot.
“I will push you off my Ikran next time we go on a ride.” the glare on his face was playful and you couldn’t help but pat his head affectionately.
“I can always call for my own Ikran you idiot.” He wasn’t even able to push you away when you leaned down with your pinky up to his face.
“Pinky promise, by the way,”
“Pinky promise?” You didn’t let him stay confused for long before grabbing his wrist to intertwine your pinky fingers together.
“That I trust you. With all of my heart.” and with that, you took off with your tail swaying softly from side to side.
Lo’ak observed you for some time after you left, ignoring how his face still stung a little from you tending to his small wounds. Sighing in exhaustion, he ignored the looks he was getting from Kiri who sat only a couple of steps away from him.
“Shut up.” He turned his head away when he saw his sister approach him with a teasing grin, ready to tell her off for the umpteenth time the same week for teasing him about the usual topic.
“I haven’t even said anything,” Kiri plopped herself next to her brother, immediately taking notice of how Lo’ak was able to see you every move from his spot.
“I know what you will say and you’re wrong.”
“So you’re just going to keep denying the obvious heart eyes you have for my best friend?” The girl na’vi raised an eyebrow in suspicion.
“I don’t have heart eyes for my best friend too, if you haven’t forgotten yet, I would never do anything to ruin the friendship.” To say that Lo’ak was an idiot was an understatement.
Kiri had told him that a crush would never ruin the friendship but Lo’ak saw it differently. You were a comfort he never thought he could have in a person beside family, a safe space for him to runaway to whenever things got too stressful with his father, Jake, and most importantly you were a best friend, a ride or die and someone who cared about him too much for him to risk watching everything fall apart.
His heart squeezed at the white lie he told his sister, another moment of denial where he forcefully swallowed down any possible trace of romantic feelings for his best friend and Kiri sighed in defeat, having already given up on the topic for the day.
“If you say so, don’t be disappointed if she finds someone else.” She stood up from her spot on the tree, looking down at her brother who visibly flinched at the mention of you possibly finding a mate, a lifelong partner and someone who would proudly show you off before Eywa.
“I would be happy for her,” Lo’ak almost bit his tongue at his attempt to fool his own heart, to halt it from hammering so strongly against his chest and stop himself from feeling so upset at the thought.
“Brother, you’re a fool.” Was all what Kiri said before walking away towards you and starting a casual conversation as usual, asking you if you wanted to go on a ride on your Ikrans after making sure every warrior was safe and taken care of.
And Lo’ak could only watch with a tight jaw, flexing his hand in an attempt to stop himself from possibly punching himself in the face.
Maybe Jake was right, he was a disappointment. Someone who isn’t even able to maintain a proper friendship without falling hard for his best friend, and the uncertainty of keeping things strictly platonic with you was eating him up alive. He hoped that Eywa would make his worries go away, and perhaps find a solution to the mess he had created inside his head.
Eywa didn’t take long before answering his prayers, but it came with a cost.
Longing stares and hours of talking to one another way past curfew after sneaking out turned into cold shoulders and short conversations. The effort was barely there and you could tell Lo’ak didn’t even want to acknowledge your existence whenever you came around and it hurt, it pained you that you didn’t even know what you had done wrong to suddenly lose a person whom you held so dear to your heart.
Your lip quivered as you stared at the plate of fruits you had freshly cut up for Lo’ak, tears threatening to spill from your eyes when you remember how he harshly rejected your offer at spending time together.
“I have a meeting with my father. Later.”
“But Lo’ak we haven’t–“
“Don’t be so clingy, I said later. Go find someone else to eat the fruits with.”
Clingy? Someone else?
You didn’t want to eat them with anyone beside him. Having him call you clingy when he used to get excited to spend time with you, saved you the last bits of his food and would talk your ear off about his schedule, it was all confusing. You didn’t know what you had done wrong and if you were even able to fix it given how it was painfully obvious that you were the source of the miscommunication going on.
It felt like Eywa wasn’t on your side the past few weeks, and your heart squeezed in disappointment at how your strong faith was being questioned by such tough times. You never doubted your deity, believed that everything happens for a reason but what could possibly come out of being so abruptly separated from Lo’ak?
You headed back to your hammock and set the plate aside to grab your pen and paper. When everything felt like it was falling apart, writing seemed to be the safest option. You found comfort in spilling your worries to a sheet of paper and weren’t ashamed of it, in fact, you were praised greatly for it by Kiri who had told you that her mother would’ve definitely developed an interest to you and your ways of distressing.
Oh Eywa has it been difficult to breathe as of late. Lo’ak hates me, that I am sure of. I have been nothing but a good friend to him and I’m confused and heartbroken, I don’t know what to do Eywa and I want to talk to him, to ask him what caused to hate me so strongly. Maybe it’s my strong love for him? Have I pushed it too far?
To be truthful, you had been in a state of denial for quite some time now. You were a friend to Lo’ak, a companion and a person who was always by his side but your heart craved more.
It was the way your heart leapt whenever Lo’ak came around, throbbing when he sat next to you, leaving no space between the both of you. How your body tensed when he would place his hands on your shoulders and he would stare at you with concerned eyes, wondering if he had smacked your skin a bit too hard.
But you knew it was wrong. It was unacceptable for you to feel this way for your best friend, even more horrible to crave him in ways only two people who are mated want one another.
You felt rustling behind you and jumped at the noise, head whipping back with fearful eyes only to relax once you realized that it was just Neteyam.
You had grown to enjoy the boy’s company over the years and he was nothing but nice to you. The two of you had short yet sweet conversations and you could tell that Neteyam saw you as a sister, someone who belonged in the family more than anyone else.
“Thought you had a meeting with Mr. Sully?” your voice was small as you scribbled on your paper, lips pressed in a thin line and posture slouched as you leaned against the tree.
“Fix your posture, you’ll feel like you’re eighty when you’re twenty.” Neteyam tried to brighten up the mood, only to realize that it poor timing since you only flashed him a weak smile before giving a half assed attempt at sitting up properly.
“So no meeting, he just didn’t want to see me?” The boy flinched at your words and he wished you didn’t notice, but you were smart and you had a sharp eye. Things like body language and little white lies didn’t go unnoticed by you and yet Neteyam was confused on how you weren’t able to see through Lo’ak’s poor attempt at pushing you away because of how much he wanted you.
“He’s an idiot, but I promise you that–“
“Don’t…Don’t promise me something that might not happen,” you cut him off with a sharp intake of breath, your chest tightening and tears threatening to spill at any moment. You were growing tired of everyone reassuring you with words, only for Lo’ak to shatter any hope you’ve had that you two would make up from the nonexistent fight that you had.
“He thinks what he’s doing is the right thing, but it isn’t,” The eldest of the Sullys took it upon himself to wipe your tears away, thumbs caressing your cheeks in a delicate manner. “He is an idiot, but I want you to know that it’s paining him just as much,“
You scoffed at the words but never pulled away from the boy’s touch. “It pains him just as much? He’s the one who started it.”
“I know but–“
“Teyam,” your hand wraps around his wrist, and you gently pull it away from your face before holding his hand in your own. “It’s alright, I know you want to defend your brother and you have every right to do so but he hurt me, he’s causing me so much pain from a situation he created,”
“I’m not asking you to pick sides, but I’m also not going to let my pain get invalidated. I’m the one hurting here because he woke up on the wrong side of his hammock three weeks ago and decided not to utter a single word my way ever since.”
Neteyam could only sigh at your words. You were right, the situation was much more complicated than a simple disagreement between you two. Had you known the full story behind what was going on inside Lo’ak’s brain, maybe then it would feel fair to tell you that the boy was also in pain.
“Just do what feels less painful to you.” As if that was going to be easy, but the more you interacted with Lo’ak, the tighter your chest felt. You needed a break from the boy even if you knew that seeing him was enough to reassure you that he was doing okay.
This was the longest Lo’ak had ever sulked in a corner and everyone was starting to grow tired of it.
The boy was almost lifeless, barely engaging in any conversation with his family members. He ignored Tuk’s nagging and consistent request to play with her, brushed off Neteyam’s suggestion to go on a ride with their Ikrans and wouldn’t even talk back to Kiri and Spider.
He was unrecognizable to say the least.
Neytiri nudged her husband with a concerned look on her face, eyes silently begging him to do something about the boy who went from being the loudest to the most reserved.
Jake could only awkwardly shuffle in his spot before coughing to catch his children’s attention. Talking to his sons wasn’t his virtue, it felt easier to console his little girls but given how strange Lo’ak had been acting, it was finally time to have a heart to heart with his son.
“Son, let’s ride our Ikrans after dinner.”
Lo’ak didn’t even raise his head at the sentence, simply thinking that Jake wasn’t referring to him. It wasn’t until the silence had felt too long that Jake called again, this time making sure that he heard him.
“Son? Lo’ak?” said boy raised his head with a perplexed look, and Jake noticed how his food was basically untouched.
“Yes sir?”
“We’re riding our Ikrans after dinner.” Jake repeated, setting his plate to the side before nodding at Neytiri as a way of thanking her for the food.
“We?” the boy looked at his brother, unsure if he was hearing his father correctly.
“You and I, son.” Lo’ak grew nervous at this. He and his father weren’t on best terms most of the time given how their personalities clashed with one another, but he thought that giving it a try wouldn’t hurt anybody.
“Okay dad.”
After a poor attempt at finishing his food, Lo’ak finally decided to join his dad after hopping on his Ikran. He wasn’t entirely sure of what his father wanted to talk about but he hoped that it wouldn’t cause the two of them to start fighting as usual.
“You closed off on yourself,” Jake didn’t bother with trying to ease Lo’ak into the topic, he immediately pushed him inside. He could tell he caught his son off guard given the wide eyes and how his lips struggled to find the right words to say.
“And you’re not only hurting yourself but you’re also hurting people around you,” Jake wanted to see how far he could push his son before making him admit his obvious feelings for you, the one girl he and Neytiri were very sure that she was going to be their son’s future mate.
“I don’t have that many friends,” Lo’ak’s sarcasm could be sensed from miles away and Jake held back a sigh at how similar he and his son were. He hated that sometimes. seeing in his son a version of himself he was ready to bury.
“I’m glad that you’re acknowledging that (name) isn’t just a friend.” The eldest pushed his son a little further and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how nervous and awkward his son got.
“She is just a friend…”
“We’re definitely different when it comes to this,” Lo’ak raised his head at his father’s words, unsure of where he was going with this.
“I married your mom not long after I met her, didn’t have time for all this being in denial bullshit,”
“Mom wasn’t a childhood friend.”
“Yet I think if she was a childhood friend, it would’ve made me want to marry her even more.”
The beauty of growing up together, getting to tell the next generation that you’ve known who your soulmate was at a very young age is a privilege not a lot of people have, not when most Na’vi have their mates chosen for them. And Lo’ak was very much aware of that and yet he couldn’t help but think that no one would choose him, not when he was so… like himself.
“I just think…she can do better,” Sharing his biggest insecurity was challenging enough as it was, but doing so with his father felt rough on his heart strings. Lo’ak’s throat tightened up and suddenly he became hyperaware of his fast heartbeat and sweaty palms, wishing that he had chosen something else to say to save him from the discomfort he was feeling.
“Is that truly up to you to decide?” The boy blinked once then twice, trying to register the fact that pouring his heart out was easier than he anticipated. He couldn’t bring himself to formulate a sentence for a good ten seconds before he was looking away from Jake, the latter’s words finally getting to his head.
“Does it even matter if I let her decide?”
“Would you have wanted her to let you feel the same if roles were reversed?”
“Roles could never be reversed cause she isn’t a freak like me,” Lo’ak almost snapped back in response and he visibly tensed at how defensive he was getting.
“So you think she deserves better than some five fingered freak like yourself?” Jake was blunt as he responded, eyes boring into his son’s who could only nod in response, not catching onto the sarcasm lacing in his words.
“Seems like you don’t know her as well as you claim to do.” Jake dipped down with his Ikran and Lo’ak followed shortly after with his own companion, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the words coming out of his father’s mouth.
“Of course I do know her, she’s my best friend and I’m sure that she—“
“The reason why you like her so much is because she never cared about stuff like this. It’s been this way ever since you were a child, son.” Toruk Makto was now face to face with his son as their Ikrans came to a stop mid air. “For you to make her go through so much pain because you suddenly decided that she wanted to change her ways and morals is unfair in my opinion, both for her and yourself.”
“But to ruin the friendship—“
“Again, those are only assumptions you have made based off of pretty weak evidence—made up one since you didn’t even question her on whom has her attention or better yet, her heart.”
The picture was slowly coming together to Lo’ak now and the clearer it got, the more he realized just how badly he fucked up.
Three agonizing weeks of ignoring you, stopping himself from joining a conversation you were in and suspending any attempt you had thrown his way to hang out together, catch up and possibly ask him what was so wrong that he refused to talk to you.
Sure, it pained him so much but he knew how sensitive you were. In fact, he could tell from your big yellow eyes how deeply hurt you were everytime he rejected you, and Eywa, did it make his heart squeeze, almost shatter at the sight of tears brimming your vision.
Lo’ak knew he fucked up, and he could only pray to Eywa that he would be able to fix what could possibly cost him a friendship and perhaps his childhood sweetheart.
You had every right to be ignoring Lo’ak right now. That, he is totally aware of, and even knew that it was exactly what he deserved after ghosting you for no apparent reason.
But at this point, you were just torturing him.
Tonight, the Omaticaya decided that it was time to hold their weekly party at the end of the week, distressing and letting loose after a long week of hard work.
Those parties were fun, they were what everyone needed—what you needed most importantly and you weren’t going to deny it, you were looking forward to it even if it meant having to encounter Lo’ak since he was Toruk Makto’s son.
Things had started pretty well with everyone chatting and discussing thing such as how great of a leader Toruk Makto was, how they haven’t felt this safe in quite some time and that everything being under his control was something to be proud of as forest Na’vi.
And while Jake and Neytiri soaked in all the attention, the kids were doing their thing. Mostly chatting with their friends or in some cases, stalking some.
Lo’ak was aware of how creepy he looked just staring at you with an unwavering gaze but he was determined to have you lock eyes with him. If he wasn’t going to approach you, getting to see your eyes for the first time in a while would mean the world to him.
“You’re looking a bit menacing, brother.” Neteyam placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, staring in your direction as well with a small smile on his lips.
“Huh? Well, I guess it’s not menacing enough to have her look my way.” Lo’ak mumbled under his breath, earning a lighthearted chuckle from Neteyam who could only pat his shoulder before squeezing it.
“You don’t want to look menacing or creepy, you want to look apologetic.” Lo’ak glanced at Neteyam after hearing those words and he knew how right his brother was but how? how was he supposed to look more apologetic than he already feels?
“Just walk up to her and see what happens.” Yeah, easier said than done.
“I will tell you what will happen. I will go up there and make a fool of myself because one, I don’t really know what to tell her and two, she will ignore me either way and I absolutely deserve it after treating her like shit because of something she’s not even responsible of,”
Lo’ak was frustrated but he couldn’t exactly do anything about it or even let himself feel this frustration without guilt washing over him.
It must’ve been horrible for you. But enough of feeling bad for you, he knew that despite what could possibly happen, he still had to confront you one way or another.
“Good luck,” was all what Neteyam said before walking away to let his younger brother decide on what he was going to do.
Luck
“Shit, I’ll need plenty of that.” Lo’ak mumbled before heading towards you through the crowd.
You could see Lo’ak and Neteyam from the corner of your eyes, you weren’t blind or clueless. You knew the two were talking about you just based on their body language. How unsure Lo’ak seemed and how playful the older brother was being and despite the fact that you thought it was endearing, you were still very mad at Lo’ak, and rightfully so.
It took them a couple of minutes to finish their conversation before Lo’ak was walking towards you and in a state of panic, you let go of whatever was in your hand and started heading out of the crowd, to a more secluded area. Anything to get away from Lo’ak as soon as possible.
You didn’t dare to look back, footsteps fast and unfaltering as you walked deeper into the forest with Lo’ak right behind you. Maybe if you didn’t perceive him, he would magically disappear.
“If anything, you know I’m the fastest runner between you and I,” his voice was uncertain, as if he was testing waters while still half-chasing you and you completely ignored his words, very determined on getting him to get off your tail.
“Going deeper into the woods won’t make me lose sight of you,”
“Did your tail get prettier?” was he staring at your tail?
Lo’ak was taken aback when you abruptly came to a stop and whipped your head fast to look at him and he wishes he could take back every bad thing he’s done to you, he wishes he could undo the past few weeks but he can’t, and he certainly can’t erase the pain in your eyes, how utterly confused and broken you must be feeling now that he’s suddenly trying to talk to you again.
“Listen-“
“No, no- you will listen. Because clearly that’s not what you wanted to do for like a month.” Your index finger was almost in his face but he didn’t back away or flinch, he let you be as mad as you wanted to be.
“I didn’t do anything to deserve what you did to me. I was a good friend! I was patient and forgiving, I kept finding stupid excuses for your lame ass while you didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were openly ignoring me for whatever reason!”
Lo’ak could tell you weren’t breathing properly while talking, and he wanted to hold your face and get you to calm down but touching you seemed off the table right now.
“And you come back and tell me my tail looks prettier?”
“I was just-“
“I’m still talking.” Your stern voice made him seal his lips shut, but he couldn’t help how his heart leapt a little in his chest. He had to fight the smile that was forming on his lips because he really didn’t want you to think he wasn’t taking you seriously.
“I appreciate you telling me my tail looks prettier but that does not and will never compensate for how shitty you made me feel lately.” Your voice was less harsh and smaller. He could tell you were slowly letting the tough façade fall apart because you weren’t used to getting hurt this badly. It drained you so much having him hurt you like this, and it made Lo’ak drown deeper in the guilt.
“I know it won’t, but I promise it hurt me just as much.”
“Then why did you do it?” Eywa, he wishes he could tell you.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Then we cant be friends again.” Your response was quick and dry. Lo’ak felt like he was quickly losing you the more he spoke and that absolutely terrified him.
“No, you don’t get it. If I tell you, I will lose you.”
“Is there anything to lose at this point?” Lo’ak was starting to realize how badly he fucked up the moment you said this.
“Wha- of course there is?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he stared down at you and for the first time, you weren’t glaring at him. Your eyes were slowly filling up with tears, breathing getting quicker by the second.
Lo’ak reached his hands towards your face to test the waters and when you didn’t flinch or pull away, just kept your eyes locked with his, he knew just how badly you needed to be held.
“Oh I’m so terrible, aren’t I?” He almost cooed at you, hands holding your face with his thumbs caressing your cheeks and your little nod before blinking some tears away.
“So… so terrible.” you nuzzled against his hand, a hiccup escaping your lips as you held back a sob.
“Eywa,” Lo’ak whispered, stepping a little closer to you so he could rest his forehead against yours. “You mean so much to me and it’s… terrifying.”
Your confusion only pushed him to continue, his nose brushing against yours and suddenly you were aware of how close—how intimate the position you were in. But you didn’t mind, your heart was racing yet you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away this time.
“If I mean so much to you, why hurt me?” your voice was small, almost too afraid to speak louder and ruin the moment.
“I thought hurting you would get you to hate me,” Lo’ak swallowed hard, eyes focused on your lips before staring right back at yours once again. “and you would realize that you deserve someone better than me.”
“And you think you have the right to choose for me?” your hands slowly moved up towards his shoulders and at first, he thought you were going to push him away. It wasn’t until he felt you press your body closer before wrapping your arms around his neck that he realized that you were doing the complete opposite.
“I chose you—Eywa chose you for me, and she is never wrong.” And you were right. As if your skin glowing in the dark wasn’t already beautiful, the forest decided to bless your moment even further.
Seeds of the sacred tree were floating all around you both, the pure spirits giving Lo’ak the reassurance and the tiny push he needed to finally close the distance between you two.
Your breath hitched when you felt his lips brush against yours, but you were growing impatient with the small amount of hesitance left in him.
“Promise me that you won’t hurt me again,” your words were hushed, breath quickening when you felt him pull you in closer by your hips.
“I promise.” the stars illuminated the sky and the night was threatening to get colder. But when Lo’ak was pulling you impossibly closer, your cheeks flushed with heat. His fingers traced the skin on your hipbone before digging in harshly, your sharp intake of breath making his eyes wander down to your lips once again.
“It’s unfair…“ your whisper caught him off guard and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before they rose high when your hands slid down to caress his arms, gently moving towards his chest to rest your hands there. You looked up at him through your lashes, and if Lo’ak wasn’t aware of his feelings for you, he would think you were trying to make him fall deeper in love with every bit of you.
“What is unfair?”
“That you’re taking so long to kiss me,” your hands gently grabbed his face, holding his jaw to tilt his head down towards you. “I see you, Lo’ak.”
You didn’t need for him to say it in return—he wasn’t exactly able to with his lips pressed against yours in dizzying manner. You never thought you could grow more nervous around Lo’ak yet he seemed to have a knack for surprising you everytime, especially with his hands gripping the back of your thighs to pull you up and wrap your legs around his waist.
“I see—I see you too,” when he pulled away, panting from the kiss and eyes glazed with what appeared to be a mixture of lust and admiration, you could only squeeze your legs around his waist with a small smile.
“Already so out of breath?” your lips brushed against his nose in an endearing manner, fingers tracing his cheek to take in every little detail that made him who he is—yours.
“You dont know what you do to me,” he slowly backed you up against a tree, your cheeks flushing when you realized just how intimate the position you were in.
“Maybe I would like to find out,” Your teasing, your playful tone and your eyes that were clearly so lost in his, were constant reminders of how special he felt around you.
He, who had the honor of being your one and only, could only pray that Eywa approved of his love and devotion for you.
2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.
#avatar: way of water#loak fluff#loak x you#loak x reader#avatar x reader#loak fanfiction#loak angst#loak headcanons#loak imagine#avatar loak#loak x y/n#moon's works
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