I'm Good At Letting You Go (You Were Never The Enemy)
I'm Good At Letting You Go (You Were Never the Enemy)
part one
A/N: I didn't expect anyone to read the first part, but a few people did, so here we are. I thought publishing a one-shot might help my hyperfixation, and prevent me from seeing the movie a third time, but...again...here we are.
warnings: explicit language, blood and gore, allusions to violence involving guns
summary: the end and the beginning of your relationship with lo'ak
***
Loose cuffs trapped your wrists. You’d wriggle out of them once the guards turned their backs. And the ship would be easy enough to crawl through undetected. The head injury resulted in nothing but a mild throbbing in your skull. It was the inconvenience of having to escape that irked you, that made your fingers itch to get a hold of the gun pressed to your head so you could inconvenience your captors right back.
Revenge was not something you thirsted over often, but you became a lot less forgiving after you left the Metkayina clan a year ago.
(after you left Lo’ak)
The wreckage of your simple plan was not entirely your fault, though. There was another presence on the ship, something more violent than you, that caused an unaccounted-for influx of guards and updated security system that resulted in your capture.
The cells were on the bottom of the ship, and you sighed to yourself as you saw how much extra work it would take to climb back up undetected.
“Pretty hair,” one of the guards sneered, wrapping their fists in your strands and yanking. “I wonder how much it’d sell for.” Your steps faltered, neck jerked back, and you gave one last struggle to get away from them, but their grip on your arms was too tight, and you knew it was futile, so you let them drag you along, scalp aching.
Keeping a mental note of how many left and right turns you took, you were led down a winding hallway, stopped in front of a heavy door.
Shoved inside, you had a strong sense of déjà vu when you met eyes with the other prisoner in the cell.
Your steps faltered, something the soldiers behind you mistook for resistance. They shoved you forward, fastening your wrists to the bar next to Lo’ak.
“Hey, wait,” Lo’ak called after them when they turned to leave. “I’ll take a bullet to the brain, please.”
Heaving in a stuttering breath, you looked at the floor as the guards urged Lo’ak to be careful what he wished for. Then, the door opened and sealed shut, and the two of you were alone for the first time in months.
Silence spread between you, stifling you. Lo’ak was never one to keep his thoughts to himself, and you waited for his tongue-lashing, but it never came.
“It wasn’t easy.” You still weren’t looking at him, instead choosing to burn a hole in the wall. You had risked a few glances, though, comforted by the fact that he wasn’t looking at you, either. You did not want to be the victim of the hatred in his eyes. “Leaving, I mean. It wasn’t—” you cut yourself off with a sigh, frustrated at your lack of words.
How many times had you dreamed about being reunited with him? Granted, under more favorable circumstances, but you’d spent so long without him, thinking of him, wishing things were different. Wishing you could talk to him just one more time and explain yourself.
And now he was here, next to you, chained down so he literally had to listen to you, and you couldn’t figure out what to say.
“Seemed easy enough.”
The two of you exchanged a long glance.
You should’ve known that when you saw him again, it would not be full of warm embraces. It would be harsh words and cold shoulders.
“Leaving, I mean.” He mocked you with a shake of his head. Talking down to you, like he used to when you first met.
You were being honest.
When you joined the Sully’s on their journey, you told yourself not to get attached. This is only temporary, you repeated in your head, even as you taught Kirri what you knew about healing and let Tuk fall asleep on you at night. This is only temporary, you reminded yourself as Neteyam taught you hunting tricks and Neytiri put beads in your hair and Jake sharpened your knives for you and laughed when you showed him the records you’d collected.
I remember this one, he had said, eyes bright, turning the Britney Spears vinyl over in his hands. You should see the music video.
But somewhere along the way you’d forgotten just how fragile your situation was. Distracted by the feeling of finally having a family, of finally having people who would notice if you fell off the face of the earth, you forgot to repeat your mantra.
This is only temporary, you neglected to remind yourself as you showed Lo’ak around the little tree house you’d built near his birthplace, explaining your past through little polaroid’s hung on the wall.
This is only temporary, you forgot to whisper when the two of you laid on the back of Payakan, tracing constellations, spending the night drifting on the calm ocean waves.
Lulled into a false sense of security, you chipped away at the stone exterior you’d spent so long constructing, and just as you lowered your defenses, you were struck.
When you left, you told yourself it was only temporary.
At least, you wanted it to be.
But in the long year without him, without any of them, you were reminded why you left. You put a target on their back and returning would be cruel.
Lo’ak didn’t understand that, though, a fact made clear by his tense shoulders and clenched jaw.
You missed him.
Suddenly, you started tugging at your cuffs. You thought seeing him again would be easy. Maybe all that time apart made you delusional.
You slipped out of your restraints, reached into your boot, and gripped the small blade hidden there. Stepping towards him, he leaned back, as if he couldn’t stand you being close to him.
“Don’t,” he warned. “I don’t want anything from you.”
Staring at him, standing there like an idiot with the knife limp in your hand, you said, “you’re being ridiculous.”
He raised his eyebrows, scoffing. “I’m being ridiculous?” Clenching his fists, you were suddenly glad he was restrained. “You’re so fucking—” he cut himself off, and you were thankful, because you don’t think you could handle whatever he was about to call you. “Just get the fuck out. I never want to see you again.”
“I’m not leaving you here.”
“Funny. You seem to be really good at that.”
“Can we just focus on getting off of this ship and then we can—"
“You don’t get to pick and choose when you give a shit about me--”
“Would you just stop and listen--” You paced, directly in front of him, his face tilted back to look up at you, enraged.
“You left.”
His words cut through yours, and whatever you were about to say died on your tongue. The raggedness of his voice, the weariness in his eyes as he looked at you, this was not the same Lo’ak you walked away from.
There was no response from you. You did leave, you couldn’t negate that fact. It had been for his benefit, but you still left.
At the time, you convinced yourself that it wouldn’t matter. He was fine before you, then you were just a way to pass time and get comfort, and he’d be fine after you. Same with all the others.
It was a different kind of heartbreak. You’d convinced yourself that you were the only one mourning your loss. Looking at him now, you thought maybe that wasn’t the case.
The cell door swung open. You turned, half expecting a bullet, but instead you were greeted with a familiar face.
“Kiri,” you said in surprise as she said your name in the same tone, both of your eyes wide. She looked between her brother, the knife in your hand, and your face. She looked pale, as if she’d seen a ghost.
If Kiri was here, so was Tuk, and Neteyam, which meant their parents were probably also close by.
You retreated.
It made you a coward, turning tail and running at the first sign of conflict, but you’d fought against every single impulse to return to them, and facing Lo’ak’s disappointment alone was too much to bear. You couldn’t face all of them.
“1657 is the security code,” you told her, gesturing to the side of the cell. “Punch it in and the door will open.”
Kiri was still staring at you, motionless. Your impatience snapped. “Now, Kiri. Please.”
The doors slid open; a suction of air released. There was no barrier between you now. In your head, your reunion with her was full of smiles and laughter.
You brushed past her in silence and dropped the knife on the ground in front of her. “In case you need it,” you jerked your head towards Lo’ak. “For him.”
You didn’t look back, knowing it’d be much harder if you did. You regretted seeing him at all, and wished you never had.
Before, your last memory of him was on that tiny island.
Now, the last thing you’ll remember of him will be his harsh words and resentful eyes.
A long time ago, your first meeting had been under similar circumstances.
Laying in the darkest corner of the cave, you woke groggily, as if you’d been drugged. You blinked, head aching, your cheek pressed to something wet. Your own blood, you assumed, judging by the metallic smell and taste in your mouth.
A loose knot restrained your hands in front of you, and although you felt like you’d been put through the ringer, it was easy enough to pick. With weak arms, you pushed yourself up, swaying. You pressed a hand to the cave wall to steady yourself. Whatever happened to you, you must’ve lost a lot of blood as a result.
You took a few staggering steps, trying your best to keep yourself quiet.
The sound of arguing around a bend in the cave covered your clumsiness.
“We have to call this in.”
“Are you kidding? We’ll be slaughtered.”
“It’ll be worse if we don’t tell him, and then he finds out later.”
“I’ll be murdered. Violently.”
“You exaggerate.”
“And what do you think they’ll do to her? What if they kill her.”
“They won’t.”
“We don’t know that.”
Back pressed to the cold stone, you listened. You only heard two different voices. Two captors were manageable. Two captors you could sneak past and avoid a fight. In your weakened state, you would be no match for even the kindest of creatures.
Just as you’d lifted your foot to slink through the shadows, a third voice interrupted. You grit your teeth, mood soured, and retreated again.
“I say we talk to her first.”
“Who knows if we even speak the same language.”
“She looked pretty bad when you brought her here. I should go check on her, make sure she’s still alive.” The female voice sounded kind, but at the mention of her coming to look for you, you panicked.
In a perfect world, you’d have a weapon to defend yourself. But this was Pandora, and whoever dragged you to this cave was smart enough to confiscate anything you could’ve used to hurt them.
There was more bickering between them as you wrestled with yourself, deciding whether you should make a run for the opening of the cave (which would be more like a very brisk walk, in your state).
Except you had no idea where you were. It could be more dangerous outside of the cave than inside.
Before your mind caught up with your actions, you stepped around the bend in the cave, making yourself known to the others.
The girl saw you first. She paused mid-step, falling back on her heel as her eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise.
She was Omaticayan, evident by her tail and color. There was another boy with her, too, also belonging to the same clan. The sky person threw you off guard, his shock clear through the mask he wore on his face.
Even though they had a few inches on you in height, and more muscle, the fact that they seemed to be similar in age leveled the playing field a bit.
A long stretch of silence followed your appearance as they sized you up, just as you’d been doing to them. You imagined how horrifying you looked. Hair matted to your face with dried blood, cuts and deep bruises along your body and face, voice rasped. “Do I need to worry about you killing me?”
Your question shocked them out of their stupor.
“How did you get free from the rope?”
The avoidance of your question set you on edge, and your shoulders tensed. “The knot was loose.”
The Na’avi boy punched the human boy in the arm. “I told you to tie that shit tighter.”
“I didn’t want to cut off her circulation!”
“Do I have to worry about you trying to kill me?” you reiterated your question, louder this time, though your voice still cracked.
“No,” the girl spoke, placing a hand over her chest. “We were just—”
“I saved your life.”
The girl closed her eyes and sighed when the Omaticayan boy spoke, and you looked over her shoulder at him.
Wracking your brain, you tried to remember needing to be saved. But you were drawing up blank, and that disadvantage frustrated you. He could be lying, and you’d have no way of knowing.
“How long have I been here?”
He scoffed, inching a few steps forward. “You know, usually people say, ‘thank you’ when someone goes out of their way to keep them from dying.”
“Lo’ak—” the girl hissed, turning her face to give him a warning glance.
He raised his hands limply in self-defense, giving her a boyish grin and a halfhearted shrug. “I’m just saying.” He looked at you again. “Maybe they do things differently where you’re from.”
Based on the way you looked, it was evident you were not native to the forest. Your hair a stark white, even underneath the blood stains. Skin a lighter shade of blue, smaller than them.
The girl turned back to you with an exasperated look. “Ignore him. We’re not going to kill you.”
Still on edge, you took a step back to put some distance between yourself and the rest of them. She placed a hand on her chest, sensing your discomfort. “My name’s Kiri.” She jerked her head towards the human boy. “That’s Spider.”
Despite yourself, your lips quirked. “Spider?”
Cheeks tinted red, he explained the lore behind his name, but you were only half-listening, still trying to hatch an escape plan.
You didn’t realize he’d stopped speaking until they were all staring at you expectantly. “Oh,” you said, swallowing thickly. You told them your name since it was only fair.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” Kiri smiled, and you could tell she wanted to ask questions. They all did, you could see it in their curious glances. An interrogation was exactly the situation you wanted to avoid.
Your eyes flicked down to the girl’s arm, where she pressed a white cloth to her forearm. It was dripping, splattering on the cave floor.
Finally, a way out.
“I can treat that.” You nodded towards her injury.
“We’re headed back to our home soon. They can patch me up there.”
“You should come with us,” Lo’ak interjected, stepping forward again. You eyed him.
Supposedly, he saved your life. You’ve never even met him before, and doubted it was true. Kiri and Spider seemed a bit more hesitant than he was, aware of the fact that none of you knew each other. Lo’ak seemed at ease, though. Shoulders relaxed, eyes bright and trusting, like he was searching for something within in you.
Too close, an alarm rang in your head. You made a mental note to keep an eye on him.
“You’ll lose a lot more blood if you wait. I can stitch it up in just a few minutes. Where are we?”
Their curiosity got the better of them. You followed them outside, blinking in the bright sunlight, eyes sore from sleep and having adjusted to the darkness of the cave.
You were near some sort of wreckage. A small ship crashed in a clearing a few hundred feet from the opening of the cave. “We found this place after we got caught in a storm one day.” Spider moved just as quickly as his Na’avi friends; you noted as he spoke to you. “Pretty cool, right?”
Scouring through the rubble, you popped a drawer and found a medic kit inside. Cracking it open, you told Kiri to sit. Her brothers did as well, watching intently. Lo’ak had a hand near his sheath, the handle of a blade glinting in the light. Your eyes flicked from his weapon to his face, and you turned away when you saw him watching you just as intently.
It was a standard cut. Deeper than most, hence the extreme bleeding, but not fatal. You’d collected plants outside, familiar leaves that would sedate the pain. You talked to her about what you were doing, figuring it would put her more at ease. She talked back, seemingly knowing a few things about healing herself.
“I’ve never seen anyone use this stitching pattern before.” When you finished, she held her arm up, eyes glistening with unshed tears, observing your technique.
“Since the wound was so deep, I used a tighter stitch. The thread won’t dissolve on its own, so in a few weeks you’ll have to get them removed.” You shut the kit, returning it to the drawer. “Don’t mess with it and you’ll be fine.”
You were feeling better, stronger, than you were when you woke up. You turned towards the window, suddenly. “I think someone’s coming,” you told them, and they all turned away from you to peer out the window.
When they turned back, you were gone.
Lo’ak couldn’t believe they fell for something so stupid. On the trek back home, he kept shaking his head at himself. “I mean, it’s so fucking dumb.”
“How about we leave that part out when we tell mom and dad. It’s too embarrassing.” Kiri ran her fingers over her new stitches.
“We’ll just say we let her go. It’s technically not a lie,” Spider added.
But his parents didn’t buy it for one second.
The three of them stood in front of thir family, telling their story with sweeping hand movements and talking over each other, only to be met with silence and narrowed eyes. Neteyam biting his lip to keep from grinning, Tuk complaining that she hadn’t been invited along on the adventure.
“So, what I’m hearing,” his father turned away from where he’d been kindling his fire. “Is that you got caught in the middle of someone else’s fight, endangered your life by entering that fight, got Kiri injured, saved someone’s life, and then, after giving Kiri stitches, they just vanished.”
“Yes,” Lo’ak said. “That’s exactly what happened.”
Neteyam couldn’t muffle his laugh, though he went through a dramatic effort to disguise it as a cough. Lo’ak didn’t appreciate it, narrowing his eyes at his older brother.
“Spider and Kiri were there. They can corroborate my story.”
“It’s true,” Spider interjected.
Kiri nodded. He knew his father would be hesitant to believe him or Spider, justifiable on most occasions but a nuisance in this case, so Kiri was their chance at convincing him. “She was running from these people—they had guns, I think they kidnapped her—and she went right over the edge of this cliff. If Lo’ak hadn’t caught her, she would’ve fallen to her death.”
Lo’ak straightened his shoulders.
That’s right. He did that.
Good for him.
“And she knew a lot about healing! We talked for a bit about herbal remedies and different stitching methods. She taught me a different way to close a wound, which will be useful.” Kiri displayed her cut for her parents to see, though it seemed to have a negative reaction. Neytiri’s ears flattened, and his father’s jaw clenched. Kiri kept talking, too caught up in her story to notice. “She had this beautiful white hair—”
Neytiri’s hands slipped from where she was skinning some fruit, the knife clattering to the dirt. Eyes wide, she looked up at her daughter. “White, like atokirina?”
Kiri nodded enthusiastically.
Confused, Lo’ak shared a glance with his father. “Do you recognize her?” he asked, turning away from his precious fire.
“They’re from the arctic regions in the North,” Neytiri explained. “Natural born healers. The entire tribe is peaceful, a safe haven for the injured. Their hair is white because they’re thought to be like atokirina, seeds from the Tree of Souls.”
The three kids went silent, considering the new information.
“So, is she like, a spirit?” Lo’ak asked lamely.
“A descendent of one.”
He and Spider leaned across Kiri to punch each other in the shoulders, laughing. “Bro, you saved the life of a spirit.”
“She should’ve stuck around longer. Maybe she would’ve granted me a wish or something.”
Kiri rolled her eyes, pressing her hands to their chests and pushing them away from her. “You’re both so stupid.”
“Hey, Kiri, maybe she healed you with magic.” Lo’ak grabbed her forearm to observe the stitches more closely, but she ripped her arm out of his grip.
“Don’t touch me, asshole.”
“Language,” Jake piped.
“You’re very lucky,” Neytiri went back to skinning her fruit, occasionally cutting off a slice when Tuk tugged at her arm.
“I’m the one who saved her life, she’s the lucky one.”
Spider snickered, and Kiri shook her head. “You can be such a dick, Lo’ak.”
“Language!”
The conversation shifted over dinner, but Lo’ak’s mind strayed to the healer. He had seen you fight, before you went over the edge of the cliff. It was vicious. The snap of a neck, a bullet between the eyes. You didn’t seem like a healer, or a spirit. More like a desperate animal gnawing off their own leg to escape a snare.
Who were those people, and why were they after you?
And the fear in your eyes when you saw them in the cave. He equated spirits with power and calmness. Gentle. You seemed to be anything but as you stood in front of him, dripping in blood.
His curiosity got the best of him. After the rest of his family dozed off, he slipped away, the silver moonlight filtering through the trees and lighting his path as he returned to the cave.
It’s not like he was expecting you to still be there, but he let out a long sigh and his shoulders slumped when he saw that the area was empty and untouched. Exactly how they left it.
“So dumb,” he muttered to himself as he kicked a rock, cursing himself for falling for your stupid trick earlier.
The cave was a lot scarier at night, a deep void that light from the stars couldn’t penetrate. He slid into the shadows, remembering how fast his heart was pounding as he brought you to where Spider was helping Kiri apply pressure to your wound.
“Look what I found.”
You hung limp over his shoulder. You’d already lost consciousness when he caught you on his Ikra, though you’d woken a few times, struggling in his grip. It was easy for him to keep you restrained, and your weak hands pressing against him did little to loosen his grip on you. You fell back under again and didn’t wake up.
Kiri looked at him like he’d been the one to put you in that state. “What did you do.”
He hoisted you back over his shoulder, gently putting you back on the ground. “Hey, a little appreciation would be nice. If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t be breathing.”
They debated on what to do with you. Hide you under some leaves, wait for you to come-to on your own. Take you back to his family. After a solid fifteen minutes of arguing, they settled for tying your hands and waiting for you to regain consciousness before making any other decisions regarding you.
And then you used the easiest trick in the book to get them to look away for one moment, just one millisecond, and you were gone.
“Where the fuck did she go?” he’d asked, standing up so quickly he nearly knocked himself off his feet.
“She was just here.” Spider spun in a circle, as if you were hiding in a cabinet.
Kiri stifled her laugh. “I can’t believe we fell for that.”
And, yeah. Maybe Lo’ak wanted to talk to you more. It’d been so long since he’d met someone new. Not to mention, your situation seemed exciting. Running from men with guns, able to hold your own in a fight, a healer. Who were you? He wanted to know.
Pulled out of the memory by something sharp underneath his foot, Lo’ak jumped back. He bent down, scooping the object up in his hands. It was a necklace.
He’d never seen it before, and he turned it over in his hands as he hoisted himself into a tree and rested on a branch. Holding it up to the light, he squinted at it, trying to discern where it came from.
Maybe it was yours.
The thought ignited a flicker of hope. If it was yours, it was probably meaningful to you, and you might come back for it.
He found a hollowed-out log close enough to the cave and set the jewelry inside. Somewhere easy enough for you to find, but difficult for an animal to get to.
Days passed. Neteyam didn’t believe him.
“I’m not calling you a liar,” his older brother said as he pulled his bow string taught, aiming at the pool at the bottom of the waterfall. He let the arrow fly. “But I am saying you’re delusional.”
“Scared I’m going to take your place as the mighty warrior of the family?” Lo’ak laid back on the rock, tilting his face towards the warm sun. “I mean, how many spirits have you rescued?”
“She’s not a spirit; she’s the descendant of one.” Neteyam grabbed the fish he hunted, adding it to his collection. “Are you going to help me at all or just scare off all the prey?”
Lo’ak ignored him. “If she lives all the way up North, how’d she get here?” he shook his head, musing. “I bet it’s a good story.”
Neteyam sighed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes up towards the sky. “Too bad you’ll never get to hear it.” He threw a dead fish at Lo’ak, laughing when his brother rolled away from it, jumping after him.
But deep down, it bothered Lo’ak that no one believed him, Kiri, and Spider. He was telling the truth. And he had to prove it.
“She’s not here,” Spider complained.
“I just want to see.”
Always willing to participate in Lo’ak’s antics, he knew Spider was curious about you, too. And when the two of them peered into the hollowed log, they found your necklace was not there.
His heart kicked in excitement. “See! See!” he did a victory lap, jogging around the small clearing and whooping in victory. He stopped and pointed at the empty place where the necklace used to be. “I’m telling you! You saw the state she was in. She couldn’t have gone far.”
“An animal could’ve taken it.”
Lo’ak shook his head. “No. She was here.”
They both looked up at the trees, as if you’d reveal yourself. They observed every inch of their surroundings, checking for tracks or other lost belongings, but you left no trace behind besides the missing necklace.
Lo’ak rode that high for several more days. He checked back every afternoon, sometimes alone, other times bringing Kiri or Spider, and Tuk on one occasion. He knew you were still hiding in his forest. Between the leaves, hiding just outside his peripheral. If he could figure out a way to coax you out, get you to show yourself just one more time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
And then he could rub it in his family’s face.
See? he’d tell them, brandishing you like a sword. I’m not crazy!
But his best efforts were futile. No matter how much plotting he did, trying to lure you out with food or other bait, you never bit down on his hook. He grew frustrated.
And then Tuk got sick.
Like, really sick.
Even Mo’at looked worried as she cared for his little sister, Neytiri and Jake doing little other than staying at her bedside.
Lo’ak’s outings to the cave became reprieve from the sick den and the suffocating grief of his family. When he went out alone, he would talk to you. Tell you what was going on in his life. Before, it was mundane things. Like how Spider tried to make an ambitious jump and ate absolute shit in the process. Or how his father taught him how to use a gun and throw a punch.
But now Tuk knocked at death’s door, and he had no idea if she would be turned away or let inside, and he started talking about that instead. He didn’t know if you were listening. He swore up and down that he could feel you, a second heartbeat assisting his own, but he had nothing to show for it besides that one incident.
He escaped one afternoon after he saw Kiri crying, unable to take the emotional weight placed on his family. Lo’ak paced around the clearing, breathing heavy, looking up at the trees. “If you’re there,” he started, angry, “just give me a goddamn sign.”
No response, but a soft breeze through the leaves.
“Some fucking healer you are,” he taunted before he left.
That night, he laid awake next to Tuk, and regretted yelling at you. As if you were even there to hear him.
Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow is the last day I’ll go back. After that, I’ll let it go.
It was a bad morning for Tuk. She wouldn’t stop coughing, her blood staining the handkerchief.
He stomped the whole way back to the site. He was mad again. He ripped back the leaves he used to cover the hollow log, bracing himself for another wave of disappointment.
His fury dissipated in the air.
A scratch piece of paper read “For your little sister. Take one each day. Mix with honey to help with the taste.” Next to the note laid a collection of small vials, all filled with a deep green liquid.
“It could be poison.” Mo’at shook her head, shoving the vial away. “Too risky.”
“It’s not,” Lo’ak promised, unable to look at where Tuk lay.
“How can you be sure?”
He would’ve launched into the whole story, but his grandmother was a tough nut to crack, and telling her it was a mystery vial left in a log might not be the best approach.
“She’s going to die if we don’t do something.” He set the supposed medicine on the table. “This is our only option.”
His parents mulled it over. Neytiri eyed the vial, holding it up to the light. Jake rested a comforting hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder. “Are you absolutely sure she’s the one that left this?”
She, meaning you. Lo’ak nodded. He could feel it, as sure as Eywa’s presence.
Jake and Neytiri shared a look. His grandmother pursed her lips.
The first day brought no noticeable improvements.
By the third day, Tuk could open her eyes again.
On the tenth day, she spoke for the first time in a month.
By the last vial, she was herself again.
“Gross,” she wrinkled her nose at the smell. Even mixed with honey, it tasted bitter, and she’d grown tired of it.
“Last one,” Neytiri promised, arm wrapped around her youngest.
The weight over his family lifted.
Throughout Tuk’s healing process, he didn’t have the time to return to the cave. But once all the vials were empty, he collected them and raced with Kiri back to the site.
He kept one, hoping its absence would be enough to make you reveal yourself. After setting them in the log, he hesitated before leaving.
“I don’t think we’re ever going to actually see her again,” Kiri told him as they shared lunch in the clearing.
“We don’t know that.”
“If she hasn’t shown herself yet, I doubt she wants to.” She peeled an orange, handing him a slice.
He shrugged. “Who knows.” Spoken with a smile, there was no doubt in his mind that he could find a way to get you to reveal yourself again. He just had to be smart about it, trick you into making a mistake.
Lo’ak left a note with the vials. “You still owe me for saving your life.”
The debt was more than repaid, considering you’d brought Tuk back from the brink of death. But you didn’t need to know that. Kiri gave him a flat look when he placed the note inside the log, shaking her head at him. “I think she’s smarter than that.”
Lo’ak shushed her with a finger to his lips. “She could be listening.” He pointed up towards the trees with a grin.
Kiri narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t shush me.”
They bickered the entire way home.
A weird sort of trading system began. Lo’ak still liked to talk to you when he visited alone, and he found the objects you left for him in the log corresponded with his stories sometimes.
A tiny knife, useful for skinning fish and picking out their tiny bones when he mentioned he was having trouble with that.
A thread and needle when he mentioned Kiri wanted practice replicating your stitching patterns.
A bunch of bright orange leaves when he told you about how one of his friends pierced his own ears and it got infected, accompanied with more instructions. “Chew and place on the piercing. Make sure to disinfect the needle next time.”
He left things for you, too. It was harder, since you weren’t talking to him, and he knew nothing about you. But he tried.
Tuk liked making jewelry when she wasn’t busy annoying the shit out of Lo’ak. He left bracelets, earrings, anklets, and necklaces in the place of whatever you left for him.
Hair combs cast aside by others. He picked things off of the sky people’s ship. Stuff that wasn’t interesting to him, but maybe you would like it, and no one would miss it, so there was no harm done.
But, in typical Lo’ak fashion, he grew impatient.
He’d more than proved that he wasn’t a threat, he thought. The trading was fun, and it was exciting to have something to constantly think about. He was always on the lookout for things you might like. But it would be a lot more fun if you would just show yourself and return with him to his home. Then you could find things together, and he wouldn’t feel like an idiot, talking to himself all the time.
With each new trade, his curiosity only intensified.
“I have to know who she is,” Lo’ak explained one day when he dragged Neteyam and Spider out to the site.
“I don’t think she feels the same about you, little brother.”
“You don’t get it.”
Today was the day, he decided that morning. He’d been cooking up a plan. It was his turn to put something in the log, which meant you’d have to come out and get it. Your trades grew more frequent, there was something new every day now.
It was exciting. And frustrating. You were right there, so close to him, and still so far out of reach. He wouldn’t be able to rest until he saw you again, he decided. Then maybe he could let this weird hyper fixation on you and your life go. But he had to have at least one more conversation with you, first.
This trade was valuable. At least, he thought so. Medical supplies his father brought back after visiting his military friends. State-of-the-art gauze and disinfectants and tourniquets.
There’s no way you’d be able to resist coming out to grab it. And when you did, they’d be there, hidden in the foliage.
“And what are you going to do when she comes out?” Neteyam asked. “Catch her in a net? Spring out at her like a predator?”
“No,” Lo’ak countered.
“You haven’t thought that far ahead, have you?”
Spider laughed at that and Lo’ak gave him a look of betrayal. Spider was supposed to be on his side, not Neteyam’s.
“Of course, I have,” he lied. “But we’re getting close, and she could be listening, so no more talking about the plan.”
Neteyam and Spider snickered, though they heeded his request and made a covering of leaves and plants while he grabbed what you’d left for him in the log. A collection of arrows, the nice ones, crafted with care.
A gift for his mother.
He wondered if you’d made them yourself, or found them, or did someone give them to you. Shaking his head when his imagination drifted again, he focused on the task a hand.
Joining his coconspirators under their cover, they shed their knives in a pile behind them. “If we’re covered in weapons when she sees us again, she’ll run.”
“I think she’s going to run anyways.”
They whispered back and forth, arguing for a few moments, before falling silent.
Hours passed.
They each grew restless, dramatically overestimating their ability to be quiet and still for such a long period of time. They gossiped about their family, other members of the Omaticayan tribe, whether a mountain banshee or a hammerhead titanothere would win in a fight.
The original plot was to stay awake through the night.
The three of them fell asleep within a few hours of darkness.
Startled awake by a branch breaking close by, they jerked back into consciousness. Pushing himself up, Lo’ak cursed, abandoning the cover of the leaves, and rushed for the log.
“Wait,” Neteyam hissed after him. “It could be dangerous.”
But Lo’ak didn’t care, peering inside. Blowing out a long sigh, he turned back to his friends, who stood on either side of him, also looking in. “It’s still there.”
Neteyam shook his head and trudged back to the makeshift blind. “This is pointless. We’re not going to catch her.”
Lo’ak lifted his head, looking through the trees ahead. It was dark, the forest alive with bugs chirping and birds fluttering about overhead. Spider placed a hand on his shoulder. “We can try again some other time.”
“Yeah,” Lo’ak replied, but he didn’t bother to hide the disappointment in his voice.
Neteyam’s voice cut through the noise of the woods around them. “Spider, did you grab our knives?”
“No, I just left them where they were, right behind us.”
Another beat of silence, and then Neteyam was laughing. “Well, I think your friend decided to pay us a visit after all.”
Lo’ak and Spider joined him by their camp, staring at the place where their knives used to be.
They were stolen.
Lo'ak froze. Spider joined in the laughter.
“It’s not funny!” Lo’ak snapped, which only caused them to laugh harder. “Shut up! It’s not funny!”
Neteyam nudged him, smiling wide. “She’s smarter than you, bro.”
“Smarter than you, too,” he countered, shoving Neteyam back with a hiss.
Lo’ak couldn’t believe it.
At first, your little game was cute.
Exciting, even.
But now Lo’ak clenched his fists at his side, muscles tense, filled with the urge to break something.
He couldn’t believe this. They turned their backs for one second, again, and you’d struck. He was certain you were watching now, laughing down at him.
Turning over his shoulder, he stomped back over to the log. “Whatever,” he called back to Neteyam and Spider. “I’m taking this back.”
Except, when he reached in to grab the medicine kit, that was gone, too.
“No way,” he drawled, staggering back as if he’d been shocked. When Neteyam and Spider asked him what happened, he was so angry, he didn’t even answer.
Spider reached inside, eyes light with curiosity. “Well, shit." He pulled out two knives.
“She’s fast,” Neteyam remarked, sliding his knife back into his holder. “Don’t worry, skxawng, I’m sure she’ll return yours soon enough.” He and Spider snickered, and Lo’ak decided he had to fight them both.
Even his dad got a kick out of the story. “Seems like you’ve met your match,” he said with a wink, Neytiri hiding a smile behind a sip of her tea.
How could you have gotten the best of them two times in one night, in the span of ten minutes?
His anger fueled him for several days. His sleep was fitful, full of tossing and turning. He ranted about you to everyone who would listen, until even Spider grew tired of him.
“Just let it go, man,” he told Lo’ak one day. “It’s never going to happen.”
And to rub salt in the wound, you stopped trading with him entirely.
For all he knew, the incident with the knives was the last interaction you two would ever have.
The thought devastated him more than it should’ve. How could he be this dejected over someone he’d only had one conversation with? Who had bruised his ego and gotten the best of him several times now?
Time passed. Instead of the gaping wound you used to be, you became a scab he picked at. He occasionally still visited the site but didn’t have much time for it after the sky people returned with a vengeance.
Which is how he ended up with his knees shoved into the wet dirt, a gun pressed to the back of his skull.
“Leave the others here.” Lo’ak guessed this fool was the leader, judging by the way he listed off commands and his spineless cronies followed suit like puppets on a string. He gestured towards Lo’ak with a flippant wave of his hand. “Take that one to the cells.”
“No, Lo’ak,” Kiri gasped, his siblings struggling against their restraints. He fought the panic of being separated from them but could do little to stop it from happening. His parents and Neteyam were on their way, and knowing his mother, he’d be free in an hour.
Lo’ak kept a steady stream of insults flowing as they guided him through the ship, calling the soldiers every name in the book. It didn’t help him, though it did make him feel better, and the guards only grew more violent as they opened the cell and shoved him inside.
He whirled on them, as if he could run out before the door sealed shut, but it was too late. He kicked at the clear door, his hands still restrained in front of him, cursing.
“That’s not going to help.”
The interruption shocked him. He hadn’t noticed anyone else in the cell, distracted by the soldiers that imprisoned him.
But he’d recognize your voice anywhere.
More Posts from Ijustwannareblogstuff and Others
today I'm showcasing a bunch of mods that I have been recently using to enhance my gameplay
download links
functional skincare mod (early access) by qmbibi
functional bodycare by qmbibi
razor default replacement by largetaytertots
functional perfume and cologne by qmbibi
bathroom clutter kit becomes functional by cepzid creation
build skills with earbuds by mizoreyukki
airpods 2 default replacement by @nuribatsal
brand new bedsheets by llazyneiph
laundry default replacements (1) (2) by largetaytertots
tidy pods by @diabolicalsims
visible hidden needs by zero's sims 4 mods
watermate waterbottle recolor by @yuroge
walk normal by mizoreyukii
sponge father default replacement by @apricotrush
customizable standing idle by zero's sims 4 mods
functional magazines by largetaytertots
fenty beauty makeup override by @myxdollyt
noctium gym by @rhdweauni0
entrance fee on community lots by @littlemssam
flowfit by @simrealist
let's get fit modpack by cepzid creation
sunrise alarm clock by lot51
sunrise alarm clock recolor by @blarffy
habit (a morning routine) mod by triplis
waking up animation overhaul by @littlemssam
youtube / tiktok / twitch / patreon / gallery id: largetaytertots
Happy 800! As much as I love dressing up, I do love a dressing down even more. So hows about soft fluffy smut in old t-shirts and tea-stained shorts, and tom finding you absolutely beautiful anyway? 💕
Ugh fluffy smut is my favorite 😩
18+ Warnings: SMUT, soft smut though, protected sex, hand holding, forehead kisses
800 Thirst Night - Inbox
Tom has you on the bed, back against the headboard and legs spread wide. Your old shorts from who knows how long ago discarded on the floor next to the bed.
Tom’s never been a boob guy so not taking off your shirt has become a regular thing; though you can’t imagine how he could be into you with the old ripped tee covering his view.
He’s noticed your hesitation as he slid in between your legs; he’d just finished rolling the condom down his length and was lined up with your entrance.
“Darling?” he asked gently, “what’s wrong?”
“I just don’t know how you could like this outfit, thought you would’ve ripped it off immediately,” you whispered.
“No, no, no,” he soothed, “love you in anything,” he smiled, “you’re always beautiful to me.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “still wanna go ahead?” he asked against your temple.
“Yeah,” you smiled, feeling him push inside as soon as the word left your mouth.
You felt his breathy moan against your skin, your hand finding his now free one and locking on for dear life.
He started to thrust slowly, savoring your body, “love you, always,” he whisper-moaned.
“Love you too,” you breathed back before finding his lips with yours.
╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮
— fuck his brains out
╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯
In which you pretend not to know your boyfriend is Kick-Ass. maybe OOC characters, I got a little carried away, and maybe mixed timeline, I haven't watched the movies in a while... Also, Dave x Mean! reader because who doesn't love that?
𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪
“I think Kick-Ass is hotter,” you look over at Dave, licking your ice cream almost teasingly. “If I had the chance, I’d fuck his brains out.”
Dave blushed madly, rubbing his cheeks before you stand and tug on his arm. “Dave, I think we should start heading out. You’re walking me home, right?”
Dave nodded quickly, as you thought that it was best because you had been taking care of him since his injury or said that because it had been a while. “Y-Yeah! I will, I’m coming.”
He waved at his friends as you tugged him out, throwing away the napkin that previously held your ice cream cone away. “I mean it,” you said abruptly, smiling over as you held his hand. “I would fuck him so hard he wouldn’t be able to talk.”
“W-Would you?” Dave finally speaks, looking over at you as you smiled.
“Hell yeah I would.”
Later that night, Mindy stared at him as he fixed his mask. “This isn’t a good idea, Dave."
In all seriousness, he really thought she would fight him to make him stay. What he was doing was stupid, but he was about to get laid. By you. The most beautiful girl in the world.
"This," he grinned back at her. "Is an amazing idea. I'm going to get laid so fucking hard."
"What if she wants to take off your mask?"
"She won't."
"What if she recognizes your voice?"
He paused, then smiled. "When I'm nervous, my voice gets higher. She won't recognize it. I'll see you later!"
He ran out, quickly going to your home. How was he going to get in? Would he sneak in through the window you always had unlocked that was right next to your dresser? Or would he throw rocks at your window, begging for you to let him up so you could fuck him?
He started to panic, how the hell would he sneak into your house?
In nervousness, he paced in the back alleyway behind your house before his phone buzzed, your name blaring on the screen.
Y/N 8:57PM come in through the window ;)
It made him pause before he looked at your window, gasping as you stared at him with your body lit in light of your bedside lamp. He could see your bright smile as you gave him a small wave, a gulp echoing through the alley as you opened up the window a bit and leave it open with a hairbrush.
He inhaled deeply as he slowly jumped over the fence, climbing up the tree that led up to the window, easily slipping through after pushing it up before carefully pushing it down. He gasped as he looked back, staring at his reflection through the mirror from where you sat in front of your vanity.
"It's slightly... perverted to sneak into a woman's house, right?" Your fingers rubbed moisturizer into your face like he had seen you do in the nights he slept over. "Dave knows that, but I'm assuming Kick-Ass doesn't."
Dave cleared his throat, pushing his hands to cover the front of his suit, specifically over his crotch. He loved it when you said his name. "I-I uhm... you know Dave as well? I know Dave too."
He watched as you giggled. "I do know Dave, very well. But something's telling me you know him a little better than I do."
He swallowed, humming before making his voice deeper. “I-I’ve known Dave a long time… Y/N.”
“Have you now?” You stood, slowly walking over and swaying your beautiful hips before you stood in front of him. “How long?”
“M-My whole life.”
You giggled as he slowly stepped forward to meet you in the middle, your fingers trailing down his chest as you pressed firm kisses wherever your fingers went and you slowly got down on your knees, your skimpy lingerie-like pajamas. "Did Dave ever tell you what I want to do to you, Kick-Ass? Hm?"
He whimpers, his false persona of confidence never even giving the chance to rise as you kissed over the bulge that he tried to hide. "H-He did... oh fuck, he did."
"Oh, well he didn't have to tell you, right? You knew it because you are Dave, right?" You licked over the material of his suit.
His head lulled back as he nodded, groaning. "R-Right, fucking hell, please! Please, please don't stop."
You scoffed as you stood, pressing your finger to his chest. "I knew it! I knew it, you bastard, why would you keep that from me?! Did you like me gushing over your alter ego?!"
He gasped as you shoved him, a groan falling from your lips. "What? No! No, of course not!"
"For fuck's sake, Dave! What, you're such a virgin that you loved the thought of some girl talking about her fantasies with your alter ego?! Fuck you!" You groaned as you sat on your bed, covering your face to hold back your smile. This had to work.
"No! No, of course not, of course not! I'm sorry, I am so sorry," he whined as he kneeled in front of you, holding your knees. "Please, you have to understand..." He takes off his mask, whimpering as he stared up at you. "I did it to keep you safe. I didn't... I don't want you to be a target."
You inhale deeply as you pulled your hands away from your face, glaring down at him. "You promise?"
"I promise."
He inhaled deeply as you squeezed his face, raising a brow. "Well then, what are you going to do to make it up to me?"
He paused, clearing his throat as you ran your fingers through his hair. "Wh-Whatever you want me to," he whispers, swallowing loudly. "Whatever you want me to do."
Oh, you knew it would work.
Maybe that's how Dave got here, laying on his back as he sobbed underneath your touch, the vibrating cock ring settled right at his base and your tongue licking at his tip, lapping and sucking teasingly. You giggled as he squirmed underneath your touch, your hand pumping him slowly. "I don't know if you've done enough to cum, Dave. I don't think... you've made it up to me."
He whined, shaking his head as he covered his mouth. "No, no please! I'll do anything you want, just please! I need- I need to cum inside of you."
You hummed teasingly, pursing your lips. "Inside of me? You want to ask that much of me? Do you think that you've done enough to get the pleasure of cumming inside of me?"
"Yes!" He whined loudly, groaning. "Yes! Yes, I'll make you feel good, I promise!"
You hummed, pumping him even harder. "No... I don't think you can. A virgin like you? Please."
"I promise! I promise I will, I promise." He whimpered, his hips bucking into the air.
He probably could, to be honest. His cock was bigger than you could ever imagine, his girth barely able to fit into your mouth without making your jaw ache and could barely go down your throat without choking. He had the prettiest dick you'd ever seen, definitely the biggest and girthiest too, just because the last few guys you saw were fucking assholes.
"Maybe I will let you cum inside of me," you mused, humming as you sucked on his tip to make loud popping sound echo across the room. "Maybe, if I'm feeling... nice."
He whined, nodding desperately. "Fuck, please! Please, I'll do anything!"
"Where do you want to cum inside of me, baby? Dave knows I'm on birth control, but does Kick-Ass?" You giggle, rubbing his thighs as you gagged on his cock.
"C-Can I cum i-in your... in your-?"
"You can't even say it, can you?" You giggled as you switched the ring into the highest power, humming. "You want to cum... inside of me, right? That narrows things down a little bit... you want to cum inside my mouth? Or... my ass, that's going to take a minute though. Maybe my pussy? Hm? It's already stretched out for you, Dave. Inside my pussy, inside of my cunt?"
"Y-Your cunt! I want... I want to cum inside of your cunt."
You giggled. "Just don't cum as soon as I take this ring off, alright?"
He let out a loud whimper, nodding as you slowly slip it off, putting it into your mouth to suck loudly, groaning as his taste filled your mouth. He groaned as you take it from your mouth, straddling his hips and holding his cock up. You could feel your eyes roll back, humming as he whimpered. "I-I'm close, I'm so close!"
You giggled as you sunk down onto him, yelling out as he screamed out, groaning with a strong buck of his hips to bottom out inside of you and his cum filling up your stomach. You gasped loudly, whimpering as you held onto his chest, your nails digging into his skin. "H-How are you still cumming?!"
"I-I can't stop," he groaned flipping you over to hold your thighs as he pressed his face into your neck, thrusting his hips. Your eyes rolled back, groaning loudly as the loud slaps of skin against skin filled your room. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good! Better than I could ever imagine, fuck!"
You whined as your nails dug into his back, Dave pulling away for just a second with a grin. "Who's fucking who's brains out now?"
taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪 𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪 𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪 𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪 𓆩[@c78r]𓆪 𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪 𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪 𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪
© asterias-record-shop
BY YOUR HANDS ALONE
neteyam sully x gn!reader
notes: silly and overtly fluffy. flustered neteyam. reupload.
"there you are."
"here i am," you mirror back instantly, hardly sparing a glance up at the far too familiar voice as your fingers continue to work at chopping up some vegetables. it's a busy day—a momentous day. there is no time to waste.
"let me help," neteyam offers, already making moves to steal your knife from you as he steps to your side.
but you weave it away from his grasp, nudge him back with your shoulder and point the knife at him as you address him. "aht, don't think so," you differ, then continue your slicing. "besides, don't you have your own tasks to get to, mr. mighty warrior?"
days like this require a lot of preparation; everyone chipping in and doing their part so that it all gets done and runs smoothly. if even one person slacks off, it could cause a rift in sanctified plans. and that simply wouldn’t do. no, it would not.
"i have completed all of them, actually," he retorts, but he shrivels when you narrow your eyes up at him. "okay, almost all of them."
you scoff, let your pupils meet your sockets with a roll as you pry the truth out of him. of course, one of the most important days of the year and it is now that neteyam chooses to have an irresponsible whim. you aren’t sure what you’re gonna do with him.
"your mother will have your tail if she finds one thing out of place for tonight, you know this." it isn't necessarily a warning, but there is some tip-off in your tone. "you must get everything done."
neteyam hums, leans his hip against the raised wood that you are using as a makeshift counter. he says nothing, simply watches you. takes into account how you dice up the vegetables in front of you diligently before sliding them to the side with your knife and moving onto the next ones. his stare is driving you crazy—no one works well under pressure, after all.
it causes you to have a slight blunder; a misstep. you cut a pattern a tad too fast and send a slice of root tumbling towards the ground. neteyam's instincts are superb, quick, and he catches it before it hits the dirt. mumbling a thank you under your breath as he places it back on the tray, you find the heir before you still not making a move to speak.
you aren't sure why it unnerves you so.
"what do you have left to complete?" it's not the question you want to ask, but 'what the hell do you keep staring at?' doesn't sound quite as nice. so you settle on it.
you take a pause, a breath, to turn to him. throughout the years you have seen the eldest sully child wear many expressions. ones tainted by smiles, irritation, pride, devotion—but this one has you tipping your head in the most peculiar way.
because timidness is not something you think you've ever seen don the strong features of neteyam sully.
he carries himself with such an air of confidence; shoulders pressed back and chin held high—not arrogant, but undaunted. he does not shift gaze unless he is avoiding scoldings and he does not suck in his cheek unless he is fighting frustration. so, you wonder, what could possibly have his face contorted in such a reticent manner. if you did not know any better, you’d almost call his demeanor a rendition of shy. but that seems rather uncharacteristic of him, doesn’t it?
"ah—are you sure you don't need help with that?" he's deflecting, brushing off your inquiry like he hasn't heard it. and you can't decide whether you find that amusing or concerning.
he's making way for your knife again and you twist your arm to hold it out of his reach behind you. you eye him carefully, flit your gaze all around him to pick up on anything that you can that would explain his behavior.
"tell me." it's not an order, you aren't demanding, but neteyam nods his head like he's respondent of such.
"my father told me i needed a, uhm," he stutters, licks his lips, like he's tripping over his own tongue. and it's undeniable the way you see his ears twitch. "for the celebration tonight. i need a.."
"a what, neteyam?" you press, cock your brow up at him. you don't think you've ever seen him like this. never witnessed him so.. "you need a what?"
"a.. date."
so fidgety.
"a date?" you repeat with widening eyes.
"no, no not a—not a date really but i need someone for the—“
"the staining ceremony.” you finish for him, continue his sentence because with all his blubbering you aren’t sure he’ll ever spit it out.
he nods curtly.
the celebration tonight is for all the young warriors who have proved themselves throughout the calendar year as being strong willed and great protectors of the clan. neteyam, of course, is one of them. has been since he earned the right to be titled as such. so perhaps it should have clicked in your head that he’d be searching for a partner for the staining ceremony portion of the night.
but a part of you—if you’re being completely honest with yourself—just figured he had one already. events like this take weeks of planning; most warriors find their artisan a fortnight in advance. because it cannot just be anyone.
the partner one chooses for the staining ceremony must be someone with whom they feel a connection. some of the older warriors choose their mates. some of the youngest choose their mother or father. some settle for siblings. others, in brazen acts of outstretched hands, choose a mate unbonded; one who they harbor feelings for but have yet to seal such in the eyes of Eywa.
you cannot lie and say you had not pondered over who neteyam’s choice would be. a part of you thought he would pick kiri—they have always been so close and she has been his partner for such ceremony before. but, you are not deaf to the murmurs of your village, you are not ignorant of what has been passed from mouth to ear of all that will listen. there have been other… prospects who have been suggested to neteyam for this special commemoration.
your name has not been among them.
“well,” you continue, tear your eyes away from him and get back to the task at hand. there is no need to dwell on such things and fall behind. you have just one more batch of greens after this to prepare then you will be done and can walk away from all this. “if you’re here to ask my opinion on who your choice should be, i’m not sure i will prove to be much help.”
a shut down; a cut off. you’d like this conversation to be over as soon as possible because it’s making your fingers itch. you’re offering him a gateway to close the topic off.
but he doesn’t seem to get the memo.
“no,” he chuckles, now, and you can tell he’s shaking his head out of the corner of your eye. it’s breathy; like he’s punched it out of his chest and finally broken past the barrier of whatever flusteredness had him trapped before. “that’s not why i came to find you.”
“if it’s to convince kiri to sacrifice herself to do it for you again this year, i’m not game for that either.” you don’t understand why his laughter leaves you agitated, why this whole situation has caused an odd twisting in your gut.
“that won’t be necessary,” he disputes, “i do not need kiri to be my partner this year.”
your fingers fumble, your slicing stutters. “oh?” and you want to kick yourself for how your voice hitches. you clear your throat, bite the corner of your lip that neteyam can’t see. “convince some other poor soul to do it for you? is it zuy’nik? i know she presented you a kill from her hunt recently.”
neteyam hums. “no. i have not chosen zuy’nik.”
you grip your knife harder, focus carefully on the blade as you chop down on a bundle of leaves. your throat is dry, your heart is thundering. you feel silly.
“sënuul, then?” you question, do your best to sound as disinterested as possible even though your chest is burning to know who could be lucky enough to have been picked by the heir himself. “i hear many young warriors wish for her. they say she has delicate hands.”
your hands—in contrast—have grown tense; your chops near erratic. being this worked up over a man who is not your mate seems so futile, so nonsensical. if your mother were here to see you now she’d call you childish.
but is it so childish to want things your heart yearns for?
“while that may be true,” neteyam agrees with the sentiment, and that makes your stomach lurch, “it is not sënuul either.”
“then who is it? who could you possibly—“
a hand covering yours has you cutting yourself off. neteyam’s palm melds over your knuckles; stops your unsafe cutting and stills your wrist’s movements. before you can even bring yourself to look at him, calloused fingers are hooking around your chin. swiveling your head around, you have no choice but to meet his gaze. and it is not averting, not twinkling with tepidness like it was before. you think, for a moment, that’s because he’s passed the feeling onto you.
“i do not wish for any other partner in this clan.” and his voice does not waver, does not stumble, now. you swallow as you listen. “i came here to ask if you would do me the honors, for tonight.”
your tongue feels like cotton; the fuzz of it floating to your brain to make everything go static. this is.. not what you had expected.
you had expected to follow neytiri’s orders for preparing the food for the meals that would be shared. you had expected to dress yourself in the ceremonial clothing and jewelry you keep for these special occasions. you had expected to stand around the edges of the circle during the opening dance, serve food to the elders, and sit with a content tight smile as you watched kiri declare neteyam’s war paint for the third year in a row before the true celebration began.
you had not expected yourself to be standing face to face with neteyam, ears twitching embarrassingly sporadic, as he asks you to join him in one of the most intimate and important events of a warrior’s life.
and you suppose you can use that element of surprise as the reason why you find yourself a tad bit speechless while you nod dumbly. a wide grin cracks across his face, curves up his cheeks as he lets out another breathy laugh.
“thank you,” he murmurs, and he still hasn’t let go of your chin. “i was worried i would not get the chance to ask you in time. i was pushing it, but i tried to get all my other duties done as fast as i could.”
now that, the mention of time, finally knocks you out of your little lovesick trance.
“hey, wait,” you huff, shove at his chest lightly with your free hand. “you should have asked me sooner! i should have already had your stain pattern planned out, and—and now i have to go get all of your paints and i didn’t factor in the time for that. you’re terrible!”
“ah, i’m not terrible. i am sure you can just wing it,” he waves off, simpers like this is funny.
“wing it?” you gape at him. because he genuinely cannot be serious. “this will be your war paint pattern for the rest of the year. if it’s bad then you will be stuck with it. you want me just to wing that?!”
“why not? i have faith in you, i’ve put myself into your hands.” and it’s meant to playful, you know this, but the way he’s looking at you proves his words hold their full weight regardless. “don’t be mad at me.”
“oh, i’m mad,” you retort, brush him away as you get back to slicing because now you really do not have the time for distractions. “i cannot believe you have waited until last minute.”
“would you like me to ask someone else?” he queries, and you whip your head over to level him with a glare. “i mean, i am sure sënuul would be honored to be the partner of the future olo’eyktan.”
“you know, i liked you better when you were sputtering and nervous,” you spit back, retract your attention once again. “terrible. truly terrible.”
“ah, do not be mad at me,” he levels again, “what can i do to have you forgive me?”
“nothing. you will never be forgiven.” with no hesitation, but also no malice. your bite holds no venom, and your cheeks are still warm. such hypocrisy you spew.
“nothing?” he questions, and you don’t even have to see his face to know he is smiling. there he is again; the neteyam who holds his chin up high and taunts his brother into mindless games to prove his worth. you admire this neteyam; love this neteyam.
this neteyam grabs your face and tugs you forward before you can think of another mindless rebuttal to spout.
the kiss is light but fervent, and if you were a poetic person you might just say that his lips taste like future promises you already intend to keep. the fight drains from your body and you find no urge to bring it back. this neteyam seems to know how to quell you, how to dispel your frustration and wipe away your grievances like fogged up glass. so easy, so effortlessly.
he pulls away languidly, breath puffing against your lips. "forgive me?" he asks again, and you find yourself nodding before he even finishes the question.
he turns your head to peck your cheek then drops his hands to finally successfully steal the knife still held in yours. you tip your head, blinking through the daze to inquire what he's doing.
"i can finish that, you know."
"i know," he answers, then flashes you a crooked grin that has your stomach twisting in a way far different than before. "but don't you think you should start planning how you want to trail your hands over me?"
and, oh. part of you wants to hit him for that. but part of you wants to tug him in by the neckpiece he dons and get him to shut up by an alternative method.
as you reach forward to run your hand ever so heedlessly up his chest, a faux illusion of planning your mapping, you think you might just settle on the latter.
BABY CUPID; rafe cameron
summary: your little sister decides to play cupid for you and the boy you’re seated with.
warnings: mentions of panic attacks || gif credits to @whumpypepsigal
word count: 1644
author’s note: this has been in my idea outlines for months now since i’ve read this certain twitter thread.
rafe would pay to be anywhere but here.
if it wasn’t for his stupid father, and his stupid business, and his stupid people-pleasing complex, then he wouldn’t be stuck in this stupid economy flight to the bahamas.
there was still at least a few minutes before the plane takes off and rafe tries to compose himself as he counts his deep breaths.
“what’s our number?” your little sister asked as you tighten your grip around her legs. you were carrying her and your bags as you tried to look for your seats. “25f, millie.”
“oh, there!” she pointed at the row a few meters away. “there’s a boy in my seat.” millie frowned as she eyed the guy by the window seat.
“a very cute boy,” you mumbled, walking towards your booked seats.
millie snapped her head towards you, her face scrunched up in a scowl.
rafe only looked up from the window when he saw you mount your bags on top of the compartment above you. the little girl you were with had a frown on her face when she saw where he was seated. you offered him a small smile as you lowered her in between your seats.
he watched as you sat down with a relieved sigh. the little girl kneeled down on her seat and cupped her hands around your ear, promptly whispering something to you.
you carefully say her back down properly and placed on her seatbelt as the pilot announced that you were ready for take-off. “well, i did tell you that we shouldn’t have waited in line for your waffle if you wanted the window seat.”
rafe pretended that he wasn’t listening when the girl looked at him. instead, he busied himself with his seatbelt as the plane started moving.
as soon as the plane was in the air, you grabbed your earphones and plugged them into your phone. you turned to face your sister, giving her the stuffed bunny in her bag. “i’m gonna take a nap, okay? be good for me.”
“okay.” she nodded her head, fiddling with the bunny’s ear as you placed the sleeping mask over your eyes.
rafe let out a shaky breath as he gripped on the armrests. he wasn’t about to have a panic attack with a literal kid beside him. that would seem pathetic as he watched her play with her toy.
he was quite sure that he was about to burst into tears when she suddenly spoke up. “i’m going to talk to you randomly so you need to be prepared, okay?”
rafe snapped his head towards the kid looking up at him, letting out a confused hum. “what?”
“my name is millie, and this is da vinci,” she introduced herself and her stuffed bunny. “what’s your name?”
“i- uh, rafe,” he hesitated, looking over at you then at millie before turning to look back out the window, when she started talking again. she wasn’t lying when she said she would talk to him randomly.
“oh, that’s a nice name.” millie smiled up at him. “my sister thinks you’re cute, mr. rafe.”
“i- wha-?” rafe furrowed his eyebrows. he wasn’t even able to get his question out when she opened her mouth again.
“hey, rafe, do you know what everyone should do when they get on the plane?” millie asked, trying to get a peek through the window.
“what?” rafe finally asked, wanting to humor her.
“thank the wright brothers.” she shrugged. rafe watched in amusement as the little girl clasped her tiny hands together and whispered, “thank you, wright brothers.”
“uhm, yeah,” rafe chuckled, feeling the tightness of his chest ease up. “thank you, wright brothers.”
“ooohh! this is a very nice ring,” she grabbed his left hand before dropping it suddenly. “oopsies, boundaries. i’m sorry,”
“nah, it’s okay.” he smiled, offering her his hand. millie hesitantly took it in her small ones and fiddled with the ring on his finger.
“i think it’s really pretty, but you should draw a smiley face in the middle,” she suggested, tracing the gold ring with her tiny finger.
“that’s a good idea, i might just do that.” rafe nodded in agreement. the both of them got into meaningless conversations, varying from different topics in the span of a few minutes.
rafe felt himself calm down completely in the presence of the little girl. he forgot all about his existent fear as she chattered his ear off with random facts and stories.
as soon as she heard the wheels of the cart, she immediately perked up. “oh, good timing, i was getting hungry.”
the flight attendant chuckled. “what can i get for you, sweetheart?”
“uhm,” she tapped her chin in thought. “oh! can i have those free cookies and chocolate milk, please? and uhm, i think my sister would also like that once she wakes up.” she said, before turning to look at rafe. “what about you, mr. rafe?”
“i’ll take the cookies and a cup of coffee, thanks.” he smiled.
“mr. rafe would take the cookies and the cup of coffee.” she repeated, grinning up at the lady as she handed her the cookies and drinks. “thank you!”
rafe sighed in relief as he took a sip of the warm beverage. he placed his own snacks on the tray table and helped mille pull down hers.
“we should watch a movie.” she suggested, grabbing her ipad from her bag.
“sure,” rafe agreed, watching as she scrolled through the number of choices in her downloads. she paused at one point, letting the princess and the frog load as she offered rafe the other bud of her earphones.
another hour later, you slowly stirred from your mini siesta, groaning at the feeling of your stiff neck as you stretched a bit.
“oh, good, you’re awake,” millie looked at you before returning her gaze at rafe, who was taking photos of the sunrise from above. “rafe and i took a lot of goofy pictures while you were asleep, we’re taking pretty sun pictures now.”
“keep the camera there, rafe, that way i can see out the window better.” she requested.
“who’s rafe?” you asked amidst a yawn.
“i’m rafe,” you immediately closed your mouth shut, forcing the yawn back as rafe offered you his hand to shake.
“oh, hi,” you ran a hand through your hair to make sure it was decent-looking as the other shook his. “i’m y/n.”
rafe smiled softly as he gave you a once over. despite the messy hair and wrinkled clothes, he thinks that you’re the most beautiful stranger he’s ever laid eyes on.
the both of you only snapped out of your gazing when the plane shifted and millie spoke up. “they’re tilting us so we can see better! how nice.”
you and rafe exchanged amused chuckles because the plane definitely wasn’t turning, only giving you a better view.
the captain spoke up, informing all of you that the plane was about to land in a few minutes. you buckled in your sister’s before yours as she tries to keep herself from practically bouncing on her seat.
rafe kept his eyes on you and your sister when he slowly felt his chest tighten. he placed a harsh grip on both of the armrests, trying to direct his attention on the two girls who made his flight bearable.
“we’re going down!” millie exclaimed, and you had to slap your hand on her mouth when the lady in front of you jolted out of her sleep at the sudden cry of your sister. rafe had a soft smile on his face when he felt her tiny hand unconsciously grab onto his, watching as you profusely apologized to the poor spooked lady.
“i feel so lucky that i got to sit by you, rafe,” millie smiled up at him.
rafe felt his heart warm up at the words of the little girl. he gave her hand a small squeeze as he replied, “me, too,”
you and millie were accompanied by rafe up until the baggage claim after your sister begged you to let him come with you, her quick attachment to the boy making it hard for you to compromise on your current situation.
“why can’t he come with us, y/n/n?” she pouted, staying over at rafe’s side instead of yours.
“i think mr rafe has some business he needs to attend to, love,” you smiled sadly, crouching down to look at her. “maybe you’ll get to see him again next time.”
“i mean, i can always fit you guys into my schedule during my visit.” rafe offered. “millie’s a sweet girl, and quite frankly, she, uh, helped me today with my issues with planes.”
“plus, a little birdie told me that you found her seatmate incredibly handsome.” he added, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“i didn’t- i never said-“ you huffed, throwing your arms lightly in the air.
“it’s fine, s’alright.” he assured you, as he grabbed his phone from his pocket. “i best believe that her seatmate found you really cute, too. especially when you were sleeping.”
“creep!” you laughed, grabbing the phone from him and punched in your number.
“what’s happening, i don’t understand what’s happening.” millie whined, switching her attention from you and rafe.
“i guess you and rafe could have another playdate.” you told her, fastening her backpack properly.
“how about you? will you and rafe have a date?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you mischievously.
“oh i-“
“well we-“
you and rafe looked at each other. he raised an eyebrow at you inquisitively. “i mean, i’d love to take you out on a date… if you want?”
“i’d like that.” you smiled at him.
“yes!” millie cheered, pumping her arm in the air. “i don’t know about you guys but i think i’d do a great job as cupid.”
this is so cute aww
It’s Grandpa!
Aged Up! Miles G
Summary: Miles Takes a Special Person To See His Dads Mural.
A/n: This was inspired by a request I got 🫶🏽
Miles walked out the door of his mother's house. Each step up the stairs towards the roof of the building felt harder than the last, but he knew he had to do it. He had to confront the past, especially for the little boy cradled in his arms, his son Kai Jefferson Morales.
As Miles looked down at his son, he saw a mirror image of himself, a reflection of his own childhood. It brought back memories of his own father, holding him in his arms, walking the same path they were now taking. Kai's eyes twinkled with innocent curiosity as he looked up at his dad and asked, "Are we there yet, dada?"
Miles couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "We are, buddy," he replied, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and tenderness. With that, he pulled open the heavy rooftop door, allowing the warm air to caress their faces.
Setting Kai down gently, Miles felt a slight stiffness in his body as he took in a deep breath. No matter how many times he came up to the roof, it was always emotionally challenging. But he had made a promise to himself and his son to his dad.
"Woah, dada, look!" Kai said excitedly, pointing towards the bustling streets of Brooklyn spread out beneath them.
"Don't go too far, son. Be careful," Miles said. He knew that Kai was just thrilled to be in this special place.
Miles turned his body, letting out a exhale as he gazed at his father's mural. The vibrant colors and intricate details seemed to come alive, as if telling a story of their own.
"Hey pops, it's me and Kai. He's getting so big, turned 4 last week. He's got your sass," Miles said with a chuckle. His laughter was tinged with a touch of sadness. "Wish you could've met him," he added, dropping his head and staring at his shoes.
In that moment, Miles felt small arms wrapping around his leg. Looking down, he saw Kai, his eyes wide with wonder.
"It's Grandpa, dada," Kai said, pointing at the mural.
Miles smiled, a mixture of pride and longing in his eyes. "You're right, buddy. That's your Grandpa. He would've loved you," he whispered. He lifted Kai into his arms and asked, "Can you read that for me?"
Kai's face lit up with excitement. "Jefferson Morales. Just like me!" he exclaimed, a wide smile spreading across his face as he turned to his dad. "Exactly like you, Kai. You're named after Grandpa. Pretty cool, right?" Miles replied, a sense of joy and pride evident in his voice.
"Yeah, dada, cool," Kai echoed, his little voice filled with admiration.
Miles held out his fist, and Kai eagerly bumped it. In that simple gesture, a bond between father and son, past and present, was strengthened.
You, silently watching from afar, couldn't help but smile. Seeing Miles share stories of Jefferson with your son brought warmth to your heart.
"Mommmyyy!" Kai suddenly said, spotting you.
"Hey my baby," you said, a soft smile gracing your lips as you walked towards your family. Your son's eyes sparkled with excitement, pointing eagerly towards the distance.
"Look, mommy, grandpa," he said, his tiny finger directing your gaze towards the mural.
Miles, wrapped his free arm around you.
"He would've loved you too," Miles whispered,before placing a tender kiss on your lips
Could you do a wally Clark x reader with the prompts "i've been stupid enough to keep chasing after you." And "Feeling unwanted whenever they see their crush giving their time, attention, and affection to someone else. " I was thinking something where reader gets jealous of Maddie, real angsty but with a happy ending where wally and reader stop being stupid and confess to each other
i don't wanna dance if i'm not dancing with you
Wally Clark x Reader (3.3k)
Warnings: A curse word or two. Mentions of death (kinda unavoidable)
Author's Note: Thank you so much for sending this in. I really hope you like it. This was really fun to write, and I am so incredibly proud of it. I don't think I used any gendered terms for the reader, but if I did someone please let me know and I will relabel this. Happy reading!!
The title comes from "Holy Ground" by Taylor Swift
(divider by saradika-graphics)
Note: My work is not to be posted anywhere else on any other platforms.
MASTERLIST
It really shouldn't bother you so much, seeing Wally, seeing everyone except for Rhonda, really, fawning all over Maddie. It's normal to be excited and curious when there's a new ghost. You're curious, too. You want to know what happened to her, how she got here. There hasn't been a new ghost in a really long time, you kinda thought there may never be another one.
But Maddie isn't like every other ghost at Split River. She doesn't know how she got here. She doesn't remember how she died. And that makes everything even curiouser.
You feel for the girl, you really do. Accepting that you're dead is hard enough when you know exactly how it happened. The only mystery you should be solving in your afterlife is how to move on, not how you got here in the first place.
Maddie Nears is an unprecendented event. Of course she's piqued everyone's interest. It's just that she's piqued Wally's interest and you can't help but feel like it's for an entirely different reason.
You've been stuck in this purgatory for two decades, after some shithead all-star senior was so excited to take his teammates for a ride in his brand new pickup that he didn't bother to check his rearview before backing out of his parking spot.
When you got here you weren't too different from Maddie. You had no interest in being a part of anything, you didn't want to sit in Mr. Martin's little support group and talk about your feelings about being dead. You didn't want to write your obituary or accept what happened to you. You wanted to wander the halls, keep tabs on your friends to see if they were okay. You wanted to still be alive. Not that experience of Split River had been much better when you had a pulse, but at least you were breathing.
It was weeks before you started to come around to the whole being a ghost thing. To the reality that you were never going back. That one day your friends would walk out those doors for good and you'd never see them again unless they decided to show their faces at a class reunion somewhere down the line.
You went through your own grieving process, got to the point of acceptance, and that's when Wally Clark made himself known as something more than just another ghost in a folding chair for group.
He'd been the only one of the ghosts that you recognized when you got there. There was still a photo of him in the school's trophy case. He was still a celebrated part of the school's history. A tragedy still commemorated. Unlike the other ghosts that the school tried to make everyone forget about. Somehow, he was still larger than life. He could be best friends with anyone in what felt like the blink of an eye. And he figured that yeah, being stuck here kinda sucks, but why not make the best of it?
So you did. You got on board with his philosophy. You did field day and helped with decorations for the homecoming game. You sat at the front of the bleachers and watched Wally's yearly go at reliving his glory days. You helped make the most of the yearly class reunions.
Without you even realizing, you and Wally kind of became joined at the hip. Anywhere you went, he was usually there too and vice versa. Everyone noticed, you know they noticed. Charley was more subtle about it than Rhonda, but they noticed. And they made sure you knew it.
The funny thing about being trapped for an eternity is that eventually you lose all sense of urgency. Nothing feels that pressing anymore. You have all the time in the world, you can wait. You thought you had a lot more time to figure out what to do with your crush on Wally. You couldn't have anticipated Maddie or Wally clearly being into her.
You feel you've been handling it pretty well, all things considered. You barely even flinched when Rhonda made the comment about Wally having a crush on Maddie after you all found out about Simon. Wally's reaction to that comment didn't do anything to dispute Rhonda's claim, and that made your heart break just a little bit more.
So you left, followed Maddie's lead and got the hell out of there. And after that you kept your distance. Stayed out of your and Wally's local haunts, tried to avoid him at every turn. Hid out in the auditorium since he barely ever goes in there because Mina intimidates him. You skipped out on movie night and gave yourself a few days to got your head on straight.
If Wally likes Maddie then you're going to do your best to be happy for him because that's what friends do. Turns out that's a lot easier said than done.
You come out of hiding just in time for homecoming set up. It's one of your favorite parts of the year and you don't want to miss it. You usually do a lot of the helping because you know how important this is to Wally. Everyone else is kind of just humoring him, but you really want it to be great for him. After all, there aren't many things to look forward to in this place.
You thought maybe they would've waited for you before they started decorating. But, really, why would they? There are so many things to do and so little time. It's nothing personal. And logically you know that, but it still stings to see Wally and Maddie painting the banner together. Because every other year it's been you in her place.
Charley and Rhonda notice you first. There's some kind of snarky remark, one-hundred percent intended to get Wally's attention, on the tip of Rhonda's tongue, but you shake your head, practically begging her not to, before she can even say it. For once, she listens.
You don't want to be noticed just because of Rhonda. It feels like a silly thing to feel so strongly about, but you do. You've been feeling like you're second best for what feels like months, but hasn't been anywhere close to that long. And you just want to feel like you matter half as much to Wally as he matters to you.
He doesn't notice you until Maddie leaves to chase after her mom. He drops his paintbrush and a smile takes over his lips at the sight of you. But it doesn't feel good, not like it used to.
"Hey." He says, quickly getting up and trying to swipe some of the paint off his face. He takes one step in your direction and something inside of you panics. You thought you were ready, you really did. But now he's a few feet away and you realize that you're not even close to ready. So you do the only logical thing, even if it is a slightly embarrassing and patheic thing, and you run away.
You make it into the hallway and you know it's only a headstart. He's taller than you and there's no way he's just going to let you have this. He's not going to let this go when you've pretty obviously been avoiding him.
You hear his footsteps enter the hallway a few seconds later. You don't stop, but you do slow down to a fast walk. You're not really sure where you're heading to, you have nowhere in mind, you just want to get away from him.
"Hey." He calls after you, his voice still kind and curious. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Where'd you go?"
Because you're feeling a little hurt, and a lot petty, you bite back with, "Clearly you haven't been looking hard enough."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asks, a bitter edge finally working its way into his voice.
"Nothing, Wally." You say, shaking your head. "It doesn't mean anything."
The sound of Wally's sneakers hitting the linoleum comes to an abrupt stop, but you don't. You keep heading for the stairwell doors.
"Okay, seriously, what's going on with you?"
"Just drop it, Wally."
"No." He says it with such force that it makes you stop. "You've been avoiding everyone. Rhonda, Charley, me. We've been best friends for twenty years, you think I don't know when something's going on with you?"
"You just think you know everything, don't you?" You snap, finally turning to look at him.
"About you? Yeah, I do." There's a cocky sort of confidence to the way he says it that makes your blood boil. Because you know that he's probably right. It's been a long time. Every single day spent together for twenty years, what could he possibly not know about you after all that time?
In some ways, you're pretty sure he knows you bette than you know yourself. That doesn't feel as good as it used to, either.
"Yeah, well, maybe you don't know as much as you think you do." You think getting punched in the stomach would've hurt less than seeing the expression on his face. It's like you just shattered something priceless. And no matter how you might try, those pieces are never going to fit back together.
This isn't the first time you've pulled something like this. Said something you know you'll regret just to get Wally to back off for a bit. It's usually, scratch that, it's always when there's something you don't want to confront. It hasn't always had to do with Wally. It happened for pretty much the entirety of your senior year. You'd accepted that you were dead by then, it'd been over a year, but it was hard to watch your friends go through so many rites of passage. It hurt to see them all preparing to move on when you were stuck and you always would be.
You wanted to implode. To sabotage what little you had. So you pushed people away so they wouldn't be in the blast zone during demolition. You were protecting them, protecting Wally. And you're still doing it. Even if he doesn't understand, even if he doesn't see it that way right now. Even if he never does.
"I know you do this sometimes." He says, trying a different tactic and aiming for understanding instead of accusation. Like that might be enough to get you to just come clean. "You get in your head about something and you get scared. You kick us out of your life before we can give up on you and run."
He's walking towards you now, and every cell in your body wants to run away. You hate the way the air seems have to shifted. A few minutes ago you felt like you had control over this, but right now it doesn't seem like it. It's in his hands now, and you don't know what to do that.
"But," He says your name just as he gets close enough to touch, his hand reaching out for your arm, "I'm not running anywhere."
"You are, though." You say, almost without thinking, and quickly pull your arm out of his reach. "You're running to something and it's not me."
Wally, to his credit, looks genuinely dumbfounded by that. "I have no idea what that means."
"Don't be dense, Wally, it's not a good look on you."
You feel like you're making a mess of this. Whatever this is. You don't know the right thing to say. You don't know how to be honest in the right way. You feel like you're ruining everything before you've even really started.
"I'm sorry." You say. "I know I'm being kind of an asshole. I, just, I'm trying to be happy for you, and I am, apparently, really bad at it."
If you were listening, you would've heard Wally ask, "Happy about what?," but you're far too wrapped up in your head to hear it.
"Because you seem really happy lately. Happier than I've seen you in a long time. And that's great, really, it is. I want you to be happy. I just need to get over myself because nothing's ever gonna happen."
Something flashes in Wally's expression. You're not sure if it's shock or maybe guilt, but whatever it is, you know you can't stand it.
"I mean, it's been twenty years. If something was gonna happen, it would've happened by now. And every time I thought something would happen, it didn't. And I've been stupid enough to keep chasing after you because I still thought that maybe something would happen someday. But it won't. And I need to get that through my head."
It was like you hyperventilated through that. Like there wasn't any time to stop and take a proper breath, not that you even need to breathe anymore, because you needed to say all of that. It needed to be out there, and there wasn't time for anything to get in its way.
Right now you kind of wish you could have that feeling back. That sense of urgency, of a timer running down. Because now it feels like time has stopped moving, like you're holding your breath. Because Wally hasn't moved. His expression hasn't shifted an inch and he hasn't said a word.
You immediately get it in your head that you've made a fool out of yourself. That this connection between the two of you is strictly a friend thing and nothing more, and he's trying to find the right way to let you down easy. You have no interest in sticking around for that.
Without wasting another second, you turn on your heel and take off towards the staircase doors once more. You hear Wally call your name, finally finding his voice as he begs for you to just wait. But you're not turning around. Not this time.
Okay, so, maybe skipping the homecoming game was a shitty thing to do. You intended to still go. To pull yourself out of wallowing in a darkened corner of the auditorium and find your way to the bleachers. You got halfway up the aisle before you decided you just couldn't do it.
You can't see him right now. You don't want to have to watch as he fumbles for the right way to tell you that he just doesn't see you that way. As he tries his best to not make things awkward between you two for the rest of eternity.
So you sit this year out. You bunker down in a front row seat and try to block out stray noise from the field. You try to forget that it's homecoming at all.
You go to the field the next night, when everyone should be in the gym at the dance. You want some peace and quiet and a good view of the stars. You get a little more than you bargained for.
You hear footsteps coming up the stairway. Metal clinks beneath each step, you don't bother to look in the direction of the sound. You're hoping it's a maintenance team or one of the coaches, but you know better than that.
The footsteps stop right next to you, you watch from your peripheral as Wally sits down beside you.
"Figured you'd be at the dance." You say, still looking ahead at the field down below. He's certainly dressed for the dance. You've seen the suit before, he takes homecoming very seriously, but it is always nice to get a break from his sweatsuit.
"I was on my way." He says, fiddling with the box in his hand. "But it just didn't feel right."
You nod your head. The last thing you want to do is add to the conversation and risk putting your foot in your mouth even further.
"I've been thinking about what you said yesterday." He starts. "It's kind of all I've been thinking about, actually."
Here it comes. You brace yourself prematurely, preparing for whatever variation of 'we can still be friends' is about to come out of his mouth.
"I think our wires got crossed somewhere. I mean, I thought I was kind of painfully obvious."
You turn your head at that, you can't help it. There are a million ways you thought this could go, but this isn't one of them.
"I talked to Rhonda and Charley, and they pointed out that you've been acting so weird because you think I like Maddie." He says, watching you with a slightly amused expression. "Which was really interesting because Rhonda's been teasing me for decades about my crush on you."
You don't know what to say. You're pretty sure you see a hint of nerves creep into his expression at your hesitation.
"How, uh," You clear your throat, "For how long?"
"Pretty much since the day I met you."
You nod, looking back out towards the field for a moment. For some reason you feel like you can't even begin to process that while looking at him.
"I, uh, I didn't know that." You say, looking back towards him but quickly looking away once more.
"Yeah, I figured." You roll your eyes, turning your head to look at him. Your stare holds for a second before the two of you start laughing. It's a small thing, short but incredibly fond.
It dies off quickly, and nothing feels funny anymore. Not with the way he's looking at you. He slides in a bit closer on the bench and leans towards you. You tilt your head up slightly to meet him in the middle.
You know it's been a long time coming, but if this is the kind of kiss twenty years can get you, you think it's well worth it. That time doesn't feel so wasted anymore. Because even if you weren't together, it was all leading to this moment. And this feels pretty perfect, you're not sure you would've wanted it any other way. If you would've been ready for it at any other time.
You pull back after a few seconds, but you don't stray very far. Your forehead presses against his as you grin into the space between you.
You let yourself sit in the quiet for a moment, just enjoying what you have. You don't want to be the one to burst the bubble first, to be the one who throws you both back into reality. Not when this feels like such a dream.
"So, do you wanna go to the dance with me?"
You laugh at that, you can't help it. Everything about this really is so high school. It's a scene straight out of a teen movie. But you're not mad at it. You don't think you ever will be.
"Yeah, I'd love to."
Wally takes your hand and leads you towards the steps, but stops before you even get back on solid ground.
"I made this for you." He says, handing over the box he'd been holding this entire time.
You open the lid and stare down at the corsage. It's mostly paper, but that doesn't make it any less beautiful. Besides, your eyes are more drawn to the 57 right in the middle.
"57." You say, smiling up at him. "Your football number."
"Yeah, it was a tradition when I was in school." He watches as you stare at it for a few seconds longer, clearly getting the wrong idea and jumping to play it off. "Do you hate it? Because you don't have to wear it if you don't want to."
"It's perfect." You say as you slide it on to your wrist. You brush your thumb over one of the petals before you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. "Come on." You take his hand and lead him back to the school.
Homecoming might just be your new favorite time of year, too.
15+ Mods You Need for Cozy & Realistic Gameplay By Ashley Plays
Tweaks & Fixes.
No Bad Microwave Buffs
Steady Sit & Seat Any Sim
Less or No Food Spoiling
Break No More
Gameplay Mods.
Functional Wall Phone
Greetings
Tabletop Pumpkin Carving Mat
Brand New Bedsheets
Clean House & Ask to Clean House
Food Delivery Mods.
Delivery Services
Food Shop Delivery
Zoomers Delivery Plus
Romance Mods.
Call Anytime
Road to Romance
Carry and Kiss
More Kisses
Pillow Talk
Bed Cuddle
fake boyfriend (ricky bowen x reader)
summary: in which (y/n) asks ricky to pretend to be her boyfriend and that makes hidden feelings slip out.
prompt: “can you pretend to be my boyfriend? it’ll be fifteen minutes tops.”
extra pairing: luke patterson x platonic!reader
warnings: underage drinking, kissing(?)
gif’s not mine.
This is what I get for lying, (Y/N) thought to herself as she scrambled around the party desperately looking for her best friend.
She walked past a couple making out in the corner of the living room, nose scrunching up in disgust as she got a glimpse of the sloppy kiss. It was loud, music blasting at full volume and voices that could barely be heard over the thumping of the base (she wondered if the neighbors would complain about that). A cheer erupted from the kitchen and she turned her head around to see two girls celebrating they’d gotten the little white ball inside the red cup, they were close to winning the round of cup pong. (Y/N) bumped past dancing teenagers, apologizing halfheartedly. She held a red cup in her hand, carefully raising it over her head as she moved past people, trying her best not to spill the content. She wished she could just sit back and enjoy her drink, instead she found herself avoiding Bobby Wilson.
At the distance she saw Luke Patterson, her childhood best friend, talking to Julie Molina.
She smirked as she watched them interact. They were unbelievably adorable. (Y/N) knew Luke had the biggest crush on Julie, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. She knew Luke like the back of her hand and his adoration for the younger girl was evident in the way he spoke about her and how absolutely smitten he looked at the moment.
Feeling eyes on him Luke turned around to meet her eyes. She glared at him, half playful, half serious. All it took was a single look of her face to notice the slight annoyance and Luke immediately knew the reason behind it. The idiot had the audacity of chuckling.
This was all his fault and he was laughing.
Such an ass, honestly.
She rolled her eyes and cursed him in her mind, flipping him off as she did. He responded with a smirk. She wasn’t truly mad, over the years she’d come to learn and accept that she could never be truly upset at Luke, and he was well aware of that.
Luke didn’t feel particularly guilty. When he’d suggested introducing (Y/N) to his band mates he’d done it without ulterior motives (she would counter that he’d known about Bobby’s crush on her and was therefore responsible for her current situation, he would shot back that she’d been the one to lie).
Truth to be told (Y/N) had been pretty excited when Luke had suggested that she meet his friends. She’d known Patterson since they’d both been in diapers, they’d grown up together and there wasn’t a moment of her life that she couldn’t remember him being around, but attending different schools meant that they had different groups of friends. Now, that was cool and all (after all, Luke was like that annoying little brother that you just can’t shake off and she was certain that if they’d had the same friends they both would’ve exploded) but lately he’d been talking a lot about his new band, Sunset Curve, and she’d been dying to meet them. She wondered if they would have embarrassing stories about Luke which she could use to tease him.
They were all incredible people. Alex was incredibly sweet and sassy, Reggie was incredibly funny and Bobby had an incredibly evident crush on her. It was so obvious it was almost painfully uncomfortable. Luke would later let her know that Bobby had been asking about her ever since he’d seen the picture of them together at (Y/N)’s mom’s wedding.
Now, (Y/N) liked Bobby just fine— he was a nice guy, much like Alex and Reggie —but she wasn’t interested in him in a romantic way. She had told him that, trying to let him down as gently as possible, but he seemed fixed on the idea that he could make her change her mind.
Being absolutely done with his shameless flirting she had resorted to her last option: lying. And not only did she lie but she did it like a pro, slowly introducing the idea that she was seeing someone before, weeks later, announcing that she now officially had a boyfriend.
Luke had snorted, she had elbowed him hard in the gut and Bobby had finally backed off.
She never expected to be forced to introduce her invisible and completely nonexistent boyfriend to Luke’s friend. But EJ’s parents were out of town and he’d asked Alex if Sunset Curve could play for his birthday and when people from both East High and Los Feliz had heard the band was playing a massive party had been formed. Bobby had jumped at the opportunity of meeting her boyfriend in this gigantic get together, she had given him a tight lipped smile and a nod and Luke had smirked at her discomfort.
She hadn’t panicked much at first, at the end of the day she could just tell him that her ‘boyfriend’ was sick and wouldn’t be able to make it. Well, that possibility had gone out of the window the moment Luke decided to open his big mouth.
“Oh, he’ll be here,” Luke had informed Bobby as they got ready to go onstage, ignoring the glare (Y/N) sent his way and (somehow) managing to not flinch when she pinched him in the arm in an attempt to make him shut up. “He texted me, said he wouldn’t miss it.”
It was payback. She’d eaten his favorite cookies two days prior (even when he’d called dibs on them and tried to hide them at the back of the cupboard) and now she was paying for it.
In the midst of panicking an idea had popped into her head; she just needed someone to be her fake boyfriend for the night.
Brilliant plan, if she said so herself.
So now here she was after Sunset Curve’s performance, looking for the only person in the world that could pull off the ‘fake boyfriend’ role; Ricky Bowen.
Keep reading
i just called to say i love you - jj maybank x fem!reader
summary: jj is missing his girlfriend a little extra one night.
a/n: so ptx is releasing a new christmas album soon and this is one of this cover is one of the singles they released (i recommend listening to it while you read!) and i could not stop thinking about it with jj, so here's a shitty blurb about it lol!
warning(s): none, this is all fluff (there is some cursing though and it is not proofread so its probably a mess)
wc: 771
You let out the heaviest sigh yet as your nails dug into your scalp, tired eyes trying and failing to find meaning in the textbook chapter in front of you. Whoever wrote your physics textbook deserved to get it thrown at them — the way you were suffering, you would do it yourself.
Your freshman year of college had started a little over a month ago, and your professors were already drowning you in work. You knew that would happen with a STEM path, but dammit if you weren’t partially regretting it.
But kinematics and mechanics were temporarily pushed to the side when your phone started to ring, and though the bright screen blinded you for a second when you opened it, a smile soon found its way across your lips.
“JJ!” you exclaimed after accepting the call, your boyfriend’s face immediately popping into your mind. “What are you doing up this late?”
“Wow,” he responded, his voice dripping with mock contempt. “First time we’ve actually called in a month and that’s what I get?”
You chuckled and turned away from your desk, pulling up one of your legs onto the chair. “Sorry. Hey babe, how are you doing? Also, what are you doing up at 2 AM? I’m not your bail call, am I?”
“You have such high hopes for me,” he said with a small laugh of his own. “But no, I’m not in jail this time. Everything’s fine, I just… I miss you a lot. I’m really proud of you, but I’m also really selfish. Y’know, you’re paying your college like, a million dollars just to go there. I give you my company for free. I think we know who the better deal is.”
That got the first genuine laugh out of you in a while, but your heart ached all the same. You had been so busy with college and your internship and everything else under the sun that you didn’t exactly have time to feel emotions, but thirty seconds of talking to your boyfriend and you were seriously tempted to hop on a flight home. This call was like a little pocket of the OBX, and it was something sorely missed.
“I know you’re joking, but I gotta agree. I know this’ll get me a degree and a better future or whatever, but I’m kind of regretting my entire life.” You picked a thread on your sweater and stared out the window — nights like these, you really missed the Outer Banks. “I miss you too. I wish you could be here with me.”
“I do too, babe.” A thousand miles away, and you could tell that he was smiling on the other end. “But, uh— it’s probably better for me to stay here. I don’t understand any of your science shit.”
You gasped and put a hand to your heart. “You mean you don’t want to hear about centripetal acceleration and dry friction?”
“I could listen to you talk about it all day, but I have no idea what any of that means.” The two of you laughed, and when it quieted down again he continued, a slightly more wistful tone. “But seriously — I would listen to you talk about physics for weeks if it meant I got to hear your voice. I miss you a lot more than I thought you would, and I guess that’s why I’m here. I just called to say I love you.”
And if your heart wasn’t hurting enough, those words could’ve caused it to burst on the spot. An uncontrollable smile spread across your lips as a searing heat rushed to your cheeks, and you felt like a little girl with a crush again. “Oh, JJ… I love you too. So much. I’m so sorry that we haven’t talked in so long; I swear I’ll make more time in my schedule—”
He cut you off with a chuckle. “Babe, don’t worry. I know that you’re busy, but you don’t know how happy I am for you. You’re gonna be the smartest fuckin’ thing to come out of the Cut, and I’m gonna be there for you every step of the way. Okay?”
You bit your lip, an attempt to stop the overflowing happiness from rushing out of you, and you nodded despite him not being able to see it. “Okay. You have no idea how much I love you.”
“I think I have a small idea,” he said, a familiar lilt in his voice. “Because when you get us to space, I call shotgun in the rocket.”
You laughed and rubbed a hand across your forehead. “Deal.”
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