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After slipping into a private Korean dinner with the boys, the two of you sneak away to the single-stall bathroom for a stolen moment. Tipsy and overjoyed, Taehyung pulls you into playful, heated kisses against the sinkâfull of giggles, beard tickles, and his signature words.
WARNINGS ⊠alcohol consumption (my babies are tipsy) ⊠mild making out / heated kissing ⊠very light suggestive touching ⊠bathroom makeout ⊠established relationship ⊠idol au ⊠soft taehyung bc i'm a lonely bitch
11O5 âââââ drabble taehyung x fem!reader
۶ৠđ , tell me why i'm in the middle of the craziest week at uni but i'm still here delivering this silly work to my taehyung girlies bc i couldn't sit still after seeing a photo of him in pinterest with this hair. i'm just too soft for my bangtan babies so this is me providing another domestic bangtan drabble. hope you can enjoy, sorry if it's bad!
âââââ read on ao3
The private Korean dinner in Vegas was buried deep in the back of an unmarked restaurant, the kind of place that required NDAs and two separate entrances. The boys were loud and loose after the show, soju bottles sweating on the table while staff tried (and failed) to keep things civilized. Youâd slipped in halfway through the meal, fresh off your flight, hair still smelling like airplane air and the desert wind. The second Taehyung spotted you across the room his whole face lit up like a kid on Christmasâboxy grin, eyes disappearing, immediately abandoning his seat to pull you into a back hug that lasted way too long.
Now the two of you were crammed into the single-stall bathroom at the end of the hallway, door locked, the low hum of laughter and clinking glasses muffled through the wall. One dim warm light glowed above the mirror. Taehyung had you pressed against the sink, tipsy and happy and entirely too pleased with himself.
âYou really flew all the way here just to surprise me?â he murmured against your lips, voice low, the faint scent of soju and galbi on his breath. His newly trimmed beard brushed your skin as he kissed you again, slower this time.
You laughed softly into it, fingers in his hair. âDonât get cocky. I had a gap in my schedule.â
âStill counts.â He smiled against your mouth, hands resting at your waist, thumbs slipping just under the hem of your top. The kiss deepened naturally, warm and familiar after weeks apartâhis tongue brushing yours, unhurried but hungry. He tasted like dinner and the soju heâd been drinking, a little messy when he tilted his head.
You pulled back a fraction, breathing against his cheek. âWeâre gonna get caught if you keep grinning like that every time you kiss me.â
He let out a quiet laugh, forehead resting against yours for a second. âCanât help it. You show up looking like that and Iâm supposed to act normal?â His hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, then he leaned in again, catching your bottom lip gently between his.
It stayed playful at firstâlittle giggles breaking through when your noses bumped or his beard tickled your chin. But the longer it went, the more it heated up. He pressed closer, one thigh sliding between yours as he kissed you deeper, slower, the kind of kiss that made the tiny bathroom feel even smaller. The mirror fogged slightly behind your back. Outside, someone yelled something about another round of drinks, and you both froze for half a second before cracking up again.
âYouâre such an idiot when youâre tipsy,â you whispered, rolling your eyes as he nipped at your jaw.
âAn idiot who missed you,â he shot back, cocky but soft, voice rough around the edges. He kissed the spot right under your ear, then lower, careful not to leave marks. His hands stayed mostly respectful, one cupping the back of your neck, the other at your hip, but the way he held you felt greedy anyway.
You tugged his hair lightly to bring his mouth back to yours. The muffled noise from the dinner, the warm yellow light, the stolen minutesâit all made everything feel more intense. Just two people who barely got time like this, sneaking a moment in a Vegas bathroom because tomorrow was finally an off day.
Taehyung pulled away just enough to look at you, eyes a little glassy from the soju, that lazy smile still in place. âWe should probably go back before they send a search party.â
âYeah,â you agreed, but neither of you moved right away. He stole one more kiss, shorter this time, then rested his forehead on yours again with a content sigh.
Your fingers moved on their own, tracing lightly along his jaw where youâd helped trim his beard two weeks ago. The skin was still smooth there. âHow are you feeling, really?â you asked quietly, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. âAll the shows, the travel⊠you sleeping enough? Eating properly?â
He let out a soft breath, almost a laugh, but it came out melted and relaxed under your touch. His eyes closed for a second as he leaned into your hand like a cat. âYou always ask that first.â
âBecause you never tell me unless I do.â You kept your voice low, one hand sliding to the back of his neck, massaging gently. The muffled laughter from the dining room felt far away now.
Taehyung hummed, the sound rumbling in his chest. He looked younger like this â tipsy, unguarded, shoulders dropping as the constant performer energy finally slipped off. âIâm okay. Tired, but good tired. The Vegas shows were insane⊠the crowd was loud. My throatâs a little scratchy from all the singing, but nothing serious.â He paused, then admitted with a small shrug, âMissed you more than I thought I would this leg.â
You nodded, continuing the slow caress along his neck and into his hair. âGood. I worried about the time difference and your schedule. You looked a bit pale in the last live.â
He smiled, small and genuine, eyes opening again to meet yours. âYou watch those?â
âEvery one I can.â Your fingers kept moving, soothing, grounding. âDonât push too hard tomorrow on the off day, okay? We can just stay in. Order room service, watch something stupid.â
Taehyung melted even more, arms wrapping loosely around your waist as he pulled you closer, not in a heated way â just wanting to feel you there. âThat sounds perfect,â he murmured against your temple. âNo plans. Just us. Iâll even let you pick the movie without complaining.â
You chuckled softly. âLiar. You always complain.â
âOnly because your taste is questionable,â he teased, but there was no bite to it. He nuzzled into your neck for a moment, breathing you in. The warm bathroom light made everything feel intimate and small, like the chaos of tour and Vegas outside didnât exist for these few minutes.
You stayed like that, hands gently stroking his back, his hair, just existing together in the quiet. No rush to leave, even though you both knew you should. It was rare â this kind of easy, earned closeness in the middle of his crazy life.
âLove you,â he said simply, almost under his breath, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You pressed a kiss to his shoulder. âLove you too, idiot.â
He laughed quietly, the sound warm against your skin, and neither of you made a move to unlock the door just yet.
author's note â nothing really developed as usual, but i looooove writing est. relationship!bangtan bc i believe these men deserves the best so i write them the best (not always abhahahaha). NEways, thank you for reading!
summary: summer. italy. the 2000s. two strangers from opposite sides of the world. they only shared a few weeks togetherâ a handful of late nights, endless laughter, and words lost between languages. but unlike most, some loves donât disappear when summer ends.
themes: reader is american, taehyung is south korean, romance, fluff, smut, so much angst oh my god, strangers to lovers, love at first sight, summer romance, established relationship, y/n is reminiscing, intense love it's sick, slight language barrier, yearning, limited time, lowk soulmates, taehyung is a sweetheart, confessions, right person wrong time
warnings: drinking, i cried while writing the ending, explicit & descriptive smut, MINORS DNI 18+ (dom!tae, oral m&f, fingering, unprotected sex, missionary, praise, cream pie)
word count : 14k
âŹâ.Ë "thinking bout you" - ariana grande
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
there are certain summers that never really leave you. most of them blur together after awhileâ sunburnt afternoons, crowded streets, cheap liquor, music drifting through open windows.
they fade in the way old pictures do, slowly loosing their color until all they have to offer are soft outlines of memories.
but that summer in italy never faded.
you remembered everything about it. from the way the air smelled like cigarettes and espresso, and the golden light that lit up narrow alleyways every evening that made the city glow.
and the fountain in milan.
it was small, tucked into a quiet piazza you had wandered into by accident on your second day there. water spilled lazily over worn marble, catching the last light of the sunset. people passed through the square without really noticing it, but you remember thinking it felt like the kind of place meant for slowing down.
that's where you met him.
sitting on the edge of the fountain, letting the cool mist of the water hit your legs after walking all afternoon. the sky had turned that soft shade of orange and pink that only seems to exist for a few minutes before the night settles in.
you were tracing the lines of the fountain with your fingers when you felt itâthat strange, unexplainable feeling of being watched. nothing uneasy... just aware.
when you looked up, he was standing on the other side of the fountain.
tall, quiet, hands resting loosely in the pockets of his jacket. the fading sunlight caught in his fluffy black hair and softened the edges of his face, turning everything around him golden for a moment. he was in his early twenties like you, his features sharp and soft at the same time.
he didn't look like he was from here. you could tell in the way he moved through the square, pausing to take everything inâthe buildings, the people, the fading light. like he was trying to memorize the moment.
he was looking straight at you. not in a quick, passing way like strangers usually do. he was really looking.
your eyes met across the fountain, and something your chest shifted so suddenly it almost startled you.
it was the strangest feelingâlike recognition without explanation. like you had somehow arrived in the same moment from opposite ends of the world. he didnât look away, and neither did you. something about the eye contact you exchanged made your breath catch so lightly you barely noticed it.
for a few seconds, the sounds of the piazzaâthe water, the laughter, the distant music drifting from somewhere down the streetâseemed to fade into the background. there was just the quiet space between you. and the feeling, sharp and electric, that something had just begun.
at the time, you didnât know his name. you didnât know he was from south korea, or that you would only have a few weeks before the summer ended.
all you knew was that when he smiled at youâsmall, almost shyâsomething warm and unfamiliar spread through your chest.
the kind of feeling someone doesn't forget. the kind that makes you wonder, years later, how your life might have been different if you had looked away first. but neither of you did.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
august 2003
for a moment neither of you moved. the sky had deepened into that soft shade between sunset and evening, when everything in the city turns warm and dim.
then he did something small that made your heart jump. he let out a laugh. not loudlyâjust a soft, surprised laugh under his breath, like he had caught himself staring for too long.
he ran a hand through his hair and glanced away for a second before looking back at you again, a little sheepish. that's when he walked over.
you watched him circle around the fountain slowly, like he was giving himself time to decide whether he should actually come talk to you.
when he reached the side where you were sitting, he stopped a few feet away. âhi,â he said. his voice was gentle but deep, a mysterious accent curled around the word in a way that made it sound softer somehow.
âhi,â you answered.
for a second, he looked relieved that you replied. then he leaned back slightly against the stone edge of the fountain, close enough now that you could see the way the last light of the sunset caught in his eyes.
âyou are⊠visiting?â he asked carefully.
you nodded. âyeah. from the states.â
something bright flickered across his face. âah,â he said, smiling a little wider now. âamerica.â
there was a pause. not an awkward one exactlyâjust the kind that happens when two strangers are trying to figure each other out.
âand you?â you asked with a smile.
he hesitated for half a second. âiâm from south korea,â he said finally, tapping his chest lightly with his hand.
something about the way he said it made you smile. âwow,â you said softly. âthatâs⊠far.â
he laughed again, this time with a little more ease. âyes,â he said. âvery far.â
for a small moment, you both looked out at the water pouring over the fountain, the city around you beginning to glow with evening lights. then he glanced at you again, almost curious. âyou like italy?â he asked.
you shrugged slightly. "i think i do now.â
he tilted his head. ânow?â
you smiled without thinking. "yeah."
and for the first time since you'd started talking, he looked directly at you again in that same quiet way he had across the fountain. like he understood something unspoken between you, even though you had only just met.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
the sky had turned into a dark blue by the time you realized how long you'd been sitting there. somewhere down the street a musician had started playing a guitar, the music drifting through the warm night air.
he glanced at the sound, then back at you. âwalk?â he asked, gesturing toward the street with a small, hopeful smile.
you hesitated for half a second. you had no idea where you were going. you barely knew this manâyou'd only spoken a handful of sentences to each other. but somehow, it didnât feel strange at all.
âokay,â you agreed. his smile widened, quick and bright.
you fell into step beside each other, leaving the quiet piazza behind as you wandered deeper into the city.
small restaurants spilled light and conversation onto the sidewalks, people lingering at outdoor tables with glasses of wine. scooters hummed past you every few minutes while the smell of fresh bread drifted through the air from somewhere nearby.
every so often he would point something out. âbeautiful,â he said once, nodding toward an old building lit up against the dark sky. his english was good, but his unfamiliarity with speaking out loud to an american coated his sentences with shyness and nerves.
âwhatâs your name?â you asked after a while.
he looked at you, a little surprised, like the thought hadnât occurred to him yet. "taehyung," he said.
you repeated it somewhat terribly at first, earning you a soft laugh from him. his laugh lit a fire inside your stomach and you tried again, cheeks red until you got it right.
"yours?" he asked with a smile, coming down from your shared fit of laughter.
"y/n," you replied.
"y/n..." he repeated with hesitation, accent swirling over the pronunciation. "pretty. never heard before."
you felt your face get hot. you kept walking like thatâtalking in slow sentences, laughing when one of you misunderstood the other. sometimes, there were long pauses when neither of you knew what to say next, but they never felt uncomfortable.
eventually, you turned a corner and found yourselves in front of a small bar tucked between two old buildings. music poured out through the open doorsâsomething upbeat and loud, people laughing inside. he stopped walking.
âyou like⊠drink?â he asked.
you raised an eyebrow. âyouâre asking if I like drinking?â
he grinned, clearly pleased heâd gotten the sentence right. âyes.â
"yeah," you laughed. "i like drinking."
inside, the bar the air was warm and loud, filled with conversation and music. someone was clapping along to the song playing through the speakers, and a group of people near the counter were dancing in the tiny space between tables.
you squeezed in at the bar together, shoulder to shoulder. he ordered for you both in careful, but pristine italian. you were undoubtedly impressed. you just met this man and he had already spoken three different languages.
when the drinks came, he lifted his glass toward you. âtoâŠâ he paused, thinking hard. âto meeting,â he finished with a grin.
you smiled and tapped your glass lightly against his. "to meeting.â
the music got louder, people started dancing closer to you, and before you knew it you two were laughing like you'd known each other longer than just a couple hours.
"you ever been to the states?" you asked, to which he shook his head.
"i want to go sometime," he replied, a dreamy smile on his face.
at some point while you were almost done with your drink, he grabbed your hand to pull you toward the small open space where people were dancing. it happened so naturally that you barely had time to act. "come," he said, a large, cheeky smile plastered across his face.
"i don't know this song," you laughed.
"that's okay," he said, his hand was still wrapped around yours, warm and steady. when you reached the middle of the small crowd, he let go just long enough to turn and face you.
for a second, you both hesitated. then he placed one hand lightly at your waist. the touch was careful at first, like he was giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. you didnât.
the music shifted into something slower, softer. he moved a little closer. not enough to startle you, but just enough that you could feel the warmth of him through the thin fabric of your dress.
âlike this?â he asked quietly, glancing down at both your shoes.
you nodded. "like this.â
you started moving together slowly, almost instinctively. neither of you were dancing in any structured way--you were just swaying gently to the music, steps small and unhurried. but it felt strangely easy, like you had done this before.
his hand rested at the small of your back now, steady and warm. your hand had found its way to his shoulder without you even realizing it, and your fingers were still loosely intertwined.
every so often, he would look down to make sure he wasnât stepping on your feet. every time he looked back up, you caught him watching you again, the noise of the bar fading into the background.
all you could really focus on was the quiet rhythm of the music and the way he was looking at youâsoft, curious, like he was trying to memorize it.
âyou dance⊠good,â he said eventually, a little breathless.
you laughed. âiâm barely dancing.â
he smiled. âstill good.â
he spun you once when the music picked up again, laughing when you nearly lost your balance. his grip on you tightened just slightly, steadying you before pulling you back toward him.
you ended up closer than before. close enough that you could see the tiny crease in his eyebrow when he smiled. close enough that the rest of the room seemed to disappear entirely. it was the kind of quiet closeness you only get after knowing someone for years.
but you had only met a few hours ago.
he must have felt it too, because his expression softened in that same thoughtful way you had noticed earlier by the fountain. neither of you spoke, just kept moving slowly with the music, his hand still resting at your back, fingers still loosely tangled together.
and when you think about that night, you realized that was the moment everything changed. not the first glance across the fountain. not the walk through the city.
it was standing there in that crowded little bar, swaying to music neither of you knew, feeling like somehow you had stepped into a version of time where you had always known each other.
and maybe, for that one summer, you did.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
by the time you two stepped outside, the city had finally come to a quiet and the summer air felt cooler now, the heat of the day fading from the stone streets.
the music from the bar behind you spilled out in muffled waves, but everything else felt still. the two of you just stood there. taehyung looked at you like he had something to say. instead, he just smiled.
"walk more?" he asked.
you nodded. "i'm not ready for this night to end yet."
something in his expression softened at that. "me too."
you both started down the street together again, slower this time. the city at night felt differentâquieter, more intimate. most of the restaurants had dimmed their lights, and couples lingered at the last few outdoor tables with half-finished glasses of wine.
your shoulders brushed occasionally as you walked, neither of you moving away. after a while he asked, âyou travel alone?â
âyeah,â you admitted. something you wouldnât normally do to a man you just met. âjust this summer.â
he nodded thoughtfully. âi'm here to visit,â he said. âmy cousin lives here.â
âand after?â
âi go back to korea.â there was something about the way he said it that made the reality of it settle quietly between both of you. korea. the word felt impossibly far away. you walked farther in silence.
eventually you ended up in another small square, one right in front of your hotel. a few dim streetlights cast soft yellow circles across the cobblestones.
you sat down on the low stone edge of a planter, stretching your legs slightly after all the walking. he stood in front of you for a moment, height almost blocking your vision before sitting beside you. close. close enough that your knees brushed.
âyour name,â he said suddenly, looking at you again. âsay it again?â
you told him again as he repeated it slowly this time, careful with every syllable. the way it sounded in his voice made something warm spread through your chest.
âyou say mine better now,â he said with a small smile.
âi practiced,â you teased.
he laughed. something about the way he laughed tugged at your heartstrings. it was different. it was authenticâ unashamed. it was different from the boys back home who tried so hard to act nonchalant. he laughed like every word you said was overly enjoyable to him. it made you giggle.
the quiet between you felt heavier now, charged with something neither of you had quite acknowledged yet.
when you turned your head, you realized he was already looking at you. brown eyes boring into yours like he had been trying to decide something. your breath caught slightly.
you were close enough now that you could feel the faint rise and fall of his chest when he breathed. close enough that if either of you leaned forward even a little...
neither of you moved. but the space between you felt electric. it was almost making you dizzy.
his eyes dropped briefly to your lips before lifting again. a nervous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. âi think,â he said slowly, searching for the words, âmaybe⊠tonight was very good.â
you laughed softly. "yeah. i think so too."
for a second longer you stayed there like thatâtoo close, the air between you thick with the kind of tension that makes your heart beat louder than usual.
and then he leaned back slightly, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to shake the moment away. âtomorrow,â he said after a pause, looking at me again. âyou're free?â
your heart skipped. âyeah."
he smiled again. and somehow the promise of seeing him again tomorrow felt even more exciting than if you had kissed right then.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
you woke up the next morning still thinking about him.
for a moment you thought maybe the night before had felt bigger in my memory than it really was. maybe it was a dream. because sometimes, things that happen while on vacation feel more intense than they actually are.
but then, you checked the small slip of paper sitting on the table beside your bed. his handwriting was careful, a little uneven in places.
a time and a place. with his name again, just in case you forgot how to spell it. you smiled to yourself without realizing you were doing so.
when you arrived at the piazza that afternoon, he was already there.
leaning against the edge of the fountain like he had been the night before, hands in the pockets of his jacket, watching the people move through the square. but the moment he spotted you, his whole face brightened. âhi,â he said.
âhi," you smiled.
for a second, you both just stood there smiling at each other like you had forgotten how to start a normal conversation. then he said, almost casually, âyou want to see something beautiful today?â
you laughed. "that sounds mysterious.â
âtrust me,â he said. and for some reason, you did.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
the train ride was short, but the whole time, taehyung kept glancing out the window like he was waiting for a moment he recognized. when you finally stepped off at the small station, the air felt different.
you walked down a narrow street lined with pale buildings and flower boxes until suddenly the road opened up. and there it was.
the one and only, lake como stretched out in front of you like glass, greenery and flowers blooming along the edges of the glittery water that reflected the pale blue sky and the mountains rising around it.
you stopped walking without realizing it. âoh my god," you exhaled softly.
he watched your reaction more than the view in front of you two. âyou like it?â
âi love it,â you gushed. âi didn't think i'd get to see it.â
âfirst time?â
âyeah.â
he smiled, looking pleased with himself. âgood.â
eventually, you both found a quiet stretch of stone steps leading down to the water.
you sat there side by side, your feet just a few inches above the gentle ripples of the bright blue lake. the mountains reflected in the water, boats drifting slowly in the distance, the warm breeze moving softly through the trees.
it felt like time had slowed down, like it barely existed.
âyou travel a lot?â he asked after a while.
ânot really,â you said. âthis is the first time Iâve done something like this.â
he nodded thoughtfully. âgood choice.â
"yeah." you giggled. "i think so too."
you turned to look at him and realized he was already watching you. his eyes carefully scanning your expression, the kind of look that makes you suddenly aware of how close someone is sitting. your heart started beating a little faster.
âyou're quiet today,â he said.
âi'm just... taking it all in.â
âthe lake?â he asked.
you smiled. âpartly.â
something about that made him laugh softly, the sound lingering in the air before he shifted closer. you both held the eye contact as he carefully tucked a loose piece of hair behind your earâ away from your face, like he needed to see every inch of it. your breath caught and this time, he noticed.
"can i?" he asked quietly. you nodded before he could even finish the sentence, and the space between you closed.
the kiss was soft at first, like you were both trying to make sure the moment was real. nonetheless, it sent sparks throughout both of your bodies, igniting something between you two. suddenly, it felt like this was meant to happen.
you both melted into the kiss as his hand cupped your cheek lightly while yours curved instinctively into the front of his shirt.
the world around you seemed to go silent-- the lake, the distant chatter, the gentle waves of the water. it felt like it all disappeared. like you were the only two people there.
when you finally pulled apart, you both laughed a little, slightly breathless. âwell,â you said, catching your breath.
âwell,â he echoed, looking out across the lake again. he shook his head with a small smile. ânow this place... even more beautiful.â
you nudged his shoulder. âyou're cheesy.â
âa little only,â he replied.
but when he glanced back at you again, the look in his eyes was softer than before. like something between you was blooming.
and sitting there beside him with the sun reflecting off the water, you realized something you probably should have been more careful about.
you didnât want this day to end.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
the idea to rent the boat had been his. you hadnât even noticed the small dock until he pointed to it.
âlet's go?â he asked, nodding toward the little motorboats tied along the waterâs edge before gently taking a hold of your hand.
âare we allowed to just⊠take one?â you asked.
he laughed loudly. âwe rent.â
âoh. right.â
a few minutes later, you were gliding slowly out across lake como, the water stretching endlessly around you while the small towns along the shore grew smaller in the distance.
you sat at the front of the boat, one hand trailing just above the surface of the lake. the water sparkled in the late afternoon sun, and the mountains surrounding you looked unreal.
âyouâre smiling,â he commented from behind you.
you turned around. âi canât help it. this is⊠ridiculous.â
âridiculous?â
âin the best way,â you said. âyesterday, i was wandering around alone in the city. today, i'm on a boat on lake como with someone i met at a fountain.â
he grinned. âlife is... a surprise.â
âthatâs one way to put it.â
the boat drifted farther out toward the middle of the lake before he slowed the motor. the quiet out here felt different from the city. no traffic, no crowdsâ just the gentle sound of the water brushing against the sides of the boat and the distant hum of birds somewhere along the mountains.
by the time the sun started lowering behind the peaks, the whole lake had turned golden, kissed with pinks and oranges. you leaned back against the side of the boat, watching the light ripple across the water.
âitâs beautiful,â you said softly. he nodded with a smile.
then after a moment he asked, âwhy travel alone?â
you glanced at him. "why not?â
he smiled faintly. ânot an answer.â
you laughed. "fair.â for a second, you didn't know how honest you wanted to be. but the quiet of the lake and the comfort that beamed off of him made it feel easier.
âi guess i just⊠needed something different,â you exhaled. âlife at home was starting to feel predictable.â
he tilted his head slightly. âyou run away?â
âmaybe a little,â you admitted.
âwhat from?â
you shrugged. ânothing dramatic. just the feeling that i was doing everything i was supposed to do without actually enjoying any of it.â
he watched you carefully while you spoke.
âschool. work. plans. it's so repetitive," you sighed.
âand now?â
you gestured around the two of you. ânow, Iâm sitting in the middle of a lake in italy with a man i met yesterday.â
that made him laugh quietly. "better plan."
"much better."
âwhat about you?â you asked. âwhy are you here?â
he leaned back against the seat, staring out across the water. "my aunt and cousin,â he said. âthey said i should visit.â
âand you just decide to spend time with me instead?â
he shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips, struggling to fight another laugh. âwhy not?"
âyou're very spontaneous.â
âmaybe.â
you studied him for a moment. âyou seem like someone who doesnât do things halfway.â
that made him glance back at you. âwhat does that mean?â
âi donât know,â you said. âyou just seem⊠intense.â
he laughed again. âintense?â
"a little."
he didn't deny it. the boat rocked gently beneath you as the sun dipped lower. eventually he moved closer, sitting beside you at the front, shoulders brushing.
âyou're happy you came here?â he asked quietly.
you turned to him. âvery.â
his gaze lingered on yours for a second longer than usual. then his large hand found yours again, fingers sliding between yours naturally, like they had done it a hundred times before. your heart thumped through your chest as heat creeped up your face.
the lake had grown darker now, the last light of sunset reflecting across the water in soft streaks. you both didn't talk for some time, the quiet felt full of something unspoken.
âyou know,â he said softly, âi think maybe... best day of my trip.â
your heart fluttered slightly. "me too."
then, almost absentmindedly, his thumb brushed gently across the back of your hand. the gesture was small. but the warmth of it was enough to send a wave of electricity through you.
the sky deepened into purple and gold around you as the sun finally disappeared behind the mountains.
and sitting there in the fading light on the quiet water of lake como, you had the strange feeling that you were living inside a moment you would remember for the rest of your life.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
the restaurant he chose sat right along the edge of the water.
from the terrace, you could still see the darkening outline of the mountains around the lake, the reflections stretching across the dark water like soft shadows. lanterns hung above the outdoor tables, casting warm golden light over the small crowd of people eating and talking quietly.
when the waiter led the both of you to your table, you realized the lake was only a few feet away. âthis place is beautiful,â you said.
he pulled your chair out before you took a seat. he went to take a seat across from you, smiling. ânot as beautiful.â
you looked up at him. âwhat?â
he shrugged a little, suddenly looking almost shy. âyou.â
your face warmed immediately. âyou're just saying that.â
he shook his head, resting his elbows lightly on the table. âno." his voice almost stern. "i thought it yesterday too.â
for a moment, neither of you looked away, eye colors practically melting into one another. the candle between you flickered softly in the breeze, but everything else felt strangely still.
eventually, you laughed nervously and picked up your menu. âyouâre distracting me.â
he grinned. âgood.â
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
dinner stretched on longer than it should have. partly because the food was good, but mostly because neither of you wanted to stop talking. or looking at each other. sometimes, you'd pause mid-conversation and realize you were both just staring.
âyou do that a lot,â you teased at one point.
âwhat?â
âlook at me like that.â
he tilted his head slightly. âlike what?â
âlike youâre trying to figure something out.â
he thought about it for a second. âmaybe i am.â
âand what have you figured out so far?â
he leaned back in his chair, studying you again with that thoughtful expression. âthat... i like you,â he said simply.
the flat honesty of it caught you off guard, but your heart skipped a beat. "you only met me yesterday."
"yes," he agreed.
"and you already decided that?"
he smiled. "you made it easy to decide."
you tried to laugh it off, but the warmth spreading through your chest made it difficult. the waiter brought another bottle of wine, and the conversation drifted to lighter thingsâmusic, travel, stories from home.
but the feeling between you never really faded. every time your hands brushed reaching for the same glass or plate, the touch lingered a second too long. the sparks traveled through your bodies.
every time your eyes met, neither of you looked away first.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
by the time you two got off the train, the evening air of the summer had finally cooled and the town grew quiet.
the walk back was different from the one earlier that day. this time, the silence stretched, but the distance between you two was almost closed entirely. your hands found each others immediately as you stepped onto the street.
after walking for awhile without speaking, he stopped suddenly. you turned to him. "what's wrong?"
"nothing." he said softly. but he didn't move. you two were standing close again, enough that you could feel his warmth and smell his cologne against the cold, night air.
âyou're quiet,â you said.
âiâm thinking.â
âabout what?â
he looked down at you, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. âthat if i donât kiss you now, i might regret it.â
your breath caught and the moment stretched for half a second. you stepped closer and that was all it took. his hand slid to your waist as he pulled you toward him, and the kiss came suddenlyâstronger than earlier, like all the tension from the entire day had finally snapped.
the world around you disappeared. like you and him were the only ones to exist in that moment. the empty street and the music that hummed quietly somewhere in the distance; it all faded into the background as the kiss deepened, slower but somehow more intense.
when you finally pulled apart, you were both a little breathless. he rested his forehead lightly against yours, laughing under his breath.
âi think,â he said softly, âthis day was dangerous.â
you smiled. âwhy?â
his eyes poured into yours. âbecause now, i donât want it to end.â and standing there in the warm summer night, you realized you didnât want it to end either.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
by the time you reached your hotel, the streets were completely bare. the warm hum of the town had faded into something quieterâjust the distant sound of water against the docks and the occasional echo of your footsteps down the street.
you slowed as you reached the entrance. the lantern above the door cast a soft golden light over the stone walls, and suddenly you became very aware of how close he was standing.
you turned, and for a moment, you both just looked at each other. the whole day seemed to settle between you two at onceâthe lake, the boat ride, the sunset, the dinner where neither of you could stop staring.
taehyung's hand brushed lightly against yours before his slim fingers closed around it. âyouâre thinking,â he said softly.
âmaybe.â
âabout what?â
you laughed nervously, glancing toward the hotel entrance behind you. âthat i should probably say goodnight.â
âprobably,â he agreed. but neither of you moved. instead, he stepped a little closer. the small movement sent a quiet rush of warmth through your chest.
âyou know,â he said, his voice lower now, âiâve been trying to be very... polite tonight.â
âoh?â you said.
âyes.â
âand why is that?â
his thumb brushed slowly across the back of your hand. âif i wasnât,â he said, âi would kiss you again.â
your breath caught. âyou could have done that anyway.â
a slow smile appeared on his face. âgood to know.â
the space between you disappeared almost instantly. his hand slid softly to your waist as he pulled you closer. when he kissed you this time, it felt deeper than beforeâslow and warm, like he had been thinking about doing it all evening.
after what felt like hours, you both pulled away, smiling as you each tried to catch your breath back. you turned and headed for the doors behind you while taehyung held it open for you.
you stepped into the empty, dimly lit hotel lobby without letting go of each other's hands. luckily, your room was only a short walk down the hallway. when you reached your door, you suddenly felt nervous again. he noticed. âyou okay?â he asked softly.
you nodded, fumbling slightly with the key. âyeah.â the door clicked open. you stepped inside and he followed, closing it quietly behind him.
you both just stood there in the soft lamplight of the room, the same charged silence filling the space between you again. then, he stepped closer. his hand lifted gently to brush a strand of hair away from your face again, his fingers lingering for a second at your cheek.
âyouâre beautiful,â he said quietly.
the way the words left his tongue with meaning made your heart race. before you could think of anything to say back, his hand slid to your waist again, drawing you closer to his chest.
taehyung kissed you once more that night, deeper this time. but it wasn't rushed at all, like he wanted to take all the time in the world with you. his touch was gentle, but there was something confident in the way he held you, like he already knew this was meant to be.
the room felt warmer suddenly. like the rest of the world had vanished somewhere beyond the window.
and for a moment, standing there in the soft light of your hotel room, the only thing that seemed real was the feeling of his hands around you and the quiet, undeniable pull between you.
your fingers clutched his shirt eagerly, pulling him closer to your height. he took it as a signal to deepen the kiss, one of his hands resting firmly at your hips while the other was lost in your hair. he was so close now that his nose brushed against yours while your lips continued to collide.
âi don't think i have ever wanted to kiss someone this much," he breathed as you pulled apart only briefly for air. you laughed softly, blush warming up your cheeks. "neither have i."
the sight made his heart skip, the sound of your laughter fading when he kissed you again, slower this time. "see?" he whispered against your lips. "you make it hard to behave."
you shyly giggled when suddenly, your back gently hit the wall as he kissed you again. your palms explored his hair, falling to his clothed chest and down his abdomen that felt like it was made out of steel. he grunted, smiling into the kiss before softly tugging your lower lip between his teeth.
you made a noise to which he hummed, effortlessly sliding his tongue into your mouth. you responded, attempting to fight his tongue off with yours before failing. you could almost moan as he hungrily explored your mouth. his hands slid lower down your body before pulling away, a string of saliva connecting you two before disappearing with gravity.
"this is okay?" he asked softly, breathless.
you nodded, also trying to find your breath. "yes."
then, he slid his big palms below you before suddenly picking you up, legs straddling his waist. you yelped, caught off guard before erupting in laughter which earned a big smile from him. he kissed you again, his hands resting below your ass. the kiss didn't break as he softly put you down on the bed.
he hummed into the kiss. "you taste like wine."
you broke the kiss. "oh, shut up." your head tilted back in laughter, but taehyung saw it as an opportunity. he grabbed your thighs and slid you closer to him before pressing a soft kiss behind your ear.
then another one. "i mean it." his voice was deep as he placed another one. the kisses got lower and sloppier, becoming more wet and open-mouthed as he trailed down your neck before stopping at your collarbone where he started to suck at your skin lightly.
you moaned, unable to keep it in anymore and he noticeably sucked in a breath at the sound. you intertwined your fingers with his long ones before guiding them down to the hem of your top.
"are you sure?" he asked one last time, his fingers resting lazily at the bottom, tracing lightly against your stomach. before you could respond, one of his hands came up to your cheek. he gently guided your chin up to look at him fully.
"yes, taehyung. i'm sure," you said, eyes big and doe-eyed, looking right into his. he smiled, passion swirling between his pupils as he placed a light peck on your lips, his fingers curling into your top before you pulled it off.
taehyung didn't hesitate to openly admire your exposed upper body, his eyes scanning you with a hint of darkness as you grabbed him closer, engulfing him into another kiss. he was on top of you at this point, his large figure blocking your view as he kissed you with need, kissed you like he's been waiting for this his whole life.
his hands traveled across your body like it was his already, cupping your boobs and sliding his hand up and down your inner thighs. you were already a wet, whimpering mess underneath him as he inserted his knee between your legs, putting the slightest pressure on your clothed pussy.
you tugged at his shirt eagerly, manicured nails fumbling to get the buttons un-done. he laughed into the kiss before pulling away and finishing what you started, discarding the fabric somewhere in your room.
your jaw dropped. for a young man in his early twenties, you could already tell that he spent half of his time back home in korea at the gym. his shoulders were incredibly broad, muscles big and swell on his arms while his six-pack of abs practically gleamed in the light of the night.
you couldn't help but run your hands all over his chest as he came back to the bed to hover over you again. "you like?" he smirked.
you nodded before quickly pulling him into another kiss. it wasn't long before taehyung leaned lower, pressing his hard, clothed cock against your pussy. you moaned out as he trailed his fingers over your area, smirking at the wetness already present.
his hand hooked at the top of your skirt, giving you one last look to which you nodded. before you knew it, you were completely exposed underneath the man you met two days ago. but it just felt right. because by the way he looked at you, you knew you didn't have anything to hide or be ashamed of.
"you're so beautiful... do you know that?" he murmured against your lips. you whimpered in response, his words making your head dizzy. he began to rub his thick fingers against your panties before pulling them to the side and entering one inside of you.
you cried out in a moan, which caused taehyung to immediately litter you in soft kisses. it had been so long. "you're okay... i got you baby.â
he gently caressed your face with one hand, his brown eyes holding your gaze intensely. your pussy clenched around him at the nickname that rolled off his tongue as he added another finger, your wetness practically spilling out as he thrusted his fingers in and out.
before you could even process it, taehyung was pulling away from you, his free hand pulling your panties to the side and dipping his head straight into your core. your thighs nearly crushed his head in a mix of pleasure and shock, immediately moaning his name while he started with gentle licks, veiny hands softly prying your legs back open.
his three fingers continued to plunge inside of you while his tongue hungrily explored your walls, preparing you for something much larger. you gripped at his hair, absentmindedly pulling him deeper into you. he laid his tongue flat against your folds before licking a long, slow strip up. you groaned as he picked his pace up again.
he could feel your walls clenching around him as he guided you to your release, his thumb circling your clit while your back arched off of the mattress in pleasure. soon, your orgasm ripped through you like lightning, and taehyung's fingers were covered in your slick before he licked the rest away with ease. something about that made you squirm underneath him.
"did such a good job," he huffed, licking at his lips.
"taehyung, i need you," you moaned breathlessly, hands trailing up his leg to rest over his hardness. you greedily palmed at his cock that was now twitching under your touch.
"i need you too." he groaned, intertwining your hand with his to place a kiss at the top. he quickly climbed off the bed and tugged his belt off with ease, his pants hitting the ground with a soft thud. there it was, a large imprint of his cock angrily bulging through his boxers.
"you have no idea what you're doing to me," he muttered, voice so low you could almost swear you felt the vibration from it. he stood at the edge of the bed while you took him in, peering up at him as your fingers teasingly trailed up from the tip of his cock to the rim of his briefs.
finally, after what felt like hours of getting lost in each other's eyes, you pulled down his boxers, letting his member spring out freely in front of you. it twisted up, almost hitting his metal abs while leaking with pre-cum. he admired you from above while you gawked at it's true size, sitting at the edge of the bed.
it wasn't long before you wrapped your hand around it, slowly trying to take the width into your mouth. he groaned loudly as your lips enclosed around his cock, trying your best to fit in every inch, but failing. his fingers found themselves in your hair as he guided your head back and forth, hissing in pleasure.
you looked up at him after a few minutes, darkness twirling around his brown eyes before he pulled you off gently. he held your face lightly in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead before laying you down on the bed. "need to be inside."
you gasped for air as he climbed on top of you, engulfing you in one last kiss before lining himself at your entrance. the kiss was slow this time, infatuation and desire flowing through the both of you. you noticeably winced as his tip slowly broke in through your entrance.
he cooed in your ear as he pushed it in further, your walls almost sucking him in immediately as he practically split you open. you cried out, not at all used to his size. he quickly came to a stop, letting you take it in before proceeding any further.
"look at me," he whispered. your shut eyes opened, gaping up at his face that was barely inches away from yours. he looked at you in awe, like you were made out of glass that he was too scared to break. "stay with me baby."
finally, you let him move and he slid himself all the way in, breaking past your entrance and hitting the back of your walls with his tip. your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in closer and sinking his cock deeper into you. your walls squeezed around him, earning a deep, guttural moan from him.
"tell me if⊠too much," he breathed, hot breath spilling down your neck as he peppered kisses behind your ear.
"no," you blurted, gasping for air. "feels so right."
after a few careful thrusts, taehyung quickly picked up his pace. the lewd sound of skin to skin slapping filled the room as stars filled your vision. his tip repeatedly hit the back of your pussy at an angle, bulge visibly fucking you when you looked at your stomach. your nails dug into him, leaving sharp red lines along his sturdy back.
he pulled out almost all the way before ramming himself back inside of you again, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. every thrust sent waves of euphoria through your bodies, sweat combining as he dragged his body against yours. his cock explored your insides like he had done it a million times before. like you were made for each other.
"taehyung," you cried. "don't fucking stop."
he practically growled in your ear in response. his pace was ruthless, his wide cock stretching and dragging along your walls as you whimpered endlessly beneath him. pressure began to build up in your core, tight and hotter than it ever felt in your entire life. every plunge of taehyung's cock pushed you farther into exhilaration.
"need you to come," he said, hands gripping tighter at your waist to push himself farther into you, his thick eyebrows furrowing together in concentration. "on me baby."
and for the second time that night, your orgasm ripped through you like a tsunami, walls tightening around taehyung's cock like a vacuum. you moaned out his name, clutching onto his body like you couldn't let go. "need it inside, taehyung." you cried brokenly.
he groaned at your words, cursing in korean while licking a stripe from your ear down to your neck with his tongue. your release created a slosh of wetness around his dick as he kept thrusting into you, eventually letting himself go and spilling his hot seed inside of you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. his body twitched against yours as your heart beats fell into sync.
mixed, hot cum sunk into the sheets of your hotel bed as taehyung landed beside you, smile wide as he attacked your face with gentle kisses. you erupted in breathless giggles as he pulled you closer to his chest, nuzzling his nose in the crevice of your neck.
âtoday with youâŠ" he started, voice low as he caressed your face with his thumb fondly. "i won't forget it.â
"me neither," you smiled.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
the first thing you noticed was the sunlight. it slipped through the thin hotel curtains in pale gold lines, warming the quiet room and the rumpled sheets around you.
your mind was still somewhere between sleep and memoryâthe lake, the dinner, the walk through the quiet streets.
then, you felt an arm shift slightly around your waist. you blinked and suddenly, everything came rushing back. taehyung was still asleep beside you, one arm still loosely draped over you.
the soft morning light made him look different somehow. less mysterious than the night before. he looked calmer and younger, almost. a strand of his hair had fallen across his forehead, and his breathing was slow and steady.
it was supposed to feel strangeâwaking up next to someone you had only met two days ago. yet it didnât feel strange at all. like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.
as if sensing you move, he shifted slightly and opened his eyes. for a second, he looked confused. then, he saw you, a slow smile spreading across his face. âmorning,â he murmured, voice still rough with sleep.
âmorning," you smiled.
he rubbed a hand across his face, blinking at the sunlight. âyou're staring at me.â
you laughed softly. âyou were staring at me yesterday.â
âthat is different.â
âhow?â
he thought about it for a second. âyesterday... i was trying to figure you out.â
âand today?â
he looked at you again, his expression softer now. âtoday, iâm just happy youâre still here.â
something warm spread through your chest at that. outside, somewhere down the street, a bike buzzed past and a church bell rang faintly in the distance. the town was waking up, but neither of you moved.
instead, he reached out and brushed his fingers lightly along your arm, like he was making sure you were real. âyou sleep okay?â he asked.
âyeah,â you said. âyou?â
he nodded. then after a moment he said, half-teasing, âyou snore a little."
you sat up immediately. âi do not.â
he laughed loudly, pulling you gently back down beside him. ârelax,â he said, smiling. âjoking.â
you nudged his shoulder. âyouâre mean in the morning.â
âa little only.â
you laid there quietly for a moment, the sunlight slowly filling the room. then he glanced at the window. âwhat are we doing today?â
you shrugged. âi donât know.â
he looked back at you, smiling again. "good."
"why?"
âyesterday we had no plan,â he laced his fingers through yours lazily before pressing a small kiss on top. âand it was the best day.â
you two squeezed into a small table by the street. soon enough, a waiter brought two cappuccinos and a basket of warm pastries.
you hadnât realized how hungry you were until the first bite. taehyung watched you with a smile. âwhat?â you asked.
âyou look happy.â
âi am happy,â you said. âiâm in italy eating pastries.â
he leaned back slightly in his chair. âwith me.â
you raised an eyebrow. âdonât get cocky now.â
he laughed softly. but his eyes stayed on yours longer than necessary. every so often, his hand would drift across the small table, brushing your fingers, like he couldnât quite stop himself.
at one point, he said quietly, âyouâre very beautiful in the morning.â
you laughed. âi definitely am not.â
âyou are.â the way he said it made it hard to argue.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
by the time you got back to the hotel, the streets were busier. but the moment the lobby door closed behind you two, the bustling noise of the city faded away.
there was something in the air againâthe same charged silence from the night before. when you reached your door, you barely had time to unlock it before he gently pulled you closer against him.
âyou always walk slow?â he murmured.
âmaybe i like the suspense.â
he laughed quietly. inside the room, the sunlight had grown warmer, spilling across the floor. for a moment, you just stood there again, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him. his hand slid lightly around your waist.
âyou know,â he said softly, âi was trying to behave again.â
âagain?â you teased.
âyes.â
âand howâs that going?â
his smile was slow. "not very good."
the kiss came naturally after thatâsoft at first, like neither of you were in a hurry. the kind of slow, lingering closeness that makes time feel like itâs stretching. his hand brushed gently along your back while you laughed quietly against his shoulder.
âyouâre distracting,â you said.
âyou invited me back.â
âtrue.â
the room filled with soft laughter and quiet whispers as noon blurred slowly into something warmer and more intimate. eventually you ended up tangled in the sheets again, taehyung thrusting into you from behind, spilling tender words into your ear once more.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
later, when the room had gone quiet again, you both ended up sitting near the open window. the warm breeze from the water drifted through the curtains. below you, the town moved slowly through the afternoonâpeople walking, scooters passing, distant voices echoing through the streets.
he sat beside you on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. âyou leave when?â he asked suddenly.
the question caught you off guard. âtwo weeks,â you said, to which he nodded slowly. âand you?â
âfew days after.â
the words hung in the air between you. for the first time since you met, something about the moment felt fragile. temporary.
you glanced at him as you felt your stomach churn. "you're thinking again."
he smiled faintly. "always."
"about what now?"
he looked at you now, expression softer than before. "that i met you in the wrong country."
your heart fluttered at that and he studied your face. then he reached over and laced his fingers with yours again.
outside the window, the sunlight shimmered across the water of the distant lake. and sitting there beside him, you had the quiet, unsettling feeling that this summerâthis strange, perfect moment in timeâwas already beginning to slip away.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
a few nights later, you found yourselves on a hill overlooking the town. someone at a bar had told you two about it earlier that dayâa quiet viewpoint where locals sometimes came to watch the stars once the lights below dimmed. the walk up had been steep, but when you both reached the top, you understood why people came.
the whole town stretched below you in warm golden lights, the dark water shimmering faintly in the distance. above, the sky was impossibly clear. more stars than you had seen in years.
you sat on the low stone wall near the edge of the overlook, your shoulders touching as you both looked up.
for a while neither of you spoke, the quiet felt peaceful, but different from before. he was the first one to break the silence.
âyou leave soon,â he said softly.
you nodded. âless than a week.â
he stared up at the sky for a moment longer before he let out a quiet breath. âi'm going to miss you.â
the words came out simple. honest. it made your chest tighten. âiâm going to miss you too,â you said.
he glanced over at you then, his expression thoughtful. âyou know what's strange?â
âwhat?â
âwe only meet⊠what, seven days ago?â
"eight,â you said quietly.
he laughed under his breath. âeight days,â he repeated. âand it feels⊠longer.â
âi know.â the truth of it sat heavily between you. down below, somewhere in the town, faint music drifted through the warm night air.
you leaned back slightly on your hands, looking up at the stars again. âdo you ever wish time could just pause?â
he turned his head toward you, quickly averting his gaze from the stars to you, like you were the view he would endlessly choose over the stars. âright now?â
âyeah," you said quietly, fiddling with your thumbs. âso this moment doesnât end.â
for a second he didnât answer. then, his hand reached over, gently taking yours. his fingers laced with yours easily now, like they had done it a hundred times already.
âi think,â he said slowly, âif time stopped now⊠i would be okay with that.â
you smiled softly. âyou wouldnât get bored?â
"not if you were here."
you felt your heartstrings pull at your chest. the quiet stretched again, but this time it felt heavier. after a moment, he shifted closer, resting his shoulder lightly against yours.
âmaybe we meet again someday,â he said.
âmaybe,â you said. but the way you both said it sounded more like a hope than a plan.
the stars above you glittered against the dark sky. and sitting there beside him, fingers intertwined, you realized something that made your chest ache a little.
this summerâthis strange, beautiful, impossible little story you had stumbled intoâwas never meant to last forever. but somehow that made every moment feel even more important.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
that night, neither of you wanted to go back right away.
you stayed at the viewpoint long after the stars had fully taken over the sky, long after the town below had gone quieter and the air had turned cooler. his hand stayed wrapped around yours, warm and steady, and every so often his thumb moved softly across your skin like he was thinking too much to be still.
on the walk back, you barely spoke. not because there was nothing to say. because there was too much.
the silence between you felt fullâof the last few days, of all the things you still hadnât said, of the quiet understanding that time was moving whether we wanted it to or not.
by the time you reached your hotel, your heart was beating too fast. he stopped with you at the door, and for a second, neither of you moved. the light above the entrance cast a soft gold over his face, catching the tiredness in his eyes, and the softness there too.
âyouâre quiet,â he said.
you looked down for a moment, then back at him. âi donât want this week to be over.â
something in his expression shifted. âme too,â he said quietly. that was all it took.
he stepped closer and kissed you, and this time it felt different from every other kiss before itâdeeper, heavier, like all the restraint between you had finally worn thin. your hands found him instinctively, one against his chest, the other sliding up to his jaw, and he held you like heâd been wanting to for hours. maybe days.
the door opened behind you clumsily, and you both half-laughed into the kiss, stumbling inside without really breaking apart.
the room was dim except for the lamp near the bed. the second the door clicked shut, the quiet seemed to close around you.
he looked at you for one breathless second, like he was checking that this was still real, that you still wanted him there. you did.
he saw that immediately, his hand came to your waist again, slow and sure, and the next kiss was gentler somehow, even though the tension behind it burned hotter. he kissed you like he was trying to memorize youâpatient, affectionate, impossible to misunderstand.
âyouâre beautiful,â he murmured against your mouth.
the words made your chest tighten. you laughed softly, a little shaky. âyou always say that.â
âbecause itâs true.â his forehead rested briefly against yours, both of you catching your breath, but neither moved away. the closeness only made everything worseâhis hands, your pulse, the way the whole room seemed charged with something warm and dangerous.
âiâm trying to be good,â he said quietly.
you smiled. âare you?â
he looked at you with that small, unfair smile. ânot really.â
you laughed again, but it disappeared when he kissed you once more, slower now, deeper, drawing you in until you forgot whatever you were about say. your hands slid around him; his brushed along your back, then lingered at your waist, pulling you closer until there wasnât any space left at all.
everything about the moment felt heightenedâthe warmth of the room, the soft rustle of clothes, the lamp light against the wall, the sound of your breathing in the quiet of the night.
there was no hurry in the way he touched you, no carelessness. just a kind of focus that made your whole body feel warm. he was still flirty, still teasing in little moments, but softer too, like the closeness meant something to him now beyond the thrill of it.
at one point, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand brushing lightly along your cheek. âwhat?â you whispered.
he shook his head once, smiling faintly. âi think you made this difficult for me.â
you smiled, even though your heart was threatening to beat right out of your chest. âme?â
âyes, you.â
âhow?â
he leaned in again, voice low by your ear. âyou make me want to stay.â
your breath caught. that nearly undid you more than the kisses had.
when you looked at him again, the teasing had softened. what was left in his face was something quieter, more honest, and somehow that made the moment feel even more intimate than anything else. so, you kissed him first that time. slowly. and whatever small distance that was left between you disappeared for good.
"i don't want to waste a second with you," he murmured into the kiss.
the night blurred after that into warmth and half-finished sentences, into soft laughter and breathless pauses, into the kind of closeness that makes time feel strange. outside, the town kept sleeping, the dark lake somewhere beyond the window, the stars still hanging over everything. but inside the room, it felt like the whole world had narrowed down to only thisâto his hands, his voice, the way he said your name like it meant more than it should have after only a few days.
later, when the room finally went quiet, you lay close to him in the dark, both naked in the sheets as your head rested against him while the curtains moved softly in the night breeze. his fingers moved lazily against your arm, and he let out a quiet breath.
âiâm really going to miss you,â he said.
the words landed differently this time. you lifted your head to look at him, but in the dark, you could only make out the shape of his face, the outline of him against the pillow.
"I'm going to really miss you too," you whispered, swallowing the wrenched feeling in your throat. his hand found yours under the sheets, holding it tightly.
and somewhere in the silence that followed, with the window open and the summer night slipping slowly toward morning, you realized this was the part that would stay with you later.
not just the passion or just the wanting. but the tenderness after. and the way he held you like leaving had already begun to hurt.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
six days later~
you wake up before him in that gray early-morning light where your heart automatically felt heavy. the room is quiet except for the city outside your window and his breathing beside you. and for a few seconds, before reality catches up, you let yourself pretend this is normal. that this is just what mornings with him are. that there will be another one tomorrow.
but then, you remembered.
your flight. the time. and the fact that this is it.
he wakes up slowly, still warm and sleepy, one arm heavy around your waist like he kept you beside him even in his sleep. he looks at you like he already knows what kind of morning this is. no teasing, no easy smile at first.
you try to make it lighter. âdonât look at me like that,â with a little laugh that almost works.
he brushes your hair away from your face and says, very softly, âlike what?â
"like you're making this harder," you whisper.
he smiles a little, but it's heavy with sadness. "it was always going to be hard."
you stay close in bed, talking in low voices like if you keep speaking softly enough, the morning wonât fully arrive. he traces shapes on your arm while you memorize everything; the slope of his shoulder, the sound of his voice, the way he says your name. both pretending you aren't counting down.
then, you ask him the kind of question people only ask when theyâre desperate to keep a piece of someone. âwill you remember me?â
the moment the words left you, you almost wished you could take them back. they sounded so small compared to what you really meant. will this matter to you when iâm gone? will i still exist somewhere in you? will i survive in your life after i leave it?
and he looks almost offended by it, but tenderly. like the question broke his heart a little. âdonât ask that.â
âwhy?â
his jaw tightened just slightly. he looked away for a second, then back at you, and his hand slid from your cheek into your hair, cradling the back of your head. âbecause you know i will.â
it should have settled something in you. but instead, it only made your chest ache harder, because he said it so simply, like it was obvious, like there had never been any possibility that you would not stay with him in some permanent, invisible way.
you started crying, quietly, which was worse than if you had sobbed. he moved closer without a word until your foreheads touched, and you felt him exhale against your lips. his thumb brushed under your eye, catching tears that would only be replaced by more.
âhey,â he murmured, like he was trying to soothe something frightened. little did you know, his heart was breaking into a million pieces at the sight of your tears. âhey.â
you hated that this was happening. you hated that he mattered enough for leaving to feel like being peeled out of your own life. you hated that you had known him for such a short time and somehow, he had made himself essential to you anyway, as if your heart had taken one look at him and made a decision without your permission.
âyou make me feel insane,â you whispered, and that made him laugh once, softly, though you could hear the sadness in it.
âi know.â
you let out a shaky breath. âno, i mean it.â
âi know,â he said again, quieter this time.
you stayed like that, forehead to forehead, not kissing, not speaking, just breathing the same air. you could feel his hand trembling just slightly where it held your face, and that nearly broke you more than anything else.
he was trying so hard to be steady for you. trying so hard to keep the moment gentle.
and then, before you could say anything else, before you could decide whether you were brave enough to ruin this with the truth, he said it.
âi love you.â
he didn't dress it up. he didn't hesitate, either. he just said it like it had been waiting there all along, like it had reached the point where staying hidden hurt more than being spoken.
you stared at him, tears coming to a stop from the shock.
for one suspended second, the whole room seemed to go still around you. the traffic outside, the people below, the morning itselfâit all receded. there was only his face inches from yours, his eyes searching yours as if he had given you the most fragile thing he had and was waiting to see what you would do with it.
apart of you had always known.
not because either of you had said it, not because you had promised anything, but because of the way he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention. because of how gently he had learned you. because of the way silence with him had never felt empty. because loving him had become the easiest and most dangerous thing you had ever done.
still, hearing it then, with the morning already taking shape around you, with no time left, felt almost unbearable.
your mouth trembled before the words came out. âi love you too.â
he closed his eyes just for a second, like you saying it back had struck somewhere deeper than he had prepared for. then, he kissed you.
not urgently. not desperately. just slowly, with one hand still at your face and the other finding your waist beneath the sheets, holding you as though tenderness itself could become a form of staying. you kissed him back with tears still wet on your cheeks, and he kissed you like he didn't mind them, like grief and love belonged together this morning, and there was no point trying to separate them.
when you pulled apart, you tucked your face into his neck because you couldn't bear the look in his eyes again so soon. his arms came around you immediately, drawing you against his chest until there was no space left between you.
you stayed like that for a long time.
maybe minutes. maybe an hour. time had become strange with him. too fast when you wanted more of it, too slow when you were afraid of what came next.
his hand moved up and down your back in a slow rhythm, and you listened to his heartbeat beneath your ear, steady and alive and unfairly calm. you wondered how many mornings from now you would wake and reach for the memory of this one like a bruise. you wondered if loving someone briefly, always felt this permanent.
outside, the city kept waking up. inside, you held each other tighter.
you wanted to tell him not to let you go. you wanted to say you would miss him in ways that would embarrass you if put into words. you wanted to ask him what was going to happen to all this love once there was nowhere for it to go.
instead, you lifted your head and looked at him.
his lashes were still dark with sleep. his hair was a mess. there was a faint mark near his collarbone from where you had kissed him the night before, and seeing it there made something sharp and helpless twist through you. proof. evidence. something to suggest that this had really happened, that he had really been yours for a little while.
you touched it lightly with your fingertips.
he gave you a sad smile. âwhat?â
you shook your head. âjust looking at you.â
his smile deepened, but only barely. âyou been doing that a lot.â
âi know.â
âand?â
you tried to answer, but your throat tightened too quickly. he seemed to understand anyway. he always did.
he leaned in and kissed your forehead, then the corner of your eye, then the edge of your mouth; each kiss quiet and deliberate, as if he were trying to leave something behind on your skin that wouldn't fade once you were gone.
you thought, then, that maybe this was what real heartbreak was. not shouting, not drama, not collapse. just this. a soft room. a pale morning. the person you love holding you as if they would keep you if they could, and both of you knowing they cannot.
eventually, you would have to get out of bed. you would have to pack the last of your things and look at him one last time. eventually, one of you would have to leave first.
but not yet. so you curled in closer, and he pulled the blanket higher around you, and you laid there in the fading quiet of your last morning together, saying nothing at all.
because he had already said it. because you had said it back. because sometimes love didn't save you. sometimes it only made losing each other more beautiful.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
by the time you got to the station, you already hated it.
you hated the crowds. you hated the sound of rolling suitcases over the concrete. you hated the bright board overhead with its neat rows of departures, as if leaving could ever be that simpleâjust a time, a platform, a destination. you hated the way people moved around you two with coffees in their hands and places to be, like this was an ordinary morning and not the end of something that had changed you down to the bone.
most of all, you hated that he was the one carrying your bags.
they weren't even that heavy, you could have carried it yourself. but he had taken them from you the second you both stepped out of the cab, slinging them over his shoulder without asking, and you had let him because there was something unbearable in watching him do ordinary things for you one last time.
you walked side by side through the station, not touching at first. not because you didn't want to; but because touching made it too real.
the huge glass ceiling let in a pale, washed-out morning light, the kind that made everything look too exposed. people hurried past you in bursts of movement and sound, their voices overlapping with the far announcement of arrivals and departures in a language you had only just begun to grow fond of. somewhere nearby, a child laughed. somewhere else, someone was crying. the whole station was full of motion, of reunion and departure and impatience, and somehow that made your silence feel even heavier.
you kept glancing at him. he looked unfairly composed.
dark jacket. sleep-rumpled hair he had not fully fixed for once. one hand wrapped around the strap of your bags, the other tucked into his pocket. his jaw was set in that quiet way it got when he was feeling more than he wanted anyone to see. if you had not known him by thenâif you had not spent weeks learning the smallest shifts in his face, the meanings behind his silencesâyou might have believed he was calm.
but you knew him. you knew the stillness in him was effort. you knew he was holding himself together with both hands.
once you reached the platform that your ticket read, you both came to a devastating stop. neither of you moved before he glanced at you.
"you okay?" he asked too quietly.
the question was ridiculous. it almost made you laugh. instead, you looked away toward the tracks, blinking too quickly. âno.â
your voice came out smaller than you meant it to. honest in the worst possible way. he was quiet for a second.
then, you felt his hand at the back of your arm, warm and steady, guiding you gently out of the main rush of people and closer to one of the pillars near the platform entrance, where the crowd thinned just enough to let you have the illusion of privacy.
the train was already there. that was the cruel part. it had arrived before you were ready, all silver and blue and humming softly against the platform, as if it had been waiting patiently to take you away from him. you stared at it with immediate resentment.
âdonât look at it like that,â he murmured.
you turned to him. âlike what?â
âlike you want to fight it.â
despite everything, you let out a small laugh. âi do.â
that made the corner of his mouth lift.
god, you loved him.
you loved him in that moment with such useless force it made your chest feel thin, like your ribs could no longer hold everything inside you properly. you loved the tired softness in his eyes. you loved the way he was trying to make this easier for you even though you could tell it was wrecking him too. you loved that he was standing there pretending to be steadier than he felt because he thought you needed him to be.
but you wished he would stop. you wished he would break with you. yours eyes dropped to your bags still hanging from his shoulder.
âyou donât have to carry that anymore,â you said quietly.
he looked at you for a moment before sliding the straps off and setting the bags beside your feet. neither of you reached for them after that. they sat between you two like another thing waiting to leave.
an announcement crackled overhead, something about boarding, something about time, something you refused to fully listen to. around you two, people began to move with more urgency toward the train doors, the station shifting into that particular rhythm that meant goodbye was no longer theoretical. it was happening. it was here.
you could feel yourself starting to lose the fight against tears again, heavy wads of water pooling at your waterline.
you pressed your lips together and looked down, but that only made it worse, because then all you could see were both of your shoes pointed toward each other on the concrete, close but not touching. ridiculously normal. like any other couple about to say goodbye after a weekend away. like there was any world in which this was casual.
his fingers tipped your chin up. âhey.â that one word nearly shattered you. your eyes met his.
he looked tired now. not sleepyâwrecked. like this morning had finally reached him too. there was something helpless in the way he was looking at you, and you realized then that he did not know how to do this either. he was just better at hiding it.
âi donât know how to leave you,â you whispered. his hand stayed on your face. for a second, he said nothing. his thumb moved once over your cheekbone, and you could feel how carefully he was trying to breathe.
âi know,â he said at last. that was all. not itâll be okay. not donât say that. just the truth.
you let out a shaking breath that turned into a laugh and then almost into a sob. âthatâs all you have to say?â
a sad smile touched his mouth. âno.â
âthen what?â
his gaze dropped briefly to your lips before lifting back to your eyes. around you, the station kept moving. more footsteps. another announcement. a whistle from somewhere farther down the platform. but inside that small space between you two, everything had gone painfully still. then he said, very quietly, âcome here.â
you stepped into him like there had never been another place for you to go, and his arms came around you instantly, hard enough to make your breath catch. it wasn't gentle this time, it was tight.
he held you like someone trying not to lose something already slipping away, one hand spread wide over your back, the other cradling the back of your head, pressing you close into his chest.
you buried your face in his jacket and inhaled. he smelled like cold air, soap, and the cologne you had gotten used to finding on your sheets, your sweaters, on your skin hours after he was gone. familiar already. dangerous already. you wrapped your arms around him and held on as tightly as you could, like there was still some bargain left to make with the universe if you just refused to loosen your grip.
he kissed your hair. then your temple. then he pressed his mouth against the side of your head and just stayed there. you could feel his heartbeat, fast and heavy beneath your cheek. so he was not calm. this was ruining him too.
when you finally pulled back enough to look at him, his hands stayed on your waist, like even that small amount of distance was unacceptable. your face was wet. you didn't know when you had started crying again.
he looked at you with that raw, unguarded expression you had only ever seen in private, and something in him seemed to give way.
âlisten to me,â he said.
you nodded because you couldn't do anything else. his jaw tightened, and for one terrible second, you thought he might stop there, might decide whatever he wanted to say was too much, too late, too dangerous. but he didn't.
âthis doesnât get to become something small just because it ended fast.â
you stared at him. he swallowed once, hard.
âyou donât get to leave here and act like this was some... pretty little thing that happened to you in another country.â his voice had gone lower, rougher now, emotion breaking through despite himself. âyou donât get to pretend i didnâtââ he stopped, exhaled sharply, then tried again. âyou matter to me.â
the tears came harder after that. not because you doubted it.
because hearing him say it so plainly made it real in a way you couldn't protect yourself from. because some part of you had still been afraid that once you stepped onto the train, all of this would begin to dissolve immediately, turning into memory too fast, into something dreamlike and impossible to prove.
but thisâhis face, his voice, the way his hands trembled slightly at your waistâwas proof. you let out a shaky breath. âyou matter to me too.â
his eyes searched yours, almost angry with feeling. âtoo?â
you laughed through tears, and he huffed a breath that might have been a laugh too, despite everything. âi love you,â you said.
you didn't plan on saying it again. maybe you should have saved it. maybe you should have let the morning keep it. but standing there with the train waiting with his hands on you and no future you could point to with certainty, the words rose up all on their own.
his whole face changedâ enough for you to see how deeply it landed. he leaned down and kissed you. right there on the platform, with people passing and announcements overhead and the train waiting to take you away from him.
it wasn't a polite goodbye kiss.
it was slow at first, heartbreakingly slow, his hand sliding from your waist to the side of your neck, his thumb under your jaw like he needed to feel that you were real for one second longer. then, you kissed him back with all the grief you had, all the love, all the helplessness, and something in the kiss deepenedâstill tender, still careful, but fuller now, almost desperate beneath the softness. like neither of you knew how to stop once you had started.
when you broke apart, your foreheads touched for half a second. he exhaled against your mouth. âi love you too,â he said.
the words went through you like light through glass. beautiful but sharp, ruining. another boarding announcement sounded. louder this time. final.
you closed your eyes. âno,â you whispered.
he let out the saddest little laugh you had ever heard. âi know.â
he stepped back first, but only barely, his hands sliding slowly from your waist like even that small release cost him something. then he reached down, picked up your bags, and handed it to you.
that nearly hurt more than the kiss. you took them from him with both hands. your fingers brushed his.
"write to me,â you said, even though you knew letters were too slow for feelings like this. even though you knew wanting things didn't make them possible.
âi will.â
âpromise?â
his expression tightened. then he nodded once. âyeah. i promise.â
the conductor called for final boarding. this was it.
there should have been some final perfect thing to say. something literary and aching and worthy of the kind of love that had grown too fast and too real between you. but all you could think, looking at him one last time on that crowded platform, was how badly you did not want a world that did not have him standing in front of you.
so, what you said was, âi donât want to go.â
his eyes flickered shut for the briefest second. when they opened again, they were shining, water threatening to drop from his lash line.
âi know,â he said. then, softerââbut go.â his voice almost cracked.
and that was what broke you. not because it was cold, but because it was love. because he wouldn't ask you to stay if staying would ruin your life. because he loved you enough to let the train take you home.
you kissed him once more, quickly this time because you knew if you made it longer, you would never leave. then you turned before your body could change its mind. he let go of you, the familiar warmth of his body escaping yours for the last time.
you got on the train without looking back at first. because you simply couldn't bear to.
you made it through the door, down the narrow aisle, to the window seat with shaking hands and a pulse so loud you could barely hear anything else. your bags slipped from your shoulder onto the floor. you sat. breathed once. twice. then, you looked up.
he was still there. exactly where you had left him. one hand in his coat pocket, the other hanging by his side. not moving. not pretending to move on yet. just looking up at your window like he could still see you clearly through the glass.
you put your hand up before you could stop yourself. his mouth tightened in that almost-smile you knew so well, the one that always looked like he was feeling too much to fully make it happen. then, he lifted his hand too.
the train jerked beneath you. slowly, painfully, it began to move.
he stayed where he was as the platform started to slide away as the distance opened like a wound between you. you watched him get smaller through the glass, watched the shape of him blur, not because he was too far now, but because your eyes were too full of tears to hold him properly.
still, you kept looking. even after he became only a dark figure among others. even after the platform gave way to tracks and iron beams and the station began to disappear.
you kept looking long after there was nothing left to see.
because some selfish, foolish part of you believed that if you stared hard enough, you could keep him. but the train carried you forward anyway.
and all you could do was sit there with your hand still half-raised, your mouth trembling, and the taste of him still on your lips, thinking the most devastating thought of your life:
you had found him.
and now you were leaving him behind.
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:*
an: oh my god this was terribly painful to write. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did- I've been craving nothing more than to write something incredibly angsty.
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synopsis: your relationship with bf!lucas and gf!max grows stronger over the summer, but by the start of senior year, your commitment to each other is challenged by a family death, social status differences, and a dreading fear of acceptance.
content warning(s): brief use of y/n, aged-up characters (aka they're 18+ seniors), mixed/non-chronological timeline plots, suggestive themes(?), slight intimate making out, brief mention of alcohol, emotional tension, angst!!!!, mild 80s homophobia & established polyamory relationship
you can find part one here!
Your bedroom door clicks shut a little too loudly.
That's the first mistake.
The second is Lucasâs mouth on your neck from behind, warm and distracting, while Maxâs hands are already fisted in the hem of your shirt as she kisses you like sheâs trying to make up for lost time.
The three of you are half-laughing, half-breathless, glued together in your bedroomâlips touching, tongues licking, hands everywhere, and the faint smell of Maxâs shampoo and Lucasâs cologne mixing into something dizzying.
"Okay," Max murmurs against your mouth, grinning. "We are definitely pushing our luck."
"Mm,â Lucas hums into your neck.
âSo worth it," he adds, low and smug, just before leaning in to plant his lips at the base of your ear again. One hand slides underneath your skirt, and the other reaches for Max's nipple, fingers flicking and squeezing her sensitive area with just the right amount of pressure, earning him a soft groan.
The sound she makes into your mouth doesn't give you the chance to react beforeâ
"Y/N!" Steve calls from downstairs.
Your heart drops to your ass, blood running cold.
"Fuck!" you whisper, eyes widening with panic. The three of you scramble in silent horror.
"Hide," you hiss, already shoving at Lucas' chest.
"Whatâwhere?" he whispers back, panic flashing across his face. "You realize if we get caught, I'll be the first one he kills, right?"
You ignore him, grabbing his wrist and drag him across the room.
"What happened to Mr. So Worth It'?" Max teases lowly, an amused grin spreading across her flushed face.
You yank open your closet door so hurriedly it rattles, clothes sway on their hangers, and sneakers scattered on the floor.
"Inâdon't breathe."
"I'm literally always breathing," he mutters, but squeezes in anyway, ducking just as you slam the door shut on him.
"Y/N?" Steve calls again, voice carrying up the stairs, closer now. "Why does it sound like you're rearranging the whole damn house?"
Meanwhile, Max doesn't even wait for instructions. She kicks off her shoes, dives into your bed, and yanks you down with her just as the door swings open.
Steve leans against the doorframe, keys still in his hand. He squints immediately.
Your heart is pounding so hard youâre pretty sure he can hear it.
"Hey," he says slowly. "...Max. Didn't know you were here."
Max offers him an insouciant smile. "Surprise."
She's charmingly unbothered, relaxedâher effortless cool is so typical, Steve doesn't really pay her any attention.
You, on the other hand, force a tight, innocent smile, trying to look casual as you prop yourself up on one elbow. "Hey, Steve."
Suspicion sharpens his expression for a second.
"I'm gonna go grab takeout," he says, eyes flicking between the two of you. "You guys want anything?"
Max shakes her head. "I'm good, thanks."
"Yeah," you add, way too fast. "I'm good too."
Steve frowns. "Weird. You never turn down takeout."
You swallow. "Justânot that hungry."
You smile. It feels like your face might crack.
Your brother stares at you for a long beat, and you're afraid if he doesn't quit it, the uneasiness of guilt settling in your stomach will overpower you.
He squints at you.
Then his gaze drifts to your hairâmessy, tangled, very obviously not the result of nothing.
"What's up with your hair?" he asks. "Was there a pillow fight in here?"
He snorts. âThen, what ever happened to personal grooming?"
Your cheeks burn instantly. "Steve!" you protest, mortified.
He just laughs, already turning away. "I'm gonna be like ten minutes. Don't do anything you're not supposed to. Like closing the door if Sinclair comes over. You know to leave the door openâ"
"Eight inches," you both grumble in unison.
The door closes behind him.
You donât breathe until you hear his footsteps heading back downstairs.
Then Max bursts into quiet laughter, burying her face in your shoulder.
"Oh my god," she wheezes. "You almost blew it."
You drop back onto the bed, groaning. "I thought I was going to die."
Youâre still catching your breath when the closet door creaks open.
Lucas leans out, eyes bright, grin slow and unapologetic. "For the record," he murmurs, glancing at your tangled hair, "I think it looks exactly like what happens when someoneâs having a very good time."
Max lets out a small laugh.
You groan, covering your face with a pillow. "Youâre awful."
"True," he says easily, stepping out and closing the closet door behind him. "But Iâll happily volunteer to mess it up again."
Max reaches out to Lucas and stands up with his help. "You are not helping."
Lucas smirks anywayâclearly pleased with himself, and grabs her by the waist.
You glare at him, but youâre smiling despite yourself. âYouâre lucky I didnât suffocate you in there.â
âYour brotherâs got great instincts. Terrible timing. But great instincts.â
âShut up and come here.â Max hooks a hand behind his neck and pulls Lucas closer, kissing him with a breathless urgency, as though theyâre already out of time.
You move in on instinct, drawn by the tension between them. You stand behind Lucas, your hand sliding down his toned arm, the other tightening on Max's sleeve that she has wrapped around his waist.
You plant small, intentional kisses down his neck, making sure he enjoys every single one of them.
Still kissing Max, he tilts his head, giving you silent permission to trail more kisses down his collarbone.
You stop, and slide your hand underneath his jaw to face him to you. Breaking his kiss with Max, your lips move to his next.
"Okayâswitch. My turn.â Max tells him, watching you kiss Lucas hungrily, like you can't seem to get enough of him. She loved receiving attention from you both at the same time. Who didn't? But it was always her favorite.
Lucas breaks your kiss with a frown. "You were in the middle last time. Don't be greedy, MadMax."
She rolls her eyes.
"Fine," she agrees. "But donât skip my turn," she says, her lips moving to nip at his ear now.
You laugh quietly between them, heart still racing, the three of you pressed together againâjust a little more careful this time.
It hits Max in August.
Not all at once. But slowly, just the little things. Small, stupid things.
Like the way you laughâfreely, unrestrained, like you've finally found a safe space.
Like how Lucas' hand automatically finds hers when the three of you are walking downhill.
Like how you push your hair behind your ear whenever Max looks at you too long.
Little things. Beautiful things. Dangerous things.
She hates that she thinks that way, but it's true. Because nothing about what the three of you share feels small anymore. Not after the kiss on the rooftop. Not after the secret moments you've shared hiding in your bedroom all summer. Not after laying in the summer meadow under the fireworks, feeling like maybeâmaybeâshe finally has a place she belongs.
That's the moment the fear starts clouding her mind.
You and Lucas show up to her trailer unannounced one summer morning.
You figure she could use a little cheering up, considering all that's happened in the last two weeks.
She opens the door to see you holding milkshakes, and Lucas holding up a mixtape. You both smile at her like she's the best part of your day. Because she is. When you're togetherâit is.
But something inside her breaks.
Because no one's ever looked at her the way either of you do, treated her the way both of you doâcared about her this way.
Like she's something great.
"I brought you your favorite," you say, holding out an extra milkshake. You seem so happy to just be there, eyes sparkling with excitement, smile blindingly bright, and wide, and gorgeous.
âStraw~berry,â Lucas sing-songs beside you at the doorway.
He waits for Max's reaction, anticipation in his expression. But she's distracted next by how effortlessly handsome he is with that stupid, charming grin on his face that she, oh, so loves.
Her heart swells at the sight of the both of you. She almost forgets about all the bad things.
Almost.
She takes the strawberry milkshake, and smiles, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Lucas catches it, head tilting slightly, but he doesn't say anything.
"How about we take this back to your place?" Max suggests, looking to you with hopeful eyes.
âI'd invite you in," she closes the door behind her, quickâalmost too quick. "But my room's a mess."
You're already walking down the stairs, oblivious to Max's current state of mind. She doesn't like talking about what happened. Lucas knows that. And it's why you never push her to.
But Lucas is more attentive than you are, and sometimes instinctive concern overpowers his resistance.
"You okay, Max?" he asks, voice gentle.
She startles, looking to him. "Yeah," she says dismissively.
He stays at the entrance, searching her face for a sign of dishonesty; a small twitch of the lips. The tightening of her jaw. Anything for him to catch.
But he doesn't.
Billy's belongings are still put away in some cardboard box, locked away in a storage closet. Max's mom now sleeps on the couch sometimesâand the house smells faintly of stale beer, grief, and abandonment.
But Max doesn't tell you, and she doesn't tell Lucas.
Because she can't. Because you'd both worry, you'd ask things, and you'd care.
And caring meant letting someone see her when she's not brave.
A couple days later, the meadow hums with cicadas and bad reception.
Lucas is crouched near the edge of the clearing, radio antenna tilted at a hopeful angle like that might magically convince the signal to cooperate. The static crackles anywayâloud and obnoxious.
A couple feet behind him, you and Max sit in the grass shoulder to shoulder, your knees brushing. For a moment, everything feels impossibly stillâimpossibly perfect. Like a world where Max's problems don't exist.
You brush a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes glancing over her pink lips.
"How bad would it be if I let instinct win, right now?" You ask softly.
Heat creeps up her face under your gaze, her eyes going past your shoulder to glimpse at your group of friends. "Not unless you want to blow our cover."
You roll your eyes and stand, dusting yourself off. "Please. Those guys couldn't put two and two together if we put it in their faces."
Max shakes her head, disagreeing. "This is Dustin Henderson youâre underestimating, Harrington."
You straighten, eyes scanning the edge of the meadow. "Y'know what," you say loudly, already backing away. "I'm gonna go pick some flowers."
Max arches an eyebrow. "Flowers."
"Yeah,â you reply, saccharine and sharp both at once. "Because someone will appreciate them."
Your emphasis on Lucas is impossible to miss, eyes briefly glancing in his direction.
She scoffs. "Since when are you such a romantic?"
"Since my girlfriend,â you say the word gentler than the rest of the sentence, âdecided she doesn't want to kiss me." You throw her the middle finger as you walk backward now, grass brushing your calves.
"Harrington, come onâ"
You catch her gaze and mouth, you owe me, punctuating it with a smile, and subtle wink.
Max breaks immediately, laughing under her breath, shaking her head as she rolls her eyes.
âUnbelievable,â she muttersâbut sheâs smiling.
By the time you turn and disappear toward the wildflowers at the edge of the clearing, the boys are still arguing about signal range and elevation.
âOkay,â Dustin says, squinting at Lucasâs back like heâs solving a riddle. âIâm just gonna say it, because someone here clearly wonât.â
Lucas groans without turning around. âIf this is about your theory on antenna physics again, I swearââ
âItâs not about the radio,â Dustin says. âItâs about you.â
Mike perks up instantly.
Lucas straightens, already suspicious. âWhy is it never about you?â
âBecause,â Dustin says smugly, âIâm not the one giving off deeply confusing romantic energy.â
From a distance, Maxâs head tilts a fraction, catching their conversation.
Lucas sighs. âCan we not do this right now?â
âIâm having a little trouble deciphering whether youâre into little Harrington,â Dustin continues, âor Max.â
Lucas finally turns. âWho cares?â
Mike blinks. âWow. Cold.â
"You're always hanging out with the both of them," Dustin says. "Alone."
"So?"
âAll Iâm saying,â Dustin presses on, undeterred, âis they both seem to like you.â
Thereâs a beat, and static crackles.
âYeah, well,â Lucas says, jaw tightening, âit doesnât matter.â
Mike grins. âLucas Sinclair. Heartbreaker.â
Lucas shoots him a look. âYou gonna help me find signal, or are you just going to narrate my love life?â
âIâm just asking,â Dustin says, sing-songy, âyou gonna ask one of them out? Before senior year turns you into a mysterious jock with commitment issues?â
âWill you guys shut up?â Lucas snaps. âAnd try to help me? I seem to be the only one actually focused.â
Maxâs stomach does a flip.
She didnât mean to listen. Hadnât meant to catch any of it. But now the thoughts are there, lodged somewhere uncomfortable and sharp.
People are noticing.
She risks a glance at you. Youâre still smiling faintly, picking flowers unknowingly, like none of this has touched you. Like your world isnât about to tilt.
Max looks back at the boysâat Dustinâs grin, Mikeâs knowing look, the way Lucasâs shoulders are tense even as he pretends not to care.
And suddenly she can see it.
Hallways. Lockers. Whispers that start with did you hear and end with thatâs weird.
She shifts slightly, pulling her knee in toward herself.
You notice immediately, reaching her side again.
Your voice is soft, âYou okay?â
âYeah,â Max says quickly. âJustâhot out here.â
You nod, accepting it easily.
That somehow makes it worse. Your obliviousness, your innocence. The gentle, reassuring smile you throw her way makes it feel like she can't breathe. Like she's guilty of something she hasn't even done yet.
âMaybe we can cool off with your favorite,â you suggest with a small smile. Ice cream. âAfter Lucas finishes basketball practice with Steve. You know how they are.â
Across the meadow, Lucas finally gets a faint blip of signal. He smiles despite himself, victory small but real.
Max doesnât smile back. Nor does she plan to join you and Lucas on any evening dates of basketball practices and ice cream.
Because now all she can think is: If theyâre already talking about it out hereâwhat happens when school starts?
The waves of anxiety don't end there.
When Max gets home, it's like she's stepping into an alternate universe. When she's with you and Lucas, she smiles brighter and laughs louder.
She's distracted, and actually happy. Because when she's with youâshe's in a picture perfect world. Being with you and Lucas, then coming home hits her like whiplash.
Spending time with the both of you is like consuming a drugâlike riding an addicting high of adrenaline and serotonin that comes to an end as soon as she walks through the front door of her trailer home.
Because when she steps through the front door of her trailer home, her mom's passed out on the sofa, surrounded by empty cans.
She doesn't say anything, just cleans up, thinking: I canât drag them into this. Iâll poison it. Iâll poison them.
She decides then, and it happens quietly. The way people pack away summer clothes when they know the cold is coming.
It really starts happening in pieces.
One piece when Billy died; one when her stepdad left, another when her mom stopped getting out of bed until noon. And anotherâthe one that hurts deeplyâwhen she remembers the rooftop kiss.
Not because she regrets it. God, no. Never that.
Itâs because she finally has something good. Something soft. Something real.
Lucasâs hands warm around hers. Your breath against her cheek. All three of you whispering secrets into your bedroom walls like they belonged only to you. She has something beautifulâonly now she doesn't think she deserves beautiful things.
Not anymore. Not after everything she's lost.
Not when sheâs becoming someone she doesnât even recognize.
She tells herself distance will protect you both.
Protect you, the girl she thinks about constantly; who's shown her nothing but a gentle love. Protect Lucas, who she cares about so deeply; who looks at her with that unbearable, hopeful expression she canât lie to anymore. Protect both of you from the ugly parts of her life she canât untangle.
She starts talking less, laughing almost never. Max closes the door before anyone else canâbecause losing you slowly might hurt less than losing you suddenly.
You don't question her quietness over the days, but it's become more evident, and Lucas is the first to speak about it.
He talks about respecting her space, which you both do, of course.
You still see her. Only now it's when she wants toâturning you away when you knock at her door, rejecting your invite to arcade dates, or comic and movie nights. She hasn't come out to skate with you either, not for a couple days anyway.
Sometimes she says she's helping her mom around the house, which you and Lucas can understand.
Now that the school year's started, she often says she's too busy with homework. But after a couple of times, you don't seem to believe it anymore.
It's not just your dates with Lucas. She doesn't join the partyâyour friendsâat Mike's house anymore either.
There is one day in particular where, it's almost like, she decides to just pull awayâcompletely.
It happens on a Wednesday.
You're attending school as a senior now, and a month has passed since the start of the school year. In the last three weeks, you've felt a major shift.
Not sudden, but slowly, the way someone falls asleep.
Heat still hangs in the hallways, lockers rattling as juniors and seniors shove past each other.
You spot Max instantly.
Sheâs at her locker, headphones around her neck, red hair falling over her shoulders, just like when you met her for the first time. Only now she looks small. Tired. Like she didnât sleep. Like she hasnât slept in days.
You brighten, despite yourself.
âMax!â you call, weaving through a cluster of upper-classmen. She hears youâyou see her hear youâand her shoulders stiffen, chin lifting just slightly.
For a second she looks almost... relieved to see you.
Youâre just about to lift your hand and waveâwhen she slams her locker shut. Hard.
Then she turns, only not toward you.
Away.
You freeze in your tracks.
She doesnât look back, she keeps walking. Her shoulders tense, and her eyes stay forward.
She reaches the end of the hallway. And you watch her do something she's never done to you before: she walks faster. Like sheâs avoiding you.
Your stomach drops sharply, like missing a stair. You call again, forced brightness cracking, âMax!â
The space between you feels like something breaking, and you stop calling. Only then, does she stop.
Just barely, but it's enough for you to catch up. She turnsânot fully, avoiding your eyes.
Her voice is thin, and tired. âIâ I have go, Harrington. I have a meeting.â
âWhat kind of meeting?" You ask.
Her jaw twitches, and you take a step closer, searching her face for an answer. But it doesnât come. âAre you madâdid I do something?â
Maxâs eyes flickerâsomething woundedâand she looks away sharply. âNo. I justââ She swallows. âCan we⊠just not do this right now?â
Her tone hits harder than any shouted argument could.
Because sheâs not angry. She looks tired. Done.
Before you can say anything else, she adjusts her bag, pulls her headphones up, and walks away. Not rushing. Just quietly leaving you behind in a crowded hallway that suddenly feels way too loud.
Your throat goes tight. And for the first time since the rooftop⊠you feel something cracking.
Lucas catches up to her behind the school that afternoon, breaking Max from her thoughts. Sheâs sitting on the curb near the track field, knees pulled up, staring at nothing.
He hesitates before approachingâbecause he knows all too well that Max hates being corneredâbut instinctive concern wins. âMax?â
She flinches like the sound of his voice hurts, but he steps closer. âHey. Can we talk?â
She shakes her head immediately, defensive. âNot now.â
âMax,â he says, softly. âPlease.â
She tenses at the gentleness in his voice. Like itâs something she doesnât deserve. Like it terrifies her.
Lucas sits beside her anywayânot too close, but close enough she knows heâs there. âYou didnât answer my calls last night.â
âI was busy.â
âNo you werenât.â
She shuts her eyes. Usually, this is where she snaps back with something sarcastic, something to push him away just enough that heâll stop asking questions.
But right now? She just looks tired.
"I saw you walk into the counselor's office today."
âI donât wanna talk right now, Lucas.â
His voice comes out gentleâcautious. âYouâve been pulling away... from both of us.â
Maxâs eyes flickâjust barelyâbut he sees it, a flicker of sadness.
Lucas continues, helpless. âIf somethingâs going on, you can tell me. You can tell us. You donât have to go through it alone.â
Her jaw tightens.
Then her voice goes tight. âI am alone.â
Lucas recoils like she just slapped him. âNo, youâre not.â
âLucasâŠâ She finally meets his eyes, and itâs like looking at a ghost. âYou and Harringtonâyouâre still⊠good. You donât need me messing everything up.â
âWhat?â His voice falters. âWhat are you talking about?â
Maxâs jaw clenches. âItâs better this way.â
âNo, it isnât,â Lucas fires back, raw. âDonât do that. Donât run. You donât need to shut us out.â
She stands abruptly, and walks away from him, but Lucas follows anyway. âMaxââ
âStop!â she snaps, voice rising for the first time, eyes bright with something close to tears. âI canât do this, okay? I canâtâtalk about summer. Orâor pretend everything is fine. I just⊠I canât.â
Lucas stares at her, chest heaving, every word hitting him too hard. âYou donât have to pretend,â he whispers.
She shakes her head, and he steps forwardâslowlyâhis hand reaching for hers.
âPlease,â he begs, voice cracking. âJust⊠talk to me. Tell me whatâs going on.â
But Max pulls her hand back like his touch burns, and turns the other way. âI have to go.â
âMax!ââ
She turns the corner, and doesnât look back.
She walks away, same as she did with you, leaving Lucas alone on the field, breath shaking, holding the empty space where her hand shouldâve been in his.
Later that week, the gym smells like sweat, rubber, and cheap floor polishâfamiliar, grounding, and suffocating all at once.
Lucas dribbles down the court, weaving past players, trying to lose himself in the rhythm. Trying not to think about how Max wonât look at him anymore. Trying not to think about how youâve been quieter lately, like youâre trying so hard to keep it together, acting like everythingâs fine for the sake of him. Trying not to think about how none of it feels like summer anymore.
He makes the pass.
âYo, Sinclair!â
He turns, and Jason grins, more taunting than friendly. âYour girlfriends coming today?â
Lucas forces a breath. âTheyâre notââ
âOh right,â Andy laughs. âOnly one usually shows up now, huh? The redhead mad at you again?â
âShe probably found out about the other one,â Chance adds.
âDudeâs juggling two chicks at once.â
âRedhead and Harringtonâs sister."
"They're like two lesbians fighting over him."
âCareful Sinclair, leave them alone too long and theyâll start macking on each other.â
Laughter erupts. Hard, and echoing.
"Ever get in bed with the weirdo freak lesbos?â
A ball bounces once across the floor behind Lucas, but he doesnât hear it. All he hears is blood rushing in his ears. Because itâs not funny.
Not when they're laughing at the both of you.
Not when Max wonât return his calls. Not when youâve been sitting at lunch, picking at your food instead of talking. Not when Lucas has spent months balancing some impossible line between protecting something beautiful and hiding it from a world that wouldnât understand.
Not when he feels like heâs losing both of you. And especially not when theyâre disrespecting the both of you.
Jason claps him on the back. âCâmon Sinclair, lighten upââ
Lucas grabs his jersey and slams him into the wall before he knows heâs moved.
Every head in the gym snaps toward them. âDonât,â Lucas says through clenched teeth, âtalk about them like that.â
Jasonâs shock flickers into smug amusementâuntil he sees Lucasâs eyes. The rage and impatience that burn in them.
âWhoaâhey nowââ Jason tries to raise his hands defensively.
âShut up.â Lucas shoves him harder. âYou donât know anything about them. You donât know anything about me.â
âSinclair!â Coachâs whistle shrieks through the air. âBack off!â
But Lucas doesnât step away. His jaw is locked, his pulse hammering, knuckles prominent with his tight grip on Jason's jersey.
âLucas!â Coach barks again. âStep off the court until you cool your head!â
Lucas releases Jason like the fabric burned him. The whole gym is staringâsome of the guys and cheerleaders whispering. He wipes his palms against his shorts, breath shaking, and walks away towards the locker rooms.
His hands wonât stop trembling. Not just from anger. But from the ache and fear of it all. Because it hits him like a gut punch; first the fear:
If guys like this ever found out the truthâabout what the three of you really areâthey wouldnât just laugh. Theyâd go out of their way to destroy it.
And then the ache hits:
He doesn't want to lose either of you. But he already feels it happening.
You're on your way to second block, and you're a little confused by all the talk going on in the hallways. People seem to be looking at you a lot more than you're used to.
You walk outside because the world feels too loud today. When you turn the cornerâyou freeze.
Lucas is sitting on the low brick wall outside the school, backpack at his feet, staring at the pavement like itâs the only thing keeping him upright.
He doesnât see you at first. His knee bounces restlessly. One thumb digs hard into the heel of his opposite palm, like heâs trying to ground himself by force.
âLucas?â your voice comes out small.
His head jerks up. And you see it.
Raw, exhausted reliefâlike heâs been drowning quietly and someone finally tossed him a rope. The relief that floods his face destroys you a littleâseeing what looks desperately like heâs been holding himself together.
You sit beside him. Not touching. Not yet, because he looks away, jaw working.
After a quiet moment, he finally speaks.
âCoach chewed me out today."
Lucas sighs. "Jason has probably told everyone Iâm psycho. A lot of people saw what I didââ His voice falters, and he shuts his mouth, seemingly upset with himself.
You wait. Heâs always been able to talk to you when heâs ready.
He speaks again, quieter this time. âThey were talking about you. And Max. About⊠us. Like it was some joke.â
You swallow, feeling your chest tighten. âSo you defended us.â
âThatâs not defending.â He shakes his head, eyes burning. âI snapped. I almostâif Iâd actually hurt him, people would thinkââ He cuts himself off, breath shuddering.
Your heart sinks. You think back to that first night. The first real conversation you had with him and Max in the abandoned lot.
The night he shared his troubles, and his fears.
âI don't wanna prove anyone right. The perception they might have of me..." His head hangs in defeat.
Your hand finds his back, and you rub it soothingly. "Lucas, lookâ"
"Thatâs not the only reason I'm worried, Y/N.â
He turns to you, eyes blown with concern. "If they ever find out about summer⊠about what we are⊠theyâll tear it apart.â He shakes his head, a broken sigh escaping him. âTheyâd tear you apart⊠Max apart. I donât want that for either of you.â
You reach out before he could bury his face in his hands. Just a light touch, fingertips brushing his wrist. Then you hold his hand.
Lucas faltersâin that awful, overwhelmed way someone does when theyâve been trying not to cry. His breath shudders, and he looks at your interlaced fingers like itâs the first solid thing heâs had to hold onto all day.
And then he breaks just a littleâshoulders curling inward, forehead tipping toward you, voice barely there. âI donât want to lose either of you.â
You reach up to his face, thumb stroking once against his skin. âYou're not going to. We'll get through this.â
He lets out a shaky breathâhalf a sob, half a laughâand for the first time since the gym, he finally breathes like he believes it might be true.
The bell rings, and your hand cradles his face now, eyes searching his. "I'll see you in third block, okay?"
He nods at your reassurance, and you pull him in to plant a quick kiss on his lips before heading out to your next class.
The end of second block couldn't get here any faster. You don't know what happened or was said in the morning about you, but you know it was bad enough for your classmates to whisper about it without any consideration for you noticing.
You've received a handful of stares in one class period, and it's making your heart stammer so hard in your chest you think it might explode.
You seriously can't wait for third block. All you want is to see Lucas right now.
Which only brings you back to the thought of Max. You can't help it, you canât help how bad you miss her. You miss being with the both of them. Together.
Your entire life you've felt like an outsider. An outcast. Like you could never fit in... not until you were with them.
The bell rings.
You don't want to take the main hallways to your next class. Your chest still hurts from the ugly stares and whispers of your classmates, and from the ache that came when Lucas whispered 'I donât want to lose either of you.'
So you take the long way around the science wingâquiet hallway, lockers dented with old graffiti, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. A hallway not many students take. Youâre almost around the corner when a voice cuts through the air.
âOh, look. Harrington."
You freeze in your tracks.
You recognize three of the basketball players from the team. They lean against the old lockers in their letterman jackets, smirking, almost amused.
The tallest, blonde one grins.
âHey, arenât you the one Lucas is juggling? The âotherâ girlfriend?â
Your stomach drops, but they keep talking.
âOh no, wait,â another laughs. âIsnât she the backup? Since Mayfield dumped him?â
âOr maybe she stole him,â the third adds. âYou know how nerd girls get when they want attention.â
Your jaw tenses, and you swallow, clutching your books to your chest. Just keep walking, you tell yourself.
But one steps directly into your path.
âTell us, Harrington,â he says with mock curiosity, âwhatâs it like ruining things for Max Mayfield?â
"Bad enough she lost her brother. Then you steal her boyfriend too?"
Your heart drops to your stomach. âThatâsâ I didnâtâ Iâm notââ
âOh, come on,â he coos. âYou think people donât see the way you follow Lucas around like some desperate littleââ
âStop,â you say, barely loud enough.
The second guy cuts in before you can say more. âNo wonder Mayfield wonât talk to him. You probably freaked her out, right?â
You try to keep your hands from shaking, eyes glued to the floor.
âSeriously,â the first one laughs. "Are you trying to steal her too?â
They all laugh.
âYou a lesbian, Harrington?â The other taunts, tone degrading.
Your face flushes, and your eyes sting. You try to blink away any tears that are forming.
âOr is that just part of the deal? What do they call thatâ" He snaps his fingers, pretending to search for the term. ââa threesome?â
The hallway swallows your breath whole. âLeave me alone,â you manage, but it wobbles and they hear it.
They laugh harder, encircling you.
But you donât hold back, you shove past themâturning the corner too fast, blinking too fast, desperate to leave that hallwayâand thatâs when you see her.
Max.
Standing right around the corner. Skateboard tucked under her arm, frozen, staring.
She heard all of it. Every word.
Your chest caves, and Maxâs face goes paleâthen redâthen you see something worse: guilt. Like sheâs the one being punched.
She drops her gaze instantly.
You don't have anything to say. Barely able to even breathe.
She turns just as fast, walking the other way without a word. You feel something crack open inside you, and a tiny, awful sound escapes your throat.
And from somewhere down the hall, the guysâ laughter fades as they walk away. You run around back until you're finally alone.
You slide down the locker until youâre sitting on the floor, hugging your knees, breath stuttering, tears falling before you even realize youâre crying.
Youâre alone. And for the first time in months, you feel it. You really feel it. Maybe this world really wonât let the three of you exist.
In third block, Lucas instantly notices your empty seat.
He tells himself that maybe you stopped at the nurseâs station. Or that something trivial came up. Or maybe youâre running late. But he can't convince himself of that because you're never late.
Something cold crawls up his spine, and he excuses himself from class. He checks the bathroom hallway. The back stairwell. Your locker.
Nothing.
Then he hears it.
Not loud. Not obvious. Just⊠quiet, uneven breathing, echoing from behind the old science wing. He turns the cornerâand stops.
Youâre sitting on the ground, knees hugged to your chest, back against the wall with your face buried in your sleeves.
Your shoulders shake, and something inside Lucas breaks so fast it hurts. âHey,â he breathes, stepping forward.
âHeyâhey, baby, whatâs wrong?â He crouches in front of you, trying to get a look at your hidden face.
You look up, and your eyes are red. Your breathing is uneven, and your mouth trembles when you try to speak. Lucasâs heart breaks cleanly in half.
âWhat happened?â he whispers, dropping to sit beside you. âIs it Max? Did she say something to you?"
You shake your head, tears now blurring your vision at the memory of Max witnessing your humiliation and running off afterward, only making the shame burn more.
"Didâdid someone hurt you?â
You shake your head again, too fast this time. Like youâre trying to convince him. Like you're trying to convince yourself of a lie.
âLucas, Iâ I justâ I donât wanna talk about it," You manage between hiccups.
âThatâs okay,â he says softly, âyou donât have to talk. Just let me be hereââ His hand lifts on instinct, gentle and familiar. The way heâs always comforted you. But when his palm brushes your cheek to wipe away a tear, you flinch and turn away.
Lucas freezes, startled and confused.
His hand hangs in the air like he touched a live wire, and everything goes quiet.
Too quiet.
âY/N?â he whispers.
You breathe in too sharply, like the air hurts. âI canâtââ your voice finally breaks. âLucas, please. Just leave me alone. Please.â
His stomach drops as you angle your body away from his, curling in on yourself.
This is it.
This is his nightmare. Happening in real time. Right in front of him.
He might already be losing you.
âHeyâhey, look at meââ he tries again, voice shaking now. "Did I do something wrong? Did Iâ?â
âYou didnât,â you interrupt, turning to meet his eyesâand your expression destroys him. âItâs me. Iâm justâIâm tired.â
âTired of⊠me?â His voice cracks on the last word.
Your breath catches, and it pains you that the thought even crosses his mind. You cry harder at that.
That he could possibly think he was the problem.
âNo, Lucas. God. Never of you.â
He tries again, and reaches for your hand this timeâbut you pull it into your lap. Protective. Closed-off. Not because you donât love himâbut because youâre hurt, and more than thatâterrified.
âI justâŠ" you whisper. "I canât do any of this right now. I can't be what you need.â
Lucas looks like you just punched the air out of him.
He sits back slightly, blinking rapidly, like heâs trying not to drown in what heâs hearing. âWhat are you talking about? You are exactly what I need.â
His voice grows desperate. âYou always have been. You and Maxâ both of youâIâm not me without youââ
âLucasââ
âThereâs something youâre not telling me.â His voice tightens, eyes searching your expression.
He knows you too well.
âDid someone say something to you?â
Your silence is the answer.
And thatâs when the fear goes from cold to wildfire.
âPlease donât do this,â Lucas begs. âPlease donât shut me out too. Iâm already losing Max, and IâI canâtâI canât lose you too.â
Your eyes fill again, and you break. âIâm trying, Lucas!"
âIâm trying so hard. But everythingâs falling apart and Max wonât talk to me and people are saying things and IâI donât know how to fix any of it!"
Lucasâ expression softens, at firstâthen cracks when it hits him.
Because you don't raise your voice. Not at him. Not at anyone.
And if you are nowâit means you've been drowning in this, and he didn't see it.
âWhy didnât you come find me?â he asks, voice barely there.
âBecause youâre hurting too,â you say, tears spilling over. âAnd I canât be the reason you hurt more.â
Lucas is quiet for a second. Then softly, and firmly disagrees. âYouâre not."
You shake your head, gaze fixed somewhere past him. You know itâs not that simple. What the three of you haveâitâs heavier than you thought it would be. And right now, it feels like even being seen together could break something else.
So you donât look at him. Because if you doâif you see his face, look into his eyes, hear his voice the way it always softens for youâyou might give in.
"Just talk to me. Tell me whatâs going on in that pretty head of yours.â
It almost works.
It almost pulls you back.
But the fear is louder.
âYou have me. Weâll get through this together.â
You still don't look at him, because you canâtânot when his eyes are pleading you. Not when he looks at you like that. Like he still believes this is fixable. Like you're not already halfway gone.
Lucas searches your face anyway, like heâs trying to find somethingâanythingâto hold onto.
And then it hits him.
Not all at once. Not loud.
Just a quiet, sinking realization. That you really are slipping away; because your silence tells him everything. And thereâs nothing he can do to stop it.
âYou donât believe me anymoreâŠ" His voice breaks, "do you?â
You stay quiet.
And that's enough.
Lucas lets out a shaky breath, dropping his head into his hands as he sits there beside you.
And for the first time since you met him in sixth grade, Lucas Sinclair looks truly, completely defeated.
Because for the first time since the summer on the rooftop⊠youâre not reaching for him.
Youâre pulling away.
Lucasâs meltdown at practice is still replaying in Steveâs mind when he goes looking for you.
Heâd been in the gym stands when it unfoldedâwatching Lucas, as not only his friend, but trainer who helped him practice for the tryouts that school year. He felt an obligation to keeping an eye on his progress.
Steve was worried. And when your older brother gets worried, he acts.
He rounds the corner of the building and freezes when he hears voices. Sharp, strainedânot loud enough to be a fight, but heated enough to make him stop.
Then he hears your voice.
âMaxâplease, justâwait.â
Youâre standing near the chain-link fence, wind tugging your hair. Max stands before you, skateboard tucked under her arm, shoulders hunched.
âI said leave it alone, Harrington,â Max snaps, staring at the pavement, not at you.
âWe canât keep ignoring each other,â you plead. âYouâve been avoiding meââ
âIâm not avoiding you.â
âYou wonât even look at me,â you say softly. âNot the same. Not since the summer. Not sinceââ
Maxâs jaw clenches hard, and Steveâs eyebrows pinch together.
The summer? He freezes mid-stride, and his heart stops.
He thinks back to what the guys on the court were saying.
Then his blood runs cold. And suddenlyâthe walk-in.
Lucas kissing Max. Then kissing you. Max brushing hair from your face. The way your hands stayed linked... longer than friends ever would. Only he didn't realize it then. Lucas acting like he was caught committing a felonyâit all snaps together like magnets.
And thenâyou reach for her hand.
Not as friends. Not as âgirls being girls.â Not as anything Steve understands instantly.
Itâs tender, and rawâlike a plea.
Maxâs hand jerks back like she just touched fire.
âStop!â Her voice cracks. âJust⊠stop, okay? I donât wanna do this. I donât wanna talk about any of it. Not us, and definitely not about anything that happened in the summer.â
The word us echoes, and Steveâs stomach drops.
You look like youâve just been hit.
âMax,â you plead. âIf this is about what you heard in the hallwayââ
âI mean it,â Max says, stepping back, eyes glassy. âI canât be part of⊠this. Not anymore. I donât want to be.â
That is what shuts you up. Your eyes sting, and you swallow, fighting the lump forming in your throat.
Max doesn't stay to witness your expression. Because she can't. Not when those last words to you are a total lie.
She kicks off on her skateboardâfast, almost franticâwheels scraping harshly against concrete as she bolts away from you.
Steve steps out from behind the corner just as you turn around.
Your eyes are wet, and you freeze when you see him.
He lifts both hands slowly, the way you might approach a scared animal.
âHey,â he says gently. âI didn't mean to intrude. I just⊠saw a little.â
Your chin trembles, so you look away.
Steveâs voice softens even more. âSo... it's not Lucas, huh?â
You donât know what to say.
âYou and Max?â he finishes quietly. âNo judgment. I promise.â
Your eyes widenâfragile and scared, and relieved all at once.
He steps closer, careful not to corner you. âHey,â he murmurs. âYou can tell me. Whatever it is⊠youâre still my sister, okay? That doesnât change.â
The dam breaks, and tears spill over.
Steve catches you in his arms before you crumble completely. You bury your face against his shoulder, and he holds you like he used to when you were little and had nightmares.
His voice is low and protective. âWhateverâs going on⊠Iâm here. Okay?â
You nod into his shirt. The first real comfort youâve felt in weeks.
After you've settled down, you and Steve both sit on a curbside on the backside of the school.Â
He shifts to face you fully. âWanna talk about it?â
You stare at your knees. âI thinkâŠâ Your breath shakes. âEverything is messed up.â
He processes your words, a quiet moment passing. âHow?â
âI⊠I like Max.â
Steve blinks once, waiting, and patient.
You wait for anger. Or confusion. Or disgust. But Steve just nods slowly, processing. âOkay,â he says softly. âOkay. Thatâs fine.â
Your shoulders sag with relief. Then he adds, a little confused: âSo then, you and Lucas aren't, you know⊠a thing?â
You sniff. âWe are.â
Steve chokes on nothing. Air maybe, and then stares. âYouâwhat?â
You laugh wetly through your tearsâthe smallest, saddest sound. "Or we were, at least. Before I pushed him awayâŠ"
"Because you like Max?"
Your gaze finally meets his. âI like Max... and Lucas. And they... like me too."
Steveâs mouth falls open just a little.
âOh,â he says again, but softer this time. More understanding. More gentle.
You begin to choke up. "Well, they did. Before everything fell apart.â
Steveâs face softens in a way you didnât expectâa way that makes you want to cry all over again. âIâm so scared, Steve.â
âOh, kid,â he murmurs. And then he leans over and pulls you into his chest. âYouâre not wrong. And youâre not weird, and youâre definitely not alone. You hear me?â
You break. Fully. Completely.
He holds you through every shaky breath, hand in your hair, voice low and steady, whispering reassuring words.
âI donât know what to do,â you whisper brokenly. Steve sighsâlong and soft, and unexpectedly understanding.
Your tears fall harder.
âWell,â he says, squeezing your hand. âGood newsâyouâre not alone. Big olâ brother Steveâs got you.â
â â a/n hi!!! hope you all enjoyed <3 i was planning on making this two parts only, but this was pretty lengthy alone, so i'll have to put the rest of it in a part three. lol oops. i got a little carried away with this lumax fic. but yes, the third part will mostly be angst/comfort with a lil humor. it's been so fun writing this. so please do look forward to it! if you'd like to be tagged for the final part lmk. if you're already in the taglist above, you'll automatically be tagged in part three.
Synopsis - Everyone on the team has their vices. It just so happens that yours is sat across the table looking at you.
Pairing - Luke Alvez x Female Reader
Warnings - smut. cursing. luke has a gorgeous filthy mouth.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 1.6k
Author's Note - my baby my baby my BAAAAAABY!! I have been in love with this man for years and years and I can't believe I haven't written more for him. if you ever have a luke request, please send it to me. love him with my whole heart <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
Vice - a weakness of character or behaviour; a bad habit. "Cigars happen to be my father's vice."
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
"Italian food."
The entire team laughs, faces illuminated by the warm yellow lights in Rossi's backyard.
"Yeah, no shit," Tara retorts, looking pointedly at Dave. "Doesn't take a behavioural analyst to figure that one out."
"Look, you asked the question, I answered."
He reclines back in his chair and takes a sip of his wine, looking around the table.
"Okay Tara, you go. What's your vice?"
She chuckles to herself before confessing.
"Super steamy period romances."
Everyone bursts into more laughter.
"Wait, what?"
"What kind?"
She's clutching at her sides as she answers.
"All kinds! Movies, books, TV shows. If it has corsets and sex, I'm in."
Your cheeks are aching from smiling so hard. You're not sure who first raised the initial question, but it's really allowed you to get to know each other a little bit deeper.
"Okay, enough about me. Simmons, what's your vice?"
"I have six kids. I don't have time for a vice."
He sounds serious, but he's grinning as he says it.
"I think the six kids are a result of an old vice."
The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, several glasses of wine almost obliterating your verbal filter. Your team howl with laughter.
"No comment," Matt wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. "Golfing is a safer option now. No risk of unplanned surprises."
"I had to change mine after kids, too," JJ chimes in. "I used to smoke cigarettes after bad cases, but I can't anymore. What kinda mom would I be if I lectured the boys about the dangers of nicotine, and then got caught chain smoking in the backyard?"
"A cool one," you shrug, yelping when she jokingly punches you in the arm.
"What about you, hotshot?" she asks, the whole team turning their attention to you. "What's your vice?"
You desperately avoid any eye contact, trying to play it cool. You just know Luke has that glint in his eye as he looks at you pointedly.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
"Oh, fuck," you groan, fingers threading into the dark curls of his hair.
"Shhh, honey," he murmurs, lifting his head from between your legs to look up at you. "You and I both know how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught."
He dives back in, tongue gliding and flicking all the spots that make you keen. You slap one hand over your mouth, the other grappling to hold onto the leather beneath you.
"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he taunts, condescension dripping from his tone. "The thrill turns you on, doesn't it, baby? The risk of getting caught only makes you hotter."
You whine against your palm, bucking your hips to urge him to keep going.
"What do you want, princesa? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."
He loves this. Loves hearing you beg. Loves having you relinquish complete control and let him take care of you. Loves that he can turn you, the most independent, headstrong woman he knows, into a whining, needy mess.
"Fingers," you croak out. "Make me come, Luke, please."
He grins up at you like the cat who got the cream, self satisfied smirk never leaving his lips.
"Okay, baby," he soothes. "Since you asked so pretty."
He slides two fingers into you with embarrassing ease, crooking them in the way he knows you like.
"Oh, sweet girl, what would the team think? Huh? What do you think they'd say if they saw you like this, letting me finger fuck you in the backseat of my car in the parking garage?"
He's muttering lowly, under his breath, but you hear him clear as day. He loves to patronise you, tease you, get under your skin. In everyday life, he treats you with the utmost respect. In bed, not so much. You love it.
"Couldn't even wait until we got home. Poor baby, just had to take the edge off."
His eyes meet yours, like a magnetic force. His gaze is so dark, it has you squirming in place.
"It was the shirt," you choke out. "Fucking shirt."
"Hmm?" he hums against you, the vibrations pulling you closer to the edge.
"Your shirt," you moan as his thumb finds your clit. "Makes your arms look so, fuck, so big."
Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You can practically see his ego inflating.
"I'll let you wear it tomorrow morning, if you want. If you can still walk by then, that is."
You're right on the precipice, orgasm almost within reach. If he keeps talking to you like this, you'll be at the finish line in no time.
"Oh, I've got a better idea. Why don't I fuck you in it?"
The idea makes your head spin, sending you straight into your climax. Sharp white heat licks up your spine, curling your toes and arching your back. Your grip tightens in his hair and he groans, low and honeyed.
"That's it, baby," he's murmuring. "Ride it out. Good girl."
You finally relax, melting into the leather seats. Luke crawls from his position to lean over you, resting his body onto yours. He kisses you gently at first, then dirtier as you come back to yourself.
"My place or yours?" he whispers against your lips.
"Yours is closer."
"Mine it is."
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
"Hello? Earth to Hotshot?"
JJ nudges you playfully, grinning at you from ear to ear.
"What you thinking about?"
"Nothing," you stutter, clearing your throat. "Nothing at all."
You make the mistake of lifting your gaze from your lap. There, staring at you from across the table, is Luke Alvez. You almost wish you could slap that smug smirk off of his face.
"Come on, girl!" Tara hollers.
"Everyone has a vice," Spencer begins. "You have to. Especially in our line of work. We have to have some kind of outlet. Some sort of release."
Release. You almost choke on your wine, patting yourself on the chest.
"Yeah, no. I, uh, I like British reality TV. I guess that's mine."
The team laugh, everyone teasing you relentlessly. You risk a glance at Luke, and regret it immediately. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and chuckles, knowing look in his eye. You're petrified for a moment that he can read your mind.
"Okay then Spence. Your turn," you prompt, desperate to take the attention off yourself.
Spencer starts rambling about quantum physics, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
Relief.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
"Yeah, this is what you needed, isn't it baby?"
You try to respond, but Luke's huge hands wrapped around your throat are making it a little difficult.
"My poor sweet girl, just needed some relief huh? You sick of being in charge all the time? You want me to take care of you?"
His tone is low and melted, the timbre of it settling into your bones. All you can do is whine and nod your head in response.
His hips repeatedly snap into yours, his body melded to you. He's completely smothering you with his weight, but you don't mind. You like the closeness.
You lean up to kiss him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He's swallowing your moans, leaning his head forward to rest against yours.
"Fuck, you sound so pretty," he groans. "You gonna come for me, mama? Give me what I want?"
"Yes," you breathe. "Yes. Please, baby. Please."
"Who am I to deny you when you beg so fucking sweet?"
The hand that's not around your throat snakes between your sweat slicked bodies to rub circles on your clit, throwing you over the edge.
Your back arches, hips writhing on Luke's soft cotton sheets. You're squeezing him so tight he's seeing stars.
"Oh fuck baby, oh fuck."
Luke goes boneless, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. He releases his grip on your throat and wraps both arms around you, pressing you together impossibly closer.
"We get better at this every time," he chuckles.
You smack him jokingly, before bursting into laughter. Soon, the two of you are crying happy tears, revelling in the afterglow.
â” â”  ·ă â” ăă * · â”
"I'm gonna get a refill. Anyone need anything from the kitchen?"
You stand from your seat and make your way inside, taking note of the replies.
"I'll help you," Luke says, rising to join you. Neither of you see the way everyone at the table looks at each other knowingly.
You're barely through the door when you feel him against you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a kiss onto your shoulder, murmuring in your ear.
"I'm your vice, aren't I?"
You shake your head, breathing out a laugh.
"In your dreams, Alvez."
He nips at your neck before continuing.
"Admit it. I'm your dirty little bad habit that you just can't kick."
You turn in his arms to face him, running your fingers through his hair.
"Talk the talk all you want, Luke. You and I both know this works both ways."
Your quirk your brow at him, and he leans in and kisses you chastely.
"Old habits die hard, huh?" he grins.
"Wouldn't have it any other way," you smirk back.
Outside, the team decide they'll continue to let you both lie to them for a little while longer. It's more fun for everyone that way.
Summary: A Sully always protects their own, but the cost of standing between your brothers and a Recomâs rifle is a silence that terrifies them.
âš Based on this request! âš
The metal floor of the Sea Dragon is vibrating under your cheek, a cold thrum that tastes like salt and ozone. Everything is a blur of neon yellow emergency lights and the sharp, stinging smell of RDA fuel.
"Get up! Sis, look at me!"
Loâakâs voice is raw with a desperation youâve never heard before. You try to push yourself up but your arms feel like water. The last thing you remember is the heavy crack of a rifle butt against your templeâa white-hot explosion of pain when you tried to lunge for the knife at Quaritchâs belt.
Now, the world wonât stop tilting.
"Don't touch her!" Loâak snarls, his shadow falling over you as he tries to shield you from the recoms, even with his hands bound. "You touch her one more time and Iâyou skxawng, if she doesn't wake upâ"
"Lo'ak..." you whisper but the name feels heavy, sliding out of your mouth like lead. Your vision is doubling; there are two Loâaks, both of them wearing the same expression of pure terror.
Then, the world dissolves into chaos.
The high-pitched hiss of arrows, the thump of bodies hitting the deck, and the unmistakable sound of a banshee diving close. Through the haze, you see a blur of blue and stripes.
Neteyam.
He drops. Heâs a whirlwind of motion, cutting Loâakâs ties in a single fluid stroke before turning to you. The moment his hands touch your shoulders, the warrior mask heâs been wearing since the forest began to burn just... vanishes.
"Iâve got you. Iâve got you, Ma'ite he murmurs, his voice a low, grounding vibration against the ringing in your ears.
He slides one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you as if you weigh nothing. You let your head fall against his chest, the steady, frantic thumping of his heart the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
"Neteyam, she's not staying awake," Loâak chokes out, hovering at his shoulder, eyes wide and glassy. "She tried to fight him and heâ"
"I know, baby brother. Move. Now."
The flight back is a fever dream of wind and the smell of Neteyamâs skinâforest rain and dried herbs. Every time your eyes slip shut, his arm tightens around you, a sharp "Stay with me" echoing in your ear. Heâs just a big brother who is terrified heâs losing a piece of his soul.
-
The shift in the air is what hits you first. But the sound that truly pierces through the concussion-induced fog itâs a broken sob coming from right beside your ear.
"Is she okay? Neteyam, why isn't she waking up?"
Tukâs voice is high and reedy, trembling with a terror that sounds too heavy for her small frame. Sheâs standing against Loâakâs side. Her eyes are fixed on your limp body.
"She's okay, Tuk," Neteyam grits out, his jaw so tight it looks like stone. He shifts his grip, tucking your head more securely. "Sheâs just sleeping. She had a hard hit. Look at meâsheâs breathing, see?"
"But she won't wake up!" Tuk wails and comes next to you.
Sheâs sitting at the foot of your bed, her tail wrapped tightly around her own ankles, watching your chest rise and fall with an intensity thatâs heartbreaking.
Every time you groan or shift in your sleep, she flinches, her big eyes darting to Neteyam for permission to move. "Can I touch her?" she whispers, her voice barely audible over the waves.
Neteyam looks up, his expression softening. "Softly, Tuk-Tuk. Just her hand."
She reaches out, her small hand trembling as she covers yours. Your skin is cool but hers is burning with a nervous fever.
"Wake up," she breathes, leaning over to whisper right into your ear, her braids brushing your cheek. "Iâll give you my best glow-shells. I won't even get mad when you take my favorite fruit. Just wake up so we can go swimming."
Your fingers twitch. It feels like dragging your soul through deep mud, but you manage to squeeze her hand back. Itâs weak, barely a ghost of a pressure, but Tuk gasps as if youâve shouted.
"She felt me! Neteyam, she squeezed!"
Neteyam is across the mat in a heartbeat, his hand hovering over yours, a breath of pure relief escaping his lungs. He looks at Tuk, then back at you
"I told you," he says, his voice thick as he pulls both of his sisters into a cautious, protective huddle. "Sheâs a Sully. We don't stay down for long."
-
The glow worms in the family pod are dim, casting soft teals and greens across the woven mats. The silence of the reef is heavy, broken only by the rhythmic lapping of the ocean outside.
You wake up to a dull ache behind your eyes. When you try to move, a hand immediately settles on your forehead.
"Easy," Neteyam whispers. Heâs sitting cross-legged beside your mat, a bowl of medicinal paste in his lap. He looks exhausted, his braids messy and his shoulders slumped. "Don't move your head. The Tsahik says the pressure needs to go down."
On your other side, Loâak and Tuk are curled up, their hands firmly gripping yours even in their sleep. They look like they haven't moved in hours.
"Weâre home. Youâre safe." Neteyam voice hitches, just a tiny bit. "You really scared us, sis. Don't ever do that again. Don't play hero when I'm not there to catch you."
You manage a weak smile. "I know you're always there."
Neteyam huffs a soft, watery laugh, brushing a stray hair from your face with a tenderness that aches. "Yeah, always. Now go back to sleep. We are not going anywhere."
And for the first time since the ship, the world stops spinning. You close your eyes, anchored by the weight of Loâak and Tukâs hand and the steady presence of the big brother who always carries the world so you don't have to.
There really is so much to unpack with Ilya's reaction to the forehead kiss Shane gives him in ep 2 and the glimpse we get into Ilyaâs mind.Â
Shane is feeling relaxed and comfortable and happy to give affection. He wants to just be in that moment for a little while longer. He wants to reciprocate the care he received.Â
Ilya is getting what he wants, desperately wants, and it scares him to death.Â
Could Shane feel the same way? He simultaneously hopes he does and doesnât. Ilya is too complicated. He wants Shane, all of him, and he knows now heâs in far too deep.Â
He canât have Shane and he knows it. Russia. Family. Baggage.Â
Shane deserves happy, safe, boring.Â
Ilya shouldnât be on the receiving end of such a tender kiss. Shane will find someone he can share a life with. It makes Ilyaâs stomach sick.Â
Dates. Birthdays. New Yearâs. Family dinners.
They belong to someone else. Ilya hates that someone. Someone who can love Shane with the right words and uncomplicated ease.Â
But itâs easy to love Shane. Itâs so fucking easy. He knows it is because, for him, it is impossible not to.
And if a second more is spent here, in the false hope of something, Ilya knows that time will tick past a point of no return. Shane canât kiss him so sweetly again.
And moments later, Shane is sitting on the stairs asking questions and being soft and holding onto Ilyaâs jacket to keep Ilya there that second longer.Â
Shane kisses him sweetly again, already. Ilya started it. Enough.
â„ïž this can be read as a stand alone. but if you want the lore, you can find the series masterlist here â enjoy!
â„ïž pairing: neteyam x f! spellman! na'vi!reader
â„ïž word count: < 3k
â„ïž content warnings: aged-up characters, mild use of y/n & mild explicit language - i think thatâs all (?)
âShitâshit!â
You yank Tanhiâs reins left, the sudden movement pulling a tired protest from her throat. Her wings beat unevenly against the air, the rhythm sloppy now, desperate.
âCome on, girl,â you pant, leaning low over her neck as if your weight alone might keep her flying. âJust a little farther. Weâre almost there.â
Tanhi answers with a strained screech.
You feel it through the bondâher exhaustion bleeding into your own limbs like sand filling your bones. Every muscle burns. Every breath feels heavier to breathe than the last.
Youâd been flying all morningâhaving left the forest way before the sun could give you even a glimpse of daylight. Long before the forest woke.
Awaâatlu should be just ahead. Your dad is going to lose his mind when he finds you there.
If he finds you there.
Fuck, who are you trying to kid? You're bound to be discovered. The goal isn't to stay hidden forever. Just long enough.
Wind roars in your ears as you yank the reins, trying to angle the fall, trying to steerâanythingâbut gravity doesn't care about your plans. The ocean rushes up beneath you, glittering blue and merciless, unfamiliar. Slightlyâokay, very intimidating.
Tanhi slams into the shoreline with a spray of sand and splash of water, skidding hard across the wet beach. You barely have time to roll free before you crash beside her, sand filling your mouth.
For a second, the sky spins overhead in blinding white sunlight.
Thenâ "Identify yourself!"
You groan, shoving yourself upright and spitting grit from your mouth. âJesusâyes, Iâm okay. Thank you very much for checâ"
You barely get the words out before something slams into you, a heavy weight tackling you straight back into the sand.
"Hey! Get off me yâ!â
Your protest dies when cold metal presses to your throat.
The Naâvi above you holds a dagger steady beneath your jaw, his grip firm on your wrist where heâs pinned it against the ground.
Up close, heâs⊠almost beautiful.
Almost. If he werenât threatening to kill you.
His skin is bright reef-cyan, dark patterns swirling across his broad shoulders. Dark brown locs are tied halfway back, the rest falling loose around his shoulders, several strands brushing dangerously close to your nose. A few curls frame sharp cheekbones marked with intricate inked designs.
And his eyesâbright blue. Scintillating, like the ocean. Focused.
"I said," he repeats, voice low and edged with warning, "identify yourself."
You hear another voice then. "Ao'nung, let her go, man."
His gaze flickers downward firstâto the hand heâs pinning. To the extra finger there. Then his lip curls downward, glowering. "No. Her kind welcomes danger."
The other disagrees, and Ao'nung glances briefly toward the voice behind him.
That's all the opening you need.
You twist sharply, sweeping his leg out from under him, flipping your weight. The next second the positions are reversed.
Now heâs the one in the sand.
Your dagger is out before he even finishes falling, the blade hovering inches from his throat.
âMy kind,â you snap, breath still uneven, âhas a name.â
You lean down slightly, glaring. "I am of the Omatikaya."
Even pinned down, even with a blade hovering above his throat, Ao'nung looks amused.
Actually amusedâthe scowl from earlier wiped clean.
His mouth curves slowly into a smirk. You immediately hate him.
"I am looking for my people. Are the Sullys here?"
He hums thoughtfully. Feigning thought. "Possibly."
There were dozens of islands out here. You could have landed anywhere.
"Are they here or not?" you demand, growing desperate. You apply more pressure into the blade on his throat, earning you a sharp inhale at your threat.
Only, his smirk only grows wider now. Clearly, still very amused. His eyes flick over youânot dismissive this time, but measuring.
The dagger. Your confidence. The stance. The way you hold yourself, expecting him to fight back.
"You are very bold," Aoânung remarks, voice almost lazy beneath the blade. âFor someone who just arrived.â
Your grip tightens. âAnswer the question.â
"Or what?" He challenges. "Are you going to put that blade to use?"
"Show me to your Olo'eyktan." You demand, ignoring his question.
You study him. "Are the Sullys here?" you ask one last time.
"Maybe," he finally says, a smirk growing on his lips.
"You can remove the blade now. If I wished to throw you off, I would have already done so."
His eyes flick up to yours again, bright with mischief. "Though, I am enjoying this."
Your eyes narrow at him, the dagger not budging even slightly.
Thenâa deep horn blasts across the water.
You turn toward the sound instinctively.
Big mistake. The second your attention shifts, Ao'nung surges upward. Sand explodes beneath you as he flips you back over, pinning your shoulders down again.
"You are a slow learner," he murmurs, the smirk still tugging at his mouth. You snarl, and shove against him, twisting and kicking to break his hold.
"Ao'nung!" A female voice cuts through the struggle like a breeze over water. "What are you doing?"
You glance past his shoulder. A young Naâvi woman approaches across the beach, her movements graceful, almost gliding over the sand. Her skin is the same light, luminous turquoise, freckles dusted across her nose and cheeks like grains of twinkling stars.
Ao'nung doesn't look away from you.
She examines you briefly, her gaze catching your distinct features, and recognition paints her face. Her voice is softerâsweet, like honey. "I can show you to the Sullys. If that is what you are here for," she says. "They will be at the council gathering."
"Is that what that horn was?" you grunt, still struggling beneath Ao'nung's grip.
There's no point now. Except pride.
Neither of you seems willing to give up.
She nods. "Yes. Come." Then glares at Ao'nung, commanding silently.
He looks up just in time to catch itâthat's your moment.
You twist sharply, slipping one arm free and rolling sideways out of Ao'nung's grasp before he can react. You scramble to your feet and dart toward her side, baring your teeth at him in warning.
She tries to hide a smile. "Ao'nung... as future Olo'eyktan, you should tend cautiously to guests." Tsireya's eyes settle gently on you.
Your pupils blow with panic, realization painting your expression. "Forgive me," you say to him quickly.
Ao'nung stands and dusts sand from his chest, visibly annoyed. Though, the flick of amusement in his eyes confuse you. "Maybe. I will think about it."
Despite how irritating he is, you walk up to him and gently tap your finger on your forehead, gesturing to him in greeting. "I See you."
He studies you for a second before reluctantly deciding to return the greeting.
You turn toward the young woman properly now, and do the same.
She mirrors the gesture, and warmly says, "I See you."
"I am Y/N. Spellman."
Her smile brightens, and her ears flick upwards at the name. As if she recognizes it.
"I am Tsireya."
âCome,â she says again, gesturing toward the village across the water. âThe council will already be gathering.â
âIâll stay back,â you murmur quietly to Tsireya. âIâm not part of this.â
She studies your face for a moment, as if she understands more than youâve said out loud, then nods. "I will find you after."
With that, she slips into the gathering. Aoânung joins her, but not before looking back over his shoulder. You canât tell if the expression that settles on his face reads as intrigued or annoyed. Regardless, you decide you donât like him.
You remain where you areâhalf hidden behind a cluster of woven canoes and coral rock, the salty wind tugging softly at your braids.
You need to stay unseen.
For as long as possible.
The reef village stretches out before you in a wide crescent of pale sand and shallow turquoise water. Dozens of Metkayina gather in a tightening circle, their voices overlapping in restless murmurs.
Even from a distance, two figures command the center.
The TsahĂŹk.
The Oloâeyktan.
Their garments alone set them apartâintricate shells and beads, ceremonial markings painted across their skin. Authority radiates from them like heat from sun-warmed stone.
They look powerful.
Unmovable.
The TsahĂŹk suddenly wailsâa sharp, grief-stricken cry that slices through the crowd.
âMy spirit sister and her baby have been murdered by the Sky People!â
For a moment the world seems to tilt, the edges of your vision going faint and blurry as fear crawls cold and sharp through your chest. Your fingers curl into the rough coral beside you.
You force chest into your lungs in a deep breath. But your chest still feels heavy.
Quaritch.
He knows they're here.
The events in the forest replay in your mind like a raw, vivid nightmare. Just like ir does most nights in your sleep. The recoms. Quaritch stabbing you. The kidnapping of Spider.
Breathe.
You wipe the hot tears you didn't realize were falling. The last thing you needed was your family to be in danger again.
Your dad hadn't returned to the forest. Not in five days, when he had promised two.
Now you understand why.
The crowd erupts.
Cries burst from every directionâhisses, and outraged shouts, the pounding of spears striking the ground in furious agreement.
The Oloâeyktan steps forward, anger flashing across his face. âThis war has come to us!â he roars, tramping his spear weapon into the ground in protest. This elicits an uproaring outrage in the clan, seemingly in agreement with his proposition to fight against the Sky People.
"Now it is here!"
The impact echoes across the beach.
The crowd explodes againâvoices rising into a storm of fury and fear. Bodies surge closer together, shoulders squared, teeth bared.
They want to fight.
Your gaze sweeps the chaosâand lands on him instantly. Dark blue skin in a sea of turquoise.
Jake.
Even from here you can read the tension in his posture. The tight set of his shoulders. The way his hands flex at his sides.
âNo, you donâtââ
You barely hear the words. But you know that expression. Youâve seen it a thousand times. Heâs thinking the same thing you are.
This will only make it worse.
You stay hidden, watching the argument spiralâvoices clashing, accusations flying. The TsahĂŹkâs fury burns hotter each time Jake tries to speak. Shame flickers in her words when she blames him for encouraging the tulkun to leave.
Thenâmovement beside Jake catches your eye. Someone steps forward.
"Listen!" The voice cuts through the chaos. "Listen to him!"
Your breath catches at the all too familiar voice.
Neteyam.
For a moment, the noise of the crowd fades into the background.
Eight months. It had been eight excruciating months without him.
Youâre both nearly 20 now.
But he looksâdifferent.
Thatâs an understatement.
He stands tall beside Jake, shoulders broader than you rememberâsquared with quiet authority, like someone used to command. His stance is steady, even beneath the weight of the clan's anger pressing in from all sides.
He no longer stands beside his father.
He stands with him.
Your pupils widen with growing admiration.
Neteyam's features are more striking than you remember. He's all sharp cheekbones with a firm jaw, freckles scattered across his face like stars against the deep blue of his skin, and piercing amber eyes that burn with fierce focus as they flicker between Jake and the restless clan.
That's when you see it.
The ink.
A bold, intricate marking stretches across the upper right side of his faceâdark patterned lines sweeping across his temple and cheekbone.
Not nearly as many as Ao'nung, but the one is enough to stand out, striking all the same.
Despite the tension choking the air around youâyou can't look away.
Your breath catches in your throat, the sight of him rooting you in place. The newly inked marking on his face makes you curious, but your stomach dropsâboth at once. It makes you wonder what else you missed out on. The feeling settles uncomfortably in your chest.
He speaks again, voice calm but commanding, helping Jake steady the crowd. Their words cut through the rising fury slowly, carefullyâpleading for restraint instead of war.
Neteyam makes a point.
He holds an unfamiliar device in the air, completely silencing the clan. He explains, demands, voice coming out desperateâearning the clan's fear and surrender.
The Olo'eyktan exchanges a long glance with the Tsahik. Then orders are given.
The gathering breaks apart in restless waves as the clan disperses across the beach.
Only then do you allow yourself to move.
You slip further back along the edge of the village, weaving quietly between stacked nets and anchored canoes. Your eyes search instinctivelyâand find Neteyam again.
He's moving toward someone.
Lo'ak.
Your heart swells at the familiar face.
The two brothers stop a short distance away, voices low but heated. You creep closer, keeping to the shadows of the woven huts, careful not to draw attention.
Lo'ak looks older too.
Taller.
His shoulders have broadened, chest filled out much like Neteyam's.
You stare for a moment.
Jesus. What is in this water?
Their argument buildsâLo'ak gesturing sharply, frustration clear in every movement.
Neteyams steps forward, evidently more upset now. Their faces are inches away now, and youâre afraid that their argument might escalate.
You step forward, slowly from the shade.
ThenâLo'ak stops. Mid-sentence. And his eyes slide past Neteyam's shoulder.
They land on you.
Disbelief paints his features.
Neteyam frowns, and turns too.
Your heart is hammering so violently in your chest it mutes everything else around you. The pattering of the rain hitting the water, the waves of the ocean, the tumult and yips from nearby clan membersâthe chaos that is war, breaking out.
For a split second, everything stills.
Neteyam's eyes land on you.
And the breath leaves him all at once.
The dandelion pendant rests against your chest. The same one he returned the morning he destroyed you.
Your hair is longer now, thicker, braided perfectly and threaded with colorful beads and feathers. Forest feathers, the kind from home.
Your eyes meet his. Gentle, and fierceâachingly familiar.
For a second, Neteyam thinks he's imagining you. Some cruel trick his mind conjured after months of missing you so violently it sometimes it hurt to breathe.
But then you move. Your weight shifts slightly, raindrops catching in the beads woven through your hair.
And he realizes. You're real.
You're here.
And you're looking straight at him.
Everything else fades. The noise of the village. Responsibility. The war. None of it exists anymore.
There is only you.
Standing there after eight months of silence.
His chest tightens unwillingly, painfully. "What are you doing here?"
The words come out harsher than he means to. Immediately, your expression falters.
You start talking quicklyâafraid he'll beat you to words. âIâI didnât mean to take you by surprise. I justâŠ" You swallow, words stumbling over each other. "I knew something was wrong when Dad's trip here was extended. And when I got here and heard what was happeningââ
You take a breath that shakes.
"I thought maybe I could help." You stop yourself, swallowing hard. "I know you don't want me here," you add, quietly. "But I am."
Neteyam's expression shatters. Because thatâ
That is exactly what he feared. That you believed the lie. That you thought he pushed you away because he didn't want to be with you.
Like there wasn't a day that he didn't think about you.
He crosses the distance between you before you can say anything else, searching your face frantically, as if afraid you might disappear again.
âYou should not be here,â he says, voice low, his eyes jumping back and forth between your own.
Your shoulders sink slightly.
âI know,â you whisper.
âBut you told me once that I lived between two worlds.â Your voice trembles slightly. âM-maybe at first I did.â
You lift your chin just a little. âBut here I am now. In this world.â
Your gaze holds his.
âI am Naâvi. Through and through.â
Your eyes meet his again. âYouâre the one who helped me believe it.â
The words shatter him, and his expression falters. The memory crashes into him all at once.
The lie. The morning in the forest. Watching you walk away believing you were never enough.
âI lied to you,â he says hoarsely.
You blink slowly, eyes widening.
âThat day in the forest⊠everything I said.â
His voice breaks. âI thought if I pushed you away, you would be safe.â
The space between you goes painfully still.
âAnd instead,â he whispers, âI have spent every day wishing I'd done somethingâanything. Before hurting you like that. It killed me.â
You swallow. âNeteyamââ
But he doesnât let you finish.
Because this time, heâs the one who kisses you.
Not careful.
Not hesitant.
His lips crash into yours with months of longing and regret and love he never stopped feeling.
You freeze in shock for half a heartbeatâbefore your hands fist in his hair and pull him closer, deepening the kiss. It's messy and desperate and overwhelming.
Nothing like the first one.
When you finally pull apart, you're both breathless, foreheads resting together.
Your noses brushing with every shaky inhale. Neteyam lets out a soft laugh that breaks halfway through.
Tears spill down his cheeks before he even realizes theyâre there. Then his thumb brushes gently across your jaw, like heâs confirming youâre still real.
âI am never letting you walk away from me again.â
You smile, tears slipping down your own cheeks. âYou canât get rid of me that easily.â
Then he grins with tears in his eyes and says, âI see you.â â still in disbelief that you actually came looking for him. âI have loved you from the moment I saw you wandering in the forest. Which nearly got you killed by the way,â he grins despite himself, and reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
âYou shouldnât have been out there. Just like you shouldnât be here now, tĂŹyawn.â (love)
You blush at the word he uses. âI could not help it. I love you so much it drives me crazy.â
His hand still cradles your face, and heâs about to pull you in for another kiss whenâ
âWell,â a familiar voice cuts in dryly, âIâm right here too, you know, Spellman?â
You both turn.
Loâak stands a few feet away with his arms crossed, eyebrows raised, trying very hard to look annoyedâand failing miserably.
Your face lights up instantly. âLoâak!â
You laugh breathlessly, stepping past Neteyam to run to him. He spreads his arms dramatically. âAs your best friend, this is the welcome I get?â
âI missed you too, skxawng.â
Loâak's arms tighten around you, and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neckâyour familiar scent alone relaxing him.
âYeah, yeah. I figured.â He releases you, then rolls his eyes. âIt's about time you get here. Heâs been unbearable without you," Lo'ak adds.
Neteyamâs jaw tightens. âLoâak.â
âYou were moping.â
âI was not.â
âYou stared at the ocean for three hours yesterday.â
âThat was thinking.â
âThat was pining.â
Neteyam bares his teeth slightly, but Loâak only grins wider.
Before the argument can escalate, another voice slips inâsoft and curious.
âSo this is the girl I have heard so much about.â
You turn.
Tsireya approaches with a gentle smile, her bright eyes studying you with open interest. Her gaze flickers briefly between you and Neteyam, clearly piecing things together.
Before she can say anything elseâAoânung steps forward beside her. He folds his arms, looking you up and down.
âHow many of you aliens are there?â
Neteyamâs jaw tightens instantly, and he steps forward before you can even react, placing himself half in front of you without thinking.
His ears pin back, teeth flashing. âWatch what you say.â
Aoânung only smirks. Tsireya sighs softly, clearly used to this.
Lo'ak begins, "You know, that is getting real old, fish lipsâ"
A rumbling cry echoes across the water, interrupting.
Everyoneâs attention shifts toward the ocean, the mood sobering quickly.
Loâak's ears pin back in realization. âFuck this. There are bigger problems.â
â„ïž A/N - thank you for all the love and support on this series!!!! i decided reader and neteyam should have a happy ending after all. you can imagine what happens after this... reader and neteyam beat the recoms as a power duo, duh! (i actually have this ending written out because i wanted to see them fighting side-by-side for once. just decided to leave it out & end it here - save you from all the drama/action). anyway, hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it!!! <3 love, alita
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is there going to be an epilogue of "promises"? like a part where he lives and comes back and all is happy or where he dies and the rest of the fam come back and all is sad? (or she goes looking for him đ đ)
mayhaps i already have an epilogue written in my works⊠đ€ only, i wonât say exactly what it is to keep the suspense and anticipation. hehe, donât hate me đ«Ł
Summary: After a secret one-night stand with her brotherâs biggest hockey rival, she chooses to raise her daughter alone, hiding the truth to avoid scandal and protect her family. Five years later, Ilya Rozanov discovers he has a child and demands to be part of her life, turning a heated sports rivalry into a deeply personal battle.
As anger, betrayal, and legal tensions rise, both parents must confront the past and learn to co-parent for the sake of the little girl who binds them together, proving the hardest game they will ever play is not on the ice, but in building a fragile and unexpected family.
synopsis: with the RDA's return, neteyam has put up with a lotâtrainings, babysitting, and endless sessions to prepare for his dream hunt. but with f!spellman!reader by his side, it'd be an understatement for him to say... it's tolerable. as his rock, and his best friend, reader insists on looking after his siblings one day. but it's too late when neteyam realizes that this single decision alone will change everything for not just the both of themâbut for his family, and their clan.
content warning(s): brief use of y/n, moderate peril, depictions of kidnapping and blood, slight explicit language, angst, unresolved tension, miscommunication, and displacement - I think thatâs all!
Youâre now 18, andâŠ
Itâs officialâNeteyam has had enough of Jakeâs limits and restrictions.
Not long after the return of the RDA, Neteyam throws himself into his own training, shoulders tight beneath his fatherâs shadow. Being in a role right below Jakeâs sharpens him, but you catch the moments when he looks awayâlike heâs afraid of failing, or being seen too clearly.
Youâre the only one who catches it, because heâs mastered hiding it.
For the last three months, Neteyam has put up with a lot. More than he ever asked for or wanted. Whether it was Tarsem on his ass about the next step in becoming a full adult in the clan through his Dream Huntâand never missing a single session of training for it, Jake nagging him about taking the younger warriors on drills in the event of possible returning human forces, or even Loâak giving him so much shit over every single minute Neteyam spends following him; with only the means to protect his siblings â heâs obliged, and listened to all of it without complaint.
Neteyam has never argued, never once raised his own protests about how exerting and time-consuming everything actually is on one manâs shoulders.
Yet, he wants to be out there.
Since the return of the RDA, he has never demanded nor voiced his grievances over the role his father designated him.
âDad, I should be among those who fight. If I'm to learn, I need to be out there."
Jake looks tired, but resolute. He shakes his head and places a hand on Neteyam's shoulder.
"No, son. This mission is too dangerous. High Camp needs protectingâyou're part of that defense."
Neteyam's expression falters with a flick of his tail, betraying frustration. "I'm not just shield duty, sir. Let me stand beside you. Not behind."
Still... Jake denies him.
The worst part is, he can understand all of it to an extent.
Surely, Jake holds a sense of duty as his father. He fears for his safety, particularly his younger siblings, and for that reason alone, he draws the lineâenforces strict boundaries.
But over the last few months, Neteyam sees itâJake balancing clan duty and fatherhood.
He notices the weight of the burden Jake carries alone. Neteyam just wants to help. Still, the heavy leadership, more often than not, prompts him to be cautious about exposing family to risk.
He commiserates with Jake, he doesâespecially given his father's past experiences. He never blames him, nor judges his behavior; more than any of his other children, he understands.
But Neteyam thinks he's shown his own capability, that heâs proven his reliability through his contribution and dedication to the clan over the years. He wants to be useful during threats, not merely kept in a safe corner.
Jake trains warriors and runs stealth raids with them. So, now that they are presently gathered at their assigned area in High Camp, Neteyam surreptitiously plops himself down in the strategy circle, accompanied by you, of course.
You lean into him, furtively glancing at Jake in the center. "You don't think he'll notice... do you?"
The last three months have been excruciating, to say the least. But tolerable, because, wellâlet's be honest, you're the only thing that makes this all bearable.
You're his favorite person to be around, his best friend; too many great things about you. You're clever, courageous, and persistentâeven in a world that underestimates you. Steadfast and endlessly willing. The only one who meets him step-for-stepâmatching his fire with your own.
"No, not unless you lower your voice, Spellman."
Oh, and bonusâfor him, anywayâyou're ridiculously easy on the eyes. Breathtaking in a way that's distracting.
He tries not to think about it. Really, he does.
Heâs always thought you were beautifulâcaptivating, evenâfirst in that small, human way he noticed when you were both young. Small and fierce, and impossible to ignore.
But here, at eighteen⊠itâs different.
Your presence hits him harder, and he feels powerless against the way it reels him in. Itâs like he canât look straight at youâlike every stolen glance risks giving him away. Itâs in the way you move, the ease of your smile, the quiet confidence you've grown into.
Itâs ridiculous how easily you undo him. The sight of youâlaughing, determined, focusedâhits with the same force it did when you were kids, only now he struggles more to hide it.
He hates how distracting it is. How he can't not look at you.
Some days he wonders if you realize how often his eyes find you without permission.
Itâs astonishing, reallyâhow someone heâs known his whole life can unravel him simply by existing beside him.
He tries to tune into the debate, ignoring the frown you throw his way. Still, he feels it, and even so, knows you do it. He rolls his eyes to the side and watches as you focus on the center of the circleâtrying to gather intel just as intently as he is.
Neteyam watches you for all of three seconds before his ears perk and a smile tugs at his mouth, tail flicking once.
You feel his gaze like heat on your skin. "What? Quit staring. You'll blow our cover," you whisper.
But that's a lie, and he knows it. You and Neteyam are tucked pretty far in the back of the warrior circle that Jake wouldnât notice you even if you shouted. Neytiri wouldnât either, and Norm definitely wouldnât.
The only thing giving you away is the way his eyes fluster you.
You get all... fidgety, as Kiri calls it.
Oh, how Neteyam loves that you like him.
Even with your days fullâclan duties, evenings with your dad, trainings with other warriors, male warriorsâNeteyam knows you like him. Itâs never truly been a secret, though youâd absolutely argue otherwise.
But he loves it more than you think it is.
Because, let's be honest, how could you possibly think he doesn't know? That you've been successful in keeping it secret from him when you act the way you do? The moment that sticks with him mostâthe one that confirmed it without questionâwas when he almost kissed you.
That split-second when you didn't stop him, when you leaned into him before you realized what was happening.
And the way you panicked afterward.
He knows why you pulled away. Of course he does.
And he never held it against you. Never made you feel strange for it. He respects youâyour pace, your fears, your dreams. If anyone understands the reasons behind your choices, the shadows behind your hesitation, itâs him.
He finds your flustered secrecy ridiculously amusing. Stillâentirely adorable. He'll give you that.
"Did you meet Lo'ak?" he asks quietly, so as not to draw any attention. He was supposed to help you in the village, but never showed. Which, honestly, isn't much of a surprise considering his occasional flaky reputation. You didn't regard it much attention.
You shake your head, then ask, "Kiri?"
She was to help tend the wounded of young warriors Neteyam was training. Instead, Mo'at finished the job alone.
He shakes his head too.
If it were one of them, itâd be normal. They take turns being chaotic.
But both? Gone? At the same time?
That's not normal.
And Neteyamâs subtle ear-flick tells you heâs already thinking the same. "I'll go check on them," he whispers.
"No," you protest quietly, laying a hand on his forearm. You donât want him sacrificing this momentânot again, not for the thousandth time.
Sure, Neytiri and Jake have assigned him with that responsibility. But Itâs rare that you two manage to slip into the strategy circle unnoticed. Rare that he gets to be here at all, instead of wrangling siblings or running point on patrols, or getting called out to train with Tarsem.
"I'll find them," you insist. "You stay."
His ears dip once, conflicted. "Don't worry,â you assure him quietly. Before he can argue, you press a finger to your lips and slip out of the circle like a shadow.
You glance back only once. Neteyam gives you a small, solemn nod before turning his attention to Jake again.
You search everywhereâthe Sully's marui, the avatar marui, the lab trailer, and the entire sweep of High Camp.
Nothing. No tracks, no belongings, not even the trace of Spider's blue body paint dried up somewhere it shouldn't be.
They're not here. So you head straight to the cliff's edge and yip for Tanhi.
Minutes later, youâre flying over the forest canopy, scanning between branches, thinking of a dozen harmless places they might be. You keep telling yourself itâs nothingâjust another one of their outings.
But the worry keeps climbing.
You land at a small ledge beneath High Camp for a breather. As you dismount, your foot slips and you catch yourself with a soft laughâand then the memory hits.
Spider, just yesterday, fumbling onto Kiriâs ikran. Loâak cackling from behind:
"Bro, if you can't even climb onto an ikran, there's no way you'd make it up to the Old Shack."
Your laughter dies.
No.
He wouldn't... would he?
Youâre mounting again before the thought fully forms. Of course he would. You feel stupid for even doubting it.
Loâak has always been that wayâreckless, magnetic, impossible to say no to.
Since you were kids, itâs always played out the same: he gets that spark in his eyes, some wild idea tumbling into words before reason can catch up, you glow with the thrill of it, and before you know it, you're following him straight into trouble.
He didnât always mean to pull you in; sometimes, he just⊠had a way. A charm threaded through his grin, through the easy confidence that makes every bad idea sound like an adventure worth having.
You can almost hear him nowââCome on, itâll be fine. Just trust me.â And every single time, you did.
The thought makes your chest tighten, a dull ache blooming beneath your ribs.
You nudge Tanhi into the air, the rush of wind biting at your cheeks as you climb higher. The forest stretches beneath you in endless green waves, each gust pulling the memory apart until it dissolves into raw fear.
Your fingers tighten on the reins.
He would go. He would absolutely go.
Heâs probably laughing right nowâdragging Spider and Kiri along, pretending heâs not terrified of what might be waiting there. Thatâs how heâs always hidden it: the impulsivity, the guilt, the need to prove himselfâwith bravado sharpened into armor.
You push Tanhi harder. "Come on... come on..."
The wind whistles past your ears, the ground a blur far below. The mountains loom ahead, sharp and unforgiving, and your heart thrums with the same rhythm as Tanhiâs wingsâsteady, desperate, driven by one thought alone:
Please, let me be wrong.
You crouch low, fingers brushing against the damp soil; and discover the faint imprint of bare feet.
You know they're Spider's because of it's sizeâflanked by indentations of similar ones, only slightly biggerâLo'ak. And possibly Kiri.
You follow the trail until the tracks scatter around something massive and broken.
A downed Samson gunship lies tangled in vines, its hull half-swallowed by the forest.
The wreck creaks faintly in the breeze, suspended just off the ground like a trapped insect. You swallow hard, circling itâyour hand tracing a path through the ferns.
Then you see them.
A set of smaller prints, pressed lightly into the mud beside the others.
Tuk.
A sharp, cold thread winds through your chest.
You press your palm to the earth, drawing a long breath. Donât think the worst. At least theyâre togetherâŠ
In an area of possible danger. Ugh. You canât help it.
Your body assists youâyour new instincts heightening everything. The forest air is sharp and alive, layered with scents that feel like stories. You inhale again, deeper this timeâearth, ash, faint oil from the wrecked Samsonâthen something else.
Something wrong.
Itâs sharp in a way that scrapes the back of your throat. Not Naâvi. Not familiar.
Your heart lurches.
You find another trail, heavier, deliberateâboots. Too many of them.
Avatars?
Panic surges through your bloodstream. You donât even think; your body just moves.
You take off through the undergrowth, feet silent against the soilâthe way Neteyam taught you to move swiftly like the wind, quietly like breathing with the trees. You duck beneath branches, every muscle tuned to the rhythm of pursuit.
The forest narrows, every sound sharpening to painful clarity. You can hear your own breathing, the whisper of your braid against your back, and beneath it allâthe faint echo of voices.
You slow, easing through the brush.
âYes, sir. Moving out.â
It's Loâakâs voiceâsteady, and formal. Your shoulders ease.
You push closer, each step a whisper.
Thenâ âSee? I told you.â Kiri.
You exhale, relief crashing through you as you step from the trees.
âJesus,â Spider mutters, nearly jumping out of his skin at your sudden appearance.
âWhat the hell are you guys doing hereââ your gaze lands squarely on the mind behind it all, ââLoâak?â
He lifts his hands in surrender, wincing. âI know, Y/N. Okay? I already called it in.â
âGood. Letâs get the hell out of here.â You say quietly and move forward, hand finding the top of Tukâs head, her small braids brushing your palm as you herd them toward safer ground.
âYouâre going to be in so much trouble,â Kiri mutters, glaring at her brother.
âShh, Kiri. Stop,â he shoots back, tense.
âGuys, come on,â Spider urges, glancing toward the fading light.
But you freeze mid-step.
Something shifts in the air, and your ears twitch.
There, beneath the wind and rustle of leavesâa pattern of movement. Measured. Predatory. Close. Too close.
You catch the scent again, stronger now; and your pupils narrow.
âWhat?â Loâak whispers, noticing your stillness, following your line of sight.
You barely part your lips. âSomething isnât right. Tuk, hold on a secââ
âItâs almost eclipse. Come on!â Tuk calls, short limbs pushing her ahead of everyone.
The words barely leave her mouth before it happens.
A figure lunges from the underbrush, large arms snatching Tuk off her feet.
She screams, a sound so high and raw it cuts through the trees. Her legs kick wildly, tail thrashing.
âTUK!â Kiriâs voice rips through the air.
The forest erupts.
Shadows burst into motionâavatarsâtheir uniforms blending perfectly with the forest, and rifles snapping up in perfect sync. You startle, jolting up at the unfolding scene.
Loâakâs snarl splits the chaos, fangs bared as he draws a knife in one seamless motion. Spider leaps in front of Kiri, his bow drawn, hiss slicing through the air.
The four of you fall into instinctive formationâa broken half-circle around Kiri. Spider crouches low in front of her, with you and Loâak on the flanks. Every muscle in you coils, hearts pounding.
Your own bow is up before your mind catches up. The string bites into your fingers, bow drawn taut, breath ragged in heaving breaths.
The Recom holding Tuk drags her closer, shifting his armored bulk behind her small frame. Her eyes are wideâand terrified. His grip tightens until she whimpers.
"Put it down!"
Your voice shakes with fury, but you force the words through gritted teeth. âLonu!â (release her; let go)
A rifle clicks. The Recom beside the one holding Tuk has his barrel leveled squarely at you. âPut it down, or Iâll shoot you!â
There are at least three of them pointing their rifles at Lo'ak. His eyes flit around the forest apprehensively, before his ears flatten against his head, and he decides to drop his bow in surrender.
He turns to the blonde beside him, ears still flat with a wary expression on his face. "Spider. Ting tseng." (put it down)
Lo'ak's gaze goes past Spider to find you next, giving you the same look, as if his eyes are warning you. You could see it.
He watches you with an intensity that speaks of his fear for your safety.
"Put your hands up!" The voice cracks like a whip.
Spider glares once more, before reluctantly giving up his position too. He lets the tension bleed from his drawn bow, and finally throws it into the ground, thudding into the thicket.
As soon as Spider surrenders, the recoms disperse.
But you?
Your fingers refuse to move.
You step back, your aim jumping between each of them, unsure who to point at. There's too many of them, and theyâre grabbing each of your friends by their kuru and shoving them to their knees.
You stare at your own bow, fingers stiff around the smooth wood. Every lesson from Neteyam echoes in your mindâNever let go. Not unless you must.
But you see the rifle pressed to Loâakâs head.
âPut it down or I will shoot!â
You realize heâs threatening you with harming Loâak, and fear surges through your body.
You hiss in anger, and more than anything, defeat.
Your nose scrunches, heart hammering like war drums. Then, slowlyâtoo slowlyâyou unclench your fingers, and the bow slips from your hands, landing in the dirt beside Spiderâs.
Your surrender is quickly followed by the cold muzzle of a rifle pressing into the small of your back, forcing you down to your knees in the dirt.
Rough hands seize your braid, closing like iron around it; he yanks your head back, your kuru pulled taut as if to remind you how little you are. Pain sparks bright at the base of your skull. The humiliation burns hotter than fear; and you bite back a sound, chest heaving.
âY/N! Kiri!â Tuk is crying, thrashing in the grip of the recom.
Kiri whispers to her in low, soothing tones, though her hands are trembling.
Around you, everyoneâs breathing is loud, shallow, terrified. Spider twists in their grip, still hissing, still refusing to bow his head.
âStop fighting! Donât move!â One of them demands.
More Recoms emerge from the brushâboots crunching, and the one gripping Kiri twists her arm, yanking her forward by the wrist. She cries out, knees scraping against the thicket.
He studies it for a moment. âColonel, check this out."
He holds it up forâwho you assume is their leaderâto see, and then the avatar steps through the trees.
"We got ourselves a half-breed.â
Leaves rustle, boots crunching against the ground.
The new arrival moves with the easy confidence of someone used to commanding fear. When he steps into sight, you think you recognize something about himâbroad-shouldered, wearing the kind of grin thatâs more threat than humor.
He stops before Kiri.
His gaze narrows on her face, eyes flicking between her and the trembling hand in the Recomâs grip. Then he grabs her chin, forcing her to look up.
For a split second, the expression on his face faltersâsomething like recognition, maybe disbelief.
âYou look a lot like somebody I used to know,â he says, the corners of his mouth curling. âWe didnât get along.â
Kiri winces, a sharp sound escaping her throat as the Recom behind her twists her arm again. Her audible pain hits your chest like a punch.
âLeave her alone!â you shout, the words bursting out before you can think.
Quaritchâs head jerks toward you, surprise flickering across his face. âAnd so they speak... English.â
âI said, leave her alone.â You ignore his question entirely, the words coming out low and dangerous, fangs bared in defiance.
He studies you, then crouches until youâre eye level. âOr what, cupcake? You gonna shoot me? With an arrow?"
Laughter echoes through the branches.
You meet his gaze without blinking. The air between you feels electric, thick with the smell of sweat and dirt.
âOr youâre gonna regret it.â
Something in your tone makes him pause. Maybe itâs the way your jaw setsâstubborn, and unflinching. The flash of anger in your eyes. The way you look at him like youâre not afraid.
And thenâhe sees it.
His head tilts, and his grin widensâunsettling in a way that nearly makes you wish you should have thought twice before throwing baleful words at him.
âWell, Iâll be damned...â He laughs, a low, rasping sound. âYou Trudyâs kid?â
The name hits like a stone to the chest. You knew something about him seemed all too familiar.
Quaritch?
But, how is it possible?
He straightens, giving you a slow once-over, taking in your stance, your defiant eyes, the shape of your mouth as you fight to stay calm.
âYeah,â he mutters, maybe to himself.
âYou got her look. The attitude. The bad instincts.â His smirk sharpens into something cruel. âYouâre hers alright.â
Then his voice drops, cold and venomous. âAnd you got her stupidity. Itâs what got her killed.â
His words detonate inside you.
Every rational thought you have disappears. All that's left is the primal impulseâthe pure, unthinking surge of fury.
Your body surges forward, and your forehead smashes against his face.
CRACK.
A burst of pain radiates through your skull, and Quaritch staggers back, blood spilling from his nose.
For a heartbeat, the entire forest seems to freeze.
Then his snarl splits the air. âYouâre gonna pay for that, kid. Just like your mama did.â
He yanks a knife from his belt, cold steel flashing as he presses it against your throat.
Quaritchâs gaze flicks between the twoâfirst Spider, then Loâak. His mouth twisting into a mocking grin.
âI got little Augustine and ChacĂłn hereâa handful of half-breeds.â He jerks his chin toward Loâak next. âShow me your fingers.â
Loâak doesn't hesitate. With deliberate insolence, he raises both fistsâmiddle fingers extended.
Itâs brave, stupid. Kiri tenses beside him, her tail flicking wild with anxiety she has no way to release. Spider squirms in a recomâs grip, teeth bared, but even his defiance feels hollow now.
Quaritchâs grin fades. He grabs Loâak by his kuru, yanking him upward until theyâre face to face.
Loâak hisses, the sound feral with his teeth bared.
Loâakâs nostrils flare, his jaw set. âSorry,â he says in perfect Naâvi, âI donât speak English to buttholes.â
Quaritchâs hand snaps forward, fingers locking around Loâakâs queue. He yanksâhard.
Loâakâs cry rips out before he can swallow it down.
Your stomach lurchesâand instinct flares, bitter and hot, urging you forward before your mind can catch up. Only the sharp tug on your kuru reminds you of your helpless situation.
Still, you hate that sound, hate the way Lo'ak's body jerks under Quaritch's grip. Hate feeling useless while pain flashes across Lo'ak's face and there's nothing you can do without putting yourself at riskâor worseârisking any one of them.
âMake this easy. Where is your father?â
Loâakâs breath shudders, tears glinting, but he glares up at him anyway and stands his ground. He says nothing.
âThatâs how you wanna play it?â Quaritch growls.
He releases Loâak only to seize Kiri by the hair, dragging her close, the knife flashing again.
âNO!â you and Spider both shout in unison.
"Leave her alone!" Spider adds, tone desperate.
This time, Quaritch actually looks at Spiderâreally looks. The young man's wide eyes, his human face among the Naâvi. Something flickers behind his placid expressionâcuriosity, and... recognition.
He tilts his head, eyes narrowing as he speaks to Spider. But by this point, you've tuned out of the conversation.
Your chest is like a drumbeat. Too loud. Too fast. You know what comes nextâQuaritch leans harder, someone gets hurt, maybe killed, before Jake or Neytiri can even find you.
You canât fight them. Not head-on. You know that.
But when your gaze skitters upwardâpast the blue figures in uniform, past the circle of riflesâyou see something that gives you a small window of hope.
Past the Recomâs shadow, past the red scope lights, your eyes focus on a massive tree bole that sags overhead, thick with strangler vinesâold, heavy, waiting.
The broken tree.
One perfect shot could cut right through the vines. You take another good look, trying not to give away too muchâits vines are the only thing keeping it from crashing down. The recoms donât even notice; too focused on the captives at their feet, particularly Spider at the moment.
Your heart lurches at the idea.
That tree would crush them. Not all, but enough. Enough to make a gap. Enough to give you a chance.
Itâs a terrible idea, it's recklessâyou know that. You have absolutely no freedom. No time. No shot. Not even a bow or arrow in your grasp. But itâs the only one you have.
You need to warn Lo'ak. If the branch is gonna hurt any one of you, it'll take him first where he's kneeled.
Almost as if hearing your thoughts, Lo'ak meets your eyes. Your gaze jumps to the trunk above, and he follows your line of visionâup to the limb, then back down to the bow inches away. He catches your entire crazy plan, and his jaw tightens; he gives you the smallest shake of his head, barely a protest you could miss if you werenât watching.
The plea in his eyes are unhidden: Donât.
Your options feel cruelly simple: you could try and get ahold of your bow and arrow, or sit and wait for helpâwait for someone to get hurt, possibly killed.
You are not willing to take that chance. You don't doubt Quaritch's capability of harm, given his merciless history.
He killed your mother, murdered dozensâchildren includedâand destroyed Hometree.
He's shown you in the few minutes you've spent in his presence that he will not hesitate to get answers. Whatever it takes.
Quaritchâs voice is sharper nowâand he's back at Loâak's side, who's refusing again.
Your heart begins to hammer in your chest. He'd already made his way around the group, and he seemed set on getting his answers from Lo'ak, who didn't look like he was gonna give in.
You couldn't bare the thought of something happening to Lo'ak, or to anyone for that matter.
You don't think anymore.
You suck in a slow, deep breath.
Thenâ
You drive your elbow back with all the strength you have, sharpâright into the Recomâs groin. He grunts, grip faltering just slightly, but it's enough.
Instinct roars louder than thoughtâyou twist, dropping low, hand shooting forward to snatch the bow youâd dropped at your feet.
The Recomâs hand claws for you, but you're already rising, bow drawn, aim snapping skyward.
For one dizzying heartbeat, the circle freezes.
The world narrows to wood, string, and breath.
Quaritchâs head jerks, Loâak waits in anticipation, and Kiri stares in disbelief.
You loose.
The arrow hisses into the canopy.
The tree shudders, shadows tilting over the clearing; the vines holding the branch snap like bowstrings, with a groan that seems to split the forest itself. You donât breathe as the trunk finally gives way.
âRun!â you scream, voice breaking. You stagger back, clutching the bow with a tight grip.
Quaritch bellows in anger, slashing his knife at you. You stumble back then, and the Recoms barely have time to shout beforeâwhat seems like a never-ending jumble of limb and vinesâcome hurtling down.
Lo'ak digs his fangs into the arm of the recom to fully break free, and barely moves away in time.
The forest erupts into tumult as the circle fractures instantlyâLoâak pulling you up off the ground and shoving Tuk ahead, Kiri scrambling on all fours, Spider slipping free in the confusion.
The trunks slams down with a deafening, earth-shaking crack, smothering the circle in chaos.
Dirt explodes, and three recoms vanish under the weight, another flung aside by the impact. Guns scatter, shouts turning to screams and chaos.
The forest that trapped you now opens like a door, and suddenly everyone is sprinting into the undergrowth, the air alive with falling branches and open gunfire.
"Don't let them get away!" You hear Quaritch demand.
Through the thunder of falling debris, you scurry through the forest.
"You're fucking crazy, Spellman!" Lo'ak shouts through the chaos of it all, glancing at you over his shoulder.
"Less talking, more running!" You shout, pushing Tuk ahead of him.
Then, arrows burst past you from the forest.
You hear her call sign first.
Neytiri.
She appears fierce and blazing; her weaponry slicing through the dust clouds and rain so that you can escape without the recoms chasing after youâhunting you.
You spot Neteyam from a distance a minute later, breathless, fully unaware of his disobedience to his fatherâs command to stay back.
From afar, he looses an arrow, cutting into a recom that nearly takes out Neytiri.
That was too close. You nearly thought it was over.
Then you notice a recom burst through the depth of the rainy forest, one massive arm swinging at Neteyam. His grunt rips through the trees as the blow sends him sprawling into the mud, his bow skittering from his hand.
Still sprinting, fear clams downâyour chest too tight, your strides hastening; you steer in his direction instead.
Neteyam is down, unsheathing his knife from his chest bandâthe only next weapon he has available on him.
But the recom soldier grabs him, raising his gun, ready to shoot.
Before thought could return, you're close enough now that you lunge yourself at the recom, dagger unsheathed, and slam it into the back of his neck. The three of you land with a thud in the damp soil.
Neteyam rolls free, eyes wide as he scrambles up.
âCome on!â His hand wraps around your arm, hauling you upright, as open gunfire only seems to amplify.
You grab his bow and arrows jsut in time.
The world narrows to his grip, his urgency, the thudding of your feet in the damp soil as you sprint together into the luminous forest. Jake joins you then, taking lead, occasionally turning back to shoot at the recoms with his gun, just enough for you and Neteyam to scurry ahead.
Branches whip your face. You hear Tuk's cries above you, ahead on one of the branches as she scampers, Loâakâs voice sharp with panic.
You're all headed in the same direction. To safety you hope; but the escape never seems to come.
You think you might make it, that somehow the impossible has actually workedâbut far behind, you hear Kiri cry out for Spider.
You turn back to look in their direction, and see Spider stumble down the height of the forest from above. You skid to a stop, heart seizing.
You watch as he crashes into the dirt.
Quaritch is there, faster than anyone. He looms out of the trees and rain, his grin sharp. He seizes Spider by the arms, slinging his limp body over his shoulder.
âNo!â The word rips raw from your throat.
Neteyam halts in his tracks hearing you cry for Spider.
Without thinking, you snatch an arrow, set it, and draw until your arms ache.
Then, you let loose.
The shaft sinks into Quaritchâs shoulder, staggering him back. He groans in pain as blood trickles down his armâbut he doesnât falter.
His eyes search the trees, following the direction of the loosed arrow, before his dark eyes catch you.
His nostrils flare, jaw tightening. You see an anger so potent you think he might come after you next. But he doesn't.
Neteyam finally catches up to join your side, and you both watch as Quaritch clasps the rope tight around his waist, and the pair lifts into the canopy.
The samsonâs floodlights sear down, and vanish into the black sky.
You stay rooted, chest heaving, the bow trembling in your grip.
The forest is silent again, except for the hiss of rain and the distant whir of engines fading into the night.
Thenâvoices; footsteps crashing through the brush.
You turn, the sound of your own breath still loud in your ears. Jake bursts through the clearing first, gun drawn, scanning the trees with wild precision. Neytiri follows, Loâak and Kiri close behind, both their faces streaked with rain droplets and fear.
âEveryone okay?â Jake barks, voice sharp but trembling with adrenaline.
His eyes move from Neteyam, to you, to the treeline Spider disappeared into.
Loâak shakes his head, panting. âWhereâs Spider?â
âThey... they took him.â Kiri lets out a strangled sob, collapsing into Neytiriâs arms.
Neytiri gathers both her daughters against her, clutching them close as if she could shield them from everything still out there. Her voice cracks with reverence, whispering, âGreat Mother, thank you. Thank you.â
You just stand there.
Not so much as grateful as Neytiri expressed to be.
The bow slips from your fingers, hitting the wet earth with a dull thud, and your knees buckle before you realize youâre kneeled on the ground.
Itâs like the air has been punched out of you. Your palms sink into the mud. Your breath comes in shallow gasps that donât feel like breathing at all.
âI missed,â you whisper.
No one hears itâexcept him.
Neteyamâs hand finds your shoulder, grounding and warm. He kneels beside you, mud splattering against his skin as he drops down to your level.
You shake your head, tears spilling hot and helpless down your face. âI missed. How could I have missed?âYour voice cracks into a broken sound, something between anger and grief.
âIf I had justâif I had hit himâSpider would stillâheâd stillââ The words crumble, jumbling into a cry.
You don't hear Neteyam call your name, it's as if the world around you has been reduced to muffled noises.
Then it hits you.
You go lightheaded for a second, followed by a trickling sensation on your abdomen. Your hand grazes it briefly.
When you lift your hand, all you see is red.
You look at Neteyam with an expression that reads realization and fatigueâhe stares back, pupils blown with panic. âYouâre hurt.â
You donât say anything. You just stare at him with terrified eyes, gaze weakening.
Then your body goes limp, a wave of drowsiness washing over you. Neteyam's strong arms are there to catch you before your body hits the ground.
"Dad! Y/N's wounded!" Neteyam shouts.
His gaze returns to you, eyes fixed in panic. "Y/N. I'm here. Keep your eyes open, yeah?"
You don't hear the words the others exchange anymore, all you see next is Neteyam's blurry face morph into blackness.
Your mind wakes before your body doesâyour memories a blur. Sound comes firstâvoices drifting in and out like waves that can't quite surface through.
âAvatars? Quaritch? How is that even possible?â
Neteyamâs voice.
âI thought the same. But it was definitely him.â Youâre still groggy from your wake, unable to process their conversation. But you hear a certainty, still bewilderment, in Loâakâs tone.
You hear shuffling beside you, and a blanket falls onto your body. âSheâs bandaged up now. Iâll go tell Norm. But you guys go home. Mom and dad must have answers.â
Itâs Kiri. Her voice goes distant, and you assume sheâs stepped out.
"I'm not leaving."
"Well, me neither. It can wait."
Haziness from the wake overpowers you.
Still, you process that your best friends are here; theyâre all hereâbut you donât hear Spider.
Thatâs when the memory hits you full force.
The flashbacks.
Or did you just wake from a nightmare?
âSpider!â Your amber eyes shoot open, and you sit up with a groanâpain emitting from your abdomen.
Neteyam and Loâak shift their attention to you, both joining you at either side.
âWhere is he? Is he okay?â You glance up at Loâak to meet his eyes.
He looks away, ears foldingâa wave of what looks like guilt washing over his expression.
Your shoulders slump, and dread washes over you.
You know Loâak like the back of your hand; his expression alone is all it takes for you to understand.
Stillâdesperate, you turn to Neteyam next, hopeful that youâre misunderstanding.
Because it canât be, right? Because Quaritch isnât real. He canât be. This is all one terrible, horrifying nightmare.
âHe is okay, right âTey?â
Neteyam reaches for your hand first, and when you look down, thatâs when you see it. A bandage wrapped around your abdomen, just above where the blanket covers you.
Your face falls, the flashbacks spinning through your head.
Neteyam squeezes your hand, garnering your attention, and you finally meet his gaze.
His eyes jump between yours, as if cautiously deciding the right approach to say his next words. But you donât give him time to.
His gaze alone says it all, and he knows you know when your expression faltersâlips quivering, tears welling. You pull away from his hand to cover your mouth.
The muscles of your lips pull into a frown, and your face contorts before letting out an ugly sob into your hands. âNo, no, no.â
Loâak steps out of the healing maruiâears flat, gaze on the groundâbefore you can cry uglier than you already are.
Neteyam pulls you into an embrace, his arms wrapping around you.
You sob into his chest, your body lurching forward with each sob. âI was supposed to be better than this! This is all my fault.â
You sob between breaths.
Neteyam doesnât try to shush you. He just pulls you closer, strong arms circling around you until your forehead presses against his chest. His heart beats steady against your ear.
âThis is not your fault, you hear me?â He says firmly, finally taking hold of your tear-streaked face in his hands.
âI fucking missed, âTey!â You donât mean to push him away, but you do, so forcibly that he staggers back just slightly, but itâs enough for his face to fall.
Your heart breaks, but he doesnât blame you. You see it in his expression.
The exertion of it makes an ache blossom in your abdomen. Your face contorts in pain, hands pressing on the wound. âDonât you understand, Neteyam? No other warrior would have missed that shot.â
You can barely get your words out without feeling breathless, and weak. Almost fragile.
âHey,â he murmurs, voice low and rough, slowly reaching your side again. âYou did everything you could. This is not on you.â
He carefully reaches for your face, thumb wiping at the tears slipping down your cheeks.
You want to believe him. You want to drown in that steadiness, in the warmth of him, but all you can see is the moment the arrow struck wrongâall you can hear is the whirring of engines going distant as they took Spider.
âYou saved everyone else." He's still holding your face, and his own expression falters with what looks like raw fear. "I don't know what I would have done if something happened to you."
The crack in his voice is enough to undo you. Because you can't imagine ever being apart from him either. The mere thought of it is agonizing.
This life is too unpredictable to wait, you realize.
You hear Jake and Neytiriâs voices swirl in disagreement not too far from the marui you rest in. Neteyamâs tail swishes briefly.
You canât make out their words, but their voices go back and forth.
Neteyamâs ears flatten picking up on their tones.
âGo. Iâll be fine,â you urge. Itâs whatâs he wants to doâand you know it.
Neteyam pauses at the edge of where you lay, hand resting on your arm.
For a moment, you're struck with a sudden, unreasonable desireâfor him to stay by your sideârooted by fear that once he leaves something that can't be fixed will break. It seems ridiculousâyou know thatâbut you don't want him to leave, despite telling him to.
He smiles warmly at you, then turns away to step out the marui. You reach out before you can think better of it, fingers closing around his wrist.
"Neteyam," you say softly.
He turns back immediately, concern etched deep into his face.
There it is.
One of the things you love about him. Admire. One of the things you admire about himâEywa, who are you trying to kid? You love him.
No more lying to anyone, especially not to yourself about it.
"What is it? Are you hurting again?" The look he gives youâthe way his eyes search your face for a sign of pain, the concern in his tone.
You love how he cares so deeply, it couldnât beat the depths of Pandoraâs oceans. He's always made you feel looked after, and safe, and loved.
You know now, right in this moment, that it isn't just you.
You shake your head, and your grip tightens instead. "Will you stay with me tonight?"
Your round eyes dilate with hope. The question comes out quieter than you mean it toâbarely more than a breath. Not a demand, not an expectation, just a need.
For a heartbeat, you think you've asked too much. That he'll apologize in that kind, gentle voice, reminding you of his duties in the morning.
But his expression softens completely. Like it's you who makes his resolve falter.
"Yes," he says without hesitation. "Of course."
Relief floods your chest so suddenly you exhale a breath you didn't realize you were holding.
âWeâll talk later, okay?â He looks at you like he's resisting the urge to say, or do something. But all he says is, âRest up.â Then walks out of the marui.
Later, he settles beside you carefully, mindful of your injury.
The marui grows quiet around you, the sounds of the village settling for the day pressing in softly.
At first, there's no space between youârespectful, mindful.
Youâre the one who closes it.
You shift, still half asleep, inching closer, shoulder brushing his arm. Then you curl into him like itâs instinct. He stiffens for half a second, then exhales and lets himself relax.
Slowly, tentatively, his arm comes around youâwarm and solid. Protective.
Your head finds its place beneath his chin. And at first, you think your drowsiness is pushing you to act too impulsively. Like this may be too much. But his other hand settles at your back, thumb brushing small, absentminded circles like he's been doing it his entire life.
You fit. Almost perfectly.
His breathing evens out, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the steady strength of him anchoring you to the presentâa precious moment you wouldn't trade for anything else.
And that's when the fear settles deeply in your stomach again. The fear of unpredictibiityâhow a moment like this can vanish in a heartbeat.
"'Tey..."
He glances down at you, shifting underneath your weight to fix himself to a semi-sitting position. "What's wrong?"
You're staring at him now, eyes tracing his facial featuresâand the beauty he offers you. His amber eyes, the glowing freckles that rest on his gorgeous face, and the way his braids frame his visage perfectly.
Your jaw clenches, hesitant, and you look away for a moment. He waits patiently, in that attentive way he's always known.
When you look at him again, you don't think. Your hands reach up to his face, gently cupping his cheek, thumbs slowly brushing lines you know all too well.
When he doesn't shift or pull away, you swallow and take a deep breath.
Your gaze flicks from his eyes to his lips, your heart pounding like it's trying to escape your chest. "'I..." You don't know exactly where you're going with this. Or what exactly you're trying to say. "I think..."
"Y/N," he interrupts softly.
His fingers gently wrap around your wrist, still leaning into your touch. That's a good thing, right?
"You should rest... how about we talk tomorrow morning?"
You blink, trying to read his expression. But there's nothing for you to decipher; whatever he's thinking or feeling he's schooled away, a skill he's mastered over timeâand in moments like this, you hated it.
"Hm?" He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Tomorrow at sunrise. I'll take you to the sanctuary."
The sparkle of hope in his amber eyes prompts you to send a smile his wayâa quiet agreement.
"Come here," he says, pulling you into his chest again. After a couple minutes, exhaustion wins. His warmth, his presence, the way he holds you like he's afraid you'll slip awayâit lulls you into a deep, peaceful sleep.
The sanctuary greets you the same way it always has. With soft chirps and distant caws, filtered sunlight breaking through the canopy above in long, golden beams, untouched by yesterdayâs horrorsâunchanged and eternal.
That almost makes it worse.
You and Neteyam sit together where you always have as children, across the clear body of water, traced by those golden, sun-lit blossoms you grew up admiring.
Your legs brush, knees nearly touching, and the air hums with familiarity, memory layered over memory, a safe space that holds many promises shared over the years.
"I almost feel guilty sitting comfortably in such a pretty place, after yesterday," you admit quietly. "After Spider..." you trail off, and swallow, unable to finish.
You sniffle and blink back the already forming tears. âIâm sorry.â Your eyes meet his steady ones.
He shakes his head, as if saying youâre not to blame, his gaze jumps back and forth between yours, studying you.
Then his hand reaches up to cradle your face, in such a gentle way that it calms you instantly. âNo,â he whispers, tone sure and comfortingâtelling you itâs okay to not be okay. Itâs okay for you to be like this with him.
You see that familiar flicker in his eyes. Like heâs resisting the urge to say or do something, fighting against his willpower. But he doesnât.
As if breaking from a trance, his hand falls from your face, and he leans back.
You swallow, trying to muster up the courage about what you wantedâneededâto say last night.
Neteyam sits quietly beside you, and he shifts... almost uncomfortably.
Then he stares like heâs afraid to blinkâas if heâs committing you to memory, cataloguing every detail of your face. The slope of your nose. The way your lashes catch the light. The faint tremor in your mouth.
Your heart swells when you meet his eyes again.
His voice comes out low, and careful. "I⊠need to talk to you about something."
"Me too, 'Tey," you perk up, ears standing tall, hope sparking quickly, reckless and bright.
You reach for his hands, warm and familiar, tugging gently until you both rise to your feet.
âNo,â he says, a little too quickly.
"'Tey, please let me talk first. After yesterday, I realized how quickly everything can be taken," you swallow back the fear, and memories of yesterday, his eyes steadying you. "And for a long time... I've felt safe around you. You've made me feel safe."
His breath stillsâexpression faltering just ever so slightly, you nearly miss it. He reins it in. âY/N, listenââ
"It's you who's always seen me, and welcomed me, and accepted me for who I am. No matter what form I took on. Even when everyone looked at me or treated me differently. You gave me confidence, and made me feel like I could do anythingâlike I could catch all the stars in the night skyâso long as I have you by my side."
His gaze softens, something else flickering beneath the surface.
"You're my favorite person, and my best friend, and I can't imagine not being with youâand Iâ"
You shake your head, at a loss for words. You donât think any words can describe how you feel about him.
You don't thinkâall it takes is one glance-over of his lips for you to kiss himâinstinctive and impulsive.
Your lips crashâemotion finally overruling reason, fear and love colliding both at once.
âŠand he doesn't pull away.
His lips are softâwarmâwhen they meet yours, the way you always imagined them to be. They click together into place so seamlessly it steals your breath.
His hands come up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks as if steadying himself, lips pressing together perfectly, passionately.
The kiss turns slow, like heâs taking every second to memorize the way your lips taste and feel against his.
His hands slide down slowly from your face to your waist, drawing you closer so that your bodies press together, and your arms wrap around his neck.
For one impossible moment, it feels right.
It takes everything in you to pull back, hands still looped around his shoulders, forehead nearly touching his.
"I've loved you for a long time. I think... I've always loved you,â you admit.
Hope blooms in your chestâfragile and radiant.
For one split moment, he looks dazed.
A moment too good to be true, because Neteyam's expression doesn't quite reciprocate yours. Something shutters behind his eyes, and the warmth doesn't fully return.
"What's wrong?"
He untangles your arms looped around his neck, and takes a step back. "I have to go."
Your heart stutters. "W-what?"
"I mean, my family. We're leaving." His jaw tightens. "The forest."
"Wait. What? Why?" Your fingers cling to his arm now. "What are you talking about?"
He explains, voice measured, like heâs reciting something he thought about all night.
You think he may have. Curiosity creeps in next. How long has he known this?
"When?" you ask, barely breathing.
"After sunrise. After the clan wakes."
âToday?â
You didnât expect so soon.
He nods, eyes never leaving yours.
You don't hesitate, you grab his hand. "Then, I'm going with you."
"No." He says it fast, too firm. "You can't."
"Don't be ridiculous, Neteyam. Of course I'll go with you."
"I'm not asking you to come with me, Y/N."
You startle, the words stinging.
"Well, why not?" Your voice cracks, despite yourself.
"I want to be with you. Surely you didn't miss everything I just said."
But he doesnât say anything.
You search his face, hopeful and open. "Well, you feel the same way, don't you?"
Obviously. He kissed you back. That tells you everything.
But his silence is deafening.
The light of hope dissipates from your bright eyes, and your smile collapses slowlyâheart dropping hard, and pounding so loudly it drowns out the sounds of the forest.
You step closer to him, a little more desperate now. âNeteyam?"
"Before I say anything else, I need you to have this."
From his pouch, he pulls out the dandelion pendant he gifted you when you were kids. You could have sworn you'd forgotten it on your human form, so you're unsure when he took the time to grab it. But that's not the question you want the answer to right now.
"Neteyam?" you demand again.
He takes a step towards you, necklace in his hands.
When he meets your gaze, you see something flicker behind his eyes. Something like... dread.
He slips the pendant over your head, hands moving slowly... reluctantly. Like he's afraid this moment will slip through too quickly.
"What are you doing?" Your eyes search his face impatiently. But he doesn't say anything.
Then he takes a deep breath.
Like he's bracing for impact.
"This isn't going to work, Y/N."
Your heart sinks.
Then you ask the first question that pops to your head, without thinking.
"Was it the kiss?"
It was a stupid question, you know it. But you couldn't help the thought. It was your first kiss.
You thought it'd been wonderful. Perfect, even.
But his lack of reciprocity made you insecure. Which is an unusual feeling for you to harbor around Neteyam. He's always made you feel so confident in everything you do.
But now right now.
He doesn't answer your question. Instead he says, lowly, heartbreakingly, âWe canât be together. You know this, right?â
You startle, blinking.
Because, you always had the impression that you would be.
And to be devastatingly honest with yourself, you couldnât imagine it any other way.
For a moment, you think you stop breathing. But denial crashes over you first. âOf course we can, 'Tey. Where is this coming from?â
He stays quiet, gaze softening.
"Was it Neytiri? Did she say something to you?" You sound a little wounded.
He turns away, unable to look at you.
You see his head hang for a second, but canât see his expressionâhis back facing you. âMy life is not safe.â
âThen, I'll fight⊠That doesnât matter to me. I'll choose you anyway.â
âYou could have died yesterday. You think that was the worst of it?â
You frown, shaking your head. âI am not weak.â
âWhere we are going⊠it will be worse.â
âThen I will learn. I'll be stronger.â
He finally faces you again, and steps forward, grabbing your shouldersânot violently, but firmly. Desperate.
âThis is not about strength, Spellman."
Confusion settles on your features.
âYou are not Naâvi.â
You blink slowly, disbelief transforming your expression. Time freezes completelyâneither of you saying anything.
There's a tiltâslow and nauseating, like the ground has quietly decided it will no longer hold you.
Your ears ring, and the forest blurs at the edges, colors smearing together until everything looks unreal, like a place you're no longer allowed to stand in. Your chest feels hollow and too full at once, like your heart has dropped somewhere it can't be reached.
You are not Naâvi.
His words echo, over and over, cruel in their simplicity.
No sharp edge to blame. No misunderstanding to cling to. Just a truth spoken carefully, gentlyâlike that should somehow make it hurt less.
But it doesn't.
Your chest tightens, breaths shallow and sharp now.Â
âYou wear our skin, and speak our words. But you were not born to this. You know this.â
You think back to all the times you'd failed. Every mistake. Every rescue. Every moment he had to pull you back from the edge of death.
Even in your avatar form you failed.
You missed the shot. You failed Spider.
Sadness paints your expression, because heâs right. You do know this. You've tried so hard, all these years to escape it. But deep down, you've always known it.
Your heart can't help but wonder, and your voice trembles. âAnd⊠the kiss?â
He hesitates for a second.
"It meant nothing that would last. We both know this⊠It was a mistake.â
Your mind scrambles, desperate, rewinding moments like they might rearrange themselves if you look hard enough.
The way he laughs with you when no one else is around. The way his hand always finds yours without thinking. The way he kissed you back like it meant somethingâlike you meant something. Like heâd waited years for that kiss.Â
You feel stupid. Naive. Embarrassed in a way that burns all the way down to your core.
Your eyes sting.
Your throat tightens, swallowing around words you don't trust yourself to say. If you open your mouth, something humiliating might spill outâbegging, pleading, asking him to take his words back.
Your heart latches onto the smallest possibility that this can't be right.
Your chest tightens as hope twists into something desperate and sharp.
You step closer without thinking about it, like proximity alone might fix this, because being near him has always made things right before.
âYou⊠mean all of that?" Your voice fractures despite your effort to steady it. "What we have is real. Do you truly believe this was a mistake?â
For a secondâjust a secondâyou search his face for hesitation. For regret. For anything you can hold onto.
But there is none.
And the pang of grief hits you just thinking about how long he might have had these thoughts. If any of it ever was realâgenuine. Sincere.
He turns away first.
Then his jaw tightens. âIt was something we let ourselves believe, Y/N.â
The words land heavy, like someone just punched the air out of you. The way he said it, tone soft and so sureâthat's what makes this all the more unbearable.
He faces you again, eyes steady on your broken ones.
"You will always be between worlds," he continues, softly. "But I will no longer keep trying to convince myself that it does not matter. Not anymore.â
Tears spill freely now, hot and humiliating against your cheeks.Â
All the promises youâd made. To never jump into danger. The promise he made to wait for you to catch up to him in the sky.
That he would always come back to you.
And the entire time... he was silently, subconsciously, struggling to believe in you. Believe in this.
Now you see it differently. Maybe you were the only one who believed it was forever.
Your throat burns.
All this time, you were trying so hard to become something that belonged.
You changed your body, and changed your life. You changed everything.
And it still wasn't enough.
The forest feels bigger nowâcolder. Empty. Devoid of those promises now.
You swallow around the ache clawing up your chest. The only sound in the morning air is your uneven breathing.
Your next words come out steady, despite yourself. "I understand."
You donât.
But you will not beg. You will not make him say it again. Because heâs made it very clear.
And so you nod onceâsmall, and composedâas if he has just explained something reasonable.
Then you turn away, heart shatteringâtears slipping silently. And you walk the other way with the quiet, unbearable certainty that you were never truly wanted.
Neteyam stands there, rigid, until you're out of sight, waiting until you're finally gone.
Because if you turned back... he'd take it all back.
He'd wrap you in his arms, and hold you, and wipe the tears off your pretty face, and tell you just how much he truly loves you.
That none of this was true, and it destroyed him, and took every ounce of strength within him, to say to you. That itâs unbearable for him to accept that he spent his entire life guarding you, only to betray you himself.
That this was the only way.
But you don't turn back. You've disappeared beyond the trees.
And for the first time in his eighteen years of life in Pandora, Neteyam collapses to his knees in the place he once promised you forever, the only soundâhis breath trembling against his hands as they press over his faceâdefeated, shattered and unseen.
He said that you would always be between two worlds.
But it is him who will spend the rest of his life grieving the one he left behind.
thx for reading!!! ... hope you enjoyed the angst.
i know the ending seems a little unfair, but that's how the movie played out! war is unfair! displacement is unfair! but what happens to them is a part of the unfairness that war brings to indigenous, who the na'vi very clearly mirror. and i tried to depict that. this series was inspired entirely by this one second-shot of neteyam in the movie. i thought, what is he leaving behind? maybe not just a forest, not just a clan, not just a childhood, but a future that never got the chance to happen.
war displaces, war interrupts, war leaves things unfinished. and sometimes... unfinished love is one of those casualities.
now, when you see this in the movie, i hope you remember it. that i gave his glance weight. gave it reason, and that i've filled the silence behind it.
Shane and Ilya's first meeting should be studied in a class of chaos theory.
Ilya Rozanov all of seventeen yrs old stands in an alley just trying to take a smoke and sees this other seventeen yr old boy approach him and introduce himself, politely compliment him, shake hands with him twice in all his awkwardness, and- with the perceptiveness of someone twice his age- figures out instantly that this awkward guy is into him, checks him out- top to bottom- and goes, "hmm. Cute. Freckles. Nice ass. Okay, I'll hit that." And it is the most destructively insane, massive, life altering, world rocking decision he's ever made.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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synopsis: fem! sully!reader witnesses her little brother nearly off himself. angry and betrayed, she confronts their dad.
word count: 3.8k
content warning(s): angst/comfort(?), unresolved grief, mention and depictions of suicide, brief use of y/n
âLoâak! LOâAK! Please, Eywa, no!â
Your cries waver from a distance, pupils blown with panic, legs pushing you forward with nothing but a fear so grand you think you might pass out.
But you don't.
Because the adrenaline running through your veinsâthe determination to stop your baby brother from pulling the trigger on the gun he has pointed at his headâis far stronger than fear right now.
Lo'ak doesn't waver.
You try again. "LO'AK! Please, stop!"
Your voice, holding so much desperation, comes out like a sob now, incoherent and weak.
You can't bear the thought of losing another brother.
Not so soon.
Not this way.
Not at all.
Youâre the responsible one now. Neteyam was always the guardianâa protector. Your protector.
He never hesitated. Never chose himself first.
And thatâs what got him killed.
It sounds awful to think. But not in the way it seems. He didnât die because he was reckless. He died because he was brave. Because he loved too much to step back.
He was selfless, courageous⊠and irreplaceable.
Now the weight shifts.
Choices you didnât have to make before now sit heavily on your shoulders. You donât seem to understand how Neteyam did it his entire life. Being the second eldest was never supposed to feel like thisâlike stepping into a space no one can fill.
But you try anyway.
For them.
The tears are hot and fast, spilling down your cheeks as you push forward desperatelyâthe path to your brother seemingly endless, muscles aching with every stride.
You hear Kiri and Tsireya also calling to him from the opposite side, but they're too far.
Despite all the cries for him, Loâak doesn't falter in his position.
Still sprinting, you watch in horror as his finger moves ready to press down on the trigger.
He screamsâangry, desperate, heartbrokenâinto the air of the starlit sky of Pandora.
You're so close.
You think you might be too late, seeing his grip on the gun tighten one last time.
Thenâ
He tosses it away with so much force, you think it may go off from the impact alone.
You reach his side just in time as he falters.
"Lo'ak!"
You take ahold of his face in your hands, tears damp on your cheeks.
âWhat the hell were you thinking!?â You scream.
But youâre not angry.
He looks you in the eyes and knows it instantly.
He doesnât say anything.
âDon't you ever do that again, do you hear me?" You demand, finally pulling him into your arms. His sniffles are soft against your chest. Then he brokenly says, "It was my fault."
You grab his shoulders, pulling him back to observe his expression, startled. "What?"
"Neteyam," he whimpers.
The name alone is enough to break him. He's crying now, shoulders shaking with each unsteady breath.
âItâs my fault heâŠâ He canât finish the sentence, small sniffles leaving him.
Kiri and Tsireya finally reach you both.
âWhat happened to Neteyam is not your fault,â you say softly, eyes searching his.
âYeah?â He finally looks up at you through damp lashes. âTell that to Dad.â
âLoâak.â Tsireyaâs gaze softens, reaching for his hand.
âLoâ⊠Dad does not think that. You can't put those thoughts in your head.â You reassure, hoping your words console him.
âWe need you here, brother.â Is all your younger sister says to him.
Loâak only shakes his head, then receives a a small group hug from both Kiri and Tsireya.
Later that night, youâre walking back home, side by side with Loâakâthe only sound filling your ears are the waves crashing on the shoreline.
Heâd spent most of the night with Tsireya by the water. Only now, he wanted to walk back home with you in company.
Youâd been with Aoânung trying to keep it together as you explained to him the events of the night. Heâd been the perfect shoulder to lean on, and a gentleman of understanding when you told him Loâak wanted to leave with you.
His gaze stays on the sand as you walk side by side quietly.
âDo you wanna talk about it?â
âIt's nothing.â
You scoff. âPlease. You aimed a gun at yourself tonight.â
He shakes his head.
Your voice softens. âCome on, Loâ. Youâve always been able to talk to me.â
He turns to you and something flickers behind his eyes. Itâs like his mind stills for a moment.
âI have to live with this everyday, Y/N.â
Your ears flatten with just one glance over his expression. âI⊠miss him too, Lo'. So much.â Your voice canât help but quiver at the end. The grief is still so potent, heavy... new.
âThatâs not what I mean.â
Confusion settles on your face. âThen, what?â
He takes a deep breath, as if to brace for impact. âThe fact... that I killed my brother. It was me. If I hadnât disobeyed Dadâs ordersââ
âLoâak, stopââ
âNo, you stop!â He halts in his tracks, suddenly frustrated. âDonât you get it!?â
His eyes flicker with guilt, tears brimming. Saying he looks upset is an understatementâheâs angry now. But not seemingly at you.
âI ruin everything! It was my fault!â
It shatters you that the thought even crosses his mind.
But you do understand the validity of his thought process. Loâak and Spider were the last two people to be with Neteyam. You get it.
Still, the thought doesnât lessen the ache in your stomach at the conclusion heâs reached.
âLoâak, don't that. Itâs not true. You cannot do this to yourself.â
âYeah? Well, Dad thinks it is.â
You look at him, startled. âWhat?â
Then your voice lowers to a whisper, incredulous. âHow could you possibly think that?â
âHe said it! To my face! After the clan's council gathering...â His voice softens then, âAfter they banished Payakan.â
Disbelief slowly transforms your face. âHe⊠he blamed you?â
You could not seem to understand, you could not wrap your mind around it.
Loâak nods, tears spilling now. Like he was reliving it all over again.
Then, you feel a surge of fury, and stabbing heartacheâa sense of betrayalâall at once, as you and Loâak near your familyâs marui.
You stop and he follows. Then you turn to him, and gently take his face in your hands. âWhat happened to Neteyam,â you begin, brushing at the tear that slides down his face. âIs not your fault. You hear me?â
Loâak doesnât say anything. His gaze stays glued on the ocean past your shoulder.
âLo.ââ
His jaw tightens, and he finally grows the courage to look you in the eye. You see it thenâthe flicker of guilt.
He doesnât believe you.
âNeteyam would not have blamed you. He doesnât blame you.â Your voice softens, hopeful. âDonât you believe that?â
His ears twitch at the mention of your brother.
You could see the internal struggle in his expression. But he stays quiet.
Then after a moment, he says, âStill doesnât change the fact that Iâm one, big disappointment.â
You swallow, ears folding back, defeated.
You wish he could see himself the way you do. His perception has clearly been tainted. When people throw labels at you over and over again, after some timeâyou begin to believe those words.
And Loâak has fallen victim to that.
It makes your chest tighten with anger. But more than that, it shatters you.
Heâs your little brother. You watched him grow into the reckless, yes, but more than that, ambitious, little warrior heâs still evolving into. Heâs courageous, like your father isâand stands up for those he loves, despite the consequences. He gets that bravery from your mother. Loâak is so much more than he perceives himself to be.
And watching him grow up has created a soft spot for him in your heart.
It is your obligation to protect him now.
Your dadâs eyes light up when he sees you finally walk into the marui. âHey baby girl. I was starting to worry thatââ
âHow could you?â
Confusion settles on his face, then flinches like you just slapped him at the tone in your voiceâthe sound of betrayal thick in resonance. Your dad sees Loâak appear from behind you, and realization washes over his features, ears folding back.
"Leave it, Y/N." Lo'ak says dismissively in a quiet voice.
You turn to him, startled.
Leave it?
He couldn't be serious. You understand that this is for Lo'ak to deal with, and you could already hear him getting upset about how this is his business. But, evidently, that didn't matter to you.
You witnessed something horrid tonight, involving your little brother, which pretty much did make it your business.
"I will not, Lo'."
"Listenâ" Jake begins.
But you don't let him finish. âNo! I donât wanna hear it.â
âLoâak.â Your dad calls to him next.
Your younger brother canât even look at your dad, ears flat against his head, shoulders heavy with guilt and shame.
âI donât wanna talk right now, Dad.â
âPlease, son," your dad's voice cracks. "Just... listen.â
Lo'ak only shakes his head, walking out the marui once more.
"Lo'ak. Come back," you croak, a slight desperation in your voice, the memory of tonight's nightmare flooding your mind.
He ignores you and walks past your mother, whose ears flatten in confusion, only now walking into the unfolding scene.
Your fear settles slightly when you see him join Tsireya and Aoânung by the waves. He's not alone. That's all that matters. You let out a small sigh of relief.
"Ma'ite, what is wrong?" Neytiri asks gently.
"It's Dad." You say, voice rising sharply, tone accusing. Youâve never felt this way about your dad before.
Not once.
He made you proud. Every single day.
He was the kind of father other children spoke aboutâbrave, steady, unshakeable. He carried the weight of the clan on his shoulders and still somehow found room for you and your siblings.
He made sacrifices without complaint. He led without hesitation, without fear.
He fought like a warrior born of Eywa herself: Toruk Makto.
And yet, at home, he softened. The edges of him dulled in the presence of his childrenâhis five children, whom he loved more than anything else in all of Pandora.
The great leader who commanded warriors would sit cross-legged on the floor and listen to Kiri ramble about Eywa and plants and things no one else quite understood. He would wake before dawn to take Neteyam and Loâak on aerial hunts at their insistence, because they loved sky-racing their dad. Growing up, he always let them win. He would never admit it, of courseâalways blamed it on "getting old."
He would braid Tuk's hair with clumsy fingers, carefully placing every colorful bead and shell they hand-picked out together.
And when you felt insecureârejected by the other children in the clanâhe would rest his forehead against yours and remind you that your extra finger did not make you different.
It made you special.
He reminds you and your siblings that family comes firstâalways.
He is strength. He is safety.
You are always proud of him. Proud to be his daughter.
Only right now, you felt far from that.
Youâve never felt so disappointed. So betrayed by someone you trusted to protect all of youâeven from yourselves sometimes.
And the words werenât even said to you.
You couldnât imagine how Loâak mustâve felt in that moment.
How he must feel now.
Tears brim in your amber eyes, lip trembling despite your effort to steady it. You don't want to cry. You want to hold your ground. To stand in front of your little brother the way Neteyam always didâfor you, for Loâak, even for Kiri or Tuk when they pushed too far.
You wanted to be brave like him.
You need to be.
But you know youâve already lost when your father steps toward you and says softly, "Baby girl, please. Don't cry. Let meâ"
âYou have no idea what could have happened tonight!â
The tears spill anywayâhot, furious, unstoppable.
You have always been opinionated. Expressive in ways that scraped against other peopleâs comfort. You never feared disagreementâthat was the problem. Your mouth and your persistence often got you into trouble.
But trouble never lasted long.
Not with Neteyam there.
He had always stepped between you and whatever came next. A steady presence at your shoulder. A shield you never had to ask for.
Your mind tries not to dwell on the absence of that shield now.
Despite everything, you rarely raised your voice. Your stubbornness was usually quietâmeasured, and calm. Sometimes that made it worse. It unnervedâor... irritated people more than shouting ever could.
So when your voice cracks loudly through the air like this, sharp and trembling, confusion flickers across Jakeâs face.
Neytiri steps closer immediately.
"Maâwey, Y/N." Your mother's voice is soft, and groundingâthe way youâve always known. Her hands come up to cradle your face.
Only now, it's not enough to settle your anger.
You catch her wrists gentlyâbut firmlyâand lower them away from you before taking a step back from both of them.
"No. I will not calm down,â you say, quieter now, but no less fierce. âNot when I almost lost another brother tonight."
For a split second, Jake looks like heâs been struck. Panic flashes across his featuresâraw and unguarded. Then his voice drops low, edged with something dangerously fragile. âWhat?â
"All because you blamed him." Your voice shakes, but you don't stop. "You think it was his fault, Dad? You think he's the reason Neteyam was killed?"
"Y/N." Jake warns. The wound is still openâraw, sensitive.
"We need to talk about the elephant in the room!" You fire back. "We canâtâwe canât just ignore the fact that my brother died in the middle of a war, okay?â
Jakeâs expression cracks.
The leader, and warrior disappears.
âIâm sorry, Dad, but we need to talk about it,â you press, voice breaking. âDo you actually believe that because of Lo'ak... Neteyam died?â
Neytiri looks at Jake.
Your dad closes his eyes and draws in a long, controlled breathâthe kind he uses before battle. "Of course not, baby girl."
He steps toward you, hand reaching instinctivelyâbecause youâre looking at him like heâs something unrecognizable. Like heâs the enemy.
"Then why would you say that to him?!" The tears don't stop from forming.
You slap his hand away.
The sound is small, but it echoes.
And something inside him fractures at the look on your face. Youâre crying openly now. Not just angryâbut shattered.
Jake blinks hard, fighting his own tears. You look betrayed and... wounded.
He's faced down gunships without flinching.
But this?
"I was wrong," he says quietly. The words cost him. "It was a mistake."
Your voice finally softens. But youâre not sure if it was so much of a choice, or mostly because youâre fighting off a full sob sitting at the top of your throat. "Yeah?" you whisper. "Well your mistake could have cost him his life."
The next words nearly don't make it out. "He almost shot himself, Dad."
Both Jake and Neytiri's expressions startle.
Everthing stops, and their worlds seem to pause.
The crash of the waves outside feels distant now, muffledâlike you're underwater.
Jake doesn't breathe, and Neytiri goes rigid beside him.
Your Dad's breath leaves him in a sharp, broken sound. "...Heâwhat?"
You feel for your Dadâyou do. He looks like you just punched the air out of him. But you don't back down. Neteyam never did.
This is your role now.
You can almost hear his voice in your head: Be brave, tsmuke. (sister)
"He... had the gun to his head," you choke out. "I was screaming his name, Dad. Over and over. He wasn't listening.â You take a deep breath.
It's difficult for you to verbalize. Itâs like you're reliving the nightmare over again. Only it wasnât a nightmare. This happened tonight.
"Heâhe almost..."
Your mother's hand flies to her mouth.
Her knees nearly give out, tail going rigid behind her.
Your voice shatters. âHe was so close, Dad.â
"Eywa..." Neytiri whispers, voice trembling. "My son..."
Your dad stares at you like he can't quite process the words. His face drains, jaw slackens, eyes glassy in a way you haven't seen since the night of Neteyam's funeral.
âHe couldnât think that,â Jake says faintly, as if denial might rewrite reality. âLoâak wouldnâtââ
"He almost did!" you snap, the fury flaring through the grief. "Because he thinks you hate him. Because he thinks he's a disappointment. A burden. Because... you made him believe that my brother's blood is on his hands!â
Jakeâs composure finally fractures. He blinks away tears, expression cracking.
"That's notâ" He swallows hard. "That's not what I meant. I didn't mean it."
"It doesnât matter what you meant, Dad! Itâs what you said! And it's what he heard," you say, cheeks damp with tears. âThat makes all the difference. And is what could have made a huge difference tonight."
Neytiri turns fully toward Jake, eyes blazing with pain and fury both at once.
"You let him carry this alone," she says, voice shaking with restrained anger. "You let our child believe he is cursed."
"I wasâ!... I am grieving,â Jake whispers. âI was angry. I didnât know where to put it. I lost my son and Iâ"
"And you put it on him," you cut in, quieter now, but no less firm. âThat wasnât fair.â
The anger is ebbing, and you back off now. Your fatherâs heard enough, and you think, that maybe, you may have been a little too harsh on him. Whatâs left is exhaustion. And something like regret, now that your mind is less clouded with emotion.
Jake sinks down without meaning to, crouching before finally lowering himself to the ground. He looks⊠distant. Disconnected. Like part of him has stepped outside his body.
"Jesus," he breathes.
His head hangs low, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. He mutters something under his breath in Englishâtoo quiet for you to catch. But you donât need to.
You see it in him. The realization.
The great Toruk Maktoâthe fearless leader. Reduced to a father who nearly buried another child.
"I failed him," he says hoarsely.
Neytiri steps forward immediately, kneeling before him. She cups his face in both hands and forces him to look at her.
She shakes her head slowly. âWe have all made mistakes, Jake,â she says softly. âThey do not define us.â
Her voice hardensânot cruel, but resolute. âTonight, Eywa gave us mercy.â
Her golden eyes lock with his. âDo not waste it.â
Jake nods, leaning into Neytiriâs touch.
He rises slowly from where he crouched, like the weight of it all has settled into his bones, and goes to you next.
You see him more clearly againânot just the father who said the wrong thing. Not just the leader who faltered.
But the man who buried his eldest son, and nearly lost another, with his eldest daughter pointing the finger at him accusingly, and maybe a little too cruelly.
But you were angry. Loâak truly believed he deserved to dieâand it was unbearable.
You were just trying to protect him. Someone needed to. You didnât mean to hurt your dad, or see him wounded way he is now.
You truly didn't mean to.
Guess you know where you get that from.
"Iâm sorry," you blurt, the words rushing out of you before pride can stop them. You step forward and wrap your arms around him.
For a second, he doesnât move. Then his arms come around you, almost like he's trying to comfort you.
Jake pulls back just enough to catch your expression. He takes a knee to match your height, then takes your face in his hands. His thumbs brush under your eyes, catching tears as they fall.
"Hey," he murmurs. "Donât be."
Thereâs no defensiveness in his voice. No anger. Just an understanding, and a tremble of exhaustion. "Everything you saidâŠ" His jaw tightens, and he away briefly, swallowing. "You werenât wrong to say it."
Your breath stutters.
"I was scared," he admits quietly. "I keep telling myself Iâm supposed to be stronger... that I'm Toruk Makto. Iâm supposed to lead. To protect." His voice falters. "But when Neteyamâ"
He canât finish.
His throat works around the name.
âWhen I lost him,â Jake continues, voice hoarse, âI didnât know how to hold it together. I didnât know where to put all that fear.â His eyes meet yours thenâunguarded, painfully human. âSo I put it in the wrong place.â
Not blame, not cruelty. Just fear, and unresolved grief.
âI thought if I was harder on himâŠâ he exhales shakily. âIf I pushed him⊠maybe heâd survive. Maybe I wouldnât lose him too.â
The confession hangs between you.
You feel for him, and understand him now more than you did before.
âI never meant for him to carry that alone,â Jake says, voice breaking again. âI would rather carry it myself every day for the rest of my life than have him think for one second that I donât love him.â
You see it now.
The guilt. The terror. The self-blame.
Not a villain. Not a failure.
Just a father who is drowning in grief and fear of losing more than he already has.
He presses his forehead to yours the way he used to when you were small. You hesitate a momentâgathering something fragile, something you hadnât understood until now. You see it all now hidden behind his placid armor. The grief he doesnât know how to hold. The impossible balance between leader and fatherâand how, sometimes, one fractures the other.
âI see you, Dad,â you say quietly.
For a moment, he just looks at you.
Then his hand comes up, cupping your cheekâwarm, and steady, looking at you adoringly. His thumb brushes beneath your eye.
A moment of quiet acknowledgment lasts for a minute before he speaks again.
âI failed him,â he whispers. âBut Iâm not going to fail him again.â
You believe him. Because youâve seen who he is when it matters most. Because you know your father.
After a moment, he pulls back and stands, eyes steady now. âLoâakâŠâ he begins, voice still hoarse. âWhere is he?â
You point toward the shore.
Jake nods onceâresolute, and determined. He squeezes your shoulder before stepping past you.
âDad?â
He turns back again. Thereâs no leader in his expression now. No warrior. Just your father.
âYou didnât fail him,â you say quietly. âYouâre going to him.â
The words settle between you.
Something shifts in his faceârelief, guilt, gratitude all tangled together.
âI am so proud of you,â he says softly, eyes full of pride.
And you realize heâs been watching you too. Doing your best in also caring for himâwatching you step forward. Watching you carry more than you should have to. Watching you try to fill a space no one can truly fill.
After Neteyam, youâve been trying so hard to be strong.
He sees you.
Jake gives you one last lookâfull of love, full of promise. Then he turns and walks toward the shore. You watch him go.
Not as Toruk Makto. Not as a clan leader, or a warrior. But as a father walking toward his son. A protector. A man who broke under griefâand chooses to stand anyway.
He was never cruel, only scared.
And he loves too fiercely to let fear win twice.
đȘ this is dedicated to the people who wanted to see jakeâs reaction to hearing about loâak after we didnât get it in afaa. left the ending open to imagination, hope you enjoyed <3
taglist â @seawavesss @jjaaammwii @coconuthoneyandjaguars (aka the 3 people who commented on the snippet ver.) â„ïž â„ïž â„ïž
