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normspellsman · 1 year

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Tidal Wave

part one | part two

pairing: lo’ak x fem!human!reader

genre: angst, more angst, comfort (from tsireya to lo’ak + from spider to reader + from kiri to reader), & fluff (at the very end)

word count: 14.4k+ (holy fuck)

warning(s): suggestive content, crying, yelling, familial arguments, secrets are spilled (😬), neytiri + lo’ak arguing, mentions of violence + self inflicted injury (reader rubs skin raw), mention of incident at ta’unui clan, slightest lo’ak x tsireya, reader having self-deprecating thoughts, lo’ak being lovesick for reader, mention of lo’ak being sad, major character death, sprinkle of miscommunication / misinterpretation of actions, blood, slightest spider x reader, kiri + reader are bffs!, heartbreak?, cursing, & mentions of having little appetite

taglist: @bewbz2110 @httpjiikook @aonungsmate @cheyehc @ihave500hubbiez @heart-an0n @omnifanfic @toomuchtime02 @bigdikzaddy @anxietydrogz @myh3artttt @ancientbeing10 @yourusername1 @dearstell @goodiesinthecloset21 @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @arminsgfloll @optimisticblazetrash @liyahsocorro @universal-s1ut @amortencjja @sweetirilly @blushhpeachh @alohastitch0626 @btsiguess-kpop @ithinkimaslutforharry @zootymcnooty @zeeader @reallysparklychaos @zeida @coffeehurricanes @manumanulau @pumpararapam @ipang @willowcxmilee @audigay @sagaonpandora

word bank: sa’nok — mother, sempul — father, eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, tawtute — human; sky person, ikran — four winged creature used for hunting + flying, kehe — no, palulukan — thanator, sìlpeytsyìp — little hope (idk if it’s an accurate translation since i just put the words hope + little together), tulkun — whale like creatures, ilu — sea creature used for hunting + riding, yawne — beloved, & nga yawne lu oer — i love you

songs that i drew inspo from: a match into water by pierce the veil, gilded lily (sped up version) by cults, mr. forgettable by david kushner, & reflections by the neighbourhood

note: huge shoutout to @neteyamslovrr for helping me proofread this! ilysm baby 😭🫶🏼🤍 mentions of readers birthday takes place around 3-4 months after her & spider were kidnapped (so reader, kiri, spider, & lo’ak are aged up to 17-18). i imagined the events of atwow happening over a couple of months due to the fact that ronal is more visibly pregnant towards the end than when we first see her. so, just for clarification :)

Lo’ak had begged his parents the morning after to save you.

He pleaded and begged, getting on his knees as he sobbed into his Sa’nok’s thigh, covering it in his warm tears and snot. But, Jake’s answer stayed persistent: “They are strong kids, son. They will be alright,”. Of course, Jake wasn’t aware that Lo’ak and his other siblings heard what he had to say about you and Spider the night before during he and Neytiri’s heated discussion.

( “The kids know everything! They know where we live! Spider knows our whole operation. We are not safe as long as they have those two. They both can lead him right here! We are no longer safe staying here.” )

Lo’ak knew that neither you or Spider would ever give up the location of High Camp or of the Sully family. The both of you were loyal to a fault. Perhaps too loyal for your own good. It hurt to hear that his own Sempul would ever think that you would betray the family you grew to think of as your own. Lo’ak knew you better than anyone else.

Having to leave the Omatikaya and not even attempt to save you made Lo’ak resent his parents, his heart completely breaking into two as he got farther and farther from his home and essentially you. It was days before he had spoken to his parents after arriving at Awa’atlu, but it wasn’t like his parents sought out to speak to him either.

The more time he spent on the island, the more time he found himself yearning to have you by his side. To experience all of this with you. There was a constant hole in his chest that never left, deepening every time he thought of you. He had no way of knowing if you were being tortured at the current moment or even alive. He didn’t trust the RDA to keep you alive, especially once they saw how loyal you were to Jake and his family, disposing of you like you were nothing. You are everything to Lo’ak and it pained him to not know how you were doing or what was happening to you during your time in the enemy’s hands.

He could only pray to Eywa every night to keep you safe and spare you, fully aware that if she answered his call, she’d need something in return. And he was fully prepared to pay the price with his own life.

———

The torture they put you through was something you’d never would wish upon your greatest enemy.

They had ceased the torture on Spider, the orders being given to them by Quaritch. So, Ardmore turned to you and inflicted all kinds of pain and continuous torture onto you. The human boy begged Quaritch to put a stop to this, demanding him to let you go. But no matter how much Spider pleaded with the man or how many times he went over it with Ardmore, the woman didn’t budge. She was insistent on getting something out of you. But all she really got was memories and flashes of a tall Na’vi teen boy and nothing else. Things that were useless to her, so she punished you every time.

The first time you arrived at their base, their doctors had pulled you aside and assessed you. They deemed that you had multiple fractured ribs and a mild concussion, ordering Ardmore to let you heal before she decided to do anything. She agreed to it at first since she had Spider to get information out of, but once Quaritch told her that he was off limits and was going to comply with him and his team, she began to drag you out to the interrogation room and leave you in there for hours until you passed out.

It was the same routine for weeks. Wake up, get dragged to the interrogation room, receive endless amounts of torture for hours, pass out, repeat. Days began to blur together, not knowing where one began and the next stopped. It was all the same.

The first time you realized you had been in the RDA’s grasp for too long was the night Spider had snuck into your room and gently sang happy birthday to you. It must’ve been months then. Your seventeenth birthday was celebrated nearly a year before being taken hostage by Quaritch. Ardmore had deemed it best to separate Spider and you from each other, breaking down both of your support systems. That night, as you and the boy silently cried into the dark of your room, you lost all hope that Lo’ak was coming back for you.

It hurt too much to think about. But you knew, you knew that eventually, it was never going to work out. You were too different. Something was bound to happen sooner or later, ripping the two of you from each other and essentially ending the relationship you had with one another. You loved Lo’ak dearly but you knew that your love was never in the cards. It was something taboo, forbidden. You only hoped that Lo’ak was able to find comfort within someone else during this time. For you doubted that you’d ever see each other again. He needed someone like him. Not you.

———

Lo’ak had done everything he could to keep his mind off of you.

He needed to keep his mind off of you if he didn’t want to break down in the middle of the beach twenty-four-seven. So, he often spent more time training with Tsireya and got into meaningless fights whenever he could, angering his parents to no end. It worked at times, but often not, his mind always wandered back to you. Always.

“Lo’ak, what are you doing?” A soft voice asked, pulling the boy away from his never ending thoughts of the one person he desired to see.

“Moping,” he mumbled, crossed legged on the shoreline as he picked at the soft sand beneath him.

“I can tell,” she replied, taking a seat next to him. The boy next to her looked like a wounded puppy, ears drawn back as his tail laid limp beside him. Plus, he had a frown painted onto his face as he blankly stared at the sand below. “What is bothering you?” She asked, calmness etched into her voice.

Lo’ak hadn’t told her, or any other Metkayina for that matter, about you and the kind of relationship you shared. Sure he mentioned you and Spider and what happened before he and his family left to seek uturu from the reef people. But he never gave anyone the idea that he was in love with you. He didn’t know how any of them would react.

“Is it about the humans you mentioned earlier?” She added, filling in the silence that was growing between them as Lo’ak didn’t answer her previous question.

The boy only hummed, poking his fingers into the damp sand. He really didn’t want to talk to Tsireya about this. It risked the chance of his Sa’nok hearing or a stranger eavesdropping and telling everyone else in the village about how much he cared for a tawtute. It also hurt to talk about you. Because he knew once he started, he was never going to stop.

“I am sorry that they were taken. I know they meant a lot to you and your siblings,” Tsireya commented, truly feeling sorry for the young boy. She could tell that Lo’ak deeply cared for the humans and she couldn’t imagine losing someone that close to her like that.

A shrug from Lo’ak was his only response to the girl’s comfort, tears beginning to prick his eyes as he began to crave your touch and soothing lips against his. He began to forget what it was like to have your hands and lips on his own skin, making the hole in his chest increase in size.

“What were their names again?” She delicately asked, genuinely curious. Foreign things always interested the girl and she had never seen a tawtute before. So, befriending people that have, made her want to ask all of the questions she’s been dying to ask. The girl knew that her chance of meeting a human was extremely low before the Sully’s arrival, but that still didn’t stop her from wondering.

A small smile etched itself onto the corners of Lo’ak’s lips as he thought about you. Your name was probably his favorite thing to utter. It becoming a prayer during the darkest hours of the night, with you being the only one to answer his mumbled words. You were Lo’ak’s salvation and he never hesitated to remind you.

“(Y/N) and Spider,” he replied, fingers now fiddling with the anklet around his foot. You had made it for him for his fifteenth birthday. The poor boy had been so flustered while trying to tie it around his ankle that the woven material kept slipping through his fingers. You offered your help with a giggle, your soft fingertips causing fire to erupt against his skin as they trailed from his ankle bone to his calf in a teasing manner. If Lo’ak closed his eyes and tried hard enough, he could still feel the tingly sensation your fingers left behind in their wake.

“Those are…interesting names,” Tsireya giggled, testing out their names on her tongue, attempting to enunciate every letter and vowel to the best of her ability. “Humans have such weird names,” she comments, reflecting back on the time she briefly met Norm and Max when they came to visit after Kiri’s seizure.

Lo’ak only hummed in response, smile still on his face as he recalled all the memories he has of you. He missed you so much. He felt empty without you. He felt as if he had half a soul with you gone. His whole being ached to be with you, touch you, love you.

The Metkayina girl noticed Lo’ak’s almost blissful smile on his face, copying his actions. She could only assume that one of you meant more to him than the other. That the other held a special place in his heart. “Which one is it?” She asked, not trying to sound like she was prying. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She was just curious.

Lo’ak’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”.

“Which one has you wrapped around their finger?”.

The question itself made Lo’ak blush, bottom lip going in between his teeth in an attempt to stop an even wider smile from making its way onto his face. Damn, he thought, she can read me like a book. You got to be more subtle man.

The boy gave her his answer, tail perking up and swaying to and from at the mention of your name, his body betraying him at trying to hide his affection for you.

“Can you tell me about her?” Tsireya asked, enthralled at how just the mere mention of your name influenced such actions from the Omatikaya boy.

Lo’ak didn’t need to be asked twice before he began to talk about you, barely taking any breaths in between each word he uttered. If only his Mother and Father could see how much love Lo’ak held for you. If only.

———

“Ready kid?”.

You’d rather throw yourself off the highest floating mountain than go with Quaritch and his team on their mission to hunt down Jake and his family. But, alas, you had to go. You had to go unless you wanted to continue to be tortured by the old blonde Captain. You hated that woman with everything you had in you.

Quaritch had promptly requested Ardmore to cease her torturous treatment on you, stating that he finally got a lead on where the Sully’s might be and that you were crucial to the plan he and his team were putting together. He needed you to go with them and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He saw how Jake’s son had reacted when he was teasing the boy about you. The boy cared for you and Quaritch was going to use it as leverage somehow.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” You replied, eyes narrowing at the man in front of you. You absolutely did not want to go wherever they were going, but you didn’t want to stay behind and be tortured to death. So, you took the lesser of two evils (if you could even call it that).

Quaritch chuckled at your response, shaking his head, motioning you to follow after him. The man had taken a liking to you, much like he did with Spider. You weren’t afraid to express how much you disliked the man nor did you hesitate to express your distaste for the whole situation he put you in. He liked your bluntness and admired your loyalty to the Na’vi, even if it was a major inconvenience for him and his team.

You had only ridden on an ikran a handful of times before, Lo’ak only being able to convince you with his little pout and big pleading eyes. You never were a fan of heights and having to spend Eywa knows how long on an ikran to the next base Quaritch was heading to made you want to cry. At least with Lo’ak, you knew that he’d always catch you if you began to slip. But with Quaritch, you were confident he wouldn’t give two shits if you slipped off the flying creature.

“I am not getting on an ikran with you,” you commented, hands on hips as you approached the RDA Avatar soldiers and their ikrans. You were very surprised that the whole group managed to, successfully, claim an ikran within only months of being on Pandora whereas native Na’vi trained their whole lives for this. It all left a bitter taste in your mouth when you thought about it.

“You’re not, sweetheart,” Quaritch answers, turning back towards you once he reached his bonded companion.

The ikran was probably the most beautiful you’ve seen, even with your limited experience with the creatures. The whole body of the animal was a deep navy blue, streaks of gold and orange decorating its wings. The animal itself was gorgeous. It was ironic how someone so evil and ugly had managed to tame something so beautiful.

“Spider’s riding with me. You’ll ride with Z-Dog,” he continued, clicking his tongue towards the tall Avatar woman, gently petting his ikran as he did so.

Your eyes were torn from the navy creature in front of you to the woman. Your blood went cold as you made eye contact, her hard stare boring into your eyes as she robotically chewed at the gum in her mouth. Great, you thought, I’m definitely going to die.

“We don’t have all day, kid,” Quaritch commented, already mounted on his ikran as Spider sat in front of him, eyes worriedly scanning your figure as you stood there frozen in place.

Your eyes then drifted from the woman to her bonded companion behind her, its face gently nuzzling into her side affectionately. Your heart clenched at the sight of the animal. It looked almost identical to that of your boyfriend's ikran. Lo’ak’s was an almost dark blue, gold swirling around its neck and wings. His companion shared many similarities to the one of his Father, the only difference being the black patch on his protruding lower jaw. Memories of when Lo’ak took you out for rides on his ikran flooded your mind, making the hole in your chest double in size.

“Let’s go,” the woman said, snatching your forearm in her grip as she placed you onto the creature, placing herself behind you as she made tshaleyu with the animal. The winged creature chirped in delight at the sensation and shrieked once it readied itself to take flight, wings twitching.

You braced yourself for the ride, both hands tightening around one of the ikrans queues, thighs tensing in anticipation. The rides you had with Lo’ak were much more smoother and gentler. Lo’ak made sure to put emphasis on how he dismounted from the ground, trying to make it as smooth as possible for you. His bonded animal always complied, never rushing when he pushed off the ground and into the skies above. You found yourself missing that process as you desperately tried not to slip off the poor animal as it ascended into the blue sky. It was rough, to say the least.

Once you reached an appropriate enough altitude, Z-Dog steadied and leveled out her ikran, halting the rough turbulence you experienced moments prior. The creature chirped once again, smoothly gliding through the wind.

You always loved the feeling you got whenever you were up in the sky with Lo’ak despite your anxiety regarding heights. He always made sure that you were okay throughout the ride as well as before and after the fact. But with the stranger you were assigned to, you found yourself wanting to hurl in anxiousness. You only hoped that this was going to be a quick and fast flight to wherever the hell you were heading to.

———

The minute you stepped into the small room the tulkun hunters had allowed you to occupy during your stay, you fell to your knees. Sobs racked your body as your mind replayed the scenes that you witnessed only minutes prior. Arriving at the Ta’unui village. The gathering of their people like they were sheep to slaughter. Quaritch threatening the Tsahik and Olo’eyktan of the clan. Lyle shooting and killing a sea creature on his Colonel’s order. The burning of the peoples homes. The killing of a Mother tulkun. It all kept replaying in your head, even when you moved to the even smaller shower.

You tried so hard to rid of the memories in your head, of the smell on your skin, of the guilt you felt. You rubbed at your skin until it was raw and hot and bleeding. The permanent reminder of just what your race is capable of slamming to the forefront of your mind. It all felt wrong. It feels wrong being here. Feels wrong to live on Pandora where its native species had to experience the pain and constant attempts of colonization from a different species. It all felt like you were contributing to whatever Quaritch had in mind. Even if he didn’t tell you any details, you still chose to come along. Maybe staying behind with Captain Ardmore would’ve been a better option. After all, it wouldn’t have mattered if you were alive or not at the end of it for you already felt dead inside. Nothing and no one would be able to bring you comfort from what you just saw and gone through.

“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice asked, it cracking from the amount of emotion the owner felt.

“Spider,” you whispered, curling in on yourself as you saw his figure standing in your doorway, tears streaming down his face.

The boy made his way to your bed, laying on it, facing you on his side. Not a word was uttered between you two, not needing any to communicate the type of comfort you both seeked from each other. And you stayed like that, facing each other and grasping onto each other's hands for comfort as you unknowingly fell asleep, slumber welcoming you into its embrace. But even your dreams weren’t a safe place. You dreamt of fire, of blood, and of death the whole night.

Maybe Neytiri was right. You should’ve never befriended the Sully children. You should’ve stuck to your own kind.

———

The second Lo’ak heard that a boy and a girl had been with Quaritch and his team during their attack on a nearby village, he began to ready his ilu for the trip. For getting you back.

The boy had paced back and forth from the edge of the mauri to his swimming companion, bending down to slip on the various of saddles the animal needed for riding. The creature chirped up at him every time Lo’ak bent down, seemingly encouraging him as he did so.

“What are you doing?” A voice asked, confusion laced in their tone. Lo’ak knew who it was before they even spoke. His Sa’nok had a bad habit of sneaking up on everyone, being too quiet for her own good. The hairs on the back of his head always stood up on end whenever he felt his Mothers presence behind him, alerting him of the potential rage he was going to face from the woman.

“To save them,” Lo’ak mumbled, too focused on saddling the right equipment on his companion, fiddling with the straps as he tightened them. The boy knew that his parents never really cared for either of your well-beings, it being evident in their body language and actions whenever he or Kiri talked about the things they did with the pair of you that particular day. If they weren’t willing to save you, then Lo’ak would take it upon himself to. He finally knew where you were after months of not knowing and he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms again.

A growl emitted itself from his Mothers lips, her hand coming out to grip her son's bicep into her grasp, “Kehe!”.

Neytiri didn’t know why her son was so infatuated with you, a tawtute. She was always against her children from befriending you and Spider, glaring at your figures everytime you walked by at High Camp. Her son seemed to be closer with you than Spider. The fact always bothered her, making her skin crawl with anger. Angry that you were occupying her son's time when he could be doing other things, meeting other people, and talking to other appropriate women of the clan.

“You will not,” she continued, scowl painted onto her face as she glared down at her son. She knew that if Lo’ak were to continue with his plan and make it to wherever you were, that Quaritch wouldn’t hesitate to shoot or take him prisoner. She couldn’t have that. Neytiri needed all of her children within eyesight so she could look over them and make sure that they were safe. She wouldn’t be able to do that if her son went to you.

Lo’ak growled back at his Mother, ripping his arm out from her tight grip. The boy had his mind made up and nobody was going to stop him. He needed to get to you. He needed you.

“I will. Why do you even care? You haven’t bothered to talk to me the whole time here. The only time you talk to me is to yell or scold me for doing yet another thing wrong,” Lo’ak hissed out, teeth tightly clenched. “(Y/N) and Spider care about me more than you ever have!” He added, whole body shaking in anger.

Neytiri gasped at her sons exclaimation, lightly hissing at him, “How dare you think that? I love you, Lo’ak. But they, they do not! They are demons! They aren’t capable of such things as love.”

Lo’ak’s ears drew back to press up against his skull and his lips drew up to show off his pointed fangs, a very loud hiss escaping from between his teeth. The hiss sounded almost roar-like, drawing attention from inside the Sully mauri, ears and tails perking up in interest.

Another gasp escaped from Neytiri’s throat. Her son had never hissed at her like that. Sure he had hissed at her playfully when he was younger or out of annoyance whenever she tried to get him to open up to her. But he had never hissed at her so…possessively. The only time she had heard a roar like this was when her husband was fighting off Quaritch during the Great Battle and he threatened everything he worked so hard to build during his time in the Avatar program.

“They do! She loves me. She’s capable of it and so much more. But you are too stubborn and stuck in your ways to see her the way I do. She cares for me, loves me. That I know,” Lo’ak grumbled out, fangs seeming to get even longer as he brewed in his anger. “I see her and she sees me. Something you and Dad never do,” he finished, turning away from his Mother as he reached out to grab the final thing he needed for his ride to you.

“What do you mean, Lo’ak?” Neytiri asked, anger laced in her voice. She knew what he was insinuating, but she needed to hear it come from his mouth. To confirm her suspicions. To confirm or deny what she had been thinking for years.

“I mean that she is mine. She is the only thing that I was ever able to have. I see her. She has taken me heart, body, and soul,” he slightly hisses out, not daring to look at his Mother as he spoke. He knew that once the confession of his sins slipped from his lips, there was no telling what his Mother would do. He didn’t want to be in the crossfire once she decided to act upon whatever she was feeling, her not being a top priority in his life at the moment. You were the priority and he’d be damned if anyone stopped him from getting to you.

“No,” Neytiri whispers, “You did not. Tell me you didn’t!”.

There were many things that his Mother could be referring to, but he was pretty sure he knew what she was hinting at. It was something that he had planned on doing with you once he properly courted you and way further into the future. But, nothing ever goes according to plan in Lo’ak’s life. The first time you guys had engaged in such an act was months before you were taken hostage. You had never been to the Tree of Souls, it being nearly impossible for you to get to without proper assistance. Lo’ak had decided to take you to it as a surprise on your weekly date night. The two of you had been dating for a while but never went as far as kissing or wondering hands against skin. It all happened so fast. One minute Lo’ak was describing the connection to you, how it all worked and the next, you were under him squirming and calling out his name in pleasure. He knew that once such an act was done, he’d be tied to you forever. That in the eyes of the Great Mother you two were mates and forever bound to one another’s souls. After that, the two of you often found yourselves engaging to be together. Lo’ak felt as if it was another way he could feel connected to you without being able to perform tshaleyu. He never took the act for granted and always put your pleasure before his, worshiping every inch of your body before you could do the same to him.

Her sons silence was Neytiri’s answer resulting in her loudly hissing at her youngest son, almost matching Lo’ak’s moments prior. That was the final straw to have Jake interfere between his arguing son and wife.

“You gave yourself to her? To a demon? Agh! Shame! You have brought shame upon this family and yourself. You tainted yourself with a human. Someone who can’t give you a future!” She yelled out, angry tears running down the expanse of her cheeks. Intercourse before mating wasn’t something that was taboo in the Omatikaya culture, but it was expected of the Olo’eyktan and his family to save themselves before then, demonstrating their loyalty to the people and their future spouse. So to hear her son, the second born of the Olo’eyktan, engage in such an intimate act with a human nonetheless, made her want to pluck his eyes out from the sockets that held them.

“Woah! Woah! Hey!” Jake said, jumping in between his son and wife before either of them could jump at each other's throat. His front faced Neytiri while his back faced his son. “Hey! What’s going on?” He gently asked, bringing his wife’s face into his hands as he tried to get her to focus his attention on him and not Lo’ak.

“Your son has mated with a demon!” She spat out, disgust interlaced in her tone. The way she felt towards the situation was evident enough on her face. Her lips were drawn back to flash her fangs and her nose was scrunched as if she just smelt a pile of Palulukan dung.

Jake froze at the words his wife spat, eyes darting to his son behind him. Although he froze at the words, he wasn’t surprised. He had a feeling that you and Lo’ak were more than just friends. He often caught his son gently rubbing at the marks you left on his skin during dinner, a smirk dancing across his youngests lips. Jake’s not stupid. He was Lo’ak’s age once and understood the urges he faced. But, he was human then and the Na’vi have a completely different way of thinking and going about things like this.

Jake didn’t question Lo’ak about whether or not what Neytiri said was true, already knowing the answer. He only sighed in response and tried to coax his wife to calm down.

“Go back in the house, son. Now,” Jake demanded, shooting him a look that told him he wasn’t taking a no for an answer.

Lo’ak wanted to argue and continue with his plan on rescuing you, but he knew that his pleading would be worthless, especially after his confession. So, he begrudgingly desaddled his ilu and made his way into the pod, ignoring the looks of his siblings as he made his way to his side of the house, throwing something against the woven wall before settling down in the corner. Tears left his eyes as he sat there. He was frustrated. All he wanted to do was see and hold you, but it seemed as if Eywa wasn’t on his side once again.

Why Great Mother? Why do you do this to me?

His heart further broke at the fact that you, yet again, slipped through his fingers. It seemed as if the whole universe was against the two of you. But, the universe be damned. Lo’ak was going to get you back no matter what it took. He’d burn down villages for you, destroy planets for you. He’d do anything for you.

———

“They found out?” A soft voice asks, pulling Lo’ak out from his zoning out episode.

He only hummed in response, eyes puffy from all the crying he did that night. His Mother screamed and cried at him after she talked to Jake, calling him what everyone else does, a disappointment. He desperately tried to get her to understand how he felt about you and how much he cared for you. He wouldn’t fall in love with just anyone, so you had to be very special to be the one to hold his heart.

Neteyam had been the one to comfort him that night as Jake and Kiri consoled Neytiri, trying to get her to calm down so she didn’t disturb any other Metkayina trying to sleep or seek shelter from the storm. It had been the first time in years that Neteyam had held Lo’ak in his arms, turning him away from the sight of their Sa’nok as the elder practically held the younger in his lap. Neteyam felt bad that their Mother was acting like this. Like she too hadn’t fallen in love with a tawtute. No matter how long Jake stayed on the planet and mingled with the natives, he would always be a human at heart. It’s hard to break out of old habits and it seemed as if their Father began to fall back into his sky people ways as of recent.

( “It’s okay, tsmukan,” Neteyam had whispered, Lo’ak barely hearing over the dramatic wails of his Mother. The boy had long been done with his crying, just blankly staring at the anklet wrapped around his foot. The last remaining thing he had of you.

“She doesn’t understand,” the older brother continued, stroking Lo’ak’s braids with such a gentleness, he thought for a second that it was you who was holding him. He only ever experienced such a gentle touch with you. It felt wrong that it wasn’t. That it was coming from his brother and not you.

“She does not,” Lo’ak confirmed, burying himself further into his brothers body, actively seeking his warmth to combat the shaking of his own body. “She never will,” he continued, eyes hardened to a glare as he stared at the intricately woven floor. She will never understand, he thought to himself, anger and sadness erupting in his chest. )

“A lot of the people heard your Mother last night,” Tsireya spoke up, sitting next to the dark blue boy. She felt bad for the teen. To be in love with someone you could never have must be heart wrenching. “I am sorry she acted the way she did. I hope she soon comes to the realization that you do truly love her,” she continued, trying to offer up the best comfort she could.

“I don’t think my Dad cared. Probably already knew before I told them. But,” he croaked out, voice coming out coarse as a result from his crying the night prior, “He didn’t do anything to stop Mom from saying those things about her, about me.”.

Having his Father allow his wife to continually insult his lover and him had made Lo’ak bitter. How come he wasn’t able to defend the one he loved but it was alright for Neytiri to throw such hurtful words to her own son? It all seemed hypocritical, backwards.

Tsireya frowned at Lo’ak’s words. She truly felt bad for him. She didn’t think that it was fair for his own Mother to react that harshly to the news. Didn’t she too fall in love with a human? It didn’t make sense to her.

“Oh, Lo’ak, I’m so sorry,” she whispered out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in hopes to comfort him.

Nothing about this situation was ideal. Lo’ak wasn’t able to go and rescue you from the clutches of the RDA. Neytiri had scolded and reprimanded her youngest son for being in love, calling him all sorts of colorful names in the process. Jake hadn’t done anything to prevent his wife from her onslaught of scowls and hisses towards their son. The whole clan now probably knew about how Lo’ak was a sky demon lover. And Tsireya is the one comforting the boy when it should be his own family that we’re bringing him solace. It all became a mess so fast, everything crumbling down towards the ground within seconds.

Lo’ak only hummed in response to Tsireya’s sympathetic tone, too tired to give her an actual response. His eyes were bloodshot from all the tears he’s expelled over night. Lo’ak’s face was practically swollen from how hard he cried last night. He looked like a complete mess.

Eywa had to be punishing him for something for the deity that he grew up hearing about wouldn’t have allowed any of this to happen. Was it really that bad that Lo’ak loved you? That he loved a human? Surely the Great Mother held all of her children dear to her heart. So, why was she letting this happen? What was the bigger picture? What was the reason? Lo’ak wanted to know the answers to these questions so he could figure out why it was so wrong to love you when it felt so right to.

———

Pain spread throughout your lower back and hip, becoming warm as the nerve endings communicated with each other and the crushed blood cells came to the surface of your delicate skin. The minute Spider hijacked the ship and the vehicle surged forward, your body made harsh contact with the metal table in the middle of the room and the floor once it crashed amongst the jagged rocks.

“(Y/N)! You okay?” The human boy yelled out, scrambling up to his feet to get to your position against the floor.

A groan was your only answer, pulling yourself up the best you could before the soldiers and ship crew could grab you. You could feel the bruises already forming on your soft skin, heat spreading throughout the areas.

“Get them off the ship!” A voice demanded, catching your attention. Your heart dropped to your stomach upon hearing the words. They were going to take you somewhere farther from Lo’ak once more. Although you hadn’t gone down with Spider to see him and the others being held hostage at the front of the ship, you still didn’t want to be taken somewhere else where you most likely wouldn’t be able to see him again.

Hands wrapped themselves around your biceps, roughly pulling you up from where you kneeled, guiding you to the exit.

“Let go of me!” You hissed, ripping your arms from out of the strangers grip just in time to catch the mask being thrown at you by another.

“Put it on,” they demanded, putting on their own mask before looking at you as you put yours on, a scowl on your face as you did so.

The same person pushed you forward in front of them, urging you to walk forwards and down the metal stairs. You desperately wanted to push whoever was in front of you down the stairs and run towards wherever they were keeping Lo’ak and the rest. You only wanted to see him and make sure that he was okay. That he was still breathing.

“Make sure it’s tight,” a man commented, tugging on the side of your mask.

“She’s fine, dumbass,” Spider spat, pushing the man’s hand away from your masked face, putting himself between the man and you.

The man before you both scoffed and continued forward, leading the two of you somewhere on the ship where they kept their smaller boats.

Spider could sense your apprehension, grabbing your hand as the group of you continued to walk along the metal surface of the ship, shaking his head down at you as he dragged you besides him. He knew what you wanted to do, he wanted to do the same, but he knew that if you gave into that urge, they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot either of you on the spot. He needed to keep you safe not just for Lo’ak’s sake but for himself too. You were his lifeline throughout this whole awful experience. Your presence itself helped him in more ways than one whenever he felt himself start to slip through the cracks while with Quaritch and Ardmore. If the two of you were going to make it out this afternoon, he needed you safe and alive.

Another man had exclaimed for the group to hurry up before the last of the boats left without them, getting cut off at the end of his sentence with a sharp exhale and groan as his body was thrown up against the wall of the ship.

Two large blue bodies had dropped down from above, pushing and punching the human men surrounding you and Spider, effectively killing them as they jumped from body to body.

“Lo’ak,” you whispered out, Spider pulling your back into his chest, away from Neteyam and Lo’ak, being wary of their size and strength.

A smile painted itself across your lips once the familiar amber eyes you dearly missed made contact with your colorful ones, time seemingly coming to a halt as the both of you took in each other's presence.

Lo’ak seemed to have filled out a bit, his biceps and thighs much larger than they were the last time you saw them. His hair was pulled back, showing off his sharpened jawline and defined shoulders and collarbones. Back in the forest, he rarely ever had his hair up, preferring it down so your fingers could have easy access to them whenever you wanted to run your smaller hands through the braids. His midsection seemed slimmer and tighter, displaying his developing abs along his stomach. Lo’ak seemed more confident in his physique as he stood there in front of you. You could practically feel it oozing off of him. The reef clan must’ve prioritized his training during his stay, you concluded.

As you gawked at the significant changes to your boyfriend's physical body, he too had his eyes glued to your figure.

Although much hadn’t changed, you still looked beautiful as ever. You had your hair down, different from your typical braid or usual hairstyle. You deemed having your hair out of your face more practical during your time in the forest. It just made everything easier as you explored and ran about. Due to Ardmore’s negligence to your physical needs, you figured it was easier to have your hair down most of the time, having no energy to do it yourself when she gave you a break from her torturous pursuits. Your hair had gotten longer during your time away from each other, inches longer than it previously was. It framed your face beautifully Lo’ak thought, smiling at you.

But before either of you could run to each other and embrace, a soldier had begun to stir and get up, a gun clutched in his grasp.

Lo’ak whipped his head towards the noise, bringing up the gun in his right hand up without thinking, finger squeezing the trigger as multiple rounds of bullets penetrated the human in front of him. The man slumped back, falling dead to the floor.

The air then became tense, the moment processing in everyone’s head for a second. Then, Neteyam had gently grabbed Lo’ak’s forearm and urged him forward, walking backwards as Spider pushed you in front of him, following the Na’vi boy.

The two boys in front of you had effortlessly jumped down from the top of the stairs to the ground below, swiftly standing up from their crouch afterwards. Sensing your hesitation, Lo’ak wrapped his free arm around your waist and followed after his brother and Spider, holding you close to his side as he jumped down from the height. He only let go of your waist once you regained your bearings.

“Hello, ma sìlpeytsyìp,” Lo’ak whispers, free hand going up to your bare neck, softly grazing his thumb against the delicate skin.

“Hello, Lo’ak,” you whisper back, a smile on your face as you gazed at your lover. Oh how you wished you didn’t need this stupid mask so you could capture his lips with yours.

You missed the boy in front of you so much. It was hard to endure all those months away from each other. He consumed every single thought you had. So to have him in front of you, alive and breathing and not a figment of your imagination, made you want to crawl into his large arms and stay there forever.

Your small moment was interrupted by Spider, him exclaiming a thank you so much man as he turned towards the Na’vi teens.

Lo’ak had tore his eyes away from yours, staring at Spider as he thanked him and Neteyam for saving both of your asses back there. The blue boy smiled at his friend, going to express his welcome but his smile dropped as he saw the same Avatar soldiers from that night come into view, aiming their guns towards the group of teens.

As Lo’ak perked up to shoot at the familiar fake Avatars, Neteyam pulled him back just as quickly, ushering him and the lot of you to run and dodge the bullets as they fired and ricocheted off the railings and other obstacles between you and them.

“Go! Go!” Neteyam exclaimed, pushing the three of you towards a corner by the moonpool, snatching Lo’ak’s gun with a give me that!.

The older Na’vi began to shoot back at the soldiers shooting at you four, shouting at all of you to hurry and jump into the water beneath the opening in front of you. Before you could process Neteyam’s words, Lo’ak took you into his arms and rushed towards the moonpool, jumping over the railing and into the water. Cool water splashed against your body and sealed mask, making you involuntarily hold your breath as a reflex.

Upon breaching the surface, you exhaled the air you held, realizing that there was no need for you to hold it.

“That was insane cuz!” Lo’ak exclaimed, high-fiving Spider as he hollered back an excited hell yeah!. His arm around you had slipped from its grasp in order to hand out the high-five he gave Spider.

The three of you just narrowly escaped death and Lo’ak was hollering in delight from the adrenaline rush. Well, you thought, at least the sea didn’t change that about him.

The hairs on your skin stood on end once you heard the gurgle of Neteyam’s first gasp of breath after following you and the boys, diving into the water. Your body instinctively knew that something bad was bound to happen and you could only pray to Eywa that this wasn’t happening.

Everyone’s world stopped on its axis once Neteyam announced that he’d been shot, struggling to keep himself upright in the water. It was as if his own acknowledgment of being shot stripped him of his refined swimming skills, limbs not being able to keep up with the blood loss and shock of the event.

You were the first one by the boys side after the words fell from his lips, trying to help keep him afloat in the water. “It’s okay, Teyam,” you whispered, head barely above the water's surface as you kept the boy upright, “You’ll be okay.”.

You knew that your words were only empty promises. That realistically, Neteyam wasn’t going to make it. No amount of comforting whispers were going to cover up that fact or bring the boy some kind of solace from death's icy grip.

“Here! Get him up on here,” an unfamiliar voice exclaimed, drawing your attention from Neteyam to the owner.

A beautiful Na’vi girl had broke the surface of the water with a strange creature by her side. She gestured for you and the rest to get Neteyam up onto the animal so you could transport him somewhere where he could be helped.

The strange girls eyes fell on you, making your stomach drop and breath hitch in your throat. She must be of the clan that harbored the Sully family, you thought to yourself as you studied her much lighter blue skin and enchanting ocean blue eyes. Really pretty too.

“C’mon bro,” Lo’ak stuttered out, taking Neteyam out from your grip and into his, swimming towards the girl and her creature.

Spider had pulled you out from your stupor, tugging on your hand as he swam the both of you towards the group, grabbing the side of the creatures saddle as it readied itself to surge forward in the water. The boys hand had let go of your hand and went to grab your waist, pulling you flush to his side in preparation for the resistance of the water once the creature got the okay to take off. Your own hands wrapped themselves around Spider’s neck, muscles in your arms tightening in preparation as well.

Once Lo’ak situated Neteyam onto the creature behind him, he urged the animal to go forward through the bond, it hurriedly gliding through the water as it pushed against the current and new added weight on all sides.

You knew that once the five of you left the scene and headed towards somewhere else, everything was going to change. That it was all downhill from here.

———

Your hands were caked in blood. In Neteyam’s blood.

The red substance ran up your wrists and stopped at your mid forearm. The skin that was covered in it felt like it was on fire. It burned.

Your small hands that were desperately trying to slow down the blood pouring out of the boys chest were replaced by Lo’ak’s, his bigger body pushing you out of the way once Jake noticed your useless efforts and demanded his second son to replace your hands with his.

Tears spewed out from your waterline, falling down your cheeks and gathering at the bottom of your mask. Your throat burned from your suppression of sobs, desperately trying to escape from your sealed lips. You didn’t feel worthy crying and sobbing over the fatally injured boy in front of you. It was your fault he was shot. Indirectly or not, if Neteyam and Lo’ak didn’t come back for you and Spider, then he’d be fine and not bleeding out in front of his family. He wouldn't be laid dying in front of you.

You felt familiar, calloused hands wrapped themselves around your frame, bringing your body into their own.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Spider lowly whispered, bringing your face into his neck as you let out a quiet sob, leaning into his embrace. He knew that you were on the brink of breaking down and knew that you were keeping it in so as to not disturb the Sully family in their growing mourning. He saw the way Lo’ak pushed his way between you and Neteyam’s dying body, replacing your hands with his own against his brothers open chest. He knew that no one else around you would comfort you in the way that you needed, so he scurried to your side and brought you into his arms for the comfort that you craved.

You’ve never seen someone die. You’ve never seen someone die right in front of you. Your brain was scrambling to gather itself and process what was happening. But it was as if your brain couldn’t gather all the working pieces it needed and abandoned you in your own body, leaving you to pick up the pieces yourself and try to process what was happening.

Your body began to shiver as shock and adrenaline coursed through your veins, making your quiet sobs even harder to contain and actually keep silent.

The minute your ears picked up on Neytiri’s high pitched wails and screams, you knew that Neteyam had taken his last breath and finally joined Eywa in his afterlife. From that moment on, everything went by in a flash.

Neytiri, Jake, and Spider had left back towards the ship for a reason your ears didn’t pick up on, still ringing in the aftershocks of Neytiri’s screams. The Na’vi woman left on her ikran, it screeching as she made tshaleyu. The both of them took off in a blur from the speed of the animals ascent. Spider left you with a gentle kiss on the forehead and a promise that he’ll come back, smoothing down your damp hair before following after Jake. And Lo’ak. He only spared you a small glance before telling the reef Na’vi girl to stay with Neteyam’s body, gently patting her cheek before he hurried off to follow his Father and Spider.

Even though your mind struggled to process and piece together what just happened, it was still able to process the soft touch Lo’ak bestowed upon the girl in front of you and the sympathetic look he gave her before he left. How she reached out for him as he walked away and the look on her face as she watched. Oh.

Your heart broke at the realization. Lo’ak finally found someone that was suitable for him. Someone that was able to give him the future he deserved. Someone that was able to give him everything you couldn’t. And more tears fell from your eyes, heart crying out at the heartbreak.

Neytiri was right. You should’ve stayed with your own kind.

———

You didn’t stay long for Neteyam’s funeral. As soon as it ended, you treaded your way out of the water and walked somewhere secluded.

It was too much being there. It was hard watching Jake and Neytiri place their eldest son down onto the orange glowing tendrils. It was hard watching him be absorbed by them, disappearing into the glowing mass. Guilt riddled your consciousness, yelling at you that you shouldn’t be there. That it was your fault that he was with Eywa now. That you took away Jake and Neytiri’s firstborn son from their grasp too soon. You felt that your presence itself was a reminder as to why Neteyam was no longer breathing.

So, you sat yourself in a secluded area on the small island, situating yourself between the large rocks that perfectly hid your smaller frame. You didn’t want anyone disturbing you, especially Lo’ak. You didn’t think you’d be able to face him again after tonight.

“You suck at sneaking away, you know that right?” A soft voice spoke out, making you jump in response from its abrupt reveal. You had been sitting in silence for a couple of minutes before you were interrupted.

Turning your head, you saw Kiri standing there, face still painted in the white substance her Mother lathered onto her face before attending her elder brother's funeral. She held a small smile in your presence, leaning down to properly sit by your side.

You only hum and nod your head in response, turning your gaze back towards the lapping waves against the soft sand of the shoreline. You felt unworthy of the girl's presence. Like you shouldn’t stare at her for too long or else Eywa would strike you down with lightning for it. Unworthy of still being her friend even after what had occurred hours prior.

“I do not blame you, (Y/N),” she spoke up, large amber eyes glued to the side of your face. “None of us do. It was not your doing for what happened that night. You were not the one with the gun,” she continued, her blue five-fingered hand coming to rest up against your shoulder in comfort.

Growing up, Kiri always knew what you were feeling by just seeing the expression on your face. It was a bit weird growing up. She knew what you felt even before you could process it yourself. But, oftentimes, you were grateful for someone like Kiri. For someone who knew you so deeply that they didn’t need words to confirm how you felt. She just knew.

Kiri did truly mean the words she spoke. She did not think that Neteyam’s death was yours nor Spiders' doing. You two were just kids who were taken hostage and desperately needed saving. You are just kids. Your whole lives were a cause of an unfortunate event but that doesn’t mean that everything bad that happens to her family and to the other natives of Pandora were solely you and Spider's fault. The two of you shouldn’t carry that heavy burden.

“But, if Lo’ak and Neteyam didn’t come after us – ” you sputtered, tears already welling in your waterline as your throat began to tighten with emotion.

The Na’vi girl knew where you were coming from. What your thought process was and how you felt. A perk of being one of your good friends she supposed.

“But nothing, (Y/N),” she cut you off, voice firm and absolute. There was no way you were going to change her mind about the situation at hand. It wasn’t your fault. Period.

“Neteyam and Lo’ak chose to come after you and Spider. They both knew of the consequences that came with following after you. No one except Quaritch and his men are to blame,” she said with finality, not needing you to further intrude on what she said. No matter how hard you’d try to convince her that it was your fault, she wouldn’t believe you. Her mind had already been made up and you weren’t the one to blame.

Only more tears began to gather and spill from your eyes at your friend's words. It was nice to hear that she, and most likely everyone else, didn’t blame you for what happened. But it didn’t help ease the guilt you felt. Nothing could aid in the guilt you felt deep within. Perhaps with time it would go away, but even then, you highly doubted that.

“Lo’ak still loves you if that is what’s causing this worry,” Kiri whispered out, only loud enough for you to hear just in case anyone else was wandering around.

During their stay at Awa’atlu, Kiri could tell that your absence had deeply disturbed her younger brother. It was evident in everything he did. Lo’ak always had a frown on his face and found excuses to pick fights with Ao’nung and his gang of friends. It was like he didn’t have a reason to behave accordingly or live anymore. Like his sense of self was lost when you were taken by Quaritch and his soldiers. He desperately missed you and she could tell that the only thing he wanted to do was get you back and have you in his arms once again.

Your stomach turned in knots and your heart stopped at Kiri’s comment. Did he really? What about the girl that helped you that night?

“I – I’m not too sure about that. What about the girl?” You asked, face damp with tears. You saw how Lo’ak treated her that night. How he gently put his hand on her cheek and how she reached out for him with a call of his name before leaving the both of you on that rock with Neteyam’s body. How he barely spared you a glance before leaving.

You were confident that he had finally found the one the Great Mother had destined him to be with. You knew that your time together was limited, the clock starting the minute you confessed your feelings to the teen boy. It broke your heart seeing him act that way with her but you knew that he’d eventually come to his senses about you and want to pursue a Na’vi who could actually give him the future he deserved. If anything, you were pleased that he found someone like him. He would no longer be held back by you.

“What? What girl? What are you talking about?” Kiri asked, shock and concern laced within her voice. She knew that Lo’ak was too in love with you to look at anyone else the way he looked at you. So your words confused her immensely. Why did you think he no longer saw you?

The blue girl ransacked her brain for the girl you were insinuating Lo’ak was into. She kept drawing blanks, until her mind settled onto the one person that was a great comfort to Lo’ak during their stay.

“You mean Tsireya?” She asked, a barely audible giggle coming out of her mouth.

To be frank, Kiri found the situation a little funny. Lo’ak was such a lovesick puppy for you that he often refused to talk to anyone who wasn’t you. He continuously asked about you before the two of you got together, always bothering Kiri as she made her way back from the lab. He also handmade many jewelry pieces for you, even if he sucked at it and needed Tuk’s help. Why would you think his affections would change that fast?

“She’s pretty,” you hum, eyes still glued on the moving waves in the distance. Really pretty. “She’s good for him, Ri. She’d be able to give him the future he deserves. Plus, Neytiri would actually like her. It was never in the cards for us,” you finished, voice now eerily calm and void of the sadness you expressed earlier.

Kiri’s mouth fell agape at your words, eyes widening to the size of yovo fruit. What the fuck?

“(Y/N), you cannot mean that. Tsireya and Lo’ak are only friends. That’s all,” she began, trying her best to save you from your overwhelming thoughts before they consumed you whole. “He still loves you. Please believe that,” she pleaded.

You finally tore your gaze from the water and up towards the glowing amber orbs of your friend. “He left me there, Kiri. All alone with no goodbye. Barely even glanced my way before he followed after Spider and Jake,” you confessed, heart breaking all over again at the memory. It was hours before they all returned to the rock. Spider was the only one to comfort you as Lo’ak was too busy with Tsireya. The rest of the family barely even spared you a glance as they pulled each other into an embrace.

Oh, Kiri thought, ears pinning to the sides of her head. Did she interpret Lo’ak and Tsireya’s body language wrong? Were they more than friends?

Neither of you uttered another word, sitting peacefully side by side as the two of you listened to the soothing sound of the lapping waves against the shore. A war was occurring within your head and walls were built to protect you from the oncoming grenades you were sure would be thrown at you by your lover once he confessed that he was no longer in love with you. If you could even call him yours anymore.

From afar, the subject of your conversation was watching the two of you converse. He so desperately wanted to run to you and gather you into his arms and keep you there forever. But, he knew that you were no longer his. He saw how Spider treated you so gently. How he placed a kiss on the crown of your head before scurrying away to lead Jake to the ship. How he was the first one to comfort you when they arrived, beating him in embracing you and soothing you as you sobbed against his bleeding chest. And even though his heart was breaking at the possibility of you no longer loving him, he only wanted you to be happy and if that was with Spider, then he’d let you go.

———

Days had passed since your conversation with Kiri. She had never left your side since, wanting to be there for you as you navigated your grief and heartbreak. Your words still stunned the poor girl. She was sure that you were wrong but she would admit that it was awfully suspicious the amount of times she saw Lo’ak and Tsireya together. And always seeing them together, especially after you pointed it out, didn’t help. Kiri was so sure of her brothers love for you that she nearly laughed in your face once those words left your mouth. But, she too began to doubt the affections her younger brother held for you.

Kiri often spent most of her time around you, but during the times she wasn’t able to, Tuktirey had no problem keeping you company.

“No! You’re doing it wrong,” Tuk exclaimed, groaning over your lack of weaving skills.

The young girl had been attempting to teach you the new way of weaving she had learned during her time on the island. She was so excited to show you what she had learned over the months that she nearly crushed your smaller, human body in a tight hug upon hearing your agreement. The young girl profusely apologized when she heard your panicked wheeze against her collarbone, quickly getting to work after.

“I’m sorry, TukTuk. Weaving’s never really been my thing,” you apologize, gently smiling at the child next to you. She was so excited to show you how to weave the Metkayina way, her eyes practically glowed in excitement once you agreed.

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N). I struggled with it too for some time. It just takes practice,” she responded, a large gummy smile directed your way. “Plus, that just means I can make you more!” She added, trying to lift up your dampened mood.

It seemed as if everything bothered you these days. Like everything was a reminder as to why you’d never be good enough for the secondborn Omatikaya prince. A reminder of the things you couldn’t give Lo’ak. Of the things you couldn’t do to please your mate. Weaving was a huge part of the Omatikaya culture, allowing one to express their gratitude and affection towards their intended. Something that you lacked severe skill in. Sure you could make a few bracelets here and there but it was nothing compared to those of the native Omatikaya who put so much effort into their weaving, going as far as making their own unique weave pattern for their beloved. Even though you wanted to refuse Tuktirey’s plea, for it was another painful reminder that you could never have Lo’ak, you still accepted it and endured the emotional turmoil you experienced. You wouldn’t allow your own feelings to stump Tuk’s happiness and eagerness to share with you something new she learned.

“You can make me as many as you want, Tuk,” you replied, a small smile gracing your lips as you gently patted her head, ruffling her hair in the process. The young girl shrieked at your action, pushing your hand away from her freshly braided hair, giggling afterwards.

You desperately missed moments like these during your captivity. You missed playing around with the Sully children and hearing Tuk’s high pitched giggle as she ran away from your hands as you reached out to tickle her. You missed Kiri’s wise words as she spoke about whatever came to mind. You missed Lo’ak’s comforting embrace as he enveloped you into his arms whenever you needed it. You missed Neteyam’s kind nature, helping you out whenever you found yourself falling behind. You’d always miss Neteyam, his absence another reminder as to why you would never be enough for the one you loved.

A loud cough from the doorway of the marui pod broke you and Tuk out of your giggling fit, both of you whipping your heads to the figure standing in front of the opening. Your heart dropped at who was in front of you.

“Mom!” Tuktirey squealed, jumping up to her feet and towards her sa’nok.

You could tell that Neytiri wasn’t excited about your presence, her hardened glare never leaving your face even as she bent down to embrace her youngest child. Over the course of the days following Neteyam’s funeral, Neytiri was colder towards you and Spider. She rarely ever let her children see you and often fought with Jake on this matter. She always argued about the same thing. How you and Spider weren’t good for her children. How the both of you deserved to be with your people. How you bring nothing but pain to this family. That if Jake never took the both of you in, they wouldn’t be in the position. You heard most of what she was yelling about almost every night, your shared guilt with Spider growing evermore.

“I…uh…I think I should get going Tuk. I just remembered that Kiri wanted to show me around somewhere,” you awkwardly said, smiling at the young girl before quickly heading out, barely giving her enough time to say her goodbyes to you.

You sped walk out from the Sully’s pod and onto the soft sand of Awa’atlu. You knew that you were no longer welcomed in Neytiri’s presence and you respected her wishes by excusing yourself and making your way out. It was the least you could do considering all that she went through.

Hours passed by with you sitting in the same place Kiri found you days prior, just thinking. Something that you found yourself doing way too often. It was hard to get out of your head and even harder for others to help you out of it. Most days, Spider wasn’t even able to help you with your problem and he almost always was able to save you from your own mind. Today was no exception regarding getting yourself stuck in your head and going around in circles.

“(Y/N)?” A soft voice asked, effectively pulling you out from your stupor.

Your eyes shifted from where they were glued to onto the person standing next to you, making your whole body tense and stomach churn in anxiety. Tsireya.

The light blue Na’vi girl stood in front of you with a look of concern etched on her face. Her skin was covered in a thin line of droplets, a clear sign she had just came back from a swim. You wondered if she felt bad for you and approached you out of pity. If Lo’ak had told her about your past together and if she was approaching you to inform you about their new union. If she was here to tell you about what her and the other Metkayina thought of you, preparing yourself for harsh insults and words.

“Are you okay?” She asks, sitting on her knees as she leaned forward a bit, big blue eyes practically staring into your soul.

Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. You were usually very careful in how your body reacted whenever you got stuck in thought. Always giving yourself time to release the tension in your body and relax before returning back to the thought you put on pause. So you were very confused as to why Tsireya was concerned with if you were okay or not.

“You just…seemed lost in thought.” She says, hands gently folding together in her lap. “I’ve noticed that your hair,” she points to your eyebrows, “come together when you’re thinking. Lo’ak does the same thing.”.

Your heart sped up at the mention of Lo’ak’s name, only for it to drop again once you realize who’s talking to you. Keep yourself in check (Y/N), you thought to yourself, you’re in the prescence of Lo’ak’s mate. Of course she knows things like that about him. You shouldn’t act like this.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine!” You reply, a half assed smile creeping up on your lips, not quite reaching your eyes like it usually does. There was no way in hell that you’d tell Tsireya what was going on inside your head. That wasn’t a burden she needed on her shoulders.

The girl didn’t look too convinced at your response but didn’t push it further. She only nodded and continued to look at you, big eyes studying your human features. Tsireya had rarely seen you around and when she did, it was very brief before you disappeared out of sight again. So she couldn’t help but look at you as you sat there. You were very pretty, she noted. No wonder Lo’ak fell so helplessly in love with her, she thought. Your beauty was something Tsireya had never seen before.

“Tsireya!” A gruff and deep voice shouted, catching the girls attention as she turned her back towards the voice. It was her Father.

“Oh. I’m sorry (Y/N), but I have to go. I do hope you feel better soon,” she quickly said before walking away, her tail swinging gently from side to side as she strides away.

The whole encounter you had with the girl made you even more confused and sad. She was so nice to you. She gave you no reason to hate her. But you couldn’t help but feel it as she left you there, longing for the life you could never have.

———

“You’re being so sulky,” Spider murmured, arms crossed as he watched you stare at your food in front of you.

Norm and Max had cooked dinner nearly two hours ago and you were the only one who hadn’t finished your plate. You didn’t have much of an appetite these days either. You were too occupied with thinking or trying to avoid Lo’ak at all costs to properly eat. You knew it wasn’t something you should be doing but you found yourself doing it anyway.

“You haven’t even talked to him! You don’t know if it’s true or not,” he continued, sick of seeing both you and Lo’ak moping around and avoiding each other at every turn. He’s told the both of you multiple times to just talk about it but the both of you were too stubborn for your own good.

You ignored Spider’s comment, rolling your eyes at the boy besides you. You really didn’t need him meddling in your business.

Your silence was Spider’s last straw as he slammed his hands against the metal table, surprising you and making you jump back at the action. Your plate shifted and jumped in its place, the fork clattering onto the floor.

“Fine. If neither of you want to talk this out on your own, then I’ll do it for you,” he exclaimed, jumping up from his seat and hauling you up from yours by your arm.

“Are you fucking crazy?” You screamed, trying to pry Spider’s fingers off of your bicep.

He only scoffed at your response and shook his head, leading you to the entrance of the lab that sat in the secluded parts of the island, tossing you a mask before shoving you out of the metal lab and out into the Pandora air.

Shortly after the events with Quaritch and the tulkun hunters, Norm and Max had decided that it would be best if they put one of their smaller labs on Awa’atlu for the two of you. It was definitely smaller than the lab you lived in at High Camp, but you didn’t complain. At least you had somewhere to go and hide whenever you didn’t want to see Lo’ak that particular day.

“You fucker!” You shouted, banging the flat of your palm up against the glass of the door. Spider only ignored your calls from the inside, eating your untouched food. You groaned in frustration as you watched the boy simply devour your cold food.

Rustling of leaves were heard from your right, making your heart stop in its confines in anxiety. Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly turned your head to see who or what caused the noise, especially this late at night. Your stomach dropped to the floor once you saw those familiar amber eyes peek out from behind a shrub.

“Lo’ak?” You whispered, not trusting your voice at the moment.

Upon hearing your voice, the culprit perked up, completely revealing themselves to you.

“Yawne?” He asked, unsure if he should move closer to you or stay where he was. Lo’ak had been craving to be in your presence ever since his brothers funeral. He only wanted you in his arms again and even though he had you back, he didn’t completely have you.

The two of you stood there, in front of each other for a while, neither of you daring to move closer or speak up first.

It was strange to see you after not having seen you for months. You looked the same but didn’t at the same time. Lo’ak didn’t know how he didn’t notice the first time he saw you on that ship. You looked more mature. Like you had seen or experienced something you shouldn’t have.

“How are you?” Lo’ak asks, finally breaking the awkward silence between the two of you.

You internally scoffed at that question, shaking your head as you did so. Yeah, I’m totally fine. Leaving me with your dead brother for hours didn’t do anything to me at all.

“Fine,” you answer, beginning to try to open the lab door with all your might, shaking the lock. Spider must’ve locked it from the inside or something, you thought, promising yourself that you would choke the boy out once you got back into the lab.

Lo’ak flinched at your rough voice and repetitive shaking of the door, ears drawing downwards as he watched. He’s never seen you act so violent before. Never seen you so desperate to get back into the lab. Usually, back in the forest, you’d do anything and everything to stay out of the lab for as long as you could. So to see you act the opposite made Lo’ak frown, especially since it was because he was out with you.

“Yawne,” Lo’ak tried again, taking a step closer to you before quickly drawing back as you scowled at him to stay where he was. “What is wrong? Talk to me, please,” the boy pleaded, tail falling limp between his legs.

“I told you. Nothing. Nothing is wrong,” you replied, eyes never leaving the stupid handle of the door you were trying to pry open.

Lo’ak knew you were lying. Something was most definitely wrong. He could see it in your eyes. How badly you wanted to share whatever was bothering you but something withheld you from uttering the words. It made him ever the more desperate to get you to talk to him.

The boy knew that showing up at the lab unannounced wasn’t going to get you to talk to him, especially since he too was also ignoring your existence. That he’d have to try harder in order to get you to speak with him.

“Yawne –”.

“Stop! Stop calling me that! I am not your yawne!” You shouted, ceasing your prying of the locked metal door. Hearing that term come out of his mouth made you want to cry. It made you want to scream, kick, and hit him for calling you that when you knew that he called another it. He had Tsireya to be his yawne. That was no longer a title you held.

Confusion and hurt spread itself across Lo’ak’s face, brows furrowing together in confusion. What did you mean? Why were you no longer his beloved?

“Why? Why not?” He shouted back, anger quickly arising within the teen boy. “What have I done to make you angry with me?” He asked, ears drawing further downward and pressing harder against the side of his skull.

You wanted to pull at your hair in frustration and anger. You just wanted to go inside and pass out before having to face the Sully family again. You wanted Lo’ak to leave you alone in your heartbreak. To stop haunting your dreams. To stop reminding you of the life you longed to have with him.

“Nothing and everything, Lo’ak!” You screamed, finally fed up, “You have done nothing and yet have done everything to upset me. First, you leave me with Neteyam for hours. You left me alone with the body of someone who I loved. You left me alone in my grieving. I had to wash away the blood and grime from his body as you did what? Fight Quaritch? Get Spider nearly killed? Then…then you touched her so lovingly. So gently. When you barely even spared me a glance. You comforted her and hugged her so tight to yourself that I couldn’t tell where you started and she ended.”.

“I only wanted you to comfort me. To hold me as I cried. But you were too busy with her. And I understand, Lo’ak. I do. As much as it pains me to realize and say it. I know that you and Tsireya are together, a thing. It’s as obvious as the mask that I need. And it’s okay. Really. I knew that whatever this was, it wasn’t going to last. I am human and you deserve so much more than what I can give you. I cannot give you children, make the bond with you, or even be properly considered one of the People. You deserve someone who could give you that. Give you everything and more. I mean, Tsireya is Tsakarem for crying out loud! She is much more suited to be your mate than I am, Lo’ak.”.

By the time you were finished with your speech, your chest was rising up and down dramatically, trying to gulp down air as quickly as the mask would let you. You knew that once you expressed your feelings and how you felt, it would change everything. So in order to ignore Lo’ak’s intense gaze and to prevent yourself from succumbing to the need to cry, you began your attempts at trying to open up the locked door or at least trying to get someone’s attention so they’d save you.

Your hands began to hit the door again, switching to messing with the door handle after a couple of beats pass with no one coming to your rescue.

“I confessed.” Lo’ak blurted out, desperation covered his face. His ears were fully up in alert, twitching at the sound of your hands stopping against the hard metal of the lab.

You stopped your movements, standing on the stairs of the lab in shock, trying to process the words that just came out of the boy's mouth. Confessed? What did he mean by confessed?

He needed you to know that what you were saying wasn’t true. That he wasn’t seeing Tsireya and that he’ll never see her in that light as he sees you. That his heart only held love for you and no one else. That your entire being consumed him heart, body, and soul.

“I told my Mother about us. About our relationship. About how much I love you. About how much I adore and see you. About that night at the Tree of Souls. I told her everything,” he rambled, tears clinging to his waterline as he tried to hurriedly blink them away. “She wasn’t happy about it, obviously. But, I didn’t care. I still don’t. Tsireya and I have never and will never be a thing. My heart only beats for you. My lungs only breathe for you. My body and soul only long for you. Everything is only ever for you, ma yawne. I hold so much love for you that it hurts. Did you know that the afternoon I heard of a young boy and girl being held captive at the Ta’unui clan, I almost immediately took off on my ilu to get you back? That I fought with my Sa’nok over you? That’s when I told her. Everyone heard and I don’t care that they did. I would scream out my love for you on the highest floating mountain if you asked me to. I’d do anything for you, (Y/N). Please, please believe that.”.

Lo’ak took in deep breaths once he finished his speech, desperately trying to fill his lungs with air after depriving them of it. He hoped that what he said was enough to get you to see how he felt about you, how he still felt about you. And if you didn’t, then he’d try again and again and again until he ran out of air to breathe. He needed you in his life. He didn’t care that you couldn’t bare him children or make tshaleyu with him. All he needed was you and that would be enough for all of his lifetimes.

“Lo’ak,” you croaked out, hot tears running down your cheeks and gathering at the bottom of your mask. You had no idea that he felt that strongly for you. Sure he mentioned some things from time to time but he never seemed this serious about it. You could feel the emotions of his words as they hit you square in the face.

“I don’t care if you can’t carry my children or that you can’t make the bond with me. I don’t. I only care that you’re in my life and that you love me just as much. You have been such a big part of my life for so long that I can’t imagine you not in it. Nga yawne lu oer,” Lo’ak finally finishes, kneeling on his two knees to get to your height, gently taking your softer hands in his rougher one’s.

All of the doubts you had about yourself and the relationship you had with the boy in front of you vanished the moment he touched you. Like everything else disappeared and it was only you two in the world.

“I am so sorry if it seemed like I had any interest in Tsireya, my love,” Lo’ak whispered, bringing your hands up to his lips as he pecked them with a kiss, “To be honest, I thought Spider and you were a thing as well.”.

At his confession, you bursted out laughing, not being able to hold in your reaction to the ridiculous thought.

“I know, I know,” Lo’ak tsked, shaking his head, “I had asked Spider about it and he had the same exact reaction. He wouldn’t shut up about it either, telling me how ridiculous I was for thinking such a thing. As well as how much of an idiot I was too.”.

“Well,” you hummed, taking your hands out of your boyfriends and placed them onto his blue cheeks, “I guess we’re both idiots then.”.

Lo’ak chuckled at your response, shaking his head as he finally brought you into his arms, immediately burying his head into the crook of your neck as he got a sniff of your dearly missed scent. Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck as he held you close, almost completely enveloping you in his body.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” you speak up, fingers running through Lo’ak’s braids. You felt bad for immediately assuming Lo’ak would move on that fast and get with Tsireya. You knew it wasn’t something he’d do but your overwhelming insecurities took over.

The Na’vi boy only hums, burying his head farther into your neck. “It’s okay,” he said, “I did the same. Nothing to stress about now. I got you back and that’s all that matters”.

The two of you sat there for what felt like only minutes but was hours in reality. The sun had begun to poke through the horizon, sunrise vastly approaching.

“Wanna go inside? We could spend the morning sleeping and cuddling if you want,” you suggest, eyelids getting droopy as your lack of last nights sleep began to catch up with you. You shifted your head so it laid on Lo’ak’s shoulder, yawning as you did so.

Your lover only nodded in agreement, delicately moving into the small lab and removing your mask from your face, placing a kiss on your forehead as you began to snore in Lo’ak’s arms. He smiled down at you before making his way to your established room, content with how the night turned out.

As he gently laid you in the soft bed and tucked the both of you in, he knew that he’d gladly spend the rest of his life with you so as long as you pleased. That there was no one else but you that he truly saw himself with. The teen would do anything for you, no matter what it entailed.

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taetr4ck · 7 months

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Can i request a drabble about how skz will treat you like a princess as their s/o?

Also, can i be "💌" anon?

and all these little things —

he who loves, dances upon the tapestry of stars.

skz!hyung line x reader, 1.1k words overall, brief mention of struggling with food (nothing descriptive) — fluff, comfort, a sprinkle of angst. maknae line here

a/n : hi of course my love !!! the moment i received this ask i never opened my laptop this fast LMFAOOOOOOOOO and yes of course, you can be 💌 anon! welcome to my blog, and i hope you enjoy this request !! ily <3 and pardon me for breaking this into two parts ,, i’ve been itching to post this 😭 my attention span is actually comparable to a goldfish 😞 but the maknae line is almost finished! just need to sprinkle some spice here and there

bang chan who acknowledges your inner child —

A promise — a promise Chan swore to himself that he would love every inch and aspect of you, including your inner child that was once abandoned and neglected. He never failed to make you feel loved, a love one can’t find anywhere else – a love that was made for you. He’s lovely, he’s lovely. His affection makes your whole being buttery, smoothly melting in his touch. His love is different from anyone else’s – it’s as if your heart bloomed with flowers that smell like him, and the surroundings suddenly light up when he enters the room.

He never neglected you. Not even once. His gaze is always fixated on you every time you talk – your voice is a sweet melody to him as if every word you say is coated with honey.

Tap, tap, tap. The gentle taps of his finger on your skin when you feel like the world is deceiving you give you a sense of comfort – accompanied by an arm wrapping around your defeated, exhausted body, keeping you safe and understood. The familiar gesture and warmth seeping into your skin keep you grounded amidst your sobs, those sobs that never fail to make his heart shatter every time you surrender your tired soul to him. He whispers sweet mumbles in your ear, as if his only goal is to protect you. He is love, he is solace itself.

He is the aurora that loves in what in you is unfinished, the aurora that embraces the little child in the shackles of your healing heart. The world may be against you, but you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine; he’s always here.

lee know who cooks a hearty meal for you —

There was never a day when Minho didn’t cook for you. The living space is always surrounded by the aroma of his cooking – making your stomach growl with anticipation. He smiles as he hands you a bowl full of your favorite food, looking at you with stars in his eyes. The simple gesture is enough to make your heart flutter, tugging at every string. Eating the meal together that he wholeheartedly made is enough for him to die a happy man – for him, it’s more than enough. Sharing a meal together is a love language, his love language.

When he’s away, he sends you recipes for you to make on your own. It reminds you of the times he always cooked for you – your arms wrapped around his waist, leaning on the circle of his back. His warmth may be absent at the moment, but his love and familiarity still permeate through the quiet shared space. You will see him soon, just wait a little longer.

In times when eating isn’t an option, silently working at the desk in your shared bedroom, Minho is always here to remind you to eat. He knows the feeling of working on an empty stomach, and he doesn’t want you to experience the same agony. From hourly fruit snacks to full meals delivered right to your table, he never fails to make you feel as if you deserve to be cared for. You deserve to be cared for. It’s as if he’s an angel in disguise, destined only for you to pamper and nurture. In times when you can’t take care of yourself, he does it for you. He plays the role he chose, to cherish and love you as a whole.

changbin who never lets you lift a hand —

The living embodiment of chivalry, as they always say about him. Changbin never lets you lift a hand – not even a finger. The door of his car, the door of your favorite restaurant, the bags of groceries with a cute backstory – Changbin giggles and smiles at you every time you pick something from the grocery shelf, red hearts evident in both of his eyes, showing how lovestruck he is – completely captivated by you.

Changbin goes to the extent of even carrying your things – your pretty handbag, your school or work backpack – he doesn’t want you to strain even a fiber of your muscle. Heck, he’d even carry you if he wanted to. Whatever it is, he got you.

He loves to serve you, and he's sworn to be devoted to you. Love always has a center, and it’s you who centers his heart and his whole being. You’re his princess, and he is the knight. The knight who’s willing to do anything, ready to carry it all – he’s willing to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if that's what it takes to be with you. He doesn’t want anything in return; he just wants you to stay by his side and let him take care of the rest. He adores you more than you'll ever know, and he surely knows he was made for you.

hyunjin who notices every detail —

He who notices everything — your hair, your perfume, the shade of your new lipstick – everything. Nothing can escape Hyunjin’s loving gaze, as if his eyes were made to look at you – to worship every inch of your skin, to tell you you’re beautiful, beautiful that he can ever endure. He looks at you as if you were the only thing that matters to him. You’re beautiful. He looks at you like you are more than the pain you’ve ever endured. You don’t understand why, but he never fails to make you feel things – tugging heartstrings every time he utters his worship, your skin heating to the feel of his feathery touch – his touch that feels like home, his kisses that feel like a sanctuary.

“You’re so beautiful,” those are exactly the words he always says. Every time you wake up, gaze still unsteady; every time you two go out for a date, every time you’re stressed – hair disheveled, dark circles evident under your eyes. And even when you’re in slumber – whispering his never-ending devotion beside your sleeping figure, full of content and peace. His tone is full of sincerity, making your heart flutter with tenderness and adoration. His love makes you overwhelmed, but that’s only because his love is always honest.

Hyunjin spent most of his life running away from love until you gave him the courage to try. It’s like you’re the rose that suddenly bloomed in a garden full of camellias. After a long time of suffering from longing and madness, love was finally bestowed upon him. The first bite of your pure and genuine love seemed to have taken him aback; each bite overwhelming to the core. Your sudden entrance into his life silenced the monsters in his mind – ceasing every inch of darkness surrounding within. He didn’t prepare, he was never prepared. You’re his light, providing love and sunshine with no end. He’s a hopeless romantic, after all. Except that it’s not hopeless anymore.

taglist: @agi-ppangx @skzstarnet / taglist form

⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open

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takumifujiwarastan · 6 months

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"look at me, not him."

pairings: megumi fushiguro x best friend!reader contents: jealousy, sprinkle of angst, a bit suggestive, reader has a bit of traumatic past but not too many details. no established relationship (yet)!

594 words

a/n: very self indulgent bc i js wanted to write for mah boi megumi <3

he couldn't hate yuji.

he couldn't hate the fact that he was stealing your attention away from him more and more with each passing day.

that the small smiles only he could see were now becoming regular when you were around the pink haired boy.

of course, he's more than happy that you're smiling. the shell that had been enclosing you for so long was finally starting to break in the company of safe people who cared about you.

he just wished it was him who made you smile like that.

since when did he start wishing that? he couldn't remember. he couldn't count the days he's spent thinking about you. the nights he spent dreaming about you. you somehow slithered your way into his mind along with every thought that whizzed by.

it used to be just you and him. being unofficially 'adopted' by gojo a few years after he was, you'd come to know him most your whole life. he knew everything about you. he knew the background you came from. the pain you suffered. every hit you took. every time you got back up and kept going.

he missed the days of just him and you. lazy afternoons in each others' dorm rooms, spent basking in the warmth of the sun that shone through the window and talking about whatever. sleepless rainy nights that ended with you in his arms, your breathing in sync with his as the rain pattered against the glass of the window.

and the rare smiles he got to see from you whenever you were with him. him. not yuji.

and its yuji you're waiting for now, as you stand patiently at the end of the hallway, where he said he would meet you after showering and changing after training.

megumi's sharp eyes narrow at the sight of you waiting for someone other than him yet again. without even a second thought he starts padding down the wood floor of the dorm hall.

"y/n." he breathes out, stopping just a few feet from you. you look up at him, meeting his eyes that seem to carry unfamiliar emotion behind them.

"hey..." you reply softly. "you alright?" the question falls from your lips so innocently, in such a clueless matter he can't be upset that you aren't spending time with him. his eyes soften at this, then closing them with a sigh.

his fists then ball up at his sides upon hearing yuji's voice at the other end of the hall. he turns his head and shoots him a menacing look, to which the peach haired boy with widened eyes retreated back to his dorm.

you turn your head and watch as yuji goes back into his room, shutting the door hastily. "megumi, me and yuji were going to-" your irritated tone is cut off when a hand is brought up to your face, tilting your head back towards the raven haired boy as he crashes his lips into yours, a small gasp escaping your lips when your back hits the wall. his free hand is seated on your waist, gripping feverishly as he deepens the kiss.

he pulls back a few moments after, looking into your eyes with a fiery anger yet desperate longing at the same time. his hand holds your face so softly, tenderly, contrary to the emotions brewing inside him. his thumb brushing over your cheekbone so delicately, as if you were fragile as glass. you can almost hear the yearning in his voice when he breathes out;

"look at me, not him."

do u want a part 2?

#jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu megumi #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #x reader fanfiction #tumblr stuff #writers on tumblr #post #megumi x you #megumi x y/n

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 7 months

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Using Safe Words - Metallica pt.1

A/n: Basically just scenario's where a safe word is used and how Metallica members would react. This is only James, Lars and Kirk, if you'd like to the bassists or other bands even let me know :3

Link to part 2

Warnings: Smut, angst, use of a safe word, rough sex, sex toys, if you think you won't be comfortable reading that that's fine protect yourself before reading content :3 Also, if there's anything you think I missed let me know!

James had you bent in half on the couch. He had had a rough day at the studio, everyone was just on his ass and in his face and it was driving him crazy, so when he got home you offered to help him destress. Only you hadn’t anticipated this...

Don’t get me wrong, James was always on the rougher side of things but this was pushing it. He’d been manhandling you and pulling more orgasms out of you than your body could take at this point. It didn’t matter how sensitive you were, how weak or overstimulated you were, James just didn’t stop and your begs and pleads only seemed to fuel his need for dominance.

His hips were slamming against your at an unholy as he held your knees to your chest. “Fuck, pretty little slut, barely keeping your eyes open?” Your eyes were rolling back, your brain was practically useless at this point and you were shaking uncontrollably underneath James. James slapped you across the face, hard. You cried out but he didn’t care and did it again. “Fucking look at me when I’m railing you.” He ordered.

“Ja-Jamie, Jamie, please!” You sobbed, tears streaming down your red face. “Can’t-can’t take it, please!”

“Whiny whore.” He groaned, slapping you again. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Pumpkin.” You sputtered, your voice was weak and he barely heard it. James laughed and stared down at your weak form.

“What was that? Gotta speak up, bitch.”

“Pum-pumpkin, please, pumpkin!” You sobbed, tossing and turning. James froze, any cold demeanour he had vanished in an instant.

“What was that?” He asked, his voice now basically a whisper. You didn’t respond and just continued sobbing. James slowly pulled out and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” He littered kisses all over your face, soft and gentle ones. He wiped the tears from your eyes and held you close. “I’m so, so sorry, love, how about I run you a nice warm bath, yeah? Then we can watch a movie or something, how does that sound?” You gave a small nod and he carried you to the bathroom.

He never let go of you while he got the bath ready, sprinkling in smelling salts, lighting a few candles and even adding in rose petals. Fake ones he was saving for a special occasion but he felt you needed them now more than anything.

“Do you want me to get leave?” He asked once he got you in the tub. You shook your head.

“Just-just hold me.” Your voice was still shaky as you mumbled. “Please.” James smiled and got in with you, pulling you close to his chest. He continued to whisper praises and apologise in your ear, pressing soft kisses all over your face and asking if you’re ok.

Lars was always a dick. He’d refuse to let you cum or make you cum so much you couldn’t remember your own name. Then there’d be times when he would only focus on his own pleasure and completely disregard whether you finished or not. Usually, this was just to annoy you, rile you up and what not, plus there’d always be days when he was just perfect for you, making sure everything was just right. He’d have his moments, for sure.

Today was nothing like anything he’s put you through. He’d just come back from a tour with Metallica and said he was all pent up. Of course you understood, you’d been feeling just the same, and so you ended up in the bedroom.

Your wrists and ankles were tied to the bedposts. Lars had two vibrators in either of your holes, with one perfectly pressed against your clit. Lars was pistoning himself in and out of your mouth, not caring if you could breathe or not. You were gagging, not necessarily because of him but just because you needed air, he didn’t care either way, he just enjoyed the noises coming from you like sweet music to his ears.

“Fuck, so good for me.” Lars moaned out, throwing his head back in pleasure. Your whole body was hot and tight, not in the usual way. The high speed vibrations, the stretch you never welcomed, Lars standing over you and being unable to even try to move through all of it just made everything hurt. Painful, is what it was.

You tried to choke something out but the words couldn’t form around Lars. “Oh, I’m sorry, what was that?” He asked with a grin, pulling out enough for you to talk.

“Please, just-” You didn’t get a chance to finish as Lars slammed himself right back past your lips. Again you gagged while he cackled above you. You pulled and thrashed against the restraints but every move just made the feelings down below so much worse.

Lars pulled out again, still snickering. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you wanna try again?” He asked, you knew he’d just do it again so you blurted out the only thing you thought could get him to stop.

“Pump-!” Again he cut you off. This time his laughter was short-lived when he processed what you were trying to say.

“Wait, what?” He asked, moving completely off of you. He held your face as he always did, caressing your cheek.

“Pumpkin, please, pumpkin!” You sobbed, writhing at the pain coursing through you. Lars immediately panicked, rushing to take everything off and out of your. As soon as you were able to, you pushed yourself to the corner of the bed, curling in on yourself as you cried, trying to forget what you just experienced.

Lars came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was that bad.” His voice was soft and a little shaky. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why-why would you-would you do that to me?” You asked through quiet sobs. He shook his head, nuzzling against you.

“I didn’t-I don’t-I just-” He started and stopped his sentences before just giving up. “I’m so, so sorry, love.” He held you a little longer before getting up and walking out of the room. He returned a few minutes later with a cloth and started wiping you down. The cloth was coarse and rough against you. You snatched it out of his hand and started cleaning yourself off in a more delicate fashion. “I’m sorry, can I just-” He reached for it again but you turned away from him. He gave a small nod and went to the closet.

You watched him dig through the clothes, tears making your vision a little blurry and you couldn’t stop sniffling. Lars came back to you, standing beside the bed and holding out clothes for you to take. One of his band shirts and a pair of his sweats. You looked between him and the clothes in his hands for a moment before taking them and slowly getting them on. “My body hurts.” You muttered, voice shaky.

“I’m sorry.” He said again. “I can set up a movie for us? A bubble bath? Whatever you want.” You thought about it for a moment before giving a small nod.

“A movie sounds nice.” Lars smiled at you and rushed off to set up a movie for the two of you in the living room.

A few weeks ago Kirk had brought up the idea of having a threesome to which you immediately turned down, that was not up your alley at all. Kirk dropped it when he saw how much you disliked the idea and for a while you thought that was the end of it.

Kirk brought you on tour with him, it was just for a week for his birthday and you intended to spend as much time with him as you could during his special day. The two of you finally had some alone time in your hotel room and were watching a movie, he kept touching up your leg and teasing you a bit, so you decided to indulge and have some fun.

You were straddling his lap, your tongues exploring each other’s mouth as you interchanged moans and groans. Kirk’s hands were roaming your body, groping your ass. He’d have his hands on your hips and pull you down while grinding the tent in his pants against you, drawing more sounds out of the both of you.

Everything was fine until you heard a deep groan that didn’t sound anything like Kirk, plus it was coming from the other side of the room. You pulled away, Kirk went to kiss your neck, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin. You glanced over your shoulder and saw James in a chair not far away with his cock in his hand, slowly stroking it up and down.

Fear shot through you and you pushed yourself off of Kirk, looking between him and the lead singer. “What the fuck?!”

“What?” Kirk asked, looking genuinely concerned for you. “You said no threesome so I figured James could just watch.” He explained. You can hear it in his tone that he’s doubting the idea as he says it. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. With no verbal disagreement Kirk leaned over to you again and kissed you. You slapped him. He didn’t look confused or hurt, just a little sad that he made you uncomfortable.

“Fucking pumpkin! I told you when you brought it up the first time, why would this be ok?!” He didn’t say anything and just looked down at the sheets. You scoffed and stormed out of the room and into the bathroom, taking a moment to breathe and just get yourself calmed down.

Several minutes pass and you hear a knock on the door. “Sweetheart?” Kirk called, his voice soft. “Can I, uh, can I come in?” You waited a moment before opening the door, holding yourself and pouting at him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told James that it was ok without talking about it with you.”

“You shouldn’t have even talked to him about it knowing that I wasn’t comfortable with stuff like that!” You argued. Kirk nodded and looked down again.

“Look, why don’t you take the bed and-and I’ll sleep in the tub.” He suggested, even taking a step around you to get to the small bath.

“Why would you do that?”

“I figured, you know, you wouldn’t want to share a bed with me after-” He paused and took a seat on the edge of the bath. “After that.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, it was really dumb, I promise it won’t happen again.” You nodded and sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I still want you to sleep in bed with me.” You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers together. “Sleep isn’t the same when I know I can’t steal your blankets.” You smiled up at him.

“I think I’d prefer the tub.” He chuckled. Kirk pulled you closer and kissed your forehead.

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mrsnancywheeler · 7 months

Text

i know places // finnick odair x f.reader

request: Hiii, for the celebration could you do a soulmate au with Finnnick? Maybe after reader has won her games? Fluff pls but I don't mind some angst sprinkled in too. Thank you and I love your writing <3

masterlist

3k words

warnings: soulmate au, matching scars, closed off and guarded!reader, nearly instant love, attempted fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, self-destructive behavior, trust issues, lovesick finnick, cocky finnick, unreliable narrator reader, unedited, no use of y/n, no sight of a slowburn anywhere, mentions of blood/violence/death

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You didn't win with your charm. Before the games there was no popularity because of your interview with Caesar, the only semblance of any likeability was from your somewhat impressive training score, a 10. Regardless of what Panem wanted, your survival skills had come into clutch and brought you straight to the crown. A rare underdog winning the games. According to your mentor though the press had begun spinning you as meek when they'd realized you were in the top eight. You hadn't been the only tribute who tried it lone wolf and it conflicted with another story, so you were instead supposed to be quiet, gentle, and that's why you kept to yourself. Not because your district partner had attacked you night two, after claiming he would take watch, only for you to overtake him instead.

So now, post your victory they expected you to lean into the role, which didn't come naturally. Not when all you wanted to do was stop performing, scrub off your skin which still carried the weight of dirt and blood even if you'd taken plenty of showers since your return, and under the warm blankets of your bed. Maybe if you didn't feel so guilty and numb it would be easier to play at, but now everyone wanted a piece of you. You'd much rather they get bored of you.

Instead you'd been dragged out to a Capitol celebration before your return back home. The interview, the crowning, apparently hadn't been enough because no matter how they tried to make you seem, you were too guarded for them to get a good read on who you were. You didn't want them to know who you were, they'd already stolen you from your home, dolled you up, and forced you to fight to survive against the other dolls. Leaving your hands forever bloodstained and the screams ringing in your ears. Yet the dollhouse had not burned down when the cannon went off, they'd just deadbolted the doors. Who knew what other demented games they'd force you to play if they were given a chance to see inside your brain. So the walls stayed firmly up as you planted yourself firmly in a nook somewhere and the bustling of the party.

The dress was itchy, the shoes pinched at your feet, the way they'd styled your hair had every nerve on your scalp screaming for freedom, and the drink smelt too sickly sweet for one to even fathom sipping on. People would be looking to hound you, to find a reaction, and hopefully you could just disappear into the brick. Although fate seemed to have other plans.

“Mind if I join you?" You looked up, dreading having to talk to someone. What would you even say without revealing too much? Then of course you hadn't expected it to be the Capitol darling, Finnick Odair, himself.

He was an attention grabber. Too beloved, too shiny, wherever he went the moths were soon to follow. Which was the last thing you needed, curse Finnick Odair if he brought attention to you. “Yes, I do mind." ‘Leave. Let me see how long I can sit here until anyone approaches, let them be distracted by the wealth around them so they leave me be.’ Your brain, foot tapping the cobblestone.

He laughed, that swoon worthy smirk taking over his face. Warmth, an inviting aura radiated off of him, but you despised it at this moment. The audacity he had felt unmatched when he slid into the nook anyways. You'd met him less then a minute away and he was already being nothing less than cockily malicious. Although you shouldn't have been surprised, that's how people described him. Maybe the worst part was that some deep part of you said that it was okay, that it was right. Which was a ridiculous thought, it had barely been anytime at all.

“Do you scowl like that whenever people try to talk to you, honey?" Finnick took a bite out of whatever pastry he was holding, something extravagant, brushed with flakes of gold. He held it out, “You should try it, it's sweet like you're supposed to be."

You said nothing, if he was going to insist on being here then you certainly weren't going to reward his efforts. No, you weren't going to even look at him, your arms crossed as you kept tapping your foot. He'd get bored of you and leave eventually, if what they said was true he was bound to find someone sparklier to play with. Even if some part of you would've been okay being his shiny new toy, no that was ridiculous, however you could make the allowance that everyone had hormones so it was only natural to be feeling like this. Of course he'd be this way, the man who supposedly had no soulmate, who could play with as many hearts as he wanted because in the end there apparently was no one out there for him. What a sad existence. Thinking about it almost made you feel bad for him, but you couldn't feel that much pity when he was so close to leading the vultures right to you.

“They're gonna find you eventually, you can't hide out here forever." He was terrible, insufferable. You glowered at him and his smirk widened. “There's no point in being miserable when they're going to do this until the next games. Might as well make the most of it.” Then like he had the right to be the most entitled man in the world took the glass right out of your hand and took a drink. You hated it here, hated how people acted, that you had no one, and most of all hated the way it made you feel. Like he was the only person you should've ever paid attention to. “Didn't seem like you were gonna drink it, you can still have some if you change your mind." You didn't make a move to grab the glass, “Didn't think so." Damn him and his attitude, and his perfect teeth, and the way it made your soul feel fulfilled for some odd reason. Which was nothing less than outrageous since all he'd done in the past couple minutes was drive you up the wall. Then the voices of chatter outside got louder, ‘Shit, shit shit,’ you thought. His magnetism was going to guide them straight to you. He could seemingly tell that this put you on edge because he put a single finger on his lips, a ‘shhh.’ This only served to irk you more, of course you knew to be quiet, this was his fault.

Soon enough the voices began fading again and you were ever so grateful. “Get out." You muttered, burrowing yourself further into the corner.

“This is where I usually take my breathers, not my fault you found it too." He shrugged. How a person managed to look so perfect you'd never know and didn't want to if it made them act like him.

“You've taken more than enough breaths, so you can go now."

"Honey, being a victor is all about who you know. You need good connections or your reputation will eat you alive.”

You glared,"I'll make good connections when they finally find me, but not right now.”

He looked at you with pity, you despised that he felt the right to pity you, but it felt so nice for someone to finally look at you like you weren't in need of congratulations."It takes most of us a couple months to start hating the attention, the realization hit you quicker didn't it?” There was no way he expected you to open up to him, yes you wanted to, but you couldn't. Nobody could be trusted, that was the first lesson the arena really taught you. “Being standoffish isn't going to stop them, it'll only make them see you as a problem victor, and I promise you that's the last thing you want."

Your voice unintentionally softened,"What do you want?”

"To make sure you're gonna be okay, everyone needs someone backing their side in this arena.” This arena. A different, more social one, because you'd never be able to escape. For someone who ticked you off in every sense within a minute, just as fast he'd begun chipping away at your walls.

"You don't want to back my side.”

"Yeah, I do.” Your face was still stony, even if you felt like your stomach was less anxious about being caught and more butterflies. Of course the first man who gave you attention would make you nearly lose resolve. No, he had to want something, be playing some game.

"No one wants to bet on the losing dog.”

"Good thing you're not losing, honey. And believe it or not, maybe there's just something about you.”

"You don't know me.”

"I know and that's what's weird about it.” There was a crease forming on his furrowed brow. “Come on, you should go make an appearance."

There was no way to step back, but you tried. Heel pushing out of the shoe, but you made no move to push it back in. You were too defensive, as long as you could hide you would. “No." You shook your head.

He sighed, “You don't even have to be you, make up a persona, but you have to do something or things will get worse." No, you couldn't bear to let people peer into you, it was terrible that Finnick was even getting a taste of it. You'd only make them hate you more anyways, they'd only grow to realize it would've been better to have anyone but you. “I'll go with you, take the attention off." Maybe that would work, but then what might people think? That you were the type of person easily won over by charming looks and cocky smirks, maybe you were, but that wasn't the point.

However, you did let yourself contemplate it. You couldn't reasonably hide here all night, and his charisma could make up for what you lacked. Plus, even if you hated to admit it, if there was anyone you'd want to stick by you, to tell you everything would be alright, it would be him. It didn't make sense why you felt this way and you almost felt guilty for how crazy it made you sound. It was a miracle he even wanted to stick around when you were being so bitchy, but he was an ass, so it must have evened out.

“I don't need you to stick around me." You lied through your teeth, it was better than making him think that reliance was a vulnerability of yours. Even if it was. Even if it looked like he had the kind of arms you could cry into, you hadn't cried yet, but this was all so overwhelming it felt like you might.

Finnick looked a little wounded, but there was more pity. Like he knew you were biting to try and keep yourself safe, like you were still in survival mode. “I get it, if you change your mind, just look my way." Yet he stood still like he was waiting for you to move first, making sure you didn't just hide away the whole night. Which you would've, if it could become part of the wall you'd thank it for the opportunity. You stared back until finally the tension of the silence became so palpable that you forced yourself to move. Rather unceremoniously as you'd forgotten the way your heel was still sticking out of the shoe and tumbled right out of the rest of it.

“Fuck!" You quietly exclaimed and Finnick was quick to assist you. You wished he hadn't because the moment he touched you it was as if rays of sunlight were buzzing through your veins, like your soul was ascending.

“Oh, I got you!"

“I'm fine." You pushed him off, so the feeling would stop. It was awful, it was weird, there was no plausible reason you should feel like this. Unless…no that was ridiculous.

“Sorry." But sorry didn't make up for the residual waves of electricity, or the way your heart pounded. Or how terrible it was that you wanted to feel it again. "Here let me get your shoe.” Then his nice dress pants were on the dirty cobblestone and you felt bad thinking about how they could get ruined.

"It's okay-” But then he was pausing at your foot, and the sunlight in your blood was back even stronger as his fingers began tracing something on your foot.

"What's that?”

You tried to pull your foot away but his fingertips chased after it, "It's nothing, just the stupid soulmate scar." It wasn't stupid, never had been to you, but it was better to protect your feelings. Finnick laughed, “What?" You asked, finally pulling your foot completely away.

“Oh my god, I'm an idiot. Of course I wanted to talk to you." He kept laughing and then was abruptly pulling off his shoe.

“What are you doing?" He didn't respond as he finally pried the shoe off and the sock.

“Look, they're the same. Oh my god, I found you!" His laughter was certain to alert someone with the way it carried with the breeze, it should've annoyed you more than it did, but it was like music when it passed through your ears.

“What're you talking about?" He playfully rolled his eyes and then his hand was pulling you down on the ground with him. And despite the dirt that would get on your dress, the electric sunshine felt too good to pull away. So you sat in the pile of your dress on the ground and let him guide your feet together.

“Look at that, honey. Look at that." You would've asked what he wanted you to look at, but it quickly became obvious. Two scars, in the same place, the same size, you shared that scar with Finnick Odair. He, the Finnick Odair, who you'd just met and had already pushed you through an array of emotions, was your soulmate. The part of you that had been gnawing in the back of your brain was celebrating in ‘I told you so’s.’

“Oh.” You traced over them slowly, trying to let it sink in. Suddenly you had a soulmate, well you always had, but he was right there. Suddenly things would be alright, and maybe the universe wanted to spite you because you'd always imagined that was the person you'd finally have to open up to. Here he was, the man you'd been actively pushing away the help of.

"Is that a good, oh?” He asked and you felt bad for how you could feel a slight worry in his voice.

"I thought you didn't-”

"I lied, the nick on my foot was from swimming, and it helped the people who wanted to fawn over me. Almost convinced myself it was true though, but here you are.”

"What're you trying to do here?” You couldn't trust him, even if it felt right, even if he made your heart swell. No, this wasn't right, you were just you, and he was Finnick Odair.

Now though it was as if he could read you like a book, like all your guarded insecurities were on a display. It was a horrendous and gratifying experience to be known, to be perceived. "I'm not trying to do anything, honey, we're just meant to be. Not playing at anything, promise." So you sat there in the pile of fabric on the floor, cold stone giving you goosebumps as you stared at him. This was it, there was no need to be cautious because it was meant to be. Why would someone betray their own soulmate? He definitely didn't seem like the type.

“Okay." You finally exhaled and he smiled so wide that it made it worth it. Your walls have been somewhat successfully picked at because you let him embrace you. In fact, you let yourself relax in his arms.

“You're real, you're really real." He held you like you might slip away in a dream. “So pretty, so smart, and real!" He buried his head in your shoulder. It felt good to let someone care about you like this and it made you feel better about how instantly attracted you'd been. You'd probably look back and hate yourself for it, but you felt yourself crying. "Hey, hey, what's wrong, honey?”

You shook your head and he wiped one away, letting you hide in his chest. He was so warm, it felt so right, like the sunshine feeling would never go away. "You meant what you said earlier right? You'll stick by me?"

It felt so right when his hands traced up and down the back of your neck, “Of course, honey, won't leave your side. I got you."

God, this was embarrassing. "Sorry.” You pulled away and he shook his head.

"You're okay, don't worry, that's what this is for. We're here for each other.”

You nodded slowly, sinking into his deep eyes, you'd never seen the ocean, but you imagined that's what it would look like. "I should go make my appearance now.” Before you said another thing he had your shoe back on your foot and his on as well. Pulling you up to help you stand. "Promise to stay?" It felt pathetic, but also like he was the one you were supposed to turn to.

“Promise. I'll never leave your side, honey." Finnick squeezed your hand and maybe you could now face the world. The universe had gifted you, at your lowest point, your soulmate in a matter of minutes. Someone who could already seemingly read you like a book and made your heart beat like there was a racket happening, and you knew that you'd finally be able to just truly be you with someone. Through thick and thin, through the highest highs and lowest lows, suddenly you knew you had each other.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading, I tried to make this fluffy but honestly it's kind of a struggle so I hope it's up to standard. as always if you enjoyed feedback, comments, reblogs, likes, are all very, very appreciated. asks and requests are both open and I love you all 💋

@wowzabowza69

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair fanfic #finnick fanfic #finnick imagine #finnick x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick x you #finnick x y/n

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asumofwords · 1 year

Text

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Well hello there my babies, hehe here is the little mini series I have begun for a modern!Aemond roommate AU. I'm super excited to explore this side of things as I have mostly been putting my focus into SFA. Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Hehe, slowish burn too <3 Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Christmas Beetle

The key scratched against the metal of the lock, your hand turning it as you opened the door to your flat, the smell of cooking curling around you as you stepped inside. From the kitchen you could hear your roommate Helaena humming to the music that played out of your speaker.

“Hel!” You called out, dropping your keys into the dish by the door, toeing your shoes off as you moved inside the apartment.

“In here!” Helaena sang back.

You moved your way down the hall, dropping your bag on the dining room table as you moved towards the kitchen.

Helaena stood barefooted in a singlet and pair of matching underwear. Her long silver hair piled atop her head, held together by a large butterfly clip.

“Whatcha cooking, good looking?” You asked, walking up behind Helaena who reached out to turn down the speaker that was currently playing Lana Del Reys ‘West Coast’.

Helaena turned her head, small silver butterfly earrings dangling from her ears, “Bolognese!”

The room smelt of cooking onion and tomato, and you breathed in deeply as she reached forward to put in some cut up carrots and celery inside of the ceramic large pot.

“Yum. God I love you.” You sighed, leaning back against the counter as you watched her stir in the ingredients, “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Absolutely nothing.” She grinned, reaching forward for the salt, sprinkling it atop, “Who else would feed you if I didn’t?”

“Hey! I can cook.” You frowned.

Helaena laughed loudly, “Mi Goreng doesn’t count.”

“I’ll have you know I can cook more than that.” You crossed your arms around your chest as you kicked a foot out to hit her shin softly.

Helaena jumped back, “Don’t be mean to the chef or you won’t get anything.”

You bowed, arm out in a dramatic flair, “Apologies, Your Grace.”

“Cut it out.” She pouted, “How was work?”

Hopping up on the counter, you groaned, “Don’t get me started. Larys was on my ass the whole day. Remind me why I work there again?”

“Because you need the money, and I got you the job.”

“It wasn’t just you that got me the job.” You grunted, “I have a great resume.”

“Of course you do.”

Tossing your head back against the cabinets you looks at the cream ceiling, “Ugh, how do you deal with Larys at all? He’s such a fucking creep. I swear he is always looking at me with those beady little eyes. You know the only time he has ever been nice to me was when he complimented my new shoes.” You scrunched your nose up at the thought.

Your boss Larys Strong was a man who made your skin crawl. Lanky, with a crooked build, the brunette man always had a way of getting under your skin, and you could always feel his eyes on you when you worked in the office. He hovered around other workers, asking personal questions and prying into everyone else’s personal lives, and yet you knew next to nothing about the man. A complete energy vampire.

“I’m sure he’s not that bad. Mum hasn’t said anything about him and she works with him.” Helaena pointed out, bringing the spoon to her lips to try to sauce. She hummed loudly as she dipped it again, hand beneath it as she offered you a try.

You leant forward blowing on the spoon softly as steamed poured off of it, “Yeah, but your mum isn’t the most observant person, Hel.” You sucked the sauce into your mouth, eyes closing as you moaned loudly, “Oh my god. This is heaven. If you weren’t my best friend I would marry you.”

Helaena blushed and took the spoon back from you, swatting your thigh on the bench, “That ship has sailed.”

You laughed loudly at the memory, “How was I supposed to know you were hitting on me? You said I looked like a Christmas beetle.”

“Christmas beetles are beautiful.” Helaena said indignantly, “They have many different colours and shades, and in the sun they glow.”

“Don’t you go soft on me, Hely.” You teased, kicking your legs against the cabinet with a thunk, “Besides, you can’t butter me up with this home cooked meal no matter how good it is. I can’t believe you’re leaving me here alone.” You whined, throwing your head back, “And on break too!”

“Life is a cruel mistress.” She mocked you, “You won’t even notice I’m gone." A pale hand waved itself at you in the air in dismissal, "It’s only for the month, maybe even less than that. You know I have to go see Daeron, he’s been studying at Old Town all by himself, the poor thing.”

“Yeah well, not all of us can get into the prestigious Old Town University.” You huffed, “And I will notice you’re gone, who will cook me dinner?”

“I thought you said you could cook.”

“Hel, you wound me.” You grabbed the front of your shirt above your heart dramatically.

Helaena snorted, “Suck it up. Besides, my brother is going to sublet the room for the month so you won’t be alone.”

“Hel,” You whispered, head tilted in uncertainty, “Please don’t tell me Aegon is moving in. I love you, you know this, but your brother is a sex pest. Last time he came over he called me a Gazelle.”

“A Gazelle?”

“Said I have long legs.” You grimaced.

“Ugh. Gross. He is such a manwhore.” You hummed in agreement as Helaena scrunched her face up, mouth open in disgust, “But no, Aemond is going to sublet the room.”

“Hel, that isn’t any better. Aemond?” You began, leaning forward as you looked at her uneasily, “'Can’t pry a word out of the man', Aemond? 'Messy break up with his crazy ex', Aemond? Hel are you punishing me?”

“Be nice.” She slapped your arm, adding fresh basil into the pot that simmered gently, “Aemond is sweet once you get to know him. He’s just shy.”

“The last time I spoke to him, I asked him how his day was and he just hummed at me. He hummed.”

Helaena laughed.

“It’s not funny, Hel! Who the hell just hums like that?”

A small laugh floated through her nose, “Look, Aemond was the only one I could get to sublet the room in such short notice. Especially someone I trust. Plus, he needs to get away from Harrenhal and move back to Kings Landing. Alys has really done a number on him, and I think if he gets some time away from her he will see it’s better that way.”

“Can't you ask your mum to cover the rent? You’re not exactly scraping by.”

The Targaryens were richer than most, descended from ancient royalty, even owning an island called Dragonstone, a short boat ride away from shore, where a large fortress sat atop. Helaena would sometimes go for the summer to see her cousins, and had even taken you one year.

“I don’t want anything to do with the family money. When I moved out, I made a promise to myself that I would make it on my own.”

You sighed, smiling at your best friend. She really was one of a kind, willing to go above and beyond for her friends and not freeloading from her generational wealth like her brothers did, “You’re a good person, Hel. But you’re putting my head on the chopping block.”

“Mm.”

“Not you too.” You whined.

“Better get used to it," She grinned, enjoying your distress, "Aemond will be moving into my room at the end of the week. So I expect you to behave yourself while I’m away and be nice to him.”

You gasped in mock offence, “I’m always nice!”

Helaena gave you a pointed look.

“Okay, well fine. I’ll be on my best behaviour for you.” You hopped off the counter, and put a hand on your chest and one in the air, “Scouts honour.”

“You weren’t a scout.”

“Never too late.” You grinned.

Helaena scrunched her nose at you, “You’re so annoying. Go shower, you stink.”

“I do not!” You said indignantly, turning your head to your shoulder to smell yourself.

“Well, there’s too many chefs in the kitchen and I want to have an everything shower tonight.”

You opened your mouth in mock surprise as you looked at her, a soft gasp leaving your lips. You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at your best friend, “And who are you shaving for?” You wiggled your eyebrows at her.

Helaena blushed, “No one.”

“No.” You said in disbelief.

“Y/n-“

“Please tell me you’re not.”

Silence.

“Are you seeing Sara again?”

Helaena looked so sheepish as she went back to stirring the dinner, you moved to stand behind her, resting your head on her shin from behind as you watched her cook, “Hel, what are you hiding from me?”

“Go away, you big gnat.”

“I thought I was a Christmas beetle?”

“I’ve changed my mind. Plus you’re one to talk, I saw Cregan’s car out the front the other day as I left for work.” Helaena snipped, flustered and cheeks completely red. Her neck speckled with a blush that rose up from her chest.

“Glass houses. Besides, you can’t say the Starks aren’t scrummy.” You pinched her side and moved away from the kitchen, “I’m going to shower, and I’ll make sure to leave you some hot water so when Sara comes over tonight you’ll be all squeaky clean.” You teased.

“Shut it!”

The next morning you rose early to make yourself a cup of tea, you bumping into Sara on her way out of the house. The brunette was moving quickly out the door, hair knotted at the back of her head and lips blushed.

“Morning Sara.” You greeted her as she walked past you on the lounge, clearly not expecting to see you. You lifted your mug of tea up towards her in greeting and watched as her cheeks blushed a deeper red than the top she was wearing.

“Morning.” She responded, “Sorry, I’ve got an early class to get to.”

“Its Saturday.”

“Uh-” The Stark stuttered.

“And it’s break.”

“Oh, shut up." She smirked, "Tell my brother I said 'hi.'” Smile pulling downwards on her lips playfully.

You laughed softly in the quiet of the room, and bid her a goodbye.

Sara and Helaena had been on and off for longer than you had known Helaena, and was actually how you met Cregan. Sara had set it up after a night of drinking together, and Helaena had only encouraged you to ‘let your freak fly’.

Cregan was amazing. Tall, kind, smart and with a handsomeness that only Northerners had, with these dark brown eyes that you could get lost in.

But in saying that, you weren’t compatible in anything other than sex or casual friendship. You had been sleeping together for a few months when he wanted more, and you weren’t ready for that. And so you had ended the little tryst that you had, and parted on good terms. Amicable terms.

For a while, the two of you hadn’t spoken, letting Cregan have space from you to process what had happened, but eventually you had received a text to meet up for a coffee one day, and decided you were better off being friends.

Who fucked.

Occasionally.

Helaena exited her room shortly after, her silver hair messy and wearing an oversized t-shirt that hung to her mid thighs, a large centipede with a hat on the front.

“Good morning sleepy head.” You sang to her, watching as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Why are you up so early?” She grumbled, clearly not having gotten much sleep.

“There’s an antique market down in the square and I thought we could go and get some trinkets.” You smiled, watching as her eyes came alight.

“Trinketville.” She spoke in a high pitched voice.

“Yup!”

Shuffling her feet towards you, she leant over the back of the couch, “When does it start?”

“Started around 7.” You grabbed your phone to look at the screen, “It’s only 8:40, so if you quickly get dressed I can drive us down and get us a park.”

“Yay!” Helaena chirped, spinning back into her room suddenly alive.

As she walked away you called out to her, “Saw Sara sneak out.”

“Huh?” Helaena yelled back.

“I saw Sara this morning!”

Helaena stuck her head out from the door, hiding her naked body behind its frame, cheeks tinged pink, “Please don’t tell me you said anything.” She winced.

“I just said good morning.” You said coyly, watching as Helaena sighed in exacerbation before going back into her room.

“You know,” You called out, standing to put your mug in the dishwasher, “You don’t have to hide her in your room. I don’t hide Cregan.”

Helaena stepped out wearing a pair of pale denim overalls, and a soft yellow shirt underneath, socks and doc martins in hand, “Yeah well, you haven’t dated Cregan.”

“I mean we kind of did.” You shrugged, leaning against the side of the couch as she sat at the small dining table to put her shoes and socks on.

“Fucking him on the couch doesn’t count as dating.”

It was your time to blush, “Close enough.”

Helaena snorted, lacing up her boots, “Aren’t you going to get dressed?” She eyed you up and down, one brow raised.

You looked down at yourself. You were in an old busted t-shirt which had far too many holes to make it physically sound, and beneath you wore some old track pants and slides.

“Whats wrong with what I’m wearing?” You asked, offence in your tone.

“What’s right with it?” Helaena grimaced, “Go get actually dressed you slob. What if there’s someone cute at the markets?”

“I will have no time for cuties as I will be too lost in the joys of finding the ultimate trinkets for my collection.” You sniffed, raising your chin in defiance.

“Borderline hoarding at this point.”

You gasped, “Hey! Says you Miss Insects.”

“Go get dressed,” Helaena insisted leaving no room for argument, “Then we will head out. Do you think they’ll have coffee?”

You laughed, “Yeah, there should be a truck.”

When you were dressed and ready, you drove yourself and Helaena down to the markets, already full of people and bursting with life.

Many people brought their dogs with them and to your delight, an old man people called Maester Orwyle was seen walking his white Persian cat inside of a pram. The cat sat with her paws crossed in front of her as she watched everyone walking past, the occasional hiss given to the dogs that passed her or children who got too close.

Helaena giggled loudly as you both passed it, moving to look at another antique jewellery stand, Helaena’s eyes immediately spotting a small, gold, dragonfly pin. Its wings had emeralds on its tips and a larger one as its head.

She held the pin in her hand, uncertain if she should get it or not, the old man behind the table trying to sell it to her.

“It’s real gold, 14 karats. Real emeralds too. A pretty broach for a pretty girl.”

Helaena smiled politely though you knew she wished to move away.

“Come on Hel, when will you ever find something like that again?” You encouraged her. Her lip was caught between her teeth as she thought.

Looking up at the greying man behind the table, you asked for the price, “How much?”

“$70.” The man replied.

Helaena moved to put the pin back down, “It’s too expensive.” She said quietly.

“Nonsense.” You whispered back. “I’ll give you forty for it.” You looked at the man.

“Forty is too low. I’ll do sixty.”

“Fifty.” You counted.

“Y/n.” Helaena hissed.

The old man hummed as he look at the two of you before he nodded, “Fifty then.”

You looked at Helaena triumphantly and watched as she sheepishly gave the man the money, clutching the pin in her hand as the two of you walked away.

“I hate when you do that. It's so embarrassing. You’re like my grandpa.”

“Did you just compare me to Otto?” You grimaced, remembering your interactions with the stiff older man. He was rather cold, and barely spoke a word to you unless to correct you, but he would brighten up when speaking to Helaena considerably.

“You leave him alone, he’s old.”

You hummed in response.

“You’ll get along with Aemond just fine if you keep that up.” Helaena teased and you stuck your tongue out at her, moving to look at some old books.

You picked up an old heavy leather book, which looked to have been buried in dust. You opened the cover gently and looked at the front page. Your eyes widened.

“Helaena!” You hissed, grabbing her to your side as you looked down at the book in your hand, “This is a First Edition.” You quietly whispered.

“Looks like the worst edition.” She giggled and you elbowed her in the side.

“Seriously Hel, these are so hard to come across! It’s ‘The Lovers of Queen Nymeria’ too, this is like old old.” You explained, excitement racing through your veins, “These are seriously hard to get a hold of!”

“God, you and Aemond are the same. I swear my dad had that in his library.”

You snorted, “Yeah, well, not all of us come from royalty, Hel. I come from a long line of peasants, which I-“

“Oh, cut it out.” She griped.

You let yourself laugh, holding the book in your hands in wonder, “They’re probably asking for hundreds for this. God, I can’t believe I’m even able to touch it right now!”

Helaena looked up at the young man who had the stall, “Excuse me, could you please tell us the price of this book?”

“Hel, it’ll be way out of my price range.” You sighed quietly.

The man turned and came over, looking at the book in your hands, “I’ll give it to you for $20.” He said with disinterest, looking at the worn cover.

“$20?!” You said in disbelief, shock crawling through you.

“We’ll take it!” Helaena responded quickly, handing he man $20 from her small silver purse.

“Hel, I’m paying for it.”

“Nope!” She popped the ‘p’ as you moved away, holding the book in your hands in shock. “This is my gift to you, plus you saved me the money for the pin, aaaand you can take it as me buttering you up because mumboughtmeanearlierflight.” The last part of her sentance was speedily blurted as she turned to look at you, offering you a remorseful smile.

“You bitch.” You narrowed your eyes at her, “You’re lucky I love you.”

You walked side by side, looking at the rest of the stalls, finding some fun little things before the two of you decided to go home, exhausted from walking around in the hot sun for hours.

When you arrived back at the apartment, Helaena slumped onto the couch the two of you had found on the street years back. It was a light brown velvet, with dark wood detailing. An absolute classic.

The silver haired girl sighed, tugging her bag onto her lap as she begun to line up her buys of the day on the table.

You joined her, placing your book on the table followed by a small, vintage, golden mirror and a large candle holder for your room. Helaena had bought her pin, a small blue skirt with little green beetles on it, as well as a large framed Luna Moth.

You let your head drop to her shoulder, “I’m going to miss you.” You whined, tapping your head onto the bone of her shoulder.

“You big baby, I’ll be back in no time.”

“But you’re leaving me on breaaaak. What about all the hotties we were going to pick up at the bars?”

Helaena laughed loudly as she rested her head against the top of yours, “Plenty of time to do that when I get back.”

You grunted, “Don’t act like you didn’t tell me you are leaving earlier. You said end of the week.” You pulled away and looked at her with your eyes narrowed, “When are you leaving now?”

“Tomorrow.” Helaena sighed.

“Tomorrow?! What!”

Helaena began to fiddle with her hands in her lap, her pale fingers picking at the skin at her nails. You watched as Helaena became quiet, shut in, and a sudden wave of anxiety moved through you.

“Hel, what’s wrong? Has Sara done something?” You questioned, head dipping to try and catch her eyes.

“Dads sick.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked at her, “Has he gotten worse?” You asked softly.

Helaena’s dad had been sick for a long time, when you had met her she was worried, but knew there was nothing that she could do. Her visits to her family home back then were frequent, but as time went on, her visits became less, and she had assured you that his team of carers and her mother could handle it.

“It’s not good.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” She gave you a sad smile, “It was going to happen one day or another. Mum wants us to go back to see them at the Keep, so I’m going to Daeron’s to get him and we will go together.”

“But what about Aemond? Will he be going with you?”

Helaena let out a quiet breath, “Dad doesn’t have the best relationship with Aem and Egg. Pretty sure my sister will be at the Keep with my nephews, and well,” She paused, and you knew why, “You know Aem doesn’t have a good relationship with them.”

You remembered the day Helaena had told you about Aemond’s fight with Lucerys when they were kids and the accident. You had felt terrible hearing the news, but now understood why tensions in the family were so strained. Not to mention that Helaena’s sister Rhaenyra, from his first marriage, was largely favoured over his other three children.

But from all accounts that Helaena had told you, Rhaenyra was a lovely woman, and incredibly kind to her.

You grabbed Helaena’s hand and held it, “Let me know if you need me to come, yeah? Or need anything of me. I mean anything. You need me, I’ll be there.”

Helaena gave you a gentle smile as she nodded, “Thanks, but I’ll be okay. Maybe you could come to the Keep and stay a week or something once I'm settled.”

“Will that hunky Criston be there?” You waggled your eyebrows at her.

Helaena's face morphed into disgust, “Ewww. I don’t see what you see in him.”

“What? He’s hot, plus him being your mums bodyguard makes it so much hotter.”

“He’s not her bodyguard.” Helaena argued.

“Sure, then he just follows her around like a lost puppy and is paid to look pretty. Anyhow, when is Aemond coming since you go tomorrow?” You rested your head back against her shoulder, fiddling with her hand in her lap as you wiggled her fingers with yours.

“He said he’d be driving his old chevy Vhagar in, so who knows how long that will take. If it doesn’t break down on the way.” Helaena snickered.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Taglist:

@mrstargayen09 @iamavailablesstuff @malfoytargaryen @hogwarts1207 @diannnnsss

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azrielslightintheshadows · 10 months

Note

ooh could i request one where the reader drinks something which unknowingly causes her to de-age into a toddler. of course, everyone is taken aback by this and it startles toddler!reader, causing her to cry.

the IC all dote on the reader, trying to make them happy or go to sleep etc. and toddler!reader is equally clingy, loving the attention but scared by the situation. however, she is especially clingy to her mate (any of the batboys) who feels smug about this (or, in the alternative, she is especially clingy to everyone but her mate aw).

no smut please, only fluff (platonic when the reader is a toddler!) and maybe a sprinkle of angst :) ty <3

De-aging potion.

Inner circle x f!Reader (Mate; Azriel)

Warnings; swearing.

Masterlist.

I don’t really know why but I believe Azriel is the best choice as a mate in this. He is so quiet and dark, it definitely serves the purpose of the story. This was hard to write, I hope it's good!

Reader at first doesn't recognize them but I use their names because I don't want to make it confusing.

“Don’t touch this, girl” Amren snapped as you traced your fingertips over a jar.

“Sorry” you mumbled sheepishly.

You, Amren and Cassian were searching for a special herb that would help Feyre with pregnancy pains as the baby’s wings grew.

You were currently in a small cottage right outside of Velaris. The witch who agreed to help glanced at you and offered you a mischievous smile.

“Such a curious girl” she smirked.

You didn’t reply, her whole attitude made you feel uneasy, and you suddenly regretted not taking your mate Azriel with you.

“This one.” The witch said and gave Amren a jar. “Are you sure it will help?” the ancient one asked.

“Are you questioning my abilities dear?”

Cassian glanced at you worriedly, you both knew that the two creatures would turn this meeting into a battlefield if you didn’t step in now.

“I think we’re done here.” You cleared your throat. The tension made your mouth dry, and you winced as you swallowed.

“Here take this.” The witch smiled. She noticed your reluctance and sighed “It’s just water”.

You took the cup from her and gulped down the water before sending her a thankful look and following the others.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here” Cassian shuddered and opened his arms to pick both you and Amren up and fly away.

A wicked laugh rang, and the cottage turned into mist.

“What the fuck?” Cassian exclaimed.

“I-I don’t feel good” you stuttered and stumbled backwards.

“Y/n!” Amren gasped and moved closer.

You felt like your intestines were rearranging themselves and suddenly a bright light emerged from your skin. You landed on your butt and gaped at them.

“Mother’s tits!” Cassian exclaimed while Amren paled.

You flinched at the scream and burst into tears.

“Shut up idiot you’re scaring her! We must take her back to Velaris. Now!” Amren hissed. “Come here sweet girl, we will take you home” she said softly and opened her arms.

You sniffled and pushed yourself up, stumbling into her and wrapping your arms around her neck.

Cassian picked both of you up with a frown and shoot up making you yelp and giggle.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“We have a problem!” Cassian shouted as you landed on a balcony. Your eyes watered and Amren slapped the back of his head.

You walked into a big dining room where several people were sitting. Everyone’s eyes fell on you and confusion filled their features. Only a male narrowed his eyes and then paled.

“Who’s that sweet girl?” Feyre cooed. “Uhm.. yeah that’s the problem” Cassian scratched the back of his head.

“It’s y/n” Amren rolled her eyes.

Everyone gasped and stared at you with wide eyes making you gasp too and start crying. “Not again” Amren groaned.

“Az” you cried out not sure what that meant but your mind seemed to work on its own accord.

The male who had narrowed his eyes got up and approached you with a worried expression. You peeked from Amren’s neck and stretched your arms to him.

“I’ve got you angel” he said softly and engulfed you in his arms. His shadows shot up and started rubbing your back soothingly. You hummed and hid your face in his neck.

“What happened?” Rhysand asked.

“The witch offered her some water and then this happened.” Amren explained.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Azriel growled “I would make her reverse it!” “Why didn’t we think about that?” Cassian said sarcastically “Oh I know, because she fucking disappeared?”

“Don’t speak like that in front of a child” Feyre gasped.

“She’s not a child!” Cassian exclaimed.

“Please stop” you whispered and Azriel tensed.

“It’s okay angel” he murmured and kissed your head.

You couldn’t understand what was happening to you, it felt like you were trapped inside your mind, seeing everything that was happening but unable to react. You wanted to scream “I’m here!” but your body and brain worked on their own, leaving you helpless.

“I will ask the priestesses to search every book. Maybe we can find a way to reverse it.” Rhysand spoke and got up. The noise making you peek at him. He noticed your curious eyes and grinned. “Hi sweetie” he cooed, and you giggled stretching your arms at him. Azriel growled but let you cling to Rhys not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable.

Rhysand bounced you on his hip making you giggle. “I’m practicing for our baby” he told Feyre and she smiled.

“Let’s go to the library” he said and started walking away. You noticed a few shadows trailing after you and you made grabby hands at them.

The action made Azriel smile and puff his chest making everyone groan and roll their eyes. When you lost them from your sight you glanced at Rhys and your bottom lip trembled.

“What is it sweetie?” he asked.

“Az” you mumbled, and a few tears escaped. The shadows darted away.

“You want Az?”

You nodded and in a blink Azriel appeared at the end of the hall, marching towards you.

“Come here babygirl” he cooed and grabbed you.

You returned in the dining room.

“What are we going to do about this?” Nesta sighed.

“I guess we keep her happy and safe until we find a solution.” Azriel said and took a seat placing you on his lap. “Honey… even though I love that you are clinging to me, it’s kinda weird to have you on my lap.” He cringed and gave you to Nesta.

Cassian turned to him in confusion “Why?”

Azriel rolled his eyes “She is my mate, sitting on my thighs feels wrong now.”

“Oh yeah” The warlord nodded.

“You’re so cute” Nesta cooed and grabbed your hands making you clap and giggle.

“What do toddlers eat?” Feyre asked.

“I have no idea” Nesta shrugged.

“Probably soft food” Elain joined the conversation and smiled sweetly when you looked at her. “I’ll make her something.” She got up and left.

You squirmed in Nesta’s hold and she frowned “I think she is getting bored guys.”

Cassian’s eyes filled with amusement “I think Uncle Cass has the solution” he boomed.

“You’re not her uncle” Azriel groaned.

Cassian shushed him and picked you up.

“Hey sweet girl wanna fly?” he asked you and you nodded eagerly.

The gentle giant raised you above his head in a lying position and ran around the table, throwing you up and catching you again every now and then. You kept laughing and screaming and kicking your feet.

“Food’s ready!” Elain chirped and entered the room with a plate filled with vegetables and small pieces of chicken.

She took a seat and Cassian placed you on her lap with a kiss on your head.

“Open your mouth sweetheart” she cooed and brought the fork on your lips. You shook your head and hid your face on her shoulder.

“What if I tell you a story while you eat?” she offered making you peek at her. “You like the idea?”. You nodded and she smiled.

“Okay there once was a girl named y/n….”

Everyone gaped at her as you started eating.

“I think we found something” Rhys entered the room with a book in hand.

You couldn’t hear what they said, your body was completely mesmerized by Elain and her story.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“What did you find” Azriel asked.

“She probably gave her this potion, I can’t find anything else that would cause this to happen except some spells” Rhys replied.

“No it wasn’t a spell” Amren spoke.

The shadowsinger looked at her helplessly “are you sure?”

“Yes boy I know how spells work.” She snorted.

“If it's indeed this potion, then it will pass tomorrow morning. She'll most likely wake up as her grown self.” Rhys explained and Azriel sighed in relief.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Azzie” you screeched, interrupting their conversation and making him smile.

“Yes angel?” “Love you” you gave him a toothy grin and he blushed.

“Aww look at him getting all shy because of a baby” Cassian cooed, and one shadow smacked his head “Ouch”.

“Okay time to sleep little one” Rhysand said and Azriel picked you up.

“No” you shouted.

“You have to sleep sweetie and tomorrow you will be a big girl” Your mate said excitedly.

“No!” you cried out and started squirming in his arms. “Y/n!” he yelled, and you gaped at him. “I said its time to sleep.”

Your eyes watered and his face softened.

“Come on angel” he pleaded.

“Nesta” you cried out and pushed him away trying to get to her.

“I’m here sweetheart” she replied and took you from him.

Azriel frowned and stared at you. “Mean” you told Nesta and pointed at him. “I know” she nodded “Let’s go cuddle”.

You waved goodbye to everyone and Nesta carried you in her room.

She lied next to you, and you rested your head on her chest, her heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

At some point during the night, you saw the witch staring at you in your dream.

“That’s what curious girls get. Next time think before you touch my jars.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You woke up with a groan, feeling like your head was going to explode.

“Good morning” Nesta chuckled, and you gasped.

“I’m in your bed” you said and glanced around.

“Yup” she smiled.

“Please tell me that everything was a dream” you whined.

“Nope”

“Cauldron” you breathed.

The door opened and everyone walked inside.

“She’s back” Cassian shouted, and everyone laughed.

You slowly got up and walked to your mate, hugging him and pressing your cheek on his chest.

“I thought I was mean” he teased you and you hummed.

“You’ll never stop teasing me huh?”

“Nope” everyone exclaimed simultaneously making you groan.

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midnightsnyx · 1 year

Text

girl at home | mat barzal | part 2

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you’re eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lil bit of angst with a sprinkle of fluff and not edited im sorry lol word count: 2.1k authors note: *screams internally* thank you guys so much for the love on this story so far. I was super hesitant to post it at first but I am glad you guys like it! I'm posting this a little early but updates will be every sunday from now on. This chapter is kinda sad but happy times are on the way <3 thanks for the feedback, and if you like part 2, let me know!

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Sitting across from Mat for the first time in almost eight years, doesn’t go exactly as planned. He’s waiting for you even though you arrive fifteen minutes before the agreed time, hoping to rid yourself of the anxiety you are feeling which means he’s been here even longer. So you wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans and stride over to where he’s waiting and sit on the chair across from him. He’s staring at his phone so his head jerks up when he hears you.

The first words that come out of his mouth are: “are you sure she’s mine?”

Which, okay, that’s a fair question because you did tell everybody and their grandmother who asked that Mat was not the one who knocked you up. Of course, nobody actually believed you but there were a few people from your high school that believed it. Most girls who had always had a crush on Mat, would say that you cheated on him and obviously Nora couldn’t be his child because for some reason, they never actually accepted that you and Mat were a couple.

So yeah, his question is fair and you did know he would ask.

“Yeah, we can do a paternity test if you don’t believe me,” you say quietly. It’s not something you necessarily want to do, because then you’d have to come up with some reason to tell Nora why she needs to go get her cheek swabbed or blood tested. She’s as stubborn as Mat, and you would probably have to hold her down to get whatever the doctors needed unless she agreed.

“No, I believe you.”

His words take a huge weight off your shoulders but also replace it with a new one. You know Mat, he’s the kindest soul and has the biggest heart and he’s going to want to at least properly meet Nora and might ask to be in her life. In the first few years of her life, there wouldn’t have been anything you wanted more in the world. However, you’ve grown now and so has she. Your number one priority has to be what is best for Nora, and turning her life upside by introducing her to Mat is scary. For both you and her.

And Mat? Despite what he might think, he’s nowhere near prepared to jump into being her dad.

“Can I ask you something?” he says, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts.

“Sure,” you say even though you know what he’s going to ask. It’s a question you’re nowhere near ready to answer but you have no choice now.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

He doesn’t sound as angry as you were expecting, maybe thanks to his dad talking to him but there’s underlying hurt. You try to put yourself in his shoes, trying to think if there was anything in the world that would have stopped you from wanting Nora. You know for a fact that if Mat knew, he would have been in her life somehow but you’re not sure if he would have given up the NHL to do it, and that’s exactly why you didn’t tell him.

“I didn’t want to hold you back,” you say softly, watching his facial expression change. He just looked confused before but now he looks sad almost. His eyes close for a moment and when he opens them, you feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach.

“I thought you knew me better than that.”

“I did! I do,” you argue. “If you knew about her, it would have kept you away from everything you worked hard for. Your dream was the NHL, Mat. If I told you about her, it would’ve crushed that dream. We didn’t want to hold you back.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Who’s we? You and my parents? You shouldn’t have made that choice for me, it wasn’t right.”

“This is a child we’re talking about Mat. Were you really ready at eighteen to drop everything and raise one?”

“Were you?”

“No,” you say truthfully. “But I didn’t have a jersey with my name on the back waiting for me.”

He doesn’t say anything and for a moment, it’s silent between the two of you with background chatter from the cafe. You’re sure that he’s just going to get up and storm out but he takes a deep breath and slowly exhales, knotting his fingers together.

“I wish you’d told me,” he mumbles before looking up at you. “I would’ve stayed.”

“I know,” you whisper but you can’t meet his gaze.

. . .

You’re picking Nora up from her day camp a couple of days later when you get a message from Mat asking if he can meet up with you. There’s been no contact since the two of you last met, having left with a short goodbye to pick up Nora. He hadn’t asked to see her and you hadn’t offered so you thought maybe he would leave it but you should’ve known better.

You fire off a sure, see you in twenty, and debate on whether to bring Nora with you or drop her off with your mom. Mat might not even want to see her, but if he’s reaching out to you again it’s probably about her.

“Wanna go meet my friend?” you ask, looking back at her to gauge her reaction. She might just want to go home after all day at camp, but she perks up immediately when you ask.

“The one from the grocery store?” she squeals but narrows her eyes and gives you a suspicious look. “Hey, I thought you said he was a stranger.”

Shoot.

“Well, he was to you,” you try to explain. “I knew him when I was younger.”

“As young as me?”

“As young as you,” you tell her and she grins, nodding her head and shouting an excited yes, so you pull out of the parking-lot and start towards Mat’s parents house. You’re a little nervous to be around his family after dancing around them for so long after Nora was born. Meeting up with Liana wasn’t as hard as you were expecting, but you’re not so sure about his parents. Aside from the occasional awkward greeting, you haven’t properly spoken to them since before Nora and you’re starting to think maybe bringing her will just make things worse but before you can change your mind, you’re parking your car in the driveway.

He’s sitting outside on the porch swing when you step out, and his eyes widen in surprise when Nora climbs out of the car. He definitely wasn’t expecting you to bring her but this could be a good test. If he decides he wants to be part of her life, having all their interactions scheduled wouldn’t be a good start so you decide to just jump in the deep end.

“Hey,” you call out before grabbing Nora’s hand and making your way towards him. He’s already making his way down the pathway and meets you about half way, pulling you into a surprising hug before crouching down to Nora’s level.

“Hey Nora,” he says, smiling gently and offering her his hand to shake just like last time. “Do you remember me?”

She bobs her head once, accepting his hand but tries to hide her face in your leg. Of course now, she’s practicing Stranger Danger, instead of blurting out her full name.

“Mom made dinner, if you guys are hungry?”

Family dinner is just about the last thing you want to do but Nora perks up at the idea of food so you agree, following Mat into the all too familiar home you spent so much time in as a kid. Not much has changed, you realize as you look around the foyer. It feels a bit like coming home but you’re not sure if you were missed.

“Smells good,” you say, trying to make conversation and Mat smiles awkwardly.

“Yeah, mom is making your favorite.”

How she can remember your favorite meal is beyond you, but you’re not about to miss a peace offering and this is certainly one.

“My favorite food is spaghetti,” Nora informs him and you watch Mat nod seriously, taking in anything she says. You try not to look too deep into it because even though he knows she’s biologically his, Nora is still just a cute kid talking a mile a minute about anything and Mat has probably been trained on how to handle excited children.

When the three of you make your way to the living room, with Nora still chatting excitedly, you stop short when you see a picture frame on the wall.

It’s you. Well, it’s you and Mat at graduation. Arms wrapped around each other and Mat kissing your forehead. If you look close enough, you can see past your smile and see the sadness in your eyes. This was before you were pregnant but you were already grieving the loss of Mat. He left for hockey shortly after and your only reminder was the brown haired little girl still talking to Mat.

“Is that you, mama?” Nora asks suddenly, standing on the tips of her toes so she can get a better view. Her nose scrunches up and she looks at the photo, then Mat, and then the photo again.

“Oh,” she says and you sigh.

“Let’s go see Mat’s parents.”

Nadia and Mike are waiting in the kitchen, trying to make it seem like they weren’t listening in on the conversation. Liana is sitting at the table, reading a book casually but you know she was probably listening too.

“This is Mike, Nadia, and Liana,” you tell Nora who lights up at Nadia’s name.

“My middle name is Nadia!” She squeals and you stare at the floor, not wanting to meet any of their eyes. Someone - probably Nadia - inhales sharply and then lets out what sounds like a sob.

“That’s a beautiful name,” Liana says and you look up to see her looking at Nora with a soft smile on her face. Mike has an arm wrapped around Nadia who’s trying, and failing, to hide tears. You’re glad Liana is trying to distract Nora because you’re about two seconds away from crying and Mat must be able to tell because you feel his hand lightly touch your back. His hand lingers for a moment until you take a deep breath and blow it out steadily.

Then his hand is gone and you feel the loss right away.

“Hey, we have a swing outside in the backyard,” Mat tells Nora. “Wanna go check it out while dinner finishes cooking?”

He looks at you for permission so you nod, smiling at Nora when he takes her hand and leads her outside. Liana follows shortly after and then it’s just you, Nadia and Mike. Both their eyes are red rimmed and Nadia only hesitates for a moment before striding over and pulling you into a tight hug.

“Thank you, my girl,” she whispers and all you can manage is a nod because you’ll probably cry now if you try to talk. The two of you just stand there for a couple minutes until Mike chuckles. You pull away, wiping your eyes to see him standing in front of the patio door so you make your way over to see what he’s looking at and almost start crying again.

Mat and Nora are playing what looks like a game of tag, Liana laughing at them while trying to film. It’s exactly the kind of thing you had sometimes allowed yourself to imagine.

“Would you look at that,” Mike says softly.

“He’s a natural,” Nadia agrees. “Always was.”

Then she turns to you with a small smile on her face. “I know the struggles of being a mom. You have to do what’s best for your kids…” she hesitates, gazing outside before looking back at you. “He wants to try, if you’ll give him the chance. We’d all love to get to know Nora.”

You would love nothing more than to have Mat’s family in Nora’s life. For her to get to know her other grandparents but you can’t help but be scared of what could happen if you let Mat into her life. She could get attached only to have him ripped away when he has to go back to New York but you can’t have Nora in Nadia, Mike, and Liana’s life and not Mat’s.

But maybe you owe it to Mat, to give him a chance at having a place in her life after not telling him about her all this time. You were doing what you thought was right - what was right - but if Mat really wants to be part of her life, maybe it’s time.

You look outside and see Nora on Mat’s shoulders with Liana chasing them, before looking back at the woman in front of you and smiling softly.

“I think Nora would love that.”

tag list: @dasiysthings

#hockey imagines #allies writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal fic

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loaksky · 1 year

Note

tw : ptsd

hi I love love love your work, may I make a request: abby comforting reader with ptsd after a nightmare/episode 🧸 only if you’re comfy with that of course angel!!

— 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒆 | 𝒂. 𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏

roommate!abby x fem roommate!reader, fluff / mild angst, wc: 2.3k

synopsis: oftentimes when you’re lost in the darkness, abby’s your light.

content warnings: language, sprinkled mentions trauma and implied ptsd ! talks of death, brief mentions of canon-compliant violence. this is set in the tlou2 universe, but is canon-divergent (did i use that term right lmaooo ??), abby & reader get off to a rocky start, but they’re so fucking cute & i wanna write more of them ????

author’s note: sugar !! you don’t even know how excited i was to see you in my inbox bae ! ilysm thank you so much for requesting ! hope i did this justice <3 ALSO this is my first time writing in the tlou universe ?? usually i write modern!aus so i'm like pissing myself lowkey ansjkdnfjasf

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

YOUR PRESENCE ON BASE SENDS a ripple of whispers from wall to wall. The circumstances pertaining to your arrival hadn’t been uncommon, but they were brutal, had people eyeing you with equal parts sympathy and disdain.

Truthfully, you don’t remember much of it, had blacked out after the first death, but the murmurs speculate that your entire family had been ambushed, turned and then picked off in a raid.

You don’t know how true that is.

Abby doesn’t really pay you much mind at first, isn’t all that thrilled when she finds out that you’re taking the spare side of the spacious room she occupies, but she keeps her mouth shut when she sees how fragile you are.

And it’s not like she sees you much, not even in the evenings when most people are turning in for the night. Your bed’s always made, your side of the room in pristine condition. The only indication that you lodge with Abby is the beat up backpack that hangs on the hook by your desk.

On occasion she’ll wake up in the wee hours of the night to find you tucked under the blankets, still as a statue, but come morning, you’re gone.

For a while, she appreciates the distance, but when she sees you only a handful of times in the nearly two months you’ve sought refuge at the stadium, she begins to grow curious.

First it starts as asking passive questions to those patrolling, then she starts briefly combing any areas she enters, but you’re like a fleeting wisp of smoke, gone with a gust of wind.

She happens upon you by chance one night, right as the sun is setting. She’s on her way to the weight room when she notices you. The library is relatively quiet around this time, everyone usually in the dining hall or working on their evening duties.

But there you are, going through a carton of what looks like newly arrived books from the most recent raid.

Abby acts against her own better judgment, door whooshing as she presses her weight against the pushbar.

You’re looking up from your sorting, eyebags still prominent, but the color has returned to your face and you look like you’ve been taking care of yourself.

“This where you disappear to everyday?” Abby asks, pulling an early 2000’s almanac from the shelf to distract herself from the sear of you gaze.

She glances back at you when you don’t respond, finds that you’ve returned to shuffling through the box instead of humoring her question.

She clears her throat, takes another step closer, and you’re looking up at her again.

“Any good titles?” she tries. “I’m kinda in a slump right now, think I—”

“You don’t have to pity me,” you say flatly, voice a lot different than Abby’d expected.

She’s floored, regardless. Doesn’t know what would compel you to say such a thing when she’s barely spoken a dozen words to you since your arrival.

“I’m not following,” Abby admits.

You’re small in comparison, but the look you level her with is mighty, makes her cheeks bloom red because a woman’s never looked at her in such a way. She feels like she’s in trouble, but maybe she likes it.

“I hear what you all say about me,” you say firmly. “That I’m probably batshit crazy, that the patrolling team should’ve just left me to die with the rest of my family, that I’m useless.”

Abby flinches, brows drawing together and lips parting incredulously.

You don’t expect her reaction.

“I’m lost?” she says in confusion, then adds, tone stony, “who’s been saying that shit?”

Frankly, you don’t really look convinced, but your shoulders are relaxing a fraction. Perhaps you won’t admit it, but Abby’s quiet outrage provides some semblance of comfort.

You shrug.

“Doesn’t matter,” you say quietly. “But you don’t have to go out of your way to be nice to me. I’m fine on my own.”

And Abby doesn’t know whose neck she has to wring, or how many for that matter, but despite initially being lukewarm towards you, she wants to squash every single person who’s made you feel like you can’t find a place among them.

“That’s bullshit,” she replies frankly, and you’re looking at her sharply. “People are bored, like to run their mouths. There’s a place here for everyone, you included.”

Such simple words shouldn’t make you feel warm, but you’re pausing, frozen like a hurt pup experiencing affection for the first time. You’re glancing up at her, lips pressed in a thin line.

Abby’s fidgeting because fuck, did she overstep a boundary with this interaction? Should she have left you alone instead? She wasn’t necessarily mad at the distance between you two, but the establishment of having a roommate makes her feel like she’s been living with a ghost recently.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

Abby’s shoulders deflate in relief, chest hitching as she takes in a shaky sigh.

“Have you...have you had dinner yet?”

Abby learns that regardless of breaking the ice, you’re still reserved. It’s quiet breaths of laughter when she cracks a joke, learning how to settle for the silence when the two of you are spending prolonged periods of time together (which is a lot more frequent that Abby had expected), and being the buffer between you and most things you find uncertainty with.

Not only that, but you’re a nocturnal creature of habit that she usually finds cooped up in the library.

It’s half past one in the morning some weeks later when she wakes up and groggily squints over the railing that divides the room to find that your bed is empty.

She’s pulling on a hoodie, slipping on a pair of sneakers and brushing her hair from her face as she slinks out into the hallway. And, of course, you’re in the first place she thinks to look, curled up against the cushions of an oversized chair with your eyes drooping over a children’s picture book.

She enters almost silently, only catching your attention when she’s a few paces away.

“Hey, A–” A yawn pulls from your chest. “Hey, Abby.”

She smiles softly.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

She leans against the armrest of the chair, peers down at you as you flip lazily through the pages before she’s pulling the book from your grasp.

You let out a sound of disapproval.

“M’not done,” you tell her.

“You look like you’re about to knock out,” Abby observes. “Why don’t we get you to bed.”

You yawn again, then sigh deeply.

“I won’t be able to fall asleep anyways,” you admit quietly.

Abby shifts and you look up at her. She notices the glimmer of vulnerability that glosses over your sleepy eyes.

“Is it because...” she trails off, swallows down the rest of her question because she doesn’t want to seem insensitive, but you seem to get the gist anyways.

“Among other things,” you admit.

“Oh,” Abby whispers. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug tiredly.

“Can’t be helped, really.”

And Abby’s learned to really like you these past few weeks, has felt for you and your journey here. It makes something tug hard at her heartstrings, especially when she sees little slivers of peace dawn you for a few moments at a time, only to be weighed down by the gravity of it all.

“Why don’t we go back and you can at least lay down?” she asks softly. “You need to rest.”

And you want to argue, tell her that it really is no use, especially when the darkness can be one of your sensitive triggers. But the look that Abby is giving you is pleading, like she can’t bear the thought of another one of your sleepless nights, so you nod carefully and let her guide you out of the seat.

“I know it’s touchy,” she says after a few silent moments down the hall. “But, you can...you can talk to me if you ever, y’know, need to get anything off your chest.”

You don’t mean to, you’re just caught up in the moment and Abby has a way of making you feel safe, but you’re grabbing gently at her fingertips as the two of you walk down the corridor.

“Thanks, Abby,” you swallow.

If Abby looks hard enough out the window, she can see the beginnings of the sun as it starts its ascent. She’d spent the latter half of the late evening murmuring to you in the dark, hoping that maybe the sound of her voice would lull you to sleep.

And it does, miraculously, she thinks to herself, when she hears the light puff of your steady breathing. She stays still for moments that bleed into several minutes, monitoring the tandem of your breaths. She doesn’t even realize how much time has passed until the sky begins to ooze from midnight to burnt swathes of orange.

She hadn’t slept a wink, too busy wanting to make sure that you’re snoozing well enough in the short period of time since you’d laid your head down. So she decides to get dressed in the dark, is in the middle of sliding her belt through the loops when she hears it.

It’s most imperceptible, the murmur that slips from your lips, but Abby’s been hyperaware recently. She thinks that maybe she’d been a little too loud, jeans rustling a little too hard, belt buckle clanging too much. But even as she stills in the dark, she hears the whimper that echos against the exposed rafters.

“Please...” Abby freezes, lump lodged deep in her throat.

Your body jerks, mattress squeaking under the sudden movement as your sheets rustle once, then twice.

“No.” Your breath catches so hard in your chest, Abby’s worried you won’t take another.

She’s crossing the room quickly, pawing around your nearby desk for the small lamp. The dim bulb casts a yellow glow over the surroundings and Abby finds you damp with a sheen of sweat.

“No, no, don’t—”

When her hands find you, you’re shooting up, shoving her away with so much force, she’s knocked to her ass. Before she even blinks, you’re straddling her, dagger she hadn’t even known you had on you, drawn.

“Hey,” she whispers shakily. “It’s me.”

Your eyes are wild, cheeks streaked with tears as you take in your surroundings. You touch base with your senses to ground you; the sound of your ragged breathing, the smell of Abby’s pine-scented soap, the taste of blood on your tongue, the feel of Abby’s shirt bunched in your fist, and the sight of her rigid frame clearing from the fog.

“Fuck,” you choke. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You’re dropping the dagger, fist loosening as you scramble to climb off of her. But her fingers are closing around your wrist to stop you, mooring you to place.

“It’s okay,” she says breathlessly. “It’s fine. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

Her hands slowly come up to brush over the sides of your arms comfortingly, and when you don’t flinch away, she’s reaching up to smooth the hair from your face.

The softness of her touch makes you melt, makes you wrap your arms around her shoulders and fall into her as her arms wind around your waist.

“I’m here,” she assures you quietly. “You’re safe.”

And when she feels your body shake against hers, her chest is squeezing, feels all those tamped down emotions from a loss that feels like such a distant memory resurface with every quiet sob that wracks your body.

She feels like she’d processed her grief well enough over the past few years after losing her dad, was buoyed in a consistent state of anger that manifested in a deep-seated need for vengeance as of late. But this makes her sad. Makes her want to take away everything that’s ever made you feel hurt in the world.

She’s squeezing you so tight, nose nestling into your hair as she rocks you gently.

Abby still doesn’t know how much time passes, but your heaving breaths turn into spaced hiccups as you sink further into her hold. She doesn’t realize that the exhaustion has crept over you until one of your hiccups fades to a sigh, until she’s pulling away to see that your cheek is pressed against her shoulder and your wet lashes brush the apples of your cheeks.

For once, it seems like one of those slivers of peace has found you in a moment of sleep and Abby wants to preserve it.

She’s shifting your weight, arms banding tight around your waist so that she can slowly stand. And when you stir, she cringes in defeat. But your breath puffs against the column of her throat, and while your proximity makes her cheeks burn, she can only focus on settling you back into bed.

“Abby,” you whisper groggily, as she sits on the edge of your bed to kick her shoes off. “Don’t leave, please.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she assures you softly, leaning back against your pillows and taking you with her. “I’ll be right here.”

True to her word, when you wake up, she is, one arm propped underneath her head, the other splayed between your shoulder blades.

The sun sits high in the sky, analog clock reading well into the morning and nearing the afternoon.

“Oh, fuck!” You’re leaning up abruptly, jostling Abby from her slumber and she’s gazing up at you with bleary eyes.

“Shit, are you okay?” Abby asks, voice thick with sleep.

“They’re probably looking for you,” you say frantically. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I—”

The hand on your back hasn’t left yet, rubbing slow circles there, the other mapping across your shoulders to pull you into her chest.

“S’okay,” she reassures you. “They won’t miss me for a day.”

“Abby—”

“Shhh,” she mutters. “M’sleeping.”

And you want to cry. Equal parts because of embarrassment and equal parts because Abby’s showed you the most kindness you can remember anyone ever showing you and it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“Abby?”

“Yes, ________?” she grumbles.

“Thank you.”

She squeezes you tighter.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fic #abby the last of us #abby anderson #abby tlou

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misted-dream · 9 months

Text

♟️ between heaven and hell ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ bodyguard!winwin x fem!reader ➛ part of the mad city series | go to district V

content | smut, sprinkle of angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, forbidden love but not really, forced proximity, a little bit of miscommunication, yn is mentioned to be shorter than winwin, slow burn?, winwin is kinda a dick at first

warnings | fingering, profanity, mentions of food, mentions of a shooting

word count | 18k

synopsis | being born into a repulsive fortune, your life is threatened more often than not. you’ve grown less and less affected by it throughout the years. however, as the day where you take on your father’s much coveted title looms nearer and nearer, more frequent and dangerous threats draw in. with all the money in the world, is it enough to buy trust?

note | ln stands for last name since yn is addressed by her last name quite a bit in this. the ending is a little bit rushed, pls excuse that and ignore the fact that this basically takes place in a week. what is pacing, idk.

tags @90s-belladonna thank you for supporting me!

a smattering of rain hits against the arched window pane of the library, filling the room with a soft pitter-patter. usually, from where you are seated, you can look directly into the well-kept and always blossoming garden. now, it’s too dark for you to make out anything but the slightest silhouette of your father’s treasured magnolia tree.

“miss ln?”

you direct your attention away from the book in your hands, and towards the library entrance that you had your back to.

“your father would like to speak with you.”

this late? you thought.

“thank you, priscilla,” you smile and your housemaid dismisses herself with a gentle nod. you glide your extended legs off of the couch and set down your book next to you on the velvet material of the sofa. sliding on your slippers, you make your way out of the library, softly close the door behind you, and amble along the long hallways and down the staircase leading to your father’s office.

you knock twice on the thick wooden doors painted in a pristine white. "come in," your father calls out. you apply pressure to the metal handle, cold to the touch, and the hinges creak slightly.

you greet your father, sat in his usual spot in the middle of the office with a floor-to-ceiling window to his back. then, something else catches your attention. a tall, backlit figure stands broadly next to your father. the room is illuminated by the moonlight and a gold accented lamp in the far corner, barely enough light to see 3 feet out in front of you clearly.

“yn,” your father addresses you faintly. you instinctively go to pull out one of the two leather seats tucked under the large, hand-carved wooden desk, its’ surface littered with documents and fountain pens. as you take a seat, your father begins, “as you know, your succession is planned for a little over a week, if all goes well. taking into account the latest incident, i have decided to take preventative measures to ensure no more dangers come to you during the lead-up.” your father pauses, his palm opens to gesture towards the man standing beside him. “this will be your new personal guard,” the man steps forward, “dong sicheng.”

confusion evidently sits upon your face. you want to flat out ask, ‘why do i need a bodyguard?’ but you bite back your tongue, trying to come up with a more eloquent and precise prod.

the man doesn’t reach his hand out, as you would expect, to introduce himself. he simply voices, “miss ln,” with a curt nod of his head.

you pull your eyes away from your new bodyguard, you still can’t make out too much of what he looks like. “father, i already have personal guards,” you state matter of factly.

“of course,” your father leans back into his chair. “but none of them are with you 24/7. sicheng will be, ensuring no harm comes your way.”

unbelievable. on the surface, it seems like he truly wants you under protection, but you understand your father’s schemes; you understand your father more than anyone else. what he’s really saying is that he has hired this man—dong sicheng—so that you will be put on his watchlist.

your father smiles a gentle smile. “but,” at the very first sound of a protest, the corners of his mouth begins to droop, “if this is about last time—”

with a firm shake of his head, your father cuts you off. “this isn’t negotiable, yn.”

normally, when you would argue things to be your way, your father would at least hear what you have to say. so, to be cut off so bluntly... a pang of helplessness strikes you square in the chest, and your eyes divert towards your new guard.

“i recommend you use your time to get adjusted to this change,” with that, your father dismisses the both of you out of his office.

you shuffle out into the cold, sterile hallways. marble pillars line the walls with ornate sconces attached upon them, each bearing a flickering candle. besides just hearing the firm footsteps of someone else tailing right behind you, you can also feel an almost omniscient presence shadowing you. swiftly, you spin around on your heels only to be met eye level with someone's chest. your guard's. you have to angle your head upwards so that you can look into his eyes; he seems to purposefully ignore your gaze, staring straight at one of the pillars opposite him.

he's undeniably gorgeous. the hallways are more lit up than your father's study, allowing you to examine every detail of your guard's face.

you wait a few seconds before breaking the silence, "are you not going to say anything?"

he drops his focus onto you. coldly, he replies, "that's not what i'm paid to do, miss." he lets his eyes linger on you for a moment longer, before returning to look at nothing.

he can tell that you're clearly annoyed by his response, but he makes no show of it. you continue, "if you're not even going to look at me, how are you going to protect me?"

"is there something i need to protect you from in your own home, miss ln?"

he knows. at least he's alluding to knowing about your last little incident. you curse yourself for being careless in your head. if you hadn't caused a ruckus when you snuck home a few nights ago, you wouldn't have this bizarrely handsome, yet callous man looming over you until your father sees a reason to think otherwise.

"no, i suppose not."

you turn around once more, facing the rest of the hallway. an archway leads to a stately staircase at the end of the corridor. you walk down the hall, trying to dismiss the delayed footsteps behind you, and enter through the archway. the staircase spirals upwards into the corridor connecting the bedrooms; yours and your father's. of course, there are other rooms upstairs, such as the library, the games room, other rooms that you don't concern yourself with too much. a grand piano sits in the centre of the spiralling staircase, its' glossy surface lit up by the moonshine flooding inside through the domed skylight.

you proceed up the stairs, not expecting your bodyguard to follow you up, but he does.

you pause, and look back around for the second time now in the span of less than 10 minutes.

"there aren't guest rooms upstairs," you point out flatly.

he responds, meeting your coldness with his own but only 10 times more intensified, "i won't be requiring one."

puzzled, you ask, "you're not going to be sleeping in my room, are you?" half jokingly, half serious.

"miss ln," he takes one step up on the staircase so that he's at the same level as you, forcing you to tilt your head upwards at him. the heels of his shoes echo loudly on impact against the quartz steps. "there are boundaries i must follow in my duties. so whilst i won't be requiring my own room, i also know not to overstep into your privacy." he scans your face, looking for any hint of understanding. then, he adds plainly, "i will be guarding your bedroom door outside. you can rest assured."

you can feel a sly smirk creeping up onto your face, "shame. here i was thinking that you would follow me everywhere. speaking of," you make an exaggerated movement out of looking down at the watch on your wrist. "i should better shower; it's getting late."

sicheng's face is unfazed but still, you simper, looking pleased with yourself.

he stalks behind you wordlessly as you make the rest of your way up to your bedroom. and sure enough, he stops and stands outside to the right of your door.

"you can't be serious," the thought in your head slips out through your lips.

he doesn't look back. "i'm afraid your father is a vey serious man, miss ln."

how does father expect this man to stand outside of your room all night long? assuming he doesn't sleep, given the 24/7 hour-ness as mentioned in your father's spiel, how will he even have to energy to do his job?

you study the profile of his back for a few seconds before pushing your door closer to the frame, not completely shutting it.

your bedroom connects to an en suite bathroom. to say it's grand is underplaying the extent of luxury which you live in. the room is unnecessarily spacious with marble counters and a tall ceiling with intricately moulded details. a round bathtub sits in the centre, integrated directly into a gazebo-like fixture. a golden chandelier hangs overhead the bathtub, softly lighting up the room, creating a warm atmosphere. to the right side of the tub, facing across from the mirror and the sink, stands a shower area enclosed by frosted glass doors.

you reach for your zipper on the nape of your neck. you slide your thumb underneath the metal tab and begin to pull it down between your fingers. it budges an inch or two before it gets caught onto the fabric of your dress. "ugh," you vocalise. forcibly, you attempt to get the zipper unstuck, tugging and tugging but it won't shift.

you can only think of one solution.

"uh," you call out loud enough so that your bodyguard outside is sure to hear you. you're not quite sure how you should address him; calling him by his name feels weirdly a bit too intimate.

putting you out of your misery, he responds, "yes?" from outside in the halls.

"could you... come in?"

there's a break before he answers back to you. "i'm afraid that's unbecoming of me unless there's an emergency, miss ln."

you roll your eyes, despite knowing he's not there to see. "there is an emergency. will you come in now?"

"...are you decent?" he seems to contemplate his words carefully.

"god, you're frustrating," you blurt out, "yes, i'm decent- who do you think i am?"

there's a brief pause in time before you hear footsteps step into your bedroom. you can see him stop in front of your bathroom doorway in your peripheral.

you look over at him, standing tall and poised with his hands clasped in front of him. "what's the emergency, miss?"

turning your back against him, you sweep your hair over your shoulders, baring your zipper. "i can't get this unstuck."

he doesn't take any steps towards you, "and you needed me to come in for this?"

your patience grows thinner and thinner by the second. "if i could've got it myself, i wouldn't have called for you, would i?"

with this, he takes one... two... and three steps. just three steps before he's in reach of you. you can feel a warmth draw closer to you. turning your head towards your shoulder, you can see him standing behind you in the mirror. without knowing, you hold your breath. he goes to pull gingerly with one hand on the back neckline of your dress, the other trying to unwedge the fabric jammed underneath the zipper. he frees the tab and smoothly, he unzips you down to the middle of your back, stopping himself from releasing the zip all the way down. immediately, he drops his head and removes his hands from your dress while simultaneously taking a large step back from you.

"if that's all, i will leave you to rest for tonight, miss ln." his head is still angled downwards, eyes glued to the bathroom tiling.

you mutter, "thank you," finally taking in a breath again.

he nods, and begins to step backwards out of the bathroom. before he disappears completely from your field of vision, he is stopped by your expulsion of an 'um.'

without a word, he waits for what you have next to say. turning around to face him, he lifts his head and meets your eyes, still as emotionless as they were when you two were on the stairs.

"goodnight, sicheng."

you can see his chest rise, and fall before he speaks again. "goodnight, miss ln."

there's gentle thumping at the door but you can't be sure. your head and senses are foggy from sleep. your eyelids remain shut, trying to phase out the knocking.

"miss ln?"

for a brief moment, you don't recognise the voice calling out for your name. it is much deeper than the normal voice of your housemaid. your eyes open to a squint to see the morning sun rays surging into your room through the mesh veil of your curtains. another part of the garden can be seen through the windows to the right of your bed.

"miss ln?" sicheng calls out again.

"yes?" groggily, you answer as you push yourself up, propping your back against the cushioned headboard.

"your housemaid informs me that you have errands to run today."

your head snaps, remembering what today is. the gala.

he continues speaking, "i tried to send some of my men to help carry out your errands for you instead, but i was told to get your permission."

you manoeuvre out of your bed, tossing the throw blanket off of you. heading directly for the double doors, you swing them open to find dong sicheng standing right outside with his arms behind him, his head bowed. the sudden movement causes him to jolt his head upwards.

"no, i'll go," you scan him quickly up and down. he's dressed in the exact same outfit as last night, hair still combed over only a bit more disheveled. you want to ask if he really stood outside of your room while you slept throughout the whole night, but you know what he will say. your father never made promises he can't follow up on, mainly because it was never him personally who fulfilled his promises.

sicheng, looking caught offguard for the first time quickly steels his face back again into his trademark stoicness. "then, i shall accompany you." he gives your get-up one swift look down, then back up. "i'm ready whenever you are."

feeling only slightly annoyed at his gesture, you close the door on him and go to get dressed.

...

sicheng sits next to you in the car. the driver in front seems to pay no attention to his presence. you glance over, trying to make your staring not as conspicuous, but to no avail. his posture is perfectly upright and his hair looks more groomed than when he was stood outside your bedroom door.

"do i look to your standard, miss ln?" it's only when he finishes asking his question that he meets your gaze. it's clear in that moment that he didn't expect an answer to his rhetorical question.

feeling only slightly embarrassed, you lower you eyebrows at him, "do you remember last night when you said you don't get paid to talk?" feigning curiosity with your head tilted to the side.

the slightest smile breaks on his face. "very well," eyes diverting away from you and onto the road out in front through the windshield.

the rest of the ride is silent, which your chauffeur took as a sign to turn on the radio. the first piece that blares out ever so softly is liebestraum no. 3.

the car then comes to a halt in front of a private wine bar. sicheng opens his door and holds onto the handle as he waits for you to shuffle out behind him. then, he shuts it and waves the driver off to a direction. you readjust your outfit from having been sat down.

carefully, you traipse your way towards the entrance of the wine bar, being deliberate to not place a heel down in between the crevices of the cobblestone that lined the courtyard.

"i'm surprised you haven't voiced your displeasure for me going out of the house, yet," you remark, "surely, my father told you i was not to be let out."

for having been against the idea of having a bodyguard just yesterday, you seem to have grown rather used to having sicheng around you rather quickly. you can only hope that he doesn't pick up on this.

"not to be let out without protection, yes."

he's quick on the draw. you pause right in front of the heavy mahogany door, the top of it curved inwards to a sharp point. your eyes gloss over the coffee brown grain pattern before you place a palm onto it and push inwards.

...

it's been a few hours since you've arrived back home from the wine bar, having picked out the perfect gift for the gala host tonight. sunset falls upon the horizon and that's your cue to start getting ready.

you've always had a habit of putting on your makeup by yourself as opposed to having someone else do it for you. however, that habit doesn't carry over to styling your hair.

you're sat in front of a full length mirror, a baroque style detailing frames the entirety of it. priscilla, one of the housemaids who's similar in age to you, stands behind you, attentively pinning the hair in the back of your head into a detailed updo. you look at your dress in the mirror. the square neckline makes space for your freshwater pearl necklace that glows softly against your skin.

"and... all done," priscilla announces.

you turn your head in the mirror to get a better view of her work, "it's a beautiful job." you stand from your seat, catching her eyes in the reflection, "thank you."

she smiles brightly, her youth glints in her eyes. "here," she looks to the side to grab a pair of long silk gloves, holding it out to you. you pull them over your left hand all the way up to your elbow, then your right, struggling a little over the bandage wrapped around your palm.

after tucking your purse in between your arm and your ribs, you're ready to head out.

sicheng is already in the foyer, waiting for you. when your heels first click against the quartz stairs, his eyes darts toward you at the top of the spiralled staircase. you delicately place a hand on the iron banister and as you make your way down the steps, you glide your gloved palm along the railing.

sicheng watches your every action.

when you reach the bottom of the staircase, you shake your head gently to push back the strands of hairs that had fell in front of your face.

"how do i look?" you ask with a teasing smile.

you can see sicheng's lips part faintly, only for him to clear his throat right after. "as you do normally, miss ln." he subtly straightens his posture and pushes his shoulders back. "after you," he gestures towards the front door.

...

sicheng pulls open the door closest to you. he extends his palm towards you, with his other hand cradling a small, rectangular wooden box. you take his hand as you lift one foot out of the vehicle and onto the tiled courtyard of the xiao family house.

the butler comes to greet you. you've known him and the family that he works for for as long as you can remember, and seeing him again tonight struck a chord within you. a certain spark of gloom settles inside your stomach when you see him smile, his wrinkles deeper and his hair greyer than you remember.

the butler leads you down the main entrance hall towards the gala that's already well under way behind the closed doors. you've been down these halls more than a handful of time, the same paintings have been hung up on the walls for at least a decade, but the air of elegance and grandeur that the xiao family home exudes never fails to knock your breath out of you.

sicheng notices you seemingly lost in a thought, and before the trio of you reaches the superfluously tall double doors, he quietly utters, "is everything alright?" being mindful and not wanting the butler to overhear if something was amiss.

you glance over your shoulder, out of your trance, "yes."

he doesn't press, anymore. even if he did want to ask more, ask if you were sure, he knew his place, and so he didn't pry further.

the butler pushes open the double doors and a gentle puff of wind blows against you, travelling along with the music to your ears. "enjoy the gala," he smiles, and you return his display of friendliness.

as he walks back down the other direction, sicheng inches ever so slightly closer to you.

the cold and eerily too refined hallway is starkly contrasted by the lively atmosphere of the gala ballroom. attendees are chatting, networking, dancing. they all look extremely distinguished; pearls and diamonds and crystals draped all over them. the chandelier hanging in the middle of the ballroom is glistening, and a small orchestra is performing at one end of the hall.

you pause on top of the stairs for a moment, taking in the scene in front of you, and simultaneously searching for a face. then, you find it.

you begin to make your way down to where everyone else was on the dance floor, and sicheng follows closely behind you. as you weave your way in between the attendees, your senses are hit and overwhelmed with notes upon notes of fragrances. it transitions from roses to vanilla, cedarwood to bergamot. individually, these aromas would typically be more than pleasant, but combined together along with the heat emanating off everyone, it muddled your senses so much that a headache began to creep its way into your temples. it's clear as you manoeuvre your way across the dance floor, that sicheng stood out to everyone as an unusual date of yours. they would flash a faint smile at you then take one, or two glances at the man trailing behind you. guards weren't uncommon, yes, but to bring a personal guard to a gala hosted by a well respected member of the upper echelon? that was uncommon.

finally, you're face to face with the person you've been looking for: the host.

"mrs. xiao."

"yn!" she enthusiastically greets you, a beaming smile on her face. her arms open up and pull you into a warm embrace. "goodness, i haven't seen you in so long!" she expresses as she begins to pull away.

"i know, it's been way too long," you politely respond.

if you were talking to anyone else in this room, you'd be dead before you were caught speaking so casually to them. but you grew up next to mrs. xiao and her family. her son, dejun, was practically your childhood best friend. well, it's hard to tell if a best friend really is a best friend when that was your only option, but nonetheless, your two families were close.

"oh!" you voice as you turn around to sicheng. you stretch your hands towards the wooden box that he was carrying and he places it gently into your palms. "here, i got you some merlot," you turn back around, "i asked barnie at the winery to give me your favourite," a curl stretched your lips taut.

a wave of gratitude washes over mrs. xiao's face. "you're still as thoughtful as ever, yn." she takes the box into her arms, and as if on cue, someone dressed in a neat uniform comes towards mrs. xiao and takes the box away so that she doesn't have to carry it herself for more than a couple of seconds.

and right at the moment, dejun approaches where you are stood in the centre of the ballroom, walking alongside some other guests, one you know, the other you don't.

mrs. xiao turns to him, trying to contain some of her agitation as she mutters, "where have you been this whole night?"

"i've been in here, ma," he responds equally as quiet, but more passive aggressively, disguised with that bright smile of his.

mrs. xiao turns her head away from him with her nose up, trying to swallow down her irritation. "anyway," she breathes out. "dejun, aren't you going to introduce your friends?"

he took that as a sign to do as his mother asked, but not before sighing a shallow breath first. in an instant, he puts on a charming smile. you know he's not doing it for you, he couldn't care less about being charming towards you; both of you knew you would see right through it anyway. "yn, this is rin. rin, yn. and hendery's here as well, i guess," he mutters the last part of his sentence.

you stifle back a smirk at dejun's attempt at humour and extend your palm for a handshake with rin. "it's a pleasure to meet you." she doesn't say anything but shakes your hand gently and mirrors your smile back to you, except hers looks very practiced and unnatural.

mrs. xiao tuts her teeth, so subtly that it's barely audible. she turns her body into you ever so slightly, leaning forward and muttering under her breath into your ear, "i really wish you were here to stop my jun兒 from falling into these circles. look at them, no manners at all."

dejun watches almost awkwardly, then he switches the attention onto you. "what about you, yn? aren't you going to introduce us to your little armpiece?" he cocks his head in sicheng's direction.

mrs. xiao shoots dejun a stern look, one that carries the weight of a thousand words. but in front of such a crowd, the extent of her reprimanding ends at, "don't speak so crass."

dejun only shoots up his eyebrows in response, and sucks in a quiet breath.

"this is dong sicheng," on instinct, your hand sweeps out to the side of you and sicheng nods. "he's the... bodyguard, that my father hired."

"bodyguard, huh?"

"don't start, xiaojun," you try your best to make it seem subtle enough, but dejun chuckles at the sight of you rolling your eyes.

mrs. xiao cuts through the brief pause in conversation, "well, we would love to stay and chat more but i should go greet some of my other guests. you don't mind, yn?"

"no, of course, not."

mrs. xiao gives you one last squeeze before she's off again waving halfway across the room to somebody else, and dejun and his friends trail behind her.

you're about to turn around when a waiter passes by you and sicheng, one hand balancing a tray full of glasses of champagne.

"a drink, miss?"

you pinch the stem of the glass in between your fingers and your thumb. when the waiter offers one to sicheng, he declines.

as you bring your champagne up to your lips, sicheng slips his fingers around the bowl of your glass and forcibly pulls it away from you. "he offered you one," you look at him in disbelief, but he acts as if you didn't say anything.

he hovers the rim of the glass under his nose, swirling the champagne around as he does so. you watch, still half incredulous and half in puzzlement. he brings the rim up against his lips, tipping the glass towards him as he takes the tiniest sip of champagne that you’ve ever seen. as he swallows, he smacks his lips together lightly, then he passes the glass back to you.

“what was that for?” hesitantly, you sit the bowl of the glass back into your palm. you’re not sure if you should sip from the same cup as he did—is that even appropriate in this setting?

“not laced,” he states nonchalantly, eyes darting around the room.

it takes your brain a few seconds to fully process what he just did, and said. “and why would it be laced?” a confusion intertwined with your voice.

sicheng stares at you, not blankly, but not aggressively either. it’s like you can read what he’s doing in his head, going down winding paths to find you an answer, but you can’t read exactly what it is that he’s thinking.

he finally responds after a good few moments of him turning your question over in his head. “you are my responsibility,” he can sense that you are about to object this statement, so he quickly continues. “regardless of what you may think, you are. whatever i do, i do in your best interest. do you understand now?”

truthfully, you want to reply, ‘not quite.’ how does that explain why your drink at a gala held by people you know, people you trust, would be laced?

sicheng leans in close enough so that you can hear him at a whisper, but not so close that people will see and start to speculate. "miss ln, may i remind you you're a successor. i know you've already lived through some threats, but if they were willing to threaten you when you arguably held no power, imagine what they would do if they knew you were taking over your father's position as mayor."

he backs away; face still as cold as steel, not letting anything that he's thinking or feeling show. you can't help but feel a bit shaken at his words. yes, you've received threats before, but they were mostly empty-handed words scribbled on a note. you never thought anything of them, until sicheng said something just now.

"there's no reason people here of all places would want to do anything to me; you're too paranoid." as the words leave your mouth, you can feel your doubt coating your tongue, but you wash it down with some sparkling wine. just a little bit.

sicheng studies your expression for a second, his head tilting slightly to the side. "have you ever heard of a wolf in sheep's clothing, miss ln? maybe you're not paranoid enough," his last word drags off and almost becomes inaudible.

you blink your lashes a couple of times looking up at him, and then an echoing voice pierces right through the ballroom.

"hello everyone! thank you all for attending my little gathering."

both you and sicheng turn your heads to the origin of the sound. mrs. xiao is stood on the little stage that the orchestra has been performing on.

a pleasant smile drawing on her face as she addresses her guests, "it is so great to see so many of you. as you all know, my husband and i-"

the lights cut. the chandelier that was hanging above the dance floor flickers off.

mrs. xiao's voice can be heard again, but this time loudly proclaiming without the help of her microphone over the gasps and murmurs of confusion. "everyone please remain calm—i'm sure the lights will be back on soon."

a sudden pang of fear hits you. your heart thumps faster in your chest, and your breathing becomes shallower and shallower. there's darkness all around you. you try your best to look for, or rather, feel around for sicheng but you remain quiet, knowing it will only add to the chaos. people all around you are shuffling, nudging everyone else. whispers and mumbles all fade into a singular stream of white noise around you. then, you feel a hand grasp on your upper arm. a sense of relief washes over your mind, sicheng. but then, the grasp feels begins to dig deeper and deeper into you, and it becomes clear to you that whatever grasping you isn't a hand. at least, it's not a hand coming into direct contact with you. the fingers digging into your arm are clothed by a silk or sorts; sicheng didn't wear gloves.

you try to free your arm by wrangling it away from whoever it is that has a hold on you. then, in an instant, you feel the hand drop from you so forcibly that it tugged your arm downwards along with it. a new hand has made its way onto you, this time just slightly below your shoulder. you hear a whisper in your ear, "come on, let's go," and the relief you felt earlier resurfaces. this time, it's definitely sicheng's voice.

he takes hold of your wrist, not too tight but just enough to guide you to the exit. as you two are about to head up the stairs to the double doors, the lights flicker back on and mrs. xiao is on stage again.

"there we are. i apologise profusely for that disruption," her hands grip onto the mic stand tightly.

sicheng leads you up the stairs and out the doors without second guessing; everyone else seemed too caught up in the middle of the chaos to notice.

...

back at your home, you and sicheng enter through your foyer and he's spluttering out orders and demands over the phone. as you pass by the large circular mirror hanging in one of the walls of the foyer, you catch a glimpse of your reflection. you double take. one of your ears are still adorned by the beautiful pearl earring that your father had got you, but your other one is missing.

sicheng gets off of the phone that he's been on since the beginning of the car ride home. then, he notices you staring at your reflection in the mirror. "what's the matter?"

you give a gentle shake of your head, fingers drawing at your bare earlobe, "nothing, just one of my earrings is gone."

"i'll have my men try to find it for you," he responds without missing a beat. "miss ln, are you sure that nothing else happened whilst the lights went out?" his eyebrows curve in a slight s-shape.

"yes, i already told you. someone grabbed me by the arm, but that was it. maybe they just thought i was someone they knew."

sicheng shows no reaction to your theory, "i will have this investigated, miss ln. i advise you to get some rest," he says with a bow of his head.

your nightly routine goes by like a blur. priscilla has been dismissed for the night, so you undo your hair, your gown, and clean off your makeup all by yourself, but your mind isn't fully in the present.

sicheng went off after telling you to get some rest, presumably to inform your father about what'd happened. you don't know for certain if he's still speaking to your father, or if he's standing outside your door right now.

it's not that your mind is dwelling on what happened; in fact, you are precisely thinking of nothing. everything in your vision passes by you like you're watching someone else lead their life. even as you get changed, crawl into bed, and try to drift to sleep.

suddenly, you hear a creak from outside your window. your eyes shoot open. trying your best to calm yourself, you reason that it's probably just mice who'd made their way into your garden. a strong gust of wind blows past. then, silence.

and another creak. all logic and rationale flys out of your mind. the only thing you can think of to do is...

"sicheng!"

you tried your best to hold your own earlier, down in the foyer, but right now the sense of urgency in your voice betrays you. sicheng bursts into your room, the buttons of the collar of his shirt undone.

"yes, miss ln?"

his eyes are solely focused on you, despite you looking out towards the windows.

"there's... i heard some weird noises," you gesture with your head pointing at the garden.

sicheng follows your gaze, then he looks back at you. he could tell you that you're in your own home, that you're safe, but instead, he walks over to your windows and draws open your curtains. "there's nothing here, miss ln." hoping that he can provide you with some reassurance, he looks back at you, "we've already done a perimeter check, you're safe here, i assure you."

you drop your eyes, responding with a gentle nod of the head.

"i'll be outside," he says as he begins to make his way back to the door.

before he can reach the handle, you stop him, "wait." he looks at you with an expectant expression. "can't you just stay here?"

even though he's a distance away, you notice a flinch in his brows as he registered your words. "i'm afraid that's not appropriate, miss ln." he says this, but he doesn't take another step.

"there," you point towards the sofa chair to the right side of your bed, "at least just stay there." you wanted to add a 'please,' maybe plead with him, but your dignity had to be kept even if you were fearful.

he doesn't protest as much as you thought he would. quietly, he shuts your door and makes his way to the chair.

your fingers hop from one note to another, pressing down with force and lifting again at the flick of your wrist. a familiar tune emanates throughout the room, rising up to the skylight, then sinking back down again.

your hands dance along the keys of the grand piano at the bottom of your staircase. a bittersweet melody fills your ears, and as you come to a decrescendo in the piece, the faint sound of footsteps through the marble halls overtake your playing. you swiftly turn your head around.

sicheng is stood behind you. under the bright morning light, his cheekbones stand out prominently. "i've been looking for you, miss ln," his chest falls as he says this.

"you dozed off," you turn your attention back to the piano, "i didn't want to wake you."

"i apologise; it won't happen again."

"you need to rest, too," you raise your hands and gently set them on top of the keys, "do you even sleep?"

there's a slight break in between your asking of the question and his answer. "occasionally, but not when i'm supposed to be on duty."

you turn back around, "well, like you said: i'm safe here." you scan him up and down, he's changed out of the outfit he wore to the gala last night, but all his outfits resemble each other. a black button up shirt, a fitted black blazer, black suit paints, a black tie, and a small white brooch on the lapels of his blazer. "do you play?"

he looks to be slightly caught offguard, "no. well, yes but-"

"play something for me."

you shuffle yourself to one side of the bench, making room for sicheng next to you. he slowly walks around and slides into the spot you've made for him. for the first time, you can visibly see that every one of his actions are carried out with hesitation.

his posture is perfect, head slightly tilted downwards and a curve at his wrist as his fingertips lay upon the whites of the piano keys. he clears his throat. then, a single note as he presses down with his index finger. the beginning is slow, slower than the piece was intended to be, but you know what he's playing regardless. nocturne op. 9 no. 1. there's a certain silent agony in the way he punctuates the flow of the melody. the second of the set of nocturnes that chopin had composed has always been regarded as chopin's more famous piece of work over this one. yet, the manner in which sicheng plays this piece makes you wonder why.

the stiffness that was prevalent in his body is now gone, fully immersed in the rhythm. the crescendo comes devastatingly, he leans forward into it, the melody tugging at your chest despite it sounding a bit brighter than the introduction of the piece. you watch in silence as his fingers glide and cross over each other masterfully, a sonorous tone emitting from his movements.

he doesn't finish the piece, but he finds a place to stop after a minute or so of playing.

his fingers linger on the notes as the melody fades out gradually.

"you play beautifully," softly, you remark, "where did you learn?"

he lifts his hands from the keys, clasping them together on his lap. "thank you—my mother taught me."

you watch as he swallows, his adam’s apple dipping slightly. a thought occurs to you. you barely know anything about this man who’s supposed to protect you. maybe that’s for privacy, confidentiality, or security reasons but, there’s a certain yearning in you that wants to find out more about him. after all, trust can’t be built without a foundation. you just don’t know where to prod.

“…and what about your dad?”

sicheng glances over at you, slightly confused at your sudden interest in him. his eyebrows flinch again. “he, uh, used to work for your father. that’s why i’m here. my family owes a lot to your father.”

he gulps again.

you’re not completely sure how to navigate through this conversation. do you ask where his father is now? what if it’s a sensitive spot, why else would sicheng be acting this uncharacteristically. his cold and cool demeanor seemingly melted away. “your father… is he…”

you don’t finish your sentence, but sicheng knows what you’re hinting at. “no, no. he’s just retired. too many injuries on the job.” he clears his throat and stands up from the bench. “sorry, i didn’t mean to intrude on your space, miss ln.” he begins to walk back around the bench.

you can’t help but let out a faint chuckle. “drop the title already. it’s just yn.”

he’s standing tall, hands clasped in front of him, and he purses his lips together. he dips his head rather jerkily, “as you wish.”

then, a ping sounds out.

you pick up your phone that was laid out on the top cover of the piano, and sicheng fishes for his in the inside pockets of his blazer. as he brings out his phone, you begin to hear a vibration sounding out. he holds it in his hand and flashes a quick glance at you, “excuse me,” then he accepts the call. as he brings it up to his ear, he spins on his heel and start to walk off into a distant hallway.

you divert your attention back onto your screen and begin to see messages popping up at the bottom. ones from dejun that read:

"my mum would like to apologise to everyone here about what happened yesterday."

it's sent to the group chat thread that you rarely respond to, though, you do keep up with its messages.

then, another:

"i don't believe in apologies without actions, so you're all cordially invited to come to dreamers' oasis in d119 tomorrow night."

"on me."

the last message was an important detail. you click on the notification bubble and already see others typing in the group chat.

hendery writes, "you are so gonna regret saying that."

a tiny smile creeps its' way onto your face. your thumbs begin moving on the keyboard; hitting send on a message that says, "hendery's going to bankrupt you," which earned you a dislike from dejun.

he ignores your comment, "will you finally be joining us yn? you know, seeing as it's your last week as a free woman."

the last part of his sentence hits you; maybe not to that extreme but it is your last week before you have to take on your father's responsibilities.

every time dejun invites you to a night out, it's most of the time a no brainer and not in a positive way. all the clubs and bars that your friends choose are out of your district's boundaries. and it's not like you didn't have clubs and bars in this district, but the fun ones—as dejun puts it—are only in district 119. you've only taken the risk a couple of times, but now, with especially an extra pair of eagle eyes on you, the possibility of sneaking out is practically 0.

before you can respond, hendery already sent out a message in your place, "have you seen her little boyfriend yesterday? there's no way man."

as much as you want to disagree, you can't. there is no way.

"not my boyfriend," you finally type out.

messages keep popping up on screen, a plan coming together with the people that can go. before you exit out of the thread, you type in "i'll see what i can do," but you stop short of pressing send.

quietly, you head off in the same direction as sicheng, scanning the halls for any sign of him. you're not quite sure what you'll do once you see him. beg him? please let me go out with my friends and get wasted? no. you haven't reached that point, yet; you still have some decorum within you.

you spot him still talking over the phone behind a marble pillar. as silently as possible, you sidle over to where he is, not wanting to disrupt him. once you're close enough, you catch glimpses of his conversation that he's having: "do you understand? whatever you do... we can't let her find out what happened."

your brain made the connect pretty quickly, the 'her' in question had to be you—who else? and what is he keeping from you? he continues speaking but nothing is going through you. all you can think about is, what is he not telling me? as quietly as you came, you retrace your steps back into the piano room.

you'd be lying if you said there wasn't a spark of fury beginning to catch within you. if you are to trust sicheng, why would he purposefully keep something from you? the more you think about it, the more agitated you grew. the fact that he seemed to treat you like a child needing protection every step along the way annoyed you—and what if his intention wasn't to protect you? your head can only spin with theories and speculations.

you unlock your phone again, and hit send on the last message you typed out.

...

your father wanted to have dinner with you tonight, alongside sicheng, of course. and you know now after sitting down to begin your meal, he really wanted to have dinner with sicheng tonight.

"any updates?" your father directed the inquiry towards your bodyguard.

the three of you are sat on a long, oval table. your father sitting at one end, and you and sicheng sitting across from him, sharing the other end. the candelabra stands in between you and your father in the middle.

"no, not yet, sir. we're still trying to investigate the intent behind yesterday's actions."

he finishes his sentence before continuing to cut into his ribeye. you sit adjacent to him, observing every movement he takes. as he stabs into the meat with his fork and brings it up into his mouth. he sets his fork down on the edge of the plate, bringing the napkin laid flat on his lap up as he chews.

"yn, you're not hungry?" your father's voice booms from across the room, breaking your attention away from sicheng.

you look down at your plate, barely touched aside from you swirling the sauce around. "no, i'm afraid not." you set down the fork that you have been toying with flat on the tablecloth. you pull the napkin from your lap and place it on the other side of your plate. standing up, you voice, "i'm a bit weary tonight." you spot sicheng shifting to get up from his seat in your peripheral, "no, no, please finish dinner. father, would you excuse me?"

"well... of course," with your father's approval, sicheng sits back down. you turn around, the heels you're wearing click at a steady pace as you're headed for the doors.

you haven't spoken directly to sicheng since dinner last night. the whole of today you spent cooped up in the library. that's not to say that you were being passive, though.

you haven't forgotten about dejun's invitation for drinks tonight—you just needed the perfect cover.

it's around 8pm, your maids have come and gone bringing you food and tea from time to time. you glance at the grandfather clock propped up against the wall in between all the bookshelves.

you slide the book that you've held in your hands back into its spot on the shelf. rather than actually reading it, your eyes have been skimming the pages and the words scattered throughout absent-mindedly. you turn your plan over around in your mind as you did so, and you have been for the past few hours, at least.

you drag your feet over the wooden floorboards of the library and crack open the doors. you peak your head out into the crack, then the rest of your body follows. oddly enough, sicheng isn't standing right in front of the room.

like a stereotypical action movie, you give the hallways a quick glance in one direction, then the other. you've never felt as much like a thief in your own home. sneaking, tiptoeing around the hallways, caution bubbling in every part of you.

when you reach your bedroom doors, footsteps sound behind you.

the looming presence of someone else doesn't speak, the only indication of them even being there is the shadow of them casted over your own feet.

you turn around, and you're met with the face that you've come to expect these past few days. "i'm... having an early night in."

sicheng's expression is unfaltering. the return of his stoicism makes you feel like a schoolchild being reprimanded by some vague authority figure; desperate to give more and more answers, to keep speaking and reasoning.

he watches your frozen body, as if you'd been caught doing something you're not supposed to, when in reality you're just stood outside of the doors to your own bedroom. "just thought i'd tell you," you add.

"well, don't let me stop you." his torso leans forward ever so slightly, the tone of his voice catching on the edge of a faint whisper.

the handle of the door clicks as you push onto it. when you look back to shut it, sicheng repositions himself with his back to the wall that lines the outside of your room.

once you're completely alone, you strip yourself of the sleeping clothes that you'd been wearing for entirety of today immediately and go over to your closet where you'd already hung up an outfit that you picked out last night.

you slip it on hastily: a tight fitting camisole top with a miniskirt, paired with some knee high leather boots and an oversized jacket for warmth. most of this outfit doesn't even look like it belongs to you. the people in your life knows you for wearing pretty dresses and skirts that reach your knees at least, but if tonight's going to be anything close to fun, then you need to look the part. you can't afford sticking out like a sore thumb, especially in district 119.

you'd texted your friends—or rather xiaojun, and his friends—earlier, asking if they could park right outside the gazebo at the far end of the garden, waiting for you to show up. this plan has worked precisely 2 times before with a 100% success rate, and you're counting on it working for a third time.

you would open the doors to your balcony, climb over the balustrade and scale your way downwards on the water pipe right next to your balcony landing. the garden wasn't fenced in like the front of the house. after all, this house was on private land belonging to your father; anyone who tried to trespass would've been seen by at least one person working on the property. so, it was an easy enough escape from the garden compared to your exit route down from your room.

you walk through the gazebo, hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket as you try to shake the cold of the night off of you. dejun's suv is there, headlights off.

they must've seen you even in the dark, because once you're about a step or two away, the passenger door to the suv swings open—dejun himself in the driver's seat.

...

after finding a quick place to park, you and the group walk a block to where the club is, having had a drink or two on the way here.

the streets are anything but quiet. the heavy void of the sky sits atop the city like a dome, the neon signs colouring the deep blue like a palette of dulled paint. the closer and closer you get to the club, the music already begins to boom from within. laughter erupts from the rest of the group from a joke that you missed.

a pair stands right outside the entrance of the club, one of them leaning against the brick wall whilst the other squats; cigarettes in both their hands. you hold your breath as you walk right into a fresh cloud of smoke, courtesy of the man standing up.

on one hand, you want to let loose tonight; have fun. but on the other, you can't help but wonder if you were meticulous enough, or even at all. there's no guarantee that sicheng wouldn't just open your door and find that you are nowhere within the vicinity. but he wouldn't for no reason, you try to calm your racing mind.

you find yourself at the back of the pack, watching everyone in front of you filter into the entrance, disappearing into the darkness surrounded by a rectangular frame.

dejun is right in front of you, he takes note of your hesitation. he comes back down from the steps leading to the entrance stopping right next to you.

lowering his head, he looks at you through his brows, "don't tell me you're gonna pussy out when you're right outside."

you try to dismiss the doubts flaring around in your head. "you wish. drinks still on you, right?" you shoot him a quick wink, then stride up the steps and like others before you, submerge into the darkness.

and immediately, flashing lights take over the darkness. a neon green fog floats just above the floor. a circular platform stands in the middle of the club with a metal pole going through the centre of it. the club itself is a lot bigger than you'd imagined, given what the exterior of it looked like. circle booths surround the platform and smaller ones are peppered all throughout. the ceiling is tall with decorative vines and ivies hanging from it, not low enough for anyone to reach. 2 bartenders stand behind the bar, busying themselves with orders upon orders for a room of, what looks to be about 200 people. a small, spiralled staircase stands to the right of the bar, leading to what resembles a loft platform with people drinking and laughing up on it.

it's as if your feet are stuck to the ground as you take in the scene before you. dejun places a hand on the small of your back. he utters right by your ear, "come on, that way," as he guides you towards one of the bigger booths right in front of the platform.

you plop down on the red leather couch, warmed against the back of your thigh.

remixes of popular songs blast unapologetically out of the speakers that lined every few inches of the walls. you can hardly hear the people in front of you speaking, debating what drinks to get first. you lean forward, wanting to get an in on what they're discussing. shots, shots, shots. after a word or two from dejun, everyone agrees that they should do shots first. melon flavoured, to be exact.

dejun vanishes into the group of people crowding around the bar.

"so, yn, how's leaving your house for the first time ever?" one of dejun's friends sprouts up.

you can feel your breathing pick up its pace. you weren't expecting much conversation seeing as 'friends' isn't exactly the label you'd put on these people, with the exception being dejun, and maybe hendery.

"great actually, thanks." you slide back into your spot on the booth, only slightly cramped with the amount of people sharing one area.

hendery lands a punch on the guy's arm, "watch how you speak to our princess." a smirk picks up on the guy's lips as hendery finishes his sentence, his tongue poking into the crevice of his cheek.

and just as quickly as the attention turned to you, it leaves you even faster. comments are thrown around about the female bartender.

"hendery, i'll give you £100 if you don't ask for her number tonight," someone chimed.

hendery quickly steals a glance at his phone before returning his eyes to the bettor, "i guess we're not leaving until after midnight, then." he sits back, throwing an arm around the girl next to him.

dejun makes his way back, hands holding as many shots as he could—which was 8. not all of them were filled equally, which you can only assume was attributed to dejun's bumping into people as he was on his way back. the small glasses were filled with a somewhat cloudy liquid. everyone picked up a shot as he set them down on the glass table, including you.

"to xiaojun bankrolling us!" a voice chirped up with a glass in the air. everyone else followed with a chorus of cheers, clinking the shots together before tipping their heads back and downing it.

as you swallow, there's a hint of sweetness from the melon flavour but the vodka is inescapable. you can feel it travel all the way with a burn down your oesophagus until it settles in your stomach, a heat spreading from it.

...

the overwhelming boom of the music does not phase you anymore. you are past the point of hazy where the only thing you can comprehend is what is immediately happening in front of you. object permanence? gone.

for the past few hours, you and the rest of the group you came here with downed shot after shot, drank beer after beer. no matter how high your tolerance was, tonight definitely pushed you over that line.

"xiaojun!" you shout across to your friend at the bar. he acknowledges you with a quick wave of his hand.

the others have their arms around each other's shoulders, foundering as they approach the exit. you lean against one of the walls right in front of the fog machine, waiting for dejun.

"come on, yn!" one of the girls shout, grabbing your wrist in her hands and linking you to the rest of the group. dejun finally makes his way back over, and instinctually you fling an arm around him, too.

the bunch of you look ridiculous; grown adults stumbling their way out of a club in the dark. half present smiles seemingly glued onto your faces. all of you count together as one by one, you take the couple of steps down onto the pavement.

once back on the street, you open your eyes to more than just a squint. the road looks the same as before. time has no effect on this district, neon signs still alight with strangers roaming the streets at any hour of the day. you bask in the warm orange glow of the lamp post directly above you, and you scan around for dejun's suv.

and that's when you see something across the road.

a tall, lean figure slanted against the hood of a car. you recognise his posture all too well.

oh shit. shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

you'd gotten so carried away tonight that you completely forgot that you weren't even supposed to be here. the drinks flushed every doubt, every worry out of your mind. it is only when your eyes see sicheng standing right across the road from you, and your mind consciously registers that, that every thing you tried to forget comes rushing back to you.

"xiaojun," you mutter under your breath, but he's not entirely in it, either.

sicheng spots the group of you, head tilted, and that's the moment he recognises you, in an outfit he'd never seen you in before, around people that he has seen before. he pushes himself off of the hood and crosses the road. you have exactly 3 seconds before you're done for.

the night is blustery, gentle, but breezy nonetheless. he's wearing a white button up with his sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone. as he's making his way towards you, his hands are tucked into the pockets of his trousers.

sicheng takes 3 steps onto the pavement that you're on, and you are met face to face with the guard that you attempted to escape tonight. he quickly eyes the rest of your group, too drunk to even comprehend what is happening and who he is. a misstep happens and three of them stumble, fall, and stack on top of one another. they laugh it off.

he returns his gaze to you. "miss ln."

it's magical the way you suddenly feel sober. confrontation is one hell of an antidote. "listen," you breathe out. but it's no use, even you know it.

sicheng spares you no pity. "shall we head home?"

you don't know what you prefer: him still being cool and calm and collected, or have him be so seethingly furious with you like your father would be. in that moment, you decide that his reaction is much worse. how can he stand there with the state of you like this and still ask such a question with a steeled face? does he not care?

you look over to dejun, who has now walked around you to help his other friends get up.

trying to make up your mind whether to plead your case in that moment, there is something else that you can decide easier. going home with sicheng. there's no use fighting it, and frankly, you didn't want to. so, you take a step, passing by where sicheng stood in front of you, and then another, and until you're across the road about to get into the car. your friends left on the curb—they'll manage, you figured.

your body can't help but shake as you step into the passenger seat. a jittery feeling overtakes you. do you explain? do you not? what even is the explanation?

sicheng gets into the driver seat. he turns on the engine, back up from the parking spot, and begins to drive off, doing this all without a word.

you steal a glance over at him, not wanting to appear too sheepish. a sudden apologetic sentiment freezes your body, but that same feeling quickly turns sour. you open your mouth to speak, but no noise leaves you. quickly, you snap your head back around and lean against the window. the quietness of the car ride has you feeling all the effects of the events tonight.

"you didn't think i'd know?"

your eyes shift over. sicheng's focus is entirely on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that the veins on his arms are prominent under the moonlight. he might not sound angry, but his body language gives it away.

"no, i thought..." you take a deep breath in. "i don't know what i thought," you finally admit.

if he'd heard your answer, he gave no indication of it. he continues driving, fingers still clenched tightly around the wheel. his silence lingers around for a good few minutes. no music, nothing; just the sound of the friction of the tyres speeding against tarmac.

"if something had happened to you, do you know what that means? for all of us?" he asks, in a tone that's more or less condescending.

you stay quiet—you didn't see a point in arguing your case. or maybe it was just the alcohol taking the fight out of you, the steady rocking of the ride seem to begin to lull you to sleep.

the rest of the car ride home was silent. sicheng's grip never loosened. and you can tell none of his frustration dissipated by the way he slammed the car door shut.

as noiselessly as possible, the two of you slide in through the main doors into the foyer. you pull on the heels of your boots to take them off, struggling with your balance slightly. as you're about to make your way up to your room with your boots in your hands, sicheng stops you with one statement.

"i won't tell your father."

you turn, feeling a disjointed mix of emotions. you're relieved, but confused...? and grateful, but suspicious. "why?" you bluntly ask, questioning his ulterior motives if he has any.

sicheng takes a deep breath in and rolls his head to his left side. he takes a single step towards you. the rest of the house is dark, the only light being from the two sconces on either sides of the foyer. as he looks into your eyes, his irises are two swirling rings of mystery. you can never guess what he's thinking.

"because it won't look good on either one of us," he whispers. "if you wanted to go out, you could've just told me and i would've helped you," he added, now with a certain softness breaking into his gaze.

your focus shifts from one eye to the other. sicheng can read every wrinkle in your brow and every glint of confusion in your stare. what are you supposed to make of the fact that the man your father hired to watch you like a hawk is willing to help you get up to things your father will never approve of?

"but why?"

it's as if the drinks had broken down your every guard, every filter that you're so used to imposing on yourself. the bluntness in your tone is something even you didn't recognise.

"tonight proved that you would sneak out regardless of circumstances. so, why not tell me so i can at least keep you as safe as i can?"

sicheng finds himself exploring every inch of your face with his gaze, studying the smudged eyeliner and lipstick on you, before meeting your eyes again. he continues, "i have a job to do, you know?"

it seems as though you're not the only one with a broken down barrier. the formality in which he normally speaks with is nowhere to be heard.

"and why should i trust you?" there's an edge in your voice that makes the question come out as offensive. "i can't," you quickly add before he even has a chance to reply.

and now it's his turn to be stumped. your sudden change in attitude evokes a return of the wince in his eyebrows. "what do you mean?" he falters.

"i heard you yesterday." your head shakes, the clear of your eyes glisten with a lack of faith. "what am i supposed to think of you when you're actively hiding something from me?"

it's like a wave of realisation hits sicheng. he recalls the phone call that he took yesterday, and realises what you must've overheard. it takes him a few seconds to collect his thoughts together.

"you can't possibly think that i would want to harm you."

"i don't know you!" you exclaim, maybe a bit too loud for this hour. "you waltz into my life and tell me that you're trying to save me, but i don't know you."

sicheng exhales and drops his head. his chest rises slowly as he takes in a deep lungful of air. "i didn't want to tell you because i didn't want you to feel... betrayed."

your body language communicates all there is to say. you urge him to go on with a shake of your head and a furrowing in your eyebrows.

"we have reason to believe that..." his voice is small, and soft, as if he's laying down cushioning for telling a child that santa claus isn't real. "the person threatening you runs in your immediate coterie."

your friends. that's what he's hinting at, that's what he's explicitly telling you right now. that possibly someone you went out with tonight have reason to threaten you. sicheng thought that telling you now would diffuse the situation, but in fact, it does the opposite.

"isn't that all the more reason for me to know? and you hid it from me for w-"

"yn," he corrects his slip of words, "miss ln." he cuts you off ever so calmly, "i understand that emotions are heightened right now. i think it's best we talk in the morning."

a knot works its way up into your own chest. your frustration is fuelled even more by his coolness. you stare at his ridiculously poised expression, and in that moment, you give up trying to argue.

you finally begin to walk up the stairs, with your boots still in your hands, ready to crash and give out onto your bed.

you wake up the next morning, or rather the same morning, with a throbbing pain in your head. one of your ears feels blocked and no matter what you do to try and make it so that noise isn't muffled as it filters into your ear, it doesn't work.

in the bathroom, you stare at your reflection and are in shock over how badly you removed your makeup last night. eyeliner stains the corners of your eyelids, patches of concealer are still on the sides of your face. you turn on the faucet, wait for it to become warmer, and scrub the remainder of the products off of your face.

in the midst of washing your face, you realise that you haven't had a proper meal since yesterday afternoon, as signalled by a grumbling in your stomach.

as discreetly as possible, you try to get out of your room, taking a gentle step out onto the hallway. you're not entirely sure why you needed to be stealthy, perhaps it's just the aftereffects of last night.

however, your plan to be concealed quickly falls to shambles as sicheng is, as always, guarding your door outside and your father is walking down the hallway heading in your direction. your heart starts to beat faster and faster; if sicheng didn't stick by his words last night then you are dead for all you know. that conversation you had in the foyer didn't leave your mind even for a second when you tried to fall asleep earlier, and you plan on following up on that talk he offered you.

your father reaches your room and stops to take one look at you.

"goodmorning, father." you utter. a tinge of sheepishness can't help but crawl onto the apples of your cheeks.

"goodmorning, dear," he stretches a warm smile directed towards you, and gives a simple nod of the head to sicheng.

so he didn't lie. that's the first thought following your relief that your father isn't absolutely furious with you. you glance at sicheng as your father walks past you continuing his way down the hallway. he flashes you an expression, one that says, 'what did i tell you?'

sicheng keeps his eyes on your father and as soon as he's out of earshot, he mutters, "surprised?"

a look of almost disbelief takes over you. the nerve on this guy. your heart almost jumped out of your chest and he has the cockiness to make a remark like that.

"stop fucking with me. you still owe me an explanation."

sicheng says with a simple shrug, "i've told you everything i know."

before you can speak back and challenge him, one of your housemaids yell out your name from the foyer.

you quickly make your way downstairs with sicheng following right behind you.

you spot priscilla kneeling down to pick up a package left right in front of the doors to the house. "what is it, priscilla?" you ask, as she begins to stand up again.

"i'm not sure—but it's addressed to you, miss," she responds, reading the tag tied to the parcel with a thin ribbon.

it's odd enough that a package made its way directly onto your doorsteps since the mail that you and your father receive are usually intercepted and collected at the mail room, or placed into your father's study. it's even more strange that it's directly addressed to you with your name typed and printed out in a sans-serif font.

you hold the box in one hand as your other goes to unravel the ribbon. you pull the knot through, and the box undoes itself. the 4 walls fall down revealing another note with your name on it, this time handwritten in a sparkly, gold paint.

you pick the note up and twirl it around with your fingers. sure enough, there's a message for you on the back. it looks like it was typed out on a traditional typewriter, it reads: "next time, i'll have your pretty head along with it" signed with kisses.

you suck in a sharp breath, a shock dawning on you. you look down at the opened box, under the note was a cushioning of tissue paper along with one earring. it took you a few seconds to study the singular earring, then it hits you: the pearl earring that you lost at the gala. your fingers begin to tremble, and sicheng watches as you're overcome with theories and conclusions.

he snatches the note from your hands, eyes scanning every word hastily and sees the earring in the box. it doesn't take him time to put two and two together.

immediately, he voices, "priscilla, did you see who left this outside?"

"no, uh, i opened the door because there was a knock and as soon as i saw the parcel with miss ln's name on it, i called for her." priscilla is evidently taken aback by the sharpness of sicheng's voice. her gestures are overt as she explains the situation.

sicheng pulls his phone out and his thumbs slide over the bottom part of his screen as he swiftly sends out a message.

he turns to you, "i'll go look over security footage right now. yn, go back up to your room." he motions over at priscilla as if to tell her that you needed to be escorted upstairs.

usually, you wouldn't just blindly listen to what anyone tells you, but your mind is running at 100 miles per hour. you recognise that gold paint, the writing, the flicks and hairline strokes that stylised your name. you've received a note from the same person before. only that last time, it wasn't as explicit a threat as it is this time.

...

you haven't stepped foot out of your room since sicheng told you to go back this morning. your maids have come up with breakfast and lunch earlier, but now it's well past dinner time, and the food outside your door remains untouched. the sky outside is darkening, with some rogue streaks of orange and pink as the sun dips below the horizon.

nonstop, you've been thinking it over and over in your head. putting together what sicheng told you and what you know yourself. someone close enough to you is threatening your life—but why? sure, there's the obvious reason that in a matter of days, you may possibly take over your father's title of mayor, but who would risk so much to send you a petty note? and everyone in your circle has a good enough status; what would they have to gain from this? surely, there's a blind spot that you must be missing.

your train of thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a knock at your door.

"come in!"

sicheng walks in to find you curled up in bed, knees tucked against your chest. he glances backwards briefly before closing the door behind him, "you didn't eat?"

"i'm not hungry."

you notice that he's not wearing his usual attire. a thin t-shirt covers his torso, and his regular slack pants are replaced by loose-fitting joggers. his footsteps are muted as he approaches you. there seems to be a debate in his mind whether or not he should be approaching you as he stops with at least 10 feet of space in between you and him.

"did you need me for something?" you mutter, patience thinning out on the edge of your voice.

you watch as he opens his mouth, but a response fails to be conjured up without a pause. "no, i just wanted to check on you."

you throw your blanket off of your feet and push yourself off the bed. the distance that sicheng left between the two of you disappears as you draw nearer to him.

you're not entirely sure what to do, or what to say. you look up at him and he returns your gaze. a breath hitches within you that you try your best to stifle. a knot forms in your throat and you swallow hard, dropping your eyes from sicheng.

"hey," he murmurs airily, bringing his hand up to your face. sicheng stops just short of cupping your face in his palms. you reach for his hand, taking it into your own, and he takes that as a sign to delicately graze your cheek with the side of his thumb. the lightness of his touch floats over your skin. "you're okay," he reassures you with a whisper.

it's hard to pinpoint what it is that you're feeling. there were books and lessons when you were growing up on how to be well-mannered, how to hone in your etiquettes, but there were never any rulebooks to teach you how to feel. especially, in a situation like this. how do we know if there's a right way to process our complexities?

you lean into sicheng's touch. "what can i do for you right now?" his tone coming off as a genuine offer of comfort, rather than him sounding like he is indebted to you.

finally, you lift your head, eyes running up against sicheng until it lands onto his again. "just stay with me tonight," though you meant it as a statement, bordering on an order, it ekes out of you with an uncertainty.

he nods, mouthing a soft 'okay.'

with his hand in your grip, you lead him to the edge of your bed. you can feel the hesitance in him, but he doesn't outright stop in his tracks. sliding into your covers, you shuffle over to make room for sicheng. admittedly, he didn't think this was what you meant when you asked him to stay with you tonight. he thought that he would just spend another night in the chair next to your bed, like he did before, but no.

you sit up against the headboard.

"you're... comfortable with this?" his voice is softer than dusk.

you nod, and with that, he slowly slides into your bed, a respectable distance between the two of you.

sicheng lays on his back, one hand behind his hand as you shift closer to him. though he tries his best to hide it on his face, the beating of his heart gives him away when you lay a hand over on his chest.

he rolls onto the arm closer to you, now face to face with you on the bed, leaving your hand in front of his chest on the mattress. he looks at you with a lustre in his eyes, the strong arches of his brows soften and his eyelids flutter.

you're close enough that you can hear the rhythm of his breathing and feel the warmth of his body against you. your fingers inch back onto his chest, running over the fabric of his shirt delicately, and onto his jawline. the tips of your index finger skim the contour of his chin, and up along his cheekbone. your eyes follow your fleeting touch against his face when it runs back down to the corner of his lips.

there's a few seconds in between you inching closer and closer to sicheng, and him whispering.

"we can't."

you stop—your breathing stops as well.

though you don't voice it out loud, the look in your eyes expresses every ounce of regret that you feel. your hand stiffens on sicheng's face, your fingers resting on the edge of his jaw.

his gaze flickers in between your eyes and your lips. it stays on your lips for a moment longer.

"i can't kiss you like we're lovers, when we're not."

the last three words slip out from his lips breathier than the rest.

you draw your body even closer to sicheng's, until there's only a sliver of empty space in between you.

"then, don't kiss me."

you plant a soft peck on his bare neck, and he can't bite back the tiny hum he lets slip. your lips stick to the warmth of his skin, a saltiness to it mixed with the clean scent of his cologne. simultaneously, he tucks your hair behind your ear, fingers laid flat on the nape of your neck as he pulls you in closer.

his hand runs down the side of you, finding a spot on your waist which he grips onto tighter. your teeth grazes against a vein in his neck and a groan catches in his throat.

your hips seem to have a mind of their own as they start swaying forwards, colliding with sicheng's thighs. "what are you doing to me?" he mumbles under his breath, so faintly that you nearly couldn't make it out over your own humming against his neck.

sicheng is overtaken by instinct. his hand find its way between your thighs, sliding up and down over the softness of your skin. you can't help the purrs of approval that tumble out of you involuntarily.

his fingers trace soft, soft rings on the inside of your thighs, stopping just an inch below the hem of your shorts. whatever you've started, you needed to have more of it. you pull your lips away from him and wrap your fingers around his wrist that hovered so close to the heat pooling underneath you. if he wasn't going to touch you, you'd rather have him not tease you at all.

sicheng looks at you through half-lidded eyes with a faint tug on his lips, "put my hand where you want it."

you drag his hand an inch upwards, and almost naturally, sicheng finds his fingers slipping under the fabric of your shorts. "fuck," he breathes out. "you're not wearing anything underneath?" you smirk, unable to say anything because if you did, he would know how insane the raspiness in his voice drove you.

the tips of his fingers trace along the folds of your cunt, smearing your wetness all over. your breath escapes you shakily, and he revels at the sight of you. god. he knew you were pretty but you've never looked prettier than when you're squirming under his touch.

he rubs a loose circle around your clit with his middle finger, eyes steadily watching your every expression. your whole body is electrified. you feel as though you've come alive just from his touch. then, he draws another. you sink your teeth down into your bottom lip, trying to keep your breathing at a constant. the hand that you have wrapped around his wrist untightens itself and it runs up sicheng's arm, nails digging themselves into his bicep as his fingers move faster and faster on you.

then, they slow right back down. your eyelids shutter open fully, looking at him watching you with a gentleness.

he eases one finger inside of you, engulfed into your warmth. a gasp falls upon you quickly followed by a moan, which sicheng muffles with his other hand. he shushes, "you can hold it in, can't you?" you nod your head against his hand covering your lips. so badly, you want to just scream out his name, but you can't.

then, he slides another finger inside. the two of them drag up and down your heated walls, coated in a slickness. you struggle to keep from sounding out noises that ultimately gets caught in your throat. you pull his hand down from your mouth, managing a breathy, "fuck, sicheng."

he continues shushing you, balanced out with a subdued, "i know, i know." the length of his fingers carries on diving deeper and deeper into you, his thumb working small loops on your clit. you can't help but grind down against his hand, meeting him halfway with every stroke. your own fingers replaces his thumb, rubbing so relentlessly that it makes you throw your head back.

you begin to feel a tightening in your core. each moan that comes out of you is strained and muffled, your sealed lips pressing together so hard that it starts to become numb. "i'm so close," you try to voice out but a broken string of whimpers fall out instead.

your knees impulsively push themselves together, trapping sicheng's hand in between your thighs. "yeah, like that, baby. just like that," he picks up the pace in which he plunges his fingers in and out of you, "keep it quiet, though, okay?"

at this point, you've lost focus on what he's saying. the only thing on your mind is how good his fingers feel inside of you, and the violent pressure that your own fingers are exerting isn't helping. your arm is starting to ache when you finally begin to feel the release in your core. the knot tied in your stomach falls apart and so do you. your hand stops and grabs onto sicheng's wrist again. each moan that's knocked out of you quickly transitions into you panting for air. all sicheng can do is caress your cheek as you slowly come down and steady yourself again against his embrace.

you lay there next to him as you're catching your breath. sicheng comforts you with words that you can't quite hear. you take his hand up to your face, fully shutting your legs together, and lick the slickness off of his fingers. he watches you with a groan as you take his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks. you pull his hand away slowly, and when your lips close together, he lets go of a deep sigh.

sicheng looks deeply into your eyes, the faintest trace of satisfaction visible on his face. "get some rest now, okay?"

a part of you doesn't want to just stop now, but the other part of you is worn out beyond repair, not just from this. your post-orgasm crash wears over you like a spell putting you to sleep, and you have no will left to fight it. so, before you know it, you drift off to sleep with sicheng's arms wrapped tightly around you and your face pressed up against his chest.

he wasn't supposed to and he wasn't planning to, but sicheng dozed off last night with you cuddled up against him. the only thought running through his head this morning: i fucked up. and that's only taking into account that he literally slept with you next to him.

the chorus of bird chirps sounds aloud from out in the garden. the bright symphonies fill the morning air.

as slowly as he can, he pulls his arm back from underneath you, a tingling feeling spreading from where your head laid upon it. hushedly, he slides his legs off of the edge of the bed, trying not to wake you. he stands up, and his movements are halted by a hum from you.

your eyes peer open, and sicheng is glancing back at you. "morning," he clears his throat, "i didn't want to wake you."

"it's alright," your voice scratches. you push yourself onto your palms and sit up, straightening your back. "um," you stutter out, looking around your bed to avoid any eye contact. there's an unspoken tension between you and sicheng that you can sense right away.

sicheng presses his thumb into the palm of his opposite hand and echoes your filler words.

you want to ask out loud, 'why is it so awkward?' but that will probably do nothing to help ease the atmosphere.

sicheng breaks the silence, "i shouldn't have... came in last night."

your eyes dart towards him, but he's looking down at your sheets. is it bad that you felt a sinking in your chest right as he said that? you didn't think you regretted what happened, but maybe you should given what sicheng's stance on it is.

"i don't..." you trail off, unable to finish the rest of your thought.

"it was my mistake. we don't... have to talk about it."

"is that what it was to you? a mistake?" words take over you before your rational thinking can catch up. if you really slowed down and thought it over, his words probably didn't warrant as much of a reaction, but in the moment, you're hurt and that's all you can focus on.

"no, i mean," sicheng struggles to find the proper words to expand on his point. as he opens his mouth again to speak, he's interrupted by someone else knocking at your door.

the knock is closely followed by a call out of your name, "miss ln!"

it distracts you from the conversation, but sicheng's comment is actively sitting on the back burner of your mind. "yes?" you return.

"your father has arranged some prior engagements for you. your chauffeur is waiting for whenever you're ready."

you can't help but let out your frustration in the form of a quiet 'ugh,' before going back and thanking the messenger, which they then dismiss themselves.

you're not in the mood for whatever errand your father has arranged for you. one, because your body is so physically tired out for some reason that even getting up out of bed will take a substantial amount of effort, and two, sicheng will follow you to whatever activity and there won't be a conclusion to this conversation you're having because there's no way you're willing to discuss this in public.

sicheng speaks up after the footsteps travel away from outside your bedroom door, "i'll leave you to get ready."

"don't-"

but sicheng completely disregards you, and leaves you alone in your room.

...

turns out that the 'errand' your father has planned for you was to pick out a few outfits from the atelier. this past week you've been so preoccupied busying yourself with activities that you haven't fully recognised that your father will officially announce you as his successor in a couple days' time. that means more responsibilities, more problems. you don't know if you're fully prepared for it, but it was never up to you; it never has been.

you posed like a mannequin for the seamstress for a good couple of hours. every blazer and every skirt being tailored to fit you perfectly. sicheng sat in the beige couch in the corner watching patiently as she took in your measurements, held up garment after garment up to you in the mirror, and finally was content with what she had created for you.

by the time you were done, you had a handful of bags in each hand, each containing a new bespoke outfit made just for you.

you're walking out of the studio with your new belongings in your hands, sicheng opening the door for you. the designer bids you an affectionate goodbye and you step out onto the concrete, heading for your ride parked in the middle of the lot.

during the whole of this visit, sicheng hasn't said a word to you. and vice versa. so when he's the first to say something, you try to look at him with an indifference in your expression.

"let me carry the bags," he offers.

"i'm alright, thank you."

you'd be lying if you said you weren't at least a little bit upset with him. although you knew there's nothing to be achieved from petty displays of stubbornness, you wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine: his nonchalance, and frankly apathetic attitude.

he doesn't challenge you, perhaps he knows better than to do exactly that. his footsteps trail behind you as you approach the car. your chauffeur pulls open the door to the backseats for you before returning to the driver's seat. sicheng simply observes as you begin to load in the bags, not wanting to tick you off even more by helping.

he catches a flare in the mirror image of the window panes all the way up on the rooftop of a nearby building. he swivels his head around, looking directly at where the spark was in the reflection. his throat tightens.

"yn, get in the car." the calmness in his voice wasn't something you weren't used to, but as you turn and find him fixated at a spot up on a roof, an alarm starts ringing in your head. "now."

you jump up onto the ledge of the footboard and hop inside with a slight panic. sicheng grabs all the remaining bags and throws it in with you. he hastily slams the back door shut and turns his focus towards that same spot again. you can barely see out of the tinted panes, but you think you hear a distant pop and sicheng's body jerks, curving his spine inwards. he clambers into the front seat, a hint of franticness in his movements. the passenger door shuts with a crash and sicheng flings his head back against the headrest.

"drive. go, now." he tells the chauffeur, clearly in a state of confusion, but he listens to sicheng. his voice is weak and breathy, like he just ran a marathon.

you push your way up to the space in between the front seats. "sicheng... what happened?" apprehension sounding out in your words.

he gives a faint shake of the head, his hand gripping tightly onto the fabric over his shoulder as he swallows a lump in his throat. you mutter a faint, 'oh my god,' under your breath as you go to pull his hand away.

sicheng breathes deeper and deeper. you uncover a small hole in his shirt, the edges splayed out with raw threads hanging off of it.

"sicheng-"

"i'm okay," he exhales. does he know how ridiculous he sounds?

a wave of distress suddenly overtakes you. "you're-"

"don't worry, i'm okay."

half of your mind has gone blank, and the other half is still stuck in 5 minutes ago before whatever happened, happened. words tumble out of you, laced with confusion and unease.

...

as soon as you arrive home, you barge in telling your housemaids to call over your doctor. sicheng has one arm wrapped around the chauffeur as he inches in with his help, his other arm limp by his side.

everything blurs past you.

sicheng is set down on the long leather couch, laying against the arm as he holds his shoulder. someone pushes past you to tend to sicheng's injuries, and all you can do is stand and stare.

...

you sit on the other end of the couch watching as the nurse is wrapping bandage around sicheng's shoulder, his torso completely bare. he grunts as she pulls tighter on the strip looping underneath his arm.

"you're lucky it didn't hit you in the ribs, or it'd be a lot worse."

sicheng mutters a soft, 'i know,' sucking in a steady breath.

the bullet sits in a tray next to the couch, completely clean, the light ricochets off of it and it gleams.

you look back over to sicheng, a deep burgundy already seeping its way underneath his skin. if it weren't for the bulletproof undershirt he was wearing, you'd be looking at admitting him into the ER. still, he's not completely devoid of any injuries.

the nurse said that aside from bruising, he had a fracture to his collarbone. "it should heal on its own anywhere in between 6 to 12 weeks."

you nod, and she gives you a brief smile before she helps fasten the sling around sicheng's neck and begins packing up her kit.

several sets of footsteps approach the doorway to the guest room that sicheng was set down in. you don't look over, eyes fixated on sicheng as he winces at any slight movement that he does affecting his injured collarbone.

the footsteps move in closer and closer to you. sicheng hears them as well and opens his eyes. "sir," he manages gravelly.

you and the nurse simultaneously look up, and there you see your father with his assistant a few steps behind him. he nods towards the nurse.

"the doctor couldn't make it on such short notice, but mr. dong's injuries are mild. i've already informed miss ln of mr. dong's condition," the nurse explains to your father.

"thank you for your help," your father tells the nurse. she picks up the kit that she brought with her and bows her head before leaving the room.

the expression on your father's face is ambiguous to say the least.

sicheng takes your father's silence as an opportunity, "i should've been more careful. i'm sorry..."

your father inhales shakily, "it was too close, yes." he looks over at you sitting on the couch, then back at sicheng, "but yn wasn't injured, and i have you to thank for that."

"it's my duty," sicheng simply responds.

your father gives him a satisfied smile. "take some time to rest, i'll have someone else look over your responsibilities for now."

with that, your father and his assistant leaves you and sicheng alone in the guest room, now allocated for his recovery.

you haven't said a word to him since the car ride back.

you sit on the edge of the couch, palms planted flat on either side of you. "does it hurt?" you look over, and sicheng leans on the sofa back, his injured arm suspended in a black mesh sling. his eyes are closed as he takes in a heavy breath after another.

he opens his eyes up to a squint, glancing over at you. "a bit," you think he's gone insane when you see a slight tug at the corner of his mouth.

you shift over towards sicheng, his unwounded shoulder being closer to you. the bandages the nurse had wrapped him up in doesn't entirely cover up his bruising. a gradient of pink, red, and purple spreads over atop his pecs. your fingers trace over his abdomen, hovering when you draw near his injury. "you scared me," you whisper.

"i know," sicheng says, "i'm sorry."

"why would you do that?"

he looks at you, a dazedness in his eyes, "do what?"

"take a bullet like that." you gulp, feeling the coarseness in your throat.

sicheng expels a weak chuckle. "to be honest, i didn't think i would." you peer at him with a tilt of your head. "i was so focused on you not getting hurt, but now that i think about it..."

he trails off.

"what?" you prompt gently.

"i don't think they were aiming at you."

your eyebrows raise themselves gingerly.

"i mean, they had every opportunity to... shoot you, but they didn't. with the time it took me to even notice them, they could've gotten the job done and vanished."

you realise what sicheng's implying. and you suppose he is right. thinking it over in your head, your reaction wasn't the fastest, given the state of shock and confusion that you were in. so, that means they were gunning for sicheng. but why?

he carries on, "and with where the bullet hit me—it was nowhere even near where you were stood." he shakes his head, "it just doesn't make sense."

"so, why?"

"i mean, i don't-"

"no. why would you ever risk yourself like this? a job like this; it surely isn't the first time you got injured."

sicheng looks at your face, so painstakingly close to his. he runs his good hand through your hair, twirling the ends of a strand in between his fingers. "it's not," he smiles weakly, but falls short of an answer to give to you.

you swallow hard. "you know, you've made it clear to me countless times that you're supposed to keep me safe... but who looks after you?"

"i can manage myself."

"i know—you're more than capable. but..." the words you're speaking has to be dragged out of you, a broken intonation. "that's not the same as looking after yourself."

he drops his gaze from yours, fingers now fidgeting and cracking his knuckles as a means of escape from this conversation.

"you don't let me kiss you, you want to forget whatever we did and dismiss it as a mistake. that's fine, but is that what you want, or is it just your guard?"

he turns his head towards yours, but still avoiding eye contact with you. for a moment, you thought he would say something, but he doesn't.

you sigh.

"just let me take care of you while your shoulder heals, okay? i'm here."

you're about to push yourself off of the couch, you lean back, but sicheng holds onto your hand. he draws you in to the spot you were at before. your faces inches apart from each other.

he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, "kiss me."

your heartbeat drums against your lungs. you slide your fingers up onto his face, pulling him in closer. and gently, you oblige.

his lips fit yours perfectly, as if you were both individually sculpted for each other. you try not to lean onto sicheng given his injury, so the most pressure you put on him is through your hands pulling him closer into you. you press your mouth against the softness of his lips, a tenderness to his movements. he breathes your scent in, and it's like it completely soothes the sharpness in his shoulder. you take him in deeper and deeper. his lips had a hint of peppermint to them, but sweeter. he let you utterly devour him against your own lips, fuelling a desire you didn't know you had in you. god, you didn't want to pull away, but your stupid, stupid lungs had to regather some air within them. and you part from him with a gentle smack.

sicheng's eyelids flutter open, like you'd just woken him from a dream. "if your father ever finds out-"

you shush him with a finger up to his mouth. and you attach your lips onto his again.

you're deep into your sleep when you hear alerts coming in nonstop on your phone. you stayed in sicheng's room with him; he's asleep on the bed and you've decided to give him more room by taking the couch. you open your eyes groggily, the sky outside doesn't make it clear to you what time it is. reaching out onto the coffee table, your phone doesn't stop buzzing in your hand.

the brightness of the screen causes you to squint. messages roll in, from dejun. without reading the notifications first, you click onto the grey bubbles. a litter of text threads open up on your phone. ones reading, "are you okay?" and "i heard what happened," and of the like.

stiffly, you go to type in a response. you tell dejun that you're fine, briefly glossing over the situation.

...

the second time you wake up this morning is when you hear sicheng talking to someone just outside of his room, the conversation muffled. he shuffles back in and you're more or less glaring at him, unintentionally.

"who was that?" you strain.

"um," he lightly massages the back of his neck. "they... found the shooter. and he talked."

that instantly catches your attention. you sit up straight, and signal to sicheng to take a seat next to you on the couch.

he slowly paces himself over, his back kept upright the entire time as he sits down next to you.

"the shooter is no one special, but," he begins, an almost sheepish look on him, "he told us who sent him. and we think that it's the same person who sent you that note, with your earring."

"who?" you jump in, impatient for him to tell you.

sicheng looks into your eyes for a split second. the sky outside is still dark. half of your face is lit by the orange ember that glows out from the fireplace.

"who?" you repeated, this time a little bit louder.

"i don't know how close you are to her. rin? full name, rina lee. her dad... owed some debts to your father."

your brows furrow. rin? you've only met her once, and that was at mrs. xiao's gala. what would prompt her to threaten you to such an extreme?

"i'm sorry, it must be-"

"no- what else do you know?"

sicheng sucks in a quick breath. "well, it's rumoured that her father, mr. lee, took a loan from your father. it was never paid back... and let's say your father didn't like that."

you didn't know what to make of your emotions—what to make of yourself. did you deserve this?

subconsciously, you start shaking your head lightly. you were in denial, but of what, you didn't know.

"i'm sorry," is all sicheng can say to provide you with some semblance of solace.

"i just..." you breathe out a heavy breath, "i can't believe it."

"i know, but it'll be over, soon. you'll take on your father's role tomorrow, isn't that something to look forward to?" sicheng tries his best to divert your focus away from the news.

you scoff. and then a sigh.

"i guess."

sicheng runs a hand over your head, smoothing over your hair, "let's go back to sleep, it's still early."

the whole of yesterday you spent getting ready, signing agreements, and attending meeting after meeting with your father. you'd spent the night before tossing and turning, unsure of if you'd be happy with this route that you're headed in.

last night, you were doing the same. tossing, turning, thinking. you never really had a choice, and it's weird how you feel apathetic towards that.

you've always lived comfortably and maybe you're just not ready for that to change yet, that's what you thought to yourself.

you woke up this morning, still a bit shaken up, mind still fuzzied from how your life has spiralled seemingly out of your control over the last week.

and now you're standing behind the drawn back curtain to the balcony, where your father's speech is being broadcasted live.

"serving as mayor to this beautiful district has been one of my greatest prides. but i'm afraid people grow old, and i am experiencing that for myself first hand."

your father's voice wavers, and it stings your cheeks a little.

"nonetheless, i know there has been rumours going around surrounding my retirement. i would like to keep this concise. today, i am officially stepping down as the mayor of district V, and appointing my daughter to serve the rest of my term." he turns towards you, hand stretching out in your direction, and you step out onto the landing.

your father steps aside to grant you some space on the podium. you take a deep breath in, before crouching down slightly to speak into the microphone.

"it is my honour to be appointed the role of mayor for a district as notable and celebrated as district V." you recite the script that your father's assistant had written for you, the syllables drilled into your brain throughout all the practices yesterday.

you remember the words that the assistant had said to you, 'this district's citizens don't care much for politics. they just want to know if they can continue living in their merry way as they did before.'

"i will see to it that this transition is as seamless as possible, and i will do my best to humbly serve each and every citizen to the best of my ability. thank you."

you back away from the podium and disappear off where it is visible on the landing. your father continues on delivering the rest of his spiel.

it's been less than a minute since you've officially accepted your new position, but you can already feel a tightening around your chest. you plop down on a chair all the way on the opposite end of the balcony, thinking it over again. is this what you want?

that's when you catch sicheng peering into the room from the hallway.

"what are you doing here? you should be resting," you jump up onto your feet.

"i didn't get to see you yesterday, so i thought i should at least congratulate you today."

you sigh, and plaster a grin onto your face, "thank you."

sicheng takes one step closer to you. "so, miss mayor, i suppose i'm no longer at your service?"

slowly, you can feel a genuine smile twinging at your lips, "you wish." you swiftly glance over at where your father is, back still facing you. you steal a quick peck from sicheng. he looks at you with his eyes wild.

"what?" you tease.

even though you're not sure the path given to you is what you want, you know that as long as sicheng is by your side, you'll manage to find joy in the little moments. the stolen kisses. and the fleeting glances.

and it's not for ever, anyway. just until this term ends.

"you are now under me," you whisper with a smirk.

humming, he raises his eyebrows with interest. "so, what's the first order of business?"

you roll your eyes. "focus on healing your shoulder up, and then we'll talk."

he leans in closer to your face, a cheeky spark in his eyes. "yes, ma'am."

thank you for reading between heaven and hell ! this fic is a part of a series which you can learn more about here ! hope you enjoyed :)

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sciencebecameouraddiction · 7 months

Text

title: Weakness is For Fools (PT 2)

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: PG

genre: Angst with a happy end

pairing: Alastor x Reader (Use of Y/N)

warnings: Alastor is not with it on this, unhinged, confused and a bit of back story sprinkled in. Rosie is also not having any of Alastor’s shit. Alastor may be OOC

summary: Alastor had never felt this before, and he swore he would never have a weakness.

← PART 2 | PART 3 →

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

The weeks that followed could only be called tense. You stayed in your room, not wanting to see or hear from another soul. Charlie had tried talking to you. Angel and Husk, checked on you and even Nifty had come asking if you wanted to help hunt bugs.

You were glad they cared but if walking outside the door to your room meant you had to see Alastor, you were going to pass. You finally decided one day, two weeks later, that you had enough. You packed what you owned and walked downstairs with your key. Quickly walking up to Charlie and ignoring the lobby that held everyone in it, including Alastor. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you.

You explained you were leaving and Charlie started to argue. You gently stopped her and hugged her, thanking her but explaining you couldn’t be here. Not with what happened. She nodded and the others heard her say if there was anything needed to call. You walked out of the hotel without even looking back. The silence that fell on the hotel was suffocating as Charlie cried. Vaggie went up to her and guided her to their room and turned back around.

“Y/N left.” Vaggie announced. “You can thank Alastor, if you’re upset about this.” And with that Vaggie left upstairs. The group turned to where Alastor was but he had left just as quickly. Over the next few days, anything he asked for help with, Alastor got nothing in return. He’d go to get a drink and it was just a bit sour. He’d ask for it remade and it would be even more horrible.

It didn’t help that no one in the hotel seemed to even be wary of him. They’d ignore him, glare and even say that they wouldn’t do what he was telling them to do. He knew of only one person who could help, so he made his way over to Cannibal Town. And if on the way there he let off some steam by terrorizing a few sinners, who could blame him truly?

He walked into Rosie’s shop, thinking he’d finally found a reprieve, and wasn’t greeted when she saw him. He thought that strange and waited, annoyance starting to roll off him. Rosie rang up the last customer, walked by him and closed her shop, and then walked past him again. At this point he was tired. Tired of no one listening, no one acknowledging him…

“Damn it, why are you ignoring me?” He said, grabbing Rosie’s arm. She froze and turned her head towards him.

“Let go of my arm, or you will loose yours Alastor.” She said her voice low. He released her arm and she continued to the check out stand, locking a few things up before turning to him.

“You have some nerve showing up here after the stunt you pulled.” She said. He had never been on the receiving end of her anger before. Only witnessed others. It was something he made a note to avoid again, if he had the chance.

“Whatever do you mean?” He asked, gauging to see how much she knew. She glared at him and he sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep up the bravado he had before. “Who told you?” He asked, leaning on his cane.

“You’re little ray of sunshine o’ course.” She said. “I’m her friend too, Alastor.” Rosie shakes her head and walks around.

“Now, you came here for what? I don’t know. But I’m not putting up with you not telling me the truth and you already started doing that.” She crossed her arms, looking at Alastor and watching him closely. She had never seen him this unhinged. The control he possessed of himself was great and everything seemed to be hanging on by a thread. This girl had him rattled.

“Can we please just sit, and have tea?” He asked, his voice tired. Rosie began to speak and he cut her off. “I will truthfully and honestly answer your questions. I swear it.” Rosie gauged his actions and then wordlessly turned and walked into the small parlor near the window. She began making tea and set it on the table with some pinky fingers. She may be mad at Alastor, but she had manners.

She sat across from him and he took a sip of the tea and relaxed a bit more. “So, what happened?”

“You know what happened.” He snapped.

“Tell me again then.” She leaned forward, her tone of voice not giving him any wiggle room out of this.

“I ensured that the Radio Demon has no weakness to exploit.” The response fell easy from his lips. Rosie raised her eyebrow.

“What was the weakness, Mr. Radio Demon?” Alastor looked off, a shadow crossing his face as he gritted his teeth. “What was it Alastor?” Rosie asked softer, seeing something in his eyes that provoked her to ask again.

“It was her.” He whispered, not able to look at Rosie. He could feel Rosie’s eyes on him as he sat there. The quiet fell over the shop for a while, as Rosie waited for Alastor.

“I-“ Alastor stopped and cleared his throat. Rosie had half a mind to make a joke that she had never seen him this nervous, but knew the silence was what he needed. “I can’t-“ He stopped himself again, looking angry.

“You can’t what, Alastor?” Rosie asked. The silence spanned as Alastor started muttering to himself about being the one who was the victor. Killing past versions of himself to get to here. Rosie held in her sigh because for someone so perceptive of other people, that talent was lost on himself.

“I can’t do this again.” He murmured finally. Rosie looked at him, scrutinizing his movements. She peeked at her watch and sighed. It took an hour to get here. Her night was sure to be claimed by this as well.

“That doesn’t give much to work on.” Rosie quipped.

“I’m the one five steps ahead. I’m the one who moves the pawns. I’m in control.” Alastor exclaimed, slamming his hands on the table. Rosie looked at him unimpressed.

“The only thing I see is a man who feels so out of control, you’ve placated yourself by saying you are in control. Just because you say it’s true, doesn’t mean it is.” Rosie looked at Alastor as his right eye twitched.

“No. No. You sound just like her. I’ve been in control. I will kill anything that gets between me and what I want. I cannot be weak. I will not be weak.” Alastor says standing up and pacing as the shadows in the room started darkening.

“And you think you having feelings for her is you loosing control?” Rosie asked, watching him, tired of the ignoring the elephant in the room.

“Feelings?” Alastor looked shocked, then shook his head minutely, like he was clearing it. “It’s weakness.” Alastor whipped around to Rosie, his eyes radio dials, as he was hunched over on himself. If anyone else saw him, they would have ran. Rosie stayed seated and took a sip of her cold tea, grimacing.

“You’re an idiot.” She said, setting down her cup. “Do you think Lucifer feels like Charlie is a weakness?”

“He’s the King of Hell, everyone knows Charlie is that man’s weakness. He’s just powerful enough to keep those who wish her harm at bay.” Alastor responds, his tone condescending as if he can’t believe Rosie hadn’t thought of this. Rosie pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs, realizing that the root of all this was Alastor not feeling good enough and him stumbling upon feelings he never felt before. She felt for him, she did, and probably would have been more sympathetic and understanding, had he not blown up on everyone.

“Did you ever think that Lucifer gains strength by what you are calling his weakness?” Rosie asked. “And also, just because you look at Charlie like a child, doesn’t mean she is. She could easily take both of us in a fight and end us both.”

“How is a weakness, strength?” The question was asked before Alastor even had time to think about it.

“Finally some honesty.” Rosie leans back in her chair. “You saw what he was willing and able to do in the fight against the exorcists?” Rosie watched Alastor sneer and then tilt his head agreeing. “You see what happened to you?” Alastor’s growl rumbled as his eyes were back to radio dials.

“You could have easily taken Adam. You’re more experienced, have more technical skills and are generally a good fighter. You were cocky and you didn’t have anyone to fight for. You fought for yourself. Lucifer fought for someone. How you said you would kill anyone who got between what you wanted, for Lucifer that’s seeing his daughter happy and safe. Lucifer was willing to kill to ensure that. That is why you lost.” Rosie got up and walked toward Alastor. “That is why you’ll continue to loose, in everything. It’s why you ended up in the deal you’re in now. And why you have now lost the only person you have ever loved.”

Alastor looked at Rosie, his eyes wide as he realized, and then looked away, the weight of her gaze heavy. “Do you understand me?” Rosie asked. Alastor blinked and then slowly nodded.

“Now, how are you going to fix it?” Rosie asked, preparing some flowers.

“Fix what?” Alastor asked, confused.

“Fix what you’ve done, to the patrons of the hotel, to Charlie and to my friend.” Rosie said, spelling it out. “If there even is a way to fix it…” She trailed off.

Alastor looks at Rosie like she’s deranged. Then he laughs. “Oh ho. You always knew a good joke Rosie!” He says.

“I’m not jokin’.” Rosie deadpans and Alastor looks incredulously at her.

“I don’t apologize.” Alastor said.

“That was the old you. You know how you were muttering about how you buried the old you and now there’s this you and he’s a reigning victor? Yeah, do that again with this version. Your new victor will know how to apologize and maybe will have some manners. Can ya do that?” Rosie asks, looking at Alastor. The sigh that Alastor heaves feels monumental, as he acquiesces. Rosie nods and pulls him behind the counter and start to help him with an apology.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

← PART 2 | PART 3 →

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor altruist #alastor angst #alastor/reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #alastor x reader #alastor

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lavendertom · 11 months

Text

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 5

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6

wc: 3.6k

warnings: angst, little bit sad (if y’all can stick thru this ONE part 🫶), fluff sprinkled in some parts (as always, lmk if there’s anything i’ve missed)

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. AU where nothing bad ever happens at the pizzeria.

A/N: this is gonna be the “hard” chapter, but it’ll all be worth it for part 6, the official finale of the series 🥹 no worries tho, i still plan on expanding the story once it’s over!!!

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You could barely focus in any of your classes today. Your mind was full of thoughts about one person and one person only: Mike. All of the things that happened in such a short amount of time were eating you alive. You couldn’t take any of it anymore. In a way, you wished Abby hadn’t told you about her secret. You didn’t want something as silly as a “crush” to get in the way of your goal of keeping Abby and Mike happy.

As you drove home from your classes, you didn’t know what to expect that evening. You knew he probably wanted to clear up whatever had happened the other evening. Maybe he just wanted to tell you he was sorry for not paying you again. But then why did he want you there an hour early? What on earth could he want to talk about for a whole hour with you?

You only ever had two serious conversations with him in the two months or so of knowing him, the one the first night shift of babysitting Abby and during your walk with him just a few days ago.

There was that voice, all the way at the back of your head, that was telling you something completely different. There was a voice that was saying this had to do with Abby’s secret. You attempted to quickly get it out of your head, your hands getting sweaty at the thought as you continued driving home. You hated to admit this was making you more nervous than it should’ve been.

The thought of him waiting at his door until you got home crept into your head once more. The way he saw how you looked back one last time like you’d done every time before. How often did he wait at the door like that? Did he genuinely care about you that much to wait?

When you got home you had an hour until you knew you’d have to be at Mike’s house. Of course today was one of those days where your professors just knew you were having an off day and assigned what felt like 10x more work than usual. You hesitantly took out all of your textbooks and notebooks in an attempt to knock out a few assignments before you left.

As you sat down, something hanging on the headboard of your bed caught your attention. The black hoodie Mike had lent you was there. You truly intended on giving it back to him yesterday since you’d accidentally wore it home the other night. Whether you forgot it by chance or on purpose you couldn’t even remember anymore.

It sat there like a painful reminder of not knowing what was to come later. He said it wasn’t anything bad, but maybe he just didn’t want to stress you out. What if he had to quit the night job, therefore leaving you jobless? You didn’t want to leave them hanging. You didn’t care if you were getting paid consistently or not. You just wanted to be there for them. That was all that mattered to you now.

You continued to sit there, looking at the hoodie, thoughts racing through your mind with no signs of stopping. The textbooks and notebooks all over your desk were never opened, you didn’t have the energy now at least. Not when your leg wouldn’t stop bouncing and stomach was twisted into knots. You kept telling yourself “It’s just your imagination, everything is fine. Everything will be okay.” It was already almost time for you to go, so you threw all the books back into your bag, grabbed the hoodie, and made your way over.

The feelings were mutual back at Mike’s house. Mike wasn’t sure why he felt so anxious about having to talk to you. It really wasn’t a big deal at all. He just wanted to clear up last night and, well, some other things too. He was just as scared of the unknown as you were. The kitchen smelled like pasta cooking as he tried his best to distract himself by making Abby’s dinner. Just incase the conversation went really bad and you didn’t want to stay. Not that he was anticipating that it would go badly.

He stirred the spaghetti as the water bubbled, focusing as best he could on everything but his thoughts.

“Mike why are you making dinner tonight?” Abby interrupted standing by the fridge.

“Thought I’d give Y/n a break for one night.” he said, still looking down at the pot of boiling water.

“She makes it so much better than you do though.” Abby started whining.

“Beggars can’t be choosers Abs.” he said with a sigh.

“What does that mean?” Abby said with a confused tone to her voice.

“Life’s not fair, that’s what it means. You either eat my pasta or nothing.”

He could practically hear the girl roll her eyes in response.

“Well, I’m not hungry right now.”

Now she’s just being a smart ass, Mike thought to himself.

“Good thing Y/n can warm it up for you later when I’m gone.”

“I don’t want to eat it later though. It’s gonna be gross later.” she crossed her arms now, she knew what she was doing.

“Well you’re either gonna eat it now, later, or never. This is what you’re getting for dinner.” Mike was getting more impatient with her sudden attitude.

“Your pasta is gross Mike I’m not eating it.”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore, don’t eat it.” Way to ruin this evening Abby.

“Why do you have to be so-“

“Abby, just stop! I’m not having this today. Go to your room.” he didn’t realize how much he rose his voice at her. Arguing wasn’t uncommon for them, but he rarely, if ever, rose his voice this much at her. He looked back at her, the young girls eyes were welling with small tears. This evening already wasn’t going as planned and Y/n hadn’t even arrived yet.

“I hate you Mike!” Abby shouted before running to her room, slamming the door shut.

Mike took a deep breath, putting a hand over his face. Why did he always have to mess everything up? He should’ve never asked Y/n to come over early. If he hadn’t asked, then this situation would’ve never happened. He should’ve just let the situation go. He looked back at the pot of spaghetti, the water still bubbling, finally deciding to shut off the stove.

He looked at the landline phone hanging on the wall beside the fridge. It was almost calling his name to pick it up, dial your number, and tell you not to come by anymore. He stepped forward reaching out a hand to pick up the phone. Just before he could start dialing the numbers he heard a door slowly and quietly open.

He looked at the clock on the stove, quickly realizing what time it was. There was no escaping the situation now, for either of you. He walked out of the kitchen, now in the dining room as he watched you shut the door and set down your backpack.

“Hey.” you said in almost a whisper, your usual smile on your face to hide the nervousness that still lurked deep down.

Just like that, time felt slower than ever before for Mike. Honestly, every time he saw you it began feeling more and more like that. It wasn’t like you tried to dress to impress or anything like that. The only times you had a remotely “nice” outfit on were the first few days of babysitting and extremely occasionally after that. Even then, it was nothing more than a pair of jeans and a somewhat nicer t-shirt or sweater.

Your hair was in a low messy ponytail, loose strands of hair falling out of the scrunchie. You wore a t-shirt with your college’s name plastered across the front and extremely baggy black sweatpants. This was a look that was all too familiar to Mike. The days you wore outfits like this were days that school was beating your ass. Those were the days he’d come home and find you still finishing up work at the dinning room table far too late in the night.

The way that an outfit so simple and, for lack of better terms, lazy, could make Mike feel this way felt like a crime to him. He was convinced that any other outfit imaginable would not compare to this. There was no way to explain this, but this just felt different to him.

Maybe it was because of your determination and drive for success. It was something he didn’t see in himself. Maybe he envied that you had that in you and he didn’t. He saw how hard school was. He saw that no matter how hard it got, you were still there on time every time. He wished so much he had that level dedication in him.

That’s when his eyes turned to your hand. It was holding the black hoodie he let you borrow when you stayed for s’mores. He had honestly forgotten he even gave you it, but now he was wondering why you’d brought it back. He really didn’t mind if you’d kept it. Now thinking about it, he wanted you to keep it.

“You didn’t have to make dinner Mike, you know I’ve got it.” your voice, still quiet making sure Abby wouldn’t hear your presence, broke the thoughts in Mikes head and brought him back to reality.

“Yeah, um, about that…” he began, sighing heavily.

“We need to talk.” you immediately noticed the tension that was now forming.

“Yeah.” he pulled a chair out of the dining table for you, and you both quietly sat down.

You both sat in silence for a minute or so. You waited for him to start talking and you were going to give him as long as he needed to gather his thoughts. You focused on the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table.

“I’m sorry.” he finally spoke up.

“Why are you sor-“

“Let me explain before you try telling me I have nothing to be sorry about.” he interrupted, his volume significantly louder than before.

You didn’t say anything back, you were ready to let him say whatever he needed to say because clearly he needed it.

“It’s just-“ he paused again, putting his face into his hands. He took a deep breath attempting to gather his thoughts and emotions before he spoke again. He wasn’t going to let them ruin this conversation.

“I don’t deserve you, Y/n.” you finally looked up. Those incredible brown eyes met yours. They almost appeared to have tears forming in them.

“You do so much for us Y/n. You’re here on time every day, no matter how much you had going on during the day. You’re always willing to do literally anything with Abby. All of the dumb things I’ve said no to her about, you’ve said yes. You’re the mother figure she never had. She doesn’t act the same way around me as she does with you. She deserves this so much more than I do. She needs you, Y/n. I don’t deserve any of this. I can rarely pay you on time. I’m putting you in this horrendous situation where you go to class every day, then you come home for 2 hours max and babysit for the entire night. You’re working literally 2 jobs and you didn’t even want this. I accidentally threw you into it, you should’ve just not taken it. It’s not fair. And yesterday when I stormed out without explaining anything, that wasn’t fair either.”

“Mike-“

“You deserve more Y/n. You deserve the world. You have so much motivation and determination in you it’s actually insane. You’re always smiling, always trying to be kind and helpful. You put others before yourself. I just feel that someone like me, the complete opposite of you, doesn’t deserve to have you in my life. I have not even an ounce of dedication or care inside of me. You don’t deserve to have to put up with all my crap. You just don’t Y/n.” he stopped, still looking you in the eyes.

You really wanted to break down and sob. How could he think he’s worth nothing? How does he not see all the effort and care he puts into taking care of Abby? He’s trying a whole lot harder than other people who have half the worries in life that he has.

“How long have you felt this way?” you said quietly, you knew if you spoke any louder than a whisper you’d start crying.

“Since the moment you first came by to try out the job.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” small, but noticeable tears were now falling down your face. “You’ve felt this way for almost 2 months and you didn’t say a word?”

“Y/n, please don’t-“

“What do you mean ‘please don’t?’ How am I supposed to brush past this knowing you’ve felt like this for 2 months now?” You wiped the tears off of your face.

Mike was now looking down at the table, avoiding your face at all costs. He knew if he saw you that way, it would be over for him. It was never his intention to make you feel this way, he knew you would care, but he didn’t think you’d care this much.

“Mike, look at me right now.”

His eyes hesitantly met yours. Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your head.

“You are the most thoughtful, caring, most determined person I’ve ever met. You sacrifice so so much for Abby and you don’t even realize it. When I talk to Abby, I hear all about a big brother who pours his heart out just for her to be happy. She is so incredibly lucky to have someone who dedicates so much of his time and energy just to make her happy. You didn’t ask for this and I know you’ve been through hell and back, but you do everything for that girl. No matter how much you think she doesn’t see it, you are genuinely her whole world. I have never, ever, met someone so caring in my life. You don’t have to do any of it, yet you are so selfless that you do it.”

“Then why does she hate me? Why does she always say so much about how great you are and how much she loves your cooking more than mine? Why are we always arguing over the stupidest things?”

“That’s what siblings are for Mike.” you said with an airy laugh through your tears. “After I came over to hearing your argument I went to talk to Abby. She said how she thought you hated her, how you’re always working and never do stuff with her anymore. I told her to look at all of the amazing things you do for her, all of the toys and art supplies she is lucky enough to have. I asked her who gets her all of these things. Who works their ass off for her to have the greatest childhood ever? You do, Mike. She just doesn’t know how to put that into words or actions. We’re gonna work on that though, okay?” you reached across the table to grab his hands and held them in yours.

“You need to give yourself a whole lot more credit. All I want is for you guys to be okay.” you smiled, tears still running down your face. “I just want to help you guys in any way I can. I don’t care how much I get paid or how often I get paid, that doesn’t matter to me anymore Mike. I just want to be there for the two of you.”

After all he said, after his vulnerability showed the underlying jealousy he had for you and your kindness you did it once again. You put others before yourself. He didn’t realize you were not going to give up.

“This is exactly why I don’t deserve you.”

“Quit saying that, you deserve me just as much as Abby does.” you squeezed his hands, reassuringly smiling at him. “You’re not getting rid of me.”

All he really wanted to do in this moment was to get up and kiss you. You believed in Abby, and in him, when you didn’t have to. No one was forcing you to do any of this and to know you were taking it upon yourself from the kindness in your heart made Mike feel even crazier for you. You were one of the first people to show genuine care and love to him and Abby since their parents passed away.

“I love you Y/n.”

Those 4 words came out with no thought, no hesitation, no control. It just felt right.

You were both shocked, yet relieved to hear those words. Your next 4 words didn’t have much thought to them either

“I love you too Mike.” you said, not hesitating either. It didn’t feel forced in the slightest, it felt right for both of you. You honestly couldn’t believe what had just happened and neither could Mike. Neither of you would admit it, but you weren’t even sure what to do next.

“Well it took you guys long enough.” a small voice peeped from behind you.

You turned around to see Abby, standing with her arms crossed, a smug look on her face.

“Abby, how long have you been here?” Mike said, quickly letting go of your hand he still had in his.

“Long enough to hear you and Y/n say you love each other.” she said, smiling wide and giggling. “I am so happy you finally told Y/n you have a crush on her! Or did Y/n tell you she has a crush on you?” her eyes lit up with excitement.

“Well, I wouldn’t necessarily say that’s what happened but-“

“Oh, he definitely was the one who told me first.” you smirked after interrupting.

“But who decided to hold hands first?” he quickly responded, returning you a small smirk.

Your face began burning up as you buried your face in your hands for a moment, but you also couldn’t help but laugh. Leave it up to Abby to be little miss matchmaker. Of course she’d sneak her way in to finally see her hard work come together. Once Mike realized there was no point in hiding anything anymore, he grabbed your left hand again and held it in his. It felt almost freeing, like a weight was lifted off of him in multiple ways, to be able to hold your hand.

“Also, I’m hungry.” she chimed in quickly, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

You and Mike both looked at each other, knowing that the pasta he attempted to cook was probably off the table now. It was also almost time for Mike to go to work now, which he really didn’t want to do anymore, but there was no other choice.

“I’ll just order you guys a pizza.” he said with a smile, a genuine smile. “Y/n doesn’t need to be cooking for you after this, and I know you won’t eat whatever I can make in 10 minutes Abs.”

Abby began jumping around with pure excitement. Probably a little too excited after just offending Mike’s cooking, but that didn’t matter anymore. As long as she was happy and you were happy, Mike was gonna be happy. He was going to start changing his attitude about everything and he wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else than you. It wasn’t going to be easy, but was gonna try his very best.

“You sure Mike? I don’t mind cooking.” you replied.

“Really Y/n?” he said, sarcastically rolling his eyes.

“Okayyy fineee.” you said holding out the endings extra long, just for dramatic effect.

“Thank you Mike!” the Abby shouted, running up to his chair to give him a hug. Mike smiled at you as the young girl clung onto him.

“Thank you.” he mouthed to you.

You gave him a soft smile in response. You looked down at the black hoodie still in your lap. You brought it in the case he wanted it back, but after the conversation you two just had, there’s a good chance he’d want you to have it. Whether that was his original intention for you to keep it or not, you decided you would keep it. A constant reminder of who you were doing this for. Taking this job, you didn’t know what you were getting yourself in to. You also didn’t know why you were so nervous for this conversation. It couldn’t have gone any better. You were ready to go through whatever hardships and challenges you had to for your two favorite neighbors.

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A/N: get ready for part 6 hopefully before thanksgiving 🥳🫶 also trust i see all of ur comments and i wish i could reply to ALLL of them, but i don’t wanna flood the comments! sending each and every one of u and virtual hug rn and love! 🫂 if anyone wants a little preview of what’s to come, check out of my first work my favorite prize, those r the vibes i am going for in part 6 🤗

jules jewels (tag list! lmk if u want to be added or removed 🤗)

@balesita @universi8 @browneyedgirly93 @marsmallow433 @prongsprincessworld @ajlareads @k3nnlolz @louweasleymalfoy @chompwoman @wasabidottie @queenie-official @emmaishere432 @curasimp @nevvdrinksteaa @rcailleachcola @scribblesandsherlock @iheartyouyou @prosteticsynthesis @novausstuff @dessxoxsworld @1-akira-2 @starringo @planetevermore @cherriebat @mxrvelouss

#fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy’s movie #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf fic #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt has my heart #reader and mike schmidt should kiss already 🫣

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