#also kinda wish someone was here to hold the brush

[unfriedough]

Hey sorry if your request aren’t open but I had a thought about Zuko x water tribe/bender reader!Like three years after the war he wants to propose to reader and So he ask Katara and Sokka about marriage traditions within the tribe and he carves a betrothal necklace for her?? And the readers reaction!! Thank you

An: HEY. Sorry this took like, so long I think you requested last summer, however I’ve kinda lost most of my determination to write and this account became more of a chore than what I had initially wanted. Either way, maybe somehow I’ll be able to be more consistent soon but I also don’t wanna make myself hate writing so :(

Thank you for requesting, I really do appreciate it, hope you enjoy :)

Zuko’s nose twitched as the cold nipped away at his extremities, huddled up in a few too many jackets. There’s a striking difference between cold and cold and right now he wished he was on fire.

Your gloved hand was intertwined with his as you lead him off of the fire nation ship and onto the white snow of the southern water tribe. This trip was planned as a way to visit Sokka and Katara, but Zuko had another plan in mind.

Finally, after three years of struggling to settle down, the fire people finally relaxed and he was able to make more time. In that time, he realized he’d wanted to marry you more than anything. So here he was, in a nation far too cold for someone like him, with a goal in mind.

He had exactly 5 days (and a half if you’re counting from now) to get ready a betrothal necklace. Why a necklace? Well, Zuko had watched you for days on end in the castle library, a book bigger than your head on the table being analysed by your eyes. You’d smile brightly when you locked eyes, and call him over. He’d sit next to you, shoulder to shoulder, attempting to read with you. The books were always about old water tribe traditions, tales, legends, history, everything of the sort. You’d wanted to stay connected to your culture and upbringing - it made you who you were today.

And so that brings you to today, here, the water tribe.

“Katara!” You squealed, running forward and pulling her into a hug. You two squeezed each other tightly, excited noises being expressed.

Zuko and Sokka nodded to each other, trying to be kinda nonchalant but Sokka couldn’t hold it much longer, he sprinted at Zuko and tackled him to the ground into an oh-so-warm hug. You laughed at the site, Katara too. Zuko felt a twinge of pink on his cheek, from the cold or embarrassment he couldn’t really tell, but he still wrapped his shaking arm around his buddy. After a few more ‘I missed you!’s and giggles, Zuko and Sokka got back up. Katara grabbed your hand and pulled you deeper into the village, you laughed the entire way, giddy from being back home here with your family. You threw a glance backwards at the fire lord, there was something very slightly off about the way he was smiling, you brushed it off as just the cold getting to him.

It was most definitely the cold getting to him.

Sokka led him to the ice on the outskirts of the village and brought some chairs along. They were gonna go fishing while they talked. As they both sat, another shiver ran up the poor fire bender’s back.

“How do you guys survive the cold?” He groaned.

Sokka chuckled, handing him a rod, pushing the bucket of bait closer to him, “You get used to it… I could ask you the same thing about the heat,”

“I’m a fire bender it’s in my blood,”

“Yeah well you learn a thing or two when your lovely sister starts learning how to bend and suddenly you’re always wet,” he cast the line, leaning back, putting one leg over the other.

“I guess,” he laughed.

They sat in a suffocating silence for a minute, Zuko just awkwardly holding the pole and Sokka staring into the sky.

“Are we going to address the camelephant in the room?”

Zuko looked to him from his peripheral, “I’m kinda nervous I guess, I don’t know what to do,”

Sokka sat up a little straighter, getting up to help Zuko with his fishing issues. He stood behind him and helped his arm into the correct place, slowly to be sure he understood.

“Just like fishing, you have to be precise and confident to get what you want, and if you cast your line just right, you’ll catch the fish,” he winked once the bob hit the water, stepping back to admire his own work.

“Not sure that’s the best metaphor,”

“Say you love it, he's been working on it ever since you wrote to him,” Katara rolled her eyes, holding your hand as you both struggled to not slip on the ice.

“KATARA.”

Zuko couldn't help but laugh, then he was met with the puzzled look on your face.

“I thought this was a surprise trip, when’d you write to them,” you tilted your head, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“…needed to make sure they were free,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“That totally checks out,” you rolled your eyes, getting a serious case of FOMO.

Sokka coughed to try to clear the awkwardness, “So fishing…”

“What’re you trying to catch anyways?”

“Does it matter, it’s about the process YN get with the times,”

“Since when did you fish for fun?”

“Since now.”

“I thought you hated fishing,” you were all standing up by this point, including Sokka and Zuko.

“Only because Miss Katara always splashed me,”

“And I won’t hesitate to do it again!” She bent a small stream into his face, giggling when he stumbled back.

“Oh it’s on Katara,” he paused, “As soon as I get snow,” he waddled away to get to the snow on shore.

You laughed when the waterbender used more ice to cause him to slip.

“I’ll go help him up,” you laughed, moving towards him as he laid helplessly on the ice, not even bothering to get up anymore.

Zuko watched your figure, missing the way Katara turned to look at him.

“I think you should do it here,”

“What?”

“The proposal,”

“That’s not enough time, it’s barely enough for me to learn how to carve the necklace,”

“Lucky for you, Sokka’s pretty efficient with plans, he’s been plotting since you told him,”

The fire bender smiled, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jacket. “Okay, maybe, but how can I get started when she’s with us all the time?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her,” she smirked.

-

“Are you sure this is safe?” You shivered, standing in your bathing suit on top of a huge rock, below it freezing water.

“No!” Katara, “But let’s do it anyways,”

“I don’t know, what if I freeze?”

“Good thing we have a fire bender with us,” she pointed to Zuko, who was in the distance learning about what tools to carve and what stones to use, he’d settled on one that reminded him of your eyes, and the band matching the deep royal blue usually used. He wanted to alter the pattern as a way of commemorating both elements. Currently, he and Sokka were doodling designs on the snow with sticks.

“Look at those dorks, I wonder what they’re doing,”

“You know Sokka, they’re probably drawing,” she laughed nervously.

“Hmm, that kind of looks like a-“ you were cut off as she pushed you off of the rock. You shrieked as you first dropped, then as you got more air time you changed into a more streamlined position with your head downwards. Instant regret when you hit the water though.

You resurfaced, drenched and in pain from the cold. Your fingers felt like they were gonna fall off any second now. Before you got to dwell on it, Katara joined you, also screaming in fun-agony.

“WHY’D YOU PUSH ME?” You splashed her.

“You were talking for too long…” she giggled, going under and pulling you down.

You inhaled a large amount of air before going under, making sure to keep her under with you as well. After a few seconds of freezing cold, you resurfaced, feeling pain in all your joints from the water.

“Why did I ever think this was a good idea?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” she shrugged, waterbending herself back up to the ledge so she could jump again, “But it sure is fun,”

Sokka and Zuko heard a splash in the distance.

“I think Katara is torturing your wife,”

“What?” he mumbled, looking at where you were very clearly lecturing her about something, “What’re they doing?”

“Ice bath, Katara tricked me into doing it once… I never fully recovered,”

Zuko chuckled, using his stick to doodle another design. Which he then stared at for a while.

“This is it.”

“Oh?” Sokka glanced at it, “It’s perfect.”

The men stared at each other proudly, as if they’ve just completed a super hard mission.

Immediately, Sokka took him inside a tent, quickly teaching him methods of carving with different tools. A few more splashes could be heard and you and Katara had fun.

“I wonder what he’s doing to Zuko,”

“Boy stuff,”

You furrowed your brows, “what does that even mean?”

After a lot of time (and a few cuts) Zuko finally had a necklace ready. Sure, it needed to be refined, but his hands were tired and shaky. Sokka patted him on the back, watching the fire bender weave the blue band into the loops.

What they failed to notice was you approaching, now covered in a warm coat.

“What’re y'all up to?” You breathed out, still cold but beginning to gain your senses.

Zuko panicked, hiding it under his leg. You looked at him weird.

By this time, Katara had joined the group, and behind her the sun fell into a pink and purple type hue. Zuko didn’t miss the way your breaths were so laboured, and he took it upon himself to lead you back to where Sokka said you two were staying. You changed into some clothes while he surveyed the room, moving around nervously.

“You’ve been acting weird all day,” you pulled a sweater over the thermal shirt, reaching over to grab an undercoat.

He walked up to you, fingers working shakily to button up the buttons. “Just cold,”

“No, the cold doesn’t make you avoid me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,”

“Really? It feels like Katara and Sokka are trying to keep us apart.” He grabbed another, heavier coat and draped it over your shoulder, you inserted your arms in the holes.

“I didn’t notice,”

“You’re lying,” you stepped back, putting your boots back on and tucking your pants into them.

He frowned, reaching out to you, but you stepped back.

“It’s weird, the letter thing as well- why didn’t you tell me you sent it to them? I thought it was last minute?”

“It was!”

“You’re lying again,” you frowned, folding your arms.

“I promise it’ll all make sense soon,”

“How soon? What’re you hiding?”

“I-“

“Actually. Don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know.” You huffed, storming out of the room, leaving a different kind of cold lingering.

Zuko sat down on the large bed, dropping his head into his hands. He sighed deeply, reaching over multiple layers of clothing to his pocket to pull out the carved stone. Truly, it was mediocre at best. And after this misunderstanding, the sinking feeling of impending rejection poisoned his thoughts. He couldn’t help but trace his finger over the patterns, wondering what could’ve been- he was half sure he was single now.

“I forgot-“ you gasped as you walked back in the room, catching a glimpse of the rock in his hand.

“Yn!” He quickly shoved it behind him.

“Zuko… what was that?”

“What was what?” He said, looking so suspicious it was stupid.

You took a few steps closer, inching towards him slowly, “In your hand,”

“My hand’s empty…”

“Liar…” you dragged on, standing right infront of him now.

“Zuko,”

“Yn,”

You tried pulling at his arms, but he wasn’t budging.

“Cut it out! What’s behind you?”

“Nothing!”

You sighed, walking away in defeat, just as he let his guard down, you pounced, having to grab it and rolling onto the bed. He barely had time to process it when your face immediately changed.

You sat up, moving on your knees towards him on the bed, patting his bicep, “Zuko light,”

The fire lord frowned, embarrassed that he was about to get rejected, although that’s no foreign feeling. A small, dancing red flame illuminated the carved necklace.

“It’s…” you covered your mouth with one hand, tears welling in your eyes.

“Tacky- I know, I just thought- you don’t have to do a-“

“Beautiful…” he glanced sideways at you, “Zuko…”

“This isn’t at all how I wanted this to go…” he sighed, dropping his head.

“No… probably not,” you sniffled, “but it was perfect,” you laughed, he chuckled as well.

He got up, lighting an oil lamp for better lighting. Zuko circled the bed and stood next to you, still nervous and fidgety.

“Yn,” he breathed out, shakily.

You nodded, glossy eyes meeting his.

“The years you’ve spent by my side, against me, with me- those have been the best years of my life. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m truly myself. I’ve never,” he swallowed harshly, “I’ve never felt more at home,” he paused again, looking up at the ceiling, “then when I’m with you.”

You let out a small noise of excitement, bouncing your legs.

“I’ve made so- so many mistakes in my life, every single day of it, but I think… I think letting you go would be my biggest mistake, Yn-“

“YES!!” You pounced on him, hugging him so tight as your heartbeats both skyrocketed.

You giggled as he looped the necklace around your neck, it was simple, and dainty, but most of all it was so Zuko. The more someone could stare at the imperfections in the craftsmanship, the more they’d love it. A man carved it with love and intention.

You held each other for a while, just swaying in the dimly lit room. You leaned back, cupping his face in your hands.

“Is this why we're here? You wanted to carve the necklace?”

“Yeah, pretty much, you ruined my plans though,”

“I did, didn't I?” You giggled.

“I had a lot planned for us, with the help of Sokka of course,”

“Ohh now that makes sense,”

“What makes sense,”

“Literally everything, you were being so weird,”

“I’m not great at keeping secrets,”

“Good, never keep one again,” you kissed his cheek.

“I suppose we should tell Katara and Sokka,”

“Yeah, I suppose we should.”

And so, hand in hand, you walked out to the bonfire, where the siblings sat.

Sokka was so mad his plan foiled.

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Linger

Sirius Black x rockstar! f!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, rough sex, like pretty rough guys he bites you till you bleed, underage drinking, underage smoking, a lot of smoking tbh, drunkish sex, kinda has a plot so yeah lmk if i missed anything

summary: you and your band mates decide to go out to a pub, where you end up meeting the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: guys i’m so bad at these summaries holy. this is probably my favorite fic i’ve written. the flirting and the tension like omg. trust me. also, let’s pretend The Runaways are british and let’s pretend everything id accurate hahaha. enjoy ;)

~~~

“Do you think we’ll be recognized tonight?”

You turn to your bandmate, Joan, and shrug. “It’s fifty-fifty.”

“What pub are we going to again?” She asks.

“The one where they let underage people in, of course, you’re still the only one who’s twenty-one in the band you know,” you reply.

The other two members of your band, Sandy and Lita, are ahead of you, engulfed in their own conversation. You slide your hands into the pockets of your jacket and try to keep up. You’ve been in the band for a few months as the new lead singer. Their old one left to start her own band, claiming it to be more successful. Yet your band is the one that’s gotten sold-out shows, interviews on television, and pictures in magazines. Sometimes you like to think it was fate that she left, and you just so happened to be in town the night they were holding auditions. The fans surely enjoy your voice more, they make you out to be the leader even though you’re only seventeen and the newest member. You don’t mind though, and neither do your bandmates.

It’s almost ten when you arrive at the pub and thankfully no one has recognized you yet, or they have and simply haven’t said anything. There’s no one at the door to check IDs just like Sandy had said. The four of you enter fast and find a table. The music is loud, the lights are low, and people are dancing all over. You like it, a lot.

“Drinks?” Lita questions a few seconds after you sit.

“You know it!” Joan replies.

“I’ll be right back then.”

Sandy takes out a pack of cigarettes. “Care for one?”

“Obviously,” you answer, holding your hand out. She hands you one, you’re quick to light it and stick it between your lips, inhaling a deep breath of smoke. “How come the police haven’t found this place?”

Joan rolls her eyes. “They have.”

“And? Why don’t they shut it down?”

“They have people who come here, of course, sons, daughters, you know that sort of thing. It may be illegal but it’s trustworthy,” she explains. “Why do you care anyway?”

You shrug. “Just curious I suppose.”

Lita arrives back at the table, four glasses held in her arms. You take yours fast, eager to taste whatever liquor she got for you. It’s bitter, with a hint of sweetness in it. Based on the color as well, your guess is some sort of vodka mix. You drink it despite the awful aftertaste it leaves in your mouth. The cigarette between your fingers helps a bit. The four of you talk for a while and enjoy the peace of having no fans around.

“You should go to the bar y/n,” Lita says after some time. “Or well it might be too late now, but when I was there, I saw a boy your age, remarkably handsome.”

Sandy laughs. “You’re trying to send her home with someone already?”

Lita nudges the other girl with her shoulder. “No, I’m only trying to get some new song material.”

“We’ll see if there’s any potential,” you say, taking the last sip of your drink and getting up. You brush down your hair. “Do I look alright?”

“You’re always beautiful,” Joan answers, letting out a cloud of smoke.

“Wish me luck.” You chuckle before heading to the bar.

With every step you take, you feel eyes on you. Most belong to older men who shouldn’t even be paying you any mind. You’re used to the feeling of being watched, with all the fans and paparazzi that corner you before and after gigs. So, you move through the pub without a second thought about it.

In the back of your head, you curse yourself for not asking Lita what the guy looks like. For a moment you question how you’re supposed to find him, but then your curious eyes find one guy who stands out. He’s leaning on the wall, a glass in his hand and a cigarette between his lips. Based on his face, you figure he can’t be more than nineteen. And oh, how right Lita was. His hair is dark and long, almost reaching his shoulders. He’s dressed in a simple white tee shirt and baggy jeans. Despite the distance, you swear you can make out a sliver of a tattoo on his shoulder. He’s gorgeous, almost too gorgeous.

You approach him carefully, thinking of different opening lines in your head. Would it be wrong to use your fame to get him to take you home? Probably. But you’ve seen Joan do it plenty of times. She always says it’s simply a tool and that you should use it to your advantage. You’ve never done it though. Perhaps it’s your little amount of consciousness that remains that tells you it’s wrong. You don’t know and the alcohol in your system doesn’t help. So, when you reach him, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Hi.”

He looks at you, the cigarette dangling between his lips. “Hello.”

“How old are you?” You ask, immediately feeling stupid for such a question.

“What are you a cop?” He chuckles.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “No uh... sorry.”

“It’s fine love, just not a very good pick-up line,” he replies. He takes his cigarette out, his eyes locked on yours. “Especially since you look like you’re sixteen.”

“Seventeen actually.” You correct him.

“Ah, well there’s something we share then.”

Something about the way he’s looking at you comforts you. There’s no recognition in his eyes at all. You can tell. To him, you are just another girl. Not the lead singer of The Runaways. Just a simple girl.

“You can try again if you’d like,” he says. You look at him, confused. “Try another pick-up line.”

You gently smile and think for a few seconds. Nothing better comes to mind.

“Come here often?”

He laughs. “Somehow I think that was worse than the first one.”

“Sorry. Usually, I’m better at this sort of thing,” you reply. You put your hands back in your pockets, suddenly feeling very hot with embarrassment.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s cute.”

There’s a moment of silence. He takes a sip of his drink; you stare at his hand. The way it looks wrapped around the glass makes your stomach fill with butterflies. You hate how much you want him to take you home. You don’t even know his name. But he’s handsome, so much so it makes you unable to think straight. You need to know more.

“Are you from around here?”

He nods. “Born and raised in London. You?”

For a split second you wonder, if he’s from London how come he doesn’t know who you are? Sure, your band isn’t on the same level of success as Queen or ACDC but you’re also not underground. You push the thought away.

“Originally from Westchester but now I’m here in London for... work,” you answer.

“Work? I thought you were seventeen.”

“Yes but, eighteen next month. I already finished school.”

He takes another drag of his cigarette. “Wish I could say the same, I still have another year left. Though, I rather enjoy school, gets me away from my dear parents.”

“Oh, where do you go?”

You notice the way he shifts his posture. “Out of the country, you wouldn’t know of it.”

“Like a boarding school?”

“I suppose you could say that.”

You look around the pub, a slight feeling of awkwardness blooming within you. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. You’ve done this before. You decide to blame it on the cheap vodka because really, you’re better than this.

“So, what’s your name then?” You ask after a few more minutes.

“Does it really matter?” He replies, catching you a bit off guard. He flicks the ash off his cigarette, his dark eyes on yours. “All of it’s the same.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don’t play dumb love, I know this isn’t your first time. I’m sure you’ve chatted up many other lads and had them take you home.” There’s something about the tone in which he speaks that has your knees almost wobble.

“Why would you think that?”

He sighs, leaning over to a small table discards his cigarette in an ashtray, and leaves his glass. When he leans back on the wall, now with both of his hands-free, he buries them in the pockets of his baggy jeans. He looks down at you with an expression that could send your morals far out of mind. You want him, terribly. And you think he knows this.

“Besides the fact that you said you’re usually better at this, you’re also possibly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he eventually answers.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “I highly doubt that, but nevertheless thanks for the compliment.”

“I mean it. Most girls I see still wear those long skirts and sweaters, but you, you’re dressed like you could pass as a rock star.”

Your face heats up once again. You know he’s right. With your leather jacket, flared jeans, high-heeled boots, and small tight top you know it’s clear what kind of person you are. Your makeup only adds to it, black smudged eyeliner and glitter on your eyes. It’s a toned-down version of what you wear on stage. He doesn’t need to know that though.

You give him a smile and shrug. “Rock is my favorite genre, what can I say? You sort of got that look too though, not quite as intense.”

“Not a gentleman?” He chuckles.

“No.” You laugh, shaking your head. “At least I hope not.”

“I see. You don’t fancy the good boys. Well fortunately for you, I’m a bit of a troublemaker. At least, that’s what my schoolmates and family say,” he mentions. “What’s wrong with the good boys anyway? They could treat you like a lady.”

“Too gentle, I’m not a fan of it,” you answer honestly.

He smirks, sending warmth straight to your core. “So is your intention to get me out of here and treat you... not gently?”

“My intention is simply to buy you another drink, maybe enjoy a dance or two. What happens at the end of the night is not particularly on my mind right now. I’m more focused on learning your name. Why? Is that what you’d fancy?” You counter, looking up at him through your long lashes.

It has the effect you hoped for because he stands up straight, his back finally off the wall. He offers his hand to you, and you take it softly in yours. It’s so much bigger, so much warmer. You try your hardest to kill all the thoughts of where else you’d like him to touch you with his hand.

“Sirius Black,” he introduces himself.

“Like the star?” You question without thinking.

“Yes, like the star. Now what’s your name.”

“Y/n y/l/n,” you say.

“Charmed. So, how about that drink?”

You smile. It’s going to be a good night, you know it.

The next few hours go by in a flash. You and Sirius drink more than you probably should and dance to the many different songs that play on the jut box. A few different times throughout the night you find the eyes of your bandmates, each of them giving you big smiles and thumbs up as they watch you with Sirius. At one point Joan makes a lewd hand gesture, and you barely get a chance to see Lita smack her. It’s past twelve when you find yourself outside the pub with Sirius sitting on a curb sharing a cigarette.

“I hate these bloody shoes,” you mumble as you dig your heel into the pavement. “They make my feet sore.”

“Then why do you wear them?” Sirius asks, amusement evident in his tone.

You exhale a long breath of smoke, passing the half-burnt cigarette back to him. “I dunno. Beauty is pain.”

“For some, but I’m sure even without those things you’re just as pretty. Actually, I would bet pounds on that being true,” he replies.

“I think I’m rather plain without all this. Would you think the same of me without my makeup and outfit?”

You watch him smirk. “I should think you look even prettier without all of that on. Especially the clothes.”

Your stomach fills with butterflies for the thousandth time tonight. Your shyness left hours ago when you took your first shot. So, instead of simply blushing and looking away, you stand and look down at him with your own smirk.

“Quite the charmer. How about you find come back to mine and find out for yourself?”

He takes one last drag of the cigarette before standing, flicking it to the pavement, and crushing it beneath his sneaker. You watch helplessly as he releases a cloud of smoke, his hand now held out to you.

“I’d quite like that. Lead the way.”

~~~

You don’t know how you keep your composure the whole way home, especially with Sirius’s hand handing yours the entire time. On the train, as you sit, your head on his shoulder, he rubs his thumb across your knuckles. It’s a gesture that makes you glad you aren’t standing because your legs feel like jelly. And on the walk up to your apartment, he lets go of your hand and instead places it on the small of your back. You almost fall down the stairs at the contact.

Once you’re inside you immediately take off your boots, leaving them somewhere by the front door. Your jacket follows, only it’s hung on one of your kitchen chairs. When you turn to look at Sirius you find his eyes wandering all over your apartment, examining the details you assume. His sneakers are off, his hands are in his pockets.

“You must have a special job, this place is wonderful,” he says.

“My mates help me with the money, it’s not all mine,” you reply. It’s true, they do help you earn money from performing. You step closer to him, your hands behind your back. “And it’s really not that big. One bedroom, one bathroom, and one very tiny living room combined with the kitchen. But it’s more than enough for me. Would you like the tour?”

“Of course, if the tour starts in your bedroom.”

You can’t help the blush that takes over your face. “Follow me.”

The walk is fast, with every step you feel your heart rate increase. You’ve done this a few times, but for some reason, this time feels different. Perhaps it’s because all the other guys can’t compare to Sirius’s beauty in the slightest. Or perhaps it’s because you already like him a bit more than you should for a one-nighter. You don’t know. And you don’t care to know because you’re about to reach your door.

You open the door fast, letting him in first, and closing it behind you. It’s dark, the only lights coming from outside your small window. You don’t reach for the lights though. Instead, you step closer to the boy, the sound of your breathing suddenly far too loud for your liking. His silhouette moves closer to you as well. It’s almost like there’s an invisible force pushing the two of you together, and you find yourself liking it.

He touches you first. One of his hands finds your waist, he guides you to him faster. Soon enough, you’re practically pressed against him. You can barely breathe from the proximity. You’ve never felt something this intense. You look up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Still want me to not be gentle?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I want you to ruin me,” you say, pressing one of your hands to his chest. You’re happy to find his heart is racing just like yours. “Don’t hold back.”

“Alright.”

Before you can even think of another thought, his lips are on yours. You kiss back instantaneously, your hand moving up into his hair. It’s soft, like you expected. He’s far from gentle with his kissing, and you’re glad. His lips move fast on yours, his teeth scraping your tongue. He bites down on your lip so hard you whimper, and the metallic taste of your blood clouds your senses.

Still, despite the pain, when he pulls back you almost whine from the loss of contact. But his hands move fast to pull your shirt up. You help him get it off, then move to his. Through the darkness, you can see the few tattoos he has on his chest and shoulder. They’re dark, they’re beautiful. You run your fingertips over them as he leans back down and connects your lips once again. You begin to guide the two of you towards your bed.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you allow yourself to fall back onto it. Sirius doesn’t follow you though. Instead, he stands between your legs at the foot of the bed and begins to undo the buttons of your jeans. You watch in awe, lifting your hips to help him drag them down your legs, leaving you only in your bra and panties. You sit up, your eyes on him, as you start undoing his belt.

After his jeans are on the floor he pushes you back down on the mattress, climbing over you this time. You kiss him deeply, dragging one of your hands down his warm back, and weaving the other through his hair. That warmth deep inside you has grown, consuming you entirely. You can feel the wetness between your legs, surely staining your panties. You’ve never been so turned on by a guy in your life.

He suddenly parts your kiss, his lips beginning to move down your jaw and neck. You moan, throwing your head back to give him more access. When he bites down on you, so hard you can feel a stinging from it breaking skin, you pull at his hair, sounds of pleasure escaping your swollen lips.

Eventually, after leaving many hickeys and bite marks on your neck, he pulls back entirely and flips you over onto your stomach. You smirk against the mattress as you feel him unclip your bra. To help get it off, you lift yourself on your hands, and the straps quickly fall. You throw it off without even thinking about it. You’re about to turn back but Sirius presses a hand between your shoulder blades, silently telling you to stay as you are. You don’t hesitate to comply.

You feel him move and instinctively you lift your hips in the air. He places a kiss on your back, it almost makes you shiver. Then his hands are on your hips, pulling your last piece of clothing off. You normally would feel some sense of vulnerability at this point. Completely naked with your ass in the air. But the alcohol mixed with the utter need you have for Sirius takes control. You feel him shift.

“Do you have a rubber?” The sound of his voice makes you squeeze your legs together.

“Unless you have a disease, you don’t need one. I’m on birth control,” you answer, looking over your shoulder at him.

“No diseases I swear,” he says.

“Then proceed.”

You get up properly on all fours, the anticipation killing you. When he positions his tip at your entrance, you inhale sharply. He rubs his cock through your wet folds for a few seconds, brushing against your clit ever so slightly, before thrusting inside you in one quick, hard motion. You can’t help the moan that leaves you. He’s big, stretching you in a way that’s on the brink of being painful. It’s perfect.

He fucks you hard, very hard. Each thrust hits that spot inside you that makes your legs shake. At one point, your arms give out and your face presses against the mattress. Your hands twist in the sheets, your moans muffled by the bed. Sirius doesn’t like this. He twists one of his hands in your hair and pulls you up, the pain only adding to the building of your orgasm.

“Sirius,” you gasp. “Fuck Sirius.”

He’s relentless. He fucks you through your first orgasm, not faltering for even a second. He only stops when you can’t hold yourself up anymore, pulling out and flipping you onto your back. You scratch your nails down his back as he begins to fuck you in missionary, your lips on his.

You don’t know how long passes by the time he tells you he’s close. What you do know is that your second orgasm is not far either. With tears in your eyes, you let him switch positions once again, this time you’re on top of him. Your muscles are weak and sore, but that doesn’t stop you from riding him as well as you can. Sweat covers your body, and incoherent words drip off your lips. You can barely take it anymore.

“I-I’m almost there,” you mumble.

“Me too love,” Sirius replies, his breath ragged. “Finish us both off.”

You struggle to hold yourself up, a tear rolling down your cheek. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can, just a few more minutes,” he assures you, running one of his hands through your hair.

Much to his word, in a few minutes, he finishes. Hard. He moans your name in an indescribable tone, and his cock pulses inside you so intently, it causes your second orgasm to occur. As this happens, you lie on his chest, both of your breathing very uneven. He holds you tight against him.

Eventually, you roll off him and stare at your ceiling. You try to comprehend what just happened. Never in your life have you experienced something so intense. Most of the time when you told guys to be rough with you, they’d be turned off. But Sirius... You turn to your side to face him.

“Want a smoke?”

“Certainly.”

~~~

It’s safe to say, you don’t let him go all summer. You spend every second you can with him. Most of the time in your sheets, but a good amount doing other things. You paint his nails black, teach him how to wear eyeliner, and how to dress more like yourself. You enjoy every second you get with him.

He never does discover your fame, at least he never says so. You think he would know. Each time you go out you try your hardest to be unnoticeable and you always hide away magazines and switch the channel whenever something about your band is shown. But he never does say anything. Sometimes at night, you sing to him softly and you always laugh when he tells you that you should take it professionally.

You learn how much he hates his family, except for his little brother. You learn he loves Queen and David Bowie. You learn his favorite color is ironically black. You learn as much about him as you can and with each fact you do learn, you only fall more for him. But you never speak of it. You know the inevitable ending.

On the night before he goes back to school, the two of you lay in your bed, a thick silence between you. As usual, you pass a cigarette back and forth. Only this time, there are no words accompanying. Until he speaks.

“For once, I’m not looking forward to going back.”

You turn to your stomach and look at him. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“Me either,” he agrees. He holds the cigarette to you; you take it fast. “I can phone you if you want. You know, while I’m there. Or send letters.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” You question.

“I think I really fancy you, and I don’t want to leave on a bad note.”

You give him a weak smile and press a kiss on his bare shoulder. “Oh, Sirius.”

~~~

A few months later...

“Five minutes till show time,” an assistant tells you.

You’re sitting in your dressing room backstage. Joan, Sandy, and Lita all have their own space now. You find it funny how much The Runaways have blown up since the summer. Now, everywhere you turn you see yourself in a magazine or a news article. You can’t go anywhere without being recognized, or without the paparazzi showing up.

As you look in the mirror your mind travels back to Sirius. This happens a lot. Right before a concert, you think of him. Sometimes you wonder if maybe he’s out there listening. You haven’t heard from him since he went to school. You aren’t angry, only a bit sad. You’re mostly grateful though. He inspired most of the songs in your number-one album that got the band all the new attention.

You stand from the vanity and sigh. Tonight, your performance is being televised worldwide. Beside the door is your guitar, you pick it up as you begin your journey out to the stage. You’ve got a good lineup, even a small intermission for a happy birthday song. You hope wherever he is he hears it.

After all, it is November 3rd.

[btsgotjams27]

don't push your luck | knj

you’re asked to present at an important meeting, but of course, your rival has to come along for the ride.

✨ title: don't push your luck | one-shot ✨ pairing: namjoon x f!reader ✨ genre/au: angst | ex college rivals, e2l, co-workers, one-bed trope ✨ rating: pg-18 | ✨ word count: 6.4k ✨ warnings: language, joon loves to call reader a lot of pet names, suggestive language, they're both kinda jerks to one another, they've also known each other for a long time (and slept together once), both are literary agents, mentions of surgery and cancer, banter, mentions of alcohol, they sleep in the same bed, there is a small hug, reader has misconceptions of joon, did i mention angst?, reader likes to blame namjoon for her shortcomings ✨ a/n: hi--so this was originally supposed to be out for joonie's birthday lmao and here it is a few weeks later. don't be afraid to let me know what you think. i love hearing from readers.

“Hold the door!”

A heaving sensation fills your chest and you feel out of breath. Everything you could imagine going wrong before a flight happened—your alarm wasn’t set, the Uber arrived late and hit every traffic light, security ‘needed’ to rifle through your suitcase for suspicious items, and the stupid expensive carry-on you purchased has given up on you.

“You made it just in time,” the attendant smiles and scans your plane ticket.

“Oh, thank god.”

You’re grateful to be in first class and now you can finally relax. It’s even better when you look at your row and the seat next to you is empty. There are a few glares from other passengers, but you don’t care–you’ve made it, and that’s all that matters.

When you settle into your seat, you check your phone for any last-minute work emails. The flight attendant announced the plane was ready to taxi for take-off. They ask everyone to be seated and buckled.

As you’re ready to plug your earbud in, you hear a muffled bang from behind. Peering over your shoulder, you realize you’re in the row before the bathrooms. Great, you think, that’ll be fun. You can hear clinking and clanking from the bathroom door along with someone shuffling out as the door slam shuts.

“Sir, please take your seat. We’re ready for take-off,” the flight attendant says.

The man clears his throat. “Oh, yes, of course. My seat’s right here.”

You look up to see none other than the person who has become the bane of your existence, Kim Namjoon. They say keep your friends close, but your enemies closer and he loved to be so close to you alright–everywhere you are to be exact.

Your jaw clenches as he plops down beside you. A few seconds later, a woman emerges from the bathroom. She brushes past the attendant, holding a card between her fingers as she peers down at Namjoon. “That was fun. Call me sometime,” she grins while walking away.

“You’re disgusting.” A shiver runs down your spine as one can assume what they were doing in there.

Namjoon gives you puppy eyes. “You’re so mean to me,” he pouts, folding his arms against his chest as he looks down. Not a split second later, he turns to you with a smirk. “I can rock your world whenever you want, angel.”

If only he could see the smoke fuming from your ears. He would never let that one time you slept with him go, would he? It was a moment of weakness you wish you could take back.

You scoff at his comment. “I can’t believe they just let anyone on airplanes now.”

His eyes rake over you. “I could say the same about you,” he retorts.

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

“What do you think I’m doing here, darling?”

Your body cringes at the stupid pet name. “Oh, I don’t know, to annoy the fuck out of me?” you say, flashing a wry smile.

“Ah, yes. That’s on my itinerary too, but you know I can’t resist an all-expenses-paid trip when it’s offered.”

This was your chance to make an impression on one of the biggest publishing houses. But with Kim Namjoon tagging along on this little trip? He will consume your thoughts because you can’t think of anything else when he’s around–plotting and scheming ways to take you down.

“Just stay out of my hair tomorrow.”

Namjoon sucks his teeth. “Wish I could, sweetheart. But, whatever Ms. Davis wants, she gets.”

A part of you wondered if Namjoon was sleeping with her to get to the top of the food chain, like the vulture he is. You shivered at the thought of the two in compromising positions. Namjoon’s college shenanigans were something that continued even into adulthood, you guessed. 

The blinking cursor in this blank Word document has been mocking you, thinking you’re a clown. But you blame Kim Namjoon. He’s pushed his seat back, legs crossed and reclined, hands behind his head as he’s laughing obnoxiously at the movie on his computer screen. Every stifled laugh and clap has you rolling your eyes.

You can’t concentrate when he’s around, and that’s how it’s always been since sophomore year of college. The countless conversations with yourself because you had to be ready with a witty remark in case he is a smart-ass about anything and everything.

It was a sweet relief when you walked across that stage to shake the president’s hand and retrieve the rolled-up paper. And when you lifted your tassel from one side to the other, you exhaled because you never had to cross paths with him again.

That is four years into your job, and who shows up sitting in your office? None other than Kim Namjoon–your old academic rival.

You’re 29. No man should have you gritting your teeth, ready to claw at him. Then again, he’s no ordinary man–more like the devil incarnate. He makes your skin crawl. His presence makes you want to jump out of a window–because he’s suffocating, and the air in your lungs doesn’t exist.

Okay–maybe you’re exaggerating. But right now, you want to spill your glass of red wine just so he’ll have a stained shirt.

Your mouth twists as you nudge the giggly goon head. He takes off the noise-canceling headphones. “What?”

“Can you zip it? I can’t concentrate,” you say, repositioning in your seat.

Namjoon snickers. “Aw baby, you weren’t able to concentrate before I even started the movie. What makes you think me turning it off will help now?”

With a click of your tongue, you’re unsure why you even bothered asking him, so you return to your blinking cursor and blank document.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into New York City….” the announcement continues.

Guess it didn’t matter, anyway. You’ve spent two hours unproductive on a flight while Namjoon lollygags. At least you’ll have time to work on your presentation in peace when you get to your hotel.

You notice the way he walks and the way his bag is slung over his shoulder-practically about to drop, and you can’t forget the stupid overcoat that’s a tad too big for his frame. The crooked black tie contrasts against the crisp white button-down, and you want to help him fix it, only to make it snug enough to choke him a bit. It’s the way his cheeks lightly push against his thick black-rimmed glasses when he smiles, and his crescent eyes disappear, then immediately he widens them. It’s the way his hair falls perfectly above his glasses, and he daintily moves it away like the unflawed prince he is.

You hate you notice all these details about Kim Namjoon, but you’ve been around him long enough to have your guard up in case he pulls any funny business.

He doesn’t even care to check in at the front desk. Instead, he runs off to the bar when he sees a beautiful woman walking the same way.

You’re third in the check-in line, and you can’t help noticing the crowd hanging out in the lobby. Everyone’s dressed as some kind of anime character. It almost makes you feel underdressed in your plain white tee that’s tucked into your jeans.

A nudge from the side causes you to catch your footing. You clench your jaw before breathing out a sigh of frustration. He’s like a fly that won’t leave you alone.

“Want a sip? I think you could use a drink,” Namjoon says, tipping his glass toward you.

“I don’t drink on business trips.”

“Damn, baby. Lighten up. One drink won’t kill you,” he raises a brow and smirks. “Maybe it’ll even warm you up to me.”

If only your eyes could shoot laser beams every time he opened his smart mouth. Facing him, you took a step toward him, pretending to pick off lint from his coat. “It’s cute you think I’d warm up to you,” you pout.

Namjoon gives a lopsided grin, licking his lips. “Don’t worry, love. I’m sure we’ll become real cozy.”

When it’s your turn at the front desk, the receptionist flashes a warm smile, asking for your information. “Is this man with you as well?”

“No,” you say.

“Yes,” Namjoon chimes in.

You roll your eyes, glaring at the man who is the bane of your existence. “No. Nope,” you say, shaking your head. “He is not with me. He needs his own room.”

The receptionist doesn’t respond. She types and clicks around on the computer, her eyes darting around the screen. “I’m sorry ma’am, but it looks like we only have one room left,” she says, avoiding your gaze.

“What do you mean there’s only one room left?” you articulate, gritting your teeth.

The receptionist clicks around her screen again. “Again, I’m so sorry, ma’am. But we’re overbooked because of the anime convention in town. We can book this room for the two of you or give you a free hotel stay for another time to compensate for the inconvenience.”

Free hotel stay for another time? It wasn’t an option at the moment. You needed this hotel room to prepare for your presentation tomorrow.

Someone cosplaying as Sailor Moon walks past you and Namjoon. His elbows are propped on the counter as he faces toward the lobby. He turns to you. “Guess we’ll just have to share,” he raises a brow and licks his lips.

“You cannot think I’ll sleep in the same bed as him. I’d rather burn in hell instead.”

Namjoon turns to the receptionist. “She’s joking. She doesn’t want to sleep in the same bed because she knows she can’t control herself around me,” he grins, holding his hand out for the key card. “We’ll take what you have, love.”

You grumble, muttering curses under your breath as you grab your things, heading toward the elevator. First, he shows up unannounced, and now you have to share a room with him. Let alone a bed? What’s next? He’ll take over your presentation, you bet.

Namjoon whistles a cheerful tune while strolling down the hallway. How is he like a ray of sunshine right now? But to you, he is like a lingering cloud ready to rain on your parade.

When he reaches the door, he turns to you, still whistling, tapping the keycard against the sensor. The door almost slams in your face. You’re struggling to keep the heavy door open while dragging in your luggage.

“Really?” You huff with irritation in your voice.

Your eyes follow him as he makes himself comfortable on the bed. He’s lying down, his legs are dangling off as his feet touch the floor. And you hope the phone screen illuminating his honey skin drops on his face. You’re vile, you know. But Namjoon’s like an itch you can’t seem to reach.

Setting down your things, you walk over to him, slotting yourself between his legs, arms folded against your chest. “What are you doing in my bed?”

He chuckles, placing the phone beside him. He props himself up on his elbows, eyes raking over you. “Waiting for you to hop on, baby,” he sneers, patting his thigh.

How are you supposed to get any work done if he’s around invading the very air you breathe?

“In your dreams, Joon. You’re sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, baby girl. You don’t even wanna know what you do in my dreams.”

His dreams, huh? You’ve wondered how many times you’ve shown up. “Let me guess, am I strangling you?”

Namjoon sits up, pushing himself off the bed to stand. It forces you to take a step back. There’s a moment of silence before he speaks, “Actually, you’re the one who likes it, remember? Not me, princess.”

You’re inches away from him and you hope he doesn’t see you visibly gulp. It’s like everything is stripped away when Namjoon’s around. As much as you try to hide it, you hope he can’t see through your bullshit.

Clicking your tongue, you try to compose yourself, tilting your head as you gaze into those dragon eyes. “Keep dreaming, Joonie because that’s the closest you’ll ever come to fucking me.”

“Again—” he corrects you. His gaze turns dark as he scans you from head to toe. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Come on, love. Don’t you want another taste?”

You roll your eyes, pushing away his hand. “Another taste of Kim Namjoon?” you tut. “Please—I eat boys like you for breakfast.”

A stupid grin spreads across Namjoon’s face. His scent invades your space again, making you step back. “Well, I’ll be sure to serve you breakfast in bed tomorrow. I hear the sausage is great.”

You huff a breath, glaring at the tall, beefy man. “I swear to god, Kim Namjoon if you don’t stay on your side of the bed—there’s gonna be hell to pay!”

Namjoon puts his hands up in defeat. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll keep my package safe, but it's cute you think your mouth is big enough for me.” He raises a brow, gently nibbling on his bottom lip.

You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself, Joon. Always talking a big game, but you gotta put your money where your mouth is love.” You almost retch as the last word rolls off your tongue.

The night you slept with Namjoon was a hazy one. You blame the wine that was coursing through your veins and the critique you received from your professor—it messed with your head and you wanted nothing more than to get your mind off it. Namjoon was in the right place at the right time—annoying you like always. Naturally, he wouldn’t shut up, so you shut him up. One thing led to another and before you knew it, you had slept with your rival.

Walking away, you grab your bag, breathing a sigh of relief once you’re out of the room. It’s a stupid game the two of you have played since college—he riles you up, and you retaliate, but you would try your best to not let him get to you. 

You spent the last few hours sitting in the hotel’s bar, with headphones on as you clicked and clacked away at your laptop, finally getting your thoughts onto this Word document. There’s no music playing. You wanted to drown out the noise of the crowd.

As you’re facing out toward the lobby, you look up, glimpsing the bane of your existence, Kim Namjoon. You watch as he makes his way out of the hotel lobby, and now is your chance to sneak back up to the room and have some quiet for once.

When Namjoon’s out of view, you gather your things, making your way back up. As the door closes, a breath expels from your lips and you can finally breathe again.

Sitting down at the small table, your stomach growls, a reminder that you had ignored for the past hour because this presentation was more important than nourishment. You’re more than halfway finished, and your reward would be a delicious meal.

It’s nearly 9 o’clock, and your meal is nowhere in sight. The outline is finished, talking points are ready to go, but your laptop is dead, and with your luck, you forgot to pack the charger.

You want nothing more than to disappear and crawl into a hole and never come out of it. You’re ready to jump ship without a lifejacket—it’s practically what you’re doing going into this presentation. If only you had more time to prep instead of being thrown into this so last minute. Maybe you shouldn’t have told your boss you’re always ready for whatever’s thrown your way.

The rumbling in your stomach continues, but you’d rather wallow in self-deprecating thoughts than fill your belly with a delicious meal.

Why can’t things go your way for once?

As you’re sitting on the couch beside the window, a sprinkle of rain falls, and it’s perfect, actually–matching your exact mood. You place your chin against the jade-green velvet-colored couch, breathing a sigh of frustration.

How are you meant to get others to care when you're apathetic about why you got into this profession in the first place? You remember discovering your first author and how they made you kick your feet and giggle all night. The feeling of watching someone grow from a small audience into a commercial success made you love your job, and when you and an author are on the same wavelength and both so passionate about a story? You were unmatched when the stars aligned.

But this trip was a different story. You had been working with this author, but Ms. Davis asked Namjoon to chime in, and once something is in Namjoon’s hands, it’s never yours again. It was like a repeat of your college years.

So when Ms. Davis asked you to fill in for Namjoon, you jumped at the chance because you had missed this story and this author, and you hoped Namjoon didn’t distort the beautiful story and world that she had built. You get why everyone fawns over Namjoon. Admitting it crushes your soul just a tad, but he’s smart, charming, suave, and not that bad to look at. You just wished he’d let you have a win now and again. You’re tired of being second best.

When you hear a beep from the door, you sigh, throwing your head back. You don’t acknowledge your roommate for the night and instead focus on the rain droplets hitting the window. Pulling your knees toward your chest, your arms rest on them along with your head as you stare outside. You’re not in the mood to deal with Namjoon right now.

A delectable aroma fills your nose when Namjoon’s presence occupies your space. He sets something next to your feet while on the couch. You look at the box and then at him.

“What’s this?”

“You need to eat.”

“I already ate,” you lie, and your stomach growled, loud enough you’re sure Namjoon heard it too. You make a face, clenching your stomach, hoping it doesn’t do it again.

“Just eat,” he says, bending down to grab the box for you.

“Is this your way of poisoning me, so you can do the presentation tomorrow?”

Namjoon scoffs. “No, actually. It’s me being a decent human being. I saw you at the bar, and I know how you are when you’re in work mode. You forget to eat.”

There’s a fire rising in your chest, and you want nothing more than to be left alone. “I didn’t think the devil had a heart,” you quip back. It’s easier when he isn’t, makes you feel less of an ass—and so much for not being in the mood to argue.

He tuts. “Why are you always like this? Even when we were in school together. You’ve always hated me.”

Maybe it’s how everything’s been handed to him on a silver platter–like how he doesn’t have to work his ass off just to get a sliver of recognition. Maybe it’s because he could be the good guy, but he chooses otherwise. Maybe it’s because somehow he always shows up wherever you are, ready to take things from you.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Fine, starve. I don’t even know why I tried.”

You groaned. “Can you just go away? You’re so annoying.”

“Me? Annoying? You’ve had a stick up your ass ever since you saw me on the plane, and I haven’t done shit to you. I’m here out of courtesy for our boss. What am I supposed to do? Say no?”

“Yeah! You should’ve.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “God–there’s no winning with you, is there?”

You ignore his comment, shifting in your seat, eyes focused on the rain again.

His jaw clenched as he backed off. “I was trying to be nice–break the ice, but it’s useless when I keep hitting a wall with you. See you later. I need a drink.”

Your eyes squeeze shut when the door slams. Sometimes you wonder if you’re too harsh or if you channeled your hatred toward something else, if it would benefit you more. But this was the circus of you and Namjoon–mortal rivals, nothing less, nothing more.

It’s well past midnight when you illuminate your phone for the third time. You’ve been tossing and turning, panicking about tomorrow’s presentation. Maybe you’d have to forgo using a slideshow and go off your outline. Graphic design isn’t your passion anyway because Canva was your best friend for presentation templates.

You had prepared yourself for having to share a bed with Namjoon, but you can’t help but notice that he hasn’t returned from wherever he went. You wonder if this was it–if it was the final straw for him, with you and your bitchy attitude.

As you’re on your phone, going over your outline, a beep from the door alerts you that Namjoon is back. You quickly stuff your phone underneath your pillow, turning in the opposite direction with your back facing him.

“Yeah, mom. Don’t worry. I’ll be back.” His voice softens when he sees the lights are out.

An indistinct voice is heard from the other end, but you close your eyes, pretending to be fast asleep.

“Yes, I have it on my calendar and already asked for the days off. I’ll be back before your surgery.”

You feel bad listening in on his conversation and even worse when you realize his mother is having surgery.

Namjoon hums. “I love you too, Mom. I’ll see you next week. Mm–bye.”

He sets his phone down and cards his hand through his dark hair, but it softly falls back in place. You can hear him ruffling through his bag before he walks off to what you guess is the bathroom to wash up.

You turn over when there’s a sudden ache in your side. Your eyes open to see the light shining from underneath the door, and he’s pacing around as he brushes his teeth.

When the water shuts off, he opens the door, turning off the light. The darkened curtains eliminate all light sources in the room, save for the bit peeking through from the moonlight shining on him, revealing his broad shoulders and honey-skin chest. Thank god it’s dark, otherwise if Namjoon saw you ogling him, he’d have a field day. But the gawking ends when he slips on a shirt.

You shift back to the side that’s still aching and Namjoon slips under the cover, keeping his distance. You’re facing away from him, and you can’t help but hear the frustration when he huffs a breath.

Of course, the stupid ache doesn’t dissipate, and you’re back on your side, facing Namjoon. You peek an eye open. His phone is dimly lit before he turns it off, setting it on his chest. Both of his hands are laced behind his head as he stares at the ceiling, and you’re fighting the urge to say something.

What you overheard was personal, something you weren’t meant to hear. After all these years of being academic rivals and co-workers, you knew little about his life except that he was a trust fund baby and had a younger sister.

“Namjoon?” You quietly croak out.

He quickly gazes in your direction. “Sorry—did I wake you? I didn’t mean to.”

“No, I couldn’t sleep, and then I heard you come in.”

A muttered apology escapes his lips along with ‘Night,’ as he turns on his side, facing away from you.

His demeanor is different, almost as if he’s let down his guard. You’ve never seen him distraught before.

“Namjoon?”

He hums but doesn’t turn around to face you.

“Is everything okay with your mom?”

Namjoon clears his throat. “Yeah, she’s okay. At least, I hope so.”

You’re nibbling on your bottom lip. “I couldn’t help but overhear she’s having surgery?”

“Oh—yeah, we, um, recently found out she has breast cancer and has to have a mastectomy.”

“Joon,” you utter. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he stammers, shifting himself into a more comfortable position. “Everything happened so fast, and I feel like I haven’t had time to process my thoughts. I’m trying my best to stay strong, you know?”

You place your hand under your cheek as you’re staring at his backside. The two of you stay silent for a moment.

“I get that,” you say, lying on your back, bringing the duvet to cover you. “Um, my mom also went through breast cancer a few years ago, if it’s any consolation, I suppose breast cancer is one of the better ones to have? If that’s such a thing—I mean, there’s a lot of research that’s gone into it, and there’s so much support out there if she wants it. So, um, yeah, just keep your head up. Your mom will be okay.”

Namjoon mumbles, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

He doesn’t turn to you, and you don’t blame him. You have been a bit of an ass to him, but you’re not made of stone—there’s a heart buried somewhere inside.

Flipping on your side, your backs are facing one another, and you hear a sniffle. Immediately, you turn back, hesitant about being in this position. In the time you’ve known Namjoon, he’s never cried in front of you. There are more sniffles, and you can hear him holding back whatever’s caught in his throat.

Your heart’s racing, your breath is slow and controlled. You shift closer to him, removing the pillow you had placed in the middle to separate the two of you.

“Joon?”

He wipes his nose and clears his throat. “Yeah?”

“Would it be okay if I hugged you?”

Namjoon hums in agreement, and you take it upon yourself to inch closer to him. Somehow he seems so much smaller when you’re this close. You snake your arm underneath him, wrapping it around his waist, pressing your body against his. It takes a moment for him to register what’s happening, and then his hand finds yours, entwining them together.

You’ve been where he has and any kind of surgery is scary, especially when it’s a loved one. Your mind can only wander to the worst-case scenarios.

Your bodies are in sync as you can feel his chest rise and fall. But his breath is ragged and shaky. You suppose he’s fighting off any tears threatening to fall.

“You can tell me to fuck off.”

He chuckles. “No, I like this. It feels nice.”

Your mind finally settled during the night, and you could fall asleep. Namjoon’s snores were your alarm clock this morning. The weight of his arm draped over your waist. It was a familiar feeling—just like the day after you had slept with him. Only this time, all your clothes were on, and there was no accompanying headache.

Peering over your shoulder, he was still fast asleep, so this was your chance to sneak away. You were hoping to go over your presentation a few more times before your meeting today with the publisher. But as soon, as you decide to slip away, a buzzing from Namjoon’s side causes you to close your eyes and pretend like you weren’t trying to get up.

It buzzes a few times before Namjoon stirs awake, fumbling around to find his phone. “Hello?” he says in a groggy, raspy voice.

You shift away from him, snuggling underneath the duvet. The conversation is indistinct, and you can’t hear anything but Namjoon’s responses.

“Wait—” Namjoon sits up, turning away from you, his feet planted on the ground. “You want me to do what?”

He’s frustrated by whatever he was told.

“No, I can’t do that to her.” He quickly peers in your direction, and he sees you fast asleep. The voice on the other line continues along with Namjoon’s frustration. He’s rubbing his temple and sighs. “Please don’t make me do this. She already hates me as is.”

You can’t help but wonder who’s on the other line and who the ‘she’ is.

Namjoon shakes his head, and his voice quiets down. “She’s been working so hard on this presentation. I can’t just take this from her.”

Your heart sinks when you realize he’s talking about you. There’s no one else doing a presentation, and Namjoon was working with this author before they were handed back to you.

“Okay, okay. I’ll let her know,” he said dejectedly. Namjoon doesn’t even say goodbye. He’s crouched over, elbows on his knees as his head hangs low.

The soft chimes of your alarm go off. You wait a few seconds before reaching for your phone to silence it. Sitting up, you glance over at Namjoon who’s looking right at you.

“Morning. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, my alarm woke me up,” you say before flipping the duvet over. You stand, smoothing down your hair. “Big presentation today. I should get ready for the day.”

You’re ready to run to the bathroom, but Namjoon stops you. “Um, about that.”

Slowly, you turn to him. “What about it?”

Namjoon’s hands are entwined, and his thumbs fiddled out of nervousness. “Ms. Davis called and wants me to do the presentation.”

You suck in your lower lip, gently chewing on it. “But I worked on it like a madwoman last night. Why would Ms. Davis ask me to do it and then go back to asking you?”

A buzzing from your phone interrupts you. The screen flashes ‘Ms. Davis.’ You peer at Namjoon, then answer the phone. “Hello? Ms. Davis?”

“Good morning, ____. I hope you slept well.”

You hum in response.

“I know I asked you to go to New York, but now that Namjoon is there. I think it’ll be better if he does the presentation. He just has a way with words, and I think he’ll be able to land this deal, don’t you think?”

Namjoon avoids your gaze by scrolling on his phone. You remember Namjoon’s words from the day before, ‘What Ms. Davis wants, Ms. Davis gets.’

You take a moment before responding. “Why yes, Ms. Davis, I agree. Namjoon would be perfect for this presentation.”

She continues about supporting him in whatever way he needs today, and you’re seething like a teakettle that’s ready to burst. You agree with everything she says.

“Mmhm, yes. I’ll make sure he has everything he needs.”

You bid her a chipper farewell before hanging up. Your phone’s clenched in your hand, and your chest is heaving. Thoughts are running rampant—you’re ready to quit on the spot.

Licking your lips, you look at Namjoon. “Well, good luck with your presentation today. Don’t ruin it for our author and Ms. Davis.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “No–you worked hard on it. You should do it.”

You scoff. “Don’t act like you don’t want to take this from me, Joon. It’s what you’re good at. You always get your way—just like when we were in school and now even at work. No matter how hard I work for everything, you’re there to reap the reward.”

His jaw clenches. He stands, walking to you. “You’re so fucking exhausting,” he spits out. “You think I’m some guy who’s out to get you or wants the worst for you–it’s like whatever preconceived notion you’ve fabricated has overlooked the fact that I’m a pretty decent guy if you could get past whatever thing that I’ve done to tick you off.” He sighs. “I’m telling you to do the presentation, but here you are blaming me.”

The warmth from his body is scorching as he nears you–it matches the energy firing inside you. Here he is, allowing you to shoot your shot, but you’re stubborn and temperamental.

Your gaze pierces through him. “Do whatever you want, Joon. I quit.”

Quickly, you gather your things, stuffing them into your carry-on. You know how ridiculous it sounds, but Kim Namjoon tends to bring out your foolishness. You’ve had seven years of him right by your side, which was too many for you. Maybe it was time to find a private island with no form of communication to escape him.

Namjoon doesn’t stop you, he lets you leave. He knows how strong-willed you are and once you’ve decided, there’s no changing it.

You wash up in the hotel lobby’s restroom, rushing off to nowhere because well–you had quit and home was two hours away by flight and it wasn’t leaving until tonight.

Cars and buses screech to a halt along with the sounds of never-ending honking. Chattering from tourists and bicyclists whiz by your side. There’s never a dull moment so you can get your head on straight. 

A buzzing from your bag goes unnoticed because you’re too busy figuring out the next steps. You don’t know what you’re doing. Quitting, so suddenly? Was it out of spite? If you couldn’t even handle Namjoon, how would you handle the next prick that came along? 

You held your arm out, trying to hail a cab, but no one stopped. Well, it was probably the worst time to grab one, anyway. Checking your phone, you noticed a missed call and a voicemail, and it wasn’t from anyone you were expecting.

It was from Noa Skye, the author you were trying to get published.

“Hey ____. I know I’ve been working with Namjoon for the last several months, but when I heard that you’re doing the meeting with HarperCollins instead, I screamed! I know you’ll be able to pitch my book well because you love this story as much as I do. So, yeah, I just wanted to call and wish you good luck. You’re going to do great. Talk to you soon!”

Your heart sank to your stomach when you heard Noa’s voicemail. It was true–you loved her story, and you wanted the entire world to read it so they could laugh and cry along with you. Her book deserved to be on bookshelves and New York’s best-seller list.

Should you buck up the courage and walk in with your head held high? And for once, maybe Namjoon was right–that you were looking for someone to blame and he was conveniently the scapegoat.

Noa deserved better than this ongoing battle between you and Namjoon; maybe more you than him–but regardless, you needed to set aside your ego for the sake of your author.

Huffing out a deep breath, you pulled your hair back, ready to fight for this presentation.

Namjoon was typing furiously, looking through his previous notes on Noa’s novel. He wished he had spoken to you about what you had outlined to get a better grasp. You and Noa had been working on her novel for a couple of months before Namjoon came into the picture. Surely, he knew how to charm the pants off publishers, but sometimes he felt like you captured the heart of these stories better than he did.

You’re jabbing the number seven several times, encouraging the elevator doors to close. Looking at your phone, there’s half an hour before the presentation. You hoped it was enough time to sort things out with Namjoon and go over your outline.

Turning the corner, you find Namjoon sitting with a laptop. He looks up, almost relieved when he sees you, but of course, he doesn’t make it known.

“Thought you quit,” he says when you’re near.

You flash a thin smile, sitting beside him. “I never waste a moment where I can rescue you, because it looks like you need my help.” A glimpse of a nearly empty page proves your point.

In normal Namjoon fashion, he’s ready to bite back, but he holds his tongue. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “You can say ‘thanks’ and I’ll call it even.” He mumbles something indistinct and you cup your hand up to your ear. “I’m sorry. I can’t hear you over the sound of your ego.”

His shoulders slump, and he cocks his head. “Thanks, ___. I owe you one.”

Wiggling in your chair, you’re smiling proudly because this is the first genuine show of gratitude from Kim Namjoon.

“Here’s what I have. Can you tell me what you and Noa have been working on?”

Even without visuals, you felt the presentation went well and did Noa justice with her novel. Namjoon was another surprise. He didn’t interrupt, waited until you finished before adding in his two cents.

Although the presentation and trip to New York were short and sweet, it was eye-opening for you because you had been toying with the idea of opening up a literary agency. The sound of being your own boss sounded lovely.

“We did good, huh?” Namjoon says as he stands beside you.

“We?” You quirk an eyebrow.

He tilts his head. “You. You did a good job.”

You stand proud outside of the hotel’s driveway as the two of you wait for an Uber. “I know. I always save the day.”

Namjoon chuckles. “Well, have a good flight back home.”

Whipping your head back to him, your brows stitched in confusion. “Are you not going back to Chicago?”

He shakes his head. “My mom’s surgery got moved up, so I’m flying straight to Seoul. I’ll be back in Chicago in two weeks.”

“Oh,” you mumble. “I hope everything goes well.”

“Thanks,” he flashes a small smile. A car pulls up to him. “Looks like my ride's here. I’ll see you.”

Namjoon grabs his carry-on, ready to leave, but you stop him. “Joon–” He turns back around. “I’m sorry about what happened this morning. You’re right. I haven’t treated you nicely and have blamed you for a lot of things over the years, and it’s no one’s fault, but my own. I hope things go well with your mom, and if you ever need anyone to talk to, you can call me.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Call you, hmm?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“Just–” you groan. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t even know why I tried.”

Namjoon lets go of his carry-on and walks back to you. “I’m messing with you.” He chuckles lowly, taking another step closer to you. He lifts your chin with his forefinger, his dragon eyes gazing into yours. “It’s our thing, isn’t it? You hate me, I hate you. We find some kind of common ground, then fall in love. Isn’t that in all the books we read?”

You lick your lips and nod, pointing to yourself. “Me? Fall in love with you? Don’t push your luck, Joon.”

--

read 'under the mistletoe' (a don't push your luck drabble)

[sea-of-dust]

Phantom theif boys x GN! Reader

Dating headcannons!

N: Adding comfort headcannons to knock two asks in one stone, they got changed to just comforting headcannons mostly. Ur not escaping pastel*pallette with this.

He's ready to fully wake up as soon as he hears your voice downstairs or just your footsteps. Morgana is not a fan of suddenly feeling his leg pulled out of bed.

Super ready to tease you. The guys smiling hard before he responds with something stupid. "I dare you" trying to hold off his chucking, he places his hand ontop of yours and spins you, stopping when you face him. "Are you a cheeseburger?" "no"

Let's you brush his hair, in fact you should. Curls are hard, ya know. His wrist can use a break, plus you're the one brushing it he sees it as a win. Ignoring the times you decided to give him pigtails

He can be super romantic at times, especially the most random, "I'm sorry I took so long, your beauty distracted me" he smirked twiddling a bit of his hair, you sigh, after a pause beginning to chuckle "I don't like you" "you love me" kissing your cheek he goes behind the counter "anything you wanna eat?"

He's always gonna be there to comfort you. Holding you close as you cry into his chest over something that had been bothering you, hearing you out while he cooks or staying by your side while you rant. "And then she was like," Oh well you need to go to extra help TO HELL WITH THAT!" You rub your temple "sorry she's just been getting on my nerves" "have you tried dropping or switching classes?" "She would request the request everytime" you'd wonder why she suddenly accepted the following day. Maybe she finally thought you were just bad at chemistry

Will tell you he's a phantom theif trying to rizz you up. "So like we use these things called personas to fight these shadows" "woah, that's cool, Ryuji." You didn't believe him, but you let him cook, he's trying his best

Embodiment of the YIPPE sound. He loves seeing you. Could be walking to class, and he'd stop midway. "Yo!" "Hey Ryuji" great now he's gonna repeat that 3 more times a day, won't even start a conversation, sometimes, just likes hearing you say hi to him

He's super cuddly when sleepy. "Where are you going" "I told you I'm going home" "nooo" he wraps his arms around your waist "you aren't allowed to leave" trying to slip out he tightens his grip. You had to call your parents to tell them you had no choice but to stay longer

He'd get so excited when anything sport related comes along. "I wanna watch the track team compete this weekend. You should come" "do you need me to bring snacks?" "You bring them every time, though! I'll bring them this time" He'd get super hyped up about someone from the school taking the lead he almost fell off the bleachers at times.

He would buy you snacks, and you two would talk about it on a bench. "He's so annoyingggg" "I know, right!" "Like he can't shut up everything's quiet and this mf 'I HAVE A BUISNESS' shut up" "like at the end of the day he's still an incel" "EXACTLY" you two would end up ranting with eatchother so much you end up calming eatchother down, this would also translate into you just being too sad to even make funny comments. "He's just so draining, kinda makes me wish someone just told him to be quiet" "for real I almost cried at his voice" "it's too squeaky right" "totally" laying your head on his lap you look up at him just thinking. "You're staring into my soul here." he strokes your hair with a nervous expression "good" In the end, he still comforts you the same way

"Oh, it's you" turned to "it's you.." REAL quick, as soon as you started dating, he got shy

He's gonna ask you to help him with art. "Y/n do you mind posing?" "With what?" "These live lobsters I found" ".... no thank you" "but!" "I'm gonna buy you those little wooden dolls just for that" "you're better than any piece of wood!" It turns more into a praise sesson he forgets about the lobsters he's basically keeping as pets at this point

You tried to teach him how to cook, or atlesst follow the recipe. "OK so we have the custard" you grab his hand, holding it up. "Don't use that we need it for later." "My Appologies" "it's alright it's your first time making this" He's fine the first time but gets way better with practice. He'd make you jealous with how nice he'd make his food look

Tried pick up lines they were good, but the execution could use work. "Y/n! Do you have a map? " "For what?" He pauses, looking down as if thinking for the next line "because i can't help but get lost in your eyes" you smirk, watching him get more bashful than you from his own line. "Are you a painting?" You cup his face making him look at you "because I can't take my eyes off you"

He isn't very good in this field...but he has spirit! You'd sigh while watching him paint after a few eye rolls, vacant stares,leaning on him. He's gonna sense it even if you don't do all that. "Is there something on your mind?" You look down to his paints before answering "a friend of mine moved away, and I found out recently she used to steal stuff from others" crossing your arms you continue "I kinda get why some of my stuff went missing now but just to think" "that does seem rather unfortunate" "she's lucky the stuff she took was all under 10 bucks or I would have asked the phantom theives to do something" he pauses his brush for a secound before continuing on "via the website?" "Yea! They'll probably handle her if it genuinely gets outta hand" he smiles as he puts down his paint and brush. "How about we go for a walk for you to let out some steam?" "sounds great"

"I'm alone. Would you like to join me?" "Do you realize how that sounds?" "Do you realize how dirty your mind is?"

He'll be resistant to cuddling at first but then slowly realize he likes it. Won't ask for it tho but he will be a little peeved when they aren't given. Subconsciously learn the way he stares at your arms, how he grips his own, and the way he tries to get a bit closer to you, you've learned the secrets to a touch starved akechi

Would be a bit annoyed when you bring up another dude. "And then Ryuji was shaking the vending machine and the guard thought we were trying to steal snacks" "I see" "I ended up getting em though" "mhm" "you're so aggressively disinterested" "yes I am" You pause before letting the smirk take over your face "so then akechi rubbed my face and asked for a kiss" "I should" he stops typing to press his lips softly on your cheek.

He'd take you everywhere with him. Not a choice, it's only when he's at his job that he's away from you, everywhere else? Same class right next to you. Eating lunch with you, would ask you to play darts with him after school. He'd wonder why you'd look so tired when you two finally got home after school, atleast he helps with homework.

"Akechi" you move hair from his face. "What is it?" You continue touching his face as he watches as your hands move around his face. "Is there something on your mind" "is it that obvious" you pull your hand away, but he takes his into yours. There's a short pause before you decide to speak again. "A person close to me stopped coming to school after an argument we had. I'm pretty worried" "you didn't try contacting them?" "I have, but I think they'll just get more annoyed" you sigh "I just don't know what to do" "let them have their momment they'll contact you when they feel like it, in the meantime" he covers you in the blanket he shared with you momments ago "you could stay here until it leaves your mind"

"So what is skibbity toilet?" "Zen no"

He'd always order for you at places, unless you changed your order he'd get you everytime. "You gotta stop doing that" "Why you jealous I know you better than you know yourself?" "Yes"

He tries to ask you for advice on Akane. "She got upset she couldn't play and eat" "did you try making it a tea party" he scoffs, giggling a bit at the suggestion. "I'm serious. Do you have any tiny tea cups?"

He's definitely touch starved when he gets home. Barely awake, he'd cling onto you, mumbling into your ear. He's fallen asleep for a few seconds on your shoulder. "Let's get you to bed, Zen." "it's comfortable here though." "it'll be more comfortable in bed." "ugghhhhh"

He's gentle when it comes to you, especially when you get home more upset than usual. "So how was work" in a slightly annoyed tone you respond "draining they tried to give me unpaid overtime again" you sigh "hmm" without much words he lays down with you hugging you "do you want anything?" "Sleep" he smiles fondly "this house will be so quiet it's like it was haunted" The next day, do expect most of your chores to be done already, as well as breakfast. It was made with love, not with skill

[iikatsukii]

3:15 (breathe)

synopsis: story inspired by the song 3:15 by russ

pairings: lo’ak x metkayina!reader

warnings: angst to comfort & minor violence

word count: 6.6k

a/n: ive been writing this for too long but im back with a present 🫶🏾 (also i know this one isnt shortened by a read more thing im sorry guys i tried idk why its not working but hopefully when i get my laptop charger back ill be able to fix it but pls just bare with me just this once)

you had been staring at the roof of your marui for about 20 minutes now. you were dreading getting up. you've felt like this for the past few months but couldn't pinpoint exactly when it started. being the youngest daughter of tonowari and ronal is like asking every boy in the clan to court you. when you chose rotxo, all the boys in the clan were heartbroken. you and tsireya found it kinda funny, to be honest.

you and rotxo have been dating for about half a year now. everything leading up to the relationship had been amazing. the fleeting glances, soft touches, the surprise dates. he had courted you perfectly, so he was over the moon when you finally said yes. his loving actions continued three months into the relationship. then suddenly, you started to notice a shift in his behaviors.

he wouldn't surprise you with dates anymore, he only hung out with ao'nung and his friends, he wouldn't make time for you, and when you did ask to spend time with him, he would brush you off, saying he was busy.

of course, your siblings didn't know about this. rotxo told you not to tell them. "i mean, what would ao'nung think of me? he would never want to be friends with me again," he told you. you sighed, "you're right, rotxo. i'm sorry. i won't say anything." rotxo pulled you into a hug, holding your head to his chest so you couldn't see the smirk he held on his face. on the other hand, you held an expression of self-doubt. like you knew the choice to not speak up was dumb, and you wished you could take your words back, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

so you remained in rotxo's arms day after day, putting on a show that everyone believed. never saying anything to anyone. never saying anything about all the harsh words rotxo would say to you, about the loneliness you felt, or about the scars he left on your heart.

tsireya, your twin sister, suspected something was off about your relationship because of how differently you had been acting recently. ever since rotxo started treating you poorly, tsireya would hear you cry yourself to sleep every night. still, when she confronted you about it, you would brush her off, saying she was probably hearing things from how tired she had been. and the thing is, nobody else seems to hear it, so it's not like tsireya can have someone to back her up.

you finally gathered the energy to get up, 2 hours later than you were supposed to, and you groaned, knowing your father was going to kill you. you quickly get dressed, rushing to find someone, anyone who can tell you where your father is. finally, you see a huge crowd, what looks like the entire clan, gathered at the shores of the beaches.

"uturu has been asked.." you heard faintly. as you made your way to the front of the crowd, where you heard your father's voice, you caught the tail end of the conversation. "toruk makto and his family will live among us. my children will teach your children the ways of the water so that your family does not suffer the burden of being useless." you hid behind your father. as he spoke, you looked over to who he was talking to.

a group of 6 darker-toned na'vi were standing huddled together. 2 parents and 4 children. you analyzed each child, still hiding behind your father. the smallest, youngest na'vi was holding her mother's hand, hiding behind her leg, similar to how you're hiding behind your father. the older female, who looked about your age, had an annoyed look on her face. you giggled at her expression, being able to tell that she wanted to be anywhere but here.

then you looked at the taller, assumingly older brother. he looked tight-laced, like he was the perfect child. a golden boy, if you would. not really your type but eh, who are you to say anything. you have a boyfriend, for crying out loud. you shouldn't even be thinking things like this in the first place. you rolled your eyes, ignoring the annoying thoughts in your head, as you looked at the other boy standing next to the eldest son.

that's when you noticed the eyes that were staring back at you. they were the prettiest amber color you've ever seen, accented by… is that hair above his eyes? his eyes glowed in the sun, and his markings? don't even start; his markings running along his body were mesmerizing. but the one thing that interested you was the look he held in his eyes. nobody had ever looked at you like that, and of course, that makes it harder to pinpoint precisely what makes you feel this way. while you were entranced in the visitor's eyes, you failed to notice your own boyfriend noticing you. once the clan's people started to disperse, your sister grabbed your hand and dragged you over to the new family.

rotxo was going to approach you, but he was stopped by ao'nung, who nodded his head back to the water, where they would later meet you, tsireya, and those 'freaks' for lessons. ao'nung missed the furious expression his best friend held. rotxo was quick to fix his face, though, playing nice. he saw the looks between you and that forest boy, and he was not happy about it. he decided to observe from afar before confronting you about anything, not wanting youîu to know that he noticed anything.

as you and tsireya approached the family, you got to take a closer look at the boy before you. your thoughts, though, were interrupted by your twin, "let us show you to your new home," as she and you guided the new family to their home, you could tell their father was trying to stay positive, but the way their mother dropped her belongings when she saw where they would be living was comedic to you. you couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction, not maliciously, of course. you're not like your brother ao'nung and boyfriend rotxo.

"sister, i was late to the gathering. i have no idea who these people are or what's happening." you whispered to your twin. "oh right! where were you, by the way? i had to go through ilu training with the boys alone! it was horrible." she groaned. you sighed. yeah, you're definitely gonna get your ass beat when you get home. "father didn't happen to notice, did he?" you said, already knowing the answer. tsireya just laughed "skxawng." she said, hitting your shoulder. "hey!" you said defensively, ready to hit her back until a hand caught yours. you turned around to see one of the new na'vi boys. it was the younger one.

"as amusing it is to see two sisters-" he started

"twins," you and tsireya corrected at the same time. it freaked both boys out, but they thought it was cute in a way.

"as amusing as it is to see twins bickering with one another, i believe a lesson is in our near future? per request of your father, that is." the tone he used was teasing. how could he speak to you with such confidence when he didn't even know your name? rotxo had never spoken to you like that. his words were always soft, almost shy as if he didn't want to scare you with how loud you knew he could be. for some reason, though, it made you like rotxo more.

but with how things have been going well recently, rotxo isn't that soft-spoken boy anymore. hell, he barely acts like your boyfriend now. so maybe it won't be wrong to get to know someone new? only as a friend, though. you would never dream of cheating, let alone act on it.

you looked down to see that the younger brother, whose name you still had yet to find out, was still holding onto your wrist, waiting for an answer.

oh shit, he's waiting on an answer.

you had zoned out, daydreaming about the boy who was gazing at you equally as curious. thankfully you guys had an energetic little girl to catch your attention. "LAST ONE TO THE WATER IS THANATOR BAIT," she said as she jumped into the water.

you and your sister giggled at the young girl's actions, deciding to jump right in after her. the remaining na'vi jumped in as well as you and tsireya swam, guiding them to where you would have this supposed lesson. as you and your twin swam, she explained everything that had happened while you were sleeping using your clan's sign language. it was making more sense now. this family fled their home, seeking a safe place to stay… uturu…

as you had gotten to the rocks by the beach, you noticed that your brother was there, which could only mean one thing. rotxo was here, too, great. you didn't really feel like pretending to be happy with him around people right now, but you slapped on your usual fake smile, praying to eywa that these newcomers were as easy to fool as everyone else on this island.

you had begun your lessons as usual, you and tsireya being paired up with the youngest son as he was having the most difficulty.

"breathe in. breathe from down here," tsireya said as she placed her hand on lo'ak's stomach. you placed your hand on his heart to check its speed as you continued, "breathe out." you sighed again. "lo'ak, your heartbeat is fast," you said, looking up at him, happy that you had learned his name because now you could address him by his name.

"sorry," he said,

"try to focus," tsireya added, his eyes meeting hers as she spoke. you noticed that when his eyes shifted, his expression remained the same bright, curious look he gave you; he also held with your sister.

maybe that's just how he looks at people, you thought as you continued to help him.

you felt eyes on your back, knowing it was rotxo staring at you. you looked over your shoulder and made eye contact with your boyfriend, smiling and waving at him, getting nothing but a stone-cold look in return. nobody seemed to notice, so the embarrassment was yours alone. or so you thought until you turned back to lo'ak, seeing as he had seen the whole interaction between the two of you. nobody had ever noticed something like this happen. you tried to read the forest boy's expression but couldn't. all you knew was that he didn't have that same bright look in his eyes as he looked at rotxo.

so maybe he doesn't look at everyone like that…

the exchange sent a shiver up your back. you had a feeling nothing good would come of these two interacting, but over the months, rotxo had diminished your self-confidence, finding yourself seriously doubting your judgment. so you ignored the feeling, not thinking it would be worth risking the normalcy in your daily life.

with lessons finally ending, you excused yourself from the rest as you walked back to your marui, knowing that your parents were about to beat your ass. you walked into your home with your ears flat against your head, tail between your legs, and head hung in shame.

"y/n te ronal'ite," your mother sneered.

oh yeah. you're fucked.

"father, mother, i am sorry i do not know why i overslept this morning–"

"this is the fifth time this has happened, child. you do not know why you have overslept five times this month?" your mothers' words were harsh; you knew she was very upset with you because of how you had been acting recently. you also knew she didn't like your relationship with rotxo, no matter how nice she thought the boy was. to her, something was just off, she could hear eywa whispering to her about it at night, but when she awoke in the morning, it became nothing but a second thought as all her tsahik duties became a priority as she started her day.

"mother, i am sorry. i do not know why this is happening, but i promise it won't happen again," you said, falling to your knees and begging your parents for forgiveness. you hated when they were upset with you, from when you were a kid until now—especially your father.

you were a daddy's girl; you couldn't help it. your father was your safe haven, and you hated when he was disappointed in you even more than you hated when your mother was mad at you. so when you looked into his eyes and saw concern and not disappointment, you knew something was wrong.

"ma y/n, what is the matter? ite, if something is wrong, you know you can tell me." your father tried.

this was the one thing you couldn't confide in your father for. usually, you have little to no trouble telling your father what's wrong, but this was different. you couldn't bring yourself to tell him. so you just looked up at your father, tears in your eyes, and said

"nothing is wrong, father. i have no excuse for waking up late, so please issue my punishment. i have to finish my chores for the day," hearing your voice so cold sent a shiver up your parents' backs. that was what made them realize there really is something wrong. no matter how much you deny it, they can finally see past the facade that you've been keeping up.

how have they never noticed? how long has this been going on?

ronal looked at her husband, silently asking him for help. for once, the tsahik didn't know what to do. as attuned to eywa as she was, the great mother can't outright tell her what is wrong or how to solve it, thus leaving ronal feeling hopeless.

useless.

a tsahik who can't even help her own child. what good is she?

tonowari cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself.

"two weeks, ilu keeper. you are to bring and return the villager's ilus as well as headcount the north, south, east, and west pens before the eclipse to ensure all ilus are accounted for. you are dismissed," your father's tone was equally as cold as yours. you knew the game he was playing, and you wouldn't fall for it this time. you knew your father was just trying to reciprocate the attitude you were giving him so you would crack. so you quickly left your home, knowing that if you stayed any longer, you would burst into tears and beg your father to hold you in his arms.

your depression had continued for months after the day of the sullys arrival. things with rotxo had only gotten worse, and to you, it seemed like nobody was noticing your depleting health. but in reality, everyone knew you were sad, but nobody knew why.

except for one person

you were so grateful for lo'ak. he was the only person who noticed. he saw everything and sat you down, saying you couldn't endure this abusive relationship anymore. he saw all the scowls and rolled eyes your boyfriend sent your way when you were looking and when you weren't looking. he also saw stuff that you hadn't seen. like rotxo entertaining different girls throughout the village. all of those girls being the ones who you said were your very good friends, but more specifically, it was your best friend.

you and your sully boy were walking along the shore, deciding to go for a walk after he had returned from his daily chores. the walk was silent, but you noticed the furrowed eyebrows above lo'ak's eyes, indicating that he was thinking.

"if you think too hard, you may end up hurting yourself, forest boy," you teased, giggling at his reaction. the boy had rolled his eyes, relieving his eyebrow of their stress as he nudged your side with his elbow. "hey, watch it," he said, laughing along with you.

then he got serious again, you noticed the stress return to his eyebrows, and you couldn't help but stop walking, concerned for your friend.

"lo'ak, what is the matter?" you asked, voice quiet, almost a whisper. lo'ak had barely heard it over the sounds of the tide washing up against the shore. he was silent for a while, debating on if this was his place to say anything, but the boy was worried for you so he spoke up.

"as your friend, y/n, i cannot allow you to continue to be in this relationship." his words were firm. you knew this was coming, and you were hoping you could avoid it, but in the end, it seemed inevitable. you sighed, exhausted, dropping your facade.

"lo'ak, please. don't say anything to anyone. i am fine, okay? rotxo is just busy, is all–"

"yeah, busy suckin' face with your so-called friends, y/n," lo'ak huffed, tired of seeing you endure this treatment. you perked up at his words, though. what was he talking about?

"what do you mean?" you said as you stepped closer, wanting to look deeper into his eyes to ensure he wasn't lying.

"your boy has been cheating on you with all the girls you call your 'friends', especially your best friend. whenever he says he's busy with ao'nung and the guys, neteyam tells me he sneaks off halfway through. and i've personally caught him with so many girls y/n. he's been cheating on you." the words echo in your head.

cheating?

with your friends?

your boyfriend…

your boyfriend.

a new feeling had blossomed in your chest. it felt like a raging fire in your chest, out of control and blazing with heat. oh, you were pissed. so lo'ak hatched a plan for you.

"take this," he said as he reached up to his neck, taking off his communicator and giving it to you. "wear it tomorrow. and right before eclipse, i want you to go to the west ilu pen. but be quiet when you get there. that's usually where rotxo meets your best friend." the words squeezed at your heart, but the fury in your chest overpowered it all.

"fine," you said as your eyes met his once again. you moved your hair behind over your left shoulder as you turned around, signaling for him to put the communicator on for you.

once it was secure, you turned to face him again, knowing that this would be the last moment of peace you would have until the storm you had been so severely trying to avoid.

"thank you," was the last thing you said to the forest boy before you made your way home. knowing the next day would be one of the worst days of your life.

it was a few minutes til eclipse, and you were waiting in a hidden spot near the west ilu pen just like lo'ak had told you. you had been waiting here for 15 minutes, and neither rotxo nor your best friend had shown up. did lo'ak lie? what reason would he have to lie? it's not like he likes you. lo'ak always uses phrases like "as your friend…" and "friends don't treat friends like that," insinuating that he, too, thought of you as a friend and nothing more, so what reason would he have to lie. you were about to radio him, pressing the button on your neck, because you were getting annoyed waiting here for so long. but then you heard a familiar laugh.

that's your best friend's laugh.

you turned around, peeking through leaves to see rotxo and your best friend holding hands, laughing with one another. keeping your hand against your communicator, you tried to get as close as possible without revealing your hiding spot so that lo'ak could hear everything happening.

"are you sure this is okay, rotxo? what about y/n? you know she's my best friend." your best friends laughter had died down as the two came to a halt.

"ma yawne, you need not worry." your boyfriend reassured.

"but what about her? you guys are in a relationship, and she is olo'eyktans daughter. if we get caught, we're done for. plus, she's been looking so sad recently. i can't help but feel like she knows." tears sprung to her eyes and you couldn't help but roll your own.

"mawey, my love. she does not know. besides, she has been ignoring me recently. i've been left alone, wondering if she's okay. i ask her every day to talk to me and tell me something; i reassure her that i'm here for her and that she can talk to me about anything. she brushes me off, not even giving me the time of day. it is like she has completely shut me out. i feel so left in the dark," your best friend just coos at the boy, pulling into a hug in an attempt to 'hug' him when she really is just trying to push her boobs against his chest. his hand placement wasn't any better. he had his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to himself if even possible.

OH, BOO FUCKING HOO, IS HE FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW??

it was taking every molecule of self-restraint in your body not to blow your cover and strangle the man you call your "boyfriend." upon hearing his words, you could only scoff. this is what he's been doing? while he's been ignoring you, leaving you lonely and hurting, he's been out in the village, cheating on you and playing victim, making everyone think you were ignoring him.

you could only roll your eyes as you walked away before you were discovered. you were furious. you knew exactly how you wanted to approach this, thinking based only on your heated emotions, throwing all rational away. as you walked away, your hand fell from the collar around your neck, knowing lo'ak had heard enough. he was probably on the way to your parents' marui right now to tell them everything.

you walked to rotxo's family marui; glad to see the rest of his family is still out doing whatever they do. you could care less. he and anyone related to him could perish, poof into thin air, never to be seen again, and you wouldn't bat an eye. in fact, just the idea of it brings a smile to your face. a smile that instantly dropped when the flap of the marui was pushed aside, revealing your boyfriend and your brother.

"ao'nung, leave. i need to talk to rotxo," you said as soon as you made eye contact with your older brother. you knew he was clueless about what had happened because he was hanging out with his friends all day. supposedly, so was rotxo.

"sorry little sister, but you're going to have to leave. rotxo and i are–"

"AO' GET THE FUCK OUT!" you screamed at your brother, eyes falling to the floor, knowing he wasn't the target of rage, so you probably shouldn't be treating him like this.

your brother was surprised you raised your voice at him but listened anyway, knowing that this wasn't his problem and he honestly didn't care about your relationship as long as rotxo treated you right. and to his knowledge, his best friend is treating you right. rotxo, you told your brother that it was you shutting him out, so ao'nung just assumed this would be another one of those 'irrational arguments' that rotxo always tells him about.

watching your brothers back retreating toward your home, you turned your attention to the man of the fucking hour.

"my best friend? are you serious right now, rotxo?" you asked him to get straight to the point.

rotxo rolled his eyes, groaning because he realized you knew he was cheating on you.

"y/n, don't be like this. my family will be home any minute–" you cut him off.

"i do not care. you are walking around telling people i shut you out? cheating on me? you are out here forcing me to put on a smile, fake happy, so your reputation doesn't get ruined, and you have the nerve to try and bring mine down with you? saying i'm leaving you in the dark. making yourself seem like the goddamn victim?! you're cheating on me, rotxo. FOR FUCKS SAKE." the english word that the sully children had taught you felt like the only word that could adequately convey your feelings.

"using the words that sully boy taught you, huh? you know you've been spending a lot of time with him. you're lucky the only rumor i spread was that you left me in the dark. be grateful that i'm not telling everyone how you've been spreading your legs for that freak." you gaped at his words. how did he know about how much you've been spending with lo'ak? of course, he's completely wrong about what you guys do but he's always busy with his friends, blowing you off, cheating, and not caring who you're with or what you're doing. regardless of how he knew or not, you and lo'ak were friends, and that's it.

"we are just friends. i would not even have to hang out with him if my own shitty boyfriend actually acted as if he fucking likes me. we hang out as all young na'vi do, free diving, ilu racing, sea shell collecting. things i've done with you, my siblings, and countless other friends, like the bitch you are cheating on me with, so why is it a problem when i do it with lo'ak? hmm, rotxo? what's your fucking problem? are you projecting? is that it?" you were blinded by your rage, not even realizing that you had approached your boyfriend, but it felt like your words weren't getting through to him. he still held this shitty condescending smirk on his face, and you were sick of it. so you pushed him with all the strength you had in your body. rotxo fell to the floor pretty hard, groaning in pain as he landed funny on his wrist.

"ah! ha–" rotxo graoned in pain as he gripped his wrist. his gaze met yours as he spoke again "look, she's finally snapped. what? are you going to go, run to your little demon blood? are you going to let him cheer you up like the little slut you are? might as well prepare yourself for tomorrow because when ao'nung asks me what we argued about, i'm telling him i found out you were cheating on me with that sully boy," rotxo stood from his place on the floor, holding a look you had never seen on him before. he walked towards you menacingly as you matched his pace, walking backward until your back made contact with the wall of his home. his hand came up to your neck, squeezing, not noticing that he had once again pressed the button on your collar so lo'ak could hear everything.

“y/n? what's wrong? what's going on?" you heard his voice in your earpiece but kept quiet, not wanting rotxo to know he was about to get caught.

"you're so easy, huh? playing hard to get for everyone in the village when really you just wanted to be a whore for a half-breed freak who has only brought problems and war to our home–" you pushed him off of you, running out his marui with your head down, not wanting him to see your tears as if he hadn't already.

as cruel as rotxo had been to you, he had never called you such degrading names like this.

as angry as you were, hearing someone you once loved say things like that to you felt like a bullet to the heart.

you ran to a hidden oasis within the forest line of awa'atlu. only you and rotxo knew of it, but recently you've found yourself coming here alone much more than you would come here with him.

falling to your knees in front of the river before you, you allowed the dam to break, letting all your pent-up emotions out. you couldn't help but cry to yourself. you hated life like this. you hated living a lie, not wanting to bare this pain anymore. you cried, sobbed, screamed, wailed, anything to get this hurt out of your heart.

rotxo had broken you. he had taken your pure, innocent heart and smashed it to pieces. no matter how much you tried to love and care for him, you realize he would never really love you. it was all just a ploy to get in with the olo'eyktan's daughter. he was just like every other stupid boy on this island. but you fell for him, and you hated the feeling.

and for him to cheat with your best friend, of all people? how could he? did he even love you?

to say lo'ak was worried was the understatement of the fucking year. he was basically having a panic attack rampaging the island after he didn't find you in rotxo's marui when they arrived. lo'ak had come with his family and yours, everyone having heard the cruel words that rotxo had spat at you thanks to lo'aks communication device.

jake and neteyam personally held lo'ak back from killing the metkayina in front of him.

"YOU FUCKER! YOU CALL HER A WHORE WHEN YOU'RE THE ONE STICKING YOUR DICK IN ANYTHING THAT HAS A FUCKING HOLE, YOU PUSSY–"

"lo'ak, that's enough," jake said, trying to restrain his youngest son.

"NO, HE'S RIGHT! DAD, LET ME GO! LET ME BEAT HIS ASS!" lo'ak looked over to see tonowari and another warrior holding ao'nung back, but the look on tonowari's face showed that he was seconds from ripping rotxo limb from limb for what he had said to his daughter.

that's when lo'ak noticed you weren't in the marui. pulling himself from his father and brother's restraints, he ran out, immediately going to all your favorite places on the island, trying to find you.

he searched the shallow reefs on the east side of the island. he visited the ilu pen on the south part of the island because that's where you kept your ilu. he checked the floral shoreline on the northwest part of the island, knowing that you loved getting all your flowers from there, whether it was for your hair, a top, or a gift for the new boy on the island.

lo'ak noticed a forest line near the floral shores, so he also decided to check within that area in case you were wandering around there.

walking through the forest area kind of reminded lo'ak of home. he had been reminiscing on the flora of his home when he heard what sounded like crying—very loud crying.

immediately arming himself, prepared to protect himself or someone else. lo'ak stepped into the clearing, seeing you kneeling over the stream, fists clenched into the ground beneath you as you let out the most heart-twisting cries he had ever heard.

you were crying so loud you hadn't even heard the forest boy approaching you. feeling arms engulfing you, you began to panic. whoever it was immediately tried to soothe your struggles, and much to your surprise, you listened. you felt warmth, security, and comfort. things you never felt around rotxo, at least, not anymore.

"mawey, y/n. mawey. try to match my breathing," it was a familiar voice, but with all the physical and emotional pain clouding your senses, you couldn't pinpoint who it was. regardless, you tried your best to match his breathing, your heavy breaths slowing to quiet sobs and whimpers. it felt like your heart was really breaking. this realization was painful. rotxo didn't love you. he was using you.

you just wanted to be loved, and rotxo made you feel that way for a while. but that was the problem; it only lasted a while. then everything went to shit, and you were left cold and alone while rotxo was out cheating on you and forcing you to fake a smile for everyone around you so that you wouldn't ruin his reputation.

your cries had died down, and you were resting within the hold of the person behind you. his hushed words of comfort hadn't stopped, praising you for controlling your breath as he soothingly rubbed your shoulders. when you calmed down enough, you turned to look at the source of your comfort. it was honestly one of the last people you expected it to be.

you would've thought your brother or sister would find this secret spot before the forest boy did.

"lo'ak, what are you doing here?" you asked him, trying to escape his grasp and wipe your tears at the same time. lo'ak was quick to grab hold of your hands, preventing you from moving away from him.

"mawey, y/n. just relax. i'm here for you, and you can cry all you want to, sevin. i am not going anywhere." his voice was so comforting as he pulled you back into his embrace. you just sighed as you felt another wave of tears coming to your eyes. so you cried it out, relieving every sob, scream, and cry you had ever kept in, and lo'ak stayed with you through it all. never once letting you go and never stopping his whispers of reassurance.

when your sobs died down again, you noticed he intertwined his fingers with yours. you hadn't noticed his hands before. you weren't aware, but your ears perked up a bit, and your tail started to rev to life a bit when you saw he had five fingers instead of four. you wordlessly detangled your hand from his, causing the boy's ears to fall flat to his head.

you noticed his hands. did you see him differently now? his thoughts started as a drizzle quickly forming into a hurricane, but when he felt both of your hands grab one of his pulling it closer to your swollen eyes so you could examine it better, he chuckled. he thought it was cute, seeing you fiddle with his fingers as your soft sniffles continued. if this was distraction enough to keep you from crying, then lo'ak would let you play with his hands 24/7.

you didn't know that lo'ak's hands were his biggest insecurity, so the way you played with them and looked at them with wonder and not worry made his heart swell. lo'ak had not thought his life would be turned upside down like this, being forced to move away from his home and learn new ways of life. he hated it. but willingly getting to know someone and maybe even starting to fall for her had to be the best thing on that list. lo'ak knew he liked you for a while but never made any advances as you were taken. even though he could've been treating you so much better.

he loved how your hands felt in his and how your smile brightened up an entire room. he loved how attuned to nature you were. you hadn't even realized the school of fish swimming around your ankles rested in the river before you. it was as if the animals were trying to comfort you, too, somehow being able to sense your distress.

“y/n. do not listen to him. he is nothing but a lowlife who derives pleasure from others' pain," lo'ak started ranting, not caring if you were listening. he just wanted to speak his mind. "you are beautiful, y/n. the most beautiful, strong, loving, kind, graceful na'vi i've ever had the chance to meet. if moving away from my home means i get to find a new home here, with you, i would fly, walk, jump, or crawl my way here a hundred times over. i would do anything to be with you properly. i want to heal you from that asshole's mistakes. i want to show you what it feels like to be loved. not because you are olo'eyktan's daughter. but because you are you."

his eyes remained focused on yours as he recited every word. but you could tell he wasn't speaking something memorized or forced; he was speaking from his heart. you could hear it, as if eywa herself was whispering it to you. but you were hurt. could you trust someone so soon?

almost as if he could read your thoughts, he spoke up again.

"i know your trust is weary right now, but let me prove it to you. i will court you properly, meet your parents officially, ask for their blessing, i–" lo'ak sighed, almost as if he didn't want to continue, but he did. "i'll even stop fighting with ao'nung." that got a laugh out of you.

"lo'ak, are you sure about that?" you asked, looking up at him through your tears, flashing the first genuine smile he had ever seen on you. he was amazed. if he thought your fake smile lit up a room, then your genuine smile could bring light to an entire clan.

"i would do whatever you want me to do, syulang. i just want to be with you. i want to love you if you'll have me. we can take things at your pace. i'm in no rush because, for you, i would wait forever," he yearned for you, waiting patiently to see if you'll accept him.

you couldn't find any reason not to. this boy had to have been sent to you by eywa. he was meant to be the remedy to heal your heart after this tragic breakup. you were crying, but they were tears of joy and relief. you were finally free. free to feel love. free to feel happy. free to be you.

in the heat of the moment, you felt something wiggling under the ground beneath your leg. looking down, you see a glow worm inching up your leg. most do not know, but since the metkayina spirit tree is underwater, these little glow worms come up from the sand or appear on or around you whenever eywa tries to give you a sign. they're the metkayina equivalent of a woodsprite.

you could only gasp at the sight of the tiny creature. so he really is eywa sent? you thought as you saw a glow worm crawling up lo'ak's shoulder. this caused you to laugh, seeing as he also noticed the glow worm on his shoulder and started to panic, trying to flick the bug off his shoulder without hurting it.

"kehe, don't do that," you said as you grabbed his hand to prevent him from hurting the poor thing. you carefully placed your hand in front of the glowworm, allowing it to crawl into your palm. you took lo'ak's hand in yours, facing his palm up to allow the glow worm to walk from your hand to his.

"what is this?" he asked as he brought his hand closer to his face turning it as the glow worm walked around.

"i've heard about omatikaya woodsprites from kiri. they are like that but for the reefs. they are sent from eywa, meant to be wordless messengers," you explained to the forest boy.

your forest boy.

lo'ak couldn't help but smile at you, processing the words you had said. as he spoke again, he held nothing but love in his eyes, "y/n, i see you. oel ngati kameie," he gently held your face in his hands to ensure you made eye contact with him as he said it to you. you cried even harder because rotxo had never said that to you. and you're glad he didn't because you wouldn't have been able to say this back,

"oel ngati kameie, forest boy."

[mysticalsoot]

you changed, it's good

A/N; soooo ive kinda been in a writing slump so take this fic thats been building dust in my docs- also tysm for 300!! hopefully ill come up w smth for it lol- I have no clue how to process that information omf

summary; months after wilbur's revival and his reunion with you and the daughter you share (that he didn't know about), you let out pent emotions and have a heartfelt talk with wilbur

tw// swearing, not lore accurate, im a wilbur apologist shush, children, suicidal mentions maybe? lmk if i missed anything

words; 1.8k

pairings; c!wilbur x gn!reader (they're parents), revivedbur x gn!reader

pronouns; none!

masterlist

—★—

The time since Wilbur’s death and revival may not have been that long, but for you, it felt like ages--you had a child now, his, yes but you’ve begun another life. A life with a little girl, a life without him. But now, he was here and he was trying. You appreciated it but god did you fear it too. The memories taunted you, the hurt and the aching that still lingered, haunted you. He haunted you.

Your head is rested upon Wilbur's chest, and the thumping of his heart echoes in your mind. His left arm wraps around your shoulder and your own arms around his middle. Your daughter, Willow lays against his other side, curled into a ball, and his other arm held tightly around her in comforting warmth. This moment is what you imagined life to be all those years, before everything…happened.

You seemed to always subconsciously wish for moments like these, at least, in the past few years. One’s where Willa has a parent other than yourself, someone else to hold her, and someone to hold you too. Domestic bliss, calm and serene. No wars or bombs, no screaming, and yelling. Simply the sound of your partner's heart and the sight of him holding your child. It's a reassurance of sorts, a silent "everything will be okay, even if it wasn't before". 

Things used to be so not okay that having this calmness is nice. Having his arms around you again is lovely, being able to kiss him and hold him, to watch him help raise your daughter, to play with her and hold her. Tickle her and carry her on his shoulders, hold her hand with his, and walk with her on the prime path. To teach her how to ride a horse, after bringing one home for her, and helping her name him.

"Wilbur?" You whisper to him, moving your head back, your gaze locked upwards on him. He looks down at you, a soft smile written on his features, and he tilts his head to the side.

"Yes, my love?" he leans down, leaving a soft kiss to your lips and you smile through it, the warmth in your stomach swelling the same way it did when you both were younger. You take a moment to admire him, the way his curls fall in his face, how his glasses are always crooked and now are no different, and how the small freckles he adorns sprinkle his cheeks. Everything about him is beautiful, and so it brings you back to what you wanted to say. What you need to say, what is right to say.

"What happened? After lmanburg? You were so…" Your mind goes blank for a word to properly describe it, without hurting him. Cruel, evil, manipulative, the list goes on. It's odd to you, how someone could become so horrible and then return to a better version of their old self in a matter of years. "Horrible, then. To everyone, to yourself."

His face falls, and so does your heart, falling to the deep pits of your stomach. You can feel the life drain from your face and it hurts. You feel an immense dread, and wonder if you hadn’t mentioned it, how you would feel. It's a difficult subject for him but at this point, you think it had to be brought up. How can one accept this happy domestic life without knowing the full truth?

"I got lost, I think. Lost in the greed I suppose." He pauses, dips his head down to press his forehead against yours. His eyes close and he takes a breath, his arm letting go of Willa and placing his hand on your cheek, fingers gently brushing the skin and his eyes hold a warm sadness to them, "I wanted the joy still, the happiness for our future. But it got pushed back. I was blinded. There's a lot I don't remember. I mean I remember pieces here and there. Bribes from dream, desperate attempts to make things work for everyone and everything."

"And then what? You realized hurting us was better?" You’re hostile now, something switching or rather, breaking in your heart. You know you shouldn't react this way, get defensive--but a piece of you is still painfully angry and hateful, filled to the brim with spite and it’s accidentally let through the cracks. You back up a moment, his touch leaving you, hand falling to his side, head still dipped down.

"I realized I couldn't make it perfect for everyone, there were sacrifices I had to make." He takes another deep breath, wraps his arms around Willow again, she doesn't move. "And I made the wrong ones, I know that. I see that." Wil looks down at the lump that his daughter forms, a little ball of a girl. She moves to grab onto his arm in her sleep and she hums, a soft smile adorns his lips.

You feel you should be satisfied with his answers, and half of you is, but you still wonder; "Why? Why did you do it?"

His gaze lets its grip off of Willow, walks up and he looks to you, pupils big and somber, bloodshot and wet. "To not hurt anyone anymore. It was for the best." 

You want to scream at him now, tell him how much of an idiot he is. Screams that are bloodcurdling, one’s that most definitely would wake up Willa and anyone surrounding the area. That no, killing yourself in fact does not stop the hurt, it only fuels it, like a spark to dead grass. He made Phil kill him, he made you watch as he destroyed his livelihood, your shared livelihood, watch as he's stabbed to death by his own goddamn father. It was never ending with him, it was always something new, something bigger, more painful than before. You want to storm away, back off, and not let him near you for a split second, it's all an overreaction, you tell yourself but you simply can't help it.

You stare at him for a moment, your expression blank and emotionless. Willow turns onto her back, eyes open slightly and her arms reach up to Wil. "Hey, daddy." She mumbles out, a smile of her own sculpted onto her features. Wil smiles back.

"Hello, my love. Are you ready for bed?" He asks, lifting her up by her sides and gently sitting her on his lap. She nods sluggishly, and she rests herself against him, chest to chest, head on shoulder, and tiny arms wrapped around his neck. "Let's get you into bed then, sweetie."

You just watch, your eyes follow him as he walks out of the living room, into the kitchen, and down the stairs. You sit there, alone now. Thoughts cycle through your mind. All the things you had wished for, every thought that graced your consciousness, every question unanswered for years. You missed him, you really truly did. But you aren’t sure who you missed more, and is the one you missed, the one you lie with at night? The one that wraps his arms around you in the morning, leaves a sloppy kiss on your cheek, and brushes the hair out of your face. The man that waits there, holding you, until Willow comes rushing in the room to ‘wake’ you both up. The same man that shushes you lovingly and says "Pretend you're asleep, love," the moment he hears her bedroom door open, so she can have the satisfaction of waking you both.

You now rest your head on the back of the couch, your gaze focused on the window on the opposite side of the room. Snow gently falls past it, frost taken over the glass. The fire crackles and warms you like a hug. 

What feels like moments later, even warmer arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to the body they're attached to. "Wil?" You call out, your voice coming out gravelly, and you realize you must've fallen asleep.

"Hey.." It comes out weak, the word feels broken and sounds broken. "I'm sorry, for all the shitty things I've done. I know my reasoning isn't nor has it ever been valid. But I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere, and I don't have any plans of mass terrorism." His voice becomes clearer, breaks up less and he dips his head down again, pressing his cheek against yours. You nearly open your eyes, but keep them closed, and revel in the feeling of him more. 

"I know." You pause, and let your own arms wrap around him, but instead of his middle like he has you held--you wrap your arms around his neck, your hands weaving into his mop of curls. "I think part of me still hurts, it's stupid I guess." You rest your head on his shoulder, and he pulls you closer, your legs now wrapped around him too.

"It's not, I hurt you. I take accountability for that and I hate that I even did it in the first place." His voice cracks again, and you know he means it. You pull back, your hands pressed against his cheeks and he looks up at you.

You hesitate, mulling over the words falling off his lips, his expression knotted in anxiety. Your thumbs run over his pink-tinted cheeks and you kiss his forehead.

"If you were that same person, you wouldn't say that." You take a breath, "I think you've changed. In a good way."

He sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around you. "I hope I have."

“I know you have,” You pause, grasping his face in your hands and getting him to pull back simply so he can gaze at you.

“How?” His voice is merely a croaked-out mumble but it’s enough that you hear it loud and clear.

“Would you be here, in my arms, after putting our daughter to bed if you hadn't changed?" You paused, eyes gazing deeply into his and searching for any doubt to crush with your words, "Would you even search for us if you were that same man? For good, not to hurt us."

He shakes his head, "I changed, didn't I?"

"In the best way possible." A soft kiss placed on his lips, one of love and devotion. A simple peck speaking every word and emotion you've ever felt--but only the good.

He smiles against the kiss, grasping at your sides and pulling you closer and closer to him. You were already so close, practically one, but he felt the need to pull you so much closer that not only were your bodies one, but so were your souls.

He pulls away from the kiss, hands resting on your face, "I love you," he nuzzles his nose against yours and you giggle, twisting your fingers into the curls on the back of his head, "so much." The last bit is whispered, like a quiet promise. A promise of devotion and loyalty. Something you're glad to finally have. 

There's nothing in the way of him being with you. With your daughter.

"I love you more," You smile to him softly, a kiss placed on his forehead, and you push stray curls out of his face as he nuzzles his head against your chest.

taglist; @ella-fella-bo-bella @lillylvjy @sleepyburs @lotusanonymouse @lcvejoy

[skyward-floored]

Leaves

Another Incredibles au fic... sort of a little character study? I suppose it could be that. I just started writing the other day and this came out, so it’s not much, but I figured it would be a shame not to post it. Maybe someone will like it.

Set when Sky and Warriors are preteens, and Time is a fairly-young adult. Little warning for implied past character death.

————————————————————

Warriors walked slowly along the path he was following, his scarf trailing behind him as late afternoon light filtered past. It had been a bit of a detour to head here instead of straight home after school, and his legs were growing tired, but he’d been needing to come here for weeks, and finally had the time to today.

Warriors didn’t stop until the path curved, and he found himself at a tree with fan-shaped leaves that had begun to spread themselves across the ground.

There was a stone beneath it’s branches, and Warriors knelt beside it, gently brushing off the yellow leaves that had fallen on top. His hands brushed the letters carved into the stone, and he leaned back, smiling a little.

“Hey, Mom.”

A few moments of silence ticked by, and his smile faded, Warriors folding his hands in his lap as he exhaled.

“Um... I know I haven’t visited in a while, I’m sorry. Things have been kind of crazy lately. Time got in some trouble, and it was... a lot of stuff happened.”

He cleared his throat, and adjusted his scarf, shaking off the little flakes of ice that had begun to form on his fingers.

“We’re all doing okay now, though,” he continued, watching a leaf fall. “Time’s still kinda worried about me and Sky, even though we keep telling him we’re fine. He’s been sort of... clingy. But even though he’s been clingy, we finally convinced him to let us go out with him, so that’s been pretty great. We’ve already stopped some villains.

“Um... oh right, he hasn’t yet, but Time is totally going to propose soon. When he isn’t worrying over me and Sky, he’s acting almost giddy, it’s been so weird. He’s been so weird lately.”

Warriors huffed out a little laugh, then looked at the stone again, his smile slipping away.

“He really loves Malon. And I think you’d love her too Mom. I... wish you could meet her. We all do.”

He breathed out slowly, scratching his arm.

“I guess that’s pretty much it. I’m doing fine, in case you were wondering. Mostly just training with my powers. I figured out I can do really sharp icicle things if I focus really hard, so I’ve been trying to get better at that. I’ve also been working on making little stuff out of ice, but that’s not super useful...”

Warriors trailed off as a few leaves fluttered down around him, a weight much heavier than leaves weighing on his chest.

He closed his eyes.

“I miss you Mom. I... hope you’re proud of me. I’m trying.”

A leaf landed on Warriors’ head then, and he picked it up, running a thumb along it’s veins.

After a moment he raised his head, and let go of the leaf, conjuring some ice in his hands. He focused for several minutes, tongue slightly sticking out as he molded the ice in his hold, and slowly a flower appeared in his hands, made of pure ice. It was a little crude, and lacked the detail that Warriors would have preferred, but it would have to be good enough.

“I’ll come visit again soon,” he promised quietly, setting the flower at the base of the stone. “I have to go now though, or Time and Sky’ll worry. Even though I’ll be fine, and have powers to defend me, but you know. Time especially doesn’t need more stress.”

Warriors leaned back as a gust of wind blew some leaves past the stone in front of him, and he gently thumbed over the words again.

Then he breathed out, and got to his feet, noting that the late afternoon had trickled into evening while he’d been sitting. The leaves of the tree looked more orange now then yellow, and he tucked one in his pocket as it drifted by.

“I love you Mom. I’ll see you later.”

Warriors looked at the stone one more time, then gave a tiny smile, turning away and walking back down the path he’d come up.

A thin dusting of frost trailed behind him on the grass.

[romancingromanoff]

Second Death

Andromache the Scythian x f!reader

I decided to create a series for Andromache (my beloved). Here’s part 1, part 2, and part 3

Summary: Your first mission does not go according to plan

TW: Violence, major character death, somewhat descriptive gore, getting shot in the face, head explosions (kinda), ANGST

Words: around 3,000

A/N: Aside from being very difficult for me to write, this is probably the darkest I've ever gotten in terms of physical violence. So, uh, Happy Halloween I guess?

The plan was based off Buenos Aires 1822 (not 1922 as you had incorrectly assumed at first) which was a reference you obviously didn’t understand but was being explained to you in the most hectic way possible.

“Wait, so Nicky was decapitated-”

“Half decapitated. I didn’t actually die!”

“But you were quite light-headed for the rest of the day, my dear.” Joe feigned concern, brushing the back of his hand across his partner’s forehead and smiling like a fool.

Your leader was having none of it.

“Can we be serious please?” Immediately, the entire group’s focus shifted back to the Scythian. She certainly wasn’t going to admit it but she was apprehensive with this being your first mission. For months, you’d been doing nothing but training and begging her to let you in on the action until she was finally forced to give in. The instinct to keep you safe gnawed at Andy while it became increasingly difficult to ignore how your desire to prove your worth would only continue to grow. She recognized the same frustrations in a much younger version of herself and remembered how reckless it drove her to be.

“I’d rather we didn’t repeat that portion this time, agreed?”

You all nodded.

They laid out all the details about the traffickers and the group of people you were meant to rescue. It was an estimated 25-40 women and older girls being smuggled through for undoubtedly unpleasant purposes Andy didn’t get too detailed with. She, Joe, and Nico planned to storm the ship when it completely docked and most of the crew was on land retrieving supplies and weapons. That would leave only a few guards standing between them and the captives, who were most likely being held somewhere below deck. Once they find them, you and Booker would bring in the truck to help get everyone out. It sounded simple enough, but the fact that it was meant to go off without a hitch somehow doubled the amount of pressure you were applying to yourself. They had all done this at least once before, so if things went south then it was all because of you.

A few hours passed and you sat next to Booker in the passenger seat of the truck parked a couple of meters away from the ship and near a loading dock. With the engine off it was starting to get increasingly cold, but you didn’t even mind the chill at that point. You needed to be as alert as possible for what was to come.

Booker clearly sensed your apprehension. “It’s okay to be nervous, we’re not going to let anything bad happen to you.” He kept his voice low and his eyes glued on the dock entrance while you tried to do the same. 

Your mind was wrapped up in much bigger concerns. “I’m not worried about that. What if something goes wrong because of me? If I get hurt then so be it, I just don’t want to endanger anyone else when their lives and freedom are at stake.”

“You’ll be fine. Trust your training and lean on your team if you need help. That’s what we’re here for.” He offered you an encouraging smile that you attempted to return the best you could, yet you also wished he wouldn’t look at you with so much sympathy all of the time. As much as you appreciated everything they had done for you, you longed to show the others that you were capable of carrying your own weight and didn’t need someone to hold your hand constantly.

The two of you settled into a silence that was occasionally filled with a comment or two about nothing in particular. It didn’t do much to settle your nerves. You watched as dozens of muscular men left in packs, each one armed with at least a pistol that Booker taught you how to spot. He translated some of the French he could hear them speaking, which was mostly crude, misogynistic banter that made your jaw clench up.

“Good to know that men are pigs in basically all cultures,” you murmured mostly to yourself and tried to get your jaw to relax. Surprisingly, it earned you a gratifying laugh from the Frenchman and you were relieved when he didn’t take your comment too personally. 

“For the most part, I don’t disagree.”

“How will Andy and the others know when all of them have left?” You changed the subject upon the realization that the rest of the guard was hidden somewhere no one would see them, not even you. It was still difficult to imagine they had a better scouting position than the near-direct view you did.

“Don’t worry, they’ll know,” Booker assured you in a slightly amused tone. Some secrets were still too complicated for you to know about yet, you supposed.

Almost a half hour later, three heads eventually peered up through the shadows and Andy, Joe, and Nico lifted themselves up onto the ship. Perfectly lit by hues of the full moon, they danced towards their destination, the sheer coordination and skill reminding you of just how experienced they were. With Andy leading the pack, they silently began making their way up the vessel as a single unit. No words or other body gestures needed to be shared when they occupied the same hive mind. The group only came to a stop when they reached a door and huddled around it, trying to listen for anyone that might be on the other side. When you assumed everything was clear, Andy swiftly kicked it open and entered with her gun aimed and ready. 

Not even a minute after all three filed in, the sound of a gunshot suddenly shook you. You immediately turned to Booker, whose face gave away the slightest look of concern at the noise. This must not have happened in Buenos Aires. No more gunshots followed, thank goodness, but there were sounds of a struggle going on below deck which had the two of you on high alert. You prayed that nobody else close by could hear the commotion.

Things began to steer away from the original plan when Joe emerged from below far before he should have, struggling to keep another figure under control as he held their arms in a twisted position behind their back while continuing to firmly push them forward. Even in the dark, you could just make out how young the kid appeared to be. He couldn’t have been older than 16 and you assumed his reason for being on the ship was because he had an older relative in the crew. You relaxed when you realized that meant how unlikely it was that he’d be trained in how to fight. Joe would definitely keep from harming him unless he absolutely had to. Stupidly, you also forgot about how reckless young boys can be.

Everything fell apart in a mere matter of seconds. As he appeared to calm down, Joe eased up on the grip he held the boy with and he it didn’t seem like he would move at first. But in an instant, the scraggly kid darted from his grasp and sprinted around a corner and out of your line of sight to the completely opposite side of the ship. Booker reached for the door handle as a precaution while the rest of his body remained seated. A bead of sweat rolled down your neck despite the chill in the air and the gradual understanding that Book might be preparing to leave you on your own stilled your body completely. All of the careful planning you had fought to carefully commit to memory melted into mush.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched whistle that rang through the air and your eyes quickly followed a bright red light travel up into the sky before it burst into a large display of lights and smoke. Time seemed to slow down and your heart sped up. Of course, if there wasn’t going to be another pistol going off, it had to be a goddamn flare gun. Yelling, alarmed Frenchmen could then be heard scrambling towards the dock and Booker cursed under his breath.

“Stay here, I’ll go help the others!” Booker leaped out of the vehicle, throwing the keys which hit your petrified figure. Part of you wanted to speak up and stop him but you could only squeak out an indecipherable sound of concern seconds after he was gone. Looking back at the ship, you caught sight of Nico peeking his head out from the door they entered through. He exited with a determined look on his face and was followed by a line of women. You itched at your sweating palms when twenty women or so had piled out and there was still no sign of Andy. 

The men hurrying in from the opposite direction quickly diverted your attention. Squinting your eyes, you were able to spot a figure in the distance headed straight towards your vehicle. You nearly panicked but caught yourself, uncertain if you were dealing with the traffickers or possibly random dock workers that had been alarmed by the flare and merely wanted to check out the situation. Either way, you decided it was still too risky to start up the engine just yet. At least, you told yourself the others probably wouldn’t want you to give away your position.

That’s when you noticed a faint movement in your side mirror. A tuft of matted blonde curls belonging to a distressed woman’s face peeked over the top of one of the crates not to far behind you. She must’ve spotted something concerning, because her eyes went wider than a trapped mouse’s and she disappeared back down, ultimately causing the crates to shake. You ground your back teeth together and prayed it was only you who had seen her. But then right on cue, the blinding glow of a flashlight landed directly over the area where the woman was hiding. The man you had spotted only moments before, his flashlight lit up a devious grin on his face that urged you to hold in your breath. He even sounded like the devil when he spoke. It didn’t take a high level French skills to tell that he began goading the poor woman like it was some sadistic game to him. 

He approached the crates ever so slowly, savoring the anticipation which laid before whatever unspeakable plans he had for his victim. It then occurred to you that she was most likely paralyzed with the same fear that had struck you.

And yet, she was the one currently being hunted while you were poised to sit and watch it unfold. You, protected by both your position and inexplicable gift of immortality. None of it seemed remotely fair and your body began to stir at the simple thought.

“Under no circumstances should you be engaging in combat,” Andy had firmly laid down the law several times leading up to this day. You’d never wanted to disobey anything she said so passionately before and here it felt like you scarcely had no other option but to go against something she forbade. 

The adrenaline rushing through your veins threw your body into action before you could debate any further. Barely aware of the forces taking hold of you, you tumbled out of the door and landed directly behind the attacker who continued to stalk forward towards the woman’s hiding place. He slowly began to raise his gun, something with barrels much longer than your forearms, and it was like you didn’t have the time to properly assess whatever danger lie at the other end. You just didn’t want it pointing at her.

Without a hint of hesitation, you drove foot into the back of the man’s left knee and he immediately crumbled down to about a third of his height. You were ready for him with your knife once his face spun around and an overpowering sense of rage guided your arm to make a clean cut from just below his right eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose, and finally through the center of his left eye. 

Something solid and heavy smacked the front of your head and you could hear the woman behind you scream in horror before everything went black.

Horrific violence was nothing if not a sheer constant to Andy. She had both experienced and caused enough to fill the oceans with blood, yet nothing made her seethe with rage more than watching yours spill from your head like a geyser. A thousand lifetimes stained with death could not have prepared her for the sight of your limp body hitting the ground, to which there was no question as to whether or not you were dead. Even if you had been wearing some type of protective head gear, a shotgun firing within five inches of your face would have been fatal. 

She was usually a pro at keeping her emotions under control until the mission was completed and never steered away from the plan without first calculating the absolute best course of action. The other teammates she had and the terrified group of women she was meant to protect called upon her to uphold her position as the leader, a task she had shouldered over a million times before despite whatever her personal feelings demanded. Absolutely none of that mattered now. Getting to you, killing that bastard, and wrapping you up in your arms became the only course of action she was capable of taking. 

Her first priority was taking out the son of a bitch that dared to touch you before anyone else got hurt. She handed off the little girl she had been carrying to Nico before barreling over a crate and launching herself over the side of the ship, rolling smoothly to break her fall when she hit the the dock. 

Despite how fast she ran, she seemed to move at a cursedly slow pace. She was still too quick for the man, his blood leaking from the fresh gash you had tore across his face, to notice her. He didn’t even get a chance to run before the warrior drove her labrys straight into the already-open wound. Andy could only revel in the brief taste of satisfaction for a moment before her emotions began swarming once again, the anger she had held for that man was now aimed solely at herself.

“Booker, get her into the back!” She barked at the Frenchman to take care of the hostage still hiding while rushing over to where your body collapsed. Up close, the sight was even more gruesome as blood, flesh, and bone were splattered all across what used to be your face. It would have been generous to call what was left of everything above your neck a simple stump. She knew she needed to get you out of there fast but hated to leave behind any parts of your head that might have been salvageable. Even saving something like an ear or significant chunk of your skull could aid in speeding up the healing process. She knew it would be excruciatingly painful for you to grow back yourself. 

She desperately grabbed at fistful of what she hoped was your brain before scooping you up in her arms. It was the fact that you were so much lighter than usual which made her wince, though she couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved when it meant it allowed her to run faster on her feet. Cautious yet quick, Andy made a beeline for the passenger’s seat of the truck and cradled your body in her arms while you continued to bleed out. It wasn’t a sight she wanted any of the hostages to witness and it’s not like she was letting go of you anytime soon anyway. 

“Drive!” One word was all she needed to command whomever was at the steering wheel to get out of there as fast as possible. It didn’t even occur to her to look up and check to see who she was sitting next to, as she immediately began trying to pick up any movement in your chest or a sign of a pulse in your wrist, anything that indicated the resurrection process was in motion.

“Please, please, come back to me,” she pleaded as your warm blood began to pool across her lap.

“Give her a second.” She realized it was Booker currently driving. “It’s only her second time and will probably take longer than expected.”

The women they had freed were now crammed together once again, only this time being in the back of a dark loading truck as it sped through the dead of night was probably far more merciful than them being forced to witness the transformation you were currently undergoing. Andy, however, couldn’t tear a single string of her attention away from you throughout the entire process. 

Each noise you made followed by the eventual cries of her name from your lips, once your mouth and airways had completely reformed, tore at Andromache deeper and deeper, in ways that no physical pain she had ever endured could compare. She bit down on her tongue till it was bloody as you repetitively squeezed her hand throughout the entire process. The same ones you often used to delicately recreate precious moments on paper broke more than a few of her bones. But Andy barely noticed and didn’t have the capacity to care. All she was focused on was you.

For the first time in centuries, the Scythian invoked the words of an ancient prayer and resurrected a long dead language as she tried to soothe your pain. She stopped believing in a higher power a long time ago but couldn’t shake the truth that repeating those words made her feel anchored to something even larger than her life or her immortality. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t try if it might possibly bring you a sense of comfort, which she actually prayed may happen. 

[shuniverse]

pick me up ,,| l.f

a/n: i’m doing these in a different font style now lol. but i wrote this on the spot because i’m just so done with life rn. i’m not going through personal internal issues, but needless to say this drabble will kinda sum things up. also this is written in lowercase on purpose, just btw

1.1k words

involves felix because he’s one of my biggest comforts next to channie.

the basic gist is of parents fighting and reader having to leave because of it, but it doesn’t explicitly show what they’re saying, so no descriptions of abusive language.

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

you can’t do it anymore. the constant yelling, the fighting. you wish you had enough money to leave, but seeing as you’re job only pays so much and your parents seem to want you to stay, you’re stuck.

you’re in your room, blankets tucked over your head trying to drown them out as you at least attempt sleep, but it doesn’t work. the banging, the clattering, the constant berating and degrading and just pure hatred seeming to spew out of your parents mouths is too much.

you don’t know what else to do, so you call your boyfriend, seeing as it’s your only option. you pull out your phone, the brightness of your lock screen blinding you momentarily in the dark cocoon of your blankets. once your eyes have adjusted, you unlock your phone and head right to his number.

you: lixie come get me please

lix ❤️🍪: ok honey! what’s wrong? is it happening again?

you can’t bring yourself to answer at first, tears pricking again at your already puffy eyes.

you: yes pls come get me i can’t do this anymore

he sends two thumbs up emojis, and one little heart, attempting at trying to be gentle, which he always is. felix is someone you never thought you’d have, but you’re sure as hell not letting him go.

about 10 minutes later, there’s a text on your screen.

lix ❤️🍪: I’m here baby. take your time, I’m in no rush, I love you

you smile at his text, and send just a heart emoji. he doesn’t press for more of a response.

your tugging on your converse, the ones your mom bought you. they’re dirty, but functionable. you tie the laces loosely, tugging on your (felix’s) hoodie, grab your phone and bbokari plush and leave quietly out of your room. your parents are in the kitchen, and you shrink down while they’re shouting, not even noticing you leave. you sneak out the front door, and jog the small distance to felix’s car.

as you get in, you’re greeted by felix in all his beautiful glory in the drivers seat, looking to be disheveled and anxious. as soon as he sees you and your in your seat and shut the door, he grabs you and brings you in for a comforting, yet very snug, hug, breathing shakily into your hair.

“are you okay? are you hurt?” he pulls away, inspecting your features, his face softening just a bit as he sees the hoodie and plush sticking out of the hood haphazardly. sighing and brushing your hair back, he plants a gentle kiss against your forehead.

you shake your head at his question, and rest your head on his shoulder, tears in dry streaks down your face, your eyes red still. “no, they never touch me when they get like this.” you look up at him, and hold one of his ringed hands. “thank you, lixie.”

he smiles warmly, kissing your cheek. “any time, sweetheart.” his deep, soothing voice comforts you, and you snuggle against his shoulder

“can we go now? i don’t-“

before you can finish your sentence, felix is driving off. he intertwines his fingers with yours, kissing the back of your hand. “let’s head home, yeah?”

you smile. you’ve gotten used to calling felix’s apartment your home, it’s comforting. better than your actually home, where every other night it seems like you’re woken up by yelling.

after 10 minutes of comfortable silence, you’re walking up with felix to his apartment.

you don’t even expect a “come home” text from one of your parents tonight. if they haven’t noticed you leaving, they certainly won’t notice that you’re gone.

sitting on his couch, you’re watching on of your favorite comfort movies, an old Disney movie from when you were young. snuggled up against your boyfriend, you feel a surprising buzz of your phone. you reach for it, and pull it out to see, surprisingly, a “come home. please.” not from your mom, nor your dad. no, it’s from your brother. he never texts you.

you sigh, replying with:

you: im sorry, im at felix’s. you can call your girlfriend to get you?

the question is genuine, and he replies back almost immediately.

brother boy: I’ve tried but she won’t respond. they’re getting louder. can you help me?

you: I can ask one of the boys? I know you’re close to some of them. want me to call jeongin?

brother boy: sure. that works. just anything to get my out of this shit hole

you look at felix, who’s been gazing at you with a curious look in his beautiful brown eyes. “what’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“my brother needs to leave too. can you call innie?”

he nods immediately, grabbing his phone and calling jeongin.

they’re talking, and in a little less than a minute he’s ended the call. “innie’s on his way. good thing him and your brother are friends, huh?”

you nod, a small smile on your face before you look back at your phone for a second. the screen is notification free.

you open your messages and shoot your brother a text.

you: hey, jeongin’s coming to get you. he’ll be there quick, don’t worry okay?

brother boy: okay- oh, I think I see his car on the other side of the street. I’ll climb out the window.

you: no! just go out the door, I went out the back door. they didn’t even notice, you’ll be okay.

brother boy: ok. thank you

you: no problem. have fun with jeongin

he sends a thumbs up. you look up at felix, and kiss his jaw, making him smile. “thank you for helping me, lixie.”

he nods, kissing your forehead. “the least I could do, baby.”

you yawn, and he gently rubs your shoulder before scooting down a bit to lay you both down on the couch, and he pulls a soft blanket over top of you. he snuggles bbokari in your free arm, on the open side of the couch. “let’s get some rest, yeah?”

you nod sleepily against his chest, snuggling into it.

he kisses your head. “I love you, sleep good baby.”

you mumble something, and felix giggles, before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close as you both drift off to sleep.

you wish you didn’t have to run to him every time your parents fought, but you’re glad he’s there anyways. you’re parents fighting is shoved to the back of your head as you fall asleep, but you know you’ll have to talk to them tomorrow.

but tomorrow is the last thing in your mind.

——————————————————————————

hope you guys enjoyed!

please know that if you guys are dealing with things like this, and it’s getting bad, please don’t be afraid to tell somebody. this is a serious thing. my parents aren’t exactly innocent in this department, and I hate to have to hear it, and I don’t want the same for any of my readers or any others living with their parents.

this was a way for me to express my emotions through writing, involving someone who brings me much comfort. call it a coping mechanism, if you will. I hope people who are struggling can find a happy coping mechanism as well, and I wish you all the best <3

stay safe!

[vnmpior]

SHE'S NOT THE ☆ ONE

LEON ☆ KENNEDY (re4)

x reader

summary: something's been on your mind, and you can't concentrate on shooting. it might be the attractive man holding your hands steady , but maybe its the thoughts of the girl always in red he's been pining and dreaming about. . .

note: after we got new clips of leon for the re4make I have been salivating over him and my obsession with him is back so much stronger so I had to make this. this is kinda practice for me writing re4 leon. also I hate this fic tyvm its not my best smh

this is a lil test of me tryna write re4 leon so sry if its dogshit. pls pretend chris and leon knew eachother before re6

"something on your mind?" you shivered as leon's breath brushed against your neck.

"nothing. it's just it might be easier for me to concentrate if it wasn't for you bothering me," you joked, gripping the handle of the gun tightly.

leon let out a chuckle and you could feel him give you some space.

"I know me being behind you isn't what's bothering you."

you shrugged. you didn't exactly know why you were so mad anyways.

"maybe it's how much I can't aim."

"isn't that why i'm here?" he questioned, stepping into your field of view.

"obviously. I would never hang out with you for fun." you scoffed jokingly.

leon rolled his eyes. "who got your panties in a twist today?"

"c'mon kennedy, i've been holding this gun for like 5 minutes now. you can ask me stuff later."

it's almost like leon pouted as he watched you get into your shooting stance, arms outstretched and legs a decent distance apart.

"here, if you put your hands around it like this. . ." he grabbed your hands and slightly moved them, making sure your fingers were in the right spot. "now it should be a bit easier to shoot."

you felt your body heating up at his touch, and almost whined in disappointment when he let go.

"try it now," he nodded his head towards the target.

you let out a short breath, calming yourself down before shooting a few rounds. only one of them came close to where you were aiming.

you threw your head back in disbelief.

"how in the world am I even going to learn this?"

leon walked back over to you and placed a hand on your hip.

"you're too stiff, just relax," he whispered in your ear as he began angling your arms back up. "aim, then shoot. take your time."

"would it be better if I thought of someone I hate?" the red dot on the target was reminding you of a certain someone. her and her stupid little dress and her perfect body. you didn't realize your eyes were narrowing in anger.

"whatever helps you out." the corner of his lips twiched upward as he decided to stand behind you and instead bring his arms to your hands from there.

"I'll help keep the gun steady for now."

you could not concentrate.

"leon, this is not helping."

"oh, am I distracting you?" he teased.

"you wish," you countered before pulling the trigger again, this time hitting the red dot.

you immediately turned around to leon, a huge grin on your face. he returned it with a smile of his own.

"good girl. that's definitely better than last time. maybe I should help you hold your gun all the time."

"you really should," you blurted out.

leon looked surprised, but you quickly followed up with: "but you must spend all your time looking for your little girlfriend."

well, that sure didn't help your statement out.

"my little girlfriend?" he asked as you turned the safety on on your gun and set it down on the counter.

"the girl you have a picture of stashed on your drawer?" you raised an eyebrow as you began to find a sudden interest in the floor.

"ada?"

"who else, kennedy." you scowled.

you saw his shoes come into your vision, and you looked up at the blonde.

"is that seriously what's been bothering you this whole time?"

"well, isn't she basically your girlfriend? if she is, it's just weird you'd be, you know, this close to me." you lied. him being close to you definitely wasn't why you were so pissed.

"ada isn't my girlfriend." he used his hand to bring your jaw up to meet his gaze.

you let out a hum. "sorry, I don't know what I was saying."

"are you. . . jealous?" leon smirked, coming closer.

"no way, leon."

"you need to become a better liar." he glanced at your lips and then back at your eyes.

"are we gonna kiss right now?" you joked, not expecting leon's response.

"can i kiss you?"

your eyes widened and you began to look everywhere but him.

"are you serious?" you couldn't believe him.

"will this show you i'm serious?" he said as he inched closer.

you shut your eyes, only to hear a door open.

"god dammit kennedy, out of all places?"

"what is it this time, chris," leon groaned.

"sorry to bust in during your little moment that was gonna escalate into god knows what, but you might wanna wrap this up. we need you right now." chris leaned against the door.

"he's probably mad i'm not getting with claire. how about we meet at my house at 8?" he leaned down to whisper.

"really?"

"what, did you think we weren't going to continue this?"

[classickook]

more könig headcanons

a/n: i literally cannot get this man out of my head lol i wrote this with civilian!reader in mind and it ended up getting pretty specific (flower shop au???) but i hope y’all still enjoy <3

<< prev | next >>

- idk how the two of you meet but i’m imagining a quaint little town that’s far away from any sort of battle that könig stumbles upon while on break

- let me set the scene: you work in a floral shop or market and spend most of your day planting, nurturing, and arranging a variety of flowers <3

- könig sees you one day and is immediately drawn to your kind smile and sunny aura (no wonder the flowers are so beautiful when they look upon you for sunlight and nourishment, he thinks) and finds himself a bit extremely nervous to introduce himself

- you notice him shuffling awkwardly by the door so you greet him warmly and ask if there’s something you can help him find

- i just know our gentle giant is blushing like crazy at this point; being so close to you and hearing the soft timbre of your voice has his blood pressure skyrocketing

- he shoves his hands in his pockets to hide how shaky they are and tries to act all casual but ends up accidentally knocking over an arrangement next to the door

- the poor guy is BEET RED now and wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole, he’s so embarrassed :(

- he apologizes profusely and feels SO awful for ruining your pretty arrangement, he even offers to pay for it but you wave him off easily as he picks up the broken vase and crushed petals

- “don’t worry about it,” you offer kindly. “it wasn’t my best work anyway.”

- könig still feels like absolute garbage and you can clearly tell by his body language that he feels terribly uncomfortable and kinda curls into that massive body of his to appear smaller

- “did you know that the gladiolus symbolizes strength and integrity like the gladiators of their namesake?” you ask as a way to distract him from the little accident. his pale blue eyes settle on you as you continue, lightly stroking the baby soft petals of the arrangement nearby. “they kind of remind me of you, soldier. valiant and strong yet undoubtedly beautiful.”

- they also represent infatuation is what you don’t tell him, afraid to voice your immediate crush on the man who quite literally stumbled into your floral shop

- “they’re pretty,” he breathes, however, you notice his gaze is not on the flowers you’re showcasing — it’s on you

- your breath catches in your throat at the unwavering contact, stunned into silence as he cautiously reaches forward to brush his gloveless fingers across your cheek; and he’s pleased to find that the velvety-smooth sensation of your skin is incomparable to that of any petal on earth

- from there on out, könig spends most of his free time in your shop, asking about the meanings of every flower, buying a bouquet of your recommendations each day, and carefully placing them on the counter for you before he leaves

- he finally builds up the courage to ask you out, properly, to which you very quickly agree, and the two of you are inseparable after that

- you spend most of your time with him, going for walks in the park, visiting cafes in the area and laughing loudly when könig plops a fingertip of whipped cream on your nose just to lean forward and kiss the sweetness into his mouth, leaving you a blushing mess

- calls you his blümchen (little flower)

- he definitely strikes me as the type who would follow you around like a puppy and do anything you ask! könig aka sunshine/golden retriever bf we all deserve <3

- want him to carry your purse? done

- need some help around the shop? no problem

- you end up buying too much at the store and need him to hold everything for you? you got it

- someone bothering you? consider it already taken care of

- he’s basically your bodyguard and takes your safety very, very seriously; the epitome of scary boyfriend privilege right here

- this man adores you and worships the ground you walk on!!!! enamored doesn’t even begin to express his feelings for you

- literal definition of a simp

- would do anything and everything for you; i’m talking he would kill or die for you (he’s a bit dramatic but we love that about him)

- he loves holding your hand, playing with your fingers, brushing your hair as you lay on his chest ! könig goes crazy for that stuff :)

- especially loves skin-to-skin contact because he wants to get as close to you as possible; he just can’t get enough!

- as i’ve said before, this man’s love language is physical touch and he uses it as a relaxant if he’s anxious or on sensory overload

- extremely observant and can read you like a book (as can you; the two of you just get each other, ya know? match made in heaven fr)

- perfect for cuddling ! literally more comfortable than any pillow or bed, so you end up sleeping on him most of the time and he’s 100% okay with that

- könig loves having you in his arms, especially if he’s just recently come back from a mission, and it makes him so unbelievably happy that you feel safe with him :’)

- has a picture of you in his wallet that he pulls out every single night while he’s away from you on a mission. the poor photo is so wrinkled and faded from the number of times he takes it out but he refuses to throw it away even when you suggest on replacing it; he would never pass up on more pictures of you but i can guarantee he would keep all of them (scrapbook king <3)

- he’s as much of a lover as he is a fighter and i stand by that

- would never ever raise his voice at you; if the two of you get in an argument, he would simply take a breather and maybe go for a walk to clear his head before coming back to hug you and apologize and make things right

- if when he eventually proposes, i know for a fact that it would be with a family heirloom that holds a lot of history and sentimental value (because he’s sweet like that)

- he’s such a good guy, i love him to death!!!! (men all over the world: take notes)

[sunluzhen]

"LOST."

Memory drabble prompt, requested by @light-imperfected .

The following recounts MK's first encounter with Lady Bone Demon through his perspective. Warnings for uh... everything she is. Horror themes and MK's downward spiral and panic. It uh. Got kinda long, and I accidentally deleted the original draft replying to the ask directly, so. Regular post it is. I did have fun writing this though! It's all below the read more. Please let me know what you think if you read this. :)

He's alone, and it's dark, and it's wet, and so very cold. The tunnel's exit is within sight, at least. He can't wait to feel the sun and wind on his face again, to put the whole brush with the Spider Queen behind him and the humiliating ordeal of figuring out how to shrink and unshrink on his own—

A small part of him, bitter and quiet, murmurs that he shouldn't have had to figure out his powers on his own. That he shouldn't have had to deal with Spider Queen's apparent return by himself.

Shake it off. Put one foot in front of the other. It's almost over. He just needs to—

Someone was crying.

A shiver races down his spine at the realization. He stops. Turns around. Thinks: I don't want to be the protagonist in a horror movie — but if someone else got lost down here, then they must be so very scared. And he was the city's new hero. He has to go help them.

It's a trap, whispers the wind. He brushes it off as paranoia. He still has to investigate. The sobbing sounds like it's coming from someone young. Holding his staff in front of himself protectively, he carefully makes his way towards the source of the sound — deeper inside the tunnel. The opposite direction of the exit.

Everything was quiet, save for the sound of a child's sobbing and his own anxious breathing. It was so cold down here. Even in the midst of summer. Something isn't right. Turn back. Turn back. You know what's going to happen why aren't you turning back—

One foot in front of the other, he rounds a corner, and sees her. A little girl curled up on the floor. It's not a little girl. Open your eyes. Turn around. Run. He does none of those things, continuing to shove back the small voices in the back of his head. He thinks they're himself. They probably are. 

He approaches the little girl. She sounds and acts just like some kid that found herself in some place she really wasn't supposed to be. Alone and scared and so very alone. Just like him. He puts a hand on her shoulder, ignores how cold she felt to the touch — it was cold down there, after all, and who knows how long she'd been wandering these tunnels searching for a way out. It’s a trap. Look. You should be looking.

He's the ‘Monkey Kid'. The city’s hero. Of course he tries to comfort her. He says all the things he wishes for someone to say to him. He’s out there, somewhere, apparently confident that his student can handle things by himself already. He’s certain it was a lie, like the kind of assurances adults tell kids to try and placate them but no one actually believes in those—

So, of course he listens when the little girl says that Spider Queen was working on something truly evil. That he must follow her and see so that he can destroy it before she finishes making whatever she's planning. She leads him even further into the tunnels. Back into the demon’s lair.

He really should've listened to his instincts the first time. He doubts himself far too much to rely on them when it matters. He thinks this as he wounds up glimpsing his reflection on a familiar surface, freezing mid-strike. The voice that is also him, but maybe also not, shouts at him to stop. It’s a trap. Please listen, just this once, and run. Now.

It’s too late. Dread is a heavy weight plummeting inside his stomach as he slowly turns around. Never before was the color blue so horrifying. The wind whispers but it's no longer familiar. The hairs on the back of his neck bristle. His heart pounds in his chest. 

Ancient. Angry. Cold. She's knocking on the door. Don’t let her in. She’s already inside. You should’ve listened to yourself. It hurts. He’s scared and there’s no one to help him. He did leave him, didn’t he? He stumbles, trips, jerks his limbs around in a vain effort to try and get away. He has to stop her. Here, now, somehow. He’s not capable of it, not as he is right now. He wishes that that person never left. He really shouldn't be alone right now.

He clumsily swings his staff. There’s nothing for it to hit. She's everywhere and nowhere at all. She’s chasing him. She hasn't moved at all. A hand that’s not there lunges for his throat and catches him in a vice grip. It’s cold and he can't breathe and no one is going to save him. He can't do this. Why did anyone think he could possibly do this? The answer is that no one did. He knows this. She doesn't have to say it, but she does. She coos and she jeers and she laughs at him—

His savior didn't even mean to save him. Like the helpless coward he is, he takes the distraction as a chance to slip away. He shrinks to the size of a pathetic little ant and scurries away. She lets him. Because she's everywhere and nowhere at all — and she got the staff like she wanted. He makes it home because she let him leave. 

He goes to sleep feeling still feeling so terribly cold. He wakes up to nothing having changed. He knows that he can't tell anyone. That there’s nothing him or any of his friends could possibly do to stop something like that. Even Xiaojiao. He knows this; it’s a fact that’s embedded itself into his very marrow. He’s supposed to protect everyone, but he couldn’t even protect himself. He thinks that he was probably abandoned, and he can’t even get angry about it. Everything still feels too cold for that. That they might have all been. He doesn't know. He doesn't want to listen to the words he was already thinking — that she just gave voice to.

Maybe he just has to get stronger, somehow. Better. He doesn't really need the staff. He thought he did. It was one of the nicer lies that he told himself, maybe. That he actually needed it. That his powers came from it. Little good they did him, though. If only he wasn't left alone.

He wouldn't be so very lost if that was the case.

But it's not. 

[mahvaladara]

well I can't ask all for Farlo again xD Can I ask all for Peia x Sael?

XD Here goes then, part 1:

❤️ Who is the more romantic one? Do they wish their partner was more romantic?

I'd say neither of them are in your face sappy romantic. Dragons like Sael don't do "romance" the way humans do. Dragons show affection and love through acts of service.

They do have small ways of showing affection, such as Peia picking up on music arrangements that pick more Sael's interest and developing entire medleys around it because he knows it was make Sael happy to ear him make such beautiful music out of what Sael did for him. Or Sael making a new musical instruments or a particularly beautiful and soft brush for Peia.

First time Sael gifted Peia a brush, Peia realized it was very detailed and full of embossed flowers. He actually went to ask Sael why he wasted so much time making such intricate things for him when he cannot see to fully appreciate it, Sael just pragmatically answers "You can feel, can you not? If it is the colour I chose for the embossed flowers in the back of the brush that is concerning you, pray ask and I will more than glad to describe it in great detail."

🍭 What's something they can never agree on (big or small)?

Sael is possessive and protective. Most dragons are. And Peia hates that sometimes Sael treats him like he's made of glass. But to Sael he's just being a good lover, keeping his loved one safe and protected. To Peia he's underestimating him. They often get into fights over that.

Another thing is Sael's sister, Dem'Myr. Peia absolutely adores Dem, they get along like water and wine. Sael will grumble that though wine and water can mix perfectly it's going to turn into shit. Why do the two insist in being friends? It's because of Dem that Sael is represented as a 'pig'.

🧡 Who said 'I love you' first?

Neither.

Dragons don't actually have a word for love, there is the word 'M'ariste' which means that, but they rarely say it. Dragons show they love someone and Sael considers that both he and Peia have both shown devotion for one another. That is enough for him. Brushing of his tail, the small touches, the kisses, the music that Peia plays, the comfort, the laughter, the appreciation for his art. Of course Peia loves him.

As for Peia...

Peia: He has never said he loves me...

Dem being a prickly dick: Oh yeah. Don't bother saying you love him, we don't have that word in our vocabulary. He knows what it means, but he will neither say it or care about the word.

Peia:... -upset-

Dem: Does he give you needlessly intricate gifts despite the fact you're blind? Keeps your safe? Provides for you anything you need? Has shown you and shared with you items from his hoard? Shared knowledge with you? Goes out of his way to make you smile? Brushes his tail against you at every chance he has? Holds your hands and brushes his face against them like a cat? Will literally sniff your hair at every chance he gets? Randomly chirps or purrs when you touch him in a kinda big and intimidating but remarkably cute way?

Peia: Yes?

Dem: Then he loves you. Don't worry about the word. It's not needed to be what it is.

🍫 Who is more likely to steal the other's clothes? What are their favorite items to steal?

Sael. He can't use Peia's clothes, he's twice their size. But he will bloody sleep ontop of one of Peia's shirts or robes. He has also made ribbons and belt accessories out of pieces of Peia's clothes so he can keep 'his presence close'.

Peia has worn one of Sael's robes or two on occasion, but he tries not to otherwise he gets pounced at by a horny dragon. "It's just... he's so tiny, and my clothes are so big and he just looks tiny and adorable in them... Cut a dragon some slack, please! I like pretty things!"

💛 What are their favorite activites to do together?

Make 'music' together. Often Sael will be in his workshop hammering away a blade and Peia will keep him company while playing his harp and more often than not Sael will start hammering away in rhythm to Peia's music. This sometimes results in over-hammered steel by accident.

Dance. Sael loves dancing and often drags Peia to dance with him. This usually ends up in laughter.

And of course the other type of dancing dragons do on occasion.

@lazysunjade

[azulsluver]

Can i req for yandere Jamil comforting darling by braiding their hair? Thank youuu

tw. yandere, blood mention, implied murder, angst/comfort (?), gaslighting, imprisonment, mean!Jamil.

Authors note♛ I can write comfort but I was feeling kinda mean today, so why not a mix of both, but let's be real here :) This was my first req so I'm pretty proud of this one. Also sorry if this wasn't what you expected.

Things would have been predictable if you knew what you were up against. To prevent the wrong and be prepared for the worse. But no matter how hard you wish to try, things just didn't seem to go your way. No point in pouting or surfacing regrets can be undone. It can't bring someone back to life after all. With sweaty palms clasp together as a small prayer of mercy escape the trembling lips, a single thread of remorse to the one taking the blade rest easily. And you, face judgement.

To foolishly think escaping the hands of Viper would be easy has made you grimace at the thought, a finger being gnawed at your teeth to calm the spiking nerves. Word goes around like a wildfire, a common knight breaking the sorrowful reality of your position would soon lay dead with blood on your name. Eyes like yours do deceive the gullible, sweeten words would only make the fallen suffer greatly if they took it seriously. Some might say you should be favored to have caught the eyes of the Viper family, Jamil did age like fine wine that soon brought trouble along the way.

But why should you? Watching how easily it was to influence Kalim into getting rid of those who deemed to be close with you, must've been a way to pay for the past mistakes. Messing up your view point of the two who you used to saw as friends turn a blind eye for their own selfish desires. Endless attempts to trick Jamil into letting you go became futile, saving yourself to the embarrassment of being spoiled against your will has ticked a part of your ego.

Huddled up in the corner of your room as you anxiously wait for Jamil to enter. Fearing for not just your safety but the one who sought your freedom.

The sound of his footsteps heavily weighing the atmosphere as a click is heard from the other side. The door doesn't creak a noise, but the silence has you deafen in horror at the sight. Gasping the words that stuck deep down your throat.

As Jamil enters he closes the door gently behind him along with another click. God, the sound is driving you mad. You can't make it out, you could never understand how Jamil feels, how his eyes bore into the sight of your messy state; eyes large as your body uncontrollably shudders. Say something, anything.

You're scared, he's never come to you so unkempt, so dirty. The stench of rust and burning wood lingers as soon as he stepped foot.

He walks over to your shared bed and sits diligently, a deep sigh breaks the silence of the room. A hand raises towards you like a puppy, commanding you to follow.

"C'mere, now."

Flinching, your wobbly knees move in a instant, sitting between Jamil's legs but recoiling slightly at the blotches of red staining his clothes. His hand brushes your check affectionately, your eyes travel to his face and stare quietly at the bags plagued under his eyes. Tired. He's tired, how many nights did you spend knowing he wasn't by your side to hold? Remembering the time you would celebrate at the fact work has kept him from seeing you, thus having 'meetings' with a new friend. That friend. What happened?

"I never took you to be so cruel, have I spoiled you too much?" Jamil's voice is barely above a whisper, hearing him again spurs a deep gut wrenching uncertainty. "I don't understand." A weak protest.

"You never do, all you care about is yourself. Not even to those street rats being fooled for your own desires." Harsh, was he really comparing you as someone selfish? Your hands balled tightly at the words, a spark of deficiency lays under your tongue. "What have you done with them? Jamil, please.." Cracking at the last sentence, your eyes begin to blur, stinging with tears of anger and grief. Holding onto the last thought that it wasn't true, he didn't do it.

Jamil only gives you a disapproving look before moving his fingers under your scalp, shutting your eyes instantly for the worse.

"Look at you, even spoiled you can't even keep yourself tidy. Such soiled hair." Merciful strokes the base of your head, making you sulk at the touch. Before you knew it, Jamil has you trapped between his hold, both hands combing out the ones that stuck in between his fingers. You don't want to focus on Jamil, not his pleasant touch and not even his words of comfort.

Frustrated tears slip down your face, thoughts of your helper laying bloodied and alone, such a terrible way to meet death. You didn't notice Jamil's smile, a sick expression of satisfaction.

"Shhh, shhhhhh, it's alright, sweetheart..Take this as a lesson. You should've known better than to make acquaintance with a common servant. It's in the past now, no use crying over spilled milk, hm?" Waiting for your reply, he takes your whiny cry for response.

Fingers swiftly taking particles of your locs to make small braids, just as he used to wear during his school years. Busy he was, didn't have time to give you a proper haircut, your hair grown long as his leaves a giddy feeling inside. Such a sucker for you, but for some odd reason he has trouble showing it completely before being brushed off. Your crying will soon die down, the night fresh as lights brighten the noisy streets. Leaving you with hiccuped cries and poker-faced. The redness in your eyes leave a sting behind from the amount of tears, cursing Jamil for comforting you so soon. Wishing instead he would continue to spit insults your way, that it was your fault an innocent person was wiped away and never to be heard, spoken even.

"I'm sorry, Jamil." Jamil pulls you up to him and lies you down, not bothered by his dirtied clothes messing up the sheets. Your hair now nicely done lays under the rows of pillows supporting your weight. A pair of lips greet yours chastely, the muscle of your eyes giving up to see the moonlight shine on jamil's features. As if mockingly showing you the beauty of your captor in spite the ugliness of his actions.

Engrossed by the smell, Jamil’s honeyed words stuck to you like sap, licking it off the base of his palm as your ushered to sleep. Hearing a couple of words of praise and offense. Long gone from the living and into a dreamless state, feeling the lingering touch of his fingers playing the tips of your hair.

In a state of peace, you hope somewhere in the afterlife they can forgive you.

[seraphicalsuccubus]

Your hair is so beautiful and thick and luscious omfg 😭 how do you keep it so healthy between colors? Mine is so damaged from processing it that I’m letting my natural color grow in and I'm so envious of how pretty and vibrant yours always looks. I wish I had hair like yours.

oh gosh, I rambled again, this is so long (oops) lol 😅

okay real talk though, don’t take everything you see online as truth or natural beauty. I’m pretty transparent about the fact that I wear hair extensions, lol. my natural hair is a little longer than shoulder length, and I hate my hair being short but extensions help me feel comfortable in my body until it grows back out. I lowkey wish I’d never cut it, lmao. I used to use my hair like a security blanket but after being told ‘you can’t cut your hair!!! it’s so pretty!!! don’t ruin it!!!’ my entire life, I hacked it off. it was nearly down to my ass and just as thick as it is with the extensions, and naturally very curly. like, it was so liberating to just get rid of it after being told I wasn’t allowed to for years, by multiple people (partners, friends, family, etc), I felt like I’d lost like 10lbs of just hair when it was cut, but I do miss it now. and my natural hair still curls, but my extensions don’t hold curls all that well, no matter what I do, so I usually just brush it all out or straighten it match better because it looks ridiculous with my hair curled and the extensions barely even being wavy, lol.

but, anyways, my point here is: I don’t even have hair like me, at the moment. that’s just 4 packs (or 80 wefts, each pack comes with 20 wefts that you use to make ‘sandwiches’ with two wefts and a thin lock of your hair placed between the tapes, so it’s 40 pairs of extensions) of remy human hair tape-in extensions that I have installed to add length and volume until my hair grows back out, in 4 different lengths, dyed to match whatever color my hair is at the time and cut to blend better with the short, shaggy mullet I have naturally, lol. I do a full new set installation every 3ish months, because that’s usually when I change colors, or when I notice the hair quality is declining/shedding too much and I need to replace them. it can be costly, and it’s a lot of hair maintenance tbh, but it helps me feel more comfortable in my skin because I have hair I can cover myself with and hide behind whenever I’m feeling insecure again, so that justifies the cost for me. and now that I think about it, I’d actually need 5 sets of wefts to do all my hair if I didn’t have both sides of my head shaved down into symmetrical side cuts, that’s how thick my hair is. for thin or fine hair, you can get away with probably two sets of extensions, but for thick hair I’d recommend 3-4 or more for it to blend with your hair properly. I do buy an extra set when I purchase a new brand though, in case I need to install more than the normal 80 (which can happen, depending on the thickness of the extensions themselves compared to the thickness of your natural hair) just so I’m always prepared with some leftover wefts.

also, you can literally get a few sets and install them at home, too, if you ever have the extra cash so you can have long hair again until it grows back in!! I can recommend several more luxurious and pricey hair kinda brands I’ve used, or even cheaper sets from brands on Amazon that I’ve purchased while in a bind when I couldn’t afford the more expensive extensions, that I was surprised to find out DO actually hold up pretty well to use and are much less harsh on your wallet, lol. and you CAN install them yourself, but it’s a pain in the ass to do the back of your head alone with like 3 mirrors angled just right in order to see everything you need to, so I recommend asking a friend or someone you trust to watch a few videos on how to do it (that is, if you can’t afford a salon visit or just don’t want to have to go to a stylist to install them), and have them help you to make it easier that way you’re not straining yourself to do it alone. installation doesn’t take that long once you’re used to it. maybe about one hour or a little longer, depending on your hair thickness and texture, how many wefts you’ll need to apply, and how fast/comfortable the person is with applying them. it’ll take the longest to do the first time they’re installed, especially if it’s someone that’s never done it before because of how precise you have to be, so expect to be stuck there for a while the first couple installations until they’re used to doing the application process and feel comfortable with it enough to work faster. it’s always better to go slower and have a better application than to rush and have wasted the money and time for them to not look as great or as natural as they should when the installation is done. however, I taught my roommate how to do it, and she has gotten so fast at it, she can literally do my whole head in like a half hour because of how many times I’ve had her install my extensions for me now, lol. she still groans whenever I tell her I got a new set to replace my current ones though because she hates doing it for me (it can be frustrating sometimes, especially with thicker or curly hair, which I have both, so she usually has to straighten my natural hair in order to section everything correctly that way she can apply the extensions properly or they won’t glue together as well and will fall out quicker), but she’s usually a good sport about it, lol.

sorry this is so long 😥 this is just something I enjoy so when people ask, I always ramble about it bc I just love hair lol 😭

[storm-coax]

For the tickling asks 🥰 /p

9. Who is someone in the Tickle Community you admire or wish you could get to know better?

17. What would be your most ideal tickling scenario?

18. Do you enjoy bondage/restraints/etc.? Why or why not? (And if you do prefer them: Which is your favorite way/position of being restrained or restraining someone else?)

19. Do you enjoy tickle tools? Why or why not? (And if you do prefer them: Which is your favorite tickle tool AND on which ticklish area(s)?)

hi storm!! 👋🏿 /gen

9. I kinda stopped admiring people in a "I hold these people on a pedestal" way in general so that applies to people here too

But for people I'd like to know better would be you and your fiance (tho i have talked with him a lil bit) cuz yall are cool and no pressure at all since life sucks and gets busy lmao /gen

17. This is soooo hard /sar *ahem* SWITCH x SWITCH PLAYFUL TICKLE FIGHT!!! and uh SWITCH x SWITCH x LER SESH!!! /gen

18. I've never been in bondage before but I do wanna try a multitude of positions tho I don't know any specific names of them 😅 /gen

19. I do enjoy using tools cuz I think they'll enhance the experience and I'm pretty flexible so I don't mind experimenting with things like paint brushes, those scalp massagers, those lil claws people wear, fang extensions for mouth tickles, pipe cleaners, I also don't mind diying a tool or two cuz why not /gen