,

— 𝘨𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳

the lowdown — neytiri’s his first love, but you’re his forever…he swears.

the who — jake sully x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 3.2k

the tags & warnings — possible language, she fell first / he fell harder, first love / last love, arguable tension

the notes — based on this request ! ideally this takes place before anyone dies & everyone is happy :) 

masterlist

You and Jake have always been a sticky situation.

Because it didn’t always start with the two of you. At first, he had eyes for someone else, could only bear the thought of being with one person in the whole of Pandora, and that came in the form of the clan’s most important daughter. And you watched from the outskirts, watched as lessons in life turned into lessons of love.

To be frank, you don’t know when the adoration started, when the feelings began to bloom. Your heart was arid territory, but the seeds were planted and the roots were festering.

Maybe it was his dedication to the people, spirit one with the village. He was allegiant to Pandora down to every last blade of grass, every leaf, every insect. And he was kind, offered his heart and full efforts to every endeavor.

You admired him silently, learned to love him quietly, even as the passion between him and Neytiri swelled until it was ready to burst.

You hadn’t really realized that he’d noticed you until one day nestled among the trees.

“Is this where you disappear to everyday?”

Your neck swivels so hard, you almost get whiplash. The project you’re working on, another satchel to replace your own, bunched tight in your fists as your eyes scan the expanse of forest floor wildly.

Jake stands a few meters below, hand resting casually on the hilt of the dagger strapped across his broadening chest.

All that sounds in the quiet between you is the bobbing of your throat as you swallow, eyes wide and unblinking.

“You don’t really talk much, do you?”

You suppose you don’t, not when you’re used to blending into the edges, spending your days lounging around village grounds and finding odd and ends to tend to.

“Nothing?” Jake presses, weight shifting as he peers up at you.

“Not everyday,” is your only response, still unmoving from your perch on the branch.

Jake only nods, conversation coming to a painfully quick lull.

“What are you up to?” he prods, shifting again.

“A bag.”

Your cheeks are warm under his unrelenting gaze, mouth dry because you’ve spent months admiring him from afar, watching him slowly meld into becoming one of the people.

“A bag,” he repeats.

You nod.

He lets out a puff of air that sounds an awful like a humorless laugh and he scratches the back of his neck. He’s folding his cards first this time around, unsure of how to trod such uncertain territory with you.

“See you around, ________,” he says, giving you a playful salute as he peels away.

Your heart skips as he saunters off, timbre of his voice sweet around your name.

Jake continues to find you in that spot often.

Graduated from holding brief conversations from different elevations to propping against adjacent branches enjoying your company, he comes to find out that you're awfully shy. 

Painfully so. But when he makes you laugh, and you timidly smile with full heart, he feels your facade crumbling.

And as chance meetings after duties turn into promises, you can’t help but wonder what's changed. Every moment with you means a moment unspent with his lover. It makes equal parts pride and dread swell in the pit of your stomach.

Whispers about him ripple through the village, that he’s learning quickly, catching onto the way of the people with great ease. There’s talk of a ceremony, of accepting him as one. It makes something sour, bitter, curdle inside of you in the ugliest way possible.  

Because a ceremony means selection and selection means solidifying the relationship he has with the leader’s daughter. It means no more limbo and the time you’ve spent trying to guard your wanting heart is shot to shit. 

It considerably dampens your mood, something that takes Jake a mere glance over your body language to read. 

“Something’s bothering you,” he observes, head tilting to the side. 

You bite the inside of your lip, eyes golden and gooey. They’re the only thing that betrays the stoic expression that colors the carve of your jaw and the curve of your cheekbones. 

It takes every ounce of effort to not visibly melt at the way you carry yourself. 

He doesn’t know when it started with you, how you could have possibly caught his attention when all you did was wash out in the background, bleed through the edges. But you had. Had captured his attention enough for him to second guess such a fleeting barrage of emotions when it came to the future tsahik. 

Neytiri was a force to be reckoned with, but you were a gentle gust of embracing wind. Jake didn’t feel any pressure with you, didn’t feel like he was wearing the skin of someone else. He felt like him. 

“Our time will end,” is all you say. 

It takes him a moment, but he notices the slick of your lashes, the almost imperceptible hiccup. 

His five-fingered hand cradles your chin, and for the briefest of breaths, you want to ease away, want to put as much distance as you could between you and the very one who has the power to nurture and shatter your heart all the same. But something glimmers like liquid gold in Jake’s eyes and you crumple.

“Why is that?” he whispers. “What makes you say so?” 

“Do you think I’m a fool?” you ask.

There is no malice in your tone, only a lingering thread of defeat. 

“Far from it,” Jake answers, nudging you to meet his gaze when your eyes flicker away. “You are the most intelligent and capable person I know.” 

Your breath hitches and you swallow down a petulant rebuttal. 

“I hear what they say about you, Jake Sully,” you say lightly. “They want to make you one of us.” 

A gentle smile twitches upon his lips, something triumphant flickering over his features. 

“You against it?” he asks, eyebrows quirking.

You shake your head, fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide his hand from your face. When you try to pull away, he threads your digits together, tugging you so that you shift closer to him. 

“You do great things for the Omatikaya,” you say. “They are very proud of you.” 

“Are you?” he presses. 

“Am I what?” you ask, voice caught in your throat. 

Jake draws you impossibly closer. You can make out the constellations of blemishes on his face, the smattering of glowing freckles across the expanse of his muscled chest. 

“Are you proud of me?” he wonders. 

It’s a loaded question, one that makes a shiver rip down your spine and your cheeks to warm. 

Of course you were proud of him. You’d watched him from afar for far too long, had seen every accomplishment, every failure. Had seen the spectrum of his emotions, every jubilant moment and bouts of discouragement. 

“Yes,” you answer simply. “Very.” 

The smile that cracks the lush of his mouth makes you swallow hard. 

“Good,” he hums. “I’m glad.”

He’s searching your face, eyes glazed as he takes in all of you before him. The silence is thick, pierceable by the bluntest of edges. When you show no intentions of breaking the quiet, Jake speaks again. 

“Now tell me,” he says, voice rumbling in his chest. “Why is our time ending?” 

Your lips purse and something like annoyance shutters over your pretty face. 

“The tsahik’s daughter has made her intentions with you very clear,” you say, trying to sweeten the acidic words on your tongue. “You cannot waste anymore moments with the likes of me.” 

Jake bites back the widening of his smile, but he can’t help it, not when this encounter solidifies every suspicion he’s had about you and him. 

“You’re right,” he says simply. “Neytiri’s asked her parents for their blessing for us.” 

You try not to let the disdain cloud your features, try to tamp down the twitch of your frown, but you can’t get anything past him, not when Jake’s favorite subject to study is you. 

“I’m sure they are delighted,” you respond, making a move to peel your fingers from his. 

Your chest is tightening and your vision is clouding. 

His grip squeezes and the film of tears that sheen your eyes makes his heart go soft. 

“They do approve,” he adds, pausing to pick his next words carefully. “But…”

Your gaze flicks to meet his again, heart stuttering when you find that his gaze hasn't left your form. His eyes are mapping every one of your features, pausing a moment too long on your lips. 

Your cheeks blaze.

“But?” you fill. 

“I refused,” he replies thoughtfully. 

He could laugh, the way your lips part, brow bones shooting up as your eyes blow wide. 

“Why would you–” 

“My heart belongs to someone else,” he finally admits. “It has for a long time and it was stupid of me to think that I could ignore it.”

“Oh—” Your breath hitches. 

“But I can only act on my heart if she’ll have me,” he says, searching your eyes. 

“Do you think she—” 

Jake breathes out a laugh, tugs you so that your front presses against his, close enough to feel the fan of his breath against your lips, to smell the delicious spice of bathing herbs clinging to his balmy skin.

“You’re torturing me here,” he groans, throwing his head back. 

You see the way his Adam's apple bobs and you fidget in your seat. 

“I—”

“Jesus Christ, love, put me out of my misery and tell me you’ll have me, please.”

You only manage a noise of surprise before his hand cups the back of your neck to guide you forward, lips pressing desperately against yours. His mouth is warm and when he leans into you, you taste the sweetness of berries on his tongue. 

His hands wander, gliding over the smooth expanse of your flesh like he’s committing every curve and edge of your body to his memory. 

“Wait, wait,” you whisper breathlessly. “What about Neytiri? She… She loves you.” 

Jake’s dazed, disoriented because the taste of you makes him far more delirious than he’d expected. 

He presses his forehead against your own. 

“She’s got nothing on you, angel.” 

Everything shifts on its axis after that, but there’s one thing in particular that remains—the seed of doubt that had rooted that sunny day under the canopy of the jungle’s oversized leaves. 

Perhaps you’re being cynical, a little paranoid, but Jake’s yet to claim you before Ewya despite officially becoming one with the people. And you could stomach it, the idea that maybe he’s just prioritizing a smooth shift into life with the clan, but lately he’s been sneaking around, blowing you off. 

You don’t want to give that niggling feeling of insecurity any stock, not when he’s so lovely to you when you two are intertwined, but you happen upon them by chance and you feel stupid. It was silly, really, to expect Jake to cut ties so abruptly when his fickle heart used to all but thrum for the future tsahik. 

They laugh on the embankment, sitting a little too close for comfort.You want to look away, tell yourself that you’re being too much, but he hesitantly tucks a braid behind her ear and your breath hitches in tandem with hers. 

You can’t force yourself to expel the breath in your lungs, eyes locked on their figures like your pupils are tethered. 

You wish you didn’t stick around, wish you’d just continue on in ignorance, because as Jake leans to give Neytiri a closer look at whatever he’s toying with in his hands, the distance starts closing between them. 

They look like they belong together, two bodies that perfectly fuse.

“Oh—” You hadn’t meant to make a sound, wanted to escape quietly, but just as easily as the breadth between the two of them had closed, a chasm forms between their lithe bodies. 

“________?” he calls, voice layered with alarm. 

You turn on your heel, pushing through the curling foliage with blurring vision. 

“Hey, ________, wait!” he calls out, feet splashing from the water as he climbs from where he’d been sitting with his ankles plunged beneath the surface. 

When his footfalls fast approach and his fingers wrap around the width of your forearm, you quickly dash away the pooling tears before turning to face him head on. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispers, cupping your rounded cheeks in his palms. 

His fingertips glide down the length of your neck, brushing over your shoulders as he examines you. 

You shake your head quickly, forcing down the insecurity that bubbles hot like magma under your burning skin. 

“Nothing,” you say, clearing your throat before finally meeting his worried gaze. 

“Oh, come on,” he sighs, pushing the hair from your face to take a better look. “It’s just me, ________. You can tell me the truth.” 

You lick your drying lips before gently breaking away from him. 

“It’s nothing, Jake,” you reassure him with a small smile. “I’m just being silly.”

He opens his mouth to protest, taking a step towards you. 

“Jake Sully!” Tsu’tey’s voice thunders through the forest as he claps a hand down on his comrade’s shoulder.

Jake turns a warning eye towards him, mutters that now isn’t the time as he swats his hands away, but when he turns to face you, you’re gone. 

You feel guilty. 

Guilty because you fear that you’ve blown things way out of proportion, guilty because Jake’s reserved to giving you your space after another failed attempt at coaxing you from your shell. And infinitely so because he holds you close, when your breathing is steady and you drift in and out of sleep. You hear him, like the gentlest of lullabies. 

I love you. 

It haunts you, those three words. And you guess you’re no better than him. The weight of solidifying your union before Ewya is a heavy one, Jake knows this. But such human words weigh the same to him. And you know that to hear such a lofty sentiment rasp from your soft voice is all he could ever want. 

“He is at his wit’s end, you know?” 

You pause your laundering, allowing your loincloths and woven tops to sink back to the shallow bed of the river. When you crane your neck to find the source of the voice, you’re surprised to find Neytiri leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree. 

Your response is delayed. 

“...Huh?” 

“Jake,” she says simply, and your cheeks warm. “You worry him.” 

You turn back to your chore, spine stiffening when something rustles and Neytiri moves to sit next to you. 

“May I?” she asks, reaching for one of your intricately beaded tops. 

“Okay,” you whisper, unable to meet her sharp gaze. 

“I was hurt when he denied my parent’s blessing,” she says casually, like the thought alone doesn’t make your heart ache for the tsahik’s daughter. You can’t help it. “But I wasn’t surprised.” 

Your head snaps up, meeting her eyes reluctantly. 

“When I first brought him back to the village,” she says, wringing the corded fabric. “You caught his eye, but you didn’t even glance his way.” 

And truthfully, you hadn’t. Dreamwalkers were trouble and you had no intention of ever crossing paths with him. But then you began to see more and more of him, began to feel the weight of his presence on the village and you couldn’t help but give into the fall. 

“He started asking about you,” she laughs quietly. “Every time he’d see you. Said that you never paid him any mind no matter how close he got.” 

You roll your lips nervously, watching the way she reaches for another one of your garments and washes with increasing frustration. You almost miss the tears welling in her eyes. 

“I wished for so long that he would let it go, let you go, but you have a hold on him, ________,” she rasps. 

You blink in disbelief, shaky fingers reaching to touch her own. 

Her face tilts towards yours and her grip on the fabric loosens. 

“Jake Sully is a good man,” she whispers. “Don’t waste something good because you are scared. It will not only be a disservice to him or me, but yourself.” 

You swallow, nodding slowly. 

“I’m–” you take in a shuddering breath as your head bows. “I’m sorry.” 

A wet hand comes up to your cheek. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Neytiri coos. “Just be grateful. Be fearless. It is Eywa’s will.” 

Jake almost thinks you’re a vision when he sees you making quick strides towards him. He breaks away from the circle of villagers just as you press yourself into his chest and those not privy to his relationship with you watch with widened eyes. 

“Hi,” he breathes, combing his fingers through your hair. “Hi.” 

You don’t say anything, arms looping around the narrow of his waist as he throws an apologetic look over his shoulder and walks the two of you towards a quiet area outside of the circle. 

“Everything alright?” he asks, trying to peel you away from where you’ve buried your face in his chest.

You mumble something unintelligible, something that makes his ears prick hard to hear, but your cheeks are hot and you aren’t sure if you can handle seeing his softened eyes as you utter the words. 

“What?” he asks, pulling away enough to see the flush across your face. 

“Said Iloveyou,” you murmur. 

He freezes, like his brain is short circuiting when he pieces the words together. 

“What?” 

You steel your nerves, suck a deep breath into your lungs, and find his sunny eyes.

“I love you, Jake,” you say shakily. “I love you and—”

The laugh that leaves him is giddy and you have half the nerve to melt, but he’s kissing you for the first time since that day in the forest and you’re putty in his hands. 

“Wow,” he whispers when you break away to stand on your tiptoes and wind your arms around his neck. “I didn’t think…”

You’re kissing him again, fervently, like you’re trying to make up for lost time and he can’t help the tickling behind his navel or the heat that starts from his toes and burns all the way up his chest. 

Your skin is plush under the pads of his wandering hands and those three words, spoken into the hum of the surrounding jungle is all the confirmation that he needs that it’s you and him forever. 

“Wait, wait,” he sighs breathlessly. “I have–” 

A hand snakes between your bodies, fingers digging into the pouch strapped across his broad chest.

You watch with viscous eyes as he pulls what looks to be a gilded ring, tiny in circumference. Two pieces of thin vine cord through either side, beaded with pearlescent stones and smooth gems. 

“I…” he trails off, scratching the back of his neck as you fall back on the heels of your feet, arms loosening from around his neck to give him the room to hold it up to you. “It’s one of the only things I care about from Earth.” 

Your browbones twitch. 

“The ring’s been in my family for a while,” he says gently. “But it’s probably too small and I know that Na’vi don’t wear things on their fingers and–” 

“It’s beautiful, Jake,” you say softly, palm pressing against his chest. 

He grins, sliding the heirloom up your wrist to rest snugly around the flesh of your bicep.

“Perfect,” he murmurs to himself. 

And when your eyes swing from the gift to meet his gaze, you find him already staring down at you tenderly.

“I don’t…” you trail off, suddenly shy under such intensity. “I don’t have anything for you.” 

Jake barks out a laugh, corner of his lips quirking up in a lopsided smile as he cups your face in his hands and brings his forehead to yours. 

“Don’t need to give me anything,” he says quickly, breaths warm and lips a hairsbreadth from your own. “Just tell me you love me again, that’s enough.” 

Your face is indescribably warm under his cool touch. 

“And maybe another kiss,” he adds coyly, then a hand skims over the small of your back, dangerously close to your tail. “Or more…if you want.” 

neng © 2023

taglist; @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @junieswrlds , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @neteyamo , @fanboyluvr , @mazemymirror , @theycallmesia , @girlpostingsposts, @athenachu , @hiya-itsamber , @morks-watermelon , @sanfransolomitatm , @lovedbychoi

HOME TO US | rhysand

summary; rhys and nyx are a family of two, but they're both pretty hell-bent on making it into a trio, with you.

word count; 12,151

notes; I have no idea how this got so long? I planned for it to be like 4-5k, and @azsazz can vouch for that. also big shout out to @acourtofwhatthefuck for proofreading this for me when I just had no motivation, but I needed this one to be perfect.

Fate had always seemed to have the worst timing for you.

Whether it be relationships, the sunny skies turned to rain, or simply this; balancing precariously on a stool and getting startled by your own phone, which you could have sworn was on silent mode. 

Blaring out across the shop in a sudden burst of cheery notes and tones, you almost dropped the stacks of books in your hands, cursing a little as it vibrated in rhythm in the back pocket of your jeans. When the call persisted after the usual three rings signalling a cold caller or market salesperson, you sighed. 

Shifting the books to one arm, you fished the phone out before it could go to voicemail, wondering just who would be calling you so urgently at this time of the day. The question didn’t linger for long, though, as your eyes widened at the caller across the front of the screen. 

‘Velaris Young-Education Prepatory School’.

A ridiculously fancy name for an elementary school, you thought it every time you saw the name, and yet right now, your heart skipped a beat as you pressed answer. Bringing it to your ear as you shuffled the books in your arms more, you lowered yourself down from the ladder carefully. 

“Hello?”

“Oh, hello! Is this Nyx’s mother, (Y/N)? It’s V-Y-E Prep.”

The woman on the phone sounded somewhere between relieved and panicked, and your heart leapt into your throat a little at her tone. “Well, yes, that’s me, but-”

“Oh, good, we weren’t able to get in touch with dad, I was worried I wouldn't be able to get a hold of either of you.” She cut you off before you had a chance to finish, your lips clamping shut as she let out a sigh of a laugh. “I’m Nyx’s class teacher, but he’s had a little bit of an accident today, do you think you’d be able to come and pick him up from the reception?”

Your heart felt like it stopped in your chest entirely. “An accident, what kind of accident, is he okay?” 

“Oh, he’s fine! He had a fall during playtime, and he bumped his head. There’s a mark, and a scratch we’ve cleaned up, but he’s understandably a little shocked and upset. We know dad can get… concerned,” 

Understatement of the century, you wanted to butt in, because Rhys was more than just concerned. He was overprotective, in an endearing way, but he tended to freak out over the smallest things. Then again, it didn’t help when teachers said things like ‘accident’ when it’s not so serious. Perhaps it was a good thing that they got you, not him. 

“So, we thought we’d give you a ring, and see if you could pick him up?”

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. You still had four hours left of your shift, and you felt terrible just ducking out, even if the store was dead, excluding the few people idling over lukewarm coffees in the connected café. “Sure, yeah, of course. I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Wonderful, we’ll see you then.”

The line clicked dead, your eyes sliding shut as you let out a slow breath. You could have just said no, that voice in your head taunted, he’s not your child to fret over. And yet, the thought of his sad face lingered in your mind, triggering all those maternal instincts inside of you and sending them into overdrive.

“Sounds urgent.” Somehow, despite walking with a cane and always wearing heeled boots that clicked on the floorboards, Margaret had managed to sneak up on you. When you turned, the seventy-something-year-old was standing with a smile on her face behind you, eyeing the phone in your hand. 

“I’m sorry, Margie. It’s Nyx’s school.” You grimaced, lips pressing together into a thin line. She only laughed lightly, waving a frail hand idly in the air as if to bat the moment away.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I know what it’s like to have your child’s school call you up in the middle of the day.” Her smile only widened, her eyes glazing over a little. “Our Tommy was a terrible little troublemaker, I had constant calls about his behaviour. And our Jenny, well, she was the clumsiest kid you ever saw. Tripped over thin air.”

A wistful sigh escaped her, and your lips flicked up at the edges. You’d met both Thomas and Jennifer, lovely people, but just as she’d described. Jennifer seemed even more prone to bad timing than you, and Thomas had turned all that troublesome energy into bad flirting and a heated temper. 

“You do what you have to for your kids.” She’d finished her recollections, her voice snapping you from your own, and you could only nod.

“I know, but he’s not my kid. Not biologically, or in any way that matters. It’s not the same, and-”

“Hon, if I’ve ever seen a mother, it’s you to that little boy.” Her words made a lump in your throat that was impossible to speak around, a quick flash of emotion swelling up that you were quick to fight against, but the sparkle in her eyes told you she’d seen in. “He may not have your genes, but he’s yours. So, go get your son. The store will still be here when you come back on Monday.”

“Are you sure-”

“Don’t make me force you out of this door.” She tapped her cane at your feet, just close enough that you could feel the floorboards vibrate under the harsh taps, a wordless threat, and a grin broke out on your lips to hide the blush on your cheeks. 

“Alright, I’ll see you Monday, then.”

She gave a curt nod, and you were flying through the store. Grabbing your bag and coat from the backroom on the way, you were out of the back door and at your car in less than a full minute. Only when you’d put your bags onto the seat and checked the car seat permanently attached to the back of the car did you get into your own seat.

How you’d gotten to this point, you had no idea. It hadn't been your intention four years ago when you’d first met baby Nyx, to end up with a box of his things in your trunk for emergencies, a child seat of your own in the back of the car and your name registered as a parental contact. Yet, as you stared, twisting to look at it and brushing your fingers over the fabric, you didn’t have a single regret about it. 

In fact, only a smile pulled at your lips as you thought about him. Him, and his father. Rhysand had been your best friend for many years, and his baby only seemed to bring you closer. You’d never have wished Nyx’s mother to have abandoned him, you loathed the woman every day for what she did to them both, but it had created a space in their lives that you’d somehow patched a part of up. 

When Rhys had needed support and guidance, you’d been there.

Now, you’d be there for Nyx, too.

As you started the car, flicking a glance back to check the mirrors on the seat were still aligned, Margie’s words flickered through your mind. 

If I’ve ever seen a mother, it’s you to that little boy.

They lingered on your mind for the entire drive, hanging over you like a cloud on an April day, unsure if it was going to rain, or simply pass by. Until you were parked outside of the school, hands still clenched tightly on the steering wheel as you stared up at the tall glass entryway only a few paces away. You couldn't see Nyx yet, not with the doors on the other side that truly sealed off the building, but you could make out figures and shapes on the other side.

Your eyes moved to the clock, the digit clicking over another number, and your fingers felt numb when you finally released them from the wheel. With another sigh, you released all thoughts about mothers and genes and Rhys. 

One day, perhaps, you’d confront them. Today wasn’t going to be it.

Stepping out of the car and swinging the door shut behind you, you didn’t even bother to lock it, as you took a slow jog up the main pathway before the school. The doors hissed open automatically before you, the smell of fresh cotton coming from the air freshener in the corner of the office, and the receptionist behind the desk looked borderline bored as she glanced up. 

“Hi, um- Hi. I’m here for Nyx.”

Her eyes widened a little, looking significantly more interested now as she took your name, and called through to the classroom. The thought almost amused you, had you not been so concerned. Rhys had quite the representation around here, the big checks and hefty donations gained him and Nyx quite the special treatment, one that clearly seemed to pass onto you, too. 

The doors to the school buzzed open a second later as the magnetic locks released, and you stepped through. Sitting in one of the large plush chairs lined up along the wall of the office was Nyx, looking utterly swamped as his feet swung in the air, head bowed and hands clutching tightly to his backpack in his lap. 

At the scuffing of your shoes, his head snapped up, eyes wide and hopeful, turning to relieved as he saw you. He dropped his bag to the floor, moving to slide out of the chair but you were faster, dropping down to kneel before him. Up close, you could see more, enough to break your heart. 

His eyes were red, cheeks pink, tear-marks tracked into the smears of playground dirt and classroom muck on his face. When you brushed the edge of his inky hair back from his forehead, it was to reveal a cut across his forehead to his temple, bumped and bruised, growing into a lump on his head. His bottom lip wobbled, eyes growing shiny again. 

“Oh, Nyxie, did you get hurt?”

“Yeah…” His voice trembled as he spoke, sniffling lightly and wiping at his cheeks with his sleeve. Patting his hair down once again, you tried to choke back the emotions clogging in your throat as a tall shadow fell across the both of you. With a glance, you confirmed that it was his teacher, looking more than a little nervous as she watched you take in Nyx for yourself. 

“We just have some forms for you to sign, and I can tell you a little more about his injury, and then you’re good to go.” At your nod, she let out a heavy breath, wiping her hands down subtly on her skirt.

“Nyxie, I’m just going to go sign some forms for you, okay? Do you want to wait here?” He shook his head, eyes widening a bit as his little hand clamped down onto your arm, gripping tightly and shuffling across the seat closer to you. “You want to come with us?”

“Can I have cuddles?” His voice was low and shy, your heart swelling a little more. 

“C’mere.” Opening your arms up for him, his damp cheek fell to your shoulder, nose tucking sweetly into your neck, and you scooped him up, his legs dangling on either side of your body as he slumped against your chest happily. Standing up with a little more effort than usual, Nyx’s hands patted idly over your knitted jumper, body bouncing with each step you took to follow her inside of the office. 

The forms were already laid out, four to be signed, and she pushed the first one over to you. “This one is just to state you acknowledge the injury, the second is a copy for you, because dad requested always having a copy of forms.” Her cheeks flushed with a little colour, the edges of your lips flicking up at Rhys’ quirks. “The third is just an injury form, that you know we’ve given you all the information, and you’re satisfied. The fourth, another copy.”

You quickly signed your name on the first two, pushing one over to her and keeping the other on your side. The pen hovered over the paper of the third, your fingers clenching a little on it, eyes flicking over the page. “What did happen, exactly?”

“Well, uhm…” You rubbed a hand over Nyx’s back, a soft affirmation that you appreciated how patiently he was waiting. Putting on a smile, you tried to put the woman at ease, not having meant to sound quite so… pissed. 

“I know kids have accidents, I didn’t mean to sound so… well, let’s just say, be glad I’m the one that picked up the call. Dad can be overprotective.” The boy in your arms giggled a little, and you placed down the pen, using your hand to now cup his head and rub at his hair lightly. 

“He was playing on the climbing equipment. I think he went a little too high, because he couldn't climb down. Another child was trying to help him, but before anyone could get over to him once we realised he was stuck, he fell off.” Her voice was a lot more confident now, and you were glad you’d been able to ease just a little of that tension. “I can take you out to the equipment and show you what happened, if you’d like?”

“That won’t be necessary.” You grabbed for the pen again, signing both pages, and she pulled one over towards her files as you gathered the other two. 

“Nyx was so brave, weren’t you, huh?” She swiped a finger over his cheek as she passed by to get the door for you again, and he nodded slowly against your body. “And he was so excited when he found out his mommy was coming to get him.”

There was that word again, all of those thoughts coming swarming back in a dizzying rush as you followed her. A hot blush settled on your cheeks, your mouth opening to correct her, before Nyx’s hands were bunching in your jumper as he let out another little giggle, making your lips snap closed again. He hid his face deeper in your shoulder. 

Stooping down to pick up his bags, his teacher placed it over your arm, swinging as you gripped paperwork in one hand and Nyx in the other. “I put all of his schoolwork in his bag. We’ll see you again tomorrow, Nyx!”

She held the door open for you, waving her goodbye as she watched you go, the receptionist looking far more alert now than she had earlier, smiling widely as the two of you left, and you could feel their gazes on you all the way to the parking lot. 

Putting down the paperwork and his bag on the top of the car, you opened it up, leaning in to settle him was like muscle memory now. No longer an awkward act but a practised one, as he slid from your arms and into the chair. Fastening the belt across his middle, you did the ones over his shoulders.

Eyes that were the same incredible shade of near-violet as his father’s were watching you, a ridiculously adorable smile on his face as you leaned in to press a kiss to the uninjured side of his forehead. Tucking his bags on the other side of him, you checked all his straps, not realising you were frowning yourself until his little fingers pinched at your nose. 

“Got a nose!” He whispered excitedly, waving his fingers in a way that was supposed to mock his uncle’s, the way Cassian would always tease that he’d ‘stolen Nyx’s nose’ to cheer him up. When you smiled at him, he pushed his hand back against your face, giggling to himself as he continued to imitate his uncle. “You can have it back!”

“Well, thank goodness for that!” You teased, rubbing over the bridge of your nose and taking him in. Once you were happy with his safety, you closed the door, taking only the paperwork with you and folding them in half, tucking them into the glovebox of the car for safekeeping. When the car turned on, your fingers went to the radio, and a single button pressed had some of Nyx’s favourite songs pouring from the speakers as the kiddie-CD in the player came to life. “We’ll go and see your daddy now, hopefully, he won’t be too upset about your head.”

The boy only hummed to his song, leaning to stare out of the window, breath fogging it up and one hand resting on the windows he watched his school be left behind. “Daddy will be angry with us?”

For all the fresh set of worries now swirling inside of your head at Rhys’ reaction, you’d never considered how Nyx would interpret your words. “Oh, no, of course not, baby. Never us. We make daddy smile, not frown!”

Reaching behind yourself as you came to a stop at the red lights, you squeezed at his knee lightly, retracting it only when the light went yellow. Another few minutes of quiet went past, the roads clear for the middle of the day as you drove, and Nyx was happily taking in all of the Velaris scenery as you passed by. 

From the small town outskirts and into the city centre, it was when you were almost there that Nyx stopped singing and decided to speak again. 

“I heard daddy tell Uncle Azzy on the phone that you make him smile like nobody else ever has.”

Your eyes widened, your foot nearly slamming onto the brake a little too hard as you turned a corner, and Nyx went back to singing his song. Your heart was picking up speed in your chest, the traitorous organ fuelled on hope reacting in a way you tried to resist. Your head was empty, it took a full minute to form your response, and you gave out a croaky laugh. “Were you being cheeky and listening to your dad’s private phone calls again?”

“No!” His voice sounded indignant, but with a look cast in the mirror onto him, you could see the cheeky smirk on his face. “He answered it at dinnertime! I got to say hi to Uncle Azzy. He’s in a whole different country right now, did you know that?”

You could only smile at the excitement in his voice as he spoke all about Azriel’s current escapades in Spain, or at least, the version that was completely safe and child-friendly. Soon, though, his distraction was over, and he was circling back to a topic you had hoped he’d forgotten.

“Daddy loves you. He told Uncle Azzy. And Uncle Cass, and Auntie Mor.”

“Well, now I know you’re telling me fibs.” Releasing your hand from the gearstick at the next red light, you reached it behind you, tickling at his tummy until he laughed loudly and kicked his legs, slapping at your hands weakly as he wriggled in his chair. “He would never tell Uncle Cass about his feelings, because Uncle Cass would tease him!”

“I’m not telling fibs, I’m not!” He gasped the words between breaths, face growing red, and you almost forgot you were sitting at the lights until a car honked behind you, forcing you to pull away. His laughter died down as the car started again, but he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “He did tell him. He said that he loves you, and he thinks that you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world.”

Your lips pursed, your heart betraying you once again, stomach joining as butterflies erupted until you felt lightheaded, and the weight of his stare on the back of your head was obvious without you even needing to turn. 

In a far less sure voice now, “Do you love daddy?”

You had no idea how to answer that question. You’d known he’d get curious about your friendship with his father soon, you’d just been foolish and selfish enough to hope it was his father that he asked, and so you wouldn't have to handle it. 

Of course you loved Rhysand, but that didn’t make it easy to explain. 

Rhys could never know, the wound of Feyre running away with Tamlin and abandoning Nyx was sure to still be raw, Rhys hadn't been on a date in four years, and if this conversation had confirmed anything, it was that Nyx wasn’t the best secret-keeper. 

Your words had to be chosen carefully.

“Your daddy is my best friend, so, yes. I do love him.” You thought you’d done well, until Nyx made a non-committal sound, another question all ready to go. 

“Does he make you smile?”

“Yes.” Your teeth gritted, the looming office building of the company HQ filling the sky as you pulled up to the security box, not even needing to roll the window down before the gates were buzzing open for you.

“And, do you think he’s the prettiest man in the whole wide world?” His arms flew as wide as they could, and you ignored how endearing it was, choosing a parking spot instead and focusing on your alignment. 

“He’s very pretty, Nyx. Just like you.”

“Then why can’t you be my mommy?” That question felt like a punch to the gut, the car shutting off, silence filling the cabin around you as the engine stopped and the singing CD paused. He was waiting, playing with his fingers and staring at you when you turned to face him. His eyes were wide, confused, and you hated that he felt that way.

“Let’s clean up your face, huh? You’re all dirty.” The words were pathetic, you hated yourself, because avoiding his question meant avoiding your own. You were taking the coward's way out, pulling two wipes from the packet in the dash to wipe at his face. He stayed silent, lips pursed in an unhappy pout, but he didn’t push it. The next time he spoke, it was as you were unclipping him from his car seat and lifting him towards the ground. 

“No, no, no.” He clung to you more, jutting out his lip and putting on puppy eyes he knew worked every time. “More cuddles?”

If it kept him effectively distracted, that was more than enough. Settling him in your arms and locking the car this time, the two of you set off towards the building, Nyx babbling in your ear about everything he could see around him so far.

Upon entering the lobby, his chatter cut off, head lifting from your shoulder to wave excitedly at the assistant behind the main desk. Long ago, you’d felt insecure stepping into this building in nothing but your jeans and a hoodie as everyone else wore dresses and suits and polished heels. Now, even as the elegant woman stood in her pencil skirt to lean over the counter to greet him, you felt at home. “Hi, Ana!”

“What are you doing here in the middle of the day, little mister?” 

He only laughed, leaning out proudly to wave at her, and a new receptionist you didn’t recognise. “We’re here to see Daddy!”

She offered a knowing smile when you pushed his hair back just enough to show off the growing bruise, and turning to the intern beside her. “Take them up to the boss, and let him know.”

With a shaky smile and a polite introduction, she led your group over to one of the elevators, Nyx pulling faces and giggling over your shoulder at Ana the whole time. The ride up to the top floor consisted of Nyx counting the numbers off loudly, tickling them off on his fingers until he couldn't count anymore, and the doors chimed open at level twenty-six.

Guiding the both of you toward the boardrooms, you stopped outside of Rhys’ preferred meeting room, the one with ‘the good coffeepot’ he claimed, a smile flickering on your lips as you spotted his silhouette through the frosted glass while she knocked at the door.

As she entered, you could hear his voice pouring out, the back end of a speech on this year's profit margins that he’d practised on you a hundred times before today, only going quiet as all attention fell to her. “Sir, your wife and son are here.”

Your brows rose at her wording, still sitting high on your forehead as Rhys appeared, closing the door behind him and dismissing her thankfully. Left alone, his gaze flickered over you both, an emotion you still didn’t understand settling on his face when Nyx sat up in your arms, still cuddled against you. 

“Hi, daddy! I got a bump on my head, look!” Pushing his hand over his hair, he moved his fringe out of the way, Rhysand’s eyes going comically wide as he stepped closer to get a look at it. “I fell off the climbing frame!”

His frantic gaze swept to you as he ran a thumb over his son’s forehead, the other hand settling on your hip subconsciously, but all your attention seemed to fix on the way his thumb swept over your waist in a matching way. 

“I took care of it all, don’t worry.” You mustered the best smile you could, getting a whiff of his expensive work cologne when he dipped down to press a kiss to the same spot you had when tucking Nyx into the car. He examined the cut a little more, frowning at the mark on his son’s face, and you wanted to say something, to reassure him, to quash the thoughts about being a bad father that you knew were flying through his head. Before you could speak, though, he was acting once again.

He nodded, seeming to have already fought the war inside his own mind, and if the way his shoulder’s slumped from their tightened position, he’d won this one. Leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead too, your breath caught in your throat at the intimate brush of his lips over your skin. Rhysand had always been affectionate, this part of your friendship was nothing new, but somehow, it had become so much more than a flirty comment or wink. Your eyes fluttered shut, pressing selfishly into that hint of affection as it dragged on just a second too long, warmth coating your cheeks when he pulled back. 

“Give me five minutes to finish this meeting up, wait in my office.” His attention moved to his son. “You can get one toy out, just one.”

At the mention of the toy-box tucked away in the back corner of the office, Nyx’s face lit up, hands clapping together excitedly, and Rhys chuckled at him. “Do you need anything?”

“We’ll be fine.” You’d been to his office more times than you could count, knowing the building like the back of your hand. “Go finish up, gods know you didn’t make me suffer through your rehearsals a thousand times just to mess it all up now.”

He only smirked, adjusting his blazer and ruffling his son’s hair, cautious of his injury. “I’ll be with you soon, darling.” Before you could respond, he was placing a quick kiss on your cheek, and backing away and returning to work, the door closing behind him. 

When you stared at his empty space a little too long, Nyx let out an impatient sigh. “I want to play with the racing cars, darling.”

“Hey, now, cheeky! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were feeling absolutely fine, and perhaps I should take you back to school!” 

Nyx burst out into more laughter, shaking his head and clinging to you. Even if his movements did make it harder to carry him, you didn’t care, grinning at the enthusiasm and excitement on his face. As soon as you had the office door open, he was squirming in your arms to get down, racing over to the box in the corner the second his feet were touching the floor. 

Tearing off the lid, you flicked the light on, shutting the door and frowning as he began to pile toys up all along the floor. “Nyx, your dad just told you only one toy. Pick one, put the rest back.”

“But the cars all count as one, I have to get the whole set out!”

“Nope. You know that’s not how it works.” He scowled, but remained silent, making a point of pulling out the black truck with flames on the wheels, the one you hated, because it made terrible sound effects of grating engines and monster trucks. Piling the rest of the toys back inside haphazardly, the lid remained off the box, and he switched the volume up, glancing at you as he did. You only granted him a sigh, collapsing down into the plush leather chair of Rhysand’s desk.

Five minutes of watching Nyx push the truck around the floor and over every surface as he made car sounds himself soon slipped into ten. He changed toys to a small fluffy dog, and at fifteen minutes, an action figure. Just as he was setting up for his meeting with the plastic army man, Rhys appeared at the door, tugging his tie loose and smiling when you straightened in his chair. 

Tucking the tie down into his suit pocket, he circled the desk, eyeing Nyx on the floor, who didn’t even bother to look up from his life-or-death mission. Taking a seat in one of the cushioned meeting chairs on the other side of the desk, he turned a questioning gaze to you, raising an eyebrow.

“He climbed too high on the climbing frame at school, and slipped when another kid tried to help him down. He got all checked out by the school first aid, he’s totally fine. No dizziness or headaches or nausea, nothing wrong. Just a bruise and a bump.” It didn’t stop Rhys from worrying, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as his gaze moved back to his joyfully-distracted son. “Rhys.”

He didn’t look up, biting down on that lip harder. With one hand, he popped free the button on his collar, and the one below, taking a deep breath. 

“Rhysand.” With a firmer tone, you managed to gain his attention, a reluctant stare shifting to you, and you held your hands out across the desk, palms up. Wiggling your fingers, he placed one hand in both of yours, sighing sadly at the look on your face as you squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Nyx is fine, I made sure of it. I checked him out myself, signed the forms after reading them, and I’ve been keeping an eye on him. Look at him. He’s perfectly okay.”

“I’m sorry you had to leave work.” He whispered, ashamed gaze trailing to your joined hands, the edges of his lips barely flickering as you smoothed your thumbs over his knuckles. He squeezed a little harder, tugging a little closer, ensuring you weren’t letting go just yet. You’d had no intention to, anyway.

Tugging on your hands a little more, he guided you around the desk, back to your feet until you were standing before him, between his knees, and he could tip forwards to brace his head against your ribs. He still held tight to one of your hands, running his fingers over your skin now, but you managed to fight one hand free. With it, you patted his hair softly, smoothing over it until he let out a shaky but light breath. 

“Thank you.”

“You know I’d do anything for you two. Absolutely anything, you have nothing to thank me for, or say sorry for.” He only nodded, tipping his head up enough that the tip of his nose dragged over your skin, until his chin was propped there instead, glancing up at you.

“Not true, I’m thankful for you every single day.”

You willed your body not to react, not to give you away, other than the small smile you offered him, settling with your hand on the nape of his neck for a second. It was intimate, romantic, far too much for friendship, and the sudden flash of thought made your spine stiffen, and your hand retract down to sit safely on his shoulder instead. “Rhys?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Why does Nyx’s school have me listed as his mother?”

He blinked, once. “What?”

“When they called, they asked me if I was his mom, and I never got a chance to correct her before she was telling me everything. Then when I got there, she said it again.”

He was silent for a moment, before sitting up once again, disentangling himself from you and putting on an easy-going smile to match his shrug as he slumped back into the seat. “I have no idea. Maybe she just got confused, or forgot.”

“Okay…” You gave only a moment's pause, leaning yourself on the edge of the desk beside you, and crossing your arms. “Well, why does your receptionist think I’m your wife?”

“She’s new.” The words rolled off of his tongue so fast it was like he’d planned them, your brows shooting up a little. “I mean, you come in here carrying Nyx, and what else would she know?”

Despite his casual demeanour, a soft layer of pink tinged those tan cheeks, so faint you’d hardly notice it if you weren’t so good at reading him. His eyes studied you for a second, a deep look as he stared, gaze taking you in just as much as you seemed to take him in. There was a lull, a pause, like so many moments lately where the air seemed positively charged between you both, lingering on an adrenaline-filled precipice and just waiting for something to happen.

Rhys broke it, just a second before it would have become too much for you, too. Clearing his throat, he caught Nyx’s attention. “Why don’t we go and get some ice-cream, buddy? Put the toy away and we can go right now.”

“Before dinner?” The child’s eyes widened, throwing the army man into the box without a care for the way he slammed off of the wall, all love gone now at the mention of ice-cream. Clicking the lid back into place, you watched them interact in a daze, the joking and chatter becoming background noise. 

You’d never given yourself a chance to think before, too scared to get your heart broken and to lose them both, but a small flame of hope in the back of your heart had been steadily growing bigger and brighter, and it was starting to become hard to ignore. 

Only when a small hand slipped into yours did you snap out of it, Nyx swinging happily with one hand in yours and the other in his father’s, telling him all about the school work he’d done as Rhysand grabbed for his briefcase and coat. Once he’d acquired them, you were on the move, trailing through the building in much the same way, swinging Nyx between your bodies and letting him bounce excitedly at the prospect of frozen sugar before a healthy meal. 

As you wandered through the lobby, you took stock of yourselves, noting just how much the three of you really did resemble a family. The receptionist would be right to assume, simply from what it looked like. And, even if the teacher did know you hadn't been, from the number of mornings you’d dropped Nyx at school or picked him up at the end of the day, it could easily be misread as merely a development in a complicated relationship. 

Perhaps, it was nothing more than a misunderstanding, and Rhys was right. 

The butterflies in your stomach died down to a heavy weight. One of both relief, and disappointment you refused to acknowledge, the hot flush of anxiety cooling into a steady calm, and you were finally able to take a deep breath once again as you reached the car.

“We just need to grab his bag and forms from my car, and-”

“You’re not coming for ice-cream?” Rhys’ head snapped up from where he’d been looking down at his son, brows furrowing at you, and Nyx fell silent, turning to stare up with an identical look of confusion. 

“You don’t like ice-cream?” He echoed in his father’s tone, the two were far too alike for your good, and Nyx was nothing if not a clone of his father. One silver lining had always been that Nyx seemed to be 99% Rhys, only getting 1% from his mother. It was the smattering of freckles over his nose that only came out in the summer.

“Of course, I like ice-cream.” You tapped at the tip of Nyx’s nose and he beamed.

“So, you’re gonna’ come with us, then?” Your gaze moved from him, to Rhys, whose brows only furrowed further. 

“What’re you lookin’ at me for? You know you’ve always got a place with us. Frankly, if you decided to move in tomorrow, I wouldn't bat an eye.”

Your eyes rolled, and when you were looking back at him, he was grinning. “What about my car?”

“I’ll drive you back here to get it.”

“What about work?” You motioned to the building behind you, and he opened his car door, motioning for Nyx to hop up into the back. 

“I own the company, I can take off an afternoon to be with the people I care about.”

“What about-” He leaned in close enough that your noses almost brushed, a smirk forming on his lips at the hitch in your breath, cutting off your words.

“Shut up, get in the car, and let me take my family for ice-cream.”

You couldn’t breathe, never mind form a response, that word ricocheting through the inside of your skull like a bullet. Nudging you to the side, Rhys opened the passenger door, motioning you too, until you were sinking into the spacious car and letting him close the door behind you. 

By the time he’d strapped in his son and gotten into the car himself, you’d regained your calm and your ability to speak. “You’re bossy.”

“I’m the boss.”

“Not in this car, you’re not.” You muttered under your breath, his chuckle only dulled by the purr of the engine as the SUV roared to life. Setting the car into gear, he cast a cheeky look in your direction. 

“Oh, I know. You’ve been calling the shots here since the day I met you, and I’m just fine with that.”

He settled a hand on your knee, innocently enough, after turning on kid’s songs to match your car to keep Nyx happy. He never flinched, never even glanced at his hand on you, like it was the most normal and natural thing in the world. The scariest part, was that it felt exactly that way to you, too.

Nothing about it seemed wrong, or off, and the longer you stared at his hand, the more you wanted to take it. To lace your fingers together, set your hands in your lap after kissing his knuckles. Despite your attempts to push it down, it was seeming more and more like your ignorance of your situationship with Rhysand was making itself known.

It didn’t make sense. You were perfect together, in every other way, so why had he never made a move in this way? The spike of confused pain through your chest stung like a needle through the heart.

The drive to the ice-cream parlour didn’t give you much time to think, everything today was too fast, not enough time to think or clear your head. Before you knew it, you were pulled to a stop, Rhys climbing from the car to release his son who was practically tearing out of his car-seat to get to his favourite dessert store. He could have done with the run, the walk, anything to burn off some of that energy, but Rhys scooped him up into his arms, pressing several kisses to his son’s head, who only moaned and pushed at his father’s head.

He didn’t want kisses, he wanted sprinkles.

Too bad Rhys was beating himself up again about it all. Freeing yourself from the car to alleviate his worries, you squeezed his arm as you stepped out, shooting him a look to tell him that Nyx was more than okay. “One bumped head does not make you the world’s worst dad. Kids have accidents all the time, but look how happy he is right now.”

He didn’t need to look, shuffling his son to his hip and reaching out for your hand instead as he nodded. Lifting it up, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before lacing your fingers together.

There was a bell tinkling over your head as Rhysand guided you into the cold store, looking for all the world, once again, like a real family, and you allowed yourself a few selfish seconds to eat it up. Finally, Nyx gained his freedom, darting over to the large glass display cabinet and plastering himself to the front of it as he took in all the flavours available today.

By the time the two of you had reached the front of the queue, he’d seemingly made up his mind, turning to stare at you both with a look on his face that could only mean trouble. 

“You pick what you want, bud?”

Rhys’ cautious tone meant he’d picked it up too, his hand squeezing a little tighter around your own when you chuckled, cutting you a glare as Nyx rolled on the balls of his feet and nodded. “I want the chocolate fudge, two scoops,” He held up two small fingers, for emphasis. “With chocolate sauce and the little fudge-chunk sprinkles.”

The woman behind the counter only laughed, staring down at him adoringly as he placed his hands on his hips, expectantly. Rhys’ eyes widened, his head shaking a little. “How about vanilla, with strawberry sauce, and rainbow sprinkles?”

“Ew, yucky, no.” Nyx’s face crumpled, and Rhysand’s jaw dropped, glancing from his son to you, and back. 

“It was your favourite last time.”

“But, this time my favourite is chocolate fudge with chocolate sauce and fudge chunks, Daddy!” Nyx stated it like it was obvious, and you tugged on your connected hands to bring an indignant Rhys’ attention to you. 

“Oh, let him have his chocolate-fudge extravaganza, he bumped his head.” Rhys’ only scowled, muttering under his breath about being ‘ganged up on’, before nodding to the woman behind the till but indicating for only one scoop. 

“You’re putting him to bed when he gets a sugar rush.” Was all Rhys could snipe back with, a smile forming on your lips against your control once again, letting him lead you over to the display stand as Nyx watched his ice-cream being constructed with rapt attention. Turning from the cabinet to you, he nudged his nose lightly against your temple, a feeling that had blood rushing to your cheeks and your head spinning at the intimacy. “The usual?”

“Yeah.” Your voice broke a little as you spoke the single syllable, and had you been capable of speaking properly at the time, you were sure you’d have been a little more embarrassed about it. 

“One raspberry victoria-sponge chunk ice-cream with, two scoops, and one triple-scoop rocky road.” He added to the order, the woman only nodding, piling them up on top of the counter as Nyx tried to reach for his, sparkles in his eyes as he stared at his sickly-sweet monstrosity in awe. 

Lifting it down for him, you stuck a wooden spoon into the cardboard cup holding it, a soft ‘thank you’ tumbling from his lips as he accepted it, cradling the pot patiently in his hands like it was a rare treasure. You remembered the same look being on Rhys’ face when he’d first held his son, the same tender and gentle astonishment, the shock in his eyes at something so special. You could only smile. 

“Darling,” Rhys tugged on your arm, your head snapping up from Nyx to look at him, only to find both his eyes and the servers on you. You hummed, brows raising, and watching Rhys balancing two ice-cream cones in his hand. “I said, can you get my wallet? It’s in my jacket pocket, your side.”

“Oh! Right, sure.” Twisting to him, he smoothed his thumb over your hand in silent appreciation as you rooted around the inside of his pocket, fingers brushing across worn black leather, and pulling it free. 

You were more than familiar with Rhys’ money and his cards, he often handed you a small fold of notes or one of his shiny cards whenever you took Nyx out or needed to buy something, refusing to ever let you pay, but you rarely held the whole wallet.

Flipping it open, your eyes scanned over the folds inside to search for the right card, but your gaze snagged on the fold of an image inside. Pinned lightly behind clear plastic, the image preserved perfectly, was a picture of you and Nyx. You remembered the moment clearly, you’d been out with the whole family, one of the rare moments that Azriel had been home at the same time Mor was back from travels and Cassian had a day off. Amren even freed the day up to sit in the park with you all, celebrating Nyx’s third birthday. Mor had been on her Polaroid camera hype, and you didn’t even know she’d snapped this picture. 

Nyx’s hands were on your face, pushing your sunglasses on upside down after he’d finished playing with them. He was stood between your legs, the sundress you’d worn that day still had small stains from the muddy bottoms of his shoes, but the smile on his face that was caught in the picture was worth it. You rubbed a hand over the plastic protecting it, treasuring that day with all of your heart, and uncovering Rhys’ writing at the bottom as you did.

‘My loves’.

“Darling, the purple card. C’mon, the ice-cream is getting warm.” He nudged you again, Nyx staring pleadingly from the ground below as he clutched his treat, still waiting, and you slipped the purple card out with your thumb. Tapping it against the car reader and being sure to add a tip to compensate for your daydreaming, you slid the card back, sliding the wallet back into his pocket as the three of you found a table.

Just because you could no longer see the picture, didn’t mean it, and, more importantly, the caption, wasn’t seared into your mind. My loves. If he truly felt that way, why hadn't Rhysand ever made a move? It didn’t make sense, you’d been here since before Nyx had even been born, almost a decade of best-friendship and flirty comments that never became anything more, while secretly harbouring a picture of you in his wallet and holding your hand, kissing your forehead and smiling in a way that read as far more than just friends.

You’d barely even settled into the booth before Nyx was digging into his ice-cream, and your hand finally being freed and you were given your cone. Twisting it around and towards yourself, your eyes narrowed a little on the chunk missing from the side, somewhere where an obviously large piece of cake had been pulled out, and your glare turned to Rhys.

“You ate some of my ice-cream?”

“We always share, stop acting so surprised about it.” He grinned, taking a large scoop from his own, and you scowled at him. 

“I hadn't even tried it yet, and you ate the best piece of cake!” He only smirked. 

“Do you want to try my ice-cream?” Nyx offered, and you turned to look at him across the table. His hand was gripping the spoon like he was stirring in a cauldron, the contents inside had been churned up into a gloopy mess, and he held a spoonful of it out to you, chocolate and fudge-covered cheeks stretched in a smile. 

“That’s okay, Nyxie, it’s all for you.” You passed your cone back to Rhys after unwrapping the napkin from around it. “Hold this, and don’t eat any more.”

He nodded dutifully, but eyed another piece of cake hidden within the ice-cream nonetheless, as he ate his own. There was a particularly large piece of dark chocolate with a marshmallow on the side of his own that he’d yet to notice, and you stored that away for revenge. Reaching across the table, you wiped at Nyx’s cheeks, unsure why you’d bothered since he was only going to end up in the same state again soon, but you did your best with the sticky mess anyway.

You gave up when he got ice-cream on your hand too, refusing to pause eating even when you tried to clean him up. Leaving the scrunched-up napkin on the table, his father only chuckled in your ear and handed you your cone back. Turning to him, you held out your other hand. Wiggling your fingers, his face pinched for a second, before he sighed, giving in. He pulled that same face every time, despite being right that you always shared, a victorious smile on your face. 

You made a point of turning the cone, flashing the delicious chunk of chocolate and marshmallow to him, watching his jaw drop to stop you, but not fast enough. Clamping your mouth down around it, you pulled the chunk free, chocolate melting across your tongue as you let out a moan of appreciation.

His eyes flared, leaning in and snatching his cone back, but leaving his face close enough to your own that when you licked over your lips, you almost licked him too. “You’re so cruel to me.”

“Payback is a… well, you know the saying.” You smirked, ensuring not to swear in front of the child across the table from you both, and he only growled a little. His eyes flickered over your face, every spot his gaze touched made your skin burst out with heat, lingering for a moment on your mouth. He smirked, raising a hand, and brushing his thumb along the edge of your mouth as he pulled back a fraction.

“You missed a spot.” He breathed, thumb slipping to settle on your chin instead, and his eyes found yours once again. The air between you both crackled like it never had before, electricity sparking between you both again, but so much more intense. “I, uhm, I’ve been meaning to talk to you lately...”

“Yeah? Well, we never see each other, I can see how it’d be hard to find the time.” You teased, his softly sighed laugh brushing over your face as his gaze held yours. Smoothing his thumb along your jaw until he was cupping your face, it was only when a drop of ice-cream dripped from your cone and onto your finger, the cold sending a jolt through you that made you gasp and snap back. 

Glancing down at it, you winced, licking away any more drops that looked like they may fall, and using Nyx’s napkin to wipe your fingers. When you turned back to Rhys he was facing the table again, eating his ice-cream and acting as though nothing had happened. The bubble was broken, whatever he was going to say he clearly wasn’t planning on anymore, and so you let it pass.

You ate your ice-creams together, conversation steadily flowing onto other topics, far safer ones, no doubt, and you did your best to clean up Nyx’s face once again. Smears of chocolate covered his cheeks, and you knew Rhys would have to scrub it off later before bed. 

The ride back to the office was where you grew to regret convincing Rhysand to allow Nyx’s choice, his sugar rush beginning to kick in at full force. He screamed his songs at the top of his lungs, loud enough to make you both wince as you drove, bouncing chaotically in his seat and threatening to break right out like a miniature beast. 

The hand, now sitting on your lower thigh rather than your knee, squeezed at a particularly loud shriek as he played with the window settings, up and down, up and down. “This is your fault.”

“I know!” You wailed, glancing back at Nyx, who was all but vibrating as he rocked side to side, giggling hysterically to himself. “I figured the sauce would be sugar-free, and fudge isn’t that much sugar, it’s like-”

“It’s half sugar!”

“What?” Your eyes widened a little, turning to look at Rhys with wide eyes, and he contained his laughter as he watched the road, trying to tune out the din from the backseat. “Regardless, I apologise for this.” There would be no calming him now.

Rhys rubbed his hand up and down your thigh softly. “I already told you, that's your problem. You think I’m going to let you go home and leave me with this?”

“I have some very important work to do-”

“Liar.” He called your bluff, and you scowled, turning your glare on his hand as it set warmth firing along all of your nerves. 

When he finally pulled back into the parking lot, it was considerably emptier than it had been when you’d left, and he spun to park across two full spaces into place beside your car. He left the car with a happy sigh, closing the noise that his son was making inside the vehicle, and rolling his neck from side to side. Finally, he opened his son’s side, lifting the boy from his chair and setting him on the concrete, where he immediately began to jump up and down, holding onto his dad’s hand.

The pair accompanied you to your car, retrieving the school bags and taking them back to their own while you gathered the correct forms from the glovebox, meeting him by the back of the SUV that made your car look tiny in comparison. You pressed them into his hands, and he tucked them into the front pocket of Nyx’s bag, setting his son off to put the bags away, who remarkably, did as told.

“I know you said no thanks, but, thank you for today. I mean it, you were so wonderful. You’re always so wonderful, I couldn't do any of this without you.”

“Any time, Rhys. You know that.” He shrugged, hands tucking into the pockets of his smart pants, leaning against the side of the car only a foot away from you.

“I know, but that doesn’t make me any less lucky to have found you, and to get to keep you in my life.” 

Small padding of feet came rushing back, bags no longer in sight but a picture clutched in his hands to be held up in the air as he came to a stop. It was decorated with pieces of glued-on dried pasta, glitter and sequins, and some splatters of paint. The most important part, though, was the drawing at the bottom. 

You’d grown used to his style of drawing now, easily able to pick out what each scribble was supposed to be, or rather, who each scribble was supposed to be, and the attempt at writing underneath. It didn’t matter, though, because he was quick to enthusiastically point it all out. 

“Look, look! It’s us! This is daddy, in purple. And this is you in blue, because it’s your favourite colour. And this is me! I’m wearing a crown.” His chest puffed up proudly, the broken piece of pasta on his head acting like a crown, and you traced the words written in matching colours under each figure. 

Daddy. Nyx. Mommy.

Casting a look up, Rhys was staring at the paper, a horribly crushing mix of longing and pain in his eyes as he stared at it, throat bobbing in a swallow, before he was blinking it away. He’d always been good at playing another role, hiding his feelings when he needed to, but you’d caught him too many times. 

All the pining and want, you’d always assumed it had been for Feyre, for the missing woman who had birthed his son, but when his eyes met yours, the façade cracking just a touch, you allowed yourself to wonder if maybe it was for you. Whatever it was today, this last few months, it was something new. It was like those walls you’d built up were finally crumbling, he was fighting through his own, and he let out a shaky sigh. 

He let Nyx lower the photo, occupied with admiring his artwork. He leaned down, lips finding your cheek and lingering there in a soft kiss. You hooked a finger under his chin, twisting his head up until your noses were brushing, his eyes snapping open wide before you, as your lips brushed lightly. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I was thinking about kissing you.” You whispered, your voice shaking as you second-guessed yourself, second-guessed it all. His hand found your hip, smoothing around to sit on your lower back and tugging you close enough that your chests pressed together, his forehead resting on yours. 

He didn’t pull away, he didn’t stop you, he just gave you your chance to decide. 

So, you did. 

You leaned up, pressing your lips to his in a delicate kiss that set your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies, and drew a soft noise from Rhys as he tightened his hold on you. After only a second of hesitation, he kissed you back, a push and pull with his lips that was as intoxicating as it was grounding. You felt like you were floating, tethered only to him as you gave into a desire you never thought you could have, his lips melding to yours in slow drags. 

It felt like it went on forever, and you were certain that you could easily have stayed there, just like that, for the rest of your life. 

When he let you breathe, when your mouths fell only an inch apart, you wanted to nudge closer to him once again, to seal yourself back to him, to sink into him wholly and entirely and never come apart again. If the tight grip he had on your hip was any indication, Rhysand felt the same way.

The fog cleared after a few moments, and he shifted back some more, eyes fluttering open once again, and this time, they were filled with questions. Swirling in the violet like a storm brewing at dusk, and you lifted a hand, running a finger over his cheek lightly, and smiling when his head tipped into your touch. 

“I’m so telling Uncle Azzy that you kissed Daddy.”

You practically jumped out of your skin, having forgotten about the babbling little boy at your feet, who was now staring up at you both in nothing but shock and smugness, one hand planted on his hip as the picture that had sealed the deal hung limply from the other.

“Daddy and-” You scooped him up before he could even get started into that little riddle, the taunting making your cheeks warm, even if he was only four, and making your way back toward the car. Rhys shuffled along behind you in a silent daze, holding the door open for you and standing by as you tucked Nyx back into his car seat. He never gave up on his childlike-smirk. 

“How about some dinner, huh? A little someone can have his favourite mac n’ cheese.”

“It's me! It’s me!” He cheered happily, and you took the opportunity while his arms were raised to strap the belt around his waist, sealing him back into the chair as his arms strapped through the other two. “I’m calling Uncle Azzy tonight. And Uncle Cassie.”

“You do that, Nyxie.” You bopped the end of his nose, switching on the small TV set that was attached to the headrest to face his way, and watching it load up. You could feel Rhys’ stare burning into you, like a fire crawling along your skin, impatient and needy and desperate for answers, making you grateful for this small distraction as you scrolled the shows on the tablet.

Like a warning, a warning not to make him wait much longer, Rhys settled one large hand over your hip, squeezing tightly and tugging you a fraction out of the car towards him, a shiver travelling down your spine. You hit play on the first show up. 

Backing out of the car to close the door, you didn’t get far, Rhys didn’t move, only pulling your body back into his with the grip on your waist, slamming the door shut for you and leaving you pressed to him. In a quick spin, he had your back pressed to the cold metal of the car, out of sight of his son and closed in by your own, the cold metal making for a relieving contrast to the heat. 

“Do it again.” There was a pleading note to his voice, his sights fixed entirely on your mouth now as he bit down on his lower lip, his forehead coming to rest on yours. “Kiss me again.”

You took your time, teasing him just a little, by running your hands up his arms, over his shoulders as he tensed, until you were holding his face. He sagged closer to you, like he couldn't even hold himself up anymore, pinning you between his body and the car. With a sweep of your thumbs over his cheeks, his eyes closed, noses brushing in sweet motions until he gave an aggravated breath at the waiting.

At long last, you gave in, closing the gap between you both once again. This time, he let out a soft moan when your mouths connected. He kissed like a man starved, like a man who had waited every moment of his life for this. It was like your first taste of air after being underwater, his mouth insistent and unrelenting, like he was memorising the way it felt to kiss you.

You gave him all you had, committing every part of him to memory too. Every sound he made, the way he panted against your lips before diving back in, teeth scraping your lower lip and sucking softly, before following it with a sharp nip. He ruined everyone else, no kiss you’d ever had compared to this and nothing else ever would. 

When his tongue smoothed over your lower lip, you were forced to pull back, to try and think somewhat clearly, one of you had to, because if you let this go on anymore, you weren’t sure you could stop. His hand was already shifting, exploring, dragging his fingertips up your spine to tangle in your hair, and you lowered yours to his shoulders, pushing him back just enough to take a breath that didn’t taste like him. 

He groaned, licking over his swollen lips to take away the taste of you, his eyes darker than before when they found you again, and you pressed your lips together to fight temptation. “You should… you should get our boy home.”

At that, he blinked, his gaze softening endlessly at the endearing claim, and his hand let your hair go to slip back to your back. Pulling you closer, he pressed a wet kiss to your cheek, nodding against your temple as he left a kiss there too. When he pulled back, it was to simply stare. There was nothing hidden now, the kind of dumb-in-love look shining in his eyes that you couldn't miss. Had it always been there, and you’d just never seen it before, or had he just stopped hiding it?

“You okay, Rhysie?”

He melted into you at the nickname you rarely brought out, eyes shining as he continued to stare. “So, so very okay, darling.”

Silence lingered between you both, the same comfortable quiet it had been since day one. No matter what, no matter how anxious or nervous or rattling, Rhys always had a way of making you feel at ease. You felt so vulnerable, and yet so safe with him, voice coming out in a whisper to speak into the gap between you both, “Can I ask you a question, Rhys?”

“Are you going to ask me if we can have carbonara with chicken for dinner again?” He teased, putting your nerves even more at ease, or maybe it was for his own, by making a joke. 

You indulged him, “It’s a classic for a reason, because it’s so good. Besides, who said I’m coming for dinner, anyway?”

“You think there’s any way I’m going to be able to let go of you now?” He mumbled, head dropping down to rest on your shoulder instead, and you chuckled, feeling his lips press a soft kiss to your shoulder through your jumper. “What did you really want to ask?”

That brought the nerves back in full force. “Why did nothing ever, y’know, happen between us?”

His head snapped up, eyes widening to look at you, but no words came from his parted lips. 

“Don’t you ever think about it, Rhys? I mean, look at us. There’s so much that would work, and I guess-”

“Of course I think about it.” He breathed the words in a rush, and your jaw snapped shut as words finally began to pour out of him, unrestrained and uncontrolled. “I think about it all the time. Every minute of every day you’re on my mind.”

“Rhys…” He let out a slow breath, but there was no stopping him now. You’d uncorked the bottle, the contents unable to be stopped from spilling. 

“Since the day I met you all those years ago, I knew that I would hold onto you for the rest of my life. I couldn't let you go. But, I was a stupid kid who just inherited a company, and I was terrified of that. I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. You just dropped into my life and filled holes and cracks I didn’t know I had, you made me feel complete. I fell for you, so hard and so fast, and I was so godsdamned scared of that.” He looked away, unable to look at you any longer, and swallowing thickly. 

“So, we became friends…”

“So, we became friends.” He repeated, sighing like he couldn't hold the weight of the world anymore. “I thought, selfishly, that I could hold onto you as my best friend, until I was ready for more. That it would be fine. I was too slow, though, and you started dating Lucien.”

Your mind flickered back, hardly remembering the man you’d been with for only a couple of months almost six years ago, flashes of red hair and tanned skin in your mind recalling it.

“He was good to you, and I hated that. I hated him, but I wanted you to be happy. But, I was so miserable. I was so sickeningly, maddeningly, obviously in love with you, and I had to do something before you noticed. So, I dated Feyre. It wasn’t… we moved too quickly, too fast. I threw myself into it and then she got pregnant. Nyx came along, and she abandoned him. I thought I’d lose you too. I was scared again, but you stayed. You helped with everything, you made it better.” 

His voice started to crack, and so your arms raised, looping around his neck, pulling him in until his forehead was pressed to your own. 

“I wasn’t scared when you were there. You taught me everything, you stayed for every step. I knew within days that you should have been Nyx’s mother, that being with you like this was all I’d ever want, I started to want everything cliché, a white picket fence and a little house of our own and a street where Nyx could learn to ride a bike with us. I mean, I picked out the house you liked best from the viewings even though it was gonna cost so fuckin’ much to renovate and repair and clean, but it was so worth it.” He laughed emptily, and you sniffed back tears.

“I had no idea.”

“I know, I never told you. I wanted you to see your dream house without the guilt.” He rubbed at his nose, and you kissed his cheeks, feeling him smile under your lips as you did, stopping the tears clinging to his lashes from falling. “But, you were still with Lucien, so I settled to take what I could get. If having you as my friend, helping me raise him like this, was all I could ever have, I’d take it. Then, you weren’t, and I thought maybe you’d be heartbroken about your break-up, or sad, and I wanted to give you time. I gave you too much time, I was a coward, I was nothing but a lonely man who already had a son. I couldn't offer you all the things you wanted anymore. I couldn't travel or go out and party or do anything. I’m always working or with my boy, and I didn’t want you to be forced to take that on.”

You were shocked, his candour had left you breathless, and he sniffled lightly, blinking away the tears he was unwilling to let drop. “We broke up because of you.”

“What?” He let himself look up, to you, of all the expectations he’d seemingly braced himself for, this obviously wasn’t it.

“Lucien and I. He- he said, understandably, that it felt strange to have a relationship with a woman who was practically a part of another family. It made him feel like some sort of home-wrecker. He didn’t say it, and he never would’ve, he was a good man, but it was a choice. You and Nyx, or him.” Giving the best smile you could despite the emotions overwhelming you, he matched it with a watery laugh. “I didn’t even have to think about it. That’s why I was never sad.”

“You chose us.”

“I’ll always choose you.” Your smiles were real this time, shared and intimate and frighteningly tender. “So, the real question, is whether you’re still sickeningly, maddeningly in love with me?”

“You forgot ‘obviously’. I can’t believe you don’t know it, I haven’t been subtle. I tell everyone you’re my wife, and let them believe you’re Nyx’s mom.” Your scoff only made him smirk, smacking at his shoulder lightly, pushing him away only to have him grip you tighter, tugging you closer to him. 

“I knew those weren’t ‘little mistakes’, or miscommunications!” He only shrugged, dipping back in, every intention clear as he moved slowly. 

“I intended to tell you today, and so many other times, but I was always so scared of losing you.” The confession hung between you both, the unspoken promises and words as he tried to give you a chance to leave, to back away, to call it too much, but you didn’t. 

You let him kiss you, let him kiss you until your lungs burned for oxygen and your head was spinning, and it felt like hours had passed by as you learned one another’s mouths. You let him kiss you until you were sure he understood that you felt the same, that you always had.

“I still love you. I will always love you. You don’t just get over this kind of love.”

You could only grin at him, cheeks aching but you didn’t care, because you couldn't have contained your happiness even if you’d wanted to. “Good, because it would have been horrible if my feelings were unrequited.”

“Never.” A few more stolen kisses, mumbled promises between them. “So, you’ll follow us home for dinner?”

The leap in your chest at the word home was enough to make you breathless, the knowledge you now had that he’d chosen it just for you, in hopes you’d one day live with them. It was almost too much to bear. “Only if you’re making carbonara. And garlic bread.”

“I’ll make you anything you want if it means you’ll keep kissing me.” You hummed, pressing another peck to his lips before managing to disentangle yourself, despite his complaints and tight hold.

“I’ll see you soon, where we can continue this.”

“Don’t take too long, I’ll miss you too much.” He winked, looking messy and kiss-ruined as you stepped back to fully take him in. His shirt was rumpled, his blazer was a little askew, and his cheeks were flushed red, swollen lips to match. 

He was perfect. 

“Hurry home to us, darling.”

i've got my eye on you | neteyam sully

summary: always in a "will they, won't they" relationship with your best friend neteyam with neither of you willing to admit how you feel, things seem to lean more towards "they won't" when a new na'vi woman enters neteyam's life.

wc: 3.3k

warnings: miscommunication, assumptions, jealousy, some angst, nothing crazy

a/n: neteyam supremacy >>

-

prompt: “you really think i won’t choose you in a heartbeat?” and “would you acknowledge my feelings for you if i kissed you right now? you can’t seem to take a damn hint, y/n.” 

-

from childhood to now, you and neteyam stuck to each other like two peas on a pod. it came naturally, with your parents being close to jake and neytiri and the two of you being closest in age. (neteyam has you beat by a good few months, and he never lets you live it down). learning to hunt together, play dates, dinner at each others’ places — there was never a moment where you went without at least one sully child and vice versa. 

you two preferred each other as children, opting to stick behind and make armbands together rather than chase lo’ak and kiri down some mossy, muddy pathway that would inevitably lead to trouble. it never really mattered in the end, the two of you having to chase down the annoying siblings in the end anyways, but regardless, you’d always choose to be my neteyam’s side first and him, you. 

and it stays true to this day, well into your late teenage years. 

“neteyam, you have to stop taking the blame for lo’ak,” you criticize. you follow behind him as he walks quickly in front of you, clearing foliage out of the way for the pair of you even in his state of anger. “you cover for him, get reamed, and then you’re in a bad mood because of it. it doesn’t benefit anyone, and lo’ak needs to start taking responsibilities for his actions.” growing up with the sullys gave you the freedom to be honest, and because you have just as much care for lo’ak as his brother, you want the younger sully to grow up a little.  

he says nothing, only letting out a huff as he leads you to your secret spot. “lo’ak has it hard enough,” is all neteyam says before plopping down onto the soft blades of grass. he looks up at you with a glare, “why were you with him anyways?” 

you feel your cheeks warm at the question, the flowers you went searching for with lo’ak suddenly weighing a ton in the cloth bag on your hip. “we were looking for something. besides, how was i suppose to know he had ulterior motives and wanted to hunt a strumbeest?” 

“it’s lo’ak!” neteyam complains. “you should’ve known better, what if something had happened to you and i wasn’t there to do something about it?”

his disappointment in you makes your heart clench painfully in your chest. softly, you sit down besides him. bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, your thumb gently rubs his face in apology. 

unable to resist you, he lets out another huff before conceding. wrapping his arms around you, all he does is grumble into the crook of your neck, “just be careful next time.” 

it’s always you and neteyam. it always has been. 

or at least, it should’ve been. how could you account for the day when it suddenly wasn’t? maybe you could say it came sooner than you thought, but the reality was such a day never even crossed your mind. so when you entered the sully’s place the next day, you could barely fathom what occurs. 

“good morning mr. and mrs. sully,” you enter their home. “any crazy plans today?” 

“good morning ma y/n,” neytiri responds lovingly, chopping up fruits for breakfast. jake sits at their make-shift table with lo’ak, polishing some weapons. he doesn’t spare you a glance as he says, “how many times do we have to tell you to call us by our names?” 

“it’s not in my nature, sir,” you chirp. “neteyam around?”

neytiri puts the knife down, turning to you with a hum, “actually, no. he left early this morning. we thought he was going to see you.” 

when you pause, shock evident on your face, jake makes an attempt to fill in the gap. “maybe he’s with another friend?” 

you can’t help but frown at the news, but decide to shake it off. afterall, neteyam is more than allowed to have other friends. secret friends…friends he hasn’t mentioned a word to you about…a nagging in your chest persists, but you do your best to hide it on your face. 

lo’ak laughs. bits of fruit on his face, the younger sully continues to eat as he mumbles, “neteyam doesn’t have other friends.” the jab at his brother lingers in your mind, an unsuspecting sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. 

jake narrows his eyes at lo’ak, mouth agape at the comment but ultimately chooses not to comment on it as it was too early for dad mode. shaking his head, he instead tells you “join us for breakfast, y/n.” 

you take a seat at their table, trying your best to engage in conversation and listen to tuk as she tries to explain her dolls to you, but your mind can’t help but wander to a certain missing sully. even lo’ak’s disgusting slurping didn’t phase you. 

-

you opted to spend the day with your second favorite sully (don’t tell tuk) and hours later, when night has already fallen and you and kiri have done all that you could do for the day, you’re preparing to leave the sully household when something stops you both in your tracks. your own laughter ceases to a stop when an unfamiliar giggle outside catches your attentions. you and kiri pause at the entrance of her home, exchanging confused looks with each other before making the silent decision to eavesdrop and peak outside. 

“thank you for spending the day with me today, vaewai,” neteyam’s voice floated through the home. the grin on his face made an unfamiliar emotion swirl in your chest. kiri’s jaw is dropped, baffled. 

vaewai? as in vaewai te may’a kangti’ite? kiri’s eyes said all they needed, looking at you in complete shock. all you can do is give her a shrug, eyes just as wide. 

what in the world is neteyam doing with the daughter of one of the best hunters of the clan? with one of the best healers of the clan? a million thoughts ran in your head. 

she lets out a soft laugh, “of course, neteyam. anytime.” her melodious voice makes you roll your eyes and kiri slaps your arm, your actions causing her to laugh and potentially blow your cover. 

“no, seriously. i really do appreciate it.” neteyam insists. “i would be so lost without you,” he shakes his head with a laugh. 

“oh…” you’re voice is quiet and you let the word fall out without a thought. the conversation was intimate, and for what seemed to be the hundredth time today, you can’t help but feel a weight in your chest. for some reason, the weight felt better when you didn’t know who neteyam was truly with. 

you stand up, pulling kiri up with you. at the dejected look on your face, kiri parts her lips to provide comfort but you beat her to speaking. “this seems private, we shouldn’t eavesdrop anymore than we have, kiri.” 

“wait, i don’t think—” kiri tries, but you give her the best smile you can muster before whispering, “i’m gonna head home now. i’ll see you later, okay?” you quickly embrace her before exiting the sully residence. 

“oh! y/n, i didn’t realize—” neteyam stammers at the sight of you, seeming extremely flustered. 

“hi, neteyam,” you give him a strained smile. “hi vaewai,” you give her an awkward wave, to which she returns a kind smile, greeting you back. you quickly brush pass the two of them, making your way home. 

for the first time in years, you left neteyam without a warm embrace first, and you weren’t the only one who noticed, as neteyam found the dark night suddenly a lot colder as you walked away. 

-

you decided it was no big deal. neteyam was just being nice to a na’vi in the clan, neteyam is nice to everyone. “okay mr. future olo’ekyan” you’d make fun of him, only for him to shake his head with a laugh. 

which is why you decide show up to the sully’s place the following day and act as though things were normal, only to catch neteyam on his way out. 

“y/n,” he beams. “good morning.” 

“hi teyem,” you smile. things are already beginning to feel like usual. “let’s go to the mountaintop today, i have something i want to show—” 

the smile on his face slowly fell. “oh,” he lets out an awkward and uncomfortable laugh, “actually, i’m sorry, but i can’t today.” 

“that’s alright,” you nod in understanding, “training?” 

“no, actually—” 

“hey neteyam, are you ready to go?” another voice joins the conversation, walking up to hold neteyam by the arm. vaewai smiles at you, bidding you good morning. 

unable to process her presence, let alone her words, you can only stare at the pair in confusion. before you could respond, neteyam pulls her along but not without pressing a peck to your cheek first. 

“i’ll see you later, y/n.”

“that idiot is replacing me,” you murmur to yourself.

-

it’s the fourth day this week that neteyam was no where to be found. 

you, kiri, and lo’ak sat around a clearing, discussing the missing sibling. you sat criss-crossed on the grass, pulling and plucking at the ground below you, much to kiri’s annoyance and dismay. the flowers you searched for with lo’ak now exist in the form of a necklace that kiri helped you create. a necklace you were planning on gifting neteyam. now? you weren’t so sure anymore. the piece of jewelry sat next to your hand and you couldn’t help but feel like it was mocking you.

kiri laid with her head besides your thigh as she confesses, “i tried talking to him that night, y/n. after he came inside.” 

“and?” you inquire, heart thumping rapidly in your chest at the news. 

“and nothing. he was like a locked book and refused to share anything.” 

lo’ak hopped down from the tree branch he was climbing on, landing in front the two of you. “okay, i think i know something.” he pauses, eyes flickering up to look at you with hesitation. 

“well? out with it lo’ak,” kiri presses. 

“i don’t know…” lo’ak draws out, grimacing a bit. 

“lo’ak,” kiri chastises. “don’t say you have something and then refuse to tell us what it is, you’re the worst—” 

“alright, alright!” lo’ak’s resolve crumbles at his sister’s harsh words. he mumbles. 

“what?” you ask. “lo’ak, you’re gonna need to speak up.” 

he mumbles again. 

“oh my eywa, lo’ak!” kiri grows impatient. 

“i heard dad talking to neteyam about…” he shouts, but then lo’ak stops himself, voice suddenly lowering when he realizes what he’s about to say. he finishes, “about picking a mate…” lo’ak trails off, his sad puppy eyes meeting yours. 

you freeze in your spot, lo’ak’s words confirming your biggest suspicion and dreadful fear about neteyam’s new relationship. you feel your lip begin to quiver, the reality of what’s happening hitting you like a ton of bricks. 

“oh, y/n…” kiri starts, her hand finding your back as she sits up on her knees. 

“i’m sorry,” lo’ak apologies, the boy having sympathy for you. none of the sully siblings saw it coming. it was you and neteyam, it had always been you and neteyam. 

not wanting to be pitied and break down in front of your closest friends, you clear your throat, hoping to rid it of the lump lodged painfully there. you sit up straight and shake your head with a forced laugh, “why are you sorry?” 

the sibling pair don’t know how to respond. 

“me and neteyam are friends. just friends.” you wonder if you’re trying to convince yourself or them. “this is good for neteyam,” you look down, playing with your own fingers. “he’ll be olo’eyktan one day and vaewai is…” 

“y/n,” kiri tries to stop you. 

“she’ll be a good mate for neteyam.”

able to see through your facade, kiri pulls you to her chest as lo’ak reaches for your head. 

you spent the next couple of hours like that, tears soaking into the material of kiri’s top despite you willing them not to, as the sully siblings do their best to protect your heart. 

-

day seven is when you finally see neteyam again. 

needing time to tend to your wounds, you decided to spend the next few days away from the sullys. it came as a surprise to you when neteyam came knocking. 

“y/n, there you are,” neteyam gives you his usual bright smile. “where have you been?” 

throughout the days you spent alone, you ran all the scenarios through your mind. you wondered how you would face your best friend. should you lash out at him? be angry that he’s keeping such an important part of his life from you? maybe you’ll break down, confess the love that’s been brewing within for as long as you’ve known him and pray it won’t ruin your friendship forever. maybe you’ll just… 

“hi neteyam,” you embrace him. 

be kind to him. 

“where have i been?” you bump shoulders with him. “you the one who disappeared off the face of pandora.” 

his face warms, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck. “that’s actually what i wanted to talk to you about.” 

for as long as you’ve known neteyam, he has been selfless. he’s given all of him — mind, body, and soul — to serve others. please his father, protect his brother, be a strong warrior for his clan. how could you not fall in love with that? but unlike everyone else in his life, you refused to be selfish with neteyam. no, neteyam deserved better. 

neteyam deserved happiness. 

“i’m happy for you neteyam,” you lied. 

“happy for me?” he cocks his head to the side, “what—” 

“i know you’ve been spending your time with vaewai.” you ignored the way he turned sheepish again. “and i think that’s good, neteyam.” 

“good?” 

“yeah, vaewai is…” you pause, having difficulty navigating through a conversation where you’re forced to let the one you love go. “she’s an amazing healer. and her dad is quite esteemed in our clan.” you force a smile. “you’ve done well for yourself, neteyam.” 

he steps back. “i’ve ‘done well for myself’?” he quotes. “are you…” neteyam licks his lips, racking his brains to find the right word. “you think i’m courting her?” he laughs, “you would be…okay with me mating another?” 

you shift nervously, not used to lying to your best friend and not being great at it. seeing right through your facade, neteyam grins. clearing his throat, neteyam decides there’s no harm in teasing you. “you’re right, i have been spending a lot of time with vaewai.” 

at the sour look on your face, the oldest sully can’t help but grin. it made him kind of happy, knowing you wouldn’t be happy with him being with another because he feels the same. 

“come, i’ll tell you all about it,” neteyam walks away. 

you let out a breathe, not quite sure if you’re ready to hear all the dreadful details of him and his new lover, but before you could come up with some lame excuse, neteyam grabs you by the hand and pulls you with him, flashing you a wide smile.

-

“neteyam,” you swat away a bug away from your face, annoyance dripping from your voice. “neteyam, how much further?” you complain, mood incredibly bitter as neteyam fills you in on what you’ve missed in his life the past couple of days. lots of exploring, bead shopping, and other disgusting, boring activities that you had you resisting the urge to roll your eyes at. 

yeah, being kind only lasted about ten minutes into your journey before it turned into pure crankiness. 

“what have you been up to?” he asks, but when he was greeted with nothing but silence and a deadly glare, neteyam just snickers. “being away from me has turned you into a real grouch,” he teased before continuing to lead the way. 

“we’re almost there,” he turns around and grabs your hand, rubbing one of his fingers in soothing circles. the familiar feel of his rough palm in yours makes you feel considerably better, and you melt into his touch. “actually, we’re here.” 

the sight before you makes your breathe catch in your throat. the forrest of pandora have always been beautiful, a fact that you and neteyam have always appreciated, but the layout before you makes your heart swoon. 

in the middle of meadow in the evening light, underneath the shade of a large tree lays a blanket. atop said blanket laid plates full of beatiful fruits, drinks, and a package, wrapped neatly in brown paper and a bow. 

you turn to neteyam, eyes wide, “what is this?”

he only smiles in return, pressing his forehead to yours. “come,” he whispers. 

“so,” he turns to you as he leads you to the blanket, “i’ve been spending my days with vaewai.” 

the mention of the na’vi makes your heart plummets. of course, this must be for her. 

“and she told me a lot of things,” neteyam pulls you to sit besides him on the blanket. “she told me to ‘be romantic’.” the boy shakes his head with a laugh, “i had no idea where to begin.” 

the necklace you carried with you in your cloth bag burned the skin of your thigh, neteyam’s words fueling a sense of jealousy and anger that coursed through your veins. 

neteyam pauses, smirk on his lips. “what do you think of vaewai?” 

you huff. “i’ve already told you,” you grumbled. 

his grin only seems to get wider and his utter happiness at the mention of the other na’vi gets beneath your skin. neteyam nods, pretending to ponder on his thoughts. “i like her.” 

take me now, eywa was your only thought. 

“but after a while i just, i don’t know. i couldn’t help but feel as though her words were…unhelpful,” he criticizes. 

his words surprise you. afterall, how could he say such things about his future mate? 

“she said grand gestures were best. the most expensive beads were the prettiest. the highest treetop was the one with the best views.” neteyam tsk’ed. “it didn’t feel right.” 

feeling your lips twitch into a smile, you will yourself to stop. “and?” 

“and i realized,” neteyam locks eyes with you. “that i know my girl better than anyone else does.” he moves closer to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i know her favorite fruit,” he pushes a plate towards you. “her favorite view,” he plucks a flower in the grass, placing it behind your ear. “i know that i see her,” he presses his forehead to yours. 

the actions make your face warm, and you exhale with a shaky breath. “vaewai—” 

at that, neteyam laughs. he throws his head back and lets out a deep, genuine laugh. “you skxawng. what will it take for you to acknowledge my feelings for you? must i kiss you before you take a damn hint, y/n?” 

before you could answer him, neteyam presses his lips gently to yours. it was simple, but loving. neteyam was patient with you as he held your face close to his and your heart only hammered faster in your chest when he lets out a sigh of content. 

when your eyes finally open, he smiles at you. “you really think i wouldn’t choose you in a heartbeat?” he teases. 

overwhelmed with him, you can only cover your mouth with your hands, letting out a laugh at how ridiculous the past week has been. this time, it was you who reached for neteyam as you kiss him. 

“i see you, neteyam.” 

-

after that night, when the two of you proudly announced to everyone that you had mated, you could only beam with happiness as neteyam wears the necklace you made in front of the entire clan. 

he never takes it off after that night, and though you don’t know it now, neteyam will proudly share the story of how his beautiful mate made him the the most beautiful jewelry to your children, setting the bar for romance quite high. 

-

finally finished this fic !! hehe lmk what u think w a comment :)

5;15PM ─ NETEYAM ⊹ ִֶָ

contents. fem!omaticaya!reader, drabble, pure fluff, sleeping together

notes. 😋😋

it was your first night at the awa'atlu village with the sully's. your muscles were aching and sore, your mind exhausted from the long way. while the village has fallen quiet, the night begun to take over. all the families were slowly, yet surely retrieving back to their own marui pods, ready to rest after a lengthy day.

sitting near the burning lantern with your legs crossed, you suppressed a small laugh at the sight of tuk struggling to take off her beady necklace. "hey!" with a pout, tuk let out an offended grunt at your reaction. "i'm sorry, tuk. i can help you, if you want?" edging closer to the young girl, you offered, as she swiftly nodded in agreement, before turning her back to you for better access.

simply, you took off her necklace, before placing it in the palm of her small hand. "here you go." with a soft smile, you announced, earning a grin from tuk in response. "tuk...?" from the other side of the mauri pod, a voice echoed. with a confused expression, tuk turned to the side, her eyes falling on her older brother. "what do we say?" furrowing his eyebrows, neteyam hinted. tuk's eyes widened, before her snapped turned back to you. "thank you, y/n!" tuk's innocent grin only grew. "you're welcome." lips twitching into a smile, you replied.

as tuk went back to getting ready for bed, making sure all her toys were in place, your eyes fell on her older brother - neteyam. he was looking at his sister with a soft expression and you couldn't help, but feel your smile only grow wider at the sight. his eyes soon met yours, as you got off the ground and made your way towards him.

standing in front of him, you reached out your hands to caress the side of his arms. "tired?" you simply asked. "mhm." closing his eyes and resting his forehead against your collarbone, his body relaxing upon your touch, neteyam hummed. sneaking your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer - your body desperately longing for his touch as well.

as neteyam's arms made their way towards your waist, a voice interrupted you. "time for bed, kids!" walking inside the mauri pod, jake called out, followed by neytiri. lo'ak was already asleep - or at least pretending, facing the wall. laid down, kiri observed the beautiful shell in her hands, barely acknowledging her parents' presence. excitedly, tuk jumped towards her parents' made bed, before tiredly rubbing her eyes, jake and neytiri soon trailing behind her.

you and neteyam didn't even bother to share a look with one another, before the two of you begun to lay down next to each other, getting comfortable. "nuh-uh." pointing his finger between the two of you, jake suddenly broke the silence. with a confused look, you glanced at the man. "you two are not sleeping together." jake declared, causing neteyam to roll his eyes. "dad." he pleaded, as his shoulders dropped.

your relationship with neteyam was no secret, yet jake was too suspicious of your - as he'd call it - funny business.

"no, y/n can sleep with kiri, if she wants." jake offered, before turning around, meaning those were his final words. you let out a disappointment sigh, before turning to face neteyam. you could never hold it against jake - he meant well. after all, you two were still young and what you liked to joke and tease neteyam about is maybe jake was afraid of becoming a grandfather way too soon for his liking.

leaning in, you pressed a quick peck on neteyam's cheek. "good night." you whispered, as his smile mirrored yours. making your way towards kiri, she scooted over a bit, giving you space. you thanked her with a smile, before laying down and getting comfortable.

the light from the lantern was blown off, as the pod echoed with bunch of muttered 'good night' wishes, before peaceful silence took over. you closed your eyes, focusing on the sound of the ocean beneath your marui pod - but no matter how hard and how many different positions you've tried, you couldn't fall asleep. you were missing something and you knew exactly what it was.

looking over your shoulder at the corner, where neteyam laid, you bit your lower lip, silently wondering for a minute. you quickly glanced at jake and neytiri, who were sound asleep with tuk cuddled between them, before getting up - carefully enough to not wake up kiri. you held your breath, as you quietly made your way towards neteyam. laying down, you placed your head next to neteyam's, adoring his features with a warm feeling in your chest.

your body tensed at the sight of his eyes slowly fluttering open. but instead of a surprised face at the sudden sight of you, neteyam only grinned, before pulling you closer to his chest. you had to hold back a giggle at his move, as he placed his chin on top of your head. sneaking your arms around his waist, you let out a long relived sigh.

with no words exchanged, the two of you closed your eyes, soon falling asleep - now in each other's comforting arms.

as the sun begun to rise, the whole sully family was still asleep - except for jake. he slowly stood up, his eyes roaming around the pod, making sure everyone was in their place. his eyes slightly widened, when his gaze fell on kiri, but no sight of you, yet his worries didn't last long. his gaze snapped towards neteyam, who was deep asleep, only with you cuddled to his chest. jake couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head from side to side, before smiling gently upon the two of you.

a hand appearing on jake's shoulder startled him a bit, as he looked to the side - just to be met with neytiri's soft expression. "they are lucky to have each other." neytiri whispered, her eyes on you and neteyam. "they are." jake's eyes met his mate's, as he could only smile in response.

avoidance | azriel

summary; things are getting real between you and azriel, and a slight panic ensues.

word count; 2421

notes; idk man I just got out my laptop to write down a little drabble idea and out of nowhere this happened? 0 plot, 0 context, just somethin' cute, I guess?

“You’re avoiding me.”

You jumped, almost dropping the yoghurt pot in your hands, teeth clanging on the spoon as you pulled it back. Twisting to face the man now casually leaning against the counter, your eyes narrowed, wondering when he’d snuck up on you, and just how long he’d been there.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“What- I am not!” You spoke through your mouthful, wincing a little and deigning to swallow it, even though the previously sweet treat now felt like a spoonful of sand in your throat. “Why would I be avoiding you?”

“That’s what I’m asking you.” 

“And now I’m asking you.” You deflected, nose scrunching a little as you turned your back on the man you most definitely were avoiding a little bit, Putting down your yoghurt, you attempted to seem busy as you stared out of the window at the gardens beyond, the sunlight flittering through the leaves and lighting up patches with a golden glow. 

“We haven’t spoken for two days.”

“I’ve been.. busy.” The lie did not roll off of your tongue as easily as they did his, and you knew that he’d picked it up. Catching sight of him in the reflection of the window, you watched him shuffle, arms crossing over his chest, shadows coiling tighter around his body as his smirk fell away. Then his gaze met yours in the glass, and you gasped, refocusing on the garden beyond. 

“You haven’t been to training all week, either.”

“I’ve been to training, I just had to fit it in at different times!” Not technically a lie, you had been going to training, just at the most unusual possible hours you could think of, to be sure you wouldn't bump into him. His silence stretched on, uncomfortable and stifling, and you knew every trick in his book to get people to talk, this was the easiest one, and yet you caved, after barely thirty seconds. “I’ve been, y’know, chaperoning Lucien and Elain!” 

With one arm, you motioned to the couple outside, now wandering past the window, a pink flush on her cheeks to match the colour of her dress as they ambled along arm in arm, Lucien talking animatedly, a smirk on his face at her expression. They took no notice of you both. “I wasn’t aware they still needed a chaperone, what, with being officially mated, and all.”

Your lips pressed together, brows furrowing. “Well, you never know.”

Silence, again. Then, an arm was snaking around your waist, your gasp lost to a shaky breath as a kiss was planted to the space between your shoulder and your neck, another over your pulse. Soft and tentative and fragile, Azriel peppered barely-there kisses along your skin as his other arm looped around you too, pulling you back against him. 

“Az..”

“Why are you avoiding me?” He pressed again, this time, rather than cockiness at having caught you off-guard, a twinge of vulnerable pain lay in his voice. He moved up, the tip of his nose dragging over your jaw, a soft kiss pressed there too as he nudged your head to fall back onto his shoulder, as he squeezed his arms around you a little tighter, wings drooping over the sides of your body. 

“Because- because, we can’t.” The words tumbled from you, a confession you’d never actually wanted him to hear, and he froze, before turning you gently. Despite letting you go, he kept you just as trapped here, in the moment, hands locking onto the counter on either side of your body to keep you in place as he lowered himself enough that you didn’t have to tip your head up just to look at him. No excuses to avoid his gaze, then. “We can’t do this.”

“Oh, we most definitely can. And we did, in fact, we did a lot more than this, multiple times, on this counter, just last month.” When a grin broke free, despite your rolling eyes, a smile finally made itself known on his face. “We’ve established that we can do this, and that we like to do this.” Your mouth opened, and he shook his head. “Uh-uh, I know you liked it, I had scratches down my back that proved it.”

“Ego, much?”

“So, now that we know we can do this, why shouldn’t we?” He was serious again, dark brows pulling together, a wounded frown on his face, and you hated that look on him. Wanted to hold him, to use your fingers or lips to smooth away every mark until he looked happy and peaceful once again. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I can’t talk to you! That’s the whole point! You were my best friend, and you were the person I spoke to about everything, but I can’t do that anymore, and it scares me. What if we fuck up, and ruin our friendship? What if something goes wrong? What if you change your mind or this spark fizzles out, and.. and.. yeah..” You puffed out a sharp breath to follow it, unable to hold his stare now no matter how hard he tried. 

Only a second passed by, before he was huffing out a breathy laugh. One that soon transformed into a full-body chuckle, the deep sound vibrating over your skin, and a flush bloomed on your cheeks. “You’re freaking out.”

“I am not freaking out!”

“Oh, you are freaking out!” You reached out, shoving at his chest to get him to back up, storming away being the number one thing on your mind now, and that only made him laugh harder. So hard, his arms went weak, and he toppled a half-step closer to you, bringing him in so close his breaths were puffed over your hairline, and you had to look up to scowl at him now.

“You’re being a jerk.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” He took a shaky breath, daring to look down at you, calming himself into being able to at least offer a small smile to you. “I thought I’d be the one to freak out. I’ve been waiting weeks for it, since that very first night. I waited for you to wake up and tell me it was a mistake and for me to panic, and I waited after that first dinner to panic, and after the walk around the Sidra, and the picnic, and-”

“Don’t recap every date we’ve been on. It’s been months. We’ll be here for hours.” You grumbled, and if there had been enough space to do so without elbowing him in the ribs, your arms would be crossed over your chest. The thought of doing it purely for that reason flickered across your mind. 

“Listen, the point is, you’re freaking out. About us. I thought I was gonna’ freak out.” He was teasing, one thumb lifting from the counter by your hip to swipe gently at you, a test, to see if you were ready yet for his touch again. You were missing it.

“Stop saying ‘freak out’.” 

“Why?”

“Because you’re gonna freak me out!” The snap only made him laugh again, tipping forward to hide his face on your shoulder as he cracked up. You were mad at him, and scared, but above all else, your chest was all but bursting with affection at the way his body shook against you as he hid his amusement against your skin. When he was strong enough to pull back, he shifted, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rose that had warmth racing to your face once again. 

“Look, you’re freaking out because we were friends first, but we didn’t stop being best friends when we started doing more.” His smile was genuine now, soft and caring and you gave a little sigh, a lump forming in your throat at the overwhelming emotions. He took one of your hands in his, rough thumb swiping over your knuckles. “I’m always going to be your best friend, and I want you to talk to me, about everything, still. The only difference is that now, sometimes I get to kiss you, hold your hand, take you out on dates and call you ‘my girl’ when I introduce you to people instead of ‘my best friend’.”

“Oh, that’s the only difference, huh?” 

“Well, it’s the only difference for now.” His murmur was soft as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, your other cheek, the tip of your nose. “One day, hopefully soon but I can wait, the only difference will be that instead of hanging at your place or my place, we’ll hang at our place. Maybe, one day, the only difference will be that instead of telling people you’re ‘my girl’, I’ll get to tell them you’re my ‘wife’. We can just be two best friends, who stand up in front of all our other best friends, and promise to be best friends for all of our immortal lives.”

“You’re really not freaking out about this?” You questioned, all of it sounding so wonderful and perfect and terrifying at the same time, and you expected Azriel to have been flying for the hills by now.

“Not even a little bit.”

“You know, I’m high-maintenance.” You pushed, and he only huffed in response.

“No, you’re not. You like to stay in bed and read for dates, or go on walks, and you almost cried that time I brought you a postcard back from my assignment.” You poked at his ribs, and he shrugged. “But, fine, you can become as high-maintenance as you want. I’ll be more than happy to maintain you.”

“Well, I’m an annoying drunk.”

“I know, I’ve been friends with you for an eternity, I am well-equipped to handle your drunk antics.” He smiled, leaning in, breath sharing with you as you watched him near, golden gaze tearing you apart with its intensity. “Anything else?”

“I will yell at you for leaving socks on the floor, and you will have to be the strict parent because you know I will cave, and I get bitchy on my cycle sometimes, and-”

“Shut up, I’m not going anywhere.” His whisper was only for you, so low that had he not been so close you’d have missed it, before his mouth was sealing over yours. Soft and warm, his lips move slowly, coaxing you to kiss him back, until you couldn’t take it any longer.

When you lifted your arms, wrapping them around his neck, he sighed happily against your mouth, letting his body fall entirely against your own, pressing you into the counter. He licked along your lower lip, tongue teasing, waiting for permission. You gave it, mouth opening for him as you scratched lightly through the hairs at the nape of his neck. He was barely holding himself up against you, his tongue smoothing against your own, dragging slowly, tasting what you’d denied him for days now. 

He shifted, hands tugging at your thighs to lift you onto the counter so he could step between them, step closer to you. With one hand smoothing down his neck, you could feel his pulse thrumming under your touch, his head tipping a little to kiss you deeper. Unhurried, loving and tender and sweet. He tasted like the lemon water Cassian had been making everyone drink after training lately, he smelt like sweat and faint spices, and he felt like home. 

He pulled back, a gasping breath before diving right back in, groaning as your lips met again and your giggle was swallowed entirely by his mouth over yours, hands squeezing at your thighs, sliding up to your hips, Then, he was tugging you closer, wrapping your legs around his waist before looping his arms around your lower back, much like a hug, holding you to him. His lips left yours, dotting kisses along your jaw as he caught his breath, your head tipping back for him, until he settled with his face in your neck once again, and you could feel his smile. 

Bringing a hand up from where they’d settled on his shoulders, you wove your fingers through his hair gently, a rumble of pleasure at the act shuddering along his body. “See? We’re still best friends, just with really good benefits.”

“They were pretty good.” 

“I, for one, happen to love the benefits.” He settled happily, adjusting you until you were pressed as close as you could get, your heart thudding a steady rhythm against his shoulder, beating all for him. 

“Yeah, well, I happen to love you.” Your words were a whisper, but you knew he heard them, and after a second, he stiffened in your touch, holding his breath on full lungs. Your fingers paused their movements in his hair. “What?”

“We’ve never said that before.” He pulled back slowly, eyes wide, a shocked look on his face, and for all of one second, panic flared up within you once again. Until he was smirking at you. “I think I might have to freak out for a second.”

“You’re such an asshole!” Your legs unhitched from around his waist, but he made no move to step back, a work of art between your thighs as his head tipped back in laughter. Sunlight from the window behind lit up his golden skin, adding an extra sparkle to his eyes as he looked at you, lips spread wide in a heart-stopping grin. “I take it back. I don’t love you anymore, and I don’t even want to be your friend. Get off.”

“Nope! You love me, and we’re gonna’ be best friends for the rest of our lives, and we’re gonna’ make lots of cute little babies and live in a cute little house, and-” You cut off his teasing by pulling his lips back to your own, a handful of his shirt over his chest and one hand on his shoulder, and his words were muffled, your smile hidden, as your lips found each other again. 

He might have been a cocky, teasing asshole, but he was all yours, and you wouldn't have it any other way. Shadows swirled happily around the both of you, cold tendrils brushing against your skin and through your hair as they hid you both from the outside world, a bubble made for only the two of you, where only you got to see him like this. So carefree, so happy. 

Into the kiss, as his hands slipped up to hold your cheeks, fingers tangling in your hair, he mumbled, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

All I breathe (4)

Pair: Azriel x Vanserra Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: language, violence, mentions of abuse, PTSD, death

Summary: The time has come for Y/n to do her duty as court emissary and meet with the High Lord of the Autumn Court. She experiences the effects of what it is to be back at Court and a little bonding time with her brother.

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Azriel was gone the moment you awoke. He left no sign of him sleeping on the floor, no sign that he was here at all. You praised the gods for that, you didn’t want to see his stupid arrogant face after all that was said the day prior. You rolled your eyes so hard at the memory it hurt. Fuck him.

You refreshed yourself in the washroom, staring into the mirror, you had to muster up all the courage you could to face your family. You had to be prepared for every and anything they would throw at you. The girl that reflected back on you was weak and afraid. The same girl who you were all those years ago, you were right back where you started. A hell of your own making.

You would change that. The dresses that were put in your wardrobe were new, more mature like they could sense what you have become- what they thought of you now. You supposed you should be grateful they hadn’t had it in their mind that you are how you were before, what would be worse?

Do you make them underestimate you? Have them be blind to what truly lies beneath so they wouldn’t dare think that their poor pathetic little Y/n couldn’t possibly betray them? Or Do you let them suffer and writhe under your newfound power? You were a highly regarded member of the Night Court and they shall treat you as such. The latter was what you needed to portray yourself as if you believed it- so would they, and they would not dare undermine you.

You called upon the handmaidens that were assigned to you when you arrived. An intricate hairstyle was familiar to one you donned as a girl, one you knew your disgusting brothers loved to see you in. Remind them that you did not forget the past and that you have grown. Dark shadowed coal lined your eyes, with a dark rouge on your lips, intense maturity was what you were going for and the handmaidens had done you justice.

Power was what stared back at you in the mirror of your vanity. The dress you wore would show them that you were a part of the Night Court now, not to be fucked with.

Eris was standing at your threshold with a hand behind his back, one hand up, and ready to knock. Your handmaidens who opened the door and were about to leave gasped and curtseyed murmuring their apologies.

He chuckled, “They are frightened so easily.”

You gave him an unamused look, flattening your dress in your lap before standing. You held your chin high, the beginning of your act. You were not her any longer, you were not afraid. “Must you be so… you.”

It was his turn to be unamused, “You used to be fun.”

“I used to want to hide my face from embarrassment every time you opened your mouth.”

He inhaled deeply, “I’ve come to escort you to your meeting.”

“Father’s orders?” You assumed he would want to keep a close eye on you. You dreaded the hours to come, for some reason you hoped would be explained, Beron had requested you sit in on the Court meetings. Meetings that had no time for breakfast.

He ignored you and offered up his arm, you linked yours with his and began to walk in the direction of the room where all the boring officials held their business. Silence greeted you once you stepped through the door, and your heart increased its pace, this was one part of emissary work you could not stand. Boring old meetings full of business you truly did not want to discuss. You wished your work was more exciting, spywork was one you would enjoy if you got to set your own terms.

Alas, Azriel did not trust you and you did not want to report to him any more than you already had to. At least this way you got to spend time with your brother and he could be the mediator between the two of you, bonus was when he handled the boring bits for you. You weren’t much for politics, and didn’t know how to manipulate conversations for the sake of political power so much as manipulating people into telling you information with ease.

It should be an easier job for you considering the means were practically identical. Except, one involved bargaining, tit for tat and the other was just chit-chat.

Your father barely greeted you as you took your seat in the chair you assumed was assigned to you. The meeting went on with Autumn Court business that the Night Court didn’t have anything to concern itself with, at least nothing was spoken of in your presence.

A second meeting was held with some merchants, trading, and such. By the third meeting, you were out of it. Your eyes were blurred with boredom but you held onto every word that could be coded, nothing interesting. To keep yourself awake, you picked at the loose skin around your nail bed, you didn’t even flinch as a pinprick of blood appeared. You sighed as they spoke.

Eris was seated to the right of your father, chiming in at times only to be judged harshly by him. It was your only form of amusement. By the time all the other fae had exited the room, Beron, you, and Eris were left. A servant appeared from a secret door holding a tray of wine and fruit.

“What a shock it was to hear that my only daughter had traded her allegiance to her former husband's enemy?,” Beron swirled his wine thrice before sipping. “You must tell me what it is that allures you to the Court of nightmares.”

The confrontation caught you off guard, you had expected him to dance around the subject of your arrival. Perhaps make a game of it, but he hadn’t bothered to waste his time.

“The company I suppose.”

“Over the company of your own blood?” As if he ever cared about the family of all things.

That’s what this was. The endless hours of meetings with no food, a tactic to exhaust you before he dug his claws in you. Rile you up so that you may slip out unwarranted information. Though the torture was meant for you, your father appeared to be more worn out than you were.

He sighs, pinching his forehead with his thumb and index. “What brings you here, Child?”

“I do not know what you mean, Father.” You imitated his movements, “Perhaps I just wanted to visit the Court I love the most.”

Eris snorted, alerting you both that he was still in the room. Beron eyed him and refocused his attention on you, “You’re not stupid, stop acting like it.”

You held your chin up high, resisting any temptation to lower your head and pick at your nails. The tell of yours was well known in your family, it would too easily give off a signal of your nerves, you couldn’t have that.

“I was sent to assure the safe arrival of my lords spymaster,” You cleared your throat. “Our courts have not always seen eye to eye and as your daughter, I was to be seen as leverage.”

He waited for you to continue, he was the one who asked and yet he didn’t care for a word you said.

“A prisoner of ours has been known to cross your border,” Not the truth but not exactly a lie. That was the best form of manipulation, Beron could suspect all he wanted but he would not know what fully lies beneath if he ever wanted to look into it. “We only need time to investigate, and retrieve said prisoner and we’ll be out of your hair.”

Beron hummed in thought, the only indication he was listening at all. “Very well.”

Eris’ face was pensive, he must not have bought what you were selling but he wasn’t the one who needed to be convinced.

“He will be here in a day once word is sent of your approval.”

“I must know of what importance this prisoner is to your High Lord.” He leaned back in his chair.

You rolled your shoulders back in an attempt to ease the tension that threatened to show, “I’m afraid I am not privy to such information. I’ve told you all that I know.”

You prayed that he would not press, save any further investigation for a later date. Preferably when your stomach was full and you had a conversation with Azriel on how to proceed. Gods knows you don’t need to fuck up this mission, especially because of your deep-rooted issues with your family.

Thankfully your prayers were answered and he had grumbled for you to leave but not before vocalizing his last request, “You will bring me the prisoner once he has been caught.”

The air left your lungs as you gave him a tight nod, turning and exiting the large wooden doors of the meeting room. Eris led you out, staying close behind you. You marched straight for the kitchens which were several levels below where you were now, bursting through the doors, the servants stared in shock as they tried to process what just happened. You ignored them and beelined toward the food that was being plated for what you assumed was for lunch.

You scarfed down the pastry that sat on the plate so prettily before, crumbs on the corners of your lips, you reached for another hoping to eat your worries away.

“Not very ladylike of you,” Eris tugged on a stray hair.

You swatted his hand away and with a full mouth you told him to ‘fuck off’, he wrinkled his nose. You leaned on the wooden table where you acquired your food, he leaned beside you.

“A wonder how you managed to find yourself a husband with those manners, especially one like Tamlin.”

Your throat begged for water when you swallowed the roll of bread that you stuffed fully into your mouth. “Not surprising, you haven’t found yourself a wife with the way you taunt a female for eating when she has been deprived of what gives her body fuel. If you must be near me, be useful and fetch something to drink, will you?”

He gave you an appalled expression yet he left and brought back what you asked for. You chugged it down, wiping with the back of your hand any free droplets of water.

“What in Cauldron's name happened to you?” Eris searched your face as if it will give him any semblance of an answer.

“Do you actually even care?” You asked though you knew he truly didn’t. You were always the same person, you just didn’t hide it anymore. They couldn’t hurt you into submission, they couldn’t groom you to be their perfect little spy anymore. You didn’t have to hide your personality to fit into the standard of females that they thought could get males to spill every detail of their life with a line of seduction.

“Would it be so hard to believe that I do?” He glanced around to see if any servants were listening in. You’ve had enough of him and the rest of your family for the rest of the day, your goal was to stroll around the forest, get a lay of the land.

You simply walked away but apparently, the words exchanged were not enough for him, he grasped your elbow, and you whirled around to face him. You looked at where he held you, he realized his mistake and let go.

“I- I do care for you, sister.” He visibly struggled to get the words out, your eyebrows arched in confusion. He searched around once again for any onlookers before whispering, “I wish to help you.”

“I don’t need any help,” You insisted.

“The meeting with father might have gone well today but I must advise you to keep your wits about you while you are here,” He pressed. “There could be something amiss.”

“What do you know that I don’t?”

“Nothing yet,” He shrugged. “But you know as well as I do that our family is not a merciful one and if you have any ulterior motives, act carefully. He is having you watched though he has nothing to persecute you with.”

You took what he said into consideration, Beron didn’t have any proof that anything was amiss. So far so good, everything was going according to plan and if Eris is being truthful, you gained an ally.

You swallowed your pride and gave him a grateful nod, “Thank you.”

“There is a ball being held tomorrow night,” He called out to you once you were a few feet away. “In your honor, it was meant to be a surprise by the High Lord but I don’t think you’re fond of them.”

You continued down your path without responding and jeered at his attempt to show that he knew you in some way, but you appreciated the heads up. You would have to form a plan.

~~~

The sun had set by the time you came back to your room, you strolled through a nearby town that you used to frequent, bought a bouquet of blue fire lilies, and window-shopped the rest of the day. Despite the drama of being back where all the darkest parts of your childhood were held, you found beauty in the simplicity of life.

You sighed as you entered the room, slipping off the heels and setting the flowers that you had put into a clear vase on your bedside table, you summoned the fae light to brighten your dark room and you were met with a tall dark figure that had walked out of the washroom.

“Cauldron,” You cried out clutching your chest. You saw the familiar glow of the Shadowsingers' blue siphons and your heartbeat decreased its pace after a couple of seconds.

He stood at the threshold of the washroom, his eyes wandering over your body and around the room. You assumed he was sussing out if there were any threats from the sound of your shock.

Once he deemed the room safe, as always he ignored you and went about with whatever post-mission routine he had to unwind. You showered and washed the day off of you, the makeup from earlier was gone and you missed the mask that it gave you.

You settled yourself in your bed, you opted to skip out on dinner, and you ate plenty before returning to the palace so that you didn’t have to endure another meeting with your family. Luckily, Beron hadn’t sent for you the rest of the night, all was clear.

You and Azriel didn’t speak even as he prepared his sleeping set up on the floor. You turned over so that it would be easier to ignore the male on the ground willing sleep to take over.

Nothing had gone as planned, your brothers were waiting for you and you were waiting on your secret lover. This was foolish- sneaking about for little over three months with a boy who was wanted, while still doing your side missions for them. You were bound to get caught and what would you do then? What will he do? He was risking his life just being acquainted with you and yet he was still here. He loved you and you loved him.

You should have set the trap for your brothers to arrest him weeks ago, months ago. He knew, you told him as much, he charmed his way into letting him live and you let him. He was the only one of the men who hadn’t tried to assault you in some way or other. The bar was low but considering the fact that the only love you knew was from your twin and your mother, whenever you were allowed to see her, you craved kindness.

The forest was where he held your dates, a part of the woods that was forbidden for its dangers, after a quick scope of the area done by you and your lover- you had deemed it safe for your secret dates. He was never late to not a single one knowing how risky your rendezvous’ were, and he also never failed to tell you how precious his time with you was.

Five minutes had passed and suddenly you heard shouting in the distance. Anxiety gnawed at you, what if he had been caught? Who caught him? Maybe you could talk your way into gaining his freedom. No, you refused to believe that he was captive.

Every instinct in your body urged you to stay away but you couldn’t, if he was in danger you would go to him. You didn’t have to run far before seeing two of your brothers with their arms locked around him while the third repeatedly punched his face, he was unrecognizable. Bloody snot dripped down his nose, one eye was more swollen than the other though you were sure they would soon be matching.

His mouth sputtered out blood, he was trying to speak, perhaps to warn you to run.

“Stop!” You screamed in horror. “Stop please!”

Suddenly you were trapped in strong arms pulling you away, you fought him- Eris- he attempted to carry you away but you pried his arms away from you and ran towards your brothers. Your throat was raw at how loudly you pleaded with them to leave him alone. They didn’t stop, they beat him to the point of no pulse.

Your heartbeat raced, an overwhelming sensation pounding that rang in your ears. Your brothers released his body, letting it drop with no regard for the corpse that was your love. You fell to your knees next to him, you held onto his misshapen face and our chest heaved as you let out a blood-curdling scream that could be heard throughout the whole Court.

You woke with a start, a gasp that reminded you that you were alive. You were alive and he wasn’t, it had been a century since you lost your love yet it didn’t stop hurting. You felt your heartbeat through your ears, it slowed its pace with every breath that you took. You hadn’t realized the wetness of your cheeks until a sob clawed its way up your throat. The pain from your nightmare- your reality was all too real. In your sitting position on the bed, you pulled your knees to your chest with a hand covering your mouth to halt any noise that threatened to escape.

If only the Shadowsinger hadn’t chosen to block the path to the washroom, you would be able to hide away in there. Unfortunately, if you so much as tiptoed over his body he would be alerted.

As if the mere thought of him raised him from sleep, you heard him shuffle and suddenly half of his torso appeared from the side of the bed. It was too late to toss yourself under your covers and pretend you were sleeping, though you had thought about it. If you laid down now you already knew that the sobs you tried so hard to contain would leave you. You silently begged that he wouldn’t make a cruel comment about your vulnerable state.

To your favor, he didn‘t. He didn’t go back to sleep either, he rose from his spot on the floor and sat with half of his body on the bed. His head moved slightly in a nod, his eyes half-lidded from sleep, he was asking you to scoot over. You frowned at him quizzically but moved over twice to give him space.

Somehow the lack of clothing between the both of you didn’t seem to bother you, he was without a shirt (he must have taken it off after you had fallen asleep) you were sure he had one on every time he’d gone to bed. He wore only his underwear and you had on one of the many silk nightgowns that were hung in the wardrobe. You felt the heat radiating off of his body as you were sure he could feel yours from the closeness.

“What are you doing?” You croaked out, the tightness in your throat making your voice come out with a slight rasp.

“I will not ask you to speak about what happened if you do not wish to,” He licked his lips. “I know what it is to be haunted by memories.”

Part of you wanted to shove him off the bed and scream but you didn’t. You had no fight in you, you were tired and hurt. Your heart ached painfully for the boy who taught you that there was beauty in life, for the boy who knew of the horrors you’ve experienced, had sentenced others to go through- and had loved you. The boy who did not live. A tortured sound came from your lips, your head fell onto your arms that were held up by your knees. Your shoulders shook from the sobs, you didn’t care if he saw you like this anymore, you didn’t care about anything anymore if you were being honest.

You could feel the hesitation off him, you felt the weight upon your shoulders. You looked up at him with wet eyelashes questioning his every move and motive, he simply pulled you closer. Your head lay in the crook of his neck, his hand that you were now suddenly aware was gloveless, held you by your waist.

He held you in this position until dawn broke until the tears ran out and you were a sniffling mess. Just now he had shifted your bodies so that you lay on his muscled bicep, facing him. He hadn’t fallen asleep, staying awake the entire time without a word of complaint on how he didn’t get sleep. He wiped away any stray tears from your cheeks and once he was satisfied dropped his hand. He made sure that it wasn’t touching you more than it already had.

You whispered his name the moment his eyes started to glaze over with sleep, he hummed in response. You faintly traced the scars on the hand that lay between you, “Thank you for being here.”

His thumb grazed the top of your hand. “Sleep, Firewielder. You’re safe now.”

~~~

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