#I was just feeling soft and needed to write something for the best older brother

[joonieskinks]

best friend's sister

simon "ghost" riley x reader | john's your older brother, simon is your lover, will it work? | fluff, mentions of needles, some brief smut | 1.1k

inspired by: starstuckmiraclekitty - love her writing <3

“Listen boys,” Price started, addressing the group with his hands on his hips. “She’s coming here to stay, and I want you all on your best behaviour. Think of her as my second set of eyes, go’it?” 

A string of “yes sirs” echoed throughout the room, Simon’s included, not thinking twice about the Captain’s little sister coming to the base, just another rookie in his view. 

He thought as much until he laid eyes on you for the first time. Your kind eyes, your gorgeous body and soft smile. You care so much about helping others, patching them up and sending them off healthy. You were good, kind, pure- a direct contrast to what Simon considered himself: damaged, broken, evil.

However you thought otherwise. It didn’t take long to notice the tall, brooding Lieutenant that was so close to your brother. His tall, muscular body, his gorgeous eyes that stood out amongst the dark of his mask. His humour when he was relaxed, his impressive skills and his empathy. Specifically towards you when you first arrived. Checking up on you, helping keep your supplies restocked and assisting in your training.

It was on days like this that you needed to focus on your breathing, trying not to lose yourself in the close proximity to Simon. His legs over your waist, hands wrapped around your wrists, pinning you to the floor below him. It took every ounce of restraint in his body not to tip the mask up, lean down and kiss your lips.

And Simon was no basket case, he picked up on your subtle hints. Your lingering gaze, the excuses you would muster just to touch his uniform, your heightened breathing with his presence. But you seemed to be completely lost when it came to him and his feelings. Although he’s not exactly obvious, he thought you could read his willingness to be around you and his touches as a sign.

Apparently not.

“Si, can we talk?” You asked as you locked his door behind you, fiddling with your fingers nervously.

“‘Course. What’s on your mind?” Your eyes met briefly before you needed to look away, attempting to conceal the blush on your cheeks. Simon gave you a minute, waiting across the room for you to take the first step. The leap, when he couldn’t. Somehow that sat better with him knowing it was you who initiated if it ever came to confessing to your brother. 

“Simon, I can’t keep going on like this. I just need to know...” You started, gathering as much courage as you could and taking a few steps closer to his form. 

“I want you, and I don’t think I can keep it to myself anymore.” Simon could only chuckle. 

“You weren’ exactly subtle, love.” He closed the gap between the two of you, his hand at your chin, pushing it upwards to look into your eyes. 

You smiled slightly at the implication, biting your lips as you took in the man before you. 

“I don’t want you to regret this, or get in trouble because of me.” You confessed softly.

“Trus’me. S’not something I’m looking forward to,” Simon started, using his spare hand to take the mask off. You could only look in shock as he bared himself to you - the trust, the love. You knew then and there he wasn’t someone you could just walk away from. 

“But I think you’re worth it.” 

“Simon, you’re gorg-” You started but were quickly cut off by his lips on yours, his hands around your waist, directing you over to his bed. Stripping you of your clothes, your sticky underwear and touching his bare body with yours.

It wasn’t long before his head was between your thighs, his tongue pressed against your throbbing clit, making you cum once, twice, thrice over. 

Taking his hard length, over and over again until he could finish inside you, holding you close, kissing your lips and whispering sweet praises. Cleaning you up afterwards, bringing you in and keeping you beside him all night. Night after night, and neither of you could get enough. 

After three months of sneaking around, concealing your love for eachother behind closed doors, it was you who slipped up. 

In front of none other than John. 

Simon came by the infirmary to hand off the extra supply of syringes you needed for standard blood work procedures. He put the box into your arms, nodding his head to Price as he lay on the bed for his standard checkup from you. Taking the box, you leaned up to kiss Simon on the mask as a thank you, turning around to unpack it all. You only realized your mistake after the fact. Both boys were frozen and deadly silent as the mistake sunk in. You turned your head around slowly, kicking yourself for not thinking twice. 

John was the first one to break. 

“So,” He huffed, pointing aggressively at Simon. “You’re the one who's been sneaking around with my sister.” John’s gaze staring daggers into your lover, who could only watch back in shock.

Fuck. 

John moved quickly, trying to shove off the elastic arm tie, ripping the blankets back to charge at Simon.

“John!” You screamed, grabbing at his arms to hold him back. Simon quickly darted out of the room, leaving you to handle your brother for the time being. He certainly didn’t want his Captain to (try) and kick his ass in front of you. 

“John! Listen to me!” Heaving on your sibling, begging him to stop. 

“I’m gonna kick his ass for this (sure you are, buddy). Swear on it.” John was seething with anger. 

“I love him!” You screamed, giving one more big tug before John let up, facing you.

“You- What?” He looked utterly perplexed, but you nodded reassuringly.

“I do. I know you may not approve now, but you’ll have to come to terms with it eventually, John. It’s not going anywhere. You can’t bully him away.” You exhaled frustrated. “I know you only want to protect me, but I’m an adult now, you have got to start seeing me that way, alright? I love Simon, and he’s been so good to me. Please…” You squeezed your brother's arm, a silent beg. 

John closed his eyes, rubbing at his forehead. 

“‘Swear to God if he hurts you Y/N…” He warned. 

“Never.” You promised, nodding your head rapidly and John let out the breath he had been holding in. 

“Fuckers’ still got a lot to answer for.”

John eventually came around - after some punches that didn’t land on Simon and an outburst that left him feeling ridiculous. He inevitably came to accept you two, stomaching you around the barracks, even allowing him to come to family Christmases…

Just on the condition that you two aren't so loud at nightfall anymore.

Gives the old man a headache. 

And nausea.

//

[lady-ashfade]

Hi, I wanted to request something platonic with Percy, with him meeting his older half-sister after he finds out he's the son of Poseidon.

Sorry for my English, I'm using the translator to write, and sorry if you don't understand my request

Pictures On The Wall

Percy jackson x older!sister (platonic)

-£ this was the first thing that came to mind and it’s such a cute idea! thank you.

-£ words: 700

-£ warnings: short, nervous percy, cool reader, sassy and kinda grunge reader, siblings bonding, fluff.

the wall across from his bed was covered with many things. pictures of people he didn’t know along with a bed half made and clothes piled up. “that’s y/n’s” a name he never heard but yet was family. his half sister was somewhere on a quest and didn’t know that he was snooping round her things.

he looked at the pictures all the time, liking the smile you had. he knew that smile, a distinct memory in his mind but you wore it with pride. you looked so cool and by all the stories he heard you were one of the most awesome person at camp.

every cabin knew you, it was like he needed to fill some sort of shoe now that you walked in but he didn’t know the first thing.

“percy,” grover peaked into the cabin and looked around for his best friend, when he found him he looked nervous. “I think you should come.” percy jumped up at the sound of his voice that sounded like something horrible had happened.

percy walked along his friend while his heart raced, “what happened?” had another monster attacked the camp, what could have happened that he had to come.

“she’s back.” Grover muttered while sighing, “And we thought you should meet her.” oh,- oh gods. you were back so soon? he didn’t have a clue on what he would say or do. would you like him, would you hate him and somehow kick him out of the cabin? he’s never had a sibling before.

“she’s getting patched up and I’ll warn you,” Grover patted his shoulder with a kind smile, “she’s unpredictable at times.” Yeah, that makes me feel much better Percy thought.

as soon as the walked into the infirmary all they could hear was yelling and arguing making the young boys look at each other. they walked to the door and saw the girl on the bed glare at the other around her age.

he knew you. the picture he looked at every day you seemed to be exactly like that, but you didn’t look happy like all of them. the shirt you wore had rips in it and a bloody bandage wrapped around your arm. the redhead girl in front of you held a spoon up to your mouth but you kept fighter her off.

“I’m fine! It’s just a few scratches, I’m not a child!” it was ironic that you looked like a bratty child that wanted to stomp their feet. your lips pouted slightly. percy didn’t know what to think at the scene.

“take it. you’re just keeping yourself from leaving, so do it so I can leave!” the other girl seemed to knock some sense into you as you huffed and took the spoon in your mouth. if looks could kill then she would be on the ground by now, you looked so angry.

humming the redhead walked out of the door and looked at the boys before rolling her eyes and kept going down the hallway. you didn’t seemed to notice them as you started to take off the dirty bandages.

Grover was the first to speak, “excuse me,” you looked at him quickly but your eyes were now soft and no longer sharp. “Grover, come in!” you invited him over but your eyes soon fell on the boy next to him. and immediately the connection between the two of you went off in your head.

“you must be percy?”

he shifted closer and awkwardly not knowing want to do, “yeah. how do you know?”

“I received letters telling me of the idiot brother I seemed to have,” you chuckle and throw the dirty cloths in your hands on the bed. The cut was gone but dry blood still stayed on your skin, “you have dads eyes.” You pointed to your own.

“really?” he asked quietly as you hopped on the floor and stretched. “Oh yeah, less disappointment in them but I’ll give it time.”

you yawned and picked up the black jacket and your backpack, “I’m starving,” you stood between the two of them and then swung your arms around the two of them.

“Now, tell me what you did to Clarisse!” You smirk at the brother you just met, “my favorite sibling already.”

[moonstruckme]

i’m obsessed with everything you write! you write our boys so well 🖤🖤 could I request poly!marauders maybe with some casual dominance and just taking care of the reader? like picking out her clothes, making sure she eats, just being protective but also so soft with her

Thanks lovely! Here you go :)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Morning, angel,” James chirps as you step into the kitchen. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good, thanks.” You take the coffee he hands you, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “You?”

“Phenomenally. How do you want your eggs?”

“I’m alright without, thanks though.” You sit down next to Remus at the table, taking a sip of your coffee. It’s just the way you like it, with heaps of cream and sugar. 

“Can’t skip breakfast, dove,” Remus says, hardly looking up from the newspaper as he speaks to you. 

“I don’t feel like eggs,” you reply, watching him warily over the top of your mug, trying to gauge if he might let it go. “And I’m not really hungry anyway.” 

Amber eyes flick up to yours as Remus turns the page. “You’re not going to work on an empty stomach. You need to eat something.” 

“I’ll make you something else,” James offers sweetly. “Whaddya want, my love?”

You smile at him, batting your eyelashes. “Could I have some toast please, Jamie?”

He flips his spatula expertly, winking at you. “Might be above my skill level, but I’ll do my best for you, angel.”

You laugh, and Remus rolls his eyes at the both of you. Sirius trods in still wearing his pajama bottoms, a smirk coming to his lips as he reads the room instantly. 

“In trouble already?” he drops a kiss on the top of your head, reaching over to squeeze Remus’ shoulder in greeting. “What’ve you done now, hm?”

Your eyes dart nervously to Remus, waiting to see if he’ll rat you out. Though Remus is the sternest of your boyfriends, Sirius delights in being in charge, and you know he’ll rub it in the most. You imagine it’s the older brother in him. 

“It’s resolved,” Remus says simply, and you think you detect the faintest twitch of his lips when you grin at him in relief. 

“Siri, have you seen the leaves outside?” you ask hastily, going for the distraction before he can attempt to pry further. “It’s like they finally turned just overnight.” 

He takes the bait, leaning back in his seat to peer out the window. You’d been ecstatic when you’d cracked the curtains in your bedroom this morning to see your street had taken on a whole new color palate, everything red and orange and golden. “It does finally look like autumn, doesn’t it?” He gives you a critical once-over. “That isn’t going to do for the chill out there, sweetheart.”

You look down at your skirt and blouse. You quite like this outfit. “You think? It’s not supposed to be that cold yet, is it?”

Sirius raises a brow just as Remus finishes with the paper, folding it and looking up to see what the two of you are on about. “It’s September, love,” he reasons. “If it got cold enough last night to turn the leaves, it’s cold enough to at least wear a jumper.” 

“I’m thinking fleece tights and a sweatshirt,” Sirius says contemplatively, more to Remus than to you. “Don’t run off after breakfast, dollface, and I’ll go pick them out for you.” 

You start to protest, but then Sirius’ mouth drops open, and you turn to see James teetering toward you, balancing four plates across his arms. 

“Fucking hell, Prongs,” he breathes, but James manages to distribute all four dishes safely, setting your toast in front of you last with a flourish. 

“Good idea,” he says, picking up the previous conversation as though nothing has happened. “Can’t have our girl shivering out there in the cold.” 

You roll your eyes but munch happily on your toast, ignoring how Remus eyes you watchfully as you eat. 

Since you finish first, you offer to wash up while Sirius goes and selects the additions to your outfit as he sees fit, changing into them afterwards. You have to admit, the day does look promisingly crisp outside your bedroom window, and the tights and sweatshirt he has you layer with what you already have on are soft and comfy. 

“Let me get those for you,” James offers as you pull on your shoes, and you place your foot on his knee obediently, letting him tie them both with a firm pat on the side of your shoe once he’s done. “There y’go, angel. Double-knotted and everything.” 

You press a rewarding kiss to his cheek, and Sirius comes in from canoodling with Remus to oversee his handiwork. He hums, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in your tights and adjusting the sweatshirt on your shoulders unnecessarily while you and James exchange glances, each fighting to keep a straight face. “Might need a scarf too,” he muses, and James bursts into laughter.

“Siri, come on,” you protest, unable to contain a few giggles of your own. 

James grabs Sirius around the waist, throwing him onto the bed beside you. “Work on your own outfit, Pads.” 

“You’re all going to be late if you don’t get going,” Remus says, smiling at the scene as he comes in. James detaches himself from Sirius, his expression morphing into that well-practiced facade of angelic innocence. 

“I was just on my way out,” he says, giving Remus a goodbye kiss. “See you all later.” He pats you on the head as he passes, and then he’s out the door. 

Remus moves to the bed, leaning over Sirius, who props himself up on his elbows to meet him halfway. “Get dressed,” Remus says as he breaks the kiss, tucking a piece of silky black hair behind Sirius’ ear. “You can’t afford to be late again, love.” 

You stand as he moves to you next, wrapping a long-fingered hand around the side of your hip, and you let your eyes flutter closed as he kisses you sweetly. “Be good,” he says softly, placing an additional kiss at your temple. “I’ll see you tonight, dovey.” 

“See you tonight,” you echo, and then it’s just Sirius and you, his eyes playful as they meet yours. 

“Be good,” he coos mockingly. “Think you can do that all day long?”

You grin, picking up your bag from the end of the bed. “Hey, at least I’m dressed.” 

“Oi!” Sirius says as you leave the room. “Where’s my kiss?”

“Sorry,” you reply gaily, “can’t be late. You can’t afford to either, remember?” 

“Oh, feeling bold, are we?” he calls after you. “We’ll see how bold you are later tonight.”

[cannellee]

How would alpha mitsuya feel about a omega reader who treats his sister like they are her own puppy, like she accidentally scent them and clean them like a mother would with her own puppy, there something about omega reader feel to need to take care of the girls and doesn’t help that reader’s Instant takes over whenever she round the girls. Omega Reader even purring round the girls like her need are satisfy whenever she take care of the girls.

I hope this make sense. ✋😭

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! mitsuya x omega! reader

— mitsuya's reaction to his omega taking care of his little sisters

my masterlist: ☆

(that was sooo cute, i loved writing this!! I hope you'll love it just as much!)

being mitsuya's girlfriend, and him being the responsible older brother that he is, you spent most of your dates at his place.

it didn't bother you in the slightest, luna and mana were angels and absolutely adored their big brother's girlfriend. you grew quite close, becoming a second parental figure in these little girls' life.

mitsuya loved to see you get along along so well, even going as far as spending time together building nests. you taught them how to gather the best items, scent them however they liked and assemble them together. exactly how your mother showed you the first time, but it mainly was an instinctive process, so you let them do their own thing. you stayed back, encouraging purrs leaving your throat to show your appreciation towards them.

the first time you scented his sisters wasn't actually planned. it just happened that mitsuya went away for a few minutes to buy ingredients for tonight's dinner, and luna hit her head against the floor after tripping.

panic took over you and you rushed over to her sobbing form, hiccups slowly forming even though she tried her best to suppress them. luckily it wasn't anything bad, it hurt more than it was dangerous, and you subconsciously scented her out of relief. omegas' instincts were particularly sensitive towards children, and it didn't help that luna and mana felt like a family to you now, now that the three of you were patiently waiting for the return of mitsuya every day.

upon returning back home, mitsuya cooed at the unexpected sight of his little sisters cuddling with you. they were bathed in his omega's sweet scent, peacefully snoring. he softly came up to you, gently kissing your smiling face.

the three of you looked perfect like this, mitsuya couldn't help but feel like he had attained the best domestic life he could ever hope for.

coming home to the sight of his lovely omega taking care of his two little sisters, loving them as much as he did... god, you looked so perfect, and it felt so right.

he particularly loved the way you would lightly scold them whenever they got in trouble or dirtied their clothes after playing. and the way you would call them over, zipping up their jacket before allowing them to go outside. you looked so good, so motherly. almost as if they were your own. seeing you were so comfortable with each other appeased him in so many ways.

you were always there whenever mitsuya had a gang meeting and needed someone to look after the girls. mitsuya hated that he had to leave them home alone, and knowing he had his cute and dedicated omega over eased his mind. still, he wished he could get to the three of you quickly. imagining the people he cared about the most at one place, worried him as much as it satisfied his instincts to know exactly where all of you were.

you were so vulnerable, mitsuya wanted to stay close so he could watch over you while you took care of luna and mana. he liked it whenever you played with his sisters, speaking to them with a soft tone omegas only reserved to their offspring. he silently watched you from a distance, a content smile stretching his lips.

you couldn't help it though, your instincts urged you to cater for those two little girls. they only had mitsuya as a parent, and despite everything, there were some things he could never give them, both as an alpha and a man.

what they needed was a delicate presence and maternal affection. and being nurtured by a gang member all their life, they quickly claimed you as their second parent, deeply appreciative of the care you showed them. and mitsuya couldn't feel more grateful for how gentle you were, how patient you acted while never giving up on their poor little family.

you looked like a married couple, nagging after energetic little pups and forcing wet kisses upon their rosy cheeks.

you would take a walk each day, with luna holding one of your hand and mana the other. the picture was perfect in mitsuya's mind. he walked a bit behind you to have a clear view of your surroundings, growing protective the moment you stepped outside. you let yourself be unaware and defenceless whenever he was with you, entirely focusing on the girls. mitsuya was a hundred percent dependable for that matter, as he would never let anything harm any of you.

coming home, you would wash their little noses and chubby hands, then tuck them in the nest you permanently built in one of the rooms. you smothered them with your scent, the polluted air outside having melted their already light puppy scents. you came to hate the lack of presence of either your or mitsuya's scent on the girls ; you had to claim them one way or another. the absence of their real parents pushed you to feel even more invested in their wellbeing and you couldn't help but want to claim them in a way their mother never did.

mitsuya swore he could have married you right here. he finally had the little family he wished for, linked together by a tender bond. will someone ever be able to love his sisters the way you do?

you're a literal blessing, like you were made for him and his little sisters. the ideal partner he longed for, the support he wished he always had when all those responsibilities became too much.

the way you dedicated yourself to him and his family like a doting omega, turned him into an even more enamored alpha. preciously treating you like his other half. you are someone he will never let go of. he knows he'll never be able to find an omega more suited for him.

and mitsuya couldn't lie when he saw you act that way, it wouldn't be true to say it didn't stir up some primitive instincts of his. you were such a capable omega, faithful and attentive, you had all the qualities of a dutiful mother. how could he not think of you that way ?

mitsuya was so ready to commit, to claim you the way a precious omega like you deserved. if your dream was to be a mother, then he'll make you bare his kids as soon as you'll allow him to, and help you take care of them, just like you're doing right now with his sisters.

he envisions you cradling your own pups in your arms, gentle touches soothing the cries of your baby, and mitsuya's loving and securing gaze falling upon you. the thought of his omega nurturing his children fills him with a primal sense of pride and possessiveness he can't shake off.

he just wants to see you embrace your role, completely indulging into his deeply hidden desires to build a stable family of his own. one he'll protect and provide for, the way his parents never did with him.

you'll love your children as much as you love luna and mana, and everything will fall into place.

[loaksky]

— 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮

the deets — lo'ak is the black sheep in the family, clinging to honor by a precarious thread. you are the well-loved songstress in the tribe. he should resent you for being everything he's not, but his fickle heart can't bring him to do so.

the who — lo'ak x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 10.2k (rip yall)

the tags — (one-sided) rivals-to-lovers, angsty angsty, hurt / comfort, reader gives lo'ak a big ol smooch (perhaps more than one), lo’ak is the biggest dumbass and because of this he’s mean asf, reader has a big ol heart and just really wants lo’ak to like her, aged!up characters for maturity’s sake. 

the warnings — language, lo'ak is in luv but doesn't realize it, he's in denial that the feelings could be reciprocated, this is super dramatic so put your seat belts on!

the notes — was feeling extra sad and wanted to write something self-indulgent. this lovely anon requested something, and i used their ask as inspiration to finish this beast. fine line, bags, and love in dark are the three main songs i listened to finish this, so if you wanna be in your feels, have a listen LMAO. despite all the support, i’m still so mf nervous posting this ejsjsjdjs

masterlist

SOMETHING UGLY KINDLES IN THE PIT of Lo'ak's stomach at the mere mention of your name. It's sour on his tongue, bitter in his brain. He doesn't know when he's started to feel like this, started to feel absolutely dreadful anytime he'd hear the timbre of your voice. 

It's warm, thick like nectar and it makes him sick. 

Ever since you all were little, the elders crooned over what a great girl you were growing into; strong, intelligent, beautiful. It made him boil how much they'd sing your praises, the high esteem everyone held you in as one of the clan's most talented. 

Something dull would pick at him being compared to his older brother, but nothing burned more than being compared to you. 

Maybe it's because it's always implied whenever your names share the same sentences, that lingering implication that he could be more like you. The clan fans the flames of your mere existence while Lo'ak is snuffed out like a dying fire. 

He hates it. He hates you. 

He thinks. 

It'd be easier to, if you were awful behind the scenes. Arrogant, stuck up, but you're none of those things. You're kind, gentle, mighty when you need to be. It doesn't help that you shine like the brightest star, engulfing everyone in your light, in your warmth. 

But Lo'ak resists. He sees right through you, sees right through every saccharine smile you send him. He can see it in your eyes, how you really see him. Despite standing a full head taller than you, he sees the way you look down your nose at him. 

It grates his nerves, how disgustingly sweet you are towards him despite all attempts to rebuff you. 

Certainly doesn’t soothe his ego when you always seem to be around the bend every time he gets bitched at by the clan, eyes soft and filled with pity. To add insult to injury, you frequently tail him like a shadow after these moments when all he wants is to be alone. 

Like now, you linger. 

It's after dinner and Kiri and Spider stand before him. They come together like the three points of a triangle and you stand an awkward distance away from them. 

Kiri notices you first, her face splitting into a big smile as she waves you over. 

Lo'ak breathes a deep sigh before locking eyes with Spider who tries his best to suppress an amused grin. 

“Hi,” you chirp and Lo'ak can't help but roll his eyes. 

Spider and Kiri greet you eagerly. Lo'ak simply nods his head in acknowledgement before tightening his fist around his dagger. 

“We going or what?” he finally says. 

You perk up. 

“Where are you guys heading off to?” you ask curiously, hands clasped behind your back.

Spider opens his mouth to answer, but Lo'ak cuts him off quickly. 

“No where important,” he says, unsure if you'll blab about their whereabouts to the elders, or worse, his parents. 

You roll your lips and shift on your feet. 

“Can I come?” you ask hesitantly, eyes hopeful. 

Kiri's smile grows as she links her arm with yours. 

“No,” he says sharply. “Absolutely not.” 

Your face falls and something pulls inside his chest when you fail meet his gaze, your frown barely perceptible. 

You make a move to pull from Kiri's grasp, but her arm tightens through yours. She levels Lo'ak with a weighty glare and you fidget uncomfortably under his narrowed eyes. 

“Don't worry about it,” you say, like someone's hit a reset button. You smile that pretty smile and Lo'ak wants to scream. "It's okay, I think Rutan needs help with clean up." 

You slip from Kiri's grasp and the three watch you walk off. 

“Do you always have to be such a bitch?” Spider scoffs a disbelieving laugh. 

“She's just gonna tag along so she can snitch,” Lo'ak grumbles. 

“Oh c'mon,” Kiri argues. “________ just wants friends.”

Lo'ak sneers. 

“I don't want to be friends with her,” he says firmly, knuckles white around the handle of his knife.

“Weirdo,” Spider mumbles. “She’s cute. Think she likes you.”

Lo'ak's spine stiffens.

“It's an act” Lo'ak grumbles. “She just wants to look good in front of the elders to keep up whatever nice girl show she's putting on.” 

Kiri rolls her eyes hard. 

There are moments when Lo'ak thinks he's being harsh, but he can't help himself. It's like he loses all semblance of a filter when it comes to you. 

“Hi, Lo'ak,” you greet him sweetly, lowering yourself onto the fallen log he's perched on, fashioning arrows to practice with later on in the evening with Neteyam. 

He shifts away from you, putting the distance of two bodies between the two of you as he pauses his task at hand. 

“Hi,” he says flatly. 

“Can I help?” you ask tentatively, fingers twitching towards one of the untouched sticks in a pile next to his feet. 

His kicks them closer to himself, out of your reach before leveling you with a sharp glare. 

“No thanks,” he says quickly and you recoil slowly, letting out a shaky laugh before fixing that stupid smile on your pretty face. 

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize, straightening in your seat. 

A silence so uncomfortably palpable settles over the two of you as you shift so that your knees are turned towards him. 

His throat bobs when his gaze travels from your little toes all the way up to your inquisitive gaze, golden and searching. It makes something unruly settle in his gut and he turns his attention back to carving his arrows. 

“Do you need something?” he breaks the silence finally. “I'm kinda busy.”

You bite your lip before scooting a little closer to Lo'ak's hunched figure. 

“My birthday's coming up,” you start. 

“I'm aware,” Lo'ak almost scoffs. 

It's all the clan has been able to talk about for the past few days. How they'd be able to prepare for the golden girl's next birth cycle and what they'd be able to do to make you smile the brightest. 

“Your birthday is a week before,” you state and his head whips towards you. 

“How do you know that?” he asks sharply, accusation heavy in his gruff tone. 

You flinch and he falters for a moment before your smile simply widens. 

“We grew up together, Lo'ak,” you say and the way his name sounds from your mouth sounds absolutely heavenly. “You're my friend.”

Friend. 

He scowls at the term.

“We're not friends,” he bites back. 

If the statement bothers you, you don't show it, simply tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before putting on a brave face. 

“I want to celebrate with you,” you say shyly. 

“Hard pass,” he says too quickly, gathering his sticks and fashioned arrows under his grasp. 

He leaves you in the clearing on your own.

You must be fucking with him. You have to be. It'd be the only explanation for why Jake pulls him aside a few nights later and tells him that you've requested to work with him and Neteyam during archery practice. 

“No,” he says stiffly, shaking his head. 

His dad levels him with a hard glare and Lo'ak sighs deeply. 

“She's a nuisance, Dad,” he argues. “Me and Neteyam are making good progress with our training and we'll have to start at square one if she joins.”

“Lo'ak, this isn't an ask,” Jake says sternly. 

“But, Dad!”

“Lo'ak.”

Lo'ak huffs, snatching his bow and quiver angrily before storming off. 

“You're doing great,” Neteyam says to you once the three of you have convened in the training circle. 

The three arrows you've shot have all landed within centimeters of the mark and to say that Neteyam is impressed is an understatement. Lo'ak, on the other hand, fumes not-so-silently as he tears his arrows from his target. 

Yet again, you have another person wrapped around your finger and it makes his blood simmer as he assumes his position at the marker and loads his arrow. It splinters through the air and hits the target right on the bullseye. The arrow punctures through the hide and lodges its way into the wood from the sheer force of Lo’ak’s shot. 

You start at him moon-eyed, lush lips breaking into a full smile. 

“Perfect shot,” you observe. “That was awesome.” 

Lo’ak scans your features hesitantly before his gaze flits to his older brother, waiting for any acknowledgment that he’d done a great job, but Neteyam is taking notes on the arrows still stuck in the fabric of your own target. 

His heart sinks. 

“Fuck this,” Lo’ak grumbles, bundling all of his belongings.

He stalks through the clearing, past his brother, to leave you two. 

He doesn’t know what fuels the fire more, the fact that Neteyam didn’t even bat an eye at the feat they’d been practicing for for the past three weeks because he was too immersed in you, or the fact that you bore witness to his first clean shot and gave him that sickeningly sweet smile that made his stomach turn. 

“Where are you going?” Neteyam sighs. 

“Somewhere you two aren’t,” he grumbles under his breath, ducking through the brush of the lofty forest. 

You lick your lips, locking eyes with Neteyam as you give him a bashful grin and slowly break away to follow Lo’ak’s path. 

He isn’t far ahead as you push through the vines and low-hanging leaves, the path lined with large plants and the spindly roots of the looming trees. The grass is plush between your toes as you scamper to follow Lo’ak from a distance, watching as his lithe body climbs through the dense flora. 

“Why are you following me?” he calls after a few dozen paces, stopping in the middle of the path to whirl on his heel. 

His golden eyes are syrupy, warm despite the edge, and you can’t help but flash him your pearly whites in a genuine smile that takes up your dimpled cheeks. 

“Why’d you run off?” you ask him. “You were doing so well!” 

His chest rises and falls with a scoff. 

“You can give it a rest, you know?” Lo’ak says flatly, fist so tight around his bow he feels like he’ll crush the wood. 

Your expression morphs, eyebrows furrowing in a way that makes Lo’ak throat bob, something pinching behind his ribcage. 

“What?” you ask, frown marring your pretty face. 

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you can stop acting like you wanna be friends with me,” Lo’ak says matter-of-factly. 

“You are my friend,” you protest quietly. 

Lo’ak rolls his eyes. 

“Dude, whatever,” he mutters, turning his back on you. 

“Is it so wrong?” you murmur and he stops in his tracks, refusing to meet your gaze. “To be friends?” 

Friends. 

That stupid fucking word again.

Lo’ak bites his tongue and stalks off, leaving you on the path. 

Neteyam rips him a new one when he sees him at dinner later that night. Lo’ak hangs his head as Neteyam digs in.

“Is it so hard to be nice?” Neteyam asks, hand squeezing his shoulder as they stand a handful of meters away from the main circle. 

As his eyes wander, he notices you sitting with his sister, head thrown back in laughter that glitters and wafts with the rising smoke of the fire. He swallows turning his attention back to his older brother. 

“Just don’t like her,” he admits. “I want her to leave me alone.” 

“You don’t like her or you like her too much?” Neteyam asks, brow bone raised. 

Lo’ak’s face scrunches.

“Ew, no,” he blurts. “Why would I—”

“________ just wants to fit in,” he sighs. “She has trouble making friends.” 

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Lo’ak mocks. “I don’t know why Kiri and Spider are always up her ass, she’s—”

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam warns. 

“Dude, everyone is always ________ this, _________ that! I don’t understand what’s so great about her—”

A throat clears and the brothers both turn their attention to the newcomer. Lo’ak could groan in frustration seeing that you’ve abandoned your seat and now stand nearby with two wooden plates. 

“They’re going to start cleaning up soon,” you say hesitantly. “Wanted to bring you some.” 

Neteyam takes it graciously from you, nodding his head in thanks while Lo’ak stares down at the plate you’d arranged for him, abundant in vegetables and thick cuts of meat. 

“No thanks,” he says flatly.

You try to coax him. 

“C’mon Lo’ak, you say gently. “I know you haven’t eaten yet.” 

“No thanks,” he repeats stonily, holding his hand up. 

You offer up the plate again. 

“Lo’ak–“ 

“I said no thank you,” he grunts, annoyed. 

He’d only meant to push it back towards you, but one second it’s in your hands, the next you’re wearing dinner, the plate clattering onto the ground. 

“Lo’ak!” Neteyam scolds. 

“Shit, I didn’t–”

“It’s fine,” you breathe an airy laugh and Lo’ak freezes when he hears your breath hitch. “It was an accident.” 

“Oh, ________…” Neteyam sighs, but you’re picking up the plate and scurrying off, ignoring the nearby snickering. 

“Whatever you got going on, you need to cool it,” Jake scolds him in the family tent after dinner that night. “________ is a good girl, she’s trying to find her place. Can’t really do that if you’re gonna be a jerk to her all the time.” 

Lo’ak resists the urge to roll his eyes because, yet again, someone is sticking up for you, admonishing him about how he could be nicer, how he could take you under his wing, how he–

“What about me?” Lo’ak argues. “I tell her to leave me alone all the time, but she doesn’t listen. Why do I have to be nice to someone who doesn’t respect–”

“Cut the bullshit,” Jake thunders. “You haven’t even tried being her friend.” 

“Why should I?” Lo’ak counters. 

“Because maybe you two are more alike than you’d care to learn,” Jake says knowingly. “Now go apologize.” 

“Dad!” 

“Go, Lo’ak.” 

Lo’ak sucks in a deep breath before squeezing his eyes shut and blowing out through his nose. 

“Fine, fine, whatever,” he grumbles, ducking from the tent into the humid night air. 

He starts into the jungle, fingers brushing over the leaves and petals of the plants and flowers. He takes the moment to regulate his pounding heart in his chest before trying to wrack his brain for any words that he could scrounge into a believable apology. 

When he crosses the glowing waters of a skinny brook, something rustles nearby and his hand is on the hilt of his dagger in the blink of an eye. 

He turns to face the noise, knife drawn, but then you emerge and his body relaxes a fraction. 

“Fuck, ________, you scared me,” he sighs in relief. 

You fidget and swallow down the lump in your throat. 

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. 

A brief silence dawns the two of you and Lo’ak notes that you’ve cleaned up from the evening meal’s debacle, now wearing a longer loincloth threaded with round pearlescent beads that refract the luminescence of the surrounding forest. 

Your grasp tightens around a leather bound journal and for a moment, he wonders what you could be writing about. 

When you follow his gaze, you shyly tuck the journal behind your back and give him an uneasy smile. 

“I wanted to–”

“I came to–”

Your words clash and you breathe a little laugh through your nose as you gaze at him with brilliant eyes. You start closing the distance and Lo’ak’s hands grow clammy. 

“You first,” you offer. 

Whatever threads of an apology he’d crafted in the moments prior have evaporated now that you stand before him, absolutely glowing. 

“Lo’ak?” Your head tilts and his cheeks warm. 

“Sorry,” he says hoarsely. “For what happened at dinner.” 

You shake your head quickly. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” you assure him, reaching out to touch him. 

He recoils, clearing his throat as he retreats to put an ample amount of distance between the two of you. 

You eye the berth and something shutters across your face as you rock back on your heels and flash him another uneasy smile. 

You haven’t even tried being her friend, his dad’s words echo like a call in the night. Maybe you two are more alike that you care to learn. 

Were you? You and Lo’ak were as different as they come, you molded by the love and adoration of the clan, him built up by the lessons and lectures he received from his parents and Neteyam. 

“Where are you going?” you ask, blowing by the previous conversation. 

He shrugs. 

“Dunno,” he admits. “I was looking for you.” 

The way you freeze is almost covert, your lips rolling as you try to hide the smile threatening to split your face. 

“Oh,” you hum. “Wanna go for a walk?” 

No, he wants to say. He absolutely does not want to spend anymore time with you than he has to. Likes to believe that he wouldn’t even bat an eye if he were to never see you again, but you’re looking at him expectantly and his dad’s words are like a mantra in his head, so he agrees begrudgingly. 

It’s awkward at first, silent except for the natural soundtrack of the vicarious jungle. But like you do so well, you break the silence and Lo’ak has to resist rolling his eyes for the third time that night. 

“What are your favorite colors?” you ask suddenly. 

“I dunno, green?” he offers. 

“Are you sure?” you laugh quietly. 

Lo’ak thinks a moment before nodding his head. 

“Yeah, green,” he finalizes. “And blue.” 

He barely notices that you’d fallen behind, and when he turns to look over his shoulder, he sees that you’re scratching something into your little journal. 

“And your favorite fruit?” you press, nose still between the pages. 

Lo’ak breathes out a laugh and your head shoots up. 

“What? You gonna send this list to the lab?” Lo’ak asks.

You give him a shy smile, shifting on your feet. 

“No,” you say softly, then whisper to yourself, “just compiling a list to win your heart.” 

Lo’ak barely hears you, ears twitching as his eyes narrow in confusion. 

“What?” he asks. 

You snap your notebook shut, shaking your head quickly as you pad through the grass to catch up to him. 

“Nothing.” 

Something ripples in the fabric after that night, you and Neteyam both notice when Lo’ak enters the training clearing the next afternoon and greets you with a nod instead of flat out ignoring your presence like he had the last training session. 

And you think that the moment is fleeting, a one off, but as the days progress, you realize that maybe Lo’ak is finally softening around you. 

He stays for entire lessons, the most minute of smiles twitching at his lips whenever you compliment his shots. He waits near the edge for you as you pack up your things, and while the walk back to the village is a quiet one, you bask in his company, triumphant when he doesn’t run off. 

And while your evening walks are few and far between, you savor the moments he affords you, wedging yourself between him the crumbling walls of his facade. 

Tonight is one of those moments, sitting on adjacent branches overlooking the lively forest, when Lo’ak lets you peek farther into his life than he’d originally intended. 

“He never understands,” he sighs, popping a few berries from his satchel past his lips. 

Tonight’s topic is his father and you listen intently, eyes fixed on the way he reclines on the branch and looks up at the stars. 

“I try hard, you know? To make everyone proud, but all they see is my failure,” he says, obviously annoyed. “No matter what I do, it’s not good enough.” 

“You do great things, Lo’ak,” you say quietly, the first words you’ve said all night. 

And like your voice is a reminder, Lo’ak’s spine goes rigid, throat bobbing as he realizes that he may have said too much to you. He’s getting too comfortable and you’re all the willing to absorb every insecurity and every worry he has. 

But something about quiet moments like these makes him loose-lipped, eyes fluttering to where you’ve got your notebook balanced in the seam of your thighs, scrawling something on the pages as you eat your own berries. 

The words are leaving him before he can stop them. 

“Easy for you to say,” he murmurs. “You’re perfect.” 

The laugh that escapes you startles him and a few of the berries he was about to devour slips from his fingers and plunk down the leaves.

“I’m not perfect,” you assure him. 

“Only someone who’s perfect would say that,” Lo’ak grumbles, peering over the edge of the branches to spot his fallen fruit. “The whole village loves you, everyone’s always so ready to bat for you.” 

You look down at the pages of your journal with a sad smile. 

“It’s a lot of pressure,” you admit quietly. “Everyone’s watching your every move, waiting for you to mess up.” 

Lo’ak shifts uncomfortably.

You continue. 

“And most of the villagers our age don’t like me,” you say, thumbing one of the pages. “They say I kiss ass, that I’m always trying to keep a leg up.” 

Lo’ak winces, knowing that he’s the source of at least one of those sentiments. 

“The elders think you’re honorable,” Lo’ak argues gently. “You’re talented, you have something to offer the people.” 

“Honor means nothing if you’re bound by it,” you say finally, closing the cover to your journal. “If anything, I want to be more like you.” 

“Like me?” Lo’ak asks incredulously, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

You nod, smiling at him. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I think you’re brave, fearless. And even if you care what people think, you do what you want.”

Lo’ak is quiet, taken aback by your confession.

Before he can respond, you’re gathering your things, bidding him a warm farewell as you begin climbing down the tree to disappear into the night. 

After that night, you think that maybe you’re just imagining things, that you’re reading too much into the fact that Lo’ak has begun to finally act like you exist, but then Kiri says something and the hope sends your heart soaring. 

“Seems like he finally got his head out of his ass,” she says a few mornings later as you two stand near a shallow stream, eyes peeled for any fish you two could bring back to the village. 

“Think so?” you ask nervously, arrow trapping the flailing fish to the pebbles of the stream’s bed. 

Kiri shrugs. 

“He actually pays you mind now,” Kiri observes. “That’s a step up for sure. I think you just need to spend more time with him.” 

You smile, splashing through shallow waters to capture the fish and add it to the growing pile in the basket between you and the middle Sully. 

“Yeah?” you wonder

So you test the theory, basket filled with various peeled fruits and a little container of nectar you squeezed from the petals of a flower. 

It doesn’t take long to hunt him down. When you enter the training circle, he’s packing up his things, quiver strapped to his back and bow in his fist. 

Before you make yourself known, he’s turning on his heel to face you, eyes wild as he swallows down the lump in his throat. 

He’d be the last to admit that the last night you two spent together was branded in his brain, that his mouth had dried up so much so he felt his tongue could crack.

There were so many implications in your words and it horrified him, scared him so much that he knew he couldn’t let you that close again. 

But now you stand before him, pretty as can be, hopeful even, and he’s at a war with himself, absolutely caught between resenting you for being everything he’s not and giving into the draw. 

“Hi,” you greet, basket heavy in your hands. 

You look more radiant than usual, skirt brushing the forest floor, the woven vine of your top banded to expose your midriff. 

“Hey,” he replies hesitantly. 

“Where you going?” you ask curiously.

His throat bobs as he gestures behind him. 

“Hunting,” is all he says.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” you ask eagerly.

He doesn’t. He shouldn’t. Because things are shifting and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to stomach the change. If he’ll be able to admit to himself that you’re wearing him thin, that you make him feel things he’s never felt before and that it makes him feel like he has no control. 

Because when it boils down to it, you make him lose control, make him lose his filter, and make him feel every emotion twice as hard. 

“No,” he says.

And in that moment, you feel like you’re back at square one, watching as his eyes turn stony and his jaw sets firmly. 

“You shouldn’t go hunting on your own,” you say softly. “Will someone be with you?” 

“It’s fine,” he argues. “I’m fine.” 

“I can go with you!” you offer. “I thought maybe we could sit by the stream and talk, but we can go hunting instead. We can–” 

“No,” he says again, pinning you with eyes so lethal, it makes you wonder if you really had imagined the moments you shared with him, if you had imagined Kiri telling you that she saw it too. 

You try again anyways. 

“It’ll be good practice and–”

“I said no, ________,” he barks. “You’re dead weight and I want to be alone.” 

Your lips seal and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

Lo’ak could nearly scream in frustration when he notices the way your shoulders sag and it makes something in his heart cinch. 

“Okay,” you agree, nodding quickly. “Be safe and–”

The words die on your tongue when you notice the look of annoyance on Lo’ak’s face. 

Lo’ak is in deep shit, you come to find out hours later. 

You sit outside of the training circle, knowing that Lo’ak will return down the path after his hunting trip. What you don’t expect, however, is Jake and Neytiri emerging with the entire line of Sully kids and Spider.

Jake grips the back of Lo’ak’s neck tightly as they march past wandering eyes, straight to the family tent. You don’t miss his wounds though, varying in depth, some bleeding, some sore. 

You’re hot on their heels, standing right outside of the entrance as Jake tears into the middle Sully. 

“Time and time again, I have to get on your ass for doing the complete opposite of what I ask you to do!” Jake’s voice is thunderous inside the tent. “Do you not realize that you not only risked your life but your sisters’ too?”

There’s a beat of silence before Jake continues, obviously pacing from the way his volume fluctuates. 

“And what were you thinking bringing Tuk? She’s nine, Lo’ak!” he shouts, the anger and the hurt evident in his tone. 

“I’m sorry,” Lo’ak mumbles. 

“Yeah, I bet you are!” Jake scolds. “I don’t ask for much. All I want is for you stay in line. Just stay out of trouble and work hard on your training. I paired you with ________ and Neteyam in hopes that maybe you’ll tighten up and be more like them, but you’re always disappointing me.” 

You frown. 

Whatever Lo’ak had done probably didn’t warrant such deep admonishment and something tugs especially hard at your heartstrings knowing that all he wants to do is make his dad proud. 

“You’re surrounded by good influences, but you always have to go against the grain, Lo’ak,” Jake says, the edge in his tone softening. “I’m getting tired of the bullshit, son. You need to clean up your act. Hear me?” 

“Yes sir,” Lo’ak says quietly, voice almost a whisper behind the hide of the tent. 

“Now go get yourself cleaned up,” Jake huffs. 

Your spine is straightening when you hear foot steps closing in, holding your breath as the flap to the tent billows open and Lo’ak is emerging.

His eyes flit to yours and his expression sours further. 

“Lo’ak,” you murmur, reaching out to him. 

He’s shrugging you away, wincing when a wound on his shoulder stretches especially taut. 

“You’re hurt,” you say quietly. “I’ll–”

“Leave me alone,” he says, eerily level. 

“But you’re–”

“I said leave me alone, ________,” he warns, pushing past you in what should be the pursuit of his grandmother’s quarters.

Instead he’s making a beeline for the jungle. 

You’d seen the look in his eye before he stonewalled you, seen the hurt and heaviness that most people didn’t seem to notice because he was always so adventurous and carefree. 

You follow after him. 

“Lo’ak, you know he’s only worried for you,” you try to reason gently, fingers reaching for his own as you duck under massive leaves and fluttering insects. 

He whirls to face you, swatting your hand away. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he bites. “You don’t know anything.” 

You swallow, holding your hand to your chest as you watch him lay down every brick to wall himself off. 

He hates it. He hates how you look at him, how you seem to pity the life he has to live. It makes him sick, thinking that you two have it the same. He’d rather be hated for being great than hated for being a let down. It’s insulting, how you think you know how it feels. 

“Let’s go back. I’ll wrap your wounds and–”

“Of course, clan’s golden girl is gonna patch me up and make it all better, huh?” he seethes facetiously. “Just fuck off!” 

You flinch, blinking at the boy you holds so much rage in front of you. 

“I know you’re hurting, but you don’t have to be mean,” you whisper, taking in a shuddering breath to will yourself not to cry. 

“Mean? Mean?” Lo’ak bristles. “I’ve tried telling you to lay off nicely, tried telling you to just leave me alone, but you don’t listen. You just pry and overstep and you make every little thing about you! Oh, it’s so much pressure, villagers our age hate me, of course they would! You already have everything and just have to go rub salt in the wound!” 

You shrink, eyes welling as your lip trembles. 

“Lo’ak, stop,” you whimper. 

“We’re not friends, ________.We never were and we never will because I don’t like you,” he spits. “Now please, for the love of god, will you just leave me alone!” 

The forest is silent save for Lo’ak’s ragged breathing, fists clenched as he glares down at you. 

“I-” Your breath hitches and you choke out an apology. “I’m sorry.” 

Lo’ak’s heart softens a fraction as you take a step back, turning quickly on your heel. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you rasp, tripping over your own feet as you stumble into a run, putting as much space as you can between you and the middle child who stands in the middle of the forest, unable to wrangle every harsh word he’d said to force back down his throat. 

You dropped your journal. 

Lo’ak is sure you’re looking for it, know that you’ve always got your nose stuck in it. You had dropped it running off and now he has its leather bound in his hands. 

It’s been a couple of nights since the faithful evening he’d blown his top and he’d only seen whispers of you. It was so unlike you to disappear, to not be entertaining the masses as they fell to your feet. 

He’d cooled off significantly, and when he replayed the conversation in his head, he winced, body folding in on itself as he realizes how harsh he’d been. 

“Are you actually thinking thoughts?” Spider claps him on the shoulder, startling him so badly he drops the journal. 

It lands spine down, the pages fluttering open. 

He chances a peek before Spider is rounding his lithe figure to pick up the notebook. All he makes out is a rough sketch. 

“You write?” Spider asks, intrigued. 

“No, it’s ________’s,” Lo’ak answers. 

“Oh, your little girlfriend’s?” 

Lo’ak gives the human a cross look, snatching the book from his grasp as he stands up.

“Trouble in paradise?” Spider pries, scurrying to keep up with Lo’ak’s long strides. 

A beat of silence before Lo’ak finally answers. 

“Made her cry,” he mumbles, embarrassed. 

Spider winces behind him. 

“You serious?” 

Lo’ak sighs. 

“Yes, dude, fuck,” he breathes, hand coming to the back of his neck. “I don’t know what came over me. Dad was ripping me a new one and Neteyam already chewed me out before they got there and she was being annoying, so I just…” 

“Bro,” Spider scoffs in disbelief, scratching the back of his head. “You’re a real dickhead sometimes.” 

Lo’ak’s eyes wander as he shifts uncomfortably, feeling incredibly small as his friend glares up at him. 

“I mean, I told her I wanted to be left alone!” Lo’ak tries to defend weakly. “I- I didn’t mean to.” 

“She likes you a lot, dude,” Spider reiterates. “She just wants you to like her back.” 

Despite the glaring signs, Lo’ak has trouble believing that your feelings for him far surpass charity work. They couldn’t, it was impossible. Because at the end of the day, you’re you and he’s…him. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but Spider beats him to it.

“Did you at least apologize?” 

Lo’ak squirms.

“Dude!” 

“Look, I know, I know,” he tries to assuage the situation. 

“________ is literally the sweetest girl in the entire clan you just–“ 

“I get it, bro, I get it!” Lo’ak huffs. 

“Get your head out of your ass,” Spider says. “She might not stick around long enough for you to realize.” 

“Realize what?” Lo’ak snaps. 

“Are you really gonna play stupid right now?” 

He blinks at the human. 

“You like ________,” Spider says matter-of-factly. “You always have, ever since we were kids.” 

“Oh, piss off,” Lo’ak grumbles.

“Dude, you’re literally my best friend, but I sometimes I wanna shove my foot so far up your–”

“I do not like ________,” Lo’ak says sharply. 

“Everyone sees it but you, dipshit,” Spider scoffs. “You like her, but you’re scared. She’s perfect and she intimidates you. Think she’s gonna see you for what you really are and turn her back on you like everyone else does when you fuck up, but she’s not like that, Lo’ak. She’s been there whether you like it or not. But she might not always.” 

Lo’ak swallows down the knot in his throat, fingers tightening around the notebook. 

“Everything clicking?” Spider asks knowingly. 

Lo’ak throws him a final narrowed glare before stalking off. 

It’s Lo’ak’s birthday and just like every orbit, he spends it alone in the forest.

At first, he’d been burdened with the weight of hurting your feelings, but now his conversation with Spider weighs heavy on him as he climbs dirt walkways and flowered paths. 

It doesn’t help that your notebook weighs heavy in his satchel, a silent reminder that he still has a piece of you while you cling to his peace of mind. 

I think you’re brave, fearless. They’re the words you uttered to him that fateful night you turned the reality of you two on its axis. 

As he splices all the moments you two shared like a reel, he realizes that it’s endless. That you’re always there, you’d always been there, like a layer of impenetrable atmosphere surrounding him. 

He really should apologize, he knows this much, but you’ve disappeared like a wisp of smoke. Training sessions have returned to a sibling affair and he’s too prideful to ask about you. 

It’s almost eclipse when he begins making his way back for the evening meal, knowing that a scolding will await if he arrives even a minute late. 

After what had happened with you, he was lying low, trying to diminish his blip from the radar.

As he closes in on the village’s main circle, he notes that it’s quiet. A little too quiet. It puts him on edge, makes him draw his bow and feel around for an arrow in his quiver. 

A few more paces and he’s broken into the clearing, a few stragglers milling about. Another half a dozen steps and it’s like the forest melts into a celebration, whorls of blue pouring into the circle as villagers begin trilling. 

Lo’ak is hoisted into the air as the dying fire in the center of the camp begins to slowly roar. 

“Happy birthday, baby bro!” Neteyam caws loudly as they begin jostling him into the air, chanting and dancing as the dense crowd of clanspeople celebrate him.

It’s like time slows as he peers from side to side eagerly, seeing the way Spider, Kiri and Tuk dance happily among his people. Jake and Neytiri stand near the fire, smiles wide when they see the look of awe on their middle son’s face. 

When he’s finally set on his feet, he wobbles, childlike as he turns, taking in the glowing streamers that crisscross between the tents. Flowers of green and blue thread through the vines, gleaming like lamplight as the forest buzzes around them. 

“Wha– What is all this?” Lo’ak croaks in disbelief, eyes flitting wildly as he notices Norm and Max standing next to a table they’d hauled from the pod to the circle, piled high with meats and vegetables wrapped in leaves. 

A platter of yovo fruits, his favorite, are at the center, surrounded by a painted sign with his name and the handprints of dozens of villagers on it. 

“You survived another orbit!” Neteyam laughs heartily, head-locking the younger boy before roughly digging his knuckles into the top of his head. 

A laugh bubbles from Lo’ak’s lips, swatting his brother away as villagers and clan members he’d grown up with approach him one by one to greet him. 

As the night progresses, he doesn’t even realize he’s searching until your mother approaches and his spine goes rigid, cheeks warming under her piercing gaze. 

“From my ________,” she says, setting a pouch into his palms. “She toiled over these for many eclipses. Please take care.” 

Lo’ak’s nod is delayed as his satchel shifts on his shoulders, a dull reminder that your journal still remains with him, begging to be read. 

“Where– Where is she?” he asks suddenly, feeling your absence all the more now that your gift sits in the palm of his hand. 

“My daughter does not feel well,” your mother says simply. “She wished to be excused from the festivities.” 

His chest feels hollow, stomach tight as his cheeks burn. You’d mentioned this to him, all those days ago in the training circle, about wanting to celebrate with him. 

His eyes flit to the flowers looped through the vines, the mountain of yovo fruits, the gift in his hands. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous. Doesn’t want to fuel the tiniest ember of hope in chest, but he can’t help it. 

He can’t help but read into it, into the implications of this celebration you’d planned all for him, into every word you uttered to him in the quiet of the forest’s chirping. 

It’s all it takes for him to lock himself in his own head. The feast melts into the background, dull, as his eyes cut the crowd for you. 

You have to be here, gotta be hanging around the outskirts silently. The idea taunts him, makes his gut twist hard as images of you dancing in the circle, singing to him, celebrating him, loving him—

Lo’ak freezes, blinking incredulously at the thought that’d just crossed his brain. It makes him queasy, makes the regret and the guilt gnaw at every nerve ending as your crying face flashes like an unwanted slideshow in his brain. 

It’s all he can think about as the festivities die, as villagers begin turning in the for the night and he helps his family clean up the aftermath of another orbit finally finished. 

Spider helps Tuk and Neteyam near the fire, and as Lo’ak moves through the motions like he’s caught in a tide, Kiri watches, knowing all too well what consumes her brother’s mind. 

It isn’t until Lo’ak is shrouded by the stillness of the early morning, his family tucked in their tent, bodies and limbs splayed as they sleep together, that he sits in a swinging hammock, your journal and the pouch in his lap. 

It feels wrong, the way he thumbs the cover, working up the courage to turn it open. But Ewya, fate, would have never left it in his wake if it wasn’t meant to be read.

As his finger ghosts the etchings of the front cover, worn and loved by you, something tickles his leg as he admires the leather. He blinks in disbelief when he sees a singular woodsprite resting against his thigh. 

Before he loses his nerve, he’s opening the pages with bated breath. 

Recipes, nature notes, short thoughts fill the sheets and Lo’ak feels like he’s reading into your brain, seeing all the little things no one bothers to know. 

he is like the sun,

shines so bright,

but burns the closer you get. 

Lo’ak’s pointer finger glosses over the ink, over your curly handwriting. 

he is so incredible, but he doesn’t even know it. i want to shout it to every creature in the forest, every tree and every flower. oh, how i wish to be as fearless as him. 

His chest heaves as the words blur. 

Fearless. 

Fearless. 

Fearless. 

In this moment, he feels everything but. He feels like a coward. 

He continues to flip, throat lodged as he sees drawings, both rough sketches and full renderings. He hadn’t even known that you liked to draw, yet here he was, observing his home through your artistic eye. 

Flowers, leaves, trees, creatures, insects, fruits mar the stained papers, etched like it’d been caught in real time. 

likes green and blue. 

likes yovo fruits. 

The entry from the day you’d first walked with him through the forest. 

When he turns the page, his breath hitches. 

In full color, you’d captured his bullseye from your first training session. His back taut from the release, expression shaded stoic. He looked mighty, like the strongest warrior, and it was all through your eyes. 

Lo’ak doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the bullseye in the illustration bleeds from a fallen tear. Another one drips from his chin, then another. 

The next page is the night you two had poured your hearts out to each other. Again, in full color, he’s watching the stars. You don’t leave out the glow of the freckles that smatter his face and body, don’t miss the smile that plays at his lips as he quietly points out that his dad had come from a star. 

He flips again and different iterations and designs for what seems like jewelry litters the pages, shaded with different colors of blue and green, marked with varying notes, x’s marking through ideas you didn’t like. 

Lo’ak remembers the pouch, sitting untouched in his lap, and his shaky fingers undo the ties. He shakes the contents on the flat of the notebook and the most intricate beadwork fits into the crease. 

His eyes widen as he picks up the necklace in a trembling hand, the eclipsing sun catching the etching in the flat stones. 

Four five-fingered hands and four four-fingered ones, each separated by jewels scavenged and cleaned from the bed of the glowing river. 

A small scroll flutters from the pouch and Lo’ak chokes back as sob as he unrolls the hide. 

Happy Birthday, Lo’ak. I am always grateful to know someone like you. May your next orbit be filled with endless blessings from Ewya and may you see yourself how I see you. 

You see him, he realizes. You’re his supporter, a silent force that consumes every insecurity and swallows every doubt. You believe in him more than he believes in himself. 

He stands from the hammock and runs. 

You’re sitting in the same tree the two of you had rested in the night you’d confided in Lo’ak, watching as the sun eclipses and begins to light up the sparkling forest.

Something rustles and you sit up, hand on the hilt of your dagger as you search the area for movement.

As your eyes lock on the source, you almost wish it had been a beast coming to devour you whole. But as Lo’ak climbs the branches of the tree quickly, you feel the dread begin to solidify in your veins. 

You take your satchel, hanging from a nearby branch and sling it over your shoulder, pulling your shawl over your head to prepare for your escape. 

“________, wait,” he chokes breathlessly. “Please.” 

You feel like crying all over again, feel so unbelievably stupid thinking that Lo’ak would ever see you the way that you see him. 

You pause a beat as he settles on the branch across from yours, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. 

Something glints in the sun and your eyes widen when you see that Lo’ak has fastened the necklace you made him around his neck, right above the the leather chain that holds his beloved claw charm. 

“You’re wearing it,” you whisper, lips twitching into a frown as you try your best to keep your tears at bay. 

“I’m sorry, ________,” Lo’ak apologizes hoarsely. “Fuck, you don’t understand how sorry I am.” 

The tears well on their own. 

We’re not friends. We never were and we never will. 

The words haunt you like a broken record and you shake your head, moving from your perch to move down the branches. 

“Wait, wait,” Lo’ak pleads. “Please don’t go, I–”

“I hate you,” you whisper. “I hate you, Lo’ak.” 

He freezes, watching as you balance on a branch below. 

“I tried so hard to be your friend,” you whimper, angrily wiping away your tears. “You’re amazing. You’re strong, and you’re fearless, and you are everything I want to be, but you’re heartless.” 

Lo’ak lets out a shuddering breath, a chill running down his spine as you look up at him like he’d smashed every star in the sky. 

“I wanted to be with you, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “I hoped that maybe if I stuck it out, you’d see how much I cared, how badly I wanted to be with you, even if it was from a distance.” 

“I do, _________, I do!” he argues. 

He hadn’t always, but he sees it now. He sees you. 

You shake your head again.

“You don’t,” you sigh, voice trembling. “It’s my fault anyways. You were right. You told me to leave you alone and I was being too much.” 

“Stop–”

“Let this be the last time,” you assure him. “Let’s just– Let’s pretend we never met.”

“No, _________. Wait!” 

You’re climbing down the tree and disappearing into the brush and, like a fleck of ash, you’re disintegrating into nothingness. 

Most people think he’s being moody, that he’s just been scolded by his father or older brother, but Neytiri knows better. 

She sees the way her son has changed over the course of the past few weeks. She knows there is a great burden that he carries, but much like her beloved and her eldest, he suffers in silence. 

“Maitan,” she says quietly, brushing a braid from his face as he folds the leaves around a chunk of steaming meat. 

Lo’ak pauses almost imperceptibly, but continues his task. 

It isn’t like him to stay home and work with Neytiri. If anything, he’d be the first one out of the tent, Tuk, Spider, and Kiri tailing after him as they galavant through the endless forest. 

“Something weighs heavy in your heart,” she tries again, hand coming over his. 

Lo’ak stops and leans back, unable to meet his mother’s searching gaze. 

“I hurt someone,” he says quietly. 

Neytiri stiffens.

“What?” 

“I hurt someone I care about,” Lo’ak admits. You’d called him fearless, strong. He needed to live by your word. “I hurt her and I don’t know how to fix it.” 

“Oh, Lo’ak,” she murmurs, squeezing his hand gently. 

Her face has softened as she takes in his stony expression. 

“My son, some things cannot be fixed,” she says honestly. “But all things require great effort. Sometimes those efforts will fall through, but that is the natural order of life.” 

Lo’ak swallows. 

“Whoever this special person is, if you have hurt her, she deserves the full effort of your heart, no?” 

You do, he knows you do. You deserve every last effort. But a niggling streak of insecurity tells him that you don’t deserve someone like him. You don’t deserve someone who takes your affections for granted. You deserve someone who will love you with every breath, who will love you fearlessly. 

“I really messed things up, Mom,” Lo’ak says quietly. “I don’t…” 

Neytiri’s hand comes to Lo’ak chest. 

“The night I first met your father, Ewya gave me sign,” she says. “He has a pure, strong heart. You do too.” 

Lo’ak swallows. 

“Be brave, Maitan,” she says. “Sometimes that is enough.” 

Lo’ak’s fingers hurt from picking berries.

His cuticles bleed, pricked by the thorns of the fruit’s bush. Kiri hums beside him, weaving a little bag out of ropes of thin vines. 

“You’re not gonna help me?” he whines. 

“Why should I help you with your mess?” 

You look beautiful under the glow of the evening meal’s crackling fire. It’s the first time you’ve emerged since before Lo’ak’s birthday feast and you’re being flocked by elders and villagers, wishing you well and asking about your supposed ailment. 

He sits across the fire, fists tight as he searches for a lull in the crowd. 

Spider snickers next to him, devouring the contents of his plate like he’s starved, watching Lo’ak’s useless pining like a show. 

Be brave. 

He’s standing to his feet before he can back out, crossing the circle to approach you. The villagers watch like they know something he doesn’t and the nerves are eating away at him as he steps into your space. 

You look up from your conversation with a girl your age, the smile slipping from your lips. 

“Can we talk?” Lo’ak asks, eyes wandering to watch the way everyone watches him. 

You remain jaded.

“Now’s not a good time,” you say quietly and a few onlookers snicker in the background. “________,” Lo’ak tries again. 

You stare up at him, the shadow of the fire dancing over your features as you seemingly look right through him. It’s humiliating, the way you remain seated and watch him fidget, but he figures he deserves the cold shoulder after months, years of casting you to the side. 

“Let’s go?” you ask the girl, nodding your head over your shoulder. 

The girl chances a glance between you and Lo’ak, noticing the telltale sign of your work etched into the stones of the choker he hadn’t taken off since his birthday. 

She gives him a sympathetic smile as she follows after you. 

He’s going to have to try a lot harder than he has, he realizes as your birthday looms right around the corner. The next eclipse, in fact. 

He’s losing hope, losing courage, but he can’t give up on you two just yet. 

He makes sure the berries he picked the days prior are packed tightly in his bag, the lid to the nectar fastened, and his present wrapped nicely. 

It’s his last hope, his last shot to make things right. 

Spider, Tuk, and Neytiri surround him, Neteyam and Jake off on a hunt. 

They’d all been privy to the fact, aiding him in his endeavors as he organized his final grapple with your heart. 

“Kiri said she’ll bring her right before eclipse,” Spider says, peeking from the flap of the tent. “That’s in, like, minutes.” 

Lo’ak is nervous. Doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you for good, but he knows he has to give it his best effort. It’s the least you deserve. 

Be brave. Sometimes that is enough. 

Lo’ak glances at his mom and she gives him a warm smile, ruffling his braids. 

“You are the son of Toruk Makto,” she assures him, pinching his cheek. “There is nothing you cannot do.” 

The words are carved into his brain as he rushes through the forest, the the stream that the curls and bends through the forest. It glows beautifully at night and that is his final push. 

“Wait, give me like three seconds, I left something.” Kiri’s voice is muffled behind the trees. 

“Huh?” Lo’ak sees the way your head tilts through an opening in the foliage. 

“I’ll only be a second!” 

“Wait, Kiri!” 

Kiri is running straight for him, comes barreling through the bushes, and continues down the path. 

“Good luck, egghead!”

Lo’ak takes in a final breath to quell the tremor in his hands before ducking through the bushes to reveal himself. 

You’re sitting on the embankment, on a woven mat that Kiri had laid out for you two, decorative vines edging the seams. 

“Oh, you were–”

You peer over your shoulder and your expression falls. 

“Lo’ak…” 

“Happy birthday, ________,” he breathes. 

You don’t look amused, slinging your bag over you shoulder as you rise to your feet. 

“Kiri and I are hanging out,” you tell him. 

He scratches the back of his head. 

“I…I had Kiri bring you here because I knew that you wouldn’t come with me if I asked,” he admits. “And of course, I don’t blame you, but I– I just really need to talk to you.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, unable to look him in his eyes as he draws nearer. 

“Just give me some time, please,” he pleads. 

You finally meet his gaze, searching his eyes as he looks down at you earnestly. 

You give him the tiniest nod, reluctantly shedding your satchel to reassume your seat on the mat. 

The waters rush gently, like a song as Lo’ak lowers himself next to you.

His palms are clammy as he fidgets in his seat, the scent of herbs and flowers wafting from your dewy skin. He can’t bring himself to look at you, afraid that every sentiment he’d crafted in the hours of the night will escape him, so he watches the bubbling of the stream. 

“Well?” you whisper, like you don’t want to shatter the fragile sheath of peace that layers you. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I know I’ve said it already, but I really am, ________.” 

“I know,” you murmur and his gaze flits to yours. “Even if you don’t act like it, you have a good heart, Lo’ak. You feel everything, even the things you don’t want to.” 

He swallows.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says carefully. “I was mad and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.” 

You sit silently, knees hugged to your chest. Your cheek rests against your knee, watching Lo’ak with seeing eyes. It makes him trip over his words. 

“My whole life, I’ve always been compared to Neteyam,” he says. “The entire village would whisper about me and how I was nothing like the mighty warrior.” 

When he glances at you, he notices your fingers twitch, like you want to reach out to him. 

He squashes his fears and turns to face you, five-fingered hand coming up to thread with your four. You watch the union, uncertainty obvious in the way you tense, but Lo’ak squeezes. 

“And then when we started growing up, you were just another person I had to live up to,” Lo’ak whispers. “You’re perfect, ________. You’re kind, and you’re smart, talented. You’re everything I’m not and it made me hate you.” 

You shrink, but Lo’ak pulls you towards him, hand coming up to brush your cheek. 

“But you’re all of that and more,” he continues, the words gushing like a river. “You’re always there, you support me and you defend me and see things I don’t.” 

You become shy under his gaze because for the first time, he’s seeing you. He’s seeing you for every single thing you’ve been to him and it makes your stomach knot. 

“I have something to tell you,” he says. “Please don’t be mad at me.” 

Your gaze is soft, palm still in his as he turns and reaches into the bag he discarded next to him. Your eyes widen when he produces your notebook, edges curled the slightest as he hands it to you. 

“My journal,” you say, taking it from him quickly. “I’ve been looking for this. Why- Why do you have it?” 

He looks guilty, lips rolling as he avoids your gaze. 

“Did you…” 

“I wasn’t going to,” he admits. “But there were woodsprites and I knew it was a s–”

“Lo’ak this is private,” you murmur incredulously. “Why would you read this?” 

“How long, ________?” he asks quietly, grip on your hand tightening. 

“Lo’ak, don’t–”

“How long?” he presses desperately. 

Your eyes are watering, like that wicked night all over again and Lo’ak begs Eywa for the final push. 

“Since we were ten,” you whisper brokenly. “It was my first performance and it was so stupid, but I was throwing up because I was nervous and you talked me through it.” 

Lo’ak is stunned, the memory like the faintest of outlines. 

“We didn’t even know each other that well,” you hiccup. “But you patted me on the back and you gave me this–”

You pull your fingers from his grasp and flip the journal to the last page, revealing a hidden pocket. Your nimble fingers pull a tattered string, the remnants of a vine, threaded with wilted flower petals, preserved from being pressed inside your notebook.

“You said that they made you make it during lessons,” you say, breath hitching. “That it’d be my good luck.” 

He’d forgotten all about the memory completely, too caught up in driving whatever wedge he could between you two, building up walls to seal you out. 

“And you kept it this whole time?” he asks, face scrunched in disbelief. 

“I’d hold on to anything you give me,” you admit in defeat. “Heartbreak included.” 

He lets out a shaky breath. 

“________, I’m so sorry,” he repeats, hand coming up to your neck. “You have to know that. I’m really fucking stupid, but if you give us a shot, I won’t mess it up.” 

Your hand comes up to his wrist, crumpling as you bow your head. 

“Don’t do this to me,” you beg, moving to break away from him. 

“Please.” 

His hold tightens, other hand twining with yours. 

“If I…if I give myself to you, I’m giving you everything,” you say hesitantly. “If you break this, you break me. I don’t think I can come back from this.” 

Lo’ak presses his forehead to yours, breath warm against your lips as he searches your gaze for any semblance of hope. 

“This is me being fearless, ________,” he whispers. 

You melt, pressing your lips to his tentatively. He’s frozen for the shortest of moments before relenting, pushing up onto his knees to deepen the kiss. 

He’s cradling your face and your hands are wandering and Lo’ak can’t help but think he could get used to loving you. 

To being loved by you. 

BONUS

“I was gonna give it to you on your birthday,” Lo’ak says sheepishly a few nights later under the stars. “But, you know…” 

Your usual place among the branches of the looming trees have a lot of memories both bitter and sweet, but you suppose you could make new ones. 

“You don’t have to give me anything,” you say sweetly, tail swishing to wrap around his ankle. “You’re all I need.” 

Lo’ak doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to your saccharine words if the pounding in his chest is anything to go by. 

His hands are shaky as he pushes the hide towards you, a bow made of vine tied neatly around the gift. 

“Wanted to,” he says simply, moving the hair from you face to see your reaction better. “Open it.” 

You’re gentle with the present, like you are with most things, but eager to see what he’d gotten you. 

A tiny gasp falls from your lips when you finally see it, wide eyes meeting his as you free the jars of paints he’d mashed up, the brushes he fashioned, and the brand new journal he bound himself. 

“Lo’ak, wow…” 

“So you can paint me more,” he says, then adds timidly. “Or maybe us. Maybe you could paint us.” 

an — holy shit guys, this was such a big project for me because i really wanted to dive into so many different things in this fic. to everyone who was waiting patiently, thank you sososo much. as usual, i took a lot of creative liberties with this one, but i hope you guys enjoyed nonetheless! although requests are paused for me to catch up, like always, if you wanna chat with me about literally anything, my askbox is open. lots of love hehehe :) xx

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neng © 2023

taglist: @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn

[katiesyellowcardcollection]

i’ll drive, i’ll drive all night - part two

Katie McCabe x reader McCabe

(teen younger sister)

part 1 part 3

Trigger warnings: a lot of talk about sexual assault and self blame,references to self harm and minor reference to suicidal thoughts, overall just poor mental health

AN: Not the best writing, it’s more of just me trying to put my own feelings and experiences into words. Also i have dyslexia so spelling/grammar isn’t the best sorry 😅

You wish you never went out that night, most nights you stay awake wondering what would life be like if you didn’t go out if you had just stayed home to watch katie play for ireland on tv like you had planned, if you had accepted your brothers offer to hang out for the day, if you hadn’t needed to go to the bathroom that night, if you had worn something less ‘sluttier’, if you didn’t put on so much makeup.

You blamed yourself, how could you have been so careless, you know the risks of going to parties at your age with people who your barley knew nor trusted, if you had followed your mams rules it wouldn’t have happened, if you weren’t so stupid and ignorant you’d never had been in that position. You shouldn’t have gone up the stairs with him trusting that he was just showing you to the bathroom, you knew better then that you should have known better.

Even now as your sat cuddling katie your head hidden away in her arms, tears streaming down your face, you can feel him, sense him, you know your being dramatic and it was your fault you knew this but it doesn’t make the feelings any better, you pull apart from Katie suddenly feeling trapped, the air feeling quite thick making it even harder to breathe then it already had been, you were panicking now it felt like the world was caving in in you, like you was suffocating as though your lungs were caving in.

“bug can you hear me? sweetheart i need you to take a deep breathe in for me, come on breathe with me, watch my chest y/n”.

Following katie’s words you watch as her chest rises up and down slowly, you notice her exaggerated breathes as she tries to get you to follow her breathing pattern, to try and get your breathing back to a healthy state, eventually after watching her chest for a few more minutes and having katie whispering soft words to you, stroking your forehead as she does so you, you can feel your breathing returning back to normal.

“We don’t need to speak tonight sweetheart, how about you go up to the spare room and just get some sleep, we can talk tomorrow alright?”

You agree instantly no longer wanting to talk to katie about what was happening, you weren’t to sure that you’d even be able to explain to her what was going on in your mind, although your fairly certain she just about understood what you were referring to before you broke down.

“go upstairs kiddo, i’ll be up in two minutes just need to lock the house up alright and then i’ll get you some clothes to get changed into”

Slowly you make your way upstairs, going into the bathroom to your face out, washing away any evidence that 10 minutes you’d been crying into your older sisters arms.

You look briefly in the shower, spotting the pink razer on the shelf, you don’t use it in the way you’ve been using razors recently instead you just stare at it, you want to use it so badly, so badly it almost hurts, you wanted to get away for a while, for everything to just go numb for a least a couple minutes

“Y/n can i come in”

The sound of Katie’s voice makes you jump dropping the razor into the sink as you do so. You’d been so close, so close to using it, it scared you how easy it was for you to find things to hurt yourself, but also how easily it was for you to do it, without having a care in the world you could mark your skin permanently and that scared you in fact it horrified you, how easy it was for you to lose control.

Hearing the door click open, you turn around from facing the mirror looking at katie who was now stood in the bathrooms door way, leaning against the frame, she looked like she’d been crying, because of you, your the reason she’s upset you realise.

“y/n what are you doing?”

hesitant to answer you opt to look around the bathroom, noticing how it’s changed since you’d last been here, the once green walls were painted white and you noticed a newly added bath.

You want to avoid her worried expressions, the way she spots the razor in the sink and not on the shelf where she could’ve sworn it was left, your shaking hands.

“nothing sorry”

Katie’s looks up at the ceiling taking a deep breath as she does so before focusing her attention back on you

“what were you doing with that”

she nods to the razor in the sink, keeping her eyes on you.

“nothing”

Katie rolls her eyes at you, shaking her head.

“you and i both know what you were going to do, i’m not stupid y/n”.

Katie’s reply stumped you, not entirely sure if she wanted you to just say it outright or just acknowledge that yes you wanted to hurt yourself or if that was even what her assumption was.

“Okay you don’t want to speak tonight i get it, you’ve had a tough day, we’ll speak tomorrow alright bug? i’m so proud of you for starting to speak to me earlier though, i love you goodnight y/n, remember im only next door and if you need me or you need anything at all don’t hesitate to knock alright?”

she lets you know breaking the silence, her words hang in the air as she leaves the bathroom, although not before taking the razor with her.

~~~

Getting under the covers in Katie’s spare bedroom, you can hear her soft mumbling on the phone outside your room, you think she’s talking to your mam about you, what she saw in the bathroom and the mess of what happened in her living room.

After awhile you heard katie end the call, you listened as the bathroom door opened and shut, as she turned all the upstairs lights off, as she paused outside your door for a few seconds and then eventually you heard the bedroom door click shut. The house going still and silent.

Once upon time the dark had scared you, when you were still little and innocent, when you thought that monsters lived under your bed so you needed your da to scare them away every night before bed, when your mam would tuck you up in bed in your pink dotted pyjamas and read you stories before giving you a kiss goodnight, turning your night lamp on and closing your door, you’d cry out for your mam or da to come and take you to their bed. Darkness scared you then, not anymore though instead it became something you craved, you lived for when everyone went to sleep and the house went dark and quiet.

It was the only time when you could truly think and feel every emotion of the day, when no one was there to judge you, sometimes you wish you could lay in the dark forever and never get up, sometimes you wish death would take you on your sleep, you wished that maybe this would be the last time you closed eyes, othertimes you remember your still a teenagers and life won’t be like this forever.

Laying in katie’s spare bed starring up at the ceiling you couldn’t sleep, you lay awake in the dark replaying the events of that night over and over again, it was like this every single night, you’d replay your every action that night, what drinks you had, who you had been with, how you could’ve prevented it from happening and it always circled back to that same point you shouldn’t have gone upstairs, you wish you could take it back, wish that you did everything differently, you wish so desperately you were that carefree kid with pig tails running circles around your siblings giggling without a care in the word.

~~~

The next morning was weird, you’d hadn’t slept at all, this had become a common occurrence, in fact you wasn’t sure when the last you had actually slept was, around 8am Katie popped her head round the door expecting you to still be sleeping having not been awake long herself.

Looking up she frowns at you “have you actually been to sleep y/n?” she questions her frown becoming more evident.

you shake your head “no i can’t sleep sorry” you mumble back at her, avoiding her gaze.

Katie so desperately wanted to know what was going on with you, she wants to know why you can’t sleep, why your getting into trouble constantly, and she needed more clarity on what you were trying to tell her last night, she already had an inkling to what you meant and it broke her heart, knowing that someone had stripped her baby’s sister innocence away from filled her with a kind of rage she’s never experienced, how could someone do that to her? her carefree, loving, kind, beautiful sister.

“i came in to let you know that cait has practice today but i’m gonna stay home with you alright? we can have an open and honest conversation okay?” she says smiling up at you “and you don’t ever need to say sorry for struggling, i love you”.

You nod in agreement getting out of bed as you do so, following katie down the stairs.

walking down the stairs you wonder what the conversation will be like later, what she’s going to say to you, what her reaction will be to you basically ruining your life, for spilt second you wonder if she’ll be angry at you, yesterday was the first time you’ve ever seen her anger directed at you, she never shouted at you, not even when she was a moody teenager wanting to be alone she had always made time for you, played with you when the others said no, ma used to tease her for it “y/ns got you wrapped round her finger Katie” she’d say as you convinced her to play trains downstairs, you had been as close as siblings could be, even when she left and moved to london you were still close, visiting as much as you could and going to as many games as school allowed, you feel bad realising you’d never given any explanation to your older sister, you just stopped calling, stopped visiting, she hadn’t done anything wrong you just didn’t want to talk knowing that she’d having you poring your little heart out in minutes of hearing her voice.

“Morning y/n” caitlin shouts enthusiastically startling you “would you like some toast? or cereal?”

“No thanks i’m not that hungry sorry”

this causes both caitlin and katie to frown, “you didn’t have dinner last night y/n and you probably didn’t have lunch either” Katie says butting in, you nod in agreement “i didn’t but i’m just really not hungry kats” you tell her sincerely not wanting to keep lying to her face.

“okay but your having something soon and i will not be taking no for an answer” she lets you know giving you a pointed look.

~~~

You and Katie had had a pretty chill morning, neither of you yet to address the talk that was supposed to be happening. Katie had made you come with her to drop caitlin off at training stopping at Starbucks on the way home, despite the chill morning your nerves were at an all time high waiting for katie to start the questions, you knew you weren’t going to get away with lies and so you’d gone through exactly what you wanted to say and how you wanted to say it.

it was around 12 when katie paused the tv show you’d been watching and came over to sit next to you calling coopurr over in hopes to give some comfort.

“Ma wants you to come live me” she lets out looking at your face for some kind of reaction, she had been expecting you to be angry, taking you away from your home, your friends.

Your not really sure what to say, you think moving away could help you, a fresh new start where no one knows you, you wonder if your ma was washing her hands of you, no longer wanting to be associated with the failure of daughter she now had, you wouldn’t blame her if that was the case however the more rational side of you realised your mam didn’t have a bad bone in her body and if she thought it would help you then you’d do it.

Slowly nodding your head you agree “i think a new start would help me” you tell

her honestly.

Katie hasn’t prepared for this answer, she thought you’d storm out, start shouting at her, she hadnt expected you to agree instantly with zero arguments.

The pair of you sit in silence for a few minutes, you were unsure how to approach the conversation that needed to be had and Katie didn’t really know what to say, how to get you to open up to her”

“Talk to me y/n”

You don’t want to talk, but parts of you know that you’d probably feel better if you did, it was something your ma had rammed into you from an early age, talking always helps.

“i don’t know what to talk about”

For once your being genuine , to much had happened since you’d last saw Katie, to many things were running round your mind that it was hard to pick one to talk about.

“How about we talk about the party”

you wonder if she knew what had happened, you thought it was fairly obvious from what you said the night before, even so you agree”

“he-h-he touched me” you say barley above a whisper “i didn’t want him to but he did and it’s all my fault im so sorry please don’t hate me” you sob out, fresh tears running down your face for what feels like the tenth time since you’ve been in London.

Katie’s wraps you up in a hug as your tears continue to fall, everything that had happened coming back to you, everything you’d have built up coming out in tears streaming down your face.

The look on katie’s face was heartbreaking she already knew what you meant from what you said last night, she wasn’t naive but hearing you say it aloud and blame yourself, apologising to her, killed her, knowing how long you’d kept it in blaming yourself what happened. How could someone do that to her baby sister, in her mind her sister was still that sweet little 8 year old, how could anyone do that to her, she was shattered, that night she had run through all the possibilities of what you could’ve meant hoping praying to god that you hadn’t meant that, she was furious, furious with the boy, furious with herself for not spotting the signs, furious at the universe for putting her sweet baby sister through this.

“Thank you for trusting and telling me baby, it wasn’t your fault, it will never be your fault you didn’t ask for it, what you were wearing or what you drank or how you behaved wasn’t asking for it, you were just trying to have fun at a party with your friends, nobody deserves or is ever at fault for being taken advantaged of, it wasn’t your fault y/n.

You want to believe her, you really want to believe that it wasn’t your fault but you just couldn’t it was like your brain was conditioned to believe that everything that ever went wrong in your life was your fault.

You think Katie gets at what you’re thinking.

“if someone came to you and told you what you told me, would you blame them? would you say it was all their fault”

This leaves you feeling stumped because you know for a fact you wouldn’t, you’d do everything in your power to make them know it wasn’t their fault, to help them just like katie is doing now.

You just shake your head unsure of what to really say.

“Exactly, look at me y/n you were 15 years old, trying to have fun on Tuesday evening like most teenagers do, it wasn’t your fault”.

For the first time since it happened you realised that maybe you weren’t at fault, you started to believe your older sister’s words because yes you had done some some things you shouldn’t have done but you didn’t deserve that.

Katie seemed to have realised that in the last minute or so you’d relaxed more, there were no longer tears running down your cheeks nor were you shaking as much.

“How about you get some sleep y/n, i can tell your tired just close your eyes baby, i’m so proud of you for telling me y/n”

Closing your eyes move over to her side resting your head on her lap.

“will you stay?” you whisper up to her, she smiles and agrees.

“i love you y/n so much my baby sister”

[just-some-random-blogger]

I don't know if you accept requests, but I'm going to risk it. Did you see the last photo of Harry Collett and Tom Taylor (the future Cregan Stark)? Could you write a Harry/Jace x reader x Tom/Cregan threesome? I'm obsessed with them

Push & Pull

It's basically Lannister tradition to create a scandal on your nameday, or maybe that's just you.

Jacaerys Velaryon x Lannister!Reader x Cregan Stark | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, jealousy?, am I the drama!YN, typos, etc.

A/N: hello nonnie! i do take requests, but i dont explicitly state it because ive been having a hard time writing. i had an idea for a jace fic when you sent this, so it felt really timely, but then that fic i went to die 💀✋ so im tryna revive my spark writing smth else. i know you said a threesome but i just 💔 the best i can do is them tryna one up each other. I AM SO HYPE FOR THEM FR FR but i didnt really see the actors' photo together, just them in the trailer

"Is that the older Velaryon boy?" I mutter to my brother in between taking a sip of wine.

Jason turns where I'm looking and takes a sip of his own wine, "indeed."

"He's rather easy on the eyes, isn't he," I smile at my Jason.

He raises a brow, "and you are rather engaged, aren't you?"

"Engaged to be engaged," I shrug, looking around the room again, "and I do not even see our man of the hour anywhere."

"Lord Stark is travelling here from Winterfell. One would expect him to be late."

"Are you not the same brother of mine that said impressions have their weight in gold?"

Jason narrows his eyes, "clearly that was Tyland."

I roll my eyes at him and look away. I quickly turn back to Jason after I notice something, "oh, look. He's coming over."

"Lady Lannister."

I avert my gaze from my brother, to Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, who gives me a nod in regard.

"My prince," I smile and curtsy.

He smiles back then turns to my brother, "Lord Lannister."

Jason raises a brow and nods curtly.

"If your sister will allow it," Jacaerys turns to me, "I would like to ask her for a dance."

I giggle under my breath. I share a look with my brother. Jason assesses my expression before turning back to the dark haired man, "my sister is not accepting dances this moment."

I turn to Jacaerys as he gives me a questioning look, "may I enquire why?"

"I hurt my ankle," I mutter, "whilst getting off the carriage."

Jacaerys' forehead visibly wrinkles, "you took a carriage here?"

I purse my lips into a soft smile, "I did."

"To Casterly Rock?"

"I was visiting a lady friend who lives not too far from here."

"... I see."

Just as Jacaerys says this, the doors open, and Lord Cregan Stark's arrival is announced as he walks in. As he swaggers in, I am struck by a delicious idea.

"On second thought, my prince," I extend a hand, "my ankle is feeling rather better now."

I feel my brother give me a dirty look, but before he can say anything, I am whisked away for a dance.

Jacaerys leads me as we dance, holding my hand firmly as we glide across the floor, and pulling me closer than what was needed when the movement called for it.

The truth was, I didn't mind it, but there was nothing I loved more than putting a man in his place.

"You're being quite familiar with your touches, Jacaerys," I mutter when we as close enough.

I see his eyes light up when I call him by his first name. He chuckles, "can you blame me for wanting to be so?"

I hum as he spins me around, "I doubt many refuse your advances anyway, with the life of a princess up for prize."

Jacaerys ends up behind me as we continue with the dance. I feel his breathing as we continue with the next steps. Once we pull away and face each other again, I speak, "it is an honor to be the first."

Jacaerys looks at me in confusion when I curtsy rather than take his hand. I smile, "I have another waiting on me," then walk away.

It doesn't take long for me to weave my way out of the dancing bodies, nor to find the said person waiting for me.

I press my lips together into a soft smile as I approach the towering man, "Lord Stark."

Cregan nods and extends a hand, "my lady."

I take his hand and smile when he kisses my knuckles, "I do hope your travels were safe."

Cregan straightens up and tilts his head, "safe?"

He takes a step forward and brushes my knuckles, "I arrived to see my future bride ensnared in the jaws of a dragon."

I clasp my hands together and raise a brow, " I believe the Velaryon's sigil is that of a seahorse."

"And I believe he is set to inherit the throne after his mother, the king's appointed heir."

I purse my lips and lock eyes with Jacaerys from across the room. A moment later, I turn back to Cregan and smile, "political talk has always bored me."

He shifts on one leg, "I would not bore you on your nameday."

"Then dance with me."

Cregan takes a second, then offers me a hand.

Not a moment later, the two of us are dancing with the rest of the crowd. Cregan is much more wary with his touch, more courteous, and modest.

I cannot help but tease him with lingering touches and with the bat of my lashes, "you are surprisingly graceful for someone of your stature."

Cregan chuckles, hands gripping my waist with more intention, "perhaps the same could be said about you, my lady."

I raise a brow, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, with your injured ankle and all."

I tilt my head, eyes locked on his as we change partners. I keep my attention locked on Cregan as I come back to him the next measure.

"How do you know that?"

He tucks my hair behind my ear, "your brother told me as you danced with Jacaerys Velaryon, how you humored him, despite your reluctance."

We spin around and switch partners again.

This time, I cannot keep my attention on Cregan as I find myself face to face with Jacaerys, himself.

He immediately speaks, "I did not know you were waiting upon Cregan Stark."

I do the steps with him and purse my lips, "why would you need to know who I wait upon?"

"I thought I made it clear," the corner of his lips quirk, "I wish to be familiar."

I chuckle, taken slightly off guard, "and I thought I made it clear that I did not."

Jacaerys' hold on my hip lingers, "did you?"

My breath hitches when he pulls me flush against his chest, arms around my waist as we twirl. He breaks away, seconds too long, and we change partners again.

Except I don't, and neither does Jacaerys, for then the music finds its completion. We stand in front of each other, staring, as the rest of the room breaks into applause.

"I would like to share another dance with you, my lady," says Jacaerys.

"She is already spoken for," another answers for me.

I peer up at Cregan as he comes between us. He blankly stares at Jacaerys. It lingers and becomes rather painful. Eventually, he gives him a nod in regard, "your grace."

"Lord Stark," Jacaerys clenches his jaw before nodding back.

I stare at them as they stare at each other for another prolonged moment. I purse my lips then sigh, "I am actually feeling rather parched. Would you two boys like to pour me a drink?"

The two of them turn to me, but before they could respond, I'm already heading off to the banquet table. My brother's eyes shoot daggers at me as I approach.

[fishsticksloser]

Since we have sfw mating season turtle's, what about a nsfw one?

HEAR ME OUT-

(Feel free to ignore if your uncomfortable or your too busy to do it)

Mating Season Pt2

Future RotTMNT x gn!reader

Warnings: smut ish, fluff, feral turtles, talk about rough sex, talk about biting/marking, wounds mentioned

A/N: I'm not gonna write small little drabbles, but I will go more in depth

Donnie

He still had precautions

But you insisted on helping him

Who was he to say no?

He went through everything his species does during mating season

He explains that you will have to be under water for an extended period of time

That he can bite and scratch

Donnie really really wants to make sure you're okay with everything that might happen

This is a huge step in your relationship

It doesn't matter how long you've been together, Donnie would never ask you to be with him during this time

You can tell it's starting because he gets more affectionate

Normally kissing your neck more

He talks about the way you smell

But when the time comes, you're there with him

He made sure there were things for you to do, things for your safety

Like oxygen for you when you're underwater

He made a really big nest for you

When you see it, he grins like a little kid

He made it for you after all

If you don't show that you like it, he'll tear it apart and restart

Donnie bites a lot

He does accidently scratch you a bit, but that was just because he was trying to hold on

He's also fiercely protective

He growls and snaps at literally anything

When he sleeps, he's wrapped around you, not allowing you to leave

You're his

When mating season is over Donnie is affectionate

He feels so bad for biting and scratching you

Being rougher than normal

He'll try to convince you not to join him again

Leo

Obviously there were still precautions

Can't have the boss going feral now can we?

Leo tried not to show when it's coming on, opting to remove you from the situation completely

But it doesn't work, he needs you too bad

Leo gets overly touchy

He taps your butt, your hips, your chest, your neck, your face

He whispers in your ears about how good you look, how you smell, how soft your skin is

The few nights before his rut actually starts, he's goes at it with everything he has

He mumbles about how pretty you are under/on top of him

But he keeps it passionate, not rough

When his rut actually starts it's a different story

He's loud

Moaning, whimpering, and... yes, talking

Leo is rough, but tries to make it pleasurable for you too

He's still a talker even when not in the middle of coitus

The tapping becomes a bit harder, more consistent

Mostly tapping your face, hips, and butt

He still whispers in your ears, but its more about what he wants to do to you, how pretty you look while he takes you

Leo bites a little, he still has some control of himself

If he feels like he's going to bite, he'll find something else to bite

The nest he builds is relatively small, but so comfy since he's allowed to have pillows and bulky blankets

When it's over, you better believe this man is worshipping your body

He'll cover any bite or scratch in kisses, making sure you feel loved beyond measure

Mikey

Since he's gotten older, it's gotten a bit worse

He's still pretty normal, but he can get territorial

Someone touches you (even by accident) or is talking to you?

You might wanna take him back to your room

He gets hot, literally since his ninpo is fire based

Mikey acts pretty normal until something happens to you (like stated above)

It's best if people stay away from you, especially his brothers

Leo has had a scar on his right arm (cause that's his prosthetic now) from Mikey attacking him after he helped you with something

Why specifically his brothers?

Because they're turtles too and they're too much like him so what if they try to steal you

That's Donnie's theory at least

The nest he builds is comfy and warm

He really likes having you in it all the time so it stays warm

He'll crawl in and snuggle with you, letting our tiny chuffs

He's not a biter at all during rut

Mikey does scratch a little, but its more when he's trying to hold on

He still has a lot of control, so he tends to be very loving and passionate

But on his bad days, he's slightly worse than Leo

He defiantly still talks, overall he's almost completely normal except for the territorial and protective aspect

Afterwards, he almost cries

No... He does cry over what he's done to you

He really needs reassurance that you're okay

Mikey will give you lots of cuddles and kisses a little while after they heal

Raph

He gets a bit like this

He also gets worse as he grows

Whereas when he was younger, he was pretty chill

Raph gets more territorial

People steer clear of both of you because of how big and scary Raph is

He tends to become a bit mindless, focusing on only you

He sniffs and nuzzles you, chuffing loudly

If anyone so much as looks at you, he growls and pulls you into him

His next is huge to fit his large body

When you see it, he pulls you into the nest, wanting to make sure you like it

It's not as bulky and soft as Leo or Mikey's but not as thin as Donnie's

He is a chaser, he will run after you

It's part of his species mating rituals

Though he does go slower than necessary due to how fast he is

Raph is a biter

The first few times, he bit you hard leaving a scar

Now he tries to get old tires, something else so he doesn't hurt you

He also scratches, trying to keep you close

When it's over, Raph will cry and apologize while he takes care of your wounds

He feels so bad

Like Donnie, he will also try to convince you not to join him again

[your-nanas-house]

A hiss as a promise

◇ Pairing: Older!Ominis Gaunt X wife!Reader

◇ Warnings: mention of breeding, kisses, crotch, Gaunts

◇ Summary: During an event in the house of the Gaunt Ominis is dragged by her wife to another room because she has to tell him something.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. I'm pretty lost lately so I'm struggling so much with writing or anything..sorry if it's bad.

The evening was not like an ordinary, quiet one, the type of evening that the now-married couple liked to spend together behind the walls of their shared home.

It was way far from that given the many voices in the room that filled the room along with the various noises of glasses and cutlery touching porcelain plates belonging to the most prestigious pureblood family, the same family that Ominis Gaunt was a part of and the same family that had organized that anniversary celebration event for some festivity that Y/n still didn't understand, despite being part of that family for several years now.

The halls of the Gaunt house were elegantly decorated in the colors belonging to their family and their Hogwarts house, everything was in its place and everything looked as perfect as Ominis Gaunt's body in that lovely suit his mother had forced him to wear. He was simply divine, with his blond hair arranged, his clothes hugging and showing off his slim and fit body, bringing out his pale skin decorated with tiny moles. It really made Y/n's mouth water, even though they had been married for about five years, she was still surprised by her husband's beauty and the effect it had on her whole body and mind.

She too was dressed for the occasion, a dress her mother-in-law had chosen for her, a dress that hugged her body deliciously and with a soft fabric that was pleasant to the touch, something she knew Mrs Gaunt had chosen just to please Ominis and to show off the family addition as best as she could.

Ominis hated the whole thing but feeling so good his wife's curves when he had the chance to walk past her exalted him, turning something animalistic inside him that he kept hiding all night too focused to not meet or chat with anyone except her.

Now that the young wizard thought about it, he hadn't felt or even sensed her for more than half an hour, which worried him enough to make him move from the hidden corner, he had conquered, to visit his wife with the precious help of his wand, which was glowing red sending the necessary information for him to be able to navigate without collide with guests or his family.

A few minutes passed and Y/n became the one who surprised Ominis, finding him before he could find her, dragging him with a blank expression towards the corridor that led to the guest rooms and bathrooms.

The poor Gaunt couldn't understand what was going on but despite his concern he followed his wife without question, ignoring the voice of his brother Marvolo calling him to tell him or ask him something for which the pale man had no interest.

Main reason because he didn't answer but let Y/n speak and apologize before continuing to drag him by the sleeve of his neatly fitted shirt, towards a path that would have been unknown to Ominis if they had not been at his family house.

As soon as they reached a door, the wizard's body was pushed into the chamber and the door closed with a thud, leaving all noise and guests outside.

Several seconds passed before Ominis was slammed against the door, an action that caused him to let out a small groan that continued as soon as his wife's lips reached the soft spot on his neck.

His large, pale hands moved to Y/n's covered hips, gripping the fabric of her dress in an attempt to hold her closer to him as he asked amused "what's all this need, my dear?" he whispered breathlessly with curiosity,stiffening slightly at the answer.

"The period has come, I was bored and I checked the calendar" Y/n revealed as she continued to leave wet kisses and small bites on her husband's skin "breed me, Ominis, fill me with your babies" she pleaded, grabbing his crotch which was still covered by his trousers combined with his shirt for the event.

A guttural groan coming from Ominis' throat escaped his rosy lips, it took a lot of control of him to not come immediately in his trousers at the mere thought of marking his wife's tight walls, perhaps leaving an heir who would surely take her surname instead of his.

Ominis' eyes darkened and his pupils dilated before a command-like hiss came out of his mouth followed by the sudden movement of his hands, which were previously holding the fabric of the dress urgently but gently. They now grabbed her hips harshly, pushing Y/n onto the first surface he hit, noticing it that way, as he moved from his trapped position against the door.

Another hiss came out of his mouth, this time it sounded almost like a promise and Y/n hoped it was just what she thought and hoped.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @huntress-valkyrie , @bewitchedbymadness

[idyllic-affections]

thoughts on lyney and lynette rn bc i would kill to see little sibling reader with them ,m so normal about them i swear i just dnfgohpjykul

the blood of the covenant.

summary. blood related or otherwise, lyney, lynette, and freminet are among the best siblings to have.

trigger & content warnings. non-descriptive mention of injuries, lyney does Not open up and it causes arguments (not depicted in detail; just briefly mentioned), some mentions of crying.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, hurt/comfort. lyney & younger sibling!reader, lynette & younger sibling!reader, freminet & younger sibling!reader. 2k words. they/them pronouns used for reader. reader is a member of the house of the hearth. reader is only slightly younger than freminet; think a month or two younger.

author's thoughts. almost 6 months later....... your wish is my command 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 SORRY IT TOOK ME LIKE A MILLION YEARS TO DO THE AQ...... AND I STILL HAVE ACT 5 LEFT TO DO...... but i think i'm well-versed enough now to write about the twins! and freminet... as a little treat.

lyney is an undoubtedly protective older brother—he doesn't mean anything bad by it, but given his traumatic history and multiple forced partings from lynette... he's grown a bit worrisome. this effect is increased tenfold if his youngest sibling [name] also happened to be sold off to that noble with lynette.

being the eldest means that he is solely responsible for the safety of his siblings (or so he believes—arlecchino herself feels that it's more of a team effort to keep one another safe on missions and in daily life). so, he worries. he knows that all of his siblings are thoroughly capable... but he worries.

tight hugs. god. lyney gives tight and safe hugs. lynette leans more towards fond squeezes—briefly tight, before loosening up into a more gentle hug (she can and will squeeze even tighter than lyney some days, however). and freminet is more prone to hand-holding, little reassuring squeezes akin to lynette's but with [name]'s hand instead of their whole body, but he'll also offer very gentle and soothing hugs if needed.

^ speaking of freminet's inclination to hand-holding, he might clutch their hand if he gets nervous about something... and if they also happen to be a bit shy, as he is, he'll try his best to be as confidently reassuring as lyney is (it doesn't work, but it's the thought that counts, no?). his hand is always open to be held too, though, so if that calms his sibling down... he's more than happy to let them cling onto his hand for a while.

"Are you scared?"

"A little," they murmur quietly, fingers absentmindedly plucking at the threads of their sleeves. "Always a little on missions like these. It doesn't stop me from doing anything, don't get me wrong. I just get... nervous."

Freminet hummed, a soft acknowledgement of what they said.

Then, he held out his open palm, continuing, "Then... you can hold my hand. Until we have to do our jobs."

A bit of their confidence was restored—Freminet could tell, based on the way their downcast expression shifted into something more... neutral. Something more capable of disguising the threat of impending doom, in a way, but he knew that threat was not something for him to worry about. That threat was not for him.

(Some other threat, far more visible on their angry face accompanied by something along the lines of 'Freminet I am going to kill you where you stand Lyney said you ate my leftover food why would you betray me like this' was more likely to be for him.

For the record, Lyney was most certainly a liar. Freminet did not and would not do such a thing to them.

Magic is all about misdirection and trickery, after all. Of course Lyney managed to both misdirect and trick his baby sibling into accusing his other baby sibling of a crime he himself committed.)

They nodded, vastly more confident and assured in themselves, before clasping his hand securely in theirs. His fingers intertwined with theirs, and his thumb absentmindedly ran across their knuckles. "Until we have to do our jobs."

lynette will sneak them sweets when lyney isn't looking... or, tbh, even when he is looking. he scolds her for it every time, but she continues to do it. his chiding has never stopped her before. why would it stop her now?

lynette will also try all kinds of deserts and teas with them!! it's like a bonding activity, in a way. perhaps she and [name] create a little tier list to note down the best bakeries in fontaine and the worst.

"What do you think of this place?"

"Mmh... I don't know." They leaned over to Lynette's side, whispering their secrets ('secrets' meaning criticism that they were too polite to let the bakery owner overhear) into her ear. "Their sweets are kind of... bitter. Maybe the baker was having an off day? I don't know, but it's... not great."

"To the bottom of the list, then," she said simply with no attempt at discretion as she took a sip of her tea. She must have agreed with their criticism, given that she offered no words in defense of the little bakery.

"A— ah?! Lynette, shh! Don't say that so loud!"

kisses!!!! lyney just thinks his baby sibling is the cutest, so he'll fondly pepper their face in kisses if they're okay with it <3 lynette also does this, to a certain extent. it isn't to lyney's level, though. she is far more calm and restrained about it. she may, however, be very inclined to squish their cheeks like a fond grandma might.

it seems... calming for her? she seems to enjoy pinching their cheeks, even if her expression does not show it. maybe it could be compared to a cat kneading its owner. she's also quite fond of giving them headpats for any reason, really—for expressing approval, offering comfort, reassurance...

(it is likely that she picked up said habit from arlecchino.)

anyways.

neither of the twins smother in a belittling way. if [name] is seriously upset by something, or has something of great importance to share (intelligence collected on a mission, perhaps), they both take it very seriously... and if the twins somehow fail to do so, they own up to it.

freminet would be so happy if they wanted to go diving with him! and if [name] happened to dislike the ocean, he would understand, but would want to help them overcome such a fear. he's never going to leave them alone in the water if they're scared. there's nothing to be afraid of, he reassures quietly. why? how is there nothing to be afraid of? well, he will do his best to protect them. he will not let anything bad happen to them.

^ furthermore, freminet would also really love to sit in silence with [name] and toy around with machines and their inner workings. if his sibling isn't adept at it as he is, then he's more than content to quietly teach them and direct them on what to do and how to do it. perhaps there might come a day where they help him out with upgrading pers—whether that be by simply propsing an idea or executing that idea themselves on another machine (it would be so... wrong of them to do something to pers without his explicit permisssion) to visually display what they're trying to explain.

lyney and lynette use their two youngest siblings as something of a practice audience; it helps the twins work out any issues with their tricks, and as a bonus on lyney's behalf, he generally gets to see his little siblings [name] and freminet smile <3

on a more unfortunate note, lyney is notorious for not opening up and not relying on others. this may lead to intense arguments or spats... he may often neglect to apologize verbally (he cannot promise that he won't do it again; he doesn't want to lie to them like that), but he will apologize in other ways—a sudden increase in meaningful gifts for his little sibling, treating them to a meal or multiple meals of their choice, doing menial house chores for them so they do not have to... things of that nature. he feels bad, but he can't act like he won't do it again. he knows he will. lyney is just grateful that [name] is patient with him through it all.

Held out in front of them by their eldest brother was a takeout box from one of their favorite bakeries; he must have asked Lynette about it, they vacantly thought. Taped securely to the top was a Romaritime Flower. Loyalty... was that his way of reassuring them that these little things would not ever truly impact his relationship with and his care for them? They, again, mused that he must have gotten it from one of their other shared siblings—Freminet, if they had to guess.

They frowned. "Lyney..."

He looked a bit worried now. They felt a little bad for inducing that kind of anxiety, but they did not waver. "Do you not like it?"

"I do. It's not that," they reassured, shaking their head as they gingerly took the box from his hands. "I just wish you could rely on us more. You wouldn't need to go through all this trouble to apologize if you just... relied on us. All of us, Father included. That's all."

He doesn't say anything to that.

They gingerly set the gift down onto a nearby table. Then, they turn back to their brother and—to his surprise; he assumed they were still upset with him—wrapped their arms around his waist, head resting on his shoulder. His hands were frantic as they scrambled to secure their place around [Name]'s shoulders.

Lyney squeezed. It wasn't tight enough to hurt them at all, but it was tight enough to put a bit of soothing pressure on their body. Maybe it was another way of his to apologize wordlessly, without committing to the promise of never doing it again, or maybe he was just concerned that they might not forgive him this time and subsequently relieved when they did.

(He should know better after all these years, but... really, what kind of a brother might he be if he didn't worry about making amends with his younger sibling after doing wrong to them?)

It was silent for a moment. They simply basked in the warmth their brother provided, while he basked in the newfound freedom from the weight upon his shoulders that their forgiveness provided him with.

...

Then, they whispered, "You know I love you, right?"

He didn't have a chance to respond before they swiftly untangled themselves from his embrace, swiped his hat from atop his head, and darted out the front of the building that they were in.

Oh, so that's how it is.

He smiled fondly to himself as he waited, offering them a brief headstart.

He would catch them eventually; he always did. However, as Fatui agents... this little game of theirs, some variation of cat and mouse, could go on for hours—days, even, if [Name] happened to be taking it especially seriously.

Well, then. He may as well entertain their whims and antics (and really, they probably got it from him, so he has no right to complain about the monster he made; he often did things of this nature to all three of his siblings, and he had been doing this with them specifically since they were little).

It's the least he can do, he thinks.

lynette can often tell right away if something is wrong with [name]. she notices even the smallest things. at a moment's notice, she is ready to sit at their side and brew tea to share. if they want to talk, she is more than happy to listen, humming quietly every now and then to remind and reassure them that she is paying attention.

should one of [name]'s missions ever go wrong, ending with them injured... their three siblings are by their side as soon as possible, and lyney's probably first, followed shortly by both lynette and freminet.

they all want to know what happened, of course, but they don't push it if [name] isn't feeling up to the task of talking. their health and comfort always comes first.

freminet will offer pers as comfort, if they need something to hold that isn't a pillow. it tends to make him feel better, so maybe it will have the same effect on them. he does this whenever they're hurt—mentally, physically, or otherwise. if his sibling is in pain, he'll do what he can to help.

and if tears are shed... archons, they're all so worried :(

tears will never be shed in front of father, of course, but... it's different if it's in front of their siblings. none of them cry often—even very rarely in front of one another—so it is certainly worrisome when it does happen.

and though tears are rarely shed in front of one another, lyney, lynette, and freminet are all more than ready to help soothe the soul of their youngest sibling, regardless of whether that means letting them rant their heart out or simply sitting in silence by their side.

please consider reblogging and leaving kind tags or comments, it helps me out quite a lot!

[prettiestdolliestgirl]

i blinked and suddenly, i had a valentine

pairing: Mike Schmidt x reader

tags: wholesome, fluff, short oneshot

synopsis: it’s your first ever Valentine’s Day having a valentine and Mike wants to make it the best day possible

-> inspired by valentine by laufey

A/N: i wrote this in a hurry because i really wanted to write a little something for Valentine’s Day so here it is! hope you’ll enjoy it! <3

Mike and you have been dating for a few months now, you moved with him and Abby a month ago, it felt like a dream come true. You never fell this hard for anyone before, you weren’t scared to picture a future with him and Abby. Abby loves having you around and you love playing with her, doing her hair, and making fun of her older brother together while he burns dinner in the kitchen.

Mike never saw Abby be this comfortable with an adult that wasn’t him before and it only made him love you more. He also knew Valentin’s day was approaching and he knows you love romance, Mike doesn’t have a lot of money but he really wanted to make this day special for you somehow. On the other hand, you weren’t expecting anything, you know Mike is extremely tired from working tirelessly, taking care of the house and Abby, he barely has any time to rest. So, because of that you weren’t expecting much, being able to spend the day with him was already more than enough. You’ve always been a hopeless romantic and knowing that for the first time in your life, you were going to spend Valentine’s Day with someone that you were head over heels for felt like the greatest gift you could have ever received.

You wake up to go to work with soft kisses all over your face, you open your eyes to see your lover and his sleepy brown eyes looking at you. You can’t help but smile widely, you don’t recall ever being this happy before. « Happy Valentine’s Day babe » he whispers, smiling back at you.

You get up to wake Abby up for school and you all eat breakfast together. You all leave the house and hop in the car, drop Abby off at school, and then Mike drops you off at work, you kiss him goodbye and get going.

You couldn’t help but think about him all day, you were so distracted that it made your coworkers smile, they were really happy to see you finally get the love you deserve.

Mike got to work and couldn’t help but feel anxious. He wanted to make this day great for you, he even called Vanessa multiple times for advice. She told him that he just had to make you feel special which confused Mike even more but he really wanted to make you feel loved so he decided to do as best as he could with the little money he had saved for the occasion, I wasn’t much but he’ll make it work he thought.

He even arranged his shift so that he could be home before you and surprise you properly and asked Vanessa to take Abby for the night for a sleepover which she was delighted by.

As his shift ended, he quickly got home and assembled a board with all of your favorite snacks on it, he rented your favorite movie and got you a pretty box he got at an antique shop you love. In the box, Mike put pictures of you two together and some with you and Abby, he also wrote a sweet note which was the hardest part for him, he has the hardest time when it comes to talking about his feelings but he always felt the need to tell you how much he loved you. He looked at the hour and got going to pick up Abby from school before that went to the florist to pick up a small bouquet of your favorite flowers and a tulip for Abby. She looked quite happy but she was even happier when he told her he was dropping her off at Vanessa’s for the night. He has a quick chat with Vanessa who reassures him that you were going to love everything he did for you.

Mike gets back in his car and goes to your workplace to pick you up. You wave your coworkers goodbye and hop in the car excitedly. As you enter the car you notice Abby isn’t in it and you ask « Where’s Abby? » Mike answers « At Vanessa’s, I dropped her off before coming.. I figured it could be fun for us to have the house to ourselves tonight » with a slight smirk. You were increasingly excited now, you hadn’t had time alone with Mike in quite a while now and you were undoubtedly looking up to it. Mike drove back home and you sensed that he was quite nervous. You head back home but as you turn around you see Mike with, in hand, a small but tasteful bouquet of your favorite flowers Mike had hidden in the truck. « Mike! You really didn’t have to! They’re so pretty, I don’t even know what to say! » you say. Mike smiles widely in response.

You enter the house and notice everything Mike had planned during the afternoon. You look back at him and can’t even function enough to word anything so you jump in his arms, hugging him tightly. Then you pulled away and kissed his face everywhere, «  I love you so much Mike, no one ever did anything like this for me before » you say as you pulled away from his face. « One last thing, » he said getting the box, « I know it’s not much… but you hope you like it. ». You open the box and a single tear rolls down your cheek, « Mike… I… I love it… I really do » you say, your voice almost not coming out.

As you finished thanking Mike for the 13th time, you both got comfortable on the couch and enjoyed snacks while watching movies cuddled up against each other, you both felt safe and in love. You’re glad you waited this long to have to fall in love because would never want another person than Mike as your first-ever Valentine.

[thewulf]

Always & Forever || JJ Maybank

Summary: Request - Hii. Love your work. It's so good. I'm feeling a good hurt comfort fic with the obx cast. Could I get a JJ Maybank x reader (maybe john b's younger sister?) where she's lost everything after they assume John B and Sarah are lost at sea... Read Rest Here

A/N - Ohhh this was kinda hard to write. Being sad is a bitch. Please let somebody know if you're sad/getting sad. People love you! Always remember that <3

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Y/N

Word Count: 2.3+

TW: Talks of depression, being sad, not eating etc.

You barely heard the soft knocks on your bedroom door. Currently, you were huddled underneath the comforter of your missing older brother just hoping and praying he was okay. They’d officially called it. Lost at sea. Presumed deceased. Dead. Just like your fucking father. How was this your life? Two years ago, you had the world with the two coolest guys on the earth. And now? Now you were alone. Utterly fucking alone. It’d only been three damn days, but they gave up. There was no funding for a poor pogue boy from the wrong part of the island. Sherriff Peterman just gave you a sad look when she broke the news to you a few days prior. Or it could’ve been yesterday. Time didn’t matter anymore. Nothing really mattered anymore. You were a sixteen-year-old girl alone as fuck in this cold ass world.

“Hey little Rout.” You heard JJ’s kinder than usual voice from the other side of the door, “You need to open this door or I’m going to have to pick the lock. Need to see if you’re okay. You haven’t been at school and Mrs. Smith is getting worries, she said she’s going to report you.” You heard the soft sigh of utter defeat as he waited for a moment for you to respond. To do anything. You didn’t have the energy to respond so instead you just laid there.

“Come on kid.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname he’d long since used on you, “You need to come out. Get some fresh air. You can’t stay in there forever.”

Nothing. You just couldn’t. Depression was a hell of a thing. You just couldn’t fathom getting up and unlocking that door. Your brain knew you should. But the actual thought of moving seemed like a foreign concept you weren’t ready for sure yet.

He didn’t give you much else of a choice as you heard the lock click. You knew it wouldn’t take him much effort to get it but alas, you just couldn’t care. It didn’t seem to matter. Nothing else mattered. John B was all you had left and now you sat here empty and void.

“Oh Y/N…” His voice trailed off as he spotted you withering away underneath a mass of blankets. A blank stare on your face. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes feeling grossly ashamed you let it get this kind of bad.

“I just…” Your voice croaked out as it hadn’t been used in while, how long you hadn’t used it you really didn’t have a clue.

He shook his head kneeling down beside your bed, “It’s alright mins.” His head was close as he smiled at you with a smile that never reached his eyes. A smile he was putting on for you. He took his hand brushing your knotted hair away from your sunken face.

Mins. You wanted to laugh. It was the first good emotion you had felt in a while. Mins was your current nickname of quite the long line of ever evolving nicknames from the blonde-haired boy. First it was mini-Routledge, then it was mini-JB, then mini and now mins. He didn’t use it all too often anymore, only when he thought you needed it. And you needed it more than ever now. All his love and everything he could give to you.

JJ knew just how much John B meant to you. He was your best friend. The two of you did everything together, practically inseparable. Even when JB met JJ they still included you in on everything. You were his shadow. That didn’t change as you got older. You just had to play it off as something different.

“I’m tired JJ.” You sighed letting your eyes close in front of him. The effort to keep them open was beginning to become too much.

He frowned deeply. This wasn’t like you. You were usually so full of life. The one who wanted to go and do things. The one who called him lame when he didn’t want to try something new with you. You were the one that kept the group going. And now it felt like everything was falling apart. The pogues were without their people and they needed you back.

This was your way of shutting down and he knew it.

“When was the last time you ate honey?” He asked while trying to brush the knots out of the hair he could get to. You were never particular about your hair, but JJ knew how badly knots hurt to get out. He remembered that one time when the both of you were younger, you crying when your dad tried to brush out some gnarly knots after JJ and JB tried to teach you how to surf one afternoon. It broke his heart even as a twelve-year-old boy. He had that same protective love that JB had over you.

You sighed trying to remember, “Before we found out he was missing I guess.”

JJ’s eyes bugged. He knew he should’ve checked in on you sooner. Damn the pogues who told him to leave you alone. That you needed space. You clearly didn’t need space. You needed help.

“That was three days ago Y/N.” His blood felt like it was running cold. How could he let you lay here for three entire days? JB would fucking murder him if he found out. Some friend he was.

You hummed in acknowledgement, “I’ve had some water though. Haven’t been hungry.” You admitted to your concerned friend. Your voice finally started sounding more like your own after the hoarseness had worked its way out.

“Well, that’s a start mins.” He sighed brushing his overgrown golden hair away from his eyes, “Can you get up for me? Get you some soup downstairs or something?”

“JJ.” You whined not feeling up to the task, “I’m too tired. I don’t feel like it.”

He took you hand in his and wanted to cry from how cold it was. You weren’t right. No, you were suffering, and they just let you. He felt nothing more than a piece of shit seeing you so broken, “I’ll carry you. I just need you to eat something honey. John B would be sick with worry if he knew you were starving away.”

“Don’t talk about him.” You turned away from JJ feeling your own blood run cold at the mention of your missing older brothers name. You couldn’t fucking believe he chose to leave you. Fuck, you couldn’t believe he’d ever put Sarah in that position either. It all felt like a fever dream you had to wake up from. But you weren’t waking up which meant this was a sick and twisted reality that you didn’t want to participate in anymore.

“Y/N…”

You shook your head on your pillow, “Please JJ. Don’t talk about him. I can’t take it. Not yet.” You felt the tears that had long since dried up come flowing back in an instant. Why in the hell did he bring out these feelings in you so effortlessly? Leave it to your older brothers cute as hell best friend that was certainly off limits. JJ would never, ever feel that way for you anyway.

“Alright honey.” Honey. That was a new one. You’d heard him use it sparingly on girls in the past, but it certainly was never used for you. But he’d used it a few times in the last few sentences sending your overly tired mind reeling in another direction. He was just being kind, that was all. After all, your older brother did just fucking vanish into thin air, “Can you please get up for me? Please mins? I need you to eat something. Whatever you what. Please?” He added one last please to let you know how dire he felt.

You rolled back over to him exerting far too much effort in doing so, “I don’t think I can.” You sounded defeated as the tears started once more, “I’m so tired J.” You whispered trying to contain the sob that wanted to escape from your throat.

“Cause you need to eat honey.” He spoke with nothing but concern on his face, “Let me take you downstairs? You need to move. Need to be somewhere new. Need to get some calories in your body.” He said so matter of factly you weren’t sure if it was JJ in front of you. But then again, for as much as a mess the boy normally was he thrived in crises situations such as these. He always seemed to know exactly what to do.

“Yeah, that’s fine JJ.” You knew he’d win eventually so it might be best to just give it up.

He let out a subtle breath of sure-fire relief as he scooped you up into his arms. You were light. Far too fucking light. God, he was such an idiot. He knew you better than any of the other pogues. Of course, you needed help.

He set you down at the messy table filled with whatever shit JB had likely left there the week prior. You grew tired of always cleaning so you just started leaving it. Your eyes scanned the table full of junk. A sad smile formed seeing his homework scattered about with an unpaid parking ticket next to it all. He’d never get to finish that homework. Never would have to lie his way out of that ticket. Why him? Why your JB?

“What do you want to eat honey?” He asking running a hand up and down your arm. Attempting any form of comfort for you. He saw the sad look in your eyes as they scanned the table. He had to get your mind off of JB in any way he could.

“Why are you calling me that?” You asked instead of answering him. It was driving you nuts, and you had to know. In your right mind you’d never

“Honey?” He asked, a bit taken aback by your sudden brazenness. The you he knew would never have asked him that. Instead, you would’ve asked JB. Something you couldn’t do anymore.

You nodded in confirmation feeling your eyes droop and your mouth open to yawn. JJ cursed internally making the decision of canned soup for you knowing you needed to eat as soon as possible. Light and easy and calories. That’s exactly what you needed.

“I don’t know mins.” He admitted while heating up your food, “It just felt, feels right. I can stop saying it if you’d like.”

“I didn’t say that.” You spoke back in almost a whisper.

“Honey it is.” He grinned while putting your warm, not overly hot, soup in a bowl. He set it down in front of you waiting for you to eat.

“I still like mins too.” You added admitting to him just how much you did like the nickname. He’d stopped using it as much now that the two of you had gotten older. You’d forgotten just how much you’d liked the nickname. Probably because it was a nickname only you could have. A special one from the boy you surely loved but vehemently denied.

“Noted, now eat mins.” He grinned pointing to the bowl.

You nodded not really sure if your hands would agree with your brain. You were so utterly fucking exhausted. Turns out you did need to eat if you wanted to be able to function. Because it felt like a task you’d never be able to start. As much as you tried your arm just wouldn’t cooperate.

“Mins?” He asked seeing you not really making a move for it.

“I can’t JJ. It’s too much.” You hated to admit how disgustingly useless you felt. Yet here you were.

He nodded in understanding, “Here, let me.” He took the spoon from the bowl and held it front of your face. For the first time in three days, you relished in the taste of food. It did taste really good. And damn, you were a lot hungrier than you realized. Before you knew it the bowl was gone, and you were entirely full.

“Thank you J.” You let your eyes close once more feeling the outright exhaustion of the situation come down over you.

“Anytime mins.” Seeing your eyes close he noted your fatigue, “Why don’t we sit on the couch and watch a movie?” He suggested hoping you’d agree.

“That sounds nice J, I may need your help again.” You let out a frustrated sigh at the state of your condition. You did start feeling a bit better but the thought of walking or even crawling made you shudder.

He shot up from his seat to get you up. He picked you up like it was nothing, “I got you hon. I always do and always will. Remember that alright?” You nodded in his chest doing your best to fight off the sleep that wanted to take you.

“Thank you J.” You whispered into his chest. He set you down right next to him, letting your head fall into his side.

He wrapped an arm around your torso letting you know you were safe and secure. He wasn’t planning on going anywhere without you anymore. Running his hand through your hair he felt a shiver knowing you liked exactly what he was doing, “Always mins. Now, let yourself sleep. We’ll deal with all this shit when you wake up. Together.”

You nodded letting the darkness take over, “Promise?”

“Always and forever.” He gave your head a soft and gentle kiss before the soft snoozes overcame you. He decided he was going to watch you sleep, for however long that was. You were his everything too. He was only just beginning to realize that now. Always and forever. It had a nice ring to it. Forever with you was a life he would dream about. Maybe one day. Maybe after he sorted you through this mess. Maybe just maybe.

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[exhaslo]

Um, hi, this is my first request, so I'm kind of nervous and will probably ramble. I wanted to ask if you could write a Miguel fic where he's the reader's best friend's older brother? Something like in the song 'Stacey's brother' by Mad Tsai, except that the main character is a girl. Er, so basically, reader has been bff's with Miguel's younger sibling for a long time and she and Miguel started developing feelings for each other over time and he wants to tell his sibling, but she's nervous and feels guilty. So then Miguel starts touching her and teasing her whenever she goes over, trying to get her to crack? And then a spicy hookup scene too? But more soft, like a childhood sweethearts kind of thing? Sorry it's so specific, I just want someone else to write it for me 😭. Okaythanksbye!

Awe! Don't be nervous and I love the idea!!! I'll keep it nice and sweet with a little bit of teasing here and there for you! But don't be afraid to make requests!! :D

Warning: Fluff really, teasing, touching, making out

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Since kindergarten, you and Gabriel O'Hara had been best friends. The two of you were like peas in a pod and had to absolute everything together. From then until now, the two of you would always try to be in the same class.

Hell, not even the college life could separate the two of you. Both you and Gabriel had to get into the same college. Once you did, you decided to dorm together, at least you were until his big brother had something to say about it.

You had heard the stories of the big bad brood known as his brother. Miguel O'Hara. Every time you went over to his house, you never saw the man, until now that is. You wanted to find out why his big brother was holding you back from your best friend.

And lord was he your type.

"What gives dude?" You huffed, staring at the large man before you.

"(Y/N), Miguel is mad todaaaaay, he's gonna lecture you!" Gabriel cried out, crawling on the floor as if he was a survivor.

"It isn't like we're together or anything. You know your brother as well as I. He can barely touch himself out help." You said bluntly.

"Ouch, that hurt, (Y/N)."

"This isn't about that," Miguel said with a loud huff, "I just don't think the two of you fools will focus on your school work. You'd just play games all day instead of studying." He admitted.

God, he even sounded fine. You furrowed your brows as you tried to glare towards Miguel. He kept his stern look, towering over you. Whatever girl got with him was lucky indeed.

"Fair enough. Gabriel, why don't you commute from home since you live closer to the college. I'll dorm since my parents are moving out of the city. I can always come over and hang out."

"Here?" Miguel questioned. You glanced at his handsome face,

"Is there a problem?"

"No."

----------

There in fact was a problem. Gabriel was living with Miguel at the time. This was dangerous. Every time you came over, you could barely focus. Miguel was stealing your attention away from your best friend. He was just, oh so fine!

Honestly, you wanted to learn more about Miguel. Sometimes, you purposely went to the house when Gabriel was in class just to play dumb. Miguel offered to have you wait inside for him, but you always chickened out.

But not today.

You honestly thought Gabriel was home when you knocked on the door. The two of your shared a different class and had a project coming up. When Miguel answered the door, you felt your knees grow weak.

"He's at his club," Miguel said as he let you inside. You bit your lower lip, holding your bag tightly,

"Oh, I forgot that was today." You said, plopping yourself on the couch and getting your notes out, "I'll just wait here. We have a project to work on."

"Hm, I remember him saying something about that. What are you working on in the meantime?" Miguel asked as he leaned against the couch, his breathe tickling your ear.

"Biology." You did your best to avoid stuttering.

"Need some help?" Miguel asked as he sat beside you.

You could feel your heart racing as Miguel pressed up against you. His warmth engulfing your side. You were enjoying this. It was hard for you to pay attention as Miguel tutored you. All you could hear was the beating of your heart.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel whispered, his hand against your thigh, "You don't seem to be paying attention."

"Kind of hard, when I have such a good teacher," You muttered.

Miguel just chuckled in response as he stroked your thigh. You scooted closer to him, your hand against his. Your body was getting warmer as you got closer to Miguel. His face was inches away from yours.

"Fiiiiiinally! I thought I'd never be free!" Gabriel gasped, immediately making the two of you move away, "Hm? What are you guys doing?"

"Studying." The two of you said in unison.

----------

You kept going over to 'study' at Miguel's place. Each time, you and Miguel kept getting closer and closer. His hands were roaming a different part of your body while you tried to kiss him. Each time you tried to place your lips against his, something stopped you.

Not this time.

You were sitting beside Miguel, attempting to study. His hands were holding your waist, giving light squeezes every now and then. You were trembling under his touch. You bit your lower lip, leaning into his touch,

"Hey, Miguel," You whispered. Miguel stroked his hands against your back towards your inner thigh,

"Yes, (Y/N)?"

"I want to study something else," You whispered, slowly crawling onto his lap, "Do you think you can teach me this too?"

"I think I can,"

Miguel grinned as you finally kissed him. He hands rested against you waist, deepening the kiss. His tongue pushed itself into your mouth, exploring your wet cavern. You muffled into the kiss, wanting air, but Miguel was dominating you.

"Ugh, what a day," Gabriel sighed as he struggled to open the door.

You quickly rolled off of Miguel, squealing lowly as your skirt lifted up. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he fixed your skirt, his fingers gently grazing over your panties. You felt your heart race as you avoided Miguel's gaze.

"H-Hey, Gab! How was class?" You asked, leaning over the couch. Miguel glanced towards his brother, hiding the fact that his hand was now groping your ass,

"Any news on that test you took?"

"Uh, oh wow. What a beautiful day out. Hey, (Y/N), I just remembered that there is a party going on in the quad. Why don't we go check it out?"

"Sure!" You chirped, trying to ignore Miguel's touch, "Have fun at work, Miggy."

Miguel grunted lowly as he watched you leave with his brother. It felt unfair how he had to hide his relationship with you. You were his precious little girlfriend. You were only a couple years younger, but the fact that Miguel worked full time made his time with you so short. He needed more of you.

-----------

"He'll be fine, let's just tell him." Miguel whispered in your ear as he sucked against your neck. You mewled softly, squirming against his lap,

"B-But he is totally going to sing that deception song," You whined.

"He'll get over it."

"But, Miggy," You whined softly. Miguel hummed to your cries and proceeded to grope your body, "It isn't fun hiding our relationship from him."

"I think it is," Miguel huffed, then heard the door downstairs shut, "He's here. How would you like him to know?"

Miguel smirked as he pinned you against his bed, locking you down with his body. You whimpered, feeling his needy lust and your own. You reached up, kissing Miguel. Miguel held your head, making sure that you left his room exhausted.

"Hey, Migs. I'm going to head over to the library for a bit. If (Y/N) stops by, let her know for me, kay?" Gabriel yelled. Miguel raised a brow, breaking the kiss,

"Why don't you tell her?"

"Well, you're her boyfriend aren't you?" Gabriel yelled.

Both you and Miguel froze and immediately ran downstairs. Gabriel just had a grin on his face,

"C'mon, you're my best friend and he's my brother. I noticed long before you guys even kissed."

"But the song-"

"Sang it at karaoke with the boys," Gabriel laughed. Miguel glanced at your dumbfolded expression and chuckled, picking you up,

"(Y/N), Gabriel's going to be in the library. Guess this gives us more study time."

"Ew, no. I don't want to know!" Gabriel cried out as he ran off. You just laughed,

"Don't worry! You'll be my maid of honor!!!"

"Nooooooooooo!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hahaha, hope you enjoyed!

[suiseisyojo]

Hi! I read your love potion HC and it was so beautiful ❤️

Can I request the same but for Jamil, Rook, Leona and Azul? (If it's too much, you can dismiss the last two)

Thanks a lot for writing such amazing things, it makes me happy to read them, I wish you a good day 👋

a/n: hii thank you so, so much! i just did jamil and rook for this part, but i'll definitely keep leona and azul in mind next time~ ♪ i had a lot of fun writing this, i hope you enjoy!

「jamil viper, rook hunt x gn!reader」 ↳ in which you accidentally drink a love potion and fall for the one who’s always harbored unrequited feelings for you. [part 1 here]cw: angst, suggestive themes (all), reader is based off rajah (jamil)

[jamil viper]

Kalim had been extremely protective over you since childhood—treating you like a little sibling, considering you one of his most important treasures. And because of this, Jamil knew early-on that he could never pursue his feelings for you. It'd be an unforgivable crime if he and you dated.

Yet, even so, he couldn't stop himself from loving you. You were more meek than Kalim ever was, the type who could go along with the flow but needed downtime and preferred a more steady, quiet afternoon. The two of you were similar that way, and you were always attuned to his feelings. You noticed his mood shifts before he could even recognize them, for example; or you knew that he'd rather have more curry on his plate than anything so you'd share yours with him.

When Jamil heard you'd drinken a love potion, panic suffused through the fissures of his body. You never, ever were suppose to eat or drink something so readily from someone else without him—the appointed poison-tester—doing so first! What were you thinking?!

"Jamil, I just want to be with you. Can we go someplace to be alone?" you asked him pleadingly, evoking shock in both Kalim and himself. It appeared that he was the one you fell for, and you were being utterly stubborn over this. You even went as far as to swipe at Kalim when he tried to interfere and get you to go with him⋯ how troublesome. But the two of them decided it was best to follow your whims, both of them doting on you as usual.

Right now, you were so docile next to him; rubbing your cheek against his arm, selflessly conceding your affections and warmth to him as you nestled up close. It was everything Jamil had coveted—from since a long, long time ago.

Jamil was accustomed to looking after Kalim, and by extension, you, who constantly got whisked away in the aforementioned prince’s mania, and chaos was deeply integrated into his daily life. So, having you cuddling into him with a lovesick, dopey grin was a needed respite. All you were doing was showering him in your tenderness, a soft yet desperate aura emanating from your being.

“It’d be nice if you could be this obedient all the time. Heh, just kidding.”

Not once did Jamil ever have any intention of controlling you, even if he’d wished to do so. Receiving your love and praise bristled exaltation over his nerves in short, feverish bursts. Yet it was simultaneously being smothered as the thoughts of his master rolled over his thoughts.

Kalim was patently disappointed that you’d chosen to spend time with Jamil alone and not him as your self-appointed older brother. As a result, even now, Jamil was considering yours and Kalim’s feelings before his own. There’s no way the entirety of Jamil’s being wasn’t sweltering with the desire to sweep you up into his arms and kiss you—despite that, he’s not going to. He can’t.

Just as that familiar, ineradicable ache crossed his heart, Jamil felt you fluidly setting your legs astride his as you straddled him on the couch. You pressed your chest against his, the hum and vibration of your jittery lungs similar to a cat’s purr, and it shook Jamil’s body along with you.

Your arms twined his neck, fingernails scraping lightly at the nape of his neck. “What are you doing? Get off,” Jamil instructed you, hands seizing your waist and feeling how you innately scorched underneath his fingers. “⋯ You don’t want to? Listen, I wasn’t asking you to.”

Jamil watched as your lips twisted into a pout, clearly displeased with his refusal, and he felt your hands grasping at his vest; then his hoodie, anywhere you could. “Still into that habit of tugging on my clothes when you want something, huh?” he sighed, only to have his heart plummet into his stomach at the sensation of your hands dipping lower, past his navel. “⋯!! Where do you think you’re touching?!”

In a swift, hurried movement, Jamil gripped your frame and lifted you up before slamming you back down onto the couch to pin you there underneath him. Hovering above you with his chest heaving, cheeks burning with an accumulation of embarrassment and ire, he glared.

“You’ll regret this, you know,” Jamil began, stuttering breaths oozing his deteriorating restraint, “I’ve always wanted you. But as a member of the Viper Clan, I could never act this way towards someone the Asim Family considers precious. You understand, right?”

As your hand came up to cup his cheek, the final grains of sand descended to the bottom of the hourglass. “I shouldn’t worry about that, huh? Well, maybe you’re right. For now, let’s start with kisses⋯ if you’re good, I don’t mind giving you something more.” 

[rook hunt]

It was a known fact that Rook had a capricious heart; even he said so himself. He was always becoming enraptured by the boundless beauty of the world around him, leading him astray from monopolizing one certain thing. That was, until, he laid eyes on you. Everything retained their everlasting beauty, yet he found himself believing you were unparalleled. It was different for him, but it wasn't as pure of love as some might think it to be.

No, Rook only had pure, unadulterated love for the things around him. Not you.

Seeing something running away from him only makes him want to chase it, he was always telling you. And so, that's what he did. Stalking and following after you, memorizing every little detail there was to know about you. Rook was still insatiable, it was never, ever enough.

He knew the potion you drank was potent, judging from how receptive you were to him and the hearts fluttering off your lashes. Rook didn't mean to hide from you the way he did, he simply wanted to observe you at first; see the way you acted as you went for love. "Rook-san, where are you? I have something very important to tell you! I might die if I don't!" A laugh fell from his lips at your cuteness—until your foot slipped when you were going down the stairs⋯!

“You were so greedy for my attention, you wound up lightly spraining your ankle searching the campus for me, mon petit chou. That won’t do, you can’t run away like a proper prey now, can you?” Rook’s voice radiated dejection, yet you felt in your chest that it was modulated to sound that way. “Or perhaps, you were hoping to be completely trapped by me?”

Seated on the bed in the infirmary, Rook sat at your feet; delicately tracing his fingers over the lurid bruise blossoming as he held onto your sole and bandaged it up for you. There was a simper curved on his lips, as if he was calculating every step of this.

It was wrong of him, but your desperate and persistent efforts to find him only made him fall for you even deeper. You were absolutely breathtaking in love, how could he resist?

As he finishes tying your bandages up nice and tautly, Rook’s lips press careful yet alluring kisses over your foot—smirking against you as he espies the goosebumps rising to your heated skin. “Très bien! That expression is quite beautiful,” Rook chuckled jubilantly, “Won’t you let me see more?”

Rook could hear the tantalizing, yet subtle change in your breathing as he glimpsed up at you with a seductive gleam in his eyes. He’d be dishoring his code as a hunter if he didn’t gluttonize you⋯ or so he told himself, too charmed with your essence bared to him.

Beginning to leave kisses up along your leg, Rook brought his mouth along every inch of you until he’d climbed up onto the bed with you and had you instinctively bucking into him. He shook his head, clicking his tongue, “Non non, mon petit chou, you shouldn’t be moving around so much. Lay back, I’ll take care of you.”

You gulped as you did as you were told, flopping your head onto the pillow in sync with Rook gently lifting your legs over his waist. Your dizzy, yearning countenance was delicious—and he was going to drive you further into the throes of pleasure.

“Did you know? When you're tainted, you become a darker color, unable to return to pure white. There’s beauty in this sort of madness, too.”

[is-it-bussin-hannibal]

okay so,, I don't know if i have it in me to write a whole fic, but i needed to get this slightly dark Paul out of my head

Paul is married off to Feyd the second Feyd is of age (which avoids the attack on Arrakis yadayada as Feyd, alongside Paul, will inherent Arrakis, everybody wins). At first, obviously, the boys don't like each other very much, they're two teenagers, but they're also of noble birth, it's their duty, and Paul is bene gesserit, his whims have no place here. Feyd tends to ignore his husband most of the time, but he sleeps in the same bed, sometimes he'll stay in their rooms while Paul read or draws, somethings he really just stays there, quiet, sometimes he will engage in an activity of his own, they're practically parallel playing, sometimes he'll excise, and Paul will quietly join him. Paul knows he could seduce him, but there's just something about Feyd, how he avoids physical contact, how he'll move an inch away when approached, he's very mistrustful, and Paul respects that. It only infuriated him a "bit" when he found out Lady Fenring seduced his husband, and he knew why. Still, Feyd willingly spends time around him, and he doesn't do that to anyone else, and that means something.

Living in Geidi Prime proves to be a chore, it's harsh and cold and empty. Paul has observing as his form of distraction, right away he understands the power balance here, he understands why things happen the way they do, he sees the Baron for what he is, he also starts to understands Feyd the longer he stays with him. Paul never had anyone his age around, granted, but he also never had anyone match his wits, and he's delighted with how smart Feyd is. From what he learned with the bene gesserit, his husband was a animal, aggressive and not particularly intelligent, like his brother but stronger, he thought his marriage would be just taming a beast, like he was trained to do, dull and uncomfortable. But oh, what a delicious surprise!! Feyd managed to deceive the witches, made this mask of a monster, but of course, no one can get close enough to see through it. Paul does, like a bad dog, Feyd-Rautha bites when threatened. And soon Paul realizes, that everything here is a threat to Feyd, and has been since he can remember, the biggest threat? the Baron. He feels sorry for his husband, but he knows that would not please Feyd, and Feyd made the effort to be around him, because for some reason, he decided to stay with him for life and not just, kill him, and he's happy with that, so he does his best to show Feyd what a family is, because now they're family.

Paul sets for old fashioned childlike friend making instead of bene gesserit seduction. He talks to Feyd, even though Feyd does not respond, tell him things, sometimes random things, sometimes important things about himself, just to make conversation, to guide Feyd. The Na-Baron is very confused at first, but he listens, Paul urges him to speak too, he doesn't really knows what to say, but in time, he starts making comments about things here and there, like he's seen Paul do, which seems to please Paul. They create a routine. He annoys Feyd enough that the older has no option but let him do whatever he wants, and what he wants? to know Feyd, to be his friend. Feyd is not really familiar with the concept, he has his pets of course, but they're just one of the twisted mentat's failed experiments. The girls are beautiful but with the intelligence of a doberman. They were given to him as mock, but his pets suppressed expectations in his hands. Paul doesn't mind them at first, they scare him but it's nothing he can't deal with. He knows Feyd loves them, he usually doesn't show soft emotions, not here, never here, but Paul just knows, he can feel it. So he approaches the girls, he has heard all kinds of horrible things about the Na-Baron's harem of cannibals, but that's just what they are. They were born cannibals, they need human meat, Feyd is a gladiator, he keeps the girls fed, nothing else. For the world it looks sadistic and evil, adding to Feyd-Rautha's lore, from up close, it's really what Feyd can show of compassion. Gretel, Mischa and Niobe, they can't talk, but they're smart, Paul teaches them some sign language. Feyd is more than impressed, the girls usually don't let themselves be approached by strangers, but Paul won them over, especially Niobe, she's the one more taken by his little husband, follows him around and is eager to communicate, even started to sleep by his bed. Feyd asks to learn sign language too, of course, he also wants to communicate better with the girls. Paul can explode with happiness, something else to bond over!!! They're already have fighting, flying and Paul noticed the dedication Feyd has with his looks and decides to match him. It takes hard work, but Feyd starts to relax around Paul. He also understands Paul is his equal, just as intelligent, just as resilient, he can see Paul and Paul can see him. He's still hesitant, like a wild animal who was kept in a cage too long, but he's getting there and that's okay for Paul, he'll teach his husband, feelings are hard and Feyd never learned to deal with them besides bottling them up and attacking first, but now Paul is here, they are friends.

Enough spice in the food has enhanced his perception, he noted, and easily enough, he knows who he is, what he is, not just a Harkonnen by marriage but by blood. He can feel it now, in the back of his conscience, that thing that have always flown through his blood but he could never name it, hedonism. His sheltered, kinda repressed, life in Caladan makes him a little angry, all he has been denied and for what?. The Baron obviously takes a like for him, and he understands why, he also understands why Feyd seems uncomfortable, almost disgusted with it, and he too, feels a little thrown off by it, but he's bene gesserit, he uses it.

No reason to tiptoe aroud it, Paul calls him grandpa, which just makes the Baron happier with him. He stays at the Baron's side, sits with him in his floating device, talks about whatever the Baron wants, let's his thick hands linger, he gains advantages over the fat man. Soon enough, he's included in the important conversations. Even though the old man is a disgusting creature, Paul sees he's also very intelligent, and even learns a thing or two from the Baron. His grandfather is more than happy to dress him up in the most expensive fabrics, parade him around like a trophy, and Paul does the Baron's biding because yes, he's the most disgusting man in the galaxy but boy, he sure knows what he's doing, and he's got to make the most out of his situation. He knows his family would be outraged to see the Duke's son like this, in the Baron's lap, laughing, clinging to him, whispering in his ear a thing or two he noticed about the nobles around them. But Paul is not just the Duke's son, he's bene gesserit, he has the power here, he's a mentat, he's doing this for the advantages, he's Harkonnen, he's doing this because he can, because it's his birthright.

Paul noticed how Feyd would tense up in the Baron's presence, how he hated to be touched by anyone but held very still anytime it was necessary, he noticed Feyd would cover his body head to toe when he had the choice, only socially he would be showing skin, enchanting everyone around him like a good showman, and Paul knew he hated it, he knew he was doing what he was taught to do, to be a good boy and entertain. Maybe after a while he ever got a taste for that, not enough to enjoy having skin showing around the Baron, but enough to do it effortlessly.

After so much time around the Baron, Paul learned he did, in fact, have strong Harkonnen blood running through his veins. He enjoys power, he enjoys lavishness, he is very much a hedonist. The bene gesserit training served him well, but he saw through them now, he would not do their bidding, especially after learning what they did to Feyd, setting a trigger word that would render him paralyzed, "for safety" they said, it makes his blood boil. Taking away Feyd's agency, making him vulnerable, he knows those are Feyd's biggest fears, oh how he would snap those witches necks with his bare hands, maybe he will if they ever get too close to his husband. Let them think he tamed the beast, let them think of him as a beast, that keeps him safe, and Paul learned from Feyd, add fuel to the fire if it's working for you.

His training from his old masters also served him well, but now that his grandfather included him in real talks about the imperium he knows there's no such thing as morally better or whatnot, if anything, his father was not very smart, leading with his heart and training with repression. He loves his family dearly, but the world is so much bigger now, and out of everyone, is the Baron teaching him. His sees now, his mother is a Harkonnen like any other, hungry for power, he cannot see how love would blind such a powerful woman, that's why she defied the sisterhood, why she tried to make him a boy, the one. He wonders how different things would be if she had been raised by her father, maybe she would be like himself now.

Like the Baron, he thought of Feyd as "his", differently from the Baron, he would NEVER hurt him, and that's how he distance himself from that man, he can not stand the thought of Feyd being hurt, and he will do whatever it takes to protect his husband, his friend. He knows Feyd initially was angry at him for this behavior, withdrawing from him, he couldn't understand why Paul would let the Baron touch him, knowing what he knew, knowing what he did to Feyd, how could he be fine with that, was he that much like his grandfather? it was revolting to him. And at first, Feyd thought his husband was stealing his thunder, then, he thought his husband was giving himself for free. It took a while for Feyd to realized that with Paul gliding around the room in his pretty, expensive clothes the Baron chose for him, nobody, especially the Baron, minded him. He could wear the clothes he was comfortable with, no one cared, he didn't need to say a word to anyone, all eyes were on Paul, the sweet, pretty grandson of the Baron Harkonnen. He felt it, Paul was doing this for him, no one was going to touch him, no one was going to be all over him, he wasn't going to be forced to perform, the Baron would not hurt him, not under the little witch boy's spell. Paul was also safe from the people around them, Feyd was a plaything until he started to bite back, but no one would touch the Baron's arm candy, the Baron's only grandson. Feyd is as close to free as he could ever be, thanks to Paul, he almost can't keep it in his chest, the dukling likes him so much he is willingly at the Baron's side, knowing that his family will not be happy with that. No one had ever protected Feyd before, maybe his mother once, but he couldn't really remember. And like that, he trusts Paul, and maybe that's what love feels like. Paul knows what loves is, he was loved from his first breath, and when he sees it in the Na-Baron's eyes, directed at him, he feels complete.

In the early days of their marriage, when Feyd was very skittish around him, and would not touch him, Paul thought of many things, maybe the Na-Baron didn't find him attractive? or maybe he was repulsed by sex altogether, odd, considering what he learned about Geidi Prime and Harkonnen culture. Maybe he was impotent? no, the sisters would've told him that, they wouldn't jeopardize the way for an heir. That wouldn't do, they needed an heir to secure this union and Feyd unwillingness to touch him as unbecoming.

One day, during their training session, Paul was wearing a short blouse that would ride up with every move, he caught the older boy's eyes lingering on his frame, he said nothing, Feyd also said nothing. Then Paul noticed his struggle to move, the Na-Baron's pants had become tight, the duckling smiled to himself, so he was attracted to him after all, and he clearly could get it up, so what was the issue?. One day, Paul used the Voice on Feyd, they were wrestling, he thought it would be funny to get the upper hand like that, and a good way to let Feyd know of his abilities. He was wrong, Feyd moved so fast way from him, it was as if he used the Voice to tell him that and not "down". He looked terrified for a moment before he caught himself, still away from Paul as he got up. Paul felt so bad, he understood why Feyd was terrified, Feyd hated not having control over his own body, more than hate, he feared that. Paul explaind he only wanted Feyd to know he could do it, told him he would NEVER use the Voice on him again, apologized profoundly. Feyd acknowledged his explanation but was very surprised by the apology, he liked it, Paul could tell. He decided to show what a pinky promise was, and made a promise with Feyd. Feyd-Rautha was quite happy with that.

They had become more comfortable with each other over the weeks, they held hands and hug every once in a while. Paul would have vison nightmares sometimes, other times Feyd would have nightmares, after calming down they would just hug until they fell asleep again, Feyd was getting found of hugs. Paul even got a kiss! the only other time they kissed was at their wedding and Feyd did as fast as he could.

One day, while they were laying in bed, just enjoying the other's company, Feyd asked, out of nowhere, if he would use the Voice on someone else. Paul took a while to respond that yes, if he needed, he would, he saw something shine in Feyd's eyes, he couldn't tell-- "you're very powerful" Feyd said, not blinking, looking directly at him, breathing heavily, and oh, that's it, Feyd is not only attracted to him, he's also attracted to power. Paul then decided to show how much he appreciated his husband by giving him power over himself. Feyd, unlike him, was experienced, forced to perform, then acquired a taste for it, for taking back. Paul knew what he was taught as a bene gesserit and what his grandfather had shown him in filmbooks but nothing felt like giving in to Feyd, not having to be the one in control all the time, just letting go, he trusted Feyd, knew he would never hurt him, and Feyd trusted Paul to never force him to do anything. They were a united front now.

[chaneydoll]

I GOT YOU - AUSTIN BUTLER

Frat!Austin x reader

Warnings: Intoxication, driving under the influence, angst, fluff, unedited writing

Word count: 1,812

Summary: The alcohol got the best of you at your brother's party, and Austin decides it's time for you to go home.

The thump of bass vibrated through the floorboards, making your sneakers hum beneath your feet. The air reeked of spilled beer and something suspiciously like burnt popcorn. Your older brother, Tyler, had promised a "fun night," but "fun" for him usually involved questionable concoctions and questionable company.

You take another sip of your White Claw, letting out a sigh. This wasn't your scene, not by a long shot. But you wanted to get something out of tonight, so you started drinking. Scanning the room, you spotted Tyler, already three beers deep and engaged in a beer-pong tournament with his usual posse. A pang of loneliness hit you, followed by a wave of annoyance. Why had you agreed to this again?

Suddenly, a hand landed on your shoulder. You slowly turned, finding herself face-to-face with a guy whose smile could only be described as 'toothy'.

"Hey there," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of cologne that made you wrinkle your nose. "You lost?"

You felt yourself get anxious, a sudden loss for words. "No, uh, I was jus-" Before you could stammer a reply, a familiar figure materialized beside you, effectively blocking the unwelcome attention. "Ethan," He breathed, relief washing over your body. Austin, Tyler's best friend stood tall, his gaze fixed on the stranger with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "Everything alright?"

Your heart skipped a beat. Austin, Tyler's best friend and the object of your secret crush since freshman year, stood before you, looking like a Greek god in his white t-shirt and faded jeans.

Ethan, oblivious to the sudden tension, held out his hand to him. "Butler," he said with a friendly smile. "What's up, man?"

Austin's hand remained firmly in his pocket. "Just checking on my little sister," he said, his voice deceptively calm. "She doesn't do well in crowds." As assured as what he said made you feel better, you couldn't help your heart dropping at his label for you.

Ethan's smile faltered slightly. "Oh, I didn't realize." You could tell Ethan suddenly seemed intimidated by Austin as his gaze began to soften while he walked away. You watch Ethan frustratedly run his fingers through his hair before looking back at Austin who was leaning against the kitchen counter, his attention set on you.

"Y/n," he greeted, his voice low and husky over the music. "Didn't think you'd make it." He spoke, taking a swig of the beer presented in his hand. You look up at him with a soft smile, "Couldn't resist Tyler's puppy-dog eyes," you joked, trying to sound casual.

He chuckled, "I remember him mentioning you might come." he says. You bit your lip, "I make it when I feel like I need to," you take a long drink, "So here we are."

Austin couldn't help but smile at your drink of choice, watching as you swallowed. "How much have you had tonight?" He gestured to the can in your hand, eyebrows furrowed. You looked down too, in an attempt to recall what round you were on. You look back up at him, eyes hung low, letting out a small giggle. You truly didn't remember, but you knew you were drunk. The multi-colored led lights bled into each other, mirroring the muddled state of your own head as Austin softly grabbed the can out of your grasp, tossing it in the trash.

He turned back to you, his voice softer now. "Let's go get some air, yeah?" You scoffed once you realized he threw your drink away, and began to walk opposite of his direction to get another. Nevertheless, you were stopped by a firm grip on your arm. It was Austin, dragging you outside while you stumbled behind him, his speed much faster than yours.

As you two stepped on the porch, he turned to you, brows furrowed. "So, what was that about?" He questions, clearly still not over the brief encounter you had with Ethan. All you did was shrug your shoulders, "Maybe he didn't have anyone else to talk to and just wanted to be nice." Austin extended his arms out on the wooden railing, letting out a sarcastic laugh. "He wasn't gonna be too lonely for long had you k-" He was cut off by a loud whoop from inside the house shattering his sentence. Tyler emerged, his arm slinging around your shoulder.

"There you are, Y/n!" he shouted, slurring his words slightly. "Come on, let's get you a drink." Austin's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with something you couldn't decipher. Before you could react, Tyler pulled you back inside, leaving him standing alone on the porch, a storm brewing in his eyes.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, but it was quickly overshadowed by burning in your throat as you downed a shot of tequila.

Truth was, you were done for, adrift in a sea of alcohol. Neon strobed across the dance floor, painting your vision in dizzying bursts. Your laughter echoed, sharp and self-conscious, bouncing off the pulsating bass that hammered against your ribs like a frantic fist. You remained in a corner surrounding a mix of your brothers friends, except your feet had their own ideas. They seemed to be conducting their own drunken samba, threatening to launch you into the throng of dancing limbs. You reached a nearby table, making your way on top of it, each wobbly step shaking the legs.

Just as you teetered on the edge of social oblivion, a hand clasped your waist, steady and strong. You peeked down to see Austin, his usually playful smile replaced by a frown.

"Woah there, firecracker," he said, his voice laced with amusement but also a surprising warmth. "Gravity not your friend tonight?" His gaze held a flicker of understanding, a silent plea for you to come down. The urge to refuse was fought for as you attempted to escape his grasp.

"I'm fine!" You shout at him, pulling at his sleeve before he slung you over his shoulders. Leaving felt like escaping a burning building. The fresh air hit you like a slap, a loud whine escaping your lips as you squirmed in his hold. He fumbles with the keys in his pocket, unlocking his car. He sat you in the passenger seat before running over to the drivers side and getting in.

"Hey, I know this car," you mumble, fumbling with the plush dice wrapped around his rear-view mirror. Austin let out a chuckle, starting his car, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, I do." He stares at you for a brief moment before pulling out of the driveway and going back to your apartment.

"Where are we going?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm taking you home," he said simply. "The party was about over anyway." You frown, glaring daggers at him. "I wasn't ready to go!" You cry, dramatically throwing your head in your hands. Austin makes a left turn, "You've had way too much to drink, Y/n." He mumbles in reply. You refused to listen to him, your legs crossed away from him the whole ride home. Eventually, you were met with the building of your apartment as Austin pulled into the parking lot.

"Home sweet home," he says, taking the key out of ignition. He looks over at you to find you in the same position, attitude still present. "Come on, can't keep the bed waiting." he tells you gently pushing your shoulder before getting out. He walks over to your side and opens the door, carrying you up the rest of the way to your building.

Austin grabs your keys from the back pocket of your jeans before unlocking the door. He sits you down, making it hard for you to stand as the sleep began fight for your consiousness. Reaching your room, you flopped onto the mountain of pillows and blankets, letting out a dramatic sigh. "I'm a disaster," You groaned, burying your face in a plush teddy bear.

Austin chuckled, his voice warm and reassuring. "Disasters wear pajamas, not skirts and tank tops," he said, pulling a pair of fluffy pajamas from your drawer. "Here, let's get you changed."

You sat up, taking your top off as you flung it across the floor. Austin turns back around from your dresser, his breath hitching in his throat as he took in the sight in front of him. He found his eyes trailing down your stomach, all the way down to your legs.

Austin's stomach lurched as he stared, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He shut his eyes, unable to contain the excitement sprouting in his pants as he quickly re-adjusted himself.

Even like this, all drunk and flustered, Austin still thought you were beautiful. You never seemed to notice the way he looked at you apart from everyone else, or the way he treated you as if you guys were together. Most times, you took it as him being nice, out of respect for his best friend's little sister. You tried your best to keep your school-girl crush to yourself, in hopes it would go away. But it never did.

It was easy for him to tell you felt the same way pretty early on, just by the way you were around him. He loved how nervous you got every time you guys touched, as you always tried to avoid eye-contact to prevent the embarrassment. And he loved how oblivious you were to a lot of things, like the level of drunk you were right now. His thoughts were interrupted as you snatched the clothes from his grasp, slipping them on.

He watches you intently, moistening his lips while you laid down in your bed. Patting the empty space beside you, you signal him to get in. He quickly obliges before taking his shoes off and sliding onto the mattress. Austin grabs your blanket on the edge of the bed, burrowing you in the warmth of your sheets. You let out a soft moan in relief, causing his pants to tighten even more. You turn over to face him, your bloodshot eyes looking up at his.

"Thank you for bringing me home," You smile at him, scooting closer toward him. He closed his eyes with a smile, wrapping his arm around you. "of course." His words, simple and filled with warmth, washed over you like a wave, erasing some of the shame. Austin, the guy you'd always seen as Tyler's shadow, was offering you an unexpected kindness, a safe harbor in the storm of your own making.

As the night wore on, Austin stayed by your side. He didn't judge, didn't tease. He simply talked about anything and everything while you were drunkenly rambling, your voice a soothing balm to his anxiety. You had fallen asleep not too much longer, Austin soon following, lulled by the sound of your contented snores.