#also... you know what else has been on my mind? a huge crush i have.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

the f.f16 photo mode is everything to me actually

[eleganzadellarosa]

Melted

pairing: olderbrothersbestfriend!chan x needy fem! reader

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: MDNI (I'm sorry if this changes the way you see ice cream, pwp I guess, fast paced plot, unprotected sex (don’t 👀), big dick Chan (because what else would he be?), overstim, squirting, hair pulling, choking, creampie, Chan calls reader Baby, reader calls him Channie)

word count: will update word count later

A/N: Just because my mind has been on Chan A LOT lately. Also…this isn’t proofread 😬

Why would you like someone that ruffles your hair, tickles your sides and calls you “baby” as a nickname? Sounds childish right? Not to you when it comes to your huge crush on Chan. You know that’s just how he is with you and has been since you were younger, but you wish it meant something different to him.

Chan is best friends with your older brother, he’s basically been a part of your family for over 10 years. You’ve always liked Chan, but not in that way until your crush developed right before he moved. His family moved away for a while during his late teen years so you hadn’t seen him in quite some time. Then he suddenly came back and he was like a whole new person. His personality didn’t change, no, the way he looked did and you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off of him since.

He and your brother are 25 and you’re stuck being 23. It wasn’t a big enough gap to make anyone bat an eye, but you knew he always viewed you as his best friend’s little sister and you weren’t sure how to make that change. You watched as he pulled up in front of your house, picking up your brother like usual. They spent so much time together, you were almost past the point of jealousy and wanted to hate your brother for taking him away every time.

You stood in the open garage, watching him hop out the driver’s seat. He smiled and waved when he saw you and did a little jog onto the sidewalk and into the garage. Maybe things didn’t need to change and you needed to find someone else to crush on, but it was so hard when he would open his arms for you to hug him and would squeeze you tight until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Hey baby, missed you. How ya been?”

Baby. You would never get over that nickname. It gave you that warm fuzzy feeling but also gave you that second heartbeat.

“Hey Channie, you know same old same old. Where have you been all week?” You knew where he’d been but you’d do anything to have a longer conversation with him before your brother snatched him away.

“I went to go visit my family, they told me to tell you hi.” He smiled and you smiled back knowing how much his family loved you, which oddly enough made you like him more. “I got you somethin’, close your eyes.”

You obliged, closing your eyes waiting almost impatiently to see what he had for you. Not being able to see him in front of you but feeling his presence made a light blush fall on your cheeks. You felt his fingertips graze the skin on your hand and the sudden contact made you jump slightly. He carefully opened your hand and you felt the cold contrast of something against your palm.

“Open your eyes.”

You looked down to see a dainty anklet with small charms dangling from it. Your eyes lit up seeing each charm perfectly handpicked with things he knew you’d like. It was gorgeous and on closer inspection, it looked expensive. You didn’t care how much it cost, only worrying that he spent too much of his money on you, but loving that he got you a gift at all.

“Baby, do you like it?” He made dangerous eye contact waiting for you to reply. It didn’t help you gather your thoughts any quicker even though you had your answer already. He made your nervous system short circuit.

“Y-yeah Channie, I love it!” You smiled as much as you could to cover the way you swallowed thickly seeing him stand so close to you.

“Really? Oh gosh I’m glad, I thought I chose something you wouldn’t like.” He had to be lying. He could pick a leaf off a tree and you’d be jumping for joy. “Here lemme see, I’ll put it on for you.”

You gasped when he lifted you up to seat you on your dad’s workbench that sat at the back of the garage. The heat seeping in from outside was hot enough, but now you were sure you could break a thermometer. He kneeled down and wrapped the cold jewelry around your ankle. You were unconsciously holding your breath, scared of having any reaction because if you let go, you’d probably moan and you’d rather not make this awkward.

He looked up at you with your foot still in his hand, “It looks great baby, I like it.” God that comment had you slippery wet. He liked it on you? Now you’d never take it off. “Make sure you think of me every time you look at it.” He shot you a wink and your breath got caught in your throat preventing you from swallowing.

This conversation would be stored for fuel whenever you needed something to tip you over the edge at night. You almost said something equally seductive back, almost, when your brother came and took Chan away. You were used to it by now, never really having more than 10 minutes tops of alone time with him. It was frustrating, having to get most of your information from your brother who always reluctantly told you, asking “why do you wanna know anyways?”

You think Chan would tell you no hesitation if you actually had the chance to speak with him. But truth be told, you’d never be able to do such a thing with your brother around. He made it clear on multiple occasions that he didn’t approve of a relationship between you two if it ever came to be, but all three of you knew that would never be brought into existence.

You sat in the same spot on the tool bench, swinging your foot to see the charms sparkle in the small rays of sunshine. Chan said to think about him every time you looked at it, so you did. The thought of you on your knees in front of him, him slipping his thumb past your lips telling you to suck if you wanted to be rewarded. The ideas that ran freely were filthy and getting worse by the second. Your thighs rubbed together tightly as you felt yourself grow wetter with each passing thought.

The sun shined brightly through the small gaps between your blinds, easing you awake with its warmth. The weekends were the best because it was almost guaranteed that you’d get to have breakfast with Chan. It was an unspoken tradition and you marked it off in your mental calendar. You quickly washed your face before heading downstairs to the kitchen, only to see it completely empty besides the few duffle bags that sat beside the island.

“Where are you going?” You asked your brother who walked in at the perfect time before you could stump yourself with more unanswered questions.

“Didn’t mom tell you? I’m going to stay at a beach house with a few friends for the weekend.” He stuffed a few more things in his bag, talking with his back facing you.

“No…is Chan going too?” You asked carefully trying to make it seem like a normal question.

He rolled his eyes and leaned up against the marble island. “Next time you need to just start asking Chan these questions since you always wanna know everything about him. And no, he’s not coming.”

“Really?” A smile spread across your face but you quickly wiped it away when you saw your brother narrow his eyes.

“Don’t go bothering him while I’m away, he’s doesn’t wanna hang with you at all so just stay home!”

“You’re such an asshole, he never said that!”

“You don’t know what he said because you’re not his best friend! Just don’t bother him okay?” He sucked his teeth as he picked up his bags and walked out the door, kicking it closed with his foot.

He didn’t know what he was talking about. Chan wouldn’t say that, he would love to hang out with you. Right? You felt like a teenager crushing on a college boy that was far out of your league for multiple reasons but you swore you had a chance.

You sulkily walked upstairs back to your room and flopped on your bed. Being that your brother didn’t want you to bother Chan, it made you more curious as to what he could be doing right now. It sucks that you didn’t have his number or really any way to contact him. Well you did, you were just too scared to actually do it.

It was nothing but a 10 minute walk and 2 minute drive to get to his house but in the back of your mind, you were scared he actually wouldn’t want to see you. What would you say; what would be your reasoning for coming to see him?

“I have a crush on you and I want to be around you, please let me in?”

Like hell that would work. He’d probably slam the door in your face, call your brother and tell him how annoying and stupid his little-

There was a ring at your doorbell.

Your head snapped to your left, slightly shocked you had any visitors. It could easily be your neighbor since she always seemed to pop up randomly. “I got it!” You yelled out, jogging down the stairs. You looked out the peephole to see Chan standing there. Your heart started racing and you quickly looked over your appearance before opening the door.

“Channie?! What are you doing here?”

“Aww baby you aren’t happy to see me?” A cute little pout painted his face and you wanted to drag him in and kiss him all over.

“What? No, of course I am! My brother’s not here and I thought you knew…”

“Oh yeah I knew, I came to see you.”

He said it so nonchalantly as if it was normal to come see you. As if you both agreed to hang out today. Or as if you always hung out when your brother wasn’t around. He had to know what this was doing to you, there was no way he didn’t. You opened your mouth to say something but couldn’t find the strength to let the words come forward.

“I figured you’d be here all by yourself, so I thought I’d come pick you up.” He smiled brightly and there were those cute dimples. God you felt like you were gonna explode.

“I…umm…” you were stuttering and if he didn’t stop staring at you, you were going to be stuck like this.

He looked a bit sad and disappointed but waited to see what you would say. “It’s okay if you don’t want to Baby. I should’ve asked first, I’m so sorry.”

You quickly reached out to touch his arm and practically melted into a puddle, “No no Channie, I’m sorry, I just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out with me. I’d love to go to your house, especially since I’ve never seen this one.”

He smiled again, “Of course I would Baby, you’re my best friend! Now come on, hop in”

Oh how this was never something you thought would happen in a million years. You were Chan’s best friend? As much as you wanted this, there must have been some kind of mistake. Surely he didn’t actually think so.

He grabbed your hand and lead you to his jeep and opened your door for you. “Thank you Channie” barely left your lips before he reached inside and buckled your seatbelt, smiling at you before he closed your door. Your body was on fire; ignited from the soft and simple touches. You were down bad, there was no better way to put it. If he kept moving like this, you’d have to go home and deal with the problem between your legs.

His house was nice, nothing too big or small, just right for him. He had a great sense of decor and he kept his place sparkling clean. Scattered about on different pieces of furniture were photos of him, family and even younger pictures of the 3 of you.

“Baby, make yourself at home, you can sit anywhere you’d like.” He spoke to you from the little pass through window in the kitchen.

You nodded your head but decided to explore his living room some more. When you walked past the patio door, you noticed a reflection on the ground outside.

“Oh my gosh Channie, you have a pool?! Why didn’t my brother tell me?”

He walked over to you with a large red double popsicle and chuckled at the amused look on your face. “I’m gonna punch him when I see him, I told him to tell you because I know how much you love swimming. We can go out there if you want.”

He broke the popsicle in two and handed you a half. “I would love to…but I don’t have a bikini with me.”

“Just get in with what you have on.” He leaned against the side of his couch as he sucked on the cold treat.

You looked down at your outfit, a plain white tee and some daisy patterned shorts. “But I won’t have anything to change into. I can walk back home and get something.”

“Orrrrr, you can just wear some of my clothes until yours are dry.”

What was with him saying all this so nonchalantly? When have you ever worn his clothes? The smell must be absolutely amazing, he always smelled so good. If he was offering, you might as well just take it.

“Hmm” you bit your lip and smiled, “okay, but I don’t wanna get in by myself.”

He smiled as he finished off his half of the popsicle and chewed on the stick. He jolted off the side of the couch and pulled his shirt off. You almost choked on the leftover ice you had in your mouth. What the fuck was he thinking?

“Come on Baby, come swim with me.”

He opened the door and ran and jumped in without hesitation. After little to no consideration, you followed behind him, diving right in. The water was a perfect way to cool off in the hot summer sun. He swam over to you, hair drenched and sticking to his forehead. The droplets of water shined against his toned, muscular body. You wanted to lick him dry, no matter how long it took.

His right hand slid over your waist and around to your back, “you look so cute, I could kiss you right now.”

Cute? Kiss? Cute and kiss in the same sentence? Maybe you needed to pinch yourself to wake up from this completely unrealistic dream.

“M-me? I’m just plain and boring.” You mentally pat yourself on the back for not stuttering too much with how close he was and what he just said.

“You’ve never been either baby, no way that’s what you actually think.” His eyebrows raised in shock.

“Well yeah…there’s so many prettier girls than me. I’m just me, but they’re-“

It happened so fast that your mind didn’t process it. He bent down to press his lips to yours and hold you a bit tighter. Your arms were around his neck and you reciprocated the kiss faster than the fear set in. His tongue swiped over your lip and you happily allowed him to explore your mouth.

Somehow being drenched in the pool made it feel more sensual, nothing left to the imagination, bodies practically touching through the thin fabrics. You could feel how hard he was, pressing it right up against your thigh. You bravely touched him through his shorts, earning a small moan from him.

He ran a hand up the back of your thigh and roughly grabbed your ass. It wasn’t until you felt something press into your back that you realized he moved the both of you closer to the edge of the pool. He trailed the kisses over your jaw and to your neck. You were breathing heavily, making no effort to stop the sounds coming from you.

“I wonder how good you’d sound if I fucked you.”

“Channie please, oh fuck.”

Desperate was too innocent of a word to describe how badly you wanted him. You’d do whatever it took to make your dreams come true.

“Would you like that baby? Let me fuck you and make you feel good?”

At this point you were sure you stopped breathing. He looked so good with his wet hair, heavy lids, toned body pressed right against yours. Of course you’d like that.

“Yes Channie, I want it, I want you.”

He slipped your shirt over your head and left open mouthed kisses down your neck and across your chest. Just as he moved to get your nipple in his mouth, a loud ring came from inside the house; it was his phone.

“You should go get that Channie.”

He looked at you, lips parted and breathing heavily. “Fuck, okay I’ll be right back.”

He hopped out the pool and went inside while you tried to put all the pieces together. So Chan liked you? Or he simply just wanted a fuck buddy? Or maybe he just wanted to fuck you because he knows how much you like him and knew you’d be easy? The insecurity began to weigh down on you and now you just wanted to go home.

When he returned, he squatted down next to you, who was now slightly turned away from him with your arms wrapped around yourself in order to seek comfort.

“That was your brother, he said he’s coming home early because someone got food poisoning. So…he asked me to pick him up.” He reached out and touched your shoulder. “Baby, you okay?”

“Yeah Channie, you can just take me home.” You made sure to not let him see the tears brimming your eyes.

“You sure you’re-“

“Yes, I’d like to go home please.”

He watched you for a few seconds longer, definitely able to notice the shift in your mood, he just didn’t know what caused it. “Okay, let me at least get you a change of clothes.”

The ride back home was short and you got out before he could to open your door for you. He shouted something about seeing you later before driving off as you closed your front door behind you. You still didn’t have his number, so him hitting you up later wouldn’t be a thing, unless he was bold enough to ask your brother but you both knew that would open a can of worms you weren’t ready to try and close.

Now you were a bit nervous that he would tell your brother what happened because he wanted to know why you looked so sad. You’d just avoid him as much as you could and hopefully he would forget anything ever happened.

“As much as I don’t want you to, I need you to come with me and Chan so you can help me choose a gift for my girlfriend.” Your brother came into your room, not bothering to knock since your door was already opened slightly.

“I didn’t say you could come in!”

“Oh my god, yes or no?”

“You didn’t ask me anything dumbass and why don’t you already know what your girlfriend likes?”

“I do know but I want to know what’s the best out of the options I have and you’re a girl.”

“Umm…I guess?”

You were conflicted. You wanted to see Chan, you missed him even though it had only been two days since your encounter in the pool. But you also didn’t want to see him right now because you didn’t want to explain anything to him, yet if you said that your brother would for sure know something happened between you two.

“Okay well be ready in like 10 minutes, set a timer or something.”

Chan and your brother greeted each other like always and when he looked over at you, he looked as if he wanted to come hug you. “Hey baby, you coming with us today?”

Your brother rolled his eyes when you let a smile creep past your lips. You were weak for Chan, he knew exactly what to say to make you melt. Maybe you were thinking about it wrong, maybe he really did like you and he actually wanted to be with you. But having it happen so suddenly made you think perhaps you let your guard down too quickly.

You felt like such a third wheel around the two boys, laughing at their inside jokes and not worrying about you following behind them. Well Chan did, he would look back to make sure you were still there and smile at you when you made eye contact. It felt like hours even though but had only been 30 minutes of walking around the mall looking for the perfect gift.

“Girls like jewelry, so get her something she can always wear.” Your brother’s gaze followed yours down to your anklet. Before he could ask you where you got that, Chan spoke up.

“Yeah I told you that the other day man, if you really love her you should get her something that she can keep for a long time but also that you put effort into choosing.” He looked over at you when he said it, hoping you caught on to what he said.

You tried your hardest not to blush, your brother standing way too close for you to even let out a small squeal.

“Yeah that’s what I wanna get her but I’m not sure she’ll wear it, I never see her wearing jewelry.”

“Trust me bro, she’ll love it.” He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and nodded his head.

“I’m gonna go get some ice cream and then head back to the car you guys.” You said waving your hand as you walked away. Your brother nodded as he answered his phone.

“Is it okay if I come with you baby?” Chan ran to catch up with you before you got too far.

“Sure Channie, I’ll pay for you.”

“You’re so funny Baby, I’m paying for the both of us.” As you approached the stand, he turned around grimacing. “Aww baby they’re all out of rocky road.”

After all these years, he still remembers your favorite ice cream flavor. “It’s okay Channie, just get me whatever you get.”

He smiled softly and nodded and ordered two strawberry cheesecake cones. You walked back with him to his car to enjoy yet another frozen treat in his presence. Of course, he opened your door and let you hop in before he did the same.

“Damn it’s already melting…”

“I prefer ice cream when it melts a little. Like when it drips down my fingers. It just tastes better that way…well to me anyway.” You realized you were babbling, so you looked up at him but he was already looking at you.

“You wanna lick mine off my fingers?”

The question alone could have made you cum, but the way he looked at you; eyes slightly hooded, lips parted, that had you throbbing. You couldn’t even answer him. Actually your mind was blank so you didn’t have an answer or any response to what he just said. He saw it on your face though. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He’s wanted you for a long time and as many hints as he tried throwing your way, you never seemed to catch them.

It became too much for him, your brother always getting in his way of spending alone time with you. He didn’t care what your brother thought about it though. He wanted you and he wanted you bad. So when he eased his hand toward your mouth and you happily let him push a finger past your lips, he knew he didn’t have to try to make you understand anymore; he made that clear when you were in the pool the other day.

“Sorry it’s not your favorite flavor.” He said, removing his finger to replace it with a new one.

“It is now.” Your words were partially cut off by the intrusion of his fingers. You were soaked and your head felt fuzzy, you felt like you were going to die.

You never broke eye contact and he watched you intently. “You can’t look at me like that if you don’t want me to ruin you.”

“Maybe I want you to.” You licked and sucked on his fingers as seductively as you could muster.

He licked his ice cream then shifted more toward you so he could kiss you. The contrast of the cold dessert and the heat from his tongue made you whimper. He slowly let your warmth melt the ice cream and drip down onto your neck and chest. He happily chased the drops with his tongue making sure none of it went to waste.

“Oh god Channie, mmm~”

He caught sight of your brother making his way over to the car so he quickly halted his actions and returned to his seat. “He’s coming, act normal. Deep breaths.”

Well that was surely easier said than done. He just licked the majority of his ice cream off of you, leaving you slightly sticky in multiple places. This was torture, getting so close to what you want only to be cockblocked by your brother once again.

“Yo Chan, is it cool if I stay at your place tonight? My girlfriend might stop by too.”

“Yeah sure, I don’t mind.”

“Okay cool, we can just drop Y/N off.”

You quickly turned, an exaggerated pout on your face, ready to fight your case. “NO FAIR!”

“It’s fine if she stays, I don’t mind.” Chan looked at your brother through the rear view mirror.

“What?! No way, she’s literally just going to bother us the entire time!”

“Fuck you, no I won’t! You always get to hang with Chan by yourself, I can be around him too!”

“Hey! It’s alright, you can sleep in my bed and I can sleep on the couch. I promise it’s fine.”

Your brother rolled his eyes and you stuck your tongue out at him. Maybe you were childish, but you weren’t going to let your day end without at least having another make out session.

You thanked God your brother’s girlfriend came quite late and that she took all his attention off of you and Chan. You all enjoyed some snacks and had movie night. It was nearing almost 2am by the time the movie was over, so your brother took her to the guest room where he was staying for the night.

You stayed up with Chan to help him tidy up even though he insisted he didn’t want you to.

“Is it okay for me to wear another one of your shirts Channie? I didn’t pack anything.”

He looked up from the dishes he just finished, “you don’t have to ask Baby, of course you can.” He gave you a big dimpled smile but then it dropped. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Yeah of course, what’s up?”

“Why were you so sad the other day? You know…in the pool.”

You knew he would ask you eventually so you might as well just tell him now and get it over with. “I don’t know…I just…wasn’t sure how to feel and was hoping you weren’t only doing it to take advantage of me.”

He walked up to you and kissed your forehead. “Oh Baby, I would never do that to you. I love you and I can’t ever say it or do anything about it because your brother’s always around. I’m sorry if I came off so strong but don’t ever think I’d do anything to take advantage of you. I love you, yeah?”

He rubbed his thumb over your hand and tilted his head waiting for you to nod your head. It took a heavy weight off your shoulders to hear him express his true feelings and being that he said it so easily helped you understand how genuine he was being.

“My room is all yours Baby, it’s the last door at the end of the hall. You can wear whatever you want and there’s towels in the closet in the bathroom.”

“Thank you for letting me stay Channie.” You stood on your tip toes and kissed him on the cheek and quickly ran away, leaving him in the kitchen with red ears.

You felt refreshed after your shower and even more comfortable as you slipped into one of his shirts. Since you didn’t bring a change of clothes, his shirt was the only thing covering you and barely so. You hopped into his king sized bed and playfully rolled around, enjoying the big size.

You looked over at the digital clock on the nightstand, it had already been more than an hour since everyone went to bed. You weren’t sleepy though, so you pulled out your phone and scrolled aimlessly on your socials. A soft knock on the door turned your attention towards it.

“Come in.”

Chan walked through the door, smiling when he saw you so comfy in his bed. “I couldn’t sleep but I also didn’t try…and, I can’t let you leave before I kiss you again.”

“Well good because I was thinking the same thing.”

He fully shut the door and locked it before he removed his shirt and hopped in the bed with you, lips immediately catching yours. His hands came up to grope your breasts roughly, sucking and biting your bottom lip as he did so. He slid a hand under your shirt, breaking the kiss when he felt your bare skin.

“God Baby, you’re driving me crazy. Seeing you in nothing but my shirt is making me sooo hard.” You took his hand in yours and moved it over your pussy. “Fuck…so wet already.”

He moved down closer to the edge of the bed and kissed his way down from your stomach. He gave you butterflies in the best way possible. His lips danced across the skin on your inner thighs sending tingles up your spine.

“Channie…” you say breathlessly and he looks up at you as his mouth attaches to your sensitive bud.

With his head between your legs, messily eating your pussy, your eyes were squeezed shut. It took every bone in your body to not moan, knowing that if you did, you would be loud. He sensed it, so he stopped eating you out and crawled on top of you.

He used two fingers to slip into you while his thumb pressed down harshly on your clit. “Don’t hide them from me, I wanna hear them.”

“B-but my brother is here.”

“And I want to hear how good I make you feel. Don’t hold back Baby, lemme hear your pretty moans.” His fingers sped up their pace, not giving you any other option. You moaned as your back arched slightly. “That’s it Baby, good girl.”

It turned him on watching how his actions made you react but he needed more; needed to feel the way your pussy wrapped around him like it didn’t want to let him go. You reached out to pull on his shorts and finally free his achingly hard dick from its confines. He was BIG but what did you really expect, it was just really really intimidating. None of that mattered though, you just wanted him in you without any interruptions.

He hissed when he used your arousal to mix with his and coat his length. He gave it a few pumps before he eased the head past your entrance. “I’ll go slow okay baby?”

“Okay Channie just keep going, please don’t stop.”

He caught his lip between his teeth, feeling the lust course through his veins hearing you beg and feeling the tightness of your walls. He watched your face contort in pleasure.

He was barely half way in, stretching you open with ease. “T-too big Channie…” You eyes were rolling back and you were already slurring your words.

“You can take it, look you’re doing so well for me Baby” he touched his forehead to yours and grabbed you by the jaw and kissed you again, “you feel so good Baby, so so fucking good, such a good girl for me.”

When he bottomed out he leaned over you to catch his breath so he wouldn’t cum too quickly. Your head was spinning. His body pressed into yours and the way he spoke to you already had your toes curling. He pulled out to the tip, your pussy making a squelching noise, and he quickly thrust himself back in. Your back arched off the bed and you almost screamed.

As much as you wanted to keep your sounds at bay, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep the volume down to a minimum. He snapped his hips forward with desperation, grunts and moans falling from the both of you. His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing enough to make your head get fuzzy and awaken every nerve in your body. He pounded into you with no remorse, making this worth the long wait.

He suddenly pulled out, causing you to whine in response, and sat against the headboard. “Come ride me, wanna feel you in this position.”

You crawled over to him then hovered over his still hard, leaking dick. You sank down on him, taking small breaks so you wouldn’t faint from the pleasure. He bucked his hips up, making you drop down fully. He held you under your butt, spreading your pussy open to help you bounce on his dick easily.

The more you hopped up and down on him, the more you felt the sticky substances mix and connect the two of you. Your legs gave out when he started to thrust up into you every time you dropped down. He repositioned you so that you were on your knees, leaning forward into him. He grabbed a handful of your hair, your back arching more, as he hugged you and fucked you violently. The new angle made him abuse your sweet spot.

“Letting me fuck you with your brother just down the hall, I didn’t know you were such a slut Baby.”

“Mmm ah! Only for you Channie!”

He held you tighter when he felt your pussy clench around him. This is exactly what he wanted, what he dreamed of. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer himself, so he quickly flipped you onto your back again. One hand on the back of one of your knees and the other rubbing harsh circles on your clit.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck Channie I’m gonna cum!”

“You gonna cum? Yeah? Cum with me, make a mess all over my dick.”

He thrust deeper into you and bent down to suck on one of your nipples. A few more loud moans and circles on your clit and your pussy fluttered as you reached your orgasm. He didn’t stop and kept up his quick pace until you squirted all over him and the sheets below.

“Fuuuuuck” his hips stuttered and he pushed himself deep as he painted your walls white. He pulled out quickly, the rest of his cum spilling into his hands and seeping through his fingers.

When you looked down, you couldn’t help but grab his hands to put his fingers in your mouth. Funny enough, the cum looks just like the way you love your ice cream.

“Channie, I think you’re my favorite flavor.”

[guacamoleroll]

ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇʀᴄɪꜰᴜʟ, ɪ’ᴍ ᴀʟʟ ʙᴜᴛ ᴡᴀꜱʜᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴅᴇ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ · ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ ᴅᴏꜱᴛᴏᴇᴠꜱᴋʏ

content. f!reader. discussions of existentialism, small themes of bodily harm, minor suggestive themes, protectiveness, pre-relationship, jealousy, fyodor is bad at feelings. nikolai has a crush on the reader. huge manga spoilers (bsd 114.5). 4k+ words.

author's note. guess who's back .ᐟ can you believe it's been almost two months since i've written a oneshot? crazy. i have multiple updates, but i'll be quick. am i working on my 1k+ event drabbles? yes! am i making a discord server? also yes (but only open to mutuals for the moment). am i working on my fyodor-fic? yes, yes, yes!

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

˚.⁺⊹ ꒱ 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰. what happens when an immortal man is met with unwavering, unconditional human compassion and doesn't know what to do.

OR fyodor has never been treated as a human until he met her.

Fyodor rarely lingered on thoughts of the past. He never permitted himself to bide beyond the threshold of a mere glimpse, to observe under the guise of such mortal qualities as attachment and resentment. In truth, he did not remember his first death, the incident only an imperceivable splinter in the mind he had perfected. But the pain, a bittersweet edge as the mind scattered and the body ceased to function—he would be a fool to forget it. Death was not as merciful as the poets described. They comforted themselves with ideas of fulfillment and eternal rest, but they would not know. Poetry is written by the living, and the dead do not remember.

The sensation of foreign flesh encasing his metamorphizing body like a malleable cocoon became ritual. His complex existence became an easier pill to swallow with each death, and with it, his consternation towards the mangled reflection staring emptily back at him drifted away. Crumbled with stabs, pinned with nails, hung with ropes—humanity relished the thrill of the kill.

Sinful and foolish. Those painful betrayals of yesteryear evolved into the occasional reminder, lost of sentiment as he released his bond with mortal toils like companionship and love. He had taken his life, and subsequently his death, into his own hands. It made each treachery predictable and left his stilled heart impenetrable.

His most human aspect lay in his most monstrous one—his ability. Abilities were a two-edged sword, both a burden and a blessing. He was no different. Forced to remain outside the binds of mortality, as his existence remained a constant reminder of the cycle of life and death. Within and without in every sense of the phrase. A paradox.

He could not deny the isolation, but he would bear it for the sake of a sinless world. His brushes with enemies and allies alike became his only source of company. Yokohama had been his favorite; he craved each new day, testing their limits as his mortal mind yearned to find someone like him, someone on the brink of true existence—but he did not find it in his battles, nor did he expect to.

No matter the desperation of his centuries-long searches, he knew he would not find his match—they likely did not exist or would not for centuries to come. He observed the lives of hundreds over the years, yet, through generations, they did not stray from routine. No amount of transformation in the world could shake innate human composition, selfish and starved from birth. From dust they were formed, and like all before them, to dust they became. The monotony dullened his spirit—some said he believed himself to be God, but who wouldn't think of themself better if they were in his shoes? But he allowed the criticism, for he could not expect a mortal soul to understand immortality.

But he found a fissure in his journey.

Your first encounter had not been one of coincidence—the seeds had been intricately planted for months—and you were identical to everyone else, down on your luck with nowhere to turn. A talented individual primed for the picking, with no choice but to take the hand of a demon, who soothed your worries with sweet lies and a benevolent smile. Each of his subordinates had their own aspirations, easy to interweave into his own intricate plans, with them none the wiser. It was simple.

You were supposed to be that simple. 

No one knew his true ability, whether he considered them an ally or an enemy. It made the truth pliable to his words and actions, leading others down one assumption or another without shining light on the truth. And he had drafted his subsequent death without a hitch, shot by a rash officer in the midst of a violent standoff, which would allow access to documents the man had been in the middle of delivering. But no draft of his death predicted a witness.

Your eyes were wide, frozen as your mind frazzled, but he did not think much of your initial reaction. It was not the first time he had an audience, but he loathed to end the show so soon—a performance without an encore was lackluster, but he couldn't spoil the surprise for the rest of the world. However, before he reached for the holstered gun on his belt, you scrambled towards him. It wouldn't have taken but a second to shoot you, but the contorted expression on your face, the tilt of your brow, and the contemplative purse of your lips had him pause. You had halted before him, your hands hovering over his shoulders, scanning his body.

"Are you okay?"

Those three measly words, such a straightforward question, drew out an unfathomable amount of irritation from the depths of his soul. Was it possible for a person to be so naïve? Anyone who had witnessed his ability had at least the insight to cower or run and be terrified for their life. It had always happened—people were predictable. His eyes bore into your own with more scrutiny than you had ever possibly received, but as if dissecting his most prevalent thoughts, you adjusted the wrinkled collar of his new uniform and spoke with a troubled frown.

"He killed you. You killed him. An eye-for-an-eye. A crime served with its equal punishment." Your eyes scanned over his clothes before lingering on his features, tracing across them with such, dare he think, care. As if ensuring this was the same man you had made a deal with many weeks before. 

When was the last time you had spoken directly to him—he realizes never. He was unfamiliar with your hushed tone, one that was scolding yet tepid. Others shook his hand in conjunction with cheap words and boisterous gestures as if to intimidate a predator, but you had mustered the courage to do one thing they couldn't. You looked him in the eye.

"Our world rarely follows that equilibrium," you said in the silence, inching from him to allow space. "I find it refreshing."

He raised a brow, words leaving him. "...You have quite a fascinating mind, Ms. (Surname)."

Your smile made the warmth return to his fingertips. "I would hope so. Wouldn't want to bore you."

For the following weeks, he found himself enveloped in ideas of coincidence. It had been eons since he left a variable to pure chance, though he supposed his modified routine had not allowed fate to prosper—but it wasn't like he was constructing moments to seek your presence on purpose. To have one measly interaction, an opening to prod at the folds of your delicate mind. No, of course not.

In fact, a trace of your familiar hairstyle or the flutter of your narrow array of outfits imbued with him the impulse to squash you like an insect, to erase your existence from the world's canvas and return to his monotony. You wouldn't see his approach, or perhaps you would, but you wouldn't stop him. Instead, you'd look upon him again with those same eyes, all-knowing yet completely clueless—but it was the thought of that expression that quieted those thoughts, a breeched sensation of carnal impulses gripping his heart like a vice. However, he remained curious, and you remained fascinating.

You met each interaction with hospitality like an ever-burning hearth that sparked a foreign warmth upon his skin, but not out of dread or devotion—those were the extremes in his subordinates, and no one strayed from them. They either bowed or cowered at his feet, but you did not falter to your knees, at least not in the way he expected.

You remained at a respectable distance, especially in comparison to your almost intimate touch prior. Still, it was not out of wariness at his ability's capabilities but rather out of knowledge of your own expendability. You understood your role as a subordinate but had no issue meeting his gaze, speaking level to him whenever permitted, yet respecting his authority in observation. 

His first judgment of your character, a naive and thoughtless woman, had been unfounded. You spoke with an intellect not found in many underneath him but did not utilize it as a weapon against others. Your awareness of the dangerous circumstances of your agreement seemed to contradict your actions, with no will to take out frustration towards your dealer. You seemed to, in fact, respect his artifice for its purpose and reap the perks of your deal rather than focus on the consequences—unlike most, you knew you weren't an exception to repercussions and accepted them as they were.

Your deal had not been one of much thought—he barely remembered it himself. You would work under him for an undecided amount of time and, in turn, receive shelter from the crimes of the outside world. It allowed for a menagerie of loopholes and interpretations, but it was of mutual understanding that he would not prevent your demise at the hands of enemy fire. Instead, you would only be allowed to live for as long as you were useful. Despite that knowledge, you met each moment with gratitude, relieved without the burden of death on your shoulders.

But your demise, supposedly so near, seemed to dwindle into the distance. He found alternate methods, better ones, to fulfill missions, other paths to follow, and subordinates to sacrifice in the name of salvation. Before long, you had worked for him for an entire year.

It was a week before your anniversary when you dared to surpass the threshold of his office's doorway, if you could call it that, and leaned against the frame to observe from behind, quiet as a mouse. He was surprised you hadn't been in here sooner.

"Do you need something?" he mused, a lilt of strange enjoyment in his tone. He didn't bother to pause in his motions, the strokes of his fingers against the keyboard only intensifying with every passing moment. He had been stripped of his normal coat, and ushanka sat on the side, which allowed for an almost softer appearance.

"I wanted to ask you a question."

He caught the unmistakable reluctance in your tone, a quiver in your voice, and he sighed. It was not the first time someone reconsidered their deal—it was quite common. He would appease their worries with those same sweet lies from before, before twisting them into a scheme so they would no longer become a problem. There was no use keeping around a subordinate who was bound to waver—but for the endless intrigue you provided, he would be merciful in his answer. Truthful, even. 

"I'm afraid there's no budging on your deal, Ms. (Surname)." The air of the office had staled, and he was sure you had stiffened from horror, primed to turn tail and scutter to your room to wallow in self-pity and despair.

"Uh, I actually just wanted to know if you had any book recommendations."

He paused in his typing, staring down at his hands. "Book recommendations."

"Forgive me," you muttered, tone loosened of its typical confidence as it brimmed with embarrassment. "It's just…you don't hire the most well-read company, and I'd assumed you'd have a more expansive catalog than any of us would."

It was quiet for an instant until an almost unheard chuckle relinquished from his tightened lips after the comprehension of such a unique request. You had subverted his expectation once more, such a strange little thing, and he twisted around to devour the view of your expression, which remained sheepish in the aftermath of your meek inquiry, softened moreso as the luminescent light of screens wavered to draw decadent lines across your features. 

"I'm certain I have something you'd enjoy."

You had not expected him to rise from his chair, standing like a deer in headlights as he approached the doorway. Only an amused lift of his brow and a smirk led you to realize that you blocked his path, and you scampered to the side. He led you through a narrowed path, one that turned unrecognizable after only a minute. The entire hall was dedicated to rooms you had never seen, isolated from everything else. 

His hand settled against a rusted knob, the metal door groaning with a boisterous shriek that undoubtedly led to your doom—that was until you stepped inside, mouth gaping in awe at the treasure of reading material. It was enormous, at least with the finite amount of space. His lips twisted into something uncharacteristically fond as your eyes lingered from book to book, practically sparkling at the array of texts, some of which only he could provide.

He selected a couple of volumes from varied genres, and you were about to thank him, but the following words that came from his mouth surprised you both. "Feel free to come here whenever you see fit." The books he handed over were old but well-cherished if the creased spines were of any evidence. "I'm curious to hear your thoughts."

Most wouldn't have dared to make their presence known after a chance interaction with him, but he knew it would be foolish to assume that you were like most or even to predict your next move. Even though he would never admit it, he was anticipating your presence in his office, and you arrived like a saving grace, primed with thoughts and annotations.

"He may be extreme, but he embodies the pinnacle of the human condition," you started, locked in on the main protagonist. "He's a paradox, morally virtuous yet rotten."

He held the returned book in his hand, refusing to acknowledge the subtle thump of his heart as his touch brushed over the impressions in the leather cover made by your fingers. Those imprints seemed to ground him, and he only allowed himself to embrace the sensation rather than consider why he felt so calm. 

"I see you enjoyed the story."

"I wouldn't put it like that," you argued, and he found himself only further encompassed in your discourse. "Enjoyment is easy to come by, but for a book to fulfill its purpose, it's supposed to make you think beyond its pages."

He leaned forward on his hand, humming as he yearned for more, homing in on every word and notation, for a chance to catch another delicious conviction spurned from your lips, hypnotized as you unpacked layers of moral conflict and human turmoil with ease. Your deconstruction was breathtaking, especially once you adjusted to your space, circling around his office and inching closer and closer. But then, you stopped.

"Hm."

He almost melted at the glimpse of that familiar expression—those furrowed brows and pursed lips. In further analysis, you resembled a bunny more than a human, and he almost expected a twitch in the tip of your nose as you became lost in thought. But the next look you struck him with, to his utter disdain, made him cave on instinct, like a predator about to sink his teeth in.

"A thought?"

You shook your head, clearing the air. "I forgot it as quick as it came."

But, like the sly prey you were, you slipped out of his queries with wit and once more avoided satisfying his curiosity, leaving him stranded in a position with no illusive way to question you for more. If it were anyone else, truly, he would have no desire for answers—they would be evident before they opened their mouths. Yet, every time he felt close to unraveling your secrets, you shrunk back. Almost as if you were teasing him. 

Two could play at that.

Months passed, and your discussions became daily occurrences, the topic shifting from philosophical debates to the beautiful world outside. Your presence was like sweet manna to the starved, and he found himself pacified but not fulfilled. But he did not consider one aspect of the alteration of his routine—that it would place a target on your back—not by his enemies but by other subordinates. 

A few of them had cornered you on a mission, planning to report back to him that you had died in the enemy crossfire—foolish that they didn't realize every death was always explicitly planned. Their insubordination would be met with fatal consequences, and while he wished in his heart to torment them for their witlessness, he knew that they would only cause further issues if they were allowed to remain alive. 

Luck had accompanied you on your errands, a watchful, frosted-haired jester performing a fantastical rescue in your final moments. It was not without injuries, as you lay in a bed with several sprains and bruises, but your rest was accompanied by the same man who had saved you, for curiosity was one of his main traits. He had been curious about you for a while, much like everyone else, and stated to Fyodor that he could not help but personally prod at his newfound "tether," whatever that meant.

But Fyodor knew, from the moment you exchanged your first few words, that Nikolai would become enamored with your inquisitiveness and warmth. Your approach to thought had been spell-binding to anyone who would listen, not only himself. You had an analytical approach similar to his, but it did not hold the same intent or technique. It sung with empathy, your personal philosophies shining through while allowing others to shape your opinions into a far more informed one. You reveled in a change—a most inhuman and most alluring feature. 

No one found more joy in that feature than Nikolai himself, who deemed you a dearest companion he must have lost and forgotten in the past—because where had you possibly been his entire life? His jokes made you laugh without restraint, but you didn't look at him as if he were a fool. 

"That pitiful clown didn't stand a chance," Fyodor noted to himself, though not without resentment towards the strain in his chest as Nikolai braced a hand on your shoulder. 

But the moment you leant your ear to the man and listened with an open mind to his ideals and demonstrated a drop of compassion towards his need to be free, Fyodor could recognize the familiar thoughts racing in Nikolai's mind. The same shock of finding someone who understood him and his purpose without repulsing his approach and the same impulse to sever the connection it created.

He knew it all too well. And he hated it, despised that he knew the sensation intimately, such a mortal affliction that it was reflected in another. He knew these emotions, at least some of them, but he did not think of them until another soul dared to encroach upon them. Upon you. 

Oh, how he despised you. 

He did not fathom why Nikolai had not done away with you—at least, he refused to. His stomach emptied with an insatiable hunger as the jester rushed away in a turn of his overcoat, with Fyodor not able to disregard the one visible eye of the man that looked upon him with an understanding far too founded.

He entered the room, your room, with an unease unlike him. You glanced from your reading material, another book from his collection, your expression of contentment shifting from content, to confusion, to land on concern, thinly veiled by a polite nod and 'hello.' He had never checked on any of his subordinates before and was almost willed to leave as quickly as he came.

"The antagonist is certainly intriguing, wouldn't you say?"

But you did not acknowledge his behavior. He never thought of himself witless enough to be in a position in which he could be called out for making such instinctual, carnal decisions—only for the subject of those to dismiss his intentions entirely. To not take advantage of his obvious vulnerabilities. You must have noticed it, but he realized it was never fear nor respect that made you avoid questioning him. 

He had never noted it prior, but you did not back out of conversations because you displayed discomfort. You were rather easy to read, and you knew that, but it had seemed you were concealing some further. It was not a part of yourself that you had hidden, but instead, you had allowed him to hide his own susceptibilities under the guise of them being yours, not prodding him from your own observations out of respect for his boundaries. He was not an open book to many, but he had become another novel to you. Another character to dissect. But you didn't.

He left with more questions than any answers he had ever received, having found the answer to his first question, but only at a cost that left him to spiral in his own contemplations. What would cause you to be so considerate? He was left distracted by your presence more than ever before, even when you were not in the room. You were a nuisance, yet so refreshing. A paradox, as you would've cleverly pointed out—and he loathed that he had become so intimately familiar with you that he knew that.

He ceased to note your mannerisms as an alley to exploit you, but it seemed he hadn't in months. Instead, he had found them a constance he looked forward to. The soul that he had been seeking—was it indeed you?

And to his immortal horror and human content, he knew that your roles had been reversed. That if you had approached with a blade and asked him for his heart, he would carve it out himself without another thought. It would only take a smile and the brush of your hand, and he would be your puppet.

It had been another month, and you were permitted to walk the harbor docks without accompaniment; not that many were allowed to accompany you in the first place. You were satisfied with watching the water from a distance, stilled by the winter wind that whipped around with a bite. In deep thought, as you considered the past few months, almost two years of the same routine, and you smiled. Life had not been monotonous since becoming a member of the Rats, and your strange companionship with your boss left you relishing each new interaction. There was a bittersweetness to that man, and it had not taken much to reach it—it wasn't like you had done that on purpose. 

But there was no need to ponder over that—it was cold. Your clothes were far too thin, but it wasn't like you were paid a normal salary like most people. You stuck with the clothes you had been able to take, always either too thin or too thick before the seasons, but you would make do like you always did.

That was until you felt the pressure of heavy fabric swallow you whole. You didn't even think to look up, too overwhelmed by the scent of old ink and the warmth of roughened fabric, marred with imperfections that could only be seen close up, and you brushed your fingers over them and simply relished in the sensation that the impressions grounded you. The puffed collar tickled your neck, and you couldn't restrain your laughter as you tried to wipe the water away from your eyes. But it was warm, so warm despite its exterior, and that was all that mattered to you.

You finally looked up.

"Fyodor?" you whispered, your voice almost lost in the wind.

He knew the questions in your gaze and the familiar contemplation as you debated whether to say anything more. You knew, in the depths of your kindred soul, that he would not answer your questions, nor did he have the answers himself, despite his longevity. Some things were best left unsaid. He was determined to uncover everything about you and this illness, an affliction that you had marred him with, to quell the rapid beat of his heart, a heart that finally belonged to him again.

"It's cold," he replied, sat beside you.

Neither of you looked at each other as you gazed out into the harbor, but for the first time, neither of you were bothered by the cold anymore.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @aureatchi @betweensinners @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @crayonssz @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @number1morihater @fyorina

© 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 2024 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[houpss]

SKZ have a crush on you

you can come up with the ending yourself...whether the reader will be with the member or not is up to you!

light angst, a little fluff, uncertain relationship

Bang Chan

oh...this man talks about his feelings openly and without fear.

He literally phrases: "I'll steal and fuck your girlfriend while you're not looking."

He has a huge amount of female and male attention, but...

But it doesn't work out that way with you...

You were out of his reach.

You were too beautiful, too sweet, too good...he wasn't like that.

Chris is the one who will call you his muse and write romantic songs for you, some of which have been published.

His love is manifested in acts of care, he is always there, he is more tactile with you than with others.

He will give you whatever you want, just ask.

Chan has 8 members so he is like a dad...he protects and cares for them

And he also wants to take care of you.

He wants to love you openly.

But you didn’t notice his feelings.

Although...you loved Chris. Literally loved to the moon and back.

For some reason, it seemed to you that Chris only saw you as a friend or family member, just like his Members.

Yeah...close friends....

He will say exactly the same phrase to you:

"You came..."–"You called"

It seems you are both fools.

Maybe he's too soft with you? Maybe he needs to leave?

He won't be able to give up on you.

I will kill myself, I will destroy my soul, but I will be with you.

But i'll wait for you

I love you to the moon and back

기다려 여기 me and max

서운해해도 don't be mad

너한텐 할 수 없는 game (Bloo-But i'll wait for you)

Lee Know

How could Minho let this happen?

Lee Minho was head over heels in love with you.

No one has seen his loving eyes, no one has ever felt his gentle touch.

How did he allow himself to fall in love with you?

This is a completely crazy idea, he didn’t love to love.

But you turn his world upside down, he is literally lost in you.

You clearly feel like Minho hates you.

Minho is like cold winter, he is like snowy weather, he looks like frosty weather.

And you were in summer, you're complete opposites.

But even after the coldest winter, love comes.

He calls you the most beautiful adjectives, it’s like he’s trying to silently scream about his feelings.

He speaks directly and harshly, he loves the truth straight forward.

"And you will be obsessed with me, I will be everywhere: I will be in your favorite songs, I will be between the lines of books, I will be in every passerby... I am your addiction"

Lee Minho couldn't fall in love, but he wanted to love.

All the pretty stars shine for you, my love

Am I the girl that you dream of? (Lana Del Rey–Pretty when you cry)

Seo Changbin

He loved and hated you at the same time.

Oh.. Seo Changbin can hate?

Yes, he did it with you. He loved you so much that he hated you for it.

You were everywhere, you were ingrained in his existence and mind.

He was very sweet and friendly and loved people.

It didn’t work out that way with you, it was as if he deliberately didn’t want to have much contact with you.

He loved you silently, probably without asking for anything in return.

Before he even notices, he begins to pay attention to you... be it small acts of attention or dialogues with you.

"You can take Changbin out of first love, but not first love out of Changbin."

Again, it was like you were different, you weren’t like anyone else. He noticed you immediately when he met you.

He seems upset that you will never be his.

Oh...the boy is gloomy. The boy looks like a thunderstorm.

Conquer your lonely heart, get used to the emptiness.

When you ran your fingers over your lips

I bought it from glossy magazines

Everything you asked for and even what you didn’t ask for

How can you be so terribly beautiful? (Rocky-WITCH)

Hwang Hyunjin

Oh yes, you and Hyunjin have been friends since childhood.

It even got to the point that you are idols in the same agency. No wonder Hyunjin adores you, he's obsessed.

Fans loved your interactions, they were sure there was something between you and Hyunjin.

Hyunjin wants to get into your soul, he wants to take your heart into his cold hands.

You were the forbidden fruit, and forbidden fruit is always sweet.

It’s as if you’re chasing him, you’re everywhere, he feels you everywhere.

But you're just his friend, his sweet best friend.

It was normal for you to peck Hyunjin on the lips, naturally in private or during greetings (while no one was looking). Hyunjin feels addicted.

You are worse than drugs, you cause an addictive effect. You are his absolute delight.

The boy will paint your portraits, he will exalt you like a goddess.

So why do you only see him as a friend?

Hwang Hyunjin doesn't deserve to be your friend, he wants to be your boyfriend.

The boy loves to hurt himself, he loves hardcore. He loves pain and whines a lot.

He just replaces you with pain, it helps.

Touch me, yeah

I want you to touch me there

Make me feel like I am breathing

Feel like I am human (The neighbourhood–A little death)

Han Jisung

You never paid attention to Jisung.

But Jisung was so loud and cheerful that he started to annoy you.

Jisung did this on purpose, he liked you.

The boy will notice you immediately, you immediately fell into his soul. So cold and inaccessible.

He wants to melt the ice on your heart, he wants to become your sun.

Every day he fell more in love with you, the cold intensifying his desire.

“Your love is addictive” – your words

He is very kind and cheerful with you, he is so easy to talk to.

He won't give up to get you. Even when you send him the rudest obscenities

I'm your boy.

He will sing to you, and you will ask him to shut up. You secretly love it, his voice is so beautiful.

But you should hate Han Jisung because it's the right thing to do.

You would get closer to him, but...

No.

"Is it fashionable to jerk off to him?"

"hit of the season"

Lee Felix

It was impossible not to fall in love with Felix.

everyone loves Felix!

And he loves you.

This sunny boy literally drowned in his love for you, it completely absorbed him and did not allow other feelings to pass through.

But you don't seem to notice him.

Felix dreamed about you, you are in his thoughts. The first thought in the morning, a relieving thought when he is busy and the last thought before going to bed.

He's trying to get as close to you as possible

He will become your best friend.

Felix is too good, he is an angel in a human body.

The world is not worthy of Felix, so why did he love you?

Every day, like a painful melody, this unrequited love sounded in his heart. He experienced all emotions - from boundless happiness to deep sadness - alone

He couldn't imagine life without you

If you leave, there will be no point in living.

He writes you poems, he gives you the most expensive gifts, he just wants you to love him. Love him at least a little.

Perhaps his efforts will remain irretrievably lost in time. But one thing is certain: he will continue to love you, deeply and truly, even if he never hears your answer.

Come on scratch my back

So as to reach the heart

Both you and I want this (ЩЕНКИ–dirt)

Kim Seungmin

It's like he's afraid to get close to you.

On the contrary, he moves away. Every day it gets stronger, he loves you so much and doesn’t want to see you so much.

Seungmin took this step not because of a lack of love; in fact, on the contrary, he was struck by this love.

In every breath you took, every word you said, he found the perfect embodiment of his dreams. You were his sun, his muse, his everything.

But he knew he couldn't be with you. He saw how disappointed you were in your past love, how your trust and heart were damaged. He couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake. He couldn't risk their relationship knowing that the end could only be pain and disappointment.

It hurts so much to give up on someone you love.

He deserved happiness, he deserved love, but he couldn't have it with you.

He didn't want to ruin your life or be the source of your pain.

He will go away and it will be easier for everyone.

He will disappear from your life as suddenly as he appeared.

He will never forget you, he will never stop loving you. But he knows that sometimes the best decision is to let go of the one you love. This is exactly what he did because to him, your happiness was much more important than his own.

He looks at the dawn and remembers you.

Your nose is covered in cocaine, you can barely stand

I am the secret that you cannot hide

I think about you too much (Pharaoh-unplugged 2)

Yang Jeongin

You are his first love.

He sees a future with you, he sees stars in you.

It was the first time he felt such strong feelings for someone.

Oh, he is just learning about love, but it can hurt or beat sometimes. Love can completely break the psyche.

But he doesn't care as long as you exist.

Jeongin will turn to the Hyuns for advice. how to get your attention and make you fall in love.

He will be so romantic...he will be so gentle with you.

He is afraid to do something wrong so as not to scare you away

He will be a gentleman and will wait for the moment until you fall in love, he will do everything for this!

He will wait for you all his life if necessary, but I am sure that you will fall in love faster.

“He replaced my home, love and friends. He is my everything.”

Jeongin is like warm weather, everyone is waiting for him and wants him.

Feeling so lonely, 'cause it's not enough

Missin' you only ever since we fell in love (Ciggarets after sex–Touch)

[plutolovesyou]

how soon is now? | part one

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

teasers: one. two. series masterlist. next part here!!

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: listen, i know this timeline is kind of ridiculous, but i’ve organized it all best as i can! this is the expanded story based on those first little blurbs introducing the au (reads fine on its own though), and this part specifically was originally going to be one huge fic, but i've ultimately decided to split it up and drop the first part now, because i feel like it ends in a convenient enough space where i can make a separation not so jarring. so that means this will have a direct continuation (how soon is now? 2 ? lol this is so stupid-), and that will be posted soon enough once i finish it! but yes that means after so much waiting, it's finally here for y’all. i literally thought up this silly idea right before i passed out on new years, and never expected y’all to love it so much…but i keep my promises, so here. also love the smiths and felt the title sort of fit. i feel like not too much happens but eh anyway, thank you for waiting, thank you for reading, and please enjoy!

♧:4.6k word count

◇:suggestive but not explicit - horny descriptions and tension, however no smut (for now?….BUT DON'T HOLD ME TO THAT.) no descriptions of reader’s physical appearance, no use of “y/n”, slow-burn construction and loooooads of pining, a lot of build up but stay with me, attempts at occasional foreshadowing, smau elements(text messages lmao), savage starlight is a plot point lol, hallwaycrush!ellie is sort of a mix of loser/modern/university au/dorky-ish ellie I DON'T EVEN KNOW. abby is your bestie, girl what else do i put here- this is just kinda plot, plot, and more plot progression about the whole ordeal, and me indulging my obsession with modern!ellie. (lmk if there's anything to be added!)

“Abbyyyyyyyyyy.” 

You rolled around your lifelong best friend’s bed, babbling her ear off while she studied away at her desk, or tried to at least. This situation has been a daily occurrence for weeks at this point.

Laying on your stomach facing away from her, you could hear her scoff in annoyance. “What?” “Please give me some advice..I don't know what I'm even supposed to do. She's driving me up the wall." This crush was the sole thing occupying your poor mind, so naturally, you had to drown your bestie with your troubles as well. That's what friends do. Abby spun around on her chair to face you, with a clearly fed up expression on her face, and leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. 

“Well I don’t fucking know man, I’ve already given you my best advice, and that's either introduce yourself, or suffer.” She said coolly. You sat up and groaned. Wasn't there an easier way? One that didn't involve actually taking initiative and doing something? Maybe, hypothetically, you ace a test, and the professor announces it in front of everyone as he emotionally congratulates his star student, and she bounds over, beaming. Then tearfully confesses her love and admiration for you- hold on, where the fuck is this going?

“Oh come on, you know I can’t do that..” You gulped a burning bundle of anxiety down as you replayed the scenarios with your obsession for the thousandth time that day, the mere crumbs you were forced to fixate on until you saw her next, the first sighting that started this whole fiasco,  and shook your head to clear it and listen to what your best friend had to say. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, slamming her textbook shut and making her way over to sit next to you.

“Listen babe, I love you, but you really gotta get ahold of yourself, alright?” She spoke sternly, looking you straight in the eyes to make sure you understood and absorbed every last word she said. “Listen, here's what you're gonna do. when you pass her in the hall, smile, it's simple but it's a classic, okay? And then you listen to the lecturer as normal, right? I have no idea what you nerds do in astrophysics, but that's besides my point. Make sure to pay attention and not stare only at her like a stalker or something, I cannot stress enough how normal you gotta be. But here's where it gets good, you still with me?” 

You're listening to her for sure, and nod vigorously. Crystal clear. She continues, “Okay you said you sit as far as possible from her? Sheesh, why'd you do that? When the class is over I want you to go over to her, and introduce yourself. Catch her on her way out, tap her on the shoulder if you're feeling bold. Ask for some of her contact details, play it cool. Just don't shit yourself, got it? All you gotta do." 

Abby finishes her speech, smirking and looking smug. She's positive she got through to you this time. On the surface you're totally chill, confident even, ready to snatch this ethereal being for yourself, however underneath all that you knew you didn't have an ounce of the courage that was required for this seemingly impossible task. 

Breathing deeply to calm yourself and try to take in her helpful words as best as possible, you give Abby a hug. “Thank you Abs, really. I'll do my best. Oh, but what if I freak out and start stuttering- or what if I trip and fall on her…I can't do this what the hell.” Swarmed with worry, you start doubting yourself yet again. Burying your face in your palms, you feel two strong hands on either side of your upper arms and you look back at Abby, who's really not playing around anymore. 

She was so serious about this it almost scared you. Either she cared about you more than anything, or she wanted to hear the end of these pathetic, lovestruck rambles. You prayed it was the former. 

“Suck it up. You can do this. You've had crushes before haven't you? This should be a piece of cake c’mon, I believe in you. Make sure to keep me updated every step of the way! I need to hear every last detail.” She lightens up at the end and releases you from her grip once she sees you've relaxed. 

Unsurprisingly, your best friend always knew what to say to snap you out of your spirals. Maybe most would disagree with her methods, say she was being rough, but they worked for you. Heart rate returning to a normal pace, you reply genuinely. 

“Okay, okay I got this. Yeah, it'll be fine.” She was getting through to you, this time you felt sure of it. “Good, good. Now will you let me finish this stupid assignment? Then we can watch something or do whatever." Abby chatted as she got up and sat back at her desk, resuming her studious endeavor as she left you with your thoughts. 

Immediately you heard her mutter, “All this and you don't even know her goddamn name…good grief.” For the sake of preserving the peace you chose to graciously ignore that one. She said she wanted some quiet, didn't she? 

Drifting away into a sea of daydreams, your thoughts inevitably returned to being clouded by this cryptic figure. It was like she'd cast a love spell on you. Did she even know who you were? Or did she shoot everyone those insufferably charming looks of hers. Was she even aware of how fucking cool she was? 

Dressed in that deliciously grungy style, you yearned to know what floated behind her greener-than-grass eyes. Her hair looked so smooth and soft, the wispy auburnette strands framing her refined features, intriguing fern tattoo decorating her lean forearm…. You felt your cheeks begin to heat up as a portrait of her materialized in your mind's eye. Nestling into the comfortable atmosphere of your best friend's room, you sunk deeper into your thoughts.

Like Abby had mentioned, it certainly wasn't as if you've never had crushes before, you've certainly had your fair share of them, like most people. But that was a sort of flaky, surface level interest, whether it be for their looks, their little quirks, or ways they treated you. Maybe it has been a while since you'd had a proper crush, but you couldn't recall a time when the infatuation, the pure limerence, had hit you this hard before. You almost felt helpless, just besotted by her.

You simply needed to act on this. Right then and there you steeled yourself, and decided you were going to follow Abby's advice after all, and go after this hallway crush. Worst comes to worst, she turns you down, you get over it eventually, bla bla end of story. It wasn't going to be too complicated, right?

You and Abby had stayed up all night, dusk till dawn, gossiping about things other than your hallway crush, shocking, and you were greatly regretting that decision the very moment it was time to gather your books and get to class.

You really did not feel like stunning everyone around you with a gorgeous outfit today, you were just trying to make it through the day in one piece to be honest with yourself. 

With a pounding headache you threw on some mismatched sweats, and ran out the door to be on time. Your bag felt unreasonably heavy as you made your way down your apartment stairs, and you cursed your past self for choosing a building without an elevator. Sure, exercise is healthy, but it can’t be when you’re feeling like a zombie, and wish for nothing more than a good, long nap.

Luckily the lecture hall was a comfortable distance away from your place, not far enough to make it a pain, but enough so you could get a much needed breath of fresh air. The tiredness had pushed all plans of action you and Abby had discussed the previous night to the back of your head, and you weren't thinking of your crush at all. At least for now. 

Walking slowly with your gaze pointed downward, you eventually made it to the hall. Completely dazed and zoned out, you made a mental note to never pull an all nighter again, gross, who’s idea was that- thump. 

Out of nowhere you're rudely jolted from your silent sulking by colliding with something, or someone? It takes a moment to register what happened, and you quickly look up from staring at the ground to sort the situation out. “Oh my gosh I am so sorry..” 

Profusely apologizing while simultaneously being smacked across the face with the realization of who this was. Her. Your words trail off as you’re suddenly winded, and you feel your blood run cold. You’re transfixed by the intense eye contact, and it feels like time has stopped. Goodness, this is dramatic. 

In the time it takes for you to briefly die and come back to life, the young woman has lowered her chunky headphones so they rest around her neck, Morissey’s vocals faintly floating out of them, and is looking at your stunned state with an indiscernible sneer playing on her face. Was this actually happening? Holy shit you and Abby did not discuss this scenario…you weren’t looking where you were going and had collided with an actual Earth angel. Great.

Still gawking at her like an absolute buffoon, akin to a deer in headlights, she breaks the tension first, with a smooth voice that you would obey virtually any command for. 

“Nah, you’re good.” And a wink. Your heart skipped a beat, or four, when you witnessed her wink at you. Did you imagine it? Was she being suave on purpose or did she have an eyelash in her eye…Was your life a literal rom-com or what? 

“Um..” Your mouth opens and closes in an attempt to form a coherent sentence, but your brain is much too fried to do so because, well, you had just made physical contact with the literal girl of your dreams. And gods did she smell good…while you’re unable to tear your eyes away from hers, she keeps talking as if nothing happened.

“I think the prof had an emergency or fuckin’, I dunno.” She stops to gesture around the two of you at the crowd that had formed in front of the auditorium’s double doors with elegant, ring adorned fingers..holy fuck you needed those inside you right fucking now- WHAT. 

Briskly shoving those thoughts down to the deepest depths of your subconscious back to where they belong, you turned your attention back to her, and put on a brave front. Hyper aware of how searing hot your face felt, her pretty self didn't show a hint of caring that you were making a fool of yourself. They say that any situation is always worse in your head than it was in actuality, well you hoped so. 

“So, what are we supposed to do now?” Clearing your throat you managed a sentence back, hooray. You were doing this. Good job. Although, of course, before the gorgeous nymph before you had a chance to respond with her own assumptions, a substitute lecturer you had never seen before pushes his way through the crowd and unlocks the door while people file in, separating you from her. You felt like Rose, viciously torn away from Jack from Titanic, what a cruel, cruel world this was.

And once again you didn't get to ask her name. Re-slinging her bag with one arm, she looks back at you one final time and throws you a “cya around.” Before disappearing into the auditorium with everyone else. You meekly nod at her and force a lopsided smile, before leaning against the wall to steady yourself after that fiasco in the now empty hallway.

Wasting virtually not a moment of time, you pulled your phone out and began furiously texting Abby with a recount of the events at a speed faster than the speed of light. 

Once that excruciatingly torturous class was over, you applauded yourself for containing the stares in her direction and keeping your eyes fixated on the professor. Whether you actually retained any information, now that was a different story. Picking up your bags and laptop, you stay behind for a moment as everyone else files out, no need to crowd and suffocate amongst the other students, and you had nowhere to be except catch up on your favorite shows and relax all by yourself. 

Filing out the auditorium with everyone else, you see a familiar face pass by you, and vaguely hear Abby’s voice in your head urging you to seize the moment. Now’s your chance, go! And so you gather every little bit of strength you possess to do just that. 

After a couple deep breaths you jog up to her. “Uh, hey.” She turns around and gives you a warm smile, making your legs instantly turn to jelly. You subtly checked her out and took in her outfit, another bulky jacket and lightly distressed jeans. Fingers studded with layered silver rings, and those big ole headphones seemed to be magnetically attached to her, she always had them on her. Note to self: ask for some music recommendations.

She was even hotter up close…with a beautiful galaxy of freckles scattered across her fair skin, you wanted to place a kiss on every single of them. “I, um, never caught your name.” “It's Ellie.” She sticks out her hand for a handshake and you accepted it, you finally had a name to the face you've been pining over so intensely for so long. Abby was going to lose it once you tell her about this. You steady your voice and hide the glee that was likely evident from this interaction going so smoothly, and introduce yourself to her as well.

After some time of idle chit chat and standing there, neither one of you knowing really what to say, Ellie pipes up, facepalming, tsking, and furrowing her brows. “Oh yeah, I don’t mean to spring this on you outta nowhere, but would you wanna study sometime?” She flushes a dusty pink, “I don't know anyone else taking this course and am having kind of a hard time with it...when I chose it, I expected it to be more about space and the planets, and less about numbers and math, my head hurts.”

Her demeanor was making you feel rather comfortable with her, even though the two of you had just formally met a few minutes prior. “I would love to, yeah!” Maybe you were being a little too enthusiastic, but at this point you were operating on pure instinct and not thinking critically of what was coming out of your mouth. “I actually don't have any plans now, or today at all, so if you want to, we can get a head start before the next class?” Well that just slipped out. Go you, blurting things out. 

You had no idea why you'd said that because your place was an absolute mess, clothes strewn everywhere, trash can still full, you'd been too preoccupied with your studies, and well her, to do much about it. To your horror, Ellie exclaims, “Hey, that's perfect! I don't have anything to do right now either, and it would be good to act on it while it's still fresh in my mind, y’know?” Her face morphs into an adorable toothy grin as she taps on her skull comically, you were becoming more obsessed by the second, if that was even possible.

Every little sliver of her personality you got to see under the stoic one you had assumed she had just grasped at your heartstrings. You smiled back at her so hard you almost pulled a muscle in your cheeks, “Awesome! Follow me, then, my dorm isn't far.”

The walk there was mostly fine as the two of you made it to your place, Ellie occasionally making comments about how she hates the class even though she adores outer space and learning about it on her own time, and you were nodding and acting as if you're listening, agreeing with her robotically while she rambled away and you daydreamed about what her lush lips would feel like on yours. You wondered if she was gentle with it, or if she’d kiss you hungrily, devour you like her very last meal….gulp.

Leading her to your place was an automatic task, not much navigation needed, and when the journey was done you had to legitimately stop short for a moment in an attempt to soothe the pounding in your chest. 

The crush that has plagued your mind for ages, who you've just met formally today, was about to be in your room. The two of you were about to be alone. That was totally fine, yeah, she can't be a murderer…..right?

“You good?” She asked sweetly, why did she have to be so nice, “Those stairs were killer, I totally get it, phew.” “Oh for sure, gets me every time.” Covering up your panic smoothly, you unlocked the door and went inside with her. When she walked inside, Ellie took a glance around your room and set herself down at the edge of your bed, immediately making herself comfortable, while you still lingered in the doorway, awkwardly swaying and staring at her, unsure of what to do with yourself. 

Suddenly you had completely forgotten why she was here in the first place. “No way, you read Savage Starlight too???” She spotted the figurine on your desk and snatched it up in her hands to inspect it thoroughly, with a childlike wonder in her eyes. “Wow, this one was a limited edition and it sold out in like an hour, I'm so jealous you got this!! How much you want for it, I'm serious.” She was so excited, and you couldn't believe it. Savage Starlight has always been one of your favorite comics ever, you've loved it since you were a young teen, and now this seemingly perfect human before you, who you're hopelessly obsessed with says she loves it too? Could she get any more flawless, is all you could wonder.

Her happiness because of this little thing you two bonded over was infectious, and some of your nerves slowly began to go away.  Grinning genuinely, you sheepishly said, “I've never met anyone else who likes it, that story has helped me through lots of phases in my life, and Daniela was my gay awakening.” Ellie gaped at you for a beat, making you almost doubt revealing that information.

“No. Fuckin’. Way. Mine too! Her suit was just- damn. And those action scenes in the third volume had my thirteen year old self’s brain just mush for, I don't even know for how long. This is crazy, I can already see we’re gonna get along so well.”

You wanted to talk to her about everything and anything forever, and her glee made you want to squish her, but there was unfortunately work to be done first. “There’s so much we have to discuss, but we gotta get some studying done first if we wanna make it out of this course alive.”

You were sitting at your desk, hunched over the sprawled out textbooks and messy notes, as you drew the graphs and talked to her about the concepts she was struggling with. Your desk was so small and you only had one chair, and you were the one using it, so Ellie was forced to hover over you to see all you were doing.

Focusing solely on the subject before you was proving to be more difficult as studying time went by, because you were a little too aware of the way she had caged you in against the desk to watch, her oversized shirt grazing your upper back. You gripped your pen ever so tightly to minimize any trembling, and kept a steady voice as best you could while explaining it all.

She was so, so close, the tension in the tiny room was palpable, she didn't seem to notice your nervous tremors or the proximity she’d created, and the low murmurs of, “ohhh, mhm, yeah,” as you embarrassingly stammered over your explanations made you flushed and to be frank, needy. You could feel her warmth radiating off of her, could faintly hear her breathing just above you. You didn't dare move a muscle. Was she feeling this too?

At this point you swore the delicious gravelly vibrations from her voice this close to you would be plenty enough to make you cream your pants. The air in the enclosed space was getting hotter and thicker by every passing moment, it took everything you had to keep yourself from losing your mind right now. If you moved back a petty few inches, you’d be pressed flush with her front. What would that be like, you wondered. Oh, no. Your throat felt drier than the desert when you swallowed, the thought of that making you weak.

Since your focus on the work was lapsing, you were beginning to make some little mistakes and blunders, compelling her to take the pen right from your hand and fix them herself. “No, no, this one’s supposed to be like this instead, see? Then you're able to get the right answer which is…” She stretches over you further, you nearly whined, someone save you, and grabs the textbook to review the solution. “Like this, yeah, I was right. Honest mistake though, don’t worry about it.”

You nod your head and make a pathetic murmur of approval, ignoring the fiery tingles spreading all the way up your arm when her hand bumps yours to return the writing utensil, and the blistering coil of want forming in your stomach. This all had to be deliberate, right? She couldn't lack that much spatial awareness, could she? Well, it wasn’t that you minded, she could get as close as she damn wanted to, you'd let her throw you around like a ragdoll even- you were just afraid your heart was going to give out if she kept it up. “Could you show me this work you guys did? Of course the one day I'm late, the prof talks about something new and I miss it.” 

What feels like an eternity later, you hear her groan above you and she returns to her earlier spot on your bed. You can finally breathe properly. Glancing at the clock, your own headache begins to set in. Crap it was late, how time flies. 

“We’ve been studying for so long, it’s getting late.” “Shit, you’re right, I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome. Sorry about that, and hey, thanks for this. I understand it all a lot better now, see you tomorrow.”

She stands up abruptly and ushers herself out of your door in a flash, to which you clumsily stand up, knock your chair over, and hastily run after her, not wanting her to go just yet. “Wait, Ellie!” “What's up, did I forget something?”

She pats her pockets and looks at you with concern. Round puppy dog eyes, and lips in a miniscule pout, so cute. You were in front of her now, but did not process what you actually wanted to say. Just ran after her like the smitten nincompoop you are. Upon feeling your face go hot, you look at the ground to mutter, “Uh- nothing. See you later.” Realistically, what were you planning on saying, or doing?

After stumbling over your words you two finally part ways and you slump down against your door, missing her presence already. You simultaneously wanted to jump around or open your bedside table drawer to release the energy you'd accumulated, and wanted to fall into the deepest sleep of your life to recuperate from the experience. This was just, a lot. You wanted to scream and screech like there's no tomorrow, but did not want to deal with noise complaints from the others living on your floor. Gosh she was so close, she shares your niche interest, your hands touched, albeit accidentally, lo and behold you were in love with her.

Maybe it was early to call it that, but you were going to plan out your future together. Preferably a quaint, peaceful farmhouse, the one you two lovebirds renovated together exactly how you envisioned, where you could ogle her doing the farmwork. Ugh. Cook all her favorite meals, make sweet, sweet love under the moonlight. Take strolls through the flower gardens you two planted, receive her curated bouquets as gifts, you two are going to have such a tender, domestic life. 

You had to mull it over some more, and didn’t dare wish to forget how close she was to you, you were still buzzing from her essence. You were pointlessly pacing around your room now, unable to stop looping the study session's events in your head. The simplicity, the eroticism of the encounter. One-sided or not, you had yet to find out more about her, the impatience was going to take over. The day almost seemed too good to be true, but for now you had to force yourself to relax and think about something other than her. Time to browse Pinterest with striking kitchen ideas for your beautiful future. 

What were you going to say to her the next time you see her? You were eager to know how, or if at all, this new friendship was going to progress. Part of you was dying of impatience, but the rest of you wanted to take it all as slow as possible, savoring every little moment and making the most of it. 

You sighed, this was going to be a long, long, year.

lovely taggies: @amiorca @mostlyhornyandsad @lasting-lover @radioheadfan699 @sophie-thefrog8 @machetegirl109 @ellieschair @aouiaa @wavesgocrash @tangerinngi @elliesbitchvenus @dinaissoprettyoml @rxreaqia @camicocom1a @elliesexual @ellslvr @boobdrug @writing-on-a-bathroom-stall @bready101 @yourelliewillms

.......really hoping this doesn't flop because it isn't smutty, yall wanted more fics that are plot soooo

[vivid-ink]

okay since ur req is open rn i have an idea and ofc i don’t mind waiting, take ur time w it! basically it’s a neteyam x reader angst + fluff (oblivious idiots + opposites attract trope) whereby reader is loak’s bestfriend, who also has a crush on neteyam but keeps it a secret bcs she thought neteyam sees her as another troublesome little sibling like loak but what she doesn’t know is that neteyam also has a crush on her but he thought she sees him only as loak’s boring and non adventurous older brother. idk how it should go from that but can you please PLEASE ends it w fluff 🙏 thank you in advance! feel free to change anything and take as much time as you’d need bby 💓

Thank you for your request anon! �� I got on to this a lot quicker than I thought as my ideas for it came to me & boy did it just flow! I thought it was going to be a quick drabble, but holy moly, how have I ended up with 11.3k words of angst, drama, romance & sweet, sweet fluff! I hope you love it, anon! And I hope everyone else enjoys it too!

"Your Best Friend's Brother"

Pairing: Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya Reader No warnings apply - Just a boat-load of angst, drama, protective & possessive Neteyam, romance & toe-curling fluff. Again, I personally do not like the use of 'Y/N' so your name in this is 'Kalia' (pronounced KAA-lee-yah). Language note - paskalin means 'sweet berry' and it's a term of endearment.

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

~~ Neteyam’s POV ~~

Neteyam trudged through the verdant underbrush of the woodlands following the sound of playful slapping and squealing in the distance where he was sure he would find you and Lo’ak. He rolled his eyes with a sigh, wondering what mischief and hazardous activities you would both be getting up to today. Fiddling with the string of his bow across his front, he readjusted his bow to sit more comfortably across his torso. The little leather pack that contained his carving implements and bow oil bounced lightly at his hip as he walked.

Granted, it was nice having days off from his warriors’ duties. Group hunts and patrols could be strenuous depending on the game being hunted and the distance travelled, so the days where he could just relax on home ground and let loose were appreciated. Until his parents foisted the responsibility of keeping Lo’ak out of trouble on him…

Lo’ak was only a year younger than him, but Neteyam often ruminated and marvelled at how his brother’s maturity level was still leagues behind his own. Of course, being the oldest child did force one to grow up a little too quickly, but at already seventeen years of age, one would think that Lo’ak would have a better compass and not such a huge proclivity for getting into trouble.

If Neteyam was honest, the only thing that made the days he had to babysit his brother bearable was you.

You and Lo’ak might as well be joined at the hip. The best of friends since you could both walk, everywhere Lo’ak went, you went with him. Every stupid little game or dangerous stunt Lo’ak pulled, you were right there beside him. You had always tagged along with Lo’ak and his other siblings. So, for the longest time, Neteyam had not thought much of the way things were and it had not bothered him; you and Lo’ak, the disruptive duo.

However, things had begun to shift ever so subtly for Neteyam as he grew older, as you all did, growing and maturing into young adults. The older he got, the more he noticed you. His body started to react and respond to you in a way that made him increasingly aware that he was a young man and you were a young woman.

Neteyam began to notice the way your beautiful braids brushed the small of your back. He began to notice the enticing way your slim waist flared out to the curve of your hips and your bottom; the soft rounds of your breasts behind your clothing…

It had hit him quite suddenly one evening and things had never been the same since.

*** FLASHBACK ***

“Kalia!” Neteyam heard Tuk cry gleefully. His little sister bounced through his family’s shelter to throw herself at you, uncaring of the thumping impact she made against your thighs. Your laugh was jovial as you bent to give Tuk a hug, expertly balancing the wooden platter you held in your other hand.

Neteyam watched as you greeted his parents politely at the threshold, stepping into the space only when his mother welcomed you in with a wave of her hand. Neytiri embraced you affectionately and returned your greeting, “Oel ngati kameie, Kalia. Come in. What wonderful food have you brought to spoil us with today?”

The wooden platter held two mounds, one much bigger than the other, both wrapped in cooking cloth. You gently set the platter down in the centre of the space where the food mats were, “Mother and I have been practising making tumpasuk (red-orange berry) sweet bread. This batch was quite successful so we thought we’d share.”

“Ah, you know your cooking is always welcome in my household.” Jake sniggered, patting his belly enthusiastically.

Reaching back towards the platter, you picked up the smaller wrapped mound of bread and rose to your feet. Neteyam saw you scan the vicinity and his heart gave an involuntary skip when your vivid green eyes eventually landed on him and your gazes locked. A small smile played across your lips and he was suddenly drawn to how succulent they looked, a thought that made his ears heat in embarrassment.

You made your way towards him and Neteyam had to make a conscious effort to close his mouth and school his expression into one of nonchalance, lest his face betray the sensual thoughts that his brain had begun to annotate about you as you approached. You had grown very pretty in recent years and despite the nuisance that you and Lo’ak always presented, Neteyam realised that you had always been a very sweet girl. A very sweet, very pretty girl.

“Hey Neteyam,” Your voice was a tender lilt in his ears and he lifted his hands to receive the small mound as you held the sweet treat out to him in both of yours, “This one is for you.”

Neteyam swallowed tightly, hoping the heat in his cheeks and ears were not colouring his skin too obviously, “Thanks, Kalia. I’m sure it’ll taste amazing, as always.”

The soft peal of your giggling tickled his ears then and Neteyam had to resist the urge to reach out and stroke your cheek. Your cyan skin looked so smooth and he was willing to bet that it would be warm and silken beneath his fingertips. The little points of your canines peaked out endearingly from behind your upper lip as you grinned and Neteyam’s nose was suddenly perceptive of an alluring scent that he knew was not the sweetbread in his hands.

“I put more dried tumpasuk berries in yours, as well a little extra rock sugar. I know you like yours sweeter.” You murmured quietly to him.

Neteyam returned your smile, silently allowing himself to bask in the feeling of being looked after specially by you. “I do, you’re right. Thanks again.”

“Hey!” Lo’ak’s voice grated from off to the side, “Why does Neteyam always get his own special treat? I thought I was your best friend!”

“You are, which is why it’s you and I that always get up to no good together.” You agreed heartily, “But your poor brother is the one who has to put up with our shit, so I figured we better thank him?”

Neteyam’s heart sank a little. Oh, was that why he always got his own treat? You were just thanking him as Lo’ak’s babysitter big brother. He suddenly felt a lot less special than he did a few moments ago…

*** FLASHBACK END ***

That had been just over a year ago and ever since then, Neteyam had grown more and more critical of your friendship with Lo’ak. Your spirited friendship with his brother seemed more at odds now to him than it ever had before. You had matured into a young woman who appeared to have her head screwed on the right way, kind-hearted and generous with good instincts. Yet all of this seemed to vaporise into thin air the moment you were around Lo’ak.

Neteyam did not understand why you persisted on accompanying his brother on his silly little escapades, playing stupid games like seeing who could pinch and punch the other the hardest. By Eywa, Neteyam had wanted to punch Lo’ak the day he had seen the bruises and marks he had left on your shoulders and arms. The thought of someone intentionally causing you pain and marring your beautiful skin made his blood boil, even though he knew that you had willingly participated in the ridiculous exercise.

But most of all, Neteyam hated the way Lo’ak’s recklessness endangered you.

Not that this meant he cared any less for Lo’ak’s safety than yours. He loved his brother and all his other siblings immensely and there was a natural desire on his part to keep them all safe. However, his impulse to protect you felt different. It was not rooted in the same place of familial love and affection he felt for his siblings. Instead, the strong urge he felt to protect you rather stemmed from his attraction to you as a male was to a female he was interested in.

If Neteyam had his way, you would never go on another irresponsible adventure with Lo’ak ever again. And this put him at odds with his brother. However, he acknowledged that getting in the way of your friendship would be wrong and he knew it would sour things overall for all three of you.

Neteyam had to find a way to curb this newfound possessiveness that he felt for you. You were not his and he was nothing more to you than your best friend’s older brother. His role was to keep an eye on Lo’ak; keep Lo’ak out of trouble and he would keep you out of trouble by default. Simple as that. Nothing more.

Your squeals and peals of laughter became clearer as Neteyam rounded the corner of a lush coppice into a glade of fyìpmaut (squid fruit) trees. Sure enough, as expected, there were you and Lo’ak, chasing each other round the glade with bits of squashed fruit in your fists, stained almost from head to toe in bright pink squid fruit residue.

Perhaps this was a good time to tell you both that fyìpmaut fruit juice stained almost permanently on whatever it came into contact with…

~~ Your POV ~~

“Lo’ak, you sucker!” You yelled out, darting out of the way as Lo’ak attempted to grab hold of you to smear you further with squid fruit, “I’ve got way more fruit on you than you have on me!”

“Yeah? Well I beat you earlier at seed-spitting, so we’re even.”

The glade of squid fruit trees were in high season currently, the trees around you bursting with bright purple fruit. The fruit hung in bunches, much like utumauti (banana fruit). Each piece of fruit was like a long, squidgy antenna, full of magenta coloured flesh that had five or six stony seeds in them.

Fresh from your run through the woodlands earlier with rumbling stomachs, it had been Lo’ak’s idea to stop and feast on your find. What had begun as a sweet and innocent snack-stop had soon turned playful when Lo’ak had challenged you to see who could spit the seeds the furthest. Seeds were spat, a winner was crowned and then you, against your better judgement, had decided to hurl a handful of pulverised fruit at him. War then ensued, which led you both to the present moment, sticky, breathless and dyed bright pink.

Lo’ak flung another piece of squashed fruit at you, which you only just managed to duck out of the way of, laughing, “Ok, alright! Truce?”

Your best friend snorted at the sight of you, “You’ve got it all up in your hair. You’re going to have to scrub your braids out and re-do them all!”

You launched yourself at Lo’ak, tackling him to the ground in a jumble of mock hisses and snarls, before a familiar voice plucked you both out of your tussle.

“Mum is going to twist your ears so hard they’ll fall off, Lo’ak.”

Startled, you shot to your feet at Neteyam’s voice. Self-consciousness overwhelmed you and you avoided meeting his gaze. Great Mother, you must look a mess… Did Lo’ak just say you had fruit in your hair?... You began a futile attempt to clean up by swiping at the bits of fruit on your arms and legs, trying to flick and rub the tacky mess from your skin and clothing.

“Ah, here comes the killjoy. Why is Mum going to twist my ears, bro?” Lo’ak queried, joining you at your side, following your lead and partaking in a fruitless attempt to clean up.

Neteyam’s toned legs came into your downcast view as he stepped up to the pair of you, and you instinctively looked up to acknowledge him. Your saliva dried up in your mouth as it always did when you laid eyes on him. Your quiet crush on him was getting rather out of hand in the confines of your own consciousness. You would never admit to all the times you had daydreamed girlishly of Neteyam, of all the things a girl wanted a boy she liked to do to her; holding his hand; a slow dance in the fading light of a dying bonfire; a kiss…

You had never admitted your feelings to anyone and especially not to Lo’ak. He would never let you live it down, crushing on his older brother. Though you knew Lo’ak had his suspicions about the way you felt.

Lo’ak thought his older brother was a dull and uninspiring killjoy, but if you were honest, you found that Neteyam’s maturity only added to the already large number of reasons you found him attractive. He was gentle, thoughtful, extremely loyal to those he cared about and one of the most skilled warriors the Omatikaya had ever seen. And he was very handsome… compassionate, intellectual, with a lovely deep voice… Your list went on.

“Squid fruit juice stains.” Neteyam stated matter-of-factly, “It’s going to take a lot of scrubbing to get it off your skin. As for your clothing, the stains will never wash out of cloth. These clothes you’re wearing are ruined, both of you.”

You heard Lo’ak bite back a curse as he fiddled with the fabric of his loincloth. It had been a lovely moss green before, but thanks to the addition of the squid fruit juice, it was now a rather unappealing shade of splotchy browns. You sighed, looking at your own ruined chest covering and loincloth. Your clothing had been a shade of lilac and while the magenta-coloured fruit juice did not contrast quite as jarringly against the fabric of your clothing as it did on Lo’ak’s, the stains were still clearly stains. There was no way the splodges would ever pass for artistic embellishment.

“At least, we didn’t get up to any dangerous shit today.” Lo’ak mused, elbowing Neteyam who sprang away lightly from his juice-covered brother with a chuckle.

“Good. We don’t need a repeat of the rock slide incident from the other week.” Neteyam cautioned, pursing his lips, “You could have both gotten really hurt from that.”

“Eh, it was fine. Kalia rolled out of the way in the end, didn’t you?” Lo’ak slapped you heavy-handedly on the back and you winced slightly in pain.

“It was a very close shave. And watch your strength, bro. Don’t be so rough with her.” The rebuke from Neteyam was delivered in an even tone, but there was an authority behind it that made Lo’ak roll his eyes.

“We should probably go and wash as best as we can before heading home.” You exhaled, feeling the stick of the fruit juice between your fingers, “The juice is starting to dry and it’s getting itchy.”

Neteyam was eyeing you up and down with an insouciant expression that betrayed very little of what he might be thinking and feeling in that moment. You were used to this. Neteyam very rarely displayed strong emotion or had dramatic reactions. He was always calm and collected. If Lo’ak was a jaunty and splashing stream, Neteyam was a deep and tranquil lake.

However, his intent gaze only fired the coals of your self-consciousness and you began to pick worriedly through the soiled braids of your hair. You realised then that there were small, drying bits of fruit still clinging to the backs of your fingers, and you stuck your fingers into your mouth one by one, trying to the best of your efforts to suck them clean.

You heard Neteyam suck in a deep breath through his nose and he spun away from you, beginning to amble back the way he came, “There’s a split in the stream farther back where you can both wash. Come on, we want to get back before eclipse.”

Heat flushed your face and ears and you swallowed the lump of shame in your throat. You probably looked absolutely feral, covered in gummy fruit bits and your hair all dishevelled. What girl ever wanted the boy she had a crush on to see her like this? You cursed your short-sightedness. You had known today was Neteyam’s day off and that you would likely see him.

You took a lot of pride in your appearance usually. Your mother always ensured your braids were impeccably done and you had an array of jewellery and clothing that you enjoyed picking through, deciding what you wanted to wear from day to day. Part of the reason was because you enjoyed being well put together, and the other reason was that you wanted to look good for your best friend’s older brother.

Following Lo’ak and Neteyam as they began their walk back to the stream, you mentally chastised yourself. Neteyam probably thought of you as a second nuisance. He already had Lo’ak to contend with from day to day and there you always were, getting into messy situations right along with him. You knew it did not make you look good, but you loved hanging out with Lo’ak. He was your dearest friend and he made you laugh with all his folly.

Reaching the split in the stream, Neteyam nodded towards one side, “Lo’ak and I will take this side. You can wash on the other. We’ll all meet back here when we’re done.”

“OK, got it.” You nodded in understanding.

“Kalia?”

You turned to face Neteyam at the sound of your name, your ears twitching curiously as you wondered why he had called out again.

Neteyam shot you a toothy grin and he chuckled, clearly tickled by something, “Make sure you wash your face really well. You’ve still got squid fruit pieces on your nose and forehead.”

Mortified, your hands flew to your face and sure enough, your fingers met something stodgy in the centre of your forehead. Cursing under your breath you turned on heel and strode for the stream on your side, secretly enjoying the sound of Neteyam’s husky laughter even though it made your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

Wading into the stream, you stopped once the cool water pooled around your hips, not wanting to go any deeper. You had never been comfortable in deep or rushing water. From childhood, you had always had an irrational fear of water. All attempts to teach you to swim had failed, as a result. You could tread water at best, but that could not be considered proper swimming. No matter, you had never held any desire to join the fisherfolk in their work hunting fish and gathering other river prey anyway.

Reaching to draw a cupful of water in your hands, you splashed yourself all over to moisten your skin. You began your arduous process of intently cleaning the fruit stains from your skin, knowing that this was the easy part. Washing your hair would be an even bigger task. You cleaned gently around a bad scrape on your left elbow, careful not to dislodge the healing scab that had formed there.

In the repetitive monotony of splashing, scrubbing and dunking, it was easy for your thoughts to drift back to that fateful day a few weeks ago when you earned that scrape. You had acquired several other grazes and cuts on your thighs and knees that same day too. It was also one of the few days you had ever seen Neteyam abandon his usually measured and composed demeanour in a rare display of emotion…

*** FLASHBACK ***

“I’ve got more rocks than you do.” You teased in a sing-song voice as you watched Lo’ak eye the broken cliff face before you, trying to decide which piece of rock he wanted to dislodge next.

“Yeah, but the rocks in my pile are bigger.” Lo’ak countered, “They’re riskier moves than the tiny little pebbles you’ve picked off.”

It was a dicey game you were playing, and once again it was all Lo’ak’s idea. There was an overhanging arch on the damaged cliff face that stood before you and the aim was to take turns dislodging as many rocks as possible before the overhang crumbled down.

“I thought that the person with the most rocks when the overhang crumbles, wins? Not the person with the biggest rocks.”

Sticking his tongue out at you, Lo’ak picked another hefty looking stone and set his foot on it, attempting to dislodge it with his body’s weight, “Nah, I’ve changed the rules. Person with the most amount of big rocks wins.”

Several smaller stones crumbled from the overhang, smacking and rolling loudly onto the ground in a precarious song of warning at the danger they were trifling with.

“That’s so unfair, you skxawng!” You whined peevishly, “You can’t change the rules partway through the game! Stop being a dick.”

“How about the both of you just stop entirely?” Neteyam’s voice called out as he appeared at the treeline. He had left the two of you for a bit to go down to the river to refill all your waterskins, and look what mischief you had both managed to get up to in that short span of time.

Lo’ak threw his arms up in the air, exasperated, “Nah, don’t ruin the fun, Neteyam. I’ve almost won anyway!”

“Are you kidding me, bro?” Neteyam exclaimed, aghast as he looked from his brother to you and then to your respective piles of rock, “Stop right now. That overhang is going to fall at any moment and it’s dangerous. Get away from there.”

“That’s the whole point, bro! We’re trying to see who can dislodge the most rocks before it crumbles.”

“Is it the most rocks or the biggest rocks?! You keep changing it!” You squealed in frustration. Both you and Lo’ak had strong competitive streaks, and neither of you liked losing.

Sensing your genuine upset, Lo’ak acquiesced and proposed a final tie-break challenge, “Alright, alright! How about this? You see that big rock over by you and this big one here by me? Whoever dislodges it first wins the whole game, once and for all. Never mind our piles.”

“No, no way. Stop it, both of you. We’re leaving now!” Neteyam hissed gravely.

However, neither you nor Lo’ak were paying him any attention. Narrowing your eyes at your best friend, you considered his proposal. You looked at the size of the rock Lo’ak had picked out for you, noted its position and then looked over at the rock he had assigned himself. Yours appeared to be in a better position. It was not wedged in as tightly to the cliff face as his was. You reckoned you could do it.

“Deal.” You called out to Lo’ak, who hooted in triumph despite Neteyam’s snarl of vexation at his side.

Both of you got stuck in immediately, feet and hands all intent on dislodging your respective rocks. Yours wobbled in its spot and you barked out a laugh of impending victory.

Several small rocks fell from overhead then and a thunderous crash echoed from above. What happened next happened so quickly that you were unsure if it had been your rock or Lo’ak’s that had caused the aftermath. The overhang disintegrated in a flash and a slew of mud and jagged rocks came pouring at speed over the edge where the overhang had been.

A cry of surprise left you and you stumbled backwards, tripping and falling painfully onto your side. Instinctively you rolled away from the surge of the rock slide and curled into foetal position, hands and arms over your head with your knees pressed to your chest.

The deafening roar of the rock slide dissipated, leaving a swirling cloud of dust and debris. Its gritty and granular texture stung your nose and you thought you could feel the grainy scratch of the tainted air all the way down your windpipe and into your lungs as you coughed violently.

Slowly uncurling your form, you tested your joints in small movements. You were scratched and scraped, but nothing felt broken or seriously injured. You could faintly make out Lo’ak and Neteyam’s worried voices as they called out to you, and you responded through a tickly throat, “I’m here! I’m OK!”

The rock slide was massive. It had divided you and separated you from the boys where you all stood in a raised wall of rock and mud. Thankfully you were out in the open and so you were not trapped. You just had to climb over the wreckage to get back to the other side.

You saw the rocks at the uppermost part of the wreckage shift and Neteyam’s head poked over the peak, closely followed by Lo’ak who cried, “Oh, shit! Kalia!”

The pair of brothers climbed gingerly over the apex of the wreckage, sliding downward on the slope towards you.

Neteyam reached you first though and you were gradually helped to your feet by his strong and firm hands. His eyes were wide and his breaths rushed from him in harsh pants while he checked you over. He circled you, gently lifting your arms as he went around, looking for any sign of serious injury. He crouched down then to look at the grazes on your legs.

You were a little shaken by the scare of the rock slide, but you were fine and you patted Neteyam’s hands where they clutched at your hips, his eyes focused on a graze along your thigh, “I’m fine, Neteyam. Nothing is broken. They’re only skin wounds.”

His eyes locked with yours for a few moments and they blazed with fury in their golden depths. He rose to his feet and you were prepared for him to berate you, but he swivelled around to Lo’ak instead and unleashed his ire, “You fucking moron! What were you thinking? No, I’ll tell you what, you weren’t thinking! This could have ended so much worse than it has! You should know better than this!”

Lo’ak shrivelled under his brother’s wrath and Neteyam returned his livid eyes to you, “You should know better. Both of you!”

Neteyam was almost vibrating with his rage. His nose was wrinkled and his upper lip was curled back in a snarl. You shrank at the sight, your shame consuming you as his words sunk in. He was right; you and Lo’ak had been extremely reckless.

Frankly, you were lucky to have escaped with your lives.

*** FLASHBACK END ***

That was another thing that you discovered you adored about Neteyam. He forgave easily and he never held a grudge.

You smiled to yourself at the thought. Neteyam had been angry for all of ten minutes at most, before he reverted to his usual caring and concerned self. You appreciated his kindly nature for what it was. Lo’ak, on the other hand, enjoyed pushing people’s buttons and you knew he took his brother’s forgiving nature for granted by always testing his boundaries.

The true blue of your own skin stared back at you as you surveyed your torso and your limbs. Your face felt fresh and your hair, though sopping wet, no longer felt tacky. Satisfied with your scrubbing efforts, you waded back to the mossy bank of the stream where your clothing lay. You had tried to wash those too, but no amount of scouring and wringing had freed the stains from the cloth.

Dressing quickly, you met the boys back at the agreed spot.

Lo’ak’s skin still looked purple in places and his jaw dropped at the squeaky-clean sight of you, “How’d you get all of it off you like that?”

You gloated a little at your job well done and smirked at him, “Good and proper scrubbing. Something you’d know nothing about. If you did, you’d smell better in general too.”

The comment elicited an offended gasp from Lo’ak and a hearty laugh from Neteyam who, despite having not partaken in their juicy fruit war, had also taken the opportunity to bathe.

“I don’t smell bad!” Lo’ak protested, chest puffing with indignance.

You laughed and teased your friend further, “No, you don’t smell bad, but you don’t smell good either.”

Neteyam stepped up to you then and your breath hitched on your next inhale. You hoped he had not noticed. Unlike his brother, Neteyam smelled very good to you. He scent was a clean musk like fresh forest greenery with a tinge of something spicy underneath.

“You did a good job scrubbing, but you missed a spot.” The rich depth of Neteyam’s voice swept over you like a warm caress and you held your breath like you had somehow lost the ability to respire like a normal person. You saw him reach out with a hand and then his thumb swiped slowly and deliberately at something high on your forehead near your hairline.

His hand pulled away and you registered a small pink glob of squid fruit on his thumb just as said thumb disappeared into his mouth to suck the digit clean. Neteyam’s intense gaze never left yours as he pulled his thumb unhurriedly from between his lips. A delightful shiver raced down your spine, and your girlish daydreams churned their way to the forefront of your mind when you saw his tongue dart out to lick his lips one last time.

Neteyam turned then to lead the trio of you away back towards home and you vaguely registered your numb and tingling legs following suit alongside Lo’ak.

A revolted groan sounded from Lo’ak and it pulled you back to reality from the daydream you had been immersed in. Your head pivoted to meet his face, which was contorted into a disgusted moue, “What is it, Lo’ak?”

“Stop eyeing up my brother’s ass.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. Truthfully, you had been admiring Neteyam’s rear, but you were not about to admit that. Scrambling for cover and trying to worm your way out of the hole you had found yourself in, you stuttered, “I wasn’t! I was looking at his- umm, at his-”

“Ass.” Lo’ak supplied again, deadpan.

“No!” You hissed under your breath. Neteyam was walking a little way ahead of the both of you, but you were careful to keep your volume down. “I was looking at his tail!”

A sarcastic scoff was your best friend’s response and he eyed you calculatingly, his expression dripping with his disbelief, “Because tails are so interesting. Come on, Kalia, don’t lie to me. I know you find my brother attractive. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Stubborn and resolute in your plan not to admit the truth, you shook your head, “Nope.”

Lo’ak laughed, the stray beaded braid that wasn’t tucked behind his ear swinging charmingly with the movements of his head, “Oh, so I suppose you just look at everyone like that? All moony-eyed? Hell, do you look at my ass like that when I’m not looking?”

“Eww! No! Gross!”

What ensued was a series of pinches, slaps and squeals as you squabbled. Neteyam halted in his tracks and he turned to see what all the commotion was about with a questioning look on his face.

Unable to resist the opportunity for another jibe at you, Lo’ak called out to him, “Oi, turn back around bro. You’re ruining the view.”

You felt the blood rush to your face and ears and you knew instantly that you were flushing a deep shade of violet. You slapped the back of Lo’ak’s thigh hard and satisfaction bloomed within you when he gave a pained yowl in reaction to it.

~~ Neteyam’s POV ~~

Seeing that you were both just bickering again as you often were, Neteyam gave a weary shake of his head and resumed walking. He had missed the meaning of Lo’ak’s cryptic comment, but he had not missed the deep blush staining its way across your smooth cheeks. He smiled to himself. You looked so beautiful when you blushed.

The bright pink of the squid fruit juice against your blue skin earlier had also coloured your complexion a lovely purple hue and it had reminded him very much of your blushing skin. The fruit juice had been smeared all over you; in your hair, on your face, your neck, your chest… And you had looked like a mouth-watering mess to him.

Neteyam felt saliva pool in his cheeks at the memory. By Eywa, he had wanted to clean your skin off himself with his own mouth and tongue. He had wanted to kiss you and taste the sweetness of the squid fruit on your plump lips. He had wanted to lick the gummy bits of fruit from your slender fingers and trail his tongue over every stained part of you until you were clean.

When you had sucked your own fingers into your mouth in the next moment, his thoughts had darkened even further. The sight of your succulent lips wrapped around your fingertips had been incredibly arousing, and he had forced himself to turn away when the next image his very male brain had supplied was of your sweet lips wrapped around something else of his.

He halted his thoughts immediately at the recollection. This had to stop. He had to find a way to distract himself from hankering after you. You were his baby brother’s best friend, for goodness sake.

A feeling of futility swamped Neteyam when the next remark his brain supplied in response to his previous statement was ‘so what?’

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

A few months later

Neteyam sat leaning against the softer, peeling bark of kelutral (Hometree) on one of the upper boughs. He had returned from the day’s patrol not long ago and the soft light of partial eclipse streamed in dappled rays from the leafy canopy above.

Polishing the wood of his bow was one of the few things he found therapeutic in life. It was a mundane task and repetitive in nature, but it relaxed him and gave him time to just think and be. The slightly, nutty scent of the bow oil he was using was also a comforting smell that reminded him of who he was (a mighty warrior, firstborn son of the olo’eyktan) and it grounded him in those facts.

A much more saccharine scent tinged the air around him then and Neteyam’s ears twitched, alerted to the approach of someone from the branches below him. A loaf-shaped parcel, smelling absolutely delicious and wrapped in cooking cloth was carefully placed next to his thigh and he smiled, “Hey Kalia.”

Shifting to peer downward over the edge of his seat, Neteyam met your lovely green eyes which glimmered currently with something he could not decipher in their depths.

You grinned toothily at him and your tone was earnest, “Are you busy? I don’t want to impose.”

“Nah, I’m just chilling.” Neteyam replied, patting the space next to him and watching with a genial smile as you eagerly hopped up to join him at his invitation. He picked the loaf-shaped gift up and cocked his head at you, “What’s this for? It’s your birthday tomorrow, not mine. Why are you giving me a treat?”

Your teeth nibbled at your lower lip and you turned beseeching eyes at him, “I know you like utumauti cake so I set some aside for you from the batch I made this morning. I need your help.”

“Ahh, so this is bribery, is it?” Neteyam taunted mildly, regarding you through narrowed eyes.

“Well, kind of, but not really. I would have saved you some cake anyway even if I didn’t have a favour to ask.”

“I’m just teasing you.” Neteyam’s chuckle was warm, “You know you don’t have to bribe me to help you out. What do you need?”

Tender affection swelled in his chest as he watched you beam at him in excitement at what you were about to ask. Neteyam realised in that moment that he would do just about anything to see you smile, to make you happy. He enjoyed your cooking and the little treats you left him, but they were unnecessary. You had an unlimited supply of favours from him, as far as he was concerned.

You were almost bouncing next to him with your delight as you spoke, “The river trout are migrating currently and I want to see them tonight down at fkewkxor (mighty waterfall). My parents said I could go, but only if you came with me.”

The annual river trout migration passed through Omatikaya territory each year as they swam downstream through the nearby river. The migration was a stunning vision after eclipse at the falls, the bioluminescence of the masses of trout rippling in a multihued display as they made their journey down towards and over the falls before carrying on their way.

Neteyam’s agreement fell easily from his lips. He was more than happy to accompany you tonight, “Sure. Of course I’ll come with you.” However, before his imagination could begin to conjure up delightful little fantasies of how he would spend his time alone with you this evening, a maddeningly familiar voice called from below.

“Did he say yes? Can we go tonight?” Lo’ak.

Irritation flared through him and Neteyam almost sagged in disappointment. He was conscious of keeping his expression cool though. Of course Lo’ak would be coming. He was your best friend. But you both needed a chaperone to go out after eclipse and that was where he fit into the picture. It seemed you had picked up on his annoyance anyway and you wrinkled your nose sheepishly at him, eyes beseeching.

With a long-suffering sigh, Neteyam called down to his brother, “Yes, I’ll take you both tonight! I’ll meet you at the ikran rookery after last meal and we’ll go then.”

You let out a gleeful squeal and pumped your fist into the air, and Neteyam could not help the grin that wormed its way across his cheeks at your elation. You were thanking him profusely and were just about to slip off the bough to leave him to his peace, when he took your hand to get your attention. The little gasp of surprise you emitted was endearing.

Neteyam squeezed your hand gently, his thumb rubbing in fond strokes across your knuckles, “Only because it’s your birthday tomorrow.”

He released your hand and you thanked him one more time with an appreciative smile, “Thanks, Neteyam. It means a lot. I hope you like the cake.”

***~~~***

~~ Your POV ~~

The spectacle was breathtaking. The swell of the frothing rapids at the mouth of the waterfall was a foamy contrast against the rippling flashes of bioluminescent colour from the trout beneath the surface. You could not make out the individual fish, but the polychromatic mass of them made it look like the water was alive with colour. The entire waterfall glowed in the darkness of eclipse and you could hardly believe your eyes at what you were seeing.

Neteyam had led the three of you to an enormous tree that grew almost right by the mouth of the waterfall. The tree’s boughs and branches extended and hung out over the waterfall itself, making it a prime viewing spot. Your cheeks hurt at how wide you were smiling and even Neteyam seemed just as enamoured by the vision where he stood next to you.

The trout migration was a beautiful sight, but Neteyam was beautiful too.

Neteyam was entirely focused on the spectacle before him and it gave you a perfect opportunity to stare. You knew staring was rude, but only if you were caught, right?

In the low light of eclipse, his skin almost appeared a richer shade of blue, his darker stripes a complementary cobalt against his cyan skin. The bioluminescent tanhì (freckles) on his face sparkled bright like stars in the night sky like his own unique set of constellations. Your eyes tracked his tanhì on their journey down his striking form; over his shoulder, down his well-muscled chest and abdomen; down to his hip and toned thighs…

“I thought you wanted to come here to watch the trout.”

Your head snapped up to Neteyam’s face and you found him watching you, watching him. Mortification shot through you at being caught, and your brain was blank and useless in that moment, completely unhelpful at finding something to say. You must have looked very much like a trout then with your wide, unblinking eyes, your mouth opening and closing wordlessly…

Neteyam was still watching you intently, but there was a hint of something in his eyes, something you had not seen before; something playful and hot and utterly male. It made your skin prickle with a delicious heat and made flutters burst in your stomach.

You broke the eye contact, embarrassed, and your words finally returned to you again though they were not exactly coherent, “I did! I do- I am- It’s just- Just thank you.”

You chanced a glance at him again and a corner of his lips quirked upward. Neteyam dipped his head downward, his chin lowering, but his eyes never left yours as he watched you. You shivered at the look. He looked like a hunter about to capture his prey…

“Holy shit! You have to come up here. The view is amazing and there are no lower branches in the way of your eyeline.” Lo’ak exclaimed from several branches up, “Come on, guys!”

Excited, you climbed your way up to meet him with Neteyam following close behind.

The branch Lo’ak stood on was a younger branch near the top of the tree’s canopy. It was not as thick and impervious as the older boughs lower down, but it appeared to be holding Lo’ak’s weight just fine. You hopped nimbly up onto it and began gingerly making your way down it towards Lo’ak who had his hand waiting outstretched for you. The branch bowed ever so slightly and it swayed under your feet as it adjusted to your added weight. You halted your steps.

Neteyam’s voice was a low warning from behind you where he remained next to the tree’s trunk, “This branch isn’t going to hold you both. Come back this way Kalia.”

Lo’ak, as usual, held a conflicting opinion, “Aww man, don’t worry bro, yes it will. It’s a little bendy, that’s all.”

You looked between the two brothers who both had one hand stretched out to you now as you stood in the middle. Neteyam was shaking his head in a reiteration of his point, his golden eyes fierce, impelling you to return to safety. Lo’ak’s expression was nonchalant, his eyebrows raised awaiting your approach.

In the end it was Lo’ak’s next words that sealed the deal, “Come on, Kalia, don’t be a wuss.”

You never backed down from a challenge, especially not from Lo’ak. You were not a wuss and so you turned towards him and took the several steps required the rest of the way to grasp his hand.

The branch pitched downward with a little wobble under your combined weight, but it held.

A triumphant ululation trilled from Lo’ak and he laughed, “See? I told you it’d be fine.”

You breathed out a quiet ‘wow’ as the new vantage point afforded you a clear and unimpeded view of the entire waterfall in all its phantastic glory, just as Lo’ak had said. However the branch you were on was not wide enough for both of you stand side by side, and it was a little awkward peering from around his shoulder.

Seeing your position, Lo’ak looked up at the branch above him and he grinned at you, “Here, I’ll hop out of the way so you can see better.”

The next few moments passed in a sluggish blur for you, almost as if time had slowed to a snail’s pace. The last thing you heard was Neteyam’s panicked cry of, “Lo’ak, no!”, before Lo’ak sprang upward from in front of you, reaching for the branch above to pull himself up and out of the way.

The sickening crunch of wood splintering followed as the force of Lo’ak’s well-meaning spring shattered the weight limits of the branch beneath you. Abruptly, your feet were no longer grounded as you saw the broken branch fall away. Gravity sank its sharp talons into you and then you were plummeting too towards the majestic but treacherous waters that lay in wait below.

The last thing you felt was your breath tearing from your squeezing lungs and forcing its way up your throat in a choking scream.

~~ Neteyam’s POV ~~

The piercing sound of your terrified scream echoed through the woods and Neteyam watched, petrified, as your frame was swallowed by the thunderous falls.

“Fuck, KALIA!” Lo’ak’s own screech was hoarse as he pulled himself up all the way onto the branch above. He appeared a hair’s breadth away from diving in after you when Neteyam stopped him.

He was not about to let his brother risk his own life any further, but Neteyam held no such reservations about himself, “No, Lo’ak! Stay here, you skxawng! Call for help if we don’t surface!”

It was a perilous endeavour, but what choice did he have? There was no time to waste thinking. You were down there and he needed to get to you. With his heart galloping in his chest and his heart whispering prayer after prayer to Eywa to keep you alive, Neteyam leapt from the broken stump of a branch and into the raging falls after you.

Tucking his head as his body speared into a downward dive, Neteyam felt the force of thundering water hit him before he was submerged under the surface. All around him were roiling bubbles and scattering trout as they endeavoured to avoid the foreign creature that had just invaded their environment. There was no sense of direction; he had no idea which way was up and which way was down. Neteyam felt trapped in the never-ending churn of the water, but he reached and pulled against the water with his arms and kicked out with his legs nevertheless.

Neteyam’s sole concern was you. Great Mother, he had promised to keep you safe…

You had only been allowed to go out tonight because you were under his watch; you had been entrusted into his care. His thoughts were frantic… Please Eywa, help me… help her! Help me reach her!

Neteyam realised the trout around him were upright and swimming in the same direction, which was a good sign. It meant he was the right way up. Having regained his sense of direction, he doubled down on his focus. He could not see any sign of you beneath the water, though it was difficult looking through shoals of trout. Reaching the river’s bottom, Neteyam kicked off it and propelled himself towards the surface for a breath of air.

Breaching the surface, Neteyam’s head spun around looking for you. Nothing. He dove under again, continuing his search. All he could see was trout and his chest was tight with frustration and desperation. Please, Great Mother, please!

Something small and black drifted past his eyeline in a furry tuft amidst the writhing bodies of trout... Your tail! It was the tuft of your tail! With renewed vigour, Neteyam swam towards it with all his might, his hands reaching out until he could grasp it. The trout parted as he pulled your unmoving form towards him. His emotions were a contradiction in that moment. He was relieved that he had found you, but alarmed to see that you were unconscious.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, Neteyam kicked his legs, hauling you up to the surface.

Neteyam jostled your body roughly in an attempt to wake you when your face broke the waterline. He coughed, his frenetic words leaving him in wet gurgles as he cried out, “Kalia, wake up! Can you hear me? Breathe! Kalia!” You remained unresponsive; your chest unmoving as you drew no breaths.

The water was calmer here now as he floated downstream with you. Turning onto his back to keep you atop him, he frog-kicked towards the riverbank and thanked Eywa when he could finally touch the riverbed with his feet. Swimming back far enough until it was shallow enough for him to stand, Neteyam righted you in his arms, hooking one arm under your knees and the other around your shoulders so he could carry you ashore.

Delicately positioning you on your back on the muddy bank, Neteyam’s fingers flew to the crook of your neck where it met your jaw, probing desperately for a pulse. Nothing. Pure, undiluted panic shot through him. Placing his hands on your chest like he had been taught, he knelt alongside you and started chest compressions.

“Come on, Kalia!” Neteyam urged, “Come back to me, paskalin!”

Thirty compressions later, he pinched your nose, tilted your head back and sealed his mouth over yours. He gave you two breaths, feeling your chest rise slightly with each one. He checked again for a pulse.

Still nothing.

With a wild curse, Neteyam restarted chest compressions. He knew this was your only chance at survival and yet he was so afraid that he would break your sternum with the force of his compressions. Sixteen or seventeen compressions in, your shoulders and chest punched outward and your body gave a violent wretch. River water spewed from your mouth and you took a ragged but blessed breath in. A fit of wet coughs wracked you as your body ejected some more of the water from your saturated lungs.

A startled cry of relief left Neteyam and he propped you upright in his arms, pressing a kiss into the crown of your head, “Thank you, Great Mother! Keep breathing, paskalin. That’s it! That’s good.”

He cupped your cheek, forcing your gaze to focus on him. Your eyes were wild with disorientation and fear, and Neteyam clutched you to his chest as you began to cry bitterly. The sound of your crying was heart-wrenching, but it was welcome proof to him that you were alive.

Your drenched body quaked in his arms from the chill of the river water and Neteyam let out several trills and ululations, calling for his ikran. He needed to get you back to his grandmother. Quickly.

***~~~***

~~ Neteyam’s POV ~~

To say that Neteyam was angry with Lo’ak was a vast understatement. He was absolutely livid with his brother.

He and Lo’ak had fought countless times in their lives. It was the way of things when you grew up as brothers whose personalities were at such odds with each other. Countless disagreements and countless rebukes, but Neteyam had always been eloquent, even in his ire. He had always known how to scold Lo’ak; had always known what words to use to chastise him. But tonight had clearly been one step too far.

Tonight, Neteyam knew he was beyond angry because for the first time in their lives, he had no words. He had been silent ever since he had returned to kelutral with you in his arms several hours ago.

Lo’ak had taken full responsibility and had owned up to his reckless behaviour. Both their own family and yours had been horrified by the events of the evening as he had recounted the truth to them. Lo’ak’s immense contrition had manifested itself all night as repeated apologies to whoever would listen.

His grandmother had thoroughly checked you over when he had arrived home with you. You had sustained several shallow gashes to the skin of your back where you must have hit the rocks at the bottom of the waterfall. You had aspirated river water and there would still be excess fluid in your lungs despite you having coughed most of it up. Mo’at had prescribed bedrest and careful monitoring of you for the next several days in hope that you would not develop a lung infection.

It was astonishing how the axis of Neteyam’s entire world had shifted in the space of one evening. He had vowed to himself a few moons ago that he would find a way to stop his growing feelings for you. He had done this partially out of respect for your close friendship with Lo’ak and also because he was convinced you did not see him the same way.

But he had nearly lost you tonight. And there was nothing in life that gave a person quite the same clarity of perspective than the threat of imminent death.

So what, if you were his baby brother’s best friend? Tonight had taught Neteyam that life was too short not to go after what he wanted.

Neteyam kept silent vigil in the healers’ hut where you were now asleep again. He had not left your side so far. Part of him needed to see you, to hear you breathing to assuage the deep-seated apprehension in his soul that you might somehow stop breathing again. And what if no one was there to notice?

Out of the corner of his eye, Neteyam saw Lo’ak get up from his spot a little further away to come and sit by him again. Neteyam ground his jaw together so hard that his teeth started to hurt.

“Say something, bro.” Lo’ak pressed softly, keeping his voice down so as not to wake you.

Neteyam’s nostrils flared and he pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes in vexation, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. You’ve said that a billion times already.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. Say you forgive me now, please? You were right, OK? That branch didn’t hold.”

Neteyam’s gaze had been alternating only between your prone form and his clasped hands in his lap up until now, but he turned incredulous eyes at his brother then. He gave a quiet scoff of disbelief, “By Eywa, that’s what you’re sorry for? For not listening to me? You think that I want you to apologise to me because you didn’t believe that I was right? Fuck, you don’t get it at all, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak blinked several times and his brows knitted in a confused furrow, “What? I’ve already apologised. I don’t know what more you want from me.”

Neteyam’s nose wrinkled in a silent snarl at his brother, “This is your fault. It’s always your fault because your apologies are never backed up with a change of behaviour.”

“I know, bro. I promise I’ll listen to you from now on.”

“No! That’s not it!” Neteyam’s hiss was quiet but no less vehement, “It’s not about me being right or you not listening to me. It’s about you recognising that you need to think before you rush headlong into your fun and games! I won’t always be there to protect her!”

He saw Lo’ak’s eyes flick to your sleeping form and saw the recognition dawn on his brother’s face. Lo’ak had caught the inflection in his last sentence, “Oh, so this is just about Kalia, is it? You’d be fine if it was me that nearly drowned tonight instead?”

 Neteyam growled a warning, “Don’t be unkind. This is about both of you.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Lo’ak said casually, but Neteyam could sense his brother’s rising temper, could see it in the impatient flick of his tail, “In general, you’re concerned about the both of us, but right now tonight, this anger of yours, it’s all about her.”

“Of course! She died tonight, Lo’ak! She was dead when I pulled her from the river! We’re lucky I managed to resuscitate her!” Neteyam snarled, his ears pinned and his own tail lashing behind him, “You put her in danger. You have done so, so many times with your recklessness! So help me Eywa, if you can’t comprehend in your thick skull that you need to grow up and consider your own safety, then leave Kalia out of it, at least.”

Lo’ak’s lips curled in a derisive snarl of his own, “You can’t have her, bro. I won’t let you.”

Neteyam clenched his jaw. This was not the direction he had wanted this conversation to go in, but at the same time, it was a conversation that had been stewing in the background for moons now. His brother seemed all too eager to jump on this train of thought, full steam ahead.

Lo’ak continued, “She’s my best friend. I see the way you look at her, Neteyam. You want her for yourself.”

Neteyam knew he had to tread carefully here and choose his words wisely. It was both dishonest and futile to deny his attraction to you now, but he did not want it to come at the cost of your friendship with Lo’ak. Swallowing tightly, he began in a measured tone, “I don’t want to take her away from you. I just want her to be safe. I want you to be safe so that she is safe with you. You’re not good for her if you won’t change your behaviour.”

Lo’ak was shaking his head now, his breaths puffing heavily from his nostrils as he got more and more agitated, “How about you stay away from her, bro. She’s my friend.”

“This doesn’t have to be a you or me situation.”  Neteyam reasoned, “My interest in her and your friendship are not mutually exclusive things.”

“No, you can’t have her!” The words were spat from Lo’ak in a vicious growl, louder now than before.

“That isn’t your choice or mine, Lo’ak! It’s hers! But I have every right to express my wish to court her!”

“STAY. AWAY. FROM HER!”

“You don’t have any right to demand that!”

“Stop fighting.” The voice was feminine croak and Neteyam startled, his head spinning back to look at you. His brother’s head had swivelled around just as swiftly and he was sure he heard the vertebrae in Lo’ak’s neck pop.

~~ Your POV ~~

It had been the most impressive quiet argument that you had ever heard, if you were honest. The brothers had done well maintaining a hushed volume up until the last few moments. You figured it was time to intervene since the conversation was getting out of hand and it was also especially imprudent for you to be eavesdropping on a conversation about, well, you.

Your throat felt scratchy and your lungs felt sore, but you were fairly clear-headed otherwise.

“Shit, Kalia, sorry we woke you.” Lo’ak was by your side in a flash and one of his hands curled around yours, “Fuck, I’m so sorry about tonight. I really am.”

His tone was remorseful and you knew he felt awful. Lo’ak was careless but he was not callous by any means. He cared greatly for you despite him unintentionally contradicting that fact at times with his reckless behaviour.

Lo’ak’s eyes appeared a little watery in the flickering firelight of the hut and you reached out to pat his cheek kindly, “Hush, I know. I’m OK now. We live and we learn, yes?” He nodded mutely.

You saw Neteyam’s face swim into view beside Lo’ak’s and your heart gave a squeeze. An assortment of thoughts and emotions eddied around in your mind at the sight of his handsome face; gratitude, affection, remnants of your fright from earlier in the evening, and a kittenish shyness at what you had heard him say just moments ago.

Looking back to Lo’ak, you took the hand that was holding yours and kissed the back of it, “You know you’ll always be my best buddy, right? Nothing will change that. Ever.” You saw the slight pout of Lo’ak’s lips lift in a grin. You needed to speak to Neteyam though, alone, to thank him for rescuing you. Mostly to thank him, but you wanted to address a few other things too…

You cleared the scratch in your throat and shot Lo’ak a reassuring smile, “I’ll catch you in a bit, yeah? Could you give your brother and I some time? I’d like to speak to him.”

You had to fight the urge to giggle because when you saw Lo’ak’s grin pucker into an unimpressed moue. He looked from you to his brother and then back again and drawled sarcastically, “Yeah sure, I see how it is. You’ll be my best friend in the daytimes and then you’ll go and suck face with my brother in the evenings.”

Both you and Neteyam hissed Lo’ak’s name in shocked unison as he got up to give you both some privacy. He called over his shoulder as he disappeared out the draping flaps of the healers’ hut, “Don’t do anything gross in there kids, I’m just outside.”

Neteyam emitted an irritated huff and he rolled his eyes. His cheeks were purpling ever so slightly and you giggled, your own cheeks heating in response. You sat in silence for a few moments, neither of you really knowing what to say or how to begin.

You looked at Neteyam in the lambent glow of the firelight. He was looking intently at his folded hands in his lap and a frown wrinkled his forehead. He looked a little upset and you realised then that while it had been you who had fallen, gotten injured and had to be resuscitated, it was Neteyam who had had to live the waking nightmare of all those moments.

You extended the fingertips of your left hand and you stroked them gently against the back of his clasped hands, “Hey, thanks for saving me. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.”

“You weren’t here for a little bit.” The words were a broken mumble from Neteyam, who turned one of his palms out to twine his fingers with yours. He looked defeated.

“I’m here now and that’s what matters.”

His fingertips were warm against your cold ones and you instinctively sought out more of his warmth, sliding your palm forward to seat it fully against his. You felt his fingers wrap around your palm in return and the motion sent a thrill through you.

Neteyam took a shaky inhale and his exhale punched out of him in a defeated sigh, he shook his head gravely, “Fuck, Kalia you scared me today. You were gone. I had to fight to bring you back and-” He stopped suddenly and his eyes reluctantly fixed themselves on the dark purple bruising where the top of your chest was peeking out from the woven blanket Mo’at had wrapped around you.

“It doesn’t hurt much.” You supplied, “You did what you had to and I’m so grateful. I was stupid today too. It wasn’t just Lo’ak who didn’t listen. You told me not to go out onto the branch. I’m sorry too. I should’ve known better.”

He pursed his lips at you then, clearly agreeing with your sentiment, “Look, I’m not going to try and stop you and Lo’ak from hanging out, but you both need to be more careful. Think about what you’re doing, assess the situation. I don’t want to have to give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation ever again.”

“Not the kind of mouth-to-mouth you’d like to give me?” Perhaps it was the heady mix of tonic that Mo’at had given you as pain-relief. Or maybe it was the fact that you had overheard Neteyam admit to being attracted to you that emboldened you, but the quip was out of mouth before you could stop it.

Neteyam’s mouth popped ajar at your remark and he spluttered, “I-It wasn’t exactly a kiss.”

Your tittered even harder at his reaction and you countered with another quip, “No, I’d like to be alive when that one happens.”

He continued to gawp at you and you nibbled on your bottom lip bashfully. Eywa, you’d been crushing on Neteyam for a couple of years now, and to hear him say that he would like to court you was a girlish dream come true. You squeezed his hand promisingly and he chuckled.

He licked his lips and his eyes fell to his lap again. He shifted his other hand to join your already clasped ones and rested it over yours. Your hand was cradled between both of his now and the blazing heat of skin was electrifying. He lifted his eyes then to meet your gaze and admitted, “I didn’t think you felt that way about me.”

“And I thought you didn’t see me as anything more than your little brother’s annoying friend!” You exclaimed with a laugh, “By Eywa, I’ve been cooking you things and bringing them to you personally for so long now. I was convinced you just thought me a pest.”

Neteyam frowned and cocked his head at you, “I thought those were bribes and ‘thank you’ treats for keeping an eye on you and Lo’ak.”

“Well, they were, but it’s because I didn’t want you to stop coming.”

He smiled at you then, one of his beautiful, bright smiles that made you feel all warm and tingly inside. He brought your knuckles up to his face and pressed a kiss to them, and the soft velvet brush of his lips made your stomach quiver and your toes curl. He murmured, “So you’ll allow me to court you?”

You beamed at him with a nod and you wondered if he could see the happy stars bursting in the depths of your green eyes. A stupid part of you was a little disappointed that the first time his lips had touched yours you had not been conscious. It had not been a kiss, but still.

You wanted a kiss now and you never backed away from an opportunity to get what you wanted, “Kiss me, Neteyam, please?”

A corner of his lips quirked upward and his chin tilted down again, his eyes never leaving yours. You recognised that look. It was the same keen expression he had worn earlier that evening after he had caught you staring at him instead of the trout. Great Mother, that expression sent delightful shivers through you.

You saw him lean down towards you slowly, bracing his weight on his palms on either side of your head, and he smirked, “Lo’ak is going to be so annoyed.”

“Lo’ak knows. He’s known about my feelings for you for a while now. He’s just going to have to share.” You whispered, your heartrate quickening and your breath puffing in smaller pants of anticipation as Neteyam’s face neared yours. A husky chortle rumbled by your ear and you gave a small gasp as his hot breath tickled the side of your face.

Neteyam purred his response, “Well as long as I don’t have to share this-” He pressed a slow kiss to your right cheek, “Or this-” Another unhurried press of his lips to your left cheek, “And especially not this-” His smooth lips enveloped yours in a chaste, but lingering press, “Then I’m fine sharing. Happy birthday, Kalia.”

Bright and unbridled delight rushed through you in a series of flutters and flurries in your chest and in your stomach. You had almost forgotten. The darkest part of eclipse had come and gone. It was your birthday today. Your first kiss with Neteyam was without a doubt, the best birthday present ever. Neteyam was grinning smugly down at you and you reached up to loop your arms around his neck, pulling him down towards you again for another deliciously plush and moist meld of your lips.

It was a little uncoordinated and a little bit messy as the two of you continued your curious exploration of each other’s mouths. After all, you were both new to each other like this. However, the experience was no less stimulating. You had plenty of time to practise and get better, you mused.

Evidently Lo’ak had chosen the wrong time to peek through the gap in the hut’s entry flaps, and you and Neteyam broke away from each other laughing when his indignant voice sounded from outside.

“Eww, yuck! I SAID NO GROSS STUFF!”

***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

Author's Note: Ya'll this took on a life of its own, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoyed this little rollercoaster of drama! I'd love to hear your thoughts & reactions. Reblogs are so very much appreciated. Share this piece if you loved it! 🥰Thanks for reading!

[aaron-m-geist-ff]

Yo can I get a match up? He/him and Aries 😈 nsfw is fine, hope ur day is going well

Omg of course! It has been so long since I have written M/M. Plus, I love Aries! My day is going very well, hope yours is too 😄

For everyone else reading this, shoot me an ask with your zodiac sign and I will give you a JJK man with headcanon.

_______________________________________________

You got…🥁🥁🥁

Toji Fushiguro!

“Are you even into guys?” You asked. You never would have guessed that Toji would be attracted to men. He always seemed like a bit of a womanizer to you. Though, you would be lying if you said that you didn’t have a crush on him.

Toji shrugged, a grin on his lips.

“Not really. But you have a nice ass and that’s all I care about.”

He has only ever dated women before, so he would probably buy you flowers. If you don’t like that sort of thing, then he would keep that in mind and ask for some other courting ideas. Toji would be a little clueless at first but he would try to get used to dating a man. He would find you very attractive and settle on his new bisexual identity very easily. Toji never cared much for labels. If he sees a cute, pretty person then he will want to fuck them. It’s as simple as that.

Toji would literally be obsessed with your ass. If you’re cuddling together on the couch, he will 100% grope you. It doesn’t even have to be in a sexual way. He just likes to be possessive and touch what belongs to him. Toji would also enjoy the size difference between the two of you. He would definitely tease you for your smaller dick, just because he knows that it makes you flustered.

“Look at it,” Toji teased. He held your throbbing erection in his huge hand, running his thumb over the sensitive tip.

“It’s so small. You could never fuck anyone with this.”

Even if you have an average size, Toji would still say all that. He just loves to be an arrogant bastard. His big dick has given him way too much confidence and an unshakeable ego.

“Aw. Are you blushing for me, boy?”

Toji would do anything to make you get all shy and flustered. He loves your submissive side. He is strictly dominant in bed, never wants to relinquish any control. Not that you would complain ;)

Toji would love fucking you in all sorts of positions. But his favorite would likely be bending you over the arm of the couch and fucking you from behind. He’s a bit sadistic and would probably enjoy the fact that you wouldn’t be able to touch yourself from that angle. 😳

Read more Toji here

[wondermilka]

Parallel Lines

Pairing: Kaedehara Kazuha x FEM! reader

Sypnosis : You have harbored romantic feelings for your childhood friend Kazuha, even though you know he has feelings for someone else. Despite that, you wanted to confess your love to him. However, an unexpected twist arises when you start experiencing a strange disease, coughing up flower petals.

TW: Hanahaki Disease, angst, unrequited love, rushed ending, not proof read, reader dies(?)

You and Kazuha were inseparable. He was your only best friend, you have known eachother since you were in your diapers. He's the only one who's ever seen real side of you and never judged you for being you.

Your parents trusted him enough to come over and have sleepovers. Hanging out with Kazuha? Sure. Going swimming? No problem. Going to a party? Don't even need to ask as long as Kazuha was with you.

You've had a huge crush on him. You didn't realize it until back on middle school when he comforted you while you were crying because you got bullied.

He was always there for you. He'd be the one to make you laugh when you were crying. He'd be there to cheer you up when life's not going well. He was always there.

You always thought it would be just a harmless crush, not until a new girl came to your school. You saw kazuha's eyes when he first saw her. You never saw those of his whenever you were together.

"What's with that face zuha?" you ask.

"Oh, it's nothing.. There's just this one girl who's been constantly on my mind ever since I saw her," he replied.

His eyes softened and glimmered while he was talking about this girl.

A pain struck your chest, and you felt like you were going to throw up.

"Hmm, let me guess, is it the new girl? I forgot her name though..."

His face turned red as you mentioned the new girl, making it obvious.

"I- Ugh Fine! Yes it's her- just don't tell anyone okay?!" he confessed stuttering.

"Your secret's safe with me" you gave him a playful wink

"Thanks Y/N. You're the best friend ever."

Right. I'm just a friend to him.

Weeks went by and he gained up the courage to approach her. And it went well, he had built up a relationship with the new girl, it hurt to see them together.

You sat alone during lunch, wondering whefe Kazuha is. Of course he was sitting and having lunch with her.

You had no one to talk to during class because his attention was always on her.

How pathetic it was to see yourself like this.

Now you find yourself in the bathroom, experiencing stomach aches and constantly throwing up for weeks. You're well aware that it's the Hanahaki Disease, considering the petals of flowers that accompany your vomiting.

You love Kazuha, but you know you must suppress your feelings for him, or else it will be the cause of your demise.

Were you truly going to die in such a manner?

Another plan canceled with Kazuha. He's prioritizing her over you.

You understand that it's best to keep your distance from him in case he starts noticing your declining health.

You've been avoiding him at school, always attempting to come up with excuses to escape. In fact, you even avoid sitting at the dinner table whenever his family visits, just to avoid seeing him.

"Y/N. We need to talk."

There's no running away now. He has you cornered inside the classroom.

"I'm sorry, Kazuha. I really need to leave."

"Enough with your excuses. Why are you avoiding me, Y/N?"

He can't deny that he has been noticing the way you have been acting; Everytime he glanced at you, you were coughing.

The dark circles beneath your eyes suggest that you haven't been sleeping well. You have also lost weight. Have you not been eating properly?

You remained silent as the silence enveloped both of you, making it unbearable.

The atmosphere felt heavy and... cold. "Y/N, please talk to me. I'm worried about you."

"There is nothing to discuss, Kazuha." Your voice had a serious and chilly tone, yet the pain and cracks was not left unnoticed.

"I know you're not fine. Please, Y/N... Don't push me away. I have always been there for you, haven't I?"

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to suppress silent sobs.

"I'm inlove with you, okay?!?"

His eyes widened.

"And I understand that you only consider me as your friend, so it doesn't matte-..."

Before you could finish speaking, your legs gave way, and you collapsed to the ground.

Your breathing became constricted. It was painful.

Petals and blood began to escape as you coughed uncontrollably.

"Y/N! Are you alright?" Shock formed in his eyes as he recognized the petals. It was Hanahaki Disease. He was the cause of your illness.

On the verge of losing consciousness, Kazuha swiftly held you in his arms.

"Y/N, please don't leave me!" he shouts while tears stream down his face.

As you fade away, the last sound you heard was his desperate plea for you to stay conscious, accompanied by the comforting sensation of his embrace.

A/N : First post. Thoughts? : )

Similar to parallel lines, our paths were destined to be close but never to intersect.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

How do I talk to a fourth grader about sex Ed? Are there books or an online resource for parents you recommend?

hi there, thank you for asking!

the book that I use to teach OWL classes is Robie Harris' It's Perfectly Normal; I strongly recommend getting ahold of the revised & updated edition from 2021, which is more inclusive and queer-friendly, but even the older edition is a pretty good starting place.

it can be a great way to start the conversation if the fourth grader in question hasn't approached you with their own questions about sex and bodies, which can be daunting for a lot of kids, especially if that hasn't historically been the vibe when you interact! they may not know a lot at that point, but most kids have definitely absorbed that sex is something that they're not supposed to talk about.

if they're feeling up to having a chat beyond the basics (anatomy, reproduction 101, changes that come with puberty, squiggly crush feelings, consent and no means no, etc), that's awesome! I find most kids in the 4th-6th grade range already have a lot more information about sex than most people expect; they just have it jumbled up and out of order and lack the tools to make sense of it. ie, I've had students who know about periods but are under the impression that they come out of the butt, understand that a baby grows inside of a person but have no clue how it gets out, and make jokes about someone getting ejaculated on because they know it's Inappropriate and therefore funny but don't actually have any idea what ejaculation actually is or why it happens.

so, you know. much to work on there!

honestly I think the #1 most important thing for any adult trying to be a good ally and educator to young people is to kill the urge to cringe literally ever at all about anything, because the second you make a kid feel weird for asking a question is the second they start hesitating to confide in you with their questions. I've had to poker face kids asking me why someone would ever put someone else's penis in their mouth, what a harem is, and kids very earnestly describing their first wet dreams without having any idea that they were describing wet dreams. there cannot be any "no," it's "yes, and" from here on it. "yes that sounds weird to you, and it's completely fine to do that with people you trust if and when you feel ready to have sex" has got to be the constant refrain. be as rigorously open-minded and non-judgmental as possible establishes that you are a safe person to talk to honestly, and encourages your kiddo to be similarly curious and accepting.

if you ever find yourself really flustered by a question, or you genuinely don't have an answer, it's okay to pull a "I don't know! let me find out more information and get back to you." (also great behavior to model for kids, btw.) if you're ever stumped trying to figure out how to break something down into 4th grader-sized chunks, I recommend Scarleteen as a starting place - it's a sex ed forum run by volunteers for teens, some of them pretty young, so the answers are written very accessibly.

easing into the topic by discussing things like feelings and puberty can be a great way to ease in. have they talked about puberty at school? are their friends having any bodily changes? how do people talk about bodies? do kids get made fun of for developing breasts or growing body hair? does anyone at school date? how does the kid you're talking with feel about all of that? I might just be blessed with unusually gossipy kids, but they LOVE dishing about how other kids act. I learn so so much about my students by asking them to tell me how their peers behave at school; they love to narc.

also: it can be a huge bummer if YOU were really ready to rumble being sex positive and a source of info, but sometimes kids just aren't ready to engage with that. I've know 4th graders who are extremely at eases talking about the ins and outs of vaginal anatomy and 6th graders who would rather run away than even acknowledge genitals exist; there's no predicting when anyone will be comfortable with this. to a certain degree you might need to encourage a kid through initial awkwardness, but if they're reaching a point of serious distress and discomfort we've got to let it go. unfortunately I've taught kids who reacted to their parents' enthusiasm for sex positivity by wilting in exactly the opposite direction, getting anxious and confrontational whenever the topic came up. the majority of kids will become curious in their own time, especially as puberty and sexuality becomes more pressing to them and their peers, and sometimes the best thing you can do is leave that door open for them to return to in their own time.

also, hey! if you're ever really really stuck, I'm here on tumblr dot com :) I'm by now means an expert, but I've taught a LOT of fourth graders what a condom is.

[echobx]

not my type 4 - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader

summary: y/n has to go work in the OBX a yearafter she last saw Rafe and things take their turns...

warnings: fluff, smut (p in v (unprotected))

word count: 2.5k

author's note: I'm not a fan of what I did here and I wouldn't even feel bad if y'all hated me for it bc it's just shit in my eyes, but I also don't have the capacity to change it or write it anew but I also didn't wanna leave it unfinished. that's all.

part 1 part 2 part 3

You don't want to move to the OBX, but it's what your father expects of you and it's a promotion. You'll be in charge of the division, hiring new brokers, taking care of business. It’s a huge step forward from all the number pushing you had to do the last year since Florida was opened.  But, just like you predicted, it had been worth it, and now you're supposed to actually bring in good numbers from the island strip.  And on top of that, you are sure that you're over him. A whole year is a long time after all. 

“And the beach is just gorgeous,” you tell your friend Parker, who helped you move. You're both standing in the new office building, looking out of a window, not noticing Rafe's approaching behind you.  “That wholly depends on what side of the island you're on,” Rafe comments, and you turn around to look at him. His polo shirt hugs his muscles perfectly and the shorts sit a bit low. It's in stark contrast to the very formal rosé colored suit you're wearing.  But the worst part of it is that your heart starts fluttering just a little when his blue eyes rake over you.  “We'll find out soon enough,” you hit him back and take Parker's hand, intertwining your fingers, and to your own luck he just goes with it. You had been friends for too long for him to question your moves, and he also knew way too much about what had happened between Rafe and you.  “Good,” Rafe smiles and turns to walk into his office.  “Okay, y/n/n, I get it, but you're also crushing my hand,” Parker laughs lightly, and you let go of him.  “I'm gonna be so okay. Yes. I'll just be okay. Right?” you tell yourself and walk into your office to set it up. 

When you go out for lunch, Rafe simply joins you uninvited. You focus on Parker, on pretending that you're with him, not just because you have to keep your mind from slipping to Rafe. But mostly because you want to know if he's going to be jealous.  And from the way his jaw clenches when you kiss Parker's cheek, it seems to be working. 

However, it's only working for a week, because your friend has to go back home and the moment he's gone you jump headfirst into work. If you won't let your mind rest, it can't think of Rafe. That's your strategy.  It's a flawed one though, because after three weeks of excessive paperwork and hiring new staff, you find your desk empty, nothing left to do. At least not enough to keep you occupied for more than a few hours each day. 

“There's an issue with the Campbell property,” Rafe says while walking into your office, not having knocked. “I thought you might want to look at it before I make a decision.” He hands you the papers, and you look over it, but you can't find any mistakes on it.  “And what's your verdict?” you ask, hoping that it'll help you figure out what might be wrong, because even after reading the notes a third time, you still can't find the problem.  “You work too much,” he shrugs and you drop the paper.  “What?”  “Nothing. It's a numbers issue, see,” Rafe points at the yard size. “They say it's 0.7 acres, but it's actually just below 0.6 acres.” “How do you know that?” “Because I've been to that house. Do you want to risk us getting sued?” he cocks his brow up and you sigh.  “I'll send Darryl to measure it out. Anything else?”  “Your boyfriend isn't around as much as I thought he'd be.” Rafe lets his fingers run over the glass of your desk, and you bite the inside of your cheek to not smile. The small glimpse of jealousy makes your heart skip a beat. It's stupid, really, because you don't know each other, you shouldn't feel like that for a guy you had slept with twice over a year ago. And yet, you still did.  “Parker has his work, and I have mine,” you smile politely.  “I see. Well, the Campbell thing,” Rafe notes before walking out again, and your heart is still pounding like crazy after the small interaction. 

You keep working, trying to keep your distance and he does the same. Only talking when it's really necessary to keep the office out of the reds.  You don't notice that he keeps eyeing you when you're not looking, that he makes sure that the kitchen is always stocked with your favorite snack. And you don't know that he notices how the small packets only ever go missing when you have a rough day or had an unplanned call from your father. And that you dress more so provocatively when you have a showing than when it's just an office day. Or how you strip off your heels when you sit at your desk for more than five minutes. He picks up on all of your little antics, and he doesn't even want to, he's over it just as much as you, but he can't help it either. 

And for the brokers open two months after your start in the OBX he makes sure that the caterer has a non-seafood option alongside the tiny lobster rolls and crab cakes. Because he knows you don't eat it, and he wants to get on your good side again, although he's aware that food won't be the way to do it. 

“Old fashioned?” Rafe holds the glass out for you, and you take it with a hushed “thank you.” “That's what you had the-”  “I remember,” you look up at him, his hair is cut back to a buzz cut, and you don't know if you like it as much. It does accentuate his features though, which isn't a bad thing at all. The sharp nose and high cheekbones, the crooked smile he always greets you with- No, you can't let yourself think of him again. It was hard enough as is, to survive living and working so close to him.  “You look good,” Rafe nods at you, and you don't know what to reply. The short black dress is showing off more than you intended to, but your best friend Claire convinced you to put it on anyway when you called her earlier that day.  “Uhm… thanks,” you mumble and let your eyes run over him, half buttoned shirt and suit pants. He hadn't dressed up at all and the fact that he didn't need to, and your heart was still racing, was speaking volumes. “You clean up nice too,” you tell him and look away again. 

You try mingling, networking a little and gossiping a little less. But when you overhear a broker from a different brokerage talk about Rafe you simply can't stop yourself. The words coming out of her mouth won't add up to the Rafe you know and try to hate.  She talks about dark escapades and less intriguing things but follows them up with a harsh comment on his person. Maybe she is jealous, you choose to believe that rather than what she keeps talking about. There's nothing less believable than all the atrocious things she mentions and yet when you look at yourself in the mirror of the restroom later that night, you think it doesn't matter. Everyone has a past after all.  “He's not like that anymore, right?” you ask yourself quietly after freshening up your lipstick. 

You see Rafe standing at the side, not wanting to talk to anyone, and you start to realize why. You start to understand why he never ate lunch in the kitchen with you or the team.  “Networking is part of the job,” you remind him while placing yourself next to him.  “Not with this folk,” he replies dryly.  “You shouldn't care what they say.” You look up at him and meet his gaze.  “I don't. Do you?”  “I don't think it's possible to do this job if you're not a stone-cold killer at heart.”  He flinches at your wording but he nods. “Are you?”  “Have to.”  “You don't though,” he seems almost sorry, but he turns away again, nipping on his drink.  “Didn't get a choice much,” you mumble absentmindedly. 

“Contradictory,” Rafe huffs a laugh.  “What?”  “You. It's contradictory. You saying you didn't get a choice after telling me you made the choice freely,” he looks at you again, eyes scanning your face.  “Didn’t think you'd remember,” you mutter and turn around, wanting nothing more than to vanish into thin air, but his hand shoots out to grasp your wrist.  “Don't go, please.”  “Why?” you turn around to look at him sternly. “I'm sorry, about all of it,” he apologizes, and let's go again.  “I'm over it,” you lie.  “You're really not,” he whispers and steps closer. “And it's my fault, all of it. I'm sorry, sugar.” 

“Are the stories true? The shit they talk about you behind your back?” you ask and he nods.  “Okay,” you say and he furrows his brows.  “You don't care?”  “Not really. I mean, that was then and now is now. I know the crazy shit people do when they're high,” you shrug, and he looks a bit confused. “And the daddy issues on top of that. I mean, I get it. We've both got our fair share of daddy issues, right?”  “Right,” Rafe drags out the word, he truly didn't expect you to not care about it at all. If anything, he thought you might run again, and the fact that you don't is confusing him.  “Do you wanna get out of here and get hammered?” you whisper, and a grin spreads on your face when he takes your hand and pulls you away. 

That's how you find yourself bent over your own desk, mind hazy and a moaning mess as he fucks you.  “Too much,” you cry but Rafe just laughs. “I know you can take it, baby.” And you know he's right, but you love to be told over and over again.  “You're so good to me. So tight, sugar.”  “Gonna cum,” you moan, and he stops, pulls out and makes you turn around.  “Sit up, pretty girl, and look at me.” You follow the order, sitting up and moving to the very edge of the table before he pulls your legs over his shoulders and enters you again. 

His hand presses down on your stomach and you groan. It's all too much, and he's making it worse, moving to press on your clit with his thumb before drawing harsh circles and your eyes roll back in response.  “Cum for me, baby,” he rasps into a kiss, biting down on your bottom lip when your orgasm rips through you, squeezing him so hard that he can't hold it in anymore and shoots his hot cum into your pulsating core. “Fuck, you're perfect. So hot. Missed you so much,” Rafe pants, still buried deep inside of you and not ready to actually let go.  “Forgot how big it was,” you whisper and feel him twitching inside you. It’s just a silly little note, but it's all he needed to get hard again and fuck you again, not caring about the mess you were making. 

“Bet he's not fucking you like that,” Rafe pants, and you don't know what he's talking about, but you let it slide, too focused on the pleasure he was giving you.  “Mine. All mine,” he rambled, lips attached to your neck, nipping at the skin and leaving a plethora of open-mouthed kisses on it.  “Yours, daddy. All yours,” you moan and hold onto him tighter, pressing yourself against him to try to force him into you deeper.  “Soak me, pretty,” he breathes against your lips, one hand holding your jaw, the other between your legs, rubbing your clit. And his blue eyes are barely visible as he stares into yours.  “Make me,” you hush but scream when he pinches your clit before rubbing it again.  “Don't be a brat, sugar. Come on. Soak daddy's dick,” he grins, drops of sweat running down his toned body, and you swear you'd lick him clean all over if he let you. And when his tongue once again entangles with yours, your eyes roll back and your legs tremble. Screaming at the high he managed to give you and far past it as he fucks you through it and empties his load into you for the second time. 

And the next few weeks you spend the same, pretending like nothing happened while letting him fuck you every single night. You don't want to talk about all the things that you should clearly talk about.  Like the fact that he still believes that you have a boyfriend up in New York, or that he keeps staying longer until he falls asleep next to you, and you don't have the heart to kick him out.  But you groan when you wake up and see him try to get ready as quietly as he can. 

“What are you doing?”  “Didn't mean to wake you, sugar,” Rafe apologizes and leans over you, placing a kiss on your lips.  “Don't go,” you whisper as he hovers over you. “I don't want you to go.”  “Are you sure?” he asks and you nod again. It takes him less than ten seconds to strip himself of his pants and jump back into bed. 

Your head is nuzzled into his neck while you hold onto him, somewhat scared that'll it's just a dream.  “I think you should break up with your boyfriend,” Rafe mumbles.  “Boyfriend?” you pull away with furrowed brows.  “Yeah. Not really fair to him. Not really fair to us,” he doesn't look at you as he says it.  “Us?” It's not that the term itself is confusing to you, but more so the fact that it's coming from him. That he's saying it so casually.  “Yeah. If you didn't have that Parker guy, I could actually take you out, show you off,” he whispers and finally lowers his eyes to see your awestruck face. “What?” 

“You want to date me?”  “I would yes. Is that hard to believe?”  “I'm me, and you're… you,” you answer, but he just kisses you, hoping to smother all your doubts with it. 

“Rafe?” you whisper and he nods. “Parker isn't my boyfriend, I just wanted to make you jealous,” you admit with a whisper and to your surprise he starts laughing. “What's so funny?”  “I didn't even think of that,” he laughs and starts plastering you in kisses. “So smart. So perfect. So pretty,” he says in between kisses.  “Do you really think so?” you ask, and he nods repeatedly, a smile playing on his lips.  “You're so beautiful, y/n.”  “Okay,” you blush and try to hide under the sheets, but he pulls them down to kiss you again and again, and you don't think he'd ever want to stop, and you wouldn't tell him to either. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @drwstarkeyy @notdxbya @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @julczimozart

[rae-pottah]

I Just Stood There.

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Rossi's daughter! reader

Y/n = your name

L/n = your last name

Warnings: she/her pronouns, shitty writing?,fluff.

Summary: after embarrassing herself in front of her crush, Y/n rants to Penelope, bad idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Y/n's POV*

Hanging out with my dad's coworkers was fun. Except when it came to my tiny little small incy weenie crush on Dr. Spencer Reid... And I think everyone knows...

⏪⏪⏪⏪⏪

Meeting the BAU team was a blast! I had been coming by to see my dad, seeing as how we don't spend much time together anymore.

First I bumped into SSA Derek Morgan, and Tech nerd Penelope Garcia:

"He-llo, momma!" said Morgan

"Don't scare her away already hot stuff!" Penelope hit his arm "Hi honey bunches, I'm Penelope, this is Derek, who are you? Are you a newbie?"

"Haha! No, I'm Y/n, I'm here to see my father!" I laugh, they looked confused

Next, SSA Jennifer Jareau (otherwise known as JJ) and SSA Emily Prentiss

"Who's this?" JJ asks Garcia

"This is Y/n, she's here to see her father!" Garcia tells her, confused. None of them letting me speak JJ asks

"Who's her father?" With a confused face as well

"Wh-" Garcia starts to ask me a question when my Father, and Uncle Aaron walked in

"UNCLE AARON!" I ran up to him and jump hugged him

I could see my dad off to the side holding his arms open with a playful confused/hurt look on his face, looking from side to side

"No hug for dear old dad, no sirey, just here for the money" he said sarcastically to no one

"Glad you know" I joked, and gave him a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek

"So I have lunch I was hoppiii-" I stuttered off as I watched a beautiful man, a genius, a fluffy haired, angelic, smart, kind man walk by me, his name

Doctor Spencer fuckin Reid

"Aaand she's gone" my dad said bringing me back to reality, now noticing everyone smiling at me, him not even noticing I'm here put his stuff down at his desk

"Wwwhat his papers are insanely good" I whispered looking at my shoes

"Well, I'd still like to know what the hell is going on?!" Morgan asks

"This is one of my daughters from my second marriage" he finishes the sentence with a kiss to my head

"Also I already knew your names, my father has prepared me well" I laughed

"Huh and I guess you know pretty boy?" Morgan asks with a smirk, still working at his desk (I'd have to meet him later) I nodded quickly with a blush

"I think she knows him more than she knows any of you, and she's actually met you guys now" my father answers, while everyone starts "oouu" -ing and laughing, I just blushed with my head down

⏩⏩⏩⏩⏩

I eventually met Spencer when everyone came to our house for a cook out, walking backward with a chair isn't a good idea when you can't see behind you.

"OUFF" hit a wall, wait... walls don't make noises

I put the chair down and turn around "OH MY GoD, Im So SorRy" my voice cracked as I spoke to the man in front of me "Are you okay?" I asked

"Haha yeah I'm fine, it was my fault anyway, I wasn't looking where I was going. You're Y/n right?" I instantly blushed

"y-yeah I am, Doctor Spencer Reid, if I'm not incorrect?"

"yes!" He smiled, absolutely beautiful. He helped me move the chair and we talked slightly, me stuttering the entire time.

⏭️⏭️⏭️⏭️⏭️

Again visiting my father at work, today was gonna be a good day.

I was getting ready to turn the corner to my fathers office when I ran into someone

"Sor- oh hi" it's like his ears were hurting, why do I have to run into you while I'm thinking about what a domesticated you would look like

"Hi, how are you?" He must have just woke up because his voice was deep as hell, and he had dark circles under his beautiful brown eyes

"-hi-" I couldn't think of anything else to say, I walked away quickly

"Hey can we go for lunch?" I asked my dad quickly

"Sorry kid, we got a case" disappointing but at least I can talk to Garcia alone (we've become good friends)

A while after they left:

I just walked straight into Garcia's office

"I SAID HI, TWICE" I said terrified

"Woah woah woah, what are we flipping out about" she looked very concerned

"I said hi twice! We bumped into each other and I said 'oh hi' and he said 'hi, how are you?' And I JUST SAID HI AGAIN?! WHY DOES HE HAVE TO REDUCE MY IQ TO 3?!"

"Wai- you mea-" I cut her off

"Spencer! Yes! Duh! Why does he have to be so hot and smart and adorable, I mean have you read his paper on quantum physics?! Only a perfect man could be that smart and THAT HOT!" I flopped on the couch in her bat cave

"Okay, baby doll, please don't be mad at me, I tried to tell you!" Only then did I look down to see the little red light being produced from the phone

"No."

"Yes." She said in a sorry voice

"Who are you on the phone with?" I asked nervously

"Oh! Actually hotch!"

"I'm not afraid to remove your knee caps Uncle Aaron." I said dangerously

"I'll help her hide the body!" Garcia shouted

"Ha.Ha. you want the bad news or good news?"

We stayed quiet

"Okay bad news is, the entire time Garcia's been on speaker, including the time that you ranted about boy genius, also bad news I'm sitting around everyone"

I could have cried until he said

"Good news is, is he can't stop smiling"

"EA" I let out a small yelp from Garcia nudging me and the information.

"You'll have to wait till we get back to ask her out, Rossi quit death staring him, you already knew, here's your fifty"

I ran out of the room and home, soon enough a couple days later there was a knock at my apartment door

[suguru-getos]

| unwind with me | itachi x reader |

a/n: i’m a sucker for domestic itachiiii <333 fluff and just, slice of life thingy goin’ on

living together with itachi had its perks. you didn’t have to worry about taking the trash out. you didn’t have to worry about a lot of little things which otherwise irritated you. take today for example: you have had a truly hectic week. meetings, appraisals, work politics, a certain bitch you hate and want to kill. everything was coming together hauntingly. so? saturday you didn’t do anything. being the epitome of a couch potato suits you sometimes. especially when those sometimes include your period.

today your eyes opened to an annoying nuisance. your period cramps again. itachi came to you, a huge mug of iced latte in his painted hands, nudging you tenderly and kissing your forehead. “good morning, you are up early today. yesterday you woke up at 11:45. look, it’s just 10:30” he winked, watching you roll your eyes at him. itachi had a subtle way of teasing you & you fairly understood that.

the coffee tasted immaculate. you had no words to express how tasty it was honestly. just the right amount of coldness, the kind that wakes you up soothingly. the perfect amount of chocolate & caramel. the perfect amount of crushed ice. you looked around the house & decided while sipping your morning drink, today you needed to be productive.

“m’ gonna open my laptop & then play games. after that m’ taking a shower and we’ll go out.” oh— itachi was ‘also’ your boyfriend. makes sense doesn’t it? why else would he treat you like a princess when he could’ve been labelled as king ‘aloof’.

“you will take a shower, work out a bit because it’s been 4 days you haven’t moved your body. i suggest pilates since you are still on your period. then, i will help you cook something for lunch. and further on; we will go out.” you always loved when itachi had his little planner instinct come out for you. there are times when you could really use that.

with that, the day was starting to go by with a slight haze. you had tasks lined up where you’d rather not think. give your mind a little rest by being in the backseat & let your boyfriend handle the itty bitty bits about that all. “speaking of, i need to get my nails done,” you sat on the kitchen counter, watching… or rather, gawking at your man chopping vegetables with such ease. “uh huh?” he looked rather indulged, the bun accentuated his features which would make van gogh bow.

he leaned in, gently placing himself between your legs and kissing your lips softly, hands freshly washed and scared to touch your supple skin. “i love you, angel,” itachi cooed, leaning his forehead against you. “i am so, so glad you depend on me you know that? because you don’t depend on anyone else & that’s what makes me strive so hard to be worthy of it,”

there he was, with his unadulterated words, piercing them deep inside your heart. your pupils shaked in sheer adoration, eyes glossing up. “m’ on my period dya wan’ me to fuckin’ cry?” you whined, leaning your head against his shoulder and hugging him.

he felt so warm, tenderly warm and caregiving that you often forgot that the world doesn’t know, or see this side of him. he’s ruthless to others, often labelled as cold. a twisted part of you likes it. you are exclusive to his love. you’d always be.

“alright now, i want you to eat, then how about,” itachi bit his lower lip, “we do some self care and i prepare us the cosiest haven for watching movies together,” you were introverted & your boyfriend reciprocates the same energy.

“deal!” you grinned, helping him prepare the rest of the ingredients.

little did you know that today was going to be even more special, it’s about time you were just his girlfriend. itachi has something rather too special to share with you tonight. 💍

[lcvesjj]

Hey dear 😊 would you maybe do an imagine with Connor Rhodes where you're a paramedic at fire station 51 and he's always happy when he sees you in the ER cause you both have a huge crush on each other, but he fears asking you on a date. Maggie notices this and works out a plan with your friends at Molly's to get you two together and it works ? Hope this is not a too weird request 🙊

Title : Plan - Connor Rhodes x Fem!Reader

Summary : After your friends notice, that you have a crush on a specific doctor (who also has a crush on you). They come up with a plan to finally get you two to date. 

Warnings : I don’t think there are any?

A/n : I love this idea!! Thank you for the lovely request Anon, and I hope this is what you had in mind! 😁 sorry for any mistakes I may have missed

You felt someone stare at you, while you were filling out the forms for the newest patient you had just brought in. Smiling softly to yourself you looked up and saw Connor leaning on a wall pretending to be looking over the tablet he had in hand. But actually he was staring at you.

Connor had the biggest crush on you, since he first saw you, the badass paramedic from Firehouse 51. Who would do anything to help someone. You were really kind and a smile rarely left your face. 

You walked over to him, after handing the filled out form to one of the nurses. “Are you okay Connor?” You asked in a worried tone. “You are looking a little red.” You added. 

“Yea, no I’m fine Y/n/n, just tired and I’m just feeling a little hot today.” He laughed a little awkwardly.

Before you could say anything else, your partner Shay who was also a paramedic with the 51. Yelled “Y/n! Come on, we have to go! So say goodbye to lover boy and let’s go!” Hearing her words you blushed and so did Connor. 

“I’m really sorry but I have to go. But I hope we can talk later at Mollys if you want to.”  You beamed at him. “Yes of course! So I guess I’ll see you after shift?” He asked nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Which was a telltale sign that he was nervous. You just nodded in response. “Stay safe Connor!” You yelled walking backwards and then turning around and sprinting out of the ER to where Shay was waiting for you by the entrance.

“Huh, lover boy? That’s new.” Maggie walked up to Connor with a smile. “You like her don’t you?” She asked. “Of course I do, she’s pretty awesome.” He smiled, looking over to where you had just left. She just smiled at the way the two of you have been dancing around your feelings for each other. You both were pretty oblivious to the way you both looked at each other.

“C’mon pretty boy, let's get to work now. You’ll see your girlfriend later.” Maggie said, nudging Connor softly. “She’s not my- And before he would finish his sentence the ER doors flew open with two paramedics pushing a gurney inside. Quickly getting back to work Connor snapped out of his daydreams about you. 

Meanwhile you and Shay were driving back to the firehouse. You groaned internally, knowing what your partner was about to say. “So you and Connor huh? He looked pretty happy to see you Y/n.” She said, looking over to you with a Cheshire Cat-like grin. “So me and Connor what?” You tried to act oblivious to what she meant, but you knew that she could read you like an open book. You had worked with each other for so long that you became really close friends. 

“Do you have a crush on Doctor Rhodes?” Shay asked innocently. You choked on the water you were drinking, coughing a little. “I don’t- You tried to say but she just looked over to you with a face and you just sighed. “Fine, I do have a crush on him. But he doesn’t feel the same and besides I don’t want to ruin our friendship.” You replied, looking over to her. “You really don’t see it? He likes you too! I mean have you seen the way he looks at you? He’s definitely in love with you.” Shay responded, nudging your arm slightly. “I just don’t want to ruin our friendship Shay, and I don’t want to lose another friend.” You replied softly, playing with the water bottle you were holding. You two drove the rest of the way in silence. 

After arriving back at the firehouse, you quickly got out from the ambulance and walked towards the bathrooms. Kelly looked at you with a confused face, you always had a smile on your face. But now you were frowning slightly. “Shay what happened?” He asked, looking over to her. “Kelly, I really need your help with something.” She responded, sitting down next to him. “Yea sure, what do you need help with?”

“We need to get Y/n and Connor to confess their feelings. Since they look at each other with hearts in their eyes, quite literally.” Kelly snorted at Shay’s words but after seeing her glare at him he just looked down, still smiling. “I thought I was the only one who saw that. But anyways, what's your plan?” He asked. “We need to find Maggie and ask her for her help and besides I have a plan.” Shay simply said. “Are you sure this will work?” “Positive.” She nodded. 

Soon shift was over and after quickly changing you headed over to Molly’s. Seeing Connor text you “Are we still meeting up at Molly’s?” And after replying you drove towards Molly’s. 

Sitting down at the bar you ordered a lemonade, since you were driving back home today. You thought about what happened today at Med. 

Was Shay right? 

Did Connor really like you the way you like him? 

You were so caught up in your thoughts, that you didn’t hear Connor sitting down next to you and ordering a beer. “How was your shift?” He asked, taking a sip from his beer. “It was alright, we didn’t get many calls so it was pretty calm.” You smiled, turning to look at him. 

And before you knew it was really late and you and Connor spent most of the evening talking and laughing and sharing funny stories with each other.

“Well I better get going. But it was nice talking to you Connor.” You smiled, getting up and gathering your stuff. He just nodded in response. “Here let me help.” Connor said, gently helping you put on your coat. After watching you walk away he smiled at himself.

The next day was also pretty calm, you spend most of your shift just talking with Shay or watching some show on the TV. 

Little did you know, your friends had made up a plan to get you and Connor to date. 

You looked up, noticing Will walk in.

“Hey Y/n, can I ask you for a favour?” He asked, walking in behind Severide. “Of course, is Connor alright?” You asked, getting up quickly. “Connor is alright, but I just wanted to ask if you wanted to go on a double date with me and Natalie? I’d like you to meet someone, since we both think you two would get along really well.” Will smiled at you and before you could even answer Shay walked up and said “Of course she will! Just send the address and time and I’ll make sure Y/n is there!” She smiled at you. Will nodded and after promising to send it via text, he walked out of the firehouse quickly. 

Looking over to Shay, you raised an eyebrow at her. “Just trust me Y/n. It’ll be fine, don't worry. And you will get along really well.” Shay winked at you. Knowing that arguing with her would be useless you just sighed and sat down. 

As soon as shift was over, Shay quickly drove to your place, insisting on helping you get ready. “So how do I look?” You asked walking out of the bathroom, doing a small spin. “You look really hot Y/n, but now we need to do your makeup.” She replied, smiling at you widely.

When your makeup was done, Shay drove you to the restaurant you were supposed to meet Will and Natalie at. After checking your makeup for the last time, you got out of the car and thanked Shay for her help.

Hearing your phone buzz, you pulled it out from your purse and answered it. “Hey Will, where are you?” You asked, looking around nervously. “Uh hey Y/n, I’m really sorry but something came up and we can’t go. But have fun with your date!” He said quickly hanging up. Hearing someone’s footsteps you looked up and your eyes went wide. 

It was Connor. 

“Y/n what are you doing here?” He asked, confused. “I was supposed to meet with Will and Natalie for some double date with some guy. But it turns out they had to cancel.” You sighed looking at him. “Wait. Natalie just called me and said the same thing.” Connor furrowed his brows.

Hearing your phone ping, you looked at the screen to see a text from Natalie. “Have fun, you two love birds. This date is on us.” You read out loud, looking over at Connor. “So this was their plan all along?” He asked. “Yea I think it was. Listen Connor if you don’t want to we can just go home and pretend this whole thing- Before you could finish your sentence, Connor pulled you in for a small kiss. Pulling away you looked at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry Y/n, I didn’t know what came over me- Connor tried to say but you interrupted him, by pulling him in for a kiss. “I’ve been wanting to do this for ages.” He said softly, looking into your eyes. “Me too.” You smiled at him. 

“Do you still want to go on this date?” Connor asked. “I’d love to. I always wanted to ask you for a date but I didn’t want to lose you.” You said softly. “You would never lose me, okay Y/n/n? Not when I’ve wanted to do the same for ages.”  He said gently cupping your cheeks to make you look at him. You nodded and smiled. “And I know that Maggie and probably Shay were involved in this.” He added. “Probably, but I think it worked.” You replied, smiling even wider. “Now c’mon, let’s go since it’s freezing.” Connor laughed, pulling off his suit jacket and placing it around your shoulders. “Thank you.” You softly said. He just pressed a small kiss to your forehead and wrapped his arm around you, leading you towards the restaurant.

[agaypanic]

request: ok hear me out!! touchy!reader is the new girl at whitechapel and everyone just kinda gravitates towards her but somehow the main friend group (rory, erica, ethan ect) basically adopt her into the friend group unbeknownst to them Benny has a HUGE crush on her and often sulks while hanging out with them because of how touchy she is with everyone else,, then they figure out theyre just both 2 idiots in love!!! bonus points if she’s secretly a vampire too!! (not touchy in a weird way physical touch is just her love language btw) I love your work smmmm btw :D

Looking For Affection (Benny Weir X Vampire!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: The gang makes friends with the new girl at school, who turns out to be a vampire that likes being affectionate with her friends. Benny gets pouty because his crush seems to be touchy with everyone except him.

A/N: this idea is so cute!! Benny would def sulk and be whiny about it and the gang would have to be like “bro get it together” lol i cant remember if full fledged vampires can drink animal blood or only human blood, so for the sake of the story full fledged vampires can drink animal blood, also warning for eating/drinking an animal ig…

***

Being the new girl was always hard. You didn’t know anyone, you didn’t know where half of your classes were. Hell, you weren’t half convinced you could find your way home. You were dropped off at your first period and basically left to fend for yourself. Then you had to force your way through an icebreaker while everyone stared at you, and when you sat down, you realized you had no idea what was going on because everyone had been doing this for weeks while it was your first day.

So yeah, being the new girl sucked. But it was ten times worse when you had to try to push down the deep insatiable thirst for the blood of the kid sitting next to you. 

“Before you all pack up, listen to me really quick.” The teacher said as she concluded the lesson. Everyone groaned but waited for her to continue. “I want someone to show Y/n around the school and help her find her classes. Would anybody like the volunteer?”

Surprisingly to your teacher, practically everyone’s hand shot up. It wasn’t too surprising to you, though. For some reason, the transformation made vampires very appealing to people. It got on your nerves on the days that you just wanted to lay low.

“Wow. Okay…” Your teacher looked at all the hands and then at you. “Y/n, how about you pick?”

You looked around the room. You had to be strategic about this. Someone who wasn’t too excited to be around you but wouldn’t abandon you before the end of the school day. It would also be a plus if you didn’t have an insane urge to suck them dry like a juice box.

You pointed at a girl that sat on the other side of the room, closer to the back.

“If you don’t mind?” She grinned at you.

“Sure!” The bell rang, and everyone left to go to their next class. You and the girl walked out together. “I’m Sarah, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.” Sarah took hold of your backpack, helping to guide you through the crowded hallway. When she took you to your second period, she stopped you from going through the door.

“I’ll come back after class to take you to your other ones. Since I’m like, your guide, I guess, do you wanna sit with me and my friends at lunch? They’re a little weird, but I swear they’re nice.”

This was going better than you expected. Someone nice was helping you find your way around, and you didn’t have to go through the new kid struggle of trying to find somewhere to sit at lunch.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

***

Before you knew it, third period was over, and Sarah was walking you to the cafeteria. You insisted that you weren’t hungry, so she took you straight to her table. Only one other girl was sitting there.

“The boys will come soon; they’re getting food,” Sarah told you before gesturing to the blonde. “This is Erica. Erica, this is Y/n; she’s new.”

“Hi.” You said a bit nervously. Erica gave an intimidating smile, looking you up and down.

“Hey.”

“Who’s this?” A new voice asked. You turned to see three boys looking down at you with curiosity. You stared back, waiting for Sarah to introduce everyone as they sat down.

“She’s the new girl, her name’s Y/n.” Sarah smiled at you before gesturing to each of the boys. “Y/n, this is Rory, Ethan, and Benny.”

“New girl, huh?” Benny asked from his seat next to you. Even sitting, he had to look down to make eye contact with you. 

“Yeah.” He seemed to smile at your slight nervousness.

“How’s your day going so far?”

“Pretty okay. Kind of waiting for it to be over.” You tried to not get flustered when he laughed.

“Yeah, that’s fair. What do you have after this?” You reached into your pocket and pulled out your schedule. Benny looked it over, and his grin widened. “Oh nice, we have English together.” This made you excited for some reason. Maybe it was because you now have another friend (hopefully) to hang out with in class. The fact that, upon closer inspection, you realized Benny was kind of cute might have also been a factor.

“Y/n, if you don’t mind, maybe Benny could take you to your classes for the rest of the day?” Sarah suggested.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” You looked at Benny. “I mean, if you don’t mind, obviously.”

“Of course. We’re your buddies now.” You mirrored his grin. It was your first day, and by lunchtime, you had made five new friends. This was easier than you thought.

***

It had been a week since your first day at Whitechapel, and things were going great. You had Sarah in your first period, Benny in fourth, and Rory in fifth. None of your new friends seem to wonder why you never ate during lunch. In fact, Benny and Ethan were the only ones who came to the table with food. Despite harboring such a big secret, you felt so normal.

Today, Ethan invited everyone to come over to his house after school. The group got excited, but you became anxious. You always ate when you came home after school, and you don’t think your new friends would appreciate a detour from Ethan’s house so you could juice an animal. Luckily, you lied and said you’d have to talk to your parents first, and they believed you.

When school was over, you raced home. You had to wait for the streets to clear of students going home so you could hunt. There wasn’t much to do in town in terms of hanging out, so soon, you were free to roam. The park was your best bet. You could easily catch a squirrel or a bird.

You had a squirrel in your sight when your phone buzzed. You pulled it out slowly, not wanting to startle your prey. 

Sarah

hey! we’re picking up a pizza for tonight. if you want, we can swing by your place on the way back to Ethan’s

You quickly typed a response. You didn’t want to miss out on your dinner or worry Sarah by not responding quick enough.

Y/n

sounds great! see you soon :) 

Sarah

:) 

Looks like you were having fast food tonight. You quickly nabbed the squirrel, making it drop the nut it was looking over. You didn’t like thinking too much about what you had to do to eat, so you closed your eyes and sunk your teeth in. God, it was so good. You had been starving all day.

You were lucky the sun was setting. You don’t know what you’d do if anyone saw you right now.

“Y/n?” You froze in your crouched position. The voice terrified you. You didn’t want to look up, focusing on the five pairs of shoes just feet away from you. This could not be happening. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing!” You answered quickly, hiding your food behind your back as you stood up. Pursing your lips, mainly to keep your bloody fangs hidden, you looked at your friends. They seemed either concerned or confused. “What, uh, what are you guys doing here?”

“We were coming to get you,” Benny answered. 

“Oh! Well, here I am.” You smiled awkwardly at the group.

“What’s behind your back?” Erica asked, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Nothing.”

“Come on, Y/n. You can tell us.” Sarah stepped forward, trying to coax you into telling them. She stopped herself from taking another step, staring at your face. “Y/n, is that blood?” 

You swiftly used your sleeve to wipe your mouth, trying to get rid of any evidence of what you were doing. But during your panic, you forgot you still had a hold on your food, allowing everyone to see it. They all gasped, looking at you with strange looks.

“Fuck!” You squeaked. You gently set the squirrel down and looked at your friends. “Guys, I know it looks bad. But I-”

“Were you eating that?” Ethan asked.

“Of course, she was eating it. What else do you think she was doing?” Erica asked, rolling her eyes.

“You guys are freaking her out more; look at her!” Benny scolded, and he was right. Tears started to fill your eyes. There was no way you could talk your way out of this situation. You’d have to leave town, and you just got here. Things were going so well, and you messed it all up by not being careful enough.

“Guys!” You didn’t mean to yell, but it felt like you had no control over anything anymore. They all looked at you, startled by your outburst but waiting for you to continue. You took a deep breath to swallow your nerves and tears, but it didn’t help much. “I… I’m not bad, I swear. If I was able to change, I would. But I can’t. If you don’t wanna be friends with me anymore, believe me, I get it. But I’m fucking begging you, don’t tell anyone about this. Please. I don’t know what I’d do if-” Your speech was cut short by shock. Sarah had launched herself at you, taking you in her arms to hug you. Rory and Erica joined her, while Ethan and Benny gave you small smiles. “What are you doing?” You whispered.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Sarah said, hugging you tighter.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” Erica added, rubbing your back. “Everyone gets caught eating an animal at least once.”

“What are you talking about?” You were definitely confused. There was no way they were saying what you thought they were saying. 

Rory grabbed you by the shoulders, taking you out of Sarah’s embrace so you could look at all three of them.

“Welcome to the club, dude!” After an exchange of glances, Sarah, Rory, and Erica grinned at you. But they weren’t normal grins. Their canines were larger and longer, just like yours. It all made sense now. Why they never ate during lunch, or stayed in the shade whenever possible, or sometimes had an orange-yellowish tint to their eye when they seemed a bit more emotional.

Tears kept coming, but your smile mirrored the vampires in front of you, albeit a bit bloodier. You lunged at them, bringing them into another hug. Relief washed over you, and even more when Benny and Ethan joined the group’s embrace.

You were so happy that you didn’t have to hold back from giving your friends affection anymore. Before you were turned, you were very touchy with your friends. Not in a weird way; it was just the way you showed that you loved them. But after getting your fangs, you were more hesitant, the fear of hurting someone you cared about making you reluctant. But now that most of your friends didn’t even have blood for you to sense, you didn’t have to hold back anymore.

“Wait.” You loosened your hold, taking your head off of Sarah’s shoulder to look at the boys. “What are you guys then? Are you just humans?”

“Not exactly.” Ethan smiled, somewhat awkwardly. You were convinced it was the only smile he could make. “I’m a seer. I get visions when I touch things or people.” You nodded before looking at Benny.

“And you?”

“Spellmaster.” Benny held his hand up to your view and magically produced a tissue, using it to wipe away the panic and joy-induced tears. “At your service.”

***

Discovering each others’ supernatural identities brought you closer to the gang. Before Whitechapel, you didn’t know any other vampires except for the one that had turned you. You could finally talk about the stuff that you struggled with without feeling weird about it; the cravings, being wary about making friends because what if they found out or you lost control, being hyper-aware of all the mirror’s in your house so your parents didn’t wonder why you didn’t have a reflection.

But getting closer to the gang meant getting closer to Benny. You quickly learned that that was both a curse and a blessing.

Benny was so sweet, and funny, and caring. Always interested in how you were doing and ensuring you were included in group plans. It was a big plus that he was very pretty as well.

One day in English, you two were reading together for an assignment. Benny turned the page, but wasn’t careful enough. He sliced the tip of his finger, and the scent hit you like a truck. It smelled so good, it scared you. Instead of being concerned, you stared at his wound when he hissed at the pain.

“Sorry.” He said, licking the blood off. You stood from your seat abruptly, running out to the bathroom. You knew Benny would understand, but you still felt bad. 

It was bad enough that you now had a crush on one of your best friends. But smelling his blood, his delicious blood, made Benny seem even more insatiable. 

To fix this little problem of yours, you decided to keep your distance for a while. That would be hard because you were together almost every single day. So you just made minor, subtle changes in your routine. You started sitting on the opposite side of the lunch table from him. When walking somewhere, you walked with anyone besides Benny. At Ethan’s, you’d sit in an armchair by yourself so he couldn’t sit near you.

It hurt you, and you felt terrible, but it was for the best. Besides, how could a mortal be with a vampire?

Tonight was one of those usual nights where Ethan’s parents were out doing something, so he invited you all to watch some movies.

Erica and Sarah nabbed the two armchairs in the living room, so you had to sit on the couch. You could sit on the floor, but you didn’t want to be uncomfortable. You burrowed yourself into one of the corners, wrapped up in a blanket. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Benny eyeing you. He sat down in the middle of the couch, a respectable distance from you but still close. You wanted so badly to be near him.

“Start the movie, Ethan! What are you waiting for?” Rory asked, dropping himself on the couch between you and Benny. The tension, whether real or imaginary, disappeared, and Ethan pressed play. You leaned against Rory, using him as a pillow as you tried to watch. But all you could think about was Benny and the little pout on his lips.

When the movie ended, you unraveled yourself from your blanket cocoon and Rory’s limbs and excused yourself. You went to the bathroom to splash water on your face. Even though vampires didn’t really sleep, you felt so tired.

Face wet, you grabbed a towel to dry yourself off. When you were done, you looked up and became surprised at the lack of reflection in the mirror. No matter how long you’d be a vampire, you’d never get used to that.

“What’s going on with Y/n?” Your ears picked up on Benny’s voice in the living room. 

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

“Why is she touchy with you guys?” He sounded sad, and kind of offended.

“That’s just how she is, B. You know that. It’s how she shows she likes you.” Ethan said, sounding done with the conversation that had only just started.

“I like that she’s all cuddly,” Rory said. “She’s really warm for a vampire.”

“Then why isn’t she like that with me?” Benny asked.

“Maybe you did something to piss her off.” You could practically hear the smirk from Erica.

“I don’t think I did.” Benny paused, probably to look back on your interactions with him. But he seemed to come up with nothing. To be fair, he didn’t really do anything. “It’s like she’s avoiding me.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you liked Y/n, Benny.” Sarah laughed at him. Ethan groaned.

“Don’t get me started; he won’t shut up about her.”

“Shut up, E!” Having enough of this conversation, you threw the towel in the hamper and went to the living room. Everyone looked at you as if they had seen a ghost. Pursing your lips, you decided to pretend you didn’t hear anything.

“What did I miss?” You asked, grabbing your blanket.

“Nothing,” Benny answered quickly, cheeks pink. You were about to sit down when Rory moved to your spot. He just smiled up at you, gesturing for you to take the place that he sat in.

The place that would sandwich you between him and Benny. It was better to go along with it than argue, so you reluctantly sat down, wrapping the blanket around you once again. Benny felt stiff beside you, and soon another movie played.

Did Benny actually like you? Your friends talked about it like he did, but it wasn’t necessarily confirmed. His reaction to them talking about his potential feelings for you could have been a tell, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

You became so suddenly aware of Benny beside you. It was like he was trying to keep himself compact, arms close to his body and long legs crossed out in front of you. It seemed like he didn’t want to be near you.

Or maybe he felt like you didn’t want to be near him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

You felt so terrible. All this time, you were telling yourself that the distance was good for the both of you. That he wouldn’t notice, and if he did, he wouldn’t care because it’s not like he liked you in such a way that he’d be sad that you gave him less affection than you gave your other friends. 

Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were scared of getting close to Benny, scared of what could happen if you were close to someone you were so infatuated with but also had such a thirst for.

But you supposed it couldn’t hurt to try.

Your movements were small, barely noticeable. Your hand inched its way to his. Eventually, the back of your hands touched. Benny took a deep breath from the contact, glancing down at you. But you kept your eyes on the screen.

Benny’s hand slowly moved over yours, feeling hesitant. He kept moving until, eventually, you were holding hands. It felt nice. You wanted to kick yourself for acting the way you did. Your body fell lightly on his, sides pressed against each other.

You stayed like that the rest of the night. You didn’t want to move away, not wanting to lose the chance of being close to the boy you liked so much after distancing yourself for so long. When the last movie was over, Benny seemed happier than before, a smile decorating his features.

But all good things come to an end. You had to go home, so you let go of Benny’s hand and stood up, throwing the blanket onto Rory, who gladly accepted it.

“Okay, I gotta head out.” Everyone stood up to hug you goodbye, Benny being the last one. You hoped no one noticed that you clung to him longer.

“I can walk you home.” He suggested when you pulled away.

“B, I thought you were sleeping over,” Ethan said, looking at his best friend, confused. Benny waved him off.

“Nah, I got some stuff to do. Besides, I don’t want her walking alone at night.”

“You do know Y/n is a bigger threat than any mugger, right?” Erica asked with a raised brow. Benny just ignored her, looking down at you hopefully.

“What do you say, Y/n?” You should say no. You didn’t want Benny walking home alone this late. But as always, he was being so sweet.

“Sure.” He quickly gathered his things, and with one last goodbye, you were out the door. You mainly walked in silence, but that was broken about halfway through your walk.

“Can I ask you something?” Benny asked, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.

“You just did.” He laughed sarcastically and nudged you with his shoulder, making you stumble. “Damn, okay. What is it?” Benny blew a loose hair out of his face, looking nervous.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” You stopped walking, shocked by the question. But you should’ve seen this coming. “Come on, Y/n. What did I do?”

You suddenly became overwhelmed with guilt. Benny thought that he had done something wrong when in reality, you were just a coward. 

“You didn’t do anything, Benny.” You said quietly, kicking rocks.

“Then what happened?” Benny grabbed your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Please, Y/n. It’s like I’m the plague or something to you.”

You mumbled a response, and he didn’t catch onto it. He sighed.

“Y/n, speak up.”

“I like you.” Your voice was weak, and you felt like you wanted to cry. Benny looked taken aback, still holding you by the shoulders.

“What?”

“I like you, Benny. Like, have feelings for you. But I had to stay away from you.”

“Why?” Benny asked, exasperated.

“Because how the fuck can I be around you when I’m busy worrying about whether or not I’m gonna suck your blood?”

Benny stared at you, eyes wide with surprise. That didn’t make any sense to him. According to other vampires, Ethan had even better blood than Benny, and you were just fine around him. 

“It smells so good, Benny.” You said fearfully. “That day you cut your finger, your blood smelled so, so good. And it really scared me, because what if I get too close to you and I lose control? What if I try to hug you or something, and I hurt you? What if-“

Your ramble was cut off by Benny wrapping his arms around you, practically slamming you into his chest. You hugged him close to you, as tight as possible without crushing him.

“You won’t lose control,” Benny said into your hair.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do. You’re not hurting me right now.” He was right. You weren’t digging your nails or fangs into him. You were calm.

“But what if-“

“No ‘what if’s.” Benny interrupted you again. “You like me, right?” That seemed like a silly question; you had just confessed that you liked him a few minutes ago.

“Yeah…”

“Great! Because I like you too.” Benny grinned down at you, all bundled up in his arms. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.” There seemed to be no room for argument; deep down, you didn’t even want to argue against it.

“Okay.” You pressed your forehead to his chest. “I’m sorry for basically ignoring you.”

“It’s okay.” Benny kissed the side of your head, rubbing your back. “You were just scared.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Benny gently pulled your arms off of him, hand trailing down to interlock with yours. He started to walk, tugging you with him. “Come on, I gotta get you home.”

“I could speed us there.” You suggested. Benny shook his head, smiling down at you.

“Nah. Wanna spend as much time with you as possible.”

[faithshouseofchaos]

Is my fish depressed? Merman!Pierre Gasly x reader

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For some reason I pictured frank the fish having an Italian accent 🤣🤣🤣 like (Eddie penisie from Tacoma fd)

(This was just something stupid and fun to write)

Something was wrong you didn’t know what it was exactly but something was wrong with your Betta fish. He wasn’t as lively as he used to be nor was he eating his peas (betta fish love peas this is a fact). Your Betta fish Frank used to swim up to the surface of the water to greet you and he used to follow your finger around the tank like a dog chasing his tail. So you called in the expert.

“So what’s going on?” Pierre said walking into your apartment.

“I need you to talk to my fish”

“I need you to talk to my frank my fish Pierre I need to know if he’s depressed because he’s not acting the same” you explained pulling him over to your fish tank.

“Alright let's take a look at him, but I gotta warn ya you might not like what I have to say.” Pierre looks into the tank and sees the fish just kinda chillin’ in the corner.

Pierre “Well the first thing I’d say is that fish are surprisingly affectionate and you seem to care a lot about him, and he does know how much you love him! Now as far as depression goes he’s not showing any of the usual signs but I can try reaching out telepathically to him.”

Pierre closes his eyes and concentrates while Frank stares up at Pierre and slowly drifts closer to him. Frank can feel the strange sensation of someone trying to speak with him directly.

“Hey pretty boy down here” he heard Frank say

“Wow, that’s amazing that worked” Pierre smiles to himself. “Frank, what’s going on man? Why aren’t you eating your peas, why are you just sitting in the corner? I know you’re not sick so why the change in routine? Is something wrong?”

“I’m lonely ok yeah sure the girl feeds me and cleans my tank and I like her but I’m lonely and want friends” Frank the fish explained.

“And I’ll pass on the message,” Pierre said.

“Oh and pretty boy one more thing”

“What is it?”

“The girl she has a crush on you consider this me helping you in asking her out”

“OK Frank”

Pierre laughs “Alright so you want more fish friends and you want me to ask the lady out, got it man I can make that happen!” Pierre walks over to the tank and addresses you directly.

“So Frank wants some friends so let’s get him some fish friends or maybe roommates Bettas are good with Snails and shrimp they also don’t mind guppies and some other small fish” Pierre smiles and then turns to you. “And Frank wants me to ask you out!” Pierre turns back to Frank and nods.

Frank looks at Pierre with anticipation as Pierre turns around to face you. “So you heard it from the man himself. He wants me to ask you out so…” Pierre trails off awaiting your response.

Pierre gives you a playful smile “So…” Pierre trails off again. He wants to say so will you go out with me but he wants you to say it, he gives you a playful grin encouragingly.

“Yeah I’ll go out with you”

Pierre is speechless for a moment “You will?” He asks as a huge smile spreads on his face. He didn’t think he’d get this far and he never thought it would be this easy with you he thought for a moment maybe he should ask again but no he’s sure you heard correctly. “Can I…can I kiss you?” Pierre asks hesitantly

“Yes Pierre I’d like that”

Pierre leans in and kisses you long and passionately. He wants you to feel just how much he’s wanted this for you to know that there’s no one else he wants. Pierre pulls away for just a moment looking down at you with a huge grin on his face. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a very very long time,” Pierre says, kissing you again.

[kallie-den]

Warhound

Sartha Thrace, ace mech pilot, is always so confused. She's a rebel, so why is she fighting on the wrong side? She's a free woman, so why is she wearing a muzzle? She's a hero, so why do her comrades treat her like a rabid dog? Sartha Thrace is so fortunate that her beloved Handler is always there to help her understand

This is a little different from my usual work. An experiment in style and tone, although it is still definitely mind control smut! Be warned, though. The tone is dark and it features some things like betrayal and gunplay that some readers might take exception to

If you enjoy my work and are looking for more, or you want to support me, I strongly encourage you to check out my Patreon! I  write erotica full-time, which means I need your patronage to keep creating, and my Patrons also get benefits like early access to my stories, extra stories, and the ability to vote on what I write next! So, if that sounds good to you, head over and join the couple hundred patrons I already have :)

—

Nothing makes Sartha Thrace feel good the way being saddled up in the cockpit of a huge mech suit does.

She usually likes to say it’s because of all the good you can do with that kind of power, because it’s a good line for pro-rebellion propaganda, but the truth is that it’s far more immediate than that. The joy comes from a million different things. The way the seat beneath her thrums as the machine kicks into life. The scent of machine oil and burnt steel as the reactor spools up. The way everything in the world shakes when her almighty machine, as big as a skyscraper, takes just one single step. The joy isn’t in her head. It’s in her blood. Her guts.

It’s fucking perfect.

All in all, it makes Sartha feel like she’s not just a person anymore. A person is just meat, however much of a hero they are. In the cockpit, she’s a sixty-foot-tall titan ready to crush the world under her heel. There’s nothing like the power trip, and it helps take her mind off some of the anxieties that like to eat at her.

Ancyor is the name of her beast. They know it everywhere, because Sartha is, after all, a hero. Just a name, no class, no model number. Not much point now. Ancyor isn’t like anything else after all the cannibalism Sartha’s had to do to keep her running. Everything’s been replaced twice. Most of it, three times or more. So now Ancyor is one hell of an ugly mongrel, but that hasn’t done anything to keep it off the rebel recruitment posters. They like using its face almost as much as they do Sartha’s.

It’s what you get for being a hero. Hell, for being the hero. She’s the big hero of the rebellion.

They’re just coming up on the battlezone now. Sartha trusts her instruments but she trusts her eyes even more, so she takes a moment to peer out of Ancyor’s grubby little viewports, even though it’s hard with her muzzle in the way. She can see her comrades’ battle line unfolding on either side of her, and it doesn’t make her happy. None of the other mechs look anything like Ancyor.

They’re all brand new and freshly-painted, and way too sleek for their own good. The kinds of machines that have just rolled off an Imperial production line. Fresh tech given to fresh meat that doesn’t even know how to use it properly. Something about it unsettles Sartha. She has too many ghostly little memories of fighting on the other side, against machines like that. Being with them doesn’t feel right.

Memories of someone else’s life. That’s what Handler always calls them when she tells Sartha not to dwell on them. Sartha does her best to listen, because Handler is always right. Handler is wonderful.

Sartha raises a hand and touches her muzzle as she thinks about that.

Everyone’s in position, comes the voice over the radio. Snooty. Elitist. An officer.

Copy, comes the reply. We’re ready.

Can we send the dog in first? someone asks. A bunch of sniggers follow that one.

Negative, says the officer. We stick to the plan. Commencing bombardment.

A few moments later, the ground starts rumbling and the whole sky lights up red and white. Sartha doesn’t look. She knows better than to stare at the fireworks. This isn’t her first battle. She’s a hero, and she knows what she needs to do. The little drip of adrenaline the blasts prompt helps her focus.

“Here we go, Ancyor,” she murmurs to no one.

When she opens up the throttle, Ancyor responds as always, with an ugly purr. The beast surges forwards. Sartha wants to be right on the heels of the bombardment. That’s what she does best. She gets stuck in with blade and chain, wherever it’s getting good and messy.

That makes her a really big target, obviously, and sure enough, the enemy is already replying to the artillery in kind. Beams and missiles start to fly past Ancyor as it sprints. Well, not all of them. Some of them hit home, and Sartha feels the impact in her own body. It does nothing but put a crazy grin on her face, behind the muzzle’s metal cage. She feels her mech clunk underneath her as redundant systems slam into place wherever the damage isn’t so superficial.

It’ll take more than that to put her beast down.

But since she isn’t actually crazy the way people say, Sartha shelters behind a ruin, ready for the tense dance of sprinting from cover to cover as she advances. As she does, she sees her comm system lighting up. It’s the enemy, yelling at her across a broad comm band.

Obviously Sartha knows she should ignore it, but there’s never been a good pilot who didn’t know how to trash talk. She isn’t enough of a professional to not reach over and flick a few switches so she can listen in.

At first the transmissions are too loud, and so messy they almost sound like interference. It’s not, it’s just too many damn people yelling at once. As usual, the sight of Ancyor loping into combat was getting a nice healthy response. After a moment, Sartha manages to pick out a few things here and there:

Traitor.

How could you do this to us?

Why?

What the fuck is wrong with you, Thrace?

What did they do to you?

Somehow, some of that makes it through the adrenaline and Sartha stops grinning. It’s not the words exactly. It’s the emotion. There’s this one woman in particular she can pick out, howling into her radio. It’s not familiar, it’s no one she knows, but there’s something in her voice. A depth; a ragged, throatfucked anguish that only comes from something real.

From real betrayal.

Sartha risks taking a hand off the joystick to adjust her muzzle, trying to make it less uncomfortable.

At the same time, she tries to convince herself it’s all bullshit. She tries to remind herself where she is, and what she’s fighting for, but that’s hard because she doesn’t know. All that stuff - the briefings before the mission, for example - is just a haze. It’s fog. It’s nothing. It’s like she wasn’t even there. So what the fuck is this battle?

Another look through the viewport. The whole place is already buried under inches of dust and napalm, but Sartha still can’t quite shake the feeling that she knows this city. It feels like maybe, in one of those other lives she sometimes remembers, this was a place she wanted to defend.

There’s something wrong with her, she thinks. It’s the only way to explain why she keeps flinching whenever she sees one of those sleek, black, fresh Imperial mechs punch out of the dust-fog. Stupid, stupid. They’re on her side. She needs to get that straight.

Sartha is keeping Ancyor moving, but that’s just instinct, and instinct isn’t half as good when you’re not paying fucking attention. And she can’t stop paying attention to that howling voice on the comms.

What did they do to you, Thrace? Was it money? What the fuck did they do to you?

What did they do to her? Sartha doesn’t quite know, although she knows for sure it wasn’t money. She remembers something, maybe, unless it’s just one of those other people’s lives. A room. A room that makes her scared shitless. And pain. From electric shocks, she thinks. And lights - lights shined into her head so bright she thought they would punch all the way out the other side. And most of all, words that never ever ever ever stopped whispering.

Fuck. Shit. She’s breaking down now, like a raw rookie. Only Sartha’s not a rookie, she’s a hero, only maybe she’s not even that if she’s a traitor like the voice on the radio says. She needs to get her head on straight. She needs to figure out where she is and what this battle is. She needs to get this freakish fucking muzzle off her head. She needs-

Click.

The radio goes silent and Sartha goes dead still. She knows Ancyor better than she knows her own soul. She knows every little noise it ever makes, and this one is very special. It’s an override for the comm system, activating a direct line to one special person in particular. Sartha’s breast swells with hope and bile in the instant before she hears her voice.

Can you hear me, Sartha? Handler says.

“Yes,” Sartha replies at once, because she would never keep Handler waiting. She’s already pulling herself together. She can’t break down like this. Not with Handler here.

It seemed like you were getting confused, Handler says. So here I am.

Hearing that almost feels bad because it’s almost a reproach, but Sartha feels good instead because she’s just happy to listen to Handler talking. Handler’s voice is love.

I’m going to take care of that for you, Handler warns. Ready?

“Yes,” Sartha says. She’s never quite ready for what’s coming, but she’s cringingly grateful for it anyway because in a few moments all the things she was worrying about won’t matter.

Hound, Handler says in a special voice. Off The Leash.

It’s not quite instant, and so Sartha gets a single moment to experience her own psyche cracking like an egg. It feels, more than anything, like clarity. She gets it now, as she falls away from herself. Sartha Thrace isn’t a real person anymore. Sartha Thrace is gone, they just kept the shape of her, like a papier-mâché mask keeping the imprint of someone’s face.

They needed her body, because it’s recognizable. They needed her piloting skills, because she’s the best. Everything else, they scooped out, except for whatever they needed to keep to make a nice little convenient shell for the thing that’s inside her now. The thing that’s coming out, now that she’s Off The Leash.

Sartha Thrace goes away, and Hound wakes up.

Hound whoops and growls, making Handler laugh approvingly over the radio, and guns Ancyor’s throttle so viciously hard the mech starts to scream underneath her. Hound doesn’t care. Hound doesn’t care about anything. She’s right where she belongs - in her colossal metal body, muzzle strapped to her face, beloved Handler in her ear.

And in front of her, there are targets.

Hound makes Ancyor lunge out of cover and surge towards the nearest thing she sees that doesn’t look like one of her sleek, black packmates, and then start tearing it to shreds. The way Ancyor jerks and whines in protest as it really rips into an enemy mech turns Hound’s growl into a wolf-scream of pure, untainted glee that lasts until the broken, bleeding thing under Ancyor’s blades finally stops moving.

Then, Hound lopes off into the rebel city in her mech, looking for more things to kill.

***

Sartha Thrace doesn’t know how much time has passed by the time Ancyor heaves back into its berth in the hangar. She only knows it’s after the battle, and mostly she knows there was a battle because Ancyor is beaten to hell and she’s covered in scars and her own matted blood.

It hurts, but in a good way, like how exercise hurts. The core of that good feeling is the vague sense that she has done a good job today. She fought hard, and they won.

Handler will be proud of her.

Despite how exhausted Sartha is, that knowledge puts a spring in her step as she dismounts from Ancyor’s cockpit onto one of the huge piers that line the hangar in rows. The hangar is a vast, cavernous space, too big to feel real, so big it’ll make your eyes hurt if you stare at the ceiling or the far wall. It’s steadily filling up as more and more of Sartha’s comrades make it back.

Not as many as there had been when they left, but that’s always how it is. Sartha knows how to make herself cold to it.

She gets a lot of hard, bad looks from the other pilots as they dismount. Some even spit. Sartha doesn’t let it trouble her. She isn’t really one of them, she knows. They’re all Imperial to a T: neat, black uniforms, cropped hair, stiff hats and straight backs. Sartha wears grubby old military khakis instead, with more than a few personal touches, and her mid-length blonde hair is messy in a deliberate, handsome way. And there’s the muzzle, of course. She doesn’t look like one of them. She looks like one of the people on the other side.

Sartha could probably figure out the other, less superficial reasons she wasn’t really one of them if she put her mind to it, but she didn’t, because Handler had told her not to. Handler always knows best.

Maybe something happened in the battle, and that’s why they’re so mad. Sartha doesn’t really remember, past the beginning. It’s all fog. She doesn’t worry about that. Another thing Handler has told her not to worry about. Sometimes it feels like her whole life has been consumed by fog, but she never worries thanks to Handler. That’s one of Handler’s many gifts to her, and in exchange Sartha needs to be very very good. She delights in being good. She won’t remove her muzzle without permission, even now, as it rubs uncomfortably into her face.

And there! Sartha catches sight of Her coming down the pier, as if in response to the hero pilot’s yearning.

Handler.

She’s magnificent. Beautiful, yes, but in a special way, more like a goddess than a person. Everyone else knows She’s special too. The other pilots, the ones who’d been spitting at Sartha, move out of the way and salute at Her passing. A special uniform marks Her rank. It’s more ceremonial than practical: tight-fitting leathers and high boots, with a sleek cap to crown Her platinum hair and a heavy, black coat to make Her silhouette all the more imposing.

Sartha senses that the other pilots are a little bit afraid of Her, but she isn’t. She could never be afraid of Handler.

“Sartha,” Handler says, in a voice that makes Sartha shiver every time. “Congratulations. You did well.”

Every single muscle in Sartha’s body goes stiff at the praise. Her head starts spinning giddily and a nervous, twitchy grin comes to her face. This is a sacred moment. But it’s too good to be true. It’s too much.

“I got… confused,” Sartha replies in a crestfallen tone. She can’t disagree with Handler, obviously, but nor can she be dishonest. She needs to volunteer these things.

“That’s true,” Handler conceded. “But you made it back on track. That’s what counts. It was a very confusing place for you. You did well.”

Sartha gasps and shudders. Butterflies in her stomach. The praise is all the sweeter now that she’s unburdened herself. She feels the ecstasy of purification.

“T-thank you,” she blurts out nervously, stupidly.

Talking to Handler always does this to her. Sartha has as many notches on her bedpost as any other ace but with Handler she’s fourteen again, a tongue-tied virgin struggling to think of a good enough line to get one of the older, prettier girls to take her to prom. She has to grab her left arm with her right hand to stop it shaking too much. But the anxiety is more than balanced out by elation. She can’t be anything but happy when Handler is here.

A thin smile comes to Handler’s face. On anyone else it might have seemed cruel, but Sartha knows that Handler is beyond petty things like cruelty. “You’re a very good hound.”

That phrase is like a magic spell. It lets Sartha relax into the praise. She giggles, and the grin on her face becomes broad and innocent. She’s a good hound for Handler. It’s perfect. It makes whatever she was worrying about earlier when she was confused feel utterly remote and small. Nothing matters when she’s a good hound for Handler. It’s the only important thing in the entire world, and her whole body knows it.

Sartha’s brain throbs endorphins into her bloodstream at a dangerous rate. She’s seeing stars and shivering rapturously. She’s blushing and dripping between her legs; turned on like hell even though this pleasure is so much more than just sex. Being a hound is better than being just a hero ever was.

She’s a good hound for Handler.

“And you know what that means,” Handler adds, smiling still. “Don’t you?”

Sartha dares to nod. She has her hopes, but it would be blasphemous to get her hopes up.

“Good hounds get rewards,” Handler tells her, and reaches out to pet her head.

This is special and it makes Sartha stop thinking altogether. Handler’s touch on her head is infinitely familiar, and more reassuring than anything. Her thoughts turn into bubbles that pop as Handler messes her hair affectionately. Sartha doesn’t try to collect herself, she just grins her stupid grin and stretches her back to try and push her head against Handler’s fingers. The lack of self-discipline is an indulgence, but one that she’s allowed from time to time.

“There we go!” Handler coos. “You deserve this. Don’t you?”

“Yesyesyes,” Sartha blurts out, all in a rush. “Thankyouthankyou.”

She could cry. She’s never been happier.

Handler gives her the blessing of letting her enjoy this for a few long moments before She says: “I think there’s another thing you deserve too. You deserve a treat. Hound deserves a treat.”

Sartha nods, drunk on eagerness. A treat is something different. Something specific. She always gets a treat after a mission, unless she’s been very, very bad.

“Sit,” Handler commands.

At once Sartha is on her knees. It doesn’t take thought. She sees that some of the other pilots are gathering round, and some of them are laughing at her. Sartha doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about anyone else when she’s with Handler. Those other pilots just don’t understand how special She is.

Handler leans in and looms over her, and says in that special voice of Hers: “Hound. Off The Leash.”

Sartha Thrace goes away, and Hound wakes up.

It’s a very different Hound from the one that wakes in the thick of battle. Hound doesn’t growl - she can’t, not at Handler - she just makes her eyes big and looks up at her owner. Handler’s smile widens.

“Very good,” She purrs at Hound’s display of patience. Handler pointedly sets one foot forward, resting Her big, heavy, leather boot on its heel. She waits a few moments, allowing Hound’s need to build. “OK. Go.”

Hound throws herself forward and wraps her entire body around Handler’s leg. She pushes her thighs apart as wide as she can, all the better to start grinding her cunt against Handler’s boot.

Immediately, Hound lets out a desperate whine of pleasure so loud it echoes around the hangar instead of being swallowed up. Her mind goes blank. The few thoughts Hound is permitted to have vanish. Touching Handler this way makes her unbelievably sensitive. The sensation is earth-shattering even though the heavy material of her clothes is in the way. What this represents is more important than how it actually feels.

Safety. Purpose. Reward.

This is Hound’s safe place. Perhaps the only place she feels truly safe, and that’s because this is where she’s meant to be. There’s no doubt. No uncertainty. Not with Handler. Hound does what she’s told and she gets her treat. It’s so blissfully simple.

If being good for Handler is the only thing that matters, she doesn’t need to think about anything else. And this is how she knows she’s been good for Handler.

“Good girl,” Handler says, looking down at her. Handler sounds so very amused, and Hound is just pleased to be the one amusing her.

She puts her face as close to Handler as she possibly can. Her muzzle is in the way so she has to turn her head and rub it desperately against her owner’s hips. She’s desperate for Handler’s scent; that scent of leather and polish and dark perfume is infinitely comforting and pleasurable. As it fills her nose, she starts humping more slowly and deliberately, pressing hard so that she can feel every one of the taut laces of Handler’s boot rubbing against her cunt.

Hound’s whimpers start to fill out into panting, breathless moans. The exertion is almost too much for her. She was already exhausted from combat. But she won’t stop. She’d never give up her treat, not for anything.

The crowd around Handler and Hound is growing as more and more Imperial pilots gather to watch the strange ritual. Despite their lurid curiosity, they keep a respectful distance; Handler commands a great deal of fearful respect. Most of them are laughing or leering or making cruel, obscene comments to one another. Hound barely notices, and doesn’t care at all. They don’t matter. Only Handler matters.

She does care, though, when one of the pilots breaks the circle and approaches. A woman. The laughter dies away, replaced by hushed pleas for their comrade to retreat back into line. She doesn’t. Hound flashes her a look, teeth bared, although her treat is too all-consuming for her to expend anything more than a stray thought on anything but rubbing her cunt all over Handler’s leg.

The woman returns Hound’s look with a hateful glare. “How can you let that… thing do that to you?” she demands of Handler.

Handler stares at her. She doesn’t flinch, which is impressive. Handler remains relaxed, amused. “What do you mean?”

“She’s a fucking rebel!” the woman spits. She steps forward again. “An enemy.”

“Not anymore,” Handler replies calmly. “What’s your name, pilot?”

“Sergeant Meetra Kotys,” she answers. “Sir,” she adds, a beat later than she should.

“You needn’t be afraid, Sergeant Kotys,” Handler tells her. “I personally oversaw Thrace’s reconditioning. Our domestication procedures are extremely thorough. There is no risk of reversion to adverse behavior.”

Hound hears but doesn’t listen. It’s not her place to listen. It’s her place to rut against Handler’s boot like the dumb animal she knows she is.

“I’m not afraid!” Sergeant Kotys spits. “I’m fucking disgusted. That woman took down half my wing at Hebros Ridge last year. Six people in the ground. Because of her.” The pilot’s eyes are uneven. Wild. “She deserves worse than this.”

Handler takes her time composing a reply. She pushes her foot forward, pressing her boot against Hound’s cunt. Hound moans, unfathomably grateful for this gift. She keeps humping, the rhythmic, bucking motion of her hips growing steadily more and more desperate.

“The Hound and her mech are a significant asset to the Imperial forces,” Handler says eventually. Her voice is icier now. More menacing. “That is all you should need to know, Sergeant. I’m pleased you value the lives of your fellow pilots. You might consider how many more of them might have been lost today without Hound here.”

Sergeant Kotys bristles at that. With a woman like Handler, there’s an implied threat lurking behind her every word, but the pilot is too aggrieved to care.

“But,” Handler adds, pausing for long enough to emphasize her charity. “Perhaps it will help you to think of it like this: my little warhound here is not Sartha Thrace. She is not the Sartha Thrace who killed your comrades. Whatever you want to do to her, it won’t be revenge. She is not Sartha Thrace. I have made her something else. Understand?”

Sergeant Kotys’s eyes flit uncertainly between Handler and Hound as she struggles to wrap her head around that; to reconcile her anger with it. In the end, she shakes her head.

“No,” she snarls. “No. That’s her. That’s fucking her. Seen that face a hundred times on the posters. That’s her fucking face. What about her hair, huh? And her clothes? If she’s something else, why does she look the same way she always did?”

“Ego totems.” Handler’s calm was impenetrable. “A few personal touches, nothing more. A little continuity and familiarity helps to maintain a sustainable, pliable outer persona.”

Sergeant Kotys just laughs thickly. “Fuck whatever that means.”

She takes another step forward. This is too close for Hound; she rouses herself a little from her stupid rut and begins to growl protectively at the sergeant from behind her muzzle. She only stops and returns to humping when Handler rests Her hand on Hound’s head.

“How can you just touch her like that?” Sergeant Kotys demands. She is furious beyond reason. Furious enough to risk the pilot’s wings she wore so proudly on her collar. “It makes me sick. Every time we’re told to drag her out into combat I feel like I’m gonna throw up in my damn cockpit.”

Hound isn’t paying attention again. The sounds of her rubbing herself on Handler’s leg are turning increasingly wet. Her cunt is soaked, and the dark stain on the front of her pants is starting to drip.

“Feel like I’m gonna get shot in the back every time I’m not looking her way.” The corner of Sergeant Kotys’s mouth keeps twitching down. “We all do. How do you know she’s not just playing you, huh? How do we know she’s not gonna just… just snap out of it, or something?”

Handler’s lip turns upwards. “Does she look to you like she’s going to snap out of it? See for yourself.”

Sergeant Kotys looks at Hound - really looks at her. She looks at the expression of dumb, grateful lust on her face. At the metal cage strapped firmly over her mouth. At the vacancy in her eyes, and the vulgar, bestial enthusiasm in her hips. She stares for way too long.

“Fuck…” she breathes. Her cheeks are red. “I can’t believe this. This is wrong. This is the woman who… I should really just…”

She reaches to her side and draws her pistol from its holster.

A few brave members of the crowd of pilots start to reach forwards, especially when Sergeant Kotys points her gun straight at Hound. Handler seems to know something they don’t, though. She flashes them a look, and they freeze. All eyes are on the sergeant.

She moves slow and shuddery. Like Hound, she’s not uninjured. There’s a mean cut on her forehead and a couple of bruises on her cheek. She looks exhausted too, but her hand is steady when she puts the barrel of her gun right against Hound’s forehead.

Hound barely even notices. To her, it’s nothing more than a little shock of cold as she feels the metal touch her skin. A mere distraction from what actually matters. She’s in heat. Handler is right here with her. She just needs to do what she’s supposed to do. She needs to enjoy her treat.

“God,” Sergeant Kotys grunts. She sounds almost disgusted, and almost something else. “What the fuck is wrong with her?”

The tip of her gun travels down the side of Hound’s face. The sergeant uses it like an extension of her own hand, dragging it heavily, callously across Hound’s skin until she’s prodding it into her cheek. The pitch of Hound’s moaning changes for a moment, but only for a moment.

“What about this, huh?” Sergeant Kotys nods to Handler as she jabs the tip of her gun hard into the side of Hound’s muzzle. Hound whimpers. “What’s this for?”

“That’s for your benefit, sergeant,” Handler replies. There’s a slight smirk on her face. “It helps our people understand her new place.”

“That’s fucking twisted.”

The expression on Sergeant Kotys’s face is so mixed it’s impossible to read. She hasn’t taken her eyes off Hound in minutes. She’s transfixed, and she barely seems aware of what she’s doing as she starts pushing harder with her gun, steadily dislodging Hound’s muzzle from where it’s supposed to be.

Even in heat, Hound can’t fail to notice this. A sudden burst of anxiety claims her. She doesn’t know what this means, so she looks pleadingly up at Handler.

“Wait.” This is the first true order Handler has given. Her voice is crisp and expectant and makes even Sergeant Kotys pause and look. Handler holds her gaze for a long moment. “She is an asset,” She reiterates firmly. “Do not damage her.”

Sergeant Kotys nods. A moment later, Handler nods too. Both Hound and the sergeant see the nod for what it is.

Permission.

The barrel of Sergeant Kotys’s gun is even more insistent now as it presses against the side of Hound’s muzzle. She’s pressing hard enough to move the metal cage out of place. Hound lets out an uncertain little whine. Her muzzle is tight enough that it hurts as it’s pushed across her skin, but more importantly, this is unfamiliar. But she doesn’t try to stop the sergeant, and she doesn’t stop steadily bucking her hips as she continues to hump Handler’s leg.

Handler gave permission.

Eventually the muzzle comes away from Hound’s face. The strap that attaches it to Hound’s head is still fastened, but it turns sideways and awkwardly hangs against her cheek. It’s a welcome relief, but the crushing pressure of the tight muzzle is almost immediately replaced by the cold of Sergeant Kotys’s handgun. She angles it slightly, wedging the very tip between Hound’s lips and using it to pry them apart.

Hound whimpers. The sergeant isn’t gentle. She butts the gun against Hound’s teeth and folds her lips up against her face. Hound can’t help but drool; she was already drooling a little from the sheer, gratifying pleasure of Handler’s boot against her cunt short-circuiting her devastated brain, but now trickles of saliva are dangling down her face and coating the gun’s barrel.

Sergeant Kotys’s expression twists.

She keeps going. She takes her time exploring, watching Hound’s face twitch whenever she moves the gun like this or like that. Everyone is watching her, as she goes ten times further than any of the other pilots would have dared. They’re not laughing now, they’re just staring, mesmerized by what’s happening.

The sergeant looks mesmerized too. She looks like she can’t stop.

Her pushing and prodding starts to turn more deliberate. Hound is panting from pleasure, and Sergeant Kotys takes advantage to push her gun deeper, forcing Hound’s teeth apart and ramming the hard, cold, metal barrel into her mouth. It slips in deep enough to make Hound choke on the unfamiliar object.

But after that, she starts sucking.

It’s what Sergeant Kotys wants. Hound can tell from the way she moves the gun back and forth, thrusting it, fucking Hound’s face. Hound doesn’t care about the sergeant at all, but she cares about Handler more than anything, and she knows Handler wants this. That alone is enough to fill her with giddy, heady enthusiasm and make her bob her head as she laps pleasingly at the gun barrel despite the acrid taste of burnt metal and oil.

“Fuck,” Sergeant Kotys breathes as she looks down at her.

There’s something in the sergeant’s eyes. Something bright, something growing. She keeps pumping faster with her gun, daring Hound to match her pace. She’s wearing the expression of a girl who's just figuring out that breaking toys is simply a special, better way of playing with them. Her nostrils flare with each breath, and the way her chest rises and falls beneath her uniform is sinful. There are a hundred ways to read what’s going on in her face, but one thing is very obvious to every single person watching.

She is enjoying this.

Hound is enjoying it too. She enjoys everything Handler wants her to do, no matter what, but after grinding her needy cunt into Handler’s boot for so long, her head is full of endorphins that make her stupid and transform anything into pleasure. And beyond that, a part of her simply loves the attention; a simple, brute, canine part of her they hammered into her head to make her more workable.

So, she has to try as hard as she can to be a very very good hound, and that means sucking off Sergeant Kotys’s gun with the rapturous adoration she’d usually reserve for Handler Herself. She doesn’t have to pay attention to the way her hips are moving, that’s automatic, so can lavish all her attention on the stiff rod of the gun’s barrel, lapping at it, drooling on it, taking it as deep as she can into her throat.

It’s still difficult. Hound is delirious on everything now - the pain, the exhaustion, the attention - and she’s trembling desperately as an orgasm builds inside her. It’s messy. Her drool and spittle form a messy stain down the front of her top almost as bad as the one on her pants, and Sergeant Kotys’s gun has been completely defiled with hanging loops of sticky, trembling saliva. Hound’s moaning is back, so bestial and lewd and breathy it makes all the watching pilots blush.

She’s close. Close to finishing her treat.

Then she hears a loud click as Sergeant Kotys flicks off the safety.

The click provokes a shudder from everyone, and Hound is no different. She glances up and sees that Sergeant Kotys’s eyes are as wide as ever. She looks capable of anything. Despite how fucked out of her skull she is, that click reminds Hound of what the object in her mouth is.

It’s a gun, a killing thing, just like her.

That thought is as exciting as it is terrible. The danger makes Hound freeze in her tracks, but only for a moment, because then her body screams at her and reminds her that, no, she can’t stop, not now, Handler didn’t say she could stop, and besides, she’s too fucking close, she can’t take it.

So she starts humping again, moans low and breathy and pitiful, and somehow it feels better than ever. It’s lightning against her cunt. Despite how insanely dangerous it is, Hound can’t help jostling the gun. She can’t remember if Sergeant Kotys’s finger is on the trigger and it’s too late to check because all she can see is white.

All Hound can do is fuck herself stupid and choke herself on the barrel and prepare for the thunderous oblivion that’s coming. Her hips have hit the point of agony but she’s rutting faster than ever, and so is the sergeant, turning Hound’s throat into another cunt with her pistol. The long piece of steel, now dripping wet and body-warm, chokes Hound’s moans, but she doesn’t care how uncomfortable it is. She just wants to explode. She wants the end. Every part of her is desperate for it, even the parts that used to be Sartha Thrace.

When it finally hits her, Hound howls around the gun at the hangar ceiling before finally, blissfully, she can let herself go slack and slump against Handler’s body.

This is as close as she gets to heaven. It’s sacred. It’s her treat. The privilege of getting to touch Handler like that outweighs anything, any potential humiliation, not that Hound cares about things like humiliation. It’s the ultimate affirmation, smothering all doubts as the indelibly-conditioned link between obedience and reward gets another notch deeper.

This is her. This is Hound. This is her purpose.

Unusually, no one is looking at Hound right now. They’re all looking at Sergeant Kotys.

She looks like she’s just cum too, even though she has not touched herself. A few moments later, her face turns, and she looks utterly consumed with disgust and shame. Then the disgust recedes and she fills with calm, but it’s a calm that glows from within and makes her fellow pilots nervous. Sergeant Kotys takes her time as she kneels down and cleans her gun on a dry portion of Hound’s soiled clothing. Then she stands, turns to Handler, and salutes.

“Thank you, sir,” she says crisply. “I think I understand now.”

Handler’s smile widens. She’s pleased with the lesson, and pleased with Hound as she starts to rouse herself from her post-orgasmic stupor and see to the task of licking clean Handler’s boots. “And what do you understand?”

“That this thing isn’t Sartha Thrace, sir,” Sergeant Kotys replies. “There’s no way Sartha Thrace would have ever let me do that.” She relaxes a little and the calm expression slips from her face, replaced with a smirk that is a mirror to Handler’s own. “We broke her.”

She’s still pushing it by speaking to someone as senior as Handler this way, but she senses - correctly - that she can get away with it. The two of them share something now. An appetite, perhaps. An understanding that her fellow pilots have yet to partake in.

“That’s right,” Handler says. “Now, sergeant, please report to my office tomorrow. We need to discuss your conduct today.”

It isn’t a threat. It’s an opportunity. Sergeant Kotys salutes again as she is dismissed. “Yes, sir!”

Handler turns next to her charge. “Up, Hound.”

Hound is so exhausted and stupefied by her orgasm that it takes her a moment to register what’s being asked of her but inevitably, she obeys. With some reluctance, she hauls herself to her feet. Handler’s boots aren’t clean yet. It’s a task that mustn’t be left half-finished.

“You can finish that later, in your kennel,” Hander instructs. She always knows what’s going on inside Hound’s head. “Now, here.”

She reaches past Hound and properly unfastens her muzzle, only so she can fix it back in place and tie it tight. The way she does it is strict, but not even slightly cruel. She makes sure not to pinch Hound’s skin or knot her hair. There’s something gentle, even loving about the way she attaches the muzzle - which the crowd of watching pilots obviously finds extremely creepy.

“There,” Handler says, once she’s finished. And then, in her special voice: “On The Leash.”

Hound submerges instantly, but it takes a long while for Sartha to truly wake up, leaving their body to sway emptily for a moment before Sartha finds her footing. Once she does, just smiles. Handler is here. All is well. Being able to bask in Her presence washes away any lingering confusion, and the aftershocks of pleasure in her own body simply add to her mood.

She doesn’t question them. She has no need. She’s with Handler.

“Come along, Sartha,” Handler says, turning away. “I need to debrief you.”

Sartha nods and trots after her so she can stand at her place, at Handler’s heel. The debriefing is important, she knows. She never remembers her debriefings, but she knows she needs them to stay good. The two of them walk across the hangar deck to the elevator, Handler’s boots clacking loudly against the metal floor. Before they leave Sartha turns back to look.

All her fellow pilots are watching her. Some of them are smiling. Some of them are laughing. Some of their faces are filled with awe. Sartha isn’t surprised by the way they’re staring. She’s used to it. It’s only natural.

She’s a hero, after all.

—

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who  support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following  patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

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