#he just loves you!!1 (way too much than a brother should)

[unconventional-lawnchair]

There's not much Barty Crouch Jr content out there. If you don't mind writing about him, can I make a request? After escaping Azkaban, he serves his Lord to the best of his ability, but there is someone from his past that he still can't get out of his mind. A Slytherin and from a family of followers of the Dark Lord. They had a relationship during their youth. After many years, he finds her again. He always had a soft spot for her. But the reader (like Snape, a sort of spy) is secretly thinking against the Dark Lord and stays away from these things as much as possible, but she is definitely in danger. Things are complicated, but the strong attraction and longing between them cannot be ignored...

The Boy I Knew

Barty Crouch Jr. x Black!Fem!Reader

Cw; Y/N, obsessions, one sided love(Barty pining), Barty being unhinged. Reader is morally grey, Remus Lupin onesided love (Rem pining), sexual themes and scenes, mentions of murder}} Please tell me if I missed anything!

AN- this fanfic is now well over what it should have been. I am posting a fraction of the proofread bits as of now, as I realize this is probably not at all what you wanted and if so I am SO sorry. If you want more I have a pouch that just needs to be beta read

Wc-5670

Taglist: @defnotfrey @au-ghosttype

{. 1972 - Barty’s Year 1 .}

Bartemius Crouch Junior couldn't have been older than eleven when he first met {Y/N} Walburga Black.  A cool upperclassman, if only by a year. 

Bartemius, at that ripe age, knew only a handful of things, and two of those was how badly he wanted to be seen and known. He wanted to be seen for who he was, and known for what he would do. That's likely what drew him to you. 

At only twelve, you and your brother had made a name for yourselves, in much different ways. Your brother was popular, for his quick tongue and clever quips, his innate ability to get under anyone's skin and stay there. Those traits could be forgiven, and they always were, for his big heart and intense sense of moral. 

You, however, were known for harboring a few very non Black traits, like your intense empathy and your crazed thirst for knowledge. Even as a Slytherin, your loyalty and curiosity rivaled the students around you tenfold. Your bravery knew no bounds, even with all the wrongs you had been done, you were forgiving and understanding. You were seen by everyone, you were known for everything.

As he got older, he wondered where that forgiveness went. You grew cold.

When he was innocent, when he had done no wrongs, you cradled him in your hands like he was a gift. You looked at him with eyes you shared with everyone, so much care and patience, so much understanding and kindness. So if those eyes were shared with the masses, he struggled, but was determined, to keep them focused on himself at any chance given.

It was obvious to anyone who saw the two interact. Barty wanted to be witnessed by you. The halls filled with the judgeful and teasing murmurs when he found you in the halls.

“There goes {Y/N}’s prodigy.”

“Barty is off to find his guru.”

“That boy will never learn.”

“How annoying.”

Barty had never been ashamed of his declarations for praise. He knew most of the voices were bitter with jealousy. He would be jealous too. You were both so young, and yet even some older students looked to you like you were twice your age, yet every Friday when the tests were returned, you sat in the courtyard and waited for him. Your personal underclassman.

You would meet in the yard and he would brandish his flawless marks, you would praise his abilities in absolute pride. He had never had someone prideful of him before. Everyone knew him to be a mother’s boy, but he would challenge any of those claims. He was a {Y/N}’s boy, he'd tell them, no shame as students snickered and made their fun of him. He was never afraid of how much he liked you. How much he admired and respected you.

He would turn from the RavenClaw table and look to you after his announcements everytime, you would be eating with Lily Evans and the other girls of her group, but your eyes would be on him. You would give him a soft smile that drove him mad. He would return it with his own, the smile he would save for you. Just you.

When he was only eleven and you were twelve, everything was perfect for him. You focused your attention on studies, your friends, and of course, Barty. That's how it stayed for years.

He would reminisce in his cell, running his dulled nail along the jagged stone walls, carving intents of every minute that passed. Remembering all of the things he regretted most in his life. Losing your trust was where his spiral began. He was a foolish kid.

{. 1974 Barty’s Year 3 .}

“It's getting embarrassing.”

Barty was eating lunch with one of the many friends he had made during his years at Hogwarts, Evan Rosier. He was once again bringing the conversation back to you, as he had been for the past few days.

“You trail after her like a loyal dog. Has she even given you a hint that she may return your feelings?” 

“What feelings?”

Evan and you did not get along. You never had. When he first found himself growing closer to him, you voiced your distaste for Evan the very next day. Barty always trusted your judgment, he obeyed you without much of a fight in most cases. This was not one of those cases.

He figured you to be biased, your brother thought him to be a Death Eater and you despised them. Something he could never understand, you were a pureblood, a Black, you were a powerful witch, and you would never have to worry about falling for a half blood or muggleborn, or Merlin forbid, a muggle. You were smarter than that. He always figured. You wouldn't taint your legacy.

Not like your useless brother, who he could see even now, describing his entanglements with witches and wizards of any kind, to the other Marauders.

As the years went on, you and Barty’s meetings became scarcer and scarcer, they went from Fridays to every second Friday, finally, you now only met every last Friday of the month. Still, Barty clung to you with a desperation he never would give anyone else.

Recently, you had gotten into a fight. One where you expressed your worry for what could possibly happen to him if he got involved with the wrong crowd. Barty, admittedly, didn't respond in kind. He was furious with you. You questioned his company but pushed away from him, you questioned his morals and his standing on the war. He told you there was no war to him, there was no fight.

At the end of the day, he would be standing by you.

The answer seemed to distress you further. It turned into a match of shouts and desperate pleas of compliance. It caused a scene, people watched as you defended your standing on your side of the war, this fight you were having with yourself he assumed. There was no war. This was a power struggle.

Evan’s scoff snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked up from his plate to his eyes. 

“Barty, half the school knows you've been in love with her since first year.” He hissed and Barty frowned. Would he call it love? He didn't think about it long before he had his answer. Love wasn't something he looked for, but he found it constantly. From the love he shared with Pandora, to the love he shared with Regulus, even the love he was nurturing with the brutish Evan.

No love in his body burned hotter then his love for you. 

He never thought about it because he never had to. Why would he? He knew you loved him too. He knew what you two shared was never anything that could be challenged. He was your prodigy. He was your prodigy. He didn't care for much, as long as he was yours. 

Evan snapped his fingers in his face and drew his attention back to him. He gave a slick smirk and wet his lips. “Come on, Barty, she's just a girl. You're wasting talent. Talent that could be used for someone who actually appreciates you.”

“She does appreciate me.” Barty challenged immediately, before Evan smirked and gestured to the Gryffindor table. “Does she?”

Barty turned just in time to see you, he never had to stare at a crowd too long to find you. 

You were sitting with your brother and his friends, side by side with Remus, sitting far too close for comfort. He was whispering something in your ear, making you giggle. Turning to look at him with the truest smile he's ever seen you make. Flashing your beautifully uneven teeth, your cheeks dimpling and eyes seeming to sparkle. Your eyes met Lupin’s and he took in your expression like he could die in that moment. 

Barty had never seen you smile like that before. He had never seen you look that way before. You had never looked at him like that before.

He hadn't even noticed as he began to bend the fork in his hand, fist tightening as he watched as Remus lean in and stole a kiss against your cheek. You gave a bigger laugh at this. Moving in to kiss his lips carefully. 

The wonderful moment you were having was interrupted when a loud snap sounded threw the cafeteria. Your eyes snapped over to the RavenClaw table, as did a lot of your peers. Barty had snapped a fork in half with his thumb alone. Before a professor could scold him, he got up from his seat and stomped out of the grand hall, and your eyes followed them.

You muttered a quick apology to Remus and he nodded in understanding as you scrambled to your feet to follow after him. 

He wished he could take every word he called you in that hall back now. He wished he had been smart enough to know that loving you with you in his life would of been far less torture then loving a girl who hated your guts. 

“You blood trader!”

“This! This is what I meant, Bartemius! My Barty would never-”

“You don't have a clue about me, you insolent heartbreaker! What of us, Black?”

“Us? What Us, Barty?”

That night he realized that no matter how genuine his love was for you, how deeply it ran, those times spent alone meant far more to him then it ever meant to you. You did stuff like that for everyone. 

He wasn't entitled to your love. Running his nail down until it was blunted against the wall. Azkaban could no longer do more harm then it already had.

{. 1974 Barty’s Year 4 .}

An entire school year. You and Barty didn't speak for an entire school year.

He kept his tabs on you, of course, because no matter what you said to him that day, you were still his person. Knowing how ignorant and how dangerously minded you could be, he took it upon himself to look over you. You may have been older, you may have sworn him, at one time, your loyalty and protection. But now, he had power of his own. He would repay you. He would repay and reeducate you, given the chance. With all the training him, Evan, Muliciber, Avery, even Snape had done? By Merlin’s beard he could do anything.

He had the mind to back that up, but he kept his power under wraps. You were always frightened by what you didn't understand, the last thing he wanted was for you to fear him. He wanted everyone to know him as fear, not you.

Never you.

When the school year started Barty noticed the shift instantly. He knew you like the back of his hand, far more than he let on most days, but it didn't take a genius to see that {Y/N} Black sitting with Regulus Black at the Slytherin table was odd. 

He soon learned of what happened between Sirius and his family, a right disgrace. Then to learn Sirius scorned you from his life for choosing to stay with Regulus, that was probably what started Barty’s absolute disdain for your brother. You had gone through training per Regulus. Saying before Sirius left he let it slip about you and Remus, trying to entice you to leave with him. You refused and your mother lost it. Walburga was a stain on this earth for what she had done. Even then…

It was all for the better, as he saw it. You don't need the impressions of Sirius Black, Lily Evans, Mary Macdonald, Remus Lupin, or any others that pour their venom into a perfect witch as yourself. He would make sure it stayed that way, even if it hurt you. However, he couldn't lie.

You always looked your best when you knew your worth. 

It wasn't just your routine that changed, you became cold to your old friends, dropping the Muggle borns and staying weary of the half bloods. You started to associate mainly with more influential Purebloods.

That meant him. 

He knew his father was good for something.

“Crouch? Would you like to accompany me to the library?” Your voice sang out to him, despite your listless monotone and drifting eyes. It was the first sentence you muttered to him in 13 months. Your voice was more reserved, your back straightened and your lips pouted. You didn't look like that 12 year old he knew, you were 16 now. Even in his depravity, he took notice of every lovely advancement you had taken in care of your appearance. Your mother instructed you with glamours and proper wear, even now wearing a black feathered choker and brandished a black quill. A family heirloom, Regulus would tell him.

Now, he hated your mother, there was no question about that. What she had done to Regulus was unforgivable, what she had done to you was cause for retaliation in his eyes. But Merlin, did she put you back on the path of greatness.

“Crouch? {Y/N}, my love, it will always be Barty to you.” He lit up like a child, voice sugary sweet. It was your turn to take notice of his change. He was still the same boy you met in first year. Endlessly obsessive, devoted, and excelling at all the things you liked about him. Unfortunately, also the things you hated. 

But, he was still your Barty in your heart. The boy you loved, the boy you cherished, the boy who charmed your soul in ways you didn't know possible. If you had to pick anyone to fill the hollowed out ache in your chest, you chose dangerously, Barty Crouch Jr would be your reprieve.

He was just older now. He was becoming a man.

Everyone knows what they say, about a boy and a girl, coming into their own together. Barty figured this was your love story, you weren't one to argue any longer.

He didn't care that you only seemed to speak to him out of necessity. When he heard from Regulus that your mother was making you pick your friends based on their social standing, any males to soon be a suitor, he was ecstatic.

He was remarkable. He was seen. He was valuable enough to you to not be a mere pawn but maybe even a queen on your chest set. To be used by you? It was worth every moment of the ache. All of this because his father just so happened to keep his filthy hands to the purest bloodlines.

That was his value to you. His blood, his sweat, his labor, and his mind. They were yours, no questions asked. He clung to your heel with new found determination. He would keep you on the right track, the promised one. The one that would ensure your children had the same opportunities. 

He knew he wanted this the moment he walked in on you and Severus arguing in the courtyard.

“You dare call her a Mudblood, you incessant pompous Half Breed?!” Your voice echoed through the halls. People watched in horror, some in absolute shock, the sweet kind girl they had grown attached to was a right monster now. Barty, however, was loving it. You were a proper pureblood.

“{Y/N}-” Severus spoke carefully, something about his tone was far too familiar for Barty’s liking, him addressing you by first name made his jaw tighten. He didn't have to say a word. You rectified it.

“Do not address me as anything other than Black, you dirty mutt!” You screeched. Severus looked stunned, the usually stoic boy looked broken. Barty watched as your eyes trailed over a shocked and watery eyed Lily Evans, he almost didn't catch you muttering, “You lost that privilege.”

He, of course, came to your rescue, as he always promised. Hand around your back and escorted you away from the fight. As you both walked down the corridor your path was blocked. 

Barty almost laughed, Remus Lupin. He was standing with Sirius Black, both staring threatening daggers at Barty. When you both kept walking, Barty shoved a path between the two boys, you hand a fistful of his cloak so as to not be left behind.

He didn't like how Remus’s eyes softened at the sight of you. He didn't like how Sirius reached for you. He walked faster, putting your sniffling form in front of himself.

After that, he knew he had you. 

You were becoming who you were meant to be.

~~~

He took his mark that summer, standing alongside your brother Regulus Black, Lucius Malfoy, Beatrix Black and Evan Rosier. They were at your cousin’s manor, in the ballroom standing side by side. He was as straight as a board, brimming with pride, smirking to himself and brandishing his left arm.

He could feel your eyes on him, from where you stood, next to Narcissa, your aunt and your mother. Waiting for him. 

Evan was first, standing beside Barty and holding out his wrist. When the wand hovered over his wrist and the Death Eater began to mutter the incantation, Evan let out a blood curdling sound. Pure brutish pain shot through him, leading him to fall back. Quickly held up by two other death eaters behind him.

When the wand brushed Barty’s wrist next, he hardly flinched. Tilting his head back as sweat gathered around his temple and neck. He bit his lip and let himself feel every sharp intrusion the spell took, letting himself succumb to the blissful pain.

When he returned to you, not standing to wait for dismissal like the rest of them, he wrapped his arm around your waist and yanked you in. He stole your lips for his own, making you give a slight gasp. You don't fight it, so he pushed further, letting himself taste your bottom lip and pulling it punishingly between his teeth. Through his high he was able to recognize and memorize the feel of your lips and the taste, in his mind, it was the closest to the gods he'd ever get. What was true heaven, however, was when you took his cheeks in your hands and kissed him back.

“Enough.” He heard your mother hiss from beside you. She shooed Barty away like he was some stray dog. He backed down from where you stood, licking his lips and admiring just how shaken and red you looked. Your mother, the hag, pushed you behind herself and hid you away from his eyes.

When you looked away and covered your mouth, he almost didn't notice how you also licked your lips clean. That drove him mad.

He had come to the conclusion early on, you were a temptress. A vixen. A damned Siren as far as he knew. 

Memories of that night, your first kiss, the moment he could see you falling for him. A proper man, worthy of the worship he planned to give you. Worthy of serving a goddess like you. It kept him up most nights, it was a high even the dementor's couldn't take away, but they did manage to warp his obsession from what he believed to have been holy, to the truth.

He was brought on this earth for you. Without you, he was nothing. He was rotting.

{. 1976 Barty’s Year 6 .}

The next year he took your hand and promised you the world. To his delight, you responded in kind. You began dating his sixth year and it was absolute bliss. 

It didn't last long, that bliss. It became a thrill.

Despite his power and loyalty to the dark lord, your mother favored another's for your hand. Particularly, Avery. His father came to your mother with the proposal, your mother liked his offer of the estate and your own power over the house.

You, however, much to Barty’s delight, were way too far gone. In your now secret meetings, where you would take you strolls along the city street, to the shop or to the boutique. You made a show of it; but you only truly left for Crouch Manor.

Where Mr. and Mrs. Crouch turned their other cheek as you snuck your way to Barty’s chambers. Behind those locked doors your love was dangerous. His whispers and promises of treachery against your family name were met with nothing less than desperate devotion and promises in kind. As your palms glided over his bare chest and his large hands found their way under your skirt.

His favorite memories were all locked away in that room. The room he made you his own, where his hands grew familiar with your skin in ways no one else ever could, where he found an affinity for you breathless, and where he heard you let out sounds no self respecting Black heiress should ever let out. 

He claimed what was his birthright, between your legs. Bruised your lips numb and left marks you had to charm away when you made it back home. Just in time for supper.

With the feeling of him still fresh on your body. The pureblood heir your parents thought so lowly of. The heir they didn't see fit to sit at that very table, was still there. His lips were on the rim of the cup you sipped from, his hands were on the arm rests you relaxed against, and his teeth and claws were buried into their perfect daughter.

{. 1978 .}

By the time you both graduated, you took your place at the table. Having fought to hold off your engagement to Avery, Barty took it into his own hands to get between the two of you. Every time you glance in the boy's direction, he shrivels in on himself.

“Barty?” You whispered between his greedy kisses, in the halls of the Malfoy manor.  The only times his hands could find your hips and his lips could find yours outside of his own room now. He was starting to see less and less of you. The war was in full swing and with his desperation for you was all that was driving him most days. 

Thinking now, he wondered what drove you. Even now, having spent a year in Azkaban, you were still the light he flew to, no matter how much it hurt him. He could have sworn, at one time, it was him.

“Darling.” He whispered low against your lips. You tangled your fingers into his hair, before pulling him down. He rested his chin against the curve of your chest and looked up into your eyes.

You bit your lip, running your thumb along his own reddening ones. “Do you love me, Barty?” You cooed.

“I do.” He affirmed, licking the skin you touched along his Cupid's bow, “I do, more than anything.” His voice was raw and rough, he pulled at your hold, trying desperately to kiss you again.

“Do something for me, Barty.” 

“Anything, Darling. Anything.” He muttered, eyes still on your lips.

“Be within my reach. Always.” You whispered before releasing him. He took your lips once more, pushing you back against the wall like the very prospect of not touching you in some way was physically painful. His hand traveled up from your hand to rub over the mark you took just days earlier.

Every moment like that seemed fleeting. 

The very next year, Regulus Black passed. He had gone MIA and your mother, despite her loyalty to Voldemort, commanded you home. It got worse when they officially announced his death.

You stayed locked in those walls, by order of your mother. He missed you dearly. Barty never wanted to be your hero, some great commander, he couldn't care less now about who else even knew his name anymore. He was older now, and he just wanted to be yours. 

So, it pushed Barty to work even harder. Anything to appease The Dark Lord, get this war over with, so he could return to the only true person worthy of his reverence. 

Without you, his life went by in simple clips of reality. When Voldemort fell, he was imprisoned in this hellhole, and even now, he found himself unable to let anything else consume his mind.

The dripping of water from the rusting metal doors drove him mad. No other sounds but the miserable screams of inmates and slamming of bodies against pavement. It was a torturous and hopeless place, some people preferred punishment by their own hands. There was suddenly a loud clanging of keys that cut his thoughts.

He looked up from the corner of his cell, putting his thumb in his mouth and sucking on the bleeding torn skin. The marks he had made on the cell walls marked his 354th day in this nightmare. His eyes locked with his father and his mother, furrowing his brow as he stood.

His mother two out two veils of a slug colored potion, his father had another potion in his hand.

Barty didn't stay in that cell to see his 355th.

~~~

{. 1994 POV Shift .}

“It's a bit cold, don't you think?”

Remus Lupin's voice cut through the fog of your mind like a knife through butter. He was right, of course. Even as the year grew warmer with the summer months growing closer, the astronomy tower always gave a pleasant and persistent chill. 

You were used to it, by now. Being the Astronomy Professor for almost twelve years. About the same amount of years you managed to avoid coming into contact with Remus himself. 

You had to give him credit, Remus Lupin, he was persistent. Doing everything in his power to get you alone. As if one conversation would melt away years of what you had done, the people you deceived, the lives you took, the lies you told… all in the name of a crazed boy long lost to the history of the wizarding world. For the family who was as faded as the family tree you used to tend to with your brothers, painting names and burning faces. 

As if speaking to you would somehow bridge a gap. A gap in his heart that still ached for you. It was never something he was able to understand, your persistent and endless love for Crouch had come out of nowhere for him. He couldn't look Sirius in the eye for a long time, learning he had outed your budding relationship. 

He took every chance he could, to reach out, to speak to you, it was met with closed doors and a reminder of remaining professional. 

“It is. Heading out, Lupin?” You muttered to him. You couldn't lie and say having him here didn't make you feel, in some ways, nostalgic. To the loving, caring, respectful girl you once knew. One with so much patience and kindness you shared it with all kinds of souls. Souls you've watched drop like flies under the man you swore your life to.

“I am.” Remus muttered but didn't turn to leave. You shifted on your heel to look back at him from the entrance of the tower. He had his hand resting on the railing, his palm thudding against the railing as he tried to gather the courage to continue.

“I heard you gave Snape quite the earful.” He hummed, walking deeper into your classroom. You thinned your lips and shook your head, turning away from him. He gave a weak scoff. 

“Could you at least look at me?” He pushed, his voice wavering. You closed your eyes and gave a deep sigh. Your hands moved to grab the railing.

“What is it, Lupin?” 

“It's not too late.” He whispered and you closed your eyes. His words were exact, aimed to cut deep and retrieve from you the heart he knew was there; it just had grown cold. “You could come back. With me, tonight, we can meet with Padfoot and-”

“And what, Lupin?” You spoke calmly as you turned to face him. He went rigid at your stare. “Live this wonderful life you have weaved out for us? Pretend that everything is okay and the last few years never happened?” You pushed and he closed his eyes. 

Anger bubbled in his throat with something familiar, jealousy and bitter melancholy. If he could hear you any clearer you would be cotton in his ears. Your words were empty because he knew you could. Put Hogwarts behind you and come back to him, come with him and Sirius like you should have done back when you wore uniform and not cloaks like proper professors. Nothing was proper about you two aching hearts anyway. 

Yet history repeated itself.

It always would.

“You know he's gone.” Remus started slowly and your breath caught in your throat. You felt your eyes grow glossy with grief and you placed your left hand over your heart. 

“I never thought I would be someone's second choice. To Bartemius Crouch Jr.” He continued. “I see I never measured up, did I?” 

“... I am sorry, Remus.” You whispered, your voice, for the first time in years, was vulnerable. It was careful.

Because of course you loved Remus. You loved him dearly, but no man would own you like Barty had. You were terrified to let yourself be loved with anything less than what he had shown you. Steadfast and faithful love. No one could challenge the status of Barty in your life.

Even in death his ghost reminds you of your place. Next to him. 

Once this was over, once Dumbledore had seen and used his worth in you, when you were no longer under his wing like a servant, you would go back to 12 Grimmauld Place. You would retire. And you would wait for Barty to take you back home. Let it be a year, let it be ten, you would return to him as promised.

“... What have you become?” He whispered to you, and your eyes finally raised to meet him. You caught your tears and quickly cleaned your face. Shaking your head you put back on your practiced and perfect pout.

“.. A Black.”

Your exchange ended there. 

Remus returned to your brother, you presumed. You forged ignorance when you were questioned by the Ministry of your brother’s whereabouts. It didn't take much for them to let you be, especially with Mr. Crouch Senior’s particular protectiveness of you. Probably a gift from Mrs. Crouch, oh, how you missed her.

When Barty was taken and your mother was far too weak to control you, you visited the Crouchs’ daily. You helped Winky with taking care of his parents, particularly his sick and fragile mother. You grew a weak repore with his father, though you despised him. 

As a proper pureblood you just silently reaped the benefits of what the world had gifted you.

Including your wealth. With the house of Black fallen you were left to be the soul heir. Though, the moment you heard of Sirius Black’s escape, you reopened your joint account. Soon, you heard someone was able to access it. It was true; your brother was alive and well.

That was the only olive branch you extended to him. 

Once the school year was officially over you returned home. To your modest house down in an old town just a broom ride away from Hogwarts. Feldcroft.

You returned home, it was uneventful. Until you opened your door. 

You were greeted by Winky, the Crouch’s house elf. That wouldn't be unusual, Barty had preached to her about how you were both intended. How she should attend to you, how she attended to him. So she would appear at your house from time to time, with gifts and food she had prepared for Crouch Senior that she made just too much of.

“Winky?” You called out to the figure in your hall. The sheepish girl turned to face you with a careful smile.

“Madam Black has returned! How happy Winky is to see you, mistress.” She declared and hurried up to you. Her path was cut short as Creature stepped in front of her, snapping away your bags. He seemed in a foul mood. Fowler then usual.

“Your mother would not approve of your company, Ms. Blaaaack.” He warned and you furrowed your brow. “Nor would she approve of this home-”

“Kreature.” You demanded and he huffed. Winky was always coming in and out, Creature never voiced displeasure with her company and your mother, well, she could care less. “What company?”

“The noisy Crouch, Ma'am.”

Your heart dropped. He apparated away, assumingly to unpack your bags. Your eyes widened as Winky appeared in front of your full view. Showing off the black quill you had most definitely left at home. Your mothers old quill. You took it carefully from the house elf.

“Winky..” You spoke carefully and slowly. Holding up the quill between your fingers. “Who gave this to you?”

“I think you know, Darling.” 

Before Winky could answer, a voice lost to time spoke first. You knew it before you even turned around. 

Still, you jerked your entire body to face him. Your eyes locked, full of longing and hope.

 And there he was. Your Barty.

He was holding a newspaper, licking his bottom lip but his eyes were on you. His eyes were just how you always remembered them. So full of danger and appreciation for your simple presence. He stepped towards you and you took a step back. He tsked at that, reaching out to grab your waist. “Darling..” He whispered.

You were still in shock. Staring up at his brown eyes and waiting. For anything. “Barty?” You whispered.

When he kissed you, alarm bells went off in your head. You didn't listen to any of them, grabbing him just as greedily as he held you. Both of your eyes closed and you held each other like you might perspire. 

He was home.

He truly was.

[reyreadersblog]

ALRIGHT Y'ALL MADE ME DO IT!!!

My unpopular tig/tgg opinions!!

FIRST!

These are MY opinions and i'm allowed to have my own thoughts on certian things, just as you are, okay..? Just wanna..get this out of way, i know everyone is respectful in this fandombut still.

1. this is something that should NOT be an upopular opinion. AVERY IS THE MAIN CHARACTER FOR A REASON. okay? She is a girlboss, and she needs more appretiation, cus literally search up tig on tt rn. Everybody and their cat named Stewie is talking about Grayson and Jameson? WHAT ABOUT MY MG AVERY? And if you see any post about her, it's probably a hate vid about how Avery should've kept the money...SHUT UP. Read what she said carefully..."no one deserves that kind of power.." and then think about it deeply.

2. I DO NOT WANT TIG TO TURN INTO A TV SERIES (or even a movie). i can't name all the reasons 'cus then the the list would be endless. First of all, i know, I JUST KNOW, they'll choose the worst cast ever. And even if they find the most accurate cast for the Hawthorne brother i will still be dissapointed, because the images of them i have in my head...THEY'LL NEVER TOP EM. second of all, they will leave out important moments, just as simple as it sounds, and trust me they will, just like they do with most of the live adaptations of books. Third of all, SHIP WARS!!! I phisically can't with ship war, like I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF EM IN THE PAST WHEN THE BOOKS WERE STILL COMING OUT. And just the thought of Averygrayson shipper saying "yeah Avery and jameson were endgame in the books but they might change it in the movie..." GIVES ME NIGHTMARES. and overall, not everything needs a live adaptation yk? sometimes things just have to stay the way they are.

3. ...this is a bit contrevertial.and i don't want to sound like a hater since i've said this a multiple times before but Rohan's pov was my least favourite in the grandest games. Purely bcs whatever Savannah and Rohan had going on...don't get me wrong, i like Savannah (even tho she did and said some fucked up things) and Rohan, SEPERATLY. But them being together...idk man, they were too..."booktokish" for my liking, yk? and i do love banter and teasing, but they were like basic "i like you but i like winning more" "couple". Not to mention they were so random...like where did they come from? I remember when we first saw Sav and Rohan having the same symbols on their cards i was very excited, i expected a different dynamic between them...PLUS THE WHOLE GAME THEY JUST WANTED TO FUCK💀

4. Hating Alisa Ortega and loving Grayson Hawthorne is CRAZYYY, and i'm saying this bcs they're pretty similar in different ways. And the thing is people are mad at Alisa for "saying mean words to Libby" (she was literally doing her job, you would understand if you were at her place) MEANWHILE GRAYSON LITERALLY THREATENED A HEIRESS! (sayin this as a Gray stan) *sigh* y'all are something else🤦🏻‍♀️.

5. Ohh...this one is risky...BUT CAN Y'ALL STOP ACTING LIKE JAMESON IS BLAMELESS?? all i see is Grayson slander, AND I UNDERSTAND, he fucked up, but saying "Jameson was so much better than Grayson" is a lie, at least for me. (He was better for Avery tho) he fs made mistakes that fandoms chooses to ignore. Like lets not act like treating Avery like a toy wasn't wrong. Lets not act like him blaming Grayson for everything wasn't wrong. Let's not act like him reminding Grayson of Emily's death wasn't wrong. And i know that later on both him and Grayson had a great character development, but still, i've never seen anyone talk about this.

6. This isn't about tig. But LIKING JLBS WORK AND BEING HER FAN DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE GLAZING HER💀 (talking about an argument i had a while ago...) like is it so hard for your brain to understand that it's called having an opinion. Idc if it's JLB or any other author, okay? Like i've read almost every Jlb's books and i love them, AND i also publicly talk about how much iblove her work, does that mean i'm glazing her? UHM NO WTF💀.

7. LET. PEOPLE. HAVE. PREFRENCE. (I'm talking about ships btw) . Someone prefers LyraGray over Averyjameson, and that's okay. Someone loves Averyjameson the most, and that's also okay, someone likes Libbynash more then Xandermax, AND THAT IS ALSO OKAY.

I'll probably do part 2, i have more to say i'm just really tired rn.

Also it's not proof read so sorry if there are many mistakes.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

I really loved the angsty fic I was supposed to protect you do you think you could do it but with the datables? If that’s too many characters then just Diavolo and Simeon and Luke.

(I know asking for Luke is 👿 because he’s just a child but I wanna sob and having him see MC die I think will do it)

Heyy I'm glad you liked the first part and sure. Part 2 is coming right up! I gotcha! Enjoy!

Author's note: This is part 2 of the story I was supposed to protect you which includes the demon brothers. You can find part 1 here.

Summary: During a fight MC(you) sees that the dateables + Luke won't be able to dodge the next attack so you take it instead of them, causing your death.

Contains: Angst

GN!MC x Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, Simeon, Luke

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

I was supposed to protect you

Part 2

Diavolo

Diavolo, the future King of the Devildom, was a force to be reckoned with. His power was overwhelming, and his presence commanded respect. But even he, with all his strength and authority, was struggling. The battle had taken a toll on him, and for the first time, you saw doubt flicker across his face.

The enemy launched a devastating attack aimed directly at him, and for a moment, Diavolo didn’t have enough time to counter it. His eyes widened, realizing the danger too late.

Without a second thought, you threw yourself in front of the blast.

“MC!” Diavolo’s voice was filled with shock and horror, something you’d never heard from him before. He rushed to your side as you collapsed, his powerful hands catching you just before you hit the ground.

“Why would you...?” His voice trembled as he cradled you in his arms, his usual regal composure completely shattered. He was the Prince of the Devildom, yet he couldn’t stop this. He couldn’t stop you from slipping away.

You tried to smile, to show him you didn’t regret it, but it hurt too much to form words. Diavolo’s expression crumpled, tears gathering in his eyes as he held you tighter, as if he could somehow keep you with him.

“MC, please... I need you,” he whispered, his voice desperate and broken. But it was too late. You had saved him, and that was enough.

Barbatos

Barbatos was always composed, always several steps ahead of everyone else. His calm demeanor never wavered, even in the most dangerous situations. But this time, the enemy had caught him off guard. A powerful strike was coming his way, and for once, Barbatos didn’t see it coming in time.

You saw it before he did, though, and in an instant, you made your choice.

You stepped between Barbatos and the attack, taking the full brunt of the blow.

“MC...” Barbatos’s voice was softer than you had ever heard it, full of disbelief as you collapsed into his arms.

He knelt beside you, his normally composed face etched with something you had never seen before—genuine fear. “Why?” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “You didn’t need to do that.”

You tried to respond, but your body was growing heavier, the pain too overwhelming. Barbatos tightened his grip on you, his eyes dark with regret. For once, he hadn’t been able to predict what was going to happen. He hadn’t been able to save you.

“I... I should have protected you,” he murmured, his voice breaking in a way that was foreign to him. The timekeeper who was always in control, always calm, had lost something he couldn’t get back.

Solomon

Solomon, the ever-cunning sorcerer, was locked in a fierce battle with the enemy, casting spell after spell with a determined look on his face. But even the most powerful human had limits, and Solomon was nearing his.

The enemy’s next strike was aimed directly at Solomon, and for a moment, you saw the panic flash in his eyes. He couldn’t deflect it in time.

Without hesitation, you threw yourself between him and the attack, absorbing the impact yourself.

“MC!” Solomon’s voice rang out, full of horror and disbelief. His usual calm, teasing demeanor disappeared in an instant as he rushed to your side.

He knelt beside you, his hands shaking as he tried to stabilize you, casting healing spells in vain. “Why... why did you do that?” he asked, his voice trembling.

You could see the panic in his eyes as he realized that no amount of magic could save you. His hands moved frantically, trying to cast every spell he knew, but it wasn’t enough. You were slipping away, and there was nothing he could do.

“MC... I’m supposed to protect you,” Solomon whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “I... I promised I’d look after you...”

But even the most powerful sorcerer couldn’t stop death. And as your vision faded, you felt his grip tighten on you, the weight of his regret hanging heavy between you both.

Simeon

Simeon was an angel of light, a beacon of hope even in the darkest of times. But today, even he was struggling. The enemy’s attacks were relentless, and despite Simeon’s divine strength, he was starting to falter.

The enemy launched a strike aimed directly at him, one that could be fatal if it hit. Simeon’s eyes widened, but he wasn’t fast enough to block it.

You moved before you could think, throwing yourself in front of him just as the blow landed.

“MC!” Simeon’s voice was filled with shock, his usual gentle tone now laced with panic. He caught you as you fell, his strong arms cradling you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Why...?” Simeon whispered, his voice trembling as he held you close. His eyes, usually so full of light and warmth, were now clouded with grief. “You didn’t have to... I would have been fine...”

You tried to smile, but the pain was too much. Simeon’s grip on you tightened, his wings trembling slightly as he leaned over you, his tears falling silently onto your skin.

“MC, I can’t lose you,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he held you closer. “Not like this...”

But there was nothing he could do. As the darkness closed in, you could feel Simeon’s sorrow, the way his heart ached as he realized he couldn’t save you.

Luke

Luke, despite his young age, was full of determination and bravery, always trying to prove himself. But in this moment, facing a dangerous enemy, you could see the fear in his eyes. He wasn’t ready for this, and the enemy’s next attack was aimed directly at him.

You didn’t think. You couldn’t let Luke, so full of light and innocence, take that hit. Without hesitation, you stepped in front of him, taking the blow meant for him.

“MC!” Luke’s voice was high-pitched with panic as you collapsed in front of him. He rushed to your side, his small hands trembling as he tried to shake you awake. “No, no, no! You can’t... you can’t leave me!”

His voice was frantic, full of fear as tears welled up in his eyes. He had always looked up to you, always relied on you, and now you were slipping away before his eyes.

“Why would you do that?” Luke cried, his tears falling freely. “You’re supposed to be okay! You’re supposed to be with me!”

You wanted to reassure him, to tell him it was alright, but the pain was too much. Your vision was fading, and the last thing you heard was Luke’s heartbroken sobs as he begged for you to stay.

[hatkuu]

okay so i've discussed step bro kylar letting you into his room n his bed but. but what about step bro kylar sneaking into your bed at night :)

he promises that he won't be weird like last time!! this time he'll just grope you after you fall asleep instead of thinking you're just as needy for him as he is for you... and he knows you have trouble sleeping, so why don't you just let your brother take care of you?

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Go for his brother part 2

Part 1 here

Part 3 here

username1 DOUBLE BETRAYAL 😭

↳username2 wdym bro wtf Arthur is just getting his karma, he CHEATED on Y/n with her best friend

↳username2 and Y/n only got with his brother after the breakup

username3 It's so crazy to me how not long ago Y/n was with Arthur at Charles' race and we could see them all lovey dovey and now she's with Charles 💀

username4 I hope they actually like each other and it's not just something Y/n schemed to get back at Arthur

↳username5 And even if it is, so what? Both Leclercs deserve this if she's doing it for the sake of revenge

username4 What did Charles ever do to you 😭 he's a literal pookie

username6 I am BEGGING to find out Arthur's reaction

username7 I wanna see this on Drive To Survive lmao

↳username8 The most interesting thing in the whole season lol

username9 Exactly! Men driving in circles? Nah, fuck that, give me family drama

yourusername The Art & The Artist

view all comments

charles_leclerc I took way more than these 2 pictures, should post them all

↳yourusername some would get me banned🤭

username1 MY OH MY

username2 What did she say 😐

username3 I'm jealous but haven't decided if I want him or her

username4 Arthur better not read this comment section (I hope he will)

francisca.cgomes Thanks for blessing my eyes 🫶

↳yourusername You're welcome bestie🫶

username4 it's so nice to see Y/n found a friend who won't steal her bf

username5 You can't be sure, it's Charles Leclerc we're talking about. You think he wouldn't go for his best friends' girlfriend who is now his own girlfriends' best friend after pulling what he's just pulled?

username4 ngl girl I got lost in whatever you're saying

yoursister In your iconic girl era ❤️

↳yourusername I slayed didn't I 💅

username6 Honestly guys I believe it's not just a revenge scheme

↳username5 What makes you think that?

username6 Given these pictures and the pictures from the gossip page they look pretty much happy to me, too happy for it to be fake

username5 Whatever you say, we'll see. They have to get tired of pretending one day

exbestfriend Glowing ✨🩷

↳yourusername 😐

↳francisca.cgomes 😐

↳yoursister 😐

↳charles_leclerc 😐

↳pierregasly 😐

↳georgerussell63 😐

↳carmenmmundt 😐

↳alex_albon 😐

↳lilymhe 😐

username7 Y/N AND HER COMMENT SECTION ARE ICONIC 😭

↳username8 I can't stop imagining them having a gc and she sent a screenshot of her ex best friend's comment like "you know what to do, guys" 🤣

username9 I just know Arthur is screaming crying throwing up because LOOK AT WHAT HE LOST

username10 Lol who's next? Toto Wolff?

arthur_leclerc My favorite love story is ours ❤️

view all comments

exbestfriend So happy we found each other ❤️❤️

username1 💀

username2 Alright they both have the audacity

username3 your love story is cheating on Y/n lmao

username4 Imagine they have a kid one day who'll ask mom dad how did you meet lol

↳username3 I'd be EMBARRASSED

username5 They deserve each other tbh

username6 Hey but... What if this pic and Y/n's pics were taken on the same day...

↳username7 wdym

username6 Arthur wanted to keep and eye on his ex and his brother from afar 😭

username7 it's terrible but possibly true lmao

exbestfriend I'm so sick of people judging us

↳username2 That's what you deserve, the both of you

↳username4 when actions have consequences:😮

yourusername Back at the paddock ❤️

view all comments

username1 At least she didn't downgrade right?

yoursister You guys look so good together

↳yourusername Thank you 🫶 ily

↳charles_leclerc Yes we do 😊

↳username2 Y/s/n never commented anything like this when Y/n used to post with Arthur😭

lilymhe It was nice catching up with you when the boys were playing

↳yourusername maybe next time you and Alex could come over so the boys can play some video games together

username3 Pls they're just two single mothers bonding over their toddlers being besties😭

username4 I NEED TO KNOW IF ARTHUR WAS THERE

↳username5 You crazy? Ofc he wouldn't have come, he's too scared of confrontation

username4 Okay but then what if one day Y/n and Charles get married? Will Arthur just skip his brother's wedding?

username5 I think some time will pass before Charles decides to settle down. And not with Y/n, that's for sure

username6 Why not? Y/n makes a much better couple with Charles than she did with Arthur

username5 Charles would never take her seriously lol she dated his brother, Charles is just having fun with her while letting her have her moment

arthur_leclerc Are you wearing the dress you wore on our first date?

↳username2 SHE'S WHAT?????

↳username3 wtf are u doing here

↳yourusername Maybe...

username4 Mother keeps slaying 😭👏

username7 I aspire to be like Y/n fr

alex_albon Lily said we should have a double date

↳yourusername Let's do it then @/lilymhe @/charles_leclerc when and where

arthur_leclerc I just wonder when will you get bored of this

↳yourusername Bored of what exactly? Going to races? You know I've always enjoyed looking at cars go vroooom

arthur_leclerc You know what I mean

arthur_leclerc Of pretending to like Charles just to prove me some delusional point

yourusername You really think I'd waste my energy on that? It's a funny coincidence indeed, but I do like him actually

arthur_leclerc Mhm sure I give you maybe 6 months more, can't keep pretending forever

charles_leclerc A family gathering & the morning after

view all comments

username1 OH GREAT HEAVENS

pierregasly Now that's something none of us expected

↳username2 bro speaking facts

username3 They said fuck you Arthur you'll get a proof we're not pretending😭

username4 Well at least the family already knew her

↳username5 Pascale liked Y/n so much she said girl you have my blessing no matter which one u marry

username3 Guys do you think Arthur was there? You know, it's a family gathering, so he had to be there, right?

alex_albon Charles settling down wasn't on my bingo card this year

↳lilymhe Neither was it on mine but I love it

francisca.cgomes Girl you realize there's no going back now? 😂

↳yourusername I hope so😜🫶

arthur_leclerc I still can't believe how disrespectful you both are

↳charles_leclerc Look who's speaking of being disrespectful

↳yourusername stfu arthur maman literally had to kick you out of the party

username3 The way it used to be "Thurthur" and now it's "stfu arthur" 😶

username2 at least the "maman" is the same right

username5 I feel like Pascale likes Y/n more than she likes Arthur

username7 wtf guys PASCALE HAD TO KICK ARTHUR OUT OF THE PARTY 😭😭

↳username8 That's crazy, imagine how's the wedding gonna look like

carlossainz55 Getting engaged after a few weeks? Is she pregnant?😂

↳username9 Not funny

username10 Chill that's just millennial humour from back when pregnancy outside marriage was a disgrace

↳charles_leclerc We've known each other long enough to make this decision 🫢

carlossainz55 Valid point

arthur_leclerc But for majority of this time she was my girlfriend

charles_leclerc On which you cheated

arthur_leclerc @/yourusername did you use me just to get to Charles? Was it your plan from the beginning?

↳yourusername Sure because I have nothing else to do lmao

↳yourusername We've talked about it yesterday arthur, don't start again

arthur_leclerc I just still can't believe Charles would do something like that to me

yourusername And half a year ago I believed you wouldn't have ever cheated on me

charles_leclerc I said it yesterday and I'll say it again, Arthur I will always love you as a brother, but you messed up big time, you can't be mad at us

[nathaslosthershit]

A Much Needed Interview (OP81)

(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.

“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.

‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.

“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”

“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”

“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”

“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time. 

“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”

“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.

“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.

“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”

“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.

“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”

“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”

“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”

“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”

“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”

“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”

“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.

“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”

“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”

The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family. 

Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.

Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.

“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.

“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?” 

In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.

Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.

[star-sim]

my love (mine all mine) ☆ jake sim

☆ non-idol! jake x fem! reader ☆ summary: after years of abuse, jake is afraid of love, so why do you have to be so warm? ☆ genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, implied adult! au, very domestic ☆ warning(s)? domestic violence and abuse, poor parenting, 1 mention of self harm, implied mention of suicide, kinda indulgent sorry ☆ word count: 1.5k

The earliest memory that Jake had was the sound of porcelain plates crashing against the tiled kitchen floor, and the wails of his mother. 

For a period of time, it was all that he could remember: going home to a cold house, hand-in-hand with his older brother, his heart pounding in his chest as his young mind wondered if Dad was going to hurt Mom again, or if they'd go back to loving each other tonight. 

He couldn't have been any older than nine when he experienced the wrath of his father first-hand, when he came to school in May wearing a long-sleeve shirt and long pants as if the early-summer weather wasn't rising, the scent of citrus filling the air. Sure, the bruises, and later scars (because of course, his father just had to try to stab him with a broken beer bottle), hurt, but nothing would compare to the silence that rang through the house after a screaming match. It would pierce his ears every single time, so loud that it was deafening, yet so silent that Jake could hear every single breath that his mother took as she pulled at her hair, driving blades into her skin, ignoring the quiet rumble of her child's stomach. 

He'd gone to bed hungry many times. Too many times.

But, perhaps the worst memory that Jake had was the morning after his seventeenth birthday. Jake spent his birthday outside the house, not wanting to be suffocated by the taste of salty tears and domestic violence in the air. He came back late, much later than he should have. 

Thank god, neither of his parents were home, and his brother was already off to college by then. When they weren't screaming at each other, physically assaulting their son, or neglecting him, his parents were either off to work, or hanging out with their sketchy friends, drinking all of their responsibilities (like their children) away like nothing else mattered.

Or so he thought.

Because the next thing he knew, his mother was shrieking at him, hitting him with the same hands that should have been cradling his face. And when his bastard of a father heard the commotion, it was almost like he was excited, excited to have an excuse to put his son in a chokehold. It seemed like the only time that his parents wanted to agree with each other was when they could hurt him.

As his lungs closed in on him, his choked breaths gasping for air while Jake tried to pry his father's hands off his neck, he felt light-headed, a fuzzy feeling filling his head until his body lost all its strength.

Jake swore that he would have died that night, if it weren't for the barks of the family dog.

If his perception of family, love, and marriage wasn't already warped, that early morning of his seventeenth birthday did.

He vowed to himself then and there, that he would never get married, nor would he ever start a family. 

Yet, as you held him in your arms, enveloping him with warmth as hot tears streamed down his face, Jake could feel all his resolve slipping away.

Indeed, his vow held up. It held up all throughout college and for years into his adulthood. He became known as the "single friend," the friend that was always the designated driver because he'd rather die than consume a drop of alcohol.

But then you pranced your way into his life.

You, with your beautiful face. You, with the brightest smile that he'd ever seen. You, with the softest, most gentle touch.

When you wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing tender kisses against the nape of his neck as you giggled a soft,"I love you," Jake's heart pummeled to his stomach.

It was suffocating.

His hands were clammy, so moist with sweat that he had to wipe his palms on his jeans. His chest would pound, loud enough for it to be the only sound filling his ears. His stomach twisted, a hot coil curling in his abdomen. It was nauseating.

But the worst was what he felt in his throat.

Something wicked— Something overwhelming and painful— clambered up his throat. It wrapped itself around his neck, pulling tight like the noose his mother threatened to put around her own neck. When it crawled up to his mouth, Jake nearly threw it up. He tried to swallow it down, but he gagged.

And it was already too late.

He'd already muttered the words, "I love you, too" back.

Love was terrifying. If he loved, what would happen? Would he get married, and enter a life of pure misery? 

And what if he had kids?

When Jake was angry and he looked in the mirror, he hated the way that all he saw was his father's eyes staring back at him. His mother always told him that he looked like his father anyway. 

Jake knew he wouldn't. He would never lay a finger on another person, let alone his own kin. But as days and years passed, his voice only sounded more and more like his own father's. He couldn't help the way his expressions scarily resembled his mother's, the same ones that he'd seen contort into fear, wrath, and indifference.

But here he was.

In the dark, his face was buried in your shoulder, the same ones that he'd kissed. You patted his back as he let out sobs, wet and salty tears wetting your skin.

It was another night, where you and him would hang out and flirt in your apartment, maybe do a little kissing. 

Maybe he shouldn't have laid down with you. Maybe he shouldn't have let you put your fingers in his hair, stroking it gently as he laid on your chest. Maybe he shouldn't have listened to your every word as you traced his face, muttering to him everything about him that you loved about him. He shouldn't have, he really shouldn't have. Especially when you ended it all with a kiss to his eyelids, whispering into his ear, "I can't wait to marry you one day."

Jake always did his best to contain his emotions. After all, he'd learn to do it so well because of his home life. No one had to know about his struggles.

Yet he couldn't help the wave of emotions that crashed down on his shoulders. One moment, he was smiling in your kiss, the next his face was wet.

It didn't help when you were so warm to him. You cradled his face, kissing his tears away, hands holding him like he was a piece of glass. 

"I'm scared," was all he could say.

Because that was all he felt in that moment.

Fear.

Fear, because he couldn't figure out why he was crying. 

Fear, because now all his emotions were spilling out. 

Fear, because you said you wanted to marry him.

Fear, because he, too, wanted to marry you.

You didn't let him go that night.

You stayed there with him, letting him cry into your shoulder until the sun rose. You didn't know why exactly, but the way he gripped your waist like you'd leave him was enough to tell you.

"I know, I know," you'd whispered into his ear. "I know, Baby."

All he did in response was pull you closer, and chant your name like it was a prayer, like you were his god and he was your worshiper.

Jake's favorite memory was the sound of wailing.

Not the wailing of his mother, not the wailing of his older brother, but the wailing of the child in your arms.

He could only watch with misty eyes as the small newborn clung to your chest, loud crying filling the hospital room. 

"Jakey," you said weakly, flashing him a smile. "Look what we made."

We.

That's right. 

This child was his and yours. As he held the baby, being careful not to do anything stupid, Jake stared into its crying eyes (as if his eyes weren't crying, too). 

When Jake looked at his child, he saw his eyes. He saw the same eyes that his own father gave him. He wasn't filled with fear, or anger, or guilt— he felt love. 

This child didn't have his father's angry eyes, the eyes that Jake spent his entire life believing he inherited.

No, this child had Jake's eyes, Jake's eyes that were filled with love.

You giggled softly as you watched your husband's intent and utterly fascinated gaze at your child. He snapped his head up at you.

"I love you," he blurted. He didn't say it a lot. It felt like poison on his tongue when he did, something unnatural and not meant for him. But in that moment, it felt like his entire being was made to say it. "God, I love you so much."

Yes, Jake would run. 

He'd run, and run, and run, from love. 

He'd run as far as he could, until his legs gave out.

He'd run for eternity, because he knew that one day, he'd walk to you.

[kamaluhkhan]

LONG HOT SUMMER NIGHT

pairing: luke castellan x fem!poseidon!reader word count: 8.4k chapter summary: it's the summer solstice and olympus is throwing a party! thalia notices the tension between you and luke, poseidon gives you some relationship advice and you punch the god of desire in the face. warnings: angst! jealous reader. lots of drinking. complicated relationships. reader dealing with ptsd + survivor's guilt (post-titan war). mention of injuries + blood. creepy guy pushing reader to hook up. ending is a bit steamy but no actual smut. spoilers for the entire pjo (book) series. no betrayal (au where chris was the one who sided w kronos and led the titan army) so slightly ooc luke <3 also reader is in a band called the midnight sirens and is born on the summer solstice! author's note: thank you so much for all the love for part 1!! summer is almost over and this is very much a summer series BUT summer's not over yet !!! hope y'all enjoy this one too and thanks 4 reading 💙

part 1 | series masterlist

♪: long hot summer night by jimi hendrix

mail to: 

Luke Castellan Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill 3.141 Farm Road Long Island, New York 11954

LUKE! 

I’m sitting in my kitchen right now, watching Percy make us blue blueberry pancakes and hoping he doesn’t burn down my kitchen while doing so. I caved and agreed to take him to Disneyland while he’s here and breakfast was part of the deal, but I think I might regret it later. 

We went surfing yesterday. It was Percy’s first time, but he was (unsurprisingly) amazing at it. I still can’t get over how beautiful the beaches are and the waves — gods, the waves are unreal. You’d seriously love it here. It’s like every day is summer. You have to come visit. PLEASE come visit!!!!

- [your initial]

P.S. The band and I are working on some new music, which means I won’t make it to camp again this summer. I’m sorry ;( Fingers crossed I’ll make it next year. 

P.P.S. hi luke! happy to report that i did not burn down my sister’s kitchen. anyways, can’t wait to kick your ass in sword-fighting this summer. xoxo, percy

THREE YEARS LATER 

the first time you visited olympus, you had been sent on a quest to retrieve zeus’ stolen lightning bolt, bringing luke and charles beckendorf along with you. you had missed the summer solstice deadline, but still tried to reason with the king of the gods when presenting the symbol of power, maybe calling him out once or twice along the way. before zeus could strike you down for your boldness, poseidon stepped in. the war between them was averted in fear of a much larger, looming threat; an ominous introduction for what was to come in the next chapter of your life.

another time, the gods debated whether or not they should kill you, some seeing you as a threat to their future. that was the day you accepted your destiny, not wanting your brother percy or your cousin nico to deal with the weight of the great prophecy. 

your last visit to olympus was on your 18th birthday, after helping to defeat kronos and his army. you made the gods swear to stop neglecting their kids and to allow all demigods, regardless of whether their parent was an olympian or not, to have a home at camp half-blood; to treat their children as children rather than heroes as pawns in their twisted games.

needless to say, it’s quite strange, being back here under very, very different circumstances, where the gods invited camp half-blood’s senior counsellors and staff to join in their summer solstice festivities.

it’s not every day you’ll be invited to a party on olympus; you’re determined to have a good time, to have fun. there’s already an abundance of music, dancing, food, or alcohol, and the night is just getting started.

you’re happy to be there with new and old friends, but you’re ecstatic when you see that thalia grace is there, too. 

“immortality looks good on you, t!” you compliment, raising your voice slightly over the music.

thalia preens, and you bask in her silver glow. 

“bet you wish you took the gods up on their offer, huh,” she teases. then, her eyes widen. “oh - shit! it’s your birthday! happy birthday!” 

thalia tackles you with another hug; even after all these years, she still smells like pine trees. she grabs two goblets of honeyed wine and hands one to you as you catch up. you eagerly gulp the sweet drink, until you’re reaching for another while listening to her stories about adventures she’d been on with the hunters of artemis. 

about halfway through her story about fighting off a manticore during a snow storm, a nymph appears with a platter of the ripest of fruit – sweet plums and fresh figs, tantalising pomegranates, succulent grapes and crisp apples. 

“oh my gods, this is the best apple i’ve had in my entire life!” thalia exclaims after indulging in a taste, herself giddy from a few goblets of wine. “where’s luke? he’s gotta try this — he’s always reminding us to eat more fruit. luke!” 

you hadn’t kept track of luke, at least not on purpose. you assumed he’d been off partying with van or his siblings, and, probably, avoiding you. wherever he was, thalia calls his name twice more and, like a ghost, luke appears. 

“i’m here, t.” luke’s voice is a deep, steady rumble floating above the music. his cheeks are slightly flushed, either from the heat or the drinks. likely both. “what’s up?”

“you need to try this.” thalia shoves the apple in his mouth before luke can respond. 

luke takes a bite, and some juice drips down his chin. you, in a honey-soaked haze, think about running your tongue over to catch it, but he beats you to it, wiping it away with the back of his hand. 

probably for the best.

“holy shit. yeah, it’s good.”

thalia, a sparkle in her eyes, urges you to try it as well. from across the makeshift triangle the three of you had formed, luke tosses the apple your way. you catch it effortlessly, and sink your teeth into it. 

you’ve almost overwhelmed by the burst of flavor. the fruit is just the right amount of tart to balance out the sweetness, and it’s damn near the best crunch you’ve ever experienced.

“good is an understatement,” you say after another bite. a distant memory crosses your mind. “i wonder if these are the same ones we almost got killed by a hellhound for.” 

thalia shakes her head, laughing in disbelief. “all because luke said we needed more vitamin c.”

“i was just looking out for us!” luke guffaws. “how was i supposed to know that persephone owned an apple orchard in connecticut?”

you pat his shoulder, the three of you smiling at the memory. “let’s call it an honest mistake.”

“well if annabeth had been with us by then, i’m sure that she wouldn’t have made that same honest mistake.” 

“okay, but she’s the daughter of athena —”

you let luke and thalia slip back into their playful bickering as if no time has passed. you listen and continue eating that glorious apple, enjoying how the golden glow of your shared past fills whatever distance might have grown between the three of you. 

somewhere down memory lane, luke’s amber eyes flick towards you.

“hey, you’ve got some….” without another word, luke suddenly reaches over to brush away a trail of juice with his thumb before sticking the finger in his mouth to savour the taste. he holds your gaze as he does so, and you feel a familiar kind of heat rush through your body — not from alcohol or summer sun, but from luke. 

it’s such an intimate gesture that you almost forget that you’re at some extravagant party on mount olympus, where gods and half-bloods and a whole bunch of other mythological creatures are celebrating the start of summer by essentially getting drunk together, until thalia clears her throat. 

“okay, well, seems like the two of you might want some alone time.”

luke’s cheeks grow more flushed than before, and his eyes widen as if realizing what he’d done.

“oh, we don’t need —”

“we’re not —”

you and luke both stumble over your words; thalia just smiles knowingly. 

“i’m gonna go flirt with that nymph,” she announces, pointing across the grand marble pavilion.

“i thought — doesn’t artemis sort of frown upon that sort of thing?” you ask.

“she makes exceptions on holidays. besides, i’m her favourite. you guys have fun.” thalia winks at you and walks away.

you glance at luke and, gods, there’s so much history between you. 

the time you jumped into an ocean full of sirens to save luke from drowning? you have a scar running down your forearm where one of them scratched you as you struggled to get luke towards the surface. 

or when you took turns holding up the sky while on a quest to save lady artemis and defeat the titan atlas? it’s evident in the matching streaks of grey that you each have running through your hair. whenever you see your reflection in the mirror, you remember how you couldn’t save your cousin bianca di angelo earlier that day, and how nico has had to grow up without a sister because of a promise you broke.

how about when you, luke, and one of your best friends were sent on a mission to destroy the princess andromeda, the headquarters of kronos’ army? only the two of you survived, and sometimes you can still feel luke squeezing your hand pike he did during charles beckendorf’s burial shroud ceremony while you both cried.

or when luke took a sword between the ribs for you because he, somehow, knew the one spot the curse of achilles left you vulnerable? he can only slouch for so long before the bones there start to ache.

so, yeah. there’s way too much history, and so many tangled threads, and now really isn’t an ideal time to unravel it all. 

“i’m gonna go find my dad,” you blurt out and disappear into the crowd with no real intention of finding your father. 

the once sweet apple now tastes rotten on your tongue; you rid yourself of it in exchange for some more wine. you’re determined to have fun — no pain or heartache or grief. 

you’ve all had enough of that for three lifetimes. 

summer — age 14

“sorry your birthday was ruined.” 

luke exhaled sharply when you pressed a disinfectant-soaked cloth to the wound on his leg.

“hold still,” was all you mumbled in response, brows knitted together as you wrapped the cut in gauze. 

once you were done with his leg, you moved on to luke’s hands, burned by poisonous acid. the four of you had run into a hydra earlier that night. you managed to wound it enough so you could all get away, but not before a few injuries were sustained. 

you were uncharacteristically quiet as you worked. you only met luke’s gaze to warn him before pouring some nectar on his wounds. you let luke hold your hand, tightly, as the liquid dripped through his fingers and down to yours, first right, then left. the pain was instant, seering almost as much as the hydra acid, but it was over quickly. the last thing you did was bandage each hand before getting up. 

“i’m…i’m gonna check on thalia and annabeth. i’ll take first watch.”

luke caught your hand before you got away.

“wait. you’re bleeding.” he pointed to the cut on your brow. you had been so preoccupied in making sure everyone else was safe that you let crimson liquid drip down your face. it probably stung, too, based on your grimace.

luke wiped away the blood with his sleeve, used nectar to disinfect the wound, and dressed it with a fresh bandage, working silently as you did.

“it’s still your birthday,” luke finally said once he was done. “you get some rest; i’ll take first watch.”

you gave him a small, strained smile before checking on the others. 

later that night, you stayed up with luke anyways. 

seemingly out of nowhere, you handed him your portable cassette player. luke stared at it for a moment, unwilling to comprehend just what you were offering and, more importantly, why. 

you and luke had grown accustomed to sharing things: flannels, socks, makeshift beds and scavenged food. but this —

it was your aunt’s. 

you never met your mother, who’d left you as a baby, and of course, poseidon was too busy tending to his underwater kingdom to step in as a parent. your aunt raised you as her own. and then you lost her, too. 

you kept her cassette player buried deep in your bag with some mixtapes she had made and ones you’d stolen throughout the years. when it wasn’t your turn to keep watch, luke would sometimes catch you with headphones on, looking up at the stars. 

luke liked to think he knew you well; all those subtle elements that made you — the crack of your knuckles, the cadence of your voice, the slope of your nose, the dreams of your childhood. engraved in his own personhood. bones and all. 

and, still: he didn’t know you, not entirely. 

you’d only allowed luke to listen with you once, maybe twice. he’d never forget what it was like: knees pressed together and heads just as close to keep the wires from stretching too far; you gushing about the magic of jimi hendrix, recounting memories that echoed through gentle guitar riffs; luke yearning for one more song to play, for another a wistful smile of yours to appear. luke, wishing to linger in your private oasis a beat longer before you pushed him out again and closed the door behind him. 

the one lock luke couldn’t crack: your grief, and how you carried on so buoyantly despite its weight.

well, there you were, presenting the key to luke as an offering. a sacrifice for something luke would never ask of you. 

“this….” luke swallowed the lump in his throat, refusing to look at you. he turned the device over in his bandaged hands, the metal smooth, though well-worn. “you can’t just —”

leave. you can’t just leave. you can’t just —

“hey.” 

your hand over his, forcing him to stop spiralling and look at you. 

right away, luke regretted it. a small sliver of him, however delusional, had hoped that you were joking. 

you weren’t. behind you, there was an empty space where you had previously wedged your sleeping bag. your backpack was already strapped around your shoulders, fully packed. 

“i need to leave, luke. we can’t stay together. it’s too dangerous.”

“you don’t need to —”

“there’s more of us, now,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away to rest on your thigh. “four demigods together isn’t ideal. we’ve been attracting more monsters. more deadly monsters.”

“that would happen, anyways. it always has whether it’s the four of us, the two of us, or….” 

luke stopped his sentence short, not even wanting to give you the idea to go out on your own, even though you’d probably been thinking about leaving for some time. 

you made reckless decisions sometimes, but this didn’t seem to be one of them.

“well, it’s happening more.” your voice was steady, too steady. luke imagined you rehearsing just what to say to counter the inevitable backlash. 

luke shook his head. “i’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“you almost died because of me,” you clipped. you lifted a hand to touch the bruise on luke’s jaw, but let it drop just as quickly. “you know that children of the big three cause more trouble. maybe we managed it when it was the two of us, but now, there’s more to consider. a child of poseidon and a child of zeus, travelling together. it’s like we’re asking to be killed. it’s too dangerous.”

“that’s our life,” luke snapped. “you can’t just run from it.” from us.

you faltered, looking back to where annabeth and thalia were sleeping peacefully. 

oh. he must have said that last part out loud, too. 

“you know i’m right,” is all you said.

luke could only shake his head again. because, fine, you weren’t entirely wrong. it was more dangerous — but it was danger luke hoped you’d all face, together. 

“i’ve made up my mind,” you added, an anchor in the sand.

“don’t leave.” luke’s words came out as a prayer. if he offered something, maybe you’d stay.

you paused to take a shaky breath. “this isn’t goodbye, luke. i swear to poseidon…fuck, i swear to all the gods that this isn’t goodbye.”

luke couldn’t speak. there were tears bubbling in his throat, threatening to spill. 

“so, keep this for me,” you whispered, once again placing your hand on top of luke’s. his fingers gripped your cassette player tightly, like it was the only piece of driftwood leftover from a shipwreck, keeping him from sinking into the cold, dark nothing. “you’ll give it back when we see each other again.”

a promise. 

“fine,” luke conceded, though he wanted to scream at you. he wanted to argue like little kids — petty, loud, meaningless, back and forth until tears streamed down cheeks and throats were raw. 

but, you were leaving, one way or another. luke didn’t want this shared memory to be tainted if it might be your last.

“you have to take this, then. give it back when we see each other again.”

luke removed the chain from around his neck, the one that held the key to his childhood home. he placed it around yours, instead.

he didn’t need the key now, but his mother had given it to him when he was six. before he knew what it meant to be the son of hermes, god of thieves. 

call him sentimental, but luke had kept it. just in case he ever got lost. 

“if you’re ever back in connecticut, you have a home.”

“yeah, okay.” you smiled softly. 

it fell just as quickly. 

“take care of them,” you told him. “of yourself, too. i’ll see you again when it’s safe.”

luke didn’t ask when it would be safe, because the truth is that it might never be.

“because you want your cassette player back?” luke joked, instead trying to lighten the mood, to capture one last moment of brightness.

you laughed softly to not wake the others. 

“yeah. that too.”

you pressed your forehead to his, something you hadn’t done since you were kids. 

“i’ll see you again,” you repeated.

without another word, you got up and jogged away. luke shut his eyes, refusing to see you become nothing but a shadow. 

(you looked back several times, but he couldn’t see through the darkness.)

now

call the gods out on their bullshit (you encourage it), but if they have one thing going for them, it’s that the olympians know how to throw a party. 

the night grows darker, yet somehow becomes more lively. demeter and persephone had supplied a generous amount of fresh, decadent fruit, and dionysus an even more generous amount of wine. apollo starts a karaoke corner and you’re just tipsy enough to agree to sing a duet with him in order to break the ice. apparently, he’s a big midnight sirens fan and had seen your band when you headlined at glastonbury festival. you smile to yourself, imagining your bandmates’ faces if you told them that the god of music had watched you perform.

as you hand the microphone to a giggling dryad, the sound of your name washes over like gentle waves on a shore.

“if it isn’t my sweet, summer child!” your father brings you in for a hug and an ocean breeze engulfs you — salt and sand and sun. 

“hi dad,” you exhale as you pull away. 

you hadn’t seen each other in a while, but poseidon looks the same. he’s dressed in a turquoise hawaiian shirt and birkenstocks with a crown of seashells on his head. there’s a cocktail umbrella in his glass, a slice of pineapple wedged onto the rim. you’re about to ask him how he managed to secure a pina colada and where you might find one, too.

“that was quite the performance!” poseidon takes an eager sip of his drink, green eyes sparkling like sea glass in the sun. “i must tell you: your newest album is all the rage in atlantis. the nereids and merpeople can’t seem to get enough of it and, truthfully, i find myself playing it on repeat as well. you’re quite talented.” 

you try not to let your shock slip through, instead smiling and asking how things are in his underwater kingdom, but you’re….touched at your father’s unexpected praise.

the gods aren’t perfect, and your father is no exception. they’re divine beings who have time to conceive children, but not to raise them. there’s a long history of them abandoning, mistreating, and manipulating their own offspring. of course, being the prophecy child, it became practically impossible for your father to ignore you; you’re sure that being dubbed the saviour of olympus gives him bragging rights with his immortal family. even with their sworn promise to change, it’s impossible not to resent the gods in some ways. 

still, you feel comforted by your father's presence at times — when you catch the perfect wave on your surfboard, for example, or when you sit on your fire escape during a storm after a bad day. it’s been like that pretty much all your life: poseidon there in spirit, not in practice. despite everything, he’s watched over you, and percy, throughout the years.

and here poseidon is now, grinning at you like you’re his pride and joy. 

“enough about aquatic politics.” he pats your shoulder enthusiastically after telling you about the struggles of keeping humans from overfishing. “i came over to wish you a happy birthday. and to give you this.” 

poseidon reaches into the pocket of his shirt and hands you something you’d long thought gone: a leather cord with several clay beads and a silver key.

“i found it off the california coast,” he explains. “i kept meaning to get it to you, but i suppose time has a way of getting away from us, immortal or not.”

a warmth grows in your chest as you run your thumb over your old camp necklace, bright and full. it had fallen off one day when you’d gone surfing, and you assumed it was lost to the ocean. you'd been given a fresh leather cord when you arrived at camp earlier this summer, but it felt empty. hollow.

“thanks, dad.” 

you smile at him as you put on the necklace; it feels like coming home. your father then asks you about your summer so far.

you tell him all about your life as of late, until you catch a glimpse of luke with van on a marble bench at the other end of the pavilion. van is sitting in luke’s lap, and they lean over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. 

you freeze mid-way through your sentence.

sensing the shift in mood, poseidon frowns. he turns his head to follow your gaze.

“ah.” poseidon turns back to you and clears his throat. “now, i don’t mean to pry, but i saw you earlier with the castellan boy.”

you flush at the fact that your moment with luke was witnessed by your own father. “dad —”

“did you know in ancient greece, throwing someone an apple and having them catch it is considered a marriage proposal?”

“i’m pretty sure that was disproven,” you scoff.

poseidon raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused. “which one of us was actually there, hm?” and though you roll your eyes, you can’t argue with that. “i just wanted to know if there was a wedding happening in the near future.”

you almost choke on the last remnants of your wine. “dad.”

“i’m kidding. i’m kidding! mr. castellan seems otherwise occupied.” 

“yeah, it does seem that way,” you grumble.

poseidon puts a hand on your shoulder, firm but reassuring. “regardless: if you find someone who would go to tartarus and back with you, someone who would fight alongside you every step of the way, you hold on to them. there’s only so much time you mortals have on this earth.”

you sigh — easier said than done — but your father is trying, so you manage a nod.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

“now, i better go — ” poseidon looks over your shoulder, where the air behind you starts to feel staticky. “it seems a disagreement is brewing between zeus and hades. they always get into it whenever dionysus makes the wine a bit too strong. brother, put away the lightning bolt —” and he rushes away to prevent another divine conflict from arising.

left to your own devices, you venture over to the food table, finding an array of fresh and dried fruit, breads, cured meat, fresh oysters and, of course, more wine. you grab a goblet and a few dried figs.

“careful, i heard dionysus made the wine extra strong tonight,” someone warns, creeping up beside you. the voice is soft and alluring, and you feel something tug at your heart. 

you do a double take when you turn to them; the person is devilishly handsome, a golden aura paired with a golden smile. 

(you will soon find out that the god flirting with you is the son of ares and aphrodite, the latter of which takes the appearance of whoever the onlooker loves. as it turns out, her son appears in the same way. 

all this to say: it doesn’t mean anything that this god looks like luke castellan to you. 

it doesn’t mean anything at all.)

“i’m eros.”

“hey. i’m —”

“i know who you are, savior of olympus.” eros winks at you. “i just never realized you were so beautiful.”

your cheeks heat up as you take a sip of your drink.

oh, shit. 

okay. the literal god of desire and pleasure is flirting with you. 

you’re flattered, really, and maybe the wine has gotten to your head, but you’re not eager to turn him away.

“well, i’ve definitely heard about you, and the rumors do not do you justice,” you quip, painting on a flirtatious smile.

eros puffs out his chest, clearly pleased. 

over the next few minutes, you decide that eros can hold a decent conversation, asking you the classic first date questions about your likes and dislikes, and he’s cute enough that you wouldn’t mind things going further. 

(he might be a god, but he’s no luke. you push that thought away, and force yourself to flirt with helios. eros. right, eros.)

eros leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze drop every so often to the deep v-neck of your shirt.  

“no way! 13 going on 30 is a classic,” you argue. you nudge your shoulder into eros’s playfully, and let the contact between you linger. eros, the inspiration for cupid himself, has angel wings, and you feel them brush softly against your burning skin. 

“it’s totally overrated!” eros exclaims. “also, the childhood friends to lovers trope gives people false hope.”

“it’s not false hope. it’s about the buildup to their happily ever after,” you reason, swallowing some wine to dislodge the lump in your throat.

eros shakes his head. “trust me, baby, it’s all about the instant attraction. that’s where the excitement is.” 

he’s so close now, you can smell the sharp alcohol on his breath. not wine, but something stronger.

“oh? what do you mean by that?” you lean impossibly closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

eros smirks, placing a hand on your thigh. “want me to demonstrate?” 

not even a second after you whisper a yes, eros crashes his lips onto yours, and you will yourself to kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. 

you’re making out with the god of desire and passion, so, objectively, it’s a good first kiss: soft around the edges and firm where it needs to be.

sure — you feel nothing, no real spark, but it’s almost enough to fill the hole in your heart in the shape of a certain son of hermes. 

the son of hermes who has moved on and is in a loving relationship with a perfect emotionally available partner. 

so, it’s fine. 

this, this thing with eros, is fine. 

you’re fine.

eros pulls away first, but keeps a hand on your cheek.

“let's get out of here.” 

he grabs your wrist before you have a chance to answer. you stand up, let him weave you through the crowd towards the stairs of the pavilion. apparently, his room is just through the garden. 

as he tugs you along, he looks back at you, smiling. under the glow of the stars, eros looks just like luke, except it’s becoming harder to ignore that he isn’t luke and that makes you feel all sorts of nauseous. your camp necklace weighs on your chest and, in particular, the silver key that you’d kept for all those years burns through your skin. 

lightheaded, you pull away from eros’ grip just as you reach the top of the stairs and place a hand on the column next to you to steady yourself.

eros turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just…keep talking here.”

eros grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” his tone is ever-so-gentle, but there’s an edge behind his words. 

this time, your voice comes out more assertive. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“come on, baby, don’t you wanna experience what real passion is? this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that a million girls would kill for. you’d be an idiot to pass it up.” he brags, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose, god or not. 

“i don’t care,” you snap, struggling to break free from his grip. “and i’m not your baby.”

“okay, whatever,” eros rolls his eyes, but quickly plasters on an arrogant grin. “we’ll go somewhere private and i’ll call you whatever you want.”

he manages to drag you down two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage and use your strength to rip out of his grip, forcing eros to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he snaps, whipping his head around once more. 

he looks nothing like luke, now.

“just stop, eros.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little kid. so much for being the savior of olympus. “trust me, i know what people want, so you don’t have to be shy. i promise to be the best you’ve ever had —”

“eros, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s percy, giving eros one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. percy, your little brother who talks to lonely fish at the aquarium; who, if you cut open, would bleed blue m&m’s; who would never let anyone, god or otherwise, hurt someone he loves. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my sister.”

“mind your own business, kid,” eros hisses. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you down another step, but you stand your ground.

annabeth, no longer the scared little seven year old you, luke, and thalia found behind a dumpster, is also glaring at liam from the top of the stairs. one of her hands rests firmly on her belt, where she keeps her dagger. 

“i’d back off, if i were you,” she warns. “wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“just mind your own business,” eros snarls.

“they said leave her alone,” thalia asserts, walking over once she sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” she clenches her hand into a fist.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” percy orders. “my sister can do a lot better than a minor god with a major god complex.” 

eros growls, baring his teeth at percy. “you impertinent little shit.”

as soon as eros lunges for your brother, you tug one of his wings towards you, hard. he whips around and you take the opportunity to punch him in the face. he doubles over, golden ichor gushing from his nose.

“i’d be careful if i were you, baby,” you seethe. “you wouldn’t want to go up against the demigods who led an army against kronos and won. unless, of course, humiliation is a kink of yours.” you laugh humorlessly at the way eros scowls at your words. “to each their own,” you continue. “but i’m not in the mood to fuck an entitled creep with angel wings to compensate for his tiny dick. you better fucking respect that, and leave us alone while you’re at it.”

eros’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only entitled, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a few blows to their ego. 

call it stupidity or arrogance, but his only response is a punch delivered right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but percy manages to reach out and catch you before you fall down the stairs. he holds you as thalia and annabeth create a barrier between you and eros. you hear them shouting at eros over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is suddenly all fuzzy. percy tries his best, but you slump your body weight into his and he almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” luke’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. “from what i remember, you were too much of a coward to even step foot on the battlefield, so i’d listen to her if you know what’s good for you.” in a haze, you guess that luke is directing his sharp words towards eros, before turning to the others and instructing: “you guys take care of this — find clarisse if you need back up.”

somehow, you find yourself over in a small secluded temple, sitting on a window bench overlooking the clouds as luke sits next to you.

like most of olympus, the building is made of marble with gold accents; this one has roses engraved on the walls, and the space smells like flowery perfume. it’s much quieter than the pavilion, though you can hear laughter and music in the distance. it’s cooler, too, but not by much; even without all the body heat, you're left with sticky summer air, and luke’s breath on yours, sweet with wine and ripe fruit, as he carefully examines your injury.

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him after all) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

“thought the curse of achilles would protect you from nosebleeds.”

“guess it doesn’t protect against —” what did percy call eros? “ — minor gods who have major god complexes,” you recite.

luke looks slightly amused. “that’s a shame,” he hums. “would have been nice to get one birthday without being injured.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the dull ache from your nose.

“you remembered.”

“of course i remember,” luke almost scoffs like the mere suggestion of forgetting what day you were born is an insult to his very character. he meets your gaze, and you could melt when he offers you that lopsided smile of his, painfully familiar. “happy birthday, aquagirl,” and it’s the softest he’s spoken to you in a while. just like old times.

he remembers. 

somewhere within him, luke holds on to fragments of you.

he wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of his silk white button-down now stained crimson. “how’s your hand?” he asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

“i guess all those years away didn’t change anything. still willing to put a god in their place, huh?”

all those years away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, and you’re worried that it might burst the comfortable bubble you and luke had drunkenly stumbled into. 

thankfully, luke continues:

“the kids really take after you.”

he says as a joke, mostly, but there’s a sincerity in those deep brown eyes of his, too. something you also hadn’t seen from him in a while. 

the kids, who you’d in some ways raised together when monsters were trying to kill you and the gods didn’t care enough to stop it. 

the family you and luke had built together despite being born into the world of greek tragedies. 

“as if annabeth wasn’t threatening to pull the dagger you gave her, skywalker,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “besides, they’re not kids anymore.”

“yeah.” he pauses. “neither are we.” 

luke’s fingers trace your camp necklace, brush against your collarbone. the breath hitches in your throat.

here you are again, at the edge of something real and very scary, and you fear luke is going to push the two of you over. 

but he doesn’t. instead, luke suggests, jokingly: “maybe we should start a fight club at camp.” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s hoping to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it. before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re practically ignoring each other.

where you’re fine, but really. 

you snort. “chiron and mr. d would love that.”

“like they’d ever find out!” luke explains. “you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

luke laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

and that’s the thing that really, truly gets you. 

try as you might to ignore it, some days it’s hard to forget the pain and heartache and grief. 

you still feel like your life is a battlefield; you still see the ghosts of everyone you couldn’t save even though people call you a savior; you still have those scars, inside and out, that seemed healed but ache every once and a while. 

but that isn’t all. 

sometimes it hurts more thinking back to the good times and knowing, deep down, you can never go back.

summer — age 13

“ugh — you think with all their power, the gods could help stop global warming,” you groaned, swatting away a mosquito that tried to land on you. “do you think they have air conditioning on olympus?”

“oh, for sure,” luke quipped. he gave you a lopsided smile, his curls sticking to his forehead, drenched in sweat. 

it was the summer solstice, the longest and the hottest day of the year so far. the two of you had found a perfectly good hideout, but luke insisted that this place would be worth the move. 

he’d been leading you down side streets for what felt like forever. the sun had already set, and you were very close to passing out from the heat, until luke finally stopped at a door behind an alley, with a sign reading CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS. 

luke knelt down to do whatever son-of-hermes lock magic he had to do to get the door open. he flipped a switch, and you winced at the sudden overwhelming brightness. 

the destination was different than the hideouts you usually sprung for: those small, hole-in-the-wall type places. instead, this space was big and bright, filled with arcade games and fun posters and neon colours. the type of place a kid might have a party or where a group of normal teenagers might spend their friday night. 

“what…what is this?”

“you thought i forgot, didn’t you?” luke smirked at you. he sat down on the colourful carpet, taking out some snacks, a small plastic bag with coins, a wrapped box, and a plastic blue crown, and gestured for you to join.

you did, in fact, think that luke had forgotten your birthday. 

birthdays were bittersweet for children of gods, who were constantly reminded that any year could be their last, their youth cut short by monsters or prophecies or a fatal flaw. all the two of you usually did on either birthday was split any sweet treat you could get your hands on. 

it wasn’t a big deal, really, to skip that tradition of yours. there were much more urgent things to worry about, like finding food and water and shelter, and not being devoured by monsters. 

you did think it was strange that luke hadn’t so much as said happy birthday to you all day, but you knew that he loved you.

(like a friend loves a friend. nothing else, no matter how much your stomach fluttered at the thought of him.) 

“i wanted to surprise you,” luke explained once you claimed your spot next to him. he reached over to place the crown on your head. “i found this place a few days ago during a food run. it reminds me of where we had your —”

“eighth birthday party, yeah.” you smiled at the memory of running around and feeding quarters to every machine and trying every game, of your classmates singing happy birthday to you off-key before you all stuffed your faces with sickly sweet confetti cake. 

truthfully, you never thought about having another celebration like that again.

but, it was five years from that faded childhood memory, and luke was presenting you with something you didn’t even realize you had needed: the chance to be a kid again.

“so,” luke got up, a wide smile on his face. he held the plastic bag in one hand, extending the other to you. “which do you wanna play first?”

you started with space invaders, then moved on to dragon’s lair and pac-man. you took a break before street fighter ii so that luke could ceremoniously light a candle and present a cupcake that had been tossed around in his bag (but you were still very, very grateful for), along with fresh batteries for your portable cassette player. he had made you a mixtape too, though you couldn’t figure out how. 

your last stop was a photobooth. you vowed to keep those pictures — a collection of you and luke together, smiling bright and colourful, goofing off and laughing — for the rest of your life.

now

those moments from past summers are like popsicles melting in the sun: tangible for a limited time before leaving you with a sickly sweet mess of what once was. 

you think about what happened earlier, how percy, annabeth, and thalia stepped in to protect you, still the brave kids you had once known so well. how luke is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve silently agreed to give each other the cold shoulder. 

maybe luke is right. maybe all those years away didn’t change anything. 

except — once you leave this temple and the alcohol leaves your system, it won’t be the same. 

none of you are kids anymore, if you ever even were. 

“why’d you go for eros, anyway?” luke asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes his sleeve from your nose since the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. most gods are assholes. and you’re…” luke places a hand close to your leg, pinky finger brushing your thigh. “you.”

“i went for eros because….well, honestly, i don’t think i cared who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with luke is running out. 

luke’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s close enough that he’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on luke’s — messy and urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you move to straddle his waist. you taste wine on his tongue, and maybe a hint of sweet pears, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him. luke’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“luke,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

luke wipes away the blood with his thumb. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s an echo of footsteps on the marble floor. a flower nymph, there to leave an offering and let you know that, while aphrodite encourages acts of love, she prefers it doesn’t happen in her place of worship. 

you realize that aphrodite also might not look so fondly at you kissing someone else in her place of worship after publicly rebuking her own son.

luke untangles himself from you, and you know that he’s been jolted back to reality, too. 

and, just like that, another moment has melted away.

your father was right. time has a way of slipping away for us, immortal or not.

summer — age 18

“hey, you awake?”  

“yeah,” you replied softly. sleep hadn’t been easy, in the days and weeks and months leading up to that final battle with kronos and his army. 

and once it was all over? 

you rested your head on luke’s shoulder, sword discarded at your feet and armour half-removed, as argus, the hundred-eyed security guard of olympus, drove a school bus with a dozen or so demigods back to camp.

“why’d you turn down their offer?” luke whispered.

oh.

"why...why do you ask?"

"i don't know." luke paused. "just curious, i guess."

you closed your eyes and replayed that moment on olympus when you refused the gift of immortality. the look of shock written on the gods’ faces. and on luke’s.

“i don’t care about living forever,” you told him bluntly.

forever seemed too long, especially for someone who was prophesied to die at 18.

you tilted your head up to meet luke’s gaze, and his messy curls brushed against your forehead. evidence of the battle was clear on his face: caked-on dirt and blossoming bruises and dried blood. 

behind him, outside the bus window, the world was flying by. a child who had fallen off their bike being comforted by a friend. two people sharing an mp3 player and a pair of earbuds. an elderly couple walking their dog.

“you once told me that this was our life,” you continued, gesturing towards the weapons and battle-worn kids, some quiet, others crying, many injured. “what if it didn’t have to be?” 

luke furrowed his brow. “do you mean….are you talking about leaving?”

you shrugged. running from monsters for your entire childhood then being the child of the great prophecy was a lot.

a break might be nice.

there was so much about the world, the one you’d fought and bled to protect, that you wanted to experience. 

maybe something closer to a normal life.

“would you ever leave camp?” you wondered, not really answering luke's question. 

“no,” luke replied instantly. his fingers started fiddling with the beads on his necklace. “i can’t just walk away, not after everything.”

“yeah, i get that.” and you did; you really, truly, did. the guilt of wanting to leave camp curled in your stomach like a venomous snake. you took a shaky breath. “let’s talk about this later, yeah? i’m tired, and we have the rest of — ”

the rest of the summer slipped away in the blink of an eye. gone, before you even had a real chance to say goodbye.

you closed your eyes and held on to luke, as if gripping his arm would anchor you to something you weren't ready to let go of, but in some ways needed to move on from.

it was no use, though. 

by the end of august, you’d be gone too. 

now 

you learned early on that the curse of achilles doesn’t protect you from hangovers.

you wake up the morning after the celebration on olympus with a deep, throbbing pain lodged in your temple and an uncomfortable swirling in your gut. parties and late nights at bars are common on tour, which means migraines are, too, so you have a routine to make sure you’re not out of commission for too long.

except this time, the aspirin and blue gatorade and dry toast don’t work. the sting in your brain and uneasiness in your stomach doesn’t go away, even after a few days. you haven’t been able to sleep, either.

desperate for a cure, you consult lou ellen, head counsellor of the hecate cabin, who you’d unexpectedly grown close to in the past few weeks. she mixes something for you, while asking if there’s something that’s been weighing on you.

you couldn't keep it in anymore; you tell her about the summer solstice and luke.  

later, with nothing but your thoughts and percy’s snoring occupying your time post-curfew, you grab your phone and flip it open, deciding to finally reach out to luke, when you get a text from him.

luke is already on the beach when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you sit next to him on the sand, but not too close. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell anyone that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, word travels fast around camp, and i don’t want van finding out. it’s not like it meant anything.”

the throbbing in your brain becomes a sharper sting, the uneasiness in your stomach a tidal wave of nausea.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to luke’s stoic demeanor.

luke shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with eros happened…we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing?” the word tastes bitter in your mouth.

luke turns away before he answers. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he sighs. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. whatever you came here for, it's not here for you. there's nothing to go back to. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, luke.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay luke’s words as you crawl into bed, holding back tears so as to not disturb percy. finally, you swallow a generous amount of whatever concoction lou ellen had brewed up for you.

drifting off into your own sleep, you decide that you don’t love luke anymore. not as a friend, not as a.....

nope. 

according to luke, there's not even anything to go back to.

nothing.

nothing.

[talaok]

What did daddy teach you?

Pairing: Step-dad!Joel Miller x Step-daughter!reader x Step-uncle!Tommy

Summary: Joel has decided you need to have practice with other men. Thankfully Tommy is more than happy to step up for the task.(this is part of a series but can be read alone)

Warnings: oh boy, step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence: dub-con, Perv!Joel, Perv!Tommy, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| oral sex (m receiving), face fuking, he forces you down for a bit too long, handjob, 1 slap, anal play, unprotected p in v sex (one right after the other), spanking, hair pulling, coming on face, creampie, degradation (slut, whore), praising, Tommy's mean and rough, and of course loads of daddy-kink.

This is a dark fic, so please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don't like what you see.

a/n: I should be institutionalized

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3

Mom had gone away on some kind of business trip for this weekend, and normally, that wouldn't have been a reason for you to be particularly happy, but now, with everything that happened in the past month it meant only one thing: Joel could teach you all about making love for two full days.

You were so incredibly excited it was kind of funny.

You had done all your homework already so that nothing could distract you or take time away from your lessons, and immediately once you came home you had changed into the special clothes you only wore for Joel-this time he'd bought you a little tiny dress, not the usual skirt.

It was the kind of white that was basically transparent, especially being you couldn't wear anything underneath it, and it wasn't like it covered much anyway... as always at least an inch of your ass wasn't covered by the fabric, and the top of it was very much more low cut than what you were used to,

But that's the way daddy liked it, and as he was always reminding you, it was healthier for your skin anyway,

Just as you were sitting down on the couch, the doorbell rang.

"Hi babygirl"

"H-hi"

"Hi sugar" Tommy's smirk matched Joel's, the devil lurking behind those eyes- and your heart dropped at the sight.

What is he doing here?

Why is he here?

It was supposed to be just you and Joel- You didn't know he was gonna be here- you were- oh god-

you looked down at your clothes and immediately went to cover up, your arms doing a poor job of shielding your body from their ravenous gaze.

They were eating you with their eyes, and perhaps even enjoying seeing how panicked that made you.

"I-I'm sorry" you gulped, as they stepped inside and closed the door behind them "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd be coming Uncle Tommy"

Tommy's grin only widened, his eyes making little to no effort to avoid falling to your cleavage.

"is that the way to greet your uncle now?" he tsked

Joel chuckled beside him, but you were so mortified you didn't even hear him

"I-I'm sorry I just- I- I should c-change"

It seems Joel was gonna let his brother do all the talking

"why's that?" he frowned, taking a slow step towards you "you look real damn good sweets... ain't there no need to change"

"b-but" your eyes shifted to Joel only to find him already watching you

But only daddy can see me dressed like this

But it's against the rules

"c'mere sugar" was all Joel said

You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel relieved to be walking away from Tommy and his gaze

"W-what's going on daddy?" you whispered, although Tommy could very well still hear,

You were only a few steps away from him, but his focus was entirely on something else as you offered him a sneak peek of your ass

"I-I thought you'd be teaching me another lesson today"

his hand found your back, pushing you flat against him, and your hands went to his chest.

"daddy" you tried to warn him, but he was already kissing you, his lips soft and rough at the same time against yours.

You heard a soft chuckle coming from your left, and you swore you squeaked in surprise.

What is he doing?

Tommy can see us!

"daddy I-" You stole a glance at his brother and found him palming the front of his jeans "he can see us"

Finally, Joel decided to explain, not wasting an opportunity to laugh softly at your naivety first.

"Uncle Tommy's here for you sweetheart"

You could only frown, looking up at him again

"He's here to help you out"

What does that even mean?

daddy's already helping you

"with what? Y-You-"

He smirked, as his thumb traced your lips

"You see baby" he murmured, "You know me well now, you're used to me, to how I do... things" he explained "but a woman needs to be prepared to make love with men even if she doesn't know how it'll be" he said " when I said men like women with experience, I meant experience with different men too, with different mouths and fingers and cocks, you understand?"

You didn't think you did, not fully, but you still nodded.

"now I'm not saying that what you and I do ain't important, because it's real important for you sugar" his eyes were so honest and kind you were starting to forget all about the shock from moments ago "You still have a lot to learn, and I'm happy to help, but today... today Uncle Tommy was kind enough to agree to help me help you out"

You swallowed thickly, focusing on his strong hands on you and your beating heart

If Joel trusts Uncle Tommy, then I trust him too, you thought

"B-but you're still gonna be here right?"

The way he stroked your cheek said everything you needed to know, but he still spoke it into kind, gentle words, as if you'd made him happy by expressing your need for him to be there.

"of course, I'll be right there the whole time baby girl" he promised, softly caressing your back as he raised his chin to point at his brother "How 'bout you show Uncle Tommy how grateful you are he's helpin' you out now?"

You looked up at Joel, your eyes wide with excitement and nervousness while your hands gripped the shirt covering his chest

"I won't bite" Tommy's amused remark startled you.

He was right beside you now, and you hadn't even noticed him moving.

Some of his curly hair had fallen to his forehead, and his hands were in the front pockets of his jeans, patiently waiting for you to accept the offer, although judging by the big bulge in his crotch, it was taking all his self-restraint

Which it definitely was.

He'd wanted to fuck you since Joel first introduced you that 4th of July of what must have been a year ago.

And when his brother had told him of what he'd managed to convince you to do this past month... he didn't think he'd ever been more jealous in his entire life.

Which is why he decided that a few other words of encouragement wouldn't have hurt.

"c'mon sweetheart" he invited "give your favorite uncle some sugar"

And it would have been a lie to say you didn't want to,

Tommy really was your favorite uncle, and it's not like you were blind... he was one hell of a good-looking man.

So glancing at Joel one last time, you turned toward his brother and took a step until you were right in front of him.

He looked even more beautiful up close.

You gingerly placed your hands on his chest, and he didn't even waste a quarter of a second that his mouth was already devouring yours and his hands were gripping your waist to get you flat against him.

Your eyes were still wide in surprise as he let out a low groan and infiltrated his tongue between your lips to taste all of you,

You let him, you let him explore you entirely before you finally recovered from the shock.

I mean you were used to this kind of hunger from Joel, but you expected Tommy to be a little... tamer.

Once you were back, you started reciprocating, whimpering into his mouth as you too, started to explore his.

"fuck, sugar" he groaned, grinning before he went back to kissing you, grabbing your ass as he did.

You squeaked, completely pliant in his hands as he grabbed at you and kissed you like you were his, like his brother wasn't right behind you, watching the whole scene.

And then you felt it- you felt Joel's hands replace his brother's on your waist, and then you felt his lips graze your neck, his soft breath fanning over your skin as his beard skimmed it, sending shivers all over you.

And then...

There was something so sinful about having two men, two brothers, kiss you at once,

but there was something spectacular about it too.

You moaned, like full-on moaned into Tommy's mouth, your knees buckling as your body turned to jelly.

Both men chuckled softly, their intoxicating mists all around you

"please" you whimpered as they pressed even closer to you, sandwiching you between their muscled bodies and the tents in their jeans.

"What was that?" Joel asked, kissing you right below your left ear as Tommy took care of the right side, making you squirm uncontrollably.

"Daddy-" you only whimpered

"I think she likes this" Tommy grinned, his smile one of a shark

"I think she does too" Joel agreed, both talking like you weren't there, "don't you, baby girl? Tell us how much you're enjoyin' this"

Tommy's hands had left your ass to find your tits now, while Joel's hands were busy stroking up and down your sides.

How could anyone ask for a girl's brain to work in this situation?

"I like it so much" you muttered, your voice a single thread of a whisper.

"yeah?" Tommy taunted "Where are you feeling how much you like it sugar?"

Heat rushed to your face, but Joel was quick to intervene at your pause.

"Don't be rude now sweetheart, answer Uncle Tommy's question" he said, continuing to leave hot kisses on your throat

"I feel it- Uhm- down... there" you whispered, your eyes falling to where your dress "covered" your heat.

"you mean, here in your lil' pussy?" Tommy spoke sultry as his hand found its way underneath your dress and cupped your cunt,

your bare, sopping cunt.

Tommy hissed as his digits connected with your slick folds

"mh-mh" you squeaked, both the men snickering again

"no panties, sugar?" Tommy growled, feeling himself harden with every passing second

"T-they're n-not allowed"

"'f course they aren't" he murmured, ghosting your mouth as he continued exploring your heat, thanking his brother in every language he knew inside his mind.

"poor baby" he cooed, faining pity "She's so wet"

"a-and tingly" you stuttered

"oh sugar" he cooed again "You want Uncle Tommy to take the tingles away?"

"y-yes- please"

but all of a sudden his hand was gone

"don't worry, I'm gonna take care of you later" he cooed, his wet fingers tracing your mouth "First you're gonna have to tell me a few things"

Before you had time to protest or question his words, Joel had already spoken

"let's get on the couch," he said, nodding behind him.

And in no time, the pair was sitting in front of you on the sofa, looking at you like both the front of their jeans weren't showing the perfect press of their hard-ons

"W-what do you want to know Uncle Tommy?"

The smile that split his face was almost feline.

He liked it when you called him that way too much.

"What did daddy teach you?" he asked without missing a beat.

"Oh" you whispered, feeling a wave of anxiety hit you

There was nothing wrong with what you did with daddy, you knew that- but it still felt so... personal.

"H-he's taught me a lot of things" you swallowed thickly, your fingers fiddling with the edge of your dress.

"like what sugar?"

Your gaze turned to Joel, who nodded, urging you to answer without having to breathe a word.

"I...uhm-" you bit your lip, trying to find the words while wondering where to even start "Daddy taught me h-how he can make me feel... good with his - uhm" you gulped, avoiding both the men's eyes "his f-fingers, a-and his mouth- and his... private part"

Tommy snorted like you'd just made a joke,

"His private part?" he mocked, his brows raising in defiance.

"I-" you stuttered looking at him

"we've talked about this sweetheart" Joel spoke now, giving you a pointed look

You had. He had spent a whole afternoon denying you the pleasure you were begging for until you were gonna spit out that word, and you certainly didn't want to go through that torture again.

"His c-cock"

It was such a crude word- you felt so out of place saying it.

Joel hummed in approval, while Tommy's smile spread.

"that's it?"

You gulped, shaking your head slowly.

"he-he's also preparing my other hole"

Tommy's growl was hungry.

"Daddy's trainin' your pretty asshole sweetie?"

"mh-mh" you could only nod

"that'll come real handy today" he grinned, only before you could voice your confusion, Joel had already spoken up

"Not today, she ain't ready"

Tommy'd disappointment lasted only so long

"take off your dress baby girl, show Tommy what he's gettin'"

"yes daddy" you nodded without hesitation, the command second nature at this point.

You got as far as starting to pull the top down when Tommy's voice interrupted

"slow sugar, I wanna enjoy it"

And so you did, you watched between them as you unhurriedly removed inch by inch of the dress from your body, only of course, they weren't looking back at you, their focus was on each piece of skin you uncovered, until your dress fell to the ground, and you were fully bare before them.

Tommy hadn't stopped touching the front of his jeans for one second.

"goddamn" he breathed, taking in every part of you "give me a lil' twirl, sweetie"

you did, and a little smile spread on your lips once you heard him let out a low whistle.

"bend over"

It was so weird having to obey someone else's commands other than Joel's, but you wanted to prove how good you were, so of course, you did: you placed your hands on the coffee table before you and lowered your torso until you could feel air hitting your core.

You couldn't see any of them, but you damn sure could feel their stare.

"look at that" Tommy purred "Such a pretty little pussy- so needy"

It was taking all of him not to stand up and taste you right now, and fuck but the urge only got stronger once Joel offered him an even better view.

"Spread your cheeks babygirl, let Uncle Tommy get a good look"

It took a bit of effort to support yourself without the help of your hands, but you were starting to feel desperate.

"fuck" Tommy growled "The pictures don't do her justice, man"

Your eyes widened at those words.

Joel had shown him the pictures!?

You stood up in a haze, turning around quickly.

"Y-you've seen the p-pictures? B-but-" your nerves were getting the better of your mouth "Daddy you said they were only for y-you-"

"I know what I said" Joel stopped you, his voice calm as ever "I only showed 'em to Tommy to show him your progress, to show him how good you've been this past few weeks" he explained, heat inevitably rising to your cheeks at the flattery "so that he could decide if he wanted to help you or not, get it babygirl?"

"O-oh- ok" you hummed, nodding shily.

Of course there was a reason.

"You looked real good in 'em baby" Tommy smiled "You should consider being a model"

You bit down a smile, embarrassed at his kindness

"Even the special kind" he smirked "I know I would pay good money to see all this" he said, gesturing roughly to your whole body.

Heat rushed to your cheek and neck as you bit your lip.

"Now" Tommy propped his elbows on his thighs "You've told me all about how daddy makes you feel good... but nothin' about how you make him feel good"

"O-Oh, I-" you stuttered, fiddling with your fingers behind your back

"My brother's taught you how to suck cock baby?"

"y-yes" you nodded "he did"

"good" he said, spreading his legs "whatcha waiting for then?"

"O-oh" you stuttered, giving Joel a quick look just to have him encourage you in the task, which is why you quickly moved to get down on your knees before your Uncle- well, step-uncle to be exact.

Your hands were the tiniest bit shaky as you started undoing his zipper, and when you looked up, saw Tommy's big hazel eyes looking down at you with such intensity and lust, you couldn't help but feel even more nervous,

Joel was right, you knew everything about him, about how he did all of this, but you didn't know absolutely anything about Tommy... about what you were going up against.

"she always this slow?" Tommy grumbled, looking over at his brother.

"'m doing my best, trust me, but she's a real slow learner" Joel sighed, joining his brother in his annoyance.

You were mumbling a soft "sorry", when with a grunt, Tommy had freed his cock.

You watched him wide-eyed, before panning over his dick- it was almost the same as Joel if it weren't that Joel's was a little girthier, and that he didn't have so much black curly hair at the base.

"what is it now, I need to feed it to ya too?"

He'd become so impatient... so mean and far from the kind man he was just five minutes ago.

"I'm sorry Uncle Tommy" you murmured, hurriedly starting to lick his tip, first the slit, then the whole head, until finally you took it in your mouth, gently massaging the start of his cock with your tongue.

Tommy only hummed, his hand going to the back of your head

"down" he ordered, so of course, you did.

You fed more of him into your mouth, tasting more and more of him, of his skin, the feel of his veins, of the subtle twitches he produced, until you were almost all the way, and an inevitable gag made its way out of your mouth.

But that was normal, it was very hard to get a cock all the way down your throat on the first try, daddy had taught you that, so you did what you knew worked, you started bobbing your head up and down... getting it all wet made it easier to go down your throat.

"faster, sugar"

You hollowed your cheeks, following orders and following the pace Tommy's hand forced on your head with his hand.

"that's it" he groaned "Now show me what daddy taught you, take it all down that pretty throat"

You wanted to tell him that you weren't quite ready yet, that his cock was a new one after all, but you had no time, he'd already forced you down, and you were already choking on his dick.

Tommy groaned, throwing his head back as his hips thrust up like there was any more space for him inside of you.

"Fuck" he breathed, looking down at you while talking to his brother "it's like she was made to suck cock"

"I know right?" Joel chuckled, admiring you too

"The trainin' really paid off"

"Don't I know it..." Joel grinned "Once a day- that's all it took"

"Once a day- fuck- lucky bastard"

And yes of course, in the meantime, you were coughing and choking and spitting on his cock, tears streaming down your face and staining your sight, so much you couldn't even make up what Tommy looked like anymore.

"you look so pretty like this baby" Tommy cooed, his hips still slowly rocking against you, worsening the situation almost as much as the hand that was keeping you down. "cryin' around your uncle's cock like a good girl" he groaned, talking to his brother again "don't she?"

"Looks almost as good as when she's cryin' around mine," Joel grinned as he freed his cock, taking your hand in his only to wrap it around it

"Can't forget about Daddy can ya?" Tommy chuckled, watching you absentmindedly starting to stroke him.

You were pretty sure you were about to faint at any moment now.

"Such an obedient girl" Tommy cooed, before abruptly releasing you "suck my balls now"

You were couching like a maniac, but he was already forcing your mouth close to his balls

"I-I've nev-"

"I didn't ask you to talk now, did I?"

You gulped, feeling the rest of some tears wet your cheeks as Joel guided your hand up and down his manhood

"N-no"

"What did I ask you to do?"

"t-to suck your balls"

"yeah?" he breathed "Then how come you ain't doing that yet?"

that's all the incentive you needed- you bent down and took one of his heavy balls into your mouth.

"Fuck- wasn't so hard, was it?" he groaned, feeling you lick and suck so very diligently.

He was saltier here, and it was kind of a weird feeling... daddy had never asked you to do this.

"That’s right look at me, baby," he groaned, "look at your uncle while you suck his balls- good girl"

Joel had stopped guiding you now, you were doing it all on your own.

"get back to my dick sugar, I wanna feel it down your throat again"

So you did, his hand going back to its previous position and keeping you down as you cried and gagged.

"'s good-fuck"

"babydoll-" joel's voice was stern.

You'd stopped stroking his cock, and you hand't even realized, you were too lost in the mess Tommy was making of you- so lost in fact you didn't even hear his reprimand.

Which is why the slap that Tommy gave your cheek took you even more by surprise, making you cry out.

"Daddy's cock ain't gonna stoke itself, honey"

You tried to blink the shield of tears covering your eyes, but it was all useless- you started stroking Joel again as Tommy taunted you.

"what, 's too hard to do two things at once for that lil' brain of yours?"

Joel laughed, his hips thrusting up to feel even better

"Shoulda seen her tryin' to do her homework with my cock in her pussy" Joel said, causing his brother to grin

"'s just what dick does to dumb lil' sluts" Tommy shook his head, admiring you still choking on his manhood "shuts their brain right off"

"Ain't that right..." Joel hummed knowingly.

They were talking like you weren't even there... although truth be told, you weren't actually able to comprehend most of it- your brain had turned into a fuzzy blob.

Tommy took decisions very quickly, you’d gathered that by now, but that didn’t mean you weren’t left dumbfounded all the same.

“As much as I like your mouth- it’s time i feel that pussy around my cock baby”

And just like that, he’d let you go- giving you a moment to slide his manhood out your mouth, and wipe the spit and tears off your face.

It was only a minute later, when you were done cleaning up, that you realized Joel’s cock was still in your hand.

“I-“ you breathed, shy underneath the men’s gazes “Do you want my mouth too daddy?”

He smiled proudly at you

“‘S alright- today’s about Uncle Tommy”

You nodded, slowly removing your hand and positioning it on your thighs, together with your right one.

You kneeled there, sitting on your heels, waiting for an order.

But you didn't need to wait long.

"You wanna fuck her here?"

Joel sounded as if he was talking about work

"Nah, wanna fuck her in her bed"

While Tommy sounded like he was talking about a hunt.

"you heard him doll" said Joel "lead the way"

It was such a strange feeling walking ahead of them, completely naked, completely wet, as you made your way to your room- and yet it was also thrilling.

Tommy was smirking as he looked around your room- it was exactly as he'd pictured it.

You were looking at him, at them, biting your lip nervously as Tommy rounded the space, while Joel decided to sit on the armchair in the corner next to the bed.

You were looking at Joel to try and grasp what you were supposed to be doing, what he wanted you to do, but he didn't let anything transpire.

Until finally, Tommy turned to you and walked right before you.

Your face was still damp when he grabbed it, squeezing your cheeks.

"You know what's gonna happen now sugar?"

"mh-mh" you nodded

He was gonna make love to you, you thought, but he was already wording it differently

"I'm gonna fuck you" he murmured, his mouth ghosting yours "and you're gonna be real good for me alright?"

"y-yes"

"yeah?" he taunted, his grip tightening

"Y-yes Uncle Tommy"

he let out a satisfied grunt as he let you go, leaving you to stand before him as he stripped of his clothes.

You felt your mouth water at the sight of him naked before you, and the feeling between your legs got much much worse.

his cock was throbbing against his stomach, still glistening from your mouth.

"ya like what you see honey?" he teased you, enjoying the blatant need in your eyes.

"I- yes" you murmured shily.

"bet you do- just can't wait to get stuffed can ya?" He smirked, watching the embarrassment creep up your face "Ain't nothin' wrong with it, 's normal for a lil' slut like you"

You gulped, watching him wide-eyed.

Daddy had called you that before, but it always confused you.

"s-slut?"

"well yeah baby" he cooed, his hands on your hips "you just took care of two cock at the same time, and now you're gonna get fucked back to back by the same two cocks" he shrugged, his lips right before yours "if that ain't what a slut does, I dunno what is"

"O-Oh"

"'s alright" he promised, his hands on your ass now "All that matters now 's that you got your daddy and me to take care of all your slutty needs"

You could only nod before he took a step back

"Now get on the bed" he spoke "face down, ass up"

You frowned then,

That's really not what you were used to doing, you liked eye contact, you liked kisses... you didn't want to be "face down, ass up"

"But Uncle Tommy- I- what if- I- want to look at you?"

he still seemed sweet as he looked at you, as he cooed "Oh baby", but then he'd grabbed your hair, pulling your head down, making you look at him.

"I see daddy hasn't taught you how it works yet" he growled "You're a slut, sweetheart- all you're good for is spreadin' your legs and followin' orders"

"You're not in charge here. If I tell you to get on all fours, you get on all fours- if I tell you to shut up and take it, you shut up and take it"

His grasp was strong, and your eyes were starting to water again, but all you could do was look at him as he spat those words at you.

"we clear?"

You nodded as much as you could given the situation

"say it"

"I-I got it"

He tugged at your hair as he growled in your face

"who's in charge?"

"You are"

And just like that, he'd let you go.

"face down, ass up" he repeated, and this time, you scurried towards the bed and complied.

You didn't dare look back, but you could feel Joel's stare right on your core, and hear Tommy's steps towards you.

"Jesus Christ"

Tommy had passed two of his digits through your folds, finding them completely soaked

"she always this fuckin' wet?" he asked his brother behind him

"You got no idea" he smirked "She leaves a stain on my pants every day she's so needy"

You'd be embarrassed by Joel's words if it weren't for Tommy's fingers plunging into you

"oh!" you moaned, your hands grabbing the sheets.

Finally

He was scissoring and curling his fingers, watching you convulse beneath him, pushing your ass back for more.

Your brain was already starting to get fuzzier when he pulled them out, forcing a whine out of your mouth.

Tommy only chuckled before popping his fingers into his mouth.

"she's sweet alright"

"yeah she is" Joel breathed, wishing he could be eating you out right then, but he'd promised his brother...

You were breathing ruggedly, peeking behind you in time to see your uncle smirk before grabbing his cock and sliding it between your folds.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan

"you want my cock baby?" he teased you, his tip gliding over your clit "You want my cock inside this sweet lil pussy?"

"y-yes" you whimpered

"beg for it"

You didn't need to be told twice, your pussy was fluttering by how much you needed it.

"please" you cried "please Uncle Tommy I- I need it"

"what do you need?"

"Your cock- I need it inside of me please"

And just then when you thought the torture was finally over, when he fisted the hair at the back of your head and positioned his cock at your entrance... he'd played you once again.

"'s alright baby, I got you" he murmured, sliding into you "there- it's inside now"

And he was- but only his tip.

Tears were in your eyes again. You were so fucking desperate.

"n-no please" you begged "more"

"more?" he mocked "this ain't enough? You want my whole cock?"

You tried to move your ass back to get more of him, but one of his hands was keeping you in place.

"Please!" you begged, holding back tears "I-I- please- need it"

A snicker rumbled behind you, and the hold on your hair tightened.

"what are you?"

You knew what you had to say, and you didn't even hesitate a second.

"I'm a slut"

A soft hum of satisfaction

"a lil' louder baby, let daddy hear too"

"I'm a slut daddy, I-I'm a slut"

Even if you couldn't see him, you could hear the smile on his face as Joel cooed "I know baby, I know you are"

But then it all stopped mattering, everything stopped existing because Tommy had thrust his cock into you, and all you could do was hide your face in the sheets as strangled mewls spilled from your lips.

"fuck- 's tight" Tommy groaned as he bottomed out, his dick easily sliding into you because of all the slickness, but stretching you out nonetheless

"told ya" Joel chirped in, making his brother grin before he referred to you again

"this enough for you, this what you wanted baby?"

"y-yes"

"yeah? 's good- now be a good slut and take everything I give you"

And that was all the warning he gave you, before he retracted his hips, and started fucking you like a man possessed.

The sound of his balls slapping against your skin, the squelch of your juices mixing with his, and your muffled cries together with his sick groans were the perfect picture of the most violent attempt at sex you'd ever seen.

He was splitting you open, and from this position, everything felt amplified ten times over, you could feel his cock even in your throat.

"oh my g-god" you were crying, actual tears and drool staining the sheets.

"I know baby, I know issa lot" he growled, one hand on your head and one on your hips "But this 's what you wanted- this is what a slut like you needs"

And then he was forcing your head even more down on the bed, somehow picking up the pace, and making you forget all about your name and what you were even thinking about.

"that's right, like that- take it" he grunted "Take it all in this tight fukin' pussy"

The slap on your ass came out of nowhere, and for some reason was followed by your moan, and your back arching, as if you were begging for more.

Your mind wasn't in control anymore, it was just your body, only your needs driving you.

Which is why when he did it again, and then again, and then again, until your ass was red and aching and your tears had formed a pool on the bed, your walls squeezed around him impossibly tight, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

"Good little whore" he was grinning in the meantime "scream for your uncle baby- like that baby- now stay still-"

It didn't even come to mind to ask why, your brain was too murky, and his cock was still splitting you in half- the only thing you could do was gasp when his wet thumb probed at your asshole.

"Shhh" he shushed you, still forcing your head down "just take it"

And so you did, Daddy had trained you for this kind of stuff, so it wasn't that bad, it was just very unexpected

"she's fucking obedient when she wants huh?" he was talking to Joel again, who was palming his cock through his jeans.

"she's a real good girl when she's fucked out"

"yeah she is"

He was fingering your ass with his thumb as he fucked you, and your eyes were closed as you moaned like a madwoman into the thick air.

It felt so fucking good- it felt so fuckin-

"Oh god-"

he was going faster again, and his finger was deeper now in your ass and it felt so good now that it was... it was too much-

"T-tommy" you tried to speak, but your own moans interrupted you

"sush baby- or Imma have to tell daddy to put that mouth of yours to good use"

Fuck but that image made you tighten even more, and the chuckle leaving his lips meant he definitely noticed

"found yourself a real whore brother"

You were too overwhelmed by everything you were feeling, by your stomach squeezing as Tommy's cock hit that good spot inside you, by the foreign feeling of his thumb in your ass.

"d-daddy!" you cried, begging him for help.

Only Tommy had to come in and crush your hopes immediately.

"daddy ain't gonna help you sweetie" he cooed, your eyes on the back of your head "You just gotta take what I give you, and come on my cock like a good girl"

"can you do that f'me?" he spoke, "can you come around your favorite uncle's cock?"

And there was nothing you could do- it was inevitable

"yes" you whimpered

"I can feel it baby, c'mon " he urged, his thrust even deeper now "give it to me- give it to me like a good slut"

And just like that- your vision went white as a tsunami of sick, twisted pleasure coursed through your body, leaving you out of breath and barely awake as it died down, as you finally came back to earth to realize Tommy had been speaking you for some time.

"this pussy's beggin' me to come inside brother" Tommy was groaning, and you must have been out of it for a while because Joel was now next to his brother, standing on the side of the bed

"Tell daddy how much you want my come inside ya sweetie"

both men were looking at you with pure, glistening lust in their eyes

"I-inside" you finally whimpered

"not inside darlin'" Joel shook his head,

"b-but daddy- I- I wanna be full of him"

Tommy had a really hard time not coming right there after that.

"Yeah man, c'mon" Tommy grinned, his thumb now out of you and both his hands stroking your ass "you heard your babygirl- she wants it real bad"

Joel only needed to shoot him a glance to make him shut up

"Ass, face, or tits," he told him, and although Tommy rolled his eyes, he still chose

"y'know it's face"

Before you knew it you were kneeling on the floor and Tommy was jerking off right before you.

Your mouth was open, your tongue was out, but that didn't matter much... Uncle Tommy's aim wasn't very good.

He came with a loud groan, looking down at you and the masterpiece he was painting on your face the whole time.

"You look real fuckin' pretty like this" he grinned, his voice slightly out of breath as he grabbed your chin to inspect you better.

What he didn't expect was what you did next... Daddy had taught you manners after all.

He watched you as you started collecting his come with your index finger, and then he watched you pop it into your mouth, liking his spunk from it like it was the tastiest whipped cream.

You did it until your whole face was clean, and he couldn't stop fucking smirking.

"what do we say?" You heard Joel speak from beside you

"thank you, Uncle Tommy"

He couldn't help but reciprocate your smile "Anytime baby"

Joel didn't even wait a second before he was helping you up and onto the bed again.

You sat there as Tommy replaced his brother's spot on the armchair, while Joel took off his clothes-

Yes you were spent by all that Tommy had done to you, but you'd be lying if you said your hole didn't flutter around nothing every time you saw your step-dad naked.

"lay down babygirl"

You did, and not even a second later, Joel had pushed his cock inside of you, groaning lowly as he worked himself in to the hilt.

"daddy" you gasped, his dick stretching you out as always.

"I know darlin', I know" he cooed, remaining buried inside you as he pushed you up on the bed and then crawled on top of you "such good lil' girl, takin' it so well f'me sugar"

His words melted you as always, and then when he leaned down and crashed your lips in his... you became a doll at his mercy.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arm around his neck, keeping him impossibly close.

He smiled as he leaned away

"'m not going anywhere babydoll" he smirked, his soft mouth on the shell of your ear "not until you come for me" he murmured, sending a shiver down your spine "not until I've filled this pussy all the way up"

You moaned at his words, and he smiled as he started moving, slowly picking up his pace, until he too, just like his brother, was slamming into you at a brutal pace.

You were crying out, desperately grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck, while he was kissing your neck, leaving hot, wet kisses wherever he could.

It was then your gaze somehow settled on Tommy, on your step-uncle, sitting in the corner before you, and on his insatiable eyes fixated on you.

He smirked when he caught you.

"daddy feels good baby?"

"y-yes" you moaned

"not better than me right?"

"shut up Tommy" Joel grumbled

You wanted to smile but Joel was pounding you so hard that a whine left your throat instead

"'s alright, daddy can take it, can't ya Joel?" Tommy chuckled "I can tell you miss me already baby" he cooed "miss my cock, my thumb in that pretty ass..."

Joel grunted as he picked up his pace, leaving you breathless and all but able to answer Tommy.

"Do you, doll?"

It was Joel murmuring now, a smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head, as he bashed in the feeling of having taken all common sense out of you once again.

"n-no daddy" you promised "y-you feel- so-"

But you couldn't finish the sentence, another moan had interrupted you.

"what?" he taunted, both brothers grinning at your state.

"perfect" you mumbled, eyes closing and belly tightening "s-so perfect"

"that's right" Joel smirked proudly "eyes on me darlin'"

It took a lot of effort, but you managed.

"You gonna come babydoll?"

"yes" you cried "yes daddy- please"

"'s alright, come for me darlin'"

You didn't need to be told twice- you continued looking at him as pleasure took over your body, as fireworks went off and your legs trembled desperately.

You came calling for him, and once you came back to earth, his lips were on yours, drowning the whimpers his cock was still spilling from your mouth.

"You want daddy's come, sugar?"

"yes" you begged, biting your lip as his pace got more and more irregular "Please daddy- need it deep inside me"

"All of it?"

"all of it daddy- want it all- please" you cried "fill me up"

And so he did, your moans becoming one as he shot rope after rope of his come inside of you.

He kissed you again when he was done, still buried inside you to avoid it spilling out right away- but you were in another universe, your eyes were closed and your limbs powerless.

Joel smiled then, finally sliding out of you and standing up.

You wanted to curl yourself up in a sleeping position but his hands stopped you, forcing your legs open for him and his brother to admire his work.

Tommy could only groan a low "fuck" as he took his place beside Joel.

"ain't she pretty?"

"fuckin' beautiful" Tommy murmured, mesmerized by the sight before him.

There you were, laid before him, his step-niece, completely fucked out.

"we wore her out too much" Joel's brother shook his head, his fingers caressing your thighs "I was ready for round two"

Joel's lips stretched into a soft smirk

"give her ten minutes"

"she'll fall asleep in ten minutes"

Joel's smile only widened as he shook his head

"don't worry- she's good at takin' cock even in her sleep"

[mattybsgroupie]

late night rides 2 | matt sturniolo

contents: fwb; making out; (slightly) choking; oral (f receiving); p in v; use of “y/n”; lowkey sub!matt

- ♡ -

part 1

notes: idk why you guys liked this one so much but here’s part 2 of “late night rides”! not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes but thank you so much for all the love youve been sending me and my stories, it really means a lot <3 posting earlier this week cause it’s my finals at uni! gonna be crazy busy wish me luck!! btw just wondering should i make a taglist? would anyone be interested? lol let me know! enjoy!

- ♡ -

“i told you we gotta stop doing that” i said as soon as entered matt’s car, sitting next to him.

“yeah, i heard the first time” matt giggled, never taking me seriously. “good night to you too, princess”.

“good night, matty” i responded as i buckled my seatbelt, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “what did you tell your brothers?”

“that i was going to watch a movie by myself” he said as he started the car, checking if he was good to go by the rearview mirror.

“are you?” i teased, resting my hand on his right thigh. i could see his boner from miles away and he quickly tensed the muscle on his leg as i caressed my fingers over his jeans. matt stared at me, sarcastic blue eyes answering my question. “yeah? then where are you going?”

“somewhere i can fuck you, y/n” matt raised his voice, but still kept a jokeful tone. i rolled my eyes back and didn’t bother saying anything back, turning on the radio and adjusting the sound. “you look really pretty with that dress” he said after a few minutes of silence.

“but you’re crazy to take it off aren’t you?” i giggled, but matt actually nodded his head in disapproval. “nah, gonna go underneath the skirt” he said as finally found some alley for us to park, turning the car off and removing his seatbelt. “and i won’t even have to remove your panties” matt teased me, opening his door and coming to mine.

as he opened my side of the car, i couldn’t help but laugh at him acting like a gentleman. i stood up and leaned my back on the van, matt’s hands quickly coming to my waist. he smiled before tucking my hair behind my ear, the cold wind making the strands fall over my face. matt then leaned in, softly sealing our lips.

i melted into his touch. always gentle, matt’s digits traveled through my collarbones and shoulder before stoping by my neck, wrapping his fingers around it as he deepened the kiss. my breath instantly got heavier, matt tightening his grip as i bit his lower lip. when he noticed i’d have to pull out to get some hair, he loosened it, moving his hand to the back of my head instead. matt kept placing kisses over my face, soon going over my jaw and biting my ear.

“well, i know someone who likes coming in their pants way more than i do” i had to say. he was teasing me way too much, to the point i’d let him fuck me right there - in that fucking cold weather and in public.

“i might” matt said as he looked to the tent growing on his jeans. “it’s your fault for sending me that bra pic” he confessed, getting closer to me.

“oh, so you were a naughty boy?”

“n-no” he’d always break when i called him boy. baby boy, good boy, pretty boy, naughty boy - all of these would make matt submit in seconds. “haven’t since… last time” matt hid his face from me, snuggling into the crook of my neck. i widened my eyes as i realized it had been two weeks since our last encounter.

“matt” i called, grabbing his face with both hands. his lips were pouty and his blue orbs shiny, cheeks burning red - not really sure if it was from the weather or his shyness. “you don’t have to”.

“like better with you” he cut me off with a sudden kiss, giggling as he backed off like it was no big deal. “let’s get in?” he asked, already opening the back door for me.

i lied down on the seat, much more comfortable than the front one. matt soon entered, hovering over me as he placed both of his elbows next to my shoulders. i knew he was about to burst inside his pants, so as soon as he started kissing me, i traveled my hands down his torso, grabbing his belt and playing with the cold metal.

i closed my eyes, moving one my hands to matt’s neck, tugging my fingers on his curls while the other one stood by his boner, quickly unbuttoning his jeans. i palmed him through his underwear - completely wet. wasn’t even fair trying to tease him in such a situation, aching cock begging to get some relief. as i placed my digits on his waistband, matt suddenly denied with his head. “you first” he said, completely out of breath.

“matty, you seem like you could really use some help down there, hm?” i said, slightly stroking him.

“y/n” matt called, giving a kiss on my neck “i miss you” and with each phrase, another kiss trailed down my collarbones. “your smell, your body” he stopped by my chest, looking at me with puppy eyes, “your taste”.

matt got under my skirt, exactly as he said he would. his lips brushed against my thigh, making me hold my breath and pull my dress upwards. he touched me over my underwear, playing with my clit through the cloth and moving down to my entrance. before i could even think, his teeth meet my panties and matt started to removed them with his mouth. it was painfully slow, his blue eyes staring at me as he finally took them off completely.

matt gave me a long lick, starting at my hole and stopping by my clit before circling his tongue against it, teasing me. my hands went back to his hair, grabbing the curls as i lowered my body in the back seat in order to get some more friction.

matt’s licks got sloppier, his spit mixed with the wetness of my cunt making everything messier. “matt, be a good boy” i moaned and he instantly got it. he didn’t waste time, moving his tongue to my entrance and sliding in, slowly opening my walls.

matt’s grip on my hips got tighter, trying to keep me from moving around so much. i couldn’t help but hump against his face, matt’s nose almost touching my already swollen clit. realizing how needy i was, he quickly changed positions, one of his hands getting near my pussy.

his digits were soon teasing my entrance as his tongue travelled through my lower lips before sucking my clit and making me gasp, throwing my head back for finally getting some friction. as i clenched, he slid his middle finger into my tight hole, quickening his pace at my clit.

matt started humming something i couldn’t hear properly, my mind getting fuzzy as his finger curled inside of me. the vibrations from his voice made my pussy throb and the knot in my lower belly started to get tighter. my hands where everywhere - on his hair, shoulders, my own thighs, grabbing the leather of the seat as i whined. i couldn’t cover my moans anymore, begging for release when he entered another finger in, filling me up entirely.

“i’m gonna-” i was suddenly cut by his deep thrusts meeting my spot, whining loudly as my orgasm crashed down on me without any warning. my legs trembling against matt’s head only made the grip on my hips stronger and he kept on licking my release, making me spasm from the sensitiveness of my clit against his tongue.

matt realized i was getting overstimulated and finally stopped, showing off the biggest smile, face wet and lips red from eating me out.

“did i do good?” he asked, eager blue eyes meeting mine and sealing his lips on my own. i nodded between the kiss, smiling as he gave me a taste of myself.

“i told you’re always my good boy, matt” i said, caressing his hair, matt resting his head in my chest and laying over me. “you’re actually getting too good at this”.

“see? i’m not that naughty. only doing the best for the best” he joked back, giggling. i could feel his cock twitching over my pussy as we spoke, our heats rubbing against each other before he started another lewd kiss. i moved one of my hands to matt’s neck, my thumb applying pressure next to his addam’s apple. matt gulped and unconsciously jointed his hips forward, making me whine for the sudden contact at my exposed cunt. “fuck- sorry”

i loosened the grip on his neck and wrapped my legs around matt’s waist, bringing him closer to me. “didn’t you say you wanted to fuck me last time?” his blue eyes widened and he nodded frantically, wet spot growing on his pants. “so? you don’t want anymore?”

“i do!” matt said, loudest he’d been in hours, as if i was going to change my mind at any second. “i want it so bad i just- didn’t even… bring… protection” he whispered, disappointed at himself, hiding his face from me. before i could say it was okay - it wasn’t our first time and i loved it raw - matt started speaking again.

“i’ll pull it out! i promise, i’ll be a good boy and i’ll take it off” i nodded, reassuring him. “i don’t even have to cum, i can jack off in my hand afterwards i just- just need you. need you so much, y/n”.

i cut him off by moving my hands to his jeans, getting rid of the belt that had been bothering me all this time. matt was now only in his boxers and i quickly wrapped my fingers around his lenght.

matt's cock was rock hard, leaking pre-cum all over his shaft. i pumped him a few times, matt closing his eyes and groaning in my neck before i finally removed it from his underwear. his body kept glued on mine and i could feel matt's tip rubbing against my clit, both of us moaning at the same time.

my nails went to his back, scratching him as he kept on teasing my pussy. “can i?” he asked, not waiting for the answer he knew it would be yes, fuck, for christ's sake, just fuck me and gradually burying himself inside of me. i felt matt's cock stretching me completly, his veins throbbing against my walls.

“you're s-so fucking tight” he said under his breath, biting my earlobe.

“gosh, matt” i whined, trying to get used to his size.

matt started to move his hips slowly, allowing me to feel all of him entering my cunt. matt had been hard since i got into the car, so i knew he wasn’t gonna last long. he rapidly got worked up, not being able to keep the pace of his thrusts, pounding into me mindlessly.

i could feel his dick twitching, bringing me closer to come once more. “wanna cum” he whimpered. “please, wanna cum for you”.

“you can come baby boy, come inside of- fuck, yes!” as i gave him permission, matt released his thick spurt, filling me up with his cum. this threw me off the edge, another orgasm fully hitting me, making me tremble under him as my toes curled and i arched my back. matt panted heavily and quickly got out off me, his swollen tip leaking over my thighs and skirt.

just when we were coming from our highs, matt’s cellphone started ringing. we both grunted, annoyed by the interruption. “i’m not picking it up” he said, looking at me and kissing my cheek.

“you fucked my dress” i answered, coming back to my senses and realizing he had completely ruined it, from top to bottom.

“i’ll buy you a new dress each time we have sex” he giggled, looking at the mess he made. “how does that sound?” i showed him my pinky finger, making he promise me that he could destroy any cloth he wanted if he bought another one. we interlocked our fingers and sealed or lips together once more, laughing at the cheesy act we had just done.

“y/n” he called. “i think i’m in love with you”

“oh, shut the fuck up matthew” i giggled, pulling his hair and moving him off me.

i couldn’t let him know that this caught me off guard. i couldn't say how he’d make my heart beat faster, and i could never confess it out loud, but deep down i knew.

i was in love with him too.

- ♡ -

[sourlove]

My In-Laws ~ Part II of 'My Mistake' YANDERE TODOROKI SHOTO

TW: OBSESSION, DELUSION, MENTIONED ARSON, IMPLIED VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF MAFIA AND GANG ACTIVITIES

A/N: This is a quirkless AU so the Todoroki family isn't as fucked up. Touya never left but Enji is still lowkey an asshole. Also sorry this took a while, haven't been feeling very well.

READ PART 1 HERE

You should have gone to law school like your mom wanted you to. You had such a bright future. Now here you were, dressed to the nines, heading to an event you had no business being at, with a man who was convinced the both of you were madly in love.

Some people would consider it a win, especially with how powerful and wealthy the Todoroki name was. However, the circumstances that had led to your situation were less than ideal.

"I'm so glad you decided to match with me, my love," Shoto said, sending a small smile your way.

"You burned all my other clothes," you responded dryly, swatting his hand from your thigh.

The asshole pretended like he didn't even hear you. "It's good for us to present a united front against my family. This might come as a surprise but we aren't exactly a regular family."

You glanced out of the blacked out windows of the chauffer driven car you were in to the convoy that followed in front and behind, filled with armed guards. "You don't say."

Shoto sighed morosely. "It's shocking, I know. I must warn you that some of my family aren't very, how would you say, mentally stable."

"...is that so?" you asked the man who decided he was in love with you as he was tied up in your basement. Honestly, the whole thing was starting to sound like some big, elaborate prank he was pulling. But no, Shoto began his spiel, completely oblivious to your sarcasm.

"Take my eldest brother for example," he began. "We aren't supposed to talk about him, actually. It's...really been very difficult for my family..."

"Oh...did something happen to him?" You asked, feeling kind of bad.

"Hmm? No, we just can't reveal too much information so it won't be used against him in court." Shoto gave you a blank look. "He burnt down a school district. It's been really hard for my family to keep him out of prison so he's on house arrest now."

...of course he was.

The rest of the drive was filled with stories of Shoto's siblings and mother. You weren't sure if you wanted to meet actually them or if you wanted to throw yourself out of the car, but before you could make a decision, the car arrived in front of a large compound. You gaped in awe as the gates swung open to reveal a mansion and grounds even grander than Shoto's.

There was a butler who welcomed you to the mansion, while his eyes tried to communicate with you to run. Now that was a tempting idea. But there was no backing out now. Plus, Shoto had gotten used to your escape attempts and his hand was like a shackle on your wrist. You gazed around the interior of the mansion, your hands itching to pinch some of the smaller but still expensive looking art pieces.

"You're here!" A cheery voice made you turn towards the large grandiose staircase where a beautiful woman stood. She had long white hair, tipped with red, similar to Shoto's half. Must be Fuyumi then, the only 'normal' one in the family according to Shoto.

You smile thinly as she wraps you in a hug. "It's so to finally meet you!" she exclaimed. "Everyone is in the dining room already!"

Shoto snatched you back into his arms before Fuyumi could drag you away but she just chuckled and rolled her eyes at you. "Shoto was always so possessive with his things."

Things? Your smile grew a bit more strained but neither of them seemed to notice or care. The dining room was just as opulent as the rest of the house but you barely got to appreciate it, instead, all you took notice of was the mix of bright blue and grey eyes staring at you.

"This is Y/N. Don't be weird," Shoto introduced, oh so eloquently. The heads of the table were occupied by a giant red haired man and a tiny woman with silver hair flowing down her back. Two young men sat opposite each other and Fuyumi slipped into a chair, patting the seat next to her for you. Shoto ignored her and pulled you to sit next to him.

You nodded at them awkwardly. "Hello. Nice to meet you."

"You're kind of hot." A redhead with an ankle monitor and a disturbingly predatory grin piped up. "Like in a trapped mouse kind of way. I like it."

"Hush, Touya," the older woman said sternly. "He didn't mean that, dear."

"Nah, he has a point." The other young man, Natsuo probably, smiled at you, looking at you slowly from top to bottom. "There's something appealing there."

"I said don't be weird. Keep it in your fucking pants." Shoto glared at the both of them and if it were anyone else, you might have felt worried for them, however, the atmosphere in the room never changed.

"That's enough, all of you." The large man said gruffly. He must be Enji, the generally disliked patriarch. "Y/N, was it? Welcome."

"I'm sure Shoto has told you all about us. But we barely know anything about you, my dear," Rei said kindly. "How did you and our Shoto meet?"

"Oh, um-" You glanced around the room, wide eyed, only to be met with curious gazes from the family. Panicked, you shrank back into your seat. "We- uh, we met by chance, you know, it was like sooo romantic, haha. It was a park-yeah...".

Touya rolled his eyes and Natsuo scoffed into his wine glass. Enji silently raised an eyebrow. "Well, that sounds...nice," Fuyumi laughed awkwardly. "Very romantic..."

Shoto cleared his throat. "Y/N tried to kidnap me the first time that we met."

It was as if the tension just bled out of the room. Rei gasped in delight and smiled at Enji. "Oh, it reminds me of how me met! You remember when I tried to kill you?" He gave his wife a small, fond smile and nodded.

"Oh now, I'm definitely interested," Touya purred. "Looks like we have a little psychopath on out hands."

"You'll fit right in then, pretty," Natsuo added with a laugh. "We're all some kind of fucked up."

"I knew it!" Fuyumi exclaimed, eyes sparkling. "The moment I saw you, I knew you were special!"

Shoto leaned in, whispering, "I think they like you. Not sure if that's a good or bad thing."

Oh you knew what it was. As excited chatter from the Todoroki family began to fill the room, you knew that you had just gotten yourself entangled with one of the most dangerous groups of people in the world.

And that was a very bad thing indeed.

A/N: If you enjoyed this, please leave a like, comment and reblog! I need to sleep and get my shit together lol so this might not be my best work. Thanks for your support either way!

@sky2lar @justabratsworld

[siriustaylorsversion]

I think he knows - James potter x reader (pt.1)

author's note: this one i actually had sm fun with, also just fyi all accounts are public except siriuslyitsme (sirius' private acc) and savingprivatepotter (james' private ACC) based on this request that's all!

stagman

stagman happy valentines day everyone (to all the single bitches out there, we'll get em next time 💪🏻) liked by noimsirius, moonman and 13,083 others

noimsirius brother's saying this as if he has a date 😭

stagman how blind are you exactly? do you not see the last picture? wolfman you're the blind one and we both know that you put the flowers outside her apartment and ran away before she opened the door... stagman THE BETRAYAL??? AND WE SHARED USERNAMES </3

yourusername so you put those flowers outside my door.....

stagman OH MY GOD OH MY FSOUBIEBBBIQYWVHJBFIQ yourusername is he okay? wolfman you commented on his post, he's having a breakdown stagman YOU LIKED THE FLOWERS?? yourusername you should know flowers mean nothing... but thank you. stagman you're welcome ❤️❤️

yourusername

yourusername JAMES WAS THIS YOU??? liked by stagman, marlsmckinnon and 3090 others.

stagman you said you liked flowers 🤷🏻‍♂️

yourusername HOW MUCH DID YOU SPEND ON THIS stagman isn't it the thought that counts? yourusername THAT'S TOO MUCH THOUGHT

marlsmckinnon AWWWW YOU GOT ALL RED AND FLUSTERED WITH THE NOTE (over a man 🤮)

yourusername SHUT UP stagman it's fine, love, i knew you were in love with me ever since the first time you saw me yourusername pretty sure it was the other way around noimsirius GAGGED HIM

ohmyevans THIS IS ACTUALLY SO CUTE THOUGH 🫡💗💗

siriuslyitsme added a story!

savingprivatepotter added a story!

yourusername

yourusername beach day liked by noimsirius, ohmyevans and 6,900 others.

ohmyevans oh honey that's a beach DATE

yourusername jealous, evans? you know you're the only one in my heart <3 (also, not a date.)

stagman damnnn that's a handsome man WOW

yourusername you should date him then stagman gurl i would if i could 😍

marlsmckinnon never thought i'd see a day when james would be on your page but OKAY

stagman she just likes me more than you marlsmckinnon know your limits. stagman sorry 😔

marymacdonald_duck it's so cute that you finally like him oh my god <333

yourusername MARY??????? stagman wait what. marymacdonald SHIT THIS ISN'T YOUR PRIVATE

hehe ending on this note (there will be a part 2 soon)

[marwhoa]

request: You write the turtles boys so well! I literally can't stop smiling when I read your fics - they're so sweet and endearing. I was wondering, only if it strikes your interest of course, if you'd consider writing about the boys being jealous of each other when the reader spends time with them one on one? Like, maybe a slot for Leo where he thinks reader finds Donnie funnier? Or one for mikey, where he thinks that reader likes how big raph is? Or for raph, where he thinks reader is more enamored with Leo? Or Donnie, where he worries that Mikey is flirting with reader? Of course they're all misunderstandings, and maybe it could end all fluffy with confessions and comforting their respective boy? If not, don't worry, but if so, thank you! 1 look forward to whatever you put out next.

🝮 “ green with envy ”

rise!boys x y/n

author’s note: screaming profusely !!! eeeee !!! So hey yeah here’s a fic, this took a while because it sat in my notes for days before I finally posted it, my bad. This was kinda hard cause I’m not experienced in the realm of jealousy—hopefully y’all like it? ᗡ: also does envy even fit this scenario? Lmao I just be naming these fics any thing, can y’all tell?

word count: 6.1k

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Leo 💌

Leo never expected he could ever become… jealous, not him—no, no, NEVER him. He had too much pride, too much confidence. There should have never been any room for doubt in his ability to keep you focused and adoring on him, and him alone.

But, perhaps he had given himself too much credit? Or, maybe he had given his twin too little credit.

It wasn’t as though you were his. Just friends, and technically that meant you belonged to the whole family, not just him. But, no one could blame him for coveting you. From how starry-eyed you looked at him to how genuinely you laughed at his jokes, Leo found out too late that he had been falling for you, and here he was still falling. The way your nose crinkled when you laughed, or how your face lit up during Mikey’s dinner times, even down to the wheezing laugh you would give into if he pushed his jokes on too long, all of it spelled out lovely disaster for his heart.

But, fear not, he thought. He was the face man and the funniest turtle, surely there was no competition? No one could be better than him at getting you to make the faces you did.

Or well, it should’ve been no one. He wasn’t even all that funny, but Donnie managed to get you to keel over to some stuff he said—and he didn’t even intend for them to be jokes! A natural comic, can you believe the nerve of this guy?

So, yeah, Leo never expected himself to be jealous, and especially never towards his own brother, but god the way you were showing that tickled-silly expression to Donnie, wiping tears as he confusedly asked what was so funny? It had him gripping the arm of their couch, digging his nails into them. He wasn’t going to take this any longer! Sure Donnie meant no harm and would never try to swoop in and steal the prize he had his eye on, but Leo couldn’t help but still be… aggravated.

The pent-up annoyance was dispelled by the red-slider leaping over the couch, sassily walking over and snaking his arm across your waist.

“ Yeah, whatever, Donnie is sooo funny, but hey, Y/N, let me show you something better! ”

Never mind the fact that he had nothing planned as he twirled his katana in his other hand, slicing the air until a blue portal shimmered into existence. You glanced back and waved good bye to Donnie, fully intrigued by whatever it was Leo wanted to show you.

“ Oh—okay! What is it? ”

“ Who am I to ruin a surprise? ”

He cocked a brow at your question, tugging you through the portal and stepping out into the courtyard of the Witch’s city. While amazed, you wondered just what this had to do with anything—but, of course that was a comment you would keep to yourself until having fully exhausted the excitement of exploring not just any random town, but rather a town of witches!

“ Oh, Leo, finally! I’ve been begging you to bring me here for weeks! ”

Before he could even say anything, you were quickly rushing up to the nearest shop and sparking up conversation. Such a busy bee, but it was just another aspect of you he was captivated by. However, with such an impromptu visit to a rather overwhelming area, he found chances to spark conversation and get you to laugh to be stretched few and far between.

“ Oh wow, this store really doesn’t leave mushroom for walk-through, huh? ”

He gestured to a potions-ingredients shop, which, you guessed it, specialized in all things fungal-based. His shoulders drooped as you continued ahead, not even hearing him. That joke was gold! Huffing, Leo caught up with you and laced his fingers around your wrist, effortlessly stopping you in your tracks.

“ Mm? Leo? ”

You stared up at him with such a look of focus, all your attention finally fully on him, and he had to fight his legs not to reduce to jelly instantly. Instead, he took a deep breath, cocked his head, and insisted you follow him.

Down weaving alleys, through crowds of people, eventually you reached a park unlike any seen on the surface. The paths were lined with thick, luscious plants cultivated through the town’s magic. Foliage swayed with no wind, as though dancing like silk fabric to whatever music only they heard.

Your attention only left the plants when you heard Leo start clearing his throat and then flashing you a look that you recognized all too well. A grin was already tugging at your lips, and Leo finally felt like he was the only one in your world again. His hands held onto his belt and he kicked out his legs, faking as though he were tipping a hat. It seemed like some western cowboy impersonation?

“ What in carnation? ”

There you went, first with a light and short laugh.

“ Well I do say, I took a leaf of faith bringing you here,”

Which then melded into a series, topped with a “ Wait, Leo, hush—please! ”, all stuttered and peppered through your increasing laughter.

“—but, beleaf it or not—“

He wasn’t even able to finish the entire spiel before you were holding onto him, laughing with such a melodious voice. Which, of course, devolved into your trademark wheeze n’snort after dragging on too long.

“ Pwffhaaha!! Leo, wha-what’s with you today? ”

You wiped away a tear, and suddenly Leo was finally brought back to reality. Your hand on his forearm lingered, and he was just completely beside himself with how the glowing willows beside the garden softened your face ever-so-perfectly.

“ Y/N… ”

His voice was so uncharacteristically soft that it had you a tad bit spooked, hand gripping a teensy tighter. Your head cocked slightly in confusion.

“ I.. Ugh, okay, it’s—it’s dumb! But—“

He dragged his hands down his face, groaning exhaustedly.

“ I thought, maybe, you might’ve… Liked Donnie, more than me. ”

“ Huh? Why would you think that, I love all of you guys? ”

“ Yeah, but I love you, and—“

The shock painted on your face had him holding his breath. Alarms went off in his head, telling him he maybe should have held his tongue, not jumped ahead so quickly. The two of you searched each other’s eyes in silence, you recovering from what he said, and him preparing himself for what you would say. Soon enough, your face twisted into a confusion tinged with a bit of playfulness.

“ Wait a second.. You’re jealous, aren’t you? Of Donnie? What for? ”

“ What? What do you mean what for? You, you’ve been laughing at everything he said all day, don’t you think he’s funnier? Don’t you like him more?! ”

If it weren’t his dumb puns and act earlier, it was this that would do you in.

“ Leo, you dummy! Sure I was laughing, but that doesn’t mean I like him more than you, I just, well… ”

It was your turn to be a bit bashful as your eyes looked everywhere except him.

“ I, well.. You’re my favorite, Leo, not Donnie.. ”

As you batted your eyes at him, hoping he would connect the dots thoroughly, your answer was given in the form of his beaming expression as he swept you into his arms, spinning.

“ Ah-hah! So you do like me—and I’m the funnier turtle!? ”

“ Oh no, I shouldn’t have said anything, now you’re too powerful! ”

Playfully you cried, leaning back with your hand dramatically draped across your forehead. Leo chuckled at your antics leaning in to lay his head against your stomach as he tightened his hold firmly.

This was definitely something he would rub in his brother’s face later on—and said brother would be profusely confused by what brought it on???

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey 💌

Mikey was the last turtle you ever considered could suffer from the classic ailment of “ jealousy ”, and you couldn’t help but feel both ashamed yet intrigued.

While you weren’t too sure what it was that had got him so riled up, you were observant enough to see the way his eyes lit up with a startling emotion. At first it was impossible to pinpoint, just a glimpse of something indiscernible yet startling that crept into his blue hues at the oddest of times.

The first time you had seen that frightful emotion peek its head was during a date. The two of you had decided to hit a bar late at night, him donning a cloaking brooch, of course.

When you arrived, the loud music was entrancing, luring you both onto the dance floor to get lost in each other’s arms. The music coiled around you both, closing the gap to a suffocatingly tight end, as if either of you couldn’t stand any sort of distance apart. The floor vibrated, from both the booming speakers and the music reverberating the whole building alongside the dancing bodies around you both.

Mikey beamed with the brightest smile, and you just knew he was laughing, albeit drowned out from the ambiance. You were both having the time of your lives. Absorbed into a bubble fit for only the two of you, eyes locked on each other, neither party was ready for the stranger’s hands that snaked around your waist, pulling you in without any mind paid to you already having a devoted dance partner.

Chills set in and you turned to Mikey instantly, locking eyes, but the look in his eyes was enough to have your voice hitch in your throat.

That night ended with you both getting kicked out after Mikey wailed on the guy, but after a while, you both laughed and talked all about the fight on the way home.

The next time you saw that look was when you were hanging out with Leo while waiting for Mikey to return back from patrol. He had invited you over, and you planned to do it after wrapping up a few things, so he figured he could finish a patrol and be ready for you when you got done.

Unfortunately for him, you happened to finish your escapade much too early, and thus were at the lair awaiting his return. Leo happened to pass by, so you roped him into a conversation to bide the time. When Mikey did eventually come home, he stepped in to see you nearly keeled over in laughter.

You had been laughing so hard that when you noticed Mikey, you gave a weak wave and continued dying. He was curious what the joke was, but Leo simply shook his head and left, his own laugh dwindling down the hall. Once you recovered and were on your feet, you caught that same scary emotion swirling in his eyes. He tightened his lips and only softened when he turned to you.

More and more questions arose as you came to experience this look time and time again in all kinds of situations, but the one that finally made all the clicks pop into place was his outburst after you were with Raph.

He had been taking care of some villains on patrol with Mikey when you had ended up in the wrong place, wrong time. Their battle had turned to a violent one, with the villain bashed straight into a wall. Debris crumbled down right as you turned the corner, eyes shooting up to see parts of the building falling towards you. There was no time to move, so you just closed your eyes shut right and braced yourself.

But, no pain ever came, just a bit of dust. You opened your eyes, seeing a huge shadow casted over your body, and when you looked up?

It was Raph, who blocked the falling debris with his mighty shell.

“ Raph! “

You yelped, heart thundering in your chest, and Mikey misunderstood the shimmer in your eyes as Raph rose to full height, throwing the concrete off and away. He misinterpreted why you hugged him so tightly when he scooped you up, taking you away from the damage and ushering you to run the other way.

When you’re focusing on the wrong things, it’s easy to get the signs wrong, and boy had the ache in Mikey’s heart got everything so totally wrong. You liked Raph, didn’t you? Why else would you look at him like that? Did you like it when folks were bigger than you, unlike him who simply had an inch or two on you?

How could he be so stupid?

So, that’s how you ended up where you were now, seconds from entering your apartment when Mikey met you with a sour look on his face. You noticed that same glint in his eyes, still trying to piece together what it meant.

“ Why didn’t you tell me? ”

His voice wavered, and you responded with a hum of confusion. Inviting him in, he closed the door behind you both. His lips tugged down as he searched everywhere for the words to say. Finally, he found them and settled back on you as you were putting things down and unwinding.

“ With Raph! You like him, don’t you?! ”

“ Wha? ”

“ You—You! ”

He seemed frustrated, wracking his brain until finally he threw his hands out and shouted.

“ DO YOU LOVE RAPH MORE BECAUSE HE’S SO BIG?! ”

Silence blanketed you both as you processed his words. Finally, you placed a word on the emotion you always saw in his eyes. Struggling not to laugh at the absurdity, you snorted and shook your head.

“ Jealousy! That’s wh—wait, no, Mikey, no, I don’t ‘Love Raph cause he’s big’ ”

“ Then why do you like him more!? ”

“ Where is this coming from, Mikey, I don’t like Raph like that—I like you. ”

You stepped closer, and Mikey let you in. Your hands reached up, cupping his cheeks, and he leaned into them with such a desperation that you felt bad for finding this whole situation so silly.

“ Just, you always seem so happy when he’s around, and whenever he saves you instead, you always.. ”

His eyes were elsewhere as he spoke, almost as though he were seeing the absurdity in it all now with a clearer mind.

“ Ahh, mhmm, yup, alright so Mikey usually people are very happy when they’re saved from danger—and I mean, I probably look happy cause I’m friends with him too, but I’m dating you, silly. ”

You booped his snoot, smiling as his eyes lit up with the love you were accustomed to seeing them full of.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Raph 💌

If there was any one of the brothers full of insecurities, it would come as no surprise as the spotlight shone upon the red turtle, atop the winner’s pedestal. As someone who once led his brothers in the face of battle, who grew up with the elder sibling curse of forced parenthood, it came as no shock that there were a couple of problems sprinkled into his character.

While he had spent much of his life up to this point recovering and healing from what dared chip at his exterior, there was more than a few bits of stubborn grime that lingered on his surface. It ate away at him, leaving behind vulnerabilities.

Then you came along, and throughout the honeymoon period he experienced nothing but delights. Never had the negative Nancy in his brain perked up to talk her shit, misleading him in circles until he was a mess of unbundled, tangled up rope.

You were a light, something that seemed to power wash the grime away, cake over it with your delicate touch and sweet words. Much smaller than he, you were probably one of the kindest humans he met, someone he cherished more than life itself.

And that, in and of itself, was a vulnerability. You were his weakness, and the shrewd dark spots in his brain couldn’t wait for the rose-colored glass to shatter and let them sink their teeth into this beauteous opportunity.

The sensible part of him knew your kindness knew no ends, that it wasn’t limited or excluded to simply him or a select few. In fact, your sweet demeanor shared with his brothers? It was a breath of relief—it was an understatement to say he had been nervous to introduce you to the family. You were okay with him because he saved you, but his brothers and father weren’t present. They hadn’t been the heroes slamming down against concrete, scaring away the silverfish that preyed upon you one fateful night.

Turns out the trash-eaters had a hankering for good food, and you, all alone, on your way back home with a doggy-bag from Cleo’s Beach Shack, served to be the perfect target.

The night had been quiet, albeit suspiciously so, but your full tummy and weary limbs had their guard fully down. You daydreamed of the bed awaiting you at home, arms beckoning you forth with pillowy softness.

That delightful image was disturbed by the sudden rustling and clank you heard from behind. Turning, your eyes shooed away dreamland and were alert. An empty can rolled from a bush, tinking into someone’s trash can at the curb. Not a soul in sight, so surely it must have been one of New York’s infamous rats? Y’know, that creature that is practically extinct in this city, like there’s no way you would ever see them—definitely not at the metro nor the coffee shop, and surely never this residential street with primo rat hot-spots such as unsupervised trash cans full of food waste.

Yeah, of course, must have been a rat. You’re so paranoid, just hurry on home, nothing bad will happen. Nothing bad ever happens to pretty little guys like you, alone on dimly lit streets, lined with houses whose doors are locked to high hell.

Nothing bad, especially not like the cold metal that clamped firmly on your ankle. Never anything as worse as the chilling growl from whatever tripped you up, glaring with red eyes and flicking a long, sharp-looking tail.

“ Oh sh—“

Your voice feebly complained, raising into a scream to the heavens above as it lunged towards you.

Or well, towards your to-go bag, but who’s paying attention to the little things like that when your life is flashing before your eyes?

Thankfully, the end never came. There was the sound of a growling struggle after a tremor shook your shivering frame, and as you opened your eyes to peek at whatever held up your attacker, a silhouette towered over you. He casted a long shadow over you, which should have been intimidating as hell, but instead it left you feeling…

Safer?

In his hand laid two identical buggers, squirming and chomping with animalistic hunger. This had to have been worse than the rats, you’d take the rats any day, at least they weren’t massive.

… well okay, they are, but this is a whole ‘nother level.

The most shocking part was this giant hero taking a step back, assuming the position of a pitcher, and launching the creatures into the distance. There may have been a glint shining, and was that the cheer of an audience you were hearing? No, that was your imagination, obviously.

But you were not imagining this guy in front of you. Much too tall to be human, unless it was some basketball lead who somehow had balls of steel to save a stranger.

Every warning sign imaginable was washed away without a trace as your savior turned around and shot a shaky smile, warm as a summer sun.

“ S-Sorry about that, are ya okay? ”

He spoke with the timidness of someone a fourth his size, and you couldn’t help but be completely charmed to death.

From that day you would see him more and more, to the point that it felt as if maybe he had been appointed your personal body guard. Ah, but, you didn’t really mind, did you? You loved his company and his toothy grins. You adored his warm, gentle hugs, and it was too sweet how you could feel his hands tremble as they held yours ever so delicately.

So yeah, he worried to introduce you to his family, but the way you brightened up the room instantly had him starstruck. You’re perfect, that’s it. That’s the tweet.

The rosey glass shattered after a few lingering months of dating. His insecurities reared their heads, resting sharp grips on his shoulders as they whispered in his ears all kinds of falsities. You liked his brothers, but maybe you liked his brothers? Why else would you be so nice to them?

And, maybe that’s why you were smiling at Leo like that? Raph is right here, so why were you talking to his brother? He couldn’t even focus enough to heard you both holding the most mundane conversation ever about some shop that opened up over on Moore’s. He steeped in the tea of jealousy, filling his senses to the brim with worry.

The worst part about it was that if you liked Leo, he couldn’t even blame you. Leo was like water, while Raph was stone. Raph stood still, he could be bossy at times, while Leo was a spunky little river that would keep you on your toes. Leo was never boring, and he could keep a smile on your face for as long as the day lasted..

But he didn’t want any of that to be true. None of it.

The conversation was stopped by a meek voice asking for your time, attention shifting from Brother Blue to your beloved, clad in what became your favorite color in these past few months.

“ Y/N, can we talk? ”

Ignoring Leo’s nudge and teasing “ ooooooohs ”, you nodded with a smile, following Raph with a pep in your step.

“ Of course, dear. ”

That lead to the silence you currently shared—with him leaning against the wall of his room, gaze fixated on some smudges on the floor. That should be cleaned up, he thought, trying to not think of how you were sat on his bed, awaiting whatever it was he needed off his chest.

“ Raph? ”

You were the first to talk, already well acquainted with your love’s tiptoeing when it came to any sort of conversation that might be unsavory. You watched as he twisted his expression, tightening his lips—whatever it was, it was bothering him profusely, and you couldn’t help the pang gripping your heart..

“ Raph…? ”

Again, your voice seemed weaker this time. That was what gave him the drive to speak, he couldn’t handle leaving you in such a state, he needed to know if these worries of his were dumb!

“ Do you like Leo? ”

“ What. ”

Your response was so fast and curt, the product of being completely taken off guard with a left hook. There were plenty of other ideas you had for the direction of this conversation, such as having beaten his leftovers last week or how you have his favorite hoodie in your laundry basket right now. Maybe even the secret trips to Donnie’s, who was currently helping you get together a gift for Raph’s birthday next month. A particularly low worry even fretted that this might be a conversation about your relationship and how it should end.

But, instead it’s about Leo? What an easy question to answer!

“ Sorry, I didn’t mean that, I mean to say no. ”

Raph’s shoulders loosened and a breath of relief slipped out of him—when had he even started holding his breath?? Never mind that. You snorted at the absurd thought of liking Leo of all people.

“ Why would I like Leo? Raph, c’mere. ”

You held your hands out, and the way his hands fell into yours spelled out a desperation to be close to you. With a gentle tug, he climbed onto his bed, and you melted into his chest. A storm was brewing in his chest, his heart thundering nervously.

“ Ya just, Raph don’t know, something—he, just… Raph was worried, s’all. Afraid ya preferred him over a… ”

While he was searching for whatever word to insult himself with, you captured his attention with a gentle peck on the lips. Your fingers gently held his chin, turning his focus to lay fully on you.

“ Over a charming, handsome hero? ”

There was that adorable smile, peppering his lips as a light laugh erupted from his chest.

“ You think I’d prefer Leo, who is a risky little ticking time bomb, over my knight in shining armor? ”

He whispered a rebuttal, something along the lines of “ he really is, huh? ”

“ Oh Raph-a-doodle, never could I want anyone other than you. ”

Leaning up, you pressed your forehead against his and gazed into his eyes. They searched yours for a hint of deceit, for anything to latch onto and spiral about, but all he found was warmth.

Thus, the jealousy flame died out, and he plummeted backwards against his bed, dragging you down with him. He gave a heavy exhale as you giggled atop his plastron, scolding him for being so silly.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie 💌

The green of jealousy was a hue you never expected to be painted across the purple canvas you called your boyfriend, but surely there is a chance for any reality to blossom true, right?

Jealousy had sewn seeds far before either of you could catch on, oblivious to the roots which spiraled and narrowed vision to see only one option as opposed to the myriad of other reasonings. You had poured love into your dearest Donnie, so much so that you couldn’t even fathom any room for jealousy. How could he ever be jealous? Surely he knows full and well just how you look at him? Obviously he knows just how only he can pluck the strings of your heart, strumming love with each touch, in a way unlike any other.

Why, if you were Excalibur, then he was your King Arthur.

So, yeah, may the gods above forgive you for not considering a jealous Donnie as a reality to worry about—though, is it really too worrying? Your boyfriend being jealous? Kind of interesting, doesn’t it just trip up your heart into a flurry of skips?

No? Just me?

Anyways, you had missed entirely the shifting of his gaze when Mikey would enter the room. The low growl, the holding of his breath, none of it had appeared in your mind as you laughed along with whatever silly antics the youngest brother would get up to. Sometimes you would even entertain him! I mean, he is your boyfriend’s little brother, so it’s only right that you laugh at his jokes, get along with him, and all that good stuff.

But, jealousy was the type to hold someone still, to draw their gaze upon one stiff perspective and allow no other reasoning. For a man of science, even he was not above the laws of insecurity in relationships, so when he saw how bouncy his brother was around you, never did he contemplate the obvious. Nary a thought shall he consider that it was simply his brother getting along with his brother’s girlfriend, nor did he consider maybe you were being nice. No, the sour, bitter green dipped his head in the nastiness of jealousy, and all he could consider in this moment was that you must have liked his brother more.

Or maybe, his brother liked you and intended to steal you away? Why else would you laugh so heartily at whatever nonsense his brother spouted? Whatever reason was there for the times he would find you in the kitchen, fixing up dinner alongside Mikey? What else could explain you returning home with topside art supplies and personalized tips to his youngest brother?

Obviously the jealous mind of Donatello Hamato was going to omit one important factor: you did this with all his brothers. If they told a good joke, you would laugh. If Mikey made dinner, you were guaranteed to be in the kitchen helping by fixing you and Donnie’s plates to your liking. If there was something on the surface any of the brothers needed, you would totally put it on your errand run, delivering it during your next visit.

But, jealousy cares not for easy explanations. It craves the most dramatic interpretations, and in this case?

The juiciest interpretation was that Mikey had set his eyes on you, Donnie’s prized lover, and you had fallen for him hook, line, and sinker.

No, no, no, Donnie says, not on his watch would he let you be swept off your feet by anyone else.

“ Y/N. ”

Donnie leaned forward, fingers firmly locking with yours and giving an urgent tug. There was a thickness layered in his eyes that left Mikey shrinking away, confused as to what he could’ve done wrong.

“ Let’s go,”

Straightening up, he couldn’t help the grin widening on his face in a “ I’ve won ” type of manner. You simply waved to his brother.

“ You haven’t forgotten why you’re here, have you? ”

The look in his eyes caused your heart to skip, unprepared for such a heavy gaze that you hadn’t yet experienced. A nervous smile rose on your expression as you looked anywhere but the face giving you a look that would serve to make you fall even harder.

“ Of course not, Dee. ”

Donnie noted your refusal to eye contact, and instead of assuming it was one of your usual bashful moments caused by yours truly, his thoughts were plagued with theories of Mikey somehow worming his way into the heart Donnie swore was his.

“ Right. ”

He muttered in a curt fashion, leading you both to his lab.

The uncomfortable awkwardness blanketing the atmosphere had not gone unnoticed as you followed him, thumb stroking loving little hearts upon the upside of his palm. Usually he would meet this with a firm squeeze, but you could recognize when your genius had his mind up in the clouds. He wasn’t even paying attention to you, was he?! And to think you came all this way to entertain his experiments, hoping to get a kiss or two, only to be met with unnecessary coldness?

What the heck, man?

“ Prepare to behold the wondrous creations of the genius, Donatello. ”

Whatever stink he had been brewing in just seconds prior had evaporated as he unveiled his newest creation: an air-fryer that could quite literally create anything from thin air.

You tried to ignore the distant shout of the youngest brother, something along the lines of “ Hey! Where’s the air-fryer?! ”

Donnie had not ignored it, nor had he dismissed the stifled laughter from you that he surely knew the cause of. His hands clenched, wrapping into crossed arms as he leaned his weight into the table.

“ Annoyed sigh. ”

While rolling his eyes, he muttered an annotation to the peeved groan slipping his lips. There it was again, you noted with a narrowed gaze, that odd discontentment he’d been soaking in this night.

“ Alright, spill it. ”

You mirrored his lean, relying on one of the structural pillars in his lab to hold your weight. Your fingers thumped impatiently against your bicep as your eyes soaked in Donnie’s body language. He seemed to stiffen, either nervously or defensively, you didn’t know.

“ Spill what? ”

He spoke with such an accusatory tone that you were almost ticked off. You held your tongue, hoping to keep this civil and not devolving into mindless argument.

“ Spill wh—?! ”

Sputtering, your hands gestured wildly before quite literally framing him. He knew what you meant, he wasn’t dumb!

“ Whatever is making you so, so—so THIS! ”

His brow raised, and he almost seemed insulted as you threw your hands up with a frustrated growl.

“ Why are you so upset with me right now? What did I do? ”

That seemed to do the charm of dragging out what you’ve been looking for, the explanation, as he straightened his posture and pushed off the table.

“ Oh save me the innocent act, Y/N,”

Confusion painted your face, and for a moment he physically faltered, unsure to continue after such a clear display of hurt across your pretty face. After a second, his mouth tugged into a frown, shaking off the hesitation to continue his claim,

“ I know you like Mikey, so just do us both a favor and go scurry along after him. ”

Donnie waved his hand off, pointing to the door. Whatever look you had on your face at that moment must have embodied just how deeply the pain in your heart crawled, right on down to your very core, because he seemed to balk at his own words. A bit of regret wrapped around him as he muttered something too low for you to hear.

Tightening your lips, you straightened this time and took a few steps to close the gap between you and him.

“ You will not talk to me like that, and what’s this about me liking Mikey? Your little brother? ME? You think I like him?! ”

There was no way, right? He couldn’t be serious? You, liking Mi—he might as well have been your brother too! You could never like him over Donnie?! What an outrageous claim, you thought, standing your ground in front of Donnie. This could have been avoided if he had just not been such, such a…

“ Obviously! Why else would you be bringing him gifts and helping him out in the kitchen? ”

You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted as he continued with an accusatory finger pointing no where specific.

“ And I’ll have you know that I have read about ‘Cooking together’ and I know how much of an intimate bonding experience it is! ”

The childish stomp he gave, throwing his fists against his sides stiffly, served to diminish almost all the frustration bubbling up. You snorted at the sight, causing him to loosen up, confusedly tripping over his words to sputter out a “ Wh-What, what is this, what’s so funny? ”

“ … You’re a riot, Dee. ”

Wiping away the tiny tears pricking from such a hearty laugh, your eyes met his with less of anger and more of the warmth he was far too familiar of.

“ Since apparently I’m the only one of us with some sense, I’ll have YOU know that I do that for all of y’all! ”

Sheepishly, he seemed to curl into himself as you poked your index finger right into his plastron to emphasize the “ you ”.

“ I bring you gifts all the time—April, Raph, Leo, hell, even Splinter, too! ”

Jealousy was starting to burn away, leaving behind the bashful shame as he started to finally contemplate the more reasonable explanations for your behavior. Silently he condemned himself for starting up this whole dumb debacle with such a blatant disregard to the facts.

“ And of COURSE I help Mikey with cooking. You have a specific palette that he doesn’t always remember fully, so it’s up to me to make sure you get a fulfilling meal you’ll actually eat, dummy! ”

Ah, now that was the part that did him in, something he didn’t even know. Just as you were going to continue, he stepped closer.

“ Wait, you do? ”

“ I do—do what? I said a lot of things, Donnie, be specific. ”

Derailed, you stumbled over your claims, lost suddenly at which point he had cling to.

“ I thought Michael was just inconsistent in his preparation of my dishes, but since you say that, I do recall my meals being much better when you were around. ”

His hands had found their way upon your shoulders as he spoke, gaze flitting all across the lab as he collected his thoughts.

“ I had suspected meals were just better when you were around because, well.. ”

You softened as his gaze fell onto you.

“ Because you were there.. ”

Silence fell upon you both, except more comfortably this time. He exhaled deeply, marked with his trademark “ relieved sigh ” then smiled at you.

“ Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into such a ridiculous argument. I was just… ”

“ You were just… Jealous? ”

Your teasing gaze was searing through him, so much so he shut his eyes tightly and groaned annoyedly.

“ As much as I would wish to not admit it, yes. I may have been experiencing,”

He waved his hand in the air, as if collecting his words.

“ Jealousy, towards your interactions with Miguel.. ”

Donnie was relieved as you laughed away all his worries, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips. The moment lingered for a few, as if desperately needed to mend this situation, stopping only when you pulled away.

“ Alright, you’re forgiven… For now—BUT! Next time just talk to me, dummy, you got me all riled up for no reason. ”

With that, you gave a playful shove that had him gasping as though he were insulted, and quick to rush to his experiment’s side with more questions than he could keep up with.

Not like he hated an attentive and questioning audience, though. Much appreciated.

[sports-on-sundays]

two for one / LN4 & OP81 / Part 1

Summary: Lando x female!Australian!McLaren marketing unit worker!reader x childhood best friend!Oscar - Two Formula 1 drivers who just so happen to race for McLaren also just so happen to have fallen for you. Takes place from Australian Grand Prix 2024 to Monaco GP 2024.

Warnings: cussing, jealousy, flirty friendship, angst, manipulation, lying, OH THE DRAMA, confusion, mention of throwing up, not feeling well

Requested?: No.

Author's Note: I feel like this idea is so unoriginal but I don't care. The work of the reader is not mentioned much at all because there's no way I'm putting the energy into that. Link to part 2

"We should have Oscar over!" your mother exclaims. "I'm sure he's going to b-"

"Wait, Oscar's coming over?!" your younger sister exclaims.

"No, no, no," you sigh. "He's not. Mum, he's busy. We can't be bothering him with that. He's got too much on his plate. It'll just be a burden for him."

"No, it won't! Oscar's always nice!" your sister, Ava, remarks.

You sigh. "He's polite. He's very good at being polite. But it would still be a burden for him."

"You get to see him, like, everyday-"

"Not everyday-"

"-but me and Mum haven't seen him in ages. Oscar's like an older brother!"

You roll your eyes. "I'll see what I can do."

You're surprised when it's Oscar who brings it up. A week before the Grand Prix, he comes to dinner, which is nice for your sister and mum, you suppose.

But it's after he leaves that your mum makes a comment you're not sure you like.

She sighs and says, "Oscar's so sweet, Y/n. I'm sure that boy loves you."

"Sorry?" you look up in surprise. It was said so casually, you weren't expecting such a comment.

"He's such a sweet boy," she starts, as though he's still the sweet boy from down the street that used to babysit Ava with you, and not a famous Formula 1 driver. "You've known him for so many years. I would completely approve of him as a boyfriend for y-"

"Mum, I'm twenty-two! I don't need you to approve who I date! " you sigh, rolling your eyes.

"Yes, yes, I know. But don't you see the way he looks at you? He talks of you so fondly. He's just so kind with you- extra kind. More kind than how he is with other people."

You sigh, looking down at the tablecloth, picking your nails. "Well," you murmur, "if he really feels that way, he can let me know. But for now, I'm not interested in him... I... I don't think..." your voice fades off.

"Y/n. Haven't you had a crush on him for years? What changed that?"

You shrug, and murmur embarrassed, still not looking up, "I guess I just... moved on to someone else?"

"Y/n! You have a boyfriend?" your immature sister giggles.

"No! Just friends. But... I kind of like him, and I think he might like me, too."

"What's his name?"

You clear your throat, glancing down. You're not sure how to get out of this, so you decide simply to get up, saying you'll clean the dishes.

Because you know your mother would be, to say in the least, unhappy to know that rather being interested in Oscar, you're interested more in his teammate, Lando.

Or, at least, you think you are.

As you rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, you think. Lando really is your type, in looks and personality. Everything you want in a guy. He's got a good sense of humour, a kind heart, and an adventurous spirit.

Not to say Oscar doesn't have all those things. It's just different.

Besides, you like Lando's curly hair. You like his greenish eyes and easy smile. You like his tanner skin and dark eyebrows. You like his build, you like his hands; you're just more attracted to him.

On the surface, maybe Lando and Oscar don't seem so different. But to you, one is your best friend, and the other, you want, just maybe, as a little bit more.

Are you not appreciating Oscar? You don't know.

But you sure know how you feel, and nothing is going to change that.

Or, at least, you don't think anything will.

The whole weekend after that goes as usual, but you're happy to be in yours and Oscar's homeland. After the practice sessions, you're seated, sipping from a your water bottle, when Lando plops down next to you. "Hello."

"Hey," you nod to him with a smile. "How's it going?"

He smirks like the stupid idiot he is and says, "Better, now that I'm with you."

You roll your eyes, and look up to see Oscar walking over he sits down on the other side of you, and you comment, "It's pretty crazy, isn't it?"

"What is?" Oscar asks.

"We used to play in this park, you know? Remember, dragging Ava along behind us?"

Oscar chuckles, nodding. "And my three little sisters. It was you and me, dragging around the four younger ones because our parents wanted a break."

"Yeah, your mum had Pilates or something," you joke.

He nods again with a grin. "Yeah. Probably something like that."

Then Oscar gets up and walks off, and Lando says, "So you two really have known each other forever?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Both born in Melbourne, a little over a month apart."

"So when's your birthday?" Lando inquires, crossing his arms across his chest.

"May 26. Funnily enough, that's the Monaco Grand Prix."

"Oh boy. I guess that means we'll have to drive well that weekend, even better. You know, for you."

"Yeah," you chuckle. "You're going to dedicate the whole Monaco Grand Prix to me?"

"Well, you certainly deserve it," he grins, patting your back before standing up and walking away.

Gosh, do you like both those guys so much!

"Ayy!" you grin, high-fiving Lando. "Let's go, baby! A podium. Nice job! And you too, Osc! Nice job, dude!" you add as he passes. He beams almost as big as Lando and nods, thanking you, before walking off.

"Well, what a gift," Lando winks. "To have you greet me after the Grand Prix."

"You're hopeless," you grin, rolling your eyes. "Good race, though. Solid, from both you and Oscar."

Lando suddenly wraps you in a hug, which makes your body practically turn to stone. "Thanks so much. You're so encouraging."

"O- Of course, Lando. Always."

"M-hm, and that's what I like about you," he says, pulling away from the hug, before walking off.

You're standing there, blushing softly, at the fact that Lando Norris just hugged you, when you turn your head, and, unexpectedly, see the brown eyes of Oscar lingering on you. As soon as your eyes meet, though, he swiftly turns his crestfallen face down, away from your face.

All the sudden, you feel a large, nervous stone in your throat.

Did he see you hug Lando?

Is that what that look about?

Or is he just down about not getting a podium at his home race?

Yeah, maybe that's just it. Anyone would be, right?

But, inside, you know that's not it. You know Oscar. He keeps cool. He's a good sportsman- a really good one. He's polite. He understands what had to be done.

So what's that look about?

Your brain can only reach one conclusion, and you're not sure if you like it.

Oscar takes a deep breath and starts walking toward you. Maybe it's time to say what he's thinking. If there's any chance of things going on with you and Lando, it's probably good for you to know how he feels, right? Just so there's no confusion.

At least that's what Oscar's figuring.

But, who knows, when he stands up and walks over, if he's actually going to admit it. For years, he's felt this way, and he's never had to guts to just say it, knowing you don't feel the same way.

Oscar wouldn't say he's scared of it, but he's definitely not keen on the idea of being rejected, which he assumes he likely will be.

You're just getting some coffee before you get back to your work, and Oscar, though he's really not thirsty or in want of any coffee right now, is ready to pretend he is.

The excuse is that he's tired. Perhaps it's too far-fetched, since it's pretty much a known fact throughout all of McLaren HQ that Oscar Piastri loves sleep, but-

Yeah.

He's 'super tired.'

You fill your paper cup up with coffee, in deep thought about work, and nothing else. Just as you're about to walk back to your desk and get back to the work, as you're turning around, a smooth hand grabs your forearm, and you spill your coffee on your McLaren T-shirt in surprise. "O- Oscar!" you exclaim, stumbling a bit at the utter closeness. "H- Hi!?"

"Hi," he says with earnest eyes. "I'm.... sorry."

"It's okay. Luckily it wasn't too hot. Oh well. I'll just go change; I have an extra shirt, sorry about that! Anyway, see you around!" And then you're off, leaving your half-full coffee cup sitting on the counter.

Oscar is left standing there, staring at the cup, his hand still out from where he had touched your arm.

Alright then. Well, maybe it's not meant to be.

Oscar's terrible timing is that he calls you the moment you're sitting next to Lando in his car, talking.

Lando is yapping. "-so then the girl said some spunky comment or whatever, and she reminded me a lot of you. You know, because I would've been the tough macho man in the movie that saves you from the fucking murder men, ri- Wait, who's calling?" he inquires, leaning over closer.

You laugh a bit at the interruption of his silly talking, and don't even think to not let Lando see who's calling. "It's Oscar..." you say vaguely, before looking up to meet Lando's eyes. "Why would he be calling?"

Lando shrugs, a curious streak in his expression. "Well, pick up, and see."

So you do. "Hello, Oscar?"

"I'm sorry for spilling coffee on you today," he says immediately, which causes a small laugh to escape from your lips.

"Osc, it's fine. I spilled it on myself. Did you call just to say that?"

"No," he laughs. "I was just wondering if tomorrow night you wanted to hang out or something..."

"Oh... yeah, sure, that'll work for me."

"Oh, nice. Alright. Also, one more question. I swear it's not related, either."

"Go on?"

There's a few moments of silence, before you prompt, "Oscar, are you still there?"

"Yeah. So... I was just wondering... are you dating anyone? Because. I know you and Lando are pretty close friends, and I was just wondering."

"Oh!" you say in surprise, your cheeks involuntarily going pink. And, without thinking, or considering, at all, you blurt, "No, of course not! Just friends!"

Immediately, you feel guilty.

You in no way lied, but you still feel like you just did something wrong.

Both you and Lando would say you're just friends.

But more and more, neither of you seem to want that.

And if Oscar's interested in you...

Oh, God.

"Oh, alright." He sounds somewhat relieved, which makes your heart tighten even more. "Alright, sounds good. Want me to just drive you from work? We could leave, at like, 8:00 P.M.?"

"8:00? What on earth are you doing, leaving at 8:00 in the evening?"

"I have something in mind."

"Uh?"

"You'll see. Trust me?"

"Alright," you shrug, still feeling very unsure.

"Okay. See you later, Y/n."

"Bye bye, Osc," you say, before hanging up.

The moment you do, Lando leans in close, with wide eyes, "What did he say?"

"Just wants to hang out."

One of Lando's eyebrows cock up.

"Lan," you chuckle. "That's all it is. Just like... like, how you and me just hang out."

"Mmm'kay, then..." he nods slowly. He's silent for a few seconds, before commenting. "Lan. That's cute."

"You're cute," you blurt, again, not thinking.

You really should try that more. You know, the whole thinking thing. You're sure you'd get in a lot less trouble if you used that brain of yours once in a while.

Lando immediately shows a pleased, toothy grin. "That's more like it," he comments, slipping his hand into yours, before he starts driving. "Up for an evening drive?"

"Always. Lan."

He winks, bites his lip, and gets driving.

"So, where are we going?" you ask as you walk to Oscar's car.

"I'm not telling you."

"Well, you're wearing a McLaren hoodie and grey jeans, so... somewhere casual."

"Good guess," he smiles, unlocking his car.

He opens the passenger seat door for you and as you're getting in, a piece of paper flies out of your pocket. You feel a lump in your throat as Oscar, with his quick reflexes, snatches it up off the ground.

Formula 1 drivers suck.

"Ca- Can I have that?" you ask quickly.

"Sure," Oscar says, handing it to you.

But it landed facing up. There's no way he couldn't have read the little note from Lando on it.

As Oscar walks around to the other side of the car, you read it over in your shaking hand.

You seem down today angel. If you wanna talk just find me or text me; i'm always here to listen. -lando

You feel your stomach lurch.

He even signed it with his name! The idiot!

And you weren't down! Just deep in thought! About Oscar, actually.

You let air escape from your lungs. You can feel the concern, the tenseness radiating off of Oscar as he drives, before, finally, he says, "Listen, I'm sorry for-"

"I know you read it. It's fine. It's nearly impossible not to. I would have, too."

"Angel?"

You bite your lip, looking out the window. "That's, just, uh, how Lando is..."

He regrips the steering wheel. "Y/n, you know me. If you lied on the phone, I won't be mad. I just want to know."

"I didn't lie, Osc. Lando was sitting right there when you called. I didn't lie."

"What... What were you doing?"

"Just hanging out. Just the same as what we're doing right now. You're both just my friends, okay?"

"Right," he says, but the sound barely escapes his lips, in only a whisper.

Soon, you reach the destination, and you're surprised to see it's your house. "Oscar...? Why'd you bring me home?"

"You'll see," he says with a soft smile. You both get out of the car, and he grabs some stuff from out of the trunk, before walking onto the lawn. You watch with your eyebrows scrunched together as he lays out a blanket. He sits down on it and pulls out a few little packets from his pocket.

"What's that?" you demand, still standing.

He takes your hand and gently tugs you down next to him. "Are you still a Tim Tam addict?"

You grin, holding your hand out to take a pack. "Thanks. And yes, I am."

"You're the most Aussie to ever Aussie."

"I could say the same thing about you."

Suddenly, he flops down on the blanket, laying down on his back, and you finally get the memo. "Stargazing?" you ask him carefully.

"If that's okay with you."

You grin, laying down next to him. "Why not?"

You lie there, side by side, staring up, and Oscar starts talking.

Listening to Lando is different. Lando is excited. Like he likes you so much and just wants to tell you everything. He talks a lot and makes you laugh a lot. Like, doubling over giggling kind of laughing.

Oscar makes little jokes, but just enough to make you softly chuckle. He doesn't go on and on. He pauses, as if he's thinking about what to say next. For you, that's a little awkward sometimes.

You feel awkward in silence.

But you like both of their ways of yapping.

After a while, Oscar is silent for longer than before, and you ask, "You asleep?"

He chuckles. "Of course not."

"Wouldn't put it past you," you tease.

"Fair enough..." he sighs softly, before, suddenly, you feel his warm hand brush yours. And in the dark, his fingers find yours, and he holds your hand in his.

You don't know what to feel. But surprisingly, it's something good.

His hand is smoother than Lando's, but smaller. His knuckles and veins are more defined, and his fingernails feel rougher than Lando's.

Here you are, just comparing the two.

Is that wrong?

But his hand is also radiantly warm, sending heat throughout your chilly body, causing goosebumps to appear on your arms.

You lick your lips, murmuring, "It's kind of cold. Can we go inside?"

There's a few seconds of silence from your friend next to you, before he says, "If the problem is that you're cold, I could fix that."

You look over in surprise, meeting his glimmering eyes, which appear to be merely black orbs in the darkness of the night. "How?" you venture.

Suddenly, he pulls you close to him, enveloping your body with his warm. You gasp a little, your heart rate immediately quickening. All the sudden, you don't feel so cold.

All the sudden, you get why you had a crush on Oscar for years.

All the sudden, the feelings come rushing back.

And in the light of the fact that you feel the exact same things with Lando, you have absolutely no idea what to think, feel, or do.

"So, are you, like, a bowling kind of guy?"

Lando shrugs. "I'm a you kind of guy, so any excuse I can think of to go somewhere with you, I will."

"Brutally honest, no?"

"Nothing's brutal about it," he grins, sipping from his cheap beer. He sets it down and stands up to have his go, before plopping back down on the couch next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

"Lan," you chuckle. "You know, when you're bowling with only two people, as you've decided to do, there's not much time for cuddling in between turns." You say it lightheartedly. You don't mean anything by it.

But Lando does, apparently, because he says, "Ah, you know neither of his care about bowling. I care about you."

"Is this when I'm supposed to say I care about you, too?"

"Yeah, well, pretty much."

You lean closer, resting your head on Lando's shoulder. "I care about you, too. You're a great friend."

"Ah. Yeah, you too." He runs his hands through your hair for a while, before finally prompting you to take your turn. He stands up with you, as he has every time you've gone. You deliver the ball, but take just a step too forward, and slip.

Ah, fuck.

But suddenly, Lando grabs your wrist and pulls you back up, so you stumble right into him. He steadies you, wrapping his arms around you, and says, "Careful, there, Y/n. You okay?"

You clear your throat, blushing as butterflies swarm your stomach. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Thanks."

He smirks. "No problem. That's what friends are for, eh?"

So, they both like me. And I like both of them. They're both so different in their own ways, but I like them both for different reasons.

And both likely expect the other likes me.

But regardless, they're both getting closer and closer to me. And I'm starting to

"Y/n-"

You slam your notebook shut, looking up to see Oscar. He's brought you on a few more...

Well, if you were to call a spade a spade, you'd say 'dates.'

But you just can't do that, because then you'd be saying you're dating two guys at once.

Neither of them have officially asked you out. Neither have ever even gotten close to calling you their partner.

So, that's how you convince yourself there's nothing wrong with it.

So they're not dates. You just don't know what to call them.

Either way, since the Tim Tam Stargazing Romantically Cuddling Under The Moonlight Night, Oscar has also taken you to dinner for his birthday and to a museum.

Oscar is different. He plans stuff out and then asks you if you're available. Lando asks if you're available first, and then just sort of-

Well, you never plan with Lando. You just do and go what and where you want that day.

It's different.

And yet again, you couldn't say which you like better.

"Y/n?" Oscar repeats, sounding more concerned now, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Oh- yeah, what?"

He sits down next to you. "I know you'll be busy, just like the rest of us, since Miami is coming up fast, but..."

You smile nervously. "Yeah...?"

"Want to come over to my flat tonight? Or something?"

You swallow a lump in your throat as the picture of Lando's text from earlier today appears in your head.

I'm feeling good for Miami. Want to come over to my place tonight?

You had said 'sure.' You knew sometime soon, plans would overlap, and...

And that time is now.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Oscar asks, placing his hand on your shoulder. "You look pale."

"Just... uh... Lots of..." you clear your throat. "Lots of work to do before the Grand Prix. Just... you know, stressed. I don't think I'll be able to tonight. But thank you," you put on a weak smile.

Oscar's lips curl into a concerned, thin line, but he nods, taking his hand off your shoulder. "If you ever need someone to talk to, just remember- I'm right here."

Same exact words Lando says to me all the time.

"R- Right. Thank you, Osc."

He nods. "Of course."

As soon as he's gone, you text Lando, letting him know plans abruptly changed, and that you're busy tonight after all.

You end up being very busy laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, emotions swarming in your stomach as you come to the realization that you can't keep going on like this. Soon enough, you're going to either have to choose one and break the other's heart, or let go of both of them.

And for some reason, just that thought makes you start to cry.

The rush of adrenaline is enough to make you crazy. Enough to make someone do stupid things that they never, ever should.

But when Lando Norris, race winner Lando Norris, is there, in front of you, you scream his name. When he sees you, his whole face lights up, and he throws his arms around you, lifting you up. "Nice work!" You kiss him on the cheek.

He giggles. "Wouldn't have been able to do it without you and the whole team!"

"Ah, shut up and give yourself the credit for once."

He grins wider. "Yeah, I guess for once I do deserve it."

"Shut your face, loser- or, I guess, winner."

"No, you shut yours," he murmurs, and when he's sure no eyes or cameras are on you, pecks your lips, before pulling away and running off.

And you're left there, a dizzy mess of adrenaline and embarrassment.

Later, you're walking in McLaren, and suddenly, you hear Lando's voice, "Y/n, come here."

You look up to see him peeking out of his driver's room. "What?"

"Just come on. I've got something for you." He's looking at you like an excited little puppy.

You grin and shrug, walking in with him.

The door latches behind you.

"What have you got for me, Lan?" you ask, glancing around at his contained mess.

Suddenly, your back is against the wall, and Lando's face is merely inches away from yours. You gasp, staring at him, feeling his breath on your face. "This," he mutters softly, before his eyes flutter closed and his lips meet yours.

Excitement and guilt hit you at the same exact time.

But as Lando invites you, you lean into the kiss, and any thoughts of Oscar slowly leave you as you're consumed by the bliss of this intimate moment with Lando.

But when you finally pull away from each other, panting, you murmur, "We never, ever mention this again, okay, Lan?"

He just grins, his hand slowly caressing your cheek. "Of course. Friend."

You sigh shakily. "You supposed that was your little reward for winning your first race, huh? You already got a trophy."

"Ah, sure. But you're my real trophy."

Oh, Lando, and his so-called 'silver tongue.'

After literally just making out with Lando, it feels thoroughly terrible to pat Oscar's shoulder and tell him 'sorry' about P13. Yet you manage to keep composure, despite the heavy guilt, as you say, "It's just the luck of the draw sometimes, no? But there's always next race."

You want to break down crying. You want to say something, but at the same time, you don't.

You don't regret kissing Lando.

You like him.

You think you have a better chance with him than you do with Oscar.

But you like Oscar, too. And just doing that feels like...

A betrayal.

No matter how much you say you're just friends, when do labels stop counting?

Your head is absolutely spinning. You feel sick.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Lando asks, surprised to see you sitting in the hallway outside the offices, back in McLaren HQ, hugging your knees to your chest, staring somewhat vacantly, at nothing whatsoever.

"Hm? Hi, Lando," you say tiredly.

He slips down the wall next to you and says gently, taking your hand. "You can tell me. You haven't been yourself lately."

You swallow but don't respond.

He squeezes your hand and whispers, "Was it the kiss? Y/n, I'm sorry... I didn't-"

"No, no... It's... nothing."

Lando sighs. "So I take it I won't be able to be getting you to talk, huh?"

"S'pose not..." you sigh. There's no way you're telling him. He's fifty percent of the problem.

And Oscar's the other fifty.

So he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back softly. You automatically lean your head into his chest, and he presses his lips into your scalp, gently kissing your hair. "I'll be ready to listen whenever you're ready to talk. But if you never are, I'll be here for you anyw-"

"What the-"

Both of you look up in shock to see Oscar looking right back at you.

Oscar's teeth clench. He's usually, nearly always, such a calm person. But now he doesn't look angry. He just look deeply hurt.

You bite back a very sudden sob.

And out of his hurt, for once, Oscar Piastri doesn't think before he speaks, and the bitter words fly out of his mouth: "Alright then! Just lie to me! Just give me fucking false hope for no reason, Y/n! That's great! Thanks a lot! Thank you! Lando, why don't you keep comforting her? Clearly she'd like that much more than anything I have to offer."

And then he turns on his heel and walks away, down the hall.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Lando snaps indignantly. "The asshole!"

Oh, Lando. He doesn't know. Not one bit.

"You stay here," he suddenly says angrily. "I'm going after him."

"Lando..." you sigh, burying your face in your hands. "Please, no..."

"Y/n..." Lando looks at you, uncertain.

You sigh again. "Okay, whatever." It's not like it can get any worse, can it?

So then Lando's off, and you're left to drown in your complete and utter regret.

Lando jogs down the hall, and the moment he sees Oscar's back in front of him, walking away from him, he calls, "Oscar, wait up."

He spins on his heel to face the Brit. His jaw is tight, and his eyes tender. "What?" he breathes.

"What the hell, man? What's wrong?"

"I'm not blind, Lando," Oscar sighs, leaning his back against the wall, shutting his eyes, tilting his face up towards the ceiling.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lando demands, facing him.

"I know you two are dating. It's fine. I was kidding myself. Playing pretend, yeah? Just like me and Y/n used to always do. It's fine. You know I'm the type of guy to adjust. I always do. That's what I've learnt. So, I wish you two luck, but I ought to be off now." Oscar then leans off the wall to keep walking away.

But Lando grabs his shoulder. "What? I still don't get it?"

"It doesn't matter. Forget this ever happened." The Australian doesn't sound bitter or angry anymore. Disappointed and resigned, for sure, but also accepting. "It's for the best. Just go comfort your girlfriend. She needs it."

"She's not- I mean- we- I-" Lando trails off, at a complete loss for words.

Oscar stares ahead, not facing Lando. "Lando, I like you. Let's not make this dramatic. I'm sorry; I slipped. Should have kept it to myself. Like I have for years. Never should have said a word."

"I..." Lando begins, but stops. "Oscar, I..."

"You don't know what to say?" Oscar asks, suddenly looking over to Lando with an actual, genuine smile on his face, surprisingly enough. "That's okay. Probably means you shouldn't say anything. Maybe you talk too much sometimes anyway."

It's just meant to me a light, friendly tease, but in this situation, it doesn't seem right. Knots twist up in Lando's stomach, and Oscar's words don't feel like a joke at all.

Lando knows more needs to be said, but there's nothing more to say.

Then, suddenly, to his somewhat shock, Lando hears your voice behind him. "Oscar," you say, walking toward the McLaren driver. You swallow. Keeping composure.

Oscar looks at you expectantly, tentatively taking a step forward, almost involuntarily.

You suddenly throw your arms around him in a hug.

"Hey, Osc," you begin whispering. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what it might look like. But me and Lando are just friends, just like you and me are just friends. Like I said before- Lando is just like that. Besides, if you saw me sad, wouldn't you help me out in just the same way?"

"I... uh... O- Of course..."

"See? So there's nothing to be upset about. I wasn't lying to you."

Oscar's unsure eyes soften, and his eyebrows scrunch together. "I- Alright... Okay. Uhm."

"I forgive you, Oscar. It's okay," you smile gently, stroking his cheek.

You want to throw up.

Y/n. You lying, evil snake. Listen to yourself. So manipulative, and for what?

To save yourself.

To save Oscar.

But it is all selfish though, isn't it?

You're just trying to cover all your bases.

You take your hand away from Oscar's warm skin and say simply, "Lando- I think my problem earlier was just that I'm not feeling very well... Must have picked up some kind of virus... I... I should be getting home now."

And you run out, leaving the two McLaren boys standing there in the hallway, both absolutely speechless.

After quite an awkward week or so, the Imola GP comes around, and, like racing always does for you, the passion is too much to let any barriers soften your excitement.

You see Oscar first, who you congratulate with a high five. But he hugs you, saying, "How are you?"

"Huh?" you ask in surprise. "Great! Another super solid weekend for the team. P4 for you!"

"Hah, yeah," he smiles. "Well, I'm glad you're doing just as good as I am."

And later, wen you see Lando, your first comment is, "You could have won this one, too!"

"I know!" he laughs. "After knowing how it feels, P2 doesn't seem so glorious."

You click your tongue. "Don't worry, Lando. It'll come."

Well, in that following week, somehow, the two busy drivers both find times to ask you out.

As friends.

Lando tries to pry out of you what really happened that day with Oscar. You refuse to say it. Say it's personal, having to do with things from yours and Oscar's childhood.

More twisting the truth.

You're starting to hate how good you are at these disgusting games.

When you go to dinner with Oscar, it hurts your heart to see how trusting he seems. Even after it all, he thinks he's the one in the wrong. And he thinks all is well. That nothing wrong is happening. He asks you one more time if you're dating Lando.

You say no.

Because you're not.

Right?

And then, it seems, before someone can say 'I'm in love with two McLaren Formula 1 drivers,' you're walking into the Monaco paddock, the week flies by so fast.

You love Monaco. Doesn't everyone? It's one of the best Grand Prixs of the season in your opinion, if not the best. The atmosphere, the sea, the people- it's all just slightly different in Monaco.

Everything shines brighter in Monaco.

And, apparently, you do, too, because both Lando and Oscar are being particularly affectionate towards you this weekend. You can't tell if you like it, or if it's stressing you out. Likely both.

"So... Piastri-Leclerc, is it?" you ask Oscar with a chuckle.

"Yeah, that's right," Oscar says with a little chuckle.

Suddenly, one of your other coworkers nudges you and says teasingly, loud enough for Oscar to hear, "Ah, Y/n, that means you'll have to be Y/n Piastri-Leclerc when you marry him. What do you feel about that?"

Before you can say anything, Lando seems to materialize out of the depths of the McLaren garage to comment, "You know, Y/n Norris has got a lot better ring to it."

"The confidence!" your coworker laughs at Lando as Lando laughs genuinely and you and Oscar likely laugh more nervously than anything else.

That night, as you lay in the bed in your hotel room, you're having a sinking feeling, deep down in your chest, that soon enough, you'll have to choose.

You'll have to make a decision.

If you keep up this game any longer, one of you are going to get killed in the process.

You just have to be honest.

Who do you love more? Who would be better for you?

You've known Oscar longer. You connect with him better.

But you enjoy being with Lando more. You have more of the same interests.

Lando is always positive and confident. Oscar is always sensible and even-keeled, relaxed, and calm.

Lando's wild card or Oscar's solid rock?

They both care for and about you so, so much.

Oscar for all these years, was too scared to admit how he felt to you, and was only convinced to confess it when he saw how you and Lando were with each other.

So, essentially, jealousy was what convinced him to admit his feelings.

He hasn't even admitted it.

Lando has, many times. You've got Lando's number. He's straight with you. He's not scared to say it.

But at the same time... you've never believed in soulmates, but there's definitely something to the story of your life, and the way it always seemed to result in Oscar. He was always the one at the end of every tunnel.

You've known Oscar for a lifetime. You've known Lando for... what, two years?

You sigh deeply.

What the hell?

"P2, Oscar! P2! In Monaco!"

He's laughing as you throw your arms around him this time. Lando's there, patting him on the back. "Nice job, mate," he congratulates.

"Yeah, mate! Nice job is right!" you giggle.

Oscar leans away, beaming.

Then, as soon as Lando walks off, Oscar kisses your cheek gently, just letting his soft lips brush your cheek.

Your breath catches in your throat.

"Would it... would it be okay if I kissed you later? For real?"

You swallow. "We'll see about that."

But Oscar just smiles. "Will I have to wait until I win a race, too, to get a kiss out of you?"

You laugh, but a lump rises in your throat.

Why is he talking as if he knows?

"Y- Yeah," you breathe. "I reckon so."

He nods and leans away. "Well, happy birthday, Y/n! I've got something for you!" He's about to pull you by your hand, when suddenly, another hand grabs your other hand.

"Wanna see your birthday gift, Y/n?"

You look up to see Lando.

Literally, both of them, about to pull you separate directions.

Yeah, you think almost scornfully, That's right. You can each have a hand.

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 7 ✿:+ Fork In The Road.

1-2-3-4-5-6-_-8

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: SMUT MDNI, afab reader, cock warming, P in V sex, unprotected sex (Wrap it up), Fem Dom (if you squint), VIOLENCE, misogyny, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage, 

A/N: this was part of a much longer chapter so the next chapter should come out pretty soon too teeheehee. 

Word Count: 4437

You remembered the first night at kings landing alone. without your fathers protection, you missed, no matter how futile it might have been. 

you wanted to scream and cry “father keep me, father stay with me, father hold me” but you couldn’t. you couldn’t make a sound. you felt numb, if someone had sliced your hand open with a blade you’d not have noticed. sometimes tears would fall from your eyes straight into the ground and you’d not even noticed you were tearing up. 

that’s the hardest part of being so hard was that when you cracked it shattered more than you noticed. more than you’d be comfortable admitting even to yourself. 

when you mother and brother died your father feared you’d be turn mute for good. 

that’s what intrigued Sandor most. 

you suffered silently. you suffered with expertise. 

once he’d known your heart. your loyalty, devotion, and your fearlessness was when his fascination turned into something deeper. He thought it was obsession and maybe it was, but it was more personal than that too. Poets would call it love. He’d call it nothing. He’d never spoken of it therefore it had no language. It was just what he felt, he knew he cared that was it and that was all he’d admit. 

A day had past since your escape. You both were hungry, he especially. 

You were beginning to enjoy the freedom that came with this new way of life, however. There were downsides. The constant exposure to the elements, the lack of food, hot water, and the lingering fear. Fear of being caught, fear of what was happening now to your cousin, and what Loras would think of you leaving. 

But you had freedom, no more hand maidens pawing at you the moment you woke up to the moment you fell asleep. You no longer had to endure the torment of the Lannister's. No longer had to marry a man you didn’t love, not really anyway. 

As you rode that day, you stopped to water the horses. As you did, a group of five men were riding down the trail behind you. You looked back at them as you heard the sound of their horses trotting. 

“Don’t look at em’” Sandor grumbled, not looking at you. You looked back to, Lika. 

You pet Lika, trying to distract yourself as you felt a pit in your stomach. A pit of dreadful anxiety. You always felt that same anxiety every time you knew something terrible was coming. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look at em’." He grumbled even lower this time as the men came closer. You looked at him and he was looking right back at you. Until his gaze went back to the water Stranger was drinking from. 

It was a large watering hole, so it wasn’t surprising to Sandor when the five men stopped there as well to water their horses. 

As soon as they did, Sandor walked closer towards you, guarding their view of you with his form. 

The group of men were a little rowdy, and they looked over to you and Sandor. 

“Hello there, friends!” A bald man shouted, and your stomach dropped. 

Sandor looked over at the man, show him that permanent scowl on his face.

“I know you, you’re the hound, Joffrey's Dog.” A man with longer hair shouted again.

“How far til Saltpans?” The hound asked ignoring the mans comment. 

“I reckon a day. Maybe another if you’re unlucky.” The bald man said. 

Sandor took the answer and left it at that. Looking away. 

“What’re you doing out there? Far from Kings Landing.” The Stout man said.

“I heard Joffrey's hound ran from the battle of the blackwater.” A tall and dark man said, he seemed angrier than the other men. 

His tone made Lika spook slightly.

“Easy.” You whispered to Lika, stroking her snout. 

“Pretty creature you got there.” the stout man said, you had the feeling he wasn’t talking about Lika, his eyes were on you.

Sandor stepped in front of the mans view of you, “You’ve got food there?” The men had sacks of what looked like food, and a lot of it. “Bring me it.” 

“You got something to trade for it?” The tall man asked

“Not a thing.” The Hound said, it made you want to roll into a ball. He was aggressively confident. 

“Now Dog, we know that ain’t true.” The tall man said tilting his head to get a better look at you. 

“Your cunt friend speaks like that again and I’ll cut out his fucking tongue.” The Hound hissed

“Oh but he’s right the crowns offering a pretty penny for you my friend.” The bald man said.

“And you think you’re the ones to collect it?” The Hound asked with his eyebrows raised.

“Five of us, one of you, and the girl.” The taller man taunted.

“Tell you what, we’ll make a deal with you. It’s been a long journey for the five of us. We don’t want the trouble. We’ll let you go even give ye’ some of our food… for a go at your pretty friend there.” The stout man tried to ‘reason’ with the group.

“Fuck you.” You said with the same ever present venom in your voice. 

The group of men began to laugh at your words, but when the Hound stepped forward with his grip on the tilt of his sword made their laughter falter. 

“Ye have any fuckin’ sense you’ll drop the food and leave.” The Hound spoke coldly.

“You don’t seem to understand the situation.” The tall man spoke. 

“I understand if any more words come pouring out any one of yer cunt mouths, I’m gon’ have to kill each one ye.” He stepped forward once more

“You gonna die for some broken in whore-” The stout man wasn’t able to finish his sentence before The Hound stormed towards them. The men caught off guard were late to draw their swords. 

The first to go was the closest to him, the bald one. Unable to draw his sword in time, the Hound cut him down, nearly in half with one blow. You’d never seen anything like it, no, you had. It was like when Gregor cut his horse in half with one blow. You could stew on that thought long before he moved on to the next man.

The tall one, who at that point was able to draw his sword. Their swords clashed together, the Hound kicked his knees in, making the man drop to the ground. That's when he plunged his sword into his chest. He huffed as he retracted it from the mans body. 

He moved forward to the next man, a man with long hair. He seemed startled by the whole scene unfolding. He threw his sword to the ground and raised his hands up quitting. Sandor rolled his eyes and huffed in frustration, he lowered his sword and punched the man so hard his neck must have snapped. 

As the man hit the ground Sandor approached the stout man who said the final words that broke him. The stout man tried to climb his horse but Sandor pulled him down to the ground. Sandor loomed over him as he began to beat him with his hands.

“Say it again!” he shouted again and again as his fist plummeted into the man’s face again and again. 

You were so entranced by this violent dance unfolding in front of you, you’d hardly realized he’d only killed three men, the fourth was under his fist now, and the fifth was… 

“Sandor!” You shouted as the fifth man jumped onto his back. The man was able to cut the Hounds cheek with his nails, deeper than one would expect. The man tried to strangle him from behind, but Sandor was too tall and too wide for the man to. Sandor got ahold of the man, as he did Sandor managed to snap his neck. 

He turned his attention back to the stout man who was still breathing.  

Sandor took out his knife and stabbed it into the mans heart, wiped the blood on the mans sleeve. 

He approached you, he was covered in blood. Huffing and puffing, he put his blade back in its sheave. He picked you up by your waist and sat you on Lika. 

“Sandor…” You mumbled as you looked down at your clothes that he inadvertently smeared blood on. 

He grumbled something that sounded something like “Sorry”, as he walked back over to the bundles of food still attached to the abandoned horses. As he untied each one, and carried all of them back to your horses, you couldn’t help but admire his strength. One man would struggle to carry just one but he could called all three without struggle.

꒰ ୨୧ ─・┈ ꒱꒱

You had washed your pants, your wool sweater, and Sandor's armor, in the water after the attack. They laid out on a near rock as they dried. You two sat beside one another in front of a warm fire. 

Sandor sloppily shoveled meat and bread into his mouth with his large brutish hands. You watched him, in awe. How he could have killed five men and less than an hour later be eating like a king. 

“Eat.” Sandor said with a mouth full of food. you shook your head, “Fuck-” He hissed under his breathe, ripping a piece of meat off and holding it up to your mouth, “I’m not that imp lord, I won’t let you starve. You can eat it or I'll make you eat it.” You pouted a little, looking from his eyes to the piece of food in his hands. You took his wrist and moved his hand closer to your mouth as you ate in as he wished, from his fingers. 

As you chewed it your face scrunched up, “It’s-” 

“Shit” He said shoveling more into his mouth.

“Hardly worth dying for.” You said as you grabbed some bread, hoping it’d be better than the meat.

“Those cunts didn’t die for the fucking food.” Sandor grumbled, 

You stopped chewing for a moment and looked at him. His words, brutal but in some indecent way romantic. He’d kill five man for simply insulting you.

You watched him eat, in... adoration? Awe? Who knows. You watched him eat, and noticed the cut on his face still bleeding.

“Your face-“ You said reaching out to touch his cut cheek, he grabbed your wrist stopping you, “Stop it.” You rolled your eyes as you commanded and he actually gave in, letting go of your wrist. You ran you hand against his cheek, he looked down, avoiding your eyes. He pushed away his food, “come here.” You spoke softly. Instead of him coming closer he pulled you onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around you.

You used your sleeve to tap the blood away from his cut. Dapping at it trying to stop the bleeding.

“I told you… no one is ever gonna hurt you again.” He whispered, looking into your eyes.

“I don’t want you hurt either.” You said still trying to stop his bleeding,

“Too late for that.” He grumbled.

You leaned in and kissed his lips incredibly gently, running your hands against the sides of his face, letting them run down to his neck.

“I don’t deserve this,” He rasped as your lips parted, 

You kissed his nose, “Too late for that.” You gently rubbed your nose against his own just before you kissed him again.

You kissed him deeper, but softly. His hands ran through your hair. He admired the length of it, the texture of it, the color of it, and the smell of it. 

You moved you leg over his lap. He kept at petting your hair, his hands traveled down to your lower back, the other to your thigh. You knew he was going to push you onto your back. So you stopped him, moving his hands to your hips. “Gentle” You whispered into his mouth. 

You began to rock your hips back and forth against his now stiffening cock. He groaned into your mouth. Your kisses still soft and gentle, but now increasingly sloppy. 

You felt his hands begin to ready himself to flip you on your back again. So once again you stopped him. “A mans meant to fuck his woman.” 

“I’m your lady?” You teased him with a subtle smirk as you kissed his jaw

“Well, youre not anyone else’s that for fuckin' sure.”

You pulled his cock out, grinding your clothed cunt against it, rocking your hips against it making his thighs flex involuntarily. He began to paw at your small clothes. 

“I’ll fucking rip these off you if you don’t take em off.” 

You grabbed him by his jaw with both your hands forcing him to look you in the eyes. “I told you to be gentle.” Your grip softened as his hands wrapped around your back. “Let me be sweet for you.” You whispered into his mouth. 

You moved your small clothes to the side and pushed his cock inside of you, slowly. You were wet, but not wet enough for it to not sting a little. 

You winced a little, “Nphm” You whined a little. 

“Thats what happens when you don’t let me-” You cut him off by kissing him again, 

Once his cock was in you, just barely brushing your cervix, you stopped moving. You just held him while you kissed him. 

He bucked his hips, hitting your cervix in a way that made you arch your back.  

“Don’t move,” You whispered in his ear, licking and nibbling on it lightly.

“The fuck are you doing-” he growled but then let out a small moan from your tongue on his ear.

“Shut up.” You said into his ear in a breathless moan as you felt yourself getting wetter. Fitting him better, molding around his now familiar shape. 

It made him growl under his breathe, gripping onto the plushness of your hips. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, woma-” You cut him off again kissing him deeply, sucking on his tongue. He moaned into your mouth, and he bit your lip. 

You lifted your tunic over your head, tossing it beside you. You still had on the top half of your small clothes. 

Sandor leaned down and began sucking at your breasts through the fabric, his hands caressing them gently. But his grip tightened as you let out a moan and he felt you tighten around his cock. 

He growled into your breasts, the vibration from it made you even wetter, soaking his cock and only making it easier for him to sink in deeper, pushing against your cervix. 

He then discarded his own tunic, “Take that off-” His voice rumbled, so you did. You took off the top half of your small clothes. His mouth returned to your breasts, swearing against your skin, you could feel him pulsing inside you. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to fuck. Not be fucked, but you needed to fuck.

You rolled your hips and it made him bite down on the plush skin of your breast which made you mewl. You stopped after moving just the once, 

“You want more?” You asked petting the hair on his head

“Fuck do you think?” You grabbed him by his jaw and chin, forcing him to look at you. 

“I won’t do it if you don’t ask.” your hand trailed from his chin to his throat, squeezing it a little before dragging your nails down his chest. He bit his lip smirking a little, not letting allowing himself to ask, his pride stopping him. “No? Alright then.” 

“Please..” He said through gritted teeth, 

“What was that?” You teased him,

He grabbed your throat and pulled you to his mouth, “please…” He said again this time biting your lip.

You began to grind yourself on his cock. At this point you were so wet you did it with ease, it was all pleasure. You moaned into his mouth as he kept his grip on your throat. 

“Fuck” He cursed into your neck as he licked and nipped at the skin, “At’s it-  fuck me-” He whispered against your bruising skin. 

“Nmm- Ah! Sandor-” You moaned into his ear as you clawed at his back. 

“Taking me so-” He grunted, gritted his teeth “So fucking good!” He struggled to say without grunting. 

Your legs began to feel weaker, and weaker, shaking. Fucking was a new skill you’d obtained and this part was just as new. You knew you couldn’t keep bouncing yourself on his cock alone. But rather than admit failure, you licked his ear, and moaned into it “Sandor, mmmphm, please, I need you to fuck me,” 

Without hesitation his hands went to your ass, bouncing you on his cock. “Ah!” You moaned again and again, your breasts bounced against his chest, making you only that much wetter. You pressed your cheek against his, constantly moaning directly in his ear. It drove him mad. You could feel yourself coming undone, “I’m cuming!” You whined against his face. He turned his head slightly to kiss your cheek sloppily, 

“Good, do it, cum on my cock, Birdy.” He groaned into your ear. 

You felt your legs spasm, and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, squeezing down his shoulders tight, digging your nails into his skin. You buried your face in his neck as you reached your peak, you moaned so loud, it could’ve been a scream. 

He took your face from his neck, holding it so you’d look him in the eyes, he brushed the hair from your face, “How’d that feel, Birdy?” Strangely gentle. You kissed his lips sloppily, 

“Keep going,” You panted into his mouth. To which he obeyed, pumping in and out of you with an increasingly erratic pace.

He looked down at your cunt sucking him back in, the thick ring of cream you created around his cock, the way your thighs were shaking, it was beginning to be too much for him.

His hand tangled in your hair, foreheads resting on one another, moaning into each others mouths, the way his hands made you feel safe. 

“Sandor,” You couldn’t stop the words from coming, “I love you.” You moaned breathlessly, you hoped he didn’t hear but he did, it sent him over the edge unexpectedly. 

He melted in you, you felt the heat spreading in your core.

As you laid against his chest, sweating, panting, exhausted, he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, “Love you..” 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The next morning you woke in his arms. You both got dressed, and no real words were spoken.

As you readied Lika, Sandor came up behind you. 

He put a piece of bread in your hands. As you looked at it, he wrapped one hand around your waist and leaned down to smell your hair.

You just smiled to yourself, looking at the piece of bread. 

He patted your behind quickly, “Hurry up, got a long ways to go.” 

Just as you were about to mount Lika, you and Sandor heard the sounds of at least twenty horses galloping closer and closer, and the sounds of men. 

Sandor wasted no time picking you up and putting you on Lika.

“Go, take off that way and don’t stop-” He growled at you 

“I can’t leave you-“ You tried to plea with him, 

“Did it sound like a fucking question? Get the fuck out of here!” He shouted at you,

“No!” You shouted back with the same ferocity as he did. 

“Stubborn bitch.” He said under his breathe, “Take this,” It was his dagger. “That ways North, keep going til I get you or you get to the Starks.” He said,

“Sandor-” You began but he hit Lika and yelled, making her take off with you on her. You couldn’t get her to stop, all you could do was look back and watch as a group of men surrounded the man you loved. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

It was miles til Lika was calmed enough to respond to your commands. By then it was no use. No point in going back, you knew if he needed help you weren’t able to give it. 

Once you found a small creek you decided to stop let Lika drink.

As she drank, you sat there, wondering what to do. 

Who were those men? Where they Lannister men? Raiders? Should you wait for him? He said he’d come, was he trying to give you hope? Unlikely, he wouldn’t be so cruel. As you were contemplating, 

“My Lady Arryn!” It startled you, no one had referred to you as a Lady in so long, much less your house name. 

You turned to see a older but handsome knight, in pretty silver armor. He had a blue cape. And was riding on a large Brown horse. 

“Who are you?” You held out your dagger at him,

“Ser Varys Cole of the Vale, my Lady. I didn’t recognize you in those clothes, but how could any knight forget such a vision once he’s seen it.” 

“Ser Cole? You served my father.”

“Indeed I did, My Lady.” You eyes still watched him like a… well a falcon, “So perhaps given the circumstances, you could lower your weapon?” He said with a smile,

So you did, trying to play the cards in your hand. “Ser Cole, I require your assistance, I need to find Robb Stark.” 

He looked down regretfully, “My Lady, I am afraid I cannot assist you with such a task.” 

“Why not?” You pressed, 

“I am under the order of Lord Baelish to bring you to him directly.” 

“The Vale is under the direct protection and order of the Arryns as it has been for generations, and you take your order from Baelish, not I?”  You asked with furrowed brows and beady eyes,

“I am afraid so my lady.” 

You looked at him with disgust, you walked back towards Lika. “Leave me then, I shall find my own way.” 

“I am afraid I cannot allow that, my Lady.” He said, you looked back at him with a harsh gaze.

“You can, leave me. Just go and I won’t speak a word of it.” 

“My Lady, your father would want me to see you to safety.” 

“You believe safety is with Little Finger?” You questioned him like he were a child. 

“It’s not out here.” He said looking around, you hoped Sandor would ride up and cut him down. “My Lady if you do not come willing I have orders to take you in ropes. I’d prefer you untied. So would your father.” It only angered you more that he mentioned your father so much. 

You wanted your dog.

“I will not go to Kings Landing.” You said sternly, gripping on to your dagger. 

“No my lady, I’ve been instructed to take you Lord Baelish.” He said as if it were an improvement. 

You held the dagger in your hand. your thumb brushing the handle of the blade. You contemplated it. You could kill him. maybe. steal his armor, his sword. Travel north until you got to Winterfell. But that’s all to say you could take the armored man in combat, and that no one else along your journey would try to kill you either. 

“How far?” You asked, hoping he’d say it’d be a two days journey to him. So you could run at night. 

“Lord Baelish is occupying an Inn near by. He had a feeling you’d be around this area.” He was lucky you got separated from Sandor in that case.

He got off his horse and walked towards you, “You can go on your horse, My Lady. Or you can go in ropes.” 

“Ropes.” You said, you pulled your dagger our and stabbed him in his leg, but he grabbed your wrist before you could remove it. 

He gritted his teeth, “That was not necessary, my Lady.”

He pinned you on your back and tied your hands together. Placed you on your horse, then tied your horse to his own. All the while limping. 

“Forgive me, My Lady.” 

He said as he rode on, you prayed to all the Gods, old and new, for Sandor to be around a tree. For him to come up the rode, for him to kill this man, for him to untie you, and be in his arms again. 

But no.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As you arrived at the Inn, Ser Cole carried you off your horse. You wanted to kill him for even touching you. He placed you on the ground and guided you to Little Fingers chambers. 

“What is this? Untie the girl!” Petyr ordered,

“Yes, My Lord.” Ser Cole did as he asked. 

“Leave us,”

“Yes, My Lord.” 

Ser Cole left the room.

You rubbed your wrists and stared daggers at Baelish, you wanted to kill him right then. 

But the knight outside the door would have killed you too, you’d have to wait til you had your dog.

“A sight for weary eyes, my lady. Even in rags.” He said with a twisted grin. 

“Don’t take me back there, to Kings Landing.” You asked, but it sounded more like a command.

“If you wished to escape why wouldn’t you have asked me, you know I would have done anything-” 

“You had ample time to help me and chose not to.” You interrupted him,

“You and Lord Tyrion seemed contented.”

“And you seemed contented to watch.” 

“I know he has been positively bereft in your absence.” You felt your stomach drop. You’d wondered on him, for a moment, but you assumed he’d be fine.

“Lord Tyrion is a decent man,” You said with concern in your voice.

“Then why not marry him?”

“Because I am not a decent woman.” You blurted out with venom,  “I rather you kill me then go back there.” You threatened. 

“I’d never do such a thing,” He ran his finers against the skin of your forearm. Sandor would have cut his fingers off for it, you thought. You raised an eyebrow at him. “I asked your father for your hand, did you know this?”

You swallowed, “I did.” 

“Do you know why I did?” You felt sick, a pit in your stomach, that same pit of dread.

“You want the Vale-”

“I wanted you.” He said as he leaned in and kissed your lips. Your lips did not move and your eyes stayed open. Sandor would have cut his throat for that, you thought. 

As he pulled away you pressed your lips together and looked down. 

“You aren’t taking me to Kings Landing are you?” You whispered. 

“No, no my lady I am not.”

NOTE: Hey all you cool cats and kittens, sorry if you had to wait a little for this one. It is a longer chapter so I hope it satisfies you or a lil.  Also I know, I know, the ending is a bit of a bummer, reading angst is never as fun as writing it but distance makes the heart grow fonder or whatever.  I also gave you sub Sandor so like…. You're actually so welcome. 

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[malaierba]

I kinda do believe that Toshiro IS afraid of being head of his household.

He's barely made any decisions of his own his whole life. Only time he did was to save someone he cared about. He's too used to the comfort of obedience, I think he believes it absolves him of participating in the activities of a household that does things in a way he disagrees with.

What kind of things you ask? Mainly how those bound to it are treated, I think:

He's angry at Maizuru when he learns about the flying hag that chased him as a kid being her doing.

He let's Izutsumi/Asebi go. There's two translations going around of the scene where Maizuru informs him that she's missing. I've seen bilingual Japanese users on twitter say that the one where he goes "She'll find her way back if she wants to" is more appropriate, it carries the intention of him letting her go. Saying "just leave her" is probably what a native English speaker assumed to be the more straightforward intention.

When he tells Laios about how Tade was probably in a very bad situation because she saw his dad (who he doesn't respect at all) as a saviour he says "I wanna speak to her". He doesn't because, passivity man, but, I get the feeling he wanted to tell her "he's still not a good person, Tade". I get the feeling he'd allow her to leave after Izutsumi if they were ever in a situation where he can actually be the decision maker.

He apologises to his party for dragging them down to confront the Faligon. Remember how that was all of those guyses first death in a dungeon? I've said this but. Man saw them get wipped. Childhood friend AND mom figure died in front of his eyes, and I know that's normal in a dungeon, but jeez. His mom-adjacent figure. His "MOM". idk I'd be messed up, unrelated but I think Laios is definitely suppressing how much it affected him to see Falin be eaten, be turned, be stabbed, etc etc. He's definitely an "I'll focus on problem solving to avoid looking at my emotions" type of guy.

During the fight he asks Laios "what about me is strong?". If you'll remember, Laios said that in the original party, Toshiro was in charge of finding an opening and dealing the killing blows. I wonder if he felt burdened, responsible for their failure then?

If he takes failure that hard when he's just following orders, I can see him feeling anxious about the prospect of failure when he's the one issuing them. It's probably why he comes across as so half-hearted with the whole "earn the right to be the next Head of the Clan" thing.

Not to mention, I remember seeing someone on X say, "the big gap between Toshiro and his baby brothers (13 years) is probably because Toshitsugu originally just wanted one (1) heir out of his arranged marriage to Toshiro's mom, since he actually loved Maizuru. But then he decided that Toshiro wasn't made of whatever was necessary to be a leader of their shady ass clan, so he had another two kids as backup".

If Toshiro is aware of that, fuck man, what kind of confidence is he going to have 😵

But, it's also a shame, right? Because he's explicitly empathetic. I think that's the meaning of him being shown playing with bugs as a kid, being coded as kind of softhearted. He empathises with things/beings he "shouldn't". But he's also obedient, he's always masking, so he has a hard time showing it explicitly. Honestly, the fact that he has that discussion about Tade with Laios is impressive imo, he trusts him and feels more comfortable with him than he lets on. He should NOT say the same thing to Maizuru or Hien, even though he respects them and cares for them.

If he had a bit of a spine, he'd be good for the people in the household. Probably bizarre in a way that even his dad can't predict, and maybe wouldn't like (he likes weirdos but only when it means chaos and fun it seems?). Maybe there'd be infighting. He just doesn't agree with the way his dad does too many things.

On the other hand, I also kinda think he should just take Tade and fuck off back to Melini lol. Become a bodyguard for Laios, help a bit with politics. What's for him in Wa anyway? An Estranged family and friends he doesn't fit with anymore. I think he'd be more likely to feel homesick for his friends in Melini than the Nakamoto household.

In any case I hope that Falin encouraging him to be more of an active participant of his own life has an everlasting effect on him. Even if he's afraid of shouldering that responsibility.