#but fr tho this is so good

[lonelyladyghost]

reminding myself that I searched for this so I can't really blame anyone but myself for my misery rn

⬆️that's me rn cuz I have a class in 6 hours

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 6

summary ;; This is the reality of Jake Sully: the father and Olo'eyktan of the People cannot coexist, Eywa teaches her lessons in the toughest ways. PART 5 | NEXT (wip) pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; well this took a hot minute. am back on my bs WARNING for violence and t0rture, reader discretion is advised. Please excuse my mistakes if you see any!

Jake moved on pure primitive instinct, unbridled arctic rage honing all his senses into one laser point of focus. It wasn’t survival, and it surely wasn’t prey running from predator, there was nothing noble about what he was trying to achieve. 

That avatar was going to die today, and Jake was going to make it hurt. No fair game. No warrior’s death. No respect. 

Devoid of the shape of humanity or the ties that bound him to it, he was the embodiment of a creature’s killer intent, body taking over and consciousness disappearing to the backseat as he catapulted his tomahawk at the avatar, taking advantage of the miniscule opening provided by a magazine change needed after emptying all of his bullets to a Jake luring him into wasting his resources away. 

The dull squelch of the hand-carved ax’s head plunging into flesh couldn’t be dampened by the avatar’s choked and short shout, and Jake was jumping out of cover in no time, a bull to red, advancing towards the man, footsteps not hidden out of having no concern for it at all, let him panic or try to struggle for all Jake cared. 

Opposite of what he expected, the rifle wasn’t picked up or fumbled to aim at him. The avatar, pale in the face and pupils having devoured the yellow, fear trumping the pain of his arm almost sliced off from shoulder, crawled away on his back from Jake in full speed, getting up before Jake could reach him, and started staggering into the forest, dropping the tomahawk in the process. 

Jake stopped in his tracks for a moment and picked his weapon up, the dark liquid glistening purple in the light of the Tree of Souls, droplets of blood making the moss light up as they hit the ground. His chest heaved in controlled, loud breaths, mouth pulled back in a snarl, watching the pathetic son of a bitch trying to get away. 

He was one of the lot who’d shot you, hurt you, tortured you — simply to get a reaction out of Jake. 

He was the one who pulled Jake away before he could fix his mistakes, undo the damage they had done, and get you back. 

Jake was so close. So close. 

You were there. You were right there. He could still feel you in his arms, his shoulder imprinted with your tears, shiest of smiles at a better future he could build with you from the burnt soil of your relationship. 

If it hadn’t been for him… 

That man was your murderer. 

He deserved the hell of a father’s making.

This avatar was a marine — and the fucking idiot was running into the oblivion blind worse than a normal civilian would in this situation, had all those years of training evaporated in one second? Jake’s steps were determined, yet lax following after the guy, nose picking up the trail of blood left behind, eyes watching the red splatters. This was all Hansel and Gretel for him, playing follow the breadcrumbs.

The sound of thumping, frantic running, bumping into obstacles, crashing into flora, all was distinguishable from the natural song of the forest Jake had gotten so familiar with in these fifteen years. No response came from the avatar, but Jake wasn’t hurrying. He would have him. Let the bastard tire himself out first — but he wouldn’t let him die. No. He could smell the fear, the blood, anger at bay, all ice, knowing the trees would carry all the sounds he needed to Jake. He could hear exactly where the avatar was. and If he was hoping he’d bleed himself out faster than Jake could reach him to save himself from what was going to happen, well… 

He’d better start praying for mercy to whatever deity held his worthless faith, because Jake had none of it. They had no mercy for you, his sinless, innocent child, all but wails and yelps and blood, and apologies for it. 

Every time Jake thought of you in that tremendous pain to the brink of delirium, he burned in his heart’s ice until he was black and purple all over. Your smile was so real, your embrace was tiny and warm in his arms and he had a chance, the only chance no parent could ever get in this life. Jake had dissolved together with that mirage.   

The part of him engulfed in flames wanted to end this quickly and painfully—to burn it all, break that man in, scream his lungs out, the other part of him, frozen fury that scalded over in the loss of you, wanted to draw it out, wanted to inflict never-ending pain, to bring the avatar back from the brink of death over and over again just to repeat it in a cycle. 

His child. His baby. 

The ties that held Jake together were getting pulled tight, the pressure building like deep water currents, thinner threads snapping and crackling, body being pulled to all five directions from all five limbs. Awareness went out and barged its way back in hot flashes, he couldn’t comprehend the passing of time and how long he let your murderer catch the delusion of shaking Jake off his tail — but, his instincts knew to reveal himself before the avatar could be claimed by blood loss. 

Dangling hope right in front of his face just to snatch it away wasn’t enough. It could never be enough compared to you who had dragged your own corpse back home, muted to your own pain cocooned between those who should have meant nothing but home and safety to you. Torture. You had lived torture in your last hours with help just one step, one word away. 

Nothing would ever be enough.  

Jake emerged from the thick flora like the grim reaper himself who would always be waiting right at the spot of the reaping wherever the soul ran away to, detached and unimpressed, blank face not reflecting the scorched soul inside. The almost passed out avatar jolted awake when he smelled the smoke from Jake’s shadow falling on him, and could only press his back further to the body of the cluster of big rocks he had taken shelter against as if somehow becoming one with it could shield him away from Jake’s wrath.  

The man’s breathing was getting louder and shakier the more Jake stood there motionless. “C’mon then,” he said between clenched teeth, spasming hand dropping from his mutilated shoulder, squaring up the last drops of his courage. “Get on with it.”

Jake’s whitened fingers were making noise against the handle of his tomahawk, but his voice was hauntingly hollow, unfeeling now that he had the man right in his palm. “Thought I should let you live what you did to my daughter first.”

The avatar began to scream. “Fuck you, man, we didn’t do none of this shit to that kid—”

Jake’s tone didn’t change, but it cut worse than a knife. “You killed my kid.”

His eyes widened, breath hitching, the reality of what was coming to him finally sinking in and Jake witnessed every panicked second of it. “Fuck…” His gaze wildly alternated between Jake and the tomahawk, raising his better, trembling hand up for feeble defense. “Look, look, listen, we didn’t kill her, alright? We patched her up, okay, she was going to be a prisoner, what happened happened because you engaged in battle, we wouldn’t do that to a—AGH!”

He was interrupted by Jake sharply shoving the head of the tomahawk into his injury, just putting it in there, not moving it further down. “Do you have children, marine?”

The man palmed at the weapon, fingernails digging into the wood, but no matter how much he pushed, it didn’t budge one bit. “Stop, stop! Fuck—”

Jake repeated again, firmer. “I asked you a question, do you have children?”

“No!— No, god, argh!” 

He spaced out for a while, watching him squirm and trash to get away with defeated, half-assed attempts, also unable to because of how much of an immovable object Jake was making the weapon buried in the open wound be. It would hit the bone if he used more strength. 

With a fixed, stony stare, Jake removed the tomahawk, waiting for the man’s deplorable whimpers to recede before breaking him the news like reading it off a doctor’s report. “You won’t get to have any.”

He didn’t look like he cared about something like that, but the man knew his fate insinuated by the words. Nevertheless,it didn’t mean he could be free from the survivor’s instinct’s mood swings his body was putting him through. Denial to bargaining within minutes. “Just kill me already, you deserter piece of—”

“Oh, no, no no,” Jake reassured, the only flicker of emotion he had shown since he’d cornered the avatar. “You won’t get to die for a long time, either.” 

The avatar grunted, head falling down before he started to shake it. “Please just let it end—man, just let it end, I’m sorry, okay, please!” A whole body-trembling begging shifted to anger the more Jake remained non-responsive. Watching. Just watching. The hole in his chest getting wider the more he fed this man’s suffering to it — it wasn’t enough. “Just fucking do it! Pussy ass bitch! Come on you blue motherfucker, kill me! Kill m—”

“Are you the one who shot my daughter?” 

“What?”

“Are you. The one. Who shot my daughter?”

The avatar’s face twisted. “It wasn’t me—it wasn’t—asshole, you already killed the guy, I didn’t fucking do anything!—”

“You... didn’t do anything?”

A beat. The forest fell silent in Jake’s ears. Just like how the noises you made had abruptly died down as he was putting pressure on your wound.

And like that, the thick haze that had Jake desensitized blew over, unadulterated anger rushed to his body, acidic and nauseating, soul stitching back to his limbs by a million needles and he began to shake, face contorting, teeth showing itself, the hiss that lacerated his throat was the most terrifying one of his life yet, it didn’t sound like it belonged to a sentient being, twisted by a grieving, demented animalistic horror. The avatar’s breath hitched, whatever protest and voice he had escaping deep inside his body, ears pinned back to his head. 

“Of course,” Jake glowered, swallowing the scorching stones blocking his throat. He closed his burning eyes, and was greeted by the image of you, opening them back again, and shaking the ax as if it was an accusing finger. 

And without a word of warning, his hand shot down and grabbed the avatar from the neck of his tactical vest, hurling him over the chest-level array of big rocks forming a pointy bed above, ignoring the cries of pain as the abused, torn open flesh of the wound dragged through the sharp teeth of the gravel, dousing them in blood. “Please, please, stop!—I’m sorry, I was wrong, that wasn’t right, shit, shit!”

Jake snatched the man’s dominant arm that was coincidentally the same one dangling by fractured bone and tendons from the shoulder. His soul had known what he wanted right from the start before his brain had processed it. “This hand,” he spat, holding it from the wrist, gnashing his teeth. “that pulled the trigger at me…” 

Murdered his daughter for a second time. 

All a soldier’s worth for. One hand to hold the stock tight against the body and one to fire. All that to take a single life.

Leaning the hand down against the rock in a sudden move, Jake slammed on the blunt, pointy end of the tomahawk on it like he was hammering a nail, the sickening crack of the bones breaking got followed by the avatar’s fractured scream. 

Jake saw you hunched, cheekily laughing in the blue and purple of the creek, freckles glowing because of the eclipse, silhouette illuminated by the floating bioluminescent bugs.  

Spinning the tomahawk in his clammy hand in a full 360 turn, he smashed it down once more, stronger. The metal broke skin and sank into spongy muscle. His ears were buzzing, ringing from how the shrill yells. 

Jake was hugging you after what seemed to be years, and your little arms were clinging to him for life — you were sand slipping from his fingers. 

Jake hammered again. 

You were telling him how mean he was to you, your voice suppressing the avatar’s. 

He brought it down one more time and felt the tomahawk recoil from hitting rock. 

You were bashful as you repeated how Jake would always love you. 

Guttural breaths getting louder with effort each hit, he kept slamming it down until everything was his beautiful little sweet girl. 

Again. 

Again. 

Again. 

Again and again and again and again and again until there was no resistance from the limb anymore and the man had gone silent and it was all mashed meat he was pounding— 

And then he almost plunged it to your bleeding, battered corpse, your stomach covered in reddish brown from the dried brown, body ashen blue, and Jake cried out in terror, jumping back and losing strength in his legs as the tomahawk flew from his hand and he fell over. 

His lungs constricted, refusing to take any breaths in and his heart ricocheted around in his ribcage, he was gaping at the wall of rock now washed red as if it was some white rose painted red in Alice in Wonderland. 

Jake sat there for the longest time, dissociated.

In those moments, he wasn’t Toruk Makto, he wasn’t Olo’eyktan, he wasn’t the pillar of a family of seven. He was simply Jake Sully. 

However, he wasn’t allowed to be stripped down to the bone until all that’s left was a mourning father. That was Jake’s reality. 

He had to cast the crippled man aside, the tragedy of his child away, and bring the leader of the People out right as your ghost rippled in his vision, watching spitefully within the forest — because all you wanted was for him to be your father, and he couldn’t even fucking do that after your death. 

This avatar was a valuable asset, a hostage to question. For the sake of his people. 

He wasn’t allowed revenge. 

A single drop of tear rolled down expressionless face. When he looked down, Jake’s hands were still stained with your blood. 

The only instance a child should be covered in blood is when they come out of their mother’s womb, little lungs being burned with existence for the first time, crying from the pain of being separated from Eywa’s arms, birth mother a complete stranger to them. 

The gore of you barely clinging to life, unmoving, drenched in your own blood, wiped and wiped to the point Neytiri had to change buckets of water until it turned light pink was overlapping with the joyful image of your newborn self she had lovingly and gently cleaned of the remains of labor with wetted mothsilk, skin too sensitive for water for the moment, the blue coming alive as the blood and other clotted bodily fluids were cleansed. 

It wasn’t the broken, ice-cold, lithe body of a young girl Neytiri had cleaned in the torment of her excoriated, unraveling mind, it was her baby’s. Her baby, her poor baby with a gaping hole in the middle of your body, memories marauding Neytiri’s lucidity. 

She lived the moment of your first cleansing over and over again. 

You were a particularly indomitable cryer, Neytiri had known you would be infamous for your battle cries right as she was brought back from the blackout of post-birth by your overly-healthy wailing — or perhaps you would best Ninat as a singer when you’d unapologetically blossom, but one thing was ascertained: her first daughter was a fierce, fiery blue ball of ardor compared to Neteyam, who was almost shy and reluctant in disturbing people around him in his weeping that a collective worry for his health had plagued the whole clan. 

As you squirmed, smeared in chunks of her flesh and blood, as if you wanted to jump off from her arms and start walking already, Neytiri had smiled up at her Jake, your father, unable to take his eyes off you, stuck between awe and laughs that came and went. “She has your heart,” she’d told him, spent and hurting, but wonderfully alive. “Strong.”

He’d traced his thumb through her drenched hairline. “Lungs, you mean?” His scent, wind and hearthfire, had enveloped Neytiri when Jake had leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I think they’re yours.” The teasing about how you had made Neytiri scream in labor wouldn’t have gone unpunished if she wasn’t on the edge of sleep held up only by your crying, so, he’d gotten a light hit on the side of his face instead. But Jake knew how to apologize, he’d always been spectacular at it. “I’d say she takes after me in appearance, look at her little ugly face.”

To Neytiri, you were beautiful, face dark purple from how strong you were screaming, and a mini-village elder with the wrinkles, swinging those little fists — things that made you lovely in her eyes. Her first daughter. 

She had learned motherhood from Neteyam, but she would learn to understand her mother and her choices through you, someone she thought couldn’t be more different from her — Neytiri, all Mo’at could have been, and Mo’at, all Neytiri might have become, once. She prayed you would love her as much as she’d begun to love you the second you were in her arms. 

To think the enormity of her love hadn’t reached you — it was one of the greatest failures of Neytiri’s life. If it had, you’d be wounded, but perfectly conscious and well in her mother’s tent. If it had, you would have been beyond comfortable telling those demons had hurt you. 

In that all-consuming devastation, the woven towel she was using to wipe the thin sheet of sweat that formed on your body slipped from her uncoordinated hands and fell on your chest, and Neytiri had to hold back the breath that spiked to become a hiccup by covering her mouth, and immediately, her curled hand was engulfed in a smaller, five-fingered one. She came eye-to-eye with Kiri after raising her head, putting her other hand on hers at the girl’s more disheveled and messy self, heart dropping to her stomach at the fatigue varnishing an extra layer of moisture in her daughter’s drooping eyes. 

“Oh Kiri,” Neytiri mumbled, caressing her cheek and brushing the tangled hair away from her face. 

“Why don’t you go get some rest, mom, hm?” 

“Even if I somehow agreed to that, I could never agree to leaving my daughter alone in this.”

“I’m fine.” Stopping to take a breath, she sighed, collecting the towel and starting to fold it. “Well, not really fine, but don't worry about me. We’re all miserable here. And that’s natural.” Fiddling with the corners of the cloth, she leaned in a bit and lowered her voice, light reflecting from the yellow of her irises making it look like they shone from within. “I… I know she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. Eywa has bestowed us a gift she has never given to anyone before and it’s for a reason. I feel that everything will be set right.” She shook her head up and down, determined. “Dad will do it. I know he will.”

Neytiri trusted Kiri with her intuition and understanding when it came to the inscrutable intentions of Eywa, she was closer to the Great Mother than any Tsahik was — so close that she would drift away too much from her family. And deep down, Neytiri was heartsick by this invisible line that separated her from her daughter, any parent in her place would be unsettled like this.

She was also hog-tied to close the distance growing between them because of the human boy Spider and how she would find camaraderie in him in their ‘orphan’ status as she called it. Kiri was already faraway in her obscure existence and unwittingly separated herself as if she didn’t see herself as a real part of the family some days, and Neytiri hated that the ‘kinship’ she’d formed with Spider was planting these ideas into her head when she was her and Jake’s daughter, no more, no less. To overwrite those feelings, she tried so hard to reach Kiri, but was unsettled by the feeling of being hated sometimes, again, more or less for her stance in placing Spider at the outskirts of their family. 

But oftentimes Kiri would express her affection through small, otherwise unnoticeable actions, just like this one, a caring touch and reassurance that could melt an ice cube — and Neytiri basked in the babiest of steps between them. And maybe this was how Jake had it with you, too, she had never thought about it like this before. 

Taking in Neytiri’s solemn silence, Kiri grumbled, suddenly agitated about something. “I just… I just wish I had isirka resin and xhikul seeds for this paste and cover her wound with it. Grandmother’s extract isn’t enough to stimulate the bone marrow and ugh—” The girl groaned with the obvious guilt at groaning in the first place, as well. “I’m sorry, mom, I don’t know what—”

“It’s alright, Kiri,” Neytiri said, weariness blending with tenderness, knowing you’d agree too. You would have probably told her to not waste her energy and wait around when there wasn’t anything left to do anyway. “Maybe it’s you who needs some rest. You’ve worked hard. Harder than any of us. You do need rest, too.”

Kiri was quick to refuse. “I’m trying something new, I can’t go anywhere.”

“I’m sure one of your brothers—”

Her earpiece buzzed alive. “Neytiri, do you read me?”

The unexpected timing of it caught her off guard, her hand flying up to the device, drums of alarm going off in her head by the croaky, despondent note to his voice. The impact of their previous argument evaporated from existence just by hearing his distress. “Jake?” She focused on you, not observing any difference, and frowned in worry, her pulse picking up pace as Kiri also locked her attention to her the moment she heard her father was on the line. “What happened?”

“I have here one of Quaritch’s dreamwalkers—whatever they are.” Neytiri’s mouth opened and closed at the reveal, forehead creasing. “Alive. Somehow survived to get to the Tree of Souls.”

Her hand instinctively descended to touch your cool and clammy arm closest to her. “Tree of Souls…? But you were—”

“Yeah. Yeah, he… I couldn’t. I couldn’t…” 

She stared at your face, all thoughts draining from her mind. “What are you saying, Jake?”

Silence.

“Jake,” Neytiri implored, her voice snuffed out towards the end. She tried again. “Jake, I don’t understand. What does this mean..?”

“Son of a bitch pulled me out before I could… before I could finish talking to her.” Kiri reached for her when she let out an incoherent, disbelieving voice, getting more panicked as Neytiri clawed at her tightening chest with his next words. “I failed, Neytiri. I couldn’t… She…” 

Neytiri was physically helpless to respond, and Kiri couldn’t hold back from inquiring seeing the state she was in. “Mom? Mom! What’s wrong?”

“This man, if it wasn’t for this man, I had it.” Jake kept talking at an increasing speed the longer Neytiri didn’t say anything. “I had her right in my arms, making future plans, smiling, everything was perfect, and then he—” His breath quivered. “He fucking—” And he stopped the sentence abruptly to get some semblance of control back because Eywa knew Neytiri was losing it ever so slowly. “I need you here with me right now, please. Please, I…” 

Neytiri refused to acknowledge what Jake couldn’t say out loud. You were still breathing, she felt your chest rise and fall even if the pattern was weak. You had life left in you. Jake saying he failed made no sense to her, she didn’t believe it. 

“Neytiri, I need to question this… this filth, need to learn all I can about what’s going on, but I can’t do it on my own. I’ll kill him. In a heartbeat. I want to squeeze the life out of him with my hands right this moment and I— I can’t… We have to know how they could have gotten this far, what they’re planning—and now right to the Tree of Souls too, and…” The rambling that got chaotic and disconnected faded off eventually, as if he’d lost his voice. “Shit.”

And throughout all that, Neytiri had gone from confused, in denial, at the threshold of grief but not nearly in there anchored by your pulse, and lusting for blood within minutes. Kiri was taken aback by the anger radiating from her. “Bring him here!”

“I can’t. He could have a tracker on him—they could have put it in his body. I can’t risk that.”

Neytiri stood up with only one thing in her mind, and it didn’t match Jake’s. “Where are you?”

“You gotta let me pass, buddy, come on! You wanna take my head off or something? Why are you being like this!” 

Hands up and quick on his feet, Lo’ak was trying to negotiate. 

With an ikran of all things. Not even his.

Yours. 

Mom storming out like a wronged, vengeful spirit had been the perfect chance for him to do a quick supply run sneak off, but your overgrown big bird with the exact same attitude as you was getting in his way and blocking Lo’ak off by snapping its jaw at his head and opening its sunset fire tinged wings every time he attempted to cross over to his own ikran. They were basically at a standstill and he had no idea why. 

Lo’ak just wanted to help. Help you. 

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Shit. 

Neteyam. Making his way to him with such speed that got his braids swinging and of course he’d sniffed Lo’ak out like a nantang. Followed the odd silence, probably. Eywa, he should have thought this out better. 

“Skxawng, do you not remember what dad said?”

“I do,” Lo’ak hummed and hawed, and that was the problem. He’d never felt this guilty about disobeying dad’s orders before, it was making him squirm. “But look, Kiri said she needed isirka resin and xhikul seeds or whatever to treat her, I’m going—”

Neteyam’s jaw had flexed when he said whatever, but there was no visible agitation after he gave a sharp breath through his nose.  “So let’s call mother or—”

“They’re busy with some sky person dad caught—”

“I know. The same ones who did this to our sister. I know, Lo’ak.” Neteyam aggressively gestured to the exit of the cave system, shaking his arm while speaking. “What do you think will happen if you go off on your own and land yourself in bigger trouble than she did? Huh?”

Lo’ak threw resentful looks at your ikran. “I can’t stay put like this. I have to do something.”

“This again? There is nothing we can do.” He hadn’t said that in his normal drilling of dad’s orders — Neteyam had the same pain of acceptance that were Lo’ak’s bruises etched onto his face.

And that made Lo’ak want to throw up all over the place. He’d experienced countless sicknesses his siblings had fallen to over the years, none of those were as fatal as this and he didn’t know what the fuck to do. What was he supposed to do when his sister was dying? What did one do when a family member was in this situation anyway? Nothing seemed right to him. 

And something was finally, finally within his power — and Lo’ak would of course rise up to the challenge without hesitation. He wasn’t just going to sit down and let that possibility of your salvation slip by. “But there is. Kiri said—”

“Lo’ak if you leave right now and somehow get caught dad will never trust you again. He was the most open he’s ever been, don’t betray him like that.” 

He was getting annoyed that Neteyam was ignoring the whole point, though it wasn’t as if Lo’ak didn’t know. He was fully aware, and that’s why this was supposed to be a secret. Dad couldn’t be hurt by what he didn’t know now, could he? Not only were you getting Kiri’s remedy, which he was sure as his name was Lo’ak that would end up most effective, but he also wasn’t breaking his promise to dad when the tiniest thread of trust in his son was knotted by the man just recently.  

Neteyam grabbed him by the top of his head in a brotherly manner but his hold was of steel, the boy tried to grumpily push him off but he didn’t budge, staring right into his soul. “Use what’s in this for once and just tell dad or mother, they’re down in the forest already anyway.” When he let go, Lo’ak stumbled back, rubbing the sting off, and the semi-playful older brother was back. “And one of them will actually know what to look for.”

His immediate response was refusal. “I know what I’m looking for—”

“What does isirka look like?”

The sounds your ikran was making was eerily close to laughter and Lo’ak felt heat rush up to the tips of his ears. “It’s a tree.”

Neteyam didn’t have brow hair like Lo’ak did, but the way he raised the lines was always more expressive than how he did it. “Xhikul, then?”

“Flower, skxawng.”

“Wrong.” Lo’ak’s tail started beating the air at the condescending tone. “Kiri is talking about the fruit. Xhika is its flower.”

He rolled his eyes, turning away. “Whatever—”

“Is it whatever?” Neteyam grabbed Lo’ak by the shoulder and spun him around so rough that he got dizzy. “Are you calling my sister’s life whatever?”

Lo’ak was going to explode from how wrong this was going and how insistent Neteyam was to twist his words. “That’s not what I meant bro!” 

“You are so careless.” Neteyam’s tail had shot up ramrod straight, the little bush of hair at the end of it all puffed up, ears perking in all directions. He wasn’t necessarily yelling but was tense all over, something he did whenever they were playing back in the day and he was about to pounce after staying still enough to implant a false seed of safety. “You don’t even think about what can happen if you were to bring a completely different ingredient! You don’t think!”

“Sorry that I’m trying to help! What are you doing?”

“Keeping us safe. Keeping you safe.” He pressed his lips together on a thin line, but couldn’t hold back whatever was bubbling inside. “I’m not losing another sibling, Lo’ak!”

Only a small gasp escaped Lo’ak when he opened his mouth in retaliation. He couldn’t have found his voice even if he found something to say to that rawness in return, anyway. 

The gut-churning guilt doubled. 

“Hey… I—”

“Go,” Neteyam whispered, tilting his head together with the lone word. “Since you’re dying to help, help Kiri. She’s exhausted. I don’t think grandmother will refuse.”

“What about you?” And there he goes again. Wrong words. Neteyam was looking more closed-off than before. “I’m not accusing or anything—”

“I can’t go in there.”

“What?”

“I can’t,” Neteyam took a deep breath and loudly let it go, tail deflating, the arch of it depressing as hell for some reason. “I can’t look at her.”

Neteyam just gave a forlorn smile in return to Lo’ak’s heavily concerned looks demanding he continue but not knowing how to word it, his back looked weirdly lonely as he was tending to your significantly calmer ikran to join back the horde. 

Buried in negative thoughts all the way back and ignoring the pitiful looks from the rest of the clan, he met Kiri outside of the healing tent talking to Spider, and he could see Tuk’s back covering the view to you in his peripheral.

They were whispering about something and it was obvious even from a distance where they were nothing but stick figures. At least try to look less suspicious, Lo’ak thought. 

The only part he caught from the conversation was Spider saying, “Just describe them to me,” — Kiri was really leaning in towards him. 

“What’s going on?” 

The two looked like they were caught in the middle of scheming, and it clicked almost immediately. 

If Lo’ak had thought of going off on his own, so had they. 

“You aren’t going anywhere, bro,” he said, draping his arm across the human boy’s shoulders. “Neteyam’s literally patrolling.”

“You have to be kidding me,” Spider groaned, visibly disappointed. It warmed Lo’ak’s heart to see he was totally down for sneaking off the camp for you. “You said your dad told him to rest.”

“Yeah, he did. Except Neteyam never rests. He has a dancing glow worm up his ass.”

The conversation couldn’t continue because Kiri did a double take at something. 

“Tuk!” Kiri took a few steps aside, squinting as if she didn’t think she was seeing it right. Then her expression burst into panic, her hands flying forward as she ran to the tent, Spider and Lo’ak could only stare, baffled. “Tuk, oh Eywa, what are you doing!—” 

“I’m giving her water, she’s thirsty.”

“What?”

He actually rushed to the entrance of the tent, nearly falling headfirst in, having stumbled on some rock. Your mouth was actually open. And Tuk was really trying to get you to drink from the bowl she was holding against your mouth.

You choked at one point, still unconscious, but it was a sign of life. Lo’ak didn’t know if the shocked screech came from him or Kiri.  

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul

@eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily@n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

@thotd-f1 @httpjiikook @nipoxe @fussel9913 @gloryekaterina @nxptury @thesheelfsworld @heyyitsmaiaa @anyasullyyy @rey26 @in-luvais @em-100 @n7cje @kpopslur @holysaladapricothero @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @maviee @grxcisxhy-wp @me-marilm @n39ro-chann

[hinamie]

I don't want to regret the way I lived

[mysterycitrus]

im not complaining cause this is like my dream team for a dickie grayson book but i do think there’s some comedy to dick getting like four seperate runs as robin in the past five years vs actual current robin tim drake getting a single shitty solo and then coasting on nothing but vibes

[temeyes]

met my godson for the first time yesterday, and he shares a name with a certain character,,,,

[joenateuser]

Jack Champion

[duncanor]

Found this old screenshot and immediately died lmaoooo

[alsoricoffee]

The Haikyuu movie was great guys

[otaku553]

I got a haircut today and I’m so giddy about it,,,, it is so difficult to explain to my mom why I feel so giddy about the undercut sideburns I got

[satans-knitwear]

Sunday sparkles! ✨

Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me

[claraoswalds]

Utopia // Wild Blue Yonder

[mickittotheman]

Pipher, M. (1995). Chapter 1: Saplings in the Storm. In Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls (pp. 19–23). Ballantine Books.

Debbie pt. 1

(click here for Mandy pt. 1)

[noxious-fennec]

A redraw of an old thing because exam season is the only time i get creative energy ig

[hinamie]

in spite of everything, I had fun <3

[xeraeus]

More in foods i would feed to Nanami Kento cause nanami kento is a foodie and i love him

[wabbitears]

slay the princess has a gucking chokehold on me I love this bird

[killsaki]

implode — there’s only so many feelings one can hold in, especially with bakugou blood in their veins.

bakugou katsuki x little sister!reader

6.7k | minors dni | read on ao3

cw / tw : incest, drugging, hinted noncon gangbang, scummy!denki+sero+kiri, aphrodisiac, weed, alcohol, fingering, creampie, reader calls bkg ‘bubba’.

is it hard being the sibling of a prohero?

of course! they disappear for days to weeks at a time—leaving for training, meetings, press events, and then for missions. you go from having them all to yourself, to sharing them with the world. from being their number one fan, to merely feeling like one amongst a million. and there’s so many things to worry about, from them going to work and never coming home, to a villain coming after you out of spite of being captured by said sibling.

those all sound logical answers to the question, normal ones. hence why you’ve practiced saying them so many times in case anyone ever asks.

but, truly, you knew most of those were things you’d never have to worry about. not when you’re the younger sister of none other than bakugou katsuki.

your brother being, well.. himself, was enough to keep any thoughts of danger from your mind. he was too fast, too strong, too skilled, too protective for anything to ever happen to either of you. but this peace of mind only gives room for you to dwell on other things.

like the social media ‘famous’ girls who just don’t shut up about how hot your brother is—which shouldn’t bother you so much, not in the stomach churning, phone gripping way that it does. and you could blame your intense reactions on the fact that you have to see it literally every time you try to scroll down your timeline, or that it’s just weird that your brother is suddenly getting so much attention.. but that's less believable than the first excuse to you.

and then there’s the out of context candids posted in tabloids of him saving civilians, who understandably look at him so longingly, and then there’s a picture painted of him as some kind of bachelor. to make matters worse, said online articles become almost impossible to escape no matter how much you try—partially thanks to your old school ‘friends’ sending them to you asking for all the details to share with their group chats, as if you’d tell them.

to top everything off, your brother, as doting as he is, never has time for you anymore. despite how you live with him, have your own room and bath in his unnecessarily large condo, and even have a card to his bank account for anything you could possibly need—still, you rarely see him. he’s so consumed in his work, from partols to missions, and when he’s not on the clock he’s forced to do press and modeling for whatever goodies they want to slap his picture onto.

and you could never hold that against him, not when he’s been working towards this his whole life. but still, having just a moment with him could cure all the thoughts that hang heavy in your mind daily. just a second to be reminded that your brother is yours, all alone. that you’re the only little sister he’ll ever have, the only girl he’ll ever need.

luckily for you, a day comes that your brother gets a day's break—more like he’s forced into a vacation as he never takes any days off. and he’s able to lounge about, meaning that he’s sitting on the couch in sweats and bouncing his leg waiting for someone to call his phone saying he can finally come to work as if being away from it was excruciating. you could giggle at the thought, what person besides katsuki would rather be out fighting petty criminals than relaxing on their own couch.

“did you hear me?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looks over at you.

you shake your head, too caught up in your thoughts to realize he was even speaking to you.

“the guys want me to go over for a bit. i won’t be gone long.” he repeats before turning back to his phone screen as he finishes typing.

your heart jumps into your throat. tonight was exactly what you’d been longing for, time with just the two of you, so you could reassure yourself the importance of the role you have in his life. so that you could have katsuki all to yourself. so that you could pretend for just a little while, that he’s just your brother again, not the hero you have to share with the world.

“i wanna go too.” you spit without thought.

he shoots you another look, lifting a brow as he blinks at you. “i want to come hang out too.” you say again as you chew at your lip, unable to back out of the situation your loud mouth has already gotten you into.

“no.” he replies back coldly, pushing himself from the couch before stretching his arms up, revealing the bottom of his toned stomach as he does so. “there’s going to be a lot of people, and drinking.” he looks at you out of the corner of his eyes before mumbling on. “and denki’s gonna be there.”

you snap your gaze up to him in confusion about the mention of a certain friend of his. but, he doesn’t let you get any questions out, heading off towards his room to get ready to leave. you pad right behind him, arms crossed while you walk, letting out huffs every few minutes just to remind him how you’re not going to give up. you sit on his bed as he collects an outfit to wear and little things he needs for a shower, noticing how he avoids making any glances in your direction.

it’s not until he’s already fully showered and starting to dress himself that he cracks, groaning as he looks at you.

“go fuckin’ get dressed.” he orders with out any actual malice in his tone. “once i get in the car, i’m leaving.”

your brother is many things, but a liar is not one.

so, you race to your room, tearing into your dresser to slip into that one outfit you’d been holding onto, hoping to wear the next time you’d gotten the chance to go on an outing with katsuki. though, you’d pictured something with more room for alone time, you suppose it would work at a party with his old friends too.

you’d just finished touching up what you need in the mirror as you hear his car engine start up, giving you only seconds to force yourself into your shoes and jog out to his car.

“you stay by my side until we leave.” he looks over at you, while you reach over your shoulder for the seatbelt, his crimson eyes squinted warningly. “i mean it.”

he didn’t mean it.

it’s not even half an hour after you arrive, barely finished shoving your way through the sweaty bodies crowded in someone’s living space, hardly enough time enough to adjust your ears to the shitty music and screams of laughter—something catches your brother's eye, to which he leaves you in the hands of his old classmate. ‘be back in a minute’, he says, pushing you into the red head’s side. but it’s not a minute, it’s been thirty and you haven’t managed to spot the blonde mess of a head, not even from your seat on the kitchen’s counter over the crowd merely feet away.

“what’s wrong?” kirishima raises his eyebrows slightly at you from behind his solo cup.

“just expected to be with kats’,” you huff, fingers twiddling with the end of your skirt. “kinda the only reason i came.”

he nods, glancing down into his drink before peering over his shoulder.

“want a sip?”

you know that you shouldn’t, how mad your brother will get at the both of you if he shows up to find you wasted and slung over his best friend.

“it’ll help you relax, at least until he gets back. i won’t let you drink too much, i promise.”

you can’t resist the small smile he gives. he’s so warm, safe. being with him is almost the same as being with katsuki, almost.

one sip turns into two cups, and suddenly it’s not just you and eijiro anymore. sero and denki showed up somewhere along the way. but, it’s fine, you think. they’re heroes alongside your brother, and they’ve known him long enough to know any better. only, in your slurred thoughts, that voice in the back of your mind starts to hope otherwise.

they’re all undoubtedly handsome, the three of them much taller than you despite the height difference amongst themselves, and all so strong. there’s sero with his shaggy black hair, signature grin and pretty ring clad fingers that grip the cup he’d been babysitting since he’d walked over. denki and his pretty pink lips he never stops running his tongue over, his slightly whiney voice and golden eyes that just get so much deeper when he looks at you. and then of course, kirishima, who’s just so unreasonably big, length and width—wait, that's… not the right words. but now you wonder—

“what are you smiling about?” the blonde asks from where he’s propped on the kitchen’s island across from you.

you shake your head, biting your lips when you realize how caught up in your thoughts you let yourself get with them still right in front of you.

“i was just thinking.” you let out, trying to look anywhere but at kirishima.

“thinking about?” the voice pipes in from beside you, resting his head on your arm as he leans back to look up at you. your heart races a bit when you can physically feel how close he’s gotten to you without you realizing.

“yeah, you’ve been so quiet. not really living up to the bakugou name.” sero shakes his head with fake disapproval.

“my brother’s not that loud.” you giggle, knowing it's a lie before it even hits your tongue. “i was just thinking about how i never see you guys, you’re so different than you were when i met you back at the graduation.” you sigh. “he never lets me go out with him when you guys invite him.”

you miss the look that hanta and kaminari share, how the corners of the blonde's mouth perk up for a split second before he paints on a confused expression.

“when do we invite him out?” he asks, tilting his head slightly when you look up at him.

you nearly mimic the movement when you register his words.

“always?..” you ask, but glancing at the dark haired man and the red head who share the same confused expression, you don't need an answer. “but he… i’m so confused.”

you can only blink, staring at the black side of the fridge, thinking back on the rare nights that he gets off with enough time to do anything besides shower and sleep. how he’d knock on your door, letting you know he was running over to one of ‘the guys’ house before it got too late. he was never gone too terribly long, but that’s just how your brother is. you always thought he literally only went to say hi and came home—wanting to get enough sleep for another full day of hero work. that’s the only thing that made any sense.

“hey, don’t worry about it.” kirishima’s large hand has somehow found its way to rub soothingly at your side, arm now wrapped behind your back.

“i’m sure he could’ve meant midoriya or something.” denki still wears a straight face, speaking with faulty concern.

sero stays quiet while he pulls out his phone, scrolling through something and finally starting to sip out of his cup.

“i should go try to find him.” you go to slide off the counter when denki speaks up again.

“i think you should stay with us.”

the words send a gut wrenching feeling to your core, your body screams to get away, but you fight it.

“why?” you dumbly ask, the smallest bit of curiosity keeping you.

“your brother’s busy.” he shrugs, bumping sero’s shoulder with his own.

the long fingers you were admiring minutes ago faint against yours as he hands you his phone, the screen showing a man you recognize unmistakingly as your brother, dressed in the outfit he’d worn tonight. his arm snug around some girl's lower back, ducked down with his mouth to her ear, the camera’s quality is shitty but even so, you can still see the way their bodies are pressed together. you feel your heart sink, though, you’re not entirely sure why.

you let yourself get slotted back into kirishima’s side, finding a sense of comfort in the weight of his arm around your shoulder as they walk you to the glass doors at the back of the house.

“don’t looked so bummed little baku’!” denki shoots you a grin. “we’ll keep you entertained for the night.”

the air is warm outside, not helping to cool your cheeks that are still hot from the alcohol. the four of you end up sitting on some cushioned benches near the middle of the yard, surrounded by small bushes. it’s much nicer than being inside, but you’re not entirely sure why they brought you out here. not until sero pulls out something rolled and a lighter. you watch as he puts it between his lips, lighting the end and inhaling til the end burns red without the flame. you forget to look away whenever he exhales, giving him the chance to catch you watching him.

“you want to hit it?” his voice suddenly sounds like silk, acting like ties as it’s doing everything to pull you in despite the way your nerves are still screaming at you.

“i’ve never smoked before.” you laugh awkwardly. “my brother would kill me.”

he flashes that big toothy grin, shaking his head for the who-knows-what time that night and you know you’re in for it whenever you see your brother again. but just for this second, you think it’ll be okay.. if he’s busy with some girl when he told you he’d be by your side for the night, then you can have fun with his cute friends.

“he doesn’t have to know.” sero pulls you back to the moment in front of you. “come here, i’ll teach you.”

you’re moving without thinking, giggling again at the way he shoo’s denki from beside him so that you can sit. he teaches you how to breathe it in easily, but how not to take too much. and you do exactly as he says, letting him put it on your lips, you pull in a slow but shallow drag. holding it until he tells you to let it out.

“good girl.” hanta smirks, the warmth of his hand holding your jaw as he moves the damp paper back to your mouth. “now do it again, just like that.”

you listen, thinking nothing of it. thinking nothing at all, actually. you can’t. the flood of warmth lingering in your veins from those drinks that you’re just realising were much stronger than you thought and the clouds now fogging your consciousness, too much to form any kind of thought.

“here, try this.” you hear from the side- no, in front of you. denki’s leaned over with a diamond shaped candy on his palm.

you hesitate, but not able to talk, body already working overtime to remember how to breathe properly.

“it’ll just make you feel good, i just took one too.” he reassures, gesturing again for you to grab it. if you could feel your body right now, you’d feel every single inch of it aching to run. you’d feel that same feeling in your stomach as it started to churn. maybe you would’ve listened this time. but instead all you can feel is the race in your chest as you eye the light blue against his pale skin.

“c’mon.” kirishima’s showing off his sharp teeth with how wide he’s grinning, trying his hardest to be just as reassuring as he was to get you to drink with him a while ago. “we’re your brother's best friends, you know we wouldn’t let anything happen to you.. even if he is busy.

you take another deep breath, nodding. right. katsuki wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

“let me.” denki’s suddenly standing over you, candy- pill pinched between his fingers, a grin just as big plastered on his face. “open up.”

you miss the devilish intent hiding behind those smiling faces. you miss the almost telepathic conversation they all have in the glances they share as you flutter your pretty eyes closed, letting your tongue fall out for denki to drop the pill on. it hits your taste, dissolving almost immediately. you swallow the bitter grainy bits, grimacing as you only have your spit to get it down with.

“give it just a few minutes.” the blonde speaks again, much more eagerly this time. which should alert you, all of this should.

you could blame it on the alcohol you have a low tolerance for, on the weed you’ve never smoked, on the fact you trust anyone who attaches their name to your brothers. but really, it’s because you’re dumb. you don’t think anything bad can ever happen to you. not like this. not when your brother is so close.

“it’s kinda warm out here.” you mumble, shifting uncomfortably on the padding. you feel the heat across your cheeks and down your neck, skipping to your stomach that warms slowly, trickling down between your legs and across your thighs. “think i want some water.”

you slowly push yourself to stand, body feeling heavy as you move. you don’t catch how they all follow right behind you, until sero—no, denki’s arm slinks its way around your waist as you walk. he pulls you away from the path back to the glass door and towards the gate in the big wooden fence.

“it’s too hot in there.” he tugs you again when you weakly attempt to pull away. “kirishima’s place isn’t too far from here. we can just hang out there while you cool off.”

you shake your head, mind racing to how badly you just want something to drink, and to be with katsuki. mentally cursing out the stupid girl in that picture for taking your brother away from you, for stealing his attention when you’re the one who needs it. and you curse yourself, for not listening to his warning when he said denki would be here.

“denki.” you drag your feet, doing anything to attempt a fight against the push of his much stronger hands. “what was that? the…” it’s hard to think, even harder to push those thoughts into words and say them aloud “the pill. what’d you give me?”

“i told you,” he smirks, glancing behind you and nodding one of the men over. “it’s just to make everything feel better.” stepping aside, kirishima’s heavy arm replaces denki’s, locking you under it and forcing you forward. your heart races at all the implications that could have. you don’t even notice you’re shaking until he wraps his other arm around you, bending his head down to graze the shell of your ear, whispering into it

“it’ll make things easier,” something about his tone makes you want to vomit. “just don’t think about it, pretty.”

“don’t get too friendly, dude, i’m the one who set this up.” denki bites, pulling his keys out as the four of you near a car. “there’s no way you get first.”

sero snickers again, sighing as kiri opens his mouth to snide back about how he’s been waiting two years and that you should at least get to pick that much. you can’t really make it out anymore, all you can hear is your own heartbeat banging in your ears.

you try and struggle out of his hold, which only makes them all laugh in turn and your heart falls into your stomach. you’re with pro heroes, if anything bad is going to happen to you here, at their hands, there's no way you’re going to fight your way out of it.

sero’s fingers wrap around the handle of the car’s back door when the voice booms out your name down the small hill the house is sitting on.

you can physically feel kirishima tense up and his heart start to race, you can hear the way sero and denki stop breathing in unison. you can even picture the way they all freeze without having to look, you can imagine the absolute fear in their face as they stand there, gaping at your brother.

his red eyes dig into you before taking a second to glance at the men around you.

“why do you look so fucked up?” he barks out, brows furrowing deeper with each step he takes towards you. “where the fuck were you guys about to go?”

he’s eyeing kirishima now, tugging you by your wrist out of the red head’s hold and into his own, gripping you as if he lets go, you'll get stolen away.

“she said it was hot in there.” kirishima shrugs awkwardly, face stiff.

“and who the fuck said you could take her anywhere?” bakugou tilts his head face twisted dumbfoundedly at the boldness his old friend suddenly seems to have.

“my place is just up the street she wanted to—“

“and why the fuck do you have her around denki?” you can feel bakugou’s skin grow hotter to the touch with each word he spits. or maybe it's you that’s getting hotter. god, it’s fucking hot.

“i didn’t drive.” he shrugs again, breaking eye contact to look over at the other blonde.

“she’s not a baby bakugou, she can be around whoever she wants.” kaminiari says smugly, like the idiot he is.

“i’ll kill you.” your brother doesn’t hesitate with this threat, and it wipes the smile off denki’s, raising his hands slightly in defence.

you use the hold he has on you to wrap your arm around his, feeling a great sense of relief pressed against him.

“he didn’t touch you did he?” katsuki’s voice is still gruff when he talks down to you, but you don’t mind it.

you know that he did technically touch you, but not enough to hurt anything. and if you answer truthfully it’ll just drag this out even longer, and all you want is to be wrapped around him. so, you shake your head, and you hope he doesn’t hear the way they all sigh in relief.

your brother doesn’t say anything else, just pulls you away towards where he’d parked. the second he turns around, you peek back at the men. kirishima has his head tossed back, hand over his chest as he takes in a deep breath, sero, leaned against the car shoulders shaking with laughter while denki curses and slams the driver side door shut.

“i’m hot katsu’” you whine when he unlocks the door for you.

“how much did he let you drink?” he scoffs, leaning across you and buckling your seatbelt for you as if you’re unable.

you huff, watching his strong arms reach over your body. his warm chest coming down to press into yours, that you find is so sensitive. so much so that a small whine escapes your throat before you’re able to register it he’s already pulled back looking down at you. one hand on the top of the car as he leans over, eyebrows pinched together.

“‘m just hot, bubba.” you assure, face burning in embarrassment and whatever else was setting your body on fire.

he immediately blasts the AC as soon as the car is on, and in the second that it satiates the burning under your skin, you remember.

“who was the girl?” you question, voice somewhere between shaking and slurring. you shouldn’t be asking, there’s no reason for you to do this right now—or at all. “the one you left me to go see.”

katsuki just stares ahead for a second before his jaw tightens.

“and where did you see me with a girl?” he asks blankly, like he already knows the answer.

“sero had a picture. they said you were busy, that’s why i stayed with them.” you answer truthfully, hoping he’d driven far enough to not want to turn back.

“i didn’t know her, sero at introduced us.” he scoffs, scowl resting on his face as he keeps his eyes focused on the drive.

the heat begins to dig into you again, the cool blow the ac’s aid only a temporary fix.

“why? why didn’t you come look for me? text me?” he asks, his short fuse burning already.

“you were busy.” you reply shortly, too focused on the ache going on in your lower half.

“and? if i knew that shit face was going to try fucking with you we would’ve left as soon as we got there.” he shakes his head, voice raising only slightly.

“you were with a girl, katsu! i didn’t want to interrupt.” you throw your head back against the cool leather, smoothing your hands out over your skirt, across the tops of your thighs as if that would help.

“you’re my little sister, that’s completely different.” he scrunches his face up as he glances between you and the road, the same thing he does anytime anyone says something he thinks is the slightest bit dumb.

“is it?” you ask.

“yes.” he snaps back. 

“so if i wasn’t your little sister, you wouldn’t care?” you mumble, shifting at the warmth you feel start to spill into your panties. “or if i wouldn’t have come with you tonight, would you have left with her?”

he sighs, exasperated.

“what the fuck are you saying right now?” he keeps glancing at you, rushing a reply.

“why did you leave me to go see her?” you groan. “why didn’t you stay with me? why didn’t you wanna just be at home with me?”

he only gets your name and a curse out before you cut him off, the heat itching at you becoming too much.

“katsu’ ‘m so hot.” you mewl, raking your hands down your body, reveling in the momentary coolness under your own touch. you can feel the way he stiffens slightly next to you, but the previous tension is out the window, almost forgotten.

“i have the ac on.” he states, keeping his eyes on the road as you near the building the two of you call home.

“it’s inside katsu, ‘m hot on the inside.”

he stops the car with a jerk in the middle of the parking lot, snapping his head over towards you.

“what did they give you?” his question is sharp, voice filled with anger once again.

“denki gave me candy—no, a pill.” you toss your head side to side, thighs rubbing together mindlessly. “to make me ‘feel good’—make everything, no—something feel good that’s what they said, but i just hurt.”

you can hear death threats spill out his mouth as he watches you squirm in the seat.

“i’ll take you to the hospital.” he mutters, putting a hand on the shoulder of your seat to look behind him as starts to back out.

“no!” you whine, grabbing his hand and pulling it to your lap. “i don’t want doctors touching me.”

he keeps his eyes on you as you put his palm against your inner thigh, watching how you keen against the seat when his skin touches yours.

“want you to help me, bubba, please.” he pulls his hand from you, face contorted with.. something before he’s rubbing his palms over his face and pulling at his hair. you realize what you just asked and for the umpteenth time tonight, your heart sinks. but this time you're sure that if you stood, it’d be sitting on the seat underneath you.

“i’m—katsuki, i’m sorry.” you start to babble out apology after apology, which soon all runs together and becomes broken as you tear up, voice cracking every other word.

the blond throws his head back, hard. quickly changing gear and moving his car into a private parking spot. you’re still crying when he pulls your wrist, strength easily shifting you over the middle console of his car and into his lap.

“tell me that you need my help.” he blinks up at you, holding your waist just above his lap. 

you nod, hoping it’ll suffice, but it doesn’t.

“i need you to help me, katsu—no one else can.” he drops you onto his lap, fingertips digging into the softness of your sides. “please, make it better.” you breathe, shakily. 

he uses his hold to drag you across his lap, the friction making you drop your head onto his shoulder. pleasure shooting up your spine, small whines of his name getting lost in his neck as he keeps grinding you down onto him until your thighs start to shake, your moans turn into breathless whines and you’re crumbling against him as you make a mess all over his jeans…

the two of you sit in panting silence for a few minutes before he tells you to move, that you need a shower. and like you always do, you listen. following him inside and discarding your clothes from your still buzzing body in silence. but as soon as the showers water hits you, you’re burning again. the ache between your legs coming back stronger than before, the burn in your stomach twice as hot and the need is too much.

you don’t hesitate to make your way right back to his room, body still nude and dripping all over the floors as you do. but you don’t care—your brain and body only knows one thing right now and it’s that you need your brother.

“what are you doing?” he strains, turning his head back towards the drawer he was sorting through as soon as he takes in your naked body standing at his doorway.

“i still hurt, katsu.” you whisper, not caring if he heard you or not. just wanting him to give you more than what he gave earlier.

“i already helped.” you can hear pain in his voice and it makes you want to cry. you wish you didn’t put him in such a position, that you would’ve just been grateful and stayed home—but you need him, it’s all your mind and body can tell you, you need him.

“help again.” you practically demand, craving him too badly to be embarrassed or think much at all about what you were doing. your hands land on his shoulders and pull yourself up to kiss at his neck trying to entice him.

“i can’t.” he groans low, but doesn’t attempt to push you away, letting you drag your lips across all the skin you can reach.

you don’t say anything else, not until you manage to pull him down by his hair to look at you.

“make it better.. like you always do.”

it’s the pebble that cracks the glass, his hands grip your waist and all but throw you onto his mattress. you only have a moment to gasp before he’s hovering over you.

“say it again.” he commands, voice rough as one of his hands makes its way to the apex of your thighs. your eyes flutter at the vibration of his words against your chest, the knot in your stomach already tying itself.

“make me feel better, bubba, please.”

there was a reason behind why he’s left the condo the few times that he does get to sit in the house, a reason why he doesn’t want to be alone with you for too long. it’s not that he doesn’t have any restraint, but he’s known thatif something ever happened, where the little sister that has always been the exception his selfish attitude asked him to do anything like this—even without whatever the fuck it was that denki gave you—he’d do it.

he drags a heavy finger along your slit, up to your still swollen clit making you gasp against his lips as they ghost your own. he teases only for a second, not able to bare you being in pain when he’s there to do something about it, just like he’s always been. he uses your excessive slick to rub harsh circles over your clit, it sends your eyes rolling back, it’s so much more practiced than the pathetic frottage he pulled in the car.

“need more, katsu, please.” you push your hips into his hand with the little bit of strength you have, desperate for as much as he’ll give you.

he drops his forehead to your shoulder this time, looking down as he moves his fingertips to your entrance, pushing two in without warning. he immediately works away with them, curling into your swollen, most sensitive wall and fucking into you with a strength that could only be possessed by such a high ranking pro hero. your wetness sticks to his knuckles with every pull before it squelches obscenely loud when he pushes back in.

“kiss me, katsu.” you whine.

he brings his lips back to yours, red eyes flickering between both of your eyes for a moment, waiting for you to take it back. you don’t, instead, sliding your hands from where they sat on his shoulders up to twist into his hair.

“you can pretend ‘m someone else… just please kiss me.” his fingers pause their movement for a moment, and he pulls away. you start to whine, from the loss and out of fear you’d said something wrong again.

“why would you say that?” you trip over any word that hits your tongue. but you don’t need to speak, he does it for you. “i don’t need to do that,” his fingers pick their pace back up, drawing wonton moans from you that you wouldn’t be able to bite back if you tried. “not when i’ve always pretended everyone else was you.” he admits.

your heart leaps in your chest just as he presses his mouth into yours, the kiss is littered with teeth and spit—but neither of you can find a reason to care.

the familiar feeling starts to coil in your stomach, your hips moving on their own down on his hand to chase the feeling of ecstasy but it never comes, you cry out as the pressure fades.

“more.” you cry softly against his lips, keeping your eyes screwed shut so you don’t have to face any look that he might give you. “‘need you.”

but, he complies, tugging himself out of the sweats he’d thrown on after his shower and kicking them off to be dealt with later. he doesn’t waste any time teasing, rushing to give you what you want—what you need, to make his pretty little sister feel good the way he’s been cursing his brain for imaging for the longest time.

he lines the thick head of him up with your already stretched hole, dropping back down to your lips as he eases in. the pop of the head of him pulls a gasp from the both of you, but he doesn’t give you time to adjust to it, knowing with how you’ve been aching to be filled all night that you can handle the stretch. which is exactly what he gives you, his fingers were nothing in comparison to the girth of his cock.

it stings, making your eyes tear up, and drags whine after whine from your throat. katsuki catches them in his mouth, swallowing them and shushing you while he continues to push in until he’s at the hilt. you babble out senseless ‘thank you’s while he pulls back slightly, never separating your hips and his own by too much. his hips make a circular motion, grinding back into you slowly, pushing the trimmed light colored pubes at the base of him against your ever throbbing clit and making you squeal from the pleasure of it.

he repeats it over and over, curved length of him dragging along your g-spot until youre twitching, your mouth hangs open, sounds falling against his lips as he drinks all of them in. your hips rise every few strokes trying to meet him, to egg him on to go harder, to give you more without having to ask for it, but he just wont. keeping his slow, sensual pace, as if he was fucking you at his own leisure and not because you basically forced yourself onto him

“love you, bubba.” you whisper drunkenly, lips dragging across his soft ones as you speak.

his hips stutter at your words, strong arms move from holding himself over you to grabbing the underside of your knees and pulling them slightly, wrapping your legs around him. “ah- my katsu.”

“keep telling me.” he grunts, sliding his hand down to your waist where your thighs fold over them. “tell me i’m yours, say that you’re mine.”

he finally picks up his antagonizing pace, hips still swirling into yours, pubic hair scratching against your bud with each push. the head of him presses deep against that spongey spot with each sway, heavy balls sticking to your leaked juices as you chant out the i love you’s like a mantra, like it’s the only meaningful thing that you’ve ever said. it’s not long before your legs start to shake, his cock hitting all of the right nerves in your throbbing cunt.

“don’t stop.” he repeats when your mouth drops wide open, orgasm creeping up on you.

“mine! you’re mine!” you cry as your vision turns white and your walls spasm around him. “‘m yours, all yours, bubba.” you whimper as the ache in your cunt becomes the pain of overstimulation.

your words and the steady throb of your clamping cunt ultimately bringing him to his end with you. you feel the heat simmer down as he fills you, warmth spilling out even as his cock still plugs you. and you couldn’t be more thankful for denki being such a scumbag.

you don’t have enough strength to stay awake past that, all of your energy left with the last orgasm. at some point you wake up, you’re clean between your thighs and cuddled up on your brother's warm chest. you shift only an inch and you could feel him jump awake to pull you closer, leaving a kiss on the top of your head before you drift back to sleep with small smiles on both of your faces—happy to be your brother’s girl.

a / n : obligatory bkgs little sis tag : @vampireloverz <33 thank you stevie for inspiring me to write this in first place!!!! +++ happy birthday to The Guy !!!

reblogs + feedback appreciated !