#Or is this one of those weird things he's picked up on that little sibling can be used as a derogatory thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seijorhi · 5 days

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Oleander

Oikawa Tooru x female reader x Iwaizumi Hajime w.c 8.6k tw: yandere, mentions of child abuse and neglect, references to underage kissing, murder, horror themes, pseudo-cest (foster siblings), blanket dub/non-con vibes for a good portion of this

The patisserie smells of sugar, vanilla and freshly baked croissants. In a word; delicious.

For several minutes now, your brother’s been standing bent at the waist, studying the display case stacked full of cakes and desserts with an intense kind of focus. Considering. Deliberating. Inadvertently placing himself, and by extension you, as an obstacle for other people trying to do the same.

“Alright, the crepe cake or the fancy looking chocolate one, the…” Heisuke squints at the display case, trying to decipher the label, “gateaux? Or should we go for the red one with the strawberry mousse thing?”

Bingo. You hold back a smile.

“Go the strawberry one.” Nobody loves strawberries like your mom loves strawberries.

“Ok, great. We’ll grab that, a bottle of nice wine, hit the florist and I think that should do it.” He nods to himself, satisfied. “She’ll be over the moon.”

He’s not wrong. The woman you’ve called a mother for the past ten years would fall over herself for something as simple as a birthday card, regardless of the fact that your dad insists on going all out every year.

“She’s already over the moon; you’re home for the week.” The admission’s soft, hesitant – poking a little too close to an open wound for you to feel entirely comfortable voicing it. Hei gives you an odd look, but it mellows into something more genuine when he realises you’re not taking a stab at him.

Baby steps.

Finally, Heisuke steps up to the counter to order. Within minutes the cake’s boxed up, with little ice-packs slipped in to keep it cool, and paid for, and the two of you head out, you holding the door open for Hei to carefully maneuver his way out without jostling the precious, expensive cargo.

“You’re good at this stuff, y’know,” he says as the two of you fall into step together.

“At… picking cakes?”

He snorts, “No. I meant the whole… I don’t know. You’re good at remembering stuff, the cakes mom likes, dad’s weird habits. You probably already know what flowers we’re going to pick for her, don’t you?”

This time you don’t bother hiding your smile – peonies, pink ones.

You go to tell him as much when a loud voice calls out your name. On instinct, you both spin to the source, and when you meet those piercing, olive green eyes, bearing down at you from the other side of the street, your heart leaps into your throat.

A ghost.

You can’t breathe. For a moment you can’t even think. Your hand stretches out, blindly seeking Heisuke, an anchor, anything–

Before your fingers can brush his sleeve, a hard, lean body collides with yours, sweeping you up into a crushing hug. Not Iwaizumi, though.

Oikawa, taller, broader than the last time you saw him, smelling of citrus, summer and salt lets out a breathy noise, halfway between amazement and disbelief.

“There you are,” he beams, setting you back on unsteady legs.

Found you, the glint in his eyes seems to say.

Rather than let you go, step back and give you some much needed space to breathe, his palm instead slides to rest on your hip, taking your chin between the index finger and thumb of his other hand in order to look at you properly, dark eyes poring over you for signs of anything amiss – bruises, tear-tracks, red eyes, swollen, split lips.

Your mouth goes dry.

On one side, there’s your brother, bewildered, arm half outstretched as if he can’t make his mind up whether he should be intervening or not. Iwa’s already jogging across the street, snarling at a driver who lays on his horn.

The weight of Oikawa’s appraisal is as familiar to you as it is oppressive, and while his touch is delicate, featherlight, it burns to the marrow. Suddenly you’re fourteen again, trying to duck past him before he can notice the state of you.

‘It’s nothing, Tooru, don’t worry about it!’

And just like back then, there’s a knot in your chest that doesn’t loosen until satisfaction melts the too sharp edge to his grin – right as Iwa joins you two. Three, you suppose, because while Heisuke remains in stunned silence, eyes darting between you and Oikawa, he’s still party to this, still a witness, and the thought makes you want to curl up into a ball and disappear forever.

(You shove down the fleeting rush of warmth at the relief you find there, the voice in your head that coos that he still cares enough to check. You don’t want him to care.)

“Holy fuck,” Iwa laughs, and Oikawa’s shoved aside, both of you ignoring the indignant grumbling as your rigid body’s pulled into his chest, his hand finding its way to the back of your head. He breathes in slow. Deep.

He still smells the same, earthy and masculine, the faintest tinge of his last cigarette still clinging to his jacket. Back then, he used to steal them from your foster father. You imagine that now, he probably has the money to go off and buy his own.

“I’m sorry, who are you? What– can you let her go, please?”

If it wasn’t them, the sheer absurdity of the moment might’ve made you giggle. Heisuke’s ears are bright red, a flush that extends down his neck. He doesn’t look angry per se, uncomfortable, absolutely, but from the pinched expression on his face, it’s clear he’s fighting the urge to bite out something far less polite.

None of this, least of all the way they’re tugging you between them like a rag-doll, feels very polite to begin with.

As it is, Heisuke’s interruption has the intended effect. The fingers wound in your hair twitch, the cage of his arms drawing you closer. You almost expect the baring of teeth, a possessive snarl, yet it’s a small, almost imperceptible thing. He retreats – reluctantly – turning to glance at your brother, Oikawa by his side.

Judging from the stony, almost bored expression he levels at Hei, he’s not impressed.

“Friend of yours, imouto?” Oikawa’s purr skitters down your spine like ice. Unlike Iwa, there’s nothing less than friendly curiosity on the surface. He’s even smiling.

Tongue darting out to wet your lips, you find your voice.

“Hei, this is Iwaizumi and Oikawa,” you say, gesturing at each respectively. “We were in the same foster home for a while.” Sparing the two of them half a glance, you continue, “We’re actually right in the middle of something, if you’ll excuse us.”

The explicit dismissal’s bolder than you feel, but you’re proud that your voice doesn’t waver. You can’t say the same for your hand when you reach for Heisuke’s spare one, uttering the words that’ll only damn you further, “C’mon, nii-san. Mom and dad are waiting.”

Heisuke doesn’t blink. His hand slips into yours, the two of you sidestepping the pair and walking off towards the car without a backwards glance.

Neither one of you speaks until you’re buckled into the passenger seat, Heisuke adjusting the rear-view mirror, the cake safely stashed away in the back. Until you’re pulling out onto the main road and there’s distance between you and them.

If only the gnawing, unsettling feeling in your stomach would go with it.

“Sorry,” you mumble, blankly staring out the window at the passing scenery. At the clouds hanging overhead, dark and threatening. Funny, that. Fitting. The skies were clear when you left home this morning. “About the nii-san thing, and grabbing your hand,” you clarify, because whether it was rude or not, you’ll be damned before you apologise for brushing them off.

That’s not your relationship with Hei. It’s never been that.

He eyes you for a beat. “You know, I never understood why mom wanted to adopt so bad. Dad too, but mom was always the one pushing for it. We were happy, the three of us. I wasn’t a screw up, their marriage was solid. I couldn’t understand the need to bring someone else in. Our family was fine, perfect the way it was.”

His thumb taps against the steering wheel, his shoulders loose and relaxed. You can’t quite pin the mood he’s in, where he’s going with this.

“Oh,” you say, mostly because it feels like he’s waiting for you to acknowledge it.

None of what he’s saying is news to you. None of it’s anything you haven’t wondered yourself a thousand times over. It’s just that Heisuke… you’ve never talked about this. Your adoption, your relationship with him, none of it. This sort of honesty is brand new territory for you both.

You’re not so sure you’re loving the development.

“When they committed to it, I thought they’d bring home a baby, a kid, not some weird, skittish fourteen year old who wanted nothing to do with me.”

Ah.

Your cheeks heat, and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere but here. If Heisuke notices how you shift in your seat, the small tightening of your expression, he plows on regardless.

“You wouldn’t look at me, would barely talk to me. Hell, you acted like I had the plague most of the time. You didn’t hate me, I don’t think, you just… didn’t want to be anywhere near me, and it bugged the hell out of me. I couldn’t figure it out; who wouldn’t want an older brother to look out for them?” His next words hit you like a sledgehammer, cracking at something vital in your chest. It hurts before he opens his mouth.

“It was them, wasn’t it? The reason you steered clear ‘til I moved out of home.”

“Heis–”

He cuts you off with a look. “I’m right, aren’t I?” he demands.

“Can we just– it doesn’t matter, alright? Can we move on?”

From the unhappy set of his jaw – the first true sign of discontent he’s expressed since getting in the car with you – it’s obvious there’s more he wants to say. You can’t blame him for that, curiosity’s only human.

But you’re still too raw. It’s too soon.

You’ve spent too long burying those secrets deep to rip yourself apart to bring them to light.

“Please, Hei. Let’s focus on mom’s birthday.” You force a smile, tiny and wrong, “The florist is next, yeah?”

You get a grunt of acknowledgement and not much more than that, your brother’s attention pulling back to the drive. The silence that settles in the car should bring some relief. It’s what you wanted, and yet, amongst the churning feeling in your guts, the prickling at the back of your neck that hasn’t left you since you first spotted Iwa across the road, there’s a sense of discomfort that has nothing to do with crossing paths with your past life.

Like a slap in the face, it hits you that you’re floundering for something to say, something – anything – to bridge the sudden, stark divide between you. Something that won’t sound hollow and meaningless.

This thing you have with Heisuke. It took years, and maybe it’s skin deep and miles from what it should be, but the thought of losing it leaves you feeling oddly panicked.

It’ll… hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, because it’s about all you can give him right now, a tried and true method of soothing egos and hurt.

Heisuke doesn’t say anything for the remainder of the drive, and you resign yourself to the very real possibility that in the course of a single conversation, you’ve managed to fracture this fragile thing between you two.

Until you go for the door, and a hand on your wrist stops you. “Hey. I’m glad they did.”

—

When you startle awake a little after midnight, it’s because he’s yelling again.

Mr. Furukawa had been in fine form at dinner, already three beers deep. You can only begin to imagine what’s set him off now, hours after lights out. His wife, probably. Although it’s equally possible he’s caught the oldest sneaking back in from seeing his girlfriend, or the twins trying to break into the pantry for a midnight snack. Or he tripped and stubbed his toe, or thought someone stole the rest of his beer when in reality he’d already swallowed it down.

The reasons don’t really matter when he’s been drinking like that, in the same way that the initial target of his ire doesn’t matter. Once his voice reaches that slurred, furious pitch, anyone’s fair game.

There’s a pair of headphones in the top drawer, you have every intention of yanking them out and putting on one of your sleep playlists, drowning out the noise of your foster father’s drunken raging until he wears himself out or you fall back to sleep when you hear the thumping of his feet on the staircase.

“Where’s that fucking bitch?”

Eyes wide in the darkness, clutching at the comforter, your pulse jumps.

Again, it’s possible he’s talking about Mrs. Furukawa, or one of your foster sisters – the older one hunched over in the bed opposite yours, watching you shrewdly.

“Well go on then,” she sneers. “Run to your big brothers.”

You don’t bother to respond, any hesitation you might’ve had over leaving her to fend for herself shrivelling up under the mocking bitterness she’s sending your way. Fine, whatever. You don’t care what she thinks, scrambling from the warmth of your bed and hurrying for the door.

He’s halfway up the staircase when you reach their room. You’d knock – it’s the polite thing to do – except you definitely don’t want to be out in plain view when your foster father hits the landing.

“Hajime?” you whisper into the darkness, slipping inside and shutting the door behind you, “Tooru?”

“Shit, c’mere.” At Hajime’s voice, the calloused, rough hands that guide you onto his mattress, the vice around your chest loosens. He won’t come in here, not after Hajime socked him in the face after catching sight of the raised, discoloured flesh of your cheek from your last run in. You’ve gotten better at using make-up to conceal the marks since then, but there’s also been less of a need for it.

“Can I stay for a bit?” you ask. Until he calms down and passes out. Until the sun rises and you can sneak back into your room. Until you feel safe again. It’s kind of a pointless question, considering how many times you’ve done this before and how many times they’ve let you. You ask it anyway.

The scoff that sounds moments before the mattress dips on your other side is answer enough. “You should probably just move in at this point. We’ll kick Iwa out, he can go sleep in bitch-face’s room.”

Although you know you shouldn’t, a not-so-nice grin tugs at your lips, nestling into Tooru’s side under the arm he offers, “She’d drive him homicidal in a week.”

“Doesn’t she already?” Hajime mutters. “And fuck off, if anyone’s moving out it’s you.”

“You’d miss me too much.”

Absentmindedly, he rubs at your arm like it’s second nature. “In your dreams, Shitty-kawa.”

You can still hear Mr. Furukawa stomping around outside, snarling and snapping at no-one and nothing. Your pulse skitters, an inbuilt panic response. But the lights are off, you’re not being too noisy, and he’s wary of the other two.

He won’t come in here.

“Relax, we’ve got you,” Tooru breathes, his nose nudging at your temple. “Where were you this afternoon?” His voice is so soft, a soothing rumble that it takes you a second to register what he’s said.

“This afternoon?”

“Mm. You didn’t come home when you were supposed to. We were worried.”

He’s pouting, you can tell. Which– he can’t be genuinely bothered by it, it was only a few hours, and the Furukawas don’t care where you are or what you do so long as you’re back before curfew. You were.

A distraction then?

“I went out with some friends. We hung out at the arcade for a bit,” your expression brightens, thinking of the lights and the laughter, your feet blurring as you hit the sensors on Dance Dance Revolution… poorly. “It was actually pretty fun!”

Tooru hums again, “Which friends?” at the same time that Hajime says, “You didn’t tell us you were going out.”

“I didn’t realise I had to check in.” And because the slightly bitter and very defensive edge to your tone catches even you by surprise, you sigh, softening. “I’m allowed to have friends, aren’t I? A social life?”

You’ve been in this home for a few months now, and this is the first time any of your classmates have invited you anywhere.

This time it’s Tooru who sighs. He coaxes your face upwards with a hand on your cheek, peering through the dim light at you, “I’m not saying this to be cruel or hurt you, but… I need you to be more careful, okay?”

You frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His thumb glides across your cheek bone, hesitating on whatever it is he wants to say– at least until Hajime huffs and mutters, “Just tell her, dude. You’re the one that brought it up.”

“Tell me what?”

“You’re a foster kid,” he reminds you, as if this is vital information that’s somehow slipped your mind. “That’s all they see when they look at us, all they’ll ever see. No money, no family, nothing worth wasting their time on. We’re charity cases at best, at worst…” he trails off, the sentence dangling in the air.

He thinks it’s a trick, you realise. He thinks they’re setting you up in an elaborate joke where you’re the punchline.

Bright blue eyes and a crooked grin flash in your head. Cheeks dusted pink and the warmth of his hand in yours.

“That’s not true,” you defend, though the words sound weak even to your ears.

Now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark, the gentle, pitying expression on his face twists at your insides like a knife. You hardly notice Hajime scooching closer, shifting the blankets so they cover you both, too busy staring at your foster brother with wide eyes and parted lips, a thick lump of emotion lodging itself in your throat. Tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, and you blink them back.

You won’t cry in front of them over this. You refuse.

“No? You’ve been here for months now. If they wanted to be your friend, truly, genuinely wanted that, why haven’t they made an effort before now? I’m not trying to be a dick,” he murmurs when your breathing hitches, “The kids in this town, they’re assholes. I just can’t bear the thought of someone hurting you.”

Hajime nods. “We only wanna protect you, imouto.”

But you don’t need to be protected. Omori isn’t like that. His friends aren’t either.

—

When the last bell rings for the day, you walk down to the gates to find Hajime there, leaning against the brickwork with a pilfered cigarette dangling between his fingers.

That in and of itself isn’t a surprise. Lately they’ve taken up the habit of ditching their last period to make the half mile trek to your school in order to walk back home with you. Most days, you don’t mind. Today, however–

“I sent you a message at lunch, you didn’t need to come all the way down here, I’m going to a friend’s place to study. Sorry, I thought you would’ve seen it before you left.”

He drops the cherry red remnants of his cigarette to the ground and grinds the butt under his heel, eyeing you slowly from head to toe. “Which friend?”

“When did you become so nosey?” you laugh, a touch uneasily. “It’s only for an hour or so, I’ll be back before dinner, promise. I’m all yours after that.” The last part’s meant to lighten the mood a little, yet something flashes in his eyes, a twitch in his jaw, and you get the sense that he doesn’t find it all that funny.

“Which friend? That slimy piece of shit you were hanging out with last weekend?”

Omori? How does he–

You frown, “We went to the movies, Hajime, it’s not illegal. And he’s not slimy or a little shit, he’s my friend.” A friend who sets butterflies loose in your stomach and makes you weak at the knees, but Hajime doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh, I’m sure he wants to be your friend,” he mutters darkly.

Your cheeks burn hotly, “Why are you being like this? He’s a nice guy. Besides, it’s not him. I’m going to Masako’s to work on a group presentation we’ve got due in a few days. I didn’t think you’d make such a big deal out of it!”

“Your mistake,” he says, as if you’re the one being unreasonable here, and before you can spit out a retort, his hand is curled around your bicep, tugging you down the road. “C’mon, we’re going home. Tell your little friend you can work on your project tomorrow at lunch.”

“Ha-Hajime!” His too tight grip on you doesn’t relent, his stride doesn’t falter. Nervously, you dart a glance around, half hoping that someone will intercede, all the while praying that no one’s actually noticed him dragging you off like a misbehaving toddler.

As always, you’re not that lucky. The sight of your classmates pointing your way, giggling behind their hands sends a hot pulse of shame flooding through you.

“You know you’re not my actual brother, I don’t need your permission!”

That does stop him, turning back around to throw a scowl at you, “No? Because I don’t see anyone else lining up to stop you from spreading your legs for the first asshole who comes sniffing around. Jesus Christ, weren’t you listening the other day?”

“I’m fourteen!” you shriek, ripping your arm away from him. “Stop being gross and leave me alone, I already told you I’m going to Masako’s. We have a project. For school!”

In an instant, he closes the gap between you. Hajime isn’t as tall as Tooru, but at two years older, he still towers over you, all broad shouldered and intense, and while he’s always cut an intimidating figure, it strikes you that this is the first time you’ve ever looked at him and felt afraid.

A split second later, and he exhales with a mumbled curse, the tension deflating from his body like a pin’s been pulled. In a quieter voice, hooking an arm over your neck to press a fleeting kiss to your hair, he says, “Sometimes it feels like I’m losing my damn mind trying to keep us all safe and sane and fucking together.”

It’s not exactly an apology. Still…you shift on your feet, nibbling at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry for snapping,” you mumble – an olive branch, even if you’re not feeling particularly charitable right now. The problem is, you do understand where he’s coming from. In two years, they’ll both age out, free to go and do whatever the hell they want. There’s a not insignificant part of you that’s terrified that when that time comes, they’re not gonna hang around another two years waiting for you.

You’re not sure you can hold them to that promise.

And that’s if nothing happens before then. Foster kids in group homes get shuffled all the time, there’s no guarantee all three of you will still be with the Furukawas come their 18th birthdays.

Of course he’s over-protective. Of course he’s being a little nuts about it.

Hajime nods, pats you on the head and gives you a rare smile, “Good. Now get your ass moving, we gotta get home.”

“Wait, but I thought–” you’d apologised, he’d admitted he was overreacting… sort of. Isn’t that enough?

“Social worker’s coming by this afternoon. Furukawa wants us to play happy families ‘til they’re gone. Your friend’s gonna have to wait.”

And that’s that.

Dejection washes over you, trudging back home with Hajime – trying not to be childish and petty and hold it against him.

The social worker never shows, but there’s a message waiting on your phone when you finally manage to pry yourself away from Hajime and Tooru.

Your brother’s a dick. Raincheck? ;)

Butterflies erupt.

—

You’ve been biting your lip again.

The raw, chapped evidence stares back at you in the mirror.

A few days ago, they were a little swollen, rough and reddened. The sight of it sent a giddy sort of thrill through you, a physical – if not sore – reminder of your afternoon spent kissing a cute boy with very pretty blue eyes.

Now, the state of your lips is the least of your worries. You’ll bite your lips, gnaw on your fingernails right down to the quick, pace and think and pace and think, fingers tap, tap tapping at your side.

“You look tired.”

The arms that loop around your shoulders, dragging you back into a loose hug don’t bring the sense of comfort they usually do. Things have been weird between you. Off.

Ever since Tooru caught sight of your face that day, saw the messages on your phone.

‘I never took you for a liar, imouto.’

The resultant argument left you choking on sobs, heart-broken and beaten down in a way that you haven’t felt since you found out your parents died.

It’s a strange, alienating thing to be cut so viciously by the only people who give a damn about you.

At first, you had Omori there to help pick up the pieces. He wasn’t allowed over, of course, and even if he were, you doubt it’d do anything but throw a whole gallon of kerosene on the fire. Still, being able to message and vent to him felt like a lifeline.

And then he simply… stopped replying. Your last message sitting there for two days on read.

You tried not to feel hurt. Maybe this whole thing was too intense, too quick. My god, you weren’t even dating officially, he was just, you were–

It was fine. Not everyone’s tied to their phone, and he doesn’t owe you anything. Maybe something came up, maybe his phone died.

But then, come Monday, he wasn’t in school.

On Tuesday morning, sitting in first period maths, a grim-faced man in a dull suit informs your class that Omori’s been missing since Saturday morning. You’re passed a business card with the detective’s name and phone number printed in crisp, black font and encouraged to contact him if there’s anything you can think of that might help them.

Uneasy looks are shared. No one says a word.

Which brings you to today, to the hug Tooru’s drawn you into and his voice murmuring at your ear.

“Aren’t you still mad at me?”

His laugh rumbles at your back, “Maybe I miss you too much.”

You should tell him to shove it. Whether you’re in the right or the wrong, it’s not fair of him to play hot and cold with you like this. Being at odds with your brothers is painful enough on its own, dealing with that on top of everything with Omori – it’s too much. You’ll drown under the weight of it.

And so you turn, wrapping your arms around his middle and burying yourself against him. “I don’t wanna fight anymore. I’m sorry.”

While he doesn’t say anything back, he does squeeze you that little bit tighter. You’re content with that, soaking up the affection and comfort you’ve sorely been without. It’s an apology, yes. It’s also forgiveness.

“Where’s Hajime?” you ask after a little while. They aren’t inseparable by any means, but you don’t think you’ve seen him this afternoon at all.

Rather than answering you, the brunet pulls back enough to meet your gaze, a twinkle in his eyes, “We’re going out tonight.”

The words bring you up short. “But–”

“Furukawa won’t know a thing. It’ll be fun, pinky promise.” He holds out said pinky, the grin on his face infectious enough that you offer a tiny one of your own, locking your finger around his.

He winks.

—

“Sweetheart, shall we open the wine?”

She hasn’t stopped beaming all afternoon, delighted at the flowers and the gifts, your dad humming away in the kitchen, cooking enough to feed a small army.

Heisuke’s already plucking a bottle from the fridge, glasses set out on the counter. He lifts a questioning brow in your direction and you nod with as much of a smile as you can muster. Nothing sounds more appealing to you right now than a drink.

Several of them, actually. You’ll start with one.

“Thanks,” you murmur when he passes it to you.

Quietly enough that your parents won’t hear, he asks, “You good?”

“I’m good,” you reassure him, lying through your teeth. His knuckles knock against yours, and when you glance up, there’s a wordless promise that the two of you aren’t done with this.

He’s been watching you ever since you got home. Not in the predatory, possessive way they used to, just… you very reluctantly gave him crumbs – not even that much – yet he’s staring at you like you’re a piece of a puzzle he’s desperate to solve. He’s looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, and you don’t know how to deal with it.

It makes you nervous.

“Did something happen between you two?” The quiet voice at your side startles you – perhaps you’re more on edge than you’d like to admit, because your whole body flinches, the wine in your glass sloshing up over the rim, just barely avoiding your dress and the edge of the couch.

You hadn’t even noticed your mom had sat down.

Cursing under your breath, you jump up before she can, snatching some paper towels from the kitchen, paying no mind the slight, disapproving tilt to your father’s mein (the one which, to his credit, he does try to hide) to mop up the mess on the floor.

“Sorry,” you throw out, both for the spill and for swearing, because that too is something neither of your parents are fond of, but your mom’s quick to wave it away.

“Nonsense. You’re fine, sweet girl. Come, sit!” She pats the seat you’ve vacated. “Relax.”

Your dad’s in the kitchen, laughing with Hei. Your mom’s still happy – it’s slowly leaching from her eyes the longer she looks at you, the more she sees. Relax.

Today’s supposed to be a happy day.

Relax.

You can’t.

They know some of your past. Bits and pieces.

In ten years, you’ve never uttered a single word about them. Not to anyone.

The more you shove it down, the more it fights back, bubbling away inside of you like the tempest of a storm. You can feel yourself cracking, unshed tears burning at your eyes.

You can’t.

“… Mom–”

A knock cuts through the rising tide of emotion battering through you, and all four of you start.

Your dad moves first, drying his hands and striding on over to answer it. On his way, he glances to where you and your mom are sitting – instinctively. Unthinkingly. He glances her way a thousand times a day – to check in, to see what she’s doing, to catch those little expressions she makes, only this time he isn’t met with the picture of a happy wife and daughter. You see it when it hits him, the tension, your wrought expression, the hand your mom’s slipped you in the seconds since, holding you tight and keeping you tethered.

You see it when he does a double take, sharp surprise quickly overtaken by alarm.

Another knock at the door. Louder.

His head snaps back towards the door, glaring at it like it’s personally wronged him. “One sec,” he mutters to no one in particular, and your mom squeezes your hand as he yanks it open with a touch more force than necessary.

“Yes?”

The air punches out of your lungs.

From where you’re sitting, the door cracked ajar, your dad’s frame blocking the gap, you can’t see who’s there. Not until he peeks over your dad’s shoulder, his charming grin widening into something shark-like and predatory when he spots you, delighted.

An elevator careening out of control, your stomach plummets.

Ignoring your dad – your family as a whole – entirely, Oikawa addresses you. “You dropped this this morning. Clumsy girl.”

Iwa passes him something, your wallet, you realise when he holds it out to you, waving it like a dog treat.

Your wallet with your ID, this address, tucked away inside.

The wallet you absolutely, in no way dropped.

Primarily on instinct, shaking like a newborn foal, you start to rise, to stumble forward and take it from him, only it’s Heisuke who moves first. Angrier than you think you’ve ever seen him, he plants himself between you, one arm outstretched as if to keep you back, his withering gaze fixed on the duo.

“Thank you for returning it,” he bites out. “You can leave now.”

For your parents, already on edge, suspicious by their familiarity and your reaction to it, it’s enough to set their hackles up. Gone is any semblance of politeness when your father snatches your wallet from Oikawa’s fingers, “Go.”

Up until now, Oikawa’s paid them all the attention one would a gnat, an annoyance maybe, but one hardly worth acknowledging. That changes as his head tilts, dark eyes appraising your father.

“What’s the rush?” he asks, reaching behind him. You can’t see it, what with your dad and now Heisuke standing between you, but there’s movement, your dad lets out a sudden, choked off gurgle, lurching back inside.

Your eyes widen, a bone chilling horror taking hold of you as you spy the sleek black handle of a knife sticking out his gut, a slow stain of red seeping out around it.

“We’ve still got so much catching up to do.”

—

You’ve never been this far into the woods before.

Stars glitter overhead, condensation from your breath puffing out with every exhale. It’s cold out. The path you’re walking isn’t one of the trails they lay for hikers and tourists, and you’ve been walking for a while.

Still, Tooru’s hand is warm entwined with yours, and there’s that wicked thrill in your belly that comes from breaking the rules, doing secret, exciting things in the dead of night.

“Is Hajime waiting for us?” you ask, when you can hold the question back no longer.

“Always Hajime with you, isn’t it,” he teases. “Y’know, a guy could develop a complex with all this favouritism being thrown around.”

You’re pulled closer into his side even as he says it, and you go happily. You’ve got your brothers back – tonight you’re only thinking good thoughts.

Tonight he promised you fun.

A giddy bounce in your step, you follow where your big brother leads until you spot a glow in the trees ahead, smell the smoke on the mid-autumn breeze.

Tooru grins in the dark, “Have you ever been to a bonfire?”

You shake your head.

It takes another few minutes before you can see the fire in all its grandeur, Hajime standing off to the side, warming his hands against the flames. They dance through the clearing, bright and high and hot, hot enough that you briefly consider shedding the jacket Tooru swaddled you up in before you left.

A bonfire?

They built this for you?

You look incredulously to Tooru, “This is where he’s been all day?”

“More or less.”

“Do you like it, pretty girl?” Hajime calls out when you’re closer. Your hand slips from Tooru’s as you leap forward, allowing him to catch you in his arms and tug you against him, and like earlier with Tooru, it eases some of the hurt weighing you down. He’s here, he’s not angry anymore, you can fight and argue like siblings but they aren’t going anywhere.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, smoothing down your hair. “It’s pretty cool,” you tell him with a decisive nod, making him chuckle.

“Maybe we should add more accelerant,” Tooru says, eyeing the flames with a considering look. “I don’t know if it’s hot enough.”

Hajime scoffs, “We don’t need any more accelerant.”

“But–”

“It’s fine, dumbass. Leave it.”

Heaving out a long suffering sigh, Tooru takes the space on your other side. In the Western movies you’ve seen, these bonfire things usually have more of a party-like vibe. There’s music and dancing. Drinking. This is something wholly different.

You don’t mind the quiet, though, sitting between your brothers on the fallen log they dragged over. Listening to the crackle of the fire. Watching red embers spark and fly off into the night.

You’ve missed this. Them.

In the hypnosis of the fire, the heat that covers you like a blanket – burning strongly enough, despite what Tooru thinks, that down to a tee-shirt, leaning into Hajime’s side, Tooru playing with your fingers, you feel you could so easily drift off to sleep, sated and content.

“You love us, don’t you?” Tooru says it so quietly, so off-handedly, that for a moment you don’t hear the stinging accusation beneath the words.

When it does, whatever fleeting contentment you’d managed to wrap yourself up in is ripped away, leaving you cold and exposed.

A slap in the face might’ve stung less.

You gape at him. At the both of them. “How can you ask me that?”

Tooru shrugs, casual and cruel, “I dunno. You lied to us. Multiple times.”

“Snuck around behind our backs,” Hajime adds.

“Kept things from us. Don’t think we haven’t noticed the new lock on your phone, imouto. Doesn’t sound like love to me.”

“I– I’ve already apologised.” You try to keep your voice calm and level, but with every word that pours out of you, the faster your heart beats and the more distress leaks into your tone. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry I went behind your backs, I’m sorry I kissed him! I don’t know what you want from me, I don’t know how to fix this!”

Hot tears spring to your eyes, stinging as you ferociously blink them back.

If you start crying now, they’ll probably just mock you. That, or they’ll claim that you’re trying to manipulate them into feeling bad with crocodile tears and hiccuping sniffles.

In a tiny voice, you say, “I didn’t do any of it to hurt you. Please,” you beg helplessly. “You can’t keep holding it over my head and punishing me for it.”

“You think we’re punishing you?” Tooru asks, still in that cold, flat tone that makes you want to sob.

Aren’t they? Sure feels like it.

Hajime lets out a heavy exhale, shaking his head and staring up at the night sky. “You still don’t fucking get it.”

Hands slip under your armpits and without warning you find yourself hoisted onto Tooru’s lap. It’s whiplash, especially when he curls around you, those lithe arms caging you in, and presses a kiss to your burning cheek. “Iwa, brute that he is, is right. You’re not listening to us. This isn’t punishment. You can pretend to hate us, cry, yell, fight. You can try to shut us out if that’s what you feel you need, but this,” his chin juts out at the bonfire crackling merrily a few feet away, “this is love.” He shivers as he says it, voice like honey. “We did it for you, and I’d do so much more.”

Your head’s still spinning, reeling from being yanked from one extreme to another. Hot and cold. Spiteful to affectionate. You stare at the fire, but you don’t understand.

“Yeah, like you didn’t enjoy the hell out of it,” Hajime snorts, which makes even less sense.

“…You mean the– the bonfire?”

Tooru laughs. His nose skims along the shell of your ear, earning him a shiver of your own. “Hm, almost.”

So you peer at the fire like it’s supposed to give you the answers you need. There’s nothing. It’s a fire, there’s nothing special about…

Oh.

You learn forward – as much as the cage of his embrace will allow, at any rate – squinting a little. Nestled beneath the stacked logs and kindling, there’s an oddly shaped lump, black and gnarled, with ridges and a scooped out hollow that kinda looks like–

Your blood runs cold.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he croons. “You’ve been so sad all week, wondering where your friend up and disappeared to. Aren’t you glad to see him again?”

“No.” Whisper soft, the noise lost to the crackling of the fire. You shake your head, “This– you’re being cruel. Stop it, it’s not funny.”

But the tears you’ve so valiantly held back are falling, your breath coming in short, panicky gasps. The skull in the fire doesn’t look fake, and if this is a prank, it’s gone beyond too far.

Your head grows light and all too heavy at the same time, “That isn’t– you didn’t– you… you– you wouldn’t–”

“No?” the voice at your ear questions, low and dangerous. “You think I wouldn’t stab the little fuck after you kissed him?”

“Stop it,” you tearfully beg, squeezing your eyes shut. The skull’s still there, burned into the back of your eyelids.

No, no, no. Omori isn’t dead.

Omori isn’t dead.

Your heart slams against your ribs, a violent chorus to the swell of sick dread and fear you’re desperately trying to tamp down. Omori isn’t dead!

“STOP IT!”

They wouldn’t kill him.

The crunch of footsteps sounds, and you don’t need your vision to know that Hajime’s now crouching in front of you. When rough fingers seize your jaw, holding you in place, and he leans in close, almost nose to nose, they fly open regardless.

“You ever try that shit again, and next time we’ll drag you by the fucking hair and do it in front of you,” he promises, calm despite the fury that rages in his eyes.

Caged between them, Hajime appraises you, taking in your hysteria, the tears dripping down your face, your bottom lip quivering – as though he’s committing the sight to memory. His eyes dart to Tooru’s for a brief second, the latter squeezing your side, before he speaks. “If you’d listened to us in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. Don’t make us into monsters, sweetheart.”

Your fault is what you hear.

There’s a loud pop from the fire, and you lose it entirely.

You explode. Elbows flying, kicking, clawing. A wild, terrified, desperate thing, and it takes them by surprise – enough to catch Tooru in the gut, loosening his grip. Enough to knock Hajime back onto his ass. A gap, however small, for you to scramble to your knees, violently kicking back when a hand snatches at your ankle, and flee through the woods in the dark, away from the furious shouts, the raging footsteps chasing after you.

You run and your lungs burn, heaving for every breath.

The light of the bonfire disappears behind you, plunging the forest into an inky black, and the shouts and yells turn into calls of your name, then coaxing pleas, almost sounding worried. Eventually, those grow distant too, and fade away altogether.

You keep running, uncertain of where you’re going. No, blind to it entirely. All that matters is keeping out of their reach. You’ll run to the ends of the earth if you have to.

And so you push until your legs scream for a reprieve, until you taste iron on your tongue and when your body can keep the pace no longer, you stumble through the underbrush, tripping over roots and branches instead, pausing every once in a while to lean against a tree and catch your breath.

As your adrenaline fades and the sweat dampening your clothes cools, the cold night air bites like needles at your skin, you start to shiver, rubbing at your exposed arms in an effort to generate a little warmth. Bitterly, you remember that the jacket that you’d brought, the one Tooru had all but forced on you before you’d left, is back at the bonfire, slung over a nearby log. Useless to you now.

But the shivers that wrack your body aren’t solely from the dropping temperature.

Every snapping branch, hoot of an owl, rustle of leaves sends a fresh wave of terror spiking through you. You think of Tooru’s cruel smirk and Hajime’s bruising grip, of Omori’s skull staring back at you from the fire, flesh melted to the bone, black and twisted, and a ragged, distraught sob brings you to your knees.

Hopelessly lost, cold, frightened and alone, you curl into the dirt and cry.

—

Hikers find you at dawn.

Emergency services are called – an ambulance to take you to the nearest hospital to be poked and prodded, police to question why a fourteen year old girl was wandering the woods alone at night.

They treat you for dehydration and mild hypothermia, a few small cuts and scrapes, and when a soft spoken nurse pulls the curtain around your bed and gently asks if you’d like them to perform a rape kit, you blanch and shake your head. Eventually, they allow the detective into the room. In his late forties, bespectacled, a smattering of grey dusted throughout his close cropped black hair, he pulls up a chair beside the bed and patiently asks how you’re feeling.

If you were a better person, you’d tell him everything. The Furukawas’ abuse, your foster brothers’ increasingly overprotective behaviour, sneaking behind their back to see Omori and the fight that followed that nearly ripped you apart.

The bonfire.

Your fault, your fault, your fault.

Omori deserves that much. His parents should know what happened to their son.

Your jacket lying forgotten by his bones.

“Please don’t take me back there,” you mumble, tears shining in your eyes.

Back to the woods, or the Furukawas. Back to the boys you’d loved who’d murdered for you.

In the end, it doesn’t really matter that that’s all they can get out of you. A traumatised teenager found miles from home without a single soul raising the alarm would be one thing. When that traumatised teenager’s a girl supposedly under the care of government approved guardians, it raises red flags not even they can ignore.

By lunch, they’ve arranged for you to be placed back in an all-girl orphanage until a more suitable, long term solution can be found.

—

Some nights you dream that you’re back there, in their bedroom at the Furukawas’. It’s dark and cozy, there’s an arm slung over your waist and you find yourself drifting off to the steady beat of the heart behind you, soft snores by your ear.

They’re nice dreams. You feel safe, loved.

Tucked away in your subconscious, nothing exists but the sanctuary of them, and when you inevitably feel that tug of awareness coaxing you awake, you sink your fingers in and cling to it for dear life.

Just another minute. Another few seconds. Please.

Right now, you’d give anything to wake up and have this be nothing more than a nightmare you can banish.

But there’s no escaping this one. Your dad’s on the living room floor by the couch, hunkered over, pale and sweaty, pressing what was once a clean dish towel to the wound in his stomach. The coffee table’s been pushed to the side, Heisuke and your mom sat on the chairs Oikawa dragged into its place, ankles zip-tied to the legs, wrists bound, duct tape slapped across both of their mouths. Between the knife Oikawa idly toys with, still wet with blood, the handgun held loosely in Iwa’s palm and your dad slowly bleeding out on the floor, they’ve been compliant.

Much like you have, although you’re neither bound nor gagged, sitting in the armchair Iwa ushered you to, arms looped around your knees with the man himself perched against the backrest.

The only one of you making any kind of noise at all is your dad, his voice a slurring mumble, words near intelligible. He’s begging, you can tell that much. Pleading through gritted teeth for them to let you go, not to hurt you, your mom, Hei.

You desperately wanna tell him to save his breath, but you can’t even look at him – at any of them – without wanting to throw up.

“Do you still love us, imouto?”

Your eyes track Oikawa as he leans over the two chairs, the edge of his knife carelessly poised above Heisuke’s shoulder. From your periphery you see him flinch and stiffen, the sharp uptick of his breath smothered by duct tape, but you don’t dare shift your attention from the brunet smiling genially back at you.

Your heart squeezes, clenched by an invisible fist. Buried deep beneath the guilt and the paralysing dread, a slightly hysterical part of you almost wants to laugh.

“Do you think I could ever stop?”

Surprise flashes in his eyes and his grin widens. “You ran,” he accuses.

“You ran again this morning,” Iwa adds, sounding far less amused.

“I was scared.”

“Of us?” Iwa slides off the back of the couch, straightening up. In an instant, his hand’s wrapped around your throat, the broad pad of his thumb forcing your jaw upwards. “You think we’d ever fucking hurt you?” he growls, looking genuinely angry.

Distantly you register the sound of Heisuke’s muffled indignation, another gasping wheeze from your dad, but all that fades to the background as Iwa’s mouth crashes against yours.

He doesn’t kiss you sweetly. It’s invasive, rough. His hand flexes around your throat, forcing a gasp to drive his tongue between your lips, and you can feel every ounce of possession, of pent up need and frustration as he drags it on despite the awkward angle.

When he does break away, eyes darkened and simmering, he holds your gaze, ignoring the pointed throat clearing from the other side of the room. “Never,” he swears, waiting for you to nod before finally relaxing his grip. “Good girl.” To Oikawa, watching you both with a barely constrained hunger, he says, “Enough screwing around. Do it and let’s go.”

Oikawa huffs, rolling his eyes, “Fine. Should’ve known you’d get all impatient after you had a taste.”

“Like you’re not?”

There’s not enough air in the room, your heart’s doing somersaults in your chest, your pulse hammering through your veins. Oikawa stares at you, head tilted, the corner of his lip slowly curling up as you start to tremble, shaking your head, tears beading at your lashes, “I guess we could hurry it along.”

“No, please–”

“Shh, sweet girl. It’s okay.” You try to stand up, but Iwa takes a hold of your shoulder and forces you back down. “Me and Iwa, we were gonna give you a choice. Let you pick. If you could kill one of them, we’d let the other two go.”

A strangled sob rips its way free, your whole body shuddering with the force of it.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. We’re not gonna make you do that,” he comforts, side-stepping your now thrashing brother to make his way over towards you. “Cause the thing is, they kept you from us. Lied to you. Manipulated you. Whether they meant to or not, they hurt you. I don’t think they deserve that kind of mercy, do you?”

“No, no, no, please! Please don’t, please don’t hurt them–”

Abandoning his knife, he drops to a crouch in front of you, “We’re gonna make it right, and then we’ll go home, okay? We’ll take care of it.”

“Please, Tooru! I’ll do anything!”

There’s a kiss pressed to the crown of your head, the cushion behind your back being tugged free. “You don’t need to do anything,” Iwa says, the cold cocking of his gun echoing like a death knell.

“We love you. This one’s on us.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere iwaizumi hajime #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere iwaizumi x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon

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suzukiblu · 3 months

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5 headcanons meta for Plot Bunny, who wanted to know what Ma and Pa are currently thinking in the one where Kara gets to Earth on time and the Kents get a two-for-one special on free kids.

Ma and Pa aren't sure if their new kids are alien shapeshifters or bodysnatchers or just weird government experiments or whatever, but they're not really worried about it. Worst-case scenario, they'll be raising terrifying goop-kids, they figure. Or maybe crab-kids or something, after the possible larval stage. Lots of things end up crabs, right?? Crabs make sense. It’s whatever, the kiddos both still like pie and Kara is adorably helpful around the farm and Kal is just adorably ADORABLE.

The whole dang town thinks Kara is Kal's mom, and Ma and Pa don't know either way and so have been politely vague about answering everyone’s questions in case they're actually siblings or something. Those El eyes are VERY distinctive, though, especially on a planet without any other Kryptonians on it, so they’re pretty positive they’re related. They just don’t know how to ask a kid they’ve just met if she’s a teen mom or not with an intergalactic language barrier in the way. She’s just their foster child! Their totally legal foster child from . . . Norway?? Maybe???? Sure, Norway. They’ll go with Norway.

Martha is zero-reservations delighted to have a free baby (grandbaby??) AND a free daughter. She has been rewarded for her patience in life, and it is a DELIGHT. She wants to buy Kara all the pretty dresses and cute jewelry and braid her hair and teach her how to make every single baked good in the entire Midwest, but she’s doing her best to not be overwhelming. She is very easily destroyed by both Kara getting excited to learn new things and Kal’s giggles.

Jonathan is a little more uncertain about how to bond with a daughter and a maybe-grandbaby for about five seconds before deciding, actually it’s fine, he’ll just treat Kara like he would’ve treated a son and . . . well, he’ll follow her and Martha’s lead on how babies work, he supposes. Then he takes Kara out back to play catch while Martha watches Kal on the porch. They lose several baseballs in the back field just IMMEDIATELY and he wonders if suggesting his new kid join the baseball team once they get her in school is, like, a normal parental thing to do? Maybe?? He might just MENTION the idea if it comes up, he decides privately, and then buys a few more baseballs.

Martha and Jonathan are regularly comparing notes on how “human” their new kids are (or their new kid and grandkid; they’re not gonna be picky). They are increasingly convinced they’re going to have crab-kids sooner or later, but it’s whatever. As long as Kara doesn’t jump that high or pick up anything that heavy or make any of those incredibly weird noises she keeps making in front of any of the town busybodies, anyway. Also, why does Kal sound like a melodious car engine whenever he’s happy? Is that a weird thing? Is that a thing they should be concerned about? Well, it’s fine, as long as he’s happy.

#plot bunny #meta ecetera #wip: kara gets to earth on time

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azsazz · 11 months

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What's Mine

Rhysand x Eris x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Hear me out: alphas are super possessive anyway, but imagine high lord/future high lord - way more protective right? Especially in a scenario where there’s other ‘big bad alphas’ around e.g. other high lords at a ball, or at the court of nightmares

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, smut, Rhys using his daemati powers, fireplay maybe.

Word Count: 6,337

Notes: IS ERRHYS MY NEW FAVORITE THING? This is prob the best smut I've written tbh i'm obsessed with these two.

_________________________________________

The ballroom is spinning as you make your way towards the nearest wall. You’re sweating, body hot as you retreat, and it’s not the faewine or the dancing that has you feeling this way, you know it.

You stumble on the sweeping tail of your dress, tugging at the high collar of it as you go because it’s suffocating you and you don’t know why.

People are giving you weird looks.

You slump against the wall, knees locking as you try to stay upright. You don’t know what’s happening, your mind swirling as the intoxicating scents of alphas, betas, and bonded omegas throughout the ballroom sharpen, and your cunt throbs when you pick up the hint of the Night Court patrons within the mass of fae.

An unbonded omega will always be invited to a High Lord’s ball like this, especially one of Beron Vanserra’s parties, a feeding ground for worthy alphas to lay claim to their submissive species.

You’d begged Rhysand to come. As another set of eyes, you’d offered to protect the omegas who were being forced into bonds they didn’t want. It was the only reason Rhysand attended these things, though you weren’t entirely sure why the unbonded alpha High Lord of your court never took one of the preening omegas home.

Probably because some of them were spies.

As a beta, you didn’t have to worry about ruts or heats, letting lust and the urge to be bred make your choices for you. You were free to fuck who you pleased and lived how you wanted, the unlucky female of Rhysand’s Inner Circle who never presented as either of the desirable genus’.

So you don’t have an inkling of understanding of what’s going on. Someone would have had to poison your drink if you’re feeling this way, which isn’t entirely off of the table of possibilities. Being a member of Rhysand’s Inner Circle meant that you were an asset to him and a threat to everyone else.

“Shit,” you groan, clenching your legs together. But why would it be a poison that’s making lust burn your senses into a fiery oblivion. Why do you feel the need to follow the strong scents within the room and jump onto the cock of the nearest delicious smelling one?

You’re trying to clear your mind, focus on one thought at a time but it’s draining. It takes more effort that you’d like, you’d always prided yourself for your quick mind and battle solutions. But the only battle happening right now is the war within your body, fighting for something to exude the swelling pressure between your thighs.

You blink harshly, once, twice, as someone approaches. Their height covers the bright faelights that have been stinging your eyes and making your swirling head pound, and their scent nearly brings you to your knees and have you whimpering like a pup.

Eris Vanserra, eldest alpha of his siblings, stands before you, curiosity gleaming in those caramelized eyes of his.

He leans forward, and you feel the sharp tips of his teeth as he drags them over your covered throat. The sound of him lapping up your scent makes the hair at the nape of your neck stand. You hunch lower, sweat beading at your brow as you desperately try to make eye contact with anyone else in the crowded ballroom, but Eris’ shoulders are too wide, blocking your view.

“Ah, little omega,” he drawls, the silken taunt of his voice is a low rumble, all alpha. Your thighs clench together as instinct tries to take over and your heart pounds in your chest. You shouldn’t be this much of a mess beneath his caramel gaze, pupils so wide you can nearly see into the depths of his soul. “You shouldn’t have come here all alone–”

His words catch up to you through the haze of your mind, cutting through the clouds like a lightning strike. Your brows pull tight into a furrow as your hands slap against his chest, trying to shove him off to take a gasp of air. The room is much too hot and your dress sticks to your skin in the most uncomfortable way.

“I’m not! I’m just a beta,” you plead to the lordling. He’s all but touching you right now, caging you in with his hands pressed firmly to the wall on either side of your head. Eris falters for a moment, but then his eyes narrow and he’s scenting your neck again to be sure.

You’re overwhelmed by his proximity and the palms you’ve laid flat against his chest curl into fists, his finely pressed emerald shirt crumpling in your fingers as the heady scent of firewood and bourbon rushes your senses. It takes all of your self control not to pull his body into yours, not to let the cocky alpha heir slide his knee up against your dress-covered cunt so you can grind down on him like your body wants. Your arms shake with the effort to keep him at bay, both his and your own self control quickly dwindling. No. You need to find Rhys or Azriel or Cassian, someone from your own court who will know how to help you because this…this is not how betas are supposed to act.

“Don’t lie to me,” Eris hisses, pulling away slightly, just enough for you to catch the swirling black mass of darkness forming over his back. Your shoulders relax slightly, but Eris doesn’t take notice, too enthralled by the scent of your hormones spilling off of your body. “I know you want my knot, little omega, that you need it like the bitch in heat you are…”

Rhysand’s hand clamps down on the Autumn heir’s shoulder, sharp talons of onyx piercing the expensive shirt. The sharp twinge of blood has you drooling. If only it were up a few more inches, right on his throat and made by your teeth. The High Lord of darkness all but roars at the rivaling alpha. “Don’t fucking touch her.”

Eris doesn’t like being told what to do. He is an immovable force as Rhys squeezes with warning, pristine, red blood staining the dark fabric. Eris snarls and shoves off Rhys’ grip, lips curled in disgust from the way the Night Court swill has mottled his fine silks.

“I’ll touch whomever I please,” Eris spits, turning that heated gaze on you once more. His eyes are lit with not only the throes of lust, but anger as well. “Especially an unbound omega who wants my knot.”

Rhys falters at the lordling's words, smoldering violet gaze flicking to your pleading one. You see his lips part in response and the moment he catches a whiff of your new scent, pupils tightening to pins before blowing wide with darkness, shadows crawling up his skin.

“She’s mine,” Rhysand growls so low it makes the floor beneath you rumble. The sensation crawls up your legs and straight to your cunt. You clench your thighs together and keen softly, unable to control yourself.

You even almost bare your neck to him.

“She’s not,” Eris answers, flicking a dismissive hand in Rhys’ direction, attention fully on you.

“She will be,” Rhys fights, sidling up to your side. His arm brushes yours and you almost crumple in your spot, body screaming in response to the two hot-headed, unbonded alphas fighting to be the one to see you through your heat.

Eris seems more than pleased to taunt your High Lord. “And what if I were to claim her right now?” he drawls, stroking a flaming finger down your neck. You have to bite back the whimper threatening to slip from your mouth at his delicate touch. Damn your omega senses right now, you can’t be trusted with yourself because of how badly you need his knot. “I could just lean over and mark her right here…”

“Then I’ll kill you and fill this fucking court with so much darkness that you suffocate,” Rhys snarls, his tone predatory. It makes the alpha caging you in go stiff, muscles rippling in response to the threat. Let him go, and I will get you out of here, Rhys tacks on, slipping easily through your weakened mental shields.

I can’t, you cry in response. Your knuckles are white with the effort you’re using to hold onto Eris. If you let go, surely your knees will give out and you like the way that his body is up against yours, how his threatening words make your skin dance with pleasure. He’s protecting you.

You chance a peek up at the towering alpha and it's the biggest mistake you can make right now. His amber eyes are bright with fire, the ring around his pupil gleaming hot white. It makes you shrink lower in response, your body submitting to the male before you. Eris grins sharply.

“Are you threatening the future High Lord of Autumn?” he taunts. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even flick a glance to the brewing King of Night at your side. It infuriates Rhysand even more.

“No,” Rhysand responds easily, his fingers twitching to unwind yours from Eris’ shirt to take into his own. He wants you clinging to him like that, and by the Mother will he do absolutely anything necessary to take you home. “I’m threatening the fucking prick who’s trying to take what’s mine.”

Rhysand hadn’t ever told you, but you’d always caught his eye, since Cassian had introduced you to him centuries ago. But as a High Lord and an alpha, he hadn’t ever made a move, needing to find an omega to bear an heir. Old rules created before his own time. But now that you’re clearly an omega, and one in desperate need of an alpha's knot…the beast raging inside of him is moments from breaking free and claiming you for his own.

He will spill Eris’ blood in your honor. To prove to you that he is a male worthy of your time, deserving of the spot to knot you and see you through your first heat.

“And what does the little omega want?” Eris asks, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. Rhysand watches with dark eyes. You’re sure that you look a mess right now, damp with sweat, your legs shaking as they try to keep you on your feet. Your fists are still twisted in Eris’ shirt and you can’t seem to force yourself to let go. All you want to do is lie down and take his knot, let him fill you up and breed you until there’s a whole pack of firelings running around these halls.

But Rhys’ arm brushes against yours, his scent drifting your direction. It makes your eyes roll back into your head, the crisp scent of night and fresh cedar sharpening your senses. You want him too, want him wrapped around your body like the tattoos twisting up his arms, want to carry his darklings and see how he frets.

They are not safe thoughts but your body demands it of you. You hadn’t known that being an omega was so difficult, that you’d go into heat and would want all of the things you didn’t ever think you’d have some day.

You need to get out of here.

Eris tips your chin up and you don’t know when you’d buried your nose deep into the crook of his neck. The glistening skin of his throat shines and you know you’ve been licking over his scent glands but you’re too far gone to be embarrassed.

Through the haze, you make eye contact with Rhys, nervous that he’ll be furious with you for how you’re acting. His face is set in stone but you can read the rage in his eyes all too well, having seen it many times before. It isn’t directed at you. All he wants to do is rip the alpha away from you and take you home, back to the Night Court where the cool air will sate your senses and his cock will ease your pain.

“Both,” you gasp, choking on it as the thought floods your mind. “I want you both.”

“Fuck, darling,” Rhys curses. His hand finds your back, knuckles stroking down your spine in a motion you want to keep moving further south. “We can’t. We don’t have clearance to stay in Autumn longer than the night.”

You whimper loudly and their hands tighten on you, Eris’ falling from the wall to your hips to pull you closer. You nuzzle into him, the warmth delicious as the fabrics between the both of you brush the sensitive skin of your body as you writhe. His scent reminds you of cozy autumn nights spent before the fire with ciders in your hands and spices wafting through the air. He smells like comfort and protection.

“Take me back, then,” you pant, rutting against the autumnal heir as he slides a thigh between the slit of your dress to relieve some of the pain. You groan at the feeling. The friction is good but not nearly enough. Your hand finally melts away from Eris’ chest only to tug Rhysand closer behind you. The sharpness of night and forest reminds you of home. “Need you both.”

Caramel meets violet in a thunderstorm of anger, splintering apart when your panting turns uneven. You’re going to pass out if they can’t calm you down, and people are starting to whisper and stare at the sight of you pressed flush between both High Lords, making both of the alphas hackles rise.

“Like hell I’m letting her go,” Eris snarls, fingers brushing across your tight nipples as he slides them down your body. He wants to settle them on your hips but Rhysand is already there, trying to tug your hips to meet his straining cock in his trousers.

Eris bypasses Rhys’ grip on you in favor of slipping it between his leg and your sex, brushing against your clothed clit. He loves the way that your nails claw in response, nearly shredding the rest of his shirt, and he wants you to leave burning red marks across the planes of his pale back, wants to revel in the needy omega from Night.

He smirks at Rhysand as your head falls backwards onto his shoulder.

“Then give us permission to stay,” Rhys says darkly, hands sliding down your sides in wanton. His breath puffs against the sensitive skin of your neck and he takes the moment for a teasing lick that you want to turn into more, a claim on you, teeth deep in your flesh and drawing blood until you’re his, and then you want Eris to do so on the other side until you’re theirs and no one else can tell you any different.

The Autumn Court male would rather burn, but the tears in your eyes has him cussing and agreeing, “Fuck. Fine. You can stay until her heat is over. No longer.”

Rhysand’s eyes blaze at the terms, how the copper haired alpha hadn’t mentioned anything about you returning with him. His jaw clenches so hard you think you hear his teeth crack. “Agreed.”

The Night Court High Lord grunts as the pact is made, a deep purple burn branding his skin with an autumn rope of vine like cattle. Eris shudders with you in his hold as whispers of menacing nightmares slither across his skin like ice, wrapping around his wrist like a vice, locking the agreement into place.

As soon as the deal settles in his bones Eris winnows you away. Rhys growls in warning, his fingers are barely brushing against the Autumn Court heir at all, but the copper haired alpha smirks, not at all minding if Rhys gets lost along the way.

Asshole.

Dickhead.

Rhys tenses as the room whispers into view, prepared for any trap the eldest Vanserra may have taken you to. He knows it’s no longer the Woodland House, the massive estate built for Beron in the clearing of orange and crimson leaved trees. This place…is quaint, warm sunset filtering through the soft curtained windows. It smells like fresh cotton but he can scent the underlying staleness in the air.

Eris has never brought anyone here.

His gaze follows Rhysand like one of his shadowhounds, his grip on you tight like a vice. This is his home, and he will not be made to feel vulnerable nor ashamed of it when he’s the one who’s allowed the Night Court miscreant to stay.

“This is Briarhome,” he murmurs softly, the only reprieve he’s going to give the other alpha, who's still drinking in the room, “My home.”

Not the Woodland House. He never knots in the Woodland House. Not with his brothers and father so close, where everything can be – and is – used as a weapon. He hasn’t even brought an omega to this home, no, this is his sacred spot for him and his bonded omega…or future bonded omega.

And apparently Rhysand, for the night.

Maybe the High Lord has been wrong about him.

His bed looks like the perfect spot for nesting, filled with soft quilts and a mass of pillows that makes you want to climb into and never leave. Warmth fills your stomach and drips down your thighs at the thought of knotting the both of them in such a safe place. Your heart swells and Eris lifts you into his arms, the alpha all soft and gentle now that he’s in the privacy of his own home.

You whimper when he settles you and draws away, only to his knees to start undressing. The pain is overwhelming, and you’d feel bad for being the sweaty, needy mess that you are but it’s your new nature, and neither of them will let you feel bad about it.

Eris unbuttons his shirt, fingers moving deftly across the buttons as Rhysand circles the bed, searching for the best vantage point to grab at you. Your gaze moves to his violent purple ones, your breath catching in your throat at the predatory way he’s looking at you and Eris on the bed, nostrils flaring as your body reacts with a wave of arousal at his face.

You zero in on Eris as the silk shirt slips in rivulets down his pale skin, showing off an impressive set of muscles, adorned with freckles. Your hips buck and his smirk goes soft at the snivel you release, hands snaking down to relieve the ache between your thighs.

Rhys tuts from the side of the bed, slipping into your mind. It’s like walking through fog, with the amount of desire clouding your mind. He opens himself up, just for a moment, and is flooded with your intoxicating thoughts. The feeling floods straight to his cock and he groans, shutting himself out of your mind before his knot expands in his trousers.

He climbs onto the bed, fingertips dipped in night reaching for the high collar of your dress as Eris glides his hands up your exposed thighs, grabbing a fistful of the black fabric making up the bottom of your dress. You arch under their touch, moaning wildly and they haven’t even begun to touch you where you need.

Together, both alphas growling in response to your call, they tear the front of your dress open, collar to hemline, exposing your flushed, creamy skin. The air of the room laps at your overheating skin and you gasp as your nipples tighten.

Hands instantly find your body as yours fist into the sheets, Rhysand caressing your cheek as he turns your face to capture you in a blistering kiss while Eris tugs your panties down your legs in haste.

You jolt against Rhysand’s mouth as something flicks against your throbbing clit. The primal groan you hear in answer to your taste sends shivers up your spine, and Eris is diving in without warning, trying to bury himself in your cunt, sloppy tongue lapping at your slick, wetting his cheeks and marking himself with your flavor.

Rhysand’s teeth are sharp as they nip your lip, drawing your attention back to the Night Court alpha who’s demanding your time. He coaxes your fingers from the sheets and they immediately latch onto him, just as he wanted. His fingers trail across the tight skin of your breasts, dancing over your sensitive nipples as he licks into your mouth.

You don’t like the amount of clothes he has on. How the alpha is supposed to mount you with his body covered is impossible, and you tug at the collar of his shirt, showing your utter frustration through your actions because your mouth can’t form words.

Careful, omega, his voice reverberates in your skull and then he’s everywhere all at once. I’m the one in charge.

Are you sure? You pant against his open mouth, like he’s your will to breathe. And with the way that the alpha hands move, how he’s playing nice with the other High Lord right now, he might just be. Because Eris is the one–

I can be anywhere, be anything you want me to be, he purrs, power licking up your spine as you arch off of the bed. I can have you thinking that he is me, he continues darkly, and you know Eris is the one licking through your folds like a starved alpha, but when your head is forced up on Rhysand’s whim, it’s his face you see buried between your legs.

Off, you beg, pulling at his collar again. But perhaps your mind is so muddled with lust that he’s the one slurping at your cunt. Maybe it’s Eris who looms above you fully clothed…

A strangled cry spills from your mouth as the tongue licking at your clit burns. Your head clears and your gut coils at the sensation and it’s definitely Eris that’s down there, branding his mouth to your cunt.

Rhys slips out of his shirt but you hardly notice because you’re careening over the edge into a deliciously warm orgasm, gushing on Eris face as he holds your thighs open so he can continue flicking his tongue fervently. You drag his abandoned shirt to your nose, inhaling the roguish scent of him as you cum and Mother above if it doesn’t want to make the alpha fucking bond you right then.

But the orgasm hasn’t sated the heat that's burning through your body, the reprieve only lasts a moment before it hits you twice as hard.

You need one of their knots, and you don’t care which one gives it to you.

Rhysand steps around to the end of the bed, eyes pinned on the way Eris’ head is still buried deep in your snatch. He growls, getting a fistful of his copper locks and he rips the lordling away from your throbbing cunt. You let out a whimper so loud that it nearly makes him submit to you, but he cranes Eris’ neck backwards to admire the red of his swollen lips and your slick glistening across his cheeks.

You scramble to your elbows to see what’s happening and are entranced at the two alphas glaring at each other. Your heart and pussy throb in time with each other.

They must be having some sort of mental chat because Eris has a wicked gleam in his eye as he licks the remnants of your slick from his lips, making a show of it. Rhysand’s lip curls into a snarl and he jerks the Autumn alpha back, his neck straining at the unnatural angle as his unoccupied hand reaches for his belt, flicking the buckle open with ease.

Your hand snakes to your clit and you desperately need one of them but you’ll force your body to wait to be able to watch them like this.

“Finish it,” Rhys growls down at the alpha on his knees so that you can hear. Eris doesn’t like it, wants to send his flames licking up the Night Court King’s arm, but the look in those violet eyes makes it known that his darkness will only smother him to smoke. He reluctantly starts moving when you whine and Rhys cranes his neck further when he tries to look at you, undoing his leathers and pulling them down the strong columns of his thighs.

The High Lords prick bobs, head pink and shining with precum, and Eris’ throat works to swallow.

You think the male might take it into his mouth, and you know Rhysand would enjoy it too, because the fireling sure knows how to use that wicked mouth of his, but the alpha towering over him leans down, pompous and arrogant as ever, and kisses him.

It’s hot and heavy, the tension in the room thickening as the two alphas grapple for dominance. They’re all wide shoulders and primal growls, licking into each other's mouths like warriors meeting on the battlefield. Eris shoves his way to his feet without breaking the bruising kiss, and their bodies mold together in a striking image of chalk and bronze.

Your gasping breaths tear them apart, fingers fisting and manhandling each other in brutal lust. You’re working yourself through a second orgasm, just the sight of them aiding your heat, the need for them almost unbearable. You’re a shaking, sweating mess, but beautiful nonetheless as they stare down at you writhing on the bed.

Eris is the first to slip away and Rhys curses, following the heir but he’s too late because Eris is consoling you with a gentle kiss as he presses his cock into your needy cunt with a groan. He presses all of the air from your lungs, stifling you in the best way. His body is warm, cock hot as he pistons his hips in and out and in again.

His name is a prayer on your lips as he works, his hands everywhere, sending flickers of flames up your body every time he pulls out. He loves it, wants to hear you saying his name for the rest of forever, and he holds back a bark of ownership, body shaking with the effort it takes to keep himself from biting into the exposed skin of your neck.

Rhys climbs onto the bed again, watching with keen eyes how the lithe body of Eris Vanserra drags you to your edge. He’s muscled in all of the right places, ass flexing as he pumps into you, giving you everything your body so desperately craves.

The High Lord can tell that the other alphas knot is forming, from the sounds that he makes and the look in his eyes, the barring of his teeth and the offering of his own throat as your nails leave pink scratches down his back as you cum on his cock, so close to having what you want.

But the heir freezes and you scream, tears leaking from your eyes as you’re overcome with blistering heat – no longer Eris’ doing – and the fact that his knot is no longer growing inside of you, trying to lock the both of you together.

Rhysand is a greedy bastard and even though he’s in the home of the Autumn heir, he will never be second.

Eris’ chest heaves against yours but he can’t move, couldn’t if he wanted to, and damn the Cauldron does he want to. Fear slithers through his veins like the darkness in his mind before his fiery anger tries to flush the High Lord of the Night Court from his mind. He can only blame himself, letting the brick walls in his head crumble for you, an offering to let you into his mind as part of the bonding.

Get the fuck out of my head, he spits at the other alpha, who’s smirking down at him with lethal intent.

Are you sure you’re an alpha? Rhys teases, using his powers to tug the coiled male from your body. His limbs are locked, clutching to you like a vice as you squirm beneath him, chasing the knot that’s not expanding. You should be able to push me out.

Your words make no sense, coming out in high pitched noises and cries. Your body is burning, your bones hurt with the aching need for a knot, for their seed to spill into your womb like it's the only thing you need to live.

I’ll fucking kill you, Eris threatens as Rhys forces him away from you. He’s like a puppet, and he hates every second of his betraying limbs as he slides away. He’s frozen, on the edge of his knot growing and it will be painful the longer he holds it but Rhys is cradling you to his chest and playing every part of the hero he wishes he could be, soothing you and letting you clutch to him as he settles between your thighs.

He’s forced to watch the smirk Rhys tosses his way, paired with a wink that lets him know he won’t be moving unless he forces that alpha out, before the High Lord softens, turning to you and silencing your whimpers with a stroke of his tongue.

Rhys wastes no time, bucking into your slick cunt with ease. He shudders as you tighten around him, a whispered moan of his name crosses your lips like it’s your last breath and he can hardly take it, pistoning his hips faster for every sound that you make.

Your legs clamp around his waist and your hand falls away from the deep planes of his back, seeking out the other alpha who you can feel roiling on the other side of the bed. Your fingers find his hair, giving a light tug, showing him that you want him nearer, and it’s all Eris needs to break the chains of his mind with a growl so domineering it makes your cunt clamp and Rhysand’s knot form as he lies claim to your thrashing body.

“Yes, yes, please,” you gasp desperately, the feeling of his hot seed spurting into you, filling you up is everything. He’s so big, his cock expanding inside of you and trapping his cum there. Your mind spins with it and you let yourself go pliant when you’re sure that the alphas won’t kill each other over you.

Eris finds you, laying claim to your mouth as you slip into the blissful sensations of your omegaspace, feeling full and protected by the two alphas you’ve brought to bed. Later, you’ll need to knot again, and your heat will last for days on end, but with the both of them here you know you’ll be more than satiated.

The copper haired alpha murmurs into your ear but you’re too relaxed to make out his soft words but your hand tightens around his at the mention of him knotting you later.

“I’m going to give you everything you need, fawn,” he brushes the damp hair from your forehead as Rhysand strokes your cheek. He may not have daemati powers like the alpha Night Lord, and he loathes that the smug male can hear his vulnerable admissions, but he needs you to hear them. “Just give it a little time.”

“You know,” Rhysand croons when you doze off. He gently rolls the both of you so you’re more comfortable, lying on his chest. You nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck while you sleep, reveling in the scent of the alpha that’s giving you everything you need. His fingers stroke down the length of your spine and he nearly preens when you melt against him. His gaze shifts to the Autumn royal. “I could make you stop again.”

Eris' eyes blaze and his teeth flash in warning but Rhysand stops his speech before he can argue.

In your head, asshole, the Night Court native warns and the other alpha glares.

Not all of us have fancy mind-speaking skills, his voice is rough with flames.

Another reason that she belongs in the Night Court with me.

Copper eyes slash to his and Rhys can see the fury rippling from the alpha beside him. Eris knows that he can’t react how he wants to, to rip Rhysand off of you and steal you away. He makes a show of taking a calming breath, but when he lets his eyes trail down your sleeping form does he truly relax.

I want her, he says.

Me too, Rhysand counters, his grip on your tightening as another wave of his cum releases into you. Only a single thought of you had triggered his ruts before, sealing himself away in the hidden cabin in the mountains because he wouldn’t be able to stop the beast inside of him if you had been nearby.

And you don’t know Eris, not truly anyway. You’d met him in passing, at meetings where he’d done nothing but snark by his father’s side, but you’d always known that there was more to them in that burnt caramel gaze.

She wants the both of us, Rhysand continues, but Eris’ temper is still hot.

Me too, he blurts, and the entire room plunges into stillness.

Rhysand’s body goes stiff at the admission but you let out a pleased sigh like you’re agreeing with Eris. You want the both of them, and his accidental admission says he’s willing to share you, to share himself with the both of you, if Rhysand should want it.

Violet eyes rake across heated cheeks and red lips that part in nervousness, Eris’ tongue flicking out to wet them. He’s devastatingly handsome like most High Fae, but there’s an aura to him that makes something in the Night Court alphas gut churn.

But when he tries to catch the other alphas' gaze Eris won’t look his way. He’s busying himself by playing with your hair, fluffing the mass amounts of pillows on his bed, and gathering drinks and snacks from a nearby closet stocked specifically for this. You’ll need to keep your energy up and both alphas will have to coax you to eat, even though all you’ll want for the next few days is to fuck.

Eris, Rhysand calls and the lordling stops. He takes the moment to stare, eyes dragging down his pale skin from where his copper hair curls at the nape of his neck to his tapered waist and down. He knows that he’s hung, even if he couldn’t see the head of his cock between his legs from the way he’s standing stock still across the room, he’s seen it as it plunged into your body at a pace that made his cock bob.

Slowly, the Autumn alpha looks over his shoulder, heart pounding like a drum in his chest. Rhysand waves him closer, he’s already too far away from the both of you, if the whimper that Rhysand wants to mimic slips from your slips.

She’ll need you soon, Rhys says. He can feel the way that your body is already heating up, how his knot has started to deflate. We’ll need you soon.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅

You wake to soft voices and even softer kisses. You’re sweating, body hot as you’re pinned between two muscular bodies, the alphas you’d begged to knot you.

Craning your head upwards you catch the sight of Rhysand and Eris, lips locked in a much sweeter kiss than the one they’d shared earlier.

They look glorious, tongues lapping lazily as limbs brush across each other and yours in between. You don’t know what’s happened while you were asleep but it’s nice that they’re finally getting along.

You watch for as long as your body will allow. You know that they both know that you’re awake, but you’re not sure if their kissing is a reaction to your pheromones driving their alpha senses while they waited for you to wake or their own doing, but Mother is it a sight to see.

Eris’ hand strokes up Rhys’ cock softly, twisting firmer as he reaches the head and runs a thumb over his slit. The High Lord’s breath shatters, body vibrating beneath the fiery grip of the Autumn male.

You moan softly, hands slipping down your body to relieve yourself but Rhys’ hand is catching yours and dragging it to his cock with Eris’.

“Both of you,” he pants, voice raspy with need. Your cunt gushes at the vulnerability in his voice, the soft way he’s commanding your motions. “Eris will take care of you, darling.”

“Yes, fawn,” the lordling breathes, rolling so he’s flush to your back. You’re manhandled onto your side and receive no warning as Eris shoves into you with a keen of his own, filling you to the brim with his throbbing cock.

Neither of you has to worry about being stopped by the High Lord of Night.

He aides your sex, slipping into the both of your minds and sharing images of the both of you together, feelings of each other and how your hands feel around his weeping cock, how tight and hot you are clenching around Eris’ cock, sharing how full you feel with him so far deep inside of you.

None of you last very long.

You cry out at an image created of Rhysands imagination; you pressed between the two of them as they both drive into you, sharing you like you never knew you needed. You bare your throat to both of them, begging the alphas to bite into the flesh of your neck, to mate and bond and love you forever.

And they do, sharing a look with each other that says they’ll figure out all of the details later, but for now, and the next few days, they have you, and they have each other. They solidify the bond in the soft bed of Briarhome, and let you mark their necks the same way in the throes of your heat, the Mother allowing your souls to forge together like the deadliest weapon.

And with both High Lords by your side, you know you will be.

#rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar #acomaf #azsazz #acowar #rhysand #a/b/o #acotar a/b/o #eris x reader #rhysand x eris x reader #eris

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solar-wing · 8 months

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🦇 Surviving Damian: BatBro's Life 🎞️

I don't know why, but the way Damian turns to look at Dick in this clip has me rolling

🦇 🎞️ A/N → A continuation of my Batbro Headcanons with everyone's favorite little assassin, Damian. This is also inspired by this post from @batsiblingfun. This mixes in a lot of different elements from different DC shows and movies, but still all tie together. Conner x Reader along with Damian x Raven included. WARNINGS: None really. family fluff, minor threats of violence. You and Damian conspiring together. Bruce needs his lawyers. Mentions of trauma and therapy. Joker being Joker.

🦇🎞️ Summary → It's one thing to find out Bruce Wayne is your biological father. It's another thing to find out you also have a half-brother from the same father who also didn't meet him until around the same time you did. Now, some would consider getting a new older brother to be a good thing. Of course, when they point out what they see as an ideal image of that, Damian Wayne is more or less far from it. Truthfully, you'd need an entire documentary to explain that trauma. But, in his defense, he did warn Bruce not to make him a middle child. Oh well...

🦇🎞️ Word Count → 5.3k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

🦇 ENJOY 🎞️

— Some may imagine having Bruce Wayne as your father entails a glamorous and extravagant life.

— "Oh wow! Your dad is Bruce Wayne? That's so cool!" "I bet you've been to so many great places." "Have you met any celebrities before?" "Your life must be so interesting!"

— To answer that, depends on the day. The watchtower is cool, but not as interesting as what you saw on that one trip to Puerto Rico. Would Superman even be considered a celebrity? And, define interesting.

— Because if you mean 'interesting' like waking up every day wondering if it's going to be some random supervillain that unalives you, or your own brother, then yes, your life is fascinating.

— What most people don't consider when they find out your father is Bruce Wayne is not only did you all of a sudden get a new parent, but you also got new siblings. As your eldest brother Dick once said, "I went from being an only child to living in utter chaos every day." The only difference is that Dick actually somewhat thrives in chaos. Which is weird considering you'd think it'd be someone more like Jason who lived by that statement.

— You, on the other hand, would rather go without the constant weird shit that goes on with your father and siblings all being a bunch of vigilantes who save your city and the world from crazy clowns and guys who clearly like to live every day like it's Halloween.

— But, the thing is, 90% of the shit you have to deal with doesn't even come from those creeps and villains. It's literally from your own house, specifically one person.

— At one point in your life, you wished to have a sibling. Someone you could share that irreplaceable bond with. Fighting over small stuff like the remote, or who got first dibs on Alfred's cookies. Only to kiss and make up later when one of you got bored or hungry. Insulting and torturing each other only to join forces if someone outside of you two decided to mess with the other. Coming up with crazy schemes that would inevitably shorten your father's life expectancy.

— You know, normal stuff.

— You'd think Dick would get the title of 'most stable' among your siblings, but surprisingly, that was awarded to Jason, which, I know right?! Mind you, 'stable' was being used on very loose terms here. But, Richard was almost more like a second dad than a brother, which you figured came with the role of being the oldest sibling. Since he had the most experience dealing with an emotionally absent Bruce, he'd pick up where he fell off. Of course, Bruce got better over time and learned how to not distance himself whenever his feelings got even a little poked, but Richard was always your go-to whenever you needed support.

— You'd almost considered Jason for the title of most unstable, but then you met Tim, and realized Jason was actually better than you thought, considering what he's been through. Your second oldest brother wasn't really open towards you, but as you two started to spend time together, you grew on him and vice versa. At one point, the Red Hood persona vowed to not only do everything he could to keep you safe but as innocent and pure as you could be. He would not let Bruce and his questionable parenting ruin another child. His earlier methods were probably not the most effective. CPS was still calling at least once a week.

— There weren't enough words to describe Tim. When you first came to the mansion, he seemed completely normal and sane for the most part. Then, after you discovered your father's side hustle, you realized how opposite the reality was. You remembered something your mom said about the only things she was scared of. "I only fear two things in this life; God and the IRS." Well, you'd definitely be adding a certain Red Robin to that list. There were just things Tim would say or do that he thought was completely normal, and you'd be discreetly dialing a mental hospital, fearing for your safety. Why did you know the number for one off the top of your head? Let's just say you had your reasons. But, you'd rather have Tim as an ally than an enemy, so you refrained. That didn't stop you from keeping them on speed dial though.

— Yes, you definitely had some interesting siblings, but none of them compared to your other brother. The one you regrettably shared blood with. Hopefully, he didn't hear you say that.

— It was one thing to have Bruce Wayne as a father. It was an entirely different thing to have Damian Wayne for a brother.

— The first day you two met, Damian had already been at the manor for a few months when Talia had left him with Bruce while she went to handle business. What business that entailed, your father kept you in the shadows, and quite frankly, you were grateful. After your mom left you on the manor's doorsteps with a note that just read, "Trust me, he's yours," your life was never the same.

— You remembered being excited that day. You finally got to meet your dad, and you got a brother out of it too! Multiple brothers and sisters actually! Whoever was out there listening to you had answered your deepest wishes.

— Now, you wished they just minded their damn business.

— Unlike Damian, you were not aware of your father's secret identity. So, when you met, you were a little more than put off by Damian's first greeting towards you.

— "Father, I thought we discussed your habit of picking up street rats and turning them into your next apprentice."

— Truthfully, that was actually more than a pleasant start to your relationship with the trained assassin. When you eventually heard the story of how Dick and Damian "met" for the first time, you suddenly felt grateful at the fact there were no sharp objects nearby...that you knew of.

— If you happened to start locking your bedroom door at night and setting booby traps to alert you if anyone came in while you were sleeping, that was no one else's business but yours.

— The thing was, you tried to connect with Damian, but he would keep brushing you off. Bruce really wasn't that much help as he didn't have the best track record with his first three kids.

— The issue was you and Damian came from two completely different backgrounds, despite your shared parenthood.

— Damian was raised among an organization of highly-trained assassins and was molded from the second he was born to take over from his grandfather who was the equivalent of an undead lich, only he was actually alive. You had a normal childhood for the most part. You went to school, made friends, tried different hobbies, etc.

— You saw Damian as uptight and weird, and he saw you as naive and weak.

— Of course, as everything does in this family, shit only got more intense.

— After Bruce ran a DNA test and confirmed you were indeed his son, they got you set up in the manor and your new life. Your last name was officially changed to Wayne with you wanting to keep your mother's surname hyphenated in there.

— You wanted to decorate your bedroom, so you asked your dad to take you shopping, fully intending to take advantage of your newfound wealth (your mother taught you well). Bruce figured it'd be a great way for you and him to get to know each other as he was trying to be more of the supportive dad that Dick and Jason lectured him about. And if CPS decided to give him another one of their 'visits,' he'd rather not provide them with any more reasons to be taking down notes. He was still trying to find a way to punish Jason for that stunt.

— And at Alfred's suggestion, he brought Damian along, thinking it'd be great family time for the Wayne men, and it'd give his firstborn a chance at being an actual kid since Damian never decorated his room when he first got there.

— You went all out. At some point, Bruce wondered if everything he was buying was starting to become too much, but you threw him the puppy dog look you mastered at three years old, and he folded like a lawn chair. Your mother had grown resistant to that trick so, it was great to finally be using it again. Posters, knick-knacks, a new desk, a whole gaming set-up, LED lights, a gaming chair, you name it, you got it. You'd even tried to get Damian to get a few things for himself, wanting to get to know more about your brother.

— "I don't need materialistic objects to satisfy myself like you and other low-lives do. Besides, you're only doing this to 'make up' for the more than likely poor life you lived before with whoever your harlot mother is."

— Alright, that did it. You tackled Damian in the middle of the mall, throwing all your weight on top of him. Of course, you were unaware of his combat training so he threw you off pretty easily, pushing you to the ground and twisting your arm behind your back to where he almost broke it. Bruce had to yank him off you and grab you as well to prevent you from charging him again while everyone else around was taking pictures and videos.

— Bruce's PR team was not happy with the stories and articles on the gossip websites the next morning. But, they managed to twist it around into a positive light, painting the Billionaire Playboy as the role model male, doing his best to raise his two boys as best he could being a single father.

— "Oh, he's such a family man. #EvenMoreAttactive". – @Supermom92

— "He's a good man, Vanessa. A good man." - @mooreswhore

— "This is what we need more of. Strong men taking charge in their son's lives." – @topalpha

— "#GladTheyAin'tMyKids." – @aynonymous

— Of course, this did nothing to help the relationship between you and the youngest Boy Wonder, but Alfred's reassurance eased Bruce's headache.

— "Truthfully, Master Wayne, it would seem to me they are already falling quite well into their new roles as brothers. It will get better over time."

— When exactly was better? Because things only seemed to get more tense between you two. The fights didn't end there. As you spent more time in the manor, you'd gotten to know your other adoptive siblings. And particularly, spending time with your second oldest brother, you'd learned some defensive moves in fighting that only led to your fights with Damian getting worse now that you could hold your own a little more.

— Only there were some moves that you knew that Damian didn't, which really caused a shit storm.

— It may have taken Dick and Jason's combined strength to hold Damian back from trying to literally slice your throat open after you introduced him to the art of the cheese neck. Jason thought it was hilarious and low-key well deserved since your half-brother decided to cut open one of the stuffed bears you had since you were four. Alfred was able to put him back together, but that didn't help the need for revenge you had in the pit of your stomach.

— Since he couldn't murder you, he decided to go with the next best thing he had in mind; mental torture!

— He knew you loved Scooby-Doo, but had a slight fear of some of the monsters and scenes from the show. Look, shit from back in the 70s could be creepy with how they decided to do specific stuff. And sadly on your part, Damian had amazing resources thanks to dear old Papa Bruce.

— So, one day when you thought Bruce was on a business trip (he was on a League mission, and Dick, Jason, and Tim were nowhere to be found along with Alfred), you had the manor to yourself. Or, at least, you thought you did.

— Let's just say Damian decided to place you in your own Scooby-Doo episode, only a tad bit more rated R. Last time you checked, the vampire from that one episode didn't actually have blood and guts dripping from his teeth while chasing Shaggy and Scooby.

— Yeah, Bruce low-key had to invest in a therapist for that one. And CPS definitely took a note down when they saw part of the costume had fallen out of a trash bag and your "concerning" reaction to it. Damian had no shame.

— "Next time, he'll think twice about whose neck he's slapping."

— "Master Bruce, I really do think they're starting to grow on each other, if I do say so myself." This time, Alfred's words were not reassuring for the billionaire.

— Eventually, you and Damian came to a mutual understanding. You stay out of his way, and he would stay out of your way. And it worked! At least until you found out the big secret, and no not the one where Tim...actually, never mind.

— It was an accident, really it was. At least that's how Jason and Tim tried to spin it when he had to explain to Bruce how you thought Red Hood and Red Robin broke into the manor. In truth, they thought you were at a friend's house studying, and the tracker that was stitched to your backpack showed that.

— Hold up... tracker?

— You'd grill them and your dad for that later.

— Now, you were constantly in the Batcave and working Damian's last nerve. You kept asking to help on missions or patrol, and shockingly, this was the one time when Bruce put his foot down and said no to having an adolescent child fighting crime with him.

— Who would've figured?

— The most he'd let you do was help Alfred with comms and computer stuff. Of course, that'd only lead to you and Damian getting into one of your brotherly spats over the comms.

— "At least I have competent training to be in the field. You can barely defend yourself against a cat." Damian sneered into his mic while roundhouse-kicking a thug.

— "First of all you stuck-up brat, Alfred the Cat and I have a lovely relationship and we were play fighting. Secondly, the only thing you're competent at is proving what happens when you forget to use protection!" You quipped right back.

— Dick and Tim tried holding back their laughs while Jason just shouted "DAMN!" Bruce had to pretend not to notice Damian's glare through the domino mask and Alfred pretended to scold you while giving you a fist bump. The Boy Wonder was grinding his teeth.

— Then, a miracle happened. Well, really it was a traumatic experience that Bruce would have to pay for more sessions with your therapist but still was a miracle in the end.

— In another one of his crazy schemes, Joker decided to target Bruce Wayne again, but this time, the newly discovered heirs to Wayne Enterprises, at least, that's what the media was referring to you as.

— He hired some goons to abduct you and Damian from your school and hid you both in one of his many secret hideouts around Gotham. And Joker, never one for subtlety, of course, decided to send out a televised message to Brucie Poosie, a name disturbingly similar to Joker's nickname for Batman. He'd addressed that later.

— Your father and siblings immediately jumped into action of course and started searching the entire city, checking all of Joker's known hideouts and connections. Only, Joker had apparently taken some inspiration and notes from Riddler because while he was busy taunting and trying to shake down Bruce Wayne for everything he could, he was leading Batman and his little birdies (his nickname for all the Robins) on a wild goose chase.

— The more and more time went by, the more and more they got worried for you. Of course, they were worried for Damian as well, but he was used to these kinds of situations. This was your first (and frankly, probably not last) kidnapping.

— At first, you weren't scared (much). No offense, but, Joker always kind of seemed like a joke to you. The fact his whole persona was based on a mad clown really didn't help. You had also never really watched the news or heard people talking about some of the horrible things he had done. You always just heard the part when Batman swooped in and kicked his ass.

— Well, if you made it out of this, you'd definitely have nightmares and a new fear of clowns to add to your list. May have to start considering two-hour sessions with your therapist.

— But, to your surprise, Damian had helped to keep you calm and protected you from seeing more of Joker's 'fun side'. Whenever the clown or one of his thugs got a little too close to your holding cell for your brother's liking, he always placed himself in front of you, just in case they decided to fuck around and find out so he could be ready.

— When the green-haired villain went on one of his disturbing tangents or talked about his plans for you two in case your father didn't follow through with his demands, Damian would cover your ears. Of course, it didn't do much, but the sentiment was appreciated. Your older brother, despite his 'quirks', actually did have a caring side to him. It just took being kidnapped by a psychotic clown and your lives being in terrible danger for it to show. Go figure.

— Of course, your father and siblings eventually tracked you and Damian down and came to your rescue. From what you had seen from your father and brothers in their fighting style, they always were more smart and sneaky with their attacks and ambushes. Jason was more of the impulsive and brash one who liked to rush in, but he grew more into the Bat's style over time. Especially seeing how the last time he rushed into something concerning the Joker, well, there's no need to go down that road.

— But, nope. This time, Bruce was not forgiving with his 'justice' towards Joker. Honestly, you and your siblings were a little worried that Bruce would break his number one rule on no killing for the first time, but he still held back. In the middle of all the chaos, you'd even managed to surprise Damian when some goons tried to surprise you and him after he broke you guys out of the cell. And who said video games couldn't teach you a thing or two about fighting?

— Damian was impressed, and more than curious to see what kind of games you were playing that taught you the fastest way to incapacitate a 200-pound man with a few jabs and well-placed strikes. That or you were insanely lucky to have a man who could barely defend himself against a child. Either way, a win was a win for you.

— Obviously, things changed a bit when you two returned home.

— For one, your family became a lot more clingy and overprotective than before. And that was saying something considering they had a tracker stitched into your backpack without your knowledge before. There was a rotation between the brothers of who would drop off and pick you up from school. This was already a rule before, but now, it was just even more intense with you not being able to leave the manor or go anywhere without someone from the family accompanying you. Bruce started training you in self-defense and combat, with regulations and supervision from your brothers so he didn't make the same mistakes he made with them with you.

— You appreciated it all, and it definitely did help you feel a bit safer (in the beginning), but, really one of the most shocking changes not just to yourself, but everyone else was Damian's change in attitude toward you. Of course, he wasn't outright hugging you or anything crazy like that, but he was more cordial and almost friendlier you could say.

— It was also very apparent Damian had developed a similar protective stance toward you. You being the only non-vigilante in the family meant you kept an aura of innocence and light-heartedness the rest of your family had lost a long time ago. They were more than determined to make sure you kept that light and never lost it like they did so many years ago.

— Thankfully, your time with Joker wasn't anything too traumatic. Joker was actually on one of his schemes for once and didn't do anything too drastic. But, that didn't stop your brother from glaring down any suspicious figure who got too close to you for his liking. If you asked to hang out at a friend's house, Damian took over Bruce's role of asking for details on your friend, they're parents, where you'd be going, and all that extra stuff. If you were aware of the fact that Damian was running full background checks on your friends and their families whenever you went to hang out with them, you pretended not to notice.

– Bruce also had a teary moment of being a proud father seeing how Damian was showing already to be just like him. Which, if we're being honest, was actually a terrifying thought.

— But, it wasn't just Damian who started making an effort to build a more friendly bond between you two. You'd contributed as well. Showing Damian the ways he could learn to let loose and actually be a kid instead of a trained assassin all the time.

— You'd invited him more than once to hang out with you and your friends that you made from school. Hesitant at first at the idea of hanging out with others that weren't you and his family, you managed to convince him when Dick, Jason, and Tim got into one of their own brotherly spats, and Jason decided to start chasing the two around the house with a rag wet with a 'mysterious' substance.

— "Your local comrades quarters it is then." Damian muttered before quickly ushering you out the door with Alfred towing behind since you needed someone to drive you. Damian offered since he kept claiming he knew how, but Bruce still wasn't going for it.

— With your help, Damian actually learned to make friends with kids his own age. He developed hobbies and interests that had nothing to do with anything sharp or pointy (that didn't mean you weren't gonna booby trap your room still just in case).

— He even joined an art club at school and you both decided to enroll in a martial arts club together as well. It'd actually become quite the inside joke between you two. There was one guy in there, Carter, who swore he was the best fighter in the entire school and he could take any one of these 'runts' down, including you and Damian.

— Now, you were still learning and getting comfortable fighting from your lessons with your dad and brothers. When Carter decided to pick on you and Damian as the Wayne brats and challenged you both to a sparring match, boy he did not know what he was getting himself into. Especially when you and your brother looked at each other with the most mischievous evil smirks anyone had ever seen.

— When Bruce got a call from the school later that some parents were looking to try and sue him for the 'extensive harm' his kids did to their kid, he could only raise an eyebrow when you and Damian appeared in his office, smiling like you both were innocent angels.

— "See, Master Bruce. I told you if you'd given it some time, they'd grow on each other." Alfred said to him later that evening.

— Only Bruce was now more concerned than ever. When you and Damian basically hated each other, he only had to worry about the terror and havoc you two would unleash inside the manor. Now, that you were basically best buddies, he'd have to worry about inside and outside the house.

— "I'm gonna be meeting with my lawyers more frequently, aren't I Alfred?" Bruce asked.

— Alfred gave a small chuckle as he patted the man's shoulders. "Oh, Master Bruce, most certainly."

— The butler wasn't wrong.

— You and Damian became like a force that everyone was scared to cross. Even your own brothers were slightly afraid of the kind of shit you two could get into. You'd come up with the crazy schemes and ideas, mapping out any and all details while handling any technological stuff which you had gotten really good at considering the time you spent with Alfred in the Batcave monitoring missions. And, Damian would do the more physical acts required as well as sneaking and sleuthing around if need be.

— Bruce had a meeting with his attorneys at least once a week because of you two.

— You'd even developed your own sense of overprotectiveness over your older brother. Some guy in the art club Damian had joined at school decided to try and pick with him and messed up one of his paintings. Surprisingly, Damian was calm about it and didn't even yell or react at him. Just scoffed at the guy and called him pathetic.

— You did not have a similar reaction.

— When word got around the school and managed to reach your ears, you were for lack of a better word, feeling quite revengeful. The next day at school, that guy became the laughingstock of your entire class when a private photo mysteriously made its way into every student's locker in your grade.

— When Damian found out, he immediately confronted you about it, and you could only smile innocently while feigning ignorance.

— "Why, brother?! How could you even think to accuse me of such a vile act of one's breach of privacy."

— "Y/N..." Damian said.

— "Fine, it was me. But, you have to admit, it is quite a lovely picture. And besides, nobody messes with my brother except me." You smiled.

— Damian only gave a small smile, grabbing you to give you a noogie on the head before walking for the exit of the school to head home. He tried not to let such a small statement get him overly emotional since he'd never really had anyone before you and your family be so caring and defensive over him. Not even his mother.

— The older you two got, the more close you became. At one point, Dick even started to joke that if one of you had gotten involved in some stupid and even dangerous plot, it wouldn't be long before the other got involved as well.

— "You'd even given yourself the nickname of the Blood Brothers since you and Damian liked to remind your other siblings more than once who Bruce's actual kin was, especially Dick whenever he went on one of his tirades about being the first Robin blah blah blah...

— Tim did happen to point out your chosen name's disturbing similarity to one widely known supervillain to which you scoffed in response.

— "Oh please, Brother Blood wishes he had half the brains and looks me and Dami have. Isn't that right, bro?" You said turning to Damian holding out a fist bump.

— "I refuse to get involved in this."

— And given your bond with each other, it was of course all too expected that you would each get involved in each other's love lives. When Damian was sent away to Titans Tower to learn how to be part of a team, you were very pissed at Bruce since he was breaking up you and his team.

— Honestly, Bruce hadn't even considered that, but he was happy and looking forward to the much-needed break from his weekly meetings with his lawyers concerning his sons and their growing stack of attempted lawsuits.

— It was a shock to not only you but to Damian from how you knew when he returned from the tower on a visit, and you asked "Who is she," with your arms crossed and tapping your foot against the ground.

— From your daily calls and messages, you'd picked up quite fast that Damian was crushing on someone, you just didn't know who. You figured it may have been that Tara girl you heard had joined the team, who should consider herself lucky she succumbed to her own fate and not the one you'd planned for her after finding out what she did to your brother and his comrades.

— Superman and Wonder Woman were still campaigning to put you on the League's high-priority watch list after hearing and witnessing some of the things you got up to with and without your brother. So they and everyone else in the League who had the fortune (or misfortune) of meeting you had no qualms that whatever you planned for the blonde earth-powered girl, was nothing short of maniacal.

— When you found out it was Raven after your dad brought you along to Damian's surprise party at the Tower with the rest of the team, you managed to get a chance alone with the half-human, half-demon girl, exchanging some friendly banter and humor. You'd also jokingly (but also not jokingly) warned her that if she hurt your brother in any way shape or form, you'd give her a fate worse than anything her father could ever imagine.

— Weirdly enough, she smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

— "I promise, you don't have to worry about anything from me. And, I can see now why he cares a lot about you. You both protect each other."

— To which you replied with a simple, "He's my brother." Nothing else needed to be said between the two of you. You both were aware of Damian's past, you more than Raven of course, so you knew Damian sometimes needed some extra care and love. You could clearly see that was something she had every intention of making sure he got.

— You approved.

— Now, if only you could get Damian to approve of you and Conner.

— Let's just say, neither your father nor your brothers were anywhere near please when they found out about you and the half-Kryptonian's relationship.

— Dick just couldn't fathom that both of his baby brothers were dating someone from the two teams he helped co-found.

— Jason didn't like that you were dating someone he couldn't really intimidate or threaten the way he wanted since the dude was a literal teen Superman.

— Tim was oddly okay with it at first. But, when you started abandoning him and your regular scheduled gaming sessions for your dates and hangouts with Conner, he was more than ever determined to take down the half-Kryptonian.

— Damian didn't like the idea of you with someone so much stronger than you and could hurt you very easily. To which you pointed out he was dating a half-demon whose father has more than once tried to take over the universe and she almost helped him in succeeding.

— "Not the point, little brother."

— You did have to warn your boyfriend though, because, unlike your other brothers with the exception of possibly Tim, Damian had his own hidden secret cache of Kryptonite for emergency if it was ever needed.

— How you knew?

— Well, after you and Conner announced your relationship, you noticed your father and brother consistently making trips to the vault where all the Kryptonite was stored. And, you once caught your dad making a smaller version of the 'special' jewelry he used to fight Superman that one time, which you figured had to be for Damian.

— "Oh come on! I don't see anyone walking around with crosses and holy water whenever Damian goes out with Raven. But, y'all are ready to pull out all the stops whenever Conner and I even look like we're about to hug!" You yelled at your family.

— Damian stepped forward, placing what was supposed to be a comforting hand on your shoulder.

— "I do apologize brother. But, you should really be blaming Father for this, since I did technically warn him what would happen if he made me a middle child.

— "He did." You heard your father's day from behind.

— Someone really needed to make a documentary about your life.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

848 notes · View notes

silamander · 11 days

Text

Random Hatchetfield headcanons in no particular order.

In honor of Cinderella's Castle being fully funded, have my silly little thoughts about Hatchetfield and it's residents (A few of these I yoinked from Tumblr so they're mine now :3)

Richie and Pete are both autistic. Grace is too but she has lower functioning autism.

Pete’s special interest is horror movies/special effects. Grace and Richie's special interests are…pretty obvious. But Richie also loves Godzilla and Grace loves the supernatural.

Jon Matteson said that Paul might be autistic, so I take that as canon. On top of that he has undiagnosed depression and anxiety.

Paul has two siblings. One being Gary, his little brother. And his older sister, who he lives with, who is actually Richie's mother. Richie's father died when he was very young so Paul stepped up to help his sister and nephew financially, and he’s the closest thing Richie has to a father figure.

For someone who used to tell Gary and his sister that he'd never have kids, Paul adores Richie and tries his absolute best to be the father he never had.

Boy Jerry is Paul and Gary’s cousin.

Ruth and Richie probably met when they were really young & both were lonely & in need of a friend. Like walking up on the playground “you wanna be friends?” “Yeah!” type of deal.

Paul and Charlotte were friends in middle school-high school.

Gary decorates his house like a suburban white mom, those rustic white letters in the kitchen, everything labeled in slightly stretched text, that type of thing.

In the proshot for NPMD, Ms. Chasity uses the correct pronouns for Ziggy. So I headcanon that The Chasity family, despite being hardcore christians, respect the LGBTQ community.

The most lethal weapon in all of Hatchetfield is Grace Chasity’s puppy dog eyes.

Charlotte’s sweater was a birthday gift from Ted. He made her swear not to tell anyone it came from him. He has a reputation, y’know?

Paul uses his phone like a grandma, he puts on the glasses to read and everything.

Gary knows how to play the piano.

Ted loves Steph and treats her like his sister. He's so proud of Peter for not only pulling one of the most popular girls in school, but that same girl is helping him with his self image and confidence.

Charlotte does yarn crafts (like knitting and crochet and cross stitch and shit) to get her anger out because stabby stabby.

Barry Swift is fully, completely, absolutely, 100% gay and in denial about it. Also he and Gary are childhood friends (to feed the Attorney in a hurry fans).

The people who went to Sycamore are, in no particular order; Paul Matthews, Charlotte Sweetly, Sam Sweetly, Gary Goldstein, Barry Swift, Karen & Mark Chasity, Dan Reynolds, Nora Beanie, and Melissa Nolastname.

Grace is the type of girl who says she hates drama and gossip but she knows all the drama at Hatchetfield High.

Like Paul, Gary is also autistic.

Paul drives Richie, Steph, Pete, Grace and Ruth everywhere. Paul likes all of Richie's friends even if they're a little weird (he finds Grace a little obnoxious though but he's not gonna say it)

Steph says Paul’s aesthetic is “Cardboardcore”

Pete is just the most attentive and perceptive partner ever. In every sense of the words. He picks up on every little detail. Steph had a bad day? Pete instantly knows how to cheer her up. Steph is excited about something and needs to talk about it? Hey babe what’s up tell me all about it. Pete’s the type to start keeping snacks on hand because he knows Steph’s internal clock and that she always forgets to eat and then gets hangry after a few hours.

When Stephanie is exhausted she literally makes no sense, she babbles the most nonsensical bullshit.

Barry Swift has ADHD and OCD.

Gary wears those blue pinstripe pajamas. With the lil hat too.

Paul has the most unorganized and dirty room for some reason, like he never even bothered decorating it.

Sam and Charlotte were high school sweethearts and kinda rushed into marriage soon after graduating.

Gary wanted to buy a Wiggly doll for Richie.

Steph’s ripped jeans had small holes in them when she bought them and her dad made fun of her for buying something already broken so she made the holes bigger out of spite.

Grace has asked Steph, Pete, Richie and Ruth at least 3 times if they would still love her if she was a worm.

Gary unironically refers to Facebook as "the book of faces”

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scara-writes · 9 months

Text

change of heart

Sugar Mommy Reader X Y! Gold digger Male

Let's make a story about the reader falling in love first :>

Yes, this yandere is an asshole.

Might make a part two?

CW: yandere, manipulation, consensual-smut, gold digger yandere

No proof read. Will edit it later on.

cerise=cherry🍒

(THIS IS REPOST BECAUSE I REALIZED THAT SIDE BLOGS HAS LIMITED ACCESS ;-;)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Sheon wasn't rich nor poor but he wanted an easy money to make his life easier.

He knows he was becoming addicted on spending money. He can't blame himself, he was getting picked on for not having enough money to buy what he wants unlike his rich classmates that will flaunt their items at each other. He even sneak out of his way to take his father's credit card to buy him useless things that would entertain himself for a little bit like games and toys, Sheon would also flaunt them that his parents has the money when in actuality he is in the middle class. Although his arrogance did not last long after his father finds out about it, grounded him for a whole year for that. He still kept on spending money, he was pretty good at accounting which pretty weird coming from someone who spends a lot.

Now that he became a college student, with his major being aligned in accounting. His parents literally forced him to move out and gave him a right amount of allowance every month for him to study from his dream university but it wasn't enough. He just wants more money to spend, either to indulge himself or to avoid being picked on by his peers.

Not until he met you.

A kind person who introduced yourself to him, your cheeks were bright red as you told him that you fell inlove at first sight.

Sheon do look good. He was popular among women around the campus but those said girls can only glance at him as they feel bad that he was only a middle class. So don't blame him when he was surprised at your sudden confession, and he wanted to reject you right away, the red haired doesn't have the time to find a love, he wants money not a freeloader. But when you told him your last name when you introduce yourself to him, it caught him off guard.

"what was...your last name again?"

"(l-l/n)!" You exclaimed as you bashfully waited for his response about your confesion.

There are three siblings that is going to inherit three companies. If he remembered correctly, he saw an article of on one of them inheriting the biggest company once they graduated. Your face is somewhat coincidentally look the same as it is in the article.

A dark idea pop up to his mind. His greed was whispering at him.

If he can be with you. He can get what he wants right?

Easy money is easy life!

"…so… C-can I court you?" Your hands fiddling as you wait for his response. He looked at you up and down. You looked pretty average for his taste. The only thing that is pretty about you is the money you will inherit, but hey that will do if he wants to get what he wants.

The greedy man grinned and traps you between his arms and lean down to meet your face. Not even caring at the other student passing by looking at the both of you by either cringing or looking weirdly.

He boldly gave your left cheek a quick peck before answering your question with another question.

"… If I say yes, what's in it for me love?"

Not long after, the two of you became official. Your courting lasted around two weeks and that's about it. He always request for you to buy him this and that and you gave it him the very next day as you love him very much and trusted him wholeheartedly. He would taunt the said gifts he received from you to his old peers that he got himself the items that is much worth than their brand. Their frown look satisfies him.

Some of them asked where did he got the money to buy, but he will answer one word. cerise.

No one knows about his plan except for his ex friend, Tyr.

The ex friend of his cut ties off with him immediately after knowing he was using an innocent person like you for his greed.

Oh well his lost! He was about to share his dimes and gold with him.

Sheon thought about what will he give you something back for all the items you gave him. Well, His exchange for everything was himself of course!

His body is probably enough to make you feel something close to heaven. It made you whine out in satisfaction whenever he hit the right spot. Sheon could tell you never experienced this, a virgin at that. The way you moan out his name make his heart swell with pride.

"…is.. this what it..nghh… f-feels..uuhhmm..l-like?" You whimpered when he hit the same spot that made you cried out it on pleasure. Your hands were trembling around his sweaty shoulder, eyes rolling when he hits it again. He leaned to down to peck your parted lips. "… Do you like it?"

He fastened his pace up to chase down the ecstasy that you were feeling. He felt the walls grip of yours tightened around him feeling that you are getting close.

"I… I love…i-it..p-please don't s-stop!" You moaned out, unconsciously digging your nails to his skin. Sheon smirked at your reaction, wiping off your sweaty temple before giving it a soft kiss, then giving what you asked for.

You must be missing out from parties, seeing you had never experience like this before and that's okay. So long as this is a payment to get what he wants.

"Your wish is my command, cerise." He whispered his pet name to you.

"I-I love Sheon." You whimpered as you feel him pulled out when he gave you released. Sheon sighs, his load went through your stomach, giving you one last kiss before cleaning you up. Dabbing the towel around your body, cleaning you gently, asking you if he hurt you too badly. You answered meekly, telling him that you are fine, he was a sweet for giving you an aftercare.

He scoffs at you, teasing you. "It's a bare minimum, cerise. It's normal to take care of their partner after their love making." He carried you at the bathroom of your own apartment. Putting you down at the bathtub as he twist the faucet open.

Sheon joined you in the bath, he gently massage your scalp, making you shudder in relaxation, "do you like it?"

"I love it." You meekly replied leaning your back between his thighs. He wash down the foam around your hair, he rinse the shampoo out after he was done. He took a soap and was about to clean your body too but you insist that you will do it yourself. Sheon stopped and heed your words and starts washing himself up, the male was the first one to finish, he dried himself off by his own towel and starts to wear the pajamas that was already prepared besides the lavatory. After he was done, he told you that he will prepare you a snacks and turn on the tv for the movie you requested yesterday.

The red haired male's relationship with you went pretty well. Of course his body and his face shouldn't be the only thing he could do for you. He needed to act like a good boyfriend, being the fast learner that he is. He found himself, he was rather good at cooking and baking.

He would lie if he say he doesn't enjoy it when he cooks for you.

He would give you your favorites, something you cannot eat in your household. You told him you were on a strict diet ordered by your very own parents. They didn't know your relationship with him, Sheon was a secret affair and you revealed you were in arrange marriage during the time you courted him. It worried him seeing that his source of money will leave him for the arrange marriage.

You held his hand and you promised him that it will never happen, that you will fight for the "love" the two of you had.

The greedy male stared at you for a minute, realizing you are too naïve to think that he actually loves you. Were you that oblivious?

He wanted to laugh at your face but…

Why does his heart starts hammering when you told him that you will fight for him against your parents?

A little guilt went up to his throat before swallowing it by his pride.

The two of you lasted for three years as a couple, graduated and help him out to hire him to your company. His colleagues at his work respected him quickly seeing that he is the boyfriend of their soon-to-be boss, Sheon enjoyed the power he had over them, no more people looking down on him.

It didn't last long because your parents immediately confronted you about him and you had enough of it. It was the first time you neglected your parents orders and Sheon was there to witness it.

"I don't care about the agreement! The arrange marriage, I didn't agree on that! Mother, Father! I've been nothing but a good child since the day I was born! I have never ever went against you and I am obedient child who never goes against your will just so the two of you can be happy! But this is the only time I asked for you to let me have something I want in my life!" He felt the grip of your hands on him. The red haired male stares at your quivering form but he saw how determined you are about him.

He felt guilty knowing he was the cause of why you arguing with your parents right now.

Wait… He's feeling guilty?

"He's using you for your money! Look at your ridiculous amount you spent! From the moment you had a relationship with him!" Your father shouted at you, before glaring at him.

Truthfully, your father wasn't wrong. He used you for your money.

"And so what? I am willing to give everything he wants because I love him!"

Do you love him that much?

"The least I could do for him is to give what he likes because he is the only person who showed me what it feels like to be loved!"

Throughout the heated argument with your parents. He was silent for the whole time until you broke down to tears. Just a droplet from your tears made himself go blank. Sheon didn't know what happened to himself, all he knows that his body act on its own and went to cover your vulnerability from your parents.

You were surprised at his action before letting yourself be buried in his chest.

"I think it's time for us to leave." He told your parents before guiding you out to leave the mansion, not looking back.

He hop you on the passenger seat of his car before closing the doorway after he heard your parents trailing behind him, yelling. He doesn't want you to hear what he was about to say.

His blue eyes glared at them.

"I have never throughout in our relationship witness (Y/n) weep and broken down until this day, I always ensure her happiness on everything I'd done. If we have disagreements we will let each other agree to separate for a little bit until we are calm enough to discuss it again."

His mouth continued to flow out the next words he didn't think he would find himself struggling with his words. Thankfully, he didn't stutter.

"...I love her more than you could ever know. I won't let her cry and force her to do the things she doesn't want to. If she doesn't want something, she will let me know and I will stop because I don't want her to feel sad, bothered and suffocate. Truthfully, your daughter is the most sincere person that I've known in my entire life. She always gives out her best to make everyone happy."

He let out a deep breath. "I cannot believe she went through all her years of her life of enduring your demands and pressures the day she was born. It's no wonder your children are starting to neglect you. Most people might have called an authority because of your abuse if it weren't for the money you have. Every child deserve a parents but not every parents deserve a child." He paused before continuing again.

"If I see her cry again because of the both of you.No matter how much money you used to separate us. I will make sure you will regret it." With that he walk around his car before opening the doorway of the driver seat and drive away from your wrecked family. The whole ride was silent. Sheon never felt his heart rate beating this fast.

What happened to him?

Why did he do that?

What if his job from your company is going to make him terminated from his internship?

You were still on your way to become boss but your parents still owns it as long as they are alive.

"… I-I'm sorry.. you witnessed that." You sniffed as you tried to wipe off your tears trying your best to minimize your hiccups.

"… Don't mention it." He grunted before tossing you a box of tissue carelessly, eyes trained at the road not caring if you catch it or not.

You blew away your snots, as his thoughts were clouded of doubt.

"Stop crying." He said before parking the car after reaching his home. You nodded, trying to minimize your tears.

He exited the car and you did too before following him behind. A small squeak was heard from the car indicating that his car is locked.

Sheon didn't bother on walking beside you as he went to unlock the door of his home.

He went himself in, he doesn't care to tell you to follow because you will.

You sat on the couch and collect your thoughts for bit, staring the tiled floor of the living room. He look at your form and rolled his eyes before changing his clothes. What's next? Are you going to be stuck with him, onwards?

He went to the kitchen and starts to cook. Trying his best figure out something but nothing comes up in his mind.

He put the food in to two plates before serving you a lasagna. "Eat, cerise."

You thanked him and starts to eat your food slowly, your appetite isn't in good shape after your burst of emotion to your parents.

Sheon just picked his food but not eating as he stared at you.

What is he going to do with you now? He can't have you here! You… You need to come back and apologize! What if your parents cut off your card? Most of your money were from your parents! Then what about his money? What about the items you promised him to buy it for him?!

what about your feelings?

…what about her..?..

Stop... Stop making him feel guilty.

He quietly sigh and starts to eat. This mixed feelings are eating him up.

"Does it taste good?" He asked. You nod, sniffing.

"Leave the plate, I'll wash them up later. You can have my bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

You tried to reason him that you can sleep on the couch but he insisted.

You were stuck with him for three months. Your card was indeed cut off and you and him were evicted temporarily at your company by your mother. At that time he was conflicted whether or not he should just ditch you…. Since you don't have money anymore. You just stay at home.

Seeing you apologize for being inconvenient at his home he felt guilty for thinking about it. But for some reason... he can't bare the thought of you wandering around depending on no one.

Sheon went outside to get a hose to water the outdoor the plants until he saw a man who looks similar to you.

"Hey." The said stranger called for him. He must be one of your sibling, seeing almost all of your resemblance to him, except his demeanor. People would feel intimidated when they look at him but not him, Sheon wasn't scared of him. He is one of the siblings who neglect his parents.

The red haired male raised his eyebrow before walking up to him.

"Yes? Do you need something?"

"… My older sister, (Y/n)? Are you perhaps her boyfriend..?" The way he spoke the word boyfriend. Sheon can feel the distaste from him.

"What about it?"

His (e/c) eyes was staring at his soul. They both of knew they are never gonna be in good terms.

"(Y/n) can go back to the company. Our parents needs her."

"And what? Are they gonna invalidate her again?"

Your brother scoff. "If that were to happen, she can call me right away. They can't complain when it comes to me. They know I don't act like my soft hearted older sister." He tossed an atm card at him. Sheon catches it confused.

"What's this for?"

"Give that to my sister. It's her new card."

Your brother pulled the handle of his own car before going in. "What about (Y/n)? Do you not want to look at her?"

"No need… I'm sure she will be fine."

After that, He left without a bid of farewell.

Sheon looked at the card in his hand. Greed went on his mind to keep the card and hide it from you. Just telling you the details that you can go back to the company. He should get back the payment he used to buy the items he wasted on you for the past few months—

"Sheon?"

You called to him. Snapping out of his thoughts when he realized he was already in the kitchen, cooking food for the both of you.

"You almost burned the eggs… Is there something wrong?"

Sheon blinked before smiling at you.

"Your brother went to see you but he was in a hurry so… He told me that you can go back. Your parents need you back to the company."

Your eyes lit up."really?"

"Really."

He went silent. Deciding that he should just give your atm card. It was stupid idea to think of him hiding your card, that will result of him being arrested and making you abandon him. He can't ruin his hardwork for making you his bank.

You blinked when you stiffly take the card from his hand. "What's this?"

"Your new card. Your… Umm.. brother wants to give it to you."

You look at him in the eyes for a second before leaning in to kiss him.

"I love you." You smiled, your eyes were brightened. As if something cleared up your mind and he noticed it.

He gave you a tight grin. "I'll put this on the plate before it actually burns."

Just like his first week on a relationship with you. His life went back smoothly. Everything went back to normal. The next three weeks, the two of you went on a date, suggested by you of course.

The both of you enjoyed the rides at carnival. He laughed when you didn't like the taste of the sweet corn of the nearby shop, telling him you preferred the street food sweet corn he brought on your first date with him. After having a snack,Sheon went to take a picture of the two of you capturing every moment he can find.

You told him that you book a private resort nearby the beach. So he drove there. Enjoying the night ride with him.

His heart fluttered when he hear you humming happily while you were scrolling on the phone, probably buying an item that he request yesterday, you ask him what color he liked on the item. Right now, the red haired doesn't care about it and tells you to keep humming the tune and forget about the item he wanted.

He just found himself, liking the sound of your voice.

The first thing he did when the both of you went inside the resort was to pop out a wine and serve you one before quickly kissing your lips. The both of you enjoyed gazing the night at cozy fireplace lit on the modern table. You cuddled with him and he held you, warming you up. As he sighed, relaxing himself.

"Sheon…."

You let yourself go on his hold before toying his hands with yours until you let it go."What's wrong?" You look down, staring through his shirt.

"I have… Been meaning to tell you this.. I don't know if it's the right time but…"

Sheon held his breath. Did you find out that he was using you?

He looked at your right hand that is tapping something from behind of your pocket before showing it to you.

A small black box was given to him.

He looked at you confused before he assessed your new gift to him. The box looked liked it could store a jewel.

His world stops when he opened it.

"I know… you went all the trouble of taking care of me when… when I was kicked out from the house but… I never felt so indebt to you after all the love you showered m-me… I-I'm not good with this kind of things… and might even call it corny so….W-would-you-like-to-spend-the-rest-of-your-time-together-with-me?" You fiddle your hand nervously as you look up to him, rushing the last sentence. Awaiting for his response, whether he will reject you or not.

Before you could call his name again. His lips had already met yours, arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you closer.

You were shocked by your boyfriend's action before returning your kiss. Slowly wrapping your arms around his neck.

He pushed tongue inside your mouth, caressing your caverns and sucking your tongue, drinking the sound of your whimpers and moans. He loves the whimpers that you make, it makes him want to keep going.

You tap him by the shoulder, signalling him to halt his actions but he continued to assault your lips until the thirst in him quenched. It was the first time he ignore your orders, but he just can't help himself.

He felt euphoric.

Sheon was grinning, widely. One of his hands went to your buttoned shirt. Slowly unclasping them, one by one.

His cheeks matches the color of his hair. His voice laced with love and affection."I'm officially yours, cerise."

For the first time, he felt genuine towards you. He felt everything was clear. He doesn't know when, where and why he didn't realize it sooner but…

He actually like you more than the money itself..

No...

He loves you that no money can replace you.

Fuck all the items, he got. You're much more valuable, the most treasured thing he wants.

He went to kiss your collarbone before softly gazing on you.

For the first time, your relationship with him. Kaiser uttered the words that are genuine and meaningful from the bottom of his heart.

"…I love you."

This might be a mistake in your part.

He will never let you go now.

========================

Part 2?

#yandere oc #yandere x you #soft yandere #yandere boy #yandere #yandere lover #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #clingy yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere x y/n #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere boy x reader #yandere male x reader #bro didn't get to see his yandere side #yandere imagines

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stayconnecteed · 4 months

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❪⠀🪐.⠀no control⠀𓏔⠀bangchan⠀❫

bangchan is the leader of stray kids. their fundamental part, in charge of the base of their music, the big brother of the bahng's. he has the weight of the world over his shoulders, and he learned to enjoy the feeling. he loves being needed... does he? ⠀★⠀5.2k words

content: smut,, sub chris / dom reader (slightly), soft vanilla sex, praise, biting / hickeys, mentions of chocking, begging, praises. plot,, miscommunication, insecurities, chris learns how to lose control, he's whipped for reader. credits,, mdni banner by @cafekitsune. warnings,, if any under 18 acc interacts with this fic i'll block them. note,, this is my first smut work, please be kind 😭

Bangchan is the leader of Stray Kids. Their fundamental part, the one that looks out for his members and protects them. He is also the producer, in charge of the base of their music, he has the last word in everything related to it, to the group, to their career. The big brother of the Bahng's, with his little siblings in the aussie continent, but still aware of what happens to his family, only a call away from them. He has the weight of the world over his shoulders, and he learned to enjoy the feeling, that warm satisfaction on his chest every time someone came to him, earning his advice, longing for his protection. He loves being needed. That's why he parted from your lips that evening he was going to spend the night at your place for the first time in your relationship, a cute frown on his face, confusion written all over his glassy eyes, when you whispered “Let me make you feel good”.

He became rigid under your body, so you mirrored his actions, leaving his lap, afraid that it was too soon, that you had just fucked up your relationship, that now he was going to make fun of you. But instead you stared at each other, you with remorseful eyes, him biting his lips with nervousness. That was his line, right? That’s what he usually said to those few girls he had been with, he was supposed to be the one whispering it in your ear, making you squirm, not wanting you to make him feel good. As well as in other parts of his life, he had always been the dominant one in the relationship ーand on the bed. Always. Just the thought of letting you take control scared him a bit. So he closed his eyes, sighing, wishing his heart stopped beating so fast, and simply leaned back on the couch, pushing you slightly so that your head was resting on his chest. That was what he was used to, that felt correct.

You tried to swallow the knot in your throat, to unravel it, to get rid of it, and of the unpleasant feeling of panic you felt in your chest, breathing as fast as you could without your boyfriend noticing, and letting him caress your hair, your brow furrowed in concentration to not let the situation get to you, not paying attention to the sounds of the television, which had become background noise. You tried, as much as you could, not to act very weird about it. He probably just needed space, figure things out, maybe he wasn’t ready for that stage of your relationship, he could even think you were clingy if you didn’t stop. So once the movie was over and Chris moved you to stand up, you ended up moving in sync, picking up the used plates over the table, your nervous smile betraying you, and cleaned them up together, but in silence. It wasn't the first time you'd fallen asleep in his company ーyou'd once closed your eyes in Chris's studio, surrounded by his warmth and scent, tucked into his hoodie, and woken up in his car, on your way homeー but it certainly was the first time you'd spent the night together in the same bed. At least, that was how he had phrased it the week before, hinting that something would finally take place between you two.

But he chose to pretend nothing had happened at all, cuddling you in your own bed with his tender hands sliding down your waist, but over the old shirt you wore, as if the mere touch of your soft skin against his could cause him dangerous burns. The both of you were stiff, your body nested against his, his strong arm protectively around you… ーsee? He couldn’t help it. It was in his nature to act that wayー but even if the topic was there, none of you addressed it. Eventually you fell asleep, your body relaxing against his, features softening, and it's then when he realised how tense you had been. He could have assumed it had been because you were stressed that his first night in your apartment had left a bad impression on him, but deep down he knew it was because of how he had reacted to your words. And it killed him to realise that you had been upset because of him.

But he was truly confused. By you, by your smile, and your lips, and your voice, and your body. He was obsessed, too, yet that was nothing new. It was inevitable for the two of you to be absolutely unable to keep your hands to yourselves since you had started dating. Until that awful moment, you had made out ーquite a lot, to be honest. He still could feel you on his lap, your plush thighs caging him to the couch, the soft flesh of your hips velvety under his touch, and your hands tugging expertly the back of his hair. He loved how you tasted, your bright eyes when you looked at him from above, the way your swollen lips curved with satisfaction when you parted slightly to catch a breath. Lately that month you had let him go down on you for the first time, your skin still covered in fading hickeys, your whimpers engraved with fire in his mind, or even begged him to taste him, your hands pinning him to the wall as his sweats fell to the floor, and you had felt so so good around him… But never sex. And he craved it. You craved it. How could neither of you not crave it when you had each other as their partner?

Damn, now that he thought about it, of course you were used to being the one in control in bed. The signs had been there all along and he had failed to see them. He muffled a groan, laying on his back, and stared at the ceiling, although he couldn’t see anything, the room too dark. It was probably over midnight, a time of the day he was very used to watch on the clock of his phone, and his clothes were making him uncomfortable, the fabric of the shirt preventing him from the mobility he was used to, his mind keeping going back to your sleeping figure beside him. He could only think about the disappointed face you had made when he had turned away, the way you had flinched slightly when he had put his hand on your shoulder to gently hug you against him when he had decided to ignore what had happened. The sudden urge to make it better, to do as you said, to… be taken care of? Why was he… was he really giving it a thought? Could he really be the pillow princess he had made of all his past hook ups? Just laying there and letting you do all the job?

He trusted you, he knew he wouldn't regret it if that did happen, but… it wasn't in him to do nothing. He knew he was going to feel useless. He was a people pleaser, after all, and much more with his loved ones. With you… He had had those dreams, waking up in the middle of the night, early in the morning, about him doing sinful things to you. He had already felt horrible ーthinking about you that way without your permissionー but you were his girlfriend, and he craved those situations. What he hadn’t figured out was if he should, huh, let you know. Well, he should have, that was for sure. But he hadn’t, and now he was afraid. Afraid of scaring you away, he supposed, especially because in his dreams he let his imagination run wild, and his subconscious was quite possessive. He wondered about whom now, given the circumstances, him over you… or you over him?

He cleared his throat, trying to delete those new fantasies of his mind, and closed his eyes, frowning until he started to lose consciousness, clearly disturbed about the way you had invaded his thoughts. Not only because he needed to rest enough before the next day, but also because he felt he owed you something ーan apology, maybe? Make up for the trouble? He couldn’t keep thinking about it, he didn’t want to, his insecurities creating a void on his chest, but with your soft breathing lulling him, and his eyelids suddenly feeling so heavy, he fell asleep in no time.

When you opened your eyes the following morning, Chris was nowhere to be seen. You sighed, stretching your back while occupying the whole bed, and contemplated the tempting idea of sheltering yourself back between the sheets, which seemed very appealing. At least until you heard a noise coming from the kitchen. A strong sound, and then some swear words. You perked, raising your head from the comfort of your pillow, and stood up, the shirt you had stolen from your boyfriend not so long ago barely hiding your panties, your thighs in full view, as you knew he liked them. Your steps were silent and swift, barefoot over the wooden floor of the corridor, and you tried to muffle a chuckle when you saw Chris in front of the stoves, trying to clean a huge stain of burnt dough on the marble, a cute pout on his puffy lips and quick soapy movements working to get it done before you woke up. You sneaked up on him, your hands wrapping around his torso as you placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder blades, smiling.

"What are you up to?" you whispered, Chris tensing under your arms. You unconsciously pulled away, acting as if nothing had happened until your boyfriend curved his lips in apology and took your hands to return them to where they had been, stroking your skin in soft caresses.

"I was such an asshole yesterday," he explained to you, leaning against your touch with a wearily sigh and enjoying your warmth. "I'm sorry."

You shook your head, nuzzling into the hollow of his neck, your chest pressed against his back, and murmured a few words of reassurance, letting him know that nothing was wrong. It had felt awful, but having time to cool down you had been able to put yourself in his shoes, trying to understand why he had reacted that way, and you had an idea of what the cause had been. He turned around in your arms, his gaze still slightly clouded by sleep, eyes narrowed, his chaotic curls falling over his forehead and the pout on his lips, unleashing the need in you to lean and kiss it away. You held back, though.

“What are you up to?” you repeated.

“I wanted to make breakfast” he told you, securing your arms around his waist, his own hands cupping your cheeks, and resting his forehead on yours, your heights being similar. “You know, making some pancakes. I had juice already prepared! But I fucked up the dough.”

You giggled, your chest vibrating against his, and it made him laugh too. You could see the curve of his lips creating those dimples you loved so much even if you had your eyes closed. You had seen him smile so many times you could describe with precision the way his mouth arched or how his eyebrows slightly raised, his saint eyes turned into cute happy crescent monos. You kindly kissed his cheek, parting a little bit from his embrace, and interlocking your gazes.

“What should we do, then?”

“I have an idea” he whispered, as if it was the biggest secret, some confidential information that shouldn't be shared. You snickered at his antics, your heart warming due to his goofy nature, and leaned over to hear it, “we should go to that café you really like and try those new weird donuts”.

“Oh my god, yes!” you exclaimed, patting his back in soft motions with excitement, “We should totally do that!”

“Go get changed while I finish cleaning this, babygirl” he pointed, giving your butt a tight squeeze, playfully. “I'll get some random pants on my backpack and join you in a sec”.

You nodded, leaving a sweet peck on his lips, and ran to your bedroom, grabbing the first combination of clean clothes you found and hiding in the bathroom to do a tiny part of your usual skincare routine before going out with your boyfriend. You smiled at your reflection, allowing you to feel that hope that everything that had happened had been a weak moment, nothing to be too worried about, and it all had gone back to normal. You heard Chris rummaging through your kitchen, cleaning the stoves and the table, washing his hands, maybe even walking around the place, before he peeked into the bathroom.

He smirked at you through the mirror, settling himself behind you, sliding his hands over your soft tummy and waiting while you finished removing the cleanser, leaning his chest against you. You couldn't help but chuckle, dainty tears of water slipping down your face, when he started to kiss your neck, liking the drops that were falling from your cheeks and placing open mouthed kisses all over the sensitive skin of your throat. He didn't stop as you grabbed the towel, drying your wet face, and you tried to muffle a whimper when he bit a specific point over your pulse, your body starting to react to his lips, heating up. But you couldn't repeat your last mistake.

“We have to talk about last night” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, as if you were praying for him not to have heard it so you wouldn't have to go through that needed conversation. He sighed, trying not to close his eyes, not to hide from you, not to be the coward of a boyfriend you had, and simply nodded, unable to do anything more. “Do you want to start?”

He refused, the look of pleading in his face making you melt in redemption and let him be, and started talking: “I'd like to start this apologising for my behaviour yesterday” you said, the hurt of your eyes making him grimace, “I assumed we were in the same page and I should have checked with you before saying anything”.

“It's not your fault, baby” he murmured, savouring every word while letting it roll out of his mouth, thinking that explaining to you his reasonings he could understand himself a little bit better, “we should have talked about it before doing anything, it's true, but it's not your responsibility”.

“It's just that I'm so used to being like that with my partners that I didn't even ask you if you were okay with it” you complained, a little pout forming in your lips.

“I… I get you” he paused, unsure of what to say next. He really did get you, he too was used to a specific role in the bedroom, but he wasn't as confident as you while saying it. “I guess we made a mistake, right? Before all the sexual intercourses we should… we should have talked about it”.

“Sexual intercourses?” you asked, the ghost of a smile in your face, surprised by his choice of words. If he was already rambling, your suspicions were confirmed. You rested your head on the crook of his neck, looking at his reflection, his eyes staring back at you. “Channie, tell me about what you want, then”.

“I want…” he started, his voice cracking a bit in the middle of the sentence. He lowered his head, looking down, almost as if he thought that by concentrating hard enough he might disappear, and cleared his throat. His heart was racing, you could feel it between your shoulder blades, and his mouth was dry. He had to say it, he knew you wouldn't judge him, but it was too hard for him. Maybe, if he started with something simple.... "I want to be the one to make you feel good."

“Yeah?” you hummed, avoiding the smile that threatened to show in your lips, glad that he was finally giving in, “What else?”

You saw him swallow with difficulty, peeling his hands off your belly, where he had been holding the shirt too tightly, and rested them on the ceramic sink, his knuckles still white, caging you in his arms. He seemed to be searching at full speed for what answer would be the right one, what would get him off the hook, what words you would like to hear. You were at a dead end. Chris was a person who needed physical contact, and in your relationship that had meant little brushes of his lips on your forehead, his hand on your thigh as you drove, and his arm around your shoulders or your waist in any crowd. He needed to be in contact with your skin all the time, and if that option was denied him, the stress began. The same stress he was feeling at that very moment because he knew that he could not continue to touch you comfortably until you talked about your sexual intercourses.

“I want to make you feel good” he repeated, licking his lips but still avoiding your gaze on the mirror, “but not the way I've done it so far”. “Done it with me?” you asked, the calm and lull tone of your voice caressing his ears, your mouth moving against his neck as you turned between his arms to face him.

“No… No, with the other girls” he explained, whining slightly, resting his forehead against yours for some comfort. “With… With you it was always different”.

“How come, baby?” you whispered, sliding your hands up his chest until you cupped his cheeks and he leaned to your touch. You saw him look away, shame blushing his ears.

“I thought I…” he seemed on edge, like he was pushing himself to blurt out his mind, and in a way he was. The caresses you were leaving on his skin raised shivers, and you heard him admit, quietly: “You always had the control”.

“Do you want it? To be that way?”

He grimaced, frowning, and parted enough to lock his gaze with yours, his bright dark irises shining like the most precious gold found in the middle of the raw soil, melted chocolate bar in your favourite mug. It looked like he was trying to share all his thoughts with you just by letting you read his mind, and you smiled warmly, encouraging him to continue.

“I don’t know” he breathed, his face mere inches away from yours, and as light as his freckles were, you could swear you were able to count them.

“Do you want to try?” you told him, your hand finding its place in the chaotic mess of curls his hair was. “You tell me to stop, and we stop, yeah?”

He moved forward, placing a greedy kiss on your still parted lips, and you let out a gasp, surprised by his boldness. You tugged lightly on his hair, which was tangled in your hand, making him pull back and he let out a soft sound, itching to have you as close as possible.

“I need words, baby boy” you murmured, your mouth moving against his, and you watched as he fought with himself just to answer, still unsure of how he felt. The day before having you between his arms had felt correct, he loved being able to hold you. Now, the pit of his stomach burned, and he had left to discern if it was the most terrible fear, or just nervousness and excitement. He did want what you had offered, but he didn't know what it was going to be like.

“I… I haven’t done that” he decided to say, trying to explain himself. “Huh, surrender. I thought… The only thing I’ve known was to act like I knew everything, y’know? It was the only thing… And what people expect me to be, that persona everyone seems to know, what I’m supposed to be like.”

“Have you ever had to do something you didn’t want to in a sexual intercourse, baby?” you asked, your little joke floating through your sentence, but your tone steady as steel, expecting an answer.

Chris peeled from you, your bodies suddenly freezing in the absence of each other's warmth, and ran his hands through his hair, frowning as he tried to find the words, “Is not that, just… I want to make you feel good, it’s my… my purpose” he blurted, puppy eyes making you melt inside. “It’s hot” he added.

You let out a chuckle, "It's hot?"

“It’s hot” he repeated, as if that was the only truth that mattered.

“You’re a giver, Channie” you slurred, taking small steps towards him, as if he was a caged animal, “and that’s not a bad thing. In sex, you don’t need to label everything ーif something, I encourage you to try a lot of things to decide what you like or don’t like at all. You don’t need to tell me if you are a dom or a sub, just what are your dos and don’ts”

“Can we keep it simple?” he asked, his hands hovering hesitantly over your hips, still neither of you touching the other. “The first time? Some… Something soft?”

You took his face between your hands, cradling it in gentle motions, and nodded, breathing quick words of affirmation against his lips before kissing them, faint pecks, his own hands finally settling in your hips, the old shirt caressing your skin as he pulled it up, eager to touch you, with no fabric between. He sighed into the kiss, a muffled whine that talked about all the unbearable neediness he used to suppress, always looking for his partners’ pleasure and ignoring his own, and letting you decide the rhythm. Your favourite part of making out with him had always been how responsive he was, all the sounds he fought not to let out, being the vocal of his kpop group making so much sense. He was ready for you whenever you asked for him, and it was impossible for you to resist it. You were two fierce perfectionists longing to worship each other, his plump lips leaving you breathless with every single caress against yours, already swollen and wet, and craving.

“Can I… please, can I taste you?” he mumbled, you pressing open-mouthed kisses to the flesh of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing under your tongue, leaving reddish marks along its trail, already becoming addicted to the way his squirming body reacted to your ministrations.

“You sure?” you whispered, your hands wandering down his torso, his muscles flinching under your touch, until you reached the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, him taking the hint and stripping it off. He just nodded, his breath catching in his throat as you ran your fingers along his lower abs, and you giggled, still pecking his neck, some of your kisses even trailing down his chest. “You look like you are about to collapse”

“I might” he breathed, his voice barely a whisper, his heart pounding, you feeling every beat against your lips.

“Yeah?” you answered, your voice as sweet as honey, standing in front of him and running your fingers down his neck, toying with the idea of closing them around his throat, vaguely choking him, even if he had asked for a nice vanilla moment. You felt his hips jutting forward, his parted lips reacting to your touch, and then he lowered his gaze, too flustered by his actions. “Follow me, baby”.

You hand guide him, your fingers intertwined with his, your lips curving at his clumsy footsteps. You paused at the end of the bed, looking sideways at Chris, at his flushed chest, feeling the skin of his hand burning under your touch, and turned around to face him. The sweet kiss you left on his cheek made him shudder, and he let out a broken sound from the bottom of his throat when you grazed your teeth over his neck. When you came back to his plush lips, giving them the attention they deserved, and lightly bit the lower one, he chased yours when you pulled away. You giggled, climbing onto the bed, and sat with your back against the headboard, tilting your head at his pout.

“Come here, Channie” you purred, patting the unravelled sheets between your legs. They still retained the warmth that had surrounded you when you had awakened, but now you didn't need them, the heat radiating from your bodies was enough. “Make me feel good”.

He let out a groan, low and needy, and he hurried to position himself where your hand was still, grabbing your bare legs to pull you closer to him, tentatively nuzzling your inner thigh, too shy to take the initiative but aching to be able to drown himself in you. He tried to hold back, biting his lips while he looked at you, waiting for your guidance, and when you buried your hand in his curls he took it as the permission he needed to keep pressing wet kisses to your skin. Once he slided your panties off of you, your dripping cunt fully at his sight, he licked slowly your folds, humming happily, making you sigh with closed eyes and your head thrown back. He peeked and saw your blissed features, muffling a whine in your pussy, flattening his tongue and trailing it over your clit, swirling around it with the only aim of pleasure you, rutting his hips rhythmically against the mattress. He started to suck on it, intoxicated in your scent, and then parted to focus on your entrance, pushing his tongue further inside, his mind clouded, feeling your clit touching his nose with every movement.

You moaned at a particularly good motion, rolling your hips against his mouth, and woke up from your hazy doze, pausing his attention with a tug of his locks, earning a sharp breath and a shaky mewl, the pooling heat in his abdomen burning. “You didn’t cum” he whined, his puppy eyes interlocking with your blurred gaze, catching his breath, as if it was painful for him even to think about it.

“You’ve been grinding against the bed for a while, baby” you murmured, caressing his slightly sweated skin, and running your index finger until it reached his chin, raising his head. “You've been so good to me…”

“M-mhm” he mumbled, his shiny eyes looking at you with pure adoration, waiting for you to continue.

You ducked your head until your lips touched his flushed ears, “What do you think about…” your voice barely a whisper, the pause making him whimper, “you inside of me?”.

The sound he let out was a wanton, loud moan, his head falling forward, avoiding looking at the bulge in his shorts, half hidden by the sheets, so worked up the only thing he could think about was you, and your words, your praise, your taste, your skin, everything about made him lose his mind in a way he hadn’t felt in forever. You cupped his cheek, pressing your lips against his, reaching blindly with your other hand to the first drawer of your bedside table, to grab a condom, the noise of the plastic bringing him back to reality.

He tried to take it from your hand with quivering fingers, pleading eyes when you pulled them away, sighing when you soothed his urge with another kiss, running the tip of your finger along the elastic waistband, "First we need to take off your pants, Channie, let me do all the work here."

He rose eagerly from the bed, discarding all the clothes that prevented you from seeing him completely naked, and then returned to take his place, so quickly that you almost missed how furiously red his shaft looked. A desperate groan rumbled in his chest when you sneaked your hand between your bodies, grabbing him with soft touch and ignoring his pleads to stroke him a little, only to slide the condom along his hardness. Chris hissed when you withdrew your hand, rolling his hips in response, his foggy eyes begging you to say something, do something, whatever, just…

“Can I… pleasepleaseplease, let… let me, can I put it in?” he stuttered, his parted mouth leaving a trail of wet kisses and drool all over your collarbone.

Your breath had caught in your throat, the ache between your legs taking all your control, and you could only nod, a shaky sigh leaving your lips, blowing warm air against your boyfriend's hair, slightly moving his shorter curls, while he sank himself into you. The shameless cry he released mirrored your melodic whimper, the intimacy of the moment making you close your eyes, throwing your arms around his shoulders and hugging him against you, his sweaty forehead against the shirt you were still wearing, both of you paralyzed, you adjusting to his size, him concentrating on how you felt around him ーbut not enough to cum too soon.

“You can move, babyboy” you slurred, your voice completely broken, your nails pressing against his hair and the muscles of his back, and he squeaked, his own fingers digging into your flesh as you talked. “A-ah, fuck. Feels amazing, Channie”.

He couldn’t leave your neck, choked sobs as he kissed and sucked every single spot, his hips twitching when you clenched around him, feeling totally full and content. The first thrust was slow and unsteady, dragging his shaft all along your walls, tearing cracked whimpers from the both of you, and then he snapped his hips back with all the strength of his body, quiet whines filling the room, starting a chaotic race.

“Is it… hah, is it okay?” he blurted out, muffled by your skin, “Am I doing good?”

“So… soー” you gasped, throwing your head back, at his swift motions, “so good. My good boy”

He sucked in a sharp breath, his dick twitching wildly, and he tried to pause, but you were already so so close, the messy, wet sounds his thrusts teared from your pussy a warning of it. You wrapped your marked thighs around his hips, helping him keep the rhythm, Chris keening at the sweet nothings you were whispering in his ear, the short and breathy ah ah ah's his mouth was releasing into the crook of your neck making you squirm. Your stomach flipped, the warm inside of you becoming a wildfire, so intense you didn’t know anymore if it was your arousal or his cum, but then you were the one releasing, soon your moans combining with his broken cries in the room.

“You made me feel the best, Channie '' you murmured, caressing his curls, while he flashe a sleepy smile.

#☆ㅤ🪐 writings!!#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bangchan #bangchan smut #bangchan imagines #bangchan x reader #about: no control #☆ㅤchris recs!!

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weebsinstash · 10 months

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consider; multiverse shenanigans with a spider!reader where they make some offhand comment about how their heat/rut is coming up soon and they'll need some volunteers to cover patrols while they're down and half the society is like 'o damn that sucks, yeah i can swing a tuesday' and the other half is like 'your WHAT is coming up???'

and it turns out that a decent chunk of the multiverse has no idea what a/b/o orientations even are and it somehow just got totally lost in translation until that very second that this was a thing. what do you mean omega???? what the fuck do you mean you just thought i was a really boring smelling beta?????????? y'all motherfuckers are SNIFFING PEOPLE?!?!?!?!

now consider a miguel that is not from an a/b/o verse hearing about this and doing a little research to figure out exactly what a heat/rut is and just getting sucked down a rabbit hole and going feral for the idea that you're going to be in a highly suggestible and vulnerable state for nearly a WEEK and he's going to miss it!!! he didn't get invited!!!! what the fuck!!! the man spends a solid 48 hrs immersed in really bad multiversal porn and comes out the other end hungover and weeping that he nearly missed out on this

so he takes it upon himself to do a little rearranging, some scheduling, some scheming, and lo and behold you find yourself stuck in this crappy half-built nest in nueva york with miguel, who has no real idea how he's supposed to actually perform for you while ur like this and is just making it up as he goes- and totally ignoring the cultural and consent issues he's digging up doing this bc its biology right? so its fine? people in ur universe do this all the time, he has no idea why ur complaining just let him help u out jeez-

Some rando Spiderperson intending to be transphobic: --and they want us to accept everyone as whatever they say they wanna be now, as if men can get pregnant!

Reader, without skipping a beat: what the actual fuck are you talking about, my father carried me and my siblings for 6 months

Miguel is just starting to know you and is actively trying to learn more about you and one day you just, I dunno, you two do a mission together and he gives you praise and you just look at him with a big smile 😊 and your ass straight up PURRS for a few moments and he's just like 🥺❤️ gatito... ❤️

The man sees you talking to Jess and Peter B one day and O'Hara is watching from a distance because he's, awkward and not sure how to approach you, and suddenly his super hearing can pick up someone in the room talking idly about you, or even explaining ABO stuff to another person. "Yeah, see em over there, holding Peter Bs kid? Those Omega always have nurturing instincts. It's cause they're wired to spit out tons of babies. They're the breeders. They even have natutal pheromones to calm down their mates and friends and children" and suddenly Miguel's ears are burning "youre tellin me my darling might wants lots of little babies running around? Fantastic."

Mexican/Irish and also Catholic Miguel who wants one of those STUPID HUGE families where people have at least 6 kids and it's like "oh a typical Omega pregnancy usually has at least two or three babies in one go and theyre shorter than normal human pregnancies huh? Interesting :)"

Some members of the Spider Society are like "why is Miguel kind of lowkey being a dick to me all the time now" oh well its very simple you see, Miguel read your file and found out you're an Alpha and you share this weird connection and also natural biological attraction to HIS lil honeybee and He Hates You Now. Fuck off out his house and don't let him see you talking to his baby or else

He gets really close to you one day, I mean like physically, or hey maybe emotionally too, and he's hugging you and he gets a whiff of your scent and it's something he can't even describe, something that has a carnal biological effect on his where he just wants to keep holding you and hearing your voice like a drug, like it's oxytocin on crack, and suddenly in true scientist fashion he's researching you, your universe, its history, its medicine, its culture.

Can't help but imagine a Miguel who goes full yandere and gives no fucks about doing what he wants for darling and splices his DNA with Alpha DNA so he can officially claim you as a mate, scenting, knotting, and everything. Lyla gives you instructions to meet him in a specific place and it turns out he's been experimenting on himself and he's deep in a rut and suddenly your knees are getting pushed into your chest and you're getting passionately knotted and filled up by a grunting growling purring Miguel who's leaving love bites and kisses all over your skin, just, his size alone would make him hard to get away from, you don't even need to add Alpha instincts and being able to track your pheromones on top of that 😳

Miguel "just let me 'help you as a friend'" O'Hara who tracked when your next heat was going to kick in and maybe even drugged you so it comes at a specific time and he makes it where the two of you are together or even trapped or something when it happens and, here he is, "oh just let me help you, isn't it hurting" but like. We all know it's because he wants to. Like could you even imagine he's, you know, using his fingers and he goes to remove his pants or free himself or whatever and you're just like "no I'll get pregnant" and he just kind of has a Microsoft error window in his brain because it's like. Oh you'll get almost DEFINITELY pregnant? Guaranteed? You're trying to tell the man you dont want to and instead at least internally he's like "promise? 👉👈"

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere stuff #sinprompts #miguel o'hara x reader

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the-boy-meets-evil · 5 months

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take my hands (we can fall together) | lee chan | master list

summary: chan's known you for years and he knows you're friends, but you've always felt just a little bit out of reach. like you see him as someone your brother brought into the friend group when you were kids. he's fine with that. still, it's hard to watch you settle for relationships where you're never the priority. when the weather starts cooling off, chan figures your favorite season is the time to show you that you deserve better. even if it's not him. pairing: brother's best friend!chan x f.reader genre: friends to ??, pining, slow burn | fluff, some angst, smut rating: explicit (not til part 3) warnings: explicit smut, unhealthy relationships (background character), mentions of food, mentions of drinking, see parts for more detailed warnings word count: ~23.5k

note: this kinda got away from me, but this is a 3 part fic of @svthub's fall collab (read the rest of the amazing fics here). so i'm putting together a masterlist. thanks as always to my bby indi @classicscreations for an amazing banner! see below the cut for a teaser 💕 part one 6.6k part two 7.7k part three 9.2k status: complete

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! (comment, send an ask, send a DM)

Fall has never been Chan’s favorite season. The weather cools down, but it’s in this weird in-between. One day, it’s cold enough for heavy jackets, and the next it’s almost warm enough to wear shorts. It starts to get dark too early as the days get shorter, which makes it feel like there’s just less time in the day. Or, even worse, there are days when Chan leaves the apartment in the dark and returns in the dark. Everything feels like it’s dying with the leaves falling. It seems like it should be a season of thankfulness and friends and holidays, but it just ends up feeling like an ending in a bad way. He’s not cynical, he’s just not really sure he likes this time of year.

“I wish I had someone to do fall things with me,” you announce to nobody in particular.

Okay, well maybe Chan needs to rethink this whole opinion on the season. Because here’s the other thing, he’s always been drawn to you. Sure, you’re his friend. It’s just, he’s always been closer to your brother, Jay. Always a little envious, too. You and Jay are friends as much as siblings, despite you being two years older. So much so that your friend group is somewhat merged. Chan knows that Jay has friends you don’t hang around and that the same goes for you. It’s still nice, though. Seeing the two you, he understands what it means to love family and also like them.

Yet in all those years of friendship, Chan can still remember the moment when he started seeing you differently. You’d called Jay late one night, no text or anything, and Jay picked up right away because it was so unlike you. It was your first real breakup, a guy you met and started dating in college, the only time you and Jay had been really separated. Even if the separation was only a two hour drive. You were so devastated that Jay switched to a video call and convinced you to come home for the weekend. All Chan can remember is how much he wanted to protect you from ever feeling that way again. He knew you didn’t deserve the way that guy made you feel. Then, the new school year came around, and he and Jay were on campus with you. The draw has only gotten stronger since then.

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indigo-o · 9 months

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The Pet clown

Pt 2

I think we know who it's abt lmao

Nikolai gogol x reader PLATONIC

And some fyodor

Reader is a teenager

Tw impatient stuff depression, fyodor drugging, sleep deprivation, those annoying blankets they give at mental hospital even tho it's like -1 degrees Celsius if you know you know, talk of death, yandere fyodor, Manipulation from fyodor, Nikolai gogol, I think that's it so yeah

Angst/fluff

I wish you were here, this room is empty. White walls, heavy doors, thin white blankets, and chained blury windows.

This thin gown can't keep me warm. I know him. He just wants what's best for me. I guess that even means putting me in this room. This room to keep me safe.

Safe from me. No possibility of me hurting. I'm to sick leave this bed and to tired to talk. He says I'm helping him.

Im helping him cleanse the world of evil. So I guess if my pain will save the world I'll stay in this room.

Everybody else deserves to be happy and well so I'll hurt for them. If one death would save the world I'd die.

My body's purple now.

I hear a click at the heavy door. To my surprise it wasn't a anemic rat, it was his pet clown.

"QUIZZZZZ TIMEEEEEE! WHY AM I HERE INSTEAD OF DOS-KUN?! I THINK I HEARD YOU SAY CAUSE HES HAVING FUN! CORRECT!".

I looked at him. My eyes were heavy. But he did bring some color to the room. I smiled at him.

I opened my mouth to talk but I couldn't.

"Oh dove you still can't talk! I forgot! Dos-kun told me to take you outside to have some fun.".

He lied, either were not going to have fun or fyodor didn't tell him anything. Either way I was going to have to walk. I knew I couldn't but I was going to try anyway.

Fyodor knew If I could walk I'd escape from him. So he kept me physically, emotionally and mentally sick. I would have no choice to stay.

As soon as I got to my legs I collapsed, but Nikolai caught me.

"Silly me I forgot you can't walk guess I'll carry you.".

He picked me up as if I were a little kid.

"D-dont dr-rop.". I manged to get out.

"Oh dove I may be crazy but not only do we need you, Dos-kun would kill me, but I want to protect you from harm. Not like you can protect yourself in this state.".

I looked at him. Then laying on him. We proceeded to go through his cape.

We were in what seemed to be his house/apartment.

He went to put me down on his couch but he's so warm.

"Wait w-warm.".

He looked down at me.

"I guess we can go out later.". He picked me back up and took me to his bed. Laying me down cuddled with blankets, pillows and now a pet clown. I shut my eyes and finally went to sleep.

I woke up to Nikolai looking down at me.

"Am I a good pillow?". I realized how I was very much on him.

I nodded my head.

"You want to go outside for a bit dove?". He was using a soft tone.

He wasn't ever like this

Maybe because I'm a teenager but I don't know.

He got up "You slept threw the whole night, but the good thing is we have a whole day today and tomorrow, you know why?".

He leaned in close "I lied Dos-kun is away and he doesn't believe in your freedom so I'm here to show him that you're a good kid who won't run away. You see Dos-kun takes away your warmth so you can't sleep making you so tired that's why you slept for so long he wants you to be weak, weak without freedom. I'm here to give you freedom. To fly like a dove.".

He went to his closet and pulled out some clothes.

"Here's so clothes to wear so we're not caught. That sounds weird. I my dear am a very wanted person so I must look different and you can't really walk let alone the sun should hurt you eyes so if I were to be caught you wouldn't leave be caught up in it.".

What ever he said I guess.

I changed and so did he and he look pretty different

He picked me up and took me to wheel chair that he some how got, but I shouldn't question it.

He placed me in the chair and we Leigt looked like sibling going out for fun.

"F-flowers please.". I looked to him.

"You want flowers we will get flowers.".

We went to florist.

"Hi! What flowers are yall looking for!". She sounded very happy.

"What do you want dear?". Nikolai asked

While I could barely see I knew exactly what I want.

"R-rose and Lillys.".

"Of course dear I'll get right to that!".

The rest of day was amazing

I got flowers, yummy pastries and other stuff.

Who knew a deranged clown could be so kind. But at last we came back to his apartment/house.

He made dinner for us and helped me get to the bed. He tucked me in.

"Good night dove.".

I woke up

Back in the room

The room with white walls, a heavy door, thin blanket and blury chains windows. But now there wad a desk but with roses and lily's on top of it.

I heard the door click. An anemic rat with his pet clown walked in.

"You've proven yourself for now, you may keep your roses and lily's. Nikolai may visit you now and then. One thing. You may not regain full energy but.".

He stopped his words and Nikolais smile grew.

"YOU CAN HAVE A NICER BLANKET AND I CAN READ BED TIME STORYS TO YOU ONCE A WEEK!".

He ran over to with a puppy dog smile.

"Don't make regret this.". The anemic rat walked away throwing the key at the pet clown.

That was alot longer than I expected but I hope yall liked it!♡♡

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #fyodor x reader #bsd x you #fluff #nikolai gogol x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd nikolai #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai gogol #angst #yandere #Yandere!fyodor #yandere x reader

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kimbap-r0ll · 11 months

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Oh I also have another idea. What about like reader is taking care of baby brother or just kid little brother with an s/o, you can either do mistaken for there kid or How it makes them think of having kids with One another. I’m not sure who to pick for this um. Illumi , feitan, kurapika? Chrollo ? Sorry I had the idea just not people 💜 you can choose

Hi, thank you for the ask! I always love your ideas btw! I'll stick to the characters you listed for the ask

Illumi, Feitan, Kurapika, Chrollo with a reader who takes care of their younger brother

Illumi

He definitely thinks you might be too nice to your younger brother but that's only because the way Illumi was brought up was very different. However, he does see that you care for your sibling a lot

Like you said, he would definitely think about having kids but he was probably thinking of that even before seeing you with your younger brother. Illumi's the type of person to be set on marrying the person he dates. He also definitely wants to keep the Zoldyck bloodline going, but seeing you so kind just did something to his heart that made that desire grow a bit more

He won't say it to you outright, but he will definitely ask more questions about how you take care of your younger sibling and things like you becoming a parent.

Illumi might want to help you take care of your brother but you might want to keep your sibling away from him haha. Illumi's more like his parents, and that means he probably thinks electricity training should be part of a daily routine :/

Overall he's sort of a family guy and definitely has moments where he daydreams about having kids. He won't tell you explicitly, but you can catch him staring at you while you take care of your younger sibling a lot

Feitan

He never thought about settling down mainly because of the troupe and how he has no confidence in himself as a responsible adult. However, seeing you with children made him his heart clench up a bit. It was so wholesome, something he's probably not that used to from his background

He'll never mention children with you, and he made it clear from the beginning of the relationship that he won't settle down. But that might change through some persuasion from you if you want

I feel like he wouldn't step close to your younger sibling because he thinks children are weird (though he likely has a soft spot for them) and because he thinks he'll end up hurting the kid instead.

Feitan has sort of like a bittersweet feeling, like a lost dream from his childhood in Meteor City, when seeing how caring you are. He feels like he's unworthy of you because of how much pain he's caused by his hands while for you it's like you're healing people. Of course, he'll never tell you this either

Feitan might bring up children once more when you two stop by at Meteor City, though he'll quickly say that he doesn't want children. If you look at his expression it won't be easy to tell if he's lying or not, but know that a part of him probably wants to have a family different from the troupe. Plus, the troupe would be overjoyed if they found out Feitan was a dad haha

Kurapika

He's never felt like he had time to think about children or settling down because of the revenge plot he's stuck in. Seeing you with children reminds him of a time long forgotten back in Lukso Province. There was a time he would help take care of the younger Kurtas and when he thought about what it would be like to have children, but now he tries to shake those thoughts out of his head

Some nights he might find himself on the verge of tears because of how much he misses the warmth of a family. He knows that he could give up on finding the last of the scarlet eyes and achieve that dream, he knows he can settle down with you and know you'll be a great parent by watching you with your younger brother. But a part of him can't do that, he's afraid

Kurapika's afraid that he might be wrong, that something horrible might happen or that he can't stop his revenge path. You might be able to convince him to slow down, but he's not confident in becoming a father after all he's been through

I feel like he would have no trouble taking care of your younger brother with you though. He's really good with children and can easily calm anyone down. Your sibling might get attached to Kurapika after a few visits and ask him to come by

Overall he's a bit similar to Feitan in not being confident in himself. He wants to go back to having something like a family but he doesn't know if he can take that path after what he's already started. He does think more about having children after being with you though and it's not a thought that disappears easily

Chrollo

He's sort of a romantic and he has a lot of daydreams. He might think about having children with you more than once, though the troupe's missions go first before anything to him on certain ocassions

When he sees the way you treat your younger brother, it reminds him of how he took care of younger kids in Meteor City. He was like an elder brother to a lot of people, and seeing how caring you are makes him feel a bit nostalgic and just makes him fall in love with you even more.

He definitely has a soft spot for children. He loves helping you out when your taking care of your younger sibling and your younger sibling will grow to like him too. Chrollo might have accidentally been called "dad" a few times haha.

Chrollo won't mention children to you a lot, but he might have asked once. When you asked him about having children, he won't say no but he also won't say he's looking to have any. However, being with you has made that question harder and harder to answer. He wants to see a future with him being a father from time to time, but with the way his troupe is set up and how there's a crazy magician looking for him at all times he doesn't know how it will work. He knows Meteor City is safe (at least in his point of view) so there is always a possibility

It's the idea of a family that makes Chrollo think about having children with you. He knows you will make a great parent just by seeing the way you treat others and especially your younger brother. He won't express it outwardly however

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh headcanons #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #hxh scenarios #illumi #illumi x reader #feitan #feitan x reader #kurapika #kurapika x reader #chrollo #chrollo x reader #ask box

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its-time-to-write · 1 year

Text

dress

this is my first time writing for anyone so… i guess we’ll see how it goes. reader and jamie are getting ready for a fancy dinner/benefit thing. it’s cute, a little swearing, no angst. allusion to sex but that’s it. i wrote this mostly for myself because there’s an appalling lack of jamie tartt fics. anyway.

dress

It is 3pm, and you have to leave in an hour and a half to make it to the annual benefit. Jamie goes every year, but this is your first. You had been talking to Keeley about it, lamenting your inability to pick something to wear, when she grabs your arm and says, “Don't worry about it babes! We can pick one out together.”

“Keeley, I’d love too, but I’m absolutely swamped with work. My forty hours are filled with clients, so my free time is basically all notes and treatment plans. That's why I’ve ghosted pretty much everyone except you and Jamie.”

“It's pretty much just Jamie at this point,” she says mischievously. “I’m not sure we would have made it to coffee if we hadn’t made these plans three weeks ago, especially because you didn’t even tap back to that pun I sent that Ted made the other day.”

You laugh. “I suppose you’re right. I am sorry, it’s just been so much work, what with taking on that new case and wrapping up that other one-“

“Like I said babes, don’t worry about it,” she says sympathetically. Her hand is still on your arm. “I totally understand what it’s like bein’ a young woman in business, yeah? We'll talk when it slows down.”

You take breath and nod. You both sit in silence for a moment, and then (because it’s Keeley and she is allergic to silence): “What if I took Jamie with me??”

You look at her, confused.

“What if I took Jamie with me to pick you out a dress? I know fashion and he knows you, and I think between the two of us we could pick out something absolutely fantabulous! What do you say? I can text him right now.”

Keeley's practically vibrating from excitement, and you know for absolute certain if you say yes, they are going to come home with something the price of your first apartment. You also know they’ll bring you coffee on the way back so really, is there any option other than yes?

——

“No, you can’t see.”

Jamie has a large, nondescript bag that he is holding very tightly and an iced coffee that he is holding less tightly. You swoop in on the coffee as Keeley chimes in with: “It’s a surprise babes. You can’t see it until the benefit.”

Jamie points to her with his bag hand. “See? She agrees.”

You squint at Keeley. “This is why I hate it when you two hang out. You get together, you make plans to torture me and sure, you bring me coffee, but god at what cost?”

Jamie and Keeley are giggling like a pair of kids as you stand, still doing your best to glare and drink your latte. They do this every time, come up with some scheme because they think it’s funny when you get “upset.” It’s like a ritual. They go shopping, spend an inordinately long time, bring you coffee to appease you, and then purposely push your buttons. They feed off of each other like a pair of weird siblings and you love it. They both can tell when you’re too tightly wound and take it upon themselves to get you to laugh. Jamie waggles the bag under your nose which makes you crack a smile as Keeley cheers. “See, I knew you loved us babe. Or at least, I knew you loved me. Jury's still out on what you think of Jamie.”

That brings a full-on laugh as Keeley dances around the kitchen.

“You staying for dinner, Keels?” you ask, although you already know the answer.

“What are you making?” she asks, Jamie behind her mouthing in unison. You suppress the urge to giggle.

“Caprese salad, pesto chicken and pasta, and Thai tea limeade. Oh, plus I made those tiny baguettes you like and Jamie, I put your tea into smoothie form. Got spinach and all that.”

“Hm,” she says, finger to her chin and head tilted. Jamie mimics her. “I suppose that I can stay. Just this once though, and not very long.”

You smile and Jamie comes around the counter to kiss you.

“I’m going to hide this,” he holds up the bag and points a finger at you “you don’t go looking for it.” He turns to Keeley, “You distract her.”

Keeley stayed her usual short amount of time, a mere six hours, giving you and Jamie a solid four hours of sleep until he has to train.

——

You shake yourself from your reverie as you reach for the dress bag. You unzip it to find something metallic with power shoulders and long sleeves, and are those little spines all over? It is long and black, yet somehow also purple and red. It is, in a word, hideous. You cannot reconcile what you see in front of you with the fact that both Keeley and Jamie picked it out, because they have never failed before, so maybe it looks better on? You sigh and begin to undress.

——

It is not better.

You go to find Jamie, looking fit in a cream hoodie and bubblegum pink suit, who takes one look and begins uncontrollably laughing.

——

“Jaim, listen. Jamie-” you’re cut off as Jamie doubles over in laughter. You’re laughing too as you catch his arms. “Babe- you can’t, you cannot leave me like this. How am I supposed to go the benefit like this? I look like a goth puffer fish!”

Jamie has collapsed to the floor in a fit of giggles, taking you with him.

“I- I’m- it-“ he gasps, “it’s so much worse- it’s so much worse than I thought it was going to be!”

You stop mid-giggle. “I’m sorry, it’s what?”

Jamie has laughed himself near tears as he holds your waist.

“Listen. Babe. You are not allowed to be mad at me. But. I may have let Keeley pick out that dress because- because,” he shushes you as you begin to protest, “I knew you would hate it, and you had nothing else to wear, and therefore you would have to wear the one that I got you.”

Your face goes through an inhuman amount of expressions as you process everything he just said, until you land on- “you bought me a dress on your own?”

“Yeah, yeah I did.” Suddenly Jamie looks incredibly shy. “Look, babe. I love your style, but the thing is, you like to play it safe.”

You frown, and Jamie holds up both his hands.

“Listen. You play your version of safe, but I think if you gave it a chance, you could expand your repertoire and we can be remembered as the hottest fuckin’ couple alive. Plus, it’s definitely way better than that horrid thing Keeley got.”

You’re distracted by his correct use of the word repertoire, and all of a sudden you don’t care about wearing the dress anymore. All you can think is that you want it off and that ridiculous, handsome pink suit should come off too, and maybe it would be better if you both were on the bed than on the floor.

Before you can develop this thought further, Jamie is getting up and pulling you with him.

“C’mon, wait till you see it,” he says, maneuvering you out of the bedroom and into a guest room of all places.

“I had to put it somewhere you wouldn’t see it,” he explains.

All the breath has left your lungs as you look at the dress on the bed.

Jamie has purchased a short, lime-green, tulle halter-neck dress with a fluffy train in the back. It's your dream dress. The one you used to look at as a high schooler, a college student; the one that you dreamt of being able to justify; the one you told Jamie about exactly once, and yet somehow, somehow it is right in front of you in your house.

Jamie’s arms snake around your waist, lips against your neck. “Do you like it?” he murmurs into your skin. You smile at that and turn to put your arms around him.

“Do I like it?” you grin, “Jamie Tartt, you wonderful, beautiful, thoughtful boy, I love it. How on earth did you remember?”

Jamie smiles back, arrogance clearly written across his expression. “You think I’m beautiful?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s what you got from this you prick? I want to know how you remembered? I mentioned this dress once and somehow, it’s sitting right in front of me because you got it for me.”

Jamie is still grinning. “Tell me how beautiful you think I am, and I’ll tell you how I remembered.”

Your face hurts from so much laughter. “Jamie, you beautiful, beautiful man. I love your hair, your eyes, your smile, your lips, your-” you are cut off by his lips on yours.

“Get changed, yeah? Then I’ll tell you.” You kiss him one more time, then he’s out the door.

——

You hear Jamie clattering around in the kitchen as you put on your shoes. You re-touch your lips and hair, then you’re on your way down the stairs.

“Hi babe,” you say to Jamie’s back, fiddling with the coffee machine.

You’ve never had someone look at you the way Jamie is looking at you now. It's the way you look at a good piece of chocolate cake: with a little bit of reverence, and the desire to devour. You forget to blink for over a minute, trapped in his gaze.

He breathes out a single, “Holy fuck,” as he walks toward you and spins you off the bottom step. “you look fuckin’ amazing.”

“How did you know?” you ask, for what feels like the hundredth time.

Jamie sets you down on your bubblegum pink heels. “Easy. That was when I first realized I loved ya.”

Your face heats up. “You… realized you loved me… when I was rambling on about a dress I’ve wanted since high school? That was your moment?”

Jamie’s hands are still around your waist, your hands on his biceps. The room is pleasantly spinning a little bit, and a family of butterflies has taken up residence in your stomach. God, all this time with this boy and he still has the ability to make you feel like a giddy teen with a crush.

“Well, yeah babe, kinda obvious why, innit?” You scrunch your nose in confusion as he continues, “I realized you were talking to me like a real person, as Jamie Tartt, human, not Jamie Tartt the footballer. I felt all weird, so I talked to Keeley about it. Called her on the way home that night. After she finished laughing, she told me I was probably in love with you. Hearing it out loud made me realize she was right.”

The words are barely out of his mouth and you’re kissing him again, pulling him closer and closer until the moment is broken with a ding from Jamie’s phone. It's Dani, asking if you can pick him up on your way. Jamie ushers you out the door and into the car, and for a singular, spectacular moment, everything is perfect.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #ted lasso #jamie tartt

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mjoffic · 1 year

Text

red velvet cake - bf!eddie munson x fem!reader x brother!steve harrington

Summary: Your relationship continues to blossom with Eddie, however your older brother Steve isn’t the biggest fan and lines are tested

Warnings: swearing, smoking, tense situations, angst, fight fight fight, let me know if I miss anything!

Word count: 5.3k

a/n: Hey, all! Welcome to my first official post! If you enjoy, please like, reblog, etc! This was just a lil blurb, but I have other things in the works, so I’m hoping this goes well and I can continue to share with you all!

“I need you and your big hair to calm down.”

Your brother looked to you quickly from the bathroom mirror, his face scrunched up at your comment. “My hair is not big.”

“You say that and yet you’ve gone through your second can of hair spray this month,” you retorted, grabbing the can quickly in your hand.

Steve snatched for it but you held it behind you, ceasing any attempt of him grabbing it. He sighed with a comb still lodged in his brown tuffs and leaned back against the counter. Another disagreement between the two of you. Nothing was new seeing as that was the typical way a brother and sister relationship stemmed. From the time you were born, only a short year after Steve, you were at each other’s throats constantly and could never come to an agreement on anything. Steve would steal your favorite toy that day from the toybox, so you’d steal the TV remote and sit on it to his disdain when your parents allowed you both to pick the nightly movie after dinner. You’d spread gossip in the middle school of your older brothers crush on Tammy Thompson (before the singing career), and somehow most girls still believed in cooties, so he’d steal your clothes from your locker before gym class was over. Today’s topic of conversation once again revisited your current dating life and now you were stealing his most prized possession. This was the never ending, vicious, and annoying cycle only those who had a sibling could understand at the end of the day.

“I really don’t see what the big deal is,” you said, crossing your arms. “Eddie and I have been seeing each other for almost a year now and you still refuse to hang out with him.”

“Yeah, it’s Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. He runs that club Dustin and Mike are in, huge nerd, and he’s in a band that plays at the Hideout” he grumbled. “Also, he’s way older than you.”

“He’s twenty, Steve. It’s not like I’m a kid anymore,” you replied. “Also, he’s a senior. I’m a senior. And Hellfire is actually really cool if you’d take up the invites I’ve extended.”

Steve shook his head, wagging his finger. “No, no, you’re a senior. This is his third time being a senior.”

“And he’s gonna graduate! He finally has a C in Mrs. O’Donnell’s!”

“It’s still weird. And just because you date him doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

A groan escaped you and your arms dropped from their defensive position. “But the least you could do is be civil with him. I can’t bring him over because you make everything so uncomfortable, and now with Nancy’s party coming I’d just like the two of you to get along for once!”

Steve looked to you after your minor outburst and his eyes traveled your face. He couldn’t help but be a little annoyed by you but he hated that in a sense, you were right. He’d only based his opinions on Eddie off of what he knew from when he went to Hawkins High and what he heard around town. You’d always dealt with his on and off again flings that never worked out and continued to accept each one as they came through the door so why couldn’t he do the same for you? It might be the older sibling in him screaming at him to watch out for his baby sister but you were getting older and dating was just naturally right behind. The thought ran a chill down Steve’s spine.

“Fine,” he sighed, standing straight. “I’ll… I’ll try. Just this once. But I’m not going to the board game nights, though.”

You squealed and the jump that came with it shocked your brother. You could get past his comments this once. “Thank you, thank you! Oh, Steve, I could hug you!” You made a face realizing what just came out of your mouth and you shook your head. “But I won’t. Gross. Here’s your even grosser hairspray, I have to go call Eddie!”

You shoved the can back in his hand and spun on your heels, now ready to face your boyfriend and his dislike for Steve. Steve, however, felt a small smile creep up on his face at your antics. His head snapped up at ‘hairspray’ and he groaned.

“It’s not just hair spray!” he yelled after you, before looking to himself in the mirror. “It’s Farrah Fawcett spray.”

● ● ● ●

Eddie had come to pick you up for your nightly drive together as soon as you had called, and you couldn’t help the excitement that buzzed in you. He took note of this and turned down the head pounding sounds of Motley to focus in as soon as you had climbed in the passenger seat. “What’s got you riled up, sweetheart? Missed me that much?”

You smirked, looking to the doe eyed boy. “You’re so full of it, Eds.”

He tossed his hand to his heart, making those big eyes of his twinkle in the light of the dashboard. “Only full of my love for you.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bustled out and Eddie soon joined in, his hand now grabbing yours in his. He squeezed gently and you squeezed back, the cold of his rings sending goosebumps up your arm. “Now come on, spill. You sounded way too excited on the phone.”

You nodded. “While yes, I definitely missed you, I talked to Steve today about Nancy’s party.”

His hand lost a little grip to yours and you looked to him quickly, the smile on his face slowly disappearing and you frowned in response. “Eddie, it was a good conversation. He didn’t even say much in the negative category.”

“Much?” Eddie scoffed. “So I’m guessing we’re gonna talk about it.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I would just really like you both to get along,” you shrugged.

Eddie made a face.

“For one night.”

An eyebrow raised as he looked at you. “For me.”

That was it. Right there. Eddie was caught. How could he say no to you? Your relationship had been nothing but perfect, and there was a happy balance of entertaining each others interests. You’d attend Hellfire meetings with him and watch Corroded Coffin practice, he’d come to your piano recitals and help you finish your notes for book club. You’d share musical interests with each other and watch every movie under the sun, and you’d both agree Sixteen Candles would never been an option. His Uncle Wayne had taken an immense liking to you as soon as you and Eddie became friends, he’d even tag along to your piano recitals sometimes when work didn’t have him in a chokehold.

“I know you two have never really liked each other, but you’re my boyfriend, he’s my brother. At the end of the day I don’t want to have to pick between the two of you, and Steve has agreed to set aside all of it for the party. I just want you to be in the same boat.”

“Is it just one night?” Eddie questioned, his eyes searching yours.

“If I can get one night of civil between you two, I can die happy,” you smiled softly. “And besides, it’ll be fun. Everyone will be there, the kids, Nancy, Robin, Jonathon, and I’m making your favorite.”

“Stop,” he gasped, the twinkle coming back and he grinned. “Please tell me it’s your red velvet cake.”

“With the homemade icing,” you nodded, watching him throw the theatrics back on and he fanned himself. “Mrs. Wheeler has been asking for the recipe since I made it at Holly’s birthday last year, figured the party would be a good time to make it.”

“It’s always a good time for anything you cook,” Eddie praised, making you shift in your seat. “Now I’m really looking forward to this party.”

“Well,” you sighed, adjusting yourself in your seat and turning your full body towards him. “I know something that might help the wait.”

He noticed the change in your tone and his eyes didn’t lose the glimmer, just a different glimmer now displayed and he double checked the gear and threw it in park, having turned into the high school parking lot. “Oh? Did you make something else for me?”

“I brought only the best for you,” you smiled, leaning up and across the console separating you.

Eddie bit his lower lip and his hand grabbed lightly at your face. “Show me, princess.”

Immediately obliging, you pressed your lips to his and he quickly pulled you over the console, resting in his lap. He seemed to take all of this better than Steve. Maybe the party would work out in your favor, hell, maybe they could even be friends by the end of it? Maybe? Right?

● ● ● ●

“I think it’s nice you’re setting aside your differences for your sister,” Nancy said, pouring a bag of chips into a large serving bowl. Robin and Steve were helping her with last minute food prep as they awaited everyone to arrive. Pizza was already there, sodas were in the cooler, Robin even brought movies from Family Video and Steve dug out the old board games your parents had stored away.

“It’s just for tonight,” Steve retorted, grabbing a Coke and quickly opening it. He could feel his usual nerves heightened with the agreement between you and him. He’d never admit it, but having his little sister genuinely involved with someone was a huge thing for him (but also it being Eddie didn’t exactly please him either). “I told her I’d try for tonight.”

“Why don’t you, I dunno, try everyday?” Robin said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re missing out on future brother in law bonding time.”

Steve winced, groaning out and waved his hands. “No, no, no, don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“Ah, but you don’t know either,” the short haired fiend quipped and shrugged. “Also it wouldn’t kill you to maybe get to know Eddie and form your own opinion. He’s sat with us at lunch a few times, he’s not so bad.”

Steve looked to Nancy, his face stressed. “Can you believe this?”

Nancy pursed her lips, finishing up last touches. “I don’t think it’s honestly a big deal.”

“What? You agree?” Steve said. “You’ve seen Munson and-“

“And,” Nancy interrupted. “-nothing. I don’t have an opinion on Eddie because I don’t know him that well.”

Robin gestured in support, throwing her arms out in front of her. “See?”

“Well he doesn’t make the effort either,” Steve defended. “So why should I?”

“One of you has to, or you both have the chance of losing y/n,” Nancy responded, raising her eyebrow at him. “It takes effort from both of you.”

“But-“

The sound of shouting and laughing came from the front room and Nancy looked at him once more. “Behave.”

Steve sighed as the kids piled in the kitchen, scurrying over each other and grabbing what their hands could before Nancy shooed them. “We have more people coming, guys, come on!”

Jonathon followed in, shouting after Will and Dustin as they brushed past him into the living room. He smiled kindly to Steve and soon took to the tension that radiated from the older boy. “You alright?”

Steve nodded, taking a quick drink of his Coke. “Yeah, just being scolded by women. Again.”

Jonathon laughed briefly before Steve spoke up once more. “Is my sister here yet?”

“Uh, I think her and Eddie weren’t too far down the road,” he replied. “I passed them on the way here.”

“Good, good,” he nodded. “Great, wonderful, terrific.”

Steve continued on a tangent of positive words and Jonathon glanced between the two girls, pointing to Steve with an eyebrow raised. Nancy rolled her eyes and shook her head. Robin shrugged, sipping exceptionally loud on her drink. Jonathon made a face at both of them and could only anticipate what to expect going into tonights events.

The same thought had been crossing Eddie’s mind all day. He knew that despite how he felt, he needed to try his best for you. That meant setting aside how he felt about your brother, how Steve made him feel all those years in school, every single time Steve laid the ‘freak’ bit on thick – Eddie was preparing himself to leave it all at the door as soon as you arrived to the party. He could only hope Steve was on the same page and tonight would move rather seamlessly. If all went according to plan, maybe they could continue hating each other again bright and early tomorrow morning.

“Whoa!” you yelped, almost bumping into Eddie who had stopped in front of you. The cake in your hands was fragile cargo and you swerved, saving it from meeting it’s demise with the pavement. “Jeez, Eds, if you want any of this cake I would appreciate if you kept both feet moving or a heads up would be greatly appreciated.”

He turned abruptly and made a face, scratching the back of his head. “Um, yeah, sorry, sweetheart. Just lost in thought."

You couldn’t help but smile softly at him. His nerves were on full display and you knew Steve was most likely in the same boat. You’d do whatever you could to ease both of the boys tensions, to prevent anything from escalating, and you hoped they both knew you were on their sides and not against them. It would be beneficial not just for you but the group, too, if there was common ground and structure and not the constant state of tension so thick, of awkward conversations, of debating if it should be both Steve and Eddie invited or one or the other. Not only was it hard for you, but your friends who were also in the same predicament you were with two of the group members holding it out for one another.

“It’s gonna be fine, Eds,” you said as you stepped up the small step to the door. “Deep breaths, like I taught you.”

He snorted, pushing the door open for you. “Aye, aye, captain.”

The eye roll that followed had Eddie pinching at your hips, causing you to yelp and laugh, trying to escape the attack. “Eddie, stop! I have a cake in-“

Your back met with a firm surface and you gasped, hands gripping the dish even tighter. You wobbled slightly, your feet finding an uneven surface and hands gripped your arms to keep you from tripping even further. The eyes of Steve looked back at yours when you glanced back and you sighed, standing straighter after regaining your footing. “I almost dropped the cake, Steve.”

“Maybe Eddie shouldn’t goof off as much, then,” he stated plainly, removing his hands and making eye contact with Eddie who had set his lips in a fine, tight line at the statement.

“Come on, Steve,” Nancy quipped, stepping in the room. “He was just being a little silly, that’s all. Y/n, Eddie, there’s food and drinks in the kitchen! Come on, I’ll help you get that cake in a safer spot.”

You smiled to Nancy, looking back at Eddie and raised an eyebrow. He shook his head and held up his pack of cigarettes, slipping past the three of you and towards the back doors. A frown soon replaced the former smile and you slipped pass Steve into the kitchen. Nancy gave him a stern look and hustled behind you. This would be a long night.

● ● ● ●

Eddie had rejoined the festivities shortly after his two cigarettes, his nerves only escalating at Steve and his comment. Right off the bat, he had thought, he just had to jump into an accusatory stance. He bit his tongue in your defense, but how long could he keep that up? Jonathon and him had gotten into conversation you had overheard, and watched quietly from a distance. Nancy and Robin chitchatted next to you, and the kids were already causing Steve’s inner mother to kick in. Lucas and Mike were tossing a ball back and forth in the living room, Dustin and Will had turned on their favorite radio station and were singing much off tune to Madonna (much to everyone’s surprised enjoyment, even Eddie who only ever consumed that of every heavy 80’s metal or hairband), and Max and El were currently in a contest of who could crush a soda can the fastest: Max against her forehead, or El with her actually head? Steve was in the current stages of trying to prevent possible brain damage, to both. Erica was continuously bugging you for a slice of cake, to which you turned her down everytime.

“Nerd,” she’d grumble.

“Don’t you agree?” Robin asked, bumping her hip into yours and you quickly looked to her, eyebrows raised. You waited and she glanced to Nancy, then back. “Have you really not been listening? Babes, this is the impending doom of the possibility of not getting new band uniforms.”

“Oh, no,” you breathed, the end of ‘no’ hitching slightly in question and you couldn’t help the giggle that followed when Robin groaned. Nancy joined in the laughter and Robin threw her hands up in exasperation.

“Fine! I’ll go complain to Steve!”

“That might be good, actually,” you suggested, watching Steve stumble by with Dustin on his back and attempting to smack his hands away. “Looks like he could use the help.”

“Dustin! Dustin, Steve is not a piñata!” Robin hollered, following after them as you and Nancy watched in amusement.

“So,” Nancy started in, refilling your cups and returning her gaze to the events taking place in the room next to you. “They haven’t fought.”

“Ssh!” you snapped quickly, looking to her. “Nance, you’ll jinx it! This is the most I’ve seen them not go at each other, even if they are just keeping to themselves. It’s a start and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“How long do you think it’ll keep up, though?” she asked honestly. When you frowned at her question she set a hand on your arm. “I want you happy, you’re my friend. Knowing those two bone heads, though, I just worry they’ll drop the façade when you aren’t looking.”

Your frown creased even further into your face. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Nance. It’s my brother and my boyfriend. I love them both, but I don’t wanna lose either of them.”

“I know,” Nancy sighed, before perking up. “What if-“

“Watch it!” Steve shouted, and all eyes directed into the living room.

Eddie dusted Dustin’s shoulders off, before looking to Steve. “You almost crashed the kid into the bookshelf, man, you should be the one watchin’ it.”

Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Like earlier when you nearly pummeled my sister into the ground?”

“Goddammit, Nancy,” you mumbled before stepping up a ways. “Steve, it was-“

His eyes cast to you and he scoffed. “An accident? Like anytime y’all horse around?”

“Hey,” Eddie snapped, stepping up to your side. “I’ve never laid a hand on her like that.”

“Like what?” Steve retorted.

“You know exactly what you mean,” Eddie said.

Jonathon stepped up now, followed by Dustin. “Come on, guys, everyone just caught up in the moment. Everyone’s good.”

Steve shook his head. “I’ll be good when he’s gone.”

“Steve!” Nancy said, shaking her head.

“Like hell!” Eddie laughed. “I was invited!”

You sat a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, looking to him. “Eddie, calm down.”

“Fine! Then I’ll go!” Steve said, and he looked to you. “Come on, Y/N, we’re leaving.”

Everyone stared, Robin trying to talk quietly to Steve who was having none of it. Nancy looked to Jonathon with a worried expression and the kids clamored to the other side of the room, just watching. You stared at your brother in disbelief and shook your head. “Steve, we just all need a break, please! Let’s just all breathe a second!”

“We can breathe at home.”

Steve stepped up and grabbed your arm, causing Eddie to grab the other. You squeaked at the force of the two boys, looking to Nancy with wide eyes. They had never escalated to protectiveness with you involving each other in the same moment, it had never gotten this heated before and the worry crept in the pit of your stomach, causing bile to slowly rise in the back of your throat. You swallowed it down, the panic on your face evident and Nancy immediately jumped in.

“Boys!” Nancy yelled, grabbing onto Steve and Jonathon grabbing Eddie.

“Come on, guys, this is stupid,” Jonathon added and patted Eddie on his back.

“She doesn’t wanna go,” Eddie snarled, staring Steve right in the face.

“I’m her brother, older might I add, so what I say goes,” Steve responded, Nancy tugging on his belt loop.

“Guys, please stop!” you cried, wiggling in their grips. “You said you’d try! Just break it up!”

Dustin and Max came up, prying the older boys grips and Robin stepped up to pull you aside, her arm slipping around your shoulders. Eddie shook his head, chuckling to himself and turned away from Steve which caused Jonathon to loosen his grip. Nancy kept a petite finger interloped in Steve’s belt loop for safe keeping.

“Steve, why don’t we go outside for a minute?” Nancy mumbled, tugging lightly.

Steve broke his gaze on Eddie, wiping a hand down his face. He nodded slowly and turned towards her. “Yeah… yeah anything to get away from that freak.”

The words slipped out without a second thought. Steve froze, as did everyone else, and eyes landed on Eddie. The panic that set in was worse than the first time and you pulled away from Robin, going to Eddie immediately. As soon as the words were out, Eddie’s shoulders tightened and his back went straight. Jonathon could see his face and he watched every emotion cross over it – shock, realization, anger, guilt, sadness, absolute rage. Eddie couldn’t register who was near him and his hearing went into a high frequency pitch. His eyes darkened and the only thing you felt was the shove, a rush of air, and your back hitting the counter of the island. “Eddie, no!”

Eddie swung first. His fist connected quickly with Steve’s jaw and the elder boy stared stone cold at him as Steve stumbled to the ground.

“Shit,” Dustin muttered and everyone was quick in action.

Steve jumped up from the ground, Will and Mike trying to hold him back while Jonathon and Dustin grabbed for Eddie. Lucas moved Max and Erica out of the way and Robin and Nancy stepped up to your side.

“Let me go!” Steve yelled. “Let me go!”

“Knock it off!” Mike snapped, stumbling at the tug Steve attempted away from the younger boys.

“Come on!” Eddie cackled. “Let pretty boy get a nice swing in!”

“Don’t push it!” Jonathon snapped.

“I’m slipping!” Dustin yelled, his palms clammy and his upper arm strength nonexistent in the pull Eddie had.

“Eddie, Steve, stop!” you shouted. “Stop right now!”

“I’ll never understand what my sister sees in you!” Steve shouted, glaring. “She could do so much better!”

Eddie scoffed and licked his lips. “Like I haven’t heard that before! At least I can land a gal, you strike out on every chance you get! So much for being the Hawkins King!”

“Shut up!” you again yelled.

“Maybe you should listen to your girlfriend! She’s clearly got the brains in this relationship!” Steve smirked. “Third times a charm right?”

“It’s no wonder she hates being at home!” Eddie started, and you froze. “I wouldn’t want to be around someone as idiotic, full of themselves, and a kiss ass like you!”

“Bullshit she doesn’t want to be at home! It’s better than that trailer trash park you’re in! I’m surprised she hasn’t brought home bed bugs or lice!”

“Ask her then! You don’t even try to get to know her anyway, so what does it matter!”

“I know my sister!”

“Like hell!”

Tears began to well in your eyes and you tried your best to swallow them down. The adrenaline was suffocating, everyone getting their own taste of it. Dustin’s grip slowly lost and Eddie pulled free the rest of the way, Steve finding his way out from Will and Mike. Everyone started yelling all at once when the two got ahold of each other, causing mass chaos to ensue. Fists flying, Eddie landed another blow to Steve’s eye – it would definitely be swollen in the next hour and shut completely by the end of the night. Steve tumbled around with Eddie, landing two good blows into his ribs causing the metalhead to yell out – they weren’t broken but there would definitely be major bruising and tender for a while. You attempted your own chance at pulling them apart, but the force of the two sent you stumbling and Nancy shouted, anger setting in for her at the two acting this way in her home. “Knuckleheads, break it up or I’ll call Hopper!”

The two continued their dance, nearly tumbling into the three of you and Steve slammed Eddie against the counter top. Eddie flailed beneath him and Steve sent a blow to his jaw, causing Eddie to yelp in pain. He glared up at Steve and reached around him for anything that would help him gain some traction.

His hand landed in something mushy, his fingers feeling a heavy, thick, consistency on them but he went with it. Eddie grabbed a fist full and landed a blow into Steve’s face, causing him to gasp and lose his hold. Steve wiped his face, red crumbs and white icing coating his hand. He stared at it before looking up and it was on before you could stop them. Steve grabbed his own fist full and the two went back to it, cake and icing flying in every which direction. Food and drinks came with it and everyone yelled as soon, the entire party was coated in carbonation, crumbs of chips, and icing being flung every which direction. Nancy tried to block herself, screaming out in anger. Oh, how much trouble she was going to be in for this later.

You felt the tears brimming, pushing, and soon tumbling over your waterline. They were heavy, hot, and quickly cascading down your face. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath and everything moved in slow motion in front of you. The cake was destroyed, demolished, gone, as were any chances of your two favorite people reconciling and putting any differences behind them. There went any chances of family dinners, trips, any chances of enjoying a Corroded Coffin show, any chances of a future that was healthy with either one. You watched as they continued their antics, neither one of them sparing any glance to check on you, to see your reaction, for any sign or confirmation that you were okay. In this moment, it was about Steve and Eddie. It was always about Steve and Eddie. Reflecting and looking back, even when it was you and only one of them, it turned around to discuss the other.

Steve always wanted to know what Eddie was doing, who he was hanging out with, where you were going with him, if Eddie was trying to sell you weed, if you two were drinking. Anything he could get dirt on for your parents. Eddie always wanted to know what Steve was doing, if he was working, when he was working, and when he’d be home so he could plan exactly to come get you at the worst time just to annoy him. It was little things, it was spiteful, and the two couldn’t leave high school behind. Where did you even fit in to the equation? At that point it’d be better for them to just date each other.

Making your way to the now empty cake platter, a splash of Coke greeting you in the face on your trek, you grabbed the glass dish firmly in your hands. The porcelain was completely clean, smooth, no crumbs of what had been. This is what your life would be now; clean, smooth, no crumbs of what had been. The surface, slipping back and forth in your hands, would not survive this fight either. Arms raising above your head, you could hear your pulse in your ears, not even the shout from Robin when she saw what you were doing, it was so loud. Even when you screamed out in frustration, you couldn’t hear how actually loud you were, how it was almost deafening as the realization set over the situation in front of you. Most everyone covered their ears with their hands, wide eyed and cowering back from what was to come. With your screaming, you quickly brought the plate crashing down to the kitchen tile and shards of glass went flying. The small pieces grazed your bare calves, probably not the best time to be wearing shorts. Steve and Eddie were the two closest to the line of fire, both of them turning away and blocking their faces. When the glass had calmed, that’s when your screaming did, and the deafening silence that followed felt louder.

Everyone looked around, food and drink covering every surface in the kitchen and half of the living room. The glass had spread from the bottom of your feet into the line of the living room, down the tile of the kitchen, and even some had managed to bounce to the countertop. All eyes slowly landed on you, Eddie and Steve both finally taking in the mass destruction of what they had caused. Tears continued to stream down your face, mixed with the icing slabbed on your cheek and the stain of Coke all along the collar and upper shoulders of your shirt. Eddie looked to your legs and saw the thin lines of blood from the shards, before meeting your face again. Steve watched as your shoulders shook from the sobs held in, your face as red as the cake you had made.

Oh shit, the cake.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie started.

“Kiddo, I-“ Steve added at the same time.

“No!” you sobbed. The room grew quiet again. All eyes were on you. This was your time.

“I-“ you started, taking a deep breath to try and align yourself. “I didn’t want to lose- to lose either of you. I wanted th-this to work. Just once!”

Guilt began creeping over the boys, disappointment settled in Steve’s bones as he knew he let you down, Eddie feeling his own tears start to grow at the state you were in. They didn’t want this.

“But now,” you chuckled, causing both boys to go rigid in fear. “Now I realize you’re losing me.”

You looked to each of them, a sob tight in your chest and you choked it back. With shaking hands, you wiped the remaining food from your face, and brushed past the two of them and everyone else. The sobs finally racked your chest as you quickly made your way out the door, slamming it shut behind you.

Steve and Eddie looked around before looking at each other. They both were fucked up. And they had fucked up. Big time.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #brother!steve harrington #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #stranger things fluff #eddie munson angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #sister!reader #harrington!reader #first post #oh shit #hope this goes well #brbgonnagocry

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