#Yandere florist

[queenie-the-court-jester]

pucker up buttercup

Yandere florist x reader

Tw: mentions of physical abuse in sexual settings, implied drugging and somnophilia, stalking, implied possessive behavior and controlling nature, mildly nsfw. Not proofread 🌺

🌷Benny was the quiet kid of your school. You didn't know much about him, except he was a good student and apart of the gardening club. That was all, but Benny? Oh he knew you very well..

🌷you were stunning. You had such amazing hair that he wanted to play with every night before going to sleep, those stunning beautiful eyes that always ghosted over his form in the cafeteria, and your voice that always managed to make him rock hard down there

🌷 recently your family had gotten a wide assortment of flowers for an event. Thinking they were pretty, you asked for the florists name or any social they might have. They handed you a card with the info, and with that you looked up the account on Instagram.

🌷 scrolling through their posts you found a familiar face you'd see every day in the school halls. What was his name again? Benjamin? Beanie? No.. oh yeah! Benny! You didnt know he had such a good eye for aesthetics, especially flower arrangements. But that has to be expected since he spends all his time gardening

🌷the next time you saw him, you walked right up to his table on campus grounds. A bit far from the other outside lunch areas. He froze when he saw a familiar pair of shoes, looking up at you slowly with those big blue eyes

"you're a florist right?"

"y-yes..?"

"how much for a dozen roses and half a dozen tulips?"

🌷you became a regular after that. He'd wait anxiously every day for you in the plant nursery after school. He always gave you such cheap prices, claiming you were his friend and he only did favors for them. You thought he was sweet, so when you heard rumors about him being caught sneaking around the girls locker rooms and stalking a classmate? You shrugged it off,most likely empty gossip

🌷if only you paid attention to the red flags sooner.. you would have realized Benny's real nature. When he asked you out prom night, you agreed, he was sweet and you weren't seeing anyone at the moment. Who knew, maybe this would be the start of a beautiful relationship?

Pros with Benny:

🌹atleast he's a very generous lover. Spoiling you with what he could afford, since he came from humble beginnings he's always wise with the money you both have

🌹 he's completely devoted to you! Never looking at anyone else with love or lust, always worshipping you both in bed and outside it

🌹you learn new things. Like natural remedies, plants and their names, their usefulness to make nearly everything. Even drugs (He's vegan.)

🌹he wants to settle down and raise a family with you as soon as you graduate college! He gets tipsy and love drunk thinking about it too much. He'd make an excellent father. Kind of.

The cons:

🥀 randomly, he'll get very aggressive in bed. Biting you till your skin bleeds, slapping your chest and ass, degrading you with the most vilest words. Not to mention he seems to really like choking you till you almost pass out

🥀he doesn't know how to take no for an answer, he'll go scarily quiet and his eyes will turn dull. A complete contrast to how he usually is. Surely a little intimidation will make you change your mind no?

🥀 he's possessive with your time and love. If he ever notices you staring at anyone a little too long, who isn't friends or family he knows of, you bet there'll be missing person posters by the end of the week

🥀he forbids you from going into the basement. Saying it's his private nursery and you should respect his privacy, even if he doesn't respect yours

🥀 randomly you'll feel sleepy after Eating anything he makes you, growing drowsy and the last thing you can remember is feeling clammy hands hastily unbutton your pants and shirt

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Short Stories:

A Confession to Make

Yandere Florist (Callum) x Fem Reader

Blood red flowers laid out in a maple wood work desk, their boood red petal reminiscent of Callum’s past as a hit man. The florist hummed as he carefully cut each stem and trimmed the leaves of each flower to arrange a bouquet for his favorite customer… he wondered if (your name) understood the meaning behind these vibrant flowers and how they were a loud declaration of his love for her.

Callum sighed dreamily while he organized each chrysanthemum with white wax flowers, eucalyptus, thistle, and red hypericum berries. He truly wanted to put a lot of thought into each flower in this bouquet in hopes that his feelings finally went through to his beloved m’eudail.

Callum had been after (your name) the moment she enter his shop all those months ago. To him, she was dainty and perfect… a true lady who had easily captivated him with her shy smile and innocent eyes. Callum wanted her in ways he’d never wanted anyone else before… it was nearly carnal from how badly he wanted to bend her over and stuff her fat with his kids- woah. He had just gotten a bit to in over his head there for a moment…

The melodic dingle of the front door bell broke him from his musings. The red head quickly peaked his head out from his workroom to spot (your name) in the doorway.

“Good morning, Callum!” (Your name) giggled at the scarred man whose cheeks flushed red. “I saw that you have some new flowers in stock.”

“Give me one moment and I’ll tell you what each one is!” Callum chuckled, his green eyes scanned over her small frame in awe. (Your name) was always so cute!

Callum finished the last few touches to his lovely bouquet with a smile. The bouquet would no doubt swallow (your name), but he couldn’t help the excitement that seeped into his love stricken heart.

“Hey, I put something together for you.” Callum hid the bouquet behind his back as he smiled warmly at (your name). The young woman perked up once she spotted the bouquet. A bashful smile now on her face when Callum gently placed the red bouquet in her hands.

“You made me a bouquet?” (Your name) admired each flower in awe. It appeared Callum put a lot of thought and care into each piece of this arrangement. “It’s so beautiful… the red kind of reminds me of your hair.”

Callum chuckled before he bit his lip. It seemed (your name) didn’t understand the romantic language of flowers… but that was okay! He was willing to outright admit his interest in her!

“Well, these are much more than flowers…” Callum towered over (your name) as he pointed to each flower. “Red chrysanthemums for passion and love, wax flowers for a wish of lasting success, red hypericum berries, thistle, and eucalyptus for protection.”

(Your name) blushed when Callum grabbed her hands, the bouquet the only item in the way of the two of them from hugging.

“In other words, I’m confessing to you.” Callum whispered softly, his green eyes filled with adoration. “So what do you say? Would you be mine, m’eudail?”

[ryzl]

imagine a yandere! florist 🌷

yandere! florist who is tired of his every day life. it is a never ending cycle

that is until . . . . . he saw YOU ♡

yandere! florist who, at first, doesn't care. he just saw you as a normal person (with unreal beauty, might i add) who just happens to always visit the bookstore in front of the flower shop he works on

yandere! florist who starts to see you frequently, and couldn't help but get curious as to why you always visit the bookstore in front of the shop.

i mean, could you at least go to HIS shop? pretty please? 😩

yandere! florist who couldn't help but feel overjoyed when you actually went to his shop. hooray for him

saying you ordered for a bouquet of ROSES. hmmm red?

i wonder who is it for ? your lover maybe? oh no that shouldn't be possible. you are his.

so when yandere! florist asked who's it for, you should answer honestly, alright? SO WHO'S IT FOR?

oh? what you've ordered was wrong? whew, you almost gave him a heart attack darling :3

it's actually WHITE ROSES, for a family member ig???

yandere! florist who prepared the bouquet for you (lmao expect his number on a seperate card inside the bouquet)

yandere! florist who told you to come anytime :> you are always welcome here 🥳

yandere! florist who starts to stalk you on the daily. :))

no problem with that right??? yeah, thought so too.

yandere! florist who figured out where you live !!!!

you can expect random flowers that are associated with "romantic love" by your door step :> you're welcome, my dearest.

oh love, it's very fun seeing you look around for whoever the flowers are from. you look so cute :3 he wanna squish you :>

yandere! florist who (finally) mustered up enough courage to actually give the flowers to you. FACE TO FACE 🙀

like omg can this even get any more creepier ROMANTIC?

yandere! florist who did his very best to pour all his affection to you :>

in short, he's proving to you that he's hubby material 🥰🥰🥰

yandere! florist who has vendetta against the librarian

yes he considers that librarian his rival when it comes to winning your love ♡

to anyone who wants to add anything in here, feel free to do so :>

yeah this is so rushed >:D anyways, i would like to thank everyone for supporting my mini writings :3 (love lots)

and btw mga dude, there will be a yandere! librarian next. ay na'spill. keme keme keme :3 see you next time guys

[belovedyandere]

*slowly slides 20 dollar bill across table*

so how abt flower shop yandere with sub top darling

cw. aphrodisiacs, sexual themes, yandere themes

he’s reciting beautiful poetry, or attempting to through his stutters and moans, eyes glassy from the absolute bliss he feels as you ride him. you place your palm over his lips to shut him up, now you only hear his muffled moans. even with his mouth closed, he’s chanting poems of your grace and your divinity by thought. it’s quite charming to hear them, but seeing him crumble below you with eagerness is quite fitting for you.

for him, he’ll take any sort of affection you give him. if he had known gifting you flowers that were sprayed with aphrodisiacs and a bottle of wine would have had this strong effect on you, he’d be spraying your whole house with the intoxicating smell and he’d stay there to satiate your desires. no matter the pain from overstimulation, nor the dehydration and exhaustion, he’d die happily like this. he just wants you to want him as he does you, even using him for any of your desires would have him feeling content. he’s glad you aren’t aware of the aphrodisiacs, he had prepared to hear you blame it on the wine after eating breakfast. which you do, but you keep going. it was the wine….but you also had hoped that it would turn into more…between the two of you.

now as you know, your florist is a man of wearing his heart on his sleeves. he’s driven by poetic romance, so this confession had him spilling a few tears. not too many, he did his best to not want to scare you from your heartfelt confession (his reality dramatising your simple confession), though to the best of his abilities, a few escaped his heart formed eyes. from there onwards, you were visited by your boyfriend who brought beautiful flowers and gifts every day. you saved each poem that he had written for you, and he saved each tube filled with your liquids that he’d wring from the bedsheets after your lovemaking.

[pandas-pandemonium]

I recent found a new yan! fic about yandere merpeople on quotev and it's been living rent free in my mind.

Now as I'm writing this I'm thinking about all sorts of ways to mash up all the yandere types together (e.g. jock, nerd, florist, baker, etc.) into one spicy yandere merman au and I'm frothing at the mouth

Also, for this post only, I'm allowing y'all to send me any further ideas or brainrots you want to discuss via inbox!

Content Warning: Implied cannibalism? for the last one - is it cannibalism tho if it's a siren posing as a human? hm...

Consider:

BufF Yandere!Merman, perhaps a shark or whale or octopus or even giant squid merman in a modern Little Mermaid type of story - a yandere!merman who falls in love with a human who happened to have the misfortune of meeting him during a class beach trip or just a hangout with their friends. What better way to join their world than to become human and enrol in the human's school/college/uni?

Yandere!Florist!Selkie who's taken a liking to land flora and has spent half their life on land with a seaside flower shop. He truly finds humans and their plants so fascinating and beautiful! It's all perfect until he meets a human who catches his eye. He feels almost at home with them! Sure, he enjoys being on land and meeting new people and learning about plants, but he's never felt like he truly belonged. It's so rare to meet a human like this, so knowledgeable about plants, both aquatic and land! He's practically throwing himself at you, thirsting for the knowledge you have as well as your company. If this keeps up any longer, he might just drag you back to the ocean with him.

Yandere!Chef!Siren who is a little less vicious than most of his kind, in fact, he's found a way to survive on land AND use his powers! No, of course he's not luring and eating humans, what are you talking about?? He's only using his powers for fishing, and using the large and varied bounty of fish he frequently gathers to operate a seaside restaurant famous for ridiculously good seafood. Although of course... sometimes he can't help but lure a curious employee of customer to the back to just... take a quick snack after hours. Perhaps he becomes obsessed with the new chef of his, who so fervently demanded that he hire them and take them as his apprentice. He seems to know his way so well around seafood, and who's better than him to train them? Perhaps over time he finds his mouth feeling a little itchy, wanting to sink his teeth into his little apprentice's neck, and mark them as his...

[godnectar]

I.

I stumbled onto your blog and it is filled with GOLD. You are an amazing writer and I just. I can't. Sweet shit.

If it's not too much trouble, could I ask for a yandere florist? Only if it's not too much of a bother.

・✶ ｡ﾟ𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓 ;

cw: flower obsessed and delusional babe, stalking, kidnapping, aphrodisiacs and sedatives (a bit), etc.

𖣠 YANDERE FLORIST! whose innocent smile welcomes you every time you enter the shop; with eyes full of adoration at the sight of his favorite customer, he quickly bids a client farewell and gives you his entire attention.

𖣠 YANDERE FLORIST! who has decided to decorate the shop in hopes that you would come more often. nothing excessive; just some cozy lightning and a few essential oils like lavender, clary sage or orange blossom... ─ what a coincidence all of these are aphrodisiacs, don't you think?

𖣠 YANDERE FLORIST! whose heart fills with joy every time u smile when picking up your orders. maybe, maybe he could start delivering them in person ─ not to see you, of course not, but so you don't have to tire yourself excessively <3

𖣠 YANDERE FLORIST! who is beginning to frequent your home and workplace to deliver gorgeous flowers. the reason behind it? it seems that u now have something like a secret admirer who likes to spoil his darling; i wonder who it is~

𖣠 YANDERE FLORIST! who feels like he's the luckiest man in the world when, through the little anonymous notes that come with his bouquets, he manages to arrange a blind date with you ─ this is just the first step to finally spend the rest of life together with his lovely sunflower. ♡

𖣠 YANDERE FLORIST! who, though amused by the surprise in your eyes for discovering who your supposed admirer was, is delighted to spend the night on a date with his beloved. perhaps you could stay until later, and with the help of a few drops of valerian or opium extract u could stay forevermore!

𖣠 YANDERE FLORIST! who, once he's sure that you will stay with him without trying to leave, starts preparing ur shared room the same way he did with the store; lots of beautiful plants surround the bed and scented candles are setting the mood, he even took out more of his "special" oil essences to make things easier for his babe ─ he did say he wouldn't let u get more tired than necessary, such a caring soul-

"ah, darling– may our love blossom like the most beautiful flower! ...and well, if that's not possible, i guess artificial plants are pretty too <3"

© godnectar 2023. please do not modify, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my permission.

[inthewaterifoundyou]

Title: And In the Water I Found You (Growing Like a Weed) Summary: You first meet Peter when he finds his way into your florist shop during a summer rain shower. (Or you give Peter an umbrella and a bundle of flowers, and he keeps coming back.) Tags: florist reader, female reader, soft reader, no use of y/n, what if Peter met y/n a few years later than canon after she graduated and stopped working dead end jobs, flower language, mutual pining Warnings: canon typical violence, rating may go up if I decide to include smut

[LINK]

[vagabond-umlaut]

INVERSE FUNCTION (1)

yandere sukuna x fem!reader; stalking; insp: this song [pls listen to this after reading]

divider by @benkeibear; jjk isn't mine; pls don't plagiarise/translate/repost this ❤️❤️

Sukuna is hooked on you.

He has no idea since when, why or how– but he has a very good idea of the degree he is hooked on you— each and every small bit of you–

Your sleepy face, first thing in the morning as you open the windows to your room, and stare at the sky then the empty street below. Your peppy walk out the apartment, not even an hour later as you head to your classes, always so punctual– so neatly, cutely dressed.

The warm smiles you offer everyone you come across— be it the kids waiting for their bus, the florist, the barista who serves you coffee, or the many classmates you've whenever you step into the class, words of greeting leaving you and brightening the room, more than the sun.

And not to mention the endearing look of concentration your pretty features wear, when the classes start.

Sukuna swears he has to actively, very painfully, restrain himself from walking right up to you and kissing your face off, each and every time your eyebrows gather together and your lips pucker into a pout– only for your teeth to sink into your lower lip not a moment later, the flesh there growing angry red, deliciously so, as you continue taking notes of the lecture.

Although... the man thinks his favourite look on you has got to be the one you wear in the evening: when the classes are over, when all your friends have finally left, when you're by yourself, no longer smiling as brightly as you do. Seeming so tired, so very fragile, as you trudge on the darkening streets back to your flat...

It makes something weird, but not wholly unpleasant, curl up within his chest. So strong that it makes him want to pick up into his arms, and keep you there forever, safe and sound and well-rested. Forever with him, tucked in the safety of his embrace—

Sukuna is not too sure, but he thinks this feeling might be why he has suddenly decided to break into your house today, instead of watching you from afar like he has always done. Or maybe, just maybe...

Watching you from a distance is no longer enough for him.

He has to enter the place you call 'home'.

He has to soak up every drop, memorise every fleck of your life here.

Starting from the random tiny doodles scribbled on the canary yellow walls— to the thick hardcover books and notebooks in neat stacks on the sofa, the table, the floor— to the pressure cooker kept on the oval burner of your gas stove— to the queen-size bed in a floral bed sheet, visible if he walks past the translucent screen between your bedroom and living room— to the sketchbook lying on the bed– its pages filled with– filled with–

Sketches Of Him!?!?

Him working in the garage on a car. Him smoking at the bus stop you travel from. Him dozing in class, head propped up on a fist. Him busy eating sandwiches, binoculars on the bench beside as his gaze stays somewhere above—

The sketchbook is filled with drawings of him, him, and only him—

Something stirs and stutters and stomps on his sternum; albeit he is unsure why. Is it the fact that he finally realises he is standing right in the middle of your bedroom– the most intimate place in your life? Or is it because he is staring at these many sketches your dainty fingers have made of him– so beautiful, so careful, so unlike him?

Can it be the unease clawing at him, stemming from your knowledge of him being in places close to you, where and when he should never be? Or– maybe or– is it the thrill tingling his fingers, when he realises, you too have been at places close to him, where and when you must never ever be...

A door opens and shuts behind him.

Sukuna swerves back to find you standing outside your bathroom, in nothing but a flimsy nightgown, hair still soaking wet whilst the towel hangs off your bare shoulders.

Your eyes jump from him to the sketchbook in his hand then to him— before crinkling into two pretty half-crescents as you smile... Sort of–

"Tea or coffee, stranger?"

follow the series here 🥰🥰 // masterlist

[seijorhi]

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.”

[queenie-the-court-jester]

M'sorry, i mean benny:D stupid autocorrect

Whoever this anon is I immediately love you, silly goober

Tw: suicide mention, abusive, power imbalance, human pet, yandere oc

depending on how unstable Benny is, you get multiple answers

The beginning of the relationship: he'd be desperate, doing everything he can to win your affection. Going over budget on gifts and practically following you everywhere, begging for a second chance

Midway: where he starts to develop aggressive tendencies: he'd simply knock you out and tie you onto his bed. Putting on a collar when you want to use the bathroom. Say goodbye to leaving the house, because now he treats you like a human pet. Gross mf

Near the end of his sanity. Let's say you got tired of him and his abusive behavior, so you somehow managed to escape. No doubt you've called the police so he's on the run. Hunting you down as you think you finally ended that chapter. Only to wake up one night with him hovering over your bed, knife in hand and getting ready to stab. Till death do you both part right? (He killed himself soon after)

[yandere-writer-momo]

The final part of Mommy! First part

Yandere Short Stories: Mommy

Delusional Yandere Single Father x Teacher Afab Reader x Platonic Yandere Son

Jesse wrapped his arms around (your name)‘s legs, the small boy hummed in contentment when she ran her fingers through his black curls. Why couldn’t she be his mom? She was so warm and gentle… so much better than the woman who gave birth to him.

“Jesse? I think your nanny is waiting to take you home.” (Your name) smiled down at Jesse who only burrowed himself further into her skirts. She sighed at how clingy the young boy was, but she was sympathetic to his feelings. Jesse didn’t have any warmth in his home so he sought it out from her.

“I don’t want to go home… can’t I stay with you?” Jesse glanced up at her with his blue puppy dog eyes, his lips in a pout. “Can’t you just adopt me, I’ll be good…”

“Jesse, I can’t adopt you.” (Your name) felt her heart clench when he started to cry. “Jesse-“

“But all the other kids have a mommy and I don’t! I want to be read stories and I want homemade lunches. I don’t want to be alone!” Jesse buried his face into (your name)’s skirts. His little hands clutched tightly onto the cotton fabric in a death grip. “I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be quiet and I won’t ask for much-“

(Your name)’s thumbs instantly brushed away the hot tears that dribbled down his soft cheeks to smooth the young boy. Her beautiful face now in a frown.

“Shh… you can come hang out with me when you’re lonely at school.” (Your name) warmly smiled at Jesse. She ran her fingers through his thick curls as he sniffled.

“R-really? You’ll let me spend time with you?” Jesse’s voice trembled as he tried to calm his tears. “Can I eat lunch with you everyday? I like when you cut the crust off my sandwiches…”

“Of course, Jesse.” (Your name) reassured Jesse, who buried his face in her skirts once more. This sweet boy… he deserved love.

Unbeknownst to (your name), Jesse had a wicked smile on his sweet face that was hidden in her skirts.

Jesse may have been the spit image of Liam, but he was still his birth mother’s son… and (your name) would be his mommy one way or another.

.

.

.

Jesse often hogged (your name)’s attention from the other children. He’d rush to her first whenever class would start or end to hug her, he’d raise his hand for every question so he could be praised, and he’d constantly ask for help.

Jesse was not liked by the other children but he didn’t care all that much about them.

Because Jesse wanted his mommy to only have eyes for him.

.

.

.

Liam felt nervous at the florist shop he was in. The various floral displays of affection made his stomach twist into a knot. He was so nervous… to buy apology flowers for his son’s teacher.

Liam ran a hand through his dark hair with a sigh. This was an incredibly frustrating experience for him since he’s never bought a gift for a woman before. Especially not one as lovely as (your name). Liam couldn’t get her angry expression out of his head… she haunted his dreams and lingered in the crannies in his mind.

She was an itch he couldn’t scratch and Liam disliked this alien feeling she brought out. Liam didn’t know why his heart pounded in his chest at the thought of her or why his cheeks heated up. It made him anxious.

“And what can I help you with today, sir?” The florist smiled warmly at Liam who nearly jumped out of his skin. Liam had been so lost in his thoughts, the florist had caught him off guard.

“I think I would like a bouquet of roses…” Liam’s forest green eyes glanced at the red roses in interest. “The reddest ones you have.”

(Your name) would look lovely in red… Liam couldn’t help the image of her in a red dress that surfaced in his mind. He didn’t quite understand his attraction toward her, but he hoped it would fade.

.

.

.

Liam stood before (your name) in her classroom, his cheeks rosy as he studied her expression. Her arms held the fragrant roses in confusion.

“Mister Isbert? There was no need to get me roses-“

“I’m sorry for making presumptions about your character. It was unjust of me.” Liam bowed to (your name) in apology. “Please forgive me-“

Liam gasped when she moved closer to him, which and whom snap his head up in attention. His forest green eyes wide when she gave him such a warm smile… he’s never seen a smile like that directed toward him in his entire life.

“It’s perfectly okay. I understand you may have been through some trauma but I assure you I’m not after those sorts of things with you.” (Your name) then turned her gaze toward Jesse who peaked around the corner of the classroom. It seemed the young boy was eager to enter. “I’m just concerned for Jesse is all-“

“I do not know how to be a good father…” Liam shyly admitted, his forest green eyes focused on her confused expression. “I have never been taught warmth.”

“Well I have no issue teaching you how to spend time with a child… if you’d like of course, mister Isbert.” (Your name) smiled at Liam whose cheeks went aflame.

“I’d love to…” Liam cleared his throat and gave (your name) a soft smile. “And please, call me Liam.”

The two adults smiled warmly at each other which made Jesse perk up from his spot. Maybe he’d get her to be his mommy after all…

.

.

.

(Your name) laughed when Liam tried to tie Jesse’s shoe laces. The businessman was clueless…

“Here, let me help.” (Your name) gently took the shoelaces from Liam and slowly tied them in front of him. “The dragon goes under the bridge, through the loop, and into the castle!”

Jesse giggled at the rhyme, his eyes sparkled at his dad. “See! Mommy knows how to tie shoes!”

Liam blushed in embarrassment when (your name) and Jesse shared a laugh. He never knew how simple this was… how a family should be.

“Why don’t we read a book together?”

Liam glanced over at (your name) while she picked out a fairy tale. A ray of sunlight hit her at the perfect angle that made her even more angelic.

Liam never knew someone could be so beautiful…

.

.

.

Weeks went by of Liam’s ‘lessons’ of fatherhood. The two adults would laugh together as (your name) tried to teach him how to be more affectionate with his son, unaware that the businessman started to be affectionate with her as well… Liam came to terms that he loved her.

Liam loved the young woman who was eager to help him mend his relationship with his son and teach him how to love. To not take out his trauma onto Jesse and to be more open to change.

Liam became a better person by being around (your name) and he had no interest in going back to the way his life was before he got to know her better. The two of them were truly a power couple! She’s shown him a new side of life he never knew existed… who knew Jesse would indirectly introduce Liam to his soulmate?

Liam blushed as he sat at his desk, his head filled with thoughts of (your name). The image of her holding Liam in her arms burned in his mind.

How could someone look so perfect holding his child?

Liam dug into his desk drawer and pulled out one of the many drawing Jesse had made of (your name) and him. The three of them as a happy family.

Liam lit up a cigar and took a deep inhale of the smoke. Yes… he’d ask her to be his wife. To be Jesse’s mom.

Liam held the picture close to his chest. He needed to tell her how he felt… of how he loved her.

.

.

.

Liam upped security around the school as usual since he dropped by for the lessons. Liam wanted to ensure this entire ordeal remained private, he had no desire to add more stress onto poor (your name)’s life… today, they were gong to become an official family.

Liam sighed dreamily as he thought of what was about to happen today. (Your name) would be so beautiful as his wife and future mother of more children. He wondered how many siblings Jesse would like? To add onto their perfect family.

“Is there something wrong, Liam?” Liam perked up when (your name) softly called his name, she was careful not to disturb the sleeping Jesse in her arms. “You’ve been lost in space for a while now.”

“Would you be interested in dating me?” Liam’s blunt question nearly made (your name) fall over in shock. Date him? Where on earth did he get the idea that she wanted that sort of relationship with him?

“I don’t think we should.” (Your name) smiled warmly at Liam who frowned at her gentle rejection. “You’re a CEO of a big corporation and I’m just a measly kindergarten teacher.”

“I could take care of you.” Liam whispered softly. “You’d never struggle financially and you could be with Jesse every day. Don’t you want Jesse to be happy?”

(Your name) glanced down at the young boy who remained asleep. She did care about Jesse… but not enough to date his father.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do that.” (Your name) sighed softly as she handed Jesse to Liam to take. “I hope you find someone on your level to be with, Liam.”

Liam could only sit on the floor in shock when she walked to her desk to gather her belongings. She didn’t want him? Why didn’t she want him?

Liam tried to speak but he couldn’t find the words to stop her. How could he tell her he’s never felt this way before? That he wanted her? That he-

“I love you!” (Your name) froze in the doorway when Liam blurted out his declaration of love.

“W-what-“ Liam scrambled to his feet to try to stand before her. His lithe body hovered over her like a shadow.

“I love you and I’ve never felt this way before… please give me a chance.”

“I’m sorry, Liam-“

“I won’t accept no as an answer.” Liam felt his stomach twist but he needed to get her to be his… he needed her. “I’ll ruin your life if you don’t accept my love. I’ve never wanted anything in my life as much as I want you.”

Jesse stirred awake in Liam’s arms, the young boy’s eyes wide at his father’s words. “Become Jesse’s mom. I’m serious about being with you.”

“I-“ (your name) was cut off by Jesse who excitedly reached for her.

“Mommy? You’ll be my mommy?!” Jesse began to cry when he hands grabbed hers. “Mommy. Mommy!”

“Yes, Jesse.” Liam smiled down at Jesse as he pulled (your name) close. “Miss (last name) is going to be your mommy.”

“No-“ (your name) gasped when Liam suddenly bent down to kiss her which made Jesse smile brightly.

“We should head home, right?” Liam turned to Jesse who smiled brightly at his dad. “Like a happy family should.”

[hellbornsworld]

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION (1)☆・°🪐🤍📀°・☆

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　

♡touch me wherever | Innocent jk x Innocent reader | SMUT | @bangtangalicious 

♡The price of Love | Teaser | Yandere jk X Reader | @aajjks

♡campus affairs | Friend jk X Reader | @kooktrash

♡Tokyo Drift |Street Racer! Jungkook x CEO Daughter! Reader | secret relationship @miraclesatnightfall

♡warrior jk | warrior!jungkook x princess!reader | @jungkookschin

♡Hieros Gamos | God!Thanatos!Jungkook x Goddess!reader | @girl8890

♡Bedeviled | demon!jungkook x female reader | series | @writemywaytoyourheart

♡Streams & Sheets | gamer!jungkook x reader | established relationship | @astralmono

♡Alexithymia. | Demon!Jungkook x Reader | series | @minjoonalist

♡Perfect Love | tattoo parlor owner Jungkook! X florist and cafe owner! Reader | @i-am-baechu

♡Spring Day Still with You | hybrid!Jungkook x reader | @yoongsisbae

♡Anonymous ask | stepbrother!jungkook x reader | forbidden | @aris-ink

♡deep six: watch yourself | biker!jk x reader | secret relationship | @bratkook

♡Pi Gasu | vampire!jk X reader | series | @jungk0oksthighs

♡affluenza | jk X reader | richkids | series | @yoon2k

♡tutus & tiaras | husband!jk X pregnant!reader | series | @1kook

♡lovefool | bf!jk X reader | series | @citrustan

♡anti-fairy-tale | dilf!jk X reader | series | @citrustan

♡Aim For The Heart | hitman!jk X reader | series | @writemywaytoyourheart

♡Cruel Intentions |mafia!jk X reader | series | @explicit-tae

♡Caught in his Web: No way out | yan!spiderman!jungkook x reader | @aajjks

♡the other woman | yandere!jk X reader | @trivia-yandere

♡LOVE SHOT | yandere!jk X reader | series | @redsaurrce

♡REIGN OF TERROR | yandere!jk X reader | series | @thepinkproof

♡ Slave 19990319 | alien/prince! Jungkook x human! reader | series | @explicit-tae

♡Seneschal | vampire!jk X reader | series | @jikookiekosmos

♡DEMONS OF MY MIND | YandereDoctor/DemonSlayer!jungkook x fem!reader | @redsaurrce

♡Yours Insanely | yandere!jk X reader | @smileyoongle

♡hell is empty | drug lord!jungkook x reader | series | @aquagustd

♡love lies | yandere!jk X reader | series | @kooktrash

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　　　

OTHER POSTS:

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(1)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(2)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS(3)

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATION(4)

ALL BTS MEMBERS WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(1)

BTS X READER WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(2)

[twstgarden]

✰ ❝ 𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘆 ❞

━ yan! octavinelle trio / yan! scarabia duo / yan! pomefiore trio x gn! reader (f/n means first name) (reader can be yuu or an oc) ━ certain friends on campus have started to be a little overbearing. to the point where they won't let you leave their dormitory so easily.

cw: (including but not limited to) yandere themes, unhealthy relationships/obsessions, use of drugs, mentions of drugging/spiking, captivity, kidnapping, mentions of curse/poisoning, love bombing/acts of manipulation

requested by: @mx.lustreless request type: scenarios requester’s message: Not mucy to say, just a bunch of yandere scenarios, I'm not sure if you're still taking requests but i guess you still are? You can get creative :> florist’s note: thank you for the request and for filling out the form!

this work may contain spoilers from chapters 3, 4, and 5, octavinelle, scarabia, and pomefiore's arcs respectively.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me

━ 𝙤𝙘𝙩𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚 ━

"ah, if it isn't prefect!"

you took a deep breath, exhaling it softly as you gave azul a forced smile the moment he laid eyes on you again. you did not want to return to mostro lounge again due to the uncomfortable vibes you have been getting, but you had no choice as your friend dragged you to have an afternoon snack in this private café.

"hello..." you mumbled in reply, avoiding his gaze with a clear indication that you wanted to leave as soon as possible. however, your friend was already ordering a drink as jade jotted down the orders on a notepad.

his sharp eyes then looked at you with that grin on his face, "and you? dear f/n?" your friend then looked at you with a smile, making you look back at the menu as you replied, "um... i won't order for now."

"are you not hungry?" your friend asked, tilting their head before sighing, "we've been in class all day and i did not see you eat! you should have something..."

then, your friend decided to place an order for you, and jade merely smiled as he wrote down the drinks and/or meals for you both. you breathed a sigh of relief the moment he, his twin, and his boss left your table.

"you seem tense," noted your friend.

"i'm just tired..." you lied, smiling a little at them.

initially, you enjoyed the atmosphere of the mostro lounge and it has always been your go-to spot after class and during the weekends. you have grown used to the trio's presence and considered them as close friends.

however, the longer you kept visiting them, the more you've noticed how odd they've been acting.

they won't let you leave easily, even if it is past the closing time.

azul has been trying to get you to sign a contract, claiming it was harmless and he would never cheat a "friend".

jade has been trying to feed you mushrooms that he found during his hike, claiming that they were safe to eat and he even added special ingredients. only the seven knows what drug or potions he has been pouring into his meals made for you.

floyd was also trying to feed you meals made by him, as well as trying to drag you around wherever he went, disguising it as a form of hang out despite his "threats" on your attempts to leave.

maybe they just want to spend time with me, is what you thought, but day by day, you have been slowly proven wrong with how close they are at times.

you snapped out of your thoughts the moment floyd served your dishes and drinks. your friend was ecstatic as they quickly dug into their meal, while you looked up to see floyd smiling down at you in an innocent way, but there was a hint of something ominous behind that smile.

"here's your food, shrimpy!"

you gulped and mumbled, "thanks..." looking down at your meal, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. it looks exactly as it does on the menu, and the drinks did not have anything suspicious on them — or at least, that's what you think.

your friend was happily enjoying their food. seeing how relaxed they were gave you relief - at least the food or drink wasn't drugged. a soft sigh left your lips as you started to have your meal, enjoying the taste despite the unreadable expression on your face.

you can feel their stares. their eyes watch you with a daunting gaze, and even if they were not in your peripheral vision, you knew they were settled by the bar, watching you like a hawk.

you could have called them out or reported their suspicious behaviour, no? but why? they were your friends. they would never do anything to harm you. you weren't sure if it was some form of coping mechanism or if you still held some trust for them deep down, but all you knew was the guilt that continuously seeped into your mind at the thought of reporting their behaviour to the faculty staff.

you were afraid, but you still trust them. azul always had a way of messing with your psychological thoughts, and the twins were there to back him up and manipulate you into thinking they were only being friendly.

"oh! i left my phone at the campus, i'll be right back!" your friend spoke as they realised their cellular device was not on their person. they quickly stood up and left the lounge, leaving you alone as you tried to reach out to them, "wait-!"

but they were long too gone.

damn it.

you stayed silent for a moment, thoughts swirling in your mind as you looked back at the meal that you have been consuming for the past few minutes now.

your gaze then went to the bar to see them smiling at you. drat. you made eye contact with them and that was more than enough of an invitation to approach you.

"it seems your friend left rather abruptly," noted azul as he sat beside you with that suspicious smile of his. you merely hummed in response as floyd sat on your other side and spoke in a rather enthusiastic voice, "shrimpy! did you like the food?"

"it tastes great..." you replied, avoiding eye contact as you continued to stare at your half-eaten meal. floyd was pleased to hear you say this, making him pat your back before pulling you in for an asphyxiating hug.

you tried to pull away, patting his arm as a signal to let go and that you wanted to breathe. however, he was not letting you off, which made jade sigh as he spoke to his brother, "floyd, you are suffocating the prefect."

"oh no~ oops~!" replied floyd as he released you, but you knew he was not genuine in that little 'oops' of his. as soon as he released you, you started to feel lightheaded. your vision was blurring and doubling, and your head was throbbing in pain as you leaned on the table, unable to keep your eyes open.

the trio merely smiled as azul held you close to him and whispered, "you appear to be tired... it's alright, rest here... this is your home now..."

unable to fight back or stay awake, your eyes fluttered shut and your consciousness started slipping as you fell into a deep state of sleep. the last words you heard gave you a sense of fear, but you were now too powerless to do anything.

"we won't hurt you. we're your friends..."

━ 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙖 ━

"but...!"

"i need to head back to my dorm, kalim..." you spoke once again, wanting to return back to your room to sleep after the energy-consuming party you just had in scarabia mere moments ago.

"we have guest rooms here!" reasoned kalim, not wanting to let you leave.

"as much as i wanted to stay, i can't... sorry..."

there was no way you'd stay in that guest room after the incident. a frown found its way to kalim's lips as jamil sighed, "kalim... we can't force them to stay." with a defeated expression, kalim unwrapped his arms around you as he spoke to you, "will you come back tomorrow?"

relief. that was what you felt the moment you thought you would be back in your room. as much as you loved hanging out with them, you wanted a shut-eye too. "yeah, of course! i'll see you tomorrow," you replied before waving goodbye to the two and leaving their dorm.

the moment you arrived at your dormitory, the first thing you greeted were your pillows. you had quickly fallen asleep and thought of nothing but getting the rest you needed. it was the weekend tomorrow, so you were free to sleep in as much as you wanted.

the next day came by quickly and you were invited for lunch at scarabia. you loved the meals they served and their hospitality has made you feel more at home than you ever felt in this academy.

everything was going splendidly. the meals were fantastic, the drinks were refreshing, and the atmosphere was lively - the perfect scenario for a weekend lunch with friends, no?

you spent hours after lunch with them; studying, reading, sharing stories about school experiences and personal lives, and whatnot. however, you started to feel drowsy around the afternoon, wanting to take a nap to preserve your energy and rest.

you have become drowsy several times lately.

of course, you thought nothing of it. you were just exhausted from all the responsibilities you had to tackle, nothing out of the ordinary. kalim seemed to have noticed your drowsy state and quickly gave you one of the sofa pillows nearby. without another word, you grabbed the pillow and laid your head on it, passing out almost immediately.

minutes turned into hours and you had woken up from your nap - although, sleep was a better term as you had been out for hours now. rubbing the drowsiness from your eyes, you let out a soft yawn and sat up, feeling the soft mattress underneath as you looked at the spot you were lying on in confusion.

'a bed? where am i...?'

you thought you were back at your dorm, but the interior was completely different from your room. that's when it hit you, you were in one of scarabia's dormitory rooms. you quickly got out of bed and ran to the door, trying to open it only to find it unlocked.

"shit..." you muttered under your breath as you looked around the room for its key, but it was nowhere to be found. you quickly banged on the door, hoping someone was outside to hear you, "is anyone there?!"

it was silent for a while until you heard a jingle of keys from the other side of the door, making you sigh in relief as you thought you were about to witness freedom, "oh thank goodness... please open the door!"

the sounds of the keys were giving you a sense of relief, and you thought they were about to unlock the door. however, only silence followed and no other sound was heard. what was going on?

"hello? is anyone there?" you called out once more, banging on the door, "please unlock the door! i don't see the key in here!"

then, a chuckle was heard on the other side of the door, giving you a sense of fear at the thought of someone purposefully locking you in here.

"you should take a rest, prefect."

that was jamil's voice. you knocked on the door again as you pleaded for your freedom, "jamil? please unlock the door!"

"you ought to keep it down. people are sleeping. we wouldn't want to wake them up now, would we?" spoke jamil as he let out a sigh, "you'll be staying in there. this is your new home now... good night."

his footsteps then started to fade as you continued banging on the door, "jamil?! let me out!!! come back!!! kalim! please!" all the relentless knocking and banging on the door were for naught as no one came to your aid.

days have passed and you barely remember much of what had happened, but you had vague memories of wanting to escape this wretched dormitory, then making the sudden decision to stay as if you were being hypnotized. they had fed you, entertained you, and took care of you during your whole stay.

they've been nothing but good to you! why would you want to leave?

why do you feel as if you are being manipulated to stay?

━ 𝙥𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙤𝙧𝙚 ━

you were frozen in place for a few hours now with only epel in the room as he got himself busy with carving apples. if you hadn't been cursed by vil's unique magic, you would have run out of the door and never looked back at this dormitory.

but alas, you have fallen for his trick and bit into an apple slice that he had cursed without your knowledge. now, you were stuck seated on this couch settled in their lounge.

"epel...?"

you called out, making the first-year pause his carving as he looked at you. how could he still look at you with an innocent gaze after being involved in your captivity?

"mm?"

"how long 'till vil's spell wears off?" you asked, hoping it would be sooner rather than later.

"30 minutes," replied epel before tilting his head, "you are not looking to escape now, are 'ya?" you quickly shook your head in response, giving him a fake enthusiastic smile, "no! no! not at all!"

"lying won't help you, chéri(e)."

you quickly turned quiet at the sound of rook's voice. his footsteps paired with another one gave you a hint that vil was in the room as well, walking towards you before the dormitory head stood before you, leaning down as he held your cheek as if to inspect your face.

rook stood beside vil as he spoke patronisingly, "mon dieu! those tear stains on your face pain my heart. why the tears?" you glared at rook as he knew exactly why you were feeling this way, but he merely smiled at you.

"we fed you, cared for you, gifted you luxurious things, helped you in all your assignments, and so much more. why are you being ungrateful?" spoke vil as he narrowed his gaze at you with a frown. you did not say a word in response, not wanting to raise their irritation and anger towards you.

vil sighed at your lack of response, "stop acting like a spoiled child."

"then set me free."

you demanded freedom, hoping they would grant it to you despite the low chances. they have given you everything, so why can't they give you the freedom you desire?

"you know we can't do that," spoke vil as you felt his hand on your cheek, caressing it with his thumb ever so slightly to give you a sense of comfort, "it's dangerous and there is nothing out there that will satisfy and love you."

"my friends—"

"your friends have long forgotten you, dear," replied vil as he cut you off, "in fact, they are glad that you are no longer interacting with them..."

you did not want to believe him, but the way he spoke to you in such a tone with that comforting caress made you stay quiet. epel and rook then sat beside you while vil gently started playing with your locks, a glint of satisfaction was evident in his eyes but you did not notice them as you were staring at the ground.

'hah! just say the right words and you'll fall into our trap once again... how naive...'

© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[jymwahuwu]

HSR ramblings navigation

These are a collection of my replies, ramblings, and thirsts content. Some were not individually warned because were just shared within the blog at the time. Here's a lot of DARK CONTENT, including but not limited to:

yandere, non-con/dub-con, harassment, breaking into reader's home, coercion, abuse of power, forced pregnancy, etc.

Please note that these may be very short / sweet / too dark. Be careful not to get triggered.

Jing Yuan:

yan!jing yuan who takes… provocative pictures of himself to send to reader, but the caption is just so wholesome

what if we exit Xianzhou luofu to lets say another Xianzhou ship

yandere! jing yuan is actually tolerant

What if darling was a hybrid or something (Lion,leopard, something related to his pet)

Jing Yuan is definitely lucid as a yandere but acts like he isn't

Jing Yuan’s requirements for a good wife

Taking a nap with Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan appreciates your obedience

what would happen if Jing Yuan's hologram and your hologram fuck?

jing yuan celebrates your birthday

jing yuan keeps harassing you even if you change your phone number

praise him for being handsome and beautiful

will jing yuan allow you to visit your relatives?

what if darling was a hybrid or something (Lion,leopard, something related to his pet)

need Jing Yuan to sit down and tell me what he expects from me

Why does Jing Yuan want darling who likes to do housework, when there are servants in the general's mansion?

you need jing yuan to be your "fake boyfriend" to avoid the harasser

big data partner matching service

Jing Yuan with a darling who’s in charge of a civilization

what if Jing Yuan wronged darling in the past

If we are stubborn and talk back often, Jing Yuan has a "special response"

jing yuan and darling who don’t care if he is yandere

obsessed jing yuan x idol reader + additional descriptions

CW: yandere, non-con, kidnapping, recordings without permission

Use debt to stop some of Jing Yuan’s clingy behaviors

Jing Yuan may have posted your missing person notices all over the streets of Xianzhou

taking advantage of the fact that you don't understand the Xianzhou language and characters

how unethical and inappropriate it may be to fall in love with a short-lived species

series (living with jing yuan):

jing yuan eats ice cream with us in summer

jing yuan can put us on his shoulders

general is choosing beautiful flowers for us at the florist

jing yuan supervises you to complete jing yuan x you fanfic creation

series (harassment):

jing yuan masturbates to you while you sleep

about underwear

jing yuan slowly molests a beta darling

jing yuan does something shameless and sweet and we just can’t do anything about it

jing yuan fantasizing over reader eating a popsicle

received dick photo from jing yuan

series (thirsts about updated plot):

darling from Interastral Peace Corporation was forced to serve jing yuan

CW: dub-con, abuse of power

lustful heliobu possessed you

Blade:

blade’s duality

quietly create a pair of "couple swords"

Dan Heng:

want him to tie you up and humiliate

dan heng wants you to help keep warm

yandere Dan Heng noticing that his darling started to refuse eating for her freedom

Dan Heng use his tail to express more love language

traditional darling hopes that dan heng can follow traditional etiquette and hold a wedding

Dan Feng:

yandere!Dan Heng and isekai!immortal!hydra!human form!reader

Dan Feng wants you to wear more conservative clothes

about phoenix

Dan Feng and his moon rabbit darling

Dan Feng taming/disciplining a 'savage' draconic darling

Multiple characters:

What if reader who's "causal" clothes are revealing?

you are dan feng’s immortal concubine (dan feng, jing yuan and ying xing share you together)

genshin darling transported to hsr universe

crossdressing!reader in the military

CW: yandere, non-con, sexist, forced pregnancy, war (mentioned but not described), (implied) gangbang

The impact of blade, jing yuan and dan feng on your social life

their kinks

genshin! darling has tight clothes to wear

dan feng and jing yuan’s parenting style

[godnectar]

I think your Yandere!Florist is one of my favorites! Is it bad that I imagine that the oils they make for their darling could be used for.. other purposes? Thank you so much for the lovely feast!

[umitsy]

warnings: cursing, mentions of reader being abused by their partner, bruises, reader gets humiliated by their ex-partner, stalking, love obsession

reader's g/n

➻ Yandere rude florist! who only takes this job until his father who got sick recovers.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who'd deadass tell the costumers to fuck off if they even spend more than twenty seconds deciding what to buy.

➻ Yandere rude florist! whose mother hires you to help him to do not scare completely all the people his father's reputation gathered around the small city.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who'd now have to bear with old people telling both of you what a cute couple you make while you're blushing in embarrassment and brushing of their comments to charge them off.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who'd be absolutely straight forward with any story about a familiar being garbage to you when he asks about your day once you arrive to start with your shift.

➻ Yandere rude florist! whose suspicions of you being abused by your partner are confirmed one day you texted him you could not make it after some days of appearing slightly limping and long-sleeved shirts to cover bruises he saw when you put on your apron to work and maybe or not when he stalked you.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who couldn't bear seeing you being such a kind person along a piece of shit as your partner, so hed decide to have a little chat with them after you brought them one day to see your latest art works and they publicly and mindlessly humiliated you then and there.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who'd be innecesarly surprised when another day you come completely devastated saying your partner had gone missing last night.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who'd straight forward tell you they're better off, and it didn't really matter because you'll find someone billions of times better than them, like him.

➻ Yandere rude florist! who'd try to find a way to spend more time with you once his father goes back to work.

➹ "Wʜᴀᴛ ᴀᴍ I ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴜsᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴀ.ᴍ.? Wʜᴀᴛ? Aʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ᴏғғɪᴄᴇʀ ɴᴏᴡ? I-I ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ʏᴀ' 'ᴋ? As ɪғ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏ-ᴡᴏʀᴋᴇʀs ᴅᴀᴍɴ. Yᴇs, ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴊᴏʙ sᴏʟɪᴄɪᴛᴜᴅᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴜsᴇ's ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. Sᴛᴏᴘ ᴀsᴋɪɴɢ sᴏ ᴍᴀɴʏ sᴛᴜᴘɪᴅ ϙᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ!".