#also not being able to raise my arms too much means i've neglected my hair god i feel sick

[gender-euphowrya]

i think i'm already starting to have sensation back on my chest which is. Odd

[sweettodo]

a simple competition.

⟿ Hisoka Morow x freader x Chrollo Lucilfer

Includes : threesome, toys, smut, not even a good plot but yk, consumption of alcohol

word count : 2,7k.

my last little surprise for you guys, some more threesum action .... here you go puppies. THX FOR 300 [ almost 400 rn :) ] <3 !!! your favorite men at your disposal... [y/n is aged].

fun fact, I'm eating takis rn, are these spicier than usual or am I imagining things ? i’m also watching ‘malcolm and marie’ AMAZING movie, i highly suggest it, the dynamic of the two is so detailed, such a good movie.

••

Maybe it wasn't a clever idea to drink, but once you attained that nice and warm sensation in your gut, there was certainly nothing stopping you from finishing the already half-empty bottle of pink whitney.

Laying sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling as the room slowly spins around you. Content and relaxed with your position.

It wasn't your fault, Pakudona reassuring you that it wouldn't hurt to have a little fun tonight, that Chrollo wouldn't heed if you crashed here for the night, he was tipsy, manspreading on the other end of the couch, eyes puffy and glossed over, enjoying the quiet.

Music was playing thirty minutes previously, but as the night went on, one by one, the others hit the road to sleep off their intoxication, it was already past midnight.

One person had yet to leave, that was Hisoka... of course.

He wandered back into the living room, plopping down next to you and your friend on the couch, "leaving anytime soon? Y/n?"

You shook your head, "staying the night." Hisoka's arched eyebrows rise, a little smile tugging at the niche of his mouth.

"Is that so?" Chrollo sits up, staring at the kaleidoscopic man, a sarcastic undergone on his tongue.

"That's what happens when you drive here, and drink" You nod, "although I didn't quite intend on you staying the night, Morow." He hums, Hisoka pinches the corner of the thin card, waving it back and forth teasingly.

"I can't let you have our playmate all to yourself," you roll your eyes.

"It's not like that," you mutter, staring the magician in the eyes, "I couldn't leave if I wanted to."

"That is true," Chrollo interjects, "that doesn't mean you want to leave though, is it?" you shrug.

"No, I wanna stay, got an issue with that?" you ask, he shakes his head.

"Of course not- although, I suppose Hisoka would be better off on his way."

You estimated things would only get progressively worse from here, the moment Hisoka's bloodlust began to fill the air, you felt this was your cue; before you're able to leave the room, Hisoka's hand is fastened around your wrist, sitting you back down.

"Oh, you can't flee now," dread fills your face, "come on, we might as well finish the conversation."

You and Chrollo both knew what he was talking about. No matter how petty or pathetic, it appears to be that the rivalry between the two never seemed to subside, even drunk.

"Go on, since you have so much to say."

"Am I wrong for thinking my friend is a pretty girl? I seem to remind her more than you do."

"You seem to think you own her, it's pitiful honestly, " Blushing, you look down at your thighs, "do you think she's pretty, Chrollo?"

"I do. I think she knows that right?" you peek up at him, he gleams and tilts his head.

"Look at her, my, you must like us flattering you." You shake your head.

"That's because you neglect to tell her more often, does Chrollo ever call you pretty?" with Hisoka pushing Chrollo's every button, tensions were surging, both men now at the edge of their seats- literally.

"No, he doesn't," you speak, the magician letting out a deep chuckle, you felt like you were being scrutinized, the eyes burning into you felt poisonous and dour, you felt minuscule compared to them.

"I could do so much better than call you pretty, right kitten?" your heart sinks to your stomach, gulping hard. It was too hard to look at them in the eyes as you sunk further into the couch.

"Are we making you nervous?"

The inquiry continues.

"Yeah- you are." You retort, "you guys are talking about me like I'm not here."

"Then let's ask the lady herself, y/n." Looking up to meet Hisoka's gaze, "who do you think could take better care of you?"

Heart pounding out of your chest, your stomach filled with butterflies, "I- I don't know, I've never thought about it." Laughing, you look to see Chrollo, who's standing to his feet.

"I think I know a way to help you decide," smug smile peeking from his face, "unless you don't want to?"

A single nod is all they needed to know, Hisoka standing to his feet, seeing how you sat on the couch as still as a statue, "please don't be so tense, you know how good we are to you." Hisoka slowly picks up your hand.

He's steering you to your feet, "what do you have in mind, Chrollo?" the man leading you two upstairs.

"I think I have something that'll work out for all of us."

The dress you wore to this get-together now seemed like you were exposed, bare, and vulnerable, you knew what their agenda was, you didn't fancy the idea of being the center of attention.

Chrollo slowly clicking open his door, walking in, and promptly turning on the light, you're led to the side of his king-sized bed, his room was both contemporary and warm, comforting feeling; the walls a deep vermilion, the sheets plush, soft and black tones.

"We should leave it up to our little kitten to decide," the buttons on his shirt slowly coming undone, stopping at his sternum.

"What do you think, Morow?" Hisoka looks at you with low eyes.

"I'll go first."

Chrollo stalks towards you, sitting there falling apart at the seams, Chrollo's large and reaching behind your ear, thumb gently caressing your jawline, side to side, "you okay with this? Sweetheart?" you nod, the name sending jolts between your thighs.

Hisoka's rubbing your bare leg, sitting next to you on the mattress as his fingertips trail up and down, his hand stopping inside your thigh and pressing a leg open, Chrollo clasping your other knee and you lay on your back

"I'll get some time to please you, Hisoka gets the same when I'm done, yes?"

You're breathless, Hisoka grabbing you and pressing your back against him, his hands pinching the seams of your dress, "cute little dress- you should wear it more often for me." He hums, rolling it up, your thighs buckled together while lifting your back off the mattress, the dress sitting bunched up at your hips, the panties you wore sitting on your hips.

"My, who knew she would wear something so- revealing." Arms linking around your own, Hisoka keeps you completely locked in place.

"Did you wear these for me? Kitten?" Chrollo asks, shaking your head no.

Tugging at the little strong which hardly kept you covered, “I'll keep these, yeah?” you nod, the pants of Chrollo’s fingers barely ticking you, brushing against your already anxious body.

"Stay still for me, okay?"

"Okay." You breathe.

Hand leaning over past Hisoka, he's opening up the drawer beside his bed.

Your eyes widen at the sight of the little pink toy, compact in nothing bugger than four inches long, he sits on the bed in front of you, bringing the little object to your core.

He switches it on the lowest setting, the only noise in the room was the quiet buzzing of the vibrator as he barely touches your clit, the tiniest contact with the toy having your chest rise and fall, "keep these open for me, okay princess?" his fingers hook below your panties, pulling them down and placing them beside him.

"Such a pretty pussy, don't you think, Hisoka?" You're gnawing on your bottom lip from the teasing little touches with the toy, he was doing this on purpose; your legs laid open, the other man holding your arms to where you couldn't do anything if you wanted to.

"It is, I'm sure it's even prettier when it's cumming,"

Chrollo finally presses the vibrator onto your clit, he leans over your cunt, spitting, your mouth opens, the saliva hardly cooling your excited cunt.

He uses his free hand to finish unbuttoning his shirt, dropping it on the floor, he leans down leveled to your cunt, holding your leg over his broad and muscular shoulder, his tongue licking a stripe towards your occupied clit. Your body shakes, digging further into Hisoka's chest, he holds you tighter.

"Fuck, p-please!" you gasp, wanting to dig your hands into his hair, thrashing against Hisoka's arms, "let me touch-" your pleads fall on deaf ears, Chrollo’s tongue swirling into you in sinful ways, your legs twitching, the toy too much to handle.

The euphoric feeling of the overstimulation sending a pool of cream right onto Chrollo's tongue, lapping up every drop of you.

You were dizzy, Chrollo drinking up all of your essences, his hand pressed into your thigh to keep you from buckling onto him, your back grinding against the pressure of Hisoka's growing erection, his hands had grabbed the straps of your dress, one by one pulling them down and releasing your tits from the braless dress.

It's almost too good to be true- the man spending a dangerous amount of time eating your pussy like it was his very last meal, tasting everything he possibly could, the vibrator maintaining its spot in little circles around your swollen and screaming clit.

Ripping orgasm after orgasm out of your body, you're dripping sweat, he pulls off of you, your cum covering his reddish swollen lips, chin soaked. You looked a wreck, makeup streaming down your face, legs numb, his head coming to yours, he kisses your panting lips, releasing you from Hisoka.

The taste of your cum filling your mouth, his tongue licking past your bottom lip and into your mouth.

"Take this off." tearing at your dress, peeling it over your head, unzipping his pants, "you're gonna straddle me and stay still, is that okay with you, kitty?"

"O-okay, what about Hisoka?" Grabbing your hips, you straddle him. He raises you a little.

"He's gonna watch me make you cum a few more times-" hissing in the air as he assists you to slide down onto his cock, the stretch was unbearable, but you push through, trying not to slouch over in pain.

"-hurts, bad!" You sob.

"You take me so well, it'll only hurt for a second, promise."

His hand's move, one to your waist and one loosely around your throat as he holds you up to get a better grip on your already weakened body.

Keeping eye contact with Hisoka as your body is demolished by the man beneath you, eyes boring into you seductively, captivated by your mess of a face.

You felt as if you were being torn in half, crying out his name as he knew just how to fuck you; fucking your pussy just right.

Fucking you so hard you were going numb.

"Gonna cum! Gonna cum again!" you screamed, head falling back as you searched desperately for air, Chrollo rolling his hips into you as he released you, slumping to his chest, his chest stick from sweat.

"You wanna be filled with my seed, kitty?" Nodding in his shoulder.

"Please fill me- I want your cum,"

The feeling of his cum seeping down his cock and deep into your beaten-up cunt, his breath heavy against your ear.

You sit up, large arms wrapping from behind you and pulling you off of your straddle, Chrollo getting off the bed to clean himself off as Hisoka sits you on the bed, tucking your hair behind your ear gently, smiling as you look up at him, blurred eyes.

"My my, I don't think she can handle it, or can you?"

"I-I can, trust me." He smiles, pleased with your answer, his soft hands taking up your arm before leaning you back, onto your back, he was sweaty, so his shirt was clinging to his body, his hair was messily draped over his shoulders, pulling his tie loose while standing between your open legs, "let me see your wrists, princess."

He's leading you against the bed frame, linking your hands together and finishing off the knot around the post of the frame, the man getting on his knees between your legs, letting his shirt hand open as his hands work at his slacks, unbuckling the leather belt and tossing it to the side, "you look so innocent, tied up and quiet as a mouse, even after you just got fucked out," he pushes down his pants, erection throbbing from underneath his underwear.

The area between your legs throb, he was beyond ready to feel your walls tighten around him, he was ready to hear you begging for more.

He needed to one-up Chrollo.

He lifts your hips, your legs propped against his thighs while remaining restrained, his tip aiming into you accordingly before pushing into your beaten cunt.

His arm propped, flexing as he grips the headboard, drilling into your cunt with no tenderness, he spares you no pain as he ruts into you, ready to split you in half the instant he saw you spilling cum at the hands of his rival.

The size of him left you perplexed, the way he was splitting you open while bringing you to an indescribable state of heaven had you a sloppy mess, the thick cock he had with his veins filling in the little nerves you had yet to feel seconds earlier. He filled you, and he filled you well.

Hisoka fucks you until your head is blank, eyes seeing white, one of his hands gripping your hip, keeping you from laying fully on your back.

You try to cry put to him, and he notices.

He slows only slightly, rolling his hips back and forth into you so you can speak, "s-so good, it feels so good!"

Each rut of his hips sends you into oblivion, the way his hips bumped and clashed against your body left you spitting out a mantra of his name, Chrollo inches away from you, rolling your perked nipple in between his fingers, sending chills up your body.

Hisoka brings his eyes to you, "joining in, my friend?" Chrollo pulls his hand back, you almost find yourself whining.

“Did I fuck you better, y/n?” Chrollo taunts, his lips barely pressing against the life of your ear, “is Hisoka making you feel good?” Hisoka's beautiful golden eyes stalk you, waiting for your answer; stabbing right into your soul.

“Answer him, go on, kitten; did he fill you as good as I am?”

The questions were throwing you in for a loop, your stomach twisted, digging your head back deeper into the pillow of Chrollo’s bed.

“Fill me, please- daddy.” You cry, you longed to touch him, to feel his soft hair as he pummeled into you; you tugged on your wrists softly, already weak, the tied limbs going numb and tingling.

Before you know it, another orgasm is torn out of you; groaning out as you tightened and clenching around him, body once again convulsing, legs tightening around Hisoka’s waist. Each time they made you cum, the more came spilling from your cunt, it was almost unreal how much the bed was soaked, how soaked your thighs were, Hisoka’s pants being stained in the process.

This pretty little soaked pussy, sucking me in so good.” Panting, his head falls back, his dick quaver’s while his thrusts become more staggered, hand gripping tighter around your already sore hip.

His seed bathes both you and his cock, hips sputtering as he slowly slips out of your abused cunt. your head spinning, a panting mess at you blink and stare at the ceiling.

You could barely move, the men in the room throwing on clothes, hearing zippers, you lift your head.

Chrollo hands you a blanket, draping it over your body.

Sitting up, the blanket around you, you look at the two men who were fiddling around doing nothing but looming around the room.

While Hisoka buttons up his shirt, he tilts his head towards you, “tired, princess?” you nod.

A devious smirk dances on your lips, they look at you confused, “perhaps though, I might need another round, you know- to decide who was better.”

[scuttle-buttle]

What's One More?

WC: 3204

Rated: M

Tags: brief mentions of crime/mental illness/child abuse and neglect/substance addiction/theft, fluff, family dynamics, mentions of aging, mentions of difficult pregnancy, softness, anxiety attack

🧠

The harsh vibrating of a phone on the nightstand breaks your slumber. Still half asleep you toss your arm back to thump against your sleeping husband's side. With a groan he answers. You try to settle back into your pillow and the warmth of the blanket. Whoever has the balls to call at this hour has another thing coming - but later because your priority is going back to sleep.

He can't have been on the call more than fifteen seconds before he sits up in bed suddenly, turning on the bedside lamp; his movements grab your attention. You roll over. The light blinds you and you rub at your eyes to adjust. You can't make out what's being said. Looking at the clock to see that it's barely 4 am you know something bad has happened. Quietly you slip out from the covers.

Making your way down the hall you peek into your daughter's room, grateful that she's still fast asleep. Her soft snores punctuate the calm. Your nerves abate knowing she’s safe. By the time you get back to the bedroom Laszlo is up and getting dressed. "What's going on?"

He doesn't answer at first. You wait until he's finished buttoning his shirt to ask again. "Sara was called to consult on a triple homicide case - she's asked for me to come down to the police station. I don't know much yet, but it's something involving a young boy and she wants me to speak with him."

“Did he…?”

“No. He was not directly involved, that much we know.”

You nod, leaning against the door frame. This wasn't the first time that Laszlo had been called in by law enforcement and social services to assist with children and teens that needed psychological help. He had become more active around the time you graduated with your doctorate. After Sophia was born Laszlo helped fund an after school program for kids that focused on support for mental health and behavioral issues. He was so passionate about being able to help these kids. But it was never at this ungodly hour. "You'll call or something when you know what's up?" you ask through a yawn.

"Of course, Bärchen." He gives you a chaste peck. Gently he guides you back towards your bed and sits you down. "Go back to sleep, there's no need to worry. I love you." With that he left.

Your sleep is fitful with him gone. You worry over things that you aren't even aware of, over who is hurt, over how severe a situation it could be to have been called in the middle of the night, over the poor boy that needs Laszlo’s help. When your daughter tiptoes into the room around 6 you welcome her into the bed with open arms.

"Why are you up, baby bug?"

"Where's Papa?" She climbs up on his side of the bed and rubs his cold pillow. On her face is a deep frown.

"He had to go help some very important people early this morning. He'll be back to see you soon, I promise."

"I miss him. He always helps me with my shoes."

You can't help the smile that crosses your face. "I know, baby. But it's still early so let's take a nap before we have to get ready, hmm?" The two of you snuggle under the covers. With her curled into your side you do find rest, even for the short time before your alarm chimes.

The day moves sluggish as you wait for word from your husband. Little work was to be done today at the museum, so there wasn't much to keep your mind off the wondering. You considered calling. You considered texting. But you knew that when the time was right he would let you know. No news is good news, you think.

Finally the day came to a close. You picked up Sophia and stopped by the store on the way home to grab supplies for dinner. She insisted that she carry one of the bags inside - little miss independent that she was. “Careful not to drop it, okay? Use those muscles of yours to hold the bag tight.”

“Mama I know, I help Papa carry all the time,” she explains matter-of-factly.

The townhouse is quiet as you begin to unpack. You do a quick glance into the dining room and parlor to no avail. "Laz, honey? You home?" A few seconds later you hear movement from the stairs.

Your husband rounds the corner into the kitchen, swooping down to scoop your daughter into his left arm, peppering her face in exaggerated smooches. Her giggles light up the room from the dim atmosphere. He perches her on his hip. “How was your day my little dove?”

“So good Papa - I practiced my counting today at school. I can get the biggest in the class! Mommy said I must be the most smartest," she prattles on.

“Wunderbar!” he praises her before turning to you. “I didn't hear you come in." Laszlo kisses you.

Pinning him with a look you say "you also didn't call me today? You said you would and I've been worried all day."

Sophia crosses her arms and harrumphs from her father's hip; "me too Papa." He quirks an eyebrow at her before speaking.

"Yes… there is something I wished to speak with you on but didn't think it was suitable for the phone." You raise your own brows but continue to put away groceries. "I do not wish to discuss certain aspects of the case in present company-" he nods towards Sophia minutely "-but we do have a houseguest for the foreseeable future."

"Oh?" Your brows dip in confusion. This is not what you were expecting.

Laszlo peeks around the doorway and calls out "Stevie, would you come join us in the kitchen please."

Stevie? You don't know a Stevie...

A moment later a lanky boy with scruffy dark blond hair shuffles into the room. He can't be anymore than 15. His clothes are too big on him and his shoes are worn beyond belief; nevertheless he gives you a slight smile. “This is Stevie Taggert, he’s going to be staying here with us in the guest room for now.”

“Good evening Mrs. Kreizler,” the boy says nervously, his voice cracking.

You spare a look at your husband before turning to the teenager with a smile. “Ah, no need for that, kid. You can just call me by my name instead. And welcome to our home. You like spaghetti?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Awesome! And I’m certainly not old enough to be a ma’am,” you give him a wink. You set up a pot to boil the water for the pasta. Laszlo excused himself to spend some time with Sophia, leaving you and Stevie in the kitchen.

He clears his throat behind you. “Would um… is there anything I can do to help?”

"I would love that, thank you."

The two of you get to work on making dinner. Stevie doesn’t say too much, but he is very polite and does his best to be useful. Once the food is nearly finished your family has returned ready to eat. You send Stevie and Sophia to set the table.

“Should I be worried?” you ask Laszlo quietly, watching the doorway the two left through.

“I don’t think so. I just felt that I would rather he have a familiar face to adjust with instead of being placed in a group home like many end up.”

You study his face. “You’ve taken a liking to him haven’t you?”

“Well…" his face reddens at your question. "He reminds me a bit of myself when I was his age.” The conversation is cut short by the kids returning.

The rest of dinner and the evening goes smoothly. You make it a point to not bring up any questions that could trigger the teenager, especially before you’ve spoken with Laszlo about the situation at hand. When Stevie nearly eats his weight in pasta you say nothing, wondering how long it's been since he's had a good home cooked meal. He insists on helping clean up the dishes afterwards. Without even knowing what the boy has gone through your heart aches for him.

You set him up in the small renovated basement downstairs while Laszlo puts Sophia to bed. Handing him one of your husband’s old Harvard t-shirts to sleep in you tell him “I’m sorry you’ll be down here by yourself, but if you need us for anything don’t be afraid to come get us - no matter what time it is, okay? And if you get cold there’s an extra blanket right here for you. I know it's July but….” you shrug. “Tomorrow after I get home from work we can go to the store and get you some stuff to use, some more clothes, that kinda thing.”

“Yes ma’am.” At the teasing look you give him his ears burn red with his mumbled “right sorry.”

“Alright Stevie. We’ll see you in the morning, sleep well.”

Laszlo is in bed reading when you enter the room. Nothing is said as you ready yourself for bed. Slipping under the covers you face him. He sighs and closes his book.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I became caught up in the day and only arrived home with Stevie maybe half an hour before you did.” He sighs a second time. “Most of the case I cannot talk about, but what I can say is he was living with his mentally ill father, whom was also an addict. He missed the last few weeks of the school year and has been regularly stealing food to get by. He has no other family. I just… it didn’t feel right to let him process his experiences away from someone properly trained to deal with these sorts of things, in addition to how traumatic entering foster care at his age can be. I spoke with those in social services and was granted temporary custody until we find another more permanent solution.”

“Of course.”

He takes hold of your hand. “You aren’t upset with me?”

“I mean it would’ve been nice to have a bit more warning… but I get it. He can stay as long as he needs to. He’s a sweet kid,” you reassure him. “I told him that I would take him shopping after work tomorrow, so if you could pick up Soph from preschool that would be great.”

“Perhaps instead we can all go? I was thinking that I would bring him to the university with me so that he’s not alone all day. You could get her and then we could meet somewhere, get dinner afterwards?”

You lean closer to him to curl around his arm and rest your head on his shoulder. He always thought so much about others, especially children. Laszlo had such a heart of gold and it honestly left you in awe of just how much he was willing to give so that others could find peace and happiness. Like the older he got the more he had to give. The thought warms you. “How are you literally the best person I know? And to think you used to be so worried about being able to be a good father and now you’re the best of all of us.” He huffs a little as you nuzzle into his chest.

“I have you to thank for that, Bärchen.” He drops a kiss to your head. “But it’s getting late and I’ve been up all day. We should get some sleep.”

Soon after you're both dreaming.

___

Stevie had been with you for three weeks. It only took him a few days to start to settle in, and you discovered that he was quick with his wit and far smarter than he let on. He was a little bit of a sarcastic smart-ass at times, but all in good nature. He was endlessly entertaining. Laszlo sat down with him almost everyday to talk about what he was feeling, the things he experienced, and ways to deal with the loss of his family. Already you both saw improvement.

Even Sophia got on well with him. Most teenage boys wanted nothing to do with little kids, let alone a 4 year old that loved playing 'spaceship barbie'. But not Stevie. On his fifth day you'd found him sat on the floor playing with her and going along with her childlike imagination. When she insisted he play the barbie that needed saving he went along with it, high pitched voice and everything. He even encouraged her to pick up her toys before bed - a feat you and your husband struggled with at times. It struck you how much Stevie became a big brother of sorts to her.

Laszlo grew even more fond of the boy. He wasn't really one for TV, but every evening he sat and watched some show on Netflix about racing with the teen and didn't complain once. Laszlo had tried to explain the role of adrenaline in racing drivers as a psychological function, but Stevie just brushed it off and said it was the driving so fast that made it "cool".

The two did bond over an unlikely subject - punk rock. When you got home from work two weeks into his stay and heard the music blasting in the parlor you worried someone had broken in. Whipping into the room you saw Laszlo in his chair tapping his foot to the intense guitar and singing; Stevie nodded along to the music as he held an old album cover. It didn't take long for Sophia to start jumping along to the music too.

"What is this?" You yelled out over the bass - you couldn't recognize it and it clearly wasn't English.

"Die Toten Hosen, a band I listened to growing up in Germany. Stevie found the record and asked to listen."

"Listen? I think you mean blow out your eardrums!" Even with needing to shout to be heard you had to laugh at the situation. How your husband had a secret love for German punk you'll never know; yet you would never let him live it down.

And when Stevie came and woke you both up in tears three nights ago you made him hot chocolate while Laszlo sat down with him. He confessed that he had never been treated or cared for like he was in your home. How he wished he could stay because he felt wanted. Your heart broke for the boy. To be so young and so lost, craving someone to simply be there for him.

Yet everyday he grew more open. He broke out of his shell. He had goals and ambitions; he wanted to amount to something bigger than he had thought he ever could. It almost shocked you at how much fire was within him.

At how much he fit in with your little family.

At how it was like he was meant to be there.

___

Laszlo was oddly quiet when you got home. Sophia had run off to find Stevie, and you tracked your husband down to his office. He listened as you talked about your day for a good ten minutes; he said almost nothing the whole conversation.

You move closer to him. Placing the back of your hand to his forehead you check to see if he's feverish or sick. He didn't feel warm. "Laz, are you feeling okay?"

He gently pulls your hand down and leaves a kiss on your palm. "The department of social services called this morning to inquire about what we want to do with Stevie. This would be the third time they have asked."

He hadn't mentioned it to you at all that they were calling already. "Okay. What do you think we should do?" You pause for him to continue.

"I told them I would need to speak with you before any further decisions were made regarding him…" His fingers tap against the wood of his desk. "I'm not sure I have an answer for them. Nor for you." He swallows. "I'm afraid of what might become of him should he go into the system. Or that he will not get the support he needs given his past. Any option involving allowing him to stay for a bit longer is a commitment I won't make without your full support, of course. I could never ask that of you." As he speaks you can hear the frustration pouring from him, feel the irritation radiating through the room. "I refuse to give up on him- I- I just don't have the answers on what to do without them hounding me and he deserves better than this, dammit."

"He does… Do you remember on your 50th birthday, what you told me?" Laszlo looks up at you confused. "You said that you had wished you were ten years younger so you had the energy and time to do all of it again. That if you were younger we would've had a whole gaggle of kids - brothers and sisters for Sophia."

"Wishing I was younger doesn't make a difference in helping Stevie-"

"Laszlo - let's adopt him." Your words stop him in his tracks. You had decided not to have any more after your daughter was born. Laszlo was nearing 50 and the pregnancy had been hard on you. But regardless you knew that you both had the means and the love to give another child, probably five or ten more children if you really wanted to. So why not start with one that's already wormed his way in to the family? "I've seen how fond you are of him already. You've taken him under your wing as if he was your own. And how good he is with Sophia? Hell I couldn't ask for a better older sibling for her - and she loves him already. And honestly, Laz, I do too."

"You think we should adopt Stevie?"

"I think we should ask, yeah. He deserves a good home and a strong father figure that's going to put him first. He looks at you like you hung the stars, Laszlo. He needs us, and truthfully I think we need him. So yeah - what's one more added to this little shindig we've got going for us?"

"Have you-"

"-thought it through? Yes. Completely."

You can see the smile he fights to hold back. "We should call tomorrow and see what the protocol is for stating our intent to adopt and getting the paperwork."

"Um…" You shuffle your feet. Nose scrunched, you confess "I may have already called them. On the way from work I asked about what would need to be done if we wanted to pursue that route, but since they already know who we are from you working with them for years it can be fast tracked." You pull him out of his chair to stand before you. "All we have to do is say 'go'."

He has no hesitation.

"Go."

Laszlo doesn't hold back his smile or his laughter as he spins you around his office floor. You're certain your children downstairs can hear your giggles.

Tag list

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[crymeariveronceagain]

Hmmm... What do you think about Tiergan adopting Fitz and Biana? Like, how do you think it would go down? It'd be interesting that's for sure.

Also, I've seen your posts about Tam and Linh, and I raise you: Golden Child to Scapegoat Pipeline Linh and Constant Disappointment yet High Expectations Tam.

aaaah okay so

to answer your second thing. that's 100% it. That's the entire thing. Their parents adored Linh.

Until she manifested.

She manifested early, too. At about five years old.

And then, it was too much. Too dangerous. And she let them down like three times in a row and they were like. Okay, yeet. Tam was always their least favorite, they only ever really wanted a girl, why would they ever actually pick a boy? And Linh was sweet and well mannered and polite and she couldn't do anything wrong.

Until she manifested. Choked her mother, slightly, in terror of being able to hear the water. Rained down on her brother with a rush of what she could hear that she'd never heard before. Splashed water in her father's face and screamed louder than she'd ever screamed before.

Linh had always been their favorite.

Then she turned five.

They decided against that pretty quickly.

Tam was their least favorite, the scapegoat, did all and every wrong, until Linh became their even more least favorite, and then they tried to have him be everything. A boy was always better than a girl, anyway, and the constant pressure was absolutely horrible on him.

Like, it went from 0 pressure and emotional neglect to 100 pressure and overbearing demanding requirements to receive the emotional support he'd been refused for years. And he still never got it. He just really really tried. Just. Kept failing. Until he gave up.

So yes, 100%. That's it, that's the vibe. Yeah. You broke it down to its bare essentials!

On to the first part of your ask!

Tiergan Adopting the Vackers:

Biana Vacker took her brother's hand in hers. "What's going on?"

Fitz swallowed. "It's nothing. It's fine. You don't need to worry about it."

Biana crossed her arms over her chest. "What are you talking about? You're my brother. I always worry about you."

Fitz shook his head. "Don't."

Biana blinked. "Fitz," she said, softly. "Is that a bruise?"

Fitz shook his head, fiercely. "It's not."

Without another word she took her brother's head in her hands, and turned him gently to the side. "No," she said, "That's a bruise."

"No, it's not."

She glared at him. "You're an idiot."

He smiled, softly. "I know."

Biana's eyes glued themselves back on what was very much a bruise. "I know what it is. What did Dad do this time?"

Fitz winced, tightly. "It doesn't matter."

Biana took a deep, steadying breath. She wanted to break her father's neck.

He'd break hers first.

She swallowed. "How long has this been happening?"

Fitz said nothing. The clock on the wall ticked, softly. Biana glanced at it. It was nearly midnight.

Her older brother was so quiet it ached like the bruise on his face had to.

They sat in the silence for a long, long moment.

"That long, huh?" Biana whispered, when the thoughts became too hard.

Fitz didn't say anything. He bit his lip.

"He used to hurt Alvar, too."

Fitz jerked to his feet. "It's not like that, Biana! It's not a big deal! He didn't mean to, he just--"

"Fitz," Biana said. "Stop."

Fitz dragged his hands up through his hair, gritting into it and pulling it away from his face. His fingers turned white.

Biana swallowed, and set her hand on his head, gently.

They didn't move for a long, long moment.

"It doesn't even hurt that bad, Biana. He says worse things all the time. It's almost easier when he--" Fitz swallowed.

Biana didn't like this. She didn't like this at all. "Fitz. This isn't good."

"I need to--"

"You need to what?"

Fitz said nothing for a long, long while again.

Biana brushed her hand through his hair. "Dude," she said, "We gotta get out of here."

Fitz didn't disagree. Every other time in Biana's life that she'd ever brought it up, or Alvar had ever brought it up, he'd shouted, screamed, seethed, or raged. Tonight, he was just quiet.

Biana wondered what their father had spat at him tonight. What it had hit in his soul.

What had broken inside of him tonight.

"We've got nowhere to go," he said, with as much anger as he could seem to muster. It wasn't a lot.

Biana pulled out her imparter.

Texted her boyfriend.

would tiergan be okay with me and fitz crashing at solreef tonight

It took him two minutes to respond.

yes. why? what happened??

She didn't respond to that.

"We've got somewhere to go."

Fitz's whole body sagged forward like the strings holding him up had been cut, like something sharp and pokey had stopped prodding his back. "Where," he asked, softly.

"Solreef. Tam said Tiergan's okay with it," Biana stood up, and started to pull a bag out of her closet.

"What are you doing?"

Biana turned to look at him. "Getting ready to leave."

"We can't leave!"

Biana blinked. "Why not?"

"Because Da--" Fitz broke off.

"Yeah," Biana said. "Go grab your stuff. It's never safe here. It's not safe now."

Fitz looked uncomfortable. But he nodded. He got up and left.

Biana watched him go. She threw things into her bag, shirts, pants, toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, mascara--

She heard shouting. She froze.

Oh no.

She was invisible and silent and vanished before she could blink. Her mom had taught her well, and her feet didn't make a single noise as she brushed down the hallway. Her heart pounded in her chest, her fingers shook even though she couldn't see them, light passing through where they were. Heat flooded through her head, but everything else was cold and uncomfortable.

So she moved.

And she came to a halt outside of Fitz's room.

The door was ajar.

Her stomach dropped.

Fitz was shrinking, pulling himself down, his shoulders inching towards his ears.

And her father, a man she could never hate, could never force herself to stop loving, but would always dislike, now and forever, was leering over him, looking at him with more malice than anyone else would ever see in his eyes.

Even Biana wasn't privy to that wicked rage.

That malice was reserved for his perfect child.

The one held in line by force, by endless puppet strings, the one who never wanted to leave, who had to stick with their father who hurt him, stick with the father who pinned him in place like some dead moth in a collection on the wall of a human insect collector.

"You're needed here," Their father spat at her eldest brother. "You're not allowed to leave."

Fitz shrank even more. And he nodded.

Biana saw her father smirk, his lips twisting in a way that made the shadows of Fitz's dim room deepen across his face, painting him gaunt, ghastly, and terrifying.

Biana wished she could do something.

Her father reached out and grabbed her brother's chin, jerking him up to make eye contact with him. "Are you leaving, tonight?"

Her brother bit his lip, and answered, "No, sir."

"Why?"

"You need me here."

Her father nodded. "You are the only reason this family has any social standing, anymore. You are the reason we're worth anything. You cannot let me down. I have nothing without you, our family is nothing without you, and if you leave at all, ever..." He sighed, drawing out the sentence into oblivion.

Fitz swallowed.

Biana could see her father's fishing hooks, cast by his words, fastening and digging into his soul. It stung, burned, and couldn't be torn out without more pain than had already begun.

"I'm sorry," Fitz said, finally, his accent coming in really strong, in a way reminded Biana of the way he'd used to talk when he was a little kid. "I shouldn't've--"

"Talk correctly," Alden said, and Biana bristled. She wanted to scream at her father that that accent was his fault, teaching Fitz how to speak English at such a young age that the accent had stuck, and hard, and he couldn't get rid of it if he wanted to speak properly.

Fitz bit his lip really hard for a moment, his eyes scanning the ground. "I'm sorry," Fitz said, his accent fading, slightly, "I shouldn't have thought about it."

"You're right," their father said. "I shouldn't have to be here right now, correcting you. You're supposed to be better, Fitz."

"I'm sorry," Fitz said.

"What are you? Your brother?"

Fitz's gaze jerked up, his eyes widening. "No! I'm not!"

"Then you should stop acting like it."

Fitz shrank again. "I'm sorr--"

"I don't want your apologies."

Fitz nodded, again, not seeming to process what their father had said, quite, "I'm sorry--"

At least the hand that hit her brother's face was flat and open, Biana hated that she thought. Alvar had always gotten closed fists, and bruises that could be confused with those of school-censored brawls instead of exchanges with his father.

Fitz's eyes widened, sharply, and he brushed his hand over where their father had struck him.

"If you'd listen," their father snapped. "I wouldn't have to make you."

Biana bit her lip, hard, trying not to tackle her father. He didn't know what he was talking about.

Fitz had gotten yelled at earlier that day, roughed up once already. And instead of backing down, their father had returned, and reinforced his words, re-applied the destructive salve to Fitz's self-perception, and now was willing to break apart the rest of him but what he'd perfectly concocted.

And it made Biana want to hurl her guts on the floor.

Her father's hand wrapped around his chin again.

Her appearance glitched.

Sue her, she wasn't good at this crap while she had her fingers clenched around a door.

It was taking everything in her not to lunge at her dad.

Her brother's gaze shot to her, and then flicked away again.

But her dad caught it.

He turned, the dangerous smirk flittering back onto his lips.

Biana swallowed.

"Biana," Her father said. "Get out here."

Biana stayed still for a long moment, invisible and silent, waiting.

Her father kept his gaze on the space where she was.

Her fingers twitched.

Nothing happened, the stillness creeping in her bones like a stiffness inspired by the icy cold of his gaze.

Her father turned away, finally, back to his son, still held in his grip.

And Biana moved. She slid out from behind the door, her talent flooding through her body, invisible and as wispy as she wanted, sliding into the room as though she was a soft gust of wind, lighter than a smell and gentler than water. Silently, she crept behind her father.

Her father didn't notice her existence. Sometimes she was glad to be his invisible daughter.

"You need to start thinking of this family," her father hissed at her brother, "You are everything to me, but not if you keep behaving like this. You might make me replace you."

"With who?" Fitz said, bewildered and scared.

Their father tilted his head. "I'm sure I can find someone. Your sister is pretty eager to please, isn't she?"

Fitz cringed, his eyes depicting pure terror. "No, Dad, I'm sorry. I'll be better, I'm sorry--"

Their father's hand cracked into his face again, and Biana winced, fading back fiercely into the land of the invisible that she'd unintentionally started to pull out of. A ghost mouse whispered as it walked across the floor.

Biana bit her lip, hard, trying not to think about how much she wanted to hurt her father like he'd just hurt her brother.

Her whole body, as thin and immaterial as it was, trembled with restraint.

"I don't want to see you until the morning," Her father demanded. "You can at least give me that."

"Yes, Sir," her brother said, softly. Her dad nodded, once, and dropped him.

And with a sharp turn that would have knocked Biana over if she'd been sensible to the visible world, he left the room.

And Biana instantly phased into sight. Fitz jolted, his eyes wide and pained, full of tears that he instantly choked down again.

"How much of that did you see?" His voice was a breathy whisper, pained, angry, sad, and exhausted all in one bitter mess.

Biana shook her head. "Doesn't matter," she whispered, softly. "We're leaving."

"Bee, you heard him, I can't, I--"

Biana shook her head. "Leave everything. We need to get out of this place."

"Bee--"

"Fitz," she whispered, reaching out, and grabbing his hand. "You're not safe here. If we leave now, we'll be fine. Okay?"

Fitz looked at her, his eyes meeting hers, and he bit his lip with an intense force.

She squeezed his hand once. "I know you want to protect me," she whispered, softly. "But let me protect you this time. You can't stay here. I can't stay here. We need to get out of here to be safe."

And, almost in exhaustion, Fitz nodded.

A gasp of relief filled her whole body, washing her in the reality that she could get her brother to safety, they just had to get out of this house.

Without another word, she pulled her brother to his feet, watching him wipe at his eyes ferociously.

She wished she had the right words. She never did.

Instead, she just took his hand, and the two of them quietly walked out of the dark blue bedroom. Fitz's hand was tight around Biana's like she was the only thing he knew existed, in that moment. Biana shot a look at him.

He looked like his mind was far, far, far away from the place they stood. She wanted to stop moving, to give him a hug for as long as it took for real life to move properly in front of his eyes again. She didn't.

They didn't have time.

Instead, the two of them walked down the endless steps of Everglen.

Biana jolted to a halt at the bottom of the steps.

Their mother stood there, watching. "Where are you going?"

Her voice was clear and cold, like ice water.

Biana bit her lip. "Away."

"You aren't allowed to leave," their mother said, back, tilting her head to the side.

Biana was out of darns to give. So, instead, she clenched her brother's hand in hers tightly, once.

He squeezed back.

And she started walking.

Their mother didn't say anything, and didn't stop them. As soon as the door closed behind them, Biana said, softly, "We need to run. We can get to Solreef pretty quickly as soon as we're outside the gates."

Fitz swallowed, and nodded, still looking a little out of it.

And so, her hand still in his, like she was guiding someone smaller than her across a busy street, she ran. And he ran with her.

They dashed out of the walls, and Biana pulled him into the light of the light-leaper, the glittering up of technology whisking them away, just in time for her to see her father's face appear at the gates.

But then they were gone.

And she walked out of the light, towards the towering walls of Solreef, the cliffside palace that Tiergan always let be full of warmth and light.

She tugged her brother's hand, but he didn't move.

She turned, and saw that his eyes were full of heavy, unshed tears, that he was trying desperately to cover with anger or numbness, to fill in a hole that was filling up with tears.

She said, softly, "Tiergan's not going to judge you for crying."

And, indeed, she was right.

Because, when Tiergan pulled Fitz into a hug, Fitz broke down in sobs, held back for what may have been years, and instead of pushing him away, or telling him to calm down, Tiergan just held her brother.

"It's okay not to be perfect," he said, quietly. "You're good enough, just as you are."

Tam gently put his arm around Biana's shoulder, and she sagged against her boyfriend. He kissed her cheek.

They sat in silence for a while, in front of the fireplace, Tiergan finding Fitz a room to stay in, and Linh accompanying the two.

"How bad was it?" Tam asked, finally.

Biana's breath rushed out of her in an exhausted sigh. "Awful. But if I can help it, he's never gonna have to go back."

"What about you?" Tam said, nudging her, softly. "I didn't ask about Fitz. I asked about you."

Biana took a deep, heavy breath. The world weighed too much. "It was horrible," she said, softly, pressing her forehead into her knees that she'd brought up to her chest to curl herself away from the rest of the world. "I don't think I ever want to go back there."

Tam kissed her forehead. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Biana relaxed.

And some of the pressing worries lifted from her mind. Maybe their parents wouldn't hunt them down in the morning. Maybe they wouldn't be forced to go home. Maybe they'd be allowed to live, here, for as long as they wanted.

Maybe Tam was right.

And at that point, and that hour, that little vote of confidence in her safety by someone she trusted was enough to get her to doze off into a desperate, finally safe sleep.

[mylovelysanshine]

for you; choi jongho

just for you, he would do anything no matter what.

g: fantasy, action, fluff, angst??

inspired by stray kids' i am you and monsta x's fighter.

[1]

jongho!

jongho perks up, looking at your figure making your way towards his direction. he blinks as you stopped your tracks, standing infront of him.

what?

you huffed, rolling your eyes before pinching his ear hard.

what? what?! look at you! didnt i told you to stop fighting?! why are you so stubborn?!

you said, frustration coming off from you as you continued pulling his ear.

y-y/n!! jongho screams in pain, hands trying to pull off yours from his ear and you decided to let go before placing your hands on your hips. you looked at him, raising one of your eyebrows; asking him the reason behind his actions as you wait for him patiently.

jongho closed his eyes and sighed, he has nothing to hide from you because you know that he's lying if he tries to so he decided to answer. instead of ignoring like he used to.

...they were talking bad about you again and i dont like that

your face softens, listening to his words attentively before sitting down infront of him. you cupped his face gently, as if its fragile. he slowly opened his eyes, embracing the beautiful gaze of yours as your breathe tickled his face. his heart started to race after realising how close the both of you are.

jongho, you know you should ignore them. i always told you that! they're not worth our time! im used to this, its alright!

you took a deep breathe, calming yourself down before continuing but got cut off by someone's voice.

choi jongho!

both of you looked at the direction where the owner's voice was, seeing jongho's mother angrily walking towards the both of you. yanking your hands away from him, pulling his arm up.

where have you been?! didnt i told you not to hang out with this weird girl?!

seeing his mother screaming at your best friend makes you scared; because you're seeing red aura covering her whole body.

red.

danger.

evil.

jongho rolled his eyes internally before looking at you, seeing your face turns into fear. curiousity got him but his mother pulled him away before he was about to question you, leaving you alone.

jongho slammed the door shut, anger building off him. he got an arguement with his mother because of you, because of how weird and dangerous you are, thinking you are someone evil when you're not.

he didnt understand why people dispised you, even your parents. they called you names, described you as a whole different person and neglected you whenever you try to make friends or helping them when they were in need.

because someone like you,

whose heart like yours is never the same as anyone else in this world

heart so kind that its so unreal

so unreal that people whose heart is not like yours, decided to hate you for being kind

and you deserve to be protected and loved from this cruel world at any cost and jongho is willing to do that for you.

so, jongho decided to go out and went to find you, ignoring his mother's questions to him.

you're in the forest.

the forest that the king forbids anyone to go to because of rumours of a dangerous monster in the forest that will attack you either in the day or night

but your feet brought you here unknowningly.

you looked around, looking for ways to get out from this place until your eyes landed on a mysterious cave. curiousity got you as you took little steps towards the cave, harsh cold wind touching your skin even though the weather is hot. voices could be heard from the cave but it wasnt clear for you to understand and before you could fully stepped in, someone pulled you by your arm.

the stranger spun your body around, shouting at you are you out of your mind?! you're going to die if you go in there!

you tilted your head, a surprised look on your face you care?

what do you mean? the stranger furrowed his eyebrows, confused over your question

you..you took a step forward, making the stranger pull his arms away from you and taking a step back ...care about me?

he looked at you, observing your facial expression; genuine happiness glowing out on your face, also not to mention how cute you are. he shook his thoughts off and coughed a little, not wanting to think too much about it.

...yeah? and what about it?

you squeled, jumping up and down someone finally cares about me! im going to tell jongho about this!

the stranger didnt say anything, staring at you as he was weirded out by your sudden attitude. you stopped, realising that you were too hyper infront of a stranger who doesnt know you.

well...uhm...im y/n! sorry about that, this is my first time knowing that someone cares about me other than my best friend.. you confessed, looking down as you were feeling embarrassed to tell someone about your feelings when you know the people whom you talked to didnt care about you. his expression softened when he heard that from you, why would people ignore you like that? but then he realised that you are y/n he's talking to, the most talked about and hated in this village.

it was silent for a moment before you break it.

hey san?

yeah? san replied before looking at you with his wide eyes wait, how do you know my name?

you laughed and san feels like he's listening to a beautiful melody everyone knows you! you're a prince, san you replied, smiling widely as your dimple popped out, making his heart beat faster than usual.

o-oh.. that's all he could say

you smiled and san swore he could see the galaxy around you so san, what are you doing here?

the both of you talked for a long time, not knowing that the day has already passed but it didnt matter for the both of you. the both of you shared your stories to eachother, your hobbies and many more and it feels like you have a new best friend.

you also learned that san doesnt like his father, you didnt know why but he told you to protect yourself if you ever see him.

run, hide if you ever see him. do not interact with him that was all he said to you about his father and you didnt even question it

then, the both of you decided to seperate your own ways since it was getting late until someone calls your name.

oh? jongho? jongho! you ran to him with glee, jumping at jongho a few meters away from him and giving him a hug but both san and jongho saw is that you were flying.

what are you doing here? you asked, smiling happily and are you okay?

i was trying to find you..and yes, im fine he reassured as he hugs back, smiling at you as messes up your hair before his eyes landed on san, quickly releasing the hug and bows to him prince san!

..so this is jongho she was talking about huh san thought before smiling at him please dont bow! im just a normal person like you

but you're a prince and im just a villager, prince san

but we're both humans, arent we? those are just unnessecary stupid names san said, coming up to jongho as he extend his arm call me san

before the three of you could say another word, heavy rain started to fall out of a sudden.

its raining! quick! into the cave! you shouted as the rain got heavier and heavier

but its dangerous! both san and jongho said at the same time

we have no choice, you idiots! come on!

and so, the three of you ran into the cave, having no choice but to wait in there until the rain stopped. the three of you stepped in, echoes of your footsteps welcoming you three. the three of you are drenched but that didnt worry you, you were worried about how the three of you are able to go back home. not to mention that you were glad that san didnt wear anything fancy today, since the rain has started out of the sudden. you looked around in the cave, seeing nothing but darkness

until you saw a ball of light.

you gasped as your eyes widen. your legs dragging you to the light, leaving the boys alone.

h-hey! y/n! where are you going?! jongho panicked, running up to you as san follows from behind.

...the light! can you see it? you asked, turning around to look at the both of them. they nodded, they can see the light too but why and how is it here? is there someone else in this cave?

questions filled in both their minds for a moment until they got the answer, looking up and looking at eachother.

they forgot that there is a monster in this cave.

you were walking furthur from them, walking towards the light. before they could stopped you, your hands touched the light, making the cave rumble.

it went for a minute and the three of you didnt say a word after it stopped

until a voice came

what kind of a human, who dares to step into my cave?

a/n: hello!!! im back with a new fic!!!hehe i've been wanting to finish this first part of 'For You' !! like a few weeks after i finished 'Lonely' but i was so busy with school and life:,) and i was having no motivation at that time;;;; but i hope that with this new fic, my lovely atiny readers are enjoying this and wants to know more about the story!!! this is my first time doing a fantasy au so please bear with me!!

and sorry if there's any english errors:/ english is confusing zhshjz