#and he's SO overprotective. like even with other people that he's familiar with and likes if he even suspects that that person is

[sleepymarimo]

(𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑)𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄

zoro x fem!afab!reader // fluff, sfw, reader is preggo, overprotective zoro my beloved!!

it’d been around three days since the sunny had docked at some spring island, with the log pose indicating that another week was needed before departure.

truthfully, it was nice to be on land for a bit. you’d forgotten what it’d felt like to walk on solid ground, plus this island boasted a few cozy towns and a large city to explore.

nami had bestowed you with an extra large allowance to accommodate for the newest addition of the crew… who was currently kicking about in your stomach, due soon.

you appreciated the gesture, putting the money to good use, a small bag already in your hands.

ever since you’d stepped foot off the ship, you’d looked forward to some time alone, a moment of independence, but it’s hard to do so with a beast following you at all times.

the town you were currently in was only so large, the residents familiarizing themselves with the infamous pirate crew who’d docked not too long ago.

as you walk toward some shops, you pick up on the hushed whispers.

“he’s following her around like a puppy!” one says, an older woman smiling to her companion.

you pass by a cafe, some patrons sipping on their teas and caffeinated brews. “he hasn’t left her alone since they docked here…” comes another, the words almost lost amid the morning conversations.

and you know exactly what they mean.

your face burns hotter and hotter as you trek along with your precious cargo, the sound of your footsteps accompanied by the familiar clink of earrings and scabbards rubbing against each other.

when you stop, so does he.

“can’t I take a walk in peace?” you complain, chuffing as you turn around and face the swordsman, who narrows his good eye at you.

he rests his hand on one of three hilts, unbothered. “it is peaceful. I’m quiet, aren’t I?”

you click your tongue, shake your head and keep walking. he follows.

zoro’s protective instincts were something you grew fond of- you still are fond of them- but at times like this, they were downright overbearing. even on this beautiful island, where not one speck of trouble has made itself known, he doesn’t relent.

“you know what I mean,” you accuse, stubborn, your eyes meeting his for a moment before glancing off toward a small boutique. “it’s not like I’m gonna run off on you.”

he shrugs, a smirk just barely curling at his lip. “I don’t know that.”

zoro’s just messing with you, trying to brush off the depth of the request you’re making, but he gets it. he knows how much you value your independence, how his constant hovering puts it at stake, but hell, he can’t help it.

the swordsman had told himself he wouldn’t be that guy, yet with each milestone reached, whether it be the first time he’d noticed your bump or the first kick, he found himself unable to stop from- dare he say it- worrying.

however, in moments like this, when you’re stubborn and standing up to him, he realizes how much of a handful he is. on the bright side, all that independence of yours reminds him why he put that damn baby in you in the first place.

his teasing remark earns him a soft, yet pointed stare, your arms crossing just over your very full belly.

holding back a scoff, he takes a step closer. “yeah, yeah, fine, m’being a little… attentive, so what?” his free hand comes up, just barely brushing against your stomach. “you’re carryin’ the next greatest swordsman, or swordswoman, in there.”

you maintain your ground, but statements like that from him do wedge their way into your heart. “well yeah, but still, can’t I just go on a walk by myself?”

he mumbles something you can’t quite hear, his cheeks growing a little rosy. “you walk around the ship, don’t you?”

“alone, ‘zo,” you persist. “just me and baby.”

a large sigh and he looks at you, really looks, then he glances around the island. it has been safe, his finely tuned instincts picking up on absolutely nothing. the people are kind, the weather pleasant, and the oceans clear, gentle.

knowing you were close, seeing the gears turning in his head, you grab one of his arms. “pleeeease, ‘zo?”

he gives.

“fine, fine, you stubborn woman,” he straightens up, rolling his shoulders. “you can take a walk around town tonight. saw y’looking at that store yesterday, maybe you can go there.”

his posture softens, just a bit. “maybe nami and robin want to go with you,” he suggests, wanting you to have company.

“zoro…”

“just robin?”

“zoro!”

oh well, he tried. “just keep your transponder on you, alright?”

you give him a smile, using his arms as leverage as you lift yourself and place a kiss on his now pink cheeks. your tummy, full and holding a little person- his baby- brushes against him and he relaxes.

later that evening, when you finally get some time to yourself, you walk along and take in the sights, happy. soon, maybe in another month, your little warrior would be here… and you can’t even imagine how much more protective zoro will be.

[eclipse-msoul]

FAMILY, FAMILY DEAR BATS 🦇

synopsis : What happens when a normal reader enters Batfamily. Not by getting orphaned or saved but rather just visiting her uncle for the first time ( it's Bruce ). Now somehow she's become the unofficial therapist of this family and for unknown reasons the only one with enough common sense.Also why is everyone so Overprotective?

Or

Normal reader X Platonic yandere Batfamily

Chapter 2 :-

Your eyes twinkled open all while you took your surroundings into view. This most definitely wasn't your room. It was too large yet had a tiny elegance to it. Your mind raked where you were -- seconds passed before you realised you were indeed at your uncle's place. 

Getting off the bed, you made your way to the bathroom and freshened yourself up. Your eyes which were in a daze snap open sharply. You smile at your reflection before coming out. 

Walking out you passed through the large and bright hallways and made your way to the kitchen. Mr. Alfred, you remember, was busy making breakfast. " Good morning, Mr Alfred." He greeted you with a smile. The man had a stern yet soft look in his eyes when he glanced in your direction. 

Passing you an eloquent smile he pushed the seat back for you. " Good morning, Miss Julia. You've woken quite early. " You nodded, " I'm an early wake. Also-" You said turning your head left and right. " Where are my parents?"

" They informed me they had to leave early due to an emergency at work. I was told to inform you when you woke.. " 

Wow, your parents really just left you. What happened to spending a few days there? Really- still you couldn't blame them, they always made time for you but sometimes the work got too heavy or an emergency arrived. " Seems like them. " You sighed while taking a seat. 

Mr. Alfred placed breakfast in front of you. You gasped at the amount, it looked like it could feed ten people. Looking back and forth you asked, " Will my cousins or someone else be joining us? "

Mr. Alfred blinked before a smile found its way on his lips. " Master Duke will be joining us." You had a hard time believing he could eat this much. But hey! It's not like you were familiar with how much a young adult ate. 

As if on que you heard a voice from behind, failing to prevent himself from yawning. " Good morning Alfred. What's for breakfast?” Alfred motioned him to look at the table. You heard a gasp, “ Wow, you really prepared a lot! Is everyone coming back already?”

“ They should arrive by evening. Also-” Alfred coughed, his eyes pointing to you. “ You ought to greet our guest.” The boy's eyes finally scan and spot you. 

You slightly turned your head and looked at him. He was really handsome you thought. His skin was practically glowing but the dark circle near his eyes told you he barely slept. 

He came closer and took a seat next to you. Extending his hand and a smile bright on his lips, he greeted you. “ Sorry about that. I was kind of sleepy. Nice to meet you uhh-.” You shake his hand and smile right back. “ Julia..” You reply, “ A pleasure to meet you too.”

“ Duke.” He says and takes a seat. You don't notice him examining you while you eat. He follows your movements and begins to eat. 

So this is Y/n Julia. 

You look so ordinary, practically so small. He scans you with his eyes and powers and finds you to not be a threat. You turn to him confused as to why he's been staring at you for the past five minutes. 

He places some more eggs on your plate. “ Eat more.” You nodded. “ You have some more too.” You passed him some ham. Both of you chatted with each other and despite him being at least six years older, you were able to enjoy yourself. 

Duke was really good at talking. 

“ Do you want me to give you a tour through the city? We can visit the hospitals too!” Wow he really was nice. You practically grinned, “ I would really like that!” Duke smiled back. 

He was feeling like a big brother right now. A real one. 

He's always wanted a little sibling he could take care of and spend time with. He remembers begging his parents for some. They laughed nervously and told him maybe in the future. 

Then they died and he lost every chance of it. 

When he got adopted by Bruce, he was scared. His new siblings were nice but they all kept their distance. Though with time he'd gotten closer to them all. Even Damien. But his relationship with them all was nothing more than a convenience. To each of them, every single one of them was but a teammate. Just a small part in their great mission. 

Duke had changed in the eight years he was under Bruce's roof. He got more cruel, more efficient and more…emotionless. He had lost any desire for love and care. He couldn't even be brothered anymore. 

Now talking to you, he felt hope brimming. Bruce had already told them all about your family's existence. When he read your file, after it was passed around among his siblings who for some reason just love to mess with each other. He remembers not caring. 

He wants to hit his past self right now. Even if it was him from an hour ago. 

Also

Your picture did not do you justice. 

You look lots more livelier than the picture shows. His eyes have gotten soft in just an hour. That's something none of his siblings would ever believe. Him being kind and smiling with someone? That's practically unheard off! They'll probably try to run some rest on him later. He can already feel a headache coming. 

But he feels they would understand him. They're all the same kind of monsters after all. He can already see you meeting them and them taking a liking to you instantly, just like he has. 

“ Duke, are you listening?” 

He turns his attention back to you. Your bright eyes stare at him with full attention and kindness. He smiles. 

“ I am..” you go right back in for your live of medicine. 

 This is perhaps his first time talking to someone normal. Someone who isn't a vigilante, someone who isn't traumatized. 

Just a normal, bright kid. 

His ears sharpen in edge and his eyes slightly flicker when he hears the footsteps. Bruce is doing it on purpose to not freak you out. He sees Bruce make way to the living room, where you both have taken a seat and are talking. You of course see him and greet him with a smile. 

“ Good morning, Uncle Bruce.”

Bruce pauses before smiling. “ Good morning Julia.” He takes a seat next to you. “ You're quite an early riser. I've never seen any of my children ever wake so early.” He sighs under a smile. 

“ Really?”

“ Yes. They all love to sleep late, when they are home that is.” You wouldn't know but his last bit is meant for someone else.Duke inwardly scoffs. “ They must be home often then.” Bruce freezes and you feel his smile falter before returning to his face. “ They come when they wish.”

You nod. 

Duke already wants to leave. Despite all that Bruce has done for him, he can't make himself stay in his presence for long. Especially if it's not related to vigilante work. He gets up and your attention turns to him. “ Duke?” You ask. 

He smiles and pinches your cheeks. “ I've got some work to do. Let's hang out later, ‘kay?” You nod. Duke shoots Bruce a stare before leaving. You don't notice since it's very quick and subtle

Once Duke disappears, Bruce turns your attention back to him. 

“ It's nice to see you get along with him.”

“ Duke's nice so I wouldn't take the credit.” You reply. You have no idea how cruel and emotionless he is. Bruce would say he was surprised when he saw you both chatting and smiling earlier. Duke has never been this open in front of anyone. Not even his siblings. 

“ I wouldn't put myself down there. You're good at socializing.” you blush. “ Thanks…” 

He smiles. “ So I heard you love medicine. Are you planning on pursuing it?” 

“ I am. It's been a dream for me forever!”

“ That's nice.” He doesn't realise when his hand moves closer and ruffles your hair. He starts and pulls back quickly. “ Sorry.. I didn't realize-”

“ It's fine uncle. You can do it again.” You allow him to pat your head. He smiles at the warmth you give. 

“ So uncle Bruce, when are the others coming? I would love to meet them!” especially if they are nice like Duke. 

“ Right ! They should arrive right-wing” suddenly there is a loud bang and the ground shakes. You about to fall is steadied by Bruce and he helps you get stable. “ You alright?” Bruce asks seriously. “ I'm… fine.”

“ What was that!” Bruce says nothing, just points at the direction of the sound.

“ Master Damien and Master Jason. What are you both doing?” You hear Alfred's voice. He's scolding someone. Bruce and you walk out and you see two men getting scolded by Alfred. 

“ It was Todd's fault, Pennyworth. I have done nothing wrong. “ You see the shorter one trying to defend himself. His face has a big blue spot forming. Probably due to a punch. 

“ Don't put the blame on me Demon brat! Alfie I'm telling you! It was all him. “ The taller one argues back. You see blood falling down his arms. 

Your glance at Alfred who looks like a tired dad ready to bamg his head on the wall. Bruce takes his place next to you and pats your head again. 

“ Here they are.” You hear Bruce sigh holding his nose bridge like a tired parent. “ Welcome to our Mansion Julia.” 

Damn-

TBC…

Coming chapters will be uploaded slowly, also if anyone wants to be added to the tag list, kindly message or comment.

All our batfam has a dark and cute side. So look forward to it ^⁠_⁠^ Also to everyone wondering why I gave reader the name Julia. It's a Nickname I thought would be cute. ( I don't know what it means but it kind of rhyme with jewel. So I wrote it in that context, since she's going to be like a jewel to them.)

Still if everyone wants I'll use y/n or name ( tell me what u all prefer) in the coming chapters ≧﹏≦

Thanks for reading 🩷

[shizuturnspages]

Imagine yandere diluc, ayato, wriothesly, zhongli with an oblivious reader who wasn't aware that they're in a relationship with them like they thought they were best friends. They live together and basically do the most couple things and believe that they were best buddies

Love your writing, stay healthy no pressure from me if you don't want to write this

🩷🩷🩷

More Than Just Friends

Synopsis: You were just friends. At least, that’s what you always told yourself. Living together? Best friends do that. Sharing food? Nothing unusual. Sleeping in the same bed when it got too cold? Just something friends did for comfort! You never questioned the way they always touched you so casually—brushing your hair back, adjusting your collar, holding your wrist when you walked together. Or how they always knew everything about you—what you liked, where you were, who you spoke to. You never noticed how their eyes darkened when others got too close. Because to you, they were just your best friend. But to them, you were theirs. Pairings: [Separate] Yandere Diluc, Ayato, Wriothesley, Zhongli x Oblivious Reader

Diluc – The Overprotective 'Best Friend'

Living with Diluc Ragnvindr was like sharing a home with a protective older brother—at least, that’s how you saw it. He had always been a little overbearing, a little too invested in your well-being, but you assumed that’s just how he was.

After all, wasn’t it normal for friends to:n

Cook every meal for you to make sure you "stay healthy"?

Escort you home every day because "Mondstadt isn’t always safe"?

Casually mention that you don’t need to date anyone because "you have me"?

You figured it was just his way of looking out for you.

"Hey, Diluc," you called out one evening as he handed you a steaming cup of dandelion wine. "Have you ever thought about getting a girlfriend?"

The silence in the room was deafening.

The redhead froze, his usually composed expression unreadable.

"I don’t need one," he finally said, voice eerily calm. "I already have you."

You snorted. "Yeah, yeah, but imagine if you did. You’re kind, responsible, and—"

He set his glass down with a little too much force.

"Why would I need anyone else when we already live together?"

"Uh... because we’re best friends?" you replied, confused.

His eyes darkened. "Friends?"

"Yeah? Best friends?"

Diluc let out a soft sigh, shaking his head. "Of course," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "You’re so innocent."

You didn’t understand what he meant. But the look in his eyes sent an odd shiver down your spine.

Ayato – The Sweet but Possessive Companion

"You’re acting like my boyfriend."

The words were spoken in passing, a joke, a tease.

But Ayato froze.

His gaze locked onto yours, something dangerous flickering beneath the usual warmth.

"Am I not?"

You laughed, brushing off his words. "Of course not, silly! We’re just roommates. Best friends! Partners in crime!"

The way his jaw tensed should have been a warning.

Best friends. Roommates.

No. No.

You belonged to him.

You didn’t notice how no one ever got too close to you in the Kamisato Estate. How people avoided even looking at you when Wriothesley was near.

How every single letter addressed to you was intercepted before it ever reached your hands.

You were his.

And one day, he’d make sure you understood.

Even if it meant locking you away forever.

Wriothesley – The Overly Attentive ‘Roommate’

Living with Wriothesley was a mix of comfort and mild confusion.

For one, he always insisted on walking you everywhere.

"Fortress of Meropide can be dangerous," he’d say. "Better safe than sorry."

"But we’re just going to the marketplace?" you asked one day.

He tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. "Doesn’t matter. I’d rather be with you."

And that wasn’t all.

You had noticed how he touched you—not in a way that felt inappropriate, but in a way that seemed… too familiar.

An arm around your waist when guiding you through a crowd.

A hand resting on your shoulder when he spoke to you.

And the way he pulled you into a hug just a little too often.

One evening, as you were sipping tea, you sighed dramatically. "Wrio, we should get matching rings."

The way he stilled should have clued you in.

"Matching rings?" he repeated, voice slow.

"Yeah! Friendship rings! To show we’re best buds!"

There was a long pause before he chuckled, but there was something… off about it.

"That’s not a bad idea," he said, grinning to himself.

You didn’t know that the "friendship rings" you had unknowingly suggested were actually engagement rings in Fontaine tradition.

And he wasn’t planning on correcting you.

Zhongli – The Devoted ‘Friend’

Zhongli had always been exceptionally caring, going above and beyond for you.

At first, you thought it was just how he was.

He always pulled out your chair before you sat down.

He always remembered your favourite foods, ensuring they were prepared daily.

He always gave you soft, lingering looks, as if watching over something precious.

You had assumed it was just his nature.

That was, until one day, you joked, "I can’t wait to meet my future partner!"

Zhongli’s tea cup stopped midair.

He set it down gently, too gently.

"Future partner?" he echoed, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah! You know, when I get married someday."

His amber eyes seemed to darken.

"You speak as if you do not already belong to someone."

You furrowed your brows. "I don’t?"

He sighed, a patient but warning look in his gaze.

"Y/N," he said softly, too softly.

"Has it never occurred to you why we live together? Why I dote on you so?"

"Yeah, because we’re best friends!" you chirped.

The silence that followed was so loud.

Zhongli only smiled, though something in his gaze sharpened.

"You are too naïve, my dear," he murmured, almost fondly.

But you would learn soon.

Because whether you understood it now or not, you were already his.

[writinginatree]

Caught

Relationship(s): Brennan Sorrengail/female!Riorson!reader, Bodhi Durran & Xaden Riorson & Garrick Tavis & sister!reader

Summary: Your older brother and closest friends get overprotective when they find out you've started dating your mentor Brennan behind their backs.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is 20, Brennan is... however old he canonically is. 29? 30? Idk), being caught making out, threats and teasing. First time I'm writing for Brennan, so pls don't judge too harshly.

Anonymous requested: Heyy can you make a platonic fic where Xaden is y/ns brother and she gets her signet which is kind of similar to brennan's so y/n and brennan start hanging out and they start liking each other so they start secretly dating. But one day Xaden, Bhodi and Garrick catch them (the three can be protective)

Afterwards, you can't even say which of them caught you first, because your eyes were closed when they walked in. Had they been open, you probably still wouldn't have noticed, busy sticking your tongue down Brennan's throat as you were. It wasn't until you heard the noise of disgust from the doorway that the two of you realized someone had walked in. You immediately sprang apart, but it was too late.

The secret is out, and now you have to deal with the consequences of not locking the door in form of the three overprotective guys standing in the door to Brennan's office.

"What the hell," Xaden growls, and for maybe the first time in your life, you understand why people are afraid of him. That is murder shining in his dark eyes, directed straight at your secret boyfriend.

For a tense few seconds, everyone is silent. You find yourself wishing you had a signet like Imogen's to simply erase what they just saw from their memories, but of course you would have never gotten so close with Brennan in the first place if you weren't a mender.

"Could we just pretend you guys didn't see that?" you try to diffuse the tension.

Xaden, Garrick, and Bodhi answer as one without even looking at you. "No."

Their furious expressions are so similar that if you squint, it almost seems like your brother has multiplied. As if one angry Xaden wouldn't be trouble enough.

"Thought so..." you sigh, and exchange a look with Brennan, who gives you a tight-lipped smile that you assume is meant to be reassuring. You're too nervous to be reassured, though. This situation has a huge potential to get very ugly.

"Care to enlighten us on what exactly it is that we just saw?" Garrick challenges, cocking his head at you.

"It's called kissing," you retort. Maybe being snippy isn't the best idea, considering how pissed they are, but you can't help how annoyed you are by the interruption. "If you're not familiar with the term, we have a library where I'm sure you'll find a dictionary to look it up."

"Really," Xaden growls. "You sure about that? Because it looked like a lot more than kissing, considering where he had his hands."

Damn it. You were hoping none of them had noticed Brennan's hands under your shirt, or the way you'd been perched on the edge of his desk with your legs on either side of his hips, but of course you couldn't be so lucky.

Thank gods things hadn't gone far enough for any clothing to come off yet.

Even as it is, you're not sure how the fuck you're going to keep your brother from murdering Brennan. There can be no doubt he wants to, not with that look on his face. It's a testament to Xaden's self-restraint that he isn't at his throat already.

You take a step to the side, positioning yourself in front of your boyfriend, just in case the situation escalates, but Xaden isn't having it. His shadows wrap around your arms and pull you away from Brennan, not releasing you until you're right in between Bodhi and Garrick with Xaden in front of you.

"Hey! What the fuck, Xay!" you yell, only to be ignored. When you try to walk back over to Brennan's side, a waist high wall of shadows blocks your path.

Brennan asks, a lot more calmly than you, "Don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

In your opinion, Xaden is overreacting a lot. This is ridiculous. The three of them have always been very protective of you, but this is a whole new level of overprotectiveness, even for them. Maybe it's because they've never had the chance to give someone the shovel talk before, since both of the two relationships you've had so far — if you can even call them that, considering they consisted of no more than a handful of dates each — had taken place while the boys were already away at Basgiath. Or maybe it's the suddenness of unsuspectingly opening a door only to be met with the sight of you and Brennan making out.

If you'd just told them you're dating, it might have gone better. You had meant to tell them — eventually.

You had known all along you wouldn't be able to keep your relationship hidden forever. Xaden has a talent for sniffing out people's secrets — probably a side effect of having so many of them himself. You didn't want to keep it secret forever, only as long as the relationship was still fresh, until you figured things out a little more. The problem was the question of how to tell people without them making a big deal of it. Both of you knew right from the start people would judge you once they found out — because of the age difference between you, because he is a Lieutenant Colonel and you're just a first-year cadet, because he is the one instructing you as a mender.

Of all the ways your brother — or rather brothers, since Bodhi and Garrick are just as close to you as Xaden — could have found out, this is just about the worst.

"Overreacting?" Xaden asks in that deceptively soft tone that usually promises a painful death. "I catch you being all over my fucking baby sister, and you think I'm overreacting for putting some distance between you and her until I know what the fuck is going on here?"

Brennan rubs a hand over his face and sighs. "No. I get that. But it's not what it might have looked like."

"Isn't it? Then please, do tell me what the fucking hell you think you were doing with my baby sister."

Before Brennan can do so, you snap, "I am not a baby! I'm twenty!"

Xaden only spares you the barest glance, but that's enough for you to realize he's not just angry with Brennan, but with you, too. His curt answer confirms that. "You're grounded is what you are."

You gape at him, not sure you heard him right. "You can't ground me!"

"Watch me."

Just like that, he dismisses you, turning back to Brennan and demanding he explain himself. As if nothing you have to say about this even matters.

"You're being ridiculous, Xaden! What I'm doing with my boyfriend is none of your fucking business!"

Damn, it feels good to actually call Brennan that out loud.

Your brother looks momentarily put off by your giving Brennan that title, but ultimately ignores the statement. He doesn't even turn to look at you again. "I'd like to talk to Brennan alone for a moment, Y/N," he says. His voice is calm, but you can hear the fury simmering just beneath the surface.

"Absolutely not!"

"I promise I won't kill him... for now."

"How reassuring." You hesitate, knowing this is a fight you can't win. "Promise you won't punch or otherwise hurt him, either?"

"That depends on him."

"Go. I'll be fine," Brennan says.

You wish Xaden would let you near him. If you were in reach, he would doubtlessly be giving your hand a reassuring squeeze like he's taken to doing lately when he notices you're nervous, and right now, nervous doesn't even begin to describe how anxious you are. It's impressive how Brennan manages to stay so calm with Xaden trying to glare holes into him. Maybe his near death experience during the rebellion has made him immune to fearing for his life. Or maybe he's just good at hiding his nerves. He certainly isn't so stupid to think your brother is not a threat just because he's younger than Brennan.

"Alright." You point a threatening finger at Xaden. "But I want him back in one piece."

"Yeah, I gathered as much," he says, which isn't exactly agreement, but better than nothing.

Bodhi and Garrick lead you from the room, taking you in the middle. It simultaneously makes you feel like a child and like you're a criminal being escorted to prison. They lead you to the kitchen, the silence between you heavy like it's never been before.

"Guys—"

"Save the excuses for when Xaden is done with Brennan," Bodhi advises. He doesn't really sound angry, but when you risk a glance at his face, he's still wearing that scowl that looks like it belongs on Xaden's face instead of Bodhi's.

"I don't know why you guys are making such a big deal of this," you mutter as you take a seat at the kitchen table. "I'm more than old enough to have a boyfriend."

"That's not the point," Bodhi says. "The point is that he's too old to be your boyfriend."

"Bullshit. You're making it sound like he's ninety. Or like I'm ten."

Bodhi and Garrick shake their heads and refuse to say any more for now. You should probably be glad for the relative peace while it lasts. Once Xaden joins you, you'll be getting an earful, no doubt.

The waiting is bad. The not knowing what Xaden and Brennan are talking about, exactly, is worse. And the worst of it all is your own imagination running wild with all the horrible things that could be happening inside Brennan's office while you sit here, thinking they're just talking. Logically, you know Xaden won't attack Brennan, no matter how much he might want to. By now, he probably already realized Brennan holds no bad intentions toward you, and has calmed down. Even if he were to get violent, your boyfriend is perfectly capable of defending himself. None of these facts stop you from worrying, though.

After what feels like an eternity, Xaden walks into the kitchen. To your relief, you don't see any blood on him. That doesn't necessarily mean anything — you know he's perfectly capable of slaughtering someone without getting any of the mess on himself — but it's a good sign nonetheless. He doesn't look quite as furious anymore, either.

But not furious anymore doesn't mean his anger has evaporated. He's still far from happy, that much is evident by the look he gives you when he takes a seat across from you, folding his arms on the table. You know that look very well; it always means you're about to get lectured.

But before he can start, you can't stop yourself from asking, "You didn't hurt him, did you?"

"No," Xaden says, drumming his fingers on the table. He exchanges a look with Bodhi and Garrick, and adds, "Apparently, they're in love, so I decided to let him live."

Garrick snorts. "Well, clearly having a thing for Sorrengails runs in the family."

You ignore Garrick and glare at your brother. "If you'd just asked me, I could have told you that too. You didn't need to make such a scene."

"Watch it, or I really will ground you."

Rolling your eyes, you ask, "Why are you so mad about this, anyway? Aren't you and Brennan, like, friends?"

"That doesn't mean I want him dating my sister. He's too fucking old for you, not to mention he's supposed to be your mentor."

"I know it's not ideal. But you're not in the position to talk, considering you were Violet's wingleader when you two got together. And Brennan never gave you shit for that."

At least not as far as you know.

"Xaden and Violet are almost the same age, though," Bodhi points out. "Brennan is like, a decade older than you."

It does sound kind of bad when he phrases it like that, which is probably why he did it. Still, it's not the world-ending issue they're making it out to be.

"I'm aware. And I know that kind of age difference is a bit... unusual—"

"It's fucking weird is what it is," Garrick interjects.

"Fine, whatever. But I'm an adult, in case you haven't noticed, so—"

"A very young adult," Xaden corrects.

"Stop interrupting me! What I'm trying to say is, just because Brennan is a few years older than me doesn't mean he's taking advantage of me or anything like that. I'm not a little kid."

"No, but you're young and inexperienced. Even if he doesn't mean to take advantage of you, it's a fact that he's in a position of power over you, and you've never even had a proper relationship before."

"Just because my previous relationships ended before they really started doesn't mean they don't count. Besides, there's a first time for everything."

"Sure, but—"

"No but! Stop treating me like a godsdamned child, Xaden! I'm only three years younger than you. And I understand why you're... concerned... about the age difference between Brennan and me, okay. But—"

"Then why didn't you tell me?" Xaden interrupts. "Tell us?"

"Because I knew you'd freak out!"

"We're freaking out because you kept it from us so long! How are we supposed to look out for you if we don't know about the shit you're getting yourself into?! If you really understood why we're concerned, you would have told us."

"I was going to tell you! Just... not yet."

"You should have told us the moment this started," Garrick says.

You cross your arms and lean back in your seat, glaring from one of them to the other. "Why? So you could have meddled and stopped us from getting together?"

"So we could have made sure you're safe," Bodhi insists. "We're just trying to look out for you!"

You soften a little at that. It sucks having to justify your relationship like this, but you know they're not arguing with you just to make you feel bad. They only want your best, even when they're being unreasonable and overbearing.

"I know. And I appreciate it. But there really isn't anything to worry about. Brennan is very gentlemanly, you know."

"Well, that's good."

You think maybe they'll leave it at that, but then Garrick asks, "How long has this been going on for, anyway?"

"A few weeks."

It had started innocent enough. When your signet manifested, Brennan was the obvious choice to mentor you. Before that, you'd only known him fleetingly, from Battle Brief and through Xaden. But once you started spending time with him honing your signet, your admiration for his strategic brilliance quickly grew more personal and turned into a full-blown crush.

After months of unsuccessfully trying to fight your feelings, you'd been baffled to find that Brennan returned them.

In your mind, your chances with him had seemed practically non-existent. After all, he is a revered strategist, a war hero and member of the Assembly, while you're just a cadet, constantly overlooked in comparison to your brother. You're nothing special — a good fighter, but not exceptional, bonded to a dragon that is big but not huge nor legendary. Your signet, while useful and not overly common, is nothing out of the ordinary, either. Not even your appearance is anything special — you wouldn't go so far as to call yourself ugly, but you don't have the kind of striking beauty that turns heads wherever you go, either. It's always your brother who draws everyone's eyes, while you fade into the background. Xaden is the powerful one, the brave and selfless one, the pretty and charismatic one, the leader. Meanwhile you're absolutely average in every possible way.

And yet somehow, you'd been lucky enough to earn Brennan's affections; Brennan's, who is way out of your league! You'll be damned if you let these overprotective assholes ruin that for you.

"Weeks?! You've kept this from us for multiple fucking weeks?"

"Yes, Bodhi, I did. Because I don't fucking owe you guys a report about my love life."

He winces. "Of course not. But usually a new relationship is something you tell your friends about, don't you think? Like Xaden said, we can't keep you safe if we don't know what's going on."

"I know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, okay?" You sigh. "I just wanted to avoid this very argument we're having, but I should have known that wouldn't be possible."

Bodhi smiles, and it feels like a peace offer. "Well, it kind of is our job to worry about you."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. And you don't have to like that I'm with Brennan, but you do have to accept it."

The three share a look, and then Xaden nods. "Okay. But we'll be keeping an eye on him."

That was to be expected. You can live with that. Unnecessary as their concern seems to you, it's kind of nice to know they're watching over you.

"Okay. Then if you don't mind, I'm going to go talk to my boyfriend now." You love calling him that. You're going to do it every chance you get for the foreseeable future.

"Talk to him, yeah?" Garrick teases. "Let me guess, you mean the same kind of talking you were doing earlier?"

You ignore the gagging noises Bodhi and Xaden make at the idea, flipping the three of them off as you walk away.

Brennan is in his office where you left him, and true to Xaden's word, he's unharmed. Closing the door behind you, you let out a deep breath and slump your posture.

"Well, that was..."

"Stressful?" Brennan suggests, crossing the distance from his desk to where you stand with three long steps.

"Yeah. That sums it up." You smile. "Definitely not how I meant to spend the afternoon, but at least that matter is out of the way now."

"Did they give you a very hard time about it?"

You shake your head, fidgeting with Brennan's fingers. "They're overprotective to an unhealthy degree, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. If it wasn't so annoying, it would almost be sweet how worried they were. What about you? How many death threats did Xay make once I was out of the room?"

Brennan chuckles. "Oh, a bunch. But they'll only take effect should I mistreat you in any way, shape, or form. Nothing to worry about. It wasn't easy to placate him, but we talked for a while about what I see in you, and I guess in the end I convinced him that this is serious."

"Good." You place your hands on his chest and give him a playful grin. "Now, where were we when those idiots interrupted us?"

Brennan pulls you against him, both hands on the small of your back. You slide yours to the back of his neck, and he presses his lips to yours.

"Right here," he mutters into the kiss. "And this time" — you feel his hand shift, followed by the sound of the lock clicking as he uses lesser magic to lock it — "no one will walk in."

[acid-ixx]

Now that someone mentioned Connor as a possible love interest I think he will be a good choice. He obviously feels a similar kind of anger at his own father(s) so they could connect thanks to it. And his super hearing and other abilities will make it possible for him to always know when something is wrong with reader. I see reader being in shock that someone wants to be there for them and dismissing any yandere tendencies, toxic traits in favour of keeping Connors attention. Not like they could loose it no matter what they do, Connor is to obsessed and I could see him being dependent on his darling.

a/n: since i am more familiar with the animated series (young justice) for conner kent and i feel your ask is describing his version so i'm basing it off of him! but yes you are so fr in this. i will never not go too far when it comes to rambling, i love long asks hehe.

it was temporarily stated in chapter one that you had your momentary bouts of anger and that in itself already paved its way into conner's heart because of course most would be put off with the rage that he kindles within. you two would really be some sort of match made in heaven— it's like you deeply understand the intensity of his emotion, and you both share that bond nobody could deter; it being anger towards your parent/s and the inability to be accepted or nor noticed/your feelings being invalidated most of the time.

but because of the level of power between you, you being human and him literally being a carbon copy of superman, conner would be incredibly overprotective and possessive of you. and i'm not just implying that he would give anyone within a fifty mile radius a death glare, no, you would literally be glued to his figure all the time.

that means a hand on either your shoulders, your waist, or hips. if you were the shy type, then expect him always holding your hands or wrist. but if you don't mind the weird display of pda, then you'll be lucky enough to have the rights to smother your face in his chest whenever and wherever— sometimes that would even be his go signal to tell anybody off whenever you feel the slightest bit of discomfort.

but other than the advantages of being with him (protective guard dog 24/7), you would pretty much lose every sense of independence nor privacy. which isn't losing much since you already have your mad family on your tail constantly tracking you down and probably a huge bounty on your head— but at least you have your boyfriend with you, right?

with the lack of attention you were given to as a child, one given willingly without the need to ask for is basically a heaven for you. and with his powers? babe, you don't even need to ask for him to take you away to somewhere safer because he could already hear your heartbeats thumping louder and louder.

speaking of superhearing; a way to calm your boyfriend down quickly and efficiently would be laying his head on your chest. you'd probably discover the method later on your relationship, but as much as conner loves to hear your heartbeats from any distance, he loves it all the more when the only barrier that keeps him away from your beating heart would be your skin and your ribcage.

since conner was raised with the lack of physical contact and he's the type to push people away, your physical affection towards him is something he doesn't even know he craves, not until he tastes it for himself.

you wouldn't even feel the need to tell creeps off anymore! because conner is out there intimidating every person who dares to show the slightest bit of romantic intentions towards you.

so really, is it so bad if he wants you all for himself?

you both eventually gain a codependent relationship with each other— but it's not like any of you would leave each other wanting for more, because you both are more than enough for each other.

and conner thinks it's better off if it would only be the two of you in this world.

screw your family.

[loonylupinblack3]

Overprotective

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, suggestions of violence occurring (nothing actually happens just very brief suggestion)

Summary: Going to the club and getting drunk without your overprotective boyfriend is never a good idea

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: posting bc of max's win in china

Max had always been protective of you. Since as long as you can remember Max had acted like your protector, stopping you from doing risky things and helping you when you did them anyway and hurt yourself.

You were childhood best friends, having known each other since you were five and he was six, brought together by a love of karting. As time passed and the two of you grew up, your relationship stayed strong, but changed. Feelings grew between the two of you, though it took until you were 21 before you two did anything about it.

So you were used to Max’s slightly overprotective tendencies. It was second nature to you, as familiar to you as breathing. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t get on your nerves from time to time, like tonight for instance. You were supposed to be going out with your girlfriends to a newly opened club, but Max was having some trouble letting you go.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw you enter the living room from his seat on the couch, eyes roaming your body. You were wearing a cliche club outfit; short black dress, heels, and bangles on your arm. You could see the appreciativeness in Max’s gaze, but also concern.

“You look nice,” he said, putting his phone down.

You smiled and gave a little spin. “Thank you. It’s the dress I got on Tuesday.”

Max stayed silent for a moment, considering what to say. “You look very beautiful, Schatz, don’t get me wrong…. But is that what you’re wearing out?”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

Max hesitated again. “It’s just… it’s not very restaurant friendly.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth. You had wondered briefly why Max had been so calm about you going clubbing, but you’d brushed it off thinking he just didn’t mind it. Now you knew it was because he didn’t actually know.

“Well, Max, that’s because we’re going clubbing, not to a restaurant,” you say slowly, waiting with baited breath for his reaction.

Max blinked, surprised. “You’re what?”

“We’re going clubbing….”

Max opened his mouth then closed it, clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged. “I thought you knew.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You thought I knew you were going clubbing? Even though I didn’t say anything about it? Or warn you about drinking too much?”

You grimaced. “I know how it sounds but I genuinely didn’t realise you didn’t know.”

Max sighed. “I know, I trust you. I just don’t know if going clubbing is a good idea.”

“But it’s already been decided. And I got dressed up.”

You pouted slightly and Max rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. Me and the girls have sorted everything out.”

Max started. “You mean it’s just going to be you girls alone? What about Izzy’s boyfriend Liam? Or Kate’s boyfriend? They’re not going?”

“It’s a girls night,” you reminded him. “No boys allowed.”

“Schatz….” Max warned. “I don’t feel comfortable letting you go to the club alone.”

“I’m not going to be alone-”

“You’ll be with a group of girls, all of you vulnerable and easy to prey on,” Max said sternly. “I’m not trying to be mean, but without a man around you there are certain people who will take that as an opportunity to try and hurt you.”

You sighed. “I know Max, but we’re fine. We know one of the bartenders and he’s promised to keep an eye out for us, plus Liam will be driving us home so we have a ride. Seriously, you don’t need to worry.”

Max frowned, looking at your face for any trace of doubt. “I always worry about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Max continued thinking before eventually conceding, walking up to you and wrapping you into a tight hug. “Be safe,” he murmured into your ear.

You returned the embrace. “I always am.”

You pulled back, still in Max’s arms, and he tugged down your dress with a slight scowl. “Too short.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye Max.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Max said, “and text me when you’re coming home.”

You nodded your head and hugged him goodbye once more before leaving the apartment and your boyfriend. You knew he was worried, knew he’d probably be worried for the rest of the night and wait up for you, which made you feel guilty. He hadn’t prepared for you to go out clubbing, completely different from a tame meal at some restaurant, and you knew he’d be agonising over it for the rest of the night.

All you could do was answer his texts and make sure he knew you were safe. 

Except things didn’t go to plan.

You arrived at the club and everything was fine. You looked around, taking pictures of the new place, and greeted your bartender friend. You ordered some drinks and stayed by the bar for a bit, talking and catching up, before one of your wilder friends, Lily, suggested shots and then dancing. You weren’t much of a shot person, mostly because you were a lightweight, and you hadn’t planned on getting too drunk tonight but everyone was egging you on, and you didn’t want to be left out so you agreed, the four of you slamming down tequila shots like you did in college.

Then it was off to the dance floor, you, Lily, Kate and Izzy forming your own circle, dancing and laughing with one another. And you were having fun. You were feeling happy, giddy, and the only thing that would make this night better would be to have Max by your side.

You stepped out of the dance circle, moving back to the bar as you took out your phone. Noticing the multiple texts from Max left unanswered you felt a pang of guilt, but it was distant compared to the excitement you felt.

y/n: maxieeeeeeee

maxie❤️: you okay?

y/n: im the bset y/n: i mss yoi y/n: u shoud come tothe club

maxie❤️: are you drunk??

y/n: jst a litttle bit

y/n: lily siad shots

maxie❤️: you did shots? are you okay?

y/n: im grate

y/n: u should cmoe hree

y/n: i wnna party wth yoou

maxie❤️: already on my way

If you were sober, you probably would have picked up on the annoyed/concerned tone Max’s text had, but you were not sober, so you texted him a ‘yaaaaayyyyy’ and turned your phone off, waiting for what you thought was going to be your party ready boyfriend.

Instead, after you’d had another shot with your friends and continued dancing, you found yourself face to face with your concerned and worried boyfriend.

“Maxie!” you slurred, throwing your arms around your boyfriend in a hug. “Come dance with me!”

Max chucked, trying not to show his concern, but his tight hold on your waist gave him away. You pulled back and looked at him. “You are going to dance with me, right?”

Max sighed, manoeuvring you so you were off the dance floor. You were almost too drunk to notice, just clinging onto your boyfriend. “I’m here to take you home.”

“But I don't want to go home. I’m happy here,” you whined like a child.

Max muttered under his breath, “did I or did I not tell you not to drink too much.”

You frowned at his bad attitude. “I just want to dance.”

He shot you a look. “You can dance at home where you're safe, not in a club full of strangers while drunk out of your mind.”

You pouted but your boyfriend had already made his decision, half dragging half carrying you to where he parked his car. You knew better than to fight Max when he was like this, even drunk, so you sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, glaring at the road ahead of you while silently cursing Max and his stupid overprotectiveness. 

Max glanced at you as he drove. “I can tell you’re upset with me.”

“I was having fun,” you complained, “and you took me away from it.”

Max sighed. “I’m sorry Schatz, I am, but I wasn’t comfortable letting you stay in a club full of strangers drunk without me.”

You pouted again. “So why didn’t you just stay at the club with me?”

Max laughed a bit. “Because I only enjoy clubs when I’m drunk, and the whole purpose of me being there would be watching you while you’re drunk, not the other way round.”

It made sense even to your drunk brain- sort of -so you dropped the subject, letting Max off the hook. Maybe you’d argue with him in the morning when you were sober and had a better grasp on reality, but as Max parked in your driveway and helped you out of the car, all you wanted to do was curl up with your boyfriend and go to sleep, which is exactly what you did.

Max helped you undress and got as much makeup off your face as he was able to with his limited skill set and then got you into bed, laying down beside you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest where you sighed into it, content.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair.

Even drunk and half asleep, you still managed to reply, “I love you too.

[milessunflowers]

This came to me in a dream but imagine.

Max Verstappen x MotoGP!male!reader. They're very similar, both started very young, they both have four championships and they're both Dutch. But Max is well, Max and reader is an absolute sweetheart and cinnamon roll.

Thank you!

just read all abt motogp and didn't realize how fucking cool it was until now so ty for that! gonna start watching it this season!

max verstappen x motogp!male!reader

synopsis: two racers, both alike in dignity, in fair motorsports, where we lay our scene- you and max are very similar in a lot of ways yet so different that you guys just make it work

author's note: motogp, i was not familiar with your game. but srsly i have to start watching bc just reading and researching on it had me so pumped up at 11:45 last night bc i forgot to rest up 😅 worth it bc AHAHAHAJDLLWWN <- that's how im feeling abt motogp. hope you like it!

you guys are so similar before you even knew each other

you both started around the same time, being the youngests to ever race in your respective sports

fans were quick to point out the parallels between the two of you

you won a good set of races (even if it's hard to do) and max was dominating the f1 world

plus you guys were both dutch

so everyone's all like "what the hell do they feed those motosports kids in the netherlands?"

you guys meet in like some random gp, maybe yours maybe his but either way a random gp

im thinking cota lowkey before daniel was booted (rip king)

so like daniel sets you guys up practically

turns out you got along amazingly, followed each other on instagram and like added each other on whatsapp and stuff

like you guys really hit off

you talk and get to know each/build a stable friendship for like a year and half before you ask him out

he says yes of course, claiming he was just about to do it and you stole his spotlight

you don't care because you are just happy to have date with someone you've come to care a lot about

you go on this date, probably to the beach because you still aren't sure what he wants to eat and when

you guys start being official shortly after

skip forward and you have won your second championship and max as one so far so you guys are out celebrating and stuff

fans spot you, ask for some pictures and notice how drastically different your personalities are

like you seem all cheery and happy all the time while max only seems to enjoy himself when he's with you or other people he likes

but they also realize how perfect you guys are and how much you counter balance each other

like one gets too overwhelmed the other is taking them home and obviously vice versa

and you guys are so so supportive

like if your bike decides not to work and you have to quit mid-race, max is there to support whether actually at the circuit or over facetime

if max has a particularly bad race, you are supporting him in anyway you can to make sure he knows how talented and amazing he is

you guys don't fight a lot, but when you do you guys are both lowkey overdramatic and realize like ten minutes later how stupid the argument was and then make up/make out over it

anyways

anytime you guys can, you support each other

like if there just happens to be the races on the same day, you make sure to tell max before and after your race how amazing and proud of him you are and max makes sure everyone knows what an amazing boyfriend you are

also championship celebrations are insane

like drunk asf, waking up sire the next day

you guys are just happy you got to celebrate them together

even if max is a little overprotective

not as much as you though, because some guy looked at max the wrong way at a bar one time and you just about punched out his lights

look, you're sweet and all but you love max and don't want people to judge that

plus you are a max defender til the day you die

you tried getting max to ride your bike that you have a home, but he almost broke his arm and you almost got berated by horner

but horner's opinion doesn't matter to you because he's horner—pretty self explanatory i think

you guys will sometimes go karting together but max always wins (you jokingly accuse him of cheating to win but he just has a cheeky smile)

its always fun because you guys really just like to battle on track

though you are less aggressive both in your motogp driving and on the kart

max, well, you guys know how max's driving is

also i feel like you would drive him around, if that makes any sense

like he screams passenger princess to me and i don't really understand it but you know what, fuck it we ball

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile, @alex-wotton, @raizelchrysanderoctavius

[livingmybestfakelife]

Concrete Rose

After recovering from camera flashes burning your eyes and the pack of people screaming your ears off. You had yourself a well needed glass of champagne that was offered to you by one of the waiters. Your manager Jerry, the slime ball that he is, had guided you through the private room of the Winifred Hotel to greet the other guests. You all had just gotten back from the Los Angeles premiere of your new picture, and now you’re at the after party that you honestly didn’t want to be attending. But it would be in bad taste to not be here when the studio had paid big bucks to make it happen. Oh well, next month your contract will expire and hopefully with your record of bringing in box office success, they’ll let you negotiate fewer movie deals.

But that was just wishful thinking. These people were greedy and wanted every dime out of their stars at all costs. Which is why when you begin to show signs of not being able to handle the long film hours, they instructed Jerry to put you on some Benzedrine, which you quickly became addicted to, so to mellow you out and make sure you slept you were also put on Veronal. Your body began to get even more sick from being on it, but you also felt drained from being off of it. You didn’t know what to do or who to turn to. Hollywood isn’t the most sympathetic place, especially not to an actor. So you swallowed down your feelings and decided that the show must go on.

After being talked to death by all of the sycophants and hanger ons. You walked towards your table, but before you could sit down you heard a familiar voice fill the room.

“There’s my girl!”

You turn around to see Stack in one of his favorite suits and hat. His huge and charismatic smile stays on his face as he walks towards you and engulfs you into a warm tight hug. His cologne is sure to stick to your dress which you don’t mind, you missed the comfort of him being in your presence. He and Smoke were a constant cloud hanging over you your entire life. In both a good and bad way. Good in a way that you had protection, guidance and support when your folks were working or you were out and about outside of their watchful eyes. And bad whenever you wanted independence, to think for yourself and make your own decisions. No one ever asked them to be what they were to you, they didn’t have to, it’s what they assigned themselves to do.

Their mother and yours had a girlhood bond that never died, even when the twins’s mother’s passed away. Your mama kept her memory alive. It was so strong that the adoration they shared with one another was the same type their children inherited with each other. They had gotten pregnant within the same year, the twins being born seven months earlier than you. You’d think it was seven years earlier with how overprotective they were, as if you were a baby who need the big kids to watch over you like a hawk. People who didn’t know y’all would’ve thought you were siblings with how close you were, but no, they were just a pair of misfits who didn’t play about you.

“Stack? Whatcha doing here? I thought you were still in Chicago”

“Yes well we’re on vacation….why aren’t you happy to see us?”

“Of course I am just wasn’t expecting you”

Smoke stepped up from behind Stack and hugged you as well. Though his was less suffocating. His eyes lingered around your face and the rest of your body as if he was checking for any abnormalities. He was satisfied that you were physically in one piece, but something still bothered his spirit, he could see it in your eyes that you weren’t in any emotional peace. It was one of the things that you hated about him, that he was so observant and could read you so well. Sure, Stack would notice some things, he wasn’t an idiot, but you and Smoke held a different type of bond that Stack couldn’t get from you. And he preferred it that way, he was always the one who reminded you to come to him whenever something was wrong, that he’d handle it if it was something very serious. He felt some guilt that he felt like he was hiding things from Stack, but once you two began talking and tuned out the world, he forgot all about how his little brother would feel.

“Hey Stack, why don’t you go get yourself something to eat”

Stack sucked his teeth, he didn’t like how he was being pushed away.

“Man we just started talking, what’s the rush?”

“Just for a minute, you’ll get your chance”

“Yeah whatever, hey don’t go too far, I’ll be right back”

Once he was out of the way, Smoke lifted his arm so that you can snake yours around his and you two walked to your table. He pulled your seat out and you gracefully sat down like you were taught to do in the etiquette classes that the studio had you attend early into your career. He pushed your chair in and sat next to you. You waited for him to bombard you with the questions you were expecting. He picked at the table cloth that was draped over the round table, he didn’t care for this environment, he despised it just as much as you did. It was too stiff for his liking, he knew that he and his brother were being judged the second they walked through the hotel doors, unfortunately for everyone else they weren’t intimidated by the stares and whispers, they weren’t there to impress anyone, their only mission tonight was to check on their friend and to find out if the information they heard through the grapevine was true.

“Jerry been doing right by you?”

You nod and took a sip of your champagne, he knew that by you avoiding his eyes you were lying, it’s like you forgotten that he knew you like the back of his hand.

“He been drugging you?”

You cough from your drink going down the wrong pipe, you never got used to him not mincing his words, he got straight to the point every time, refusing to sugar coat things, it was a waste of time.

“Where the hell did you hear that from?”

“It’s true ain’t it?”

You sigh and place your drink down.

“If you mean making sure I take my medicine as scheduled then yes”

“That ain’t no medicine you should be taking and you know it, ain’t even prescribed by a respectable doctor”

“Smoke please, you wouldn’t understand”

“I understand that you’re being used as a circus animal, hopped up on bullshit you don’t need!”

“Keep your voice down”

“I don’t give a shit if these muthafuckas hear me! Let em!”

“Elijah please!”

He silences himself from his rant when you call him by his real name. He knew you were serious when you called him and Stack by the names their mama’s gave them, the look in your eyes hurt him, he didn’t enjoy when you looked like you were disgusted by him, you were supposed to be happy to see him, to feel safe and wanted, now it’s like you didn’t even want to know he existed, it broke his heart.

“Look I….I just didn’t like what I heard, that’s all, okay….hey look here”

He gently grabbed your chin and moved your head back to look at him. Only you could humble him like this, knock him from his high horse and shut him up. It wasn’t his intention to upset you or make you feel ashamed from your problem, Lord knows he was far from perfect himself and had his own ways of self medicating. But he wanted more than that for you, you were still sweet Little YN, the one Stack would hate being left out of playing with when y’all were youngin’s. He would do anything in his power to make sure you kept whatever innocence you had left in you.

“It’s just a little pick me up, it’s nothing, I can quit anytime I want”

He took you by the arm and placed you on his lap, when you cuddled up in his arms he saw the tears beginning to spill from your gorgeous eyes, the ones you got from your dear mother. He reached up and wiped them away and kissed your temple.

“We’re leaving okay. We’re gonna get you out of here”

“Wait, no we can’t I have to stay, Mr. Burnell-“

“Fuck Burnell, I’ll deal with him later, him and Jerry are gonna pay”

It was useless to argue with him anymore about this. The twins already heard the dirt, even while all the way in Chicago, the juicy details of what went down in Hollywood was nationwide, if not universal. And one of the eyes and ears they had working in the studio informed them that while things were fine the first few years of you being here, things soon turned how they typically did for pretty young starlets like yourself. You were overworked and overwhelmed and occasionally propositioned for inappropriate favors. The latter you managed to avoid actually having to be forced to go through with by this informant of theirs being one of the higher ups who had enough power to step in and prevent it from going any further than that. The letters, phone calls and occasional visits from Smoke and Stack wasn’t enough to shield you from the wolves that stalked around you every single day. It was time to come in and take matters into their own hands. They never wanted you in this industry in the first place, trying hard to convince you to work for them as their secretary in their “office” while in Chicago, but you wanted to live out your dream in the entertainment industry, so they finally gave in, a decision they’d regret for the rest of their lives.

You nodded and he helped you stand up and held the small of your back while guiding you out of the party. You keeping a kind face and excused yourself from the party, claiming exhaustion, which wasn’t too far from the truth. He kept you close to his side while you two made your trip to the elevator and while it took you to your room to the sixth floor. He unlocked the door with the key you gave him, but then he suddenly stopped you from walking any further. He felt as though something wasn’t right, his former war instincts kicking in when he smelled gun powder in the air. He told you to stay in the hallway while he pulled out his own piece and rushed inside, closing the door behind him. You were confused, you told yourself he was being paranoid, you weren’t close enough to the door to smell anything and you were too into your own head to feel the danger in the atmosphere, so you waited, and let Smoke have his little moment of overprotectiveness.

———————————————————————————

Smoke has his gun trained in front of him as he walked down the hallway that was in the entrance of the door. Once he turned the corner, what he saw in front of him wasn’t something he was expecting, at least not yet.

Laid out in a pool of his own blood was Jerry, the tall, lanky man was now even more paler than he naturally was. He was as dead as a dog, that much was obvious. He walked closer to the corpse and looked around to see who else could’ve been here, this wasn’t self inflicted, someone had took him out.

“Ay! Whoever is here come on out now!”

Soon some heavy footsteps walked out of the bathroom to his right. He spun in the direction and kept his gun pointed, out walked Stack with his sleeves rolled up and wiping his now bruised hands with one of the bath towels. Smoke put his gun back in his holster and stepped towards him.

“Stack what the fuck did you do?”

“I took out the trash”

“Dammit Stack! Why the fuck did you do that huh?! Ain’t no telling who could’ve heard them shots going off”

“Relax, I timed it with the fireworks”

“Man what the fuck?! Fuck! Fuck! Stack!”

“Ay man, calm your ass down, he’s out of the picture like we agreed to remember? Quit acting like you didn’t want his ass dead too”

“Of course I did but-“

“But what? Huh? He’s gone like we wanted. Riiight?”

“Stack you killed him in a public building”

“You acting like I wouldn’t know how to clean up after myself”

“St-“

“Or that you weren’t planning on doing it yourself”

He paused at his brother’s words. What he said and the way he looked him showed him that Stack knew something that he thought he kept well to himself and one of the mafiosos that he planned this out with.

“What? You thought I wouldn’t find out? Come on my nigga surely you don’t think I’m that stupid, that I play so much that I wouldn’t pay attention to your moves, that I wouldn’t know that those errands you had me do was a distraction to make sure I was out of the room while you and Ignatius planned out how to drop Jerry off of the face of the Earth? You think I’m stupid?”

He shook his head but Stack wouldn’t let him insult him anymore with whatever lie he was about to cook up. He had enough of the secrets and being pushed aside.

“You’ve been doing this shit to me ever since we were kids Smoke. You stuck me with the job to be the comedian that would keep her laughing, distract her from whatever bullshit life had thrown at us. All while you snuck off with her and let her tell you her deepest darkest secrets, let you kiss her, hold her….be her first time”

Smoke’s face gave himself away. Once again another secret that he thought was kept between you both, was one that Stack had known about all along.

“Yeah, didn’t think I knew about that shit huh? Muthafucka I saw the tail end of it, it was obvious when you were buttoning up the back of her dress that you had just got done making her a woman”

He chuckled bitterly, shaking his head.

“Stack, look, what YN and me have ain’t got nothing to do with you alright, it wasn’t on purpose and it wasn’t to hurt you”

“Nigga shut up, I don’t wanna hear nothing else from you tonight. Just call up Ignatius to help me with this”

Smoke gave up trying to reason with him, nothing he could say could mend the pain he caused him, even though it wasn’t on purpose, you and Smoke really did have more chemistry with one another when came to matters of the heart. Stack was your heart but Smoke was your soul.

Before he could attend to his request, the door opened and closed and soon you walked around the corner and your mouth trembled looking at Jerry’s dead body. You looked at the twins who cursed themselves that you had to see this. Though you were no stranger to violence, having grown up in neighborhood that was its own version of the Wild West, you never actually saw a dead body in person outside of a funeral, it was surreal to you.

“Baby doll, I had to do it, he was gonna kill me first”

Stack had managed to convince you that Jerry had gotten upset at them coming back to Los Angeles after hearing how he was contributing to your excessive drug use. That when Jerry caught him packing your bags, he came in cussing up a storm and demanded he leave. And when he refused, Jerry had came at him with a knife and that’s when he shot him. The crime scene looked convincing enough, the knife wasn’t too far away from Jerry’s corpse and your bags were halfway packed. You had no reason to believe he was lying, and it’s not like Jerry wouldn’t have eventually been killed by someone else anyway, having more enemies besides the infamous Smoke Stack Twins. You nodded and walked over to Stack and hugged him, he once again held you tight and kissed your bare shoulder, all while Smoke watched on. Stack had grown tired of his big brother being the one who took on majority of the credit of protecting you, being the one you took more seriously when it came to your well being, tonight he held the title of your hero.

“Hey listen to me okay, I want you to go back downstairs and get yourself something to eat, if anyone asks, say you wanted to put something on your stomach before going to bed, once I come back down to get you all of this will be cleaned up and we’ll go over our cover story alright?”

You nod and kiss his cheek. Smoke watches as you rush out of the room before turning back around. He couldn’t think of anything to say to him right now, his nerves still bad about everything, all he could do was nod and go to the phone and had the operator connect him to Ignatius’s house.

“Hey, you’re late for the card game, you coming or what?”

“Nah I’m coming, be there soon”

They both hang up and an awkward silence clouds the room.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Would you have taken me seriously? Or just think I’d treat her like the other women who’d entertain me around town?”

“YN ain’t that kind of girl, Stack”

“You think I don’t know that? I would’ve never played with her!”

“I know that”

“Then how come you never backed off? You know me well enough to know I felt”

“Because I didn’t want her to look at any other man the way she looks at me”

“Not even me?”

He looks away. That was all the answer he needed. After that night things would go back to normal, the three of you would leave Los Angeles after Smoke had bought you out of your contract. It was back to Chicago for all of you, the twins would continue with their business with Al Capone and you would become the secretary they wanted you to be. But the tension between the brothers would continue to hang in the air, you would remain oblivious to it, but the twins would always be reminded of it every time they looked at one another.

tags:

@rolemodelshit

@uzumaki-rebellion

@childishgambinaax

[iloveyanderes]

Got an idea, it’s been plaguing my mind for weeks now. Know genshin cult au? Well take the sagau out of it and add in honkai star rail!

Cult au with the Aeon’s and their darlings. The followers of the different aeons are the cult members. Some cults have one darling while others having multiple. The only thing completely the same being the fact that the Aeons are the one’s choosing the darlings(only being chosen by their followers if they of course physically cannot like Idrila or Akivili)

Right now I'm gonna only do the aeon’s that I’m familiar with and also smut warning but it probably won’t be accurate as I am asexual and never actually had sex before. Also this will technically be non-con as its a cult and very heavy themes of yandere with violence genocide having your loved ones be killed right in front of you,forced worship, gaslighting, manipulation, and a messed up viewpoint of ‘taking care of someone’ so please don’t read if your not comfortable with this.

Minors DNI

First I’d have to start with akivili themselves. It might be a little bit disappointing to you but they would be the least concerning of all the possible cults. The trailblazers quite literally are travelers so they’re darling is not trapped, akivili likely only had one darling who he adventures with and that's the only darling the nameless have. The real only yandere part of this is the fact that the nameless are all overprotective. Akivili had been overprotective but still wouldn’t do anything as they loved the trailblaze, when they mysteriously vanished the darling stayed behind and still helped the nameless do their trailblazing. When the train broke down darling fell into a coma until himeko found the train and repaired it. Now the trailblazers defy the norms and actually set off to free all the darlings eternally trapped in the depths of the aeons clutches.

Now everything after this gets serious.

Let's start with lan the hunt.

Lan has no official main darling, he marks those who he deems either worthy or vulnerable. And the xianzhou alliance hunts them down and brings them to the xianzhou. Instead of normally getting married like normal people the people who can hunt down those marked by the hunt can marry them-even multiple of these darlings if can get multiple of them(lets just say jing yuan and Feixiao have many darlings-collect them like cat) the purpose is to show everyone that your the strongest because you’ve proven yourself the most to the hunt by collecting the most darlings. What you do with the darlings is up to the person who captured them. They say the general jing yuan has gotten many of his darlings pregnant as proof of his victory, feixiao’s darlings are known for not being able to walk after a night with her. All the darlings are usually covered head to toe in all sorts of hickeys and bite marks as proof of the cultists victory. Very rough treatment that the darlings go through.

Not nearly as rough as the darlings of Nanook have to endure though. Nanook believed that the universe is a mistake, everything except for their darlings of course. The less than a handful of darlings that Nanook chose. The followers of Nanook are only allowed to have the darling that Nanook himself picked out. Nanook himself is very cruel to his darlings but he sees it as “showing them the truth” He’ll kill one of his darlings entire family in front of them while having one of his followers eat them out to slowly train them into thinking that annihilating the universe is the best possible thing to do. Other than completely destroying everything that they love he treats the darlings like kings or queens and their followers obviously picking up on this and replicating this.

Now weirdly enough I’m thinking a lot about the Aeon Idrila, I’d imagine before her disappearance or death? Whatever happened to her, she was an aeon who actually took a lover rather than a darling. However, upon her not being there anymore her followers became delusional and thought they had to trap and contain beauty or else it’ll leave them just like idrila did. The knights of beauty are the only cultists in the universe that actually choose their darlings because idrila can’t. On new years eve they track down the most beautiful girl/boy they can find, kidnap them, then forcibly pleasure them until they’ve reached the pinnacle of beauty that they could make and then encase them in resin so they’ll never look any different-with a pleasure toy stuck on one of there most sensitive spots so they still feel pleasure even after being encased eternally. It also would’ve been super cool if Idrila had a main darling who was actually her lover but was kidnapped by the knights of beauty after her disappearance because they were afraid to lose idrilas last living proof of having existed, so after new years all 364 days are spent maintaining and upholding the main darling’s beauty-making them even more beautiful with endless pampering, lotions, and beauty care products. They’re also always overstimulated out of there mind because theres nothing more beautiful than someone constantly about to orgasm-according to the knights of beauty of course.

For the preservation I’d like to imagine that the main darling of Qlipoth is on the run from the IPC because they’ve long abandoned the will of the preservation but still pretend like they didn’t. Of course losing the main darling must’ve been the most humiliating thing possible so the IPC has kept it under wraps in the excuse that the main darling is ‘sick’ while secretly trying to hunt them down. They've come disgustingly close to getting the main darling and once they do the main darling is never going to see the light of day again. On the side note the other darlings are usually kept as pets or sugar babies. Sometimes the pet play gets a little too intense…

I'm going to end on the harmony because God that'd be a nightmare. Darlings of the harmony are chosen by xipe when they've been abused, hurt, or are in disharmony. Claiming that they need ‘help’. These darlings used to get actual help like therapy or a better opportunity to life but ever since the order became more prevelant they're now taken from there homes and kept under the ‘protection’ of the family. The family is there to bring them to ‘harmony’ which includes mind control, chains, and an endless amount of orgasms. One thing that is disappointing is the fact that people never talk about just how horrifying the harmony is, like you could be on the brink of orgasming and the harmony can make any pleasure you feel 10 times more intense and unavoidable, add the order and you can orgasm without ever even being touched. So intense you can't even remember your own name anymore. some ‘unruly’ darlings might even be drugged to the point there high out of there mind and can't even coherently think. The darlings of the harmony may be kept in gilded dreams and paradise but freedom stopped being an option.

One day a young singer named Robin found herself asking; ‘when did the harmony become less like the harmony and more like the order’

And that's all I have for now, may or may not be continued as this took me a very long time to make but anyone reading feel free to make a fanfic as I really like this idea.

Have a good day/night/evening/afternoon/morning!

[bettystonewell]

TO YOU I BELONG: CHAPTER 7

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean isn't looking for a mate, and the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain't real. He still has free will, and saving you is just another part of the job. Except, monsters aren't the only things you need saving from... 18+ only MDNI

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k words

Chapter Warnings: SMUT including knotting, claiming, and marking; language, references to past sexual abuse, fluff, Dean being an overprotective alpha, soulmate bonding

A/N: *Holdsbreathandhitspost*

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Sitting on the edge of his bed, hunched over, arms leaning on his thighs, Dean twisted the small pill bottle in his hands, listening as each tablet fell to the bottom. There weren’t many, six at most, and they rattled around in there, waiting for him to open the lid and take one out. 

Or man up and throw them in the trash like he’d planned.

The problem was, he knew how his body would react to not taking the daily suppressant. He’d experienced it before. And if his inner alpha was overprotective of you now, it was about to turn into a possessive dick the second the drug’s effects wore off in T minus twenty-four hours, if he…

No. 

Not if. 

He was doing this. He was gonna claim you and make you his.

Which is why even though the trashcan was only three feet in front of him, he still sat there unmoving from the memory-foam cushioning his ass…

Fuck. Why was this so hard? 

He put the pills down on his bedside table and leant back into the mattress, fishing his phone out from his jean pocket. The denim hugging his hips was too tight, and he had to lift himself up a few inches to yank the device free, unlocking it with a couple of taps and a swipe up.

His fingers continued to work the touch screen, locating contacts, flicking down to the letter J, and hitting the green call button. At least there was one thing he wasn’t hesitating over.

He heard the click and a familiar voice fondly speak his name before he’d even brought it up to his ear. 

“Dean Winchester.”

“Hey, Jody. How’s it going?” Dean stood up off the bed and moved to the closet. 

“Good. Although I’m a little surprised to hear you ask me that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The door creaked in protest, as did his back, though it cracked more than creaked when he arched over to reach his green duffle he’d thrown on the floor after the hunt in Iowa. The couple of weapons he hadn’t bothered to put away hit against each other as the bag swayed and gravity played with their weight.

“Just that you don’t call me unless you need something or someone’s dead. Oh god. Is Sam okay? What have you boys gotten into now?”

“Alright, first off, that’s insulting.” He emptied the contents onto the bed, pulling out a shirt that had wound its way around his shotgun. “And second.” He brought the fabric up to his nose for a sniff test. It needed washing, or burning with added salt. The remnants of nameless monster guts clung to the collar, and he didn’t hesitate to throw it out. Those pills though... “Everything’s fine. Sammy’s alive last time I checked.

“I wanted to know how you were. What’s wrong with that?” He caught the phone between his neck and shoulder, freeing his hands up to open the chamber of his prized weapon. The racking was rather loud when he closed it back again, and he grimaced. Jody was going to notice that.

“Nothing,” she said. “But that’s not why you’re calling.”

Why did he attract people who could see right through him? “Well, ah, to be honest, I need a favour.” He took a long breath in, preparing himself to deliver his news. “I met my soulmate and—”

“What?” Her high-pitched squeal had him dropping his shoulder and her. “Are you sure?”

Seriously! It’s like she was trying to cut him deep. “What do you mean, am I sure? I know my own damn initials,” he shouted down at his phone. Luckily, it had only landed on the bed. He did not have the patience or time to get a new one.

He ditched the shotgun and picked up Jody, bringing her back to his ear. 

“So you’re no longer running solo, huh? Finally claimed someone! What are they? An omega, a beta? Or another alpha like you?” She chuckled. “I’d love to see that.”

‘Bitch.’

‘Dude. This is Jody.’

‘She’s insulting our mate.’

‘No, she’s insulting you, you dick.’

“Ah, an omega, and I haven’t claimed her yet,” Dean said, cringing when his inner alpha interrupted him again. His eyes searched for the pill bottle and gave it a once over. No, no. This was gonna be hell, but he’d grin and bear it. “That’s why I was calling—”

It was mid-afternoon when he pulled up in the expansive car park the next day. Dean had chosen a space at the back of the lot, leaving at least two free ones in between the Impala, and nowhere near the return bays. The last thing he needed was some asshole being careless with their cart and scratching Baby’s sleek paint job.

He shifted the stick into P, shut her engine off, and released a loud, drawn-out sigh, before turning to you and your smiling face. It was the only thing making the inevitable onslaught of other people and his first ever venture into Walmart worthwhile. 

If he had his way, you’d be sitting out front of a secluded Gas n Sip. There was nothing wrong with gas station snacks and take out. At least that’s the argument he’d used against you. Needless to say, he’d failed. You had the doe-eyed look down pat and gave even Sammy a run for his money.

The leather squeaked beneath him as he reached over you and opened the glove box. He dug through the fake IDs and old maps that had no hope of leaving the small compartment anytime soon and retrieved his 1911, tucking it into the waistband of his pants like usual. When he sat back up, he found you staring at him in disbelief. “What?” he asked.

“You’re taking that?”

His jaw tightened. “I always carry it with me. You know that.”

“Yeah, but…we’re getting groceries. What are you expecting to happen in a grocery store?”

“Nothing.” Try everything. “But you can never be too careful.” Wolves like Garth had to buy their raw steaks from somewhere. Not that the ordinary bullets he’d pre-loaded into the gun would kill anything other than a human. They’d slow the rest down, though. That was enough for him, and he’d keep telling himself that.

“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled, searching for the door handle.

Before he could squeeze his fingers against the cool metal, however, you had reached for his right and tugged at his arm. “You can wait here if you don’t want to go inside. I’m happy to—”

“Nope.” He gave one very forceful shake of his head. “Absolutely not.” There was no way he was letting you out of his sight with your impending heat. Screw his rut. 

Your pheromones had been changing by the hour, making you smell the sweetest and most enticing you’d ever been. His inner alpha was driving him crazy, and had done the entire drive, chanting, ‘Mine,’ ‘My omega,’ and now it told him to ‘Bring the machete.’ 

If only he could. 

‘I can’t hide a blade that big under my clothes,’ he reasoned. Although the demon knife wouldn’t hurt. It was a shame opening the trunk, with the devil’s trap on display in a place like this was bound to raise a few eyebrows. He did not want to draw any more attention to you.

Fuck. This was gonna be worse than hell. The rearview mirror was full of bodies and cars coming and going, and that was just the outside of the gigantic building. 

Who knew how many more people were still inside? Plenty by the stench of it.

It was too late to change his mind, though. He looked at you, holding your purse all ready to go on your lap. Frowning when it finally dawned on him that of all the things you had to wear today, you’d chosen a dress that accentuated your curves. 

He’d appreciated the view at lunch, but that was at a small town diner, somewhere off of route eighty-one. Now it was a different story, but you were clearly excited and while he didn’t for the life of him know why, he couldn’t just demand you waited here instead. That was as bad as you going in alone.

“C’mon,” he said, and climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him with the usual creak and groan.

Dean would rather chow down on burgers than run for ‘fun’ like Sam. He wasn’t afraid to admit it. But on that day, in the middle of the Sioux Falls Walmart’s parking lot, he jogged even though he wasn’t being chased for the first time in his adult life, scooting across the gravel to intercept you before you crossed the safety of the meaningless lines.

Your eyes traced over him, studying him with a wry smile, your scent spiking along with it, as did his interest.

He could hear your heartbeat if he listened carefully. It thrummed in his ears as quick as his was, but unlike him, you seemed to contain it well. 

“Just think of it this way.” You patted his chest. “The more we buy, the longer we won’t have to leave Jody’s cabin.”

Now that was something he could get on board with, and though he thought it impossible in a place like this, his own mouth grew wide, drawing his blood back up and away from the conspicuous semi he was sporting.

The change didn’t last long.

“Woah.” He gripped your hand tighter and yanked it, making you stop. That fucking douche in the station wagon had come way too close to the curb for his liking. “Watch where you’re going, jackass!” he spat. His head following the rear bumper, oblivious to the other “dangers” the car park held.

‘She was almost hit.’

‘She’s fine.’ 

Your thumb moved to stroke the tops of his knuckles. “It was nowhere near us, Alpha.”

He turned to you with a furrowed brow at first, only picking up on your discomfort from his death grip when your other fingers started squirming under his. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said.

Your arm retreated with a shake of your wrist and he went for your lower back instead, guiding you with a gentle nudge and an extra look left for any more assholes who didn’t know how to drive.

The automatic doors opened as you both stepped onto the oversized mats and Dean beelined for the shopping carts grouped together on the side. Naturally, he needed to push yours. He’d be a purse-bitch if he had to, too. Anything to stop himself from acting rash and ripping your arm off again.

He let go of you, and yanked one out, swinging the steel trolley around with ease as if he were figure skating with it and reached for your waist when he had the thing facing in the direction of a second set of automated doors. The place was like airport security. 

“Are they gonna let us leave when we’re done?” he whispered to you.

“Not if you break something with that.” Your hand came up to his shoulder and tugged on his flannel, veering to the right while pointing to a large sign that said fresh produce. “Come on. I wanna go here first”

Great. Vegetables. Not to mention the abundance of people wandering around there and the just as many aisles and fruit he’d never seen before.

How many apples did you need?

Because you passed by red and green ones, mountains of them, and even then, they were apparently all different. Grandmas. Mount Fuji’s. What the hell did golden delicious mean and would it go into a pie?

You stepped away from him to look at a display that was labelled Pink.

They weren’t like any ladies he’d ever seen. The colour didn’t come close to anyone’s, including yours.

In each subsequent aisle after, Dean was both awestruck and dumbstruck at the amount of variety the place had. 

You led him past an entire rack of peanut butter, through a row of refrigerators that had him breathing out cold air from his nose, and he was still in doubt over what was in those cans that claimed to have a whole chicken in them. He was thankful you hadn’t stopped there to find out.  

Soon enough though, your cart filled up to the point he found himself playing Tetris with its contents after discovering Walmart also sold booze. 

Even if he didn’t drink it all on account of his rut, the case of his favourite beer he’d selected was coming with you and he was determined to make it work, with only a single banana being harmed in the process as he rearranged it all for a third time. He ditched the fruit on a shelf displaying margarita mixes and the two of you headed for the cashiers, his arm still wrapped around your waist.

He’d become a pro at steering the metal cage, though honestly, he could drive anything, and he was proud to say, you could leave the store as he’d had no accidents and no alpha had been harmed for looking at you.

Yet.

“Are you sure we need all this stuff?” he asked as you passed another couple with only half the things you had.

“This coming from the guy who had two slices of pie on top of his burger at lunch?” 

Point taken, he supposed, but you’d eaten just as much. You’d had more than him, come to think of it. Lunch, breakfast, the night before. So when you patted his stomach, and he looked down at you grinning at him, he couldn’t help but return a knowing smile.

“You’ll thank me later,” you said.

He knew he would. In more ways than one. 

Still on your way to the front, you passed the nesting department located opposite the cash registers. Of course, it was just another convenient ploy to gain some extra impulse buys from naïve omegas who hadn’t realised they needed that new blanket or another stuffy until they saw the giant pile of fluff.

To Dean’s distaste, you were also won over by the gimmick and he was pulled along for the ride. 

Yes, he was annoyed. He wanted to get you home, maybe taste your pink lady before things really started, and definitely not add more crap to your cart. But he couldn’t help but smirk as he watched your hands glide over every piece of fabric that piqued your fancy. 

Your fingers preened the threads. They stroked the tassels and the weird little fuzzy balls that stuck out like skin tags on an old person. Everything was falling into place, and he pushed all his grumbles aside.

Soon. Tomorrow at the latest, you would be his officially.

But while your inner omega delved into the world of fuzz and all things fluffy and he stood back contented with watching you, an elderly alpha whose back would snap if the wind blew at him too hard was also eyeing you as you picked up a certain colourful blanket that looked very familiar to Dean. 

The fucking perv was hanging around, preying on omegas such as you. He had to be. And he had the nerve to walk up to you and ask your opinions on the thing, as if he was interested in buying one. 

You humoured him, but Dean? He saw right through him.

So did the dick in his head. It was sending messages to his pants and his fingers flexed over the plastic handle of your cart, pulling his knuckles in and out of focus under his taut skin.

“I’ve had this before, but I used it in the living room when I wasn’t nesting too,” you said. “I find it holds scents better—”

As the old guy’s arm reached over to touch the blanket you were holding, Dean stepped in. That was too close for his liking and his inner alpha snarled, “She’s mine,” leading to the more sane version of himself, regretting not bringing the cart closer so he could push him with it. The floor was waxed enough for the wheels to slip and be blamed for any accident.

“This is your alpha?” the Master Roshi wannabe asked, looking Dean up and down. “But you haven’t—”

“Your nose works just fine, asshole,” Dean said through his teeth. “We’re here to get supplies for it, so fuck off.”

Dean turned his back on him and focused on you. His blood was boiling and had he been anywhere else, and that dick been any younger, he would’ve clipped him one. 

As it was, he could feel the old guy still hanging behind him and he dared not turn around for fear of really doing something.

He took the blanket you were holding from your hands and inspected it before placing it on the edge of the pile. It wouldn’t do now that he’d put his mitts on it.

Your mouth opened, about to protest, but Dean flashed you a grin, picked up another that he pulled from the very centre. “It holds people’s scents, yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then this is the one. Only touched you and me,” he said.

He was about to place the bundle on your piled shopping cart when he saw you pout. His hesitation, giving you the chance to pluck it out of his hands and into your arms where it stayed as he paid and drove, taking you to your final destination. A little cabin about thirty minutes north of the small city.

The first thing Dean noticed when he opened the door to Jody’s cabin was the pungent smell. “Is that…lavender?” he asked. His arm balancing the precious case of beer he’d found at Walmart.

“I’m surprised you know what it is.” You chuckled.

So did he, but it wasn’t like he selected the shampoo Sam bought. He just used whatever was on the shower shelf at the time and now recognised the word along with the purple packaging that meant the same flavour old folks and museums liked to spray in their bathrooms was contained inside. 

This didn’t suit Jody, though. She was a badass, and sure she enjoyed chick flicks and bubble baths (he assumed, because who didn’t), but… “She’s too young for this crap,” he muttered as he ran his free hand over the wall, searching for the light switch. 

At first, nothing besides the place smelling like grandma seemed out of the ordinary, but as he readjusted his load and stretched his bow legs over the threshold, it wasn’t the moaning of the floorboards underneath him from the weight of the glass bottles and their contents that caught his attention. It was the spots of something on the floor further inside.

Blood is what his mind went to. What else would a hunter with his skills think? 

Jody had become rather renowned for her side profession and could’ve pissed off a few dicks. Plus, this far into the woods would be an ideal location for wolves or even a nest to squat, and this town had seen its fair share. 

Of course, that wouldn’t explain the stench, or the fact she’d left the key for him under the mat and would’ve noticed something was amiss already, so unless whatever potential threat who was presumably squatting liked pot-pourri and hoodoo, it was a far stretch. 

Then again, witches? Maybe. But also, fuck, not again. Especially when he was this close to going into rut.

Dean looked over his shoulder and, “Wait here,” he said, moving only when your head acknowledged the instruction. 

Those same bow legs carried him down the wide hallway, his free arm kept right next to his side, ready and waiting to draw his gun. If it came down to it, he’d risk the booze, but he soon realised he didn’t have to. Whatever was scattered on the floor cast shadows over the wood grain and smelt just as nasty as the lavender.

The light from the entry wasn’t enough to see clearly even with his keen eyesight, so he lunged the case onto the small dining table with a thump and a tinkling from the glass and searched for another light switch.

Click.

The exposed bulb overhead flickered on, and Dean’s eyes went straight to the ground to be met with… petals? Red ones? 

Huh.

“S’okay, sweetheart. You can come in now. It’s just a bunch of flowers.”

Your steps across the floorboards barely made a noise over the crinkle of plastic from the shopping bags you carried. 

Dean strode over to you, pried the handles from your fingers, and lifted them up beside the casing of beer.

“Flowers and wine,” you said, and Dean flicked his head in the direction you were now headed.

On a small coffee table in the centre of a brilliant brick fireplace and a couple of old couches, two bottles of the stuff and what looked like a card had been placed. 

You picked the piece of folded paper up and read it aloud. “Congratulations, and enjoy your time alone together, J.” You handed the note to him as he approached with a sly smile. “We should buy her a gift before we leave town as a thankyou.” 

“More shopping? We got all that stuff so we wouldn’t have to go anywhere.”

While he was snarking, he scoped out your home for the next week, maybe two, noting the floofy pillows that would suit your needs for a few scenarios. 

“Later. Not now,” you said, and his arm pulled you close, wrapping tightly around your waist.

“It’s a nice idea.” The other scooped between you and shucked up your dress. “Enough about Jody. How’re ya feeling?” he asked against your mating gland, inhaling your scent. Sweet apple, spicy cinnamon, and a touch of whisky nipped at the edge of his throat. “Any changes?” 

Dick’s marks had completely gone. As had any traces of what he’d done to you and Dean was met with options. The right side, or the left for his claim. Maybe even both.

You leaned back with a quirked brow as his fingers ran over your underwear. “Not yet.”

“But you’re wet.” He brought you closer. You weren’t the only one excited. He found the elastic of your panties and slipped inside, skimming through your folds and your warm channel.

“Shouldn’t we get the groceries,” you said, but there was a hitch in your voice at the end when he dipped his middle finger further again.

“Can wait.” He breathed into your ear, pulling you closer to the fireplace and his lap on the couch.

Soon one touch led to another, and despite the many things that still needed to be done around the place before you settled in for the night, they were long forgotten, along with the rest of your groceries in the Impala. It was cold enough out in the woods that an hour wouldn’t hurt, and he would deal with the sigils and logs for a fire later. 

Dean wasted no more time sinking into you, meeting each rock of your hips for a thrust on the worn sofa by the fireplace, clothes still on. 

Best. Decision. Ever.

Even though the wooden frame creaked under your weight and he felt the need to plant his boots firmly into the shaggy rug beneath them to keep the thing upright.

His hands snuck up your dress and cast aside the cups of your bra to knead your slick covered tits. Your panties, pulled to the side, created an extra layer of friction as the elastic caught on his growing knot. 

An ever better decision than he thought, and he sat back, enjoying the show and the little gasps of pleasure you gave him when your clit hit his pubic bone at the perfect angle and ground against it.

“Dean, fuck.” Your hips buckled with one forceful slam.

“Feel good, baby?” He knew you were close. Your muscles fluttering around him and the fresh wave of your juices coating his twitching balls kinda gave it away. “You gonna come on my cock? Let me knot you?”

You were too lost in the moment to answer him. He didn’t care. He revelled in your grinding, how you were growing desperate, and by the way your eyes sparkled when he spoke of his knot.

“Alpha. Need your—” But you didn’t finish your sentence because your body finished on him. 

The climax ripped through you, drawing tremors from your legs, tickling his thighs and lower stomach. 

His hands took yours and pulled them to his neck, soothing your taut arms from your wrists to shoulders, grounding himself in the process. 

His balls were heavy, his sack on fire. Your cunt had sucked his knot inside and the pulses and trickles of your release had his instincts screaming to plough into you. But he wouldn’t. Not yet.

When his fingers moved to your hips and raised them up so that only the tip penetrated your core, your forehead dropped to his. Sweat mixing with sweat. Panted breaths warming his cheeks and lips. 

“Think you can give me one more?” he rasped.

Your laugh was airy. It came out as a shudder. Your skull rocked against his as you shook your head with it, and your hair tangled into his short brown tufts.

“Yeah, you can.” His eyes stared into yours, bouncing emerald green off of the pearly white that surrounded your own vibrant irises. 

His hand moved to stroke your clit with the rough pad of his thumb. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered, and Dean’s chest swelled with pride. 

“Yeah?” he asked with an air of confidence and pressed harder over the sensitive nub.

Your walls clamped around him again, just as he’d hoped. “Alpha, please,” you cried.

As much as he loved the idea of you begging him for it, the pressure down below was reaching boiling point, and he knew a couple of thrusts would do it for him. 

He lifted his ass off the cushion, and sunk halfway into you, tipping the sofa by the weight of his shoulders alone. His fingers on your hip gripped tighter, bruising the flesh below, as he steadied himself and in one fluid motion slammed you and him back down into the seat.

The furniture groaned in protest. 

Your moan was more of a high-pitched cry, and when he raised you up and down again and again in a vicious pace, and his thumb continued to press into your overstimulated clit, it turned into the best version of his name he’d ever heard.

“Omega,” he grunted. 

Your pussy was an inferno. That heat, the friction from your panties and your folds rubbing against him, and the vice-like crush from your inner walls on his shaft soon had him seeing white behind the eyes, leaving his other senses to pick up the slack. He felt each drop of blood pump through his body, from his ears to his knot. 

When it popped and thick, creamy waves of his release flooded your insides, dousing the flames, he swooped in for a searing kiss. 

Your lips were tart and sweet. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you’d been sipping that wine already or chowing down on strawberries, but he’d sat across from you at every meal that day and watched you like a hawk at Walmart so he knew exactly what you’d done and eaten. “Tell me that’s your heat coming on,” he said when he slumped backwards to look at you. 

“Likewise.” Your fingers twisted through his hair. “You feel warm, Alpha.” 

Dean’s boyish chuckle was breathy. “Sweetheart. It’s a house fire down there and that ain’t on me. I already tried putting it out.” 

You didn’t let him down. Your snort was adorable, and he gave you his best cheesy grin in return. 

His inner alpha was not so light-hearted, however, and even after it had gotten its fix and his knot was still very much stuck inside of you, it continued to grumble in the far reaches of his mind, wanting more.

The chant that he should claim you was growing old. He fucking knew that, but while your heat was close, it just hadn’t set in yet, and chomping down on your mating gland now was gonna hurt you unnecessarily. No. Dean would wait, focusing on what you needed in the moment, like any good mate would.

His hands moved to your thighs, grazing his fingers over your sweat lined skin. It was heated, and you shivered at the new sensation, but he wasn’t surrounded by copious amounts of slick and you seemed to have no discomfort. That was part of it, right?

“How’re you feeling?” he said again, and your whole body tensed. Even your inner walls, that had relaxed some, squeezed him tight once more.

“You really wanna know all the nitty-gritty details?” Your eyes narrowed on him. Your frown only deepened the intense gaze you were pulling, and Dean swallowed.

“You’re my mate.” He flashed a grin. “Claim and paperwork pending.” And when you shook your head and sunk into his chest, his lips brushed over your hair, moving his arms to wrap around you and pull you in tighter. “Tell me.”

“Fevers coming,” you mumbled. “Probably smell different?”

He sniffed the air. The usual cinnamon, a touch of vanilla, plus the apple and whisky, sex, and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on infiltrated his nostrils. Your scent was still as intoxicating to him as it had been the very first day you met. “You smell good,” he said, realising how terrible that sounded only after it had spewed from his mouth.

“I should hope so.” You swatted at him, and he hummed in amusement.

“What else?”

“Back aches. My whole lower half, actually.”

On that, Dean moved his hands and began kneading your heated flesh where he could only guess the worst discomfort was. He may not not have claimed someone, but he’d helped the odd omega through their heat, and he knew a thing or two.

“Here?” he asked, but your purr and a contented sigh answered him, and he smiled with reverie.

You fell asleep on him after that, allowing the impending fever to take over your body. He’d have preferred you to have eaten something or even made a trip to the bathroom, but he reminded his inner alpha that you both knew what you were doing.

Not that it was listening.

As he dead locked the back door and drew the last of the salt lines at the base of the wooden frame, it whined, and had Dean looking down.

“You scratched the circle.”

Yes, he was standing on the devil’s trap he’d drawn earlier, but there was not a scratch in sight.

“It’s fine,” he said, not bothering with internal thoughts, though his ears did prick for any hint he’d disturbed you in your sleep. He turned himself around to peer at your form on the other side of the room, but you were still on the couch where he’d left you.

Even from here in the kitchen, he could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead and your cheeks, now a different hue. Your oncoming heat had indeed brought on a fever and he knew when you awoke it would be game time.

The groceries had been brought in, beers sat in the fridge, and he’d even moved the mattress from the master bedroom and set it down before the roaring fire he’d started in the fireplace.

His body and mind were prepped, too. He just wished things would hurry along because you and the flames weren’t the only things heating up the room.

The tip of his cock was a painful red. It was swollen and oozing pre-cum, and though he’d emptied himself into you a couple of hours earlier, as he opened the fridge door and leant down to retrieve a beer, a few drops left his slit and dribbled down his shaft to pool at the dip above his knot.

Fuck. He was overflowing now.

He’d almost come twice in his pants from your scent alone, and after the second occurrence, he ditched them, choosing to wear just his boxers and undershirt.

He reached down and wiped his hand over the soiled underwear, hissing from pleasure and pain as his palm swiped over the sensitive head. But when more leaked from his slit, he gave up and removed them instead, leaving them on the floor to clean up later with the spill.

He grabbed his drink and shut the door, turning back around to find you sitting up, staring at him, and time stopped.

You were awake…

And he was…

“Omega.”

The switch somewhere deep inside of him flicked, and he found himself falling into a familiar place in the backseat of his mind.

Dean was no longer in control of his body, but he still saw, heard and felt everything. His heartbeat, his feet padding across the floor, and the irises in your eyes as he drew closer, sparkling from the flicker of light in the fireplace.

And when your voice said, “Alpha”, just as his had been replaced by the low rumble he knew as well as the back of his hand, yours had changed to a softer, more melodic version of the one he recognised as yours.

You were on him the second he stepped up to you. Your fingers wrapped around his agitated cock, and Dean’s growl reverberated low in his chest as the sweet flavour of apple flooded his senses. “Omega. Mine,” his alpha rasped.

He could practically taste you on his tongue. He could certainly feel your heated skin on him as you worked his length, but the massaging did little to douse the flames in his pulsing sack, and his slit continued to weep.

“Alpha,” you purred, as his seed created a trail down onto your hands. 

‘Fuck.’

Dean licked his lips and grabbed at your dress, yanking at the fabric to get you free. He wanted to see you. To feast his eyes on your breasts and, more importantly, bury himself in your dripping cunt again and again. 

His hands pawed at your neckline, growing flustered when it didn’t budge, and red marks from the edging cutting into your skin from his tugs appeared.

“Let me.” You touched his cheek, nodding your head with assurance when his alpha glowered with his pride. 

The thought of needing assistance and less friction on his hardened flesh had his temper rising. “Fine,” he spat. “But hurry up.”

Your breasts pushed towards him as you reached behind yourself to undo the zip. Each click of the metal prongs being pulled apart met his ears, but it was far too slow for his alpha’s liking and soon Dean was pawing at the garment again. 

Once it was loose enough, he plucked it from your body and threw it along with your bra and panties over his head, corralling you where he saw fit.

He planted your chin, chest and calves into the mattress. He forced your rear into the air, presenting your glistening folds, much to his delight. The copious amounts of fluid Dean had imagined earlier engulfed your entrance and laced the inner creases of your thighs.

His nose honed into your centre, breathing in the tangy slick as he ran his lips through yours. The pad of his thumb found your clit, and it flicked against the small bud, eliciting moans, whimpers, and gasps, all stroking his ego. All urging him to continue.

When you shuddered, his mouth curved at the sides. His alpha taking everything it wanted from you, pulling more and more of your release from deep within your body. His dick throbbed at the sight.

If you were making a mess, he’d created an oil spill. Pre-cum continued to leak from his tip, and soon even he was begging the beast in control to do something about it. 

‘Claim her. Make her ours.’

He’d agonised over claiming you since you’d met and now that the opportunity presented itself, he didn’t wanna draw it out any longer. He needed you in more ways than one, and the alpha obliged. 

With a feral smirk, his fingers ran back over your folds, earning another whimper from your lungs and another wave of slick to surge from your body. The same hand came up and took hold of himself, pumping once, twice, three times, before lining up and ramming into you. 

Your hips buckled at the intrusion. Yet when he pulled out again so that only his head sat warm and snug inside, you inched back onto him, demanding his attention.

“There’s my beautiful omega.” He chuckled, as you continued to drag your pussy over him. “So perfect, and still hungry for more.” His fingers dug into your hips and he pushed into you again, giving you what you both wanted. “You need your alpha to knot you, baby girl?”

Your response was to moan, and the sound urged him on. “Yeah, you do,” he grunted. His thrusts, hard and fast. “You need your alpha to put out the fire.” 

Every piece of him enjoyed the view of you taking him in, from the tip to his swelling knot. Your walls kept squeezing and pulling him in deeper. “So fucking good ‘mega. Gonna fill you up and make you mine.”

He relaxed his grip on you and crawled up your spine, pushing your body down further into the mattress, and himself further into you. “Say it. Tell me you wanna be mine.” 

“I wanna be yours,” you said between pants, and Dean groaned against the edge of your hairline. He was so close to your mating gland, he could taste the sweet blood below the surface. 

He pulled your hair to the side and traced his tongue over the delicate skin of your neck, licking and sucking a path to his goal. He inhaled your scent when he found the pulse point and rubbed whiskey and leather and a hint of buttery pastry onto you before his teeth moved to scrape over the sensitive flesh. His body froze above you.

The canines broke the thin barrier first, and when his incisors sunk into you next, the metallic warmth of your lifeblood rushed into his mouth and trickled down his throat. 

As he swallowed, and continued to press his bite into you, a wave of electricity spread over him. Every nerve, every hair, every drop of sweat tingled and while his arms and legs grew heavy, his head lightened and memories long forgotten climbed to the surface and flashed before his eyes.

Amongst them, Bobby’s death, and his time in hell before it. The agony of losing Sammy to the cage when Dean knew what awaited him. The mark taking over his life and losing people because of it. Their screams. Their cries. The hatred as his own weapon carved into them. The Steins, Abbadon, Randy.

But then the voice of a female overtook them. One so familiar, yet one he couldn’t quite place. Her pleas cut him deep, churning his insides as if each organ were drowning in a sea of acid.

“No, no. Please don’t.”

“I swear, I’ve never seen him before.”

“He just helped me, that’s all.”

“Baby, please.”

The more he heard her words, the more his face cut into Dean’s memories, and “Ritchie, stop! Please!” stood out amongst all else.

That’s when he realised who the cries belonged to. The tears, the pain, the dread. They weren’t his, they were…

…yours.

Brilliant green eyes stared back at you as your alpha licked at the wound on your mating gland. He’d started thrusting again, and while the pressure deep in your gut begged for his knot and his essence, your mind was more focused on those eyes.

Their sparkle that you’d come to know was lost, faded, and full of pain. He was being tortured. Fire and chains reflected in them and on his freckled skin, marred by blood and scars so fresh, you couldn’t place them from what was before you now.

Dean was hurt. He was—

“Sammy!” he yelled.

“The mark isn’t gonna kill me,” he spat.

But when you tried to call out to him and soothe the ache you felt, he couldn’t hear you because your inner omega was in the driver’s seat. And while she cared for you as much as you did for her, for Dean, she was more concerned with the alpha’s thrusts. With mewling. With encouraging him. With drawing his knot in.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

And there we are ✌️

I've been agonisingly waiting for this one, and I do hope you were surprised. I’m rather proud of the POV switch up. We will still get in Dean’s head, but we’ll also be in hers which is perfect for what’s about to come.

Remember how I keep mentioning not to get too comfortable, well, here we are. Do you think they'll pull through all this new information?

The next chapter will potentially be triggering for some readers. Mentions of pregnancy loss is included amongst what we've already seen and explored, but things are going to come out in more details including how extensive Dick’s abuse was.

Chapter 8: Disconcerting 11/04

You.

You weren’t supposed to be a part of that chapter in his life. He’d planned to keep you at a distance from all of it. He…

He.

He looked up so that he wouldn’t see your face through the kaleidoscope of colours that his wet eyes brought with them. “I—” All he could do was squeeze you tighter.

“Dean. It’s okay.”

He still didn’t have the words to continue his apology. Nothing could ever make up for what you’d seen, and his voice caught in the lump that had manifested in his throat. By the time it did reach the surface, it sounded more like that of a small child, then that of a grown man.

“No, it’s not.”

“It is.”

“S’not. This is what I was trying to keep ya from.” 

He was dangerous. He was a grunt. He was mud on the sole of his boot, and you? He’d brought you into this shitty life of his. “It’s bad enough you had to go through what Dick did to you. But he did it ‘cause of me. I’m poison, and if you hadn’t met me, you—”

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[yanderes-galore]

Venom won the fic poll so here's my attempt at writing him... them...? Sorry the second half is rushed... I honestly didn't have a plot in mind and just... let my mind wander.

I want to write Loki, Moon Knight, and Doctor Strange at some point for Marvel Rivals... but I'll be spacing out any other personal fics I do between requests. Like a little treat for my brain rot.

Lethal Protector

Yandere! Venom (Marvel Rivals) Oneshot

Pairing: Dubious

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavior, Violence, Blood, Murder, Kidnapping, Restraints, Clingy behavior, Dubious turned forced companionship/relationship.

No matter the universe, it's hard to get used to Venom. Symbiotes have always been seen as monsters, especially in this timeline displacement event. However... this version of Venom, is one of the only ones where he's become a hero.

Eddie and Venom are one being now. They are Venom and have pushed aside their desire to consume others. For the most part, at least....

They claim they're a hero now, a protector trying to fix the crumbling multiverse that threatens to harm you all. You have even gotten involved due to your timeline merging with all the others. Encountering Venom was a concerning meeting at first...

But you'll take any help you can get.

You already have enough to deal with. You're meeting people you thought you knew only to find out they're from a different universe at a completely different time. There's two Dr. Dooms fighting, Hydra's in contact with eldritch beings, Knull is waking up, Bast is corrupted, Loki's taken over, Dracula...

You had your hands full enough as is.

When you met Venom, like many of the other familiar faces you witnessed, you were tired. Like everyone you're struggling to find a way to stop all this warring. Dealing with a symbiote was the last thing on your list....

Yet... Venom wasn't your typical ball of alien goop. They have a host and are in sync with them relatively well. You had first encountered the beast on Klyntar in an attempt to help the Guardians get Knull under control.

Like most of the wildlife on this planet, you expected Venom to attack you.

They never did, in fact...

You caught the symbiote defending you from another of its kind.

Since then you accepted the symbiote around you. As long as the beast doesn't try to eat your face, you'll accept teaming up. Speaking with the beast even allowed you to learn more about them.

The host was named Eddie. Together with the symbiote they were Venom. While once a beast that tormented Spider-Man in their universe... their connection with Knull was severed then. This lead to some... individuality.

Venom was now considered a lethal protector. Lethal you could see from just looking at them. Although, protector...?

That was a new sight to you.

You had partnered with Venom across various new locations with many different faces. You never bothered considering them a threat. After all, there were worse things to consider.

It also meant you never quite had enough time to process the changes in Venom's behavior around you.

It was hard to tell when the beast was extra ruthless. While intelligent, Venom acted like a towering guard dog around you. Many other faces you've met tended to comment on how insistent Venom is around you.

Even Spider-Man, someone who's used to Venom chasing him down, asked how you managed to 'tame the beast'.

You don't really know how yourself. You simply fought alongside the beast at Klyntar. Ever since then, the beast has followed you around.

Downtime is something you cherish in times like this. It doesn't even seem like you can get that alone anymore. Not that you really want to be alone in the places you find yourself in....

You quietly sit down in a place so familiar to your own world... yet altered. It's all uncanny to you as you try to remember what home was. Before you can, a large presence slams beside you, startling your thoughts before it comes crawling over.

"We wish to know why you are so quiet?" The beast hisses, settling behind you. You feel the protoplasm of the beast shift beside you as Venom looks down at you. You sigh, calming the tension in your body.

"I just... miss home. I see so many traces of it yet it's never the same." You admit, glancing at Venom. "I'm tired of being in danger all the time... I don't want to be alone."

"You don't wish to be alone?" The beast echoes as though trying to understand your conflict. You nod quietly, exhausted.

"I never know who's friend and who's foe. Everything's all messed up and I don't know who I can trust!" You admit, barely picking up the subtle way the beast shifts closer to you.

"Do you trust us?" The creature hisses, studying you. "We wish to trust you."

"I..." You hesitate, having trouble looking into the milky white eyes of the symbiote. "Yes, Venom. I trust you. You... haven't eaten my brain yet, at least."

"We do not plan to eat your brain." Venom growls as if offended by the idea. "You are much too..."

A brief pause is heard and you tilt your head. You weren't expecting them to hesitate as they look at you.

"... You are... inedible. We cannot eat you. We do not wish to." Venom manages to respond. You can't tell if you're offended or not until the beast shifts closer, black body sticking to your clothes.

"We only wish to protect you. Won't you let us? We are friend... You may trust us." Venom hisses, tongue lashing as they press closer.

"Uh, yeah... Yeah, you can protect me... Just... stop touching me?" You ask, pressing against Venom's chest with a hand. You immediately grimace as the black goop nearly envelops you. The beast the chuckles a growl, nodding before pulling back.

"Fine... We will give you space." The beast grins, "For now."

Protection. Trust. You didn't expect that to be a slippery slope. With how Venom stuck around you, you didn't think he'd do anything... wrong.

You underestimated Venom's words, it seems...

After all... You said you couldn't trust ANYONE, right?

....

A slimy appendage swipes across your face as you wake from your temporary slumber. The smell of something wet and metallic tingles in your nostrils as you sit up. At least... You try.

Yet the beast's black tendrils tighten on your body, large white eyes staring down at you.

You struggle to remember what happened. Your head hurts and you keep feeling something wet hit your face. After that... It doesn't take long for you to realize a tongue is hitting your face.

You struggle immediately, the beast above you growling as it tightens its hold. You can now see it's Venom who is holding you hostage once your vision returns. You struggle... but the sticky symbiote won't let you go.

"Venom, What the hell—?" You freeze when you look around yourself. The area around you stunk of blood. Traces of the red substance covered the area as you pull at Venom's hold.

You smell it on them too, the stench making you freeze on the spot.

"Scared? We took care of it. You were in danger. Danger's gone now." Venom answers in a matter of fact tone.

"Danger...? What danger? Danger where?" You try to ask, Venom choosing to nuzzle your head instead of answering.

"Gone. Danger is gone. We said we will keep you safe." Venom answers, licking their teeth as they hold you in their claws and tendrils.

You look around to see where Venom brought you. It's an alternate version of your home, you can tell that much. It looks so different... especially with the amount of blood splashed across the ground.

"... Who did you hurt, Venom...?" You force yourself to ask, heart racing.

"Who does not matter. We got rid of the danger." Venom responds simply. "We brought you home, too."

"Venom—!"

"You said no one is trustworthy but us." Venom growls, "Why do you care? We are the only ones worthy of working with you."

"Let me go, now, I can't—!" You plead, only for Venom to roar and pin you. You feel yourself stuck on the bloodied floor, four sets of claws pinned beside you while symbiote tendrils coil around your midsection.

"We will not be letting you go just to see you nearly get killed again!" The beast roars on top of you, tightening their hold. "We plan to keep our promise. You said you miss your friends... You said you miss home. We're meant to be your friend, we took you home!"

The hold is tighter, suffocating, yet oddly comforting despite the gooey texture and uncanny environment.

"We shall be your friend. We shall be your home. We... shall be yours." Venom growls, tongue dripping with saliva as they stare you down.

"You... shall be ours."

Venom was not the threat you expected to be your downfall in this multiversal problem. Many who were dragged into this may very well die. Naively... You wished Venom would've focused more on the big picture.

Instead, to Venom, there was only one goal that mattered to them now more than home...

That goal was keeping you all for themselves, for protection... at least, you can only hope that's why.

[dunmeshistash]

Maybe I am to yaoipilled but does Lycion have a crush on Mithrun? (Thinking he looks strong and handsome and not wanting Kabru to touch him; this could be elf racism too to be fair)

Being yaoipilled is being correct.

I mean... yes Lycion seems to have some fondness for Mithrun, most of the canaries actually! I think Otta is the only one for their squad who seems indifferent (or even negative) about him, in the AB she's translated as calling him as slave-driver and for people who aren't native english speakers (like me) slave-driver is "a person who works others very hard"

For the others Fleki thinks hes funny, Pattadol respects him as a captain and Cithis respects him cause he resisted her mind control before and Lycion's opnion of him is "つよーい" which is like "he's soo strooong" (the dash makes the sound longer) which is pretty yaoi if you ask me

Going over the things you mentioned yes he compliments Mitrhun unprompted when they manage to find him even calls him handsome (男前)

And like you said he's overprotective of Mithrun when he thinks Kabru is being overfamiliar, this can be racism but from his track record I'd say he's being jealous, especially because his wording is "you're acting way too familiar with the captain there" "Don't pretend to understand him just because you spent a little bit of time together" sounds very jealous "you dont get him like I do"

It's different from when Pattadol, for example, was saying something similar to Cithis for being overly familiar with Mithrun

Might not be a crush but I think Lycion definitely has affection for Mithrun and is very yaoi about how he shows it, which matches his pretty boy trope.

Also fun fact but each guard is responsible for 2 prisoners and in Mithrun's squad Lycion and Fleki are under Pattadol while Cithis and Otta are under Mithrun

So maybe the fact Mithrun isn't responsible for them directly makes them like him more too? (Cause in comparison to Pattadol he's way more chill, but anyone is) and perhaps that's also why Otta is more annoyed at him since he's directly responsible for ordering her around lmao.

[h0nology]

Protect You

saw a prowler! miles and the weeknd edit and that did it for me fr. i can’t…anyways, enjoy 🤭

warnings: he’s just a little overprotective, kissing, cussing, pet names

your friends had been begging you for weeks to come to some birthday bash one of their friends we’re having, you always ignored the question, knowing how your boyfriend was. no, he’s not controlling or anything. he just wants you to be safe. he doesn’t really like you being out alone, especially at night and how dangerous the city is. but you didn’t want to let your friends down.

so here you are, getting ready to go to a party.

you haven’t spoken to miles since earlier today, he said he had some stuff to handle and you just left it at that, knowing how he gets when you question him. this was all kind of perfect, he was busy so he wouldn’t be worried about you. for now at least.

it didn’t take you long to get ready, throwing on a random dress and some sneakers to go along with it. you scrolled through your phone, waiting for your friends to finish getting ready. once they finally were, you all made your way out the house and began to walk to the party, gladly it wasn’t far, knowing how these streets were. you all reached the party after ten minutes of walking. you could hear the music blasting before you even reached the door, some people stood outside mingling as the three of you approached the door, your friend opening it. the house was packed. people talking and dancing, the music being even louder than before, flashing strobe lights? a bit extra, but fun you suppose.

as soon as you stepped in the door, your friends were pulling you to dance with them. you really had two left feet but you still danced anyways, enjoying yourself and the moment you were having with them. you all talked with each other, took pictures, and danced for hours. but now you were tired, and thirsty. you excuse yourself from your friends, and squeezed past people to get to the kitchen, you pushed the kitchen door open where you found some water bottles on a counter, you cracked the bottle open and leaned against the counter as you chugged it down.

“hey—”

“shit!” you jumped, almost spitting your water out, “sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” the stranger, who was standing way too close laughs.

“can you back up?!” you look at the little space in between the two of you.

the boy throws his hands up in defense and backs up from you, a smug look on his face. you rolled your eyes, already seeing where this was going.

“i saw you dancing earlier, you’re pretty good.” he says.

“i guess.” you shrug. this man was lying straight to your face; you were a terrible dancer.

“would you like to dance?”

“i have a boyfriend.” you shook your head.

“one dance won’t hurt.” he says, slowly making his way back over towards you, “plus, i don’t see him here.”

“turn around then.”

the familiar voice startled the boy. hell, it even startled you a little too. the boy turned around, revealing miles standing by the door, a mug on his face–along with a few cuts.

“look, i don’t want any trouble man.” the boy says, “you should’ve thought about that before you approached my girl.” miles says.

“i-i didn’t know.” he began to stutter, “i literally just told–” you started.

“i got this.” miles glares over at you before snatching the boy up by his collar, “if you go near her, if i see you talking to her, if i even see you looking at her…just know i’m not going as easy on you as i did tonight.” he threatened, “now get outta here before i beat your ass.” he finally let the boy go, who immediately ran out the kitchen.

“miles–”

“let’s go.” he grabs your hand, pulling you out the kitchen.

“miles! i could’ve handled that!” you yelled over the music.

he just ignored you, continuing to pull you out the party. finally, you two reached outside where you pulled your hand from his.

“what did i tell you about being out so late?” he didn’t yell, he never yelled at you but his voice was stern.

“i was just trying to have fun.” you muttered as you two continued to walk.

“and look where that got you.”

he was right. but it wasn’t your fault people were so damn weird.

before you could even blink, he was standing in front of you, stopping your from walking. you refused to look at him, even when he tilted your chin up.

“look at me.” he says and you roll your eyes over to meet his, “i’m not tryna control your life or anything like that, you’re just one of the few people i actually care about, i can’t lose you. i just wanna make sure you’re safe, ma.”

“i know.”

“so don’t go out all late without me, aight?” it sounds like a question but he’s not really asking you, he’s telling you.

“i hear you, miles.” you playfully role your eyes.

“you better.” he jokes (but not really) quickly stealing a kiss from your lips.

you two start walking again, this time with miles’s arm around you.

“can we talk about what happened to your face now?” you ask.

“nah, but we can talk about how pretty that dress looks on you.”

[alastorss]

Hii I love your writing! Is it alright if you do headcanons for platonic Alastor x teen reader where we're his teen daughter? I feel like he'd be fun to gossip with- is it alright if you do some headcanons on what he'd be like if guys asked us out too?

a/n: hi hello sweetest! thank you for reading 🫶 please enjoy these headcanons!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

• Oh Alastor... he's absolutely a huge gossip. He knows everyone's business because he's always poking his nose around where it doesn't belong

• Also, he's got connections all over town so you best believe he knows everyone's business even outside the hotel

• I honestly don't think Alastor knows all that much about parenthood, only that it's now his responsibility how you turn out as an adult

• Passes down his mother's recipes to you so that if you two are separated when you get older, you'll always have a piece of him

• He's not good at expressing how much he cares about you so doing little things like that are the easiest way for him to get his point across

• Frets over you to make sure you're dressed properly, makes sure you're fed every day, and has endless stories to tell you about in case you get bored (would tell you about all the murders he did when he was alive and look so proud)

• Doesn't take you talking back to him well. Makes his problems with your attitude very vocal but never lays a hand on you

• (Upon further discussion with others, learns to just give you space when you're going through something)

• He wouldn't know if he'd want you to be just like your old man (evil, sadistic, insane) or if he wants to see you be redeemed and to shape you into that type of demon (kind, patient, sort of like Charlie)

• Would be so proud of you for killing other demons but then worry about your future if you end up staying in Hell

• Alastor is an overprotective dad. I know it, you know it, we all know it. There are few things he cares about in his afterlife, but you are close to the top if not the top of the list of his priorities

• Oh boy. Someone's flirting with you? They better be worthy of the Radio Demon's child otherwise they're in for a world of hurt

• Sulks and complains in his own roundabout ways when you bring guys home, bitching about them because he thinks they're nothing more than pests flocking around you

• If anyone breaks your heart... let's just say you're no stranger to hearing some familiar voices in your dad's broadcast

• Alastor scoffs at those who try to ask you out, having the balls to show up at the doorstep of the hotel. They're not worth any of your time but as long as you're not bothered by it, he'll allow it

• Still doesn't see the appeal in all this romance stuff. Is delighted when you just turn people down and acts so proud because you take after him

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc (send an ask to be added!)

[vanilladove]

Hello, I am writing to you anonymously out of shame but you can call me Emy I was reading your blog and I was totally delighted with how you wrote and I wanted to make a request: could you write for Chuuya, Jouno, Dazai and Poe (you can add more if you like) with a reader like Mikan from danganronpa If you don't know her, her personality is a little (very) shy and she is surprised by the slightest show of affection (she is even surprised if you say good morning), often despising herself, asking others to forgive her existence and when people Annoyed with her, she tends to ask if she can take off her clothes or imitate a pig so that they can forgive her for all this because she suffered harassment in the past. I'm sorry if the request is very big 😭 but I would be grateful if you accept it (nothing happens if you don't either) I'm sorry if there are spelling errors but English is not my first language and I am using Google Translator. ♡

⋆˚࿔ ˚⋆ bsd men with a v shy + fragile reader

bow divider yeribbon

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: various bsd men x gn!reader (dazai, atsushi, chuuya, akutagawa, jouno, poe)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: comforting fluff!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: none! also i'm not v familiar with daganronpa, so apologies for any inaccuracies! i'm just going off what wiki fandom says (。-∀-)

⊹ ࣪ ˖ dazai osamu

doesn't mind your personality, although at first he teases you mercilessly until he realizes it isn't just an act.

as someone that has also gone through trauma, he would gradually soften up to your personality and reassure you of your worth.

dazai is a very impatient man though, so expect his method of choice to be exposure therapy...like extreme exposure therapy...like bro might slap some sense into you like atsushi & akutagawa ( ó × ò)

when you start over-apologizing, he'll put a finger to your lips and stroke your face and hair to calm you down (ღˇᴗˇ)｡o

expect lots of subtle displays of affection like hand kisses, kissing away tears, and general affectionate flirting.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ atsushi nakajima

your demeanor confuses atsushi at first, to the point where he cries after the first time he meets you :,(

you're going to get a sentimental, heartfelt speech about how you deserve to live, and how you aren't a burden to anyone.

poor atsu cries over you--you guys probably have daily cry + cuddle sessions.

will do random things to cheer you up and give you many words of affirmation.

buys you a tiger plushie sprayed with his cologne to cuddle with when he isn't with you for comfort ♡

i'd like to think that through helping you, atsushi also helps address his own self-esteem issues ^w^

⊹ ࣪ ˖ akutagawa ryunosuke

hates you at first and sees you as a cowardly weakling.

it isn't until one day he randomly compliments or helps you and catches your shy/flustered expression that he begins to feel some sympathy.

will gradually visit you more until you stop flinching whenever he approaches you. he can tell you're intimidated by him because of his personality and notorious reputation.

it's definitely hard for akutagawa to be soft with you, since he's a rough person, but he tries his best to be gentle with you.

shows his care through actions more than words (sharing food with you, doing constant check-ins, guiding your back when walking with you, etc.)

promises threatens to kill those who have harmed and harassed you in the past.

becomes overprotective over you, getting mad when anyone--even jokingly--teases you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ chuuya nakahara

tough love~!!!

expect a lot of "huh, what the hell are you talking about?" anytime you apologize for something small or suggest some self-sabotage

since you aren't used to affection and often try to reject gifts, thinking you aren't worth giving them to, chuuya will 'lovebomb' you with gifts until you get used to them as the norm and accept them willingly.

although he may seem short-tempered and easily irritated, he'll always make time to sit down with you and listen to your rants/past stories and engage in deep conversations.

holds your hands and reminds you of how strong and talented you are--will keep drilling it into your head until it sticks.

carries tissues in his suit for when you cry.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ edgar allen poe

this man may be your twin...honestly he's a bit of a mess himself, so he doesn't know how to help you.

i think poe would be relieved to find someone similar to him--also very shy and awkward/bad at socializing.

if you started apologizing when there was a pause in conversation, he would probably apologize back, and you two would go back and forth until karl bites him (꒪▿꒪)

since you both mainly only find confidence in your talents/skills, he would get to know your strengths as much as possible and encourage you to do your best!

will also share his book plots with you, taking you with him into the books and getting your feedback, never missing the chance to show you something beautiful he secretly wrote just for you

overall, poe would make you feel less alone and isolated, helping you gain confidence overtime!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ jouno saigiku

since you're already so fragile and frantic, jouno wouldn't find any pleasure in torturing or messing with you

ends up helping you under the pretense of "calming down your raging heartbeat and nerves that are too loud"; in reality, he notices how you're always on edge and just wants you to experience some peace and quiet.

jouno's sensitive to others' emotions, so i think if you were having a panic attack or extreme anxiety, he'd immediately hug + hold you until you calmed down again (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

like the rest, he'd offer you words of affirmation and hold your hand in public/around other people.

will stick around you to ward off anyone who tries to bully you or exploit your personality; blushes uncontrollably if you thank him for his simple acts ♡

[goodlucktai]

only going up from here

rise of the tmnt word count: 4k pairing: leo & mikey i wrote this for one of my very favorite people and best friends, the bentley to my bookshop and ben to my sammy and mikey to my leo. HAPPY BIRTHDAY @mykimouser! i'm genuinely better off for having you in my life, it would be significantly darker around here without you. i hope your day is absolutely amazing and you're surrounded by people who love you and you get everything you want forever <3 title borrowed from bummerland by AJR read on ao3

x

If you asked Mikey if he was protective of Leo, he would say of course he is! He wouldn’t even have to think about it, what kind of question is that? He’s protective of everything and everyone he loves, and he loves all his siblings more than life itself.  

If you asked Mikey if he was overprotective of Leo, he would say whaaaat? I don’t—I think you’re breaking up actually, shhhcchhkkchhssh—and he’d artfully dodge the conversation by literally sprinting away from it.

The thing is, Mikey knows how annoying it is to have well-meaning loved ones go into hypervigilant mode anytime they come within a five-foot radius of your person. He’s been lobbying since he was twelve for Raph to take the kid gloves off! And throw them far away!! Down a deep hole that Donnie could fill with cement and Leo could plant fake biohazard warning signs around so that no one would ever dare excavate!! 

But Leo has always been independent, more than any of the rest of them. More than maybe he really wanted to be. He takes care of himself, like he has to—like there aren’t a half dozen people around him who would happily do it, who want to do it, who would jump at the first chance to prove that he can depend on them for anything. 

Mikey doesn’t know when Leo got this idea in his head that dealing with him is a chore but it’s an idea that grew up with him. That grew about ten feet taller after the Krang invasion. It’s always towering over them, keeping Leo even further from the people who love him with both its long unwanted arms. 

Sometimes Mikey can slink past those arms and find the hole that Leo hides in and climb in there with him. He’s the best at it, because he’s the smallest, and the one their enemy’s eyes tend to jump right over when they’re sussing out a fight. He can go places the others can’t. And it’s a rule of the universe that once he gets within hugging distance of his brothers, they’re compelled at a molecular level to hug him. 

When they’re holed up together, in that place Leo goes to when he’s alone, it gets a little warmer but it’s still cold. It feels like one of those early winter mornings when the shadows are the longest and darkest and cover more ground than they do the rest of the year and Mikey is just waiting for that spring thaw. He’s been waiting for what feels like forever, but he knows it’ll come. He knows it will.

Two months after the invasion, the sun peeks out.  

“I’m going to tío’s,” Leo announces to the lair, one foot out the door already. 

There’s an immediate crash from the lab, and the familiar sound of a weighted barbell falling on a snapper’s chest from the dojo, as two older brothers scramble to either throw their entire weight into stopping him somehow (impossible) or at least convince him that one of them should tag along (more likely, but Leo would not be happy about it). 

Mikey scrambles from his upside-down seat on the sofa to poke his head over the back of it and call out, “Can I come?” 

Leo glances back down the hall, probably calculating the seconds until his quick escape is botched, but then he looks back at Mikey with that crooked, mischievous smile that’s been Mikey’s favorite since he was two.

“Grab your shoes, Miguelito. We’re prison breaking.” 

“Gimme two shakes!” Mikey says over his shoulder, already bolting for his room. 

Mikey’s arms have mostly healed up from the golden portal he opened into the Prison Dimension. There isn’t a crack or a scar left but the lingering nerve damage is killer. The colorful custom arm braces that Draxum sourced for him help a lot and he’s good about remembering to wear them—so there is really no reason for their entire family to be such worrywarts about it. Especially when Don’s shell is still too tender for battle armor and Raph’s lucky he can still see out of his right eye. 

“It’s because you’re both the babies,” April said a few weeks into their collective recovery period, poking Mikey right on the beak that he had wrinkled in frustration. “The youngest in the whole clan. Even Casey Jr.’s older than you two. Deal with it.” 

Donatello is technically a month older than his twin, not that either of them care about pesky things like birth dates. They’re twins in their souls. Even though that means Leo has to grit his teeth and plot convoluted revenge when Donnie dares play the older twin card. 

But also, Mikey knows even though no one has come out and said it, they’re the two who scared the rest of their family the most. 

Donnie and Raph did what they had to do because it was their direct responsibility. Donnie was the only person alive who could have piloted the Technodrome with some degree of success even without his ninpo-powered technopathy. And Raph gave Leo his escape pod because his top priorities have always started and ended with his little brothers. If there had been another way out, he would have taken it. 

Mikey was willing to disintegrate to get Leo out, holding that portal open even though it hurt, even though every ounce of instinct and intuition was telling him to let go, even though he had no way of really knowing it would work the way he wanted it to. Leo threw himself feet first into hell for the rest of them and came out the other side broken and bleeding and traumatized, and he wasn’t sorry he did it. He would do it again, and again, and again. 

So—Mikey gets it. He does. 

It doesn’t stop him from cramming his Jordans on and snatching up the nearest hoodie—pink; he never gave that back to Raphie, oops. He whirls around to find Leo in his doorway, sword slung over his shoulder, weight braced on the neon blue foldable crutch in his opposite arm. 

“Little rowdy back there,” Leo says peacefully, regarding the state of chaos in the lair as their older brothers actively hunt them down. “Let’s take off from here.”

“You got it, boss,” Mikey chirps, hopping in place as he ties his shoe. 

The cyan portal opens as easily as April opens her bedroom window to usher them in for a movie night, bright and inviting. Having opened a portal of his own, Mikey has a brand-new appreciation for how incredible Leo’s ninpo is. He’s never hesitated to hop right through, even back when Leo was still getting the hang of it—either he’ll go where he’s meant to, or he’ll have a fun adventure wherever he does end up. Literally win-win. 

He steps out into Run of the Mill’s back of house. A harried server pauses mid-step to give him a strange look. Then she visibly clocks the blue of the portal behind him, rolls her eyes and continues on her way. Mikey beams at her retreating figure. She should know who Leo is, Leo is the best. 

Leo takes long enough to join him that Mikey has started poking around in the dry storage area. 

“Raph caught me,” Leo says faux-somberly. “I let him know we’d be home by dinner.” 

“With some calzones as a peace offering,” Mikey says with a nod, matching his grave tone. It makes Leo crack a smile, because it’s always charming to him when his siblings commit to the bit. 

“Can I please get through for a can of tomato paste,” a salamander yokai in an apron and unnecessary hairnet says loudly from behind them. Oh, they are kind of just hogging the whole doorway, huh?

“Weeeell, since you said please,” Leo replies, steering Mikey by the shoulders out of dry storage through the prep kitchen and out the employees-only door. 

Mikey ambles along agreeably, and accepts the hot basket of mozzy sticks Leo plops into his hands without questioning where it came from, and hops up into a seat at the bar since the dining room is pretty full. 

“I’m gonna go bug tío Hueso for a bit,” Leo says. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and if you do—”

“—deny everything and throw Draxum under the bus however I possibly can,” Mikey recites. He would never actually throw Draxum under the bus—unless it was a really funny bus—but they both know that so there’s no point bringing it up. 

“You’re my favorite,” Leo tells him. He knocks his knuckles on the bartop to get the attention of the rabbit yokai back there and wiggles his fingers in a wave when he has it. The yokai’s fur poofs a bit, like always, and he immediately drops the handful of forks he was holding with a noisy clatter. Then Leo whirls off to go make trouble elsewhere, crutch slowing him down not at all. 

The rabbit yokai is one Mikey knows pretty well from a hundred other afternoons just like this one. Usagi isn’t old enough to serve drinks, but he likes to roll silverware behind the bar so he can prop his phone up beneath the counter and watch TikToks. He always watches the Hamatos when they come in—maybe one Hamato in particular. 

It would probably make him less flustered around Leo if he knew that Leo’s entire family had a betting pool going on the two of them. Or maybe it would make it worse. Hmmmm. Mikey won’t mention it just in case. 

“Hi, Usagi,” Mikey says cheerfully, popping open the lid on the marinara sauce nestled into his ill-gotten gains. “Mozzy stick?”

“Hi, Mikey,” Usagi replies. “No, thanks. I’ve already eaten like a million garlic knots today and señor Hueso is making me take the leftover lasagna home since Auntie isn’t back until—” He cuts himself off, embarrassed. He always volunteers a ton of information and then wrongly assumes his friends don’t want to hear about all of that and reels himself back in. “Anyway! How are things?”

“Good!” Mikey says. “I’ve been one-hundred percenting all my Pokemon games since I’m stuck inside so much.”

Instead of remarking on that, or on the bright eye-catching colors of his arm braces, Usagi says, “Woah, even Diamond?”

“Yeah! Ohmigosh, I forgot to tell you, I caught Feebas!” Mikey pulls his phone out to show him proof, the victorious picture taken of his Switch screen. “I finally had to just lock in and totally ignore my phone for like two hours. Raph definitely thought I died when I didn’t reply to a meme Donnie sent in our group chat. Check it out!” 

Usagi leans over the bar to see and his reaction is everything Mikey could have hoped for. He gasps, “It’s a shiny?” 

“It’s a shiny!” Mikey hollers, then ducks his head a bit when the actual bartender gives the two of them a pointed look. Tucking his phone away, he says, “So what is your aunt up to? And what does it have to do with leftover lasagna?” 

“Oh! Well, she’s visiting with her sister, and I told her I could definitely fend for myself while she was gone, but yesterday there was kind of an incident with the microwave—”

Someone settles into a stool at Mikey’s right, and cuts right over Usagi to say, “Hey, Michael, right?”

Mikey glances over to find a really tall cat yokai, tawny fur with a black rosette pattern which makes Mikey think of a jaguar, except his ears are long and fluffy, and his face is distinctly more human than feline. 

“Half-right,” Mikey responds, frowning. “You just completely talked over my friend, bee tee dubs.”

“I’m sorry!” the cat is quick to apologize. “I didn’t realize you were friends, I thought he just worked here. You don’t mind, do you?” he adds to Usagi. 

Usagi has the deer-in-headlights look of someone thrust into a social interaction they Do Not Want To Have, and Mikey cringes a little at himself for it. Resolving to make it up to him later, he swivels in his seat to get the attention back on himself. 

“What’s up?” he says, hoping they can speedrun whatever this is. 

“I was just wondering how you’ve been since the invasion,” the cat says. “We haven’t seen you or your brothers around here much recently.” 

“Yeah, we’ve been spending more time at home,” Mikey says, the usual canned response they’ve taken to giving when their friends and associates wonder about their less frequent appearances lately. “We had some close calls but—you know, we won, so.” 

Usagi’s ear twitches, and his mouth turns down, and he gives the silverware he’s rolling his full attention. He has a lot of feelings about the Hamatos being involved in a huge fight that he was completely unaware of until it was long over. Mikey thinks he would have helped if they’d asked him to. He’d definitely do anything if Leo asked. But how could they ask? 

The cat yokai says, “Yeah, I saw the footage. Very impressive.” 

Mikey frowns and stops turning his seat back and forth. “Donnie—my brother wiped all the footage with us in it.” 

“I’m sure he did. But someone captured a few minutes of your battle on a scrying mirror and it made the rounds down here.”  

Ugh, magic, Mikey thinks with derision for the very first time in his life.

He makes a mental note to ask Draxum about how they can get rid of that footage, too. 

If Draxum doesn’t know, Big Mama will. Leo is her favorite. 

“Did I see Leonardo come in with you?” the yokai is saying, leaning in a little. “A few of my buddies and I, we were wondering if we could interest him in a proposal.”

A suspicious little animal in the back of Mikey’s brain sits up straight and starts paying attention. It’s weird that the guy guessed at Mikey’s name but knows Leo’s. It’s weird that he’s been paying attention to their comings and goings from the one place in the Hidden Cities they frequent regularly. And it’s weird that he has a proposal for a teenager.

On the other side of the bar, Usagi’s eyes are dark and watchful. He and Leo can talk shop about kenjutsu for hours at a time, and in this second Mikey doesn’t have trouble imagining Usagi with a sword in his hand. 

“Why?” Mikey says. 

“Those portals—I’ve never seen anything like it,” the cat says. “He could do so much with that ability. I’m sure he’s got people falling over themselves left and right to offer him work, but my employer could probably double any standing offers.” 

He still sounds surface-level friendly and admiring, but there’s a rot beneath it all, sickly-sweet. A greed. Mikey abruptly wants this guy at least one ocean and a language barrier away from himself and his big brother. 

Yeah, Leo’s portals are second-to-none. It’s incredible, the way he can think in three different places at once and account for every single sibling on the field like he’s playing 5D chess while everyone else is playing checkers. He makes it look easy because he’s Leo, and that’s what he does—he makes impossible stuff look like a breeze. Give his ninpo to a clown like this cat and they wouldn’t be able to accomplish a tenth of what Leo has in two years. Even if they had a hundred years. 

And Mikey can feel himself falling into that trap that Raphael so often falls into—that Donatello is guilty of tripping into now and then—the overprotective one. In the same second he thinks about how capable and cool Leo is, he’s thinking about how he would do anything to keep creeps like this away from him. He’s thinking about how Leo deserves to be around people who like him and appreciate him for him, and not for what he can do for them. 

“He’s sixteen,” Mikey says coldly. To him, sixteen feels very grown-up, but he makes sure to say it the way everyone else in his family constantly says it. “If he wanted a job, he’d work here.” 

“Oh, yes!” Usagi blurts. Then, “Uh, I mean, we’re hiring.” 

“A guy who can portal like that, taking pizza orders? Please,” the yokai says with an amiable grin, like they’re all in on the joke together. “Seriously, can I give you my card? Let him think about it. He could, uh—do some real good. For the community, you know? The Krang left a mark everywhere, even here. If he wanted to give back, there are lots of opportunities.” 

He takes a monochrome business card out of his wallet and slides it across the bar. Mikey doesn’t even look at it. He can feel himself getting really, properly angry. 

Leo’s too clever to get played, but he’s so guilt-motivated. He’s got that huge shadow hanging over him that convinces him so easily that he has all this stuff he has to make up for. He has all this love he has to earn. If this creep framed his job opportunity to Leo as a way to give back, to help people in the wake of an invasion he entirely blames himself for, then Leo would be lured right in. It wouldn’t even be hard. 

Michelangelo is so. Sick. Of this guy. 

“Can I just save you the time?” he says, smiling super brightly. “He’s not interested.”

The yokai’s smile fades a little, expression distinctly less friendly, but just for a second. He looks at something above Mikey’s head, and the smile stretches back out again. 

“I’ll wait to hear that from him,” the guy says, nodding to indicate something behind Mikey. 

Looking over his shoulder, Mikey sees Leo and Hueso chatting as they emerge from the office. Leo is waving his hand while he tells whatever story he’s telling, bright and animated, a far cry from that frightened boy they pulled out of the Prison Dimension. He feels safe here and he doesn’t have to put on a performance for anybody here and it shows. It’s why Raph let him go earlier without much of an argument. 

Mikey isn’t about to let anybody ruin it for him. 

Hueso wouldn’t exactly thank him for starting a brawl in his restaurant during the late lunch rush—and Mikey’s done a really good job of not getting banned this month! 

So sabotage it is. 

He’s the youngest of five—six, now, with the addition of Junior to their ranks—and when it comes to big, wounded eyes and crocodile tears to shake dad off his trail and throw another sibling under the bus, nobody does it better than him. 

Moving fast, Mikey pitches himself sideways off his seat. The stool clatters over noisily and Leo looks up in time to see Mikey hit the floor. Picture-perfect. 

“Ow!” he cries out, only half-faked. He did kind of land on one of his wrists a little too hard. 

“What the hell,” the yokai says dumbly. 

Leonardo is beside Mikey so fast, Mikey’s not one-hundred percent convinced he didn’t teleport himself there. He crouches, broken knee and all, and says, “Gravity two-hundred and eight, Angie zero.”

“No fair,” Mikey protests, sitting up. “It was two-hundred and two yesterday.” 

“Well, this wipe-out was embarrassing enough it’s worth multiple points.” 

Despite his teasing, Leo is entirely focused as he tests Mikey’s wrist for pain. When that doesn’t cause more than a wince, he pulls at the velcro straps until it’s loose enough to slide off. Mikey patiently endures Doctor Leon’s careful assessment of his arm, and buckles the brace back on when he’s allowed to. 

“What the heck happened?” Leo only asks when Mikey is helping him to his feet. 

“That guy pushed me down,” Mikey said immediately, head lowered enough that he has to look up more than usual to meet Leo’s eyes. 

“What?” the yokai snaps. “I didn’t push you down!”

“Sure, I just decided to fall down for no reason,” Mikey shoots back sarcastically. 

“That’s exactly what you did!” 

Leo glances at Usagi, the only eye-witness. Usagi says, to the cat yokai, “I saw the whole thing, man. You’re really gonna sit there and lie?”

Oh, we’re keeping you, Mikey thinks gleefully, almost forgetting to ham up his hurt expression. 

The cat yokai is definitely pissed off, but Leo stands up tall and steps in front of Mikey, his body language daring the guy to say one unkind word about his little brother. Hueso takes over before anything unfortunate can happen, encouraging the yokai to get his food to go and also to consider never coming back to this establishment since he thinks it’s acceptable behavior to bully a child, et cetera. All in a day’s work. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Mikey sees Usagi sweep the business card off the bar and probably into the trash somewhere behind it. 

They hang out at the bar for the rest of the afternoon. Usagi isn’t on the floor today, restocking and cleaning and running food instead, so he gets away with chatting and sneaking them free cranberries-on-the-rocks up until they leave. Leo finds out about the leftover lasagna situation and convinces the rabbit to come over for dinner, including a calzone for him in their take-home order to sweeten the deal.

“Uh,” Usagi says, “sure. Okay. That’d be—yeah.”

“Nice,” Leo says. He sounds way cooler about it than Mikey knows for a fact that he is on the inside. But that’s Leo to a tee—make it look easy. Don’t let anybody in on the big secret that you struggle, too. You have to unlock like fourteen friendship tiers before you get on the other side of all that. 

They portal most of the way to their favorite manhole back home, walking the final city block for a few extra minutes under the warm red evening sky. 

“So what happened with Puss in Boots back there?” Leo says apropos of nothing, when Mikey’s dramatic rendition of his capture of the Feebas and ultimate one-hundred percent completion of Brilliant Diamond has winded down. 

Mikey looks at him sidelong, but Leo is still looking ahead. He does kind of need to pay attention, the city sidewalks aren’t always clear, but that usually doesn’t stop him from looking at his brothers while they talk, to his brothers’ eternal exasperation. 

“I told you, he pushed me.”

“Uh-huh. And what actually happened?”

Ughhhhhh, Mikey has only fooled Leo like three times in his entire life, why did he automatically assume this would be success story number four? 

“That guy was weird,” Mikey mutters. He watches the ground while they walk, his untied shoelace flapping around with every step. “He knew about your portals and wanted stuff from you. He was super shady, Lee! He was like if Kingpin from the Spider-Man comics and Gaston from Beauty and the Beast had a baby. And were cats.”

Leo snorts, and Mikey jerks around so fast he’s not able to hide his smile in time. 

Aha! Mikey thinks, doing cartwheels in his mind. He laughed, I win!

“I’m not gonna let anybody walk all over you,” Mikey says, clenching one fist in front of him. “I know that you don’t need anybody looking out for you—believe me, I know.” They share a commiserating look, two little brothers against the world. Leo looks distinctly amused, like everything Mikey does is worth watching and bragging about later. “But I just love you so much, Leo. If this was a perfect world, everyone would love you as much as I do. But since that’s impossible, and no one will ever usurp me from my number one spot as your biggest fan, then I’ll settle for everyone at least liking you as much as I do. Which is still a pretty high bar, but it’s doable. If they just put the hours in, if they, you know, worked for it—”

“Oh my god, Miguel, stop,” Leo says, pushing at his shoulder. Mikey sways sideways with the push and comes right back, undeterred. 

“I’m unstoppable!” he hollers, lifting both arms and punching his fists up above his head. 

“Yeah,” Leonardo says, sounding like his old self again—sixteen years old, the whole world in his corner. “You’re the best.”

Mikey thinks he could do anything, he could light up the sky, he could punch a hole in the dimension, he could travel through time—he can definitely protect his brother. He’s the only person in the world who can get away with doing it, after all. That’s a big responsibility. Good thing Mikey is big enough to hold it. 

Daylight is only an afterthought in the sky now, all those rich autumn colors dimming into deep, vivid hues of purple and blue. The tunnel home is just around the corner, and they’ll have to reheat the food when they get there, but they’ll have to reheat Usagi’s anyway. 

When Leo reaches over and strings his arm around Mikey’s shoulders, Mikey adjusts his stride, shuffles his takeout bags to one hand, and puts his arm around Leo right back. 

“Thanks, Mike,” Leo says. “For being on my team. I know I don’t make it easy.”

“Your team is the only place I wanna be,” Mikey announces, when he’s sure his voice won’t wobble and give the wet sheen in his eyes away. “If you ever try to kick me out I will make your life a living hell. It seriously would not be worth it for you. Don’t tell Raph I said hell.”

Leo throws back his head and laughs for real. His crutch skids on a dead leaf and since they’re attached to each other they both stumble wildly and almost drop the calzones and get dirty looks from other Manhattanites. It’s the kind of moment that becomes the kind of memory that settles deep in the core of a person, never to be forgotten. 

And Mikey sees it—spring. The sun is finally coming out. Someday really soon, he thinks, those shadows that cling to Leo will have to find someone else to haunt. 

Until then, he can be sunshine enough for them both.