#these were so fuuunnnnn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iwaasfairy · 3 years ago

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┌─ “ ! „ AMBUSH TACTICS

tw. non/dubcon, stepcest, restraints/gags, praise, jealousy, threats of exhibitionism, age difference, arranged marriage, voyeurism, some manipulation wordcount. 7.8k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by the amazing @tink2kagome ♡ thank you thank youuuu a million for commissioning me!!! i said it but i just loved writing my guys again so much, it was so fuuunnnnn and i'm so happy you asked for this plot!! i really hope you like the story and that you love it! ♡♡♡ and ty so much lydz for beta-ing!

iwaizumi x fem!reader x oikawa

It’s a rainy day in August when your old house is pulled down. First the roof, slumped and tiles slid off, or broken, littered in your yard as the crane hooks into the back of it and yanks half of it to the side with the cloud of dust and wood splinters. It doesn’t fly very far because of the rain, instead making a gross, dirty looking sludge at the doorstep. Next are the walls, who pull apart rather easily for a house that stood upright for about 50 years before this. Ripped from the foundation and topped atop the daisies you played in when you were smaller. It doesn’t exactly paint a pretty picture.

But when you look up at your father for support, grabbing his arm with a slow, wobbly lip; he smiles down at you. Brushes a hand along your cheek and runs a comforting hand along your hair. The rain drums down hard around you both, as you look to your other side. To the soft face of the woman who put your father back together with gentle hands. You suppose you like her, and the way she seems to be crafted with finer lines than anything else around you. Flowery and spring like, she seems to stand out against the dim, gray sky and the noise of destruction surrounding you. She glances from her own umbrella to watch you— and flutters from under her own cover to come sit crouched down before you, looking from your father to you with a kind smile.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’ll be okay.” Your -mom now, you suppose- gently runs her thumbs under your eyes and then finds a tissue to press to your nose, giving you the same soft treatment as your father did. “It’s only going to feel strange for a while, but you’ll love your new room! And you’ll love the new garden.” When she nods, you find yourself nodding back, putting on a brave face as you squeeze your dad’s hand a little tighter. As the old house is ripped from its foundations entirely and leaves behind a crumpled mess of building materials that will be cleared out sooner rather than later, you will yourself to agree.

The loud noises of the machine are silenced a bit by the ruckus the hard droplets are making on the taut fabric above your head; as both your parents do their very best to let your child’s tantrum pass by with a good ending. Then your step-mother stands up to let your father wrap his arm around her waist, both of them keeping you close. The dry circle under your feet is crowded, and though the air is chilly, you’re still warm. You look aside to follow the second dry circle up to feet, long legs, a straight posture and all the way to the face of your new brother; whose normally harsh brows are set slightly softer as he takes in the way your eyes and cheeks are a ruddy, shiny mess.

Hajime even does his very best to paint on an encouraging, if barely visible, smile for you, and barely raises his arm to offer you a little wave, like most older siblings placate a fussy child. But for some reason, he doesn’t look nearly as fed up with you as you’ve learned he looks with most things. It’s a sure attempt at being kind to his new kid sister, if nothing else. And you let the visual of that burn into the back of your head, before hiding your face into your father’s pant leg— all the novelties are a bit too much to process in the stickiness of a drowsy summer day.

Your room is the one across Hajime’s room, all the way around the corner at the end of the hall. As it happens, you happen to have similar hours of sleeping and waking— which often leads you to stumble into each other upon first opening your eyes. When you were still little, you’d skitter out of reach before he could so much as apologize, unused to him and the situation. Unused to sharing a house with anyone but your father. And Hajime would creep into the kitchen with the kind of slowness of someone trying not to spook a scared animal— careful to open the cupboards, careful to offer you breakfast.

He couldn’t do much, wasn’t actually that much older than you anyway. But even a couple years seemed like a lifetime of difference when you were small, and teenage Hajime, with all his stubborn but well-meaning attitude, sure as hell could’ve convinced you. Oikawa Tooru on the other hand, not so much. He was better with words than your brother was, but never seemed to use them to bring out anything constructive. You’d find him sprawled out over your couch on the days where their practice ran long, chowing down your mom’s freshly baked goods before anyone else. And you’d glare and stomp your feet from the corner of the room, but never get close enough to say much back.

Oikawa Tooru, for all you knew about it, couldn’t care less what you thought about him in the first place, and you were perfectly fine keeping it that way. It’s one of those evenings when you’re about ready to go to bed that you search for Hajime, and find him walking back from the garden with a familiar red-green-white ball in his practiced hands. That, and then a long whine from your living room. “Iwa-chan~” The lithe, melodic voice of your brother’s best friend fills the hall and you can’t help the pout that slips on.

“Ugh,” Hajime lets out, similarly disgruntled as you are, “I gotta go put the bikes in the garage first.” It’s not really said to you, but you feel the responsibility anyway, and puff your chest out a bit while balling your hands to fists.

“I can go see what he needs,” you’re saying before Hajime nii can ask, and it brings a slight smile to his pretty features, that he tries and miserably fails to school back into neutrality.

The grin that creeps onto his lips under his chuckled breath is automatic. “You do that. And if he gives you a hard time, you just tell him that your big brother will rip him to shreds.” The brunet gives you a little squeeze of encouragement, before walking past you to slip out the screen door and head to the driveway. Your steps are loud when you parade into your own living room and put your hands to your hips. Oikawa’s laying on the couch, long legs peeking over the one end as he’s propped up on one elbow, other hand in the cookie jar without so much as asking.

You’ve always known your mom to have a soft spot for the guy, inviting him in any time of the day for ‘putting up with Hajime’— but you once again have to argue it’s the other way around as he obnoxiously stuffs one of the perfectly-made, crumbling treats into his maw and barely stops chewing to acknowledge you. “‘Sup? You want one?” the honeyed brunet asks, voice easy and fluid as he picks up another and holds it out to you with a raised brow. Your pout grows more pronounced. You made those together with your mom, for your dad and Hajime only. Niichan’s only allowed to have certain amounts of sugar to go with his volleyball career— and here he is eating them all up before you’ve even had the chance to boast to your brother.

You hate him. You cross your arms over your chest as you keep glaring, and Oikawa doesn’t miss a beat when he notices you won’t respond. “Y’know —hm, these are good— I know you’re not technically blood related, but you sure act like your big brother. Same glare when I’m talking. Anyone ever -hm- tell y’that?” He doesn’t stop chewing as he sticks his long fingers into your flower-decorated container again and pulls out one of the almond cookies. You know your expression must sour even further, because finally Oikawa takes the hint and pushes himself up a little on the couch. “What?”

“You’re getting crumbs all over our house,” you settle on saying, frustrated even more at the fact he really isn’t. He’s put down a napkin, with a perfectly neat collection of cookie crumbs in the middle; you can’t help but say it despite that.

“Am not.”

“Are too,” you snap back, and grab your pajama top to fist your hands into the bottom of it.

Oikawa folds one of his long legs to stretch it to his chest, then lays it back over the end of the couch. “You’re mad.” He clicks his tongue, before finally shifting his attention from you to his phone. But even as he picks it up and starts scrolling something or the other, his voice is a soft melody that irks you. “You’re always so mad at me for no reason, imouto.”

“I’m not your imouto.”

“You’re Iwa-chan’s imouto.” He puts the face of his phone down on his chest to give you a dramatic stare, then pulls up his lip. “So it’s basically the same thing. I’ve known you since you were as big as my little toe.” Then he hides his gaze back in his phone to scroll some more, with that annoying ‘pat, pat, pat’ sound that his finger landing on the screen makes. “It’s a shame, because I really like you.” He does that annoying thing where he gives you a guilt-trippy sort of pout that you give little kids when you’re trying to get your way— and you sure are old enough to know you don’t want to even think about letting up now. “I always wanted a little sister. I only have a little nephew though.”

“If you’d have a little sister you’d probably scare her away because you’re so weird,” you end up biting back, walking over to grab the container from his lap and closing it nice and tight as he stares at you with a blank sort of expression. “Made these for my dad and niichan, not you.” If he wants to ask, he keeps quiet, going back to tapping on his phone like it’s something important, and you can’t help but think he’s most likely just annoying Hajime nii’s other friends or the team. You take a seat on the coffee table, guarding the cookies from him, and take a minute to watch the side of his face as he fiddles with the device, like you’re long forgotten.

Hajime nii told you before that Oikawa’s the star setter of the team, a trusted center and main captain. You’ve seen them play here and there, and have heard the whispers that go around. And as much as you’re unwilling to admit it out loud, there’s something -pretty- in his features. How the skin of his cheeks is a little rosy and rounder, how his long lashes angle out to make his eyes look so bright and defined and irises glittering gold under the right light, the set of his lips and jaw making him look always at ease. Even the way his brown hair is a little bouncier and has cute tufts that stick out like little sprouts growing from fresh soil.

You guess older girls than you would know better than you do when they whisper about how cute he is.

You guess your mom is right when she talks about how kind Oikawa Tooru looks, and your father sends you two a little glance with a certain glimmer in his eyes. But you sure as hell won’t admit it to him— and definitely not when niichan’s around.

Eventually your eyes fall to where his white jacket covers his throat, or not anymore, to the blood-speckled purple blotch that sits right on the side of his neck. You frown, and lift your top lip in mock disgust, then you reach a finger out to jab it a little accusatory into the discolored skin. “What’s that?”

“Aw,” Tooru jerks, dropping his phone to the side to scamper away from your touch. Then he looks at you, and lays his cheek to his shoulder to hide the touched area even further, suddenly looking a bit flustered. You’ve never seen him look that way before, so it even surprises you enough to back off for a moment, as Oikawa eyes you down. “Why are you all up in my face all of a sudden? Don’t you know that’s rude?”

You huff, and go to sit cross legged in protest. “I just asked what the hell you did to get hurt on your neck.”

Oikawa is slow to straighten up, and pulls his jacket collar up higher as he rolls his shoulder, then scratches his ear, then looks away entirely. He looks embarrassed, you note with some shock to your status quo. This isn’t how it usually goes. Oikawa, mister better-than-you, doesn’t hesitate or get shy. “It’s a secret. Besides, you don’t need to know because you’re -like, what- ten? ‘S none of your business.” You’re not ten.

“Pff, I already know what it is,” you lie through your teeth, “I’m not stupid.” You toss your hair over your shoulder, and look away too. There’s only so many things that interest Oikawa. One’s volleyball. Another is school. It’s highly unlikely either of those would cause him to throw a fuss. And the last is girls. You’ve only ever seen Hajime react in any similar way when your mom suggests any girl in his vicinity might like him. You take a shot in the dark as you put on a testy grin, and lean in. “It’s because of your girlfriend,” you drag out the word as you watch Oikawa’s cheeks and ears go a little red, his brows angling into a frown.

Hajime chooses that time to come back in, and you look over your shoulder to watch him toss his jacket off onto the back of a chair. “Don’t bully shitty-kawa too much, he’s still sensitive.” He wipes his still-red hands, most likely from practicing, on his pants before ruffling your hair. “The breakup ripped out his poor little heart.” There’s some sympathy on his face, but barely half a second passes before the corners of his lips twitch up, as he looks at his friend and then back at you. Oikawa doesn’t say anything, but goes more red in the face, and you can’t help but stare transfixed as he zips his training jacket up all the way and glares back at your big brother.

“It did not,” he says back in exasperation, before checking a phone notification and this time rolling his eyes.

Hajime crashes down on the other couch, and you grab the box of cookies to take a seat next to him. You’re a little quieter after that, can’t help but watch the infallible Oikawa Tooru actually showing a sign of real emotions. You choose to focus on Hajime instead, and place the remaining box on his lap with a smile. The brunet’s quick to thank you, squeezing your cheek and giving you a soft poke in the side, before sighing. “You should head to bed, or mom and dad will be mad at me.” You try to disagree, but he just grabs your face and angles it towards the kitchen. “Go brush your teeth, go on.”

You don’t like hanging out with them or anything… but you still stomp your feet as you make your way to wash your face as told.

When you come out of your door nowadays though, you’re always expecting to collide with a solid chest at your first step beyond your room. Of course, he doesn’t live here anymore. Moved out when he went to uni, and lived in some far away, hole-in-the-wall flat with two guys who smelled like sweat and weed for most of what you saw from them, for all four years he was getting his degree and leaving you the longing sibling still stuck at home. But you never really grew out of it. When he visits, it’s what you always remember the most.

You’re always expecting to see your big brother first thing when morning comes. Expecting Hajime to wrap an arm around your waist to catch you when you cling to him in full bedhead, no pants fashion; let him guide the both of you down the length of the hall as you take the walk from your rooms to the kitchen as the full minute of extra shut-eye that might get you through the day. And niichan no longer bothers to apologize when he steps on your feet or you both almost trip and fall over anything in your way— him taking the lead, always.

He’s always been more of a morning person, and you sadly can’t resent him for that. His mom chuckles any time he deposits you on the chair by the kitchen island and plops down beside you on his own. “Alright, sunshines, what'd you need?”

“Water.”

“Coffee,” you whine, as your dad enters the room and presses a quick kiss to the top of your head.

The morning’s barely started, or your intuition is on high alert when Hajime clears his voice and casts the man a cursory glance. “Did you guys get to talk to her about what you told me over the weekend?” It’s vague and entirely useless, so it’s instantly suspicious when both parents react with a similarly tight-lipped recollection. Your dad only gives your big brother a little shake of the head, picks up an apple from the fruits on the counter, and walks towards the door.

“Not yet. I figure this is the type of conversation the girls will have on their own time, Haji. And I don’t want to be in the firing line when she freaks out.” He doesn’t react much when you give him a squeaked ‘dad?!’ and gives you three a blown kiss. “Love you guys, I’m off to work!” It doesn’t take you a second after the door closes to glance incredulously at Hajime nii, then at your mom as she keeps her eyes on the pancakes in the pan.

“Mom?” you try, only to get a quick smile over her shoulder. She has the decency to look a little sheepish at least, placing a stack of pancakes on Hajime’s plate and then on yours too. Meanwhile, the spiky haired brunet to your side barely catches your eyes, before starting to eat. And you glare at the side of his face until he gets a little uncomfortable and turns your chair the other way. You don’t like being talked about behind your back. Not even if it’s in good faith, not even if you trust the three of them with your life.

Your mother doesn’t usually gossip like this, so you can’t help but think… Hajime’s still refusing to look at you, choosing to focus all his attention on a spare blueberry. And your mom seems to notice, because as she places your cup of coffee before you, she gives her son a look that you can only describe as —suspicious. He doesn’t speak though, and glaring doesn’t work. You poke and prod at the food in silence for a few minutes before your mom clears her voice.

“Did you hear that the girl who used to babysit you got married?”

You don’t look up, only shake your head in a slow, stubborn acknowledgement of her words. You really didn’t. Yachi was only a few years your senior, but she’d lived close enough to pop by a lot when Hajime couldn’t watch you. You don’t remember the last time you saw her though, so it’s no wonder you didn’t hear about it.

“I was talking about it with Tooru-chan’s mom.” There’s a little pause there, where both people seem to hold their breath, before she continues. “And how she hopes Tooru gets married soon. You know, she even said Tooru has shown interest in getting married sooner rather than later, but because he’s so busy with his career he doesn’t have a lot of time to date. Said something about having his mom arrange a marriage for him,” there’s a soft chuckle from Hajime to your side, but you can’t see the humor in it. Not when your stomach is sinking a little more with each word. “And well, I suggested-”

“Absolutely not,” you pipe up in a quiet voice, now suddenly renewed in your focus to slice your pancake into the most even slices possible. You don’t want either of them to see how flustered the mere idea of the implication has you, stomach rolling around like it’s flung off it’s imaginary hinges.

“Oh, come on, darling. You’ve always gotten along with Tooru since you were little, and your dad and I know you had a little crush—”

“I did not have a crush on Oikawa Tooru,” you stand up from your seat with a loud, scraping sound, mouth dropping open. “I could only stand him because he was Hajime nii’s friend, and- no offense -but I’m pretty fucking sure the guy would sooner marry his own reflection than consider getting married to his best friend’s little sister.” You can’t help but feel a little prideful when that pulls a snort out of Hajime, who’s now slowly taking sips of his glass of water and pretending not to be involved.

He runs a hand along his neck, and gives his mom a long look. “Told you she probably wouldn’t even think about it.” He doesn’t sound nearly as smug as he could, but you still fight the urge to give him a punch in the arm as you walk past him to go breathe some much needed fresh air.

You can hear him follow a few steps behind while you walk out the back door and drop down into a squat onto the grass to start stress-picking at little blue flowers that pop up among the greenery. Hajime has enough common sense to let you be though, sitting down far enough away not to be a bother, until you choose to turn to him. “And what about you?!” Your voice lilts up so much it ends in a pinched whisper more than the angry tone you start with. “You even so much as entertained the idea of me marrying your best friend? That’s weird—”

“You’re being dramatic,” your niichan says, and picks one of the flowers from your fingers, “Tooru really likes you. And I don’t care about that possessive bullshit, if anything it’s good.” It’s stupid- and your stupid brain is a traitor for even popping the image in your head for a second. But you can’t help but think it’s totally weird that he’s so on board with it. You want to shake him for selling you out, want to — ask him to keep you close and not let go a little longer. You know it’s selfish, but somewhere within you, you had hoped that you and Hajime nii had more time together. Knowing Tooru is of marrying age, means thinking about the prospect of the brunet before you being of marrying age too, and…

You decide to ignore that thought as it comes to you, eyes flicking away to the house the two of you no longer share. “I want you to be with someone who I know has the best intentions at heart,” Hajime’s low voice really goes in one ear and out the other, “and like it or not, Oikawa does have that much.” Then the softer tone in his voice comes, the one you ever really hear him use when he’s with you; he grabs your hand to demand your attention. “And Tooru’s successful. He’s smart, he’s got the funds to provide for you. You don't want to think about that stuff because you’re young, but I think you’ll appreciate it when you’re our age.” It’s all things you know, and you trust Hajime implicitly.

“It doesn’t matter, because Oikawa’s never going to want to marry me. The guy can barely stand me.”

“You’re an idiot,” your brother chastises out of nowhere, pulling your hand to yank you within his reach and tossle you to the ground. You try and fail to wrestle out of his grip when he uses his weight to pin you down like you used to do when you were much, much younger. It was never a fair fight, but nothing compares to the way your big brother has long since traded his leaner muscle for built tissue, and physical fitness to rival any Olympic athlete. “You’re fucking beautiful, y’know that? He’d be lucky.” And though you send Hajime the nastiest glare you can muster when he crosses his arms over his wide chest and stares you down like he’s watching a glacier melt, you can feel honest to god heat rush to your cheeks.

With more than a decade that passed since you first had to deal with the guy, there’s bound to be changes. But it shocks you a little just how obvious it is now you’re looking out for it. Oikawa was always handsome, much to your dismay for many years of your childhood, but it’s different now he’s… a man. Taller, more toned, with a distinct tan from the Argentinian sun and lighter hair, he looks more like a second Adonis than the guy who used to get under your skin— and when his eyes meet yours with much less of that bravado and much more genuine confidence, you’re lost.

You saw the guy last year for Christmas. Your mom made you chaperone Takeru’s 17th birthday party, and Oikawa popped by in full glory. But it felt different.

You unhook your arms from the bar behind you when Oikawa comes over to wrap an arm around your back and presses a kiss to either cheek, before smiling. Full and perfect and— fuck. “Hey, birthday boy,” you manage to say, ignoring the way the absence of his hands starts feeling cold too soon.

“Birthday man now,” he grins with the words, and props one elbow onto the bar to support his head with his hand. Even this way he towers over you, and you can’t quite bear to look at him. “I think the boy-to-man cutoff is 28.” You can’t help but snort, and look up at him. He’s — so much more than he was. Much more everything. You fluster when he’s already looking at you though, pretty eyes scanning your face. You end up searching the room for Hajime to avoid looking awkward, and fiddle with your smirnoff glass. Your big brother’s talking to Tooru’s mother, and laughing, and only catches your eyes for a split second to spy ever so subtly on you both.

You know he is, because you’ve seen your mom give the same kind of looks. Everyone is smitten with the brunet by your side, and for once you can’t even blame them. He’s electric. You find yourself wound up and spun on your axes, without him even having to do a single thing. After a few moments of silence, he bumps your hip with his, sides basically touching. “So how have you been?” Not a second of pause and he smiles wider, “you still hate me?”

“I never hated you.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“You thought about it,” he chuckles, and even harder when you bite your lip to avoid having to speak. He quiets a little then, and leans close enough for you to feel like you’re drowning in his smell. “You look really good. Been thinking it all night, if I’m being honest.” It sets off fireworks in your veins when his lashes frame his eyes darker, entirely focused on you.

“If I didn’t know any better, Oikawa, I’d have to start believing what I heard.”

A smile tugs at one side of his mouth. “Which is?”

“You’re looking to settle.”

You’re flirting back— you know you are because your body’s curving to get closer to his touch, to the hand that lands on the small of your back; you just can’t believe it yourself. But then he brushes some hair away from your face and lets his eyes flick all over your expression, pulls his lip between his teeth. His mouth moves closer to your ear, and you feel like you’re soaring and dying all at once. “Darling, being with you wouldn’t be settling for anything.” Whatever spell he put on his voice is working, and when he pulls back you’re basically mouth to mouth.

“You’re a tease.”

“You like it,” he pops the ‘t’ before dipping down and laying a kiss onto your lips, so soft and sweet you melt in his hands. He’s pulling away before you even get a chance to savor it, and you let out a whine. Something that makes him laugh. “You gotta wait, we’re in public.” Public. You come back to your body, back to the room with all of your relatives— as you start burning with shame. You give him a punch to his pec, that he mocks hisses at, before grinning. “Desert should be out soon. We’ll have some time to sneak off then.”

It’s entirely inappropriate, you kissing your brother’s best friend, let alone -sneaking out of the room- and yet; you’re nodding at him, resolutely. Your stomach flips, and you have to keep yourself from rubbing your thighs together. And Oikawa basically glows when he notices, because he can’t resist sneaking two hands behind your back to grab your ass and pull you up against his chest, nosing at your jaw. “You’re- so fucking cute.”

You fight to get back to the floor because of where you are and because your dress is riding up, wobble onto your heels with a little pant, but still your heart’s pounding. Fuck, you must be losing it. You want that. You want that? Your skin tingles when he winks and walks away, picking up one of the champagne flutes from the bar to look back at you, and let his tongue peek out the side of his mouth. And you’re trying to catch your breath when you find Hajime between the people, green eyes beaming into you from across the room. You can’t read his expression but whatever he’s feeling, he’s no less obvious when he pulls a finger under his collar like it’s too tight, and runs his eyes down your body just once. In judgment, you can only assume.

So you’re not sure why his face is so pink, ears and cheeks both.

You should be embarrassed at how loud and desperate you’re being clinging to Tooru’s neck, letting him suck marks into the side of your neck for people to gawk at. He’s sweaty, and so hot, and so are you— pressed between his chest and the wall with your legs hooked over his arms. He pants against your collarbones once, twice, and breathes your name so lovingly into your skin. You don’t know what happened, you’re lost. One second you were laughing as you snuck out the room with Tooru giggling into your shoulder, and now you’re here, biting your lip so hard you pull blood.

“Oh, holy— fuck, Tooru. Tooru, Tooru,” you mewl, and he nods before taking a nipple into his mouth. You should think before you act. But you can’t, throwing your head back and moaning out his name as his cock slides in and out of you with a mind-numbing, rhythmic motion that only drives your brain further from the present.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he promises, and fucks like he’s never going to stop. Never going to let you walk on your own legs again, so solid as he drives your walls open and fucks you onto him. You’re bounced like it’s easy, and he straightens up to kiss you hard. “Feels good, huh? This tight, little pussy feels so fucking good too. So warm ‘n wet, all for me, yeah?” He hikes you a little higher, then kisses along your throat as you run your fingers through his hair and tug. He moans, but continues without pause, like fucking you was what he was meant to do all along.

“All mine, good fucking girl. So needy.” It’s kinda scary how fucking good his fat cock feels sliding in and out your clenching cunt. How embarrassingly messy you’ve gotten for him. “Or are you thinking of — someone else, ‘s that why?” You clench around him before shaking your head side to side, and swallow down a moan when he fucks right into that spot that makes you gush. He doesn’t pause to let you think about anything, pulling your head back to suck more marks into your neck, whimpering against his solid body and shoulders; but if you had thought about it for longer, maybe you could’ve figured something out.

Your wedding is more lowkey than you expected Oikawa Tooru to agree with, though you’re more than glad about it. You also realize that day that you should stop calling him by his full name, considering you’re an Oikawa too, now. The entire room is filled with only some family and friends, his old highschool friends and some of his newer team mates; your three closest uni classmates also in attendance. And your rock in the very front, Hajime nii smiling so full and wide it pulls his eyes into little moons. It’s entirely intoxicating, and so is Tooru when he shines so bright the sun in the sky can’t match.

When the night comes to a close, slowly, long hours later— Tooru carries you over the step of the door with all the excess dramatics you did expect from him. Only, you’re happy right now, laughing against his neck at every breathed well wish, every praise, and each time he tells you how fucking pretty his new wife is. You’d be lying if you didn't admit to it feeling damn good. When he swears you’re glowing, you’re inclined to believe it. He closes the door behind you two, and loosens the pretty, silk tie from around his neck as he watches you slowly shuffle back a bit towards the bed. His lips pull into a smile, before he hums, “I’ll come join you in a second, cutie.”

You kick your shoes off, and hum, and choose to start taking off your very expensive dress on your own. You know Tooru wouldn’t care about ripping it open, but you sure do. His steps go around the room, before he disappears into the bathroom, you think. You could use a freshen up too, honestly. The long, laced up back of your dress is barely undone before a soft knock comes from the door, and you look up, bristling at the sound. But Tooru’s nowhere to be seen —did he go out into the hall?— you keep the front of your dress to your chest with one hand while slowly sliding open the lock with the other.

“Why’d you—” You take a step back automatically, and look up with wide eyes. Hajime’s a little flushed when he steps through the door and pushes it closed, like he’s been running. You fluster under the flicking of his green eyes all over you, and down you. “Niichan, what are you doing here? Did you need something?” Hajime’s always been the quieter type. When he wasn’t around Oikawa to drive him to his extremes, he’d only ever speak when it was important. When his words would be an addition to the conversation, it made it feel like it was always important to listen.

But as he reaches out and brushes his fingers along your cheek and under your jaw- letting the silence hang as goosebumps build on your skin, you really wish he’d just talk. “Hajime nii, I’m kinda- in the middle of something.” You motion your eyes down to show your state of undress, barely kept up when he crowd you a little more, and you squeak. “Niichan, you have to leave. It’s- my wedding night.”

“And I’ll let you enjoy it,” Hajime says, though his eyes shine with a determination that doesn’t let you believe it for a second. But his hand doesn’t move when it drops to your shoulder, thumb brushing along the soft of your throat; making your heartbeat race wildly against him. The bathroom door clicks open to show you your husband without a shirt, who only stares for a split second before Hajime glares at him. “You had sex with my sister at your birthday party,” the darker brunet hisses, and Tooru smiles.

“It was my birthday, Iwa-chan, I got excited.”

You’re stuck glancing between the two of them with your hands a little shaky, a mix of the nerves of the day and of this situation collecting. Did Hajime really come in here to chastise you about your personal matters? You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks, before you’re pushing his hand off your shoulder and trying to lead him back out the way he came. “Hajime nii, if that’s how you’re going to be, you need to leave—”

He grabs your one wrist and then your other, and clicks his tongue when you struggle against him. “Shh, calm down,” he looks down at you then, holding your arms wide enough apart for him to fit right up against you, muscular body keeping you right in place. Faces hovering with only a few inches between. If you were hot before, you’re absolutely burning when you feel your dress slowly start to slip down by gravity, and bucking against Hajime only makes it worse. But he’s too busy looking at you to notice, or care. “I’m not gonna cause trouble.”

You feel two large hands land on your shoulders then, Oikawa coming up behind you to lean down closer towards you, and make the jitters even worse. What is happening? “Iwa-chan’s just a little jealous and upset that I fucked you when I did.” His hand wraps around your neck and squeezes a little, only to start stripping you of your dress with slow, deft hands. “He wanted to go first, and I messed that up for him. Isn’t that right, Iwa-chan?”

“You’re an ass.”

Whatever thoughts were building in your head fall completely silent when you stare up at Hajime in complete and utter confusion. But he doesn’t make any attempt to deny it, or tell Tooru how wrong he is, how wrong any of this is— that he doesn’t see you like that, you’re his little sister. Tears start welling up in your wide eyes before you can even open your mouth to make good on the many accusations that roam through your skull, and all that you can manage is a soft, “Haji?”

“Aw, you’re breaking the poor girl’s heart, Iwa. Come on, out with the confession. She’s clearly waiting to hear it.” The happy-go-lucky, lithe voice of your fresh, new husband does absolutely nothing to soothe your nerves, instead spiking them even higher. And you want to understand, you do, but nothing makes sense anymore. Like you’ve been dropped into a free fall with no end. As your big brother clears his throat, Oikawa’s quick to kiss along the column of your neck, letting his hands slowly trail down your sides to push the white fabric down more and more.

Hajime swallows, eyes avoidant. “Listen, I know,” he stops to let his eyes drop down to your new exposed bra, to Tooru’s hands going even lower than that, and locks his jaw with a glare, “stop that, I can’t concentrate.” The little chuckle Tooru lets out against your shoulder washes over you. And your brother takes a long look at you, all of you, before leaning down to - kiss you. Hajime kisses you needy and long, pushing past your lips with his tongue like it’s normal. Like it’s okay. You start struggling against him again, both of them, but go nowhere. When he pulls back there’s an unfair sort of softness mixed in with lust, forced down your throat.

“I don’t look at you as just a sister,” Hajime whispers, “not anymore. I want to be with you- and- and I knew that wouldn’t happen- couldn’t.” He’s panting like you somehow bewitched him, green eyes searching yours for any sign of agreement. “And I know you feel it too.” You want to fight, and scream at him to get the hell out, but— you love him too much to do that. Instead you’re forced to hang off his every word while Tooru keeps himself busy by getting your one leg out from the dress before the other. “And when Oikawa suggested he marry you, I…”

There’s a pounding, white noise in your head that only grows louder when he kisses you again, and claims your lips with a hungry groan. “I want you so fucking bad, so fucking bad.” You can’t do anything but shake your head side to side, and try to pull away from him.

“You’re insane. Both of you!” Though they’ve rendered you in your underwear by now, and you can tell what’s most likely going to go down— you still start struggling as hard as you can against the two of them, and push at Hajime’s hands until he has to wrap his arm around your torso instead. “Let me go! Let me go, I want out of here. Fucking, let me go!” Your voice breaks, and Hajime clings harder to you, keeping your feet from the floor as he walks you two to the bed. You try to kick and buck, but it doesn’t move him.

“If you’re going to keep shouting I’ll stuff something in your mouth to shut you up,” he says as he presses you down on the plush covers, keeping you in place by pinning you under his wait. “You want that?”

“Get off of me, you’re crazy! You’re my brother! My brother!” Then you glance at your husband, and sneer at him too. “How can you go along with this?! You two are— you’re the w-worst, god— niichan, get off of me! Off! Now!”

“I love how fucking fiesty you are,” Oikawa chuckles from the end of the bed, wrapping those long fingers around your ankle to pull. “But we should probably shut her up, Iwa-chan. Can’t have security burst in here.”

“I know,” Hajime sighs, and gives you another look, and then places his palm over your mouth before you can start begging. Your tears well up harder, and run down your temples. ‘Wait, no,’ you’re mumbling against his palm, but it’s too late. As soon as he takes his hand off a piece of fabric is shoved in, and his tie used as a makeshift gag. “It’s going to be okay, just calm down. We’ll take it out when you’re calm,” your brother promises, and gives you a soft kiss to your forehead that you want to hate so much. But you can’t, it still has that same soft feeling as before.

Your pretty brunet husband is quick to secure your ankles to the railing of the bed, a bit too tight to be comfortable. But he smiles, and comes to sit on the bed next to you to wipe the tears from your eyes too. “As for me, I really do like you. A lot. So you don’t have to feel too betrayed. I’m just helping out a friend, you get it. Pay it forward- kind of thing?”

Hajime glances at your feet, before placing a hand on your stomach to rub comforting circles into your skin, then raises a brow. “Her panties?” Tooru is a bit too smug when prodding under the fabric with those long fingers of his, and lets the elastic snap back against your skin with a little smile.

“We can take easy care of that.” He gives you a stare that makes your blood feel hot, picking at the little bow and pulling the lacy fabric. “My little wife. I love that title for you, cutie.”

“Don’t push it,” Hajime grunts, before Tooru pulls so hard the fabric gives and tears apart at the sides, leaving you bare. And both men get clearly more pent up when Tooru runs a finger down your slicking cunt, up and down to drive you crazy. “Me first,” Hajime’s quick to say, and Tooru only laughs at the possessiveness your brother shows at the mere thought. You’re still sniffling around the gag though, spit soaking the fabric as you watch how they exchange places and Oikawa makes quick work of your lacy bra too.

Your brother is transfixed, and you both want to glare at him and look away as he spits on his fingers and rubs two fingers up and down your glistening bottom lips, dipping into your hole only to pull back. “Fuck, you’re wet. You’re really wet,” he chants, first to himself, then looking up at you and the way you’re burning through your own skin from embarrassment. “Knew you wanted it too, I just— you could’ve just asked. We wouldn’t even need shitty-kawa to be here.”

“Don’t be rude,” Oikawa breathes back, and dips his face to your neck and hands to your tits to knead them, play with your nipples, and suck them into his mouth to be abused by his tongue. “Get to it already, before you cum in your pants.” The insult is barely given any notice when you moan around your gag, Tooru’s quick fingers rubbing and pulling at your pebbled nubs just right. Hajime moans lowly, and then grabs himself through his pants. Everything after that happens quickly. His shirt and pants go, and Tooru’s tuxedo is shed to the ground without a second thought, all the while keeping your body busy with greedy touches.

It feels so good, that by the time Hajime’s pulling out his cock and shoving his boxers down his thick thighs, you’re squirming in anticipation, cunt dripping down onto the perfect, white sheets below. Your brother’s cock is very hard, and so is your husband as he shoves his hand inside his own and lets out a long moan when grabbing himself. “Oh, fuck, you’re so cute when you glare at me like that. Makes me want to fuck that attitude out of you,” he gets closer to your face, and pushes the fabric down to push his hard, flushed cock and slap it against your lips. “If I take this out you’ll be good for us, won’t you?”

Hajime’s fisting his cock and wrapping a ring of fingers around the head to fuck in and out of for a few, before throwing his head back. “No, I can’t wait. Fuck her face later. You’ve got all the time.”

The soft, melodic chuckle Tooru lets out fills the room as he watches Hajime line up with your clenching, needy pussy to hum. “Well, so do you. You’re welcome, by the way.” Though the darker brunet makes a face, he grips your hips tighter, and pushes in without thinking twice. The feeling of him spreading you open is too much, you’re tearing up again. You mumble his name around the gag, and choke a little as he pushes in so much deeper than you were expecting. But it feels good. So good.

Tooru pulls out the gag to instead replace it with his fingers, and beams down at you. “Our little wife, look at you. Open wide, baby.”

#iwa x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #iwa smt #oikawa smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #tw.noncon #tw.stepcest #tw.dark content #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.iwaizumi #💫ch.oikawa

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sootygoggles · 4 years ago

Text

Parent!Paranoia Sanders Sides AU!

No explanation, but I'll probably give the backstory later. For now: memes of Paranoia being an A-class parent and a chaos gremlin. (okay it started as memes but then just ended up as fleshing the AU out)

Paranoia, worried abt his kids: I'm uhhhh gonna go to my room see ya later light sides

Paranoia, sneaking back into the subconscious to check on his now teenaged children: I'm gonna leave duke a r a t that I found and thought looked cool

Duke, waking up the next morning and yelling for 'Nesty bc "HOLY CRAP NESTY LOOK AT THIS RAT ISN'T SHE ADORABLE I WANNA HANG HER ON THE WALL": !!!!!!!!!!

Paranoia gets a habit of sitting on the fridge because his children were wild as kids and sometimes duke comin at you with a knife warrants jumping onto counters

Nesty, who doesnt get paid to deal with duke: I'm raiding dads liquor cabinet it's my due for putting up with this

Paranoia, physically manifesting: put the key to the liquor cabinet D O W N, Honesty

The lights are confused as to why he disappears at random times of the day and night and he just "leave me TF alone before I leave you a goshdarn diddly P R E S E N T while youre sleeping I'm tired"

patton: my child! my dark strange son!!

paranoia, who has children: ,,,,yea ok

Patton ticks him off so he leaves a big halloween decor spider on his bed and nobody sleeps for weeks after that bc pattons too scared to touch it and paranoia maybeperhaps glued it onto his cover

He's like one of those people you know might mean well but ooooooo boy theyre pushin buttons

Paranoia, whos fav animal/insect is spiders and whose children have tarantulas and snakes on the regular: hes not even realistic!! You need to learn to get along with mr sparkles patton!! look at him. he's fluffy!

He has googly eyes and glitter on him at all times of course hes named mr sparkles

paranoia gets to be a little petty. as a treat

Paranoia just carries bags of glitter around and whenever mr sparkles gets duller he takes mr sparkles to the kitchen counter and he dumps glitter on him

Logan and patton are tired of cleaning up bc paranoias just petty enough to make their counters eternally sparkly

"why is there glitter all over the kitchen?"

paranoia, holding mr sparkles: :)

Paranoia, after AA: I hate purple but they dont know that now do they

Paranoia is actually orange the last side is purple lol

Chaos Gremlin dark sides and nobody is surprised bc paranoia raised them

paranoia, going back to see his teen children after acting like a teen all day: what is up, fellow kids

honesty: i am going to lose it

Wrath, coming to yell at them to keep it down: why are you purple I'm purple

Paranoia, cackling bc finally I can get out of this horrible color: *snaps fingers * I'M PARANOIA MOTHERTRUCKERS HAVE FUUUNNNNN I'M GONNA BE MAKING YOUR LIVES LIVING HELL FROM THIS POINT FORWARDS

duke and nesty, pumped for halloween bc u l t i m a t e s p o o k: :D

paranoia, coming out in a traffic cone costume with a shit eating grin on his face: :D

Paranoia, decorating for halloween bc "oh I'm sorry it's just the *sniffles * homesickness and we a l w a y s decorated for halloween" knowing full well all of his decorations are spider and witch themed bc they all like the salem witch trials

He leaves ONE fake snake in romans cereal and the lights just. Lose it. Hes kicked back into the subconscious to be chaotic with his kids, no new side, just the hours upon hours of film hes gotten from the bugs hed placed around the unconscious and a plan for the next several movie nights

He gets back and honesty is w h e e z i n g bc he was watching through the cracks and they make a fail compilation of the light sides

It takes like two months for the lights to just go insane with him around not due to yknow paranoia but bc hes such a gremlin

Patton asks if he was raised by wolves and he shoves mr sparkles at patton saying "take the issue of how I was raised up with my father, a-hole!!"

He doesnt actually curse he just yells "A-HOLE" so loud his kids can hear

They dont find out he's a dad until hes summoned and hes making cookies or smt with the kids and hes in a bright orange stereotypical witch outfit,,, corset and all and an apron that says "worlds most chaotic dad" on the front

And hes talking to one of the kids like "duke you can only put dish soap in your batch nesty cant digest it like you can"

Patton has an apron that says worlds least chaotic 'dad' courtesy of paranoia he made it himself(read: he stole pattons good apron and scribbled over it in sharpie)

Paranoia is always close to cackling when around the lights bc theyre newbs to any chaos

Roman and remus are twins but roman is the kind of kid to promptly forget abt anyone and logan n patton knew remus less than a day before he "disappeared" aka ran to the subconscious to explore and theyve just kinda blocked him out

Logans fine with it and actually likes the decorations tho he has asked if they had to be so brightly coloured and if there had to be so much glitter

I say decorations but hes a secret gremlin at heart and is super close to snickering at all times bc of the pranks

Also yes paranoia mildly dads roman it's great but he dads in an older sibling type way

So pat and logan are all "hes fitting in as an older brother well" and they tell him abt their approval of his older brother chaos and hes just like "no this is how I am deal with it nothing to do with brothers" bc hes not telling them abt his kids he doesnt trust them

Hes up at like midnight complaining with logan abt how patton doesnt let him be full chaos gremlin and logan says "mmmhmm did your parents in the dark side let you go wild with the chaos" and paranoia just,,,,, looks at him, dead in the eyes, and says "I dont have parents"

Cue logan being confusion

Paranoia, who genuinely didn't have parents: my parents are mr sparkles and the cat we've had for my entire life

Logan, who doesnt know they had a cat and is now worried bc "are you taking care of it???": ???

Paranoia: it's great for keeping the Others in line tho I just say "do your chores or no snuggle time with ms peregrin" and they do their chores while I'm making dinner

logan, incredibly confused: i don't know what you mean but ok

Paranoia: yeah theyre dumb but it's the level of dumb youd expect from my idiots

Or he slips up and refers to them as his children/kids and logan, not realizing they have an Actual Father/Sons relationship/age difference(paranoias abt.late 20s early 30s, remus defies all logic and has been about 9-10 for a few years now, and dees like early teens) just says "huh how.interesting would it be to have to deal with people your age that immature" and paranoias just. "Y e a h t h e y r e t o t a l l y t h e s a m e a g e a s I a m"

Duke is very much baby and upon seeing duke eating glue paranoia and honesty the idiots decided to try it too

theyre so dumb dsdhdhdhjsdh

They AREEE and paranoia, after discovering that duke has the h a r d i e s t immune system they decide to test exactly what he can and cannot safely eat bc he may be dumb but hes also def a Dad and he just wants to take care of his kids and if that includes making sure that duke can safely consume toilet bleach then so be it

Duke can eat almost anything short of actual cyanide but cyanide just makes him sick like stomach bug sick

He somehow gets a fever,,,,, he has it for like half an hour and paranoia is amazed

Hes in bed,,,,, paranoia makes him soup,,,,,, hes all better and running around again

Paranoias parenting rules:

Dont murder your brothers pls

Do your chores or no snuggle time with ms peregrin

Glitter is always a yes

Insults are fine just make sure you dont overstep and make your brothers insecure

all of them are printed and then the last one is scrawled at the bottom in

If you get sick, tell him immediately bc he will find out and he will be the most obsessive parent to make sure you feel better ASAP

If your pronouns/name/function change, tell him immediately, he'll make sure you dont feel uncomfortable as well as he can

Duke dont put dish soap in honestys baked goods you know he cant digest it

It's a nice system for making chaos but keeping it manageable

They're all printed then the last one's scrawled in glitter gel pen and duke wrote a reply that said (I'm sorry yall dont have as good an immune system as I do)

There was a whole passive aggressive arguement on the bulletin for the next week before it got taken down to make room for dukes art

They eventually started just putting them up over each other and using magnets instead of thumbtacks

The entire bottom portion of the walls are painted in chalkboard paint so theres no unerasable drawing on the walls and the rest of the paint is magnetic so they can hang pieces everywhere

Dukes improving rapidly tho and doesnt like looking at his old art all the time so paranoia holds onto the drawings in several filing cabinets in case he ever wants to do redraws or needs his original prints to make something in the Imagination

also bc,,, sentimental

jus a little

Yeah bc "yes my child draws nothing but blood gore and new animals but hes a creative genius and I love all of his art"

Roman: anxiety I can see why you left

Paranoia: ??? What?? It's spoopy season??

Roman: there was BLOOD on the WALLS

Paranoia, internally: oh!!!! Duke perfected his blood recipe!!!!

Paranoia, externally: how did it taste?

Roman: WHO TASTES THE BLOOD ON THE WALLS?!?!

Paranoia: if it tasted like lemons or citrus you need to stay off of most foods, stick to crackers and broth- don't eat anything heavy until you're sure you wont throw it up

Patton, who was making cereal: ????

Also!!!! @iliveinprocrasti-nation Thanks for helping me flesh this AU out!!!

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