#Dare I say I am the only one who plays the game as intended (fucking insane)
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Everytime I play Disco Elysium the ghost of Harry Du Bois takes over my body like I'm nothing more than a mere vessel and uses it to harass working class women, dig through trashcans and continuously spout his undying love for Lt. Kim Kitsuragi
#When I play in VC I have to remind my friends that Harry is speaking using my body#I simply become Detective Harry Du Bois#We are one and the same#This is the true video gaming experience#Dare I say I am the only one who plays the game as intended (fucking insane)#Like I got to the ship yard WAY earlier than intended by ignoring Measurehead and getting distracted looking for drugs by a jacket 😭#ALSO NO SPOILERS PLEASE#I AM NOT DONE WITH THE GAME#Harry only takes over my body at opportune moments so progress is slow going#The best games involve spiritual possessions#Disco Elysium#Harry Du Bois#It's not an ObituaryBug post if the tags aren't 2x longer than the actual post
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Encanto
Pairing: Benny Miller x f!Reader
Summary: You encounter Benny while playing a bachelorette party game that involves karaoke.
Word Count: 3.4k+
Rating: Teen. Though this fic isn’t explicit, my blog is 18+ only.
Warnings: Language. Drinking alcohol. Benny being Benny. Fluff. Puns (it’s Benny; of course, there are puns). Disney.
Notes: Totally inspired by the fact I cannot stop singing songs from Encanto. This is pure fan service, and I am the fan. I hope you love this golden retriever of a man as much as I do. Enjoy!
If you want to be added to my taglist, join here or just let me know.
Main Masterlist
Sing karaoke with a stranger.
As your eyes silently scan the card, you aren’t sure you’re reading it correctly, feeling like your head is spinning and vision blurring from all the drinks you've consumed. You stare at the letters sitting on the obnoxious hot pink card beneath the words "Bachelorette Dare Card,” wondering if this is real or some sort of nightmare. Although you found the game annoying and even embarrassing at times, you still participated, not wanting to ruin a good friend's party by not joining the festivities. You hadn’t yet opted out of a dare by buying the bride a drink, but now you wonder if this is the right time.
“Hey, Mel!” you shout loud enough for your friend to hear over the music. The dark-haired girl wearing a veiled headband with the word “Bride” on top turns to you. “I think the next one’s on me.”
“Yeah?” Melissa questions, the simple word slurred and spoken louder than probably intended.
You look around the crowded bar. There’s no way you’re going to put all these poor souls through the hell of listening to you sing. That should be classified as cruel and unusual punishment for a crime no one committed. Not to mention, you’re not interested in dragging a stranger down to the pit of shame with you.
“Yeah,” you respond, your mind made up. “Next one’s definitely on me.”
“Oh, c’mon. It can’t be that bad!” Leah, who’s wearing a “Maid of Honor” sash, playfully mocks. “Let me see.” She snatches the card out of your hand before you can respond. “‘Sing karaoke with a stranger.’ Psh! That’s an easy one.”
“Says the one who doesn’t have to make a complete ass of themselves in front of the whole bar,” you respond, somewhat playful but mostly serious.
“That’s the fun of karaoke!” Melissa exclaims.
“Yeah. It’s supposed to be embarrassing. You just have to be drunk enough to not care.” Leah hands you a shot that she hadn’t yet taken. “Drink up!”
“I don’t know…” you begin, but you don’t know what to even say.
“I’ll even help you find someone,” Leah adds. “C’mon!” She beckons you to follow her then disappears into the crowd before you can protest
Looking down at the little cup of liquid courage, you sigh before muttering, “Fuck it.”
After swallowing the contents, you put the glass on a nearby table and follow Leah's trail, catching up to her as she walks up to a table filled with four gorgeous men, each more attractive than the other. They’re laughing about who knows what, eyes crinkled and so lost in whatever they’re talking about that they don’t immediately notice your friend’s presence.
“Boys…,” Leah greets as they quiet down, which gathers their attention. Their postures change as they look up at her, obviously interested in why a beautiful girl is standing in front of their table. However, it seems she only has the full attention of three of the four.
A lone pair of piercing blue eyes fall on you, belonging to a man wearing a dirty and faded green hat backwards, locks of blond hair falling from beneath it and curling around his neck. When you first approached the table, he was sitting with his arms raised, fingers locked on the back of his head, a bright, wide grin on his face as he laughed with the others. Now, his arms fall, the sleeves of his shirt tightly clinging to his muscles as he loosely folds them across his chest, veins bulging in his forearms. Though you try not to meet his gaze for long, his eyes appear innocent and kind, filled with anything but lust as he looks up at you, seeming more like a puppy who just wants your love and attention.
Your stomach does a kickflip and your heart speeds up, but you chalk it up to nerves. There’s no way he’s really looking at you…not like that.
Fuck, he’s adorable though.
“You have our attention, cariño,” a man with olive skin and graying dark hair says, desire in his eyes as he looks up at Leah.
“My friend here” -she gestures to you, and you force a friendly smile, maintaining silence in fear of blurting out something stupid, alcohol leaving you mostly unfiltered- “could really use a favor.”
“Define ‘favor,’” another man, one with short blond hair, calmly demands. He is sitting nonchalantly, his arm resting on the table, his forearm tattoo on full display.
“I need someone to sing with me,” you pipe up, pointing to the stage where a duo is currently singing a terrible rendition of Garth Brook’s “Friends in Low Places,” if you can call mostly yelling unintelligible sounds into a microphone “singing.” “Stupid, I know, but it’s for a dare.”
The blond immediately seems disinterested, snickering at the request, and you really can’t blame him.
Leah shoots you a look, as if to suggest that was the worst possible way to go about it. Do you even know how to talk to men?
“Why don’t you sing something with her, Fish?” the olive-skinned man asks. He pokes the ribs of the guy sitting next to him, one wearing a cap with a Standard Oil logo on the front, his arms crossed as he leans back in his chair and looks down at the table. “I’m sure you know something catchy that’ll get it done.”
“Fuck you, pendejo,” he responds, uncrossing his arms long enough to push him away.
Meanwhile, the blond in the green hat dips his head back and lets out a loud laugh, causing the others to look at him confusedly. When he notices, he asks, “What? Tell me you didn’t do that on purpose. Fish? Catchy? It was perfect.”
Though you didn't grasp the unintentional pun when it was said, you can’t help but smile now that it’s been pointed out. Not to mention, the green-capped blond’s smile is contagious.
Seeming to ignore the blond, the man named Fish turns to his friend and suggests, “Why don’t you do it since you’re so keen on volunteering people?”
“Singing isn’t exactly my forte,” the olive-skinned man replies.
The blond man laughs again. “See! You are doing it on purpose.”
“The fuck I am, man.”
The blond rolls his eyes. “Fine, Pope. Whatever you say,” he concedes. “If you were actually trying, they’d just end up falling flat anyway. Like Fish here if he tried to sing. Everyone knows you can’t tune a fish.”
He is struggling to maintain his composure as he speaks, but he manages to say the words before cracking a smile, obviously proud of himself.
You want to laugh loud, but you keep a hand over your mouth, knowing the others aren't as amused as you are.
“Jesus Christ,” the short-haired blond man says, putting a hand on his forehead and trying to hide his face in apparent shame.
“You done?” Pope questions, seeming irritated.
“Yeah, sure,” the man seems to relent, sitting back in his seat, arms crossed. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to strike a chord.”
Fish covers his mouth with the palm of his hand, hiding the amusement he seemed to find in Pope’s annoyance.
“Hey,” you chime in, feigning seriousness. “You should probably give it a rest before you get in treble.”
It takes half a second for the blond to comprehend, but his face quickly changes from puzzled to excited.
“Yes!” he exclaims with a laugh, pointing at you, causing an awkward laugh to escape your lips. “See? She gets it.”
“Since you’re so likeminded, why don’t you help her, Ben?” Pope suggests.
Ben? Is that his name? Is it short for something? Benjamin, maybe? Benedict? Ben. Ben. BEN. It’s so easy to- Damn it! Stop. Bad!
“Seeing as none of you assholes are willing to help, I’d be happy to,” Ben says.
You quickly snap out of your daydream. Surprised, and unsure you heard correctly, you question, “Really?”
He rises from his seat and it’s nearly impossible to ignore how tall he is, how built he is, or just how incredible sexy he looks in jeans.
Flashing you a crooked smile, he assures you, “Yeah, sure. Why not?”
“Don’t pick anything stupid,” you overhear Fish say to him.
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll be sure to pick something you’ll like,” Ben replies, and you swear you can see mischief in his eyes.
“Someone better record this shit,” the short-haired blond mutters.
“Fuck off, Will,” Benny grumbles, causing Will to snicker.
After stepping up to you, he looks at you, and you can see him closely for the first time. His eyes glisten like crystals flashing in the rough while his smile shines as bright on the summer sun. There's just the right amount of stubble on his face, and it takes all your willpower not to touch it, to prove to yourself that he’s real. There's something magical about him, and you're captivated by him.
He gestures for you to start walking, insisting, “Lead the way, sweetheart.”
You feel heat rise in your cheeks, but convince yourself he didn’t mean anything by the pet name. He’s just being nice. You hope he’s nice at least. A guy who knows fishy music puns can’t be bad, right?
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you remind him.
“I know. I want to.” He seems sincere, so you believe him.
“Thanks,” you reply with a smile, then turn and head toward the front of the bar.
“So…Team Bride, huh?” he questions, gesturing to your shirt as the two of you walk, clearly trying to make conversation. “Bold choice. I’m more of a Team Jacob kind of guy.
You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips, not expecting to hear any sort of Twilight reference from him. “Oh God. You did not just say that.”
He laughs nervously. “My bad. Team Edward?”
Your laughter continues. “Fifteen years ago, maybe. But God, we are not talking about that stage of my life right now.”
Ben chuckles. “Alright. Maybe another time then. Name’s Benny, by the way.”
Benny… That is so fucking cute. It suits him.
You offer your name as you come to a halt near the DJ booth, staring blankly ahead of you, realizing you have no idea what you’re doing.
“Nice to meet you. Do you know what you want to sing?”
“I, uh…I hadn’t put any thought into it, actually. I’ve never done this before.”
“Karaoke or karaoke with a stranger?”
“Yes,” you respond with an awkward giggle. “I’ve, uh… Well, to be honest, I really didn’t want to do this. My friends basically bullied me into it.”
“We don’t have to do this then,” Benny offers, seeming concerned. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”
“No, no. It’s fine,” you insist. “I’ve already made it this far. I just…I didn’t think anyone would want to listen to a dying cat. I mean, I make Yoko Ono sound good.”
Benny laughs. “I’m sure you have a beautiful voice.”
Heat rises in your face once more and you momentarily drop your gaze.
“Besides, karaoke isn’t about singing well,” he adds. “It’s about having fun, right?”
You nod. “I’d hope so.”
He grins. “So, why don’t we make this fun?”
“I can’t say no to that. What do you have in mind?”
Bright, colorful lights shine on the two of you as you stand on the small stage at the front of the bar. Grasping the microphone, you look to Benny. Although you're still a bit nervous, his presence seems to soothe you. You got this – he told you as much before helping you up on the stage, his hand hovering near the small of your back as if prepared to hold you steady if need be.
Benny seems to notice you out of the corner of his eye. He looks at you and throws you a wink that causes the whole left side of his face to scrunch, making the corner of his mouth rise in a crooked smile. It’s so strange, but somehow, he makes you feel like you can conquer anything together.
Could he get any cuter?
Returning a smile, you look at the screen and nod, indicating that you’re ready for the song to begin.
It was a song you knew well, one that seemed to live permanently in your brain ever since you saw the movie Encanto. You couldn’t help but immediately agree without question when he suggested it.
The music begins, and immediately you start to sing.
We don’t talk about Bruno, no, no, no
We don’t talk about Bruno…
You’re animated as you sing, waving your hand and wagging your finger towards Benny then the audience. If you have to do this, why not have fun doing it?
But it was my wedding day.
(It was our wedding day)
Benny chimes in and you shoot him a sideways glance as if he isn’t supposed to be singing with you.
We were getting ready and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
(No clouds allowed in the sky)
Bruno walks in with a mischievous grin
(Thunder!)
It's almost impossible not to laugh, his enthusiasm so fun and adorable, but you somehow manage to place a hand on your hip and give him an annoyed look.
You telling this story, or am I?
(I’m sorry, mi vida, go on)
The two of you dance to the music as the words effortlessly leave your lips, until finally, you reach the end of the duet.
We don’t talk about Bruno, no, no, no.
We don’t talk about Bruno!
You turn and look at each other as you sing the last two lines, giving you the chance to stare deeply into his bold blue eyes. You focus on him, only him, your surroundings fading away, leaving only the two of you together. Music continues to play as you no longer sing along, so lost in him that you don't even notice.
A moment later, you snap back to reality and realize the duet has ended, so you awkwardly place the microphone back in its stand. Shooting him one last glance, you walk off the stage, and before you realize it, you’re at the bar waiting for a drink you don’t even remember ordering, your head reeling from the alcohol and adrenaline pumping through your veins.
Leah joins you at the bar, seemingly in awe. “Am I crazy or did you two have, like, an insane amount of chemistry?”
“I…I don’t know,” you say breathlessly, looking down as the bartender places a drink in front of you. You heart is pounding rapidly, beating furiously against your chest. Did you seriously just do that?
You lose the thread of the conversation, your friend’s praise over your performance falling on deaf ears. All you can hear in your head is Benny’s voice, that deep, resonating voice. All you can see is his smile, bright and infectious, and those beautiful eyes staring back at you in adoration.
“Ooh, I think he’s coming over,” you hear her say as you gulp down your drink, and you have to stop yourself from turning around to look.
You begin to say something to her, wanting to know what to do, but she disappears before you have a chance to say anything. Though you sense a new body beside you at the bar, you don’t immediately turn, waiting for him to acknowledge you first. After he orders a drink, there are several moments of silence, to the point that you wonder if he’ll even say anything. Is he so embarrassed by your performance that he never wants to speak to you again?
“I think you’ll be happy to know that you didn’t sound like a dying cat,” Benny finally says. “At least not to me.”
You chuckle under your breath. When you turn to look at him, he is standing with a hand resting on the bar, his body turned toward you, but not uncomfortably in your space.
“You didn’t sound half-bad either,” you reply, not daring to admit that his voice is as gorgeous as he is.
“I’ve had some practice,” he says casually. “Mostly in the shower.”
You chuckle, but your mind tries to wander to imagining him in the shower. No! Quit it! “I, uh… I love singing in the shower,” you admit, trying to keep the conversation flowing. “I put on a pretty decent soap opera.”
Benny responds with a hearty laugh. “That’s so stupid. I love it!”
“Thanks,” you say with a soft, shy smile, then take another sip of your drink.
After a moment of silence, he questions, “Do you come to this bar often?”
Pursing your lips to hide yet another smile, you look at him judgingly. “Smooth. Subtle. You totally win,” you respond before allowing your lips to curl into a grin.
“It’s not a competition. But if it was, seeing you smile is the only reward I need.”
It’s so cheesy, but you eat it up. Your stomach seems to do a kick flip, and you’re not quite sure what to think.
“You know, there aren’t many guys who know Disney music, let alone volunteer to sing it,” you state matter-of-factly.
Benny chuckles, then looks down at the bar, trying to formulate his response. “Yeah. I, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck. “My niece… Well, she’s not really my niece. My friend Catfish – Frankie. He has a little girl. Lucía. I help him out with her from time to time, try to give him a break whenever I can. It’s one of the ways I repay him for helping me train.”
“Train?”
“Yeah. I, uh… Well, I’m a cage fighter. I fight, and I teach people how to fight.”
“Oh!” you say in surprise. “Wow… That’s, um…” You’re flustered. A mix martial artist that’s very likely wrapped around a little girl’s finger? He really can’t get any hotter. “That’s impressive. I take it you train to a lot of princess music then.”
“Would you be surprised if I said ‘I’ll Make a Man Out of You’ from Mulan is my top track on Spotify?”
“You’re kidding!”
He laughs. “Yeah, I am. But if it was up to Lucía, it probably would be. She eats, sleeps, and breathes princesses. Don’t know how or why considering she’s been raised around a ring with four guys, but yeah… Encanto is her current obsession, and it annoys the hell out of Fish. He can’t escape it.”
“Not even at a bar, where he likely expected it least,” you speculate aloud. “That’s so fantastically evil.”
Benny grins proudly. “I think we have a lot in common,” he notes. “You think I can buy you a drink sometime?”
“You can buy me one now,” you offer, gesturing to your nearly empty drink. “But honestly? If you’re asking me on a date, I’m kind of over the whole ‘Let’s get drinks’ thing.”
“Alright,” he acknowledges. “Instead of ‘Let’s get drinks’ how about we skip to the real test?”
“The real test?” you question, obviously intrigued by what he has in mind.
“Yeah. Let’s see if we can last a day at Disney World together.”
Now that is one hell of a test.
“Depends,” you reply, trying to hide your excitement. “Which park are we talking?”
Benny raises an eyebrow. “Is this a test before the test?”
You shrug. “Let’s call it a pop quiz. See if you’re ready or have some work to do.”
“No pressure then, huh?” Bowing his head, he seems to think about it. When he looks back at you, he proposes, “I’m thinking we start the day at Magic Kingdom because, you know, it’s a given. You can’t go to Disney World and not experience Magic Kingdom. We’ll scream our heads off as we ride Thunder Mountain, eat churros every hour, and ride the teacups until we can’t see straight. Then maybe we hop on over to Epcot for dinner, drink around the world a little, and end the night with fireworks.”
Despite knowing there was no double meaning behind the suggestion, you tease him anyway, with a sly smile on your face “Fireworks, huh? We’ll see about that.”
Benny blushes. “No, I uh-”
You giggle at how flustered he seems to be, then interrupt, “I’m in.”
He lights up the room with his smile. “Yeah? When are you free?”
“What are you doing next Saturday?”
He shrugs, acting casual. “Going to Disney with you.”
A big, stupid grin slides onto your face. You bite your lip and give him a single nod. “It’s a date.”
#benny miller x reader#benny miller x you#benny miller x f!reader#triple frontier#garrett hedlund#benjamin miller#garrett hedlund x you#garrett hedlund x reader#garrett hedlund characters#triple frontier fanfic#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier fic#garrett hedlund fanfiction#benjamin benny miller#benjamin miller x reader#my fic
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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”
PART 23: PRETTY BOY
emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.
─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen)
─── soc. media + written fiction!
─── word count: a lil over 7k.
author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!
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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).
You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.
The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.
Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.
In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.
noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T
yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me
feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(
You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.
“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.
why does she sound like goofy
The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.
pack it up yandere simulator
idk whats going on but i think im into it?
villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC
“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”
More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”
“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”
“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”
“SD-what now?” Dream questions.
“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”
“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”
“Guess, Sherlock.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.
“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”
“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.
“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.
Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.
“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”
If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.
“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.
“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.
Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”
i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me
^already too late for me bro
As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.
Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.
He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”
He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.
“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”
“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”
“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.
“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.
“HEY!”
“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.
Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.
Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!
“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.
“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.
“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”
Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.
“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”
Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”
“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”
“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”
“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”
“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”
“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”
“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.
“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”
“You were not--”
“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”
“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”
“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.
Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”
“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.
BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS
yns_fishnets donated 5$
mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!
Your fishnets have a point!
“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.
“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.
“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”
“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”
“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”
“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”
“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”
“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”
“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”
“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.
“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.
“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.
“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”
NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK
MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T
“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”
“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”
“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”
“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”
finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for
i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)
the bis won
“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”
“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”
Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”
“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”
“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.
“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”
“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.
“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”
Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.
You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.
That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.
“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”
“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”
“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.
“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”
“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”
“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”
“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!
“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”
Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”
“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”
“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.
“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”
“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”
A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.
“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”
He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.
y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards
Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.
“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”
“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”
“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.
“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”
“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”
“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.
“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.
“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.
“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.
“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.
In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.
“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”
“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).
yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder
queen stop its embarrassing
bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3
More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.
The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.
it’s happening!!!!
omg omg omg omg
VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC
You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”
pack it up light yagami
this has awoken something in me.
^ same
The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.
Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.
“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.
It’s a knife.
In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.
Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.
Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.
So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.
“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.
You grin, “I was looking for something.”
Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.
“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.
“A knife.”
“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”
“Yes.”
“No!”
You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.
i love women
if evil bad...why seggy?
You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.
You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”
“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.
“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”
“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”
“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.
hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom
hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly
mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn
Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.
You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”
“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”
“Is it because you’re bald?”
“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.
You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.
You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.
“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”
You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.
“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.
“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.
“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.
“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”
“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.
“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.
Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.
“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.
“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.
only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3
corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever
the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite
“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.
You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”
“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.
“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”
“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.
“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.
You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.
“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”
“No fucking clue.”
“Y/n?” She tries again.
“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”
“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.
Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.
You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.
“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”
“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”
You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”
“SHIT!”
Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”
“I’m not Impostor!”
“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”
They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.
“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”
“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”
“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”
“I’d never do that, baby.”
Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.
“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”
Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”
“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”
“Holy shit.”
“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.
“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.
“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.
“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.
“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”
“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”
“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”
Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”
“No, she does.” James chimes.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”
More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.
Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai
more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙
#corpse husband#corpse#corpse husband x reader#corpse x reader#corpse social media au#corpse husband x y/n#corpse husband fic#corpse husband social media au#social media au#myso#make you say oh#quackity#dream smp#corpse x y/n#imagine#imagines#reader#xreader
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The Price You Pay
Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, mentions of murder, unclear timeline, blackmail, unprotected sex, fingering (F!receiving), smut, esoteric references to past abuse, manipulation, Dark!Fic
Words: 5.2k (holy fuck?)
Summary: You need his help. He names his price.
Notes: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 and her incredible 5K Soft!Dark Challenge and I can't believe I wrote over 5k words for a oneshot, making this the longest piece I've ever written. I took a blend of prompts: Mob!AU; “When I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this;” and “That’s a big favor you’re asking for, I think you need to make it worth my while.”
And this was intended to be a oneshot but now I can't stop thinking about it so thanks Siri, I think this is now a part of my WIPs too! Your work is amazing and I had a blast being able to take part in this!
As usual, my work is 18+ ONLY, Minors DO NOT INTERACT
You went to him first.
You went to him, handed them your business card and I want to speak to Steve Rogers.
Honestly they almost threw you out with an extra hole in your head but then the man of the hour walked right in.
So now you’re here. Now you’re here, sitting across a gorgeous dining table with a ten-course meal laid out and honestly you’re surprised they didn’t tie your wrists to the arms of the chair while you watch him eat and take in the look of those baby blue eyes scanning you over.
He even brought you non-alcoholic rosé, when you said you didn’t drink.
So.
So.
You wanted to talk to me?
Yeah, I do. Thought you’d just sit me in your office, have a consultation.
I like breaking bread with new friends. Have a nice dinner, get the wine flowing — of course, that’s not gonna loosen your tongue, but we’ll forgive it.
Oh. Cool, I like being forgiven.
He laughs at that one and the room, strumming with tension, snaps into amusement. So do you, cracking a half smile on dark red lips, before swallowing down the lump of anxiety threatening to break through and destroy everything. You need this. You need this and you can’t let anything — not your nervousness, not your morals, not him — stop you. You need this and it needs to be done and if this is what justice is in this fucking city then so be it.
Well, sweetness, you’ve got my attention. You want to talk business or pleasure?
That one makes you laugh, a little sharp and a little cruel, and the curling smirk on his face gets a little furrowed because he hears it too — pain.
It could be both, you say finally, picking up the glass of rosé-that-wasn’t, if your reputation is as real as they say it is.
He lifts a bite of cheesecake into his mouth and lets it melt on his tongue while he watches you, somewhere between impressed and incensed. You know the look — you saw it the last time he met you in court, but you weren’t there as allies then. Never thought you’d come to me, he admits finally, sounding halfway bemused at the idea, but you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Counsel?
You wince, or maybe smirk, eyes on the man before you.
It’s a game, a dance, a ruse, and the woman you thought you were thirteen months ago when you put four of Steve Rogers’s best men in jail for fifteen years — fifteen years longer than any District Attorney had ever managed to do before you, and you were just the rookie they handed a shit case to — is leagues different from the woman you are now, seated prim and proper in the lion’s den.
You’re not innocent. That’s not been your game for years — this life doesn’t leave room for innocence, it tears at you, leaves you tired and broken and ill.
Your colleagues learned to fear him a long time ago, the man before you. Captain America, leading the city, the country, the world into a new era of high tech crime all under his thumb. It’s a pretty shiny shield, the one that sits behind him, but mirrors are black on the other side and his soul is dark as coal.
You’re not an angel yourself, and this deal with the Devil isn’t for anyone but you.
I need someone taken care of.
So you come to me? I thought you were a lady of morals, Counsel.
Certain kinds of morals.
You can see him smile, see the way he raises his glass, the glimmer of malice and amusement in his eyes. So tell me. What’s the name?
You give it.
He’s not in the city, your target, but he will be. A Judge, an activist, real tough-on-crime-sweet-on-justice type of shit. You don’t tell him the reasons why, because those are yours, but you tell him the name. You tell him he’s a problem, you tell him he’s dangerous, you tell him you’ll pay to have him taken care of, you tell him you don’t want to practice in front of that black, black robe.
And he smiles like the Devil he is, watches you with a grin and drinks his whiskey in one last shot before slamming it down, Real woman of the law, aren’t you?
You said that when we met the first time.
He’s a hunter, you can see it in his eyes. That lion’s mane might be tamed right now but it won’t be for long and you’re playing with wild animals. The eyes on you are ice and daggers, daring you to do the one thing everyone in the office has been begging you not to do.
(Drop the charges, Rookie, the case is just to get your face in front of the judge.)
You upped the charges.
(Rookie, you don’t know what you’re dealing with, there’s other cases.)
You subpoenaed his phone records.
(Rookie, don’t make me drag you off this case!)
You won.
You had no witnesses and a jury you had to drag in from god-knows-where after you proved, over and over again, that he’d paid off the cohort in the courtroom. Finding people with nothing to lose and a desire to do their civic duty wasn’t harder than you thought — it was exactly as impossible as you expected.
But you did it.
That’s what you do, isn’t it? Push and push and fight, claw your fingers at the ledge and pull yourself up, you pay for your crimes in your blood, sweat and tears you pay for the things you could have done then and didn’tdo.
You pay.
And sometimes, that payment bounces back.
And when it was all said and done, when the closing statements were delivered, when the Jury came back out and the Judge — hands shaking, mouth agape, eyes wide — read out the verdict no one expected, you… didn’t feel any better, did you? There was no justice for you in that room, just the searing glare of ice-blue eyes and the burning of your steel spine.
Real woman of the law, aren’t you?
First words he said to you, while the courtroom emptied out and you stood there, facing the man you’d just made an enemy of with your briefcase in your hand and your eyes aflame.
I did my job.
Did you? Is that what you think your job is?
My job is justice, unflinching and blind, Mr. Rogers. I don’t care how much power you have or how afraid you leave this city, I’m going to do my job.
You could always let justice turn a blind eye.
Yeah. I could, but that wouldn’t make this any fun, would it? Thank you for the win, Mr. Rogers — I’m sure I won’t get many more.
You leave him with a smile on his face and the scent of your perfume in his memories.
He leaves you with the pride of victory in your bones and a reminder that your strife could be worth it.
One day.
How do you plan to fill that pit, the one you tossed the corpses of your old self into? The one you let them claw up out of, to haunt you? Remind you?
You’re digging your own grave and you know it, but you won’t let Steven Grant Rogers be the first one to toss a handful of dirt over your corpse.
But now here you are.
In his dining room, enjoying dessert and some sort of after-meal coffee. In need of him…
This might almost have been a date, if not for the topic of conversation.
So. You want a Judge taken out. What if he’s already on my payroll?
Why would you keep a dead man in your pocket?
You like the sound of his laugh, and you don’t even have the excuse of wine to fall back on when it warms your core. Don’t admit it though, don’t say it aloud, don’t let him get an in. Be smart, cross your legs tighter, keep your eyes on the prize.
You’re so close to the finish line.
That’s a big favor you’re asking for, Counsel, I think you need to make it worth my while.
Worth your while?
I’m not a charity. And since you put the guy I usually use to handle these things behind bars for a few years—
You know I can get him out too.
That’s not payment, that’s putting things right.
You take a drink. Steady on, girl.
I’m leaving the DA’s office.
That stops him.
Oh that stops him good, and he looks fascinated. Interested. You’ve said something he can use as leverage and it’s not just about a job. That smirk on his face is smug and his eyes are darker and he has to know the impact that look has.
Can’t falter, don’t falter, don’t give in.
Am I allowed to ask why?
No.
You’ve done your research. You just don’t know why you’re thinking about it now. Steven Grant Rogers, “Captain America,” leader of a crime family that had too many names to stamp out, bolstered by a mad scientist, a military man through-and-through who turned New York into his own private base against whatever stood against his way.
Get in his good graces and you’re set for life. Get in his good graces and you’re safe, you’re protected, you’re good.
Get on his bad side and you only make that mistake once.
There are no second chances in this game, and here you are, asking for one.
So what? You leave the DA’s office, you leave yourself open to me — you think leaving New York is going to be the thing that stops me, Counsel?
No.
Then what?
Breathe. Steady.
I know you gave me that win on purpose — you could have taken out my last jury cohort. This isn’t about the four men… and you know I’ll get them out. This is something else, but I’m not here to ask about what or why.
He falters just briefly, like he’s surprised you knew, but the crack in his mask smooths itself over as soon as it forms and he’s back to watching you, nodding along in silence while you breathe and watch him and keep talking.
But even then. I got four of your guys in prison. And I know how your organization works — I subpoenaed the documents, remember? Your lawyers are good, but they’re not used to people asking the right questions. You want someone to seal up the cracks you need someone who actually knows what to look for.
You have more than his attention, you have his interest, and now he’s leaning in a little. Imperceptibly, but enough. Scanning over you from across the table, like he’s thinking how you managed to get so impertinent in the face of the likes of him but that’s the thing — when the only thing you have left to lose is your life, you’ll risk everything.
So what are you offering?
Breathe. Don’t. Stammer.
Myself.
The chair scrapes and suddenly there’s the clicking of guns, aimed and ready until his hand rises up and he stops them and he’s stalking towards you.
This is the lion’s den, sweetness.
The stakes are higher and you ought to be braver and he’s got your chin in his hand before you have a chance to react, dragging you to your feet. Do you know what you’re offering me, Counsel? Low and hissed and hungry, like those perfect teeth might be sinking into your throat in the next moment.
Oh, you have no idea.
You get me. On your payroll — you know. The offer you sent me a year ago.
You think it’s still open?
If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have met with me.
The chuckle in your face makes your cheeks warm and you’re looking more flushed than you would like, the open shoulders of your dress suddenly feeling a lot more like a mistake the more you realize just what kind of meal he might make out of you tonight.
We might need to have a discussion about your workplace duties, Counsel.
You don’t notice the hand near your thigh until it’s too late, sliding up the soft fabric of your skirt until it’s squeezing your ass, until it’s jerking you towards him, until you’re pressed against his chest and the hand on your chin is now hooked around the back of your neck, thumb pushing your jaw until you’re forced to look at him. Won’t lie, when I woke up this morning, I certainly didn’t think my day would end like this, having your pretty little body in my arms,and you can look as indignant as you want but he’s got the upper hand and you only thought you were two steps ahead of him.
You think I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to put you in your place, Counsel? You’ve got a smart mouth — I wanna know what else it can do.
He doesn’t give you a chance to use that mouth to lash at him, lips sliding over yours, swallowing that indignant yelp with a punishing kiss. Nipping at the plushness of your lower lip until you open your mouth and yield to him with a sigh of reluctant surrender, let his tongue slide past that barrier for him to explore. He’s got his fingers wound through your hair, just a little too tight and whether the whimper in your chest is because of the pain or because of the want, he doesn’t care.
Knew you’d be sweet, Counsel… softly, when he pulls back to look at you, take a look at those love-swollen lips and your ruined lipstick, the pretty way you pant at him already, the heat burning your cheeks. Pay no attention to the slick warmth between your thighs, pay no attention to the way he makes you burn already, pay no attention to how your fingers have curled into the lapel of his coat to hold yourself steady, pay no attention to how you suddenly miss the pressure of his lips.
All that smart-talk and now you’re quiet, Counsel? F’I knew it just took a kiss to get you to shut up, I would’ve done that at trial, he’s purring in your ear, soft and sweet and you should push at his chest, so uncurl your fingers girl and push.
I didn’t say I was selling my body, there’s your harshness, and there he is, laughing at you again, the grip on your hair jerking your head back until you’re looking into those dagger-cold eyes again.
You don’t make the rules here, Counsel, I do, and you need me more than I need you. So if you want to make sure your Judge can’t start wreaking havoc on your career… you might want to get used to readjusting it for me. I promise I’ll make you feel nice, if you let me…
And if I don’t?
Then I take what I want and I don’t feel bad for not holding up my end of the bargain. Your choice, Counsel, you cum willingly and I’ll give you everything you want. Don’t, and it’ll hurt you more than it hurts me.
That’s not a threat, that’s a promise, and suddenly you’re more scared than you ever thought you’d be, wondering if you’ll need to sell another part of your soul to take him down after. How much of yourself will you put up as collateral to get justice for the wrongs you were never able to correct?
You’re afraid.
Oh sweetness, you’re afraid.
Here? Now?
No, Counsel, we’re gonna do this right, aren’t we? You wanna be in bed with me, I’ll take you to bed with me. Come on, say it. Say the word.
Say no. Say no, rail and fight, stamp your heels into the expensive leather of his shoes, jam your knee into the sensitive between his legs, scream and yell and tell him you will never let another man take advantage of you again to help you reach your goals. Do it. Do the thing you swore you would do the next time a man like him — men who think they can take anything from anyone, men who think they own the world and the women in it, men who think you aren’t strong enough to fight back — propositioned you just like this.
You’re selling your soul to get rid of a man just like this.
But that’s coiling heat in your core that wasn’t there the last time, was it? That’s want. That’s the realization that you like the way this predatory smile feels, that you like the way this one wants you. You’re not her, not scared and alone and helpless. You could fight back and run and maybe escape if you were lucky.
You could choose.
He’s let go of your hair to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers, soft and sweet, You gonna give me an answer, Counsel, or am I gonna have to take it?
Say something. Say no. Scream. Say no say no say no say— Yes.
It’s a whisper. A desperate, soft whisper. A helpless, lonely whisper. It’s enough.
He sweeps you around until you’re pressed with your back against his unyielding chest, feeling him flex with every movement, broad arm wrapped around your shoulders from the front. All of you are dismissed, and that’s when you remember there were others in the room with you. Others who just watched you concede to becoming Captain America’s newest plaything and the burn on your cheeks is more shame than lust. You pull at his arm briefly, futilely, earning a tighter hold for your efforts and a whispered don’t make me choke you, before you are half-walked, half-dragged out of the dining room.
The walk to his room is slow and agonizing as you’re pulled along, barely struggling but barely helping at the same time, tears sliding down your cheeks as you come to terms with what’s going to happen next — no one is going to save you tonight, no one’s going to interrupt and drag you out, this is your job and this is your place and here you are.
No one speaks. There’s no sound but the steady tap of your heels and his shoes on fine marble. Even your sobs are silent, even your breathing is muffled, until the stairs are traversed and the faintest click of a lock turning opens the door to the rest of your life.
You made a deal.
Time to pay.
Sit on the bed.
You move as if in a trance, and he watches your face, the hint of waterproof mascara failing to do its job, the smudged ruby red of your lipstick. Don’t give me that look, you knew what you were signing up for when you walked into this house, Counsel.
His hands are gentler than you’d expect, when he wipes away the streaks your tears leave down your pretty cheeks, coaxing you to look up at him, We’ll set ground rules later. Tonight? I wanna see if I can get that mouth of yours to beg for me.
It won’t, you snap without thinking, knifeblade sharp and cruel, ready for a fight again. He promised you that once, in a hiss you thought you’d misheard but no, you heard him just fine and now if he thinks he can quench your fire and have you pleading just because you sold your body for the prospect of revenge then he’s wrong.
Thing is, he laughs like that’s a challenge, and the hand holding your chin so gently is wrapped around your throat before you know it, silencing your voice with just the right application of pressure. I can do this all night, Counsel. Do you think you can last that long?
Fear. Anger. Indignation. You are fury made flesh and he is manipulating you with just the barest press of his palm and sliding over you, until you’re laid out there on soft sheets and he’s looming over you, splaying that big hand out and sliding it down your throat, over your chest, feeling the ruching of the fabric under his palm. You wrapped yourself up like a present for me, didn’t you sweetness?
The change in nickname isn’t lost on you but here you are, glaring up at him while he smiles so beatifically it leaves your blood boiling and your skin steadily warming. The rise and fall of your chest is hypnotic, every angry breath a swear you don’t utter, every inhale your protests dying in your throat. What can you say, what would you say, right now? There’s nothing that can change the way he looks at you, or the way his eyes flicker from ice to blue fire the more he takes stock of the pretty little thing he’s about to start sharing his bed with.
Fuck, you’re beautiful, that one shocks you, but not as much as the sudden rush of cold air when he tears the emerald green fabric of your dress down and reveals the soft swells of your breasts, nipples peaked from the sudden cold.
You don’t get much time to gasp, just something soft and strangled before he turns your voice to whimpers, wrapping lips around that pebbled tip and laving his tongue over sensitive flesh. Where are your words now, Counsel, while he threatens the softness of your chest with the scrape of his teeth, when he slides his hands over the round curve of your thighs and parts your legs so he can press himself between them, so he can press himselfagainst you? Where is the knife-dagger of your wit to protest each soft, suckling kiss to your skin, each press of his fingers like he could just squeeze his ownership of you into the plushness of your hips, into the sweet swell of your ass? What do you say to the dirty little thrust of his hips as he bucks with his own burning need, reminding you just how much this is for hispleasure as he will make it for yours.
You would, could, should push him off and instead what are you doing? Curling your fingers into the silk-smooth of his comforter, desperate to writhe out of your own skin away from the burning pressure between your thighs, the foreign, unfamiliar heat you suddenly feel like you might be craving.
Anyone ever touch you like this before me, Counsel?Warm breath splays across your skin when he questions you, eyes fixed on yours and he waits. Answer him, answer him, tell him he’s nothing, tell him you’ve had better, lie and destroy that ego, lie lie lie lie—
Nnnh—no.
He looks like you’ve just told him the best news of his life, eyes wide and blown with lust, Oh is that right? You’re saying no one’s ever touched you this good? Or just no one’s ever touched you at all?
You don’t have to answer. The furious blush on your cheeks? The way your eyes slide away from his? The way you writhe, trying to press your thighs together to relieve the pressure and finding the effort futile? If the man’s grin could get any wider, it would, right now. Oh sweetness, we’re going to have so much fun exploring your body together…
He pulls back just enough to take a look at you, already flushed and writhing and overwhelmed and if he could take a picture of this right now he would. He’ll save that for later though. Tonight? Tonight is just the two of you, and his hands are back to your skirt, pushing the tight fabric up over your round hips and revealing the lace of your panties… just before he rips them off, to the sound of your indignant yelp Steve!
You’re going to call me Captain, sweetness, we’re not close enough to use my name just yet.
No. No you’re not, and he’s not sure you’ll ever be — he rather likes the idea of hearing you whimper out his title when he gets you desperate and wanting.
He touches, slow and steady, watching you try to jerk away and tutting at you when you do, fingers at your delicate nerves like an assault on your pleasure. Bite your lip, bite back the moans, whine at him like he’s wounded you, You’re so wet, sweetness, you’re so desperate for me aren’t you, as he palms his cock to relieve the pressure on himself. You’re going to beg before he does and he’s patient, he’ll last the night.
St-stop it, it’s too— he shushes you ahtahtaht and rests his free hand on your mound, holding you down so his probing, inspecting fingers can take stock of the velveteen plushness of your delicate cunt. It’s too much, too much and you want to scream the moment he presses one finger into you, already overwhelmed, already so tightly wound the barest touches are unraveling you steadily.
You’re such a pretty thing, all desperate and needy, sweetness. You wanna cum already, don’t you? So busy, never gave anyone the chance to fuck that stuck-up bitch right out of you, did they? It’s almost pitying, isn’t it, the way he talks, hums at you while you’re reduced to a whining, whimpering mess so soon, so desperate for the release he’s on the edge of denying you, feeling you flexing around his finger and then the second leaping jolt of your body when another joins the inspection. Taking careful stock of the pretty cunt he owns now, and he’s careful to curl his fingers just right as he seeks the spot to hammer just to get you to scream.
You don’t, not yet, but that’s okay too, because he sees the way you take desperate hold of the sheets, the way your eyes roll backwards just slightly, the way you strain against his heavy hand to arch your back. Gotta tell you, sweetness, I imagined you under me a thousand and one ways but this one, right now? Tops the list. You ready to beg for me?
Do it. Do it and end your pleasurable torment. Do it and be released from the pressure, the coiling want. Surrender to him. Let him have you.
The white hot rush of your orgasm is not unexpected to him, his curling, cruel fingers having found the sweetness of your g-spot, but — you, too busy climbing the ranks to think of your own pleasure, too busy demanding your due from an unjust world explore your own warmth beyond that of a memory of a college hookup you would rather forget — you left breathless and wanton in the heat of the explosion he draws out of you, mewling something desperate and pleading against your own will and the song of it fills his ears like it’s all he’s ever wanted. There it is, and I thought we’d be here all night. A thumb flickers over the nerves at your entrance and you practically jump, something between a yelp and a moan escaping your lips.
First one’s just a treat, sweetness. Now on, you cum when I say you do, understand?
You nod.
Oh you nod, and you are lost, here and now. Sensitive and broken and there is so little of that steel spine here, writhing in his sheets and ohyou don’t know the things you do to him.
Think you can go again, sweetness? He’s purring, smug, twisting fingers stretching you slowly, muttering under his breath about how fucking tight you are around his fingers, how good you’re going to feel for him, and the smugness on his face is slowly fading into a dark consternation, brows furrowed like he’s somehow angry at you for being plush and delicate and fuckable.
You’re almost begging him to stop, and yet the pressure is building again, the twisting, coiling heat that leaves you breathless and mewling and he looks like he might be trying to immortalize this moment forever. Say it, sweetness. Say you need me. Beg me for my cock.
That’s it.
That’s what you need to, you need to beg, you need to give in. No more fighting, no more arguing no more —
Please…
Please what, sweetness, come on now. You got a way with words. The snarl is so barely contained.
Please, Captain, please just…
What do you need, sweetness? The fingers are relentless, the buzz in your nerves is overwhelming, you can barely even hear yourself talk, much less him.
Please just fuck me, Captain, I need your cock! It’s hurried and it’s crude and it’s desperate and it’s exactly what he wants as just another wall crumbles and you fall off your pedestal right into his arms.
He’s barely able to resist the buck of his hips, the need to be inside you, the knowledge that you are soft and velvet and you could be all over his senses just like this.
When did he free his cock? You don’t know, you just know it’s practically salvation when he sinks into you, when he fills you like you’ve been desperate for and Oh sweetness…pours from his lips just as you hiss out something like praise right back at him.
You’re so full and he’s so gentle, at first, like you’re made of crystal in his arms, like the slow shifting of his hips might have you shattering underneath him if he’s not careful. Cradling you, even, sliding your legs around his narrow hips as he leans in and takes a hungry kiss from your wanting, whimpering mouth.
Love this look on you, all wrapped around me, whispered low and slow into your ear, sweetness you have no idea how good you look…
Melt into those compliments, melt into him, because the way he’s holding you is divine and you can feel him so deep in you it’s making your head spin. When did your arms end up around him? When did you start clinging to him like an anchor, start winding your fingers through his hair, start leaving the marks of your nails on his back to the sound of his own needy groaning?
He noses your cheek and leaves a mark of ownership on your neck with hungry lips, knowing you’ll bruise a beautiful flower right over your pulsebeat and continuing the steady assault on your nerves, cunt-first.
Harder. Faster. More.
And oh, sweetness, you do shatter.
You shatter all around him, you shatter into something divine and rapturous, full of him and filled with him and he cums so deep inside you as you do, still fucking you through your joined climax, hips rutting and breath hitching and nearly furious at you for the way his vision whites out too, the way he feels like he can Never get enough and so he hisses that at you like an accusation while his thoughts reorient back to reality, back to smugness, back to the control you took from him while he tried to strip you of yours.
In the end, as he pulls away from you and sinks to the side of you, watching your sweet expression as you return to the reality of your new situation, he is satisfied… thoroughly.
Oh yeah, I think we can make this a working relationship, Counsel.
#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge#steve rogers x reader#mob!au#mob!steve#steve rogers x you#steve rogers smut#dark!fic#dark captain america#captain america#writing challenge
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Hi! If you’re taking requests could you write a Mollymauk x Reader where they’re really close friends and he calls her a bunch of cute nicknames but then Molly notices that she starts getting really dejected or just leaves when he starts talking to new people and she ends up confessing that it’s because she’s fallen for him and doesn’t like to be around when he’s calling other random strangers “darling” and “love”? Thank you!!!
Hope you enjoy! 😘
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When you were walking down the streets in search for a place to stay the night Molly had pulled you along by your arm wrapping it around his, proudly parading around like he usually does, the Nein following his lead, some of them definitely not keeping their opinions to themselves watching you two go. Of course these comments are simply met with a laugh and a kiss to your temple, words whispered in your ear to make you blush. The red creeping up your cheeks as you shoot a glance backwards are usually enough to make those comments from Beau at least to stop. Jester, the hopeless romantic she is will just squeal and take out here sketchbook to capture this moment in detail.
Inn found, the place is nice and cozy but also a bit more pricy than the group had hoped. That’s an easy task for Mollymauk Tealeaf to fix. He lets go of your arm when you reach the bar, the others behind and leans on the counter top on his elbows biting his tongue and giving an innocent half smile letting the pointed canines show in all their glory as he bats his eyelashes.
“Are you sure you can’t give us a special deal? We’re taking four rooms already. Some of us will already share but I don’t particularly enjoy sleeping on the floor. Do you think you’d have a better offer, handsome.” Molly winks at the barkeep who, admittedly isn’t bad on the eyes is also taken aback by the tiefling’s blatant advances. So much so he stutters on offering a decent discount as Molly reaches out brushing his hand over the exposed lower arm of the barkeep who’s more bothered by being seen by his other patrons than the tiefling’s gestures. Molly’s enjoying every second of this as is clear by the attitude he carries, the grin on his face and the mischievous look in his eyes and he’s so caught up in his act he doesn’t notice you excuse yourself taking one of the keys and rushing off to one of the rooms.
“You’re a darling. Thank you so much for your generosity.” That’s the last you hear as you watch Molly lean in over the bar a little closer and the barkeep blushes wildly. With a shake of your head and boiling blood you walk up the stairs, enter the room and slam the door closed behind you dropping yourself onto the bed face buried into the pillow and let out a scream of frustration to be muffled by the the pillow.
It takes a good fifteen minutes of Molly flirting with the barkeep to also get a discount on meals and drinks for the night. He’d gladly sacrifice his time, not only because they’re running short on money and need the coin but also because he generally likes to mess with people and it was so easy. He had the barkeep a stuttering mess in seconds. That’s something to be proud of isn’t it? Either way he prides himself for it. Nevermind, the others are settled at a table, drinks poured but one’s missing. You’re missing. Where did you go? Molly looks around the tavern but doesn’t see you. He doesn’t miss a beat sending a wink to the barkeep when they make eye contact but returns his attention to the Nein.
“The pretty one, where did she go?” Molly asks.
“I’m right here Molly. Or am I not pretty enough for you?” Beau snorts slamming back her drink. She knows fully well he means you and she won’t miss an opportunity to tease the tiefling now she’s got ammo. She’ll play this game any day.
“The annoying one, that’s what you are.” Molly replies as Beau sticks out her tongue and takes the drink Jester slipped to her for seconds. Two drinks right after arrival? That does not bode well for the night… for Beau. He, however will have plenty of entertainment provided by the monk once she starts a drunken bar fight. At least they won’t be the ones getting kicked out. He’s got that barkeep in his pocket.
“Fuck you too, Mollymauk.” Beau grumbles into her tankard.
“I think she went upstairs to settle in but she’s not come back yet. Should we save her a drink?” Jester speaks as she holds back a unclaimed tankard from Nott the Brave who’s already done with her own.
“That’s alright. Thank you, Jester, for providing a useful answer to my previous question.” Beau shakes her head at Molly’s words but holds her tongue as Jester allows Nott to take the remaining tankard and before Beau can claim his, he slides it across the table over to Nott who defends it like there’s no tomorrow. Beau flips him off as he goes upstairs with a laugh.
Opening the door to your room without knocking Mollymauk sees you face down on the bed, belongings discarded at the foot of the bed. For a moment he considers you might just have tossed yourself onto the bed and allowed the exhaustion of the journey to overtake you but your breathing doesn’t match that of your sleeping form. Molly sneaks up to the foot of the bed and wraps an arm around your ankle yanking it. He’s met with a yelp and before he knows it he’s struck in the face with a pillow. When it drops to the floor he sees you sitting up arms crossed. You’re not as amused as he is with his antics. Weird. Usually you’d have laughed or retaliated with a witty remark before you both would be laughing. Now you’re glaring at him.
“What’s got you in such a foul mood, darling?” He asks as clearly you’re not just going to reveal the answer of your own volition because you felt like it. You bite your tongue holding back a comment so instead he sits next to you on the edge of the bed, facing you arm leaning on your raised knees and for just a moment your expression softens. Okay, so you’re not angry at him for something. That’s good. At least he knows he won’t be at the receiving end of your wrath.
“Nothing.” You mutter. Why is hit when his stupid face walks into the room you just forget why you were upset in the first place. Well, you know why but the feelings still disappears, that little voice in the back of your head saying it’s a stupid reason anyway.
“Clearly it’s something, love. You know you can tell me anything, right?” Molly doesn’t feel the need to tease or even try to do something, anything to lift your spirits or make you laugh. This isn’t something that’s simply laughed off. This is something that needs words first.
“I know.” You nod but you don’t move to say anything and just let yourself fall backwards onto the bed wiping your face letting out a disgruntled sigh. You still keep your knees raised providing the support for Molly’s current position and look up at him. The jovial and smug attitude is gone and replaced by one of calm and a hint of worry. He pats your thigh waiting, giving you a moment to seek for the right words or response, anything really.
“It’s stupid. Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about me. I’ll get over myself.” You offer him a weak smile but Molly doesn’t buy it. You don’t have him convinced for a second and you know you don’t when he gives you a look pressing you to be truthful. Stupid stupid stupid. Why did he have to have such a hold over you? Stupid feelings.
“It’s not stupid to me and I do worry.” It’s very few times Molly drops the act and allows his words to sound like the most genuine thing in the world. There’s no attempt of persuasion, or sweet-talking. There’s no blunt honesty but a careful one, approaching this as if you’re slipping through his fingers like sand. So that’s here you can’t stop yourself from clinging onto whatever you had. Better rip the bandaid off quickly and maybe he’ll let you down gently.
“I like you. I like you a lot. And whenever you’re flirting with strangers you come across like you do with me I just feel like I’m nothing more than a stranger to you.” Molly takes in your words and his expression remains gentle to the point where you can’t gleam anything but that off it. There’s no response like you expected. No surprise or discontent. You’d hoped he wouldn’t have laughed at you and at least he didn’t but you don’t know if you’re happier with the gentle smile he offers you as it literally doesn’t steer you in any direction. It just leaves you waiting.
Mollymauk’s not surprised by your words. He had suspected for a while but it’s not his place to assume. Sure when the attraction is only physical and never intended to be something of the longer term, it’s easy and fun to mess around with but you weren’t just physically attracted nor was this the short term kind of thing when it came to your feelings as these develop over time, not in a brief moment. So he dared not assume. It’s risky territory for him as he’s had few lasting long term relationships, even less so the ones build on genuine mutual feelings. He’s in no way uncomfortable with your feelings, or his own for that matter but he’s more careful because he’s pretty sure he’d have more success navigating a journey across thin ice, or a death drop below.
“Just say something. Do anything. Please. I can’t bear the silence.” You beg as Molly realises he might have zoned out a little longer than he intended to but when it takes him even longer to shake himself out of it you let your knees drop and making him lose his balance and fall upon your legs. That’s enough to snap him out of it.
“Very funny, love.” He deadpans as he sits back up again, releasing your legs allowing you to do the same and hug your knees leaning your cheek on top of it. Anticipation is clear within your eyes as he hasn’t given you any reaction to your confession just yet.
“Do anything you said?” The unreadable expression returns but his fingers slip beneath your face and gently lift it up. You await his next move not daring to hope where this is going and not moving beyond where Molly guided you to. He looks you in the eyes searching for any hesitation or move to back away but when you don’t offer him one beyond the anticipation he leans in pressing his lips to yours.
“You could never be a stranger. And I don’t know what I’ve done to lead you to believe so but take my word when I tell you I promise you I’ll spend every day of my life reminding you you’ll never be a stranger to me.” Molly’s words hit home and you know he’s someone who lives in the moment but you also know this is real and his words are genuine.
“Now if that means, you want me to stop flirting with barkeeps, and merchants to get some hefty discounts I will, for your sake.” He grins pecking your lips once more
“I’m pretty sure the others will kill me if you do. So best not?” You smile. Molly chuckles. Strangely, that’s all you needed to hear. Maybe your jealousy wasn’t stemmed from the tiefling’s blatant flirting with everyone and everything because you’ve always known Molly to be a flirt, even long before your feelings for him developed. It was just your own insecurities and doubts getting in your way and those were severely discredited by Molly’s words; ‘you’ll never be a stranger to me.’
“Best not then. That barkeep is a handsome one. Could be fun, darling?” Molly taps his chin as if considering and you slap his shoulder. You know he’s just teasing you so when he grabs the hand that hit at him you grab the pillow near your legs and smack him with it. Before you can swing a second time, the two of you giggling like idiots, Molly grabs the pillow throwing it behind you at the head of the bed and uses your held hand to pull you into a deep kiss.
The door swings open and in comes Beauregard, her backpack slung over her shoulder, staff in hand and just groans loudly at the kissing pair on one of the beds. She rolls her eyes disgruntled.
“Fjord! We’re gonna be roommates! Don’t fight me on this!” Beau shouts as she slams the door closed and goes over to a different room to drop her things. Fuck, she needs another drink. Despite everything she can’t fight the smile from slipping onto her lips. She’d known it was a long time coming but you finally having gotten over yourselves and having found some happiness brought her that smile to her face. Not like she’d ever admit it. And now she’s just gotten another thing to tease Molly about. She can already feel the comebacks and witty remarks form in her mind. Prepare yourself Tealeaf.
#critical role x reader#critrole x reader#mighty nein x reader#mollymauk x reader#critical role#mighty nein
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New In Town (part five) - Kaz Brekker
Request: nope
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader
Summary: Kaz finds out who has been stealing from him
Warnings: language, mentions of fighting/violence but no blood
Word count: 1.8K
A/N: he is hereeee hehe
PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART
TAG LIST (all grishaverse fics): @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15@dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha@story-scribbler@romanoffstarkovs@daliareads@meiitanoia @itsnotquimey@sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy @brekker-zenik @just-deka @graceknxwlson @the-very-tired-mess@whymyparentscheckmyphone@aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1
TAG LIST (Kaz Brekker): @mufnasa @Janesofia7 @stairscortana @parker-natasha @illicitghosts @brick-by-brick553
TAG LIST (New In Town): @calums-betch
add yourself to my tag lists here
After stealing a necklace and a crate full of jewellery, you developed a taste for sneaking around behind the Dregs' backs. This is not at all like your job back in Ravka, but you're getting the hang of it. A part of you prefers stealing for yourself over taking jobs from others.
At least this way, you get to be the one to make decisions. You get to decide wether or not to go through with a job, who you steal from and who gets hurt.
Back in Ravka, there had been a number of jobs that went wrong, and it mostly resulted into you fighting for your life. You won, but your opponent often wasn't so lucky. You'd hurt more people than you intended, but at least you got paid.
In Ketterdam, you had yet to fight someone to the death. You tried to avoid it. You stayed in the shadows, at a distance of the Barrel and its gangs.
As the weeks went by, you didn't have a lot of trouble. You listened in on Kaz' meetings with the others, and successfully stole four items they also had their eyes on. They still hadn't figured out it was you, and you took pride in that.
You occasionally ran into Jesper in the streets, but judging by the way he spoke to you, he still thought of you as a nice girl who was a bartender, and now worked at a cafe.
Only you didn't work at a cafe. But you trusted Jesper not to look further into it. You had the feeling he trusted you.
Given that you really like Jesper, you sometimes feel bad for sneaking around behind his back. But to see their confused faces when you outsmarted them again, was priceless.
And you didn't take all of it, anyway. You only sabotaged the jobs you wanted. Some jobs required more than one person, so you couldn't interfere with those. And you didn't want to take everything from them, just enough for you.
You got better at climbing buildings and jumping from roof to roof. You taught yourself how to pick a lock after you watched Kaz do it from a distance. It took you a few tries, but eventually, you got it right.
After spending so much time in Ketterdam, you started to feel at home. You didn't really have a lot of friends besides the people that lived in the same building as you.
Sometimes you wanted to tell Jesper all of it when you saw him in the streets. But you had quickly changed your mind when you saw them caught in a fight with a rival gang, and you saw they all knew how to fight. You didn't think they'd be too happy to find out you had been stealing from them.
So Ketterdam was nice, but also kind of lonely. In Ravka, you had a few friends. They didn't know what you did for a living, but they didn't seem to care. Everyone kept secrets.
You thought no one knew of your life in Ravka, so you were surprised when you heard a new name whispered on the streets of Ketterdam.
It was a name you hadn't heard in a long time. In Ravka, there had been whispers of a thief that worked so well, no one knew who they were. The Ravkans claimed the thief moved so swiftly, they became one with the shadows.
Without even knowing they were talking about you, one of your friends had once excitedly whispered to you about the so called shadow thief.
Though you hated the name, you were also a bit flattered they even gave you one. It meant you did your job good. And it also meant they hadn't discovered your identity yet.
You figured the people of Ketterdam had no way of finding out you are the thief they talk about. After all, the name was spoken for the first time weeks after you arrived. No one would be able to tell it was you.
You're walking down the streets, on your way back to your apartment. When you first got to the city, you didn't dare walk through the Barrel. But now that you've been there for a while and know the streets pretty well, you decide to take a shortcut.
Even if some drunk gang member would approach you, you had your weapons. As well as the escape routes you could take. All you had to do was climb up a building with a fire escape, and you'd be able to get away.
It's dark outside, but it doesn't scare you. You're listening to the sounds around you because even though you're familiar with the streets, it's still the Barrel. And you're still a girl walking home alone.
Your hand is on your knife that's hidden away in your coat pocket. It's only a little further to your apartment. Suddenly you get an uneasy feeling in your stomach and listen carefully for any sounds you might hear.
The most important lesson you learned was to trust your instincts. And right now, they are telling you you're being followed. You keep walking, pretending you haven't noticed them.
When you walk around a corner, you pull your knife out of your pocket. But before you can turn around and push the knife against their throat, something hard hits you behind your knees, knocking you to the ground.
You groan as you fall to the floor but are up again in seconds. It's dark, and you can't see who your opponent is. You dodge a second swing of a long object, and dart forward, ready to punch your attacker.
They raise their weapon to swing at you again, but you are quick to grab it and give it a hard pull, yanking it from their hand.
It catches them off guard. They stumble and you notice the way they clutch one of their legs. You raise the weapon - which you realise is a cane - and glare at your attacker.
'Give me a reason and I'll fucking crush your skull with your own cane.' you say. 'And I'm warning you, don't fucking test my patience.'
To your surprise, they chuckle lightly at your words.
'You won't do that. Because you won't get paid for that. No bodies if there is no payment.' says a raspy voice.
'What the fuck are you talking about?' you say.
'I'm talking about what you used to do for a living in Ravka, shadow thief.' he says. 'Mostly stealing, but sometimes things didn't go the way you wanted. If someone died, you demanded extra payment. Collateral damage.'
'I don't know what you're talking about.' you say, hoping you sound confident. 'If you're after my money you can piss off because I don't have anything on me and I don't intent on inviting you into my home. So get lost.'
You can see he wants to say something. You toss the cane toward him, it hits him in the stomach and he doubles over, gasping for breath.
'I wonder who you are without that cane to swing at people's knees, Brekker.' you say.
It didn't take long for you to figure out who it was. Only one person in Ketterdam walked around with such a recognisable cane. Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the one who had been planning all of your jobs for you.
'So you know who I am.' he says.
'Everyone in Ketterdam does.' you say.
'But not everyone in Ketterdam knows who you are.' says Kaz. 'You did quite a good job at keeping your identity hidden. Jesper tells me you work at a cafe, but every time I walk by, you're not there.'
You narrow your eyes at him. 'What do you want?' you say.
'I want you to know I know who you are, I see you. I know of all the jobs you did back in Ravka, I know your reputation. Now I am the only one who knows you are the shadow thief people whisper about. Imagine what I could do with that information.' says Kaz.
You're silent as you listen to him. Was he really going to threaten you?
'I could sell that information to the highest bidder. I'm sure there are people in Ravka who lost a lot because of you. They'd be happy to know who you are.' says Kaz.
'Be my guest.' you say. 'I can handle it. If all you wanted to do was to threaten me, I think I'll go now.'
'One more thing.' says Kaz. 'Why do my jobs for me? And don't deny it, I know it's you.'
You shrug. 'It's easy.' you say honestly. 'You plan it out, you do the hard work, all I have to do is make sure I arrive before you do.'
'But now I know it's you, I can take precautions against you.' says Kaz.
'Can you, though?' you say with a mischievous smile. 'You don't know how I get the information.'
You step closer to him, still smiling. 'I look forward to seeing what kind of precautions you're going to take. We'll see if they can really stop me, Brekker.' you say.
You step back again. 'Next time, if you want to talk, just knock on my front door. I'm sure it's easy for you to follow me to my apartment. I'll have fresh coffee ready for you and we can talk like civilised human beings.' you say and you turn around and start to walk away.
'Except for we're not civilised human beings, shadow thief.' you hear Kaz say as you walk away.
You smile to yourself as you keep on walking. You didn't know what Kaz thought he could do to stop you. If you are right, he didn't know how you got the information on his jobs.
He'd have to be patient, like you. You didn't know just how much he knows about you. He knows of your past, he knows you steal from him, maybe he'd guessed at your skills.
You'd have to be careful. He'd try to make sure you won't do his jobs for him anymore. And you have the feeling he knows very well how to play dirty.
But two can play that game.
A/N:
If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules
Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist.
Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading!
Much love,
Marit
#new in town#kaz brekker#shadow and bone#grishaverse#Kaz Brekker x reader#Kaz Brekker fanfic#Kaz Brekker fanfics#Kaz Brekker fanfiction#Kaz Brekker fic#Kaz Brekker fics#shadow and bone fics#shadow and bone fanfics#shadow and bone fanfic#shadow and bone fic#shadow and bone fanfiction
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❝𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞❞ ─ 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨
hey, it's not like you ever tried to stay . .
❥ content ; gn reader, angst, dark themes, yandere themes, toxic relationship
❥ warnings ; sxlf hxrm & mxtilation, swearing, verbal abuse, manipulation, slight nxdity lol
❥ synopsis ; all you wanted was his attention. and by the gods, you were going to get his attention by any means.
❥ a/n ; first mello fic (: i've been wanting to write something dark for a while and ig i finally got the opportunity lol. i thought i got out of my death note stage but i'm back, so please don't be afraid to send requests or ask to be added to my nonexistent taglist! alsoo while this oneshot does include s/h, i am in no way glorifying or romanticizing it!!! but i do tend to write angsty and dark fics. again, this is a work of fiction and i don't intend for anyone to take this too seriously and let this influence them.
The loud crash of a glass echoed throughout the room as a vase went flying through the air and collided with the wall, just a few feet from where you were standing.
You didn't flinch. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. Didn't react. You were used to Mello's fits of rage by now, months into your relationship. If you could even call it that, at this point.
You knew Mello wouldn't dare lay a finger on you; if he did, he'd cut off his own hands and have live with the guilt forever, knowing he brought you harm. Which is why you didn't react.
However, he didn't seem to have a problem when it was only verbal.
"I don't fucking get you!" Mello spat harshly and continued to rant, "Why did you think that was okay?! Did you once consider how I felt?! I was worried sick that some asshole hurt you but you come back a day later and tell me you were at some boy's house!"
You only scoff, leaning against the wall in a relaxed manner, eyeing the remaining shards of the vase carefully. Just like Mello, you were incredibly stubborn.
"Answer me, Y/N!"
"Okay, Mihael," you state cooly, using Mello's legal name and causing him to listen more intently. "First of all, I don't know what you expected me to do when you invited your weird mafia 'friends' over while I was trying to sleep. Second, he's not 'some boy', his name is Y/F/N and he's one of a few people I can trust. I don't know what you think of me."
"You could've gotten a hotel room, that's what!"
"With what money, Mihael?! What fucking money? You forced me to quit my job and then practically lock me up in this hell hole that I can't even call 'home' anymore!"
Mello huffed. "Pfft, you should be grateful. I've kept you safe all this time, away from the dangers of the world. You're alive because of me. Me. You're mine."
"Yeah, some fucking life, right?"
"I provide for you, I protect you from the monsters out in the world, but you still decide to go and whore yourself out to your little 'friend'," Mello sneered, his sharp voice dripping with venom.
You stared at your boyfriend in disbelief. All words, all arguments and nasty retorts expiring on your lips.
"I.." You start, but laugh pitifully. "I don't even know what you're saying. I don't know if you even know what you're saying. Honestly, Mello, just when I thought you couldn't surprise me anymore, you start spewing complete and utter bullshit out of your mouth." Mello's silence only egged you on. "It's no wonder Near always came in first place." Aaand there it was. You snapped.
If looks could kill, you'd be dead. Mello's eyes widened in anger at the mention of Near, reminding him of his inferiority.
In a completely different situation where he wasn't on the receiving end, Mello would be smiling proudly, listening to your clever retorts and comebacks. You've always been as stubborn and hot headed as him, and he really liked that about you, fuck that "opposites attract" bullshit. (I ACC LOVE THAT TROPE LOL IM SORRY) However, considering you were both extremely toxic people, it was far from entertaining when it was you who got in a fight with the other.
You didn't stop, though. If he was gonna play that who-could-be-more-toxic game, you weren't gonna back down.
"I don't know if it was the explosion or you've really always been that stupid, but you need to get the fuck over yourself and stop throwing tantrums when you find out that I have a life, too, and I have friends. Friends who actually give a damn."
You stare down each other in silence, a heavy tension hanging in the air. Still, after a few moments, Mello didn't make any effort to speak or react, other than walking out of the room.
Days, weeks went by. Mello hasn't spoken a word to you. Hasn't even looked in your direction when you passed each other or walked into the same room. You didn't exist anymore, and it worried you.
Mello was never like this. Within a few days or even hours after an argument, you would easily kiss and make up. Had you gone too far this time?
Besides the fact that Mello was intentionally giving you the cold shoulder, he was also busy with work, and was out of the house from midnight to early afternoon. During that time, you would stay at home and carry out your every day mundane tasks and chores.
Even now, you didn't seek comfort in your family or friends. You were either busy keeping the house clean, sleeping, or entertaining yourself on social media. But it was all a sad attempt to keep your mind occupied on anything else other than Mello.
And one day like any other where Mello was out doing whatever the hell mafia dudes do, you snapped. You decided you were sick of the silent treatment.
If Mello was gonna play dirty and ignore you, you were gonna give him something to react to.
Mello came home some time after sunset. Kicking off his boots as he walked in the front door, he immediately knew something was off. It was quiet - too quiet. Despite the fact that you were practically taking some sort of forced break after the argument, you acted the same. You went about your day and didn't bother acting shy or timid around Mello. You still hummed earworm pop songs to yourself or put on a podcast to fill the tense air. But now there was nothing. Just Mello, the walls, and the silence.
Mello cautiously walked around the house and searched for any signs of you, fearing the worst.
As he frantically looked around, he stopped abruptly at the sight of blood smeared onto the hallway wall.
Blood.
His heartbeat began to thump loudly in his ears.
Then he noticed more blood. And more, smeared up on the wall, and eventually a trail picked up. He followed the bloody trail as it lead him through the hallway and stopped outside of your shared bedroom that he hasn't been inside for weeks.
Mello shakily inhaled and braced himself for whatever gruesome scene he would walk into.
He reached for the doorknob, twisting it and letting himself in.
Soon as he did, he ceased all motions, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to process what his eyes were showing him.
There, you sat on the bed, nothing on but your underwear and one of Mello's shirts. On one hand, you loosely held a pocket knife. On the other, you had your sleeve rolled up, your inner arm facing Mello's direction.
Your doe eyes looked up from the floor and met Mello's panicked ones. He was finally looking at you again. Despite the gorey setting and the stinging in your arm, you smiled. You were real to him again.
Multiple cuts oozed blood and trickled down your arm, onto your now dirtied clothes and the once satin white sheets below you.
As Mello got closer, silently freaking out, he could now see that these weren't just cuts - you carved out words. Sentences, onto your arm.
Among the many bloody 'I love you's' and pleads, one word stuck out to him.
It was his name.
He felt sick. Distraught. Guilty. Afraid.
"Y/N," he choked out shakily.
His gaze trailed up your arm, your body, and fixated onto your seemingly innocent face. Your face was rested and gentle, your eyes still staring up at him with adoration and desperation. If it weren't for the blood that painted your whole body and surroundings red, he would have found comfort in your presence.
"I did this.." You ran your fingers along your fresh wounds, not once wincing or drawing back in discomfort. "For you."
You continued, a sick sweetness in your voice. "Jus' wanted to show you how much I love you.. You've been leaving me so lonely, Mello." You frowned. "It was only a matter of time before I had to do something. And now you're finally here.. And you won't leave me again."
#mello x reader#mello x y/n#mihael keehl#death note fanfiction#death note#death note mello#death note near#death note angst#angst prompts#angst dialogue prompts#angst#sh tw#tw s/h#yandere mello#mello yandere#death note yandere#death note oneshot#death note imagines#rattyoakenbitch
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part one | oblivion
oblivion [noun. the state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening around one]
pairing: kamo noritoshi/f!reader
summary: your relationship with noritoshi was like a game of cat and mouse; no matter how hard you tried to escape from him, he would always find his way back to you.
wordcount: 3.9k
content/warnings: friends to enemies to lovers, language, noritoshi is kind of a dick but i promise it gets better so please don’t lose faith in him, we’re not strictly following the manga timeline bc while i am reading it, i do have a goldfish brain, lowercase intended
a/n: hello, here’s the first installment of my sanguine series! it’s the prequel of this drabble (nsfw) i wrote the other week while i was working on the outline of the fic. it’s a little slow burn because i wanted to spend some more time exploring their relationship and the groundwork for it, so yeah. i’ll try to update it regularly, but since i’ve only planned five parts for sanguine, it might take a while bc i want to take my time with it. if you want to stay updated with the series, i’ll post the masterlist to it shortly! i do hope you enjoy it though :) and stay safe, everybody! [tagging @sukirichi the sukuna to my yuuji, who just gets spammed when i start rambling about my aus but always screams with me (´• ω •`)]
masterlist - next
"y/n!" you look up to see miwa storming towards you, thrusting a book in your direction. "could you- could you please give this to noritoshi? i borrowed this book from him like a week ago and if i don't return this anytime soon, i think he's gonna kill me."
scowling at her, you look at the book in disdain. you wanted to avoid crossing paths with noritoshi as much as possible and miwa was well aware that you didn't like hi-
"please," miwa pleaded again, taking your hands and placing the book in it. "i'm really scared of him. he always looks like he's going to shoot me soon. even todo is pretty nice if you don't interrupt his takada-chan time!"
you sighed in annoyance, you just couldn't say no. ever since coming to the kyoto metropolitan curse tech, miwa and you had been pretty close because you strongly disliked the other students. most of them were arrogant and stuck-up, thinking they were better than the other; the two that belonged to the three clans were even worse. on your first day here you'd promptly gotten into a fight with mai, disliking how haughty she was and trying to prove everyone that she was better than them. much to your chagrin, the fight ended in a tie.
"fine, but you owe me some mango," miwa's face lit up in relief and she gave you a thumbs up before dashing to her room, most likely to escape noritoshi's wrath. you inspected the book. was it even worth returning it? maybe you could just throw it in the trash. if noritoshi ever found out, he'd kill miwa first and then you. you let out another sigh before making your way towards the training grounds. he most likely was outside to practice, either with one of the guys or alone. as you were nearing the training grounds, you could already hear the sound of arrows whistling and the dull thuds of them hitting the target. it was hard to spot him through all the trees; you weren't entirely sure where he was. your ears perked up when you heard him release another arrow until you realized that it was heading your way. this bastard. fortunately, you were able to slash the arrow clean in the middle, angrily pointing your sword in his direction. you still couldn't see him anywhere.
"you fucking idiot! you could've killed me," you snarled, stomping deeper into the forest. an amused laugh echoed through the trees.
"you're acting like i can't control my arrows. it's not my fault you let your guard down," noritoshi retorted smugly, lowering his bow as he saw you approaching. you were fuming, hurling the book at him. how dare he? you watched with satisfaction as it hit him square in the chest - who was caught off guard now, huh? he deserved it anyways.
"miwa asked me to return your book," you curtly explained and turned back around to leave but apparently, noritoshi had other plans. instead of saying anything else, he just followed you which unsettled you even more.
"stop following me."
"who said i was following you? i'm just going back to the dorms. i'm sorry you can't handle me being near you."
you whirled around, sword pointing dangerously close to his neck. he smirked at you triumphantly, it was just too easy to get a rouse out of you. "another word and i'll cut you, seriously. you're pissing me off," you gritted your teeth, hating that you always fell for his stupid games. he knew you all to well, what made you angry, what made you happy, what motivated you. once upon a time, you'd thought the same about him; until he changed so rapidly, so unlike your expectations. you were worlds apart and yet you'd reserved an ounce of hope that he wouldn't turn out to be as arrogant as the clan heads. swift as the wind, noritoshi grabbed your wrist, dragging it upwards and towards him until he could lean down to you. your heartbeat sped up - holy shit why was he so close to you - and you froze in shock.
"i'd like to see you try, princess," he whispered in your ear, the grip on your wrist tightening. "you wouldn't dare to."
the first time you met noritoshi, he was sitting outside in the garden with his mum. both seemed to have a good time. noritoshi's hair was tousled from the soft summer breeze and he had a soft smile on his face, happily munching away on the snacks that were displayed on the table. while he looked friendly enough, you were wary of meeting and talking to him because you felt kind of queasy around the kamo family. you couldn’t quite place a finger on the feeling, the older members of the family intimidating you to no end. much to your dismay, you felt like you had to be watchful - your parents worked for the kamo family, so naturally the apartment you lived in was close to the estate. you avoided any run ins with the adults, they weren’t exactly friendly to you. noritoshi’s mum had befriended your mum and they spent a lot of time together when possible. and yet you’d never met noritoshi before, seeing how busy he was with his various classes.
the fit that you threw, not wanting to tag along with your mum, was long forgotten when you’d spotted the jar of cookies on the table. before your mum could react, you pulled your hand away from hers and quickly ran towards it. “hello miss!” you greeted enthusiastically, your eyes shining at the sight of the sweets. “my name is y/n! i’m here with my mum and i uhm… could i have some of the cookies? please?” when your mum finally caught up to you, she scolded you quietly and greeted the other two, taking a seat beside noritoshi’s mum. you pouted, immediately climbing on her lap as you refused to sit next to the boy. his mum handed you a cookie which you happily took and thanked her politely. noritoshi was curiously eyeing you; it wasn’t often that he saw other children around his age and he didn’t have any friends to play with. his everyday life revolved around reading books, studying, taking archery classes and sometimes spending time with his mum. noritoshi barely even knew what fun was - he’d only ever felt at peace when he was around his mum.
“y/n, sweetie, why don’t you go and play with noritoshi?” your mum prompted but you immediately shook your head, hiding your face in her chest. she simply laughed and shook her head, brushing your hair back softly. “come on, noritoshi is really nice. you can be his friend one day, right? didn’t i tell you that friends are important?”
you frowned. then huffed. when she worded it like this, there was no way you could refuse. the cartoon that you religiously watched featured a group of friends that went on adventures and helped each other out. you’d told your mum that you wanted to be like that too! begrudgingly, you slid off her lap and trudged towards noritoshi who looked at you with big eyes. you held your hand out, waiting for him to shake it. “my name is y/n. uhm… nice to meet you,” you shyly whispered, eyes darting away from him.
it took a while until noritoshi reacted, shaking your hand gently and answering: “hello y/n, i’m noritoshi.”
much to your surprise, noritoshi was actually fun to be around with. he showed you his collection of books, the bow that he was practicing with and you often played the card game you’d received for your birthday together. he was smart and witty, often explaining you things that he’d read in a book but he was also attentive when he listened to you ramble about the other kids in school or when you told him about the cartoon that you were watching. for you, noritoshi was becoming your best friend - for noritoshi, you were his first friend. he cherished you and how unabashedly true to yourself you were. spending time with you was something he looked forward to; you always made him laugh and you didn’t care whether he lived up to the kamo family name or not. to you, he was simply noritoshi. you were like a fresh breeze of air in his life.
noritoshi didn't quite understand why the elders were always so hard on him, so strict and unrelenting. they expected only the best results from him and didn't show any understanding when he exhausted. he didn't enjoy practice anymore, the lessons becoming a chore and burden on his mind. but whenever he saw your face light up at his newly acquired skills, he thought it was worth the trouble. you came to visit him everyday after school, never skipping a day. sometimes he questioned why you weren't visiting your friends from school but you shook your head, poking his chest indignantly. "you're my best friend, 'toshi. of course i'd want to spend more time with you." noritoshi was glad you always chose him, without fail.
even though your parents had always warned you to be careful around noritoshi because his family was strict and didn't like outside influences distracting the heir, you never really strayed from his side. noritoshi didn't have any other friends, who would keep him company or listen to his troubles then? you didn't understand why your parents were suddenly going back on their word. they'd always told you that family and friends were important. you couldn't pinpoint your feelings for him - but your parents saw it. it was obvious; the stars in your eyes when you looked at him, the slight blush on your cheeks when he complimented you and how happy you were when you got to spend time with him. the more time you spent with him, the more they were worried for you.
"'toshi!" you yelled in excitement as you ran towards him, waving wildly. he dropped his bow and turned to you, a soft smile gracing his lips as he opened his arms to hug you. you squeezed him tightly. two weeks you hadn't seen him due to a school trip after which you got sick and weren't able to leave the house. you'd missed him a lot and you were excited to show him the souvenirs you brought him.
"look, i bought you an omamori!" you handed him the small object, then pointing on your bag to show him the one you'd bought for yourself. "i got myself a matching one too! my teacher said it wards off evil spirits and brings you luck." noritoshi's smile was bright, so bright. he was happy you thought of him and were always kind to him. your eyes widened as he leaned in to kiss your cheek before thanking you. the two of you were blushing, neither saying a word but not minding what had just happened.
the day noritoshi's mother left the estate was the day you were slowly starting to lose him. noritoshi grew more forlorn and didn't seem to easily find joy in anything anymore. the departure left a deep, deep gap in his heart. it had shocked him deep to the core when she left him. him. why couldn't she stay? why did she leave him when she was the only person who protected him, loved him? she did say that she was hindering his growth but who was she to decide that? he didn't want to become stronger, didn't want to protect other people like she'd told him to. he wanted to stay with her. "'toshi? 'toshi!" a concerned voice broke through his trance, pulling him back into reality. "i asked you a question! you weren't even listening to me."
you were pouting at him, tugging at his sleeve impatiently. noritoshi apologized, patting your head to soothe your temper. "what do you want to do in the future? mum said it's important to work towards your dreams!" you asked him curiously, grasping his hand to hold it. the gesture filled him with indescribable warmth, drawing him in like a moth to the flames. "my mum said i have a special power, i can heal people! i want to become a doctor in the future, so i can help everyone that got hurt," you explained to him so earnestly that he felt bad for the lie he was about to tell. noritoshi didn't have big dreams or ambitions just yet. he didn't even know what would be suitable to him - he was strictly following orders, never allowed to think for himself.
but when he looked at you, he only had one wish. "i think… i think i want to help people, protect them. especially those that i love."
with each year passing, you noticed that noritoshi was putting more and more distance between the two of you. at first you'd brushed it off as the stress of his training and number of classes he was attending. but as you spent less and less time together, the weight of the situation didn’t escape you. he was easily irritable, cold and arrogant, often rude towards employees of the kamo estate. every now and then when you’d scold him for being an asshole, he’d simply scoff at you and haughtily ask you how it was any of your business. you sighed, tossing and turning in your bed as you thought about how much noritoshi had changed. it kept you up at night, just thinking about how he wasn’t your ‘toshi anymore. you didn’t know this person. ‘toshi was always gentle and kind, he tended to overthink many things and sometimes he was a little bit of a crybaby but you still loved him regardless. you sneaked out of your room, finally mustering up enough courage to ask your mother for advice. the thought of her discovering your blooming crush on noritoshi was scaring you. your parents were wary around the kamos despite working from them - even more so ever since noritoshi’s mother left and the elders had free reign over her son.
“noritoshi! noritoshi, stop walking away from me! hey, i’m talking to you!” you yelled frustrated as you were trying to keep up with him. noritoshi was crossing the garden in long strides, it was nearly impossible to stop him as you couldn’t catch up to him. you lunged forward, getting hold of his sleeve and tugged him back harshly. noritoshi yanked his arm out of your grip, glaring at you annoyed.
“what do you want from me? i have better things to do than to quibble with you,” he hissed irritated. you couldn’t believe him, he had the nerve to dismiss you like this when he was in the wrong?
“you know exactly what i want from you! you can’t just go around and talk to people like you did before just because they’re not from a reputable family! noritoshi, you’re not any better than them just because your last name is kamo.”
as much as noritoshi scared you, you stood your ground. you knew he didn’t take you serious, not with the amused look he gave you. in the past month or two, noritoshi was suddenly hit by a growth spurt - you barely reached his shoulder now and he took advantage of that to mock you, often treating you like an armrest. he pat your head condescendingly, pouting at you in fake regret. “aw, did i hurt your feelings? did i make itty bitty little y/n sad?” he mocked you, before abruptly grabbing your cheeks to make you look at him. “i don’t care what you think of me, cry all you want. i strongly suggest you hold that sharp tongue of yours if you know what’s good. know your place.”
tears filled your eyes; noritoshi had never talked to you this way. what has gotten into him? your heart broke in pieces, unable to take the pain any longer. you were no longer his equal but below him, much like everyone else.
“mum?” you cautiously knocked at the door of her study, waiting for her response. your mother was most likely still awake and dealing with paperwork like she usually did. upon hearing the affirmative noise she made, you flitted inside, closing the door behind you so your father didn’t catch any wind of this. it was already embarrassing enough and you were sure your mother could offer you better advice. you gingerly took a seat on the armchair, grabbing a pillow and hugging it close to your body. how were you going to approach this? hey mum, i have a crush on noritoshi and he’s weird to me now and i don’t know why? uh yeah mum, i caught feelings for the guy you warned me about and now i look like a fool crawling up to you like this?
“it’s about noritoshi, isn’t it?” your mother interrupted your stream of thought, spinning her swivel chair towards you.
“huh? oh no it isn’t, why would it be? i have-”
“y/n.”
“ugh okay fine, maybe it is about him,” you sighed defeated, of course she would look right through you. she always seemed to know what you were thinking, even when you hadn’t confided in her before. “but promise me you won’t judge me!” the look in your mother’s eyes told you that she was going to judge you regardless but you knew she meant well - she simply wanted the best for you.
“i- i just don’t understand why he’s been such a pain in the ass lately. and he’s been treating everyone like dirt too, including me! mum, he’s becoming someone else and i… i don’t know what to do,” you sniffled inconsolably, wiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. she wasn’t supposed to see you getting emotional. “he’s always busy and when we do get to see each other, he doesn’t want to spend time with me. what if he doesn’t like me anymore? and i don’t like how he’s treating you! it’s the same issue with the elders, they don’t know any human decency at all!”
your mother motioned you to scoot over a little and sat next to you, wrapping her arms around you and patting your back to console you. while she meant well, it accomplished the opposite - you broke down in tears, unable to stop your sobs. “i just want my ‘toshi back,” you whimpered upset, burying your face in the pillow to muffle the sound of you crying. “i know you didn’t like that i became good friends with him but i couldn’t help it and i just really like him and- you weren’t supposed to find that out.”
“sweetheart, i know you love noritoshi,” she handed you a tissue. “you let a lot more on than you were aware of; dad and me always knew you were in love with him.” as if on cue, your sobbing stopped and you just looked at her in disbelief. she knew. she knew. you wanted the earth to swallow you whole. “i think it was always pretty obvious, to be honest. you always looked at him as if he was your entire world and no matter what happened, you were always by his side. i know it’s hard to accept when a dear friend is changing but sometimes you just have to, right? both of you are still growing, there’s no way of telling how your personalities change.”
“but i don’t want him to change like this,” you protested stubbornly, glaring at her. she was talking about it as if it was a matter of simply discarding a bad apple in the trash. it wasn’t easy and it made you anxious. you grew up together, shared secrets and memories. he was the person you’d always looked up to.
“y/n.” your mother sounded stern but you didn’t back down, not yet. “is it really worth it? if a person is changing so rapidly and you’re not getting through to them, you’ll have to let it go. there’s only so much you can do. people grow apart sometimes, it’s only natural. you have to let go of them, temporarily, so you both can heal and grow. y/n, i know you’re being stubborn about this but you’ll have to let him figure things out on his own. fate has curious ways to bring people back together.”
when the time came, noritoshi left to attend the kyoto metropolitan curse tech school without telling you a word. you were disappointed, apparently you weren’t worth saying goodbye to. whatever his reason was, it must’ve been pretty important. important enough to forget the promise that you’d always stay in contact. you wondered whether he'd change again, for the better maybe? maybe you would reconcile when you could finally attend the school as well and train together. you were excited to show him your sword skills, having received your family's heirloom, an elegant steel blue sword. though your skills probably weren’t up to par with the other students, you still wanted to show them off, show him what you’d learned in the year that you spent apart.
noritoshi had changed but not for the better. holy shit, did he get on your nerves. the first time he'd practiced with you, you realized that he had mutated into an insufferable know-it-all. he would give you backhanded compliments or make snide remarks about your posture, how you were supposed to hold your sword, how inefficient your fighting style was. sometimes you wished you could just beat him for once and have him shut up. there was no denying though, noritoshi was way too strong and you had a long way to go. judging from the reactions of the others, barely anyone had beat him either.
and just like that, your feelings for him were buried. you’d taken your mother’s advice to heart, keeping conversations and interactions with him to a minimum but somehow noritoshi always found his way to you. he was everywhere and a quarrel was inevitable. noritoshi got under your skin and he knew how to push your buttons. why he chose to pick on you was beyond your comprehension; he didn’t pay much attention to the other students nor was he particularly liked by them. just how much was he going to get on everyone else’s nerves? out of all the second years, todo aoi was the most amicable; you had the (dis)pleasure to run into him on your first day and for some reason, he took a liking to you. while he was loud and boisterous, mostly doing whatever he wanted, you couldn’t deny that he was a good friend. even though he didn’t care about anyone as much as he cared about takada-chan. at one point, he’d looked at you in sympathy when he caught you staring at noritoshi, patting your shoulder (too forceful): “i’m sorry, y/n, i’m so sorry.”
you still didn’t know what he meant by that.
ps.: todo knows and he’s kinda judging you for your taste in men
#jujutsu kaisen#kamo noritoshi#noritoshi#noritoshi x reader#kamo noritoshi x reader#noritoshi kamo#noritoshi kamo x reader#noritoshi x you#kamo noritoshi x you#noritoshi kamo x you#noritoshi kamo imagines#kamo noritoshi imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagines#noritoshi imagines#fic: sanguine#writing#my writing has gotten SO incredibly rusty i literally only know how to write academic papers anymore bc that's all i do in my everyday life#it makes me speechless to see all the love on my previous sukuna fic and i'm so glad people are enjoying it#hey if you're lurking in the tags thank you for reading i really appreciate it! pls stay hydrated
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kinktober - day sixteen
osamu miya - hungry
kinktober faq
kinktober prompt list
NSFW warning featuring: service top osamu, oral sex (reader receiving), fingerng, motivated by jealousy, he wants u bad, no aftercare
other tags: osamu is very jealous, reader is a Player, their relationship is confusing and is never openly explained lol, months of osamu pining over u, mentions of reader using other men to make osamu jealous, potential ooc osamu but i dont care
fem reader
word count: 3377
p.s thank u @closetedweeb01 for beta reading the beginning and helping me get this story in the right direction it was so helpful<3! and thank u @natsuonii for helping me basically the entire time i was writing this fic up until like ten minutes ago LMAO ily thank u sm sophie muah thank u <33 and also to everyone else who reached out to help or gave advice :) much appreciate
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“Look up.”
Osamu did, and you grinned, laughed in disbelief as you stood over him.
“What?” he asked, squinting eyes dark with intent to stay looking at yours until you asked otherwise.
“You listened.”
“I already told you,” he started, and even as your hand moved to hold his face, even as you squatted down to straddle his lap, he didn’t break that eye contact and his baritone voice didn’t falter, “I would do anything you told me to do.”
“Anything?”
Osamu knew that you were testing him, but this was a game he was always ready to play. “Anything.”
“Why’s that?” you asked, only teasing - you already knew his answer. “You got so jealous at the bar earlier, watching me dancing with Hinata. You know… you don’t own me, Osamu.”
His only response, “I’m better than him,” and all you could do was laugh.
The look in his eyes was all too familiar - seeing it was almost comforting. That hunger he only had for you was burning hotter than ever, now mixed with competitive passion and a need to win.
“Shoyo’s pretty fit,” you hummed, a playfulness laced through your voice in a way that Osamu didn’t like. “I think he’d be a good time… I’m still waiting for him to text back.”
With his hands on your hips Osaumu pulled you closer, slotting right between your legs, the center of you perfectly aligned with the peak in his jeans.
“I’m better,” he repeated, and still, his voice was strong. As if you couldn’t break him no matter how hard you tried.
But this teasing would only be fun for so long, and although Osamu could take it for as long as you’d give it, you were growing tired. You hadn’t given him so much as a crumb and still he was waiting for you to hand him a full meal - somehow his interest in you had only grown despite your snide teasing and better-than attitude.
You were sure he would have lost interest by now, and yet he still acts as if the two of you hadn’t been in this exact position dozens of times before. Your plans to make him jealous never fall through even though everything he’s jealous of isn’t his, but he never fails to remind you that he’s the one you run back to.
And he does do everything you say. He listens and complies and obeys and yet he’s never seemed as submissive as moments ago when two words had him looking up at you like a begging dog.
You thrived on it.
“Kiss me.”
At any moment he could turn this around on you. He could leave you wanting, needing, begging; he could deny what you were asking of him and make you feel how he’s felt. And yet, he doesn’t. You told him to kiss you and so he kissed you, and he wouldn’t stop until you pulled away and gave him more instruction.
It wasn’t like him to be so behaved, to exist by someone else’s word, but, really, he was only doing what he wanted to do; the gratification he felt from doing as you told him was unmatched, and the look of pride in your eyes despite any taunting words you’d say was addictive.
And he’d take any chance he would get to show you how much he thrived on it.
He was being eager and you liked it. His hips were rocking up against you in minutes; both of his hands were holding your face and keeping you in place so he could kiss you as long as he wanted.
Maybe you were letting him get away with too much, and maybe this was going to go much faster than you ever intended, but he was finally showing you just how deeply hungry for you he was - and maybe you couldn’t get enough of it.
You matched his rocking with a thrust of your own and you felt him shiver, and you pulled out of the kiss to take this chance to tease.
“Too much?”
“Not enough,” he groaned, chasing your lips for more. You only gave him a short taste before pushing him back again, and he hit the back of the couch with a thud.
“God, you’re so fucking desperate,” you taunted. “Already this hard from one kiss?”
“All for you,” he admitted, throwing his head back as he wondered why the hell he let himself do this with you. How many times had he watched you dancing and flirting with another man all while your eyes were on him? How many nights had you left him with nothing to do but fuck his fist while trying to remember the way your lips tasted? How much longer before he’d finally have enough?
What was it about you that he was so addicted to, anyway? What did you give him that everybody else lacked? Maybe it was just the chase of it all - maybe when he finally got a piece of you he’d be able to get past the wave of emotions you send over him any time you were around.
But he knew he’d never get enough. Even if all of you was only his, he wouldn’t be satisfied.
“What do you want, Osamu?”
“Whatever you’ll give me,” he answered without looking up.
You eyed the expanse of his neck before latching your lips onto his skin, pulling a reaction out of him that had you shivering this time.
“That’s not a good enough answer,” you hummed. “Tell me what you want.”
Like he’d come to the end of his rope and had no other option but to blurt out the truth, he said, “I want to fuck you,” and he had to swallow another moan before he could think of continuing. “Wanna stuff you with my cock and fuck my cum into you and show you how much fucking better I am than anyone else who’s ever tried to make you feel as good as I can - fuck, stop moving your hips like that, baby.”
While he was mumbling descriptions of daydreams, sounding like he was making a wish to some god or star above, you were left wondering how far you would take this. You always knew you’d eventually come to this point, and yet the answer isn’t as clear as you once thought it would be.
What happens when you give Osamu what he wants? Your fun with him would end, this cat and mouse game would be over. He’d get a taste of what he’s needed and maybe he would realize you weren’t all that. And he’d be off chasing someone else while you were left looking behind, waiting to see his needy eyes on you.
Still - perfect moments like these don’t come often. And you were done toying with him, weren’t you?
“You think you can make me feel good, ‘Samu?”
“I know I could.”
“Better than Shoyo could?”
Every time you think you’re pushing just the right buttons, Osamu’s patience shows out. He should have thrown you onto the couch and had his way with you by now - you’d have no complaints if that’s how it panned out - but he held back. Even though his eyes said everything he was thinking, he stopped himself. He waited for your exact word before making any decision.
He was avoiding your eyes and you didn’t like it. “Look at me, Osamu.” He did.
“You’re gonna stop saying anyone else’s name, sweetheart - it’s not as cute as you think it is.”
Your next two words, “Make me,” were punctuated with a dramatic shift in your position - he pushed your body onto the couch and came towering over you, just like you’d been expecting him to do.
“That’s all I needed to hear - I will.”
You watched in awe as the man finally seemed to crack; he pulled his shirt off and the mask he seemed to be wearing all this time came off with it. His pristine control was thrown across the room, and all that was left was a hungry man tearing your clothes off like he was preparing his last meal.
“Are you finally gonna have your way with me?”
He grinned and said, “No,” and for a second you naively thought he was giving you a taste of your own medicine. He’d never dream of doing that, though. “I’m gonna take you how you deserve, baby - gonna show you how to feel good.” He kissed you without permission this time, too sweet to be so short, and followed it with the biting whisper, “I’m yours to use - tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Use me.”
You’ve always had this much control over him, but it was never this apparent. And you had never used it for much benefit, because you really never knew how tight of a hold you had on him. You could tighten his collar until he couldn’t breathe and he’d let you; he would take any pain you inflicted as long as you kissed him better afterwards.
And he was begging you to tell him what to do, waiting patiently and staying eager, and only now were you realizing how badly you needed to be served by no one but him.
Maybe that realization is what had your act of confidence dissolving; maybe that’s why you could hardly wrap your tongue around your next words, “Your mouth, Osamu,” because just the thought of getting what you wanted had your stomach fluttering and your underwear soaked. You’d spent so long pushing him to the edge that you ended up right there with him, teasing yourself more than you ever teased him.
He asked, “Where?” with a daring flirting edge posed to be a genuine question, like he was trying to see how commanding you would be.
You pushed his shoulders down and said, “You know where,” and as he finally moved lower down your body, you stripped yourself of the clothes he’d left behind.
He watched in desired awe as your pretty bra fell to the floor; seeing you bare underneath him for the first time felt like a bigger test of temptation than any time you had ever teased him on purpose.
But he knew where you wanted him, even if you wouldn’t say it, even if it’s not where he wanted to be yet, even if he couldn’t take his eyes off of your neck or chest or stomach - there was no need for him to do anything you didn’t ask for.
You’d already kicked your pants off and all Osamu had to do was take off your underwear, which he noted weren’t a match to your bra, and he’d add that to his list of endearing things about you. It was something so normal that nobody else would notice while he’d remember forever, something he’d tease you for later, something he’d stroke himself to the thought of.
It’d go to the back of his mind for now, though, as he pulled your underwear down your shaking legs while you watched him.
And he was convinced he was going to wake up any second now, so he rushed to make himself comfortable between your legs before his alarm clock woke him up - because there was no way this could actually, finally be happening. “God, you’re a dream.”
“Hurry.”
He could’ve listened, but he had to treat you right - this was only worth doing if he took his time.
“Just relax,” he told you as he left kisses along your hip, “can’t rush these things.”
“I would have came three times by now, if Sho - shit!”
You were cut off with a rough spank to your thigh as well as Osamu’s tongue just barely tracing your clit, and it was enough to have your words stick to your throat.
“What was that?” His voice sounded as dark as the look in his eyes, and it showed you that you’d finally found a button you shouldn’t press.
“Go on - finish that sentence. I dare you to.” And he smacked your thigh again, just to prove his point. “You think anybody else would take their time with you? Would anyone else give this pretty pussy the attention it deserves, baby? Or do you know I’m the only one?”
You had to swallow any excess pride just so you could voice a shaky reply, “I don’t know - show me.”
Instead of voicing a response, he knew the only thing he had to do was what you asked. But he was sure if you pulled another stunt like that he’d end up leaving bruises with how brutally he’d show his ownership of you - that was one thing he wouldn’t let you get away with.
But in that moment all he had to do was hook his arms around your thighs, hold you against his face, and devour you like he’d been dying to do for months now. So that’s what he did, and he watched as you threw your head back, listened as you moaned out for him, held you down as you rocked your hips against his face - and that was it. He felt like he’d just gotten a ticket into heaven.
“That’s it,” he hummed, and you hardly noticed he’d pulled his mouth off of you because he didn’t break for long. He left with his teeth barely grazing your clit before he let himself speak again, and you had to reach down and grab his hand just to keep yourself grounded. “Just come undone for me, baby.”
He groaned loud into you when you got a hold of his hair, and you felt those vibrations from his throat to your toes.
And he needed you; he had his name on your lips and your legs around his head and his tongue inside you and still, still it wasn’t enough. He wanted more even though he had it all, and he wanted to push you further even though you were right where he needed you to be.
But you kept pulling his hair and squeezing his hand and moaning his name - you were begging for him in every way you could and Osamu could hardly keep going without completely devouring you.
You seemed to be getting close and he was filled to the brim with pride, but he had to stop to see just how much control you had slipped into his grasp.
“Look down.”
You did; for the first time, to Osamu’s recollection, you listened to him.
You opened your eyes and saw him looking up at you, with the same look in his eyes as when you gave him that instruction, messy hair and flushed cheeks making him look as fucked out as you felt.
Finally, suddenly, eagerly, he gave you more than just his mouth, his fingers exploring until he sunk two of them into you, and your head fell back.
“Look at me,” he demanded, the sharpness of his voice matching the bite he left inside your thigh. “Don’t look away, or you’ll finish yourself off. And you’ll be moaning my name when you do, I’m sure.”
“Osamu, please.”
“Just like that,” and he was laughing at you, grinning and happy to be the one teasing. “What is it, sweetheart? You wanna cum for me?”
You pulled his hair and forced his mouth onto you, “Please, ‘Samu,” and he let you take the reins again because, despite how much he loved toying with you, all he really wanted to do was give you what you wanted. “Fuck, just let me cum.”
The curl of his fingers pumping into you and the warmth of his tongue lapping your clit and the obscene moans coming from his throat, with the look in his eyes and how tightly he was holding your hand and the way he was listening to your every command - it was all too much. It was all the realization of what you’d been missing, teasing, and leaving; it was something you didn’t know if you’d have again but you sure as hell couldn’t go without.
He could see the way your body reacted to every single touch, and maybe that’s why he was giving it to you exactly how you liked. And he wanted to cause a scene; you were moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear and still not loud enough for Osamu - he was pleasuring you like he had an audience watching him and he’d be damned if he disappointed.
He was made for this, you were sure - he was right where he belonged and both of you were loving it.
“Come on, baby,” he taunted, “wanna see you cum for me, sweetheart, wanna feel this tight cunt cumming around my fingers - I know you’re holding back, just let it go.”
He tried pulling his hand from yours but you only tightened your hold and pulled his mouth back down to your clit rather than giving him his free hand or a moment to breathe. So he squeezed your hand, endeared at the feeling of you holding on to him.
Osamu felt it as you started to do as he told you and let go - he watched as your world started to amplify as you chased for more of him, begged to reach that peak, focused on getting there. Your eyes squeezed shut and Osamu just didn’t have it in him to punish you for it, especially when you looked so pretty being absolutely unraveled.
Teasing words were caught in the back of his throat but he couldn’t stop tasting you long enough to say them. Your thighs were shaking and your moans were screams and he could hardly keep pumping his fingers with how tight your walls were pulsing around them and that was it - Osamu was close to cumming himself just at the sight of you cumming for him, and the ache in his pants was more apparent now than ever before.
But he couldn’t care about his own pleasure, not while he was so absolutely focused on you and yours. You were the only thing on his mind and he could only hope you were thinking about solely him.
“So fucking hot,” he said, not even thinking anymore as he kept you cumming with his fingers. “My good fucking girl - that was all for me, wasn’t it? Look at you, making a fucking mess, all for me. All mine, aren’t you?”
He couldn’t stop, he wanted to draw this out and take you there again, he wanted to push you farther. He didn’t want you to catch your breath or take a break, he only wanted you to keep moaning, begging, cumming for him.
But, as he was ready to add a third finger inside of you, “Too much, ‘Samu.”
“Not enough,” he reminded you. “You’ve got one more for me, sweetheart, try for me.”
But you pulled on his hand you’d been holding, trying to pull him up to you, and he had to give in. After pulling his fingers out of you, careful and slow and too attentive to the way your body seemed to resist, he let you tug him up.
You clinged to him, your legs coming to wrap around his waist and your hand holding his jaw to bring him down for a kiss.
“You’re a mess,” you said with a laugh upon noticing his glossy lips and soaked chin, all caused by you.
“It’s your fault,” he said. “I’ll go clean up - you need anything?”
You shook your head, “Stay,” and hooked your legs together across his back, as if to lock him into place.
“Look who the clingy one is now,” he remarked, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it.
He didn’t know what all of it meant. He didn’t know how you had gone from dancing with another man mere hours ago to clinging onto Osamu like he was the only thing keeping you sane, but it didn’t matter. He had you and you were his, at least for the night, and he’d gotten a more than good enough taste of you. That was all he needed to know it’d never get better than you - and he’d keep waiting for more.
#KINKRUARY!!!!!!#sorry about the ending i decided i dont care enough to write another 300 words to wrap it up nicely. im over it#kinktober 2020#osamu miya x reader#osamu x reader#miya osamu#miya osamu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader#not family friendly
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"I love you, and you love me. Isn't that enough?"+ Best Friend's Brother with Osamu
If this does well, I might do a part 2 but I seriously don't think this is good. It's written a little to awkward for my liking.
Event masterlist here.
Stolen glances were your favorites, getting to be unapologetically in love with someone and your secret unknown to the world. In silence,you could appreciate him, the color of his eyes, the tip of his nose, how his eyes crinkled in delight when he laughed. Delicious moments where you could enjoy him.
By stolen glances was the only way in which you could reach Osamu like the idiot in love you were, because you knew that if his brother ever found out how hard your heart beats for him, not only would he be scandalized, you also believed that he would also feel betrayed. After all, Atsumu had vocalized plenty of times his disdain at the thought of you and his brother together.
You were a good friend, you really were, and while you couldn't stop from falling har for his brother- yet you admit that you loved every second of your feelings- at least you did stop yourself from acting on them, as much as it was possible. Of course you tried, though it was hard when his own brother looked at you with a glint so fond on his eyes, when his warm hands seemed to find yours with no problem when you were close, but never reaching for them, just enough to brush yours and give you a taste of what they feel like.
You continue to watch Osamu form the distance, in your seat next to his brother while the younger twin laughs at something Suna said, and his laugh could be at his friend's words, but his eyes are on you. He turns his head to the game they're playing, the sofa small with two big bodies like theirs seating in them.
"Say, Y/n" Atsumu calls for your attention, looking at the sealing deep in thoughts. "Would you be interested in me setting you up with someone"
The spit in your mouth makes you choke with his words.
How were you supposed to react to the sudden proposition, and what were you supposed to say? Should you tell him that the only guy you're interested in at the moment was his twin? The brother that he prohibited you from dating since day one?
You're eyes travel again to Osamu, who isn't looking at you, but with the way his eyebrows furrow, you are aware of him listening, and your poor heart can't handle the pressure. By the sight of it, he doesn't seem to happy about the conversation Atsumu is intending to have, and neither are you but it's not like you can't tell him that, so with a sigh, one you hope sounds tired and annoyed enough to convince him, you kindly reject the direction he wants to take.
"No, thanks" cool, calm, you remember, stay cool and calm. Yet, Atsumu can't read the room, or chooses not to do it, as always, and continues despites it.
"C'mon, you can't be single forever. I know this guy, he saw a photo of you and he's interested in meeting you" he moves to face you, a self-satisfied smile on it, as if he is about to make something incredible by setting you up– he's not, in fact, you think he's really stupid in this moment– and his brows nudged towards you like an invitation to say yes.
By now, you're too afraid to turn to steal a glance at his brother, being it for a fear of how pissed you think he might be, or because of the fear of the blond catching you, either way, your eyes stayed focused on your idiotic best friend.
"I don't care, you're lame and so must be your friend" with a hand pushing him away, you're about to end the conversation "Anyways, instead of focusing on my love life, you should start one yourself" you huffed, ending the talk.
Atsumu pouts, and while he's not pleased with your crude answer, he listens, leaving you alone. Although that doesn't mean he's dropping his irritating antics, finding another prey, his brother.
"How about you, 'Samu? There's this girl I already rejected, but I guess she'll be interested on a date with you. Obviously, I am the handsome twin, but you're not that bad yourself"
It's not your place, it really isn't, to say no, to tell your friend to fuck off and leave Osamu alone because you want to be the only one for him. But you seriously want to do it, shout that he can't set up his brother with a random girl because you feel like he already belongs to you. And you know it's selfish, that's why you stay silent, with an invisible scowl and gritted teeth and fists clenching a little too hard.
For the nth time that night, Osamu's eyes land on your figure, meeting your's in the process. The difference is, that this time, he's look is both cold and hot. Cold as if they're telling you how tired they are, and hot as if to tell you he's ready to make you step up your game, almost challenging you.
"Yeah, of course, just know that once she's met me, she'll have clear who's the better twin. Won't even remember a thing 'bout you" Osamu's smirk is teasing, and everyone could say it was towards his brothers, but you knew better. It was dedicated to you.
A pang of something hurts in your chest, maybe of jealousy, and maybe it's the pain of hearing him giving up on whatever you're supposed to have. It's wrong, you're feeling the guilt of those sensations, because you're the one that has pushed him off, denying every single advice that could have been done, and still, you want him just for you.
It isn't until hours later, when Suna has left and Atsumu has fallen asleep when you talk for the first time this day, aside from the greetings.
You stand in the kitchen, a glass of water in your hand, trying to calm how agitated your insides are. At this point, the twins have left a disaster of your mind and heart, coming like a hurricane of emotions that hits you hard enough to hurt. A part of you wants to scream, declare your undying love for him, for his deep voice and calming irises, declare that he's yours and yours only– you remind yourself that he isn't– but the other side of you is too afraid, afraid of hurting the one person that has been next to you through everything and anything, the one who has picked up the broken pieces and helped you come back as one stronger version. You don't want to hurt or hurt anyone, which it's so damn hard in your position, but you know that you'd never forgive your heart if you let down Atsumu, if you even dare to disappoint him.
Osamu's entrance pulls you out of your trance, successfully taking your attention towards him, although he appears to ignore your presence, walking past you without a word. Painful, that's too painful for you.
"Osamu…" you trailed off, trying to make you as small as you can.
"Save it. I'm not in the mood to talk to you" he's cold, and you hate it, he's never been like this to you, but you can't blame him either. While he's cold, there's just the tiniest hint of anger on his voice, making you more unsettled.
"I'm sorry! I don't want to hurt you, you know that, is just that–" he interrupts you. He's pissed, his eyes show it, his chest puffs and shoulders tense, a sight you never want to see again.
"It doesn't matter, it's not like we're anything, anyway" his words cut deep inside you, damn they do.
You wished you could unhear the pain behind what he says, but it's right there, and it shows his vulnerability.
"That's not true… you know how I feel about you"
"Then let's do something about it! I love you and you love me, isn't that enough?!" The raw emotion touches your insides in the most painful but delicious way. You want to hold him close and comfort him, yet you don't think you have the right to do it. "So what if my brother doesn't approve it?! Are we supposed to forget about how we feel? Am I supposed to ignore how much I love when our hands meet? How much do I adore the way you look at me?! Or pretend that I'm burning to kiss you?! I'm sorry, Y/n but I don't care anymore about anything Atsumu has to say at this point."
He comes your way with big steps, and you coward a little at the sudden movement, and then he kisses you. A kiss is full of irritation, annoyance, love, care, all the bottled up feelings showing in a kiss that says more than words.
"I'm not hiding up how I feel anymore, so this is me officially asking you to be mine. You can reject me and we'll forget this happened, or you can accept and we'll face Atsumu, together".
Your answer is obvious, coming in the form of another kiss, one that's more tender, sweet and short.
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu#haikyuu osamu#osamu x reader#osamu imagine#osamu angst#osamu fluff#miya osamu#miya osamu x reader
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matryoshka doll
— Momo is a modern day princess, so it makes sense as to why every single person she’s asked if they wanted to have sex reject her because they felt unworthy. But she’s a girl with carnal needs and if that means having anonymous sex is the only way to have them met, so be it.
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pairing: yaoyorozu momo x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, smut, stuck in a wall, anal fisting (giving), fingering, marking, degradation, daddy kink!reader, princess!momo, praise, pwp, cursing, service top!reader, phat ass!momo
word count: 3,333
a/n: i stayed up until 4 am reading bkdk angst fanfic and im so, so tired...... momo has a phat ass that is full of stretch marks and cellulite and I drool at the thought of it. no I dont take any feedback on that.
kinktober day 9 main kink: anonymous sex | kinktober masterlist
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Momo has a secret.
A deep, dark, twisted secret.
It wasn’t so much that it was horrible, humiliating, or even a nuisance for all of humanity, but it definitely was a secret she was keen on keeping until she was six feet under.
Why was that?
Oh, well, you see, it involved one of the most taboo topics in the world: sex.
Yaoyorozu Momo lived a sheltered, elite life. At the tender age of four, she had managed to create an object by replicating a Matryoshka doll's exact molecular structure. She didn’t need to assume that most individuals couldn't compose the doll's molecular structure regardless of their intellect or education. Yet, with a determined gaze, her person and mind no much older than four years old, she succeeded in producing a single, lone, beautiful Matryoshka doll.
But, because of her natural-born intelligence and near-prodigious level thinking, the wealth that her parents held led her to a life where something such as a peck on the cheek was considered scandalous.
Kissing on the lips was considered a "marriage only" rule, and sex wasn’t even a word she knew.
Middle school for Yaoyorozu Momo consisted of her and her private tutors within her home. Her education was created just for her, and she had evening outings with her similar circles to ensure she had an appropriate social life. All in all, Momo didn’t know what sex was until she was sixteen, sitting in the common area of the dorm room with all her female friends who casually brought up the idea of what they could potentially be into, of who they would. Momo would quote: fuck, marry, or kill of three randomly generated boys within the class.
Of course, Momo’s eyes fluttered at the word fuck, having already known it as a curse word, and only as such as Bakugou always seemed to be yelling it. She had wrongfully spluttered when Mina had wiggled her eyebrows at Uraraka on why, oh why she had only chosen to ‘fuck Midoriya’ and not marry him. To Momo, who also at the time, was aware of her current blossoming feelings towards the smart but somewhat flutter tongued classmate of theirs, had been rather confused at the results Uraraka gave too.
“Kill… uh, Iida-kun,” Urakaka fidgeted, blushing harder under the intense stares of Mina and Hagakure (who had a mean glare despite not being able to see her). “Fuck Deku-kun, marry Todoroki-kun!”
Momo had assumed she would wish to marry her at the time crush, not choose the option to curse him out!
“Uraraka-san, you wish to cuss out Midoriya-san?” Momo had asked, saving the naturally rosy girl from their pink-skinned and invisible friend. “Why is that?”
“Hold on?” Jirou interrupted immediately, Momo’s undoubtedly closest friend rose from her slouched position next to her, her hand placed on her shoulder. “What was that?!”
“Well, isn’t the, ahem, please excuse my vulgar words, ‘fuck,’ option meaning to curse someone out? As Bakugou-san does to many people when he uses that word?” Momo had asked so innocently, so purely that the girls all almost felt horrible for popping the innocent bubble the modern-day princess was in -- keyword: almost.
For the first time in her life, Yaoyorozu Momo was not the most knowledgable in a subject; her cheeks stained red with embarrassing heat when Tsuyu took charge of explaining the alternate definition to what ‘fuck’ meant.
“You mean babies don’t come in storks?!” she had cried uncontrollably that night. She was utterly overwhelmed by this new level of information that would send her in a spiral of the need to acquire further details for the sake of education and, well, yes, the science of fucking.
From the moment she was sixteen until she was twenty, Momo’s knowledge of sex went from being the lowest in the class, to as it naturally should have been, the most knowledgable person on it. She knew of things, the different branches of sex, where to experience certain types of kinks, and theoretically, where the human body's best parts to touch when having sex. So, the moment she had turned of consenting legal age to have sex, Momo would be lying if she said she wasn’t ready to have sex.
But there was something in her way, something that not even years of studying could help her with, or could change the circumstances of which she found herself in. It seemed that though her friends enjoyed her sudden new-found genius towards the art and science behind sex, no one thought of her as a… sexual being.
“I c-can’t have sex with you!” Jirou had flushed red, her eyes scattering to every edge of the room, refusing to look at the wealthy heiress who had asked her best friend over during their last week of high school to do the deed. “You’re the modern-day royalty: Yaoyorozu Momo! I’m not… qualified enough!”
Momo frowned, “Oh?”
.
..
.
“Sex?” Todoroki had echoed, his eyes alarming wide despite his composed, neutral expression. Momo nodded her head, ignoring the small wisp of fire that emitted from his hair. “Oh, well, I don’t think I can do that for you, Yaoyorozu. It’s nothing against you, but I don’t think I’d like to have meaningless sex with you for the first time.”
Momo winced, “Oh, okay.”
“That sounded a lot meaner then intended, I apologize.”
.
..
…
..
.
And that’s how it seemed to go.
Aoyama hadn’t been interested in having sex at all with Momo. Mina said she was severely unworthy. Tsuyu simply rejected her because their relationship wasn’t one that had possibilities of sexual encounters. Iida said it would be irresponsible of him to take something of value of hers. Uraraka cried about how inferior scum like her had no right.
Ojiro apologized, having been in a relationship at the moment and wouldn’t. Kaminari said him sexually touching Momo would give the world every right to skin him where he lay. Kirishima had blushed brighter than his hair and stammered; he couldn’t without a proper relationship between the two of them. Kouda had run off crying. Sato had mumbled about how he enjoyed setting tea and pastries together but couldn’t imagine putting his tea in and on her pastry, or some weird allusion like that.
Shoji had bowed his head in apologies, saying she would regret sleeping with him. Sero had run away, crashing into a glass door explaining he wasn’t good enough. Tokoyami stated they weren’t a fated pair and rejected her kindly -- she thinks. Hagakure was in a relationship and politely declined her. Bakugou scoffed and told her to look elsewhere. Midoriya had stammered and suggested that he wasn’t the best option. Mineta just was never an option for her.
She had asked eighteen people who had all told her they would help her with anything, and the only thing that kept being thrown back into her face regarding something that she didn’t see to be anything that special was that she was royalty in their eyes. It was fine at first; honestly, it was! Momo had nodded her head, merely retreating to her home and creating an arrangement of sex toys most suited for her. And for a while, it had been enough.
But like the Matryoshka dolls, she was so fond of making, so good at making, she had several layers underneath that shouldn’t be ignored. And her sexual pleasures and gains had been a neglected part of her for too long.
From having the longest, thickest dildo she could make for herself, up her cunt, to the vibrator and fuck machines she should create (because she was not allowed anywhere near a sex shop), she had been blissful. Each orgasm ripping through her pleasantly, causing her sweaty chest to arch off her bed, her legs slamming closed as it burst from inside of her, causing her to bit harshly on her fist just in case. But just as even playing with your favorite game day after day, feeling alone, lonely, and unwanted, Momo found that even her toys weren’t enough.
She needed more.
No one would fuck her because of her status, because of her last name and the wealth that she brought, so she decided that if she was to do this, to gain the human touch she ever so desired and lusted over, she was going to have to erase her identity.
She had found a little place in the back alleys of Tokyo. They were hiring anyone who dared to visit and the only requirement to join was that you were willing to be fucked. Momo had shown up for the interview, face obscured by a hoodie she wore and was hired the moment she walked in with her spandex shorts hugging her tiny waist and fat ass. She had always seen places like this within her porn research but had never actually assumed fuck ho(l)es existed.
She certainly didn’t expect to be put in a wall where only her ass and cunt hanging out and the cold, wet tip of a sharpie marker to write against her clear virgin skin: FREE HOLE TO FUCK. VIRGIN LITTLE WHORE. She could feel that written on her skin, but she was unaware of the words that surrounded her placement on the wall: “put a tally and a review for every pump of cum you shove in me!”
There was no need for a picture by her whole because the people who frequented this place had no desires of that, and so, Momo found peace even as the starting alarm blared in her ear that customers were finally being let it.
To sum up the experience her first night at this joint, the first time experiencing a hot, living, throbbing cock in both her cunt and ass, Momo would have to blush. Her eyes shifting from yours onto the floor as she smiled. A chuckle on her face as she thought back to the end of that four hour fuck feast and remembered that there were nearly eighty-three tally marks on her bruised and blistered ass, of how her cum and all that cum continued to seep from her clenching holes for two days afterward… she loved it.
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You needed to blow off some steam.
Having just been entirely, horribly dumped by your ex and having precisely zero side pieces on the side to fuck, you went out of your way to secure a quick, easy fuck to get your mind off of things. There was no reason for you to simply not join Tinder and ask the first swipe to come over and fuck, but you didn’t want to see a face. You didn’t even want to know their face. As a matter of fact, you weren’t even so much as interested in your own orgasm at the moment than just making someone else cum. So when a pretty woman handed your glowering face a flyer as you were storming around the streets of Tokyo hoping for a sign from god, you almost cried at what the flyer informed you of.
A local... hole in the wall filled with glory holes and exposed asses, cunts, and cocks alike.
Was it destiny?
You sure believed so as you found yourself tailing to the obscure address, praying for the establishment to be open and, for the most part, empty because you had no plans on performing shit in front of watching eyes. Handing a thousand yen over to the admissions lady as your fee to the use of their prized cunts, cocks, and asses, you shoved the black ticket into your pocket and brisked in.
As you entered the back room, the tension in you back and pressure on your chest seemed to melt away immediately at the scent of sex, dried cum, and sweat. It was an altogether horrid stench, to be quite honest, but right now, it sent fire to your core, your lips licking at the walls and corners willed with awaiting to be attended to people. Twisted pleasure coursed through your veins as you walked around, your eyes taking note of the graffitied words around the individual holes, taking note of the black sharpie words on bruised and battered skin, and some cunts still dripping with someone else’s cum.
‘Loose cunt’ one person had.
‘Hasn’t been broken in yet,’ said another.
‘Loves it when you ‘accidentally’ fuck their ass,’ scrawled on another.
You couldn’t help but smile at the twisted humor, moving until finally, you saw one that exposed ass first to the world, eight tallies marked on her skin, and oh, the words painted on her smooth, perfect skin and the surrounding walls pulled you in.
‘Tightest fucking pussy.’
‘100/10 recommended, been back multiple times for more.’
‘Slip your fist up her ass, she LOVES it.’
‘Favorite fucking whore here.’
‘Would fuck again.’
‘Slut likes it rough and mean.’
‘Please fuck me!!!!’
You watched as the shiny slick of her cum slowly seep from her spread cheeks, not quite dripping, but definitely wet with her arousal. Something was calling you to her, your feet stumbling nearly tipsy with this outworld lust and drunkenness as you stopped behind her slapped pink ass. And without much need of thought to wonder where to stop, your hands found themselves grabbing her thick, supple ass and you moaned at the warmth emitting from her skin, of how her skin was so soft, so moveable, so bouncy. It was larger than your hands, your fingernails running against the cellulite, and stretch marks on her ass that made you want to kiss and run your tongue against even more. You couldn’t hear her, you couldn’t possibly know if she had liked the way your fingers dug into her ass, but her ass bounced, teetering with your grip as you could imagine a soft, juicy moan.
“I wonder if you can hear me?” you asked, most likely to no one, fingers spreading her ass, spanking the used whorish skin of hers so that small, tight, clenching pink asshole was on full display for you. “If you sit there for all these hours and listen to men fuck you with their ugly moaning and pathetic growling.”
Her ass rolled in your hands, and you smiled, taking that as a sign that yes, she heard everything, even you. Raising your hand to the bottle of lube, you saturated your fingers with the cold, transparent liquid, turning your fingers down over her still exposed, flush hole. You watched as the lube dripped down, splattering messily around her tight, rimmed muscle, watching her clench and unclench the muscle in alarming beauty.
“I must apologize, princess,” you sighed, looking at the names scrawled on the walls that this cunt and ass seemed to be most responsive to, and number one on that list was princess. “Your daddy isn’t feeling particularly rough today, so I hope you’ll behave with my softer movements.”
You're not quite sure where the reference to yourself as daddy had come from, but the way the ass muscles clenched between the lone hand that held her cheek made it worth it.
Your lube coated finger edged the pert opening of her ass, feeling the way the already used muscle expanded for your finger if a little stubbornly.
“Relax, princess, daddy sees you like being fisted, so I’m going to make sure you feel good.
You pressed your finger in until the knuckle disappeared beneath the muscle, your grin growing into a hazy, lustful gaze when you felt her ass bounce. This moan vibrated all the way to her anal cavity as you wasted no time in adding a second finger. Her ass was tight, the ribbed walls of the cavity bumping and gliding against your moving fingers, and you grinned when she loudly moaned. You didn’t need to be an expert to see that she had never been fucked softly or thoroughly before. She must have been used to the terrible, animalistic rage that the men here possessed when fucking these people behind the walls. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume that she lost her virginity here.
Your fingers curled, stroking and persuading her body to ripple and twitch with your commanding movements, and another finger added in, and another finger added in. Soon enough, you had four fingers in, all save your thumb. The stretch of her ass around your nearly formed ass was incredible; she took you so well, not a sound of agonizing pain was heard through the wall, although you swore you heard sounds of elation. The damn slut did enjoy it.
Your thumb pressed to her cunt, rubbing the slick folds of her pussy, softly fucking the outermost part of her inner walls, much against her approval if the way he ass bounced heavily in need had anything to say about it.
“Ah, does the princess, not like this?” you asked, your hand that was currently not four fingers into her ass stretching out her cheeks even further as finally you retracted your hand out, made a fist, and sunk back in. Now there was a scream. But the way that it shot curling ravenous fires into your core, you knew it wasn’t one of horror or pain. No. It was one of absolute, slutty pleasure. You moaned at the sound, your arm beginning to thrust into her ass slowly, intentionally, and with burning passion and desire to hear her wail again. She sounded so pretty, sounded so slutty.
Your now free hand moved to her cunt, your mind trying to stimulate her more, trying to ignore the way her ass was hot and deliciously tight around your forearm as your pinched and rolled at her clit. Your thumb stayed on her clit, but your fingers stretched to enter her clenching cunt that seemed to be in synch with her ass. YOu moaned in content at the feeling of her inner walls suctioning against your intruding finger, and you laughed upon feeling your moving arm within her ass against her cunt. And that beautiful, pitchy whine resonated deeply again, and your mind melted.
Your fingers and fist doubled in speed, the growing sharp moans through the walls fueling you to move faster, to be rougher, to make her see stars. No wonder why no one fucked her with love here, you thought as leaned down, teeth tearing against her ass cheek that read: mark me, please. Who could stay composed when this fucking slut was this goddamn loud.
“Such a good fucking princess, so slutty, so nice for your daddy,” you grunted, against her skin, your hips snapping at air as the heat and wetness in your pants made you uncomfortable -- the need for more biting through your clothes. “You like my fist up your ass? You like everyone’s fist up your ass, don’t do? Doesn’t fucking surprise me with those stupid loud moans you make.”
Your words were hissed, your fingernails scraping against her pulsating, throbbing inner walls, and then it happened.
Her ass and her cunt clenched against your fingers and fist. And your jaw dropped as a rippling effect ran across your arm that was buried in her ass.
Was that a?
Holy fucking shit?!
“Princess, did your ass just orgasm?!”
A confirming, pathetic moan sent your mind to the moon.
Suddenly feeling as if this was too much for you, and with no way to relive yourself in this type of fuck room, you removed your hand quickly from her ass, your dominant hand grabbing the hanging sharpie on the wall and added two more tally marks on the number of times she’s cum.
You race out of there, the fire in between your legs too much to handle. Well, at least not before adding one more, important piece of information on her ass and on the wall: ‘if you fuck my ass like daddy did, maybe my ass will orgasm for you too.”
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Beach Days - Gundham Tanaka x Reader
Like every morning, the Ultimates met at the restaurant, but this morning was slightly unusual: Gundham got a note from none other than Kazuichi Soda, inviting him to meet the mechanic at the supermarket later that afternoon. Curious, Gundham made his way over, wondering what exactly did Kazuichi have in mind?
When he entered the supermarket, he wasn’t surprised to see Kazuichi standing there.
“Gundham!” Kazuichi exclaimed. “Finally, you’re here!”
“What is the meaning of this meeting, you fiend?” Gundham asked, as his hamsters peaked out from his scarf and sleeves. “Do you intend to attack the great Gundham Tanaka, Supreme Overlord of Ice?! Well, you will surely be defeated, as I am equipped with my four Dark Devas of Destruction!”
“Wh-Wha-What?! No, I’m not trying to attack you! I need your help!”
“My… help? Explain yourself at once, sinner!” boomed Gundham.
Kazuichi quickly explained that he had overheard the girls planning to go for a swim by the beach that afternoon, and he needed Gundham with him in order for it to look like a coincidence.
“Please, Gundham!” pleaded Kazuichi, “I just need to see Miss Sonia in a bikini! I’ve always loved blonde girls, this is my one shot!”
“Tch. Of course a mere mortal like you is swayed by the illusions of beauty, but I am Gundham Tanaka, bringer of true hell and chaos! I have no interest in ‘blondes’ or ‘bikinis’.”
At this, Kazuichi grinned, baring his sharp teeth. “Oh really? No interest in bikinis? Cuz, I’ve seen the way you look at Y/N, and it sure seems like you’d be interested in seeing her in one…”
A bright crimson spread across Gundham’s face, and in seconds he brought his scarf across his face. “I… wh… I, I do not understand the meaning of your words, you sinner! Y/N is a mere mortal, like yourself, and I am far too hellish to be tempted by her angelic appearance!”
Still grinning, Kazuichi replied, “If you say so! In that case, I’ll be going then, off to watch Y/N and Sonia… Man, imagine their wet, glistening bodies-”
“Silence, fiend!” interjected Gundham, blushing harder than ever. “You clearly cannot be left alone, and so I shall accompany you. Be grateful, for you are a pitiful human, in the presence of the almighty supreme overlord!”
“Whatever, Tanaka, let’s go!” exclaimed Kazuichi, and with that, they left the supermarket and made their way to the diner.
To their surprise, Fuyuhiko was already inside the diner. Gundham was acutely aware of a conversation occurring between the yakuza and the mechanic, but his mind had already drifted elsewhere, to where his thoughts always seem to drift: you.
He remembered when he first met you, on this cursed island. You had approached him, and offered a friendly handshake.
“Hi, um, I’m Y/N-”
“Silence, mortal!” he had interjected, “unless you wish to be devoured by my four Dark Devas of Destruction, I implore you to step away! For I am Gundham Tanaka, the Supreme Overlord of Ice! Remember it well, or my Dark Devas shall unleash pure pandemonium!”
“D-dark… dark devas…?” You had asked cautiously, a bit shocked by his sudden outburst. Before you knew it, a small creature had appeared on his palm.
“Behold, one of my Dark Devas, Jum-P!”
“Oh my gosh!” You squealed, “Is that a hamster?! How cute-”
“A hamster?! How dare you call my Dark Deva a… ‘hamster’!”
You had apologized quickly, then corrected yourself. “What a cute… Dark Deva..!”
He was surprised then, never before had someone acknowledged his Devas by their proper title. The sight of Jum-P had brought a smile to your face, and Gundham felt a blush creeping across his skin as he thought to himself how lovely the sight of your smile was. Immediately, he covered his face with his scarf.
“Ah, well..yes, I suppose that Jum-P is quite… ‘cute’... in this astral plane…” He cleared his throat.
“You said your name was Gundham, right? Gundham Tanaka,” you said, and the sound of his name escaping your lips was music to his ears.
“For a pitiful human such as yourself, you have a remarkable memory. Perhaps you’ve come into contact with a demon before…?” He mused, as though he were truly considering it.
“A d-demon?” you stuttered, “N-no, I’ve never come into contact with anything like that. I’m just an Ultimate [talent], after all. Yeah, that’s me, plain old Y/N L/N, the Ultimate [talent].”
“Y/N L/N,” he repeated back, “there is nothing plain about you. I, Gundham Tanaka, Ultimate Breeder and Supreme Overlord, can see it! Truly, your aura reveals all! You are no mere human, indeed.”
You laughed gently. “You’re a strange one, Tanaka. I really hope we get along.”
And with that, you left, off to greet the rest of the Ultimates on Jabberwock Island.
The pleasant memory played in his mind, as he recalled your smile and your laugh.
“Tch! Soda, you’re seriously planning to fucking ‘coincidentally’ run into the girls? You are one perverted bastard!” the yakuza exclaimed, dragging Gundham back into reality. “And you, Gundham, you’re no better!”
“I’m merely accompanying Kazuichi-” Gundham started, but he was quickly interrupted by Fuyuhiko.
“Save it, you bastard! We all know you’re here for Y/N-”
Suddenly, the door to the diner swung open, and you entered, along with Ibuki and Mikan.
“Who’s here for me?” You asked curiously, having caught the last bit of the conversation. The three males turned around to see you, standing at the entrance wearing nothing but a bikini, with Ibuki and Mikan behind you, who had both waited to change.
“Y-y/n…” Gundham muttered, before knowingly covering his blush with his scarf. Even Fuyuhiko couldn’t resist giving you a look-over: you looked damn good in a bathing suit.
“F-fuyohiko, Ka-kazuichi, a-and G-gundham?” stuttered Mikan, “W-what…. wh-what are y-you guys d-doing...here…?”
The three Ultimates were silent for a few moments, still stunned by your appearance. Irritated, Ibuki spoke up. “HELLLOOO? Earth to Kazuichi! What are you guys doing here?! Ibuki thought this was a girls-only bonding time!”
Finally, Fuyuhiko spoke up, “Fuck if I know! What, you girls own the diner or some shit? Can’t a man enjoy a meal?”
“Oh please,” you muttered. “You’re still in high school, just cause you’re a yakuza doesn’t make you a man…”
“W-What did you just say?!” exclaimed Fuyuhiko. “D-don’t fuck with me!”
“Oh, nothing!” You said quickly, earning a sly grin from Gundham.
“Ah, well,” Kazuichi began, “Gundham and I were just having a walk around the island, when we ran into Fuyuhiko at the diner, and now here you girls are! Getting ready for a swim, huh? What a great coincidence, yunno?!”
“What is this… ‘coincidence’ you speak of, mortal?” boomed Gundham. Kazuichi shot him a glare in return.
“Ah, well, I’m actually glad you guys are here! It’ll be nice to hang out with all of you,” you said sweetly. Unbeknownst to all of you, outside Hiyoko was running past with tears in her eyes.
While you all waited for the rest of the girls to show up, you walked over to Gundham.
“Hey, Tanaka!” You greeted him warmly before enveloping him into a hug. Your chest pressed against his, and it seemed as though an unhideable blush spread across his entire body.
“Y/N,” he replied coolly, trying to maintain his icy demeanor as you stepped back. “You..you shouldn’t do… *that*... it’s dangerous, for a creature like you, to come into contact with a high-level demon such as myself.” He wished you understood that an angel like you had no place around such a hellish creature like himself.
“How are the Devas?” you asked, curiously, brushing off his warnings. As if on cue, all four appeared, peeking out from his sleeves and scarf.
“Ha! As always, my Dark Devas are in excellent condition, and soon they shall unleash true terror upon this realm!”
“Ah, this is the magnificent talent of the Ultimate Breeder, and Supreme Overlord. It’s no surprise that you take excellent care of your Devas.”
The two of you talked unceremoniously, and before long the other girls arrived. Much to Kazuichi’s disappointment, Sonia had arrived in a wetsuit, but Gundham had hardly noticed her entrance. He was captivated by you, but he believed that an angel like you deserved better than a demon like him. Still, that didn’t stop his feelings for you from growing. As he stood there with you, he knew he would do anything to protect you in this killing game.
( should i do a part two? let me know! or, if you have other danganronpa requests, just ask! <3 )
EDIT: Part two is completed! Read it here :D
#gundham x reader#gundham tanaka#gundham tanaka x reader#gundham tanaka one shot#gundham tanaka imagine#kazuichi souda#kazuichi soda#sonia nevermind#fuyuhiko kuzuryuu#ibuki mioda#mikan tsumiki#souda x gundham#danganronpa#super danganronpa two#dr2 gundham#hope's peak academy#monokuma#nagito komaeda
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I hope so – c.hart
requested - yes
You were trying to look sympathetic, you swear you were trying, but you just couldn’t, Carter sat on the edge of your couch. If you were being honest, he didn’t look too torn up about his breakup either, but you knew if anything he just felt bad for hurting his now ex girlfriend. “I told you.” You finally spoke, moving from your spot at the open apartment door, it was late, a little after midnight, you’d be paying for this in the morning while you worked. “Can you not?” Carter snapped harsher than he intended too. “What do you want me to say, Carter? I have been telling you since the beginning she wasn’t going to be cut out for your lifestyle, it’s a lot to handle.” You sighed, sitting beside him on the couch, he gave you a glare before tipping his head back against the couch, his hat falling off in the process, his leg beginning to bounce as he ran a hand over his face. A very anxious tell of his. “Hey, I’m sorry, I know it’s hard.” You whispered, grabbing his hand and sandwiching it between yours. “It’s just-ugh,” he paused, looking over at you, debating on telling you this or not, part of him feeling like you would look at him differently after this. “She told me she loved me, and then I just broke up with her, I didn’t feel the same at all.” He admitted, your face falling as you thought of how heartbroken she must be right now. “You didn’t see her face, Y/N, I feel like the worlds biggest dick.” Carter mumbled, you pulled him down to rest his head on your shoulder. “You’re not though, I know it doesn’t seem like it, but telling her now is so much better than leading her on when you know the feelings aren’t going to show up.” You explained to him, smiling as he began playing with your fingers as he listened to you speak, a sign of him calming down. “I know.” He whispered in defeat, “why do you always have to be right?” He questioned, tilting his head up to meet your eyes. “Because I’m smart.” You retorted, giggling as he tried not to laugh at how seriously you said it. “You wanna stay here tonight? It’s late.” You murmured, trying to ignore the spark in your chest at how he was holding eye contact with you. “Yeah, thanks.” He kissed your cheek quickly before removing himself from you, making his way to the guest room he had stayed in so many times before. “Goodnight.” You called, forcing yourself to go back to bed as you felt a daze wash over you.
****
It wasn’t a good game for Carter, you were happy that it had happened while you were here though, knowing how he could be when he got worked up. You shifted nervously in your seat as they pulled Carter from the game, he whipped his helmet off as he skated to the bench, you tried to catch his gaze but he didn’t dare to look away from his feet. You sighed, slumping down into the hard chair, biting your lip as the rest of the game continued to go downhill, it just wasn’t their night you guessed. It didn’t make it any harder to watch as they made their way down the hall, losing by four, a nervous pit in your stomach as you instantly gathered your things and started heading for the locker rooms.
It felt like an eternity until they started piling out, Carter being the last one as he was analyzing the game in his head the whole time. “Hey.” You reached out for him, half expecting him to pull away and be stubborn, but he surprised you by instantly hugging you. “I fucked up.” He grumbled, you shook your head against his chest, pushing him away so you could see his face. “Look at me.” You demanded, not going to put up with his self pity party. “It was a bad night, it happens, you did your best. You learned from this game and the next one will only be better.” You spoke slowly, making sure he listened to every word. “Ok.” Is all he could respond with as he sighed, it was a good enough answer for now so you let it slide.
***
“Y/N? Is everything ok?” Carter’s panicked voice came over the line, he knew you were supposed to be on a date right now, someone you had known for a while through a mutual friend. “No, can you come get me?” You whimpered, embarrassed you had called him. The guy had been so sweet throughout dinner, he was nice and funny, but then he asked if you wanted to go back to his place, and the smirk on his face told you everything you needed to know. You kindly declined, not in the mood or feeling like going home with him. He got pissed and left you there, of course the one time you let a guy drive you to a date this happens. “Yeah, of course, where are you?” Carter rushed, you could hear him shuffling around his apartment, voices muffled in the background. “Oh, no, the boys are over I forgot, never mind.” You tried to back out, “who cares about them? Now tell me where you are.” He muttered a fuck off to the guys in the background who complained at his word choice. You told him the restaurant and he swore he would be there in ten minutes, easing your nerves as he assured you that he was glad you called him.
Carter hung up the phone and threatened his friends to be out of his apartment by the time he came back. They bregudgidly agreed.
True to his word, Carter was pulling up ten minutes later, you didn’t give him a chance to get out of the car, the second you saw him you were rushing to open the passenger door. You stared straight ahead, ashamed to look at him, the tears now drying to your face. “Y/N.” Carter whispered with a small sigh, he reached over grabbing your hand, urging you to look at him. You looked over and gave him a teary smile, completely done with tonight, and how idiotic men could be. “He didn’t hurt you, right?” He had to ask, giving you a once over, panic in his chest as he thought of how badly he’d want to punch that guy. “No, he didn’t.” You whispered, slumping in the seat after you put your seatbelt on. “Did you want to stay at mine tonight?” He questioned, seeing the tiredness floating in your eyes, it wasn’t even that late, but you were mentally exhausted. “Can I?” You responded sheepishly, Carter smiled at your sleepy figure, only then realizing you still had a grip on his hand. “Of course.” He whispered, not daring to move his hand despite how difficult it made it for him to put the car back into drive. You didn’t notice as you shut your eyes, telling yourself it would only be for a moment, but you fell asleep nearly instantly.
Carter couldn’t really feel his arm at this point, as your head had slumped down against it, but he didn’t care. This was the time where he realized his feelings for you had definitely surpassed platonic. He carefully removed his arm as he was now parked in the garage for his apartment, you didn’t make a peep as your head slowly fell against the seat, he let out a breathy chuckled as he moved around the car to get you. He opened the door, reaching for your seatbelt when you finally stirred. “Hey sleepy.” He whispered, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, you landed on his face and smiled softly as the memories came back. “Hi.” You mumbled, voice rough with sleep, he moved away to let you get out of the car, tucking you under his arm as you shivered at the coolness in the air, your dress not doing much to keep you warm.
It was definitely not the first time you’d stayed the night at his place, so you easily went and grabbed one of his old shirts to sleep in before going to the spare room. Carter chuckled, making you glance back at him, “what?” You asked, feeling the heat rush to your face. “Why do you still bother? We both know you’re going to sneak into my room in an hour anyways.” He raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to falsely deny his statement. It had started once when you were drunk, and now it became like a habit, even when he stayed at your place, you would end up wandering in there in the middle of the night. Carter was so used to it, he basically was waiting for it. “Just come on.” He laughed softly, trudging into his room as you followed.
That night you fell asleep much closer together than you ever had, and it only made it harder for you to deny the butterflies in your stomach around him.
When you woke up before Carter, you took the time to look over his peaceful face. You felt his hand move, only then did you realize it was resting heavily against your side, he mumbled incoherently, shuffling closer to you, hiding his face half in his pillow. “What?” You giggled breathily, not missing the way he smiled into the fabric before forcing his eyes open to meet yours. Even with the way you had forgotten to take off your makeup, the mascara lightly smeared under your eyes, or the way your hair was no doubt a knotted mess on the back of your head. He was just in awe of you staring back at him. “Good morning.” He mumbled, rubbing his thumb across your skin where his shirt you were wearing rode up, “morning.” You responded, searching his face for anything aside from the blissful look plastered on it. “I could get used to this.” He whispered, deciding to bite the bullet as you laid face to face with him. “Me too.” You replied instantly, his smile widened, it going unspoken between the both of you that this was mutual. “Am I really about to kiss my best friend?” You wondered aloud, he laughed softly, moving his hand from your side, up to your face, pushing the mascara off your cheek lightly, “I sure hope so.” He whispered, eyes flickering down to your lips, you pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, his thumb moving down to pull it out slowly. You closed the gap, making him smile against your lips, it was a sloppy kiss, both of you smiling too hard, he tilted your head slightly, making it easier to kiss you the way he wanted too.
You pulled away breathless, “yeah, I could definitely get used to this.” You giggled, shrieking softly when he rolled you to your back, kissing you again. “Couldn’t picture it anyother way.” He mumbled.
Taglist: @heybarzy @kempe @bowenbyram @literarycharleton @kiedhara
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Playing with fire
Summary: August Walker was the new chief of the fire station in town. He could have every girl in town. Except you. Because you didn’t want to be just another number in his long list of conquests. But just once wouldn’t matter... right?
Pairing: FiremanAU!August Walker x Nameless OFC
Wordcount: 3.3k
Warnings: Smut (dirty talk; unprotected sex; oral)
A/N: I did it! I finished my entry for @evnscvll 3K challenge. The next time I pick Firefighter AU and Beyonce’s Ego somebody please slap me. Anyways. Hope you enjoy
Masterlist
Taglist in reblog
It's on, baby, let's get lost
You don't need to call into work 'cause you're the boss
For real, want you to show me how you feel
“It’s almost 11,” Beth called from the front of the store.
“And?” You called back, distracted by the task of refilling some of the pints at the display counter.
“It’s friday,” she clarified, impatient.
“Oh…” You hummed, picking up your mug of coffee as you head outside.
It was a hot summer day. The little ice cream parlor you opened last year would probably be filled to the brink most of the day. So you allowed yourself these 30 minutes every Friday to relax and dream. Dream about the firefighters across the street that were doing their weekly workout routine outside, whenever the weather allowed it.
“He’s back,” Beth whispered as you sat down next to her.
“Who?”
“Oh you know fully well who I’m talking about.” She rolled her eyes, hiding her grin behind her glass. You turned your attention to the other side of the street, your eyes going straight to him, even if he had his back to you.
August Walker was the chief of the fire station and was well known for his strict methods and his endless charm. To you, he was the guy who did everything to get into your pants, despite your frequent rebuttal. You were better than that and refused to to be just another number on his very extensive list of conquests.
It was almost as if he knew you were talking and thinking about him, because he turned around, catching you looking at him. August winked, making you sigh and look away. It was your turn to hide your smirk behind your mug.
“I don’t get it. Why don’t you just let him rail you?” Beth asked.
“Please keep in mind you’re still talking to your boss,” You replied, even though you knew it was pointless.
Yes, Beth was your employee, but before that she was also your best friend and immune to your mood. She had been down on her luck when you decided to open your own store so it made perfect sense to hire her. She was so excited when you told her you wanted to sell self made ice cream that it was impossible not to hire her on the spot.
“Well, boss,” she started with a teasing smirk, “I want an answer to my question.”
“Look at him,” you pointed out, turning your gaze back to watch him.
“I am looking at him.”
“He could have anyone. He knows exactly what he is doing to the ovaries of everyone who has some around him. He walks like his dick needs his own postcode. Yes, he is hot. But the way he just… Carries himself, like the world is at his feet? I’m better than that.”
You could hear August shouting across the street at his firefighters making pushups. A part of you hoped that he would join them, so you had some nice images you could fall asleep to tonight.
“Oh shit.” Beth cursed next to you. August had pulled off his shirt, and joined the work out.
“And you’re saying no to that?” Beth asked. You bit your lip as you watched him, crossing your legs and feeling your core pulsating.
“I am.” You gulped.
A knock minutes after you closed the store made you sigh.
“We’re closed.” You shouted from the back, returning your attention to the task at hand just when you heard another knock.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, dropping the dish cloth on the sink and moving to the front of the store. Beth had left an hour ago, but you still wanted to make sure everything was spotless before you head out. You froze at the door when you saw him standing outside.
August Walker in the flesh.
From the moment he set residence in your little town, rumours about him started flying. Some said he was a criminal still being searched by the CIA, which you thought was ridiculous, but you knew he was released from prison before coming here
He never told you why he had been imprisoned, you weren’t that close, but you two talked a lot. When it was just the two of you, sometimes he would let you have a glimpse of the man behind the facade he built around him.
Yes, he was the cocky, overconfident leader of the firestation, who knew exactly what he had to do to get what he wanted. Yet, when you didn’t give him what he wanted, you seemed to become a challenge for him and those August couldn’t resist.
“What do you want, August?” You asked, cleaning your hands on the apron you were wearing.
“You have some ice cream left for your favourite fireman?” He asked grinning.
“I don’t know. Did you bring Carl?” You shot back, with a smirk.
“Ouch.” His hand flew to his chest over his heart. You rolled your eyes before you opened the door. He leaned down, kissing your cheek as he walked past you and waited for you to close the door. You watched him as he walked in, wearing only sweatpants and a Tshirt, leaving little to the imagination. He knew how handsome he was, and he made sure to let the outside world know.
“Don’t you have some work to do? Some fires to extinguish?” You asked.
“I did have to actually save a cat from a tree today.” He said.
“You did not.” You laughed.
“Yes I did.” He leaned over the counter as you came back with a cup full of vanilla ice cream.
“I only have vanila left.” You said looking at him.
“Oh sometimes I really like some vanila.” He smirked.
“I might be tiny, but I am going to throw you out if you keep that up.” You rolled your eyes.
“I’d really like to see you try.” He looked at you, and the air seemed to be thicker. You looked into his eyes, your focus on his lips for only a tiny second before you busied yourself, portioning some ice cream for him.
You didn’t want to be another number on August long list of women he slept with. Yet you could feel him looking at you, undressing you with his eyes.
“There you go.” You whispered, pushing the bowl of ice towards him.
“No sprinkles?” He hummed. Looking up you gulped. He somehow got closer to you, his face only inches from yours. His tongue dared out, wetting his lips and you sighed.
“Why won’t you let me kiss you? Just once?” He breathed. You gulped, mesmerized by his oceanblue eyes, when you shook your head, and took a step back.
“Because you are going to break my heart.” You sighed. “You can keep the bowl, close the door behind you, yes?” You asked, not waiting for his answer as you turned around to walk back into the kitchen. You heard him sigh, the door closing behind him.
Bumping your head repeatedly against the wall you sighed.
When you got back to front you saw him walk away. Shaking your head you frowned when you saw that he must have forgotten something on the counter. It was a map of the city. Some buildings were circled red. Shrugging you took the map, intending to give it back to him the next time you saw him.
I consider myself lucky, that's a big deal
Why?
Well, you got the key to my heart
But you ain't gonna need it
I'd rather you open up my body
You felt watched the minute you stepped into the bar. It took almost an hour before you found out why. At the other end of the room sat August. He nodded at you once you caught his eyes, making your sigh internally.
“What’s going on with you?” Beth asked. She had nearly demanded for you to go out together. If you wouldn’t let August fuck you, she needed to find someone else. Her words not yours. Arguing with Beth was a losing game, so you put a dress and some heels on and just went with her.
“He’s here.” You said as you looked at her.
“Who?”
“Mr. “My Ego is as big as my dick””
“Oh and how would you know that?” Beth grinned, waving once to where August was sitting before she looked at you again.
“Because there’s no way he’s not big.” You took a sip from your Gin Tonic.
“So you have given it some thought?”
“My conscience has some very detailed ideas of just how.. gifted he is.” You mumbled.
“You had a sex dream with August?” She said a little too loud, causing some heads to turn towards you.
“Maybe a little louder. I think he didn’t hear it.” You groaned.
“Just… let him fuck you. Sex does work without feelings, you know?” She said encouragingly. Looking at her for a moment, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol or you just fed up with fighting against what was there between August and you. Emptying your glass you jumped from your seat.
“How do I look?” You fidget with your dress.
“Perfect.” She winked. “I’ll open up tomorrow. I don’t wanna see you until the afternoon.”
Usually I'm humble
Right now, I don't choose
You can leave with me
Or you could have the blues
“Are you following me, Mr. Walker.” You asked, making sure to sway your hips on your way over to him. He looked good with his buttoned up black shirt, the sleeves rolled up over his elbow.
“I would say yes, but that would make me a creep, wouldn’t it?” He asked, making you chuckle. “No. I was actually supposed to meet up with an old friend, but apparently I was stood up.”
“Oh and we can’t have that, can’t we?” You bit your lip.
“What are you suggesting?” He asked, bringing his bottle of beer to his lips, his eyes not leaving yours.
You leaned down, your hand on his shoulder, your lips against his ear. “Follow me and find out.” You whispered, kissing his cheek before you turned around, not even trying to hide your grin. You weren’t even out the door, when you felt hands on your hips.
“Your place or mine?” He whispered against your ear.
“Which one is closer?” You shuddered, his hand wandering down your body.
“Mine it is.” He growled against your ear, one of his hands on your stomach, pushing you against his chest. You could feel the hard outline of his cock pressed against you, making you moan quietly. You didn’t question that he seemed to know where you lived.
“I can’t wait to have you screaming my name.” He mumbled, nibbling on your ear. You melted against him, your panties becoming uncomfortable damp, as your mind took over, thinking on just how he would feel inside of you.
He talk like this 'cause he can back it up
He got a big ego
Such a huge ego
Turning in his arms your answer died on your lips as his crashed down on yours. It felt like something clicked. Holding onto him, as he deepened the kiss you didn’t care that you were standing on the sidewalk, making out like teenagers.
“Fuck.” He whispered against your lips.You opened your eyes, not even noticing having them shut in the first place. A whistle behind you made you look away from him, biting your lip.
“Your place. Now” You whispered.
“Fuck, August.” You cried out, your hands clutching the soft sheets of his bed. As soon as the door to his apartment shut behind him he had dragged you to his bed, stripping you off your clothes, before he buried his face between your thighs. He had you coming on his tongue in minutes, not giving you a chance to catch your breath when he pushed two of his fingers into your core, making you moan his name.
You were on the brink of an orgasm again, when he stopped, pulling his fingers out.
Panting you looked up at him.
“You gonna cum on my cock the next time.” He growled. Slowly pushing yourself up, you kneeled on his bed. He was still fully dressed. You helped him with the buttons of his shirt, your lips kissing up his chest with every bit of skin underneath, until you pushed it off his broad chest. There were scars on his chest. You would ask about them some other time.
His hands worked on the fly of his pants, before he pushed it down, revealing what must have been the biggest cock you had ever seen. That he was going commando wasn’t a big surprise to you. Biting your lip you reached for it, your hand barely closing around it, pumping it slowly.
“Fuck.” He hissed, throwing his head back.
“That’s gonna be one tight fit.” You joked, wondering how he would fit.
“Oh sweetheart. I’m gonna be gentle.” He breathed, kissing you quickly. “At least the first time.”
“So there will be a next time?” You asked, crocking your eyebrow. You rubbed your thumb over his tip, spreading the precum, before you brought your thumb to your lips, tasting the salty essence.
“I’m never gonna let you leave these walls.”
Pushing you down so you were laying on your back his body covered yours as he kissed you deeply. Your hands wandered up his back, disappearing in his hair. You gasped, as you felt his cock at your inner thigh.
“Fuck me, August.” You groaned against his lips. Desperate for him to fill you. He reached for this bedside table, opening the first drawer. He brought the foil package up to his lips, ripping it open. You felt yourself shivering beneath him as he rolled the condom over his cock. The tip teasing your entrance.
“I have waited for this…” He whispered, slowly pushing in.
“Jesus….” You moaned, feeling him go deeper. “Oh he can’t help you now, Sweetheart.” August grinned, biting his lip. He was still pushing in, and it felt so good.
“So fucking tight.” He groaned, stopping when he fully nestled inside your core.
“Move.” You whimpered.
“Sure?” He pressed.
“Yes. Fuck me.” You sighed, one of your hands on his ass, urging him to move. He bottomed out, thrusting back in, making you cry out.
“Yes…” You groaned. He began to move faster, pushing himself up, so he was kneeling between your legs, watching you.
“Better than I imagined.” He groaned. Bringing one of his hands down he began to rub your clit.
“Harder. Please, fuck me harder.” You gasped, your whole skin on fire as he brought you closer to the edge. You reached a hand over your head, grabbing the headboard as he pumped into you harder.
“So fucking perfect.” He growled. His other hand pinched your nipple, making you jump and cry at the same time.
“You gonna cum for me? Cum all over my hard cock?” He asked. He rubbed quick circles over your clit, not waiting for your answer, as you felt yourself cuming again, your legs shaking, warmth floating through your body.
“Yes. Just like that. Fuck.” He fucked you through your orgasm, making it last until he pulled out, pulling out the condom and shot his cum all over your stomach.
“Fuck…” He groaned, pumping his cock. You waited until he opened his eyes, before you swooped one finger, in his cum, making a show out of licking it from your finger.
“Jesus…” He groaned. You grinned.
“Oh he can’t help you now, sweetheart.” You teased, your laugh turning into a moan when he leaned down and kissed you senseless.
Against all odds, and everything you thought of him, it wasn’t just a one time thing. August and you were inseparable, much to the distraught of everyone around you. Beth caught the two of you fucking in the bathroom of your ice cream parlor once, and teased you endlessly about it.
There was still so much you had to learn about him. He never talked about his past. He once said he was ashamed of it, yet somehow you felt like there was something dark about him, the more time you spent with him. You couldn’t point out what, so you never said something. He would talk to you when he was ready.
You on the other hand were an open book to him. Not that there was much to know in the first place. And you caught yourself staying over his place more and more. Missing his presence in your house. Somehow he wasn’t a big fan of your place.
“I’ve been meaning to ask…” You began, hoping on the kitchen counter next to where he was preparing some dinner. He looked at you.
“Why are there pictures of building all around your apartment?” You asked. You’ve been asking yourself this question for a while now. Two of the buildings you saw on pictures in his office had been burned down in the last weeks. There seemed to be a fire raiser on the loose since the beginning of the years.
“We’re updating the fire security on a couple of buildings in the city…” He answered.
“Do you think they will catch the guy?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.” He sighed, before you felt his hand on your thigh, sneaking under your bathrobe.
“And what are you up to, Mr. Walker?” You grinned, the many questions you still had forgotten.
“I think I want a taste of dessert first.” He whispered, before he parted your legs and got on his knees.
It was about 6 months of you two dating when he asked you to move in with him. You had laughed, but stopped immediately when you saw the serious look on his face.
“Oh you were serious.” You said.
“Of course I am.”
“But August…” You sighed, walking over to where he was sitting at a table in your little cafe. You put your hand on his shoulder, sitting down on his lap. You thought he smelled like fuel, but you didn’t question it.
“My house is much bigger than your place. And we both only have been dating for a half year. Let’s give it a bit more time.” You said, kissing him softly. He sighed against your lips, his arms pulling your closer.
“Okay.” He whispered back.
Yet when he came back from a job a couple days later, a frown on his face, something felt off.
“What happened?”
“It’s your house.” He sighed, walking over to you.
“What about my house?” You asked, now frowning yourself.
“Someone burned it down. We tried everything but we were too late. It burned down completely.” He said. All colors left your face.
“What?” You croaked.
“I really tried. We really tried. I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.” He sighed. You could feel the tears running down your face, sobbing when his arms put you against his body. He still smelled of smoke.
“But… All my stuff… Oh god… Where am I gonna live?” You asked against his shirt.
“Stuff you can replace. And… I already asked you if you wanted to move in.”
“But...” You sniffed.
“We can talk it out later. Now you need a place to stay..” He said, kissing your hair.
“You’re serious?” You asked, looking up at him.
“Of course. Move in with me while you figure this out.” He said softly.
What other choice did you have really?
“Okay.” You nodded.
Later that night when you were sound asleep in August arms you didn’t see his smile. His whispered words of love as he looked down at you. You didn’t know that it was him who burned down your house. Or all the houses in the city. And you never would. Because August Walker finally got what he wanted. You.
#fanfic#fanfiction#august walker#henry cavill#august walker au#august walker x reader#August Walker x ofc#august walker smut
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so I have a very specific interpretation of the Edelgard/Hubert dynamic that I don’t think is particularly common, but I feel is worth sharing. This is largely because some people end up diminishing the importance of this relationship when pairing each of them with other people. It’s disappointing because I personally prefer these external ships (namely Edeleth and Ferdibert, for reasons I will make clear) but often see either Edelgard or Hubert reduced to some jealous, cuckoled cockblock in them. Honestly, that’s just . . . boring.
(Long post under the cut)
TLDR: Edelbert is fascinating because it can be argued that Hubert’s feelings are born from guilt and shame rather than romantic love. This dynamic is unhealthy but deeply interesting, and it deserves to not be diminished in fan interpretations of these characters.
Something that makes Edelgard so compelling is the fact that she’s full of contradictions. She can’t stand people/creatures with more power than humanly possible, yet she must use her own superhuman power and cooperate with what she despises to achieve her end goal. More specific to Edelbert, this end goal is equality, yet Edelgard is not allowed to be equal to anyone. She is a detached, untouchable princess who needs to learn how to meet her friends where they stand. It is through her connection to Byleth and to the other Black Eagles where she learns how to adapt her ideals to work in reality - and to be human.
Unintentionally, Hubert does the opposite of this. His devotion to Edelgard began as an inherited role and evolved into something he does out of personal conviction. Either way, he is putting her on a pedestal and addressing her as a vassal rather than as a friend. Many of his supports with others involve him comparing them to Edelgard and telling them they’ll never reach her level. He takes it as his personal mission to protect her from those “unworthy” of talking to her. I don’t think this is intended to be selfish or malicious. I think that because of his role as her vassal and his failure to protect her from the Hresvelg experiments, he takes on this absolute devotion and prescribes it upon everyone else.
Their relationship is unbalanced as a result. Edelgard makes constant reference to “fighting alone” and being prepared to end up isolated and maligned. The line “the solitary reign of Edelgard has come to an end” in her S-support is particularly telling. While she clearly views Hubert as someone important to her, she does not seem to view him as someone she can be fully open with. Hubert’s constant addressing of her as “Lady Edelgard” implies that he would not take the opportunity to call her “El” if it was presented to him. Edelgard and Hubert are both so caught up in the weight and scope of their revolution that they begin to enable each other’s bad tendencies. Hubert doesn’t dare challenge her, because he thinks of her as untouchable, and this devotion allows Edelgard to take him for granted. It is not a healthy relationship. I don’t think this is a particularly hot take. Their external supports are crucial for shifting these patterns of thought and allowing these characters to grow.
What I think may be unpopular is this: I don’t think Hubert’s feelings for Edelgard are actually romantic.
(For context, I am aro and just really hate m/f friends getting shoved together romantically. It may be easy to dismiss my thoughts as just me being bitter that we can’t have a m/f friend pair without one of them catching feelings but allow me to argue my point.)
Hubert was assigned to Edelgard at a young age and told it was his house’s sacred duty to serve the Hresvelg family. He loathes his father for his involvement in the Insurrection of the Seven, which happened when he was ten. It goes without saying that this largely shapes his devotion to Edelgard. I would even say these events traumatized him to some degree. He mentions this in their A support, where he declares that his loyalty has been to her alone since she returned from the Kingdom. The path that these two share is informed and shaped by trauma - what Edelgard went through and Hubert’s powerlessness to stop it. More critically, these events radicalized them both and created the “shared vision” mentioned in his B support with Dorothea.
That particular support jumps out to me. When I first played the game, I felt unbelievably validated by it. Hubert denies accusations of unrequited love in an edgily self-aware way (the line ”do I really look like the kind of drooling simpleton to have that kind of motivation?” made me literally cheer) and goes on to describe their relationship as walking the same path. He then highlights the qualities he feels towards Edelgard (gratitude, respect, awe, empathy, trust, and hope). None of these require romantic attraction. Dorothea then goes on to say that “loving another is really about wanting to be loved . . . I’m pretty sure that’s different from how things are with you and Edie”. This scene spoke a lot to my own experiences - my feelings for my best friend largely echo Hubert’s (though way less dramatic, of course) and I found the form of deep platonic love I feel for her reflected in that conversation. The acknowledgement on Dorothea’s part that it was different from romantic love (whether or not she truly believes it) is what blew me away. This is honestly one of the few times where a piece of media made me feel seen which makes me forever mad about the Edelbert A support.Though it could be argued that he’s just closed-off and could easily pull off lying about it, I know those feelings well. Others might see this as definitive proof of Hubert’s unrequited love for Edelgard, but I just can’t and I wanted to articulate this perspective because it means so much to me. Close, all-consuming, and important relationships can be platonic.
I know better than to claim that the confession scene never happened. It is interesting to evaluate because it shows Edelgard finally calling attention to Hubert’s unknowing perpetuation of the gap between them. When Hubert states his feelings plainly, he is as composed as ever. Edelgard blushes and states that “you never cease to surprise me”. Hubert laughs this off, and that’s the end of that. It clearly is supposed to be a genuine love confession, but I think it’s more interesting to consider a man with only one real close friend misinterpreting his blind devotion towards her as love because he doesn’t really know what it is. I think it adds to the kind of fucked-up nature of their relationship (is it love or obsession? How is he supposed to know if a connection borne from trauma stems from love or guilt?). It also speaks to how difficult it is to identify romantic feelings when you’ve never truly felt them.
That being said, I actually do ship Hubert with other people. I love Ferdibert because their personality clashes create a sense of mutual growth that helps Hubert learn to openly challenge Edelgard rather than subvert orders he disagrees with and it’s honestly just really funny. I also love Hubernie because the idea of a terrifying man and a girl who’s scared of everything learning to meet each other halfway shows similar character growth. I just think that for many years, Hubert’s devotion to Edelgard gave him a really fucked up understanding of human relationships, both romantic and platonic. There’s a tendency to erase the weight and importance of the Edelbert dynamic when both are shipped with other people as well as a great opportunity to show that strong platonic relationships can and should be perceived as equal to romantic ones. I have read so many Ferdibert things that suggest that their love is all-encompassing and Makes Them Whole. Wouldn’t it be more in-character to explore how they navigate the web of relationships in their lives? I love the Black Eagles’ interpersonal relationships so much and each one shapes the characters more and more. I’d love to see that reflected in ways that center platonic relationships!
#long post#hubert is a demiromantic bi king and we stan#fe3h#hubert von vestra#edelgard von hresvelg#ferdibert#edeleth#character analysis#black eagles
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this is how you fall in love
pairing: kuroo tetsuroo + fem!oc
genre: friends into lovers fluff with slight suggestive end
tags//warning: nothing major // slight suggestive at the end if you squint enough
note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. o wow look ive been posting back to back, ive been writing nonstop lately watch me ghost my stories in few weeks guys my brain = rotting, plus lately ive been feeling emotionally abuseddrained so i need something fluffy
listen to this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker + chelsea cutler for maximum feels
“you’re a lifesaver.”
kuroo huffed, eyes rolling back with a small laugh as he unlaced his sneakers and slipped the room slipper on. it was odd to see the gymnasium without any nets or balls sprawled around. the gym has been closed for a week now in preparation for the upcoming open school event and currently under the art club’s jurisdiction. under her jurisdiction with her canvases and paints and it pained him to see her ruining his sacred place. he carried two plastic bags and holding two boba teas in the same hand. he wasn’t sure which one she was more excited for; the boba, the paints she made him ran to an art supply shop or him. she reached out, the bobas in his hand exchanged as she settled it on the floor, and she squealed at the sight of the plastic bag. he frowned.
yup, not him.
tins of different colors of paint that she ran out mid painting that she forgot to buy had her dialing his number and now it’s all here. all thanks to kuroo tetsuro. she grimaced at the price tags; it was costly than her usual one. usually, she would’ve gotten her supplies online, but desperate measure calls for desperate solution. she could always claim her expenses with the club. typical kuroo, she huffed. he always preached about getting the best, not minding the price tags but she’ll be the victim of his nonstop complaining that he’s getting broke every single day. she tucked a stray hair back and mentally counted how much she owed the man as she arranged the tins on the table.
kuroo noticed that look; same look she had when they are in the math class and he clicked his tongue, “tch, you’re not paying.”
“i’m reimbursing you with the club money,” she shook her head and reached for her bag, “please kuroo, it’s so expensive.”
he reached for her wrist and she dropped the tote bag as he invaded her space. kuroo rested the palm of her hand right above his heart, his own around the waist and another under her chin as he tilted her chin up. his heartbeat was erratic, and she flushed. “it’s okay,” he said, softly. her lips formed into a small pout and he fought the urge to just kiss her.
their dynamic is something even kenma couldn’t figure it out.
they weren’t exactly dating. they are friends, close friends, and classmates. it has always been him, her and occasionally yaku; creating the chaotic duo/trio of class 5. they both played volleyballs, both captains while he’s the middle blocker, she’s their female team’s setter. they knew a lot of each other’s friends from other schools; he was the reason why she dated akaashi keiji from the first place. it was selfish of kuroo to admit to bokuto a month after they started dating that he disliked the idea of them together. typical kuroo is no longer snarky, he felt lost, felt like he was losing his other half. so, he confided to his close friend, the simpleton ace.
“you didn’t make any moves, kuroo, you can’t blame them.”
bokuto noted as them both stared at the two setters, playing around the fallen cherry blossoms. bokuto never seen akaashi smiled that much and kuroo could only wished that she smiled the same way to him. kuroo stared at the half bitten onigiri he’d been holding, suddenly every bite he took tasted bitter. every trace of akaashi on her gave him bitter taste. she liked wearing akaashi’s jersey; kuroo longed to see her in his own numbered jersey; she’s his number one after all. her own jersey number is as same as akaashi. it’s not like kuroo could hate anything he did; he treated her well. akaashi was a perfect boyfriend and everyone knew. that’s why kuroo hates him; he gave him no reason to hate the dude. it didn’t last long however, they drifted apart 6 months later, sending her to kuroo’s doorstep soaked in rain.
he stared at her soaked figure with no thoughts in mind.
“he dumped me,” she said, voice hoarse and shivering.
he was alone and was about to leave for kenma’s, but he couldn’t leave her alone. dropping his keys on the small table by the door, he threw his jacket back in the closet. “come in,” he whispered, pulling her figure in. dropping her bag on the floor, she clutched on his sleeves as she kicked off her soaking shoes. “i’m sorry, my mom isn’t home and i can’t find my keys,” she was a blabbering mess and he hushed her. he left her for a few minutes, coming back with a steaming towel and a clean shirt and pants. “it’s from the dryer. you can borrow my sister’s clothes,” grabbing her hands, they ran upstairs where he took her to the bathroom. she was too quiet, so he called her name. when she looked up to him, her eyes were red. she was no longer crying, more confused and upset. her cheeks flushed and he could see her teeth chattering. he wished nothing but to throw his fist at the man. finally, he got a reason to square up the stoic man; he always hates the way nothing could riled up akaashi.
“he’s stupid for doing you like this.”
she shook her head, “it’s nobody’s fault.”
“then stop blaming yourself,” he ruffled her hair, a small smile appeared from the corner of her lips as she watched him disappeared closing the door behind him. he left her with the hot water running, urgently grabbing the mop and bucket from the kitchen, and wiping the trail of her soaked feet has left before it could ruin the wooden floor.
cant come over, busy, ill tell u later
kuroo texted kenma. the pudding head left him on read.
they spend the night together, sitting on the floor with pillows pilling against the end of the bed as they sat in arms. he had his tv opened to one of the late-night game show. they sat in silence, her head rested on his shoulder and her lips pressed into a tiny line. at the corner of his eyes, he could see her phone’s notifications blaring despite being on mute. the number isn’t saved but it was familiar. she deleted his number already, probably out of rage, but it’s a good step.
tell me where you want me to drop your stuff
im sorry
i hope youre okay
y/n?
i heard it was storming
did you make it back home?
give me a call
im calling you okay?
just as like what the message stated, the unknown number called her. it startled her which startled him too. she stared down on the screen, he noticed the grip on the phone and wondered how the phone did not break yet. “can you answer it for me?” she said, holding the phone out to the black-haired man. shocked, he took the phone and pressed the green button. he pressed the phone to his ear and heard her name being called.
“hey man,” kuroo cleared his throat, “listen-”
“she’s with you?” the voice- akaashi asked.
looking down on the girl who was pretending to not have any interest in the call at all, eyes focused on the gameshow, kuroo sighed.
“she is. listen, i think you should leave her alone.”
“kuroo, i know about your feelings. for her. bokuto-san told me about it. if you think that this is the proper way to get her when she’s vulne-”
kuroo bit the inside of his cheeks. he was offended that akaashi dared to call him out like that. “so, what? she made her pick,” the girl turned to face him, brows up wondering what they are talking about.
“that’s low, even for you, kuroo-san.”
their eyes met. he didn’t even realize how deep the cut on his palm where he had balled his fingers into a fist until she touched it. he calmed down. “you hurt her. you have no right to say what’s low or not. be a bigger man, leave her alone,” he muttered flatly, before ending the call. they didn’t break eye contact until he realized what he had done.
“i-i shouldn’t have done that.”
she shook her head, “stop blaming yourself,” a small smile on her face.
that was 3 months ago.
kuroo had made moving on easy for her. akaashi and her remained friendly, although kuroo noticed that she tended to avoid him when possible. the breakup was indeed mutual, but merely on the fact that he lost feelings. akaashi had fallen out of love with her and in love with some other girl but who was she to judge when she was falling in love with the rooster head in silence. they still hang out with bokuto and akaashi but rarely with the latter.
she made him apologized to the fukurodani’s setter too and they remained on friendly term, still practiced together whenever they have training camps together where akaashi had admitted one training night that kuroo and her looks better together. kuroo didn’t say anything, not that he knew what to reply to that (his mind scream fuck yeah we do) but shrugged at his statement. “i guess dating her made you less pain in the ass, kuroo-san,” akaashi joked as they resumed the game.
kuroo was pulled back to reality when he felt his lips brushed against something. his eyes widened when he realized what it was. a quick kiss from her. he blinked frantically, trying to comprehend what had just happened which caused the girl to laugh. “did you just?” he asked confused by what had just happened which she nodded. she bit her bottom lip to hold herself from bursting into a laugh. “god, you should see your face. it’s so stupid. and every girl called you the playboy captain huh?”
he huffed and rolled his eyes, “i am not. i’ve been loyal to one girl for many years now, she is the one who hasn’t notice me at all,” he faked his pout, refused to look her directly in the eyes, praying that she wouldn’t notice his reddening cheeks.
“she must’ve been so stupid,” she teased, her nose rubbing gently against his jawline as she rested her figure against his closer. his chin rested against her head.
“she is,” he looked down on her, his arms around her waist tighter, “i don’t think she knows this but if she leaves me, i think i’ll be so broken inside. is it selfish to say that?” a small frown appeared on her face.
“i don’t think she ever talked about leaving you.”
a grin grew on his face, “so you know who i’m talking about huh?” she fell into his trap. she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out, calling him stupid. he studied her face, his grin softened into what yaku and his volleyball team called the kuroo is stupidly in love with y/n but refused to admit face. his fingers ran into her hair which she had been growing out in few months down to her shoulder because she thinks that he likes her better that way. the way she tried to subtly put on make up to look better that the other girls who’s shamelessly flirting with him. she was too stupid to realize that he had loved her beyond that.
he loves the rough pads on her hands from holding her paintbrushes and volleyball. he loves that she works hard for everything she’s doing be it studying, volleyball or arts, she would put her blood, sweat and tears into it. he loves that she would wait for him to buy lunch so they can eat together in class. he would buy her a box of milk which she insisted that she doesn’t need too; but he convinced it would be good for her. he wants the best for her.
he loves that all the missing clothes he’s complaining about is in the back of her closet or on her. his cream hoodie hanging behind her closet door, his random pile of t-shirts in a basket on the floor of her closet that he liked to left beside the mix pile of her shoes and his one big ass nike shoes. her room isn’t messy, it is because she kept the messiness in her closet. she also like to keep random stuff of him too. the one medal he won from a science fair hung on the headboard of her bed, the misshapen looking hand wax sculpture of their hands intertwined from a funfair where she rested a purikura of them on it and a lucky bamboo plant he gave on her birthday to compromise on the no gift rule.
“for luck,” he grinned.
unlike hers, he kept her item neatly in his drawer. your spare shirts that he borrowed and refused to return, extra towel and her toiletries, some of her drawing blocks and a small cat shaped pouch where she kept her allergies medication. mostly hidden because his annoying friends come over often and would accidentally talk about it in front of his grandparents. but, on his bedside table, he has a cup of pencils by the bed where he collected the art supplies she left behind, random markers and paintbrushes, a clay sculpture of a trinket plate she made from art club (she carved a tiny letter k in the corner beside the obvious looking genitalia drawing) and a fake plant which she was sure he will not be able to kill it.
he loves it when she wore his jersey. he lost his mind when he found out that her current season number is the same as his. he’s in love. the first time he saw her in his jersey, the number one jersey on her body was during their training. he lost concentration; mouth hung a bit. he got so flustered that he let lev served the ball straight to his head. usually, lev would be dead by now, but he doesn’t mind. his nose bled but to see her kneel beside him, clutching on his own shirt screaming how stupid he is, wiping the blood away with towel, he could only say how pretty she looked. all his teammates were startled, her included. she clutched on his collar angrily; her knees stung from when she leaped down to his side, but this idiot could only smile at her with a bloody nose. “you are fucking idiot,” she cried out angrily, pushing him away before throwing the towel on his face leaving the pleased third year laying on the floor.
he loves the way she would find a way to impress him, be it as ridiculous as the halloween costume idea she had where they’ll go as the front and end of a horse or as serious as the submitted college application to the same university he had gotten into. “you are not getting rid of me that easily, tetsu,” the evil look on her face as she clicked the submit button send shivers down his spine.
“if you leave, i think i’ll cry,” he confessed, his smile slowly died.
“kuroo tetsuro is going to cry after me?” she teased. he nodded eagerly. “does kuroo tetsuro realized that we are literally moving into the same university? i couldn’t catch a break from him,” she faked her annoyance which he playfully avenged by sending her on the floor laughing as he tickled her. tears trickled down her cheeks as she begged him to stop, screaming to get away from his grip. “please, kuroo, i’m going to pee if you don’t stop!” he obliged, tears prickled the corner of his own eyes from laughing too much. straddling her waist, he gathered her wrists in one hand over her head. “apologize and said that kuroo tetsuro is the best man in your life or i swear i’ll make you pee,” he threatened her playfully, wiggling the fingers of his free hand close to her waist. her eyes widened in fears.
“that’s not fair!”
“apologize first.”
“fine!” she pouted, “i’m sorry, i won’t make fun of you again. now get off me!”
he raised his eyebrow, “andddd?”
“annddd-” a teasing smile appeared on her face as she said the next 5 words that send him to mars and back; “i love you kuroo tetsuro.”
he froze in shock. he heard the words before but never in this way; never for him.
finally, i think i got the calculation, love you yaku!
lev you’re adorable but so stupid, i love it!
thank you for letting me borrow your game, kenma. you’re the best, love ya!
the grip on her wrists loosened. taking advantage of his shock state, she pushed him back, straddling him by the waist, pinning his own hands above his head, giving him the taste of his own medicine. “i’m not going to leave your sorry ass, tetsu. i hope you don’t regret it,” she leaned down, capturing his lips with a longer kiss. letting go of his wrist, her hand went immediately into his rooster hair while another cupped his cheek, deepening their kiss. she could feel his cold palm resting against her bare waist and she shuddered. between the kisses, he heard her whispering his name. “kuroo, do you love me too?” she asked so innocently with kisses between the words but the way she grabbed a handful of his hand in a fist felt so dirty, eliciting a strangled moan from the back of his throat. she pulled back, staring down on his eyes as his lips moved.
“i love you too.”
nothing in his hazel eye but sincerity. he groaned when she pulled herself out of his reach, missing her warm body as she laughed. straightening her sweater back, pulling her hair back up into a tighter ponytail before she picked up the paintbrush she dropped. the paintbrush left a white stain on the court. as if kuroo wasn’t here, whimpering underneath her a minute ago, she continued her work. “i need to finish the mural by this week and you’re not exactly helping me,” she warned him, pointing the wet brush his direction. through the corner of her eyes, he was propped on his elbows, still staring at her, causing her to blush profusely. it annoyed him that she would tease him, then leaving him high and dry. before she could crack open the new paint tin, he ignored her warning as he tackled her back into his arms.
breathless against her lips, he told her to continue later. the urgency and rawness of his voice made her putty immediately. looking up the man, she pouted her lips.
“kuroo-san,” she whined as he captured her bottom lips.
he elicited a soft moan from the girl. he grinned against her lips. a hand rested firmly beside her head while another snaked under the sweater. there will be bruise tomorrow, she was sure of it, he will make sure of it.
“it will be quick, baby. i promise.”
she has no objection.
#kuroo tetsuro#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo tetsuro imagine#haikyuu x reader#hq#haikyuu#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro fluff#haikyuu x y/n#kuroo tetsurou x reader#writing: hq#writing: fics
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