#ya know considering they’re the same person
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Was Anyone But You a good Much Ado About Nothing adaptation? No, not at all, but fuck it was fun!
#y’all know I have many thoughts about this play and these characters#but even though the movie didn’t completely live up to my expectations as an adaptation#I still really enjoyed it!#and I really despise all those people making posts about how sydney sweeney can’t act#idk it seems a little rude#my main problem is how they messed up the benedick and beatrice characterization and dynamic#I love that they played up the ex lovers thing (which is left up to interpretation in the play)#and i love love queer Hero and Claudio!!!#but their hatred of each other didn’t really pack the same punch as in the original#I suppose I wish they weren’t afraid to make the characters bigger assholes?#ya know- give them more flaws?#because right now the enemies part doesn’t really feel believable for big parts of the movie#They really could have leaned more into making Bea a bit of a cold and snappy mess (as she is in the original)#and Ben more of…ya know…actual human disaster who can’t commit#both of their characters in the play are driven by their desire never to marry and their distrust for the opposite sex#They included this a bit with Bea (her not believing in true love and all that)#but her break up with Jonathan (because he was too nice???) didn’t really convince me of it#They also keep insisting that Ben is a fuckboy but we never really see it demonstrated?#I personally don’t mind the fact that they changed up the whole ‘convincing them that the other secretly loves them’ bit#especially considering this is only loosely based on much ado#but I do think they made it a bit messy considering they included the gulling scenes but only as a joke#I wish they’d either leaned fully into the much ado plot or ditched it#I think what a lot of adaptations get wrong is that they’re either too afraid of leaning into their og media#or too afraid of seperating themselves from the og media#oh god I’ve reached the tag limit help#anyways- rant over#anyone but you#maria talks about things#much ado about nothing#beatrice x benedick
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after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader
summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.
contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn
reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!
word count: basically 3.9k
author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that
part two
★–————————–
Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors.
“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?”
Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago.
“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off.
“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.”
He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there.
Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?”
“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.
Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.”
And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him.
———★–————————–
Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused.
He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief.
You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out?
So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least.
He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.
And there you are.
Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off.
“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”
Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.”
Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too.
His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream.
Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him?
Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess.
Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone.
Oh he’s so fucked.
————–——★–————
Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.”
He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late.
Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work.
He had to.
Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen.
You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?”
You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.”
Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.”
And you laugh.
You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions.
“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now.
And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today.
He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems.
It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg.
And he stops looking there.
Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them.
Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away.
God he just knows you’re a needy little thing.
He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss.
“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again.
You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen.
“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes.
His cheeks are hot.
Fuck is he blushing?
He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot
You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you.
Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you.
Okay fine, it is.
“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground.
———————–★–———
Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop.
So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor.
He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up.
The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different.
“You good, Chef?”
To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat.
“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.”
You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Anything, Chef.”
Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.”
He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders.
Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back.
Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious.
When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief?
“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.”
He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.”
Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor.
——————————★–
Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you.
But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him.
You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well.
He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video.
Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.
#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto smut#so many versions of his name#🤍: the bear#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#♡: carmen berzatto#the bear x reader#the bear smut#the bear#carmy x reader#carmy x you#carmy smut#carmen x reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x you
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you and all of your new perspective
for @steddiesongfics using 'new perspective' by noah kahan
also on ao3
rated m | 3,513 words | no cw | tags: rock star eddie munson, good uncle wayne munson, mutual pining, yearning, post-vecna, love confessions, idiots in love, first kiss, implied sexual content, getting together
🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻
He’s looking down at the letter and wondering how the hell he’s supposed to be normal about Eddie visiting him.
In Hawkins.
Where Eddie swore he’d never come back to the moment he got his ticket out of here.
“Starin’ at it ain’t gonna make him not come,” Wayne says from across the counter. “Surprised he didn’t call ya to tell ya.”
“He…he left a few messages,” Steve explains, setting the letter down and resting his face in his hands. “I just figured he wouldn’t come if I didn’t call him back.”
Wayne raises a brow, gives him a look that Steve’s perfectly familiar with by now. Four years of weekly dinners with a man that’s well aware of your feelings for his nephew leads to some knowing looks and light teasing.
“Only reason he’d ever step foot in this town again is for you and you know that,” Wayne says as he opens another beer. He has three every Friday night, but no longer indulges during the week. Ain’t so young anymore, son, and I gotta stay active to keep up with all your chores, he’d told Steve when he asked. Steve thinks the doctor told him to take it easier. “I don’t think he even told the kids.”
“Don’t see why he would. They’re all over. He’s probably seen them on tour.”
Steve tries not to sound bitter. He woke up in his own bed or whatever the saying is. He can’t blame Eddie for doing exactly what he said he would, following his dreams, getting the hell out of Hawkins the moment he could. The kids did the same, but at least they visited.
“Well, they’ve been houndin’ him to come visit you.”
Steve lifts his head. “They what?”
“They just worry ‘bout ya,” Wayne shrugs. “So do I.”
“I went on a date last week! Robin visited two months ago! I see you every Friday!” Steve stands and starts pacing. “I’m gonna go visit Dustin at school in a month. And Will has his freshman exhibition that we’re all trying to meet up at. It’s not like I’m lonely.”
“Son, I think the only person lonelier than you is Eddie,” Wayne gives him that sad smile he gives whenever they talk about Steve’s social life. It’s like he knows it’s pitiful, and he knows Steve knows it’s pitiful, and he’s making sure Steve knows that he knows. “And he’s stubborn as a mule, but he cares too much about ya to let you suffer.”
“Who said anything about suffering?”
“It’s implied by the way the kids talk about you.”
“How’s that?”
“The word hermit has been used a bunch,” Wayne explains. “Now, I’m gonna finish this beer and you’re gonna stop workin’ yourself up over something that’s still days away.”
Steve rushes over to his calendar, holding up the letter, then checking the calendar.
“He’s gonna be here in three days!” Steve yells. “I can’t be ready by then!”
“What the hell do you need to be ready for? It’s just Eddie,” Wayne is smirking again and Steve’s tired of his teasing, but he’s not gonna say anything because it doesn’t do any good to draw more attention to it. “He ain’t expecting a welcome committee. Maybe a balloon or somethin’; You know he likes the show of it all.”
Steve groans.
He does know. Eddie loves dramatics, that’s what makes him such a good performer on stage. That’s what makes him a great DM.
That’s what made Steve fall in love with him.
“I don’t even know where to get balloons,” Steve says, resting his forehead against the wall.
“The new Wal-Mart should have some,” Wayne pats his shoulder. “We watchin’ the game or standing around havin’ a crisis in your kitchen?”
Steve breathes in. He breathes out.
“I’ll have a crisis tomorrow, I guess.”
“That’s my boy!”
++++
The crisis does come the next day, but this time Wayne isn’t there to make it worse or better. He considers calling Robin, but he knows she’ll just tell him to use his good cologne and try not to be weird. He even thinks about calling Dustin, but immediately shuts that down when he remembers that Dustin is the one who called him a hermit to Eddie’s face.
He finds balloons at the store, and adds streamers to the cart on a whim. He’s sure Eddie will love it. Eddie loves that kind of shit.
He also grabs a pie crust and apples because he remembers Eddie saying how much he loves apple pie with vanilla ice cream one time nearly five years ago.
Okay, maybe it’ll be weird that he remembered that.
He goes to put the apples back when Joyce bumps into him as she’s reaching for a bunch of bananas.
“Sorry honey!” She throws her hands out to catch him, even though she’s the one who almost falls. “I wasn’t paying attention. You doing okay?”
“Yeah, how’re you?” Steve gives her a small smile, trying not to show how panicked he is.
“Sweetie, you look stressed. Is something wrong?”
“No! No, just preparing for a guest,” Steve says, unsure if Eddie’s told anyone else in Hawkins he would be visiting and not wanting to ruin any surprises if he intended on doing that.
He doesn’t even know how long Eddie’s staying; He didn’t say in his letter or voicemails. Wayne hasn’t mentioned it either, which means he probably knows exactly how long he’s staying.
“Oh, is Eddie staying with you?” She asks, brows furrowing. “I assumed he was staying with Wayne. I helped him find an apple pie recipe for his visit.”
Steve looks down at the ingredients in the cart, the evidence of what he’s going to make even more obvious now. Joyce’s gaze follows his and she bites back a knowing smile.
“Ah.”
“Ah?” He asks.
“Uh huh,” she says, nodding. “I would make sure to get the green apples. He likes sour more than sweet when there’s ice cream.”
Steve looks over at the green apples and back at the red apples he was planning on buying. Joyce winks at him before she grabs the bananas and starts to walk away.
“Enjoy the visit!”
Steve doesn’t respond.
He grabs six green apples and shoves them in a plastic produce bag.
He’ll make the damn apple pie and Eddie will love it. Steve will pretend the apple pie isn’t filled with the love he can barely contain for the man, and maybe Eddie will enjoy it and leave as if he never came.
Maybe Steve can make it through this visit with dignity.
****
Eddie shows up at three in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Technically, it’s 3:03, but Steve wasn’t watching the clock or anything. That would be ridiculous.
He looks just like he always did, just like Steve expected. He’s smiling, and playing with the ends of his curls. Steve is never gonna make it through this visit with dignity.
“Stevie!” Eddie rushes in for a hug, and it should be more awkward than it is. Eddie didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms with Steve. They really only spoke a handful of times over the last few years, and most of those were forced by Wayne or Dustin. But it’s like he never left, like he’s been hugging Steve every day for years.
Steve soaks it up, falls into it and doesn’t care how it looks. If Eddie has a problem with it, he doesn’t say so. He holds Steve tighter, his breath warm against his neck.
Eventually, Steve invites him inside and it does start to feel awkward.
Eddie’s a rock star now, and despite how normal he looks, he’s different. He’s here to see Steve, but is he here out of guilt that it took him this long to visit or because he actually wants to?
Steve talks about work, and his dinners with Wayne, and spends more time than he should explaining Robin’s degree program even though he knows Robin already talked to Eddie when she got accepted. He goes on and on about what everyone else is up to because his life is pretty boring in comparison and he doesn’t want to bore Eddie away.
“Sounds like everyone’s doing good, but I already knew that,” Eddie eventually says when Steve’s rambled for much longer than he planned. “How are you?”
“I told you, I’m fine,” Steve says. “Kinda boring around here, honestly. How’s the tour been?”
Eddie laughs and Steve tries not to let it hurt. He doesn’t think he means it in the way Steve’s taking it and that’s a Steve problem, not an Eddie problem.
“I called you 37 times,” Eddie says instead of answering him. “Every city we had a show. The first few I figured you were just busy or asleep. I didn’t think about time zones. But then I started to realize you were avoiding me.”
He isn’t mad, or at least he doesn’t look mad, but Steve feels like he needs to apologize anyway.
“Yeah, sorry. After a while, it kinda…”
“Seemed worse to call since it was so long?” Eddie asks, small smile falling from his face when Steve nods. “It’s never a bad thing to hear from friends, though. You could’ve called the bus phone anytime. Left a message. We got an answering machine because Gareth’s mom always calls when we’re on stage.”
“Right. Good to know,” Steve says. Which, it is good to know, but he doesn’t plan on calling unless there’s an emergency. He can’t look as desperate as he feels and if he calls once, he’ll call twice, and then a hundred times. “What city was your favorite so far?”
Eddie tilts his head, looks him over for a moment before responding. “I liked Boston. All the kids were front row. Except El, she somehow got backstage. Still not sure how. Missed you, though.”
Steve feels his face heat up at the words. Eddie always said things in a flirty way, even though he doesn’t really mean it that way. Steve can’t let himself think that he means it that way.
“It’s a pretty big trip, so. I couldn’t miss work.”
It’s a shit excuse because he absolutely could miss work. It’s a grocery store in a small town, and he doesn’t care that much about it.
“They couldn’t find someone to cover a couple days for you?” Eddie sounds hurt now, and Steve can’t let him think that he’s the problem.
“I didn’t ask. I-” Steve has to be brave now. Wayne’s voice is in his head telling him to just tell Eddie why he’s been so distant, why he hasn’t been the one to reach out. “I was scared to go.”
This seems to throw Eddie off balance. His eyes squint and forehead wrinkles adorably as he tries to do mental gymnastics to find out why Steve of all people would be scared to visit him. Steve is known for throwing himself in the line of fire, being the first one to step in when everyone else is scared. Too bad this type of courage is different.
“Are you scared of flying? I didn’t know, maybe we could have figured out a hired car.”
“No, I don’t mind flying,” Steve admits.
“Then…why were you scared?”
“Because if I let you in, you’ll see how much I miss you and if you see how much I miss you, you’ll see how much I love you. And then you’d never wanna have me around and it would be just like everyone else I love who leaves because I’m not enough to keep them around,” Steve lays his head back against the couch. The Wayne voice in his head is suspiciously quiet.
So is Eddie.
Steve isn’t going to talk anymore; He’s said enough.
Eddie’s hand covers Steve’s. It’s warm and surprisingly soft, and bigger than Steve’s. He never realized that before, not even when he held his hand while he was in the hospital after Vecna or when he watched him play guitar for hours while he was trying to gain his confidence back.
“People don’t leave because you aren’t enough, Steve. They leave because the world is big and they want to be a part of it. Everyone wants you to do that, too,” Eddie says softly, carefully. “I think most of the kids hoped you’d leave Hawkins once they did. Dustin thought you’d come on tour with me.”
“Why would he think that?” Steve doesn’t remember ever having a conversation with Dustin that would make him think that, but his memory isn’t the best.
Eddie’s lips curl up into a smile and he leans forward.
“You know you’re incredibly obvious, right?” Eddie whispers even though they’re alone and there’s no need to be quiet. “You’ve always been easy to read.”
“What does that mean? Read what?”
“You wear your heart on your sleeve and it’s been right there with Eddie written across it since I was in the hospital, sweetheart.” Eddie points to Steve’s arm. He looks down as if he would be able to see the heart Eddie’s talking about. “You’re an open book.”
The timer in the kitchen goes off and Steve jumps up. He rushes to the oven, grateful for the distraction.
“Is that apple pie?” Eddie asks from a few feet away. Steve really should’ve known he would follow him.
“Yes, it’s gotta be perfect.”
“You made apple pie for me?”
Eddie’s right behind him now, and when he turns, there’s no space between them at all. Steve smells the airport on him, the rental car, the cologne he’s worn since Steve bought it for him before he left Hawkins.
He looks up and sees the years that have passed in smile lines on Eddie’s face, in a single gray hair that Eddie’s probably keeping because it makes him look cool. Steve hasn’t found any gray hairs yet, but he’s only 25. Eddie always said Wayne went completely gray by 30, so his genetics wouldn’t be as kind to him. Steve kinda hopes he’s right. Eddie would be beautiful with gray curls.
“Just like I said: heart on your sleeve,” Eddie whispers, leaning in until his lips are just barely brushing against Steve’s.
He’s waiting for Steve, to see if he’ll finally give in after years of near-silence, after whatever flirty and semi-codependent friendship they had before Eddie left to be a rock star.
Steve’s spent enough time waiting, and he thinks Eddie probably has, too.
His lips press against Eddie’s, sure of their movements despite the anxiety crawling through his chest and the unfamiliar taste of him on his tongue.
It’s full of hunger even though it only lasts a few seconds. Steve’s wanted this, wanted him, for so long, he puts everything he has into this moment. If it’s all he gets, he wants it to be perfect.
“You’re kissing me like you’re sending me off to war,” Eddie says when they’ve caught their breath.
“Feels like I am,” Steve admits, corner of his mouth turning up in a sad smile. “At least a little.”
“I think the odds of me dying on stage are probably extremely slim,” Eddie laughs. Steve doesn’t laugh with him. “Steve? What’s wrong?”
Steve pulls himself away, ignoring the way his chest aches at the separation. He’ll have to get used to that when Eddie leaves.
“You have a whole new life. You’re a rock star, Ed. I can’t force my feelings on you now.”
“Who said you forced anything on me?”
“I made you apple pie!” Steve exclaims, pulling away so he can breathe again. Having Eddie in his space alters his brain chemistry, maybe his DNA. “I bought all your favorite things so I could try to convince you I’m worth staying for, even though I can’t compare to going on a world tour with your band. I cleaned out the guest room and made sure I put your favorite shampoo in the shower as if you would even notice that. As if it would be enough to keep you around.”
Eddie steps closer, but Steve steps back.
“Your life is different now. It’s good. I wouldn’t add anything to it, and I don’t know why I even tried to make it seem like I would.”
Eddie steps closer, and there’s nowhere for Steve to go. He’s boxed in against the counter, and Eddie’s face is red with anger. He’s not scared– he could never be scared of Eddie– but he does swallow around a lump in his throat and try to take a deep breath to calm his racing heart.
“My life is different now, you’re right about that. My life doesn’t even feel like mine most days. I belong to fans, and the guys, and the record label. But you know what does feel like mine?” Eddie leans in close enough that his breath is hot against Steve’s face. “How much I love you. How much I have always loved you. You’ve always felt like mine, Steve.”
It’s a hell of a confession, and definitely not what Steve expected from this visit.
The Wayne voice in his head decides to speak again. Except this time, it’s something he’s said to Steve in person before.
He’s surrounded by people, but he seems pretty lonely. Kinda like he still needs a certain someone.
Steve’s brows crinkle as he thinks about the words Wayne said after a phone call with Eddie during the first part of his first tour nearly two years ago. The words were accompanied by a look that Steve has since come to recognize as his sad puppy look.
The same one Eddie’s giving him now.
Steve can’t help it; He laughs.
“You and Wayne could bottle that look and sell it to people who need someone to feel bad for ‘em,” Steve says. He cups Eddie’s cheek in his palm, rubs his thumb against the angry red that turns into a flushed pink. “I don’t know how you could love me-”
“Steve-”
“But!” Steve interrupts. “I know you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it. And you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have taken the time to come back here at all, let alone stay with me. I won’t understand it, but I’ll believe it.”
“That was easier than Wayne said it would be,” Eddie’s smile grows slowly, lighting up his face and the room.
“He’s been buttering me up for years,” Steve shrugs.
“Doing all the hard work, more like,” Eddie leans forward, rests his forehead against Steve’s. “He must’ve been sick of hearing me yearn for your love.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, you could have come back sooner. You didn’t have to wait until I was convinced I’d be alone forever.”
“And you could have called me to let me know I could visit sooner.” Eddie pokes the tip of his nose with his finger, smirking as he leans away to look back at the apple pie on the oven. “Especially if I could’ve been having apple pie on every break.”
“It might not even be good,” Steve says as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist.
“Is there vanilla ice cream?” Eddie pecks his lips.
“Mhm,” Steve kisses his cheek. “And you can have some if you promise to sit down and tell me everything about the band.”
“You wanna waste time hearing about Gareth drooling over every woman who looks his way? We could be making love on the couch.”
Steve raises a brow. “We won’t be making love anywhere but my bed. And it won’t be until we’ve talked more.”
“Fiiiine,” Eddie rolls his eyes, but grabs for the pie cutter on the counter. “Cut me a piece of pie and I’ll do my best to resist taking all your clothes off.”
“I never said you couldn’t do that,” Steve grabs the pie cutter.
“So I can take your clothes off?”
“Shirt only. And after pie…we’ll talk.”
“I thought after pie we’d be done talking.”
“How long are you staying?” Steve asks as he puts the slice of pie onto the plate and hands it to Eddie.
“Four days.”
Steve tilts his head side to side, considering what he can accomplish in four days.
In any other situation, he might be worried about how quickly he throws off his shirt. In any other situation, he would probably insist on talking to Robin before throwing his heart on the plate next to the scoop of ice cream Eddie just put next to his steaming slice of pie. In any other situation, he would take things slow and get to know rock star Eddie who left Hawkins to be someone.
But he’s finding that he’s okay with speed-running things.
He’s got a new perspective on Eddie’s visit, and maybe a new perspective on what their future will look like.
Steve drops his pants. Eddie’s eyes widen.
“Eat your pie. We’ll talk while we make love on the couch.”
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie events#steddie song fics#steve harrington x eddie munson#wayne munson#rock star eddie munson#getting together#pining#idiots in love
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ COFFEE TALK
INTRODUCTION FIC TO 'THE ART OF REMEMBRANCE'
—the rare moments of free time allow you and your boyfriend to talk about anything and everything that comes to mind... at this point, you two might as well be the third division's free podcast! —wc: 1050; fluff but mostly crack —original canon, x fem!reader, you and hoshina are just silly, hibino leno and kikoru mentions, one cuss, general pov more or less, i advocate for silly unhinged dynamics —rimi's ramble: told myself not to rush the series but i wrote this in one sitting... my summer's gonna be spent writing about this man, buckle up folks! >:]
The Third Division considers you and Hoshina as their power couple.
Charming looks paired with commanding auras, levels of strength that no one would dare go against, all topped off with endearing one-of-a-kind personalities. Two puzzle pieces that fit as if they’re made for each other.
Everyone within the division quickly accepted and supported your relationship with the Vice Captain. And with that support comes your status as the “local love team"—an inside joke and a makeshift badge of honor (if one could even call it that).
In their defense, there isn't even any sort of competition to begin with. You two are the only couple within the division.
Every member, no matter how long they’ve been in the Defense Force, holds high respect towards both of you. They trust you with a lot of things—the wisdom you both give to your members is actually useful, and your attack combos on the field are nothing to scoff at.
Yes, they would trust you two with their lives, and yes, the way they’d say it might blur the lines of comedy and seriousness. There’s simply one thing that’s holding everyone off…
No one trusts the both of you with coffee.
Ironic, considering it’s one of Vice Captain Hoshina’s favorite things.
Another inside joke is that whenever a member enters the lounge room and they’re greeted by the rich inviting scent of brewed coffee, they will be tuning in to some sort of a podcast episode hosted by their one and only dynamic duo.
No one session is the same. Sometimes you two end up talking about some story you read or some personal experiences. Other days, it’s just opening as many controversial topics as you both can while expressing your opinions in a lighthearted debate. One time, to the division’s surprise, you two started doing a deep dive into a conspiracy theory, complete with a whole digital presentation and proven statistics.
It’s even more surprising how convincingly well put the entire thing was to the point even Captain Ashiro listened in with interest.
The members found it pleasant, enjoyable even. A chance to hold more conversations about different non-kaiju-related topics thanks to you and Hoshina’s exceptionally random conversation starters.
All they ask is that you guys don’t open up a topic that might get you random looks at best, or—hypothetically—get the both of you canceled on the internet at worst.
Today was one of those days, the team figured, when you and your boyfriend step into the (initially busy) lounge with matching porcelain cups. Hibino, Leno, and Kikoru were the ones present in the room… this marks their first time listening in on the two of you rambling.
“I don’t know, Soshiro-san, don’t you think that may be a little too intense?” you made a beeline and assumed your spot on the couch right in front of Kikoru, drinking from your cup the moment you sat on the soft cushion.
Hoshina follows after you and settles right by your side, “No way!” If he weren’t holding anything, you can envision the way he’d cross his arms and huff. He mimics your movements from a while ago, taking a sip from his drink before placing the cup down with a small ‘clink!’.
A childish pout graces his lips as he stares right at you. “If you think hard enough, I’m telling ya, dicing those kaiju is just like makin’ intricate fruit carvings!”
May the gods give the juniors strength because what the actual fuck were you two talking about?
The room is radio silent. You and Hoshina continue to glare at each other as if you’re both in a mental debate. Which seems likely enough.
Kikoru nudges Leno’s arm to get him to break the ice and the poor guy sputters. Hibino breaks into a cold sweat when he catches the way you and Hoshina sharply look at the three of them.
“V-Vice Captain..! (Name)-san… go–good afternoon!” Leno prays his salute doesn’t give away the fact he’s shaking.
By record, this may have to be the oddest conversation they’ve heard in passing.
You flash the three of them a small smile and Hoshina does a small wave of his hands. Not even a second later, the man beside you jumps at the opportunity to find allies for his claim.
“You guys think that slicin' kaiju is like slicing fruits, right?”
Bless your soul that you’re stubborn enough to match his energy. “If anything, it’s more like carving wood! You have to be intricate about it!”
Hoshina looks back at you like you’ve transformed into the kaiju you were talking about, “Wood carving?! Darlin’ I love you more than the coffee I’m drinking right now, but you’ve reached a new level of insanity!”
“Comparing anything to kaiju neutralization is already some form of insanity…” Leno whispers under his breath. “Let alone wood carving and fruit dicing…” Kikoru murmurs back in agreement.
“Aww, you love me more than coffee?”
The immediate shift from a lighthearted argument to some sappy lovey dovey confession while talking about carving patterns on kaiju may be just as impressive as your combat prowess, the trio decides.
Hibino breathes a sigh of relief and mumbles, “Those two fit each other so well… wonder if it’s a match made in heaven or hell…”
“We’re soulmates!” Hoshina corrects him, instinctively reaching out to hold your hands as if it’ll prove his point further. He gently laces his fingers with yours before glowering at Hibino, “You also called us demons with the whole 'hell' comment. Thirty push-ups for the three of you, ya hear?”
Leno nudges his senior’s ribs like he wants to end him right then and there. Kikoru was probably devising ways to successfully kill him on the spot. Hibino’s fighting for his life, but he still manages to catch the way you and Hoshina look at each other with mirroring lovesick smiles.
If he manages to scrape out alive, maybe this coffee talk wasn’t that bad.
likes and reblogs are appreciated, but please don’t copy or repost my work! [edited: 062424]
#💟.series#💌.kaiju no 8#🎐rimi.works#kaiju no 8 x reader#kn8 x reader#kaiju no. 8#kn8#soshiro hoshina#soshiro hoshina x reader#hoshina soshiro#hoshina soshiro x reader#kaiju no. 8 fluff#hoshina x reader#hoshina fluff
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First Date
'Like 'em Big Series'
AN: Wow, wow, WOW! You guys went haywire for 'Like 'em Big', didn't ya? I have yet again been surprised at the popularity of something that started as a joke. Thank you all for your patience and showing the love, it really warms my heart as always 🙏 Without further ado, here's part two ❤️(I'd also like to preface that I haven't been on a first date in years, so I apologise :'])
Part 1
All characters are aged up
Raphael x Reader
Warnings: Brief mention of ROTTMNT Movie, near peril (again), meddlesome brothers, cute idiots being cute
Returning home after the mind-boggling excursion you endured had tired you out to the point of near collapse. Yet, you couldn’t sleep after everything that happened. Your mind was racing. Not because you were nearly eaten. Not because you had met a giant turtle. Not even because you found that same turtle adorably attractive. No. It’s because you were fool-hardy enough to give him your number and after you embarrassingly called him beautiful, no less. More often than not, your overzealousness has been your downfall and you wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case here.
Universal blessings had other things in mind. The beacons lit, your prayers answered, and hope restored before your weary brain has a chance to sink - a text - and the chime of that first notification is a sweet melody indeed. All of that karmic debt seems to have been paid off. About time. Again, you won’t get too ahead of yourself but this is already a good start. And, so entails days of messaging, sneaking texts on work shifts, leg-kicking with the gushy motions, and downright losing your mind over how sweet this guy is.
As for Raph, this is uncharted territory; a piece of ocean he never dreamed he’d sail because he never thought it would be accessible to someone like him. He finds himself terrified of the mornings, worried that you’ll wake up with your senses and realise who - what - you’re talking to. Such concerns immediately disappear when he opens his phone to see a routine ‘Good morning’ paired with a heart or kiss.
During this time of exchanging pleasantries, he has been falling ever so gracefully for the character that makes up your person. He’s amazed by how bold you are in your messages during the times he shies away out of fear. It’s probably no surprise that a gorgeous lady such as yourself has at least some experience in the field, which makes him all the more nervous. Meanwhile, he’s working with two left feet and terrible advice from his family. Try as they may, he knows better than to listen to them where these things are concerned. The only one who has had experience is their dad and they all know how things turned out with Big Mama.
Raph reckons he’ll take his chances. If your texting is anything to go off of, he likes to think he’s doing pretty well for himself. That hasn’t stopped his brothers from meddling, however. He expected Leo to poke his nose where he shouldn’t but he didn’t anticipate all of them getting involved. Even now, they’re desperately trying to clammer onto him in an attempt to get his phone. He has the advantage of being much taller than them but, of course, Donatello is resourceful and snatches it with one of his robotic limbs before throwing it to the youngest of the four. Lousy cheater.
The unspoken rules of the game are the least of his worries when Mikey quickly messages you. He drops the phone as Raphael lunges for him and retrieves it before it hits the ground. Then he sees the extent of the damage dealt by his sibling: he’s asked you out on a date tonight. No no no! The large turtle is mortified! Sure, he’d considered the same proposal for a couple of days now but he wasn’t sure if it was too soon. This is going to make him look like a fool! He’s finished. You’re going to read it and you’re going to ignore it and he’s going to be ruined.
The receipt goes to ‘read’ and, surely, that to be the end of it until he sees you’re formulating a response. He bores holes into his screen. The taunting three-dotted line rises and falls and each second has him in the sweats. His brothers’ heads comically peak past his shell, each invested, placing bets on what your answer is going to be. Whoever had put their money down for a positive result is just that little bit richer. Three words. Three little words that would turn out to be Raphael’s salvation: ‘I’d love to! X’.
The joyous uplift of deliverance soon flees when it truly sinks in. You’ve agreed to go on a date with him. A date. With him. He’s going on a date. With you. Where will he take you? What will you both do? What is he going to wear? He’s desperate enough to call on his brothers’ aid for any input they can provide. After all, he can’t deny that their antics have led to this. Listen, these guys have all watched how much of an impact this has had on him. Sure, they’ll poke their fun but it’s genuinely warming to see their big lug of a brother with that dorky grin on his face.
After a quick montage of his family hyping him up, going through outfits, and detailing the do’s and don’t’s, he’s finally ready. You both decide to meet on the roof of your apartment complex seeing as the sun will still be out. He double, triple, and quadruple-checks the location on his phone just in case he’s managed to pick the wrong one. As he’s about to check a fifth time, the little door to the side opens and out comes you in an even cuter outfit than the one worn on your first meeting. You, too, are in awe of what stands before you, having not expected him to go through the effort of dressing up at all. It’s nothing striking but it lights up all the parts of your objective brain that make you the size-hungry gremlin you are: a grey, sleeveless hoodie that shows off his arms very nicely.
Sitting on the roof and people-watching seems to be a good enough pass time until it gets dark. Raphael’s legs hang over the side whilst yours lay to the side of you. He should have made a note of things to talk about. You’ve both already covered basic information over the phone alongside the odd funny video here and there but he’s completely blank now. Crap. He can feel the sweats coming on.
“So, hey,” he hears your voice suddenly, “what’s the highest up you reckon you’ve ever been?”
He knows the answer to that but it’s not an instance he much likes to think about. It would have been during the Kraang invasion years back when he and his brothers plummeted from heights of the sky no person should outside of a plane. That will be a story he keeps to himself. Too deep. He doesn’t want to dampen the mood.
His brain wracks itself for something else and he says the first thing that comes to mind, “Uh… well, there was the time me and my brothers zip-lined from one building and into a roof pool.”
“No way! That sounds like so much fun!”
The elated look in your eyes makes him smile and his chest inflates with pride. “Yeah, it was! Our friend April even got it on video.”
“Do you have it?” you ask eagerly. “I’d love to see.”
That’s when you scoot closer to him to the point that your arms are brushing. Do you want to see it that badly? Yes. Was this an excuse to get close? You will die at your doorstep before you admit to anything without a lawyer. He sucks his lips in at the contact and looks down at your sparkling face before fumbling for his phone. He’s almost certain he has it somewhere.
As you’re both watching the video, three sets of eyes have their sights on you. Three pairs of eyes belonging to three incredibly nosy brothers. They’re stood on one of the buildings behind you two, a few floors higher for a good view.
“So, how come we’re spying on Raph and his date?” the one in orange asks keenly.
“Listen, we all know that Raph chokes under pressure and we’re just here to make sure things go smoothly,” the blue-banded turtle responds with a hand to his chest. The other hand grips onto a tarp that seems to be shielding a box. “And I have just the thing to get some romance going.”
Beneath the blanket, Leo unveils a cage of doves all more than ready to be set free. Where, when, and how he managed to get these birds is a mystery but life is full of those. Best not to question his eccentricities. He quietly whispers, “Fly, my pretties,” before turning the latch and throwing a flurry of birdseed in the unsuspecting couple’s direction.
Large brows furrow above concern. “Aren’t they a little too close to the edge?”
Ah. That might be problematic.
“Oh my gosh,” you laugh, “I think I would have a heart attack zipping along something like that.”
“It’s really not so bad when you get used to it,” Raph chuckles reassuringly.
“Pft! You’re a lot braver than me.”
You both smile at each other as he puts his phone away. He doesn’t believe that for a second. You were brave enough to give him your number after all. He’s about to say something else when a series of aggressive flaps and coos break him of whatever thought he had. Following, a flock of doves barrages into the two of you. Luckily, he’s a sturdy pillar but the same can’t be said for you. A shrill scream breaks past your lips as you tip over the ledge. There’s a short moment when all that surrounds you is air. Nothing but air and the impending dread of what sits below. You were only joking when you said about dying on your doorstep.
Just as your eyes clench shut in preparation, the breath in your lungs gets knocked out of you when a force catches and cradles you by your gut. This strong force lifts you up and you’re met with an even stronger chest. You slowly take a look up at your saviour and he’s got you in a tight lock against his body. His other hand is clasped onto the roof ledge and he breathes heavily. Raphael swallows hard. That was close. Way too close for comfort.
Not wanting to dawdle over the long drop for much longer, he hoists himself back onto the roof with you in his clutch. The threat of falling diminished. The threat of falling in other ways climbs higher from your stomach. Oh lordy, you’re getting the vapours. As he gently eases you back on your feet, you look up at him with wide eyes.
“I think,” you breathe out, in again to recollect yourself, “maybe, we continue this on the ground.”
“Agreed.”
Thankfully, it’s dark enough that he should be able to waltz around in the public eye without it being too bothersome. From a neighbouring rooftop, there’s a rushed scurry but when he looks, nothing appears to be there. Must have been more of those doves or something. That still begs the question of where they came from but he’ll try not to worry about it.
So, a little bit of a rocky start but it doesn’t appear to have shaken your spirit. You’re a little jittery from the adrenaline, perhaps. That and being in his arms for that short moment made you realise what you’ve been missing out on all this time. You need to get a hold of yourself, woman. For the sake of not ruining this, get a hold of yourself. The slight tremble in your fingertips doesn’t go unnoticed. Luckily, Raph has just the remedy.
He walks you to a park, quiet from day nearing its end, lit up with the gentle hug of streetlamps dotted along the pathways. The setting itself is already enough to coax you back into a level head but curiosity peaks when the mutant urges you to sit on a bench. He asks that you close your eyes before dashing off. Just what is he planning? You’re tempted to take a peak but, respectively, you sit and patiently wait. When he returns, you open your eyes to see him standing in front of you, three hot dogs in one hand, two sodas in the other.
“It ain’t much but I figured it’ll help,” he admits bashfully. “‘Specially some sugar.”
You blink up at him and shrink down with a shy bat of your lashes. “Thank you.”
Your lips spread into a mile-wide smile as you take the food and drink from him. He sits down beside you and you happily dig in. There must have been a food stand that you had walked past without noticing, yet he noticed. He’s also noticed how greedy it must look for him to have two hot dogs.
Suddenly conscious of the fact, he clears his throat awkwardly, “I hope it’s okay I got two for myself.”
“Hm?” You look up at him with a mouthful and swallow. “Oh! Have as many as you like.” Your nose scrunches up as you wave him off. “The other night I had about five to myself. Not even with the buns either.”
You laugh at yourself as you take another bite. It sounds like a bizarre way to eat them outside of their intended purpose but when Mother Nature calls, there’s no point in questioning it. Besides, the best part of a hot dog is the Frankfurter. Why waste stomach space on all of that bread? You shrug it off casually but the tall turtle’s attention remains on you as he rallies something up in his head.
“How do you feel about salami?”
The way he asks is gentle, not interrogative but carefully interested with a harboured hope. What an adorable query. You can’t say you have any strong opinions about it but if it’s there in front of you, you know you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. There’s a glimmer in his stare as he awaits your answer and it takes a lot for you to not grin like an idiot.
You glance side to side, pretending to be shifty-like and lean in towards him whilst cupping your mouth. “Once, I ate an entire pack of assorted pepperoni and salamis in one sitting.”
Raph’s eyes sparkle, almost forming into hearts. He doesn’t register how he replies, going purely on automatic as his head wanders off into la la land. His free hand grips onto the side of the bench and he can feel his heart palpitate with a swarm of warmth. Has he just found his soulmate? Is it too soon to think something like that? Does it matter? He’s not too sure he cares now. Those rose-tinted glasses are his new contact lenses and he’s never taking them out.
A few trees over, the eclectic triad of trouble is back at it again trying to formulate their next plan in the ‘Romance for Raph’ operative. Donatello tinkers with something as the other two watch their brother. They have no idea what you said as you leaned into him but it must have been something mind-altering from the way he’s staring off with stars in his eyes.
“Hurry up with that thing, Dee! I wanna hear what they’re talking about.”
“You can’t rush good work,” he states, though he holds up the complete product no more than a second later. “But yes, you may now marvel at my new masterpiece.”
It’s a dinky-looking drone, fitted with the best mic system and soundless heli-propellers this turtle genius can build, small enough that it should be able to soar around unnoticed. Leo and Mikey tussle over who gets to fly the device first, each pulling on the remote control. During their scuffle, they hit a button and it quietly thrums to life. Before Donnie can intervene, the little drone is already flying around in seemingly no point of direction until it nose-dives towards them and crashes into the tree trunk. The entire tree shakes so much that a flurry of birds dart off and head for yourself and Raph.
They sore overhead with such ferocity that you both flail your arms up to cover your heads. Unfortunately, the soda in Raphael’s hand flies up into the air with the abrupt action. It falls onto the pathway but not before spritzing his hands with the fizzy liquid. Great. Now his hands are going to be uncomfortably sticky. What is the darn deal with these birds today? Alfred Hitchcock might have been onto something. The vermin of the sky turns into an afterthought when you spot your date looking over his fingers with a wrinkled frown.
Glancing around the park, you suddenly jump up onto your feet with an idea. You gesture for him to follow after you and lead him to a nearby lake. It’s the only way you could think for him to wash away the sugary beverage. As he gets on his knees and dips his hands in, you opt to stand and keep an eye out for any more winged miscreants. Figuring the coast is clear, you go back to facing the lake with your hands behind your back.
“It sure looks pretty,” you remark quietly.
Not initially knowing what you’re talking about, Raphael glances up at you. He then follows your gaze back to the lake, taking his hands out to shake them dry. The water ripples from the movement but when it settles, he thinks he understands what you’re talking about. Starlight is often hard to come by in a city such as New York but it seems they have blessed you both with their presence. They twinkle delicately, reflecting off the water and it looks as though they’re dancing, like fireflies in the calm of night. Pretty indeed. He can’t remember the last time he sat back and appreciated something like this if ever he has.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” he hears you again, quieter this time, “what made you ask me out on this date?”
His face and the entirety of his body warms. He hadn’t expected to be put on the spot like that but he supposes you would’ve asked sooner or later. It’s only fair that you’d be curious. The palms of his hands press into his knees as he sits on his feet.
“My brothers kinda had a hand in that. I’d been thinking about doin’ it before that, though!” he quickly rectifies just in case you thought this was completely his family’s doing but you giggle. He chuckles nervously and lowers his sights. “You just seem like someone I’d wanna get to know. Why’d you give me your number?”
“You saved my life that day,” you say as if it’s obvious. He narrows his eyes at you playfully and you figured he’d eventually realise that there’s more to it than that. “Okay, so, maybe there were other reasons.”
This is where your throat fails you and instead of talking, you attempt to motion with your hands. You hold them parallel to one another and map out the air in front of you sideways. Then, you make the same movement but vertically, one hand rising as the other lowers. He isn’t sure what you’re insinuating at first but it soon clicks. Are you referring to his stature? The thing that people usually fear? Nah. Surely not. That’s when it dawns on him. There was a word - one particular word that night which threw him off guard; a word he thought he had imagined but this just about confirms its existence.
With a newfound confidence, he sits up straight and raises a brow at you. “You think I’m beautiful?”
A brash heat burdens your cheeks as they puff out. You’ve certainly dug your grave on this one. How do you even answer? That probably isn’t an issue. Your reaction must be answer enough. With a blown-out breath, you swivel on your feet away from him, not knowing how to verbally respond. Just as you turn, a pebble hits you square on the forehead and knocks you back into the lake. It makes for a mighty splash but an incredibly discomfiting feeling around your body. Your head shoots up with a gasp and you hold your upper body with your hands in the sickly, cold mud, squelching between your fingers like wet clay. If birds had apposable thumbs, you would assume this was their doing considering how the night has gone.
Raphael shoots up to his feet and extends a hand to you, much like how he did when you first met. His face is laced with the same amount of concern as that day. Less hesitant than that instance, you immediately reach out and his fingers engulf your hand just as they did before. He hoists you up onto your feet, looking over you worriedly. You’re soaked head to toe.
What he doesn’t expect is to hear you laugh, “Deja vu?”
His head cranes to the side but he finds himself smiling sadly when you continue to laugh. An unshakable spirit; that’s something he’s quickly realising you have and it’s admirable, to say the least. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for your body. You hug yourself and shiver, teeth almost chattering. Even summer nights can nip at the skin when drenched in freezing lake water.
In his haste to find a solution, he enacts the first thing that comes to mind without thinking of asking on your behalf. He quickly slips his hoodie off and holds it out to you. It’s probably a little counterproductive since it won’t dry you but it should hopefully shield you from the cold. Just enough to last you the walk home. You bite your tongue as you gratefully take the garment and slip it on. In a generalised state of mind, this is every girl’s dream right here. Your dream. It sits over you in all of its oversized glory like a great big hug. Perfect. It’s a shame to be calling the night to an end here but you both know you won’t be able to completely enjoy yourself with a dripping head.
Those same three figures dash off into the shadows, one sorely guilty for causing such a catastrophe. All Michelangelo had intended to do was throw that rock at Raph to gain his attention. It had a note stuck to it with some cute lines he could have said to you. The last thing he wanted was for it to smack you dead in the face and topple you over. He swears his aim isn’t usually that bad, hence he’ll blame the note for messing with the air dynamics or whatever Donnie called it.
As yourself and Raph journey back to your apartment, he finds himself in a bit of a funk. He tries to keep his enthusiasms up for the remaining minutes you have together but there were a fair share of disasters this evening. Not how he envisioned things panning out. He walks you up to your front door but lingers in the middle. You stop, too, and stride down one, meeting him head-level.
“Everything okay?” you ask.
"Sorry," he sighs as he sits on one of the steps. "This has got to have been the worst first date ever."
His whole body slumps and he hangs his head low in shame, arms resting atop his thighs with his hands dangling limp between his legs. This feeling just can’t seem to shake. There were so many mishaps: you falling off the roof, soda spilling over himself, and to top it all off, you got yourself a nasty bath in muddy water. He wouldn’t blame you if you took his presence as a bad omen. Disaster does seem to follow him and his brothers wherever they go. His eyes suddenly open wide and stare at the floor when he feels a soft cushion of skin against his cheek.
"Actually, it's the best first date I've ever been on," you say and he'd see a large smile on your face had he the strength to look. Removing the hoodie, you hang it over his arm and giggle, "I mean, I might have a fear of birds now but I’ve had a really lovely time. I look forward to the second one."
You peck his cheek once more before slipping off into your apartment, leaving him to sit with eyes like saucers and rosy cheeks. He supposes it wasn’t all bad. There was a lot of laughter. You two found a lot in common with one another and once you got talking, the conversation was easy. There weren’t many cases where he caved under the pressures of those ‘first date’ nerves. He felt comfortable. Really comfortable, in fact.
Raph blinks down at the hoodie and holds it up to his face. It’s a little damp but the scent of your perfume lingers on the fabric. It smells nice and he hopes he isn’t creepy for being happy about having this until you next see each other. His face hurts from all of this smiling, achy and strained. Painful but a good pain, nonetheless. An experience so new to him. He doesn’t know what to do. His body is running on highs it’s never known before. The burley mutant stands to his feet, hoodie in hand, and does the only thing he can think to do: he dances, blissfully unaware of the three sets of eyes watching from a building across the street.
"Oh, god, he's doing his victory dance right outside her apartment. Can't he save it till later? He's gonna make a fool of himself."
"Aw, but look how happy he is!"
"Indeed. I would say this is a big win for our illustrious leader."
"Hey, don't forget about our win. None of this would have happened without us and that deserves a pizza reward. Am I right, guys?"
The other two nod and mumble in agreement. It’s probably best that they flee the scene before they’re spotted, anyway. They’ll be excited to hear about their brother’s ventures when he returns and, of course, they’ll act as if they haven’t witnessed every moment of it. Take it to the grave, boys. Take it to the grave.
_________________________
I kinda love how the first part of this story was written during a fever and I had to wait until I was ill again to finish this part. Also, have to mention... the comments people!!! You ravenous animals are as crazy as me, I love it. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading these comments and I just had to include some of them here
You are my people and I love all of you so much <3
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise tmnt#rise of the tmnt#rise of the turtles#rise raphael#rise raph#raphael#raph#tmnt x reader#rottmnt raph#raph tmnt#x reader#x female reader
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Bro I think so hard about being in TWST without meds but specifically with Floyd. The way he just, doesn't care. You're tired? Awww how sad, he wants to play with his favorite shrimpy. You think he doesn't care at all until you hurt yourself and suddenly he's shackled to your side.
I just got like brain blasted by the SH post due to my own spiraling and like tjis idea alone has given me so much comfort
bro Floyd comfort…. I mean he is literally a comfort character for me, if it isn’t obvious lol. I’m really really glad I could give you some comfort! Genuinely, that gives ME comfort. Especially since my yandere twst posts are also meant to give me comfort, so the fact they do the same for others warms my heart.
It’s so surprising the first time Floyd comforts you. He approaches you, going “hey hey hey, what’s the matter with shrimpy? :(“ and you try to tell him it’s nothing. “Ain’t nothin’ if it got shrimpy sad. Tell me what’s wrong.” And to your surprise he sits and listens. And he’s a good listener, at least for you in that specific moment. He doesn’t interrupt, he doesn’t make fun of you, he sits there and hums to let you know he’s listening. You find yourself spilling everything to him, it’s surprisingly easy to. Maybe you shouldn’t have, maybe he’ll just use it all against you in the future, who fucking cares, this is what you need right now. For a second you wonder if this is actually Jade using Shock the Heart on you somehow. But no, it’s Floyd. A seemingly very out of character Floyd? After pouring your heart out to him, he hits you with a sympathetic stare. “Damn, shrimpy,” he says, “that really sucks…”
Then he gets up and you assume, that’s it, he’s gonna leave me here now. But he offers you a hand and a grin. “C’mon Shrimpy, I’m gonna cheer you up.” ‘And he will try his damndest to do just that, taking you all over campus to find something to lift your spirits. But really, the very process of hanging out with him and watching him try to find something to do with you is enough to have you smiling. You end up in the Mostro Lounge, Floyd promising to get ya whatever you want. Unfortunately, Jade is the one to take your order, which means, of course, you’re subject to his needling. But then Floyd shoos him away. And later, when Azul himself appears at your table, hoping to get his suckers on useful information, Floyd glares at him and tells him to leave you alone. “Great Seven, why can’t anyone just leave us alone? Cant they see I’m tryna spend time with my shrimpy?” And maybe you don’t realize it at the time, still so caught off guard from what seemed to be a total flip in personality, but he meant it when he called you his shrimpy. If you were anyone else, he wouldn’t have given a fuck, it’s only because you were you that Floyd was at all invested in your feelings. Cuz everything about his shrimpy is interesting and entertaining. That’s why they’re his. You notice Floyd hangs out with you a lot more after that, stuck to your side like glue. He’s awful for ADD considering his sudden swings in mood. You get distracted, but it’s even worse with him because once he’s in the mood to do something he just does it. So you’ll be trying to focus on work, and he’ll be there because he’s basically always with you at this point, and he suddenly decides you two have to go do this random thing right now. It’s the same when you’re in depressions, too, he’ll drag you along. It’s surprisingly helpful, though. It’s hard to be bored with Floyd, which makes sense considering how much he hates being bored. So even without your antidepressants… well, at least you have Floyd Leech??
#yandere#yandere rambles#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst#floyd leech#yandere asks#yandere twst asks#yandere floyd leech x reader#yandere floyd leech#my floyd addiction strikes again
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✨MC teaches the brothers about "jinx"✨
“I’m kinda hungry,” you voiced, your Curses and Hexes homework doing little to retain your attention.
Mammon snorted in response, not bothering to look up from his D.D.D. “Who are ya? Beel?”
You waited a second before retaliating, hoping that someone would come to your defense. Alas, it seemed that the brothers lounging around you had long learned to tune out any word from Mammon’s lips.
“I have basic needs like all of you too, you know,” you huffed, gesturing to the Avatar of Gluttony, cross-legged on the carpet next to you. The warmth from the fireplace at your backs cast flickering light over the crinkled chip bag in his massive hand. “Eating isn’t trademarked by Beel.”
Beel grunted, sharp snaps sounding from the rhythmic churn of his jaw.
Levi’s handheld console let out a chime that signaled some sort of victory. “It’s only, like, his whole personality lmao.”
Beel’s chewing paused, but Asmo swooped in first. “There’s more to Beel than food,” he cooed, “I mean, look at those sculpted muscles! He’s also the most handsome little brother~ ♡ ”
“Gee, thanks Asmo,” grumbled the lump of blankets on the couch.
“Aw Belphie, don’t be like that! I like your slender physique, too!”
Somehow, the mound of linens seemed to shudder in distaste. Asmo only shrugged, losing himself in his hand mirror.
“Asmo is right though,” Satan hummed, turning the page of his current book – A Comprehensive Guide to the Devildom’s Most Toxic Plants, “To define Beel as solely a glutton does little to recognize all his positive characteristics.”
Beel swallowed, before flashing a dazzling beam. “Thanks, Satan.”
The living room fell silent once more, save for Beel’s snacking and the crackling of the hearth.
“Hey!” You thought you’d try again. “Know what I could go for right now?”
You paused for anticipation, readying your answer. 1, 2, 3 and...
“Hell’s Kitchen.”
Your spine went ramrod straight, eyes locking onto Mammon in the split second after your voices had harmonized.
“Jinx!” You gasped, “You owe me a soda!”
“Huh?” Mammon blinked owlishly.
“Jinx!” Your enthusiasm was lost on your company. Your neck cracked as you glanced from brother to brother, your grin dampening when they looked at you as though you’d grown a second head.
Satan frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Is that some normie saying?” Though he sneered, there was curiosity in Levi’s eyes.
“You don’t have jinx here?” You barreled onward, explaining, “It’s a game we play in the human world when two people say the same thing at the same time.”
“How does it work?” Asmo pursed his lip, which only drew his attention to his shade of lip gloss, his mirror capturing his eyes once more.
You shrugged, “There are various versions of the game. Sometimes, the loser can’t speak until they buy the victor a drink. Other times, they’re silenced until their name is uttered aloud 3 times.”
Mammon lunged forward, toppling off the couch as he rushed on all fours to where you sat on the carpet. Before he could protest, eyes wild with a mix of fear and anger, you placed a finger to his lips.
“Nope! Not ‘til you buy me a Devil Cola!”
“LOL!” Levi rejoiced, “Mammon, you’re such a n00b!”
You weren’t the only one who noticed the way Mammon’s eyes brightened, Satan chiding, “Watch it. You can’t say his name or he’s freed, remember?”
“Oh~ I wonder how long he can hold his tongue?” Asmo giggled, finally distracted from his mirror. You couldn’t blame him. Mammon’s expression was a cross between anguished and constipated.
His jaw clenching, slivers of his teeth glinting through curled lips, you could feel the irritation radiating from the Avatar of Greed. Absently, you considered if you should tell him it wasn’t an actual curse. Did he know there was no power other than himself silencing him?
“Can he eat?” Beel inquired, genuine concern mingling with sympathy as he watched his older brother straighten up and march towards the entrance hall.
“You don't need to speak to eat,” Belphie's muffled voice reasoned beneath the blankets.
“HEY MAMS!” You called to his back, shoulders curled up to his ears in anger, “Buy me a Devil Cola, won’t you?"
And really, you hadn’t expected him to follow through at all. He left the room and you returned to your homework. Beel continued eating, Belphie continued sleeping, and Satan continued reading for the sole purpose of poisoning Lucifer, you were sure.
About thirty minutes passed before you heard the door to the Hall of Lamentation creak open.
“No way!” Asmo squealed, a shutter sounding before Mammon could sprint to the couch and swat the D.D.D. from his freshly manicured hands.
Your jaw hit the floor as you looked up at the second born, at the condensation dripping down the can of soda that he thrust in your face. A petulant pout only brightened his blush, the way his eyes looked anywhere but you. The red tint to his skin darkened as his brothers laughed, jeered, teased him.
The least you could do was offer him some praise. You smiled with all your teeth, “Thanks Mammon! The jinx is lifted.”
He scowled, waving off your gratitude with an unnecessarily noisy exhale. With his newfound freedom, he instantly started pestering Asmo, critiquing his most recent Devilgram selfies. As your heart swelled with affection, the words in your textbook falling on blind eyes too occupied by the tiniest movements of your family, you felt completely at ease.
You didn’t think you needed to elaborate, to clarify that you had used your pact and that there was no real magic behind the jinx.
However, when you entered the House of Lamentation two weeks later, you realized you had been very wrong.
The living room was a disaster, pillows tossed this way and that, candle wax oozing across something that looked suspiciously like a summoning circle. Splintered wood littered the carpet, broken chairs in a mangled pile next to the hearth. You were pretty sure you could smell something burning.
You nearly dropped the bag of groceries in your arms, Beel stock still at your side. One look at your shopping buddy told you he had no idea what was going on, concern blazing to life in his purple eyes.
“Lucifer?!” He called out, immediately seeking reassurance.
Instead of the eldest’s smooth drawl, you were met with an incomprehensible shriek from somewhere in the kitchen. A clatter of pots and pans. A crash.
Belphie came sauntering into the room, nodding in greeting. “The jinx didn’t work.”
“What?!” You gawked, surveying the damage to the room, “What is going on?!”
“He could still talk!” Satan fumed, stomping out of the kitchen with his bony tail lashing back and forth, “So I cursed him, but then that asshole reflected it, and it hit Asmo instead.”
Sure enough, a completely drenched Avatar of Lust was next to appear, his mouth moving a mile a minute and yet, not a single sound to be heard. He tossed his hands in the air, hissing something fierce before flicking a wet strand of hair from his face.
“And Asmo tried to charm Mammon to speak for him,” Satan was still ranting, “but Mammon tried to charge him for his services, which then set Levi off about repayment with interest.”
You hugged the groceries tighter to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut as you realized you knew exactly what was happening in the kitchen. You heard the roar, the rumble of the house’s foundation, the continuous rush of water drowning out twin shouts you had heard far too many times before.
But not as many times as the one voice that rose above them all.
“MAMMOOOON?!”
You winced. You’d have to buy your first a Devil Cola later.
*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜
technically mammon was the one to provoke levi to summon lotan, so rip buddy. but let's be real, they're all getting punished.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN. READ MORE HERE.
#obey me nightbringer#obey me shall we date#obey me leviathan#obey me#obey me belphegor#obey me satan#obey me mammon#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me drabble#my writing#aspiringtrashpanda#if you want to send me requests you can#the inbox is open
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(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE: TRICK OR TREAT!
masterlist
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happy halloween! this is not an actual chapter unfortunately, so those who got their hopes up at an early release i’m SORRY 😓 however i consider it more fun! this is what each chapter from the sjap universe would wear on halloween🙂↕️ consider it 14.5! i hope you enjoy this as much as i did making it. also shoutout to my babygirl ree for helping me with these. I LOVE YOU BAD! <3
megumi fushiguro as BILLY LOOMIS
“ghostface? nah too basic” the raven states broadly.
sure scream was his favourite horror slasher but dressing up ghostface was too overrated, too tacky. he needed to go as someone more niche, someone he knows nobody would dress up as, someone hotter. introducing billy loomis! still the same franchise just a tad bit more creative! (not entirely but we’ll give him pity points) but man did that he look hot. the fake blood dripping down was the cherry on top. seeing his hair not entirely gelled up for the first time the guys realised he looked like his dad. like a lot
“no shit, we’re related” he said in front of the bathroom mirror as he wets his hair for the 3rd time, trying to perfect his look.
toge rolled his eyes, chewing on his toothpick
“ya know megumi you should’ve just went as ghostface, atleast no one would look at that makeshift shitty hair of yours” toge sneered
megumi turns around, hair soaked as he goes into punch the platinum blonde but misses as the water drips down his face into eyes as he stumbles back into the counter.
“woah slow down, the only person you’re gonna kill is yourself at this rate” yuta quips as he walks in to see what the commotion was going on in the bathroom.
megumi looks at yuta, then back at toge, then back at yuta. his head going side to side frivolously before bursting out laughing.
“what’s so funny?” yuta questioned
“didn’t pin you for the type of guy to dress up as a gay cowboy” he sneers, wiping both tears and the dripping water from his eyes.
toge inumaki & yuta okkotsu as ENNIS & JACK
“what do you mean gay cowboys?” yuta says, slowly turning to toge with an eyebrow raised.
“you mean you seriously never watched brokeback mountain?” megumi asks after recovering from his laugher fit
“am i supposed to?”
he looks at toge who was smirking with that stupid toothpick in his mouth, twirling it around.
“and i thought i was evil” he shakes his head chuckling.
yes, yuta did in fact not know that toge made him dress up as ennis and jack from brokeback mountain (yuta being ennis and toge being jack). in his defence toge did ask if he wanted to go as cowboys for halloween and yuta being yuta obviously said yes. though he did find it suspicious that toge wouldn’t let him pick out just any cowboy costume. he said he had a vision in his head and to just go with it. yuta just thought he was going for a niche version of a cowboy not the version where they’re two bestfriends fucking on top of a mountain. it’s far too late to change their costumes now, so yuta left their condo in what seemed to be “bro-love” going too far. on the other hand toge was EATING it up, strutting the down the streets in the “best costume” (his term) of the night. toge definitely forced yuta to make tiktoks to brokeback mountain audios throughout the night and def went viral LMFAO. poor yuta is embarrassed.
“oh my god, i am mortified” yuta says into his hands after hearing megumi explain the plot of brokeback mountain - he toned it down of course so it wouldn’t kill yuta.
“eh you’ll be fine, it’s not the worst costume in the world”
toge almost caught whiplash by how fast he turned his head. not the worst? what the fuck is that supposed to mean. he knows megumi can’t be talking looking like that.
“you know megumi, with all that blood you could pass as somebody’s diva cup” toge spits at him, obviously hurt.
“did somebody say diva?!”
yuji itadori as ROCKY BALBOA
yes yuji we are talking about you!
this may be fan service for ree… but guys TELL ME YOU DON’T SEE IT ASWELL? i could not find a rocky costume that i thought was fitting but imagine the second picture but with his shirt off🙂↕️ yeah…. just thinking thoughts…
yuji would be getting stared at ALL NIGHT and gets asked for tons of pictures in his costume because he looks so damn good. he definitely makes tiktok thirst trap edits because at the end of the day he’s still just a loser trapped in a hot body </3 the guys end up going through a haunted house and yuji actually gets scared and knocks one of the workers out… he blames it on method acting so he doesn’t get the cops called on him and somehow it works? also trust he is flexing his muscles the entire night and challenges literally everybody (mostly girls) to arm wrestle him. his go-to pick up line throughout the night is “if i win i get your number, if you win you get mine” and he winks at them before the countdown. CORNY but it works (i would fold as well sorry)
“yuji stop flexing yours abs for one second it’s gross, you look like a male prostitute” toge groans in disgust as he kicks rocks on the sidewalk”
“the correct term is actually jiggalo, and i think you’re just jealous that i’m hot and cool and you’re just a shitty gay cowboy” yuji replies back through a smile as he waves to everybody who’s pointing at him
“IT’S BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN”
“ooooo is that the name of the new club that opened?”
if you guys want more boxer yuji go read BATTERED N’ BLUE by the lovely @aozui <3
yn as MAXINE MINX
life being the baddest isn’t easy and it especially isn’t easy when it comes to choosing a halloween costume. between wanting to be hot, but also niche, but not too niche! but enough that it surpasses basic, but also fun... did i mention hot? so who better to dress up than someone who fits all the requirements than none other than maxine minx!
yn had this planned months ago. she wanted everything to be perfect down to a T, and she was not the type to pull something last minute out of her ass. she was not going to put on an amazon corset and call it a day. hell, it wasn't even just her, the whole apartment had planned their costumes in june. if serving cunt was a dysfunctional group of roommates it was them. think bodies bodies bodies x scream 6... yeah i would not want to be their enemies if a psycho killer was going around murdering people. and best believe their group pictures are turning out so hot (partly due to the personal photographer they booked before LMFAO) but everyone knows the other part is their well-thought-out costumes.
"oh my god did you really bleach your eyebrows for this" a familiar voice commented at her as she walked into the kitchen.
"the dedication is crazy, but i guess you still look hot."
a smile broke out of her, still focusing on preparing drinks for the party of the century.
"it's just concealer babe", she replies as she looks up from the drink station to where she was met with nobara, who was sitting on the sage love chair in an all too familiar pose.
"no fucking way... are you-?"
nobara kugisaki as CATHERINE TRAMELLE
what’s better than one cover girl? two cover girls!!! or in this case replace cover girl with evil femcel maneater final boss!
the party girls have a tradition of watching a horror/slasher movie each sunday during october, so when nobara said she hasn't watched basic instinct last year, trust it was the first movie they watched on that first sunday.
"ugh, i just know she would of made a bomb fucking costume for halloween", nobara groans.
"too bad you're already going as marie antoinette" panda sighs.
"there's always next year" yn states, clearing up the popcorn on the coffee table.
and next year indeed.
meticulously choosing each article of clothing and hand picking accessories so she could be the emodiment of catherine tramelle. even though she was one glass of red wine away from being mistaken as a housewife of beverly hills, it didn't matter. dressing up as someone so smart, so sinister, so sexy was the principle itself. she didn't care if nobody understood who she was or being asked if she knew it was a halloween party, not a dinner at nobu - she knew she was that fucking girl. but of course, most people knew who she was, even the cute girl standing by the drinks station who was ogling her the entire night and who so badly wanted nobara's number. spoilers: she got it.
"i can't believe you actually stuck with", yn says after managing to close her jaw.
"god you look hot"
nobara smirks at her reaction.
"i wasn't going to let the opportunity slip pass that easily" nobara smirks to herself.
before yn could respond, a loud bang followed by the sound of a door being slammed interrupted her train of thought.
"FUCK!"
both the girls' heads whipped around the find a panicking maki pacing out her room.
"has anyone seen my anastasia lip liner?" she huffs, crossing her arms.
maki zenin as BETTY BOOP
the look, the lips, the hips, the taste… everybody please welcome miss zenin!!!
"no but have you seen an extra pair of panties? i need to change."
i mean this costume was in the works since her hair cut. i mean come on… IT’S PERFECT? maki as betty boop? nah betty boop as maki zenin! uh huh nodding my head right now. an iconic if not the iconic costume in the apartment. maki is not one to typically wear dresses - mostly sticking to jeans, shorts & skirts and the occasional jorts but DRESSES? you’d have to be either jesus or yuta to convince her to put one on let alone a mini dress. and good lord she looked good. yuta almost had a heart attack when she sent him a picture of her costume. yeah it was gonna be a long night for him.
she rolled her eyes at the remark but can’t help the smile that betrays her facade. she looks over to the silhouette standing in the hallway, almost… waiting?
“panda we aren’t playing a theme song just for you to come out just show us your costume already”, maki sighs
he stomps into the living room with a sulk in his step.
“you guys are boring bitches”, he huffs.
panda as a SONNY ANGEL
the girls all had their mouths shaped in an ‘o’ as he entered, hands on hips - giving the most sass imaginable.
“panda what happened”, nobara stifled a giggle behind her hand.
so this was not panda's original costume but his backup one... unfortunately for him, his original costume was to go as a slutty version of batman but he was then met with his long awaited karma..
RIIIIIIP
“oh my fucking god” he said to himself as he hesitantly checks the back of his costume. he finds a hole right where his left ass cheek is.
a big one.
luckily for him, he’s immune to costume malfunctions and bought a back up for times like this. sure it wasn’t as creative or risqué as slutty batman but it was the next best thing.
“i don’t want to talk about”, he mumbles, earning an eruption of laughs from the girls.
he stood there in silence as they speculate what on earth could have happened to his original costume. eventually he told them which then lead to another fit of giggles. atleast that was over. they had a party to plan. and besides, sonny angels are supposed to bring you good luck right?
wrong.
the night was a mess. panda got atleast 7 different drinks spilt on him that night and almost got into a fight with todo because he won the ‘best costume’ contest. (he was a passenger seat and mai was chappel roan).
—
BONUS COSTUMES!
as we know there are two weekends where halloween is celebrated, and this year is no different. debate after debate, "should we celebrate halloween the week before or 2 days after the actual event?" well, why not both! both the party girls and tridant came together to complete the "maze of death" (it was just a corn maze, famous for the actors jump scaring you every now and then - similar to the haunted house the boys went to, but much more intense) these set of costumes are what both groups wore on halloweekend 2 + how each character would react during a haunted maze!
megumi as THE SCARECROW
megumi got confused and thought yn’s costume last week was hers this week and decided to match with her without telling her. (he thought it would of scored him brownie points) though when he found out yn was dressed up as someone else he was immediately embarrassed. yn thought it was adorable how he tried to match with her so called costume and gave him a kiss on the cheek as a recognition for his efforts. (definitely got those brownie points)
he walks WAY ahead. he wants it OVER with >"if i walk faster, they can't get me" type mf. he's miserable but can't take yn laughing behind him at all. he’s going through many stages of grief.
he unfortunately has to lead the group through it even though he's pretty scared himself, but he calms himself by saying "toge def was worse" or some shit. (spoilers he was in fact worse)
yuji as XANDRA
i hate gay halloween, what do you mean you’re xandra from papa’s freezeria?
oh he scares the workers BACK. my king.
had full intentions of scaring yuta during it but got caught off guard and accidentally punched the workers that personally jump-scared him because he's automatically triggered into fight or flight mode like no tomorrow.
yn & toge as SHARPAY AND RYAN EVANS
they came up with this idea when toge was at their apartment doing the usual antics (eating all their food) and saw yn watching high school musical. told her it would make a pretty good halloween costume as a duo and he saw the bulb light up in her head.
first they have a competition who won't be scared but i fear they are desperately clinging onto each other 10 seconds in then act like NOTHING happened once they exit toge is scared so much he can't talk, yn is pale as fuck, and they agree to never talk about it.
(yn says she won the competition 2 hours later)
maki & yuta as a COP AND PRISONER
everyone awwed at them when they saw their costumes. i mean how could you not? #coupleoftheyear
oh yeah so…. yuta wanted to ditch at the entrance but maki hauled his ass with her. he doesn't do well at all, he pukes at the end and maki just patted him on the back.
maki has a poker face throughout the whole thing. does not gaf. she is not scared at all and corrects how they can be scarier to their FACE mid scare. the workers almost walk out.
nobara & panda as the BEE & COOKIE
committing to the ynmegumi bit so bad im ctfu.
panda’s more depressed about how he missed the volunteer dates in order to work at it. but like yuta, he screams so much it haunts nobara’s ears. he screams like a little girl. he almost pisses his pants and hides behind nobara but it makes him a BIGGER target because ofc they're gonna see a 6 ft giant trying to hide??? the haunted house workers def bully panda in the groupchat after their shift ends. he tries to act all tough afterwards saying he "handled it like a champ".
nobara has an average reaction ywkim, she does scream and does get scared but she's literally fine. she NEVER lets panda live it down though, she has a video of panda screaming too.
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Hi thank u for opening asks! Can I request headcanons for the male companions (and or gortash Raphael and the emperor) having a mute s/o either because they can’t talk or they’re very shy
A/N: Here ya go! Managed to get everyone to stay mostly in character. Please be warned there are hints of nsfw for each character, although nothing graphic in nature. And that the entries for Gortash and Raphael describe abusive relationships, so heed the trigger warnings below.
🔇 Mute!Reader HC x BG3 Males: 🔇
TW: Domestic Abuse & Vaguely NSFW Content
(Abuse and Manipulation for the Gortash & Raphael ones. Also allusions to sex throughout each entry.)
Astarion:
He’s suspicious of you at first. Even more so that you don’t talk. But if you prove you’re not a threat in other ways, he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. He talks to you about the same. A good amount of what he says is either posturing or complaining- and that doesn't change just because you can’t talk back. If anything, he complains even more, knowing you wont tell him to shove off like the others. He greatly enjoys how dramatic he gets to be around you. He’ll lean against a city wall and dramatically lay the back of his hand over his face: ‘I tell you Darling, it’s like these people don’t notice me at all!’ You blink at his outburst, your expression unchanged, clearly unamused.
Still says lots of witty comments under his breath, and subtly looks over at you to see if you’ve smirked or blushed in response. Gets really good at reading all the little reactions you make. He makes a mental catalog of every half smirk, every eye twitch, every shoulder shrug, so that he knows how you feel about something he or another has said.
Appreciates the fact that you’re unlikely to repeat anything he says to you, which makes him feel all the safer confiding in you about his condition and his past, knowing you can’t go sounding the alarm.
Ends up going on tangents or rants about the others while you just sit there and kind of grimace, empathetically. He knows it can get annoying to just have to listen, but he’s extremely grateful for the outlet. Cazador certainly never cared what he was feeling. Nor did any of his ‘siblings’. But with you, he can bitch about his day only to turn around and find you still there, listening intently.
Becomes a lot touchier. Like a lot. He switches from checking to verbal confirmation to physical confirmation. Takes your hand, or pulls you close, squeezes your shoulder- those sorts of things.
Personally takes it as a challenge to see how loud he can get you to be when you’re intimate together ;)
Gale:
Doesn’t notice immediately lol. He’s too busy being overjoyed at the fact you don’t interrupt his long winded, pun-filled speeches to even consider it’s due to a disability or something similar on your part. He just thinks you’re the most wonderful listener. And of course, this makes him fall head over heels for you lol.
Once he does get it, he just sort of goes, ‘Oh.’ And lets that sit in the air. (He’s a bit awkward around you for a while, unsure of how to apologize, so you’d probably need to approach him and make your forgiveness known.)
Once that misunderstanding is over, he immediately becomes occupied with finding spells to help you talk. If that’s something you want, you appreciate the effort, and let him know you’re in no rush. If that’s something you’re not interested in, you tell him as much. He’s a little disappointed and taken off guard. He explains he’s always used magic to solve his problems. You raise your brow and give him a look that says ‘And that’s been working well for you, has it?’ He relents after that.
The two of you get really good at reading each other’s faces. And Gale takes it upon himself to talk less as well, even though you explain he doesn’t have to. He insists, saying he wants to understand what your life is like. He lasts like two days lol.
Becomes mostly competent at understanding what you’re saying either via sign or body language, but occasionally Tera has to translate for you. Thank the gods for tressyms.
Wyll:
Is momentarily taken aback, embarrassed by his concern he was being rude to you before, assuming you could talk to him but were choosing not to. Apologizes, profusely, for the misunderstanding on his part.
Learns to communicate with you through other means, be it writing, or by whatever the Faerun equivalent of sign language is. He’s not the best at it, but he tries really hard to learn. Picks up basic phrases like greetings, and moods. Does request that you slow down if you’re fluent, to give his brain time to catch up.
Doesn’t let anyone in the group make petty or passive aggressive comments while giving them a look or chewing them out. He’s very serious about it. The next time Astarion says something off the cuff, Wyll responds with, ‘Well, Astarion, I’d assume you of all people would be used to it being quiet. Having only the other rats of Baldurs Gate as friends for years.’ He’ll go for the jugular- he doesn't give af! No one gets to make you feel bad about it.
Considers going to Shadowheart or Halsin, or even Gale and asking them if there’s something they can do to help you/your condition, but that’s only with your blessing of course. He wants to help you, but doesn’t want to overstep.
Comes to appreciate how honest you are in your other reactions- your eyes and your body language. Wyll is used to being deceived- by demons, humans, and the like- so he thinks it’s so special he can read you like a book. Whether you’re strolling through Baldur’s Gate, or enjoying your marital bed, it matters greatly to him how you truly feel and think. He’s glad he’s able to share your truth with him.
Halsin:
Catches on fairly quickly, although he doesn’t bring it up to you directly. He figures you will bring it up when you are ready to discuss it, and in the meantime, he would not want to pry. Listens intently when you tell him by checking in with your facial expression as he reads your writing.
Tries to find ways to help you with what you can do. Suggests maybe enchanting a feather pen and scroll or some chalk and a small board to write out what you’re thinking so others can understand how it is you feel in real time. He offers his druid magic to do whatever you need. Hell, he even considers mentoring you to see if you feel nature’s calling. If you were a druid, perhaps you could develop a relationship with an animal companion, say a bird, or an awakened rat, or a giant eagle and get them to speak for you.
Similar to Wyll, Halsin will try to learn sign language if that’s something you speak. However he isn’t the most adept at it. He’s very used to spellcasting, which requires at least one free hand, often his dominant hand. So he tries learning sign with his nondominant hand, but that makes it all the more difficult. He knows the alphabet, but that’s about it. You will have to slowly spell out your sentences word by word in order for him to get the gist.
Makes sure you’re either safely hidden away at camp, or stay within his sight during a battle. He knows you cannot cry out for help, so he wants to make sure he can keep an eye on you throughout any conflict.
Loves just being close to you. Swears he can hear the intention of your heart when the two of you are so close. He wants to assure you, your difference doesn’t make him love you any less. If anything, he is impressed with how much you continue to adapt to and overcome. He’ll say, ‘You need not speak for me to know your voice, my heart. One look in your eyes, and I know, it is an internal melody so beautiful, all of nature could not compare.’ He’ll place soft touches to your skin and face, and check your reaction before progressing any further. He thinks being intimate with you is the best way to express your emotions as a couple. After all, sex is the most ancient language of all.
Minsc:
He doesn’t get it until Boo points it out to him lol. And even after being told, he still forgets from time to time.
Minsc loves to talk. Well brag. And boast. And speak in the third-person. So he’s not thrown off by you having to refer to yourself with body language or with possessive pronouns in Common writings.
He will ask you lots of questions, all throughout the day. Some are obvious and others are seemingly random, and difficult to explain with your words limited to being written down as fast as you can before Minsc’s mind wanders and changes the subject. It’s a workout for your wrists honestly.
He will loudly announce that you’re mute every time you meet new people. ‘This is (Y/N), my dear love, she cannot speak. So (Y/N) will write her answers for Boo. And Boo will tell me. Then Minsc may tell you.’ You keep trying to tell him, the system doesn’t need Boo and him to interpret for you, especially if you’re already recording your answers in Common for others to read.
He will never let you apologize for not being able to speak. He refuses to see it as a problem. ‘Minsc speaks loud enough for both of us, no?’ He thinks you’re the most wonderful person around. He could have his pick of the crop, and yet he chose you. Trust him, you’re the person he wants to be with more than anything.
Gortash:
Actually kind of prefers lovers who don’t talk back, lol. He’s a very insecure man when it comes to his character. He’s cunning and wise, but clawed his way out of hell (quite literally) and the self-critical voice in his head never silences. So he’s oddly comforted that you can’t demean his temperament.
He won’t try to fix it, nor will he allow you to try and change it in any sort of way. He doesn’t want you to go babbling on about his plans or how he is behind closed doors. That information cannot be getting out. So no, you will not be allowed any magic or spells to help you communicate.
He will open up to you on occasion in private. The longer you’re together, the more safe he feels like confiding in you. If you feign sympathy, or if you are in fact sympathetic to his backstory, he’ll feel something akin to love for you. It’s not quite love. It’s much more logical, more calculating and pragmatic than that. But it’s about as close as you’d get with him.
Likes how you have little to no choice other than to stay at his side and listen to him intently. He loves watching all your little apprehensive reactions when beckons you closer and pulls you into his lap. How your pulse races, how your breath quickens, he knows how his proximity makes you feel, even if you can’t open your mouth to speak the words. Besides, he’s very sure your mouth will be good for, let’s just say, other things.
He will allow you to write him little notes here and there, but only in his office, and only when no one else is around. He’s rather paranoid that way. But he’s also rather pleased how it means you must keep seeking him out during his working hours. He’s under no false impression that he's the kindest lover. But you can’t leave him. You need him. He’s the only one who’s allowed to understand you. And he intends to keep it that way.
Raphael:
Like Gortash, Raphael feels a sort of sick satisfaction over the fact you can’t talk back to him. But then on the other hand, he feels a sort of sick disappointment that he can’t torture you into making all those sweet pathetic noises for him. So it’s 50/50 with him.
He will consider giving you a voice via deviant magic if it means he can hear you beg. It drives him absolutely wild, and he refuses to go completely without it. Takes said voice away if you venture too far into brat territory, or you directly insult him. It’s a privilege for you to even look upon him, how dare you use the gift he gave you against him?
Has Harleep babysit you when he isn’t there. You can’t exactly call for help, and Raphael’s house isn’t safe for you to be wandering about unsupervised.
Enjoys the look of pure frustration on your face when you try learning to write in Infernal, only to fail miserably. He thinks you’re adorable all revved up. He will read the notes you write in Common, he just doesn’t always respond to them. Despite his refusal to acknowledge most of them, you can tell he understands them, based on how large that vein on his forehead gets lol.
He will let you choose whether or not to have a voice during certain moments of pleasure; well, mostly pleasure. He loves the little gasps and moans you make, it fuels his lust for you even more. Then again, he doesn’t need to hear the sweet cries of your pretty voice to know whether he’s on the right track. ‘I can sense your heartbeat, little mouse,’ he'll whisper to you. Your body reveals to Raphael all there is to know, whether you want it to or not.
The Emperor:
It literally doesn’t matter. Dude’s telepathic lol.
Wishes you’d become an illithid so you’d be telepathic too. Almost doesn’t take no for an answer on that one.
Ultimately ends up relishing in the fact he alone can understand you- your wants, your needs, your dreams, and hopes. It makes him feel all the more powerful.
Will give you the play-by-play about the Nether Brain and the Chosen Three because he’s been dying to tell someone, and he knows you can’t go running in the streets telling everyone and ruining his hopes of manipulation. Mainly because you don’t talk but also because he’s not letting you leave his realm lol, no way in hell.
If you really don’t feel at home here, ‘You could always,’ he’ll suggest coyly, ‘Become one of us.’ You don’t even have to shake your head to tell him ‘no’. Your facial expression does all the talking for that one.
#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate x reader#bg3 imagine#astarion x reader#gortash x reader#gale x reader#wyll x reader#halsin x reader#bg3 raphael x reader#the emperor x reader#minsc x reader#baldurs gate imagine#baldurs gate 3 x reader#baldurs gate 3 imagine#hc#bg3
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Friends don’t look that way
Feat. Kenma, Osamu & Sakusa
Kenma
Kuroo has never seen Kenma this way before.
Kenma has always been quiet, enjoying the company of his games way more than any other person; yet he was always caring about anyone else perception of him, always noticing eyes on him. However, Kenma never looks back, never looks at anyone directly that he didn’t have to look at.
So when Kuroo saw his friend on the lunch table, looking in front of him every few minutes with an unusual look, he was confused.
Kenma usually spends his lunchtime playing, if it wasn’t for Kuroo he would even forget to eat, so it’s no wonder than the captain wants to know what is grabbing the attention of his best friend.
He followed Kenma’s gaze once he lift his eyes up, finding you laughing with your friends. He has seen you before, you were in the same class as Kenma and sat behind him. You also seemed to enjoy volleyball and gaming as much as his friend, as he has seen you in their volleyball matches wearing a well love Legend of Zelda hoodie. He looks at you again, you were hearing whatever your friend was telling you with a smile on your face, before he looks back at Kenma, his eyes shining in a very particular way
“Do you know her?” Kuroo asks his friend, making him come out of his small trance
“Yn? Yeah, she’s my classmate” he answers back again with his nonchalant expression
“I meant it as actually knowing her, talking to her” he insist, seeing a faint blush on his friend face
“Yeah, she’s nice”
“She has to be more than nice for you to be so unsubtle with your heart eyes for her”
“I’m not…looking at her like that” he mumbles with a mixture of annoyance and shyness, as he hides his face in the scarf around his neck. Kuroo smirks at his friend response, not believing anything that comes out of his mouth, especially when Kenma lifts his eyes towards you again only to find out that you were looking at him too. Kuroo laughs out loud now as the both of you blush, putting a hand on Kenma’s shoulder
“Well, I don’t think you’re the only one with heart eyes” he says encouraging only to receive a glare from Kenma, a useless glare considering how red he is. His friend is definitely in love.
Osamu
Osamu is not concentrating as he should be in this practice match. He knows it, Atsumu has pointed out, Kita also remind him that they were playing several times, and now even the coach is pointing it out, scolding him for not taking this practice match seriously.
But it’s not his fault, Osamu thinks to himself, how it’s he supposed to concentrate when you are in the bleachers watching the match alongside your friends? How is he supposed to not look at you when you look so cute being all excited every time they score a point?
However, he doesn’t really understand why he is so unable to focus. Normally when you want to impress someone you would try your hardest to be better than normal, trying to stand out for them to notice. So how come his brain decided to do the exact opposite? Not only he was failing his serves miserably, but also he has unable to stop looking at you, resulting in him pathetically failing at receiving some of the easiest serves.
“Oi” Atsumu calls him once the coach finished talking “What the hell is wrong with ya?! Ya suck!”
“Eh?” Osamu looks at him back “I don’t suck, maybe yer’re the problem, dontcha think?”
“Me?! Ya know damn well I ain’t the problem here!” Atsumu throws him a ball, however he can catch it quite easily “What are ya even looking at?!”
“I think I know” says Suna smirking, looking in your direction and making him look at you too. Atsumu also follows his brother gaze, noticing how Osamu’s eyes change slightly when you lock eyes with him “What is it Samu? You like- Oi, listen to me”
Osamu is listening to everything, however he can’t seem to process any words coming out of his friends mouth, only focusing on you…until he received a slap on the back of his head
“Oi, stop eyeing them like they’re a piece of snack, ya fucking weirdass, she ain’t food” Atsumu says this time. Weird? Was he being weird? Osamu doesn’t know if you find it weird or not, but he does know that he doesn’t like Atsumu calling him out like that
“The fuck? I don’t do that, I don’t know what yer’re talking about” he says defensively, a useless attempt, really
“Ya liar! Ya haven’t stop looking at her this whole time!” Atsumu says again “No wonder ya have no fans, yer’re a weirdo”
“I’m not! Shut ya trap, ya asshat!” he says, feeling a slight hotness in his face
“Whatever, I will not allow ya to be useless right now” Atsumu says simply, walking towards the fence where you were standing “Oi! Yn-chan! Will ya go out with Osamu later?!”
He screams at you, making you blush and look back at Osamu, who also has a red face. Despite being embarrassed, you nod your head, receiving a bunch lf teasing remarks from your friends as Atsumu comes back to the team
“What was that for?!” Osamu screams at his brother
“There, got ya a date with her. Now, if ya keep playing bad I’ll ask the coach to replace ya” Atsumu answers, clearly too focus on the match to notice that he help his brother to have a date with the girl he likes
Osamu scoff slightly annoyed, however, it fully sinks in once he saw your happy, blushed face while Suna pats his back. He has a date with you, and he was excited for that, but now he has a practice match to focus on
Sakusa
“So like…Do you like her or something?” he hears Komori say besides him, making him turn his head towards him, a confused expression on his face. Who was Komori talking about?
“Why would you think that? How could you think that?” Sakusa asks. He seriously doesn’t get from where his cousin gain that idea, it’s not like he was doing anything in particular
“Because you keep staring at her like you’re in love or something” Komori says, pointing with his head to where you were, sitting on the other side of the classroom. Oh
Oh.
Everything suddenly just… clicked into Sakusa’s head, he was looking at you this whole time, your presence so relaxing that he didn’t even notice that he was staring at you. But then again, you always have manage to change his behaviors a little.
He recalls meeting you for a group project in where the teachers assigned the groups, and since you two where the only ones doing the job, he ended up finding you pleasant to be with. You two started to do homework together, which turn into you befriending Komori too, which somehow turn into you sometimes joining them for lunch or going to cheer them on their practice.
Soon enough your presence went from pleasant to likeable, which lead into him going to you from time to time. He didn’t understood a part of the lesson? He demanded you explain it to him. He received way too many gifts by his annoying fans? You’re the only person he even offers some of them before throwing them away. He was annoyed or anxious by the loud room? He always tries to find you there to feel at ease, because you always seem to find a way to calm him down. Like now, that you felt his eyes on you, which made you smile warmly to him, making all his worries disappear.
Komori was right. He’s in love with you.
He doesn’t even answer his cousin before standing up and going to your sit, with you receiving him with a playful yet worried smile.
“My practice ends at 6.00 pm today, wait for me” He says, it wasn’t an order but also wasn’t a question
“Yeah, I’ve nothing to do, thanks for asking” you say sarcastically, making him roll his eyes “Sure, I’ll wait. What for?”
“You’ll know later” he says before going back to his -smirking- cousin. It took him long enough to realize his feelings for you, he wasn’t going to take any longer to confess.
#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu fluff#hq x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#kenma x reader#kenma x y/n#kenma imagine#kenma x you#kenma fluff#kenma hcs#osamu scenarios#osamu headcanons#osamu x reader#osamu x y/n#osamu x you#osamu fluff#osamu hcs#haikyuu osamu#sakusa imagines#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa x you#sakusa x y/n#sakusa x reader#sakusa fluff#sakusa hcs#sakusa headcanons
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Call me Yours – N.S
Pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader
Summary: You’re in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio. How ironic.
Word count: 2,3k.
Content: NSFW minors dni, no crash!AU, cursing, arguing, jealousy, makeout session, thigh riding, slightly toxic behavior?? but it wouldn't be a yellowjacket relationship if it weren't just a little.
Note: Is it a secret relationship?? Friends with benefits??? I don't know man but they’re horny.
English is not my first language.
You're in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio.
There is a party going on outside, students filling the rooms of Lottie's house with loud generic music playing in the background, but the small room you two were locked in remained silent, too silent.
“See ya’ in 7 minutes, ladies!” Van's mocking voice cuts through the air, but a knife could have done the same; the blonde snorts and you roll your eyes, fixing your gaze somewhere in the darkness so you don't have to face her.
“Ugh, how old does she think we are?” Natalie hisses, you can feel her eyes on your face, even though you can't see much more than the outline of her body at the moment.
You say nothing, arms crossed over your chest and a frown covering your face, Nat tries again:
“I didn’t even want to come to this stupid party.”
“I get it,” you bite, just because you know her well enough to guess that she won’t stop complaining until she gets something out of you, “I get that you don’t want to be here, Natalie.”
She must finally realize how mad you are – mad at her – at the sound of her full name instead of the nickname that always seemed to be on the tip of your tongue, because you swear you can hear her teeth chattering when she shuts her mouth.
With a growl of frustration, you let your head hit the wall with a thud. Great, your night was already being shit, the last thing you needed was to end up playing 7 minutes in heaven with the person who was the cause of your bad mood. Simply amazing.
You see, Natalie had been acting weird for days now, randomly avoiding your company and acting like she didn't know you in the school hallways and being really rude to you during practice. Now, this might even be normal and acceptable behavior from the quiet blonde if you were anyone else, but you weren't. You are her girlfriend.
Are? Were? You don't know for sure anymore given the way she's been acting lately.
Maybe it wouldn't have made you so angry – confused? Yes. Sad? Definitely, but not angry like that – if it weren't for today, for the party.
You had planned to meet Nat at Lottie's party and corner her to finally make her explain what the hell is wrong, dammit, because one afternoon you're smoking with your girlfriend and friends quietly in the basement and the next she's throwing you daggers with her glance every time you open your mouth around her. Anyway, that's what you were going to do, until you found her in the Matthews' giant kitchen leaning against the counter with a cup of beer in her hand and Kevyn Tan practically throwing himself at her, keeping an arm full of spike bracelets wrapped around her shoulders and face with heavy makeup too close to hers to be considered friendly, drooling for Nat like he's always done since you've known about his existence.
Now that really pissed you off.
Who does that sad, emo, pitiful boy think he is to touch your girlfriend like that? And why is she letting him?
You think she could feel you fuming as you stared at them from the door, because the next second she lifted her head and looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights, as if she knew exactly that she was doing something she shouldn't have.
Screw it, you thought, if she'd rather act like you didn't matter anymore, then fine. You won't be standing just watching.
You turned around and only managed to disappear around the house for the next half hour before Taissa appeared with a tired frown and practically dragged you to where the group had gathered with an empty bottle, because Van and Jackie wanted to play something – 'If I'm in this, then you’re too!’ – and well, fuck.
You two have been completely quiet for almost a whole minute and that it's eating you alive; Nat has always handled silence well, you haven't.
Fidgeting with the hem of your own shirt angrily, you huff and give up on the tough act, the blonde straightens up when she hears your footsteps approaching her.
"What is happening?" Your voice comes out in a shamefully desperate tone, “Why are you acting like this with me? What did I do?"
You can see her now, being so close and now used to the dark; her fists are clenched, Natalie keeps her eyes fixed on your figure. For a moment, you think she's going to keep her cold facade and avoid your question with some sarcastic response, she most likely considered it, from the way her mouth opens and closes for a quick moment.
She turns her face to the side, trying to hide, but you can see the difference in tone in the paleness of her skin anyway. Oh, she's embarrassed.
“Nat?”
She mumbles something you don't understand, then your curiosity gives way to the anger and your hands find her face, turning it so Natalie is looking at you.
"What was this?" You ask again, softly this time.
“You called me your girlfriend.” She spits it out fast as if it were just a single sentence, rolling her eyes at your confused face, “You called me your girlfriend to everyone when we were smoking after practice last week.”
Oh, you remember that, when Jackie decided to lecture you all about the smell of smoke that lingered on her clothes after she and Shauna decided to tag along on one of your hangouts with Lottie, Van and Tai, turning up her nose and talking about how you all – and especially Nat – should stop with this habit. ‘Jackie, stop bothering my girlfriend!’, that’s what you said. Is that what made you spend a whole week grounded in the doghouse?
“...And isn’t that what we are?” You try, unsure. This conversation is not taking a very pleasant turn toward a reconciliation.
Nat bites hard her bottom lip, you can see her struggling with the next words:
“It’s just… no one was supposed to know.”
“Oh,” you mutter pathetically, sounding very much like a wounded puppy, “So that’s the problem.”
You're in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio. How ironic.
You can tell she regrets it the moment she says it, grabbing your hands in hers as you pull away.
“No, no, I’m sorry. I– I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How did you meant that then?” Your initial anger and frustration return with a vengeance, you move forward until Nat's back hits a shelf in the small room.
Natalie always does this. Avoid anything that labels your relationship as real; calling your dates ‘hangouts’, not touching you when there are people around, leaving your house before you wake up in the morning, avoiding kisses and caresses that don't initiate anything sexual, calling you ‘friend’ when you can see that the whole team knows this is not all you two are.
Still, – still – she always shows up at your house when she's upset; she doesn't like it when you miss your 'hangouts'; always stays close to you wherever you are together; gets mad when she sees you talking to other girls, even if they are nothing more than classmates; leaves marks all over your body, but doesn't let you do the same, spots and more spots all over your neck that are impossible to cover. People know that you're dating, they just don't know that you're dating Natalie.
And then she gets mad at you for finally putting a name to whatever this is and starts avoiding you completely, even though it's been months since it all started and you've known each other for years.
Nat gasps when your hands find her waist with a firm grip, bringing your lips closer to her ear:
“I’m gonna make you want me to be your girlfriend.”
You swear you feel the shiver that runs through her body. Nat smells like cigarettes and mint gum and it tastes the same when your mouth meets hers.
Her arms are around your neck before she's even processed what's happening, black painted nails playing with the hair on the back of your neck like it's second nature – and it is.
The way Natalie tilts her head to deepen the kiss and bites your lip hard when your hands come up to caress the skin under her shirt says your actions are much appreciated.
The husky, needy moan that escapes your throat when you realize she's braless, palming and massaging her soft skin brings a cocky smile to her face, she sighs, breaking the kiss and letting her head fall back against the shelf in satisfaction.
Nat doesn't moan, not like you do. She seems to want to hold back as much as possible, taking all kinds of reactions from you and your body, but not giving the pleasure of having the same from her. You want to change this.
You let your mouth roam from her strong jaw to her pale neck, leaving wet kisses, bites, and marks. Many marks. You bite the thin skin in different spots, soothing the bite with your tongue, hoping for the spots to form and stay there for days, for everyone to see.
You lazily slide a knee between her legs when you feel Natalie try to turn you around to take control. You usually let her do it, but not today. She squeals in surprise and pleasure, hips instantly grinding against you.
“Nah-ah, Nat,” you cut, bringing a hand down to slow the pace of her hips, “I guess you shouldn’t take anything today, or do you think I forgot about how much you paid attention to that little emo bastard earlier, huh?”
“You hate him that much, huh?” She tries to say in a mockery tone, wanting to turn the tables again, but it sounds pathetic as her voice breaks later in the last words.
“Yes,” you say easily, leaving a lingering kiss on her shoulder, finding her pulse point, “He was touching you. Touching my girlfriend.”
You bite down hard on the skin when Natalie turns her head to grant access and she moans, actually moans, fuck, you did it. A full sound, loud enough to make your pupils dilate until your irises almost disappear. This, this sound, you want to hear this forever.
It's been more than seven minutes, you think, or maybe our discussion was just really quick. You wonder if you would have time to take one of her breasts into your mouth, feeling the way she rolls her eyes and thrusts her hips against your thigh, now free from your hands, when you roll her nipples hard between your fingers.
She sighs as she receives another kiss from you, much softer now, more affectionate, feeling her hand tracing circles on your cheek.
A quick, loud knock on the door startles you both, making Nat jump and bang her head against one of the shelves behind her and knock something over, “Fuck!” She screams and you instinctively reach for her head to check for injuries.
You look at the source of the knock, it's definitely not Van calling, she would have opened the door at once just to laugh at your faces.
“Girls, time is over!” Jackie's voice sings on the other side.
“Ugh,” Natalie grunts, clearly frustrated at being interrupted so abruptly, she takes the opportunity to finally take a look at the closet as you head towards the door, “Is this some kind of pantry?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Rich people have so many random rooms scattered around their houses.”
There are loud whistles and jeers as you leave, half the football team gathered in the busy room and giving you knowing looks, you give Van the finger when she points out the traces of dark lipstick on your mouth.
“Were you guys actually going to fuck in there?” She teases, arching an eyebrow with a smirk.
You open your mouth to retort – probably with something stupid – but Natalie is quicker:
“Fuck off Van, stop bothering my girlfriend.”
Van gives up the provocation, raising her arms in surrender and Nat rolls her eyes as if she hadn't said anything important, but you're absolutely frozen, listening to your heart beating rapidly against your ears.
Natalie looks back when she notices you standing still and snorts in amusement at your reaction, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you with her.
“C’mon,” she says, “Let’s go, silly, I got something to do–”
“Move!” Jackie interrupts with an anxious tone, pushing you gently by the shoulder and bouncing on her heels, “It’s our turn.”
You catch a glimpse of Shauna standing shyly behind her like a shadow being dragged to the closet and Jeff sitting on the floor with the rest of his classmates with the most confused and defeated expression you've ever seen as Nat hurriedly guides you out.
When you're about to get into her car, Natalie surprises you, grabbing your waist with her cold hands and pressing you against the door, hungry eyes fixed on your form.
“I–” you stutter nervously, “I thought we were going home?”
Natalie nods.
“We are,” she agrees, “I just have to do you first.”
Well, maybe your night won't end as bad as you thought it would.
#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets#nat scatorccio x reader#natalie scatorccio x reader#nat scatorccio#nat yellowjackets#denwrites
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photographed memories ― s. rintaro
# tags gender neutral rdr, fluff, pre-timeskip, 4+1 trope, getting tg # notes another suna fic someone save me. wc 2.9k
we don’t need the memories.
rintaro had always hated inarizaki’s motto.
he thinks he always will, even if he knows its intention: to encourage students to forget past hardships and strive towards a better future.
it only makes him dislike it more.
memories were what made a human a person. they decided how one would think, act, and speak — how does that not make them important? it was ridiculous to believe that the essence of one’s being was considered insignificant.
adversity served as a reminder of how one can improve. pleasure allowed people to look back on their lives without regrets. rintaro thought neither should be wiped away, even in the name of improving.
when he expressed this opinion to his teammates, he was met with various forms of confusion. atsumu had even said that the reason why rintaro felt so strongly about a school motto of all things was that he was a sentimental person.
and while rintaro hates to agree with miya atsumu of all people, it was a hard claim to deny — especially when his statement made him increasingly aware of the camera in his pocket.
(still, he took the setter into a headlock, encouraging osamu to harshly run his knuckles along his twin’s head while ignoring his incessant cries of pain.)
“suna,” you hummed. his eyes flickered over to your place from across the store. you were bent over a pile of cameras, and you were sifting through a few of them. “d’ya wanna get one?”
rintaro’s raised an eyebrow, looking at you curiously. “why would i buy a camera? my phone works perfectly fine for taking photos.”
you shot straight up, spinning on your heel to face him. in your hand was a black digital camera. it was small, a little worn from being used over the years, but appeared to be in otherwise pristine condition.
“that’s exactly why!” you exclaimed, pointing a finger at the camera. “yer phone’ll run outta storage sooner than later. you can dedicate this to photos to keep all yer memories safe!”
“i thought you didn’t care about memories?” he bristles.
“i don’t,” you bluntly reply, “but i know ya do.”
rintaro’s heart beats a little faster. he fights the tinge of pink threatening to cover his ears away by pure will alone. then, he stalks towards you to snatch the camera you’re holding, paying no mind to your shrill hey! ya could’a ask!
he inspects the camera for a few seconds, feeling its weight in his hands. while there are a few scratches along the camera, it turns on perfectly fine. rintaro looks through the screen while aiming it at random items in the thrift shop the two of you dragged him into. the quality is pretty good, too, he notes. it’s not the best — a little blurry at the edges, but he appreciates the vintage look the lens provides.
the camera unfocuses when he aims it at you. when it refocuses, rintaro watches you flick through old vinyl records. they’re stacked on a dinky desk and are probably as old as the camera he’s holding, but the glimmer in your eyes tells him that you’ve just hit the jackpot. you’re not paying attention to him or the camera, allowing him to click the shutter button without anyone but him knowing. the sound of the shutters closing is rather loud and catches him off guard — he fears you heard it too.
when you don’t react, rintaro lets out a silent sigh of relief.
he buys the camera the same day.
late-night convenience store runs were a staple in you and rintaro’s friendship. the both of you had a bad habit of staying up way too late into the night, and when it turned out that you only lived a few blocks from each other, midnight adventures spent buying snacks did as well.
your eyes raked down the assortment of snacks on the shelves. rintaro stood behind you, playing a random game on his phone with his food in hand.
“hey, suna?” you say, turning to the brunette. his eyes meet yours, half-lidded and bored.
“can you not pick something?” he questions, standing up to his full height. while you whine a bit in response, you quickly remember what you were thinking of.
“yes, but that's not the point! i was thinkin’, wouldn't this be a cute place to have a photoshoot in?” you reply. your thumb juts toward the shelves full of snacks, a small grin adorning your face.
rintaro’s face contorts into a mix of confusion and judgment, so intense that you cringe a little. even after knowing him for a while, you don't think you'll ever get used to it.
“you just don't understand the vision!” you exclaim, “c’mon, do ya have yer camera?”
he nods in reply, but you can still see faint hints of confusion. still, rintaro pulls the digital camera from his hoodie to show you. what he doesn't expect you to do, though, is pluck the device from his palm and practically shove him towards the aisle. he nearly trips into the shelf but stabilizes himself at the last moment.
the smile on your face only widens at his look of surprise, cheeky and teasing in a way he recognizes only you're capable of.
“pose!” you usher him, the camera covering a portion of your face. he doesn't listen, giving you the most deadpan and uninterested look he can muster. it comes easy to him, considering how it’s already nearing early morning.
you giggle at the photo, before pulling rintaro away and handing him his camera. the look of confusion returns, and you bristle at him.
“ya gotta take a photo of me, stupid.” you tease.
rintaro frowns. “i'm not gonna if you keep on treating me like this,” he chides. when you shriek, the corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly. he raises the camera.
when he takes the shot, your hair is mostly covered by the hood on your head. your smile is childish, and he can see a peek of your tongue. your hands have come up beside you in matching peace signs. the yellow lights of the store only accentuate the old quality of the camera, and don’t do you justice, but a voice at the back of suna’s head tells him that you look beautiful either way.
he ignores it, opting to push past you to grab items off the shelf for you. your whines follow him to the cash register, where he tosses the items down — your favorites. he rolls his eyes when you cheer, throwing the food at you.
rintaro has only owned the camera for a few weeks, but he's already made it a habit to always carry it on him. you were, unfortunately, right — he definitely liked using the dinky device more for taking photos than he did on his phone.
he still used it, of course. he wouldn't want to waste precious space on the camera filming the miya twins’ fights. but there was a particular way the camera managed to capture life; freezing memories perfectly in time, allowing no detail to be missed, even with the old quality of the images.
“d’ya think they’re gonna wake up soon?” atsumu whispers to his brother. osamu takes a moment to respond, observing you and his friend.
“dunno. it's gettin’ late though,” the grey-haired twin notes. he stands carefully, making sure that he doesn't make any sudden loud noises. when the floorboards creak under his weight, he cringes.
“ooh!” atsumu excitedly exclaims. “i wanna take a picture of ‘em. can ya check if sunarin has his digi…thing?”
osamu rolls his eyes but glances through their friend’s belongings anyway to check. he's able to make out the faint outline of the camera and makes quick work of taking it from suna’s pocket.
“it's a digital camera, dumbass. n’ here. what're ya gonna use it fer?” he questions.
a sinister smile grows on the blonde’s face as he takes the camera in hand. the light from the tv is enough to make out the sleeping figures of you and rintaro, your head peacefully resting on his shoulder. his rests on top of yours and your limbs are tangled together. the two of you close — in all forms of the word — and it would be easy to assume that you were trying to fuse into one. the movie playing in the background becomes white noise atsumu clicks the shutter button without hesitation.
the flash goes off.
“oh shit!” the blonde almost yells, flinching at the bright light. osamu’s eyes widen, and he cusses at his brother. a beat of silence passes through the twins, their eyes trained on you and rintaro in fear.
they watch as rintaro’s eye twitches, and they share a mutual look of terror before his face returns to normal. osamu sighs, and atsumu carefully places the camera back into its rightful place. the blonde drags his twin to their room soon after.
when morning comes, rintaro makes quick and careful work of untangling himself from you. he watches as the sunlight hits your face perfectly, forming what might as well be a halo around your figure. he wouldn’t be surprised.
he rubs the sleep from his eyes while unlocking his phone. the first notification is a text — rintaro doesn’t see who it's from, mindlessly swiping to open it.
from atsumu:
hope ya enjoyed ur sleep with ur girl. check ur camera thing
to atsumu:
you're so dead
it’s the first photo he flicks to whenever he misses you, which is embarrassingly often for someone who lives only a few blocks away. he thinks it might be his favorite — not just of you, because he thinks any photo of you is his favorite at this point, but of him. once he’s able to inspect the photo, he notes the strange look of serenity he has. rintaro doesn’t think he can chalk it up to a peaceful sleep — not when there’s an almost love-sick look to him, even when unconscious.
rintaro doesn’t dare to voice his thoughts out loud, but he thinks he looks the best with you.
you had always loved the sky.
this was a fact rintaro had known for as long as he had known you. more often than not, when you had nothing else to do, you would tip your head upwards, eyes adoring the endless scene in front of you.
and once he’d known you for longer, when he’d gotten used to your sporadic invitations to go out at ungodly hours of the night, rintaro also learned of your love for the stars.
in a way, he thought it was different from how you saw the sky.
if you admired the sky — thought it provided you with inspiration for something rintaro didn’t know of, looked at it as if it gave you an infinite amount of opportunities (because it did, according to you), then your relationship with the stars was much more intimate.
you gazed at the lights scattered across the night sky like you’d known them for years. maybe you did, rintaro thinks. he believes that you’d spend hours looking at the stars if you could — having a silent conversation with them as if they were an old friend. sometimes, you’d point out different constellations to him and explain their stories. he would listen, of course, but never truly understand.
and while you conversed with orion and told jokes to lyra, rintaro busied himself with you.
he slipped the black digital camera from its place in his pocket — it was practically the device’s home, with how often it was found there. turning it on as quietly as possible, rintaro brought the screen closer to his face so he could capture you in your entirety. like the photo he took the day he bought the camera, you paid no attention to him, too immersed in your silent conversation with the stars above. he allows himself to admire you through the lens for a moment before clicking the shutter button.
the sound snaps you from your daze.
“hey!” you shriek, “did ya jus’ take a photo of me?”
rintaro snickers. “what else do you think i did?”
“i probably looked so bad,” you whine, “ya need’a delete it, please!” a pout forms on your lips, making the brunette feel just a little bad.
the next thing rintaro says slips from his mouth before he’s able to catch it.
“i’m not gonna,” he hums, “but if it helps, you look pretty in it.”
you freeze once you hear his words, and rintaro wants to slap himself. maybe he’d even ask atsumu to do it for him — only the gods know how badly the blonde wants to. his fingers drum nervously against his thigh, and he shifts his focus onto the stars above him. he thinks they’re laughing at him.
“i think yer pretty, too, suna.” you mumble, falling back onto the soft grass.
rintaro looks at you in surprise. you’re no longer gazing at him, too enraptured with whatever the constellations may be telling you now. he doesn’t know if he should be grateful or not. he stays silent, butterflies swarming in his stomach.
if you were to ask rintaro what his favorite photo of all time was, he wouldn’t have an immediate answer.
he has dozens — maybe even hundreds — of photos that he likes. there are some of his friends, like the horrendous photo of osamu drooling in his sleep or of kita scolding atsumu. he knows he has a few of his sister throughout her life, from her first days of school to stupid .5 photos taken from the top of her head. there are some of him sprinkled throughout his camera roll, too. rintaro remembers the selfie he took after he let his sister mess with his hair — colorful hairbands and different clips adorned the strands, though his face was less than cheerful. he knows he has a photo of himself after he’d accidentally taken atsumu’s serve to the face. a large welt was present on his cheek, red seeping through the wound.
he has photos of you, too. of course, he has less-than-great ones, like when you fell asleep on the bus ride home, or any of the moments he captured you off-guard. there’s the photo he took of you looking at the stars and the one he took of you posing in front of the snack shelf at your local convenience store.
rintaro is a self-assured person — confident in both himself and his abilities. so, even if it’d take him a minute or two, he knows what he’d say if someone asked him what his favorite photo was.
the picture isn’t the clearest. it’s blurry, and you can hardly make out the faces of the people who are in it, even though the flash is on. for the most part, you can only see that there are two people in it, their faces smushed close together.
you took it the day he confessed to you — it was an awkward confession, and he tripped over his words a few times, but it was everything and more to you.
promptly after his un-planned confession, there was an ominous pause between your bodies. it made rintaro’s stomach drop, eyes skidding around to focus on everything and anything but you. what he didn’t see during that time, though, was the fond smile that stretched along your face — an obvious expression of your feelings and the answer to his admission.
rintaro missed the way your arms shot out to find solace around his shoulders to pull him down, too. the kiss was clumsy, your teeth clashing with his. you giggled throughout it, and rintaro felt his lips turn upwards to smile into the kiss.
he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
the photograph came after many other kisses were shared. you were both unsure how to take the perfect picture, as you weren’t able to see yourselves through the lens — resulting in the poor execution of the shot.
“i’m starting to think you just wanted a reason to kiss me more,” he mumbles against your lips. you laugh, but don’t answer — holding the black camera out instead, your arm shaking as you attempt to find the right angle. rintaro only glances at the lens of his camera, putting the entirety of his focus back onto you.
he lets out an amused sigh, pressing forward to meet you.
the shutter closes and the flash goes off, but neither of you flinch. the camera drops from your hand onto rintaro’s bed, coming to cup his face instead. you push further, deepening the kiss. rintaro doesn’t complain, his arms looping around your figure to pull you closer to him.
“this photo is so shitty,” he teases, finally looking at the picture. his lips are red and swollen, and yours are in a similar state. your bottom lip juts out in a dramatic pout, and you look over his shoulder at the photo. he’s right, but you’d rather be deprived of water than admit defeat. you lightly slap your boyfriend’s chest, laughing at the high-pitched whine he lets out.
even if it's a shitty photo, it’s still rintaro’s favorite. he knows the photo doesn’t do either of you well — you can hardly even tell its you and him in it, much less what you’re doing. still, it’s a moment rintaro will never forget; a memory that he’ll always keep close to him.
when atsumu had said that rintaro hates their school’s motto because he’s a sentimental person, rintaro figured there was some truth to it. he sees it in the way that he wouldn’t let anything get in the way between him and the memories you’ve shared.
#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu fluff#hq fluff#suna x reader#suna fluff#suna rintarou x reader#suna rintarou fluff#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintaro fluff
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Hi! I am so grateful you came across my feed! You also have an incredibly extensive prompt list which is amazing btw. Could I please get a 104 and 75 with Azriel?? I have been wanting to see how they would do with a fairy, considering they are like the opposite of a bat. They’re light and airy, gorgeous wings. Illyrian wings are gorgeous too but in a dark way and I think the contrast is cool without having to make them an angel. Ya know? Thank you if you end up doing it!
Thank you so much and thank you for the request! My prompt list is left over from an event I did when I hit 100 followers and I just kept adding to it. I love the idea of the difference in their wings. Because the books have already explored a few different types of wings and I think fairy wings are absolutely gorgeous.
The reader is half High Fae, half fairy.
Hope you like it! <3
Warning: Unwelcome touching (not by Azriel), Smut (18+), protective Az!!!!
WC: ~1.7k
Divider by @cafekitsune
My wings had always been something I was immensely proud of, sure they weren’t the stark white feathered covered ones from Day or the gorgeous bat-like wings from the Illyrains but you loved them. Translucent but pink iridescent, the membrane golden in color. Compared to my stature, short by fae standards, they easily were half of my height.
When I moved from the Spring Court to Night, I remember feeling slightly self-conscious about them. Before the mating bond had snapped, Azriel had spent many nights reassuring me how beautiful he thought they were. How they made me special. I would sniffle into his neck, “But they let everyone know I’m only half High Fae.” He would hold my head in his hands and try not to laugh at the absurd concern. “So is Rhys, so is Cassian. Most High Fae are. That’s not a bad thing.” Light kisses were pressed to my face, “If anything it makes you more special. Something no other High Fae has.” His words calmed my raging mind. Once the mating bond had snapped, he really began to worship them. He was the first person I had let touch them. The both of us learned they truly were as sensitive as his own. It became something he could tease me with, only in the privacy of our bedroom. One touch and I would melt into his touch.
Now, I stood in the middle of the throne room at Hewn City. Dress in midnight blue, the same exact shade as my mates siphons. The floor length gown is skin tight and the velvet was smooth under my fingers as I tried to smooth it out.
I fidgeted slightly out of nerves. I had refused the first time Rhys offered to glamour them away, they were too much a part of who I was for me to hide them even in this vile place. But I still felt very exposed around this many unfamiliar faces.
Azriel had stepped away to join the conversation Rhys was currently having with Keir. Placing a small kiss on my temple as he walked away, “Have fun, sweetheart.” I instantly started looking for Mor, desperate for some semblance of comfort.
I found her on the dance floor. I gave her a low bow, hand extended which she returned with a perfect curtsey. I took her hand and we began to weave through the other couples as we waltzed around the ballroom, her head thrown back with laughter.
A pair of hands on my hips swept me out of her grasp. I let out a startled cry, expecting to be met with my favorite pair of hazel eyes. The male that had grabbed me was certainly not Azriel nor anyone I noticed. I could smell the faerie wine on his breath as he spoke in my ear, “What pretty wings.” I thanked him, my voice getting stuck like gum in my throat. I tried to pull the unknown male's hands off of my hips, even to just push them up to my waist but he just dug his hands in tighter. I yelped at the pressure and he just gave me a cocky smirk.
“I know how sensitive Illyrian wings are, and given the shadowslingers scent all over you, I bet you do too,” He laughed at my shocked expression, “I wonder if these are just as sensitive.” By this time, we had stopped dancing. I stood frozen, bile turned my stomach as he reached a grimy hand up to stroke the edge of my wings. His rough touch made me chirp in pain, he had pitched the fragile membrane between his nails and dragged them down.
He went to repeat the motion again when I felt the heat of him disappear entirely. When I looked around for him, I saw large black wings in front of my face. The male that had been touching me was pinned to the dance floor. Azriel’s heavy boots, holding him there by his neck. The male was desperately clutching at his leg, trying to pull him off. Azriel scoffed.
“Doesn’t feel so good to have someone touch you when you don’t want them to?” He pressed down a little harder, the muscles twitching in his leg.
“Now, if you ever think about touching my mate, or anyone else, without their expressed interest,” His hand went to rest on truth-teller’s hilt. “You will find yourself without hands.” He lifted his leg off the male's neck and didn’t spare him a glance as he grabbed my hand and started leading me out of the ballroom.
People jumped out of our way and I didn’t even think of saying anything to him as I felt his fury down the bond. Not at me, never at me. But for not being there to stop the hands I could still feel on my wings. He pulled us into a room, no, a closet, and I could almost make out the shape of him from the light that snuck along the frame.
“Did he hurt you?” He asked sternly. Fae Lights flickered on, giving the room a soft glow. I shook my head and he let out a heavy exhale. He placed his forehead against mine and we just stood there as both of our breathing evened out
“Az, you didn’t have to do all of that.” I finally spoke blushing, the dim lights of the room doing nothing to protect me from his gaze.
“You don’t understand, I will do anything to protect you.” The solemnity of those words made my heart lurch and heat pool in my stomach.
“I don’t know whether to be scared or turned on.” His laugh echoed in his chest.
“Look at my dirty girl,” He started kissing down my neck, “Does seeing me defend you turn you on?” I whimpered when his tongue started following his kisses.
“I don’t know, you’re the one that dragged me into a literal closet.” He growled lightly.
“Be nice, sweet girl.” Chiding me, I felt desire and defiance flood my veins.
“Bite me.”
“With pleasure.” He all but purred in my ear and he was on me. His lips captured mine. Teeth captured my lower lip when I moaned into his mouth. His tongue explored my mouth, brushing against the roof of my mouth and my legs turned into jelly. He hiked my leg up to rest on his waist, using the hand on my back to stabilize me. Trailing up my leg with his free hand.
“Fuck” He groaned when he reached the center of my thighs. Blood flowed to my cheeks. I was soaked. He didn’t waste anymore time before he slipped my panties to the side. I cried out as deft fingers found my clit and started rubbing tight, fast circles.
My hands started to trail down to reach for his waistband but his shadows pinned my arms to my side.
“Let me make you feel good, my love.” I moaned at his words. My moans instantly broke into a scream as I felt two of his fingers plunge into me. He curled against the rough spot and I panted out his name.
“Az…Please, I need more.” I begged him. He just started to kiss my neck again, sucking what I knew would be angry bruises. His kisses started to trail lower, his shadows once again helping him as they slid the top of my dress down to expose my breasts. My hands went to his hair as he wrapped his lips around my nipple. Sucking the perfect amount of pressure, mixed with his fingers pistoning in and out of me. I felt myself fall apart under him. My climax racked through me hard, I sagged against his hand still on my back.
“There you go. Good girl.” He praised me. I expected his hand to pull away but he kept working me through waves of pleasure. I whined, “Too much. Az.” I panted out the words, chest quickly rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath.
“Can you give me one more?” His kisses started trailing lower and he unwrapped my leg from his waist. I was going to say something but it got lost on my tongue as he started to sink to his knees. He began to trail kisses up my leg as he went to throw my foot over his shoulder.
He placed one of my hands on his head, my fingers instantly grabbing his soft locks.
“Hold on princess.” Was the only warning I received before he dove in between my legs. I mewled at the pressure his lips sucked around my clit, still sensitive from my last orgasm. Broken versions of his name left my mouth and I tried to stop my hips from bucking. He used his free hand to guide my hips, letting me ride his face. It didn’t take long for him to have me at the edge. My eyes squeezed shut, white spotting the black behind my eyelids as he gave my clit a soft nip. That was enough to have my orgasm crashing over me. This time, my knees did buckle out from under me but Azriel’s hands were there instantly to hold me up.
I blinked up at him. He was the picture of male satisfaction as he took in my glassy eyes. I once again went to reach for his pants but he pushed my hands away with a chuckle.
“Later. I promise.” He said when I pouted at him. “Two isn’t enough for you, sweet girl?” I shook my head and he really laughed at that. He stood back up and smoothed out the lines in his suit. He helped me adjust my dress back into place. My hair was a lost cause, as well as my smudged makeup. He pressed a bruising kiss to my lips and when he pulled away he whispered in my ear
“Now we’re going to go back out there, covered in your scent and maybe that will remind people just exactly who they’re messing with from now on.”
#acomaf#acosf#azriel acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar#acowar#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel smut#azriel shadowsinger smut#azriel spymaster#acotar smut#a court of thorns and roses#requested#protective azriel
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Guys, every time I post something about like “you may not realize this but you’re really coming up on a kink here, consider tagging”, as the post escapes my circle I keep getting people coming into my notes like “YEAH I’m sick of those FREAKS in the fandom, get them out” and like that is not what I’m saying at all.
I have been posting things because I think some people aren’t realizing how they’re coming across in some cases, or not realizing that this connection is tropes they’re super into has a specific name. It happened just the other day with someone coming up to me like “wait intox kink is a thing”? And yes. These are all things. There are names for all these things.
I’m posting these things because a) it starts to get rude to take some of these tropes and insist there’s nothing but vanilla posting happening in this fic. In the same way as you wouldn’t show up to work in a bikini there are fic subjects that are rude to drop on people unwarned.
And like, when I hit things I’m not into unwarned there’s a whole spectrum there from raising my eyebrows and continuing to having to click off a fic, but I do not have a moral or ethical problem with people writing family relationships I consider to be suspect. I think you should tag it to be polite but in the same way as I would go Huh about someone coming into my work in a bikini, I think they’ve misread the tone of the room, but they have not committed a mortal sin. I’m not saying that this person who showed up in a bikini is someone we should shun out of the community. God, I have hit legit triggers unwarned for before, and I don’t enjoy that, but I don’t think the person who did this is a terrible person or something. You messed up but you’re still like, fine.
But I’m also posting it because b) knowing that what you’re into has a name can be an experience full of joy. Mortifying? Yes! Especially if you realize that this is a theme through multiple of your works and you had no idea! Ask me about my fucking discovery that I found dubcon interesting and I’d been writing YA novels with romantic interactions structured around uneven power deferentials. I wanted to throw myself into the sea and never write again.
But once I went ohhhhhhh that’s why I found interactions where one person had a dearth of options to be interesting, I could b) not put it in my work unwarned for and not for all audiences c) investigate that theme more fully and decide if I wanted to celebrate it structurally and focus in on it or just include it as a fun highlight d) seek out other works with that tag and see other people exploring that. e) understand the baffling reactions I had going on from people where sometimes I could bring up a story and it would go well and sometimes they would hate it and it seemed random? Connected to Whump? Me trying to do romance was bad? No, it turns out one of my friends hates consent issues and I think they’re fun. You know how much easier that made interactions with that friend?
Like, part of the posting I have been doing is because there are tropes you don’t bring up in polite company. Incest is one of them. Consent issues. Daddy kink. If I was doing these things and putting them in the platonic tag, I would want to be warned that I was doing it. And sometimes the tone of my posts has gotten a bit hysterical because seeing endless waves of this stuff presented as though it’s vanilla can make you feel like you’re in the mirror dimension. *I* know that you shouldn’t be doing that, but everyone around me had shown up to the exam wearing a banana bikini. They are gonna go out into the work world like that. Do they not know? Etc.
But like if you spend enough time with yourself you’ll find you’ve got one or two interests you have to pick the friend group to talk about because people will think they’re weird. Everybody is like this. People are strange and complex. I don’t want to get into pointing and going ahahahahahahah look at that, and I’m sorry if I’ve gone down that path.
I just think that it would be helpful if we use the right words for things occasionally.
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Desmond The Vampire
Yandere monster harem
~meet the characters~
(Picrew didn’t have red eyes so pretend they’re red)
•Like any good 2010’s ya monster movie, you’d meet Desmond next in much a similar fashion as Ayla. After falling asleep on the couch, one of the rare night Ayla was out and not home to carry you to bed or lay on the ground in front of you protectively, you were awoken by a smack against one of the houses almost comically large windows. At first you’d thought it to be a bird but it turns out to be a pretty cute bat. perhaps if you’d been less tired you’d begin to wonder if you were cursed or something and that’s why so many less than normal animals seemed to be falling at your feet…
•The bat, actually a vampire named Des, as he’d requested you call him, was struck by your kindness. Most who had caught a vampire in such a vulnerable position wouldn’t have let them live, never mind invited them in. Even in a town of monsters vampires were considered more monstrous than most. It didn’t matter how many times you (or later Ayla) claimed the only reason you’d taken him in is because you’d thought he was a regular ole bat, he was reverent all the same.
•Des is immediately taken with you, perhaps it’d been the centuries spent alone since his lover from his human days had elected to die instead of becoming like him and how similar you were to his departed love. In a past life he’d respected her decision to control her own fate but it’d been hundreds of years in near solitude without her, he’d changed. He’d swore to keep you near forever at any cost from his very first glance.
•Speaking of becoming a vampire, Des refuses to speak on it. He’ll tell you anything else you wish to know, his life as a human, his life after becoming a vampire, even the actual experience of going from human to vampire but he absolutely refuses to speak about how he became this way and by who. For a nearly indestructible being it seems to be the only thing that still scares him. Well that and the thought of losing the only one who understands him yet again.
•Unlike some other more modern monster he is from a much stricter time. While the thought of putting his coffin in your room or heaven forbid sleeping next to you as the werewolf prefers to do, makes him feel warm and alive. He insists on sleeping in the attic, somewhere he can make completely dark without disturbing you or your life too much. He doesn’t want to force his love on you , he will if he really has to but he’d prefer to court you properly and prove himself worthy of your love and affection.
•Des is not a nice person, he’s been hardened and made cold and cruel by years of scorn from not only humans but his supposed peers to. Of the constant cycle of fear between periods of more silent simmering hate when vampires tried to make peace and outright vampire hunting parties and public burnings when even a single vampire stepped out of line or other started to get threatened by the growing population. He’d survived hundreds of years of these waves, but his humanity largely had not. Truthfully he believed he had none left until meeting you.
•Should you ever offer your own blood to him he’d refuse outright. He’s been a vampire long enough that he can easily control his blood lust and the frenzy that often afflicted younger vampires but he would never take such a chance with something as precious as his love. He’d also never forgive himself if even if it went right that you’d start to fear him, see him as nothing more than a predator. Similarly he’d never let you seem him feed or even covered in any blood. He doesn’t want you to believe he’s only interested in your blood because he really believes that’s the least interesting thing about you. Instead he’d spend as much time as he could listening to you or sitting in content silence just in your presence, anything to just be with you.
#yandere monster harem#yandere vampire#yandere monster#yandere des#Yandere Desmond#yandere#Yandere x reader#Yandere monsters#yandere x darling#Yandere oc’s#yandere x you
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Rook Questionnaire
@emmg yo thanks for the tag! I’m always happy to write too much about Worne. You asked for this k I can’t help but put down the full answer when I have it. I need this raccoon man to find your sewer rat because Nevarra is not good for them. Return him to the streets, get her to the beach, those tombs are freakin me out.
Anyways this is Rook ‘Worne’ Thorne. At this point he’s just Worne lol, I’m going to end up using it in the fic because it’s out of my hands it’s just who he is. Look I don’t plan on writing this info longform so I indulged here since I’m working on lichy epilogue stuff. This is the lovely foundational start I needed today. Enjoy if ya like it’s useful ref for me.
Where in Thedas is your Rook from?
Kirkwall. Specifically Darktown. It was horrible. He misses it dearly.
What is your character’s alignment?
Chaotic Good. He does crimes. They’re good. I’m a sanctioned DM okay I’ll argue this one lol
Race and subclass?
Human Rogue
If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?
The Weisshaupt mission would go through the prisons for a section and he’s in there. Got a stash of books and literally didn’t know what was happening they forgot him in the drunk tank for fucking with the First Warden. One of the cells is considered his, he likes it fine down there. But hell yeah he’s ready to help out the Veilguard and get the fuck out of the Wardens completely. If he didn’t end up there he’s off duty at a bar in Docktown. Or in the thick of it running dangerous missions for Antoine and Evka in Lavendell.
What emotion did they usually pick?
Laughter. Joy. Where he is in life has never been in his control. Mood is his mastery. He’s choosing to chill and smile whenever he can. Life’s tough enough. Leads to a lack of decorum but he’s a very sincere person. Fuck being polite. If we’re talking what I picked in game options it was a mix. He is very kind and incredibly confrontational when needed arises. But he defaults to sincere joy if he can.
What companion are they platonically close with?
Davrin is his brother. They’re constantly picking at each other and ‘fighting’, messing with Lucanis, they have a running game for who can get the most mierdas in a day, and just being a menace to everyone at the Lighthouse when they get going. Rook looks up to Davrin in a way. Mostly because Davrin really is the expert on monster fighting. That’s sick. He also doesn’t hide his jealousy over not being chosen as a griffon ‘bodyguard’, he ‘steals’ Assan for himself plenty and they usually end up breaking something. But he’s pumped for Davrin’s book and steals figurines for a board game he’s designing. Davrin carves more of the same figurines once he notices and he’ll give him guff about it but he’lll still carve more.
They hold regular workouts with Taash and Worne is regularly handed his ass in any kind of martial training. Like Davrin, Taash, Lucanis, Harding…look, Worne’s excuse is his fighting style is brutal and not made for sparring. Like he’s not going to take out your eye here okay? He swears if this was real he’s winning. It’s doubtful. Davrin is his other platonic half but deep bonds are all around the Veilguard pretty quick, they’re family.
Neve is his beloved queen of an older sister, Lucanis is that quietly hilarious guy you’re actually scared of because he could kill you but he’s hopelessly in love with your sister who is too good for him but they make each other better and he better not fuck it up or you’re egging his ridiculous ass mansion daily. Spite is his bff. Assan is his twin. Bellara is his kid sister and he’s ready to shill her book. Emmrich has banned Bellara and Worne from unsupervised projects together because something always explodes and someone is going to lose an eye.
Taash is a rival that he always loses to, they’re the Goku to his Vegeta, he’s always a level behind and ‘furious’ about it. They’re always good naturedly flipping each other off. Harding is an equal sibling, she knew Varric, she holds a special place almost as close as Davrin, but it’s softer and they spend a lot of time talking and tending the garden together. Emmrich joins them sometimes. I can’t talk Manfred. It hurts.
Romantically close with?
Emmrich. Listen, it was a while on the road with just Varric and Harding, he was touch starved by the time they found the necromancer. This is not his first dalliance with a lover older than himself, that was never a concern. Had that mage clocked for a fun time minutes into meeting. He was not expecting romance. Thought they would have some fun, kill some gods, go on their way. But it very quickly morphed into something way way deeper. Like within weeks they’re living like an old married couple. That companionable ‘alone together’ all the time. They share a deep kindness, curiosity, and love of life. The fact that those core qualities come out in differing hobbies, likes, and manners is a delight to them both.
Of course they do share a near equal amount in common, it’s a nice balance at the end of the day when they want to be tangled up reading on the couch together. Little acts of service were almost immediate between them, just came naturally. Like here, made your cup of tea I was in the kitchen, oh I was in town got your favorite croissant and wouldn’t you know they were selling flowers, did you want to read this paper I finished? Oh is that a stray hair on your jacket, and have you hydrated you’re getting cranky. It’s just very obvious that they’re incredibly mindful of each other. Like second night at gathered dinner Worne knows what to pass Emmrich’s way and vice versa without asking, they’re just doing stuff for each other all the time as if it’s always been that way. They didn’t realize they were doing it, they’re just that way as people and literally couldn’t stop thinking about each other. The rest of the group could see how quick it was before they did. Easier to see the water when you’re not in it, the rest of the Veilguard could see them swimming together from the start.
Worne does see Emmrich as sheltered and naive and needing extra eyes on him outside of Nevarra. Like he’s the oldest of the group but also the most likely to get scammed or stabbed and Worne is ready to kill the person that thinks to try. Emmrich sees Worne as the indomitable chaotic force that he is, and does what he can to pump those breaks lest the Warden burn out. They both deeply care and are trying to keep the other safe in the ways they know how.
They both love how much they have to learn from the other and will yap about their very opposing life experiences and what they’ve gathered from it. At core Worne is dragging Emmrich out of those crypts to come live that ‘adventure’ with him. And Emmrich is trying to make sure Worne stays alive at this point so they can have their quiet (and not) evenings together when the days adventuring is through. Like please do not eat that thing you found on the ground it might carry the disease that does you in.
And they’re both degenerates and loving that. The Veilguard is aware and wish they weren’t so but Worne and Emmrich can’t help it okay they’re fools in love.
(The dynamic is very we can afford a plumber why are you reading a DIY to install the new sink, please I’m taking the car to the mechanic tomorrow how and why did you get the engine out? But oh that does look interesting. Did you have a good time at Paths of Glory night with Johanna? Yes book club was lovely as always. And they do not play board games or any type of games together anymore. It’s not good for their relationship and they know it and respect it. Worne does not like book club because he would rather just be reading.)
Who are they suspicious of?
The Viper. What secrets are under that mask. Those eyes. That voice. Also anyone named Eric. Nobles. Every noble is a suspect. Rich folk as well. Worne is suspicious of anyone with too much wealth, somehow his brain overlooks how rich Emmrich is. He can’t let it register because it would be such a ‘flaw’, like maybe we’re stealing all these things? If he knew the amounts Emmrich had paid on things for him he would lose his goddamn mind. Like go run in Arlathan for a week straight to atone, what has he become. He’s suspicious of wealth, doesn’t care for it, doesn’t value it beyond the security it gives and the power it might have for others safety.
Worne is suspicious of Vorgoth but more in the art scene criminality way than wondering what they might be. They’re a bastard is what they are. They’re a bastard for having a collection that good in private. Myrna isn’t suspicious she is business and he keeps a healthy respectful distance away from that kind of power. For now. He’s starting to figure out how this Necropolis works. He’s suspicious of necromancy as an instinct, and is throwing a hard look at Nevarra because it’s not ‘Emmrich’, it’s something else, he loves Emmrich, he thought Nevarra would be that. It’s not, and he's not sure he likes what he’s seeing. Pretty sure he hates it.
Does your Rook get along with their chosen faction?
Nope. Well, he loves the people. The Wardens are his kin. But he loathes the institution and the managing of it. Despises anything to do with the Joining, blight, darkspawn, and there is a piece deep down that is bitter that he never had a real choice when it came to where his life led. Like this type of thing, the thing he is a part of is wrong, or at least the way it operates and gains new Wardens is. The leadership loathes him, and uses him, but the people within would put their lives on the line for him. He’d hate that. Like he’ll always be a Warden to other Wardens, they’re family forever, but he’s done with the organization by the time he’s with Varric. He never planned on going back. He doesn’t want to fight stuff that makes his blood crawl. Doesn’t want to be anywhere near it. He’d die for the Wardens, but he’d never die for The Grey Wardens if that makes sense.
Are they proficient in playing any instruments?
Nope. But he is quite accomplished at whistling, but that’s a private affair.
Weapon of choice?
Daggers, knives, fists, literally anything in the near vicinity that might help. It’s very chaotic and brutal, there is no rhythm to it. Almost purposefully so, and he seems to risk or take hits to get in close for a lethal bleeding strike.
What is their orientation?
Slut. But a discerning slut. He’s too old to be wasting time with selfish lovers at this point. But if someone is up for learning him he’s game for studying them in a heartbeat.
What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?
Necessary. He’s not a pacifist. This is survival here and people are going to do what they can to live. He doesn’t enjoy it. Never has. He’d rather the need for it completely disappear, but he’s not one to hesitate. If it’s us or them he’s making damn certain it’s them. He killed that mayor. Money is never above people and he does not believe in the ‘death or Joining’ choice. He’s not sending anyone to a Joining. Just kill ‘em. He doesn’t care if it makes him a hypocrite.
What hobbies does your Rook have?
He loves reading, he had a hard time hiding his excitement when he realized just how many books Emmrich was moving in with. And that was only part of the collection from home?! That was his main excuse for constantly being in Emmrich’s study, and obviously he’d be quiet and out of the way and he couldn’t take the books out with him they’d get dirty or lost. He was in there as much as possible from day one.
Also loves any type of game and is notorious for never losing and always cheating. Says cheating without getting caught is part of every game, it’s an important lesson to learn. Johanna plays with him. Aware of the ruleset that all cheating goes. You only lose for cheating if you get caught, that’s their only stipulation. Their games are overly long or surprisingly short, and either deadly silent or violently loud, but it’s obvious to everyone they’re having the time of their lives. Their record against each other is neck and neck and no one can stand to play with them.
Emmrich originally tried to stay for a game or stick around for the companionship but he can’t be in the same room. It’s just…no he doesn’t know the rule from appendix F, please stop yelling about weighted dice rolls, for spirits sake would they stop fighting and he can’t think he’s leaving. And that’s when they gossip. Look, they both love Emmrich, they wish he could join in the gossip. But the man can’t lie to save his life, he’s horrible at keeping secrets. They can’t trust him with the best bits for his own safety. They’ll keep yelling about the game in between discussing the latest juiciest gossip Thedas has to offer.
Worne is always down to celebrate, party, bar hop, what have you. Being the party is a hobby alright and he’s practiced. Like he can’t plan well but he’s good at conjuring one if there are enough people and drinks and food. Usually starts with plenty of drinking games and assorted challenges and hijinks and ends with telling or sharing stories. He can’t write, never learned or practiced, but loves to tell a story, he’s proud to say they’re never told the same way twice. Emmrich made him some pens that can write what he dictates and Worne loves them dearly, uses them for bare fact journaling, but it’s just not the same as speaking. He tells stories he doesn’t write books. And he does it in bars. Or at parties. Or really for anyone that might want or needs one. He wants his stories alive in a way, putting them to paper makes them one thing and he doesn’t want that.
He loves being a part of griffon training but is no help. More hindrance than anything but he is fascinated. He’s also an avid runner when it comes to fitness. Running is survival he says and would be the ultra marathon type. When all else has failed running has saved him more often than not. None of the Veilguard can go on runs with him, they’ve tried. Taash is faster, but they can’t run so fast for nearly as long. He’ll just take off and be gone all day to Arlathan sometimes. Loves to see the sights at his own speed. They’re pretty sure that’s when the whistling is practiced at some point, but that’s Worne time you don’t interrupt.
Oh! And very recently he’s taken up gardening and he loves it, just absolutely delights. It started when he went to talk with Harding plenty and he started helping with her collection. Turns out Worne is a natural with plants. He’s better with them than Harding or Emmrich. Plants love Worne like spirits love Emmrich.
What NPCs do they like? Which ones do they dislike?
Okay so he was smitten by Dorian. That take down of the First Warden? The blatant fucking lying to his face? He was done in then. Instant comrades. Take me now thoughts. And listen. I feel like Dorian wouldn’t be able to crack Worne unless he targeted his very blatant weak spot for Emmrich. Like being snarky to Worne will just delight him. A good joke at his expense is an excellent joke. He’ll up the ante on himself. He would be pretty damn defensive of Emmrich if something felt off there, but Worne is one to see charming bluster and respond with delightful sincerity. So he likes going to the Shadow Dragons, he’s desperately trying to get a read on the relationship between Emmrich and Dorian, like what in the world are they now. He’s asking Johanna what that teaching Dorian period looked like for Emmrich but she can’t speak through the laughter.
Not a fan of Strife. He can feel it. The ‘what if’ and he doesn’t like taking Emmrich to Arlathan.
He smuggles illegal cheese for Myrna and has a contentious…something with Vorgoth. Vorgoth mostly ignores him but Worne is not a fan and is frustrated that Vorgoth is keeping their art collection all to themselves. Have a collection but art is for the people, he’s stealing that shit. Antoine and Evka are his parents, Mila is his niece. I have a deep feeling in my chest that Isabella loves him and he loves Isabella. Like maybe she lets him help do the announcements for fights sometimes and he likes to hang out at the pits if it isn’t a Docktown night. He makes fun of her for almost dooming Kirkwall with that theft of hers and laughs about the fixes she made to the Lords because of it. They talk Varric a lot. Worne really did love him, he shaped himself around the dwarf’s stories to survive, credits Varric for who he is. And he loves Rivain, like has a favorite tree hammock to sleep in there but cities hold his heart. Isabella feels like family, like an aunt he goes to visit and she keeps an eye on him since he lost Varric.
The Crows think he is actually insane. Cacophony of mierdas when he strolls in. What the fuck kind of rogue is that no, don’t wear the cape like that. Dear god take the cape off you will fall in the canal. Worne likes Treviso, he saved Treviso, but it’s too ‘rich’ for him. Like wearing tight tailored pants that make you walk funny. The fit is wrong. And he is just way too careless around very dangerous Crow things. Do not give him a fancy knife he will hurt himself messing with it and accidentally drink poison, why would you keep it in such a fancy glass? For some reason the most uninhibited part of his brain flicks on around the Crows and he becomes a ball of unbridled curiosity. He wants to learn about the ‘real rogue stuff’, and dives headlong in without a care for safety, just a desire to know and try and see, but it is not a fit for him. Crow style is the flame to Worne’s moth. They could never take him in as a fledgling, how would they train out those habits? They’re crows, he’s a raccoon.
Do they have a favorite creature in Thedas?
Griffons. He still can’t believe they’re real and back. He praises Assan too much. Inflates that ego to extreme proportions but he loves those weird cat birds and can’t wait until they’re big enough to take him flying in Arlathan. Emmrich is currently working with Bellara on a device that might slow one's descent when falling from great heights. The reality of it is that Worne is not great at caring for the griffons. They’re too alike. He’s too much of a kid around them. Davrin is the adult here, he’s looking after an annoying pair of younger brothers. Worne is not helping go tend to your plants.
Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?
He’s an adventurer? Worne sees himself as a guy. He’s just going from necessary task to necessary task to stay alive. Started with finding food as a kid, and wouldn't you know he has to kill god now or everyone dies, funny how it escalates like that. But yes. He loves life and living it despite everything. He’s not letting his path dictate his mood. That’s the indomitable spirit.
What would your Rook be doing if they weren’t recruited by Varric?
He’d still be out there killing darkspawn as a Warden. Possibly dead at Weisshaupt. Possibly dead in Lavendell. But hopefully hanging out with his parents Antoine and Evka.
How do you think they’ll meet their end?
Oof. He’s terrified of the Calling. And drowning. He’s hydrophobic. Thankfully no more Calling? Looking like he might be able to die old and peaceful at home, I think that’s the dream. I don’t like the alternative.
Would they side with Solas or fight him?
Oh he would tear Solas’ throat out with his teeth if that was a viable option. The only reason he’s willing to work with that traitorous piece of shit in the end is because it’s what Varric would’ve wanted. He doesn’t think about Solas or he’ll get mad. When he sees Dorian the first thing he will do is bring up how much of a shithead Solas is and how much he hates him and they’re off. If you notice Worne doesn’t hate much, he is very much a lover and liker of things. He hates Solas. Even more than he hates nobles and rich folk. He loathes a betrayer. Solas got his happy end, but that’s because Worne respected the fuck out of Lavellan. That was for her, Solas can suck an egg. And he’s going to shit talk her choice with Dorian as therapy, like love her, but fuck can you believe? He’s still mad. About Varric. About the blood magic. Like deeply justly pissed the fuck off over it. But like. Good for them. I guess.
What is your Rook’s favorite ability?
iframes. Hahaha, but no anything that stacks bleed. Cut ‘em up bleed ‘em out.
What languages is your character fluent in?
Common and conversational in dwarven. He’s not to Davrin’s level, but working as a Warden in the Deep Roads as long as he has it’s helpful to learn as much as you can.
What do they do after an absolute crisis?
Chess puzzles now that he has access to the books for it. Or any other game. Varric mentioned that it could be helpful when he was a kid. Recent trauma? Rote task moving pieces, nothing too difficult, puzzles. I like to imagine Thedas has a ‘Go’ equivalent and that’s likely his favorite for it. You could make a board for that out of dirt and stones and you bet he does. Emmrich gets him his first real set after Weisshaupt, Worne needs it. Do not mention how much Emmrich spent on it, that will upset him. Oh and he wants to fuck, go full no thoughts a bit.
Does your character believe in the afterlife?
Nope. He’s killed a lot of people and hasn’t seen any come back. Doesn’t want to. Feels wrong. He honestly doesn’t care to talk about it much to Emmrich’s dismay. It’s one subject that kind of depresses Worne, he’s lost a lot of people. No afterlife, an afterlife, either reality isn’t something he wants to dwell on.
What specialization best represents your Rook?
Duelist. But he is not a fancy fighter, no official training besides what they could give here and there at Weisshaupt, he’s got a lot of bad habits. Varric always said it was his constitution and spirit that kept him alive. Like he’s coming along to fight the gods because the worst flu and situations in Darktown couldn’t take him out and neither could the worst the Warden leadership could send him to. He got into Lucanis’ poisons and declared them ‘spicy’. He’s got Kirkwall’s own luck, but he’s also got it’s blood.
What animal best represents your Rook?
A street dog. You know the type. Can’t quite tell the breed, or the age, but they’ll lead you to the best hiking paths and follow you around town for pets and love. Separating cat fights, walking the streets, getting a snack someone left out for him. Won’t go home with you because he belongs to the world at large but you’ll enjoy all the time he spent with you that day. Ruggedly handsome fellow if not show quality. Like the entire town knows and loves this dog, that’s everyone’s dog. People will let you know that if you get lost just follow that dog and he’ll keep you safe from getting mugged or worse, bring you where you need to go. That kinda street dog. That’s Worne. The raccoon nature is just him as a man, it’s intrinsic.
What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?
Worne’s entire life has been one of survival. Just a series of escalations to this point really. He’s good at keeping the mood light and easy because he’s a frog in the boiling pot, this is just life yeah? He knows how to have joy in the midst of all that mayhem and survival. Like yeah it’s shit, I don’t have to be.
The pipeline was orphan in Darktown, street kid, thief, pickpocket. Varric named him Rook at six and got him into stories and books and would send what jobs he could. From there just kept in that ‘criminal pipeline’ until it led to gallows or Grey Wardens. Hated life as a Warden and let his disgust be known, always sent to the worst most dangerous jobs and always came crawling back with whoever they sent with him. Last job was the final straw but look, Varric needs him. Fuck was he ever excited for that.
Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?
Worne is very serious about being the leader, but quietly so he doesn’t talk to anyone about it. Varric called him his second and he holds that with a heavy pride and sense of responsibility. After all, a leader serves, a leader doesn’t ask a follower to do any job they wouldn’t. He’s leading from the front and would never expect anyone else to take up such a dangerous position for him. This is the best way he can keep them all safe, and hey they all have specialities and things they’re very good at that are needed to kill the gods. His job is to keep the group together and on task and alive. Like he’ll take opinions and input. But when push comes to shove on Veilguard issues he will have the last word because that’s his responsibility.
He would rather be gardening, reading, running, playing games or doing nothing in a bar. But he is good at what he does. Varric named him second because he saw that flicker for running a tight group of ‘professionals’ through the worst possible situations. His entire life has been escalating worse scenarios he’s had to survive. He’s got experience with this. He’s not made for large organizations, nah he’s your heist man. He’s going to rob that bank or that art gallery with this group of degenerates. When it’s time for the real professional crime he’s your guy. But Varric would be the only soul that really knows the depth of that. And it’s not because Worne is exceedingly good at planning, he’s exceedingly good at creating and utilizing chaos, and he’ll cheat. He can flood a river so only he can ford it. Not many can stay so calm and lucid within it all but chaos is life for Worne and he swims it natural. To the Veilguard he’s just Worne, they’ve never questioned following him, he’s always there for them and first to the most dangerous task. Like he’s everyone’s big brother and you know he’ll get you home. Once those gods are dead he’s retired though, he’s claiming his rest.
If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?
You know he’d have the most fun being a poor Lord of Fortune. Like he doesn’t care a wit or a wink for gold but they seem to be having fun over there and he loves Isabella. But in all actuality he knows he’d go to the Shadow Dragons. Cities are home and he wouldn’t be able to rest right knowing he could help and they would take him. The whole mess in Minrathous is eating at him and he wants to fix it. Feels he has to fix it because he chose Treviso didn’t he? He wants to see Dorian in charge of things and help Neve navigate the Threads world with his experience from Kirkwall. Maybe steer away from what messed him up and get it more union style at the docks.
What’s your favorite thing about your Rook?
Look he’s just some guy trying to eat a croissant in peace at the park with his book and he’s waiting on a good chess game. Get him a cigarette and out of Nevarra.
Bonus: some of the characters that inspired him.
Look wise he’s a lower grade Faramir with brown eyes in my head. Personality wise uuuh reading all this holy shit that’s a lot lol, umm I think I based him off that street dog. Ahahaha I’m trying to think of others and I don’t know. I’ll edit in if I think of any but he was inspired by the thought ‘who would support the lich choice when in love?’ And well a besotted Warden terrified of the blight was my answer. These two idiots fucked up. This was a lovely break from that.
#veilguard spoilers#rook x emmrich#emmrich volkarin#rook worne#dragon age the veilguard#emmrook#dragon age#datv spoilers#datv#emmrich x rook#emmlich#tag game#if I’m quiet on tumblr it’s good it means I’m writing hahaha#pls let your sewer rat find this raccoon and tempt him out the crypts with cocaine#oh he clocked that too like second week asked Emmrich if he needed a new plug or was he done with that shit because he knows a guy#the only thing he can cook is a wicked grilled cheese and it’s especially good with the stuff that’s illegal in Nevarra#shit I forgot to tag people myself do it tag me I went overboard cause I needed this aaaaaaaah
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