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clubkira · 6 months

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DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND .ᐟ

oh future husband, better love me right!

premise. the nhk is hosting another special broadcast featuring the popular fiancées of the jnt’s lineup! and this time, it’s truth or drink! ❤︎

content. haikyu!! jnt / f!reader. (koutarou bokuto, morisuke yaku, kiyoomi sakusa & tobio kageyama). fluff. downbad fiancés. suggestive jokes & allusions to sex. petnames. alcohol. overseas!kageyama & yaku (LDR). reader lives in japan (does not equal being japanese). a little angst.

notes. this part is… a little long! sit down for it ❤︎

soundtrack. dear future husband : meghan trainor.

part one can be read here.

dear future husband m.list // hq. masterlist.

KOUTAROU BOKUTO.

“Been awhile since I last drank,” Bokuto cracks his knuckles upon seeing the many selections of beer he gets to choose, fingers twitching eagerly as they hover over the bottles. “Wonder what I should get…”

You sigh beside him jokingly, nudging his shoulder with your elbow, “We don’t have all day, Kou.”

“I’m just looking!” He chuckles, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

He randomly picks up a bottle of Sapporo, rotating it in his hands before nodding to himself, “This seems good!”

You place your hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards the studio for a final run through before the broadcast, “Alright, Kou. Now let’s get this started!”

The NHK film crew do a final mic and sound check when you arrive as a staff member seats you both at the table in the centre of the studio, a pile of cards with questions written on them, two shot glasses and the Sapporo bottle your fiancé picked out lined on it’s top.

After fiddling with the microphones hidden inside your clothes, the crew give you two a thumbs up and rush back to their cameras to start the recording.

Bokuto’s entire body is turned towards the cameras, sitting on the edge of his seat as he eagerly greets the viewers, “Hey! I’m Koutarou Bokuto,” he catches your eyes with a bright smile, grabbing your hand from across the table, “And this is my fiancée!”

“And we’ve been together for three years now,” You finish for him, hands folded neatly on the table, the cameras pan to show off the engagment rings that sits prettily on both you and Bokuto’s fingers.

“Four months engaged.”

“And we’re playing truth or drink!” You and Bokuto announce happily together, smiling at each other before turning your bodies back to face the cameras. The film crew adjust their angles, moving their cameras off their stands to get better opening shots of you and your fiancé.

“You guys ready to play?” The head camera crew member asks, giving you the okay to start the game.

The studio lights illuminate the white backdropped room, enveloping your eyes in waves whenever you stare at the camera lenses for a little too long.

You and Bokuto nod as he shifts his gaze towards you, “Want me to go first, Baby?” He asks, already grabbing his shot glass and the bottle of Sapporo. You giggle, “So eager to get drunk, Kou?”

“I told you, it’s been awhile!” He beams, pouring out the alcohol carefully into his shot and grabbing the top card from the pile on the table.

“What do you like most about me?” he reads aloud, looking up at you curiously, “I’m pretty sure you’ve told me this exact answer before.”

“Have I?” you tilt your head in thought, thinking the question over, “I mean, probably. It has been three years, after all.”

Bokuto places the card face down on his side of the table, combing through his hair, “I think when we first started dating, you told me it was my hair.”

“It is nice,” you agree, causing Bokuto to start laughing and in turn making you giggle as well. The two of you are already giddy and snickering despite no alcohol being present in your systems yet, “But I think now that we’re engaged, I can give a more detailed answer.”

“Oh?”

He leans over the table excitedly, a wide grin plastered across his face, “Tell me, Baby! What do you like most about me?” His hand is still placed atop of yours, the perfectly cut gems in both of your rings twinkling in sync underneath the studio lights, perfectly complimenting you fiancé’s eyes.

You hum in faux thought for a moment before smirking, “Hmm, your muscles.”

Bokuto’s smile drops slightly to a pout, still keeping his bright composure while masking his lowered grin, “Awe, Baby I thought you were going to say something like, real deep and emotional!” He jests, “Like how you love that I make you smile, y’know?”

You throw your head back in laughter, nudging his shoulder with your free hand, “I’m kidding, Kou!” Your smile is genuine when you see how disappointed he was at first at your reply, looking straight into his eyes as a way reassure him.

“Yes, Kou. What I like most is that you make me the happiest every day I’m with you.”

His smile brightens significantly, a chuckle of his own escaping his lips as he leans back into his chair, “Damn, played by my own girl.”

He slides the pile of cards over to you with a mischievous smirk, “Not that I’m complaining.”

You take the top card off the pile and read it over, fingers twirling the empty shot glass in your hands. Your lips purse as you try to contain the giggles making their way up your throat while reading the question on the card, hands quivering in silent laughter.

“Have you ever wanted to fuck one of our friends while with me?” Bokuto’s eyes seem to pop out of his head at the vast difference and shift in questions, turning to the NHK staff while laughing, “Are you sure this is okay to broadcast?”

The film crew nod, to which Bokuto shrugs, “Alright, then,” before turning back to you. “Uhh, can I just like- take a shot right now?”

“You’d rather drink than not tell me?” You joke, pouring out the Sapporo for your fiancé, “Damn, Kou. Do I not satisfy you enough?”

“Of course you do!” He corrects himself hastily, “It’s just, uh..” he leans in closer to you whisper in your ear quietly, “I don’t want to say Atsumu on national T.V...”

Your hand flies to your mouth in shock, shoulders shaking as you try to contain your cackles, “Atsumu?” you repeat in a hushed tone, making sure you heard him correctly. “Him?”

“He’s got nice hair!”

You both start to laugh at how hair seems to be a common appealing trait you notice in people. Shaking your head in mock disappointment, you shove the stack of questions back over to your fiancé’s side for his turn.

“What is the most embarrassing thing you caught me doing when I thought I was alone?” Bokuto asks, reading from the card he picked off the top of the pile and glancing back up at you.

You hum in thought for a moment, pondering the question.

“Uhm, I think that time you were rehearsing your Valentines day speech to me before we went out to eat at that restaurant a few years ago,” you reveal cautiously, “but you were using a pillow with a photo of my face taped on it as a stand-in.”

Bokuto’s jaw drops at the revelation, nearly falling out of his chair from the shock of what you just divulged to him, “You were there? Watching me do that?”

You have to practically fight the cackle bubbling it’s way up your throat, a smile creeping onto your face when you answer, “Yes, Kou. But it was sweet, so I didn’t mention it to you.”

“You kept that a secret for two years?” He asks again, and you nod.

Your fiancé’s face remains stunned for a few more moments before breaking out into a smile of his own, hand running down his face while laughing to himself. “Damn, I must’ve looked so dumb.”

“I thought it was cute!” You attempt to salvage things, giggling as you pick up the next question card, this time it’s for Bokuto.

“What part of wedding planning is the most challenging part for you?”

“The money…” He pouts, taking the card from you to read it over again before turning to the cameras.

“Weddings are so damn expensive— Did you know wedding flowers can cost up to two million yen?” He exclaims in shock, “For flowers!”

You sigh, plucking the question card from his hand and setting aside on his pile with a smile, “This is why you should leave the financial decisions to me, Kou. Our floral arrangements will not be that expensive, I can assure you.”

“Of course, Baby,” he grins, “I trust you completely on that,” his hands move to pick up the next card, lifting the corner and taking a peek at the question before flipping it over and reading it.

“What is something you’ve wanted to try in the bedroom but haven’t told me about?”

“Impact play,” comes your answer a bit too hastily to be considered normal.

Bokuto has a silent stare off with you for a few seconds after before you both break out in hysterical laughter, your fiancé cackling at how fast and prepared you were when you answered while you exclaim that’s why you could never tell him.

“Baby, that was so fast!” Bokuto reels over the table, pounding his fist into the wood while howling with laughter, gripping his empty shot glass in hand.

“Were you— were you that prepared to answer?”

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you make an attempt to defend your response, “I know you’d absolutely wreck me if we tried, that’s why I never asked!”

“I mean…” He trails off, glancing at you and letting his eyes roam your ring finger as a smirk makes it’s way onto his face, leaning closer to you over the table. “We could always try it at home later—”

“Last question!” You interrupt him, pulling the cards over to your side and grabbing the last question from the stack, you see Bokuto’s smile drop when he sits back in his seat from how you changed topics until he sees you wink at him from the corner of his eye.

“What is something you wish to tell me before we get married?”

Bokuto’s eyes light up at his question, holding up his shot of Sapporo and beaming brightly. Despite not drinking much during your game, his cheeks are flushed like he’s been drunk on your love this entire time, eyes crinkling with glee when he smiles.

“I hope I can keep being this happy when i’m with you after marriage,” He declares, “I love you, Baby.”

“I love you too, Kou,” you smile with him, raising your own shot to clink your two glasses together and down them simultaneously, the cool smoothness of the beer running down your throats.

You can feel the mild bitterness on your tongue afterwards, it leaves it’s taste behind even several hours after your drinking game when you two return to your shared home.

But the sincerity in Bokuto’s eyes when they fell on you back in the studio, and the way he gazes at you like you’re the only thing in his world even with the several NHK staff and film members recording your every move washes that all away instantaneously, overpowering it with sheer sweetness.

It’s just not one you can taste as easily as the flavour of Sapporo.

You might not have gotten drunk that night, but Bokuto’s certain he’s been drunk on your love for the entirety of all three years you’ve been together and wouldn’t mind if things stayed like this forever.

MORISUKE YAKU.

“You’re going down, sweetheart,” Yaku warns you with a teasing wink, lifting the bottle of Vodka in his hands to inspect the label, “Playing in the Russian League gives me an alcohol tolerance advantage that you don’t have.”

“I didn’t know just playing in Russia meant you were an experienced drinker,” you hum, playing along with his jokes for the fun of it. “I don’t think athletes are supposed to consume a lot of vodka anyways.”

“Well, you might as well back out now,” Yaku advises, shrugging with a sly grin, one of the camera crew’s members rushes up to fix the loose microphone on his suit before scurrying back to their position.

“Don’t wanna get beaten by your own fiancé now, do you?”

You merely roll your eyes at his antics, a reluctant smile making it’s way onto your face as you realign the messy stack of cards on your table, sounds of the director doing a final run through of lights and cameras are heard around you.

“Yeah yeah, save it for after you get wasted, Mori.”

The cameras start up as the director nods in your direction, indicating for you two to introduce yourselves to the viewers tuning in, Yaku holds your hand as he recites his lines.

“Hi, I’m Morisuke Yaku,” your fiancé beams, giving your hand a comforting squeeze, “And this right here, is my wonderful fiancée, whom I adore very much.”

Even several years later, Yaku’s swoon worthy words have an effect on you after all this time, making you feel like you’re still in that young and eager love stage. Attempting to hide your giddy face from him, you turn to face the camera as well with a wide grin.

“We’ve been together for four and a half years,” You gush, the sparkling engagement band on your finger being shown outwardly when the cameras zoom in for a closer look. “Engaged for eight months, now.”

“And today, we’ll be playing truth or drink,” Yaku reveals to the excited viewers, the cameras change positions to new angles while the sound crew makes sure your microphones are picking up your words.

After signaling to the director that they are indeed working, he asks you two, “Are you ready to play?”

You and Yaku both agree as he opens the bottle of Vodka, pouring it into your shot glass first before he pours out his own, “Hm, what a gentleman you are, Mori.” You joke, noticing he gave you your alcohol first before serving himself any.

“Always, for you.” He sighs dreamily, setting the bottle down beside him and pushing the cards over to you with his familiar cheshire grin. “And because I’m such a gentleman, you should go first, love.”

You stifle a laugh into the palm of your hand at the sudden switch in personality but take the top card off anyway, flipping it over and reading the question for Yaku written on it, “What is one thing you wish I did more of in our relationship?”

He groans, slumping down in his seat with his Vodka in hand, “Fly over to come visit me overseas,” he jokingly groans, faux-booing you with a thumbs down and all as he turns to the film crew.

“Did you know she doesn’t get on the first plane to Russia whenever I ask, can you believe her?”

You merely snicker at his jeers and turn your card over, placing it down on the table beside your shot. “Well I’m sorry, but I’m unable to predict whenever you’ll miss me spontaneously.”

“It’s not spontaneous,” Yaku argues, “I tell you like, two minutes in advance.”

You raise an eyebrow at his claims, “Wanna bet, Mori? I have screenshots.”

“Maybe I’ll just drink to this instead.”

You both giggle as he shakes his head in defeat, taking the next card off the pile and reading out loud the first question for you.

“Have you ever—” Yaku begins to lose his composure as he reads, holding back his giggles before sputtering out, “faked an orgasm with me?”

You burst out into laughter as Yaku discards the card to his side, head thrown back in hysterics while using the table to stabilize himself.

“Well?” He asks, wiping the tears that have begun to form around his eyes, “Have you?”

You begin to reach for your Vodka shot, causing your fiancé to break out into another, more excessive fit of cackles, “Are you serious, honey?”

“Okay well, maybe!” You confess wholeheartedly, raising the Vodka to your lips, “Back when we were first dating!”

Yaku scoffs disapprovingly, but you can tell he’s not seriously mad when you down the vodka and he’s looking at you worriedly, asking if it was too strong for you afterwards.

You dismiss his concerns, saying it’s fine and that you can handle it before he relaxes and pushes the cards back over to you.

“Have you ever had a dream about me cheating on you?” You ask him, Yaku’s face immediately sours at his question, you look to him expectantly and wait for his reply.

“… Ugh, yes,” he begrudgingly admits after a few moments of silence, eyebrows furrowing as he recalls it unpleasantly, “I had a dream once where you cheated on me with Lev.”

“Lev?” You cackle, “The— the 6’5 russian guy from your highschool volleyball team??”

Yaku’s hand moves to his vodka-filled shot glass, “Yes,” he moans, “It was awful. Hope I never see Lev butt-naked in my dreams ever again.”

“You don’t have to drink to this one, Mori,” you giggle as Yaku downs his vodka quickly, not even flinching at the burn, maybe he was right about the tolerance advantage. “Since you answered it.”

“Ah, don’t care,” he groans, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his suit, “After having to reimagine that scene, I needed the alcohol.”

Yaku takes the next card off the pile of questions skeptically, flipping it over and reading it out loud.

“Do you have any insecurities when it comes to me playing overseas in Russia?”

The question causes you to stop and think as Yaku places the card face down next to him, pouring another shot and sliding it over to you. “You don’t have to say anything, sweetheart.”

His gentle tone reassures you but you shake your head, pushing the vodka away, “No it’s okay, I don’t mind saying it.” Yaku looks surprised but nods understandingly, taking the glass back and giving you the room to process your next words while he remains quiet.

“I think my only insecurity is not knowing if you’re safe while overseas,” you admit to your fiancé. Yaku doesn’t say anything in response, knowing you have more to say as he lets you say what you need while silently encouraging you to elaborate.

“I hate not having you beside me because I don’t know where you are, and I just miss you a lot you know?”

Yaku’s cheek rests against the palm of his hand, concern washing over his face again as he looks across the table to you, “Awe, honey. I didn’t know you felt that way,” he coos, “do you hate whenever I leave for volleyball season?”

You shrug dismissively, the weight of your words beginning to catch up to you as your voice becomes quieter, trailing off at the end. “I mean, I don’t hate it, but like- I wanna know you’re alright while in Russia…”

Yaku’s about to speak when you shake your head dismissively, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” before you’re reaching for the deck of cards, already pulling the top question up and flipping it over to read.

Your eyes drag over the words as a pit begins to form inside your stomach. The next question for Yaku causes you to cringe, still reeling from the uneasiness of the last one as you awkwardly ask him, “Have you… ever regretted or had doubts about our engagement?”

Yaku’s face of concern turns into one of astonishment, he looks almost appalled at how unsure you look and sound while asking him.

“Absolutely not,” he states firmly, holding your hand that holds engagement band on it, you can feel the distress radiating off him as he reassures you in a hushed tone.

“I’ve never once regretted proposing to you, and I fully intend on marrying you.”

Yaku’s words dislodge the lump in your throat as you begin to chuckle to yourself, eyes looking down at his hand where the engagement ring he wears that matched your own. “I’m sorry if you thought I was doubting you, Mori. It’s just—”

“You don’t need to justify your feelings,” Yaku reiterates sternly, “I know, okay? You don’t need to explain this on live T.V.”

Knowing he’s only trying to make sure nothing of what you say can be interpreted wrongly later by media, you nod as he sighs in relief with an uneasy smile.

“I think this next question is our last one,” he announces, his smile morphing back into that familiar cheshire grin, the one that always brightens your day. You think he’s doing it in an attempt to lighten the mood, or maybe he just naturally makes you happy.

Yaku picks up the final question card and flips it over, reading it over with a calm smile, “What have you enjoyed most about being engaged to me?” His voice is gentle as he looks up to you, placing the card down on his pile.

“Well, love?” He encourages you, knowing he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable he gives you the choice, “Do you want to answer, or take a drink?”

You’d be a fool to drink at this question, there isn’t anything to drink for here but there’s just so much about being engaged to Yaku that you love that you can’t quite find the words for it. And while the majority of your engagement has been spent with Yaku being away in Russia, it doesn’t mean you enjoy it any less than if he were with you in Japan.

“… I enjoy knowing you will always be with me,” you begin to speak slowly, making sure your words are clear and concise while twirling your empty shot glass in hand absentmindedly.

Trying to fit all you want to say to your fiancé in a few words is tough, but you manage to shorten it enouhh to say all you want to tell him. “Because even while you’re playing overseas, I know you will always come back home to me.”

Yaku’s face unexpectedly heats up at your words, the apples of his cheeks turning bright red as his lips form into a shy and nervous grin, one isn’t anything like the mischievous and playful personality you’re accustomed to seeing while with him.

“I… I love you, sweetheart.” He manages to speak after some time, loosening the collar of his dress shirt nervously, but the smile on his face never falters. “I always have and always will.”

He extends his hand out to you, motioning for you to give him your shot glass. You hand it to him and he pours out some Vodka, sliding it back over to you once full before filling his own.

“Yes, honey,” he whispers unconsciously while pouring his alcohol, and it’s the happiest you’ve seen him all day. From his flushed complexion, dopey smile and euphoric demeanour, he appears to be glowing. Or maybe it’s the blaring lights behind him that are playing tricks on you.

Your fiancé has never looked so sure of himself until this moment, Yaku’s eyes never straying from yours as he raises his shot glass, breaking into his biggest smile yet.

“I will always come back home to you. No matter how long we are apart for,” and to that, you both cheer, clinking your glasses as you toast to your engagement.

Downing the alcohol in unison, the bitter sting of the Vodka attacks your throats relentlessly, but neither you or Yaku care about that in this moment or the next.

The world’s most intense Vodka brewed directly in the heart of Moscow, Russia could never be so strong as to have an effect on either of you when you’re in the presence of each other. You’re certain that Yaku would drown himself in the harshest of Vodka’s if it meant it was all for you.

A little Vodka is nothing compared to what he’d go through for you.

The way Yaku’s entire demeanour changes when with you, the largest of smiles etched onto his face for a side he only shows while you’re with him here, in Japan.

Remaining wholely committed to you even while seperated by land and sea is all a true testament to your relationship, and it puts your heart at ease.

Yaku may not always be at home; but Yaku knows that home is with you, and he knows he’ll always be with you in due time.

KIYOOMI SAKUSA.

“Oh, he’s a lightweight,” you tell the film crew who are adjusting their camera stands nearby as Kiyoomi pulls out the chair at the table for you to sit at, giggling when you hear the faintest muffled groan come from underneath his face mask.

Sitting atop the table is a bottle of Scotch, the deck of question cards and two shot glasses on it’s sanitized surface as per request by your fiancé.

“This’ll be so easy for me.”

“As if,” Kiyoomi scoffs, taking his own seat across from you and scooching his chair forward, “I’ll beat you and then have to hear you drunkenly cry about it back home later for the next several hours.”

“Nope,” you declare mischievously, folding your arms over the table and laying your head in them while looking up at your fiancé, “Hey, did you know Atsumu told me you’re an emotional drunk?”

You can see Kiyoomi’s eyes twitch underneath his thick black locs, hand reaching to grip his hair in annoyance. “That fucking—”

The director interrupts him unexpectedly when he calls to the rest of the crew in the studio for everyone to take their places behind the cameras, Kiyoomi sighs deeply as his shoulders relax and he leans back in his chair waiting for the broadcast to begin.

“I’m Kiyoomi Sakusa,” he states to the viewers plainly, barely acknowledging the cameras pointed straight at his face when he motions to you, “And this is my fiancée of almost a year.”

You can hear the way his voice softens lightly when referring to you as his fiancée.

“We’ve been together for four years now,” You welcome the viewers much more warmly than your fiancé does, announcing eagerly, “Engaged for eleven months, and we’re playing truth or drink!”

Again, you’re a lot more excited than Kiyoomi is when the director asks, “You guys okay to start playing?” but he agrees to it nonetheless, the subtle nod of his head doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

Kiyoomi grabs the stack of cards full of questions and shuffles the deck around a bit, when asked by the director why he did so he answers, “So if anyone planted any weird questions at the top of the pile for her they’re pushed to the bottom.”

After reorganizing the cards, Kiyoomi hands the stack to you, letting you have first pick of the game. You try to argue, but he doesn’t listen.

“Ladies go first,” he says, expectantly waiting for you to start.

You take the first card of the newly shuffled deck and begin to read it for your fiancé, “Favourite memory of us, pre-engagement or post-engagement?”

Kiyoomi taps his empty glass against the mahogany of the table repeatedly for a brief moment, thinking it over before letting out a deep sigh-turned groan, reaching over and pouring out some Scotch for himself as you sit back in stunned shock at his actions.

“Wait, what—”

“Don’t question me,” he rasps, lowering his face mask and downing his shot with ease, there’s hints of floral notes in the Scotch he can taste.

He pulls his mask back up seconds later and looks up at you, you swear you can see a smirk forming under his mask from the way his eyes lift in amusement afterwards, causing your cheeks to heat up at what he could’ve been thinking about that he had to take a shot to get out of saying it.

Finishing off his Scotch, your fiancé takes both the top card off the deck and his empty shot glass before reading aloud his first question for you.

“What was your first impression of me when we met?” Kiyoomi reads monotonously, his stare hardens when he notices you jokingly reaching for your shot glass, tossing the card over to your side with a groan.

“Really?” He huffs, arms crossed over his chest and glaring halfheartedly at your tease. “Didn’t Motoya say you like… hated me at first or something?”

“I didn’t hate you,” you giggle, pouring the Scotch into your glass while avoiding your fiancé’s gaze, “I just.. am a little thirsty right now.”

“Haha,” Kiyoomi laughs dryly, watching as you down your shot quickly, the citrusy notes in the Scotch make it pleasant to drink. “You’re soo funny, dear. Must be really thirsty today.”

“I am,” you wink, placing your glass back down on the table before taking the next card off the pile.

“What is the most embarrassing nickname for me you have in mind?” Kiyoomi asks, and you snort.

“It’s only embarrassing because Atsumu came up with it…” you turn to the cameras to whisper to the viewers, facing your fiancé who’s giving you a skeptic look that soon turns into existential dread when you begin to snicker.

He groans, “I swear to god if it’s Omi-Omi—”

“It’s Omi-Omi.”

You can practically feel the annoyance radiating off of Kiyoomi while you bat your eyelashes innocently at him, playful shrug of your shoulders as you pull the cards back over to your side, taking the next card off the deck while your fiancé whispers something about killing Atsumu at the next practice from across the table.

“What colour or colours are your favorite on me?” You look up at the director almost immediately before Kiyoomi can even open his mouth, “Can I just say it— Because I know.”

The director nods, “He told me once it was black and gold,” Kiyoomi mumbles something incoherent under his breath, whatever he’s saying being muffled by his nask as he hides his face away from the cameras, the camera crew exchange a look amongst themselves.

“Aren’t those the colours of the MSBY Black Jackals?” One of the crew members mentions offhandedly and you smirk, looking over to your flustered fiancé with the most shit-eating grin you can muster, “Yes, yes they are.”

“Should’ve just let me answer instead,” he mutters while pulling out the next card from the deck to move the game along, coughing as his face slowly returns to it’s natural colour.

He chuckles when he reads it over, “How would you spend an entire week without me?” he turns to the cameras with his own smug face, placing the card down on the table. “She doesn’t.”

“I can,” you interject and he gives you a deadpan stare, “Yeah, can. Doesn’t mean you do, though.”

“Anyways,” you swerve back to your answer, taking the card from his side and reading it over yourself.

“I would have a very relaxing week without you, consisting mostly of singing and dancing in our empty kitchen without you to judge me.”

“I don’t judge you.”

“Yes you do.”

“Nope.”

You two could probably have this back and fourth for hours on end but you stop when you catch the director’s eye, one of his assistants motions to you hurriedly that it’s nearly time to end the broadcast.

With that in mind, you pick up the last question card, flipping it over and reading it for Kiyoomi.

“What’s one thing you’d like to tell me at the alter if you couldn’t say anything else.”

“That I love you,” Kiyoomi says almost immediately, tracing the rim of his shot glass with his ring finger delicately, you can hear the gentleness in his voice when he speaks. “And that I hope you’ll always be my lover, whatever that means for us in the future.”

“That’s more than one thing, Kiyo.”

“I don’t care.”

You scoff playfully, tossing the card aside and pouring out two shots of Scotch for you and your fiancé. Whilst handing him his glass your rings bump together momentarily, the clinking of the diamonds makes the two of you smile, though Kiyoomi’s is hidden underneath his mask.

“Cheers, my dear,” he mutters softly, lowering his mask again to drink and allowing you to finally see the beautiful smile he hides underneath, usually reserved only for you.

“Cheers, Kiyo,” and you two drink, the Scotch tastes lovely and refined on both of your tongues when it runs down your throats with ease.

It’s light and sophisticated, and the flavour profile fits Kiyoomi so well. You consider telling him that, but refrain because you think he won’t understand what you mean; not knowing he’s thinking the exact same about you.

Kiyoomi thinks you two may be a match made in heaven, if such a thing exists then it perfectly encapsulates the two of you.

As the cameras cut and several crew members rush around the studio, Kiyoomi doesn’t notice any of that in this moment— his gaze continues to be locked onto you wholly; lovingly enraptured by the beautiful image of you across from him that he hopes will be burned into the back of his head like the taste of this Scotch, but for many years to come and not just a mere few hours.

Kiyoomi can drink Scotch at any time he pleases, but being married to you is something he is excited for and craves everyday of his life as the days on the calender tick down to your wedding, it keeps him motivated to continue each day if he knows it’s just one day closer to a life with you, one where he knows you will be with him every day going forward.

The day you two will finally be united as one. Kiyoomi can’t wait for that morning to come, when night falls and after the ceremony is done he can finally refer to you as his wife and not just his fiancée.

TOBIO KAGEYAMA.

Tobio gulps upon seeing the Sake being poured into his shot glass by the NHK staff member, being handed the alcohol before they pour out another shot for you, to which you graciously accept with a smile and nod of your head.

“Uhh…” His piercing gaze reaches across to you across the table, nervously fiddling with the glass in hand as he twirls it inbetween his fingers, “I don’t, really hold alcohol well, love..”

“Really?” You stare at him blankly, squinting down at the alcohol in your own shot, “what do you drink in Italy then, Tobio?”

“Limoncello,” he sighs, “but it’s supposed to be sipped slowly, not downed like shots usually are.” He makes a face as the thought of attempting to drink Limoncello like shots ripples through his mind, it would most definitely not end well for him.

You chuckle and give him a reassuring smile, placing your hand over his gently. The diamond on his ring is cool to the touch when you run your thumb over it, with sharp and well defined cut corners. “You’ll be fine, Tobio.”

He nods unsurely but allows the NHK camera crew to do their final run through, making sure everything is in order before the cameras begin to roll and the director is motioning for you both to recite your lines.

Your fiancé’s voice is a little strained, a faint stutter can be heard as he speaks slowly, “I’m… Tobio Kageyama,” he manages to say before craning his head to his left, across the table.

“And I’m her fiancé,” his eyes shift towards you as you give the cameras a polite wave, “We’re playing… truth or drink.”

“We’ve been together for five years,” You excitedly tell the viewers, holding up your ring finger to show off the dazzling diamond atop it, “And engaged for two.”

The director asks from out of frame, “Why have you two been engaged for so long?” A question that most viewers are probably wanting to know, Tobio answers it for you.

“I wanted to marry her sooner,” he timidly admits, looking down at his lap to avoid the harsh glares of the camera lenses, “But with me playing in Ali Roma, it’s hard to plan things out, I guess.”

You nod, “Besides,” you chime in giddily, taking over for him, “It’s fun to be in this little engaged stage for a long time, makes everyday that bit more exciting.”

You ramble on about how fun it is to call Tobio during his off days; calling him at three in the morning in Japan while in Italy it’s 7PM to tell him about a cute floral arrangement you saw earlier that day while shopping that you’d love to have at your wedding.

Facetiming him in the dark of the night, wrapped in blankets and wearing his highschool volleyball jersey to ask him what kind of food from Italy he wants to incorporate into the wedding menu, and texting him photos of different style of wedding dresses you’re considering wearing on your big day while getting out of the shower.

You unintentionally forget about your jittery mess of a fiancé while you speak, beaming as bright as the glowering studio lights as Tobio looks at you amazed.

Tobio’s nervousness slowly fades when he sees the ring on your finger and just how happy you are to be engaged to him. It’s always been a worry of his that you hate the long wait to get married to him, that playing overseas would hurt your relationship because of long he is away from home at times.

But your gleeful joy in telling thousands of viewers in real time that you love just being engaged to him for two years; that you don’t mind it at all, brings some peace of mind to his fragile heart.

“Are you two ready to play?”

Knuckles slowly unclenching as he takes a deep breath, he nods his head to the director, indicating the start of the game. He starts first, picking up the first card from the pile.

“What is the most awkward date we’ve ever been on?” Tobio’s face drops immediately upon reading, turning the card face down on the table and turning to the director, “Can I start over? Or make her drink?”

“It’s her choice if she wants to answer or drink.” The director answers.

Tobio turns to you hastily, eyes practically pleading with you not to say what you have on your mind, he’s already inside your mind and fears for what you could potentially reveal on national television, causing you to erupt in a fit of giggles as you reach for the Sake.

“Fine, fine. I won’t say, Tobio.” You’ve never seen your fiancé so relieved, almost seeing the metaphorical weight lifting off his shoulders with your own eyes when you take the shot.

The Sake is sweet, like sticky rice. It’s feels cool when it hits the back of your tongue and nice to drink, reminding you of the Italian sweets Tobio would send you from Italy. Noting that they’d pair nicely with Sake, you consider getting Tobio to send you more of them in the mail soon.

“You owe me for that one, Tobio,” you chuckle after finishing your shot, “Whatever the next question is you have to answer it.” He groans in protest but agrees after some convincing as you reach for the question pile and grab your first question for him.

“Have you kept a secret hobby or interest hidden from me?”

Shockingly, Tobio nods his head and unexpectedly calm about the question he was supposedly ‘forced’ to answer, “I got into gardening when I first came to Italy.”

“You what?” You utter, delightfully surprised at this revelation, “What plants do you take care of in Italy?”

“I have a few hanging Boston Fern and Ivy in some pots around my apartment…” Tobio tells you, adverting his gaze from your eyes the more your smile grows towards him. “I didn’t mean to keep them from you, I just… forgot to mention it everytime we call.”

“Tobio…” You laugh at how empty headed your fiancé can be at times, sometimes you think he’d forget his head if it weren’t secured to his body. “We call almost every day!”

“Yeah, but you usually call me late at night!” He defends himself, “I don’t normally leave my room that late at night, so you never see them!”

You shake your head in disbelief at this, faux disappointment at your fiancé for keeping this interest of his hidden for so long, “When I visit you in Rome, you have to show me these plants, deal?”

He nods in approval at that arrangement, a small smile creeping onto his face as he takes the next card off the deck, “Have you pretended to like a gift I gave you when you actually didn’t?”

You consider reaching for the Sake but reel your hand back at the last second, deciding to tell him straight up.

“Yeah, the lingerie you sent me a few months ago.”

“You didn’t like it?”

Tobio’s mouth hangs open, visibly swallowing his shame away as he sets the question card down on the table, a hand running through his hair in deep thought.

“Okay well, didn’t like isn’t the right word per se—”

“Was it the style?” Tobio begins interrogating you sternly, brows furrowed and that determined look in his eyes you’re so familiar with while watching his volleyball matches.

“Was it the colour, or was it too flimsy? I tried going to a new store that time, I knew I should’ve just stuck to the other one—”

“Tobio!”

He’s immediately brought out of his thoughts by your cackles, blinking as he’s focused on your laughing figure in front of him. His cheeks are tinted a dark shade of red, thinking he’s said something embarrassing when he whispers a low, “Yes, love?”

Through fits of giggles and laughter, you barely manage to sputter out, “It was just the wrong size, babe!”

Tobio’s eyes widen significantly at the reveal, looking down at his hands where his engagement ring sits comfortably in his ring finger, feeling his body shrink in on itself further into his seat while you’re howling across from him.

If you were seated beside each other he’s sure you’d be slapping his arm too for good measure.

“C-can we move onto the next question…” He mumbles just above the microphone strapped to his dress shirt’s minimum level to pick up sounds. If his old highschool teammates were here— if Hinata were here, god, he’d never hear the end of it. “Please?”

Finally settling down from your giggly high, you vaguely nod, still catching your breath when you reach for the next question card on the pile and flip it over as Tobio tries his best to calm down his reddened face.

“What is the most romantic thing your partner has ever done for you?”

After Tobio’s managed to relax himself, he thinks the question over, chin in hand as his gaze lands directly on the Sake bottle on the table beside him where he gets lost in thought while mulling over the question.

“I think…” he mutters to himself, “When you told me it was okay to go play in Ali Roma, instead of discouraging me to stay in Japan.”

His answer legitimately surprises you, “Is that, really your response, Tobio?”

He nods, hands reaching up to the nape of his neck. “Yeah… I don’t know if romantic is the right word, I guess.“

“But knowing you were there to support me; even if I could tell you were scared for me going overseas, it felt like the most romantic gesture someone could ever do to me.”

Tobio blinks, suddenly remembering his words are being broadcasted on national T.V and coughing awkwardly, “Uh, yeah, that’s my answer.”

He begins to notice the gazes of the rest of the film crew and director that are burning right through him, feeling the colour returning to his cheeks.

Tobio looks over to you anxiously, finding you with the brighest eyes he’s ever seen, he could get lost in them if he stared into them long enough. You purse your lips for a moment, before a smile blossoms across your face.

“Wow, Tobio,” you breathe out dreamily, “That was… so sweet of you to say,” Tobio has a hard time meeting your gaze, you can tell he’s still feeling anxious so you grab his hand and force him to look you in the eye.

“I will always support you, okay?” You tell him firmly, he’s a bit startled at how forward you’re being but nods before you quickly add, “Even if I don’t like being so far away from you, you don’t need to worry about me. Don’t be so nervous about this, alright?”

Tobio’s lips quiver into a strained frown before he sighs, “It’s not that simple,” you feel his hand give yours a light squeeze for comfort, interlocking his fingers with your own. “I wish I could just… not be so worried for you. But I love you too much for that.”

“Loving me means you understand that no matter what, I am right behind you,” you voice to him directly. “Maybe not physically, but no matter where you go, I will follow eventually.”

Tobio goes silent for a few seconds, even when he knows dozens of people in this studio— hundreds of thousands are watching him live, he’s only looking at you; having eyes only for you. With a shaky nod of his head, he finally manages to crack a smile.

“I understand.”

Releasing your hand from his grip, he pulls his next question for you from the pile, looking far more relaxed than he did at the beginning of your game. He’s comfortable in this stage of your relationship, even if he knows that others think it’s strange— the distance between you two, the long engagement period.

He knows the only opinion that should matter to him—that does matter to him is yours alone.

“When you hear my name in public, what comes to your mind?”

“That you have done another amazing set,” You answer with ease, allowing yourself to feed his ego for once. “Or won another game, who knows at this point? You can do it all.”

Tobio seems satisfied with that answer, even uncharacteristically relishing in your praise. “Ah, I am pretty good at volleyball, aren’t I?”

You lean over the table to punch his shoulder lightly, a teasing grin dances on your lips which matches his own, “Yeah yeah, you’re welcome for being so supportive of my fiancé.”

“Well thank you then, love.”

One of the camera crew’s members motions to the director, indicating it’s almost time to wrap up the broadcast. Feeling at peace, you grab the final card of the question deck, eyes flickering to Tobio as you read.

“Anything else you’d like to say to me about our engagement?”

Tobio takes a deep breath, steadying himself before he speaks. He wants to make sure he tells you everything on his mind, but maybe that will have to wait for another time— a more private time.

One that isn’t being broadcasted on national television. So he’ll settle for the next best course.

“I just wanted to say…” He hesitates for a moment, his mouth opening and closing at times until he can find his bearings. “That being engaged to you has taught me a lot of things.”

You’re about to say something in response until he holds his hand up, indicating he isn’t done yet.

“And… I wouldn’t mind if we stayed like this forever.”

Tobio notices the slight look of confusion in your eyes as he continues, “Wh-what I mean is, uh… even though we aren’t married yet, you make me so happy that I feel like I could be okay with what we have.”

“I still want to marry you!” He blurts out worriedly in an attempt to explain himself, “But knowing you’re not bothered by how long we’re engaged for is enough to reassure me that no matter how long we wait for, I’ll still be as happy as the day we marry.”

Tobio shuts his eyes, burying his head in his hands from sheer embarrassment, “Fuck, that was so stupid sounding-”

“Hey now..” You pry his hands away from his face with a pout, leaning across the table’s surface to cup his cheek, “That wasn’t stupid, that was sweet!”

“Really?” He asks, unsure if he believes you, “I’m not really good with my words, y’know.”

“Well I understood what you meant,” you smile, pressing a kiss to your ring finger and placing it on your fiancé’s lips, “And I feel the same way.”

Tobio’s face erupts into a bright scarlet red as you pour the two of you a shot of Sake each, downing them together with your rings on prominent display for all of Japan to see.

Your fiancé is still quite popular in Japan despite now playing overseas, overhearing the NHK film crew and the thousands of viewers who tuned in were watching his broadcast with you while dying in laughter.

It’s not laughter to mock him however— as he soon finds out when after the cameras cut and he can still hear the staff talking about how adorable he looked during the live special.

And his old highschool friends blowing up his phone, sending him clips of his broadcast with hearts and kissy face emojis, but you swear to him that it’s all well intentioned. Maybe not Tsukishima’s to some extent, but nontheless.

All Tobio knows he can do is sigh, turn his phone off and settle into your arms after everything’s been said and done. His time in Japan is limited after all, he has to fly back to Italy in a few days time.

He knows it hurts to leave you again, and you hate sending him off at the airport. He wishes he could marry you immediately— but there’s still so much to be done until that day can arrive.

Tobio doesn’t know when the lucky day will come when you can instead wear a wedding ring on your finger rather than an engagement ring, but as Tobio has discovered today; the two of you will be okay until then despite it all.

It takes a lot to make Tobio anxious about your engagement, but it also takes a lot to shake the strong foundation the two of you have built with each other over the years.

The two of you have planned your future with each other as the main component of it all in the centre of it for as long as you can remember, and he’s prepared to withstand any obstacles that threaten his happiness with you.

Tobio is at ease knowing you have his back, and he has yours even while separated by thousands of miles of stretching oceans and ground.

reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

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inbarfink · 7 months

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Any analysis of how Undertale deals with Pacifism and how it tries to guide the Player towards it has to take a deep look at Papyrus. Because Papyrus is the one character in the game who will never kill, the one actual ‘True Pacifist’ in the game’s main cast.

I mean, the Player can be an even bigger Pacifist. Papyrus does still FIGHT, and the Player can get through an entire run without draining a single sliver of HP. But… they can also be the world’s biggest murderbastard and literally stab reality to death.

Toriel would very much like to not kill, but she is also fully capable of doing so.

Same with Asgore, but he has a lot more actual blood on his hands. Undyne and Mettaton are both fully 100% willing to kill to accomplish their goals. Sans is non-violent in most runs because he’s too lazy and depressed to do anything, and when he is motivated into actions - it is in the form of a FIGHT to the death. Alphys… the timeline is a bit fuzzy cause both she and Mettaton love lying so much, but it seems like she did sincerely add deadly weapons to Mettaton cause killing humans would make him more 'useful' and then had second thoughts once she developed a parasocial relationship with the Human Child and THEN she and Mettaton started hatching their little play-acting plan. I think??

With Papyrus there is NONE of this ambiguity, we know for sure - no matter what timeline or what may come - The Great Papyrus will always choose MERCY.

And the interesting thing about that is on a Meta-Sense, Papyrus is a very rare example of the game giving MERCY towards the Player.

Because the game starts out being really obtuse with the Sparing mechanic and how it works. If you want to be a Pacifist in Undertale from the get-go, you’re gonna have to work for it. You're gonna have to figure it out on your own and commit to it and believe that it's possible. It's basically a test of your own belief in non-violence and your moral integrity. Then, the RUINS end with the Toriel boss battle - in a way, that’s probably the hardest Sparing puzzle in the whole game. And it’s very very easy to accidentally kill her. (I’d almost say that’s the intention of the battle, to try to goad the Player into Resetting so they can see how the game remembers across RESETs)

And then we have Papyrus, and it’s not just that his ‘Sparing Puzzle’ is something as simple as outlasting him and letting him run out of dialogue - and it’s not just that he’s the only boss that will just give up and let you continue if you lose to him enough times. it’s also that, just as Papyrus is the only boss incapable of accidentally killing the Player - he’s also the only boss that the player is incapable of accidentally killing.

(Okay, fine, to be pedantic, there’s also Asgore)

I mean, the Player can certainly kill him if they want to - but draining Papyrus’s HP just makes him skip through his battle dialogue right to the end of it. It’s designed in such a way that, no matter what Route you're on and no matter what approach you take with Papyrus - you will always end up on this screen.

Unlike basically any other Monster in this game, including the major boss battle just before him - you can’t kill Papyrus accidently. You can't kill him without also having Sparing him as an option. The game kinda treats killing Papyrus as one of the Worst Things You Can Do because killing Papyrus will always be a deliberate, considered action done to a person who will not kill you and who has stopped wanting to FIGHT and has extended a hand of Mercy. With the game clearly communicating what you need to do to Spare him at that moment.

And that means that - even if you killed before, even if you don’t have the patience of a True Pacifist, even if you spent all this time in the game without even trying to engage with the Sparing mechanic… as long as you don’t want to be a Huge Rat Bastard, the game is basically gifting you with the very very easy option to not be. Being a Pacifist in Undertale is usually a challenge - a puzzle to be solved, a test to pass. But as long as you aren’t intentionally trying to be the Worst Person - the game is basically giving you Papyrus.

If you accept his Mercy, you are accepting the game’s Mercy. That sort of benefit-of-the-doubt assumption that maybe all of the LOVE you might have accumulated so far was all due to honest mistakes or panic or an attempt in self-defense. That you still deserve this one chance to prove that you are not intentionally, maliciously cruel - or at least not like the Worst Person in the World. Even if you did kill before, you still deserve at least one friend.

And Sparing Papyrus leads you to his wonderful Hangout/Dating Sequence and to his Phone Calls and they all add so much wholesome charm to the Undertale experience and no matter what happens Papyrus will always think the best of the Player and he will always trust them and it also makes Sans also kinda your buddy by default. And more than just adding a little bit of wholesome charm into even the more LOVE-filled Playthroughs, I think this is meant to try and incentivize these players into trying out the Mercy mechanic a bit more.

Whatever it’s, like, for future playthroughs or Resetting the game right there to try a True Pacifist Run right there and then or just trying to be a little kinder for the rest of this current playthrough - especially since there’s an emphasis about the close friendship Papyrus has with the upcoming boss Undyne, and to a lesser extent with his idol and next-next boss battle Mettaton. It’s like “well, if you didn’t figure out how to spare before, this is how you do it? And isn’t it nice to have a friend? Isn’t it nice to not have to kill this lovable skeleton man? You should do this more often wink wink nudge nudge!”

And it’s like… all of Papyrus’ loved ones care about him so much but they also look down on his pacifism. They see his inability to kill and desire to make friends as simple naivete and that’s why all tend to hide the truth from him all the time. About what will happen to the Human he will capture, about what his new Human friend might’ve done, about the fact that they view him as so naïve.

They admire it on some level, that’s why they want to protect it, but they also see it as a weakness which is why they want to protect it by lying to him all the time. But, you know, Undyne says that if Papyrus goes into battle he’ll be ‘ripped into little smiling shreds’ and that is certainly what happens every time a Player chooses to refuse Papyrus’ Mercy and the game’s Mercy and press that FIGHT button…

But have you thought about all the times that doesn’t happen? All the careless or violent players who were offered that skeletal hand of friendship, accepted it and then carried that offered kindness forward for the rest of the game? All the players motivated to do good for the sake of their buddy Papyrus? All the Murder Routes stopped because the player just didn’t have it in them to kill someone who believes in them so earnestly?

Like, no, it’s not a surefire thing - especially since Papyrus has so much less narrative power than the Actual Unkillable Time God that is the Player. But it happened, and it happened many many times to many players. Papyrus offered Mercy, the game offered Mercy. And much like Frisk’s Pacifism, it comes from a place of seeing the honest goodness in your ‘enemy’ and can inspire them to become a better person - this little sparkle of goodness being passed forwards.

And I think that’s beautiful, even if it didn’t happen in every timeline. Any potential future where Papyrus’ kindness can have such an effect on the Player and thus the entire trajectory of the Underground validates his kindness and pacifism on some level - even if there are also always the potential worlds that it backfires completely.

And there’s also one other way in which the Great Papyrus Proves Pacifism Pays. One that is a bit more practical, perhaps. And one that Papyrus himself is not even aware of.

Papyrus’ boss battle can be a surprisingly challenging one specifically because he is the only one who doesn’t kill the Player.

Like there is a reason why Papyrus will just offer you to skip his Fight after you lose to him three times, because if he didn’t do that - there’s an honest risk that the Player can get stuck in a much stuckier way than anywhere else in the game.

Because, like, for basically any other character in the game, being killed is the Worst Thing that could ever happen to them. For everyone except the actual Player Character because we are an Actual Unkillable Time God and dying is nothing more than a minor annoyance that sets you back to your last SAVE Point. So, leaving aside Papyrus’ admirably kind intentions - there is not much material difference from the Player’s perspective between getting Captured and getting a more traditional GAME OVER. Except…

Except getting Captured does not undo everything that happened in your inventory during the battle. In every other Undertale battle, if you use all of your items but still lose - the GAME OVER at least means you get your stuff back. But because Papyrus doesn’t kill you, any healing item you’ve used during the battle is still used. I have watched so many Undertale Let’s Players waste all of their valuable items on their first Papyrus battle and then have to face him again without them and thus do even worse in their second go… and then their third go... and thankfully then Papyrus offers them to skip the fight.

And while that technically can be circumvented by just manually closing the game and opening it back again on their pre-battle SAVE Point, a lot of players are gonna reflexively Save over it if they pop over to the Shop or the Snowed Inn before their second attempt at the battle. If Papyrus didn’t offer that chance to skip his battle, it could’ve easily become a softlock situation for a huge chunk of players - because he doesn’t kill the Player.

Most of Undertale deals with the value of non-violence from a standpoint of morality and kindness and personal connections. Since most people do die when they get killed. But when dealing with an Unkillable Time God like the Player, Papyrus proves that not-killing might actually be the most practical solution.

Of course, it doesn’t seem like Papyrus is aware of any of this. From his perspective, he is just offering genuine mercy to a being just as ephemeral as he is. But it accidentally turned into one of the most effective methods of blocking the Player’s way… at least he didn’t offer us an opt out so soon after that.

And it’s interesting when comparing him to how his brother Sans - one of the few people actually aware of the existence of SAVEs and RESETs - deals with the Player. Because the Sans boss battle at the end of the Murder Route is entirely based on the concept that death is nothing but an annoyance to the Player. Sans is less trying to kill the Player (the way Undyne the Undying did), he is simply trying to annoy the Player into a ragequit. But he is still killing the Player.

Now imagine a Sans battle where he has all of his usual annoying tricks, but also instead of killing you - he captures you just like his brother would’ve in a happier timeline. And while it’s not a fool-proof plan to stop the Player in their tracks - he could very easily stick them in that sort of softlock situation where they have to battle him again and again without any Healing Items. Forcing them to either abandon the game or RESET the whole world back the way it was - just like Sans wants them too.

But instead, by killing the Player, he is just allowing that perfect second-third-fourth-fifth-sixth-try where they get all of their Stuff back. And he does actually knows that. And why doesn’t he do that? (Speaking here from an in-universe character study perspective. Obviously the Doylist answer is that the game doesn’t want to Softlock you even in the most deliberately-frustrating part of the game).

Maybe, even though he intellectually knows that killing the Player will be of no help - he still does it because he wants to. Because he just wants to get back at the evil murderous monster that took his brother from him and destroyed his entire world even if he knows it’s actually ineffective. And this thirst for bloodshed is, ironically, blinding him from a new exciting way to actually practically stop that murderous bastard who is themself motivated entirely by bloodshed.

Maybe he just can’t do something like that. Reducing an enemy to exactly one HP and then stopping is not a feat anyone else in the game is capable of pulling off - even the ones who would obviously use such a thing (like Toriel or a Player with a Pacifist intentions). Maybe it’s something that requires a lot of hard practice and discipline and carefulness, that Sans never thought to put in because he didn’t see it as a useful skill the way Papyrus did.

Maybe that wouldn’t have worked anyways. After all, and that’s something I kinda touched on in a previous Overly Long Rambly Hot Take - Sans’ War of Attrition against the Player is greatly helped by the fact he can’t remember every single previous try and so he can’t get exhausted the way the Player can get. Obviously, without a GAME OVER induced RESET that will not apply. Which is especially notable because… Sans’ laziness is literally what brings him down at the end of that Boss Battle.

So maybe, while Papyrus, as long as you decline his offer to skip the battle, is capable of offering just the same Battle as before over and over and over again.... It’s possible that Sans just won’t be able to pull off two or three or more battles of the same intensity and difficulty in a row without a RESET to undo his own exhaustion.

But I think it’s at least worth considering the option, y’know? That after all this time of viewing Papyrus’ kindness as sweet-and-yet-kinda-foolish-naïveté - that exact viewpoint made Sans overlook the perfect solution to dealing with his little Murderous Time God problem. Cause he just never considered that while killing might be fully morally justifiable in this situation and very very satisfying, that does not necessarily mean it is actually the most practical solution. And that maybe, in a weirdly twisted way, Pacifism WAS the answer.

#undertale #ut #utdr #under tale #papyrus #the great papyrus #papyrus undertale #papyrus ut #sans #sans undertale #sans ut #sans the skeleton #papyrus the skeleton #undertale analysis #undertale meta #genocide route #genocide run

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sage-nebula · 1 month

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"Suffer No Fools" - Shiver vs. Marina Analysis

It's been a few days since "Suffer No Fools" released, but I wanted to go ahead and release my analysis of Shiver's and Marina's verse since that's the one that has caused the most discussion within the fandom. I've seen a lot of debate over Marina's section in particular, with people unsure whether she was being sincere or sarcastic, and I think the actual answer is a little more complicated than one or the other, at least with regards to the first couplet of lines both she and Shiver sing. Of course, people are free to interpret this song however they wish, but after seeing numerous interpretations I personally didn't vibe with, I just wanted to put my own out there, breaking it down line by line.

So! Here we go.

Exchange 1:

Shiver: "Your haunting voice -- there's no escape. How nice it must be for your fans." Marina: "You're far too kind! I love your vibe. I can learn so much from your style."

Analyzing from dialogue only:

Shiver is insulting Marina's voice by calling it haunting and saying there is no escape, insinuating she wishes there was one. She says how nice it must be for Marina's fans, again implying that she isn't one.

Marina says that she loves Shiver's vibe, which on the surface could be a compliment, but given the context (a music battle) it could also be a Mean Girl "ooh I love your [thing] :)" passive-aggressive drawing-attention-to-something-ugly insult. More direct though, is the "I can learn so much from your style"; you can learn what not to do from someone just as much as you can learn what to do from someone. Marina's engaging in plausible deniability here.

HOWEVER. Lyrics are NOT the only thing that need to be analyzed from this first verse, which is arguably the MOST important exchange between these two. Instead, we need to look at how these lines are delivered.

Shiver is singing in a traditional Japanese folk singing style, specifically a style based on Shima-uta, which her voice actress has a background singing in. Unfortunately, I don't know the actual term for this style of singing, only that it's not kakegoe, something Shiver also does that is different from this. Anyway, in these lines specifically Shiver is singing in her Shima-uta style, a style that she has presumably been practicing since she was a small child, a style that is probably culturally significant to the Hohojiro clan. Singing in this style is not something that just anyone can do. It's completely different from singing in a (for lack of a better word) "western" style. The way you breathe is completely different. The way you incorporate your voice into your breathing is completely different. So by singing in this style, which Shiver has been doing practically her whole life and which, presumably, only she of the four there can do, Shiver is FLEXING on Marina regardless of what lyrics she chooses to sing.

But then Marina, who grew up under the domes in Inkadia, who presumably has never heard Shima-uta before she started listening to Deep Cut and heard Shiver sing, who presumably has had absolutely no training whatsoever on this style of song . . . mimics it perfectly and flexes on Shiver right back.

Could Marina's words to Shiver be interpreted as passive-aggressive in turn? Yes. But does it matter? No, not really. Because in this first verse, Marina's ACTUAL comeback is to take the style of singing that Shiver has been perfecting her entire life and throw it right back in her face despite having never (as far as we or Shiver know) practiced it herself. Shiver was flexing by presumably doing something Marina couldn't do, only for Marina to do it flawlessly, being every bit as divine with a voice so fine as Pearl said she was previously. Marina says "I love your vibe" so she takes it. Marina says "I have so much to learn from you" but does she really, when she can already do exactly what Shiver can, and has, just now, right in front of her?

And Shiver noticed, hence:

Exchange 2:

Shiver: "You remind me of my neighbor's little daughter . . . What's that saying? 'Octo see, octo do.'" Marina: "Glad you approve -- your praise has left me moved. Thanks to your notes, I'll find my groove!"

Shiver drops the Shima-uta singing, because now there's no point. Marina can also sing in that style, so it's no longer a flex. Shiver lost ground on that one, so instead we're back to the same (again, for lack of a better word) "regular" style of singing that everyone else is using. For that reason, we can go back to analyzing purely based on the words alone.

Shiver is calling Marina a copycat, essentially, because Marina copied her Shima-uta singing style in the previous verse (hence why Shiver had to drop it, as previously noted). Marina then gives her "glad you approve -- your praise has left me moved" . . . basically noting that by Shiver accusing her of copying, Shiver is saying that Marina -- someone who just tried the singing style off the cuff right there on the stage for the first time -- was just as good as Shiver, someone who has trained in that style her whole life. The audience saw for themselves that Marina was able to emulate the style, but Shiver saying, "you copied me!" is basically admitting that Marina was just as good as her in Shiver's own eyes, and Shiver is a pro. That's Shiver's aggravation handing Marina the win and Marina smiling wide as she accepts it.

Exchange 3:

Shiver: "Oh, look at the time. Isn't it getting late?" Marina: "Not at all! I could go on like this all night long."

This one doesn't even really need an analysis. For all that she prides herself on being "so cool even sharks call her cold-blooded," Shiver is known for being easily irritated and riled when she's losing due to her competitive nature. Marina successfully got under her skin, and this is her trying to end the battle fast because she didn't have any further comebacks. Marina, meanwhile, gives the classic "I could go on all night" because she's not riled at all, and is instead perfectly comfortable in this environment, knows what she's doing, and has had the upper hand from the start.

It goes back to another post I made about Experience vs. Inexperience. Shiver and Frye are still new idols, whereas Pearl and Marina have been at this for a long while. And while off the stage Marina is a sweet, kind, gentle person who will go out of her way to help others, and can sometimes be a little spacey or naive, she's also a 23-year-old literal genius who has been in the music industry for years now and knows full well what a rap / music battle is and knows her way around a stage. Personally, I found it to be a little infantilizing to insinuate that she "didn't realize Shiver was insulting her," when not only do I think she knew full well, but also she was the one with the upper hand not because of sick burns (that's Pearl's department), but because of sheer innate musical talent.

But those are just my thoughts! Everyone else is free to have their own.

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #suffer no fools #off the hook #deep cut #shiver hohojiro #marina ida #keep in mind that Shiver is my favorite Deep Cut member please #i mean no disrespect to her in any of this #i really do just think it's her inexperience in the music industry etc #and Frye's as well #i think that in Splatoon 4 we'll see that Shiver and Frye have matured some & made some headway in their own careers #(and Big Man too ofc but tbh he's already there with the maturity imo)#(hence his collabing w/ Squid Sisters & non-hostility toward OtH)#then again maybe Deep Cut wants to stay indie. idk! we'll see

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gangplanksorenji · 3 months

Text

Kinknuary Day 12: Anal Sex

Pairing: ITZY Chaeryeong x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,264

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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There’s a mere escapade of such delightful endeavors, and it’s not that difficult to be into one. Opting to find a way to find such delectability and genuine enjoyment, you started a truce between yourself to find real gratification and not get lost and fight with on what to really enjoy. Maybe, perhaps, you don’t need to swear yourself like that when someone piques your interest, your own self getting excited as she gets along and talks with you even more.

“Single?”

“Maybe I’ll say it’s a no.”

Chaeryeong snaps herself into reality, as she was shocked to know that you’re in a relationship when your mere demeanor doesn’t emit one, in her words. “Why the ‘maybe’? Something wrong that happened?” Chaeryeong furrowed her eyebrows as your response piques her interest on engaging and killing her curiosity, not before sipping on her sweet, alcoholic concoction to kick things off.

“I don’t really want to talk about it but—” You let out a deep sigh as you faintly winced, feeling the pain in your heart as it weighs down pretty heavily and Chaeryeong notices it right away but chooses to listen first. “—she cheated on me and it broke my heart when I knew that…”

Your tone was in faint melancholy and defeat as Chaeryeong shows little sympathy but nonetheless, her façade remains calm and stern, and then sipping another from her sweet cocktail. “She’s a total douche, then, hm?”

“Yah—don’t talk to her like that—”

“But she cheated on you, don’t you see it?” Chaeryeong gives you a defined glance as she wants to snap you to reality even though you can be as delusional as any unhinged person known to man, or perhaps, love making you act this way. She puts down her half-finished cocktail as she inches closer towards you, willing to let you know how this will end up bittersweet. “As much as you love her—this is just unhealthy and you’re not benefiting off of this.”

Maybe Chaeryeong was right about this; and it doesn’t stop there, it’s making you feel something that could absolutely ease the pain and by making it utterly equal. A man will be a man—with a beautiful and a hot girl talking right in front of you, feeling butterflies would be normal as it’s inevitable to feel such connections, maybe more than what words can imply. You brushed off those thoughts in a while yet it bothers you like a young child wanting to play with you, and you’re fighting it to the fullest.

“I don’t know Chaeryeong—this seems crazy…”

And you’re finally opening your eyes to the reality of the world—brushing off the pain and delusion that made you vulnerable at this moment and it’s absolutely breaking you apart.

The truth hurts—it does and there’s absolutely nothing you can’t do about it but you need to ease the pain with something and even if it means to do something devilish, then so be it.

“Hah—you know what? It’s going to be fine, honestly.” Chaeryeong smirks at you as she entices you with her charismatic aura, luring you in as she thinks of something that’ll help you with what you’re going through. “Why don’t you make it mutual against her?”

Your face is puzzled, confused on what Chaeryeong has enlightened you into but soon, you’ll know you’re going to get a grip on this but you need to know and make sure what she is thinking. “What do you mean by that?”

Chaeryeong knows how oblivious you will take this as neither party never knew this can end like this, mostly her knowing what to do and of course, she’s not going to let you down with your curiosity killing you slowly. “Aren’t you that oblivious, hm? Of course, you need to get some spicy revenge against her since she started this, no?”

Well, speak of the devil and the devil’s already knocking at your door. As for how wicked her suggestion can be, you can’t help but give in to your devilish side, opting for revenge since your girl has done the same as it totally crumbled your world, piece by piece. You love her, and that is what’s stopping you to submerge onto this possibly cruel act but your other side is reflecting, thinking that this is just going to be fair for both parties as it will hurt her how it hit like a truck on your side.

Maybe it’s time for a fair judgment, settling onto a plan that can get the best for both worlds—

“Come on, I know you’d want this—it would be just fair…” Chaeryeong pulls up a trick in her sleeve that would absolutely make her insatiable and almost nigh-impossible to resist: seduction. Her tone laces honey yet drips with lust; and her moves emanate grace yet dances like a vixen. Now falling under her spell slowly, you can’t help yourself but get riled up with her advancements as she doubles her effort onto luring you more.

Her fingers and her face, inching closer towards yours is the breaking point, let alone her fingers directing you up as her subtle movements on your chin seduces you further. It wasn’t long until the heat around the room ensues as she pulls you in for a kiss and it’s an intimate one. You can just find yourself being more indulged with the luscious taste of her cherry lips as the both of you savor each moment and finally, it wasn’t long until she pulled out and you were met with her beautiful, sincere smile.

“See? It wasn’t that hard…”

“You think this won’t go bad, Chaeryeong?”

Chaeryeong scoffs as her hubristic attitude paints a smug face right after, confident that this won’t hurt your fate in any way. “Of course it won’t—in fact, she’s the one getting the karma, so she deserves it.” Fully indulging onto her succulent taste, you find yourself pulling her for another kiss as she eagerly reciprocates and the heat being emanated by the both of you is skyrocketing and gladly, no one’s even bothering to check up on you but such a predicament will be stopped as you don’t want to get embarrassed further.

“You’re cute, you know that?” Chaeryeong shyly compliments you as your cheeks flushed red after that, and so your ears show such a rosy hue.

“Thanks—and also, you’re a great kisser, Chaeryeong—”

“Just call me Chaery, and also, thanks…” The both of you went shy after a wholesome moment but Chaeryeong, quickly changing her demeanor as she finally gets your whole attention, proposes such a risky idea that the both of you will benefit for and will make this night an absolute remarkable one. “How about we can take this somewhere privately?”

You fix yourself and squinted your eyes a little, in a thought if you will agree to her offer as thai deal is probably an act worth remembering, and as a tool for revenge, for her to learn her own lesson to not mess around and fuck with you. So, with such a deep yet quick conclusion, your hands went down on her small, slender waist as you initiated, “Alright, Chaery—we should take this somewhere where we could only see it.”

“Would love to be a part of that.”

And there your evil roots grow on you as the both of you course your way onto the nearest bathroom as it didn’t take some time to find one and here goes the exordium of your devilish desires.

---

“God, you’re such a hot girl, Chaery.” Your hands wonder (mostly at her waist and her buttocks) all over her impeccable features and her outfit that perfectly compliments her body, from top to bottom. Your eyes lit in amazement and awe, incredibly blown away with her body as she snaps you back onto her attention, uttering such words that further seduces you into giving in to your own sexual desires.

“Baby—tell me how you like my body. Tell me your favorite one, please…” Chaeryeong lets out a needy whimper as pleads to know what could be your favorite and you flash a smirk because of her wants. Every inch of her body should keep an eye on appreciated as she’s sculpted perfectly and everything is just flawless, and with that being said, it’s hard to really choose on a favorite but there’s one thing that really catches your eye and it’s pretty obvious until you admit it: it’s her thick, spankable butt.

You mutter it and Chaeryeong flashes a smile because of your pure sincerity—not to mention that your eyes glisten with lust and hunger whenever you say those words directed to her. With her hands all over your shoulders and her face painting such a smug expression, you know her confidence is all over the roof with all these comfortable actions of hers as she replies with your sincere thoughts about her body. “I love that you thought of my butt being your favorite baby. With that, don’t you want to touch or rather, feel it.”

Both choices are appealing and hot as fuck: the former already being done and just making both parties anticipate and keep the tempo running yet the latter is what really catches your eye—the urge to really rail her onto the bathroom sink and rail her from behind is such an arousing thought. You know that your primal desire is taking over and what you’re doing with Chaeryeong is wrong but like what you and she said earlier: it’s just fair for both parties and well, karma’s a bitch.

The both of you know where this will go, as it will end on a filthy note and that’s your goal for the time being. Chaeryeong lays her back flat onto the marbled concrete wall as she raises her arms up, making you eye her scrumptious body all you want as she took this as a complimentary move, letting out small whimpers as an encouragement for arousal and spicier foreplay.

“I guess you love my body, huh?”

“I do, Chaery—there’s nothing to dislike about it in any way. This is just perfect…” Catching her off-guard, your lips swiftly pecked her collarbones with kisses and you suckled onto the porcelain skin, but not enough to mark her.

“O-Oh god—that’s g-good—keep doing that…”

And you certainly did. Over the course of a minute, you give her kisses that implies peak affection and admiration as you shower them with it, not leaving any inch untouched with your soft flesh. You kept the atmosphere heated up with numerous pecks as she moaned in response, fueling you to keep up the good work that you bestowed upon her. It didn’t take too long for you to pull out as you’re satisfied with the message you’ve given her and Chaeryeong isn’t done yet, and demanding for more of it.

“You’ve got me riled up on the start, baby—now I gotta reward you for that.” Chaeryeong pushes herself out of her relaxed state, and stands closer towards you, leaning onto your ear and whispering, “How do you want me, for today, hm?”, and then leaning back with a wide grin full of anticipation and lust.

There's a plethora of options you can possibly do with Chaeryeong, yet so little time to choose from them as you don’t want Chaeryeong to grow impatient. It didn’t take long before you come up with a final decision, and with a delightful smirk to finally live up to the anticipation, everything will be unveiled within seconds—

“I want you from behind and I want you to let me chose, Chaery.”

A simple wish but quite enough to make her mind go wider than the outskirts of her limits—all of the possible ways she could encourage you courses down her veins and this just fuels her enthusiasm more. With such anticipation stored from earlier now broken into pieces, she didn’t waste time to put on a spectacular show that will be surely remarkable as she strips off her clothing but before she continues, she wants to ask you something first and that alone, makes you anticipate even more.

“Would you like me fully-naked or—”

“All of your clothing stays on except your shorts and panties—these fishnets and your top is too hot to be taken off.”

Your wish will be fulfilled as her fingers starts to get a grip on the hem of her glittery, black short and with one, swift motion, it was now down to her ankles and you were revealed with a black thong that perfectly complimented her curves and as the cherry on top, her perfect, pink pussylips on display with just the thin fabric refraining you to see it whole. It didn’t last that long as she stripped her thong a second after, revealing such a scrumptious sight of her glistening pussy, full of arousal. Now bending over, and almost sitting at the sink, she spreads her legs to give you a better view of such pristine and beautiful art as it makes your member twitch inside your clothed prison.

“See how wet I am, darling? That’s because of you and no one else. It’s not fair for me to just show off mine and not yours—come on baby, strip for me.”

She then faces you again, and it’s a must: you don’t want her to grow impatient as your hands quickly course its way onto the button of your pants yet you ask her like what she did earlier. “Do you like me fully-naked or—”

“Whatever you want, darling. I just wanna see that cock raging and throbbing for me—go on, do it.”

You can literally see the need in Chaeryeong’s eyes when she said those words—she meant it and she wants to see what you’re packing too. You wanted to be on par in terms of the stage of nakedness with Chaeryeong, settled with just your bottom-half stripped away from its clothed prison as you swiftly removed the chains that had been shackling the feral beast inside you. With each second that’s passing, Chaeryeong eyes your every movement, with a finger in her lip, biting it as your iron walls goes down one by one, and when it’s finally the last one, her eyes fixated onto your member and immediately, you yanked your boxers off, falling on your ankles as she’s meet with your fully-erect member.

“Oh—fuck, that’s a good, fucking cock right there. Holy shit—that alone makes me want to suck and gag on it.”

“But you said you’d let me choose, right?”

Well, she said that and speaking of that, she offered you what could be the best memory you could attain in your whole life. With Chaeryeong still halfly-sitting on the concrete sink, she seduces you with her sultry voice and utters, “You’re damn right—so what’s it going to be, hm? Would you want it balls-deep inside this tight, juicy cunt that has been wet since you’ve made me horny earlier?” Her dainty fingers reach to her labia and then teased onto her wet folds, letting you anticipate and think further ahead;

“Or would you want to gag me and fuck my face like a fleshlight you could never buy—for sure, you’ll feel fucking good when I lay my lips onto this beautiful cock—” Chaeryeong points at her mouth as she licks her lips and gave you an inviting look to further indulge to your primal desires;

“Or would you want it inside my tight, snug hole where my tightness is unparalleled and you’ll spank me hard in each thrust you do—” God, Chaeryeong really knows how to invite you in the most seductive, arousing and persuasive way possible. All options are optimal as you wanted to try them all but your heart shines onto one thing and that thing only: the curvature of her ass and the puckered hole presented on your view as your cock twitched uncontrollably once she invited you onto her own anal kingdom. Knowing that it;s the obvious winner and your need to really pound her ass until she submits onto pure lust and cock-drunk—it’s only a matter of time before it really becomes a reality: a will to succumb and dive into your long-awaited desires of lust.

“I’d like it up your ass, Chaeryeong—your ass would feel—” You inch closer, your hands palming the circumference of her cheeks as you initiated a slap, “—fucking incredible, I guess.”

Well, you might not even need to guess to know if her walls would feel euphoric but you could never be so sure. Chaeryeong cocks an eyebrow at you as she is confident with what she’s about to take yet she prepares herself for the main event. “There’s no way this big cock’s gonna fit all inside my ass—god, you’re really gonna go for it huh?”

“Who wouldn’t be? Now turn around for me and bend over.” It was all quick and you’re taking the risk—Chaeryeong expected it from the beginning because on the way you eye her ass, she knows that’s going to be your endgame but she never thought that you’ll really go for it. She didn’t argue not to retaliate as she’s done what she’s been told, quickly swiveling her figure and bending over the sink as the coldness of the concrete made her yelp a little but she didn’t care.

“Do you have any lube, Chaery? ‘Cause I—”

“Check the front zipper of my bag, it should be there—t-the small bottle with the white tip.” And you were amazed that she’s prepared and ready, as it almost feels like she planned this all along—maybe she did, but you could never be so sure. You then grabbed her bag and got the lube after a few seconds of finding, Chaeryeong then letting out a deep breath as she relaxed herself on what she’s about to take, taking a firm grip onto the ends of the concrete sink.

“So naughty having these things ready, huh, Chaery?”

You squeeze a dollop on the bottle as a favorable amount gets released, and you lathered your fingers around it. You then directed your fingers onto the hot rim of her asshole, making her moan between her words as it felt electrifying. “I guess you’ll never know—ooh, I love your fingers teasing m-me—ahh, so good!”

You continue teasing her puckered hole as it clenches every time your fingers meet it, feeling aroused with the sight of the hole being pleasured by you. An unholy sound escapes Chaeryeong’s lips as you insert your index finger inside her snug walls, moving so sluggish with the thrusts you’re ensuing and wanting more. You pleasure her anally with even the slightest of events even happening inside it, what more wonders you can do once you’ve inserted your whole length inside her walls. You continue your anal fingering up in her ass as she can’t help but let out such erotic moans that it becomes a norm once you move your fingers in a bobbing motion. You twist, circle, withdraw, slam back in, vibrate and it repeats like a cycle, your actions aiming to give Chaeryeong the tease of her lifetime and in order to get her hole ready enough for an absolutely mindless gaping.

“Y-Your finger—up in m-my ass—oh god, i-it’s so good—-so, so fucking good!”

Chaeryeong couldn’t contain her moans as her needs are going absolutely out of hand, herself getting unhinged with the moment your fingers a knuckle-deep, lathering her walls with lube. With this hot scene being started because of you, her hands directly went to her glistening pussy as she tries to finger herself but your other hand stopped her, not wanting her needs to be fulfilled as yours should be attended first, not hers—it’s such a great time to have the higher authority.

“No—I’ll do the rest. Just relax yourself Chaery—god, your ass is so tight with even just my fingers, what more if my cock’s inside this?” You initiated another harsh spank while fingerfucking her ass, which earns the most erotic and hottest moans imaginable on this planet. That alone further ignites the flames of your ruthless teasing, but you can’t help but think of your temptations too, lying low onto the edge of the cliff waiting for someone to pay attention to them and it’s not going to be long until the climax of the show comes off to a start. Now lathering a copious amount of lube onto your shaft and spreading it, from base to tip, you know it’s about to be world-breaking once you feel her tight walls and knowing Chaeryeong is more than ready, you didn’t hesitate to set yourself closer to the promised land.

Without hesitation, you tease your engorged tip onto the rim of her seeking heat as she relaxes her anal muscles to aid for your comfort but it was just too impossible to not feel her utter tightness. Even with just the tip inside, Chaeryeong can’t help but let out her own profanities as your cock is just too pleasurable for her to handle. You tell Chaeryeong to relax herself and let your whole length discover new lengths of her velvety walls and she does so, but you can’t deny the peak tightness her ass is giving and god, it’s too euphoric to be felt as you savor every moment possible.

“God—you’re so fucking tight, Chaery—damn, I’ll make sure you’re going leave out of restroom with a gaped hole and a load dripping down your thighs—s-shit, you’re so tight!”

“O-Oh g-god—gahh—baby, y-you’re so big—just k-keep it all the way in! Oh my fucking god!”

Mutual compliments and involuntary responses is a norm once you've felt each others’ touch as you find yourself relaxing even more, making room for you to plunge your whole length deeper. As you reach new depths of her snug walls, groans of pain and pleasure escape both your sinful mouths as Chaeryeong gets acquainted with the profound length of your whole cock, being buried down to the hilt. Once you’ve filled your entire length inside her, Chaeryeong didn’t let you thrust in for a while as she’s trying to be accustomed to your entire length that’s bound to break her in half on what you have in store.

Yet within seconds, she can’t resist the utter temptation that’s been consuming her earlier, unable to control it and let yourself be the man who will write this down in the history books.

And then, she snaps and lets her carnal desires win, “Now fuck me with everything you can, baby.”

Given the green light, you muster up the built-in energy that has been hibernating all through you and produced such an incredible pace to start this anal session. Chaeryeong’s composition and attunement of moans becomes a newly-profound act that blesses your ears and propels your hips to do such unstoppable thrusts. Gripping her hips for a better leverage, you fuck her in a pace that’s moderate yet every withdrawal with only the tip inside, and then the slamming of your pelvis and filling her up to hilt is hard—it’s so hard that it’s capable to produce such resonating sounds between the frequent clashing of both your bodies. Sounds of broken melodies can be heard around the restroom as inevitable, Chaeryeong drips like a waterfall in every thrust you do, forming a puddle on the marble floor which even fuels you more and arouses you into oblivion. With your hard thrusts, adding a remarkable element that’s poignant in her own view would be a sight to see. So, with that being said, you introduce such hard spanks in every oscillation you do and it just makes the devil inside you lure onto your absolute villainous desires—and it’s breaking you over the limit but you can just find yourself diving into the abyss deeper.

You could just find yourself onto the goal of breaking her apart and make her a tumultuous, whimpering mess and that’s what you need to make her to be at this given moment. You could never muster up a breakneck pace with her marvelous tightness yet you’re capable of mustering such harsh thrusts that everytime your bodies meets, it feels like titans had clashed against each others as the sound emits the epitome of sex and the jiggling of her thighs becomes an hypnotic sight. Every spank you do to her now rosy buttcheeks makes her snug walls clench harder, which makes her even tighter and that feeling is bittersweet—thanks to the lube, everything is just better and much easier.

“Is this what you wanted, hm, Chaery? For your ass to get fucked like a fucking whore in this restroom and then drip like a broken faucet? Shit—you’re goddamn tight still—fuck!!”

“I w-wanted this for—ahh, fuck—s-so long! Pound m-me harder—o-open me and use me!”

Even with such harsh hammerings of your entire length inside her asshole, you still can't fathom how she’s still absurdly tight as it just surprises you that her walls grip like there’s no tomorrow, suffocating the entirety of your member in each thrust you ensue. She’s now being fully submitted onto submissiveness as she falls under the control of you as she’s now absolutely being drowned in the sea of lust and pleasure, absolutely in no man’s land as she tends to be lost in it. You tend to caress her porcelain skin while maintaining an incredible pace of thrusts, and then surprising her with an immediate spank which earns the most beautiful plethora of moans known to man. Your spanks became prominent to the point that Chaeryeong whines uncontrollably without your hand harshly landing a spank on her already red-hued buttcheeks.

Knowing how Chaeryeong’s stimulation is now at an all-time high, you let down your guard and give her mercy as your fingers start swiping down her needy cunt and inserting it inside the velvety heat of her walls. In response, Chaeryeong lets out a cry (can be defined as scream because of how loud and high-pitched it is) as she voices out the marvelous quality of pleasure that has been coursing down her veins. With the harsh onslaught of hard thrusts that you’re giving her and your constant fingering of her wet folds, it didn’t take long for Chaeryeong to achieve her long-awaited orgasm as the constant clenching of both holes makes it evident, another dam bound to break and go loose.

“Oh god—baby, I’m—I’m g-going to cum!!”

“Damn, Chaeryeong—you’re going to cum with your ass getting fucked? Don’t worry, I’ll fulfill your wants right now…”

The prophecy should be fulfilled, and with your incredible acts of stimulation, Chaeryeong breaks loose as she sprays all over the marbled tiles of the sink and some on the floor, marking her earth-thudding orgasm of the day as you didn’t slow down nor get bothered to be concerned with her—Chaeryeong herself even begged for you to keep fucking her ass while she’s in a transcending state of bliss and you did just that. With the given scene of her cumming, it got you more riled up and aroused that you couldn’t contain the lust that has been inside you, shackled from its confines. Even with the cock-drunken Chaeryeong, she helped you achieve your own high by fucking herself onto your raging length and you can just find yourself in the paramount of happiness and there’s nothing you can ask for.

Now with the blissful event coming onto a near close, you wanted to savor and make the best out of this. So, you immediately commanded her to take her hands off the sink and place it at the back of her waist and suddenly, she obliged onto your command and did it as you wrapped your hands around it and you made that as a leverage onto a mindless fuckery. You overdo yourself with your recent masterclass, further ramming in your hips into her snug hole and aiming to gape her open until you’re filling her up to the hilt. At this point, Chaeryeong is just in a pure state of bliss and incoherent to articulate such words yet she still manages to encourage you to cum sooner as she wants it for so long and she doesn’t need to wait further because it’s coming near.

“Come o-on—oh fuck—cum i-in my slutty, t-tight assho—le—fuck, just c-cum in please! Please, oh f-fuck!”

Giving her the last, few hard thrusts, you bury your entire length in her as you spray such copious amounts of semen that painted every inch of her anal walls white. Wanting to extend the orgasm, your hips oscillate more thrusts until you grow sensitive and then stop, your entire length just buried inside her ass and refusing to pull out.

Yet there’s no way you can stay inside her forever even though you want to. So, you slowly pulled out with all of the strength you have as it’s so unbearably tight that you thought it would be possible to pull out of her snug hole. You took a moment to appreciate her completely gaped asshole, your cum oozing out of it as it slowly drips down to her thighs due to the vast volume of it.

Guess rearranging her guts to the fullest and making her legs almost viable to give out is such a dream, and would want to live here forever.

“Congratulations, the both of you cheated against each other—hah~ you came a lot in me—oh…”

You don’t know whether you’ll be delighted or vexed with that though, yet you feel an immense amount of joy after having a rough, anal fucking with an incredibly hot girl named Lee Chaeryeong.

“Yah—stop mentioning her but—god, that was good, Chaery…” You let out exasperated breaths as you can see Chaeryeong is doing the same, but she painted a satisfied grin onto the mirror before facing down and letting out more breaths. The both of you rushed to fix yourselves and dress up as you two completely forgot that you’re still in a public place and wanting to get out of this filthy, sinful place. After that, Chaeryeong pulls your wrist as you face her, giving an interesting look as you anticipate what she will say.

“Hey, give me your phone.”

“Why?” You reach out on your phone at your jacket as she grabs it swiftly, carefully tapping onto your phone as she answers, “I’m going to give you my number—you seem like an interesting guy.”

When she’s done, she gave it to you with a sincere smile on her face but it doesn’t end just like that, and gave her phone to you to enter yours so the both of you will now have contacts towards each other. You press multiple buttons while you hubristically talk with her, “You’re a nice girl too, Chaery—” You then give her phone back, not without a faint smile that emanates delight around the room. “—and thanks for the treat…”

Chaeryeong scoffs as she gets shy again, yet her eyes tell you how much she’s thankful for you. “Thanks too—you’re such a great fuck.” Chaeryeong then fixes her things and herself as she mutters one thing before leaving with you, “I’ll be expecting you tomorrow, at this bar, around 4 P.M., okay? I gotta get to know you better and hopefully you sort things out with her and leave that douchebag, okay?”

Your heart struck like you won a lottery and her boldness, fuck, you think that she’s really the perfect one for you and this is maybe the endeavor you’ve been looking for—and it’s just getting started.

#kinknuary 2024 #itzy smut #chaeryeong smut #itzy x male reader #chaeryeong x male reader

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ineffably-human · 8 months

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The day Guillermo slaughtered a theatre of vampires, Nandor looked up and actually saw him. 'My name is Guillermo de la Cruz' burned like a silver knife in his brain. And that's the day Nandor started rooting for him.

Making him a bodyguard, insistent that's what he was. Watching him so carefully. 'Push back. Break the rules. Talk about yourself. I can't do it for you. If I do it for you then you've already lost.' Guillermo slapped him and his eyes lit up. Guillermo fought him, and he only wanted more. Guillermo said 'I can kill you whenever I want, I choose not to,' and it's what he was waiting for.

Nandor stands at the train station, feeling awake for the first time in months as he considers all the variables. The normal bite won't be enough, not for a Van Helsing. He'll have to drink someone right away, just to be sure. Will it feel the same for him, to hunt a human the way Nandor's watched him hunt a vampire? Maybe if they do it together. Maybe there's a lot that Guillermo can do very easily, if they do it together. Maybe there's a lot Nandor can do, very easily, if-

(...he's not coming. Well, familiars have balked at less.)

It's such a genuine surprise when he reappears. Why everything happened doesn't matter, exactly; Guillermo doesn't fight to get any of it back. He's so angry, so ready to leave, and by all rights Nandor should let him. But all he can feel is the instinct to stop him. Perhaps if he has actual love in this house, something to fill the void... Maybe there's one more thing Guillermo can do for him before his exit.

It's a strange year. Guillermo is not in his service, so much as he's a friend charged with service. His mind is so pulled in different directions - raising the Colin-creature, helping at the club, buying his gaudy new clothes that aren't vampire-like at all. Talking on the phone, sometimes in the other language he speaks, sometimes in secret whispers Nandor doesn't try to figure out.

If Guillermo doesn't want him to know, then he doesn't. He can't begrudge him a life outside this house anymore. It's like Guillermo has remembered how to be human.

Maybe he has. Nandor takes him to fight, wants to see that fire in his eyes again, but Guillermo only wants peace. They never talk about him becoming a vampire. Guillermo doesn't ask once. At the wedding, Guillermo promises to always be there when Nandor is afraid. Nandor wonders what 'always' means to him.

When he meets Freddie, things click into place a bit. Nandor is happy for him, truly. Suspicious, of course - this is a stranger in their home, one who clearly doesn't know their secrets. But such a kind and engaging stranger. And intriguing, like a little secret corner of Guillermo Nandor has never been able to reach. Nandor has been so lonely lately, he keeps getting everything he wants and yet he's lonelier than ever -

Nandor fucks up. Nandor fixes. Or does his best, anyway.

Guillermo goes to London one day, comes home with a look in his eyes like something broken. They don't talk about it.

Guillermo is back to dusting. He sits beside Nandor and smiles, placid and friendly. 'So, what's next?' But he doesn't ask. And Nandor can't ask it for him. That's not how this works.

And suddenly, Guillermo is a million miles away. Suddenly, Guillermo would rather be anywhere than with Nandor.

He talks about being a vampire for the first time in a year, but there's a strangeness to it. A wariness. When they laugh at the idea, he doesn't push back. There's no fire.

Something is wrong, honestly wrong, but Nandor can't bring himself to think about it seriously. Guillermo still runs from even the thought of their orgies. (So it can't be what he's thinking of, can it?) Their first big crisis as a household in a while, their bodyguard is nowhere to be found. (Is he a bodyguard anymore? A familiar? A lot more like Laszlo's familiar, these days...)

'I'm not going to be around forever.' Well, fine. He can survive that. He's survived far worse, and so has Guillermo.

And Guillermo is not just here right now, but is alive right now - wonderfully, blessedly alive - and Nandor won't be forced to think about his death for a while yet.

The one thing he knows for sure is that Guillermo would never do anything to hurt him, to hurt any of them. And maybe that's why it never worked out. You have to do so much more than survive, to be a vampire.

-- When everything that happened becomes clear, when his rage fades to anger fades to acceptance, there's still responsibility. Responsibility to his familiar, responsibility to his friend.

And when Guillermo's heart is too full, and spills over whatever bloodlust he had, Nandor wishes he were surprised. Guillermo has iron in him but it's been forged into a shield, after all this time. There are no little leftover bits Nandor might have helped him shape into a pair of fangs.

Guillermo can feed a family, or defend one, or defend himself. But he won't kill unless he has to, and his own survival - or his own happiness - is not a 'has to'. Fine. Guillermo has fought for him. Nandor can fight, too.

His own anger still needs a more constructive place to go. So he looks at Guillermo's wretched sire - who never even wanted to be a vampire, and then made a vampire so thoughtlessly. Who hasn't come to see Guillermo, who couldn't figure out how to help him, who doesn't even know that he's in pain.

Nandor drives a stake into the heart of a vampire. And it feels good.

Maybe now, he can also be angry at himself a little less.

#i can't believe nandor's choices about guillermo were deliberate while *also* never intending to help him or give him what he wanted #but i love the idea of nandor actually seeing guillermo all this time #never *completely* and not always in the way guillermo needed #but still always watching him out of responsibility out of love #fandom: wwdits #otp: nandermo #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #nandermo #i am a meta gremlin

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cursedcola · 1 year

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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul (here!), Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. I've been thinking about maybe programming a small fan-made mini-otome using these ideas. Just for some practice for school while also being self indulgent hehe

Riddle Rosehearts

Very traditional, but this is expected. He asks your closest of kin (a cat, to his horror) for permission to propose. Regardless of Grimm's answer, there is already a ring that's been purchased. This is merely formality

He comes up with an elaborate plan to execute the 'perfect' proposal. Riddle maps it all out and runs multiple drafts by his childhood friends. Everything must go perfectly - or else you might not accept. Is it likely that not presenting you with exactly 12 red roses with the spikes trimmed and arranged with 6 sprigs of baby's breath will be the reason you decline? Likely not. Will he chance it though? No.

Despite all his planning, he is a nervous wreak. Our red prince is great at masking it though. He plans an entire evening down to the last detail. You both go to a upscale restaurant that serves your favorite cuisine under the pretense that you're celebrating an amazing jab offer Riddle received the day prior. There's dinner, dancing, a romantic atmosphere, and delightful conversation (he prepared conversation topics in advance in case he felt nervous).

Oh look, there just so happens to be an outdoor garden to take an evening stroll through. Would you like to go?

Of course you would, and he asks you to wait outside as he visits the restroom. After you pass through the back door, a nearby waiter slips him the bouquet of twelve roses that he dropped off in the morning. He counts them, checks the stems, the ribbon holding them together, and with a relieved sigh he reaches into his pocket.

Riddle nestles the engagement ring within the core of the center rose, and for a moment his anxiety quells. He looks through the outside door's windowpane, and sees you patiently waiting for him while admiring the garden lights. The anxiety returns, but he's ready. With a knuckle-white grip on the flowers, he passes through the doors.

"Hello...I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. I had a matter of great importance to attend to - wha? No! Not that- ugh. I wasn't in the restroom! Only you would make such a childish remark on such an important day...No, do not apologize. I was not referring to my career. Perhaps these flowers will provide some clarity. I hope they are to you liking,"

When you notice the ring, he gently takes it and gets down on one knee. Riddles heart rattles against his ribcage, and his the mask of calm falters. He holds out the ring with one hand, and the other lightly trembles as it reaches for yours.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my spouse? I promise that you will be cared for dearly, and that I will work tirelessly to become a husband that you will be proud of,"

{Riddle's ring is a mix of new and old. Tradition dictates a diamond for a wedding ring, but he knows better. Riddle wants you to think of him every time you see this ring, so he chooses to stray. Three rubies sit nested in diamonds. The color of his hair, which you love to poke fun of so much. It represents how he is willing to consistently change while still holding on to his core values, all so he can become a husband worthy of you}

Trey Clover

A simple man, and therefore takes a simple approach. The depth of his proposal lies in the timing. He does not know when he will be ready to commit, or how to tell if you are ready to as well.

Trey puts proposing off for the longest time. He acts in baby steps. The idea toys with him for months, until one day he convinces himself that he is ready. After that he slowly begins to look at rings, and think of ideas. He wants to be original, but would that overwhelm you? He would sooner die than do something tacky like a public proposal at a concert or event...but is that something you might want?

If there is one thing Trey is certain about, its that rejection would break him. He knows that your relationship would never be the same if he proposed too early, or if he managed to royally screw it up. He's not a fan of attention. This is awful. Oh Great Sevens it's a pressure that he never dreamed of having to undergo.

But if he doesn't propose...would you? Are you waiting for him? what if you're thought process is the same as his?

Completely out of character for Trey, he ends up proposing on impulse. He woke up one morning and saw the ring tucked away in his sock drawer. For the millionth time he had to face the "I should just do it," thoughts and decided to act on them

The day is new, neither of you had work, and a quick glance over his shoulder proves that you would be soundly sleeping for at least the next hour. So what's he do? Trey puts on his nicest casual clothes. Nothing formal, but also nothing that is sloppy. Then he marches downstairs and starts to make breakfast. He decides to prepare tarts, a reminiscence of your days as students and where you first met. As he arranges them on a platter, he places the ring inside one made with your favorite flavor. It peaks out just enough for anyone to notice, and with a huff Trey steps back to admire his work.

His hands are slightly clammy, and quickly moves to busy himself in fear he might chicken out. It helps for a time, until he hears your footsteps approach the kitchen, followed by a sleepy 'good morning' and arms wrapping around his torso

He steels himself, and turns over in your arms to kiss the top of your head. With a nervous laugh, Trey gestures to the platter of fruit tarts and smiles at how the sight of food causes you to perk up. Like clockwork, you reach for your favorite flavor and quickly notice the metal chunk inside

He reigns in panic as you dig the ring out and eye it with a quirked brow. A moment of silence passes before it clicks, and you whip to gawk at him with the largest bugeyes he has ever seen. Wordlessly, Trey takes the ring, wipes off any crumbs with his shirt, and takes your hands in his

"I'm sorry to spring this on you so early in the morning. It must be quite the wakeup call, huh? Haha...The truth is, I have wanted to give this to you for such a long time. I simply did not know how. I had a burst of courage this morning, and am honestly running on pure adrenaline. I love you...I want to spend our lives together. Will you marry me?"

{Trey's ring is a single pearl on a gold band. He feels that the ring should reflect it's wearer, and you are one of the most naturally beautiful people he has ever seen. There is beauty in simplicity - in seeing things as they are with no modifications. You do that for him, and he loves how your relationship is authentic}

Cater Diamond

Marriage? Huh. See, in the past that was a no-go. Very constricting and he didn't enjoy the idea of getting linked to someone in that regard. An s/o with no legal binding? Sure. It's just a title anyways, right? That kind of thing shouldn't matter in the long run.

Except it did end up being relevant, and now Cater wants to beat himself up because he explicitly told you once things were getting serious that he wasn't interested in marriage. You were fine with doing either and left the decision up to him. Very nice of you to be so nonchalant , and now he knows that marriage isn't 'off the table'. There is a chance.

A chance that requires him to both propose and take back his initial stance. Which is kind of humiliating. The take back part, not the proposal. Cater is confident that he can blow you away. He doesn't need shoddy internet advice, or to to do extensive research to be perfect. Nope. It's all in his noggin. He knows you like the back of his hand and therefore can concoct a speech to woo you easily.

So what comes first, the chicken or the egg? Does he try to casually tip you of that he's interested in getting married before trying to propose? No. That would be incredibly dull and ruin the element of surprise. Cater always hated those crappy half-baked romance films where the loser male lead is all 'oh honey I promise I will propose. Just give me time,' because hello???? You spoiled it??? Also don't make promises that you don't plan to keep, douchebag. How dull.

He decides that it's all or nothing. Cater spends an entire night online shopping for a ring. He already knows all of your sizes...don't ask how or why. Anyway, ordering is a cinche. Just ignore his eyebags the next day and his snappy attitude. He can't even whine about how tired he is because that would mean he has to say why he didn't sleep and -EUGH. He is torn between his two loves. Complaining for attention, and wooing you for attention. It's rough.

It comes in the mail, and after checking the package he decides to seal it back up again. It looks untouched thanks to his skills. Then, he sets up the living room to look like he is filming a video for his magicam. Specifically an unboxing video, and makes sure to let you know that it's from one of your favorite companies.

You take the bait, and he asks you to join him. Even if your camera shy, he insists that for just this one video you hop on. He might be a bit tricky and give you ideas about the product in the box (making sure to align them with a hobby or fandom that you're into). He sets the camera to record, plops down casually at your side, and hands you the box cutter. Go crazy.

Cater can't help but giggle when you open the box - just to pull out another small box. You eye it cautiously, now suspicious that this might be a prank. He urges you to open the box, and you do so while holding it at arms-length away from your face.

The ring's gem sparkles in the camera light, and he watches amused as you pull it closer. With a shaky hand, you take it out of the box and inspect it. With the way you side-eye him, Cater can tell that you're wondering if this situation is a cruel prank...

"Tada~~ You like? -- WAIT! Before you get upset just let me explain! There is no video. That was a lie, and I'm sorry for it. I surprised you good though, right?...ahem, uhm. I'm not pranking you. If you feel the same, then I want for us to get married! I know what I said before, and I take it back. The time we have spent together made me realize that I only felt that way - well, because I was unable to imagine liking someone enough to share my life. So...do you want to marry me?"

{A diamond for a diamond. Diamonds are reflective. They glitter, and are clear. They are also viewed as the best choice for a ring, but in actuality they have are not. They're only considered perfect because of marketing. In actuality, they're quite the opposite. This same reasoning applies to Cater - and you understand. Yet, you still love him. The diamond represents himself, and the heart shape is to remind you how much you mean to him}

Deuce Spade

He may be young, but he is not stupid...alright. Deuce is not always stupid. Sometimes? Yes. He makes poor decisions and lets his emotions get the better of him.

This? Not a poor decision, and he will never EVER think twice about it. From the moment the idea entered Deuce's head, it was decided. HE would become your husband. Nothing would stop him.

It began during his final year at Night Raven College. Graduation approached, and everyone was excited. Everyone, except for one person. You. He didn't notice it at first, being too hung up over how he actually managed to do well in school. Get this, he even became Heartslabyul Drumhead after Riddle graduated! What an honor! His mother was proud of him, and he was proud of himself! He had career aspirations, plans to get a home back home, and even a lovely s/o to flaunt. Life was great.

What...do you mean? That you're not going back with him? The Queendom of Roses is such a beautiful place! He's certain that you'll love it and can become adjusted. Why do you want to stay at this academy? Was three years not enough?

Deuce has never gotten mad at you before. A little miffed, sure, but never frustrated. He didn't like it. Not these feelings, or how he failed to notice that you planned this from the start. He was so wrapped up in his own happiness, that he failed to see that you felt troubled over his assumptions. It stung. In a moment of weakness, he left you alone, scared that he might raise his voice at you.

He needed to think. Alone. Thankfully he moved past sharing a room with Ace when Deuce became Housewarden. His phone rang many times. Some calls from you, Ace, his mother...for once, Deuce didn't think her advice could help him. Not when he was so confused.

He thought over his dreams for after college. They were the same that he had since prior to enrolling. Nothing changed...except for you and the other unexpected friends he made along the way. It began to settle within him that the unpredicted parts were more important to him than what he initially planned. The image of him as a successful worker, on his own, and being successful were all hollow if they didn't include you. Deuce wasn't upset that you planned to stay at NRC, he was upset that you didn't plan to stay with him.

Or did you? He interpreted it as such in the moment, but he's not so sure. All Deuce knows is that you're his best friend and the love of his life. If you stay here without him, will that change? He doesn't want to find out.

The next day, he's determined. It's impulsive, this he knows. Yet it's what feels right in his heart and Deuce has always trusted his gut instinct. This choice is entirely on him. No one's advice to excuse it if you don't reciprocate, and yet he isn't afraid. He might not have a ring, or fancy offerings. All he has is his love to offer, and a willingness to work around any obstacle. The hurt from the night prior sill aches in his chest, but he has done difficult things before. The pain merely serves as a reminder for how he hurt you, and what his future might be like if he doesn't act.

He finds you before breakfast. When the first rays of sunshine peak over the horizon and the air is still moist with morning dew. You lingered in the hall of mirrors, specifically near the portal to Heartslabyul Hall. Your presence startled him, and he nearly headbutt you from the speed he was going through the portal. Were you...planning to visit him? His heart shuddered in a mix of guilt and happiness. Even after the way he behaved, you still cared.

Upon closer inspection, you appear just as disheveled as him. He must have caused you a great deal of worry...damn it. He can't even be mad at himself. Not with things as they are.

Before you have a chance to speak, he hushes you. Deuce's jaw sets in determination and he reaches into his uniform pocket. He pulls out a paper ring. One that children often give each other on the playground when playing family. He then gets down on one knee, and holds it out with both hands.

"I am sorry. I never intended to hurt you, or push my ambitions on to you. I simply love you more than anything else, and was afraid that you did not want to be together anymore. I was afraid...that being apart would take away what we have. I realize that I was wrong. I didn't see it happening, but being with you has caused me to develop dreams beyond what I initially planned. Nothing I imagine feels right, unless you are in the picture. I don't have a proper ring prepared just yet...but will you marry me? I promise that no matter where we are - for better or worse, I will make you happy. I swear it!

{Your initial ring is made out of his most recent homework assignment. It's frail, and one drop of water will break it. However, he meticulously folded it and it is the byproduct of many imperfect prototypes. The paper ring truly represents who Deuce is. It's rushed, fragile, and full of love}

{He chooses a vintage ring. With both of your initials engraved on the center, he hopes that this ring attests to a promise no matter where you both are. It's rose-gold, not as bright as pure gold but still beautiful. The mixed color represents the different worlds you both come from, as well as your melded life}

Ace Trappolla

Ace tends to get comfortable, and when that happens it is difficult to ignite change. However, he is also headstrong. More than many give him credit for. So once the problem is identified, it's only a matter of time until he does something about it. What he does isn't necessarily always the best solution, sure; however, when threatened he will indeed act.

Initially Ace did not plan to find love. For a long time, he rejected it and passed his feelings off as a small crush. You're attractive, he's a man, a lil of this and a lil of that - who wouldn't feel a little heart throb once in a while? It only became an issue when you became one of his best friends. It felt like he was betraying you with these thoughts. They became a problem.

His first solution was to repress them further. Like stated, he noticed a problem and so he acted. Was this the best choice? No. It ended in a dumpster-fire. Any time another student even remotely expressed interest in you, Ace felt threatened. He couldn't spend time at your side without indecent thoughts popping up. Not like 'that' (geez, get your mind out of the gutter people), but more so domestic. Ick. What was happening?!

He couldn't hold it in, and his confession will forever be known as a feels-dump that started with you sharing half of your grilled-cheese with him because he missed lunch.

Yeah. Humiliating. Ugh.

Now you're his partner, of a long time. A very, very, very long time. Years post graduation. You both have settled into life together, so why tack a title? It's not like those mean anything, right? Everything was perfect as is, and weddings are expensive. You never brought it up either, so why worry?

Well, those titles do mean things in the eyes of the law. Ace never thought to get documentation about emergency contacts and whatnot updated. So when hit his head and got a concussion when jogging? The hospital wouldn't let you in. Not until he woke up, which was the longest four hours of your life.

You didn't express how much it bothered you, but words weren't necessary. The muted panic that you tried to hold back was enough. He expected you to enter his room angry, but instead all he got was defeat. That sight alone hurt worse than the leg.

The event got Ace thinking about things he hadn't in a long time - like marriage. He got too comfortable after letting the thought go once. To him, you were already irreplicable. Years do that, and he's certain that you feel the same way about him. If his young self could see him now...pah, he was such a turd. All 'I don't need anyone,' and empty words to play tough-guy. Little did he know that the person he would need the most in life was only a dimension-hop away haha.

It's that simple, really. No panic or nervousness. Ace decided definitively that he was going to marry you, and it only took years of being an airhead to figure it out.

He spends the night in the hospital for surveillance, and the staff is kind enough to prove you with a cot to sleep on. He stubbornly drags it next to his bed, and once you're sleeping soundly he 3slips a bandage over your ring finger to take the measurement

He planned to go buy the ring instantly after being discharged, but you wouldn't leave his side. Nagging about bed-rest and taking it easy...ugh! He needs to do this thing! No, he can't tell you about it. It's a secret!.....ugh, fine. One more day. Just because he loves the attention.

The next morning after, he's excitedly going to the nearest jewelers. He doesn't have a particular ring in mind, but he's done some research! It's the idea behind the ring that's important anyways....alright. Maybe he'll call up Cater.

Ace does nothing extravagant. He sticks to comfort. You, him, both eating dinner while watching a movie on the TV that evening. He quickly scarfs down his meal within the first 10 minutes and runs to your shared room after ditching his dishes. Stashed in his wallet, he pulls put the ring and hides it in his palm.

Ace tries to be smooth. He dims the living room lights, and sits down closer to you than before. He moves to take your hand with the one holding the ring, and sneak it on to your finger.

It fails, obviously. Who wouldn't notice someone trying to shove a piece of metal on their finger? You pull away on instinct, and the ring falls between the couch cushions. He freaks out for a moment and sifts through them as you continue to eat between giggles. Only when he holds the ring up in triumph do you quiet down.

"Not so funny now, is it? - Nah, just kidding. It was pretty funny....although I wanted this to be a bit more romantic. Eh. It's fine. From the look on your face, I'm guessing that you know what this is?...Uhh. Yeah. I thought it was a good time, y'know? We've been together so long that I already do think of you as my partner. I think you feel the same? Feel free to jump in if not....but, yeah. I love you. A lot. I'd really like to make it official, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get the guts to ask. Will you marry me?"

{Tradition is for chumps. Ace wanted to get something fun and eye-catching. Many suggested otherwise, but this felt right. Your relationship has never been conventional and never will be. Hell, screw 'conventional,' because it's perfect as it is and so is this ring. He knows that this ring will draw your attention, and that's all he cares about}

End Note: None of the ring pictures are mine. I pulled them off of google images because - well, I had ideas and tried to find rings to match them. I write fanfic, not weld jewelry.

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izvmimi · 7 months

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stubborn - izuku x reader

cw: infidelity as a topic, escalating mind games, jealousy, tbh toxic behavior but it’s okay cuz uwu, fem!reader, smut (oral female receiving, use of the word ‘brat’, penetrative sex). 5.6k words. summary: izuku is as good at playing games as you are, or is he? a/n: a repost!

Izuku is far too placid when in the midst of an argument, you blurt out that you’re officially done with him.

In fact, there’s the ghost of a smile that flickers on his features, and you know that smile. It’s the same smile he gives you when he teases you, especially when he’s balls deep inside you and you’re whining about how little more you can take while he coos and reminds you that you can give him just a little more room, the same way you’ve done many times before, right?

It’s the smile that signals that he is in no way taking you seriously, that he knows you are completely and utterly wrapped. Your teeth clench and so do your fists.

“Midoriya.”

His eyebrows raise. From his vantage point, you look as cute as usual, eyebrows knit together and lips twisted into a snarl. It reminds him somewhat of an angry prey animal, he thinks, and he’s resisting the urge to pat you on the head.

“Yes, baby?”

He makes the mistake of widening his grin as he says this and defeated, you let out a cry of frustration, blood rushing to your ears and heart thumping as you rush out of the living room. There’s a loud slam that sounds once you’ve reached the bedroom and the hero is left alone to consider his actions.

Izuku tolerates a lot from you, he thinks. It doesn’t mean he thinks he’s always right and does manage to begrudgingly accept his shortcomings, but the jealousy, the mood swings, and the neediness can sometimes get to him, even if they’re flaws you wear cutely. Giving you a moment to simmer down and letting the argument replay in his head, he lets out a sigh and settles on the couch to take off his boots. If you were out here, you’d complain about getting his sweaty suit off your furniture, but you’re not here, are you?

Izuku doesn’t think too much of the situation until he’s fully showered and knocks on the door to change into comfortable pajamas, only to find that the door is unlocked, you are laying on your stomach with your feet kicking, positively giddy, and in deep focus on your phone. Thinking that the argument has dissipated - you’re never mad at him for more than a couple hours anyway - he lets himself approach and decides against laying his entire weight on top of you, instead choosing to lay behind you, eyes on your form. You’re pretending you don’t even notice him.

“What’s got you giggling so much?” He finally asks, curiously turning to the side and resting his head on your shoulder. You don’t move sharply, instead allowing yourself to support the weight.

“I’m finding my replacement.”

He holds in a sigh that nearly rattles his bones.

“You can’t be serious.”

At that, you turn immediately, eyes wide, classic crazy look in your eyes. He purses his lips.

You are definitely serious.

Before he can even begin to reason you, you excitedly show your phone to him, scrolling through a list of matches you’ve already procured for him, despite the fact that you could not possibly have been working on this for more than an hour.

“You’re quite popular, Mr. Number One Hero!” you chirp.

He rolls onto his back and grabs a pillow and screams lightly into it for a moment, before turning back to face you calmly.

“Please delete this.”

“Why? I have three dates lined up for you over the next two weeks.” You pout. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint these lovely women, would you, Mr. Midoriya?”

There’s a nervous tick in his jaw at the polite appellation but he can see the glint in your eyes. Two can play this game.

“You’re right, and I trust you, darling,” he says, lips curling into a teasing grin. He rolls over onto his belly, pulling off the small towel that wraps around his waist and tosses it to the side, a motion that engages the muscles of his back just enough that you can pretend you don’t see them ripple. You try not to look at his ass because you’re angry. You are so, so angry.

“Give me the schedule and I’ll go. I don’t think they’ll manage to be as lovely as you, but I’ll try my best.” His green eyes twinkle as he watches you not look, then places a hand on the small of your back, and the contact almost shocks through your spine.

You get up immediately and leave the room, ignoring his low chuckle as you hide the warmth blooming in your face.

—

Midoriya cannot believe he’s actually seated at a mom and pop restaurant at the end of the week with a woman he’s never met in his entire life. You had actually called his bluff at calling your bluff, and had even gone so far as to lay out his clothes in the morning and adjust the collar of his shirt.

“Can we not do this?” He had asked right before leaving the house. You’d simply smiled sweetly, venomously.

“Real love awaits, sir!” You flashed him a thumbs up and the genuine way in which your teeth gleamed almost struck fear in his heart. “Go get ‘em, tiger!”

His entire way to the location, he had been considering what manner of trap this was. Would there be cameras? Kirishima, who was like an older brother to you waiting to beat his ass (even though he wasn’t completely sure what he did wrong and arguably may have done nothing wrong aside from being extraordinarily busy for the past two weeks)?

But alas, rather than a trap, or you in a different outfit, there was an admittedly beautiful young woman who smiled shyly back at him as he took his seat.

The first thing he does is tell the truth.

“Hi, um, yeah so…” he scratches his head. “Let me explain a couple things first before there’s any misunderstanding…”

His voice trails off as he notices the slight distress in her features, but decides it’s better to hurt her feelings now than later.

“I was not the one managing my Tinder profile. Whatever may have been said to you was not said by me and-”

She nods emphatically and he stops. “Wait, you know what I’m about to say?”

“Yeah, your profile says it’s managed by your ex-girlfriend and we chatted a bit through messages.”

There’s a little bit of heat that reaches his ears, not pleasant heat at all, but mild irritation. He presses his lips together as she continues.

“She said something about wanting to make sure she set you up with someone better than her since you won’t accept your breakup.”

Izuku’s eye twitches but he smiles peacefully and takes a sip of his coffee.

“She said you were a very sweet guy though so I’m assuming you’re on good terms?” The young lady laughs coyly, a hand covering her mouth as she does. Coquettish, he thinks, then he remembers how you literally said you’d set him up with someone cute and coquettish and his heart starts to race.

“We’re on excellent terms,” he says finally, breathing through his nose, then takes a look at the menu.

She giggles a bit and it annoys him because none of this is funny. Not for a second.

“She chose really good pictures,” the woman says softly, who Izuku recalls from the schedule you had the nerve to send him is named Sachiko, reaching for her glass of water. Izuku mirrors the action because his throat is suddenly terribly dry.

He clears his throat. You’ve gone too far.

“What would you like to order?” Izuku asks in his most charming voice.

—

“You didn’t take her home?” You ask, voice dripping of malice, curled up into the bedsheets of your California King. He considers shooting you a dirty look but he doesn’t; rather he strips painfully slowly and again you avert your eyes. This time he doesn’t laugh at your ridiculous attempt to pretend you don’t find him attractive, and instead, he stands stark naked in his underwear, arms crossed and feet squared as though you are an actual adversary. Maybe you enjoy being the villain in his story for once.

You look up from your book, noticing his stillness in your peripheral vision. He looks good when he’s angry, you think, his face twisted into a scowl and breathing a little heavier than usual. You watch the rise and fall of his chest, then bid him to speak.

“What?”

He shakes his head, like he can’t believe he’s really saying what he has to say next.

“First of all, I don’t fuck on the first date.” You tilt your head ever so slightly with a mock inquisitive look that bids him to go on.

“Don’t look at me like that, if I did, we absolutely would have,” he replies flippantly. You pretend to disregard that sentence. Then it hits you. We, as in you and him or we as in, he and her?

“Second of all, you’re going to regret this. Good night,” he insists before finding his way beside you in bed. You dramatically scoot over to the very edge of the bed, but he’s annoyed enough that his back is turned to you.

Good, you think, and turn the page in your book. The plot thickens deliciously.

—

Izuku doesn’t bother explaining himself on the date the following week. Rather, he treats it like a business meeting and speaks politely, diverting any flirty comments to other topics. He wishes you hadn’t picked such an expensive restaurant but the truth was, the food was good enough to match the price.

The woman today is not Sachiko - while Sachiko was petite and sold the moe angle quite well, Natsumi was a bit more direct and businesslike. Still, not quite like you and frankly a little bit too talkative. According to you, who were having the time of your life swiping right and left with his likeness, Sachiko had wanted a second date, but any time you broached the subject, he simply refused to respond and you, despite all of your ability to push buttons know when to stop. Now faced with Natsumi who was giving him his life story and testing his patience while he was trying to get through his Hamburg steak, he realized Sachiko might have been better.

“So why did you and your ex break up?”

Izuku swallowed another piece of meat quickly.

“We did not.”

Natsumi gave him a quizzical look.

“So why are you on a date with me?”

“To indulge her.”

Natsumi leans back in her chair then picks at her fingernails.

“Wow, you really are in denial, like she said.”

In Izuku’s eyes, this date is even more over than it was when it began.

When he comes home this time, you are talking and laughing animatedly on the phone to your mother as you cook a late dinner for yourself and rather than interrupt your conversation, he slips past you and puts the entrée he’d gotten for you in the front of the fridge.

You give him a glance then look away. Your mouth twists to the side, now that you realize you’re testing more than a little of his patience.

When you finally hang up the phone and put away your hot food to reheat the one he’s brought back for you, you ask in a small voice:

“Did you enjoy the food?”

He’s staring at the TV, looking without looking, and you can see that muscle in his jaw again tense before he turns to face you.

“It was delicious.”

You poke at the plate in front of you and concur. The food really is heavenly. Maybe you should pull back. It’s very clear that this man has no intention on breaking up with you and you can’t even remember what you were even mad about. There’s still a date left but canceling it with a 5 days notice isn’t the worst thing you can do. Your boyfriend has clearly learned his lesson, you think.

Then he says,

“Hey, can you arrange a second date for Sachiko? I’d like to see her again.”

And then rage consumes you again.

“Of course,” you say sweetly.

—

“I didn’t think I’d see you again!” Sachiko exclaims. Izuku had watched her run towards him, beaming smile accentuated by the bright winter sun’s rays reflected by the snow. Her cheeks are red and she looks as though she is blowing smoke, huffing and puffing as she catches her breath. She’s dressed for the weather, and so is he, and he notices the thick gloves that she’s wearing. His own hands are bare.

An ice skating date.

You must actually be prepared to lose him at this point.

Sachiko grins widely and Izuku, looking down at her again now that she is right next to him, realizes she really is cute. Not cuter than you, he wouldn’t go that far, but cute enough.

She doesn’t know how to ice skate and stays very close, and Izuku lets her cling onto his sleeve, then eventually hold his hand.

—

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

The phrase ran through your head over and over again, and had been the first thing you thought of when you reread her message for the third, the fourth, and the fifth time.

Hi, I hope this isn’t weird but I just wanted to thank you.

(I hope it’s not you, Izuku, ‘cause that would be awkward! 😊)

I wanted to let you know that it must be hard to give up your partner, especially when they seem so nice! But I’m grateful. We’ll be texting privately from now on!

Maybe we can be friends someday? I’d like to meet you in person too!

You swallow hard for a moment, reading the message again and again and again.

Texting privately. The familiar use of his name. It was two dates only. Why was she so confident? Why was she thanking you?

You found yourself thumbing through her profile again, really scrutinizing her again, taking particular care to commit her soft features to memory and the warm demeanor you could see through her many photos.

You swallowed hard again.

Did you mess up? Did you finally push too hard?

The sound of the door opening suddenly startled you enough that you ended up dropping your phone in the bowl of the bathroom sink. Izuku, appearing behind you suddenly as he turned into the bathroom to check looked you up once up and down and muttered a soft greeting.

“You okay?”

Maybe you were imagining it, but the timbre of his voice was less Izuku and more Deku, the Hero, who asked everyone if they were okay. Who belonged to everyone. Or maybe really not everyone, just not you.

Despite your throat feeling as though it would close up, you nod. He says nothing more and suddenly you wish you could take it all back.

—

Two weeks have passed since your declaration of singlehood akin to a declaration of war, and just a few days since Sachiko thanked you for handing over the love of your life on a platter. Unwilling to admit that you regret your game, you resort to not speaking to him at all - at least not more than to reply to his good morning or his good night. You can feel him shift gently in the middle of the night, sometimes to face you, and you wonder if he’ll put his arm around your waist and nuzzle his chin in the crook of your shoulder, but he stops short and you’re left wanting, regretting. Now you start to make arrangements. Where will you go once you officially break up rather than theoretically? This is his apartment after all. Should you tell your mother so she’s not surprised when you turn up at her doorstep and she can’t call him her future son-in-law?

You’re not sure what your endgame was, but whatever this is, you don’t like it.

So you do what you do best. Make do with what is presented to you.

Izuku doesn’t say a word once he leaves your home just before noon, leaving you to quietly attend to work-related affairs as you type on your computer. From the calendar on the refrigerator, you’re reminded he has a midday shift 12-10pm, but still a part of you wonders if he’ll sneak off at any point to meet Sachiko. Why wouldn’t he? You’re broken up after all.

Sachiko is so cute you would date her if you had the chance. You really did choose far too well.

You can’t focus on work anymore, you decide after staring at a blank screen for the next hour. Your head is pounding and your throat, although it no longer wants to close up, is dry and water isn’t fixing it. There’s a crick in your neck and a tenseness in your shoulders that Izuku would have massaged out for you if you weren’t locked in battle for days on end.

So you make a profile for yourself. Is it desperation for validation now that suddenly all your inadequacies are brought to light or fear of losing? Whatever it is, you are very lucky, because you’ve arranged a date for just a few hours from now.

You cannot, will not, spend the night in an empty house.

—

Izuku’s hands are fidgety, enough that his patrol partner notices the incessant tapping of his foot and the repeated running of his hands through his hair.

“You okay there, man?”

“Yeah.”

It’s not like he can say No, actually, my girlfriend’s phone is unreachable and I can’t tell if it’s because she’s mad at me or because something actually happened to her, but if I’m wrong about danger, it will only make our already terrible relationship worse.

His partner tonight is a non-UA alum who is new to the city and initially came in excited to work with the great Midoriya only to run into someone whose naturally charismatic Hero smile now carries an undercurrent of moderate unease. The two however continue to roam the district in a predetermined path, making sure to detect any suspicious activity as it may come up. This particular area is known for its elevated nightlife and particularly rich patrons. There’s a Michelin 3-star restaurant whose reservations are hotly contested that he spots along his path as he walks, and he remembers he’d considered it among others for your eventual engagement, if you ever made it there at this point.

The fact that Sachiko has texted him three times today grates on his nerves and he wishes he had never given her his number, even though he continues to reply politely. He looks down to mute the text thread, and as he looks up, he sees you.

And his blood runs cold.

—

You can’t remember the last time you’ve been on a first date. You do remember that you’re supposed to feel somewhat jittery - you remember being this way when you first went on a date with your soon-to-be ex - but your nerves aren’t firing in all directions in a pleasant, pure sort of way.

What exactly are you trying to prove? You wonder as you stride carefully, one heeled step before the other on the cobbled street, a handsome stranger by your side. You march unevenly, and you can tell he wants to reach over and help you, but your body is sufficiently frigid that he keeps a polite distance away.

Until you accidentally trip and he steadies you with a gentle grip of the hand.

“Hold on to me,” he asks. Yoshi’s smile is pleasant and reassuring, a little like Izuku. He’s not as tall and not as broad, but he’s pleasant to look at.

“Thank you,” you say, gingerly allowing your hand to settle on his outstretched elbow. It doesn’t feel right but you tell yourself it’s natural to feel that way, considering you only started talking this afternoon.

Yoshi isn’t a complete stranger though - you learn he works in another division at your company and you have mutual friends. It had just turned out that he had gotten stood up for his intended date today despite having had reservations for a month, so you might as well have taken the opportunity to go to such an exclusive eatery.

“I forgot to tell you you looked breathtaking,” he says once you’ve moved closer to him, and you can’t help but to smile first, then feel disgusted that you’re letting another man compliment you.

“You look quite nice yourself,” you reply nevertheless.

The queue to the entrance is several couples and groups long despite your reservation so you check in first before heading over to a waiting area until you get called.

You do get called from behind before you even get to sit, but it’s not by the restaurant.

“Fancy seeing you here!”

You freeze. Of course. What did you think would happen?

There are two things that run through your head. Either you can pretend you didn’t hear his voice and keep walking, and you know damn well he would not allow himself to be ignored or you could turn and risk a very public argument or-

He chooses for you.

Izuku is in front of the two of you now, grinning far too wide, far too poisonously. For once your heart is actually racing, and you remember that despite how soft he’s been with you, he’s actually quite large and obviously strong and the fact that he’s barely concealing the fact that he’s genuinely upset at you as he looks you up and down, fists clenched by his side and knuckles white as chalk, means that he could be unpredictable.

“It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?” he says, with a tinny laugh. Your eyes widen as you look to him then to your date who looks genuinely confused as to why this Hero is unkindly interrupting his date out of the blue.

“Hey, um-”

Deku flashes a smile at you that doesn’t reach his eyes then looks back at Yoshi.

“The two of you look like a lovely couple! Are you waiting for this restaurant?” He says, pointing to the entrance. “It’s a great restaurant! I personally like one of their pasta dishes myself and had been meaning to take my girlfriend here for a while but we just haven’t gotten the chance to-”

Yoshi, bold enough that even you’re taken aback, has the nerve to take your wrist gently and pull you a little behind him - a move that is not lost on Izuku and your blood chills because Izuku finds himself holding back a chuckle.

“Can I help you?” Yoshi asks, clearly annoyed.

You start to move instinctively but Izuku’s placed a hand on Yoshi’s shoulder and proceeds to pat it. He leans in ever so slightly to clear the height difference between them, staring him directly in the eyes, and you hold your breath. It’s clearly a challenge and you pray that neither of them take the bait.

You can see Yoshi move to shrug the shoulder off but he’s forced into place and now the confusion on his features is even more intense. You can nearly cut the tension in the air with a knife but then you hear the other young man approaching.

It’s Izuku’s partner who has finally caught up, and the sound of Deku’s name being called from afar as he approaches seems to snap Izuku back into the reality of the situation. Some of the pounding in his temples clears and he tries not to look at you, patting your date on the shoulder.

“Stay safe out there and don’t stay out too late,” He offers. There’s still an edge to his voice and his hand and eyes linger but eventually he lets it trail off. The warning is for you specifically.

Your face is hot and you’re thoroughly embarrassed but that’s the least of your concerns right now. Your stomach twists into a knot.

Your table is called.

—

When you finally slip back into your apartment, it’s a couple minutes to midnight and you are Cinderella fleeing back home to where the magic wears off.

The lights are on and Izuku is staring holes into the front door as you come in - he almost startles you when you slip off your shoes and turn to find him sitting at the kitchen table, facing in your direction.

A small gasp leaves your throat.

He cocks his head to the side.

“What? Do I scare you?” His voice is somewhat gruff as though he’s waking up from sleep, low, and makes your heart pound.

You open your mouth, then close it. There’s not really much you can say at this point. You literally went on a date without his knowledge. You expected a fight when you came back, especially given how obviously angry he was just a couple of hours ago.

You push and you push and you push and you don’t really know why you’re pushing.

And then you remember why. Sachiko.

“No,” you reply, moving forward in bare feet on wooden flooring, and dropping off your apartment keys in a shared bowl on the counter. You purse your lips and try not to engage him but wonder how long he’s been waiting for you, hunched forward on his elbows, pressing his fingertips together. There’s an untouched glass of wine besides him, and he rarely drinks.

“How was your date?” he spits.

You stop for a moment, his tone sinking in, and you selectively hear anger instead of the pang of rejection. You whip around to face him, the metal on your purse strings making the action unnecessarily loud.

“It was great, actually! How’s Sachiko?!”

You didn’t mean to raise your voice but you did nevertheless.

“Who..,” he starts, but his eyes widen, seething. “You sent me on that date.”

“That doesn’t mean you can fuck her!”

Izuku lets out a groan but his scowl softens to a frown once he sees the tears in your eyes despite his still tightly clenched fists.

“I did not, first of all. I deleted her number hours ago. We literally never met after the dates YOU arranged. Meanwhile you’re prancing around, hanging off some random dude’s arm, and what am I supposed to do? Accept it? What the fuck do I look like to you,___?”

You don’t have a response to that. How easy can it be to tolerate your mood swings? You were never done with him. You don’t want to be done with him. Of course he laughed at you when you said it, because it was obviously not true.

But you just want to feel heard so badly sometimes.

There’s a bit of silence as the two of you stand across from each other, your tears streaming down your face.

“Come here,” Izuku murmurs.

“No,” you mutter. He sighs as he follows you into the bedroom you disappear to, and watches you carefully as you sit down on the edge of the bed. You’re clearly still unsettled, but by now he can tell that you are no longer angry but confused as to what to do next. What comes after this mess?

“Did you fuck him?” Izuku asks in a quiet voice.

“Obviously not,” you quip, crossing your arms not out of self-defense but for self-soothing.

“Did you kiss him?” His voice is tentative as though he dreads the answer. His palms open and he flexes his fingers but he crosses the distance towards you on the bed.

“No.”

He pauses again, then kneels down before you. There’s a hand that finds its way onto the side of your cheek tenderly, turning your face so that you face him, and him only.

“I’m done fighting with you,” he finally decides. “Open your legs.”

Your face twists into surprise, but he dives deep, pulling up the bottom of your dress to your waist. He plants several kisses on your thighs, then waits for you to part your legs for him - he’s not going to tell you twice - before pressing his nose on the wet spot forming on your panties.

He breathes in and the inhale of your scent runs through his whole body, enough that you shudder yourself.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he says and your face warms. His calloused hands grip firmly, but not roughly, on the skin of your legs and push you open even further to accommodate his broad shoulders - you lean back onto your elbows as he slips two fingers under the crotch, and tears them apart with a snap.

“‘Zuku!” You hiss. Those panties aren’t your best ones but you still liked them.

He doesn’t reply and rather hastily, penetrates you with his tongue, and you squeal his name again, relishing in the thick muscle exploring your folds and the harsh grasp of his fingertips as he keeps you still.

“B-baby… ah!”

He’s sharp and precise, because you’ve loved him long enough and he’s loved you long enough to know exactly what you need. You don’t tip but you careen over the pleasure of his tongue working your folds and your clit and your soft center, whining as pressure builds in your lower belly.

“S-stop, it’s…” your breath falters, “I d-don’t deserve…”

He stops briefly with a kiss, then looks up at you, mulling over the words he needs to say to this woman who causes him so much trouble.

He decides on the following:

“You’re right. You don’t deserve it, not right now, so I’m punishing you,” he finally teases. There’s a half grin on the slick covered lower half of his face and your eyes widen at the sight of his glistening skin. He lifts your ass gently and slaps it hard enough that your breath catches, the pain searing up and down your leg. You gasp, and he grabs a handful of your ass cheek, rubbing it to mull over the sensation.

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” He hisses. His body presses over you, pushing one of your bent legs against your chest as he continues to squeeze at the fat of your bottom. You nod and he kisses you.

“Simply awful.”

Another spank comes and you’re nearly blinded in pain and he dips down, biting at your lip.

“I indulge you far too much, don’t I?” His teeth tug gently and release, and then he motions for you to pull your arms up. You’re sure if you don’t hurry up, he’ll rip it to shreds.

The dress comes off and so does your breasts out of your bra and into his cupped hands. Sucking, biting at your nipples, leaving marks - it’s desperate and possessive and you wonder what would have happened if you had really taken Yoshi or whatever his name was seriously, and really pushed your Izuku to the brink.

“I’m s-sorry,” you choke out eventually through sighs and then sobs. Izuku rolls you onto him, clasping his arms around your waist as you straddle him, playing with your breasts as you roll against him. The rhythm is new and hasty, but some of the fundamentals are the same. You know his body and he knows yours. He sucks at your neck and you nip at his earlobes - your fingers twist into his curls and he pulls at your hair. Kiss after kiss after kiss.

“I’m sorry, too,” he murmurs into your neck. His strong arms still enclose you and you’re settled onto his cock. There’s a soft groan as he presses upwards into you and some of you collapses into him, but he rolls his hips as you cling to his chest and you’re in a rhythm yet again.

“You make me crazy but I’m sorry.”

You can only whimper something unintelligible back as you suck up every inch of him, even your walls clinging tightly and desperately to his body inside yours. Your fingers curl into fists, laying against his chest and he uses a hand to pull it before him and kiss your knuckles.

“I’m awful,” you moan, crying into his chest.

“I shouldn’t have teased you,” he insists.

He flips over and you find yourself under him, and he interlaces his fingers with yours above you. Green locks graze gently atop your forehead as he stares into your eyes.

“I love you,” you say first.

“I love you too,” Izuku replies. He stirs into you more, letting the pressure of his weight comfort you as he strokes deeply, then rises up on his elbows to pick up his pace.

“Promise you’ll never leave,” you beg him before he begins. His hands press onto yours and pin you down and he kisses at your belly, then up to your lips.

“You can’t get rid of me,” he laughs.

“Even when I’m shitty enough to try?”

He pauses, dips down to press his forehead against yours. His lips graze above yours again.

“Even when I’m angry enough to fight back, I won’t leave you.”

Reassured, you rock your hips against his and he takes it as an invitation to speed up. His strokes are fast and deep and tender - with every plunge you fall deeper in love with him, as does he. You push back but gently, resisting every strong movement with a clench of your thighs against him.

“You feel fucking amazing,” he insists, and you can his voice lowers. “Fucking amazing, baby, fucking-”

It’s his tell - he holds on to you desperately and you can feel yourself tense up as your coil snaps and sharp jets of cum spurt at your cervix, coating you thick and full. He shudders as he comes, heavy body shrouding you in a warm comfort.

He’s never leaving and neither are you.

No matter how many games you play.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku smut #izuku midoriya smut #deku smut #deku x reader smut #bnha smut #mimi's notes #daydreams: bnha

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messylustt · 10 months

Note

Can you write about an arguement with ethan because he got jealous and then reader and Ethan give eachother the silent treatment for days but then ethan folds first and BEGS for her attention :) thank you so much

i love desperate men

desperate jealousy — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : an jealous argument leads to a rather desperate ethan.

contents : just a heated kiss and some jealousy. wc 2.0k.

you nod, smiling at this guy you met in econ. you got paired up for an assignment, him taking the seat beside you.

throughout the discussion of topics he had slowly began to move closer, copying your smile. “are you sure we should do that topic?” you ask, relaxed in your seat.

he shrugs. “i mean it’s easy enough to get good marks.”

“true.” you say. “but that usually means that everyone else is gonna do it.” you randomly gesture at the students. “professors usually look for work that’s different.”

you had been so used to working with ethan—having been allowed to choose your own partners in the past. but this lesson your partners were chosen for you, leaving you with a guy—though cute, still wanting to find the easier way out.

as you carried on discussing, ethan watched from his seat next to some girl—his partner. “ethan.” she tries to get his attention. “i think we should do this topic.” she points at one of the possible selections.

but ethan just hums, keeping his gaze on you and the guy. he wasn’t too thrilled about the partners being different. he liked working with you, you both had similar minds. thoughts and decisions flowed easy.

“ethan.” the girl tried again, finally earning him to look away from you and to her. “why are you so distracted? i thought you were the smart one in this class.”

ethan keeps his almost solemn expression, but forces himself to face the assignment and try to engage with his partner.

at the end of the lesson, you got up from your seat. “so does that topic work?”

the guy—james—nods. “yeah, that should work. whose house should we do it at?”

“oh, i was just thinking we work in the library when we’re both free.”

james looks slightly disappointed. “but i’m usually quite busy doing other…stuff in the day. going to one of our houses in the evenings would work better for me.”

you slowly nod. “alright. um, my house is free…tomorrow evening. does that work?”

james nods, shooting you a smile. “i’ll see you then.” he says, heading down the hall. you both having walked to the exit throughout the talking.

you go to turn down the opposite way when you jump, ethan standing directly behind you. “ethan.” you breath out a sigh of relief. “hey.”

but ethan’s gaze is narrowed, glaring after your assignment partner. “are you…alright?” you slowly ask, raising a brow.

ethan shifts his gaze to you. “shame we didn’t get to work together.”

you nod. “yeah, it felt weird discussing topics with someone else.” you chuckle, adjusting the books in your grasp. “it took awhile to convince him to not do something generic.”

“hmm, same with my partner.” ethan agrees, a small smile edging his lips.

“what topic did you choose?” you ask, to which he answers, following with “we’ve decided to work in the library. not too happy bout that…with her of all people.”

“why not?” you tilt your head. “i offered the library to james but he insisted we work at one of our houses.”

ethan pauses, brows furrowing. “one of your houses?”

“yeah.” then you further mutter. “shit, i should probably clean up.”

“your house? you guys are working at your house?” ethan can’t help but let his annoyed tone slip.

you meet his gaze, a slight furrow to your brows at his tone. “yeah…”

he clenched his jaw. “you should…change that.”

“change that?” you repeat.

ethan nods. “you shouldn’t let someone like him into your house.”

“why not?” you’re genuinely confused.

“oh come on…” ethan clicks his jaw. “he’s a dick. i bet he only wants to get into your pants.”

you slightly raise your brows at his blatancy. “i’m sure you’re reading into it too much. he’ll just come, we’ll work, then he’ll go.”

“you’re not dumb, y/n.” he says pointedly. he had grown more annoyed at your persistence. “you have to have clearly seen that he was flirting with you.”

you shake your head. “we were just talking about the assignment—“

“his body language gave him away.” ethan interrupts.

you narrow your gaze. “were you watching us?”

ethan pauses for a moment. “i just…wanted to make sure he wasn’t doing that thing that you always hate.”

ah, yes, ‘the thing’ being taking full control over the assignment and making decisions without proper discussion. “well, that’s sweet…” you drift off. “but he was fine. If anything he was leaning more to the side of doing nothing.” you chuckle.

“see.” ethan is still persistent, and you’re not sure why. “he clearly won’t help you. you should change partners.”

“ethan.” you say slowly. “what’s gotten into you?”

he runs his tongue along his teeth, as he looks away a moment. “i just don’t want him taking advantage.”

you sigh. “ethan. i’m fine. he’s fine. i appreciate the concern though.” you smile. you hadn’t realised how much of a friend ethan had become over the lessons.

“do you?” he suddenly says. you’re slightly taken a back by his tone.

“ethan—“

“do you like him? is that it?” he can’t seem to control the words from slipping. his mind whirring with different possibilities.

you step back, not liking his expression. “i really don’t know why you’re acting like this.”

ethan steps closer again, his heart pulsing with anger. “do you like him?” he repeats. he’s talking down to you, and that aspect has a slight scowl forming on your face.

“so what if i like him?” you’re beginning to walk away. of course you don’t like james. but you didn’t appreciate ethan’s misplaced strong feelings about the situation and the way he displayed them.

ethan swiftly grabs your arm harshly. “seriously?”

you’ve had enough with whatever this is. so, you rip your arm away, and quickly head down the dispersing hallway.

;;

ethan fucked up. he shouldn’t have gotten angry over something he didn’t have a right to get angry over. and now you weren’t speaking to him. not that you talked much outside of classes. but when you were in them, you’d always sit beside each other.

and now you sat with james, not sparing ethan a glance. ethan gritted his teeth. it had been two days since you last spoke. you had had your ‘session’ with james at your house, and ethan was dying to know what had happened.

what had you two talked about? did you…do anything?

ethan had at first reciprocated your ignorance, not moving to speak to you either. but he had begun to grow desperate. he missed your voice. he tried to keep back, mad at you for entertaining this loser of a guy. but his control was slipping.

he glanced over at you as your head stayed down, writing notes, most likely, from the lecture. ethan tilted his head, watching as you tapped your pencil in thought, your leg moving up and down.

then he saw james walk in late, moving to take the seat beside you. but ethan quickly moved from his seat, grabbing his books as silently as possible as he took the empty seat.

you turn your head to stare at him, brows furrowing. you still didn’t know what had made ethan so angry before.

you shift your gaze back to the front of the lecture hall. ethan set his books down, the lesson continuing. james had to take ethan’s previous seat, and ethan couldn’t help but let a small smirk edge his lips.

he then glances back at you. you kept your head turned, your hair moving to hide the side of your face. ethan reaches his hand out, tucking your hair behind your ear so he could see you.

you turn to look at him, confused now. ethan’s gaze wandered your face, his eyes hooded with interest. you quickly turn your head away, staying silent.

ethan’s hand was still hovering by your ear. he then leaned closer to you, whispering, making your entire body stiffen. “can we talk after class?”

you lean away, acting as though your mind is occupied with the lecture. ethan grits his teeth. “y/n.”

you say nothing. and ethan’s resolve continues to crumble. “talk to me.” he tries to bring your face around to look at him, by a grip on your chin. but you yet again tilt your head away. you had always been stubborn. you were waiting for an apology and maybe this is what the ‘talk’ was about. but you’d rather hear it now, not him bringing you somewhere quiet.

ethan—like always—stayed persistent. “please.” you finally caught on to the desperation in his tone.

meeting his gaze, you could see his heavier breathing, his eyes focused entirely on you. you gulp, as you swat his hand away from your ear.

but he grabbed your moving hand instead. “i’ve had enough of the silent treatment.” he whispers.

you move to get your hand out of his grasp, but he just moves it under the table, holding it by his thigh. you try to move away again, but ethan just tightens his hold, looking back to the professor.

“ethan.” you hiss. “what are you doing?”

ethan’s lips curve up, his grip tightening around your hand, knowing he came out successful. “you spoke.”

you grit your teeth. ethan’s hand began to travel up your arm, keeping you at his side as he stared, only half reading the words written on the board. you shivered, his fingertips dragging across your skin.

“i’ll let go…if you say yes.” ethan says, keeping his taunting strokes along your skin.

“seriously?” you whisper.

“mhm.” ethan hums. you notice the professor walking closer to look at everyone’s progress so you quickly say “yes…alright, yes.”

ethan grins, letting go of you just as the professor nears.

;;

when the lecture ended, you began to pick up your books. ethan did the same, watching you closely. once he saw that you had your bag slung over your shoulder, he swiftly grabbed your wrist, pulling you to a more desolate part of the hallway.

you turn to him. “look ethan, i’m just conf—“

but you cut yourself off as you realise how close ethan stood. he had begun to step closer, his hand reaching out to touch your hair again. you lean away. “and you’re not helping my confusion.”

ethan’s brows furrow at your action. “i didn’t like you not talking to me.” he admitted.

you eye him. “it’s not like we talked much.”

“you started talking to james a lot more.”

you sigh. “look, if you’re gonna be all weird again, then please—“ you go to step away, but ethan quickly grabs your arm, stopping you.

“don’t go— just…” he breathes. “i’m…sorry.”

“you’re sorry?” you reiterate.

“i shouldn’t have…gotten mad.”

you slightly turn back to him. “no. you shouldn’t have. why did you?”

ethan gulps, his grip ever so slightly tightening around your arm, thinking you were gonna try and leave again.

“ethan?” you try but you can tell he’s in his head, thinking a mile a minute.

“i have to go.” you sigh, beginning to walk away again, but this time ethan yanks you back, his hand moving to your waist as he smashes his lips against yours.

you gasp, eyes widening. “eth—“

but you’re both stumbling back, ethan stepping forward as you stepped back, his mouth eagerly moving against yours.

a breathy sound left his lips, as he found your tongue. your eyes had rolled closed, your back hitting against the wall. ethan couldn’t help but let his hands wander your body, slipping under your shirt to graze against your bare hips.

your back unintentionally arches into him, making ethan press harder against you, one of his hands slipping to cup part of your jaw and ear, tilting your head how he wanted.

when you break for air, your chest is heaving, butterflies having swarmed your stomach, you speak. “ethan…i didn’t…i—“

“shut up.” he breathlessly whispered, eagerly capturing your lips again. her lips do taste like everything sweet—ethan thinks to himself, as he grinned against your mouth.

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