hello!! thanks for visiting. this is my cod writing sideblog. I'll write for most MW characters, but I mostly write König. feel free to send me asks with questions or ideas of your own! (forgive me if I don't respond right away that usually means I'm writing something for your ask.) I occasionally reblog nsfw and dark content, so please view my blog at your own discretion.
masterlist
drabbles & headcanons
the königcore bible┊part 2
fic recs
unmasked könig headcanons masterlist
latest [INACTIVE]
the very first night (now that we don’t talk part 2)
nutcracker König
kosovo maiden (wounded könig x reader)
satyr!König headcanons
Endless Nights (Price x archaeologist!reader)
banner artwork by xiwang22944 on douyin, text decor by @bucciniexe
you: I want to write wolf König x bunny reader so bad but the government would issue a warrant for my arrest
me: i'm ready to pay your bail 💵💰💸💳
(tw: hybrid smut [THAT MEANS KNOTTING], cnc with pre-established consent)
It would have been easier if you had been in the woods, honestly.
Instead, you’re cornered in an empty office building, trapped in a labyrinth of sterile lights and winding hallways. This is his playground. You might have keen ears and sharp reflexes, but he has all that and more…including a better sense of smell.
“I have no trouble outlasting you, hase,” his voice comes in from the hallway. You flatten yourself against the wall and whine in terror, nose twitching and ears trembling.
“You can run, but you’ll tire yourself out quickly…and you know I like a little struggle when I fuck you.” You shudder at his vulgarity.
You look up towards the ceiling. You’ve wedged yourself between a filing cabinet and a wall, but a hiding place only lasts for so long with that nose of his. You need to be inaccessible, and fast.
His heavy footsteps are slow and deliberate on the linoleum floors as you scramble on top of the filing cabinet. You’ve grabbed hold of the tiles, on the precipice of launching yourself into the ceiling when the door to the room is flung open.
“There you are, silly little thing. Come down from there before you hurt yourself.” There’s a terrible silkiness to his voice, dark and possessive.
“No!” Pumped full of adrenaline, you leap up into the ceiling just before his hand closes around your ankle. He growls as you kick him away and shuffle into the ceiling, driven by pure terror.
In your heart of hearts, you know he’s right. He thrives on the thrill of the hunt, while you can feel yourself tiring. You bite your lip and continue shuffling determinedly forward.
You get a fair distance away, confident that he’s not following you, before deciding to come out of the ceiling. You press a long, fuzzy ear to the tiles, trying to discern if your hunter is underneath you. One disadvantage of König’s size is that it’s nearly impossible for him to be completely silent. The coast appears to be clear…
You kick out a tile and fling yourself downwards as fast as possible. He’ll for sure hear the sound of the tile falling to the floor, so you need to hit the ground running. Unfortunately, you don’t get that far.
Like some sort of twisted fairytale, you drop out of the ceiling right into his arms.
“Hello there,” he purrs.
You gasp and attempt to dart out of his grasp, but his arms tighten around you like a bear trap, and you know at once that you’re caught. He laughs as you squirm and cry out for help, anyone, anywhere.
“Nobody’s coming to help you, little one. It’s only you and I in this place.”
You sob as he pins you to the ground and pulls out a knife from his belt, wicked long and sharp. He’s right: nobody is coming to save you, and you’re at the mercy of the dangerous wolf who hunts you.
And now that his quarry is caught, he’s going to take his prize.
“Please, I’m sorry, just let me go, I won’t tell anyone…” you beg quietly. You yelp as he tears away your clothes with ruthless efficiency.
He chuckles. “Nein, little one. You’ve given me too much trouble at this point. I plan on enjoying you very thoroughly, to make up for my trouble…” The cruel blade cuts through your bra and panties, scratching harmlessly against your soft skin. The sensation sends shivers through you.
“Well well…what do we have here?” the wolf looming above you asks. You yelp as he props you open for him, giving your tail a little tug. “You filthy thing, you’re dripping wet.” A whine pushes through your lips as he drags two of his fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness.
“N-no…it’s just a natural reaction…”
“To being hunted?” You turn your head towards him only to see the cruel look in his eye. “It’s true what they say about rabbits, then. Always craving a good fuck.”
You have no more excuses left to defend yourself with. You attempt to wiggle out of his grasp once more, but a firm, heavy hand pressed between your shoulder blades holds you in place for him as he plunges two thick fingers into you without warning.
“W-wait! Please, it’s too much,” you protest. Your pleas go ignored as he continues to push his way in, forcing your tight, wet heat open.
“If you think this is too much, then how will you take my cock?” He barks out a laugh as you squirm at his words. “You should be thanking me for stretching you out at all. I could have taken you immediately.”
Your hands fly to your neck as his other hand secures itself around it. “Thank me. Now.”
“Thank you, König…” you whisper, utterly humiliated. His grip is like iron around your neck despite not affecting your airway. You have a sneaking suspicion this awful predator would prefer you conscious and responsive as he ravages you.
You moan as his fingers finally curl against that soft spongy spot inside of you. “Pretty little bunny whore…is that all it took to draw such sweet noises out of you?” You shake your head, biting your lip to control your noises as he works his fingers inside you.
“Stubborn little thing,” he hisses. “But I know just what will fix you.”
Your eyes grow wide and alarmed as his fingers pull out of you, only to be followed by the sound of him unzipping his trousers. “I can’t take you like this—please, I need more time!”
“I’ve waited long enough,” he growls, and perhaps he is right about you being a whore, because his tone sends a thrill up your spine.
He’s big. You knew he would be, being a wolf hybrid, but he’s a titan even amongst his own people. You can’t help the keening wail that comes out of you as he presses the head of his enormous cock inside your fluttering hole. You attempt to struggle again, but you only succeed in spearing yourself further into him.
“Scheiße, you are small,” he swears.
“Big,” you mange to force out. “Too big…!”
“There we go…nice and slow.” You don’t have to turn back to know that he’s watching himself sink into you with vicious excitement.
Although he’s mounting you from behind like the savage beast he is, he’s clearly reluctant to truly hurt you, taking his time to seat himself fully inside. By the time he’s all the way in, you’re a trembling mess, leaking slick all over him.
“Ready?” He whispers in your ear. You nod hesitantly, ears leaning forward to brush against the cold floor.
He’s slow at first, working his mammoth cock in and out of you. But he soon succumbs to his animal hunger, drawn in by the delicious way your pussy sucks him in, and before long he’s pounding in and out of you with abandon. You’re completely lost at this point, lost in the drag of him against your walls. It doesn’t take long for you to come completely untouched, pushed to your limit by the thrill of the chase and the sheer size of him.
He tsks as he feels you spasm around him. “Greedy little thing…I haven’t even touched you yet.” You simply can’t manage a response, already well past the point of being cockdrunk.
You yelp as he wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you up off the floor and against him into his lap. Now you can look down and watch as his cock pounds into you, a clear outline of it pressing through your womb. He whistles appreciatively, quickening his pace as you look on with increasing horror. If just his cock is already so large inside you, you don’t know how you’ll survive taking his knot…
Because of course this rotten bastard is going to cum inside you. He promises you as much, vile words muttered into your ear as he approaches his peak about breeding you full of his pups. You should feel repulsed by the idea of having this awful man’s children, but your mind is only hazed over with pleasure.
“I—fuck, I’m close,” he mutters, a fresh desperation in his tone as he pounds you into mush. One of his hands moves down to toy with your clit, but it’s clearly an afterthought as he chases his end. Not that it matters, though, because you can feel another orgasm creeping up on you.
“Sweet little bunny…so soft and pliable for my cock,” he pants. “You can take my knot as well, can’t you?”
“I c-can’t…” you protest weakly. Your orgasm surprises you this time, throwing your head back against his shoulder as you cry out and grip him like a vise.
“Fuck…!” König buries himself deep inside you one last time before he explodes, roaring as he floods you with his thick cum. Your stomach bulges as his knot swells inside you, locking him and his spend inside of you.
You collapse against the broad plane of his chest, struggling to catch your breath. His arms wrap around you again, this time in a gentle, protective embrace.
“I didn’t hurt you, didn’t I…?” he murmurs into your shoulder once he’s come down a bit. You shake your head, pleased as punch now that the scene is over.
“I’m just glad you didn’t bite me this time,” you say with breathless laughter. König huffs in indignation as he adjusts the two of you to be in a more comfortable position to wait for his knot to deflate.
“That was only once!”
“One too many times! You’re too rough with your teeth when you’re all worked up…”
“Well, I tried very hard this time, and it paid off, didn’t it?”
“Yes, it did. Thank you, love,” you say, twisting to give him a peck on the nose. His face somehow flushes even redder.
“Next time, we’re going back to doing this in the woods. I spend enough time clearing buildings as it is.”
putting a couple of feelers out. I will write sequels but I want to get out a long oneshot first just to work off the rust writing for König again. reader is a non combat kortac coworker, so:
putting a couple of feelers out. I will write sequels but I want to get out a long oneshot first just to work off the rust writing for König again. reader is a non combat kortac coworker, so:
I am eager to get back into writing and see how I've improved!! I am going to be 100% with you guys, I am not going to complete Kingdom Come, lol. I don't like how I characterized him in that, so I might rework it, but I make no promises. However, I am pondering sequels to my one shots.
Sleepless, stressed and on the verge of your breaking point… again.
It was no wonder that Saint watched you with deep concern, no wonder that they held their pen like it was a lifeline rather than just stationary. You wanted them to just understand, you needed them to know that you weren’t insane- everything was so elaborately planned and you were just on the verge of unravelling it.
“Saint,” you rasped, “there are people in on this…. The brass. I think König too. It’s a fuck-fight.”
The doctor leaned back into their chair, eyes never leaving your jittering figure. The sigh that fell from their lips released none of the tension balled tightly in their shoulders.
“Birdy…”
You stood to your feet. You didn’t want to hear it.
You were sick of hearing people say your name in that tone: placatingly, diminishing your thoughts and dismissing you as if you were the local crazy.
Maybe you were the local crazy.
Is that how everybody saw you? Did everybody truly think that you were so off-kilter that you’d hallucinate a coup? You were a victim of assault- not insanity.
“Stop,” Saint put their pen down firmly on the table, drawing your attention back to the situation at hand. “I’m listening. I’m just a little… hesitant. It’s a very serious accusation, Birdy, but I’m not doubting the source.”
You shot the medical officer a knowing glare.
“Oh,” you drawled sarcastically, “because everybody takes me seriously at this unit with my history, right?”
“I don’t give a fuck about whether anybody else takes you seriously,” Saint’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I take you seriously, Birdy.”
The room was doused in tension. Your fingers curled to form tight fists, skin stretching over your knuckles until they turned white. You don’t know why you were angry at their declaration, angry at their loyalty.
Maybe it was because you knew it was misplaced.
Maybe it was because you knew you’d disappoint. “Yeah,” you sighed softly, relaxing your hands as you turned for the door. “That makes one of us.”
_______
The walk to training always held some anxiety but this time it was as if you were drowning in it. Each step felt like a death knell and sudden dryness in your mouth made you want to turn back and run to the safety of your room.
You thought that you were well and truly past this.
Apparently, you couldn’t get past anything.
As you approached the door you were surprised to hear voices. No one ever wanted to interact with König, let alone at 7 a.m. on a Saturday. The room was always booked for the two of you at this time, interruptions were specifically warned against by Price.
It’s just a conversation.
You took in a deep breath. Not everything required a downward spiral, not all mysteries needed investigation.
Literally just a fucking conversation. Get a grip.
You straightened your shoulders as you approached the door and the dialogue became clearer.
“Birdy will be here soon.” König’s voice was as familiar as your own. “You need to leave.”
You pulled up short just before the entrance, frozen like a deer in the headlights. There was a short silence before a soft thud echoed throughout the room. It sounded like a hand being clapped over the shoulder but you weren’t sure. Could have been a punch, could have been a really intense kiss, who fucking knew?
All you knew was that they weren’t meant to be there.
Maybe it was Sunshine.
Although you hated the arrogant fucker, it would relieve you to know it was them. They were inconsequential and, although they were annoying, they wouldn’t be behind your assassination attempt.
Sunshine would have made sure you were in the ground, no matter the cost. Sunshine would have succeeded.
Instead, the voice that rattled in your ears wasn’t your fellow coworker.
“Just be careful. Wouldn’t want to jump the gun, would we?”
Your blood turned to ice.
Graves.
You could almost hear that snake-like grin in his words, you could almost see the look in his eyes that was nothing but predatory. Phillip was charming when he wanted to be, but there was something terrifying about him.
Like a trap lying in wait.
Like a traitor waiting to strike.
The sound of sure and steady footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts. Panic flooded your system, kicking your adrenaline into gear. There was nowhere to hide, not even a small nook in this god-forsaken hallway.
As Graves drew closer to discovering your presence, you bounced back a few steps from where you’d been frozen. Throwing your arms above your head as if you were stretching and squinting your eyes with an outrageous yawn was all you could pull together.
Phillip rounded the corner with a cocky sway that made your heart race. You watched him scan your slowly approaching body, seemingly tired and unaware. You acted surprised to see him, carefully schooling your face to return to the usual lifelessness that it held.
“Birdy!” Graves said, slowing his pace. With a flash of teeth, the corner of his mouth pulled upward into a knowing smirk. “Good to see you.”
“I bet,” you said monotonously, adding a dismissive nod at the end like a punctuation mark.
Phillip’s smirk turned into a smile.
“Enjoy your session,” the man said slowly. As he drew closer you could feel your chest tightening. He smelt fresh like he had just gotten out of a long, hot shower. You hated that he was close enough to smell the fucking body wash on his skin.
His shoulder brushed yours as he passed by, setting your body alight with fear. You didn’t dare look over your shoulder as you trekked towards the gym door, eyes firm on that handle. His footsteps still echoed along the hallway by the time that you’d reached the entrance.
“You’re late.”
König’s voice startled you despite making direct eye contact with him.
The man looked disgruntled, to say the least. His hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it over and over, and your guess was confirmed when he roughly raked it over once more. König’s eyes were looking anywhere but yours.
“I’m not.” You’d meant for those words to have some bite to them but you couldn’t muster up the venom. Not when he looked like that.
“You are,” he insisted with a snarl.
You raised your hands up in surrender, eyes narrowing at his hostility. The urge to leave grew tenfold and so did your distrust for the man before you. There were too many things that pointed towards his guilt in planning your assassination.
The way he’d tried to blow off your concerns, the vehement way he’d shouted for you to drop it, and now, his interaction with Graves. You thought back to your time in the kitchen when Phillip had first encountered you both.
“Now, who’d have thought that you’d both be so… close.” He had said.
The Shadow had watched with intrigue as König stepped in front of you as if protecting you from him. If you really thought about it, most of his smarminess was aimed at the man beside you, rather than yourself.
You swallowed and choked on your own spit. It was a distant reminder of when it had been your own blood that you’d coughed on.
König’s sigh tore you from your spiralling conspiracies.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. His tone was quiet but his eyes were genuine.
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat. “No, it’s fine. I get shitty when I deal with Graves, too.”
But why was he with Phillip in the first place?
You wanted to ask him, everything in you pleaded to seek out the truth. You needed to investigate-, you needed to know. Your mouth opened to get the answers you so desperately desired, but a thought made you stop in your tracks.
What if you let on that you were suspicious of him?
It was clear that you were no match against König. Your entire life had become interwoven with his and it felt like he was there in your every waking moment. If he knew that you suspected him, it would only put you in danger again. He’d busted through your bedroom door once and that was enough to tell you that you wouldn’t be safe from him anywhere you went.
You distantly realized that König was watching you carefully from where he stood, jade eyes analyzing every quirk of your lips and every twitch of your brows.
“What?” You said, feigning self-consciousness. “Admiring your handiwork?”
The man shot you a glare and you prayed that was enough to shift his attention.
“I hate it when you say things like that,” he hissed, pulling his jacket down his arms and throwing it aside. “Seriously.”
“Yeah, well I hate having a chopping block for a face.” You tilted your head to shoot him a deadpan look over your shoulder. “Seriously.”
“I cannot deal with you sometimes, Birdy.” König hissed.
“I can tell,” you jerked your thumb towards your marred features.
You knew that you were playing with fire. The way the man stood straight, his gaze narrowing and any sense of banter dissipating from his features, made it very clear that it was time for you to stop pushing that particular button.
“Your attempt at deflecting is not as effective as you may think,” König said, his words slow and deliberate. Jade eyes bore into yours and your breath stuttered in your chest.
You could lie to him, you could play dumb. He was dangerous and if you tipped him off you would be dead by morning.
You couldn’t make sense of that logic, though. If he wanted you dead, you’d well and truly have been dead by now. Your cheeks stung at the thought… you suppose that there wasn’t a lack of trying. Maybe it really had just been a failed attempt.
“Birdy,” the soldier said, shooting a glance at the door. “I know what you are thinking and you need to put a stop to it.”
Those contesting thoughts came to a staggering halt.
“I don’t even know what I’m thinking,” you snapped. “What would you know?”
König raised a brow at your tone, opening his mouth to deliver what you would assume to be an infuriating response. The words choked and fell from his tongue, though. There was a huff as he turned on his heel, stalking towards the exit and closing the door.
You swallowed thickly.
When he swivelled to look at you it was with a burning gaze that pinned you to where you stood.
“You bring attention to us in ways that will get us killed,” König whispered harshly, his accent was sharp and heavy with each enunciation. “You need to stop.”
“Stop what?” You waved your hands at him. “You’re so fucking vague.”
He flinched forward, pushing his finger onto your lips. You smacked his hand away like a cat pawing at something irritating.
“Would you be quiet?” He snarled through gritted teeth. König took in a deep breath, casting another look at the exit. He was watching the light beneath the door, making sure there were no shadows tipping off an eavesdropper. Why was he suddenly the paranoid one?
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You lowered your tone but the urgency behind it was still present.
“You need to stop chasing this lead,” König shook his head, gaze imploring. “You need to stop trying to find who planned the accident.”
Your mouth went dry.
“Is that a threat?” The words were a true whisper this time. Barely falling from your lips and only as audible as a soft gasp.
König’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Are you in on it?” You asked, taking a step backward.
Bile roiled in your stomach as if mimicking a stormy sea. There was a distinct buzzing in your ears, numbing you to anything but the situation at hand.
“What?” König repeated. “What? No. That is not what I meant by that.”
You shook your head, “the other day- the way you reacted says otherwise.”
He reached out for your arm and you wonder if it was to comfort you or to detain you. You finched away from him but this time the man before you didn’t yield. He did not back down and he did not allow you the illusion of control.
Instead, König held you firmly by your biceps.
“I need you to listen to me, Birdy. We don’t have time for this back and forth thing that we do every time.”
Rage tore through your chest at his dismissal and you would have told him as much had he not looked so desperate. Instead, you kept your mouth shut as the man watched you pleadingly. You would let him speak because maybe he had the answers you were searching for, maybe König would be the evidence to prove that these suspicions weren’t delusions.
The man cast another glance towards the doorway before letting go of your arms. You straightened cautiously, being mindful to not rub at the skin he’d had contact with.
“Well?” You whispered impatiently, waving a hand at him to continue. “You wanna manhandle me or do you want to talk?”
“It’s not safe for us to talk here,” König’s words were barely audible. “You need to stop with your head-hunting. Stop asking questions.”
His eyes were fierce, warning you not to challenge his demands but you couldn’t care less. He, of all people, had no right to be telling you when to chase answers.
He raised a hand before you could speak. “You are going to get us both killed because you gather intel like a child-”
“What does that even mean?” You interrupted harshly.
“It means you have alerted everyone, Birdy!” König snapped, his voice harsh and his eyes flashing. “Whoever did this knows that you’re onto them. They know that we know.”
You blinked dumbly, stunned.
The man glared at you for a long moment, his chest heaving with laden breaths. The silence that eneveloped you both was anything but empty. There was a buzzing in your ears and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or horrified that he’d confirmed your suspicions. Blind rage filled your lungs as if you were drowning.
“You mother fucker!” You hissed between gritted teeth, shoving at his chest with as much force as you could muster. “You fucking knew?”
“Of course I knew!” König bit back as he stumbled for his footing. “I’ve been trying to find them and you have been hindering me every fucking step of the way, Birdy.”
You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, you wanted to bash this man over and over just like he’d done to you. You weren’t insane but he was more than happy to intimidate you into thinking that you were.
“How could you keep this from me?” Your fingers dug into the skin of his arms as you grabbed him. You wanted to shake the truth from the giant before you, rattle the honesty right from his mouth. “After everything that’s happened!”
König didn’t so much as wince at your nails in his skin, fury simmered in his eyes like molten jade. “I was your main suspect and you outright told me about your suspicions while you were locked in a room with me, Birdy. What would have happened if I was actually everything you make me out to be?”
You swallowed thickly, your fingers loosening their grip.
“I could have killed you right there,” König continued softly, “at this rate you’ll die before you find them.”
“You said I already tipped everyone off,” you rasped, almost meek in tone. “How have they not come for me yet?”
The man rolled his shoulders, shooting another paranoid glance at the door. He continued talking as he scanned the room, searching for telltale signs of a third party.
“Everyone thinks you are disabled, Birdy, no one is taking your concerns seriously.” König straightened, levelling you with an evaluative glare. “But I knew better.”
You drew in a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments before releasing just like Saint had taught you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the thought of your therapist. You told them everything- König was right. You’d mouthed off your suspicions knowing that Saint and Price were close. What if Saint had told Price? Then Price would have told Shephard and Simon and then- God.
You’re so fucking stupid.
Of course everyone knew, you’d practically blasted it across the unit’s P.A system.
“What now?” You managed to croak. “What do we do now?”
König frowned at you, his body falling still. “We?”
“You’re not leaving me out of this,” you ground out.
“We are not doing anything together,” he said, eyes roaming over your features quizzically. Your heart lurched desperately, there was no way you’d let him do this without you. You deserved to be a part of this, you deserved to get your justice and whoever did this deserved to die.
“You owe it to me!” You nearly raised your voice, fear trickling down the expanse of your spine. Not a fear of the man before you, but this time it was a fear of being left behind. Left to paranoia, left alone with your thoughts and suspicions and no one to hear them.
König shook his head, “we cannot work together.”
“We have to!”
“We can’t!”
Your eyes were wide and your chest was heaving as the man before you gripped your shoulders. He lowered down to a knee, drawing close enough that you were only a breath apart. You opened your mouth to offer a shaky response but the way his gaze ran over your features stole the words straight from your tongue.
“I will not risk your safety again, Birdy.” König’s words brushed against your lips, warm but sorrowful. “That is what I owe to you.”
ahhh! ive missed u so much my könig prophet ❤️ 😭 how are you bestie
HELLOOOOOOO I cannot lie to you I return to you at a very dire time of my life. (Let’s just say the AO3 curse did strike me.) But I am excited, and I really want to write for König again. What have I missed? Any good fics in my absence? (Doesn’t have to be König only)
being anti ai is making me feel like in going insane. "you asked for thoughts about your characters backstory and i put it into chat gpt for ideas". studies have proven its making people dumber. "i asked ai to generate this meal plan". its causing water shortages where its data centers are built. "ill generate some pictures for the dnd campaign". its spreading misinformation. "meta, generate an image of this guy doing something stupid". its trained off stolen images, writing, video, audio. "i was talking with my snapchat ai-" theres no way to verify what its doing with the information it collects. "youtube is impletmenting ai based age verification". my work has an entire graphics media department and has still put ai generated motivational posters up everywhere. ai playlists. ai facial verification. google ai microsoft ai meta ai snapchat ai. everyone treats it as a novelty. every treats it as a mandatory part of life. am i the only one who sees it? am i paranoid? am i going insane? jesus fucking christ. if i have to hear one more "well at least-" "but it does-" "but you can-" im about to lose it. i shouldnt have to jump through hoops to avoid the evil machine. have you no principles? no goddamn spine? am i the weird one here?
In the last month alone SEVERAL high profile examples of AI Psychosis have cropped up (r/AISoulmates, Kendra who fell in love with her psychologist, a 60 year old man who gave himself BROMIDE POISONING on ChatGPT’s advice). If the idea that AI is destroying society, communities, the earth, and your own MENTAL CAPABILITIES isn’t enough for you, then how about the idea that the reasons you use AI for could destroy your mental and physical health?
2nd person, gender neutral reader insert, slow burn romance, (kind of) friends to lovers, great gatsby inspired, memory loss/temporary amnesia, a little bit of a mystery, eddie and volt are married
2.3k words
Your best friend invites you to a lavish party, where you proceed to get way too involved with the mysterious hosts. But soon, your dreams start to become both vivid and confusing, and you soon begin to suspect your new "friends" are not entirely what they seem.
crossposted to ao3
please note: If you've seen the previous version of this, I changed it to be second person so it's more gender-neutral. I'm sorry for any confusion or if you preferred it third person, but I really think it's worth it!
It's six forty seven PM on a serene Friday evening, and your entire closet is on your floor.
"Are they just like…rich guys who throw a gigantic party sometimes?"
Skylar pouts. "That's so reductive, you know. They're very nice!"
"You know them?" You hold up something you probably haven't worn since high school. Skylar crinkles her nose in disapproval.
"Kind of…? We go way back, in a 'we existed in the same building for an extended period of time' sense."
"That's a really weird way of saying that you used to be coworkers…" You resurface with the top Skylar tasked you with finding.
"Perfect!" She claps her hands together in excitement.
"I don't know…for a house party?"
"I told you, it's a mansion. Like a hundred people show up and they all dress like it's a club." Skylar herself is wearing a dark blue dress and a furry white jacket that screams party animal.
"That's a lot going on, though. A party that's also a club sounds like it could get really chaotic fast." You slip the outfit on, and Skylar stands to help you. Not too bad, you decide as you regard yourself in the mirror, re-arranging your necklace and turning over the ring on it. It's nice to dress up and leave the house once in a while. You've been a bit of a homebody as of late, something Skylar seems determined to remedy. "I'm not used to just showing up to strangers' parties."
"Well, I'm one of the few who will actually be invited. They sent an actual paper invitation." Skylar pulls one out from some unseen pocket and hands it to you. You stare at it, dumbfounded. "And so are you!"
For a moment, you think your eyes must be playing tricks on you. But no, it's right there, printed on the pretty light blue paper: your name, inviting you to the party.
"Did you give them my name? Skylar, who are they? Nepo babies? Influencers?"
"They made their money in real estate. Listen, you probably won't even run into them. They're hosts of a huge party—they'll be busy, and we can lose ourselves in the crowd and just have fun!"
You sigh. "I'm sorry. I already agreed to go, I don't know why I'm being difficult." Ordinarily, you'd chalk this up to going-out nerves, but this time it feels like something more. Like destiny is at your door.
It's just a party, you remind yourself. One night will not change your whole life.
It is the kind of party that could change your life, though.
A million different movies play through your mind as the two of you pull up to the mansion. You'd been expecting a trim, skinny-looking influencer mansion: something boxy, almost flat, with too much glass and painted stark white. Instead, the place looks almost like a castle, with tall glowing windows set in stone walls topped by actual spires.
Skylar skips across the expansive driveway and right up into the house like she's been here before. You find yourself shimmying awkwardly after her, not wanting to look like an out-of-place interloper. But as you join the throng entering the cavernous hall, you quickly realize that everyone here is an interloper.
"Shouldn't there be people checking invitations or something?" You end up having to shout so Skylar can hear. There's a very severe-looking man in a suit who just screams bouncer by the front door, but he just gives you a mysterious smile before he disappears into the crowd.
"Nah! Most of these people haven't been invited. Like I said, they just show up!"
"That can't be up to fire code," you mumble.
The crowd spills into a huge main room, with a set of enormous double doors at the back thrown open to reveal an equally crowded courtyard facing the lake. There's music, drinks, and glitter everywhere. You find yourself relieved that Skylar made you wear something more formal. Sure, people look like they're at a club, but a nice one, like the unspoken dress code of a classy bar.
Speaking of Skylar. You turn to find her a natural social butterfly, spinning and greeting people that she can't possibly all know but who all seem to know her. You stand quietly by her side, petrified to be separated from the only familiar person in this enormous house.
"Okay, listen. Parties here are usually pretty tame, but if we get separated, just go looking for the host. His name is Volt." Skylar gently shuffles you to the side to make more room for people entering the house.
"I thought there were two hosts?" you ask, privately wondering how you're supposed to find just one dude in the case you can't even find Skylar herself.
"Yeah, but you probably won't run into Eddie. He tends to make himself scarce unless something goes wrong."
"Wait, so, his name is Volt? Is that like, an alias?" Skylar only shrugs in response, and you're left with more questions than answers.
Of course, you immediately lose track of Skylar. At first, you think your friend is playing a prank on you, but you know in your heart of hearts Skylar would never do such a thing.
You're not as anxious as you thought you'd be, though. Being surrounded by so many strangers, none of whom are paying attention to you, actually gives you a comforting shroud of anonymity. At least, until you feel a hand on your arm.
"Hey!" A woman with vibrant orange hair grabs your arm, but her touch is so light and her expression is so open and friendly that she doesn't feel threatening at all. Familiarity lights up her pretty green eyes, but it's gone so quickly that you wonder if you imagined it. "Come here! Have some drinks! I came up with these myself."
You're pulled along, like a raft on the river of this stranger's bubbly enthusiasm. "I'm sorry, I'm trying to find someone?"
"You're at a party! There's no rush. Sit and have some fun with me. Besides, I'm really proud of these new recipes." The woman sits you down at a bar with several other people already sitting and chatting with drinks.
You blink. Why not? It's not like Skylar would ever leave without you. You have all night, and you may as well enjoy yourself. "Sure…you're the bartender?"
"Oh! No, I'm a guest like you. But I run my own bar in town, and when I'm here Eddie and Volt kind of let me run wild. I think Eddie's glad someone else is taking care of the drinks."
"You know Volt? Skylar and I got separated, so I'm looking for both of them…" You haven't ordered, but the woman is already making a drink. She gives you an indecipherable look.
"For sure! He's great. He could charm the pants off anyone, and sometimes I kind of hate him for it, but it's also impossible to hate him." She slides a drink you've never seen offered on any menu before across the bar. "Give it a try. Let me know if it tastes familiar."
You stare down the drink. "It looks great, but, um…I don't think we've met before? I don't even know your name."
"Ah! Right, of course!" The woman bonks her forehead with her hand in an exaggerated manner. "Beverly. It's Beverly."
Beverly then proceeds to get you incredibly, wildly drunk. She's reasonable at first, starting you out with singles. But as the night wears on and the new acquaintances you're meeting all start to blur together in your mind, eventually, you have to admit that you've pushed yourself well beyond your limit.
"Oh, Skylar is going to kill me," Beverly sighs. "I can't believe this is happening again. C'mon, drink a little bit of water."
You're far too occupied to notice the glass of water that keeps being shoved your way, more than a little distracted by a new guy at the bar. He's wearing a red motorcycle jacket over a white turtleneck that very nicely shows off his physique, and there's an easiness to the way he leans back to talk to his conversation partners that's insanely hot. You're just about to put all that liquid courage to use when your stomach roils, and you realize with horror that said liquid courage has instead chosen to make a reappearance. Soon.
"Bev," You say unsteadily. "I think that tequila thing you gave me is about to come back up." Beverly's face whitens.
You can't recall the last time you threw up thanks to drinking too much, which you quickly realize is probably your own memory protecting you as you grip the bowl. Beverly tuts and rubs your back soothingly as you retch, offering you sips of water between heaves. Less than half a glass actually makes it into your system.
"Stay here. I'm going to get something to rehydrate you, alright?" You barely register Beverly leaving, laser-focused on recovering from the woozy spell keeping your head in a vise grip. When you finally feel a little more like a normal human being again, you walk to the sink and try splashing water on your face and rinsing out your mouth. It helps sober you up—at least a little bit.
Still tipsy, you suddenly find yourself back out in the party. The crowd sweeps you along, through the hall and out into the courtyard and right into a different wing of the house. It's kind of fun to wander around alone and explore. You're technically still looking for Skylar by doing so, right?
"Party's back that way."
You start a little at the sound of a man's voice. You tear your eyes away from the gorgeous light fixtures on the ceiling to find a handsome, tired-looking guy with dark hair and steely gray eyes that are almost green.
"I'm sorry?"
"You're forgiven." The man takes a sip from his drink. It's only now that you realize you've walked into another room with a bar, although this one is much cozier and completely empty. Well, except for the man nursing a glass of amber liquor.
You're at a loss for what else to say. "I was just wandering around. It's a pretty house."
The man raises an eyebrow. Interestingly, his are notched, so they look like they're growing in a zigzag shape. "By yourself? That's kind of suspicious, you know."
It takes you a moment to realize what he's accusing you of. "You think I'm looking for stuff to steal? I don't even have room for that!" That only makes the man snort in amusement. "I'm looking for my friend, Skylar. She knows the hosts, so she's the only reason why I'm here, but we kind of got separated…" For a moment, the man almost looks chagrined, but then he's taking another sip of his drink, and you wonder if you imagined it.
"No one in here but me. So run along." You bristle at the man's rudeness. What's this guy's problem? Is he just a drunk asshole?
"You could at least give me a direction to go in. Skylar told me, uh…the guy's name is Volt? She said to find him if we got separated."
An indecipherable emotion flits across the man's face, and his shoulders tense. "Take a left, head down the hallway, go down the stairs and to the right. He's in the backyard."
You blink. You weren't expecting such an exact response. "How do you know that? For all I know, you could be sending me on a wild goose chase just so you can be alone with all the expensive booze."
"Yeah, that's it." The man quirks a corner of his mouth, almost resembling a smile. "But it's the only lead you've got, so you'd better get to it."
He's right. So you go.
To your surprise, the man's instructions do, in fact, lead you to the backyard facing the docks. The lake is gorgeous, an inky black expanse glittering with moonlight. You turn the corner to find yet another enormous crowd of people, which just pisses you off a little. You decide to blame the anonymous bar asshole, even though you know it isn't his fault.
You must look like a little lost lamb navigating through the crowd, because someone squeezed in right behind you speaks in your ear as they make their way up the stairs as well. "Looking for someone?" asks the deep, accented voice.
You're sure if you turn to look at the speaker, you'll stumble on the stairs and probably cause a human domino effect, so you keep your eyes trained on the people in front of you. "Is it that obvious?" you pout.
"Ah, I'm simply more attentive than most. But you do look quite lost."
"I am looking for someone. I came with my friend Skylar, and she told me I could also look for the host if I got lost. I think he goes by Volt?" You have to shout to be heard over the din of the crowd. "She said he made his money in real estate, but this house—this party, it's all crazy. He must have some sort of old-money stuff going on. I've heard like, six rumors about him and his boyfriend. Or partner? Husband?"
"Husband! Happily married for several months now."
"Oh! Good for them."
The crowd shifts, pulling and pushing you as you fight to not topple over. The swell dumps you out onto a landing overlooking the backyard and lake, where you finally have room to move around. "I just keep hearing things about this guy and not actually seeing him. At this point, I doubt anybody actually has!"
A sonorous chuckle comes from behind you. "I'm afraid I've been slacking in my duties as a host, then." Your eyes go wide as you turn and take in who you've been shouting at.
The stunning man before you stands with his back to the railing, his hand outstretched in a gentlemanly greeting. He's tall and broad-shouldered, with pale baby blue eyes and long white hair that's tousled in a way that feels intentional rather than messy.
"I believe you've been searching for me. My name is Volt."
I'm so excited for this! It's been a long time since I've written something planned to be long and multi-chapter like this, and Date Everything has consumed my waking hours. I have the whole plot thought out, with a lot of little surprises planned. I hope you enjoy!
If you'd like to be added to the taglist, drop me a reply! I'm starting over with the tag list from my COD days, of course. And if you're here from those days, thank you. I love you. <3
Every time you have GenAI make you an anime waifu with three titties and a dumptruck ass a family doesn't get to have a drink or bathe.
Every time you ask Copilot to write you a PowerShell script to stroke your boss' ego, a city experiences a brownout.
Every time you chat with your AI "girlfriend" a farmer doesn't get to water their animals.
Using these tools actively hurts you and your community, while at the same time enriching some shitheel who would happily step on your neck to make an additional dollar. Don't use them. Actively remove them from devices you own. Disable them whenever possible. Go out of your way to avoid them. It's honestly not hard. You've been using the internet just fine without GenAI hallucinating at you.
2nd person, gender neutral reader insert, slow burn romance, (kind of) friends to lovers, great gatsby inspired, memory loss/temporary amnesia, a little bit of a mystery, eddie and volt are married
2.3k words
Your best friend invites you to a lavish party, where you proceed to get way too involved with the mysterious hosts. But soon, your dreams start to become both vivid and confusing, and you soon begin to suspect your new "friends" are not entirely what they seem.
crossposted to ao3
please note: If you've seen the previous version of this, I changed it to be second person so it's more gender-neutral. I'm sorry for any confusion or if you preferred it third person, but I really think it's worth it!
It's six forty seven PM on a serene Friday evening, and your entire closet is on your floor.
"Are they just like…rich guys who throw a gigantic party sometimes?"
Skylar pouts. "That's so reductive, you know. They're very nice!"
"You know them?" You hold up something you probably haven't worn since high school. Skylar crinkles her nose in disapproval.
"Kind of…? We go way back, in a 'we existed in the same building for an extended period of time' sense."
"That's a really weird way of saying that you used to be coworkers…" You resurface with the top Skylar tasked you with finding.
"Perfect!" She claps her hands together in excitement.
"I don't know…for a house party?"
"I told you, it's a mansion. Like a hundred people show up and they all dress like it's a club." Skylar herself is wearing a dark blue dress and a furry white jacket that screams party animal.
"That's a lot going on, though. A party that's also a club sounds like it could get really chaotic fast." You slip the outfit on, and Skylar stands to help you. Not too bad, you decide as you regard yourself in the mirror, re-arranging your necklace and turning over the ring on it. It's nice to dress up and leave the house once in a while. You've been a bit of a homebody as of late, something Skylar seems determined to remedy. "I'm not used to just showing up to strangers' parties."
"Well, I'm one of the few who will actually be invited. They sent an actual paper invitation." Skylar pulls one out from some unseen pocket and hands it to you. You stare at it, dumbfounded. "And so are you!"
For a moment, you think your eyes must be playing tricks on you. But no, it's right there, printed on the pretty light blue paper: your name, inviting you to the party.
"Did you give them my name? Skylar, who are they? Nepo babies? Influencers?"
"They made their money in real estate. Listen, you probably won't even run into them. They're hosts of a huge party—they'll be busy, and we can lose ourselves in the crowd and just have fun!"
You sigh. "I'm sorry. I already agreed to go, I don't know why I'm being difficult." Ordinarily, you'd chalk this up to going-out nerves, but this time it feels like something more. Like destiny is at your door.
It's just a party, you remind yourself. One night will not change your whole life.
It is the kind of party that could change your life, though.
A million different movies play through your mind as the two of you pull up to the mansion. You'd been expecting a trim, skinny-looking influencer mansion: something boxy, almost flat, with too much glass and painted stark white. Instead, the place looks almost like a castle, with tall glowing windows set in stone walls topped by actual spires.
Skylar skips across the expansive driveway and right up into the house like she's been here before. You find yourself shimmying awkwardly after her, not wanting to look like an out-of-place interloper. But as you join the throng entering the cavernous hall, you quickly realize that everyone here is an interloper.
"Shouldn't there be people checking invitations or something?" You end up having to shout so Skylar can hear. There's a very severe-looking man in a suit who just screams bouncer by the front door, but he just gives you a mysterious smile before he disappears into the crowd.
"Nah! Most of these people haven't been invited. Like I said, they just show up!"
"That can't be up to fire code," you mumble.
The crowd spills into a huge main room, with a set of enormous double doors at the back thrown open to reveal an equally crowded courtyard facing the lake. There's music, drinks, and glitter everywhere. You find yourself relieved that Skylar made you wear something more formal. Sure, people look like they're at a club, but a nice one, like the unspoken dress code of a classy bar.
Speaking of Skylar. You turn to find her a natural social butterfly, spinning and greeting people that she can't possibly all know but who all seem to know her. You stand quietly by her side, petrified to be separated from the only familiar person in this enormous house.
"Okay, listen. Parties here are usually pretty tame, but if we get separated, just go looking for the host. His name is Volt." Skylar gently shuffles you to the side to make more room for people entering the house.
"I thought there were two hosts?" you ask, privately wondering how you're supposed to find just one dude in the case you can't even find Skylar herself.
"Yeah, but you probably won't run into Eddie. He tends to make himself scarce unless something goes wrong."
"Wait, so, his name is Volt? Is that like, an alias?" Skylar only shrugs in response, and you're left with more questions than answers.
Of course, you immediately lose track of Skylar. At first, you think your friend is playing a prank on you, but you know in your heart of hearts Skylar would never do such a thing.
You're not as anxious as you thought you'd be, though. Being surrounded by so many strangers, none of whom are paying attention to you, actually gives you a comforting shroud of anonymity. At least, until you feel a hand on your arm.
"Hey!" A woman with vibrant orange hair grabs your arm, but her touch is so light and her expression is so open and friendly that she doesn't feel threatening at all. Familiarity lights up her pretty green eyes, but it's gone so quickly that you wonder if you imagined it. "Come here! Have some drinks! I came up with these myself."
You're pulled along, like a raft on the river of this stranger's bubbly enthusiasm. "I'm sorry, I'm trying to find someone?"
"You're at a party! There's no rush. Sit and have some fun with me. Besides, I'm really proud of these new recipes." The woman sits you down at a bar with several other people already sitting and chatting with drinks.
You blink. Why not? It's not like Skylar would ever leave without you. You have all night, and you may as well enjoy yourself. "Sure…you're the bartender?"
"Oh! No, I'm a guest like you. But I run my own bar in town, and when I'm here Eddie and Volt kind of let me run wild. I think Eddie's glad someone else is taking care of the drinks."
"You know Volt? Skylar and I got separated, so I'm looking for both of them…" You haven't ordered, but the woman is already making a drink. She gives you an indecipherable look.
"For sure! He's great. He could charm the pants off anyone, and sometimes I kind of hate him for it, but it's also impossible to hate him." She slides a drink you've never seen offered on any menu before across the bar. "Give it a try. Let me know if it tastes familiar."
You stare down the drink. "It looks great, but, um…I don't think we've met before? I don't even know your name."
"Ah! Right, of course!" The woman bonks her forehead with her hand in an exaggerated manner. "Beverly. It's Beverly."
Beverly then proceeds to get you incredibly, wildly drunk. She's reasonable at first, starting you out with singles. But as the night wears on and the new acquaintances you're meeting all start to blur together in your mind, eventually, you have to admit that you've pushed yourself well beyond your limit.
"Oh, Skylar is going to kill me," Beverly sighs. "I can't believe this is happening again. C'mon, drink a little bit of water."
You're far too occupied to notice the glass of water that keeps being shoved your way, more than a little distracted by a new guy at the bar. He's wearing a red motorcycle jacket over a white turtleneck that very nicely shows off his physique, and there's an easiness to the way he leans back to talk to his conversation partners that's insanely hot. You're just about to put all that liquid courage to use when your stomach roils, and you realize with horror that said liquid courage has instead chosen to make a reappearance. Soon.
"Bev," You say unsteadily. "I think that tequila thing you gave me is about to come back up." Beverly's face whitens.
You can't recall the last time you threw up thanks to drinking too much, which you quickly realize is probably your own memory protecting you as you grip the bowl. Beverly tuts and rubs your back soothingly as you retch, offering you sips of water between heaves. Less than half a glass actually makes it into your system.
"Stay here. I'm going to get something to rehydrate you, alright?" You barely register Beverly leaving, laser-focused on recovering from the woozy spell keeping your head in a vise grip. When you finally feel a little more like a normal human being again, you walk to the sink and try splashing water on your face and rinsing out your mouth. It helps sober you up—at least a little bit.
Still tipsy, you suddenly find yourself back out in the party. The crowd sweeps you along, through the hall and out into the courtyard and right into a different wing of the house. It's kind of fun to wander around alone and explore. You're technically still looking for Skylar by doing so, right?
"Party's back that way."
You start a little at the sound of a man's voice. You tear your eyes away from the gorgeous light fixtures on the ceiling to find a handsome, tired-looking guy with dark hair and steely gray eyes that are almost green.
"I'm sorry?"
"You're forgiven." The man takes a sip from his drink. It's only now that you realize you've walked into another room with a bar, although this one is much cozier and completely empty. Well, except for the man nursing a glass of amber liquor.
You're at a loss for what else to say. "I was just wandering around. It's a pretty house."
The man raises an eyebrow. Interestingly, his are notched, so they look like they're growing in a zigzag shape. "By yourself? That's kind of suspicious, you know."
It takes you a moment to realize what he's accusing you of. "You think I'm looking for stuff to steal? I don't even have room for that!" That only makes the man snort in amusement. "I'm looking for my friend, Skylar. She knows the hosts, so she's the only reason why I'm here, but we kind of got separated…" For a moment, the man almost looks chagrined, but then he's taking another sip of his drink, and you wonder if you imagined it.
"No one in here but me. So run along." You bristle at the man's rudeness. What's this guy's problem? Is he just a drunk asshole?
"You could at least give me a direction to go in. Skylar told me, uh…the guy's name is Volt? She said to find him if we got separated."
An indecipherable emotion flits across the man's face, and his shoulders tense. "Take a left, head down the hallway, go down the stairs and to the right. He's in the backyard."
You blink. You weren't expecting such an exact response. "How do you know that? For all I know, you could be sending me on a wild goose chase just so you can be alone with all the expensive booze."
"Yeah, that's it." The man quirks a corner of his mouth, almost resembling a smile. "But it's the only lead you've got, so you'd better get to it."
He's right. So you go.
To your surprise, the man's instructions do, in fact, lead you to the backyard facing the docks. The lake is gorgeous, an inky black expanse glittering with moonlight. You turn the corner to find yet another enormous crowd of people, which just pisses you off a little. You decide to blame the anonymous bar asshole, even though you know it isn't his fault.
You must look like a little lost lamb navigating through the crowd, because someone squeezed in right behind you speaks in your ear as they make their way up the stairs as well. "Looking for someone?" asks the deep, accented voice.
You're sure if you turn to look at the speaker, you'll stumble on the stairs and probably cause a human domino effect, so you keep your eyes trained on the people in front of you. "Is it that obvious?" you pout.
"Ah, I'm simply more attentive than most. But you do look quite lost."
"I am looking for someone. I came with my friend Skylar, and she told me I could also look for the host if I got lost. I think he goes by Volt?" You have to shout to be heard over the din of the crowd. "She said he made his money in real estate, but this house—this party, it's all crazy. He must have some sort of old-money stuff going on. I've heard like, six rumors about him and his boyfriend. Or partner? Husband?"
"Husband! Happily married for several months now."
"Oh! Good for them."
The crowd shifts, pulling and pushing you as you fight to not topple over. The swell dumps you out onto a landing overlooking the backyard and lake, where you finally have room to move around. "I just keep hearing things about this guy and not actually seeing him. At this point, I doubt anybody actually has!"
A sonorous chuckle comes from behind you. "I'm afraid I've been slacking in my duties as a host, then." Your eyes go wide as you turn and take in who you've been shouting at.
The stunning man before you stands with his back to the railing, his hand outstretched in a gentlemanly greeting. He's tall and broad-shouldered, with pale baby blue eyes and long white hair that's tousled in a way that feels intentional rather than messy.
"I believe you've been searching for me. My name is Volt."
I'm so excited for this! It's been a long time since I've written something planned to be long and multi-chapter like this, and Date Everything has consumed my waking hours. I have the whole plot thought out, with a lot of little surprises planned. I hope you enjoy!
If you'd like to be added to the taglist, drop me a reply! I'm starting over with the tag list from my COD days, of course. And if you're here from those days, thank you. I love you. <3
