#the song nightmare has become a favorite

[chlorinecake]

HELLO

Please PLEASE make a fic about the songs church- chase Atlantic!!

It's my latest obsession, next to enha ofc

leading you on | l.hs

♱ plot: from the shy boy you first met at church camp who your parents once adored to their biggest fuckboy nightmare, you and heeseung reconnect on an online platform where you became a popular streaming duo together, leading to some steamy (and eventually forbidden) connections between you two…

loser!streamer!heeseung x fem!streamer!reader

♱ contains: SLOW BURN, swearing, sneaking out, mentions of bulges (multiple times), oral and fingering (f. r.), slight corruption kink, y/n stripping in front of a large audience (on camera), unprotected sex + virginity loss, y/n deliberately disobeying her parents, angst-ish, ft. other kpop idols, roughly 7k words

a/n: this is my first time writing a one shot all about Heeseung so hopefully I did our favorite loser boy some justice in this fic... have fun reading!

Heeseung. He was always just so... flirty with you.

Not emotionally, that is, but physically.

Leaving lingering touches on your thigh during Bible study, whispering dangerously close to your ear in that bedroom voice of his, or texting you random pictures during the day with his bulge obvious in almost every single one.

Two little voices battled in the back of your mind whenever you were around him, one voice wanting him to take things further while the other found it strange how he did such things so shamelessly.

The boy's got sex written all over him, your friends would warn alongside your Christ-converted step-sister Giselle who'd had her fair share of 'guys like Heeseung' in the past.

But you didn't see him that way. Despite his flirty tendencies, you figured those were just attributes that made him who he is.

Who you've always loved him to be.

However, those Holy, Holy, God Almighty church days were long gone by now, being no more than a distant ninth grade memory to you and most of everyone else who attended back then.

Everyone except Lee Heeseung, who could never shake his adolescent infatuation with you... ____, the girl who accepted his flaws and eventually stole his heart.

You and Heeseung reconnected a few years later by chance, the same day of your one year anniversary on your streaming channel.

Initially, your content consisted of one-hour long broadcasts where you'd just talk with random strangers, hearing out their problems and giving righteous advice.

However, Heeseung became a recurrent visitor on your streams, coaxing you to speak on topics more interesting than whether its modest to wear glam makeup or if kissing should be saved for marriage.

Your channel amassed a whopping 20,000 new followers in the first month of Heesung partnering with you, and its part of what led him to becoming an anticipated guest to your growing fanbase.

A dynamic duo, some commenters would call you two... and much to your parents chagrin, at that.

Off camera, things were the same.

You and Heeseung had grown closer than ever, sacrificing sleep to text each other all night, doing fuck-all on your web streams for hours, and even considering meeting up in person for a broadcast after he shared with you that he still lived in the city.

But then... something changed.

Or more accurately, your overly controlling mother put her foot down.

|Messaging| 💬

Heeseung: So we're not allowed to hang out together this Friday ?

You: Not alone... and honestly, not on the streams anymore, either...

Heeseung: Don't tell me its bc ur shyyyy

You: Nope… pArEnTs ^^

You'd say your mom had it out to get Heeseung more than your dad ever did, resenting the mere mentioning of his name at weekly church gatherings.

"That daughter of yours has gained quite the audience on social media," one womann would say, "too bad she seems to be losing her Faith to that poor Heeseung boy..."

"Such a shame," another would agree, adding to the heat-bubbles boiling in your mother's blood-

"Our faith teaches forgiveness and kindness," you defended yourself, just as your mom gave you maybe her third lecture this week on why you should cut ties with him.

"It also advises caution and wisdom when it comes to who we allow into our social circles," she hummed back, taking a sip of her morning coffee, red lipstick staining the rim of the white mug, "I'd be no better than a fool to sit here and support this meaningless friendship between you and that... man."

You internally rolled your eyes at her words, thinking of something, anything to say in order to change the subject right now.

"Well, I have plans with some friends from church tonight, if you don't mind-"

"Will Heeseung be there?"

"What? No," you lied, and not for the first time, either.

It helped you to feel less guilt whenever you blamed it on the little voice in your head, "Just me and the girls," you clarified.

"Mhm," she smiled facetiously before continuing, "I'm afraid I still can't trust you to go, though... especially not after that little stunt you pulled online..."

Your hand halted at the kitchen countertop as her words settled in your mind, "What stunt?"

FLASHBACK

It all started with a picture.

A stupid picture you got dared to leak by an anonymous tipper who offered a $1,000 donation in exchange for a steamy photo of Heeseung.

Chelbear03: God, he looks so THICK

Chelsea, one of your viewers said in the streaming chat, practically moaning at the photo of Heeseung, biting her lip as if she could feel him inside her just by looking at the screen.

Chelbear03: PAINFUL 😩

pucca_princxss: Need a tissue for your drool, Sea-Sea? 🧻

Danielle, another fan joked.

Chelbear03: Okay, FIRST of all, I have drool coming from TWO holes rn- Secondly, I'd rather just have him lick it up 😔

Chelsea typed back, a nuance to her words that you couldn't tell was meant to be either comical or serious.

"Lick up what?" a curious voice asked from the screen.

That's when your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of Heeseung coming back into frame after saying he'd be "afk for a bit while showering."

His hair was still a bit damp from what you could tell, a towel draped lazily around his neck as your eyes unfortunately fell to the lump hiding behind his pants.

Oh God-

"N-nothing! Uhm... it's not important," you chuckled dryly, only adding to the awkwardness everyone was starting to feel from behind their screens.

pucca_princxss: OOP speak of the papi-

Chelbear03: Please forgive me, Hee-man 🧎‍♀️ ... bc I am disrespectfully foaming at the mouth as we speak-

Chelbear03 has left the stream

A notification of Chelsea having left the stream popped up in the chat almost immediately after she sent that message.

"What was that all about?," Heeseung smirked with confusion, looking between both you and the server comments displayed on his screen for an answer that never came.

"Fine then, keep your secrets... its not like I can't just rewind the stream highlights anyway," he added, just as you felt frantic emotions overcome you.

"Heeseung, you really don't wanna do that, just let me explain-"

His jaw dropped, not necessarily in shock, but with intrigue, the raunchy photo of his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants being displayed on the screen, right before his glossy deer-like eyes.

The same picture he'd only ever sent to you.

"I guess this is my mini Drake moment then," Heeseung chuckled to himself, a heavy sigh escaping your lips at his fortunately chill reaction.

"I did it for 1k, Heeseung, I'm sorry," you whined, pulling your knees up in your chair before burying your face behind them.

"Don't be... everyone already knows I'm your slut at this point," he said in a deeper voice, making you freeze once again as your eyes shot up to view the screen, almost in denial that such words even left his mouth.

anonymous tipper: worst thousand $$$ I ever spent... how abt I multiply the price by two for a sexy picture of the lady ?

yxstar3ject: ooo, but i was thinking maybe a double feature instead ? would luvvv to see how she treats this little slut of hers 🤭

Heeseung snickered so loud, you almost felt it on your skin, watching his facial expressions change with each suspicious message that filled the chat box, throughly entertaining him

"Guys, cut it out before I end the stream," you giggled shyly, revealing your full face that looked a little less flustered than earlier, "Heeseung isn't my slut either, okay? Just a good friend, I swear..."

pucca_princxss: you two need to stream in the same room one day bc this long distance sexual tension thing is so not the vibe :|

"Maybe one day..." Heeseung's voice faded off as he turned off the lights in his room, getting ready for bed...

"Maybe~~," your mother repeated in a mocking tone at the memory of your "filthy fest" of a stream that day, disgust displayed all over her before she took the last sip of her coffee as if it'd soothe her.

"Hope that refreshed your memory sweetie, but either way, my answer's no. Not with that slut on the streets and especially not without my supervision..."

“If you’re referring to Heeseung with that vulgar comment, I’m sorry to correct you, but it’s not right to just bash him with words like that,” you went on, leaning your elbows over the counter.

“Please, any guy who sends raunchy dick pics, let alone to a girl he’s not even dating, is a slut, ____,” your step-sister Giselle voiced while walking into the kitchen, dressed in athletic wear as she filled up her water canteen with a lemon flavored electrolyte packet, “not to mention those other weird things he says about your relationship on the stream.”

Despite how much your family claimed to dislike Heeseung, they had no problem with bringing him up every five seconds in a conversation.

You glanced at her through a side eye, shaking your head at the fact that she was just eavesdropping on your conversation, “That was hardly a dick pic, and you should know that better than me, Jizz-elle,” you retorted, putting extra emphasis on the first syllable of her old nickname.

“Yeah, real mature, ____… you can slut shame me but not your little online boyfriend?”

“Ladies!,” your mother raised her voice slightly, pursing her lips at the tension built up between you two, “that’s enough of this discussion…”

You noticed the way your mother’s eyes lingered on your step sister for a moment, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“To the gym,” she answered shortly, walking past your mom and out of the kitchen with haste.

You scoffed out loud, “Not gonna interrogate her like you did to me?,” you said, laughing as if humored when it was really just a way to mask how irritated you were.

“No,” your mom said with a delayed reply, “Giselle is not my blood… I must take her word for what she says to avoid conflict with your step-father… you, on the other hand, will—”

“—abide by your rules… got it,” you finished for her, knowing better than to continue going back and forth with her in this matter.

You left the kitchen, going up to your room and plopping yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you entered into a deep thinking space.

One in which you'd strategize on how to successfully sneak out of the house to hang out with Heeseung tonight.

|Messaging| 💬

You: So, you want me to meet you where again ?

Heeseung: Just take a hard right past the first stop sign from your place and a few steps past that one brown house (pls ignore my Dora ass instructions rn 🗿)

You: ok ok 😭, smart tho !! … that way, none of my neighbors will see your car :D

Heeseung: Exactly. U sure u still wanna do this, tho ?

You: Yeah, ofc ! Had enough of my mom nagging me all day ☝️ I need a release BIG time

Heeseung: Haha, okay then ! I’ll see you at 10:30pm

You: Cya ! 🐒

THE LAST TIME you and Heeseung met in person was back when you were both young teenagers, navigating hormones and puberty while aiming to keep God at the center of it all, so to speak.

You didn’t know what to expect from meeting up with him, and especially not under such circumstances.

Still, you had a pretty good feeling that all this trouble wouldn’t be for nothing.

It was currently 10:34pm as you turned off all the lights in your bedroom, wearing an all black outfit to ensure you weren’t seen.

You double checked to see if you had everything with you before leaving: phone, spare cash, and a well-rehearsed story in case you got caught.

Opening your bedroom window, you stuck out a leg, suddenly feeling thankful for your step-dad giving you the bedroom on the first story of his home.

Both your feet were on the floor now, your hands finding the window sill as you closed the window back, careful not to accidentally lock it back so you would be able to get back in later.

You then followed the instructions Heeseung outlined in your texts, walking a few blocks down and taking a right turn once you reached the stop sign.

That’s when you caught sight of his dimly lit side profile under the lights of his car and through the tinted windows.

His eyes were on his phone until your figure blocked the streetlight that shined in his car, drawing his attention to your face as a smile spread over his own.

His eyes lit up like you were the candle to his soul, stepping out of the sleek black car to come around and give you a hug.

“Oh- hi,” you chuckled shyly, hands hesitating to wrap around him before he pulled away, looking you up and down while bracing your shoulders.

“Hi,” he smiled back, “I was just about to text you when you showed up at my window… nice black fit, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said in a playful voice, watching as he opened the car door for you to get in.

“Would it be wrong of me to assume your panties match, too?,” he asked teasingly, joining you in the vehicle before pulling out of his parked position and cruising out of the neighborhood.

“Wow, you’re really representing this slut persona of yours, huh?” You teased back, putting on your seatbelt.

“Mostly because I can’t help it,” he shrugged, flashing you a smile before looking back at the road, “the fans ship us anyway, so we might as well commit to it, right?”

“Righttt,” you answered suspiciously, poking his thigh before looking back out the window, “gosh, this is crazy…”

“What is?”

“How long we’ve known each other and still happened to maintain a solid friendship despite the distance.”

“Yea,” he agreed, turning down a lane decorated with flowers that somehow still shined in the dark of the night, “We’d be fools to give up this bond we share, though… fools not to explore it further.”

He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, showing you around his place before leading you to his bedroom, a familiar sight to you thanks to the streams.

“Oh- you’ve still got your monitors and mic set up?,” you asked curiously, noticing how the screen of his computer was on the streaming website.

“You remember what Danielle said on our last live? About us broadcasting in the same room together sometime…” he started shyly, pushing out another gaming chair for you to sit in.

“You really think it’s a good idea to stream right now?,” you rationalized, watching as he joined you in the nearby seat, “I mean, I’m obviously down for it, but what if my mom sees it again? Or Gisel—”

“I’ve already blocked your mom's account, ____, we should be fine,” he smiled, “and… if not… I’ll exchange another photo with your anonymous tipper for some forgiveness cash,” he shrugged, pouty lips making you melt a little inside. "Deal?"

You always knew that Heeseung was cute, but you didn’t think it was possible for him to get any better looking from behind the screen.

“Okay then,” you agreed with a sigh, hoping that your nerves would calm down once the broadcast started.

Almost instantly, 100 viewers joined when Heeseung pressed the “stream” button.

You both began with greeting everyone, trying to get past the chat’s excitement about finally getting to see you two in the same room together.

yxstar3ject: OMFG YALL ACTUALLY DID IT ❗️ this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤧

Chelbear03: holy fucking fuck, how is she so CALM NEXT TO HIM 😩

mrloverl0ver: everyone in favor of them playing truth or strip for us, spam the chat with W’s

pucca_princxss: hoon, you raging perv- WWWWWWWWWW XD

Chelbear03: ✨ W ✨

laylaspapi: W no homo wait, why's my name pink now ;-;

yxstar3ject: I took orange the other day ~ sawwy Jakey W <3

You watched as the chat box started to flood with W's and other random comments, feeling Heeseung sat a hand on your thigh as if to make you feel more comfortable.

"Alright peeps, chill out with the chat spamming, we see it," Heeseung said, laughing off some of the tension, "It's not like you guys didn't get a free show the other day, anyways," he added.

"I don't know..." you started, voice and logic trailing off as more letter W's filled the screen, "it might be fun?"

"____," Heeseung said more seriously this time, "it's a pointless game, y'know? We're honest with the fans... they already know most of secrets, so its silly to do truth or strip..."

"Great. That'll only make it more challenging for them to get our clothes off then," you smiled, suddenly feeling excited about playing, a bit of your competitiveness rubbing off on the initially cautious boy.

"Fine then... we'll do it," Heeseund said, eliciting a few viewers to send gifts to your broadcast, "I'm gonna need a drink for this first, though."

Heeseung was doing a good job of making it seem like he wasn't totally down for this, even though on the inside, he was mostly concerned with making sure you felt comfortable, too.

He left the room for a moment before coming back with two canned cocktails in his grip, placing them on his desk in front of you two.

"I'm guessing you don't drink much," he said, popping open a can of sugary fizz with his teeth while making eye contact with you, "so take it slow with this, yeah?"

"Sure, dad," you joked, taking a sip from the can, hoping that the alcohol would maintain your fleeting confidence, considering that you'd just agreed to strip in front of hundreds of people online.

Chelbear03: alr, first question heheh, starting easy !! :))) when was the last time you got upset and why

Chelsea was the first to initiate this little "truth or strip" questionnaire. Heeseung read the question out loud before humming to himself in thought.

“Hmm... maybe when I overcooked my ramen this morning?”

"Who eats ramen for breakfast?" You asked with a dry laugh.

"Don't judge me because I have good taste, ____," he replied, shoving your thigh with his knee a bit, "and you're dodging the question..."

"Oh- right," you chuckled shyly, thinking of what to say and whether to be honest, until you remembered the consequence would be to remove a piece of clothing.

“It was um... over some stupid things my stepsister was saying about a friend of mine… also this morning...”

"Does that friend so happen to be me by any chance?," Heeseung asked knowingly, giving you a look that you quickly brushed off.

"Moving on, next question!"

anonymous tipper: name the last person you hooked up with $100 donation on the line here, btw... plus someone's modesty 🙈

Oh God, you thought to yourself, dreading how this anonymous tipper knew you'd do almost anything for money.

It was really a bad trait of yours...

"Wow, just jumping to the extremes, aren't we?," Heeseung mumbled between a sip of his drink, the wet condensation drawing your attention to his glistening digits for a quick second.

How were you just now noticing how thick his fingers ar-

laylaspapi: uh oh someone looks nervous ...

pucca_princxss: mission accomplished 👹👹👹

In all honesty, you didn't really have an answer to that question, but to avoid coming off as prudish, you opted to take a pair of clothing off instead, lifting your hips in your seat to pull your pants down.

"____, what the-" Heeseung started before choking a bit on his drink, not just at your sudden boldness, but at the sight of your lace panties hugging the natural curves of your hips, pants getting bunched up at your ankles before you kicked them off under his desk.

yxstar3ject: 😭😭😭😭 DEFINITELY wasn't expecting that, oml-

Chelbear03: your turn, hee 🙏🙏🙏

Something about how frazzled your usually calm and collected best friend became at the simple act of you undressing before him gave you a feeling of exhilaration.

By now, your top barely covered the flesh of your thighs, a few commenters saying things about "wanting to take a bite" before Heeseung cleared his throat, hoping that they'd stop making things worse for him.

"Well uh, I'm not willing to strip a layer just yet, plus I could use the $100, so I'll be honest..."

The chat stalled momentarily as if everyone watching paused in eager anticipation of who and what Heeseung was going to say.

"It's been a while, I'll admit," he chuckled dryly, staring off as if envisioning it behind his sparkly eyes, "but it was around a year and a half ago... with a girl I'd rather not name, but she was a bit older than me..."

"Oh?," you accidentally said out loud, a strange feeling of happiness washing over you now that you knew he hadn't been with any girl since you two met reconnected. You're not sure why this information made you happy... or maybe you're just not ready to admit how you truly feel about him to yourself yet...

"How'd you two meet? Wait- why am I even asking that," you cringed at your own inevitable curiosity, Heeseung taking delight in how his timidness somehow rubbed back off onto you.

"Nah, it's okay... I'm sure the viewers wouldn't mind a little storytime-"

He adjusted his posture in the chair, eyes scanning a few new comments before he spoke, "I met her during my bad boy stage, I guess you could say... we bonded over the fact that we were both born in October until we eventually started smoking together at a friends house of mine every now and then... she and I were both going through some divorce drama with our parents and uh... we thought fucking would be a good emotional outlet? I don't know, maybe it was more of a distraction, I guess..."

Heeseung didn't expect himself to ramble the way he did, but he wanted you to know the main details, even though he left out a few parts for another time and conversation.

Chelbear03: what would it take for me to be that girl ? just for one night 😔

maindancertypeshit: pretty sure Hee just confirmed he's into older girls, Chels ... and ones with daddy issues at that-

You nearly snorted at the sudden comment, up until you realized who the last one came from.

"Excuse me, but what the hell is a toddler doing on this stream?" Heeseung asked sarcastically, obviously referring to Niki.

pucca_princxss: LMAO, looking for his mommy ofc 🤱 (😏)

maindancertypeshit: ayo, wtf??? so dani's allowed but I'm not?? hmph >:{

maindancertypeshit has left the stream

You sighed while laughing slightly, taking a sip of the drink as water droplets now dripped unto your thighs, Heeseung's eyes doing a terrible job of not staring.

"I say we do one more round before ending the stream," you offered, looking at the time as you knew you'd wanna spend more private time with Heeseung before having to run back home.

yxstar3ject: BOOOOOOOO :(

Chelbear03: im too pressed abt riki rn to give a damn bro did NAWT have to dish me the truth like that 😭😭

mrloverl0ver: ok ok, let's make this last question worth it then hmmm ...

Sunghoon typed in thought, just as the bulb in Heeseungs side lamp suddenly shattered, the loss of light coupled with it's piercing sound making you jolt in your seat, half of your canned cocktail spilling on your shirt and chest.

"Shit," Heeseung swore under his breath, happy that none of your drink or any glass from the lightbulb got on his streaming equipment.

That's when he noticed you shivering a bit, the cold liquid contrastingly with the warmth of your body.

"C-can you grab me a towel please?," you asked softly, Heeseung taking the can from your grasp and leaving the room with haste to grab a damp and dry cloth for you.

"Here," he offered when he came back, hooking his hands at the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one swift movement, making you gasp out loud.

You were now half-naked in front of your best friend, not to mention the tons of people watching from their digital screens.

"Heeseung, what're you-"

He was now taking off his own shirt, holding it in one hand while he wiped your chest down with the cloths he held in the other.

There was something about the way his eyes looked while wiping down your boobs, coming off as romantic despite the awkward nature of the situation.

"Put this on," he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, snaking your head through the head hole of his T-shirt while he flicked the ceiling light on, your mind running in a hundred different directions in this moment.

You're not sure if it had something to do with the alcohol, but your skin still tingled in the spots where his fingertips grazed your flesh... just like old times...

You don't think you ever put on a T-shirt faster in your life, wanting to cover up as fast as you could despite how everyone had already gotten a free show from the both of you.

laylaspapi: B👀BS ?!?!? caught in 4k? just like that !?!??!????

mrloverl0ver: guess that means the games over now since y'all started stripping regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

pucca_princxss: I think Heeseung's house might b haunted :'0

Chelbear03: HEESEUNGS FUCKING ABS RN- IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME !??!?

yxstar3ject: 👁👄👁

The chat was going crazy at this point, their flood of comments honestly being the last thing on your mind as you sat bottomless in Heeseung's gaming chair, wearing his T-shirt as he searched for another shirt somewhere behind you.

A billion emotions were coursing through your veins, still trying to grasp how you went from sneaking out your bedroom window, stripping in front of an audience, and getting flustered from the mere presence of Heeseung now.

"Alright guys, this was fun but we're gonna call it a night for now," Heeseung said as he came back into frame, not even bothering to sit back down as his right hand found the mouse, moving it towards the end stream button.

"Yeah, I think my streaming career might end here," you added jokingly, making Heeseung chuckle a bit at your words, his bright smile doing nothing but make your stomach flutter all over again.

What was going on with you?

"Who knows? Maybe we can work on starting an OnlyFans together ..."

"Heeseung-"

"I'm kidding," he laughed again, looking at your face from the screen, not even aware of how he bit his lip before speaking, "you look pretty on camera though, for what its worth."

The all-too familiar tune of the livestream ending rang in your ears, the screen displaying stats of the broadcast engagement, which surpassed any and every stream you've ever filmed before.

"Wow," Heeseung marveled, just as he shut his computer off.

"I know," you added, stretching your back while sitting, "we don't even reach stats like that in a week..."

"I wasn't talking about the ratings, ____," he returned, the room seeming much more quiet now that the computer was off, even though it's been this way the whole time.

"Enough about that, though," he started again, taking your hands in his to pull you out of the chair, "I haven't been a very good host to you this evening... making you work first thing before properly treating you... allow me to make up my lacking..."

"I mean... you gave me a nice seat and something to drink... you even lended me one of your shirts after I made a big mess of myself," you replied while giggling, feeling silly as he held both of your hands while speaking formally all of a sudden.

"Yes, yes, but I'm serious," he continued, now guiding you down to the rug lying in the middle of his bedroom floor, "you still like candy, right?"

ALMOST ANOTHER HOUR had passed and it was somewhere around midnight give or take, you and Heeseung hardly feeling tired as you sat on the mat together, alternating between eating orange slices and gummy bears.

You were propped up on your elbows, a glow still present on his face from the laughter you've shared together so far, even though there was something less innocent you wanted to get off your chest.

You were feeling completely reckless already, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to push things a little further.

Besides, it’s not everyday that a girl like you gets an opportunity like this just placed in her lap.

It's just like Heeseung said, you'd be a fool to give up this bond you two share and not explore it further...

Plus, you weren't sure how much longer you could hide behind the good girl act.

Giselle was right: Heeseung had sex written in full length parables all up and down his six-foot-something body, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.... if you said it didn't reel you in, like a burning desire to explore what's corrupted.

To be ruined.

"Heeseung," you started, making him look down at you as he sat with his legs crossed, hair messy from the amount of times he ran a hand through it, "can I ask you something?... It's... kinda personal..."

He popped another strawberry flavored gummy bear into his mouth, "As long as it isn't about your period, I should be good to help you then," he chuckled slightly.

"And what makes you think that I need help with something?"

"Hmm… maybe just that way that your nails keep picking with my wrist watch right now," he answered quietly, drawing your attention to your fingers which tend to get busy whenever you were nervous.

"Oh- I... I didn't even realize...," you laughed at yourself, shying your hands away before sitting up and hiding them in your lap.

"Well go on," he urged, looking back at you with warmth in his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, "What'd you wanna ask me?"

You let out a breath, clenching your thighs a bit as your sight fell between his legs.

Fuck, did he just laugh? God, he definitely noticed your peeking... you fucking perver-

"I don't really know how to word this but..." you chewed on your lip in thought, "Sometimes... when it's just you and me alone like this... even when we're just video chatting... I feel," you looked up at the ceiling as if it'd help you divulge, "I don't really know what to call it."

He blinked at your words, adjusting his sitting position on the ground, "Are there certain things I do or say that make you feel... whatever it is that you can't explain?" He asked, tilting his head at you, just as his hand inched closer to you on the rug, but not quite touching your skin yet.

"Its a few things, actually-"

"Like what?" His hand was now on your thigh, eyes glued on your shaky figure even though you avoided eye contact, lost in the veins that trailed the pretty skin of his arm.

"When you touch me," you whispered so quietly, the only reason he heard you was because he read your lips, thinking in his own mind what it'd be like to taste them, "like that."

"Speak up for me, I can hardly hear you," he urged, almost as if cooing at you.

"I can't," you said shakily, chest expanding slightly with each heavy breath you took in and let out.

Your idea of being bold was starting to backfire... if only you could stop being so awkward about this for one second-

"It's just me, ____," he whispered with a slight chuckle this time, your hands finding the fluffy rug beneath you as your skin still stung from where he'd last touched you, "be as honest with me as you need."

"Maybe it's best we just pretend I never said anything," your voice trailed off, regretting having looked into his dark eyes that stared back at yours because you felt as though your shield had faltered, his energy coaxing your mind to wander.

"Would you mind if I took a guess?," Heeseung offered with an expression you couldn't read, but you nodded anyway, just as his hand traveled further up your thigh, your breath hitching in your chest as you felt his finger tips meet your core.

"You feel something in here, don't you?," he whispered again, "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Like hunger pains, you answered in your head, finding his shoulder as half of you thought to push him away while the other half just needed to touch him.

You nodded shyly in response, thankful that he didn't move any further so you could catch your breath, already too effected by his actions.

"I feel it sometimes, too. The aching... but I'm sure you're old enough to know there's only one way to get rid of it."

You didn't even have to ask to know what he was implying, feeling tempted to give in to whatever this urge was.

He was right though. It did ache, and so badly, your own core tearing up with a need you never intended to entertain.

That's when his touch creeped closer to your core, your thighs closing around his hand as you struggled to think clearly.

You almost couldn't in a state like this.

It baffled you how the energy was starting to change, but it was only a matter of time that you'd be able to sit bottom less in front of Heeseung looking the way he does before something sexual would happen.

"Are you willing to let me help you?" He asked, gripping your flesh between his hands as a shy sound fell from your lips.

You were having second thoughts.

"As much as I'd like to, Hee, it just doesn't seem right anymore..."

Even though this was all your idea to begin with-

"But doesn't it feel right?" he pressed, feeling his hands gently pry your thighs back open, but its not like you were putting up much of a fight either, "Besides, you wouldn't have told me if you didn't want me to do something about it..."

In this moment, you couldn't care less about maintaining that fleeting sense of virtue all the elders in your life harped on growing up.

You were simply young, horny, lovesick, and in need of a release.

Before you knew it, your legs were parted for him, your back against the rug as his head got comfortable at your heat, fingers barely grazing over your now bare cunt before he started leaving plush kisses against your sweet spot.

The ache was definitely still there, but having him this close to you made it feel better.

Almost too good, honestly…

“Heeseung-” you cried out, clamming your thighs around his head as you felt his thick and warm tongue enter you.

Hooking his hands at your knees, it helped to open you back up for him, feeling your stomach tighten as he continued to lick you down.

“I’m still here, baby…” he cooed, looking back up at you, just as your phone started to ding, "relax for me, alright?"

It was a few random messages here and there, you being too pleasure-drunk to give a damn as he continued lapping at your slick, alternating between one and two fingers as he teased your hole, only making you want more.

“Fuck…s- someone’s calling me,” you whined, propping up on your elbows with tired eyes as you reached for your phone, seeing none other than Giselle's contact number as Heeseung left your core, getting on his knees and unbuckling his belt.

"What're you-"

Your words were cut off as he leaned closer into you, his bulge resting in between your folds as he looked into your eyes and said, "Answer it."

He was already rocking against your pussy as you struggled to stay focused, his boxers being covered in your slick just from how wet you'd gotten, even though you nodded no.

“You want me to help you, don’t you?” He continued, completely aware of your stalling and hesitance as the phone continued to ring, your breathing only getting heavier as he kept grinding against you.

You bit your lip, clenching around nothing as his fingers cascaded over your sensitive spot. Heeseung practically drooled at the sight, your tight little cunt all slick and messy for him.

"Hello?" Giselle asked over the phone, "where the hell are you right now?"

Fuck.

You watched nervously as Heeseung pulled his boxers past his hips, his thickness springing up now that it was finally free to breathe.

"What're you talking about, I was just in my room," you lied terribly, watching Heeseung with pleading eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, bracing a hand on you lower abdomen while glaring back at you, a glint of playfulness in his doe eyes.

Oh, the way you wanted to smack him across his pretty face right now-

"I wasn't born yesterday, ____. I checked your room an hour ago and you're still not here. Tell me where you are," she continued, voice cracking a bit as you winced through a bitten lip, thanks to Heeseung somehow having slid his thickness inside you.

Well, most of the way, at least...

"____?"

"Y-yes, I'm listening, just- don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit-"

"That still doesn't answer my question, ____..."

Thud.

You accidentally dropped your phone beside your head once Heeseung pushed all the way in now, leaving a few kisses along your neck to help you calm down.

His hips were still, but for some reason, your breathing remained shaky beneath him, your step-sister still awaiting your reply on the other side of the phone.

"Call you later," you said in a squeaky voice, reaching over to hang up the phone as Heeseung started to move again, your legs trembling a bit as the nerves in your mind traveled through your whole body.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked sarcastically, hand following a trail from your waist, over your boob, then to your neck, goosebumps sprouting on your skin as you suddenly felt cold, your body internally shivering.

"Hee," you said with a whimper, feeling his grip loosen around your neck before he started thrusting into your walls, your slick providing just enough lubrication for him to slide in and out easily.

You couldn't even think in your mind at this point, his actions already becoming more than you could handle given how new everything was.

How nice he felt.

"C'mon, don't get quiet on me now, baby, I just started," he teased, slamming his pelvis against yours to hopefully reel a moan out of you, which obviously worked, your hand flying up to grip the fluffy rug over your head as it became harder to hide your sounds.

He hissed at the feeling of you clenching around him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.

"So either you like it when I'm rough with you or when I call you baby..." he started in a low voice, "which is it?"

"M-maybe both... now can you stop trying to turn me on with your words for one fucking second?," you asked with labored breaths, feeling your orgasm creep up on you a lot sooner than anticipated.

Sure, this was your first time, but you were glad he didn't treat you like a baby during the whole thing.

There was just something about the way his voice sounded in this moment, the way he was rutting into you like a horny teenager that took you over the edge.

And he was being such a tease, trying to make you talk knowing that your sentences would be broken and whiney thanks to how rough he was going.

He wanted to hear you falling apart underneath him.

He let out the most attractive chuckle you'd ever heard at your words, "But I can tell it's working," he smirked, bracing himself against the floor so you could wrap your legs around him better, "now quit your complaining and keep taking me like a good girl, alright?"

You're sure your clit started doing backflips at the pet-name, coupled with the pretty sounds he was very intentionally humming beneath your ear.

He found your wrists on the rug, sliding up to your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours,

“Stop trying to act tough, I can tell this is all new to you…. don’t even know what to do with your hands, huh?” his said, watching as your eyes get lost in the view of his shaggy hair.

He snickered, “you can touch it if you want…”

Fuck, you thought to yourself. You don’t know why you felt the need to put on some act for him… maybe it was because you assumed a competition between yourself and other girls he’s been with, even though in reality, you’d been the only girl on his mind for a while now.

“I…,” you started with a stutter, “I can’t.”

Your fingers were still interlaced with his, but your inability to touch him had less to do with the fact that he had you pinned down, and more so to do with your nerves.

As badly as he wanted to keep toying with your head in this moment, he could you were getting closer from how your breath kept hitching, so he didn’t have much time to play.

Releasing his grip from your hands, he brought a thumb to your chin, tapping at it for you to open your mouth, “I’m gonna speed up now then, okay?”

He choked out, his own head becoming a little fuzzy as you parted your lips obediently for him, the sight of your tongue laving at his fingers being enough to make him feel like cumming.

He knew you had to get home quick now, but he still wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.

Once he collected enough of your spit on his fingers, he slid his hand down, circling your swollen bud while looking into your eyes, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Fuck, Heeseung~,” you cursed with furrowed brows, whimpers that almost sounded like high pitched hiccups falling from your lips as you felt your hips chase his.

There was so much energy coursing through both of your bodies that it could charge your dying phone on the floor right now.

“It’s okay baby, you’re almost- shit, you’re almost there,” he grunted weakly as he continued fucking into your walls with his fingers at your clit, his own eyes closing at how good your tightness felt around him.

You never heard yourself sound like this before, getting all whiny just as he whispered the words “Come for me” against your neck, sealing the space with a kiss and retreating his hand from your core, holding you in place as your orgasm hit like a flood.

You were squirming so much, walls pulsating like a drum as he kissed you down, your hands finally being brave enough to grip at his hair while he rode out your high.

You could tell that he didn’t finish inside you, but he was nice enough to slow down and not fuck you completely stupid.

“I can’t even believe we just did that,” you mumbled mindlessly, eyes staring back at him as he started to gently caressed your cheek.

“Wasn’t too bad for a quickie though, right?,” he asked jokingly while still inside you, not quite yet ready to pull out of your comforting warmth.

To say goodbye to the you he brought out in this sex-filled space.

“No… it wasn’t bad at all,” you smiled back, words sounding somewhere in between a shocking realization and sincere compliment.

“Then I guess that means we can look forward to doing this more often-”

“Heeseung-”

“Kidding,” he whispered softly, meeting your lips in one last kiss before leaning back up to adjust his pants, “now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for home before your mom has me crucified.”

“Okay,” you said while laughing slightly until he pulled out of you, your legs trembling a bit from the missing fullness.

From the feeling in his chest, Heeseung came to fully accept that he was 110% in love with you, not giving a flying fuck about the naysayers who’d disapprove of your now-even-more-complicated friendship.

You on the other hand, came to realize that Heeseung was worth much more than being judged by a bunch of hypocrites, and that you now had the courage to make a lot of your own decisions now, even if they’re solely for the sake of pleasure.

”Still,” you continued, watching as he stood up from the ground to grab a pack of wipes from his desk, “I just remembered that I locked my bedroom window when I left.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked while parting your legs, wiping your sweaty thighs down with your panties hunched up in his other hand.

You admired the view of him cleaning you up with adoration flooding your heart, your limbs letting themselves relax as feathery words fell from your lips, “It means I might have to spend the night at your place for a little longer…”

Fin…

♱ Thank you beyond words to everyone reading this right now! I teased the release of this fic a while ago but ended up changing almost everything that I’d originally written because it was kinda shitty 🥴 but hopefully you all enjoyed this fic anyway! Also, masterlist is here !!

♱ tag list: @fakeuwus @adeoluhh @zerasari @anonant @yaatrickyaaa @depressedandobsessed666 @woninluv @moonshoon @imjakes-wifeofc1 @heesbee @kaykay11sworld @wannieepisod @ilikekpop-c @heesoo11 @idkdykilr @seungjiseyo @nctislifue @ro-diaries @heesushiii @jakehooni @babygirlmarshmellow @jaysdze @princeseung @flowerbe0m @skzenhalove @rayofsunshineeee @wonsbaer @namdeyuoi @tasnim10 @cheruluv @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ashgonedash

#heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enhypen hard hours #heeseung fic #heeseung ff #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ff #lee heeseung #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen #heeseung smut

[juqtier]

☆◞: IM ALWAYS JUST A DOOR AWAY ✧ SPENCER REID

SPENCER REID X FEM READER

SUMMARY: when you moved in to your new apartment, you never imagined your neighbor, spencer reid, would be such a nightmare. he wasn’t your favorite guy. in fact, you hated him. unfortunately for you, you can never seem to escape him. the universe clearly has other plans for you two.

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption in some chapters, angsty, arguing, spencer is kind of (definitely) an asshole, kissing, cursing, somewhat darker plot points as story progresses (this is my first ever full story fanfic! so it might be bad…) this will also be 10 parts so yayyy

GENRE: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

⋆·˚ ༘ *

chapter 1 : a nightmare..

✎Was it even possible to hate someone so much that even the thought of them made your blood boil?

You never thought that was even possible. You were always trying to see the best in people, even if they were rude to you. That all changed when you moved next door to Spencer Reid.

Spencer Reid

The bane of your existence.

You had moved into your first apartment alone, with the help of your parents loaning some money and your waitressing job, when you had the unpleasant experience of meeting him.

God, he was so stuck up and pretentious. Getting to know him might have been your biggest regret.

The first day you met him, he immediately gave you an attitude.

You weren’t all that familiar with this area, so you took it upon yourself to try and make friends with the neighbors.

As you walk up to the door and knock, you become excited at the potential of a new friendship.

Behind the door, you can hear a quiet, muffled voice and some shuffling before it’s opened to reveal a rather tall man looking down at you.

“Yes?” He sounded a bit annoyed, yet you continued your introduction.

“Hi, I’m your new neighbor! My name is-“

“Cool, I’m really busy, and if it isn’t important, don’t bother me.” The man quickly shuts the door.

You were so puzzled and quite upset.

Who just shuts the door on someone’s face like that?

-‘๑’-

However, after some time, you forgave it. Everyone has bad days; everyone is very busy at some point. Maybe he was just overwhelmed, right?

That was until you saw him again, in the parking lot of the apartments.

You found out his name was Spencer Reid from some other neighbors. This only made you more interested in getting to know him, or at least being civil with each other.

You were getting out of your car after returning home from work when you saw him coming down the stairs to the parking lot. Trying to be friendly, you waved and smiled.

“Hello!” Your expression was bright and kind, as always. Something Spencer never seemed to return. He visibly rolled his eyes at you, rushing to his car.

Did I do something wrong? Did I say something to offend him? Do I have something stuck in my teeth

Your thoughts ran wild, doubting every interaction you have had with anyone before. Were you just annoying? You barely had a conversation with the man; how could he find you annoying?

Maybe he just sucked?

-‘๑’-

For months, your interactions were the same. You’d attempt to be friendly, and he’d quickly (and quite rudely) shut you down. You had convinced yourself he was just a busy man until you were proven right. He just sucked.

Friday, 10:49 pm

Music played throughout your living room as you unwinded on your couch. The weekend had just begun, so you decided to finally relax. Work had been extra shitty today, and you felt you deserved a break. You sat on your couch, reading a book, as your favorite songs played when you heard a knock at the door.

Who could be knocking so late?

Placing your book down and quickly turning the music off, you rush to answer the door.

As it opened, you'd never been more confused to see Spencer Reid standing in front of you.

“Uh, hi? Is something wro-”

“Can you turn the music down?” He seemingly snaps, not even letting you finish your sentence.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to have it so lo-”

“If you’re going to blare your music, you shouldn’t have such terrible taste.”

You were taken aback. You were used to the interruptions, the eye rolling, even being completely ignored. But now, he was just being plain rude.

“What? I said I’m sorry.. What’s your problem?”

You were almost about to snap at him. It took all of your power to not rip into him, calling him every name you could think of.

“My problem? My problem is that ever since you moved here, I can’t get even a moment of peace. Some people have jobs and commitments.”

What the actual fuck?

“Holy shit, Spencer. I’ve done nothing to you, but all you’ve done is be an asshole to me!”

Your anger and frustration seemed to boil over in that exact moment, not caring if you hurt his feelings anymore.

“Actu-”

“No, let me talk for once. I don’t know where you work or what you do to make you think you are so morally superior to me, but fuck. You are so fucking mean.“

He seemed shocked at the sudden outburst, as you only ever showed him your bright and bubbly side. His eyes widened slightly, not expecting the blow-up.

“You don’t get to talk down to me because you’re in a pissy mood. So leave me the fuck alone.”

With that, you slam your door in his face and quickly turn around. Your fists clench as you storm to your room and flop onto your bed, letting out a groan of frustration.

God, he was a nightmare.

-‘๑’-

PT 2

a.n : sorry if this sucks or is boring! i’ve never wrote a story like this before but i hope it’s okay!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #juqtier writes… 🐈 #cm imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

[amomentsescape]

can you do soft headcanons with the J squad, please?

Soft! Headcanons with the J Squad

Jerome Valeska x Reader

Jonathan Crane x Reader

Jervis Tetch x Reader

A/N: This is my first time writing for Jonathan and Jervis, so I hope this came out to your liking!

Jerome Valeska

He's one of those guys that truly doesn't care what he does in front of people, or what others think of him

Do you want to cuddle up against him in front of everyone?

He'll proudly hold you in his arms

You want to plant kisses all over his face just because?

He happily smiles through them all

Whatever you want, he'll give you

Doesn't matter when or where

And this doesn't change in private either

He loves physical touch, so you're up against his side about 23 hours out of the day

He's also clingy in his own way too

You're using the bathroom?

He just walks right in, no shame

You're getting dressed?

Oh, let him help you with that

He might not admit it, but he likes having eyes on you every minute of every day

As happy as he acts all the time, he does really worry about you

You're a huge part of what keeps him going

Without you, he literally has no humanity left

Jonathan Crane

You are basically his life line

When the nightmares become too much, he grabs ahold of you to reassure himself that he's not alone

When you aren't around, he doesn't eat, doesn't drink, and finds himself engulfed in utter terror

He actually needs you

Even if he wants a bit of space, he needs you in the room with him so he has something he knows is real

During the good days, he's very attentive to you

He enjoys being cuddled up next to you, listening to you talk about random stuff

He also likes when you play with his hands

Physical touch can sometimes be overwhelming for him, but just the softest feeling of your fingers against his helps ground him

There are some moments where he hides himself from you

He's so afraid that he'll hurt you or something will come and take you away from him

But each time, you're there to coax him out of that darkness with a gentle smile and a reassuring voice

He knows deep down that he'll always be able to count on you

Jervis Tetch

He enjoys having a routine with you

Each morning you get up together and have breakfast

In the afternoon, you both share tea and pastries

And at night, you both put on colorful matching pajamas while you read to him

He just really enjoys affectionate time with you

Your arm wrapped in his, the occasional kiss on the cheek or hand, and being entangled in each other's embrace every night during bed

Whenever he has a nightmare about his sister or finds himself going too mad, he seeks you out

You're able to bring him back better than anyone else

He likes to bring home lavish clothing for you to wear

One of his favorite things is playing dress up and watching you try on all the stuff he's gotten for you

And if there's one outfit he finds especially pleasing, he'll take you in his arms and sway you around to whatever song pops in his head

During his low moments, he'll lay against you and ask you to tell him a story

It doesn't really matter what it is, he just enjoys hearing your voice and feeling your chest vibrate against his ear

#j squad #jerome valeska #jerome valeska fluff #jerome valeska headcanon #jerome valeska imagine #jerome x reader #jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska preference #jonathan crane #scarecrow #dc scarecrow #jervis tetch #gotham jervis #gotham headcanon #gotham fandom #gotham x reader #gotham

[bogleech]

I have a song stuck in my head at absolutely all times always; I have no idea what its like to not have music looping in my mind. And the thing is I NEVER enjoy the song once it's stuck. I can't say I have favorite songs in general because once I hear a song enough to know it by heart I no longer feel anything listening to it.

So I always have a song playing, and I never ever like the song as I'm incapable of actively liking any song the moment it's familiar to me.

What's also bizarre is that almost every single night of my life, having a song stuck in my head makes it harder to sleep.

You might ask how I know that if there's never not a song? Well, as I'm falling asleep and the real world is warping into dream logic, my dream self always without fail gets upset enough by the looping song to wake me up a couple times, like a nightmare only not cool. The music becomes infuriating or maddening in half-dreaming reality.

Notably, my dreaming mind always thinks we've had that same specific song stuck our ENTIRE lives, and gets upset about that. I literally have a moment almost nightly where I wake up thinking, in a deeply distraught state, "WHY HAS IT ALWAYS BEEN THIS SAME SONG?!?!"....the stress of this snaps me fully awake, and then in the fully awake state I realize, no, it's a different song usually. Then I fall back asleep just hoping I won't think this again.

Does anyone else have this deranged relationship with music. I still absolutely love music and crave good music but music also kind of makes my life miserable.

[teddy-yandere]

Platonic Yandere! Zoldyck Family x Reader

⚠️WARNING⚠️ will contain dark themes

A / N = Sorry for any grammar mistakes, I did not proofread this. Please read my bio before requesting, and make sure that my requests are open or else your request will be deleted. Enjoy <3

«★»———- HXH Adult Trio Masterlist

* .:｡✧*ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. * * .:｡✧*ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. * . *.:｡✧ *ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. *.

★ When you were first born , Silva and Kikyo made the easy decision to not raise you to be a assassin. ( Silva thought that you were too weak , and Kikyo just wanted to have you all to herself ). That being said , you were raised away from the whole “ must become a assassin “ vibe of the house. Instead you would spend you days with mainly Kikyo ( you mother ) .

★ It did doesn’t matter what your gender is , Kikyo loves to dress you up in fancy outfits.

★ Because you are so precious to the family , I can imagine Silva and Illumi being extremely strict over everything you can , and can’t do . Illumi is the type of guy who hovers over you shoulder watching everything you do with his blinking black eyes. He stares at you so much that sometimes you swear that you can feel someone staring at you in the middle of the night. While you are in bed .

★ Before you even ask - yes Illumi gets very jealous of his siblings whenever you hang out with them- especially Killua, instead of him. Illumi will happily let you sleep in his bed at night , when it rains ( or if you have a nightmare ) because he knows that you feel safe with him.

★ He will happily hum you a soft song and rub your back to comfort you whenever you have a nightmare

★ Milluki is the type of guy who would typically charge his other family members for his services - but not you. In fact , I am pretty sure that you are the only meme we if the family who is “ nice to him “. Similarly to the rest of his family , he feels a sort of obligation to take care of you.

★ That being said , he will happily monitor all of your social media accounts , and eliminate any of your online friends who he feels you two are getting “ to close “ to each other.

★ Zeno is definitely a more laid back yandere compared to the others.

★ He honestly prefers to stick to spoiling you , and trying to make sure that you know that what the family is doing for you is good. Since the moment you were born , Zeno made sure to get in your good side ( by buying you ice cream whenever you wanted ). That way , you would follow his rules. Now that I think about it , Zeno and Kikyo are very similar in many ways. They both love spoiling you. <3

★ Killua is extremely clingy to you. Because he is a little spoiled,he will basically demand your time. Whenever you were little , Killua would love to boss you around ( in a playful way ). When he is older , he definitely loves to protect you from any else. Remeber how I said that Illumi gets jealous of Killua ?… well yeah.

★ The two brothers are basically in a emotional battle to be your favorite. Let’s just say that they get very competitive. Poor Alluka has to try to drag you away from their mess.

★ I got too lazy to finish this

* .:｡✧*ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. * * .:｡✧*ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. * . *.:｡✧ *ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. *.

Thanks for reading , Darling !! <3

Have a nice Day / Night ~

#yandere headcanons #anime #yandere #teddy yandere #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere illumi #yandere illumi headcanons #yandere illumi zoldyck #yandere illumi zoldyck headcanons #yandere zeno #yandere zoldyck #yandere zoldycks #yandere zoldyck family #yandere kikyo #yandere killua #yandere killua headcanons #yandere milluki #yandere silva

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Silly light headcanons because I really need them

I've been going through a very tough time and today I really need some fluff to distract myself. I hope you enjoy.

BEN teaches the older creeps that are bad with electronics how to play video games. They have creep family game nights, and the older creeps usually don't participate because they aren't as good, so BEN has been taking them aside and teaching them how to play so they can feel more confident in participating too. He never laughs or judges them for their skills, and he reminds them that the others would be happy if they participated too.

There's a game of tag that has been going on in the mansion for several years. They keep switching who the one person that's It is, but to the point that people will forget who is It. Jeff was once It for seven months, to the point nobody could remember, and he tagged Toby in the middle of dinner which caused absolute chaos. They can choose to tag someone immediately, or hold onto it and wait for a moment of surprise, but you can't tag someone who was just It on the same day, and you can't tag people when they're asleep or working. Everyone in the mansion has been It at least probably 10 times, but they keep it going because it's so amusing. Tim is currently It, and he's been It for three months. He wants to get Slender, but Slender knows this and has been careful to avoid physical contact with Tim. Tim is a patient man. He will win this.

When someone can't fall asleep due to nightmares or bad memories haunting them, they're allowed to go to Slender, and he'll play piano for them. He'll sit with them, and play whatever song they'd like so long as he knows it or can see the sheet music for it. Sometimes they'll sit there for hours, the creep leaning sleepily against Slender as he plays for them. He'll even make a delicious warm drink for them first if they request it or he feels they could benefit from it. Slender doesn't mind missing out on his own sleep, as he likes to put the residents first and foremost. When they're calmed down and drowsy enough he'll walk them back to their room, give them a hug and a pat on the head, and send them off to bed. He'll always stay awake a little while longer in case they come back to him.

Sally has started sneaking people candy. Lately, she's been using her allowance money on others, as she feels it's one of the few ways she can help out. If someone has been very down lately, she'll ask someone to run her into town, and she'll go to her favorite candy store and pick out the creep's favorite candy if she knows it, and a few things she thinks they'd like. Once home, she'll grab some stickers from her collection, and put the stickers and the candy in the creeps room for them to find later. She does this purely to try and give them a little something to brighten their days and doesn't need anything in return, although the creeps that receive these little gifts always return the favor and get something for Sally to repay her. Her gifts have often made a few of them quite emotional, and it makes them all feel quite special.

There is a shared mansion Minecraft world. They have a rule that you can't destroy things someone else builds which everyone respects, and it's become common for people to play together. Sometimes it's the whole mansion, sometimes it's just a group of them, but they all have a lot of fun exploring the world together. BEN has built the most and often volunteers to build cool houses for everyone. Jeff helps people with mining the most and if someone asks him to get a certain amount of things for them he's happy to do it. Toby and Sally are making a zoo together, collecting a bunch of animals, and making beautiful and nice places for the animals to live in. Some of the creeps play more than others, but they try at least once a month for everyone to play together, in the same room or on a call, and it always devolves into happy chaos as everyone plays in their own special ways.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #slender mansion mayhem #ben drowned #ben drowned headcanons #ben drowned headcanon #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanon #ticci toby headcanons #jeff the killer headcanons #jeff the killer #tim wright #tim wright headcanons #tim wright headcanon #slenderman #slenderman headcanon #slenderman headcanons #sally williams #sally williams headcanons #sally williams headcanon

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ Afterlife

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Fire On Fire - Sam Smith

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Synopsis: Simon thought that staying with you would be giving you a death sentence, he thought breaking up would protect you better than he ever could. He was so wrong in the end and regrets it deeply.

Word count: 6.966

Masterlist

Flashbacks are paragraphs in italics!

TW!! Mention of character death, suicide.

If this triggers you then please don’t read it!

Simon has never been easy, he has reminded you of that fact countless times. He doesn’t open up easily, he rarely shows affection, and rarely says ‘I love you’. But on the other hand, he’s insanely loyal. Willing to go to impossible ends to stick with you. He’s so incredibly protective, he’d go to any means necessary, especially in this line of work, to keep you safe from danger. Even if it means sacrificing his happiness, and letting you go. He’d never meant to just take your love for him for granted. No, that was never his intention. But when his identity gets leaked to the enemies, and they’re threatening him with you? Common sense flies out the window and he has one thing on his mind. Keeping you safe. Even though he knows you are fully capable of protecting yourself and others, he isn’t looking at this matter from a soldier’s point of view. No, he’s looking at it as your lover.

So when he goes home to pick some stuff up for you two at the barracks. For once, he’s actually in shock. His apartment, your shared apartment has been ransacked. No doubt by the people wanting to watch him burn. They have figured out where you live. Your safe sanctuary has become unsafe, and he hates it. This is his last straw. He’s doing this for your own good, he keeps telling himself that. He takes his time in the apartment. He grabs the stuff you’ve asked for and whatever he needs. But he also looks at every single object that reminds him of you. He glances around your shared bedroom. All of the little things remind him of the time you spent together. He looks at your guitar that is resting on the wall next to your dresser. You’ve always loved music, in all shapes and forms. You loved making your own music. Composing and singing songs for him. You loved listening to your playlists while working out. Playlists you made him listen to and he slowly grew to love. Now he can’t start his workout without having the music blasting in his ears.

His favorite song of yours though? Definitely the first one you wrote. You called it ‘Fire On Fire’, and you explained that it sums up your relationship perfectly. Both are insanely protective of each other, in the field you use it as an advantage. Always make sure to be paired up, you two get the job done efficiently without any casualties. When you two work it’s like a choreographed dance. You always know what the other is thinking. He remembers the times when he had nightmares, and let's face it, it happens frequently. You would softly sing this song to make him go back to sleep. And he would sleep without nightmares those nights.

You walk into his small office in your shared apartment happily and excitedly. “Simon!” He looks up at hearing you call his name. He casts a look at the papers waiting to be signed by him on his desk. He shoves the papers aside. Ready to give you his undivided attention. “What is it, lovie?” You grin at him, “I finished it! I finally finished it!” You say happily. He looks at you confusingly for a moment, “what did you finish?” You chuckle, “the song! Do you want to hear it? If you’re not too busy of course.” He casts another look at the papers before smiling up at you, “I’m never too busy for you, lovie. Let’s hear it.” You clap happily, “great let’s go!” You drag him by the hand to your bedroom. Where your guitar is resting on the bed. You grab it and sit down on the bed. You smile at him sheepishly, “I’ve figured out the lyrics for the whole song but I still need to figure out the melody I want to use. The chorus, however, is done. I’ll sing and play it for you.” He nods at you for you to continue. You play a few chords before starting.

“Fire on fire, would normally kill us.”

You start with a shaky breath. Slightly nervous of what he might think. As if he can read your mind. He smiles at you and motions for you to continue. He mouths, ‘you’re doing great.’ This sparks your confidence and you sing with a brighter tone.

“With this much desire, together we’re winners.”

You close your eyes as you let yourself get carried away by the song.

“They say that we’re out of control and some say we’re sinners.”

“But don’t let them ruin our beautiful rhythms.”

“Cause when you unfold me and tell me you love me.”

“And look in my eyes.”

You open your eyes and glance at Simon, who’s staring at you with an awestruck look on his face. You smile at him.

“You are perfection, my only direction.”

“It’s fire on fire,” you hum, “fire on fire.”

You close off the song as you slowly stop playing. You put the guitar down, “so what do you think, my love?” Simon is still staring at you with an awestruck expression. “It’s perfect lovie. You outdid yourself.” You give him a shy smile, “I wrote it for you, to remind you of the love that I feel for you. That I’m always there for you, no matter what happens.” He stays silent before engulfing you in a tight hug. You widen your eyes but hug him back nevertheless. You could get used to this warm fuzzy feeling.

He sighs and leaves the bedroom. He enters the living room. He looks sadly at the overturned furniture and broken glass everywhere. Yet despite all of this, this is still your home. No matter how run down it gets, the memories will stay and be there forever. Serving as reminders from the once-happy couple. He looks at the pictures that are, surprisingly, still hanging on the walls. Pictures that have his face hidden, in every single one. You’ve respected his wishes by not putting up pictures with his face revealed. He looks at one particular picture.

Today the 141 was granted some time off. Bonding time for the team, as Price calls it. You’re all dressed casually. No one would guess that you’d be highly trained individuals looking like this. Well except for Simon, for he’s still donning his iconic skull balaclava. You’ve come up with the idea to have an outdoor picnic so that you all can relax and share food. Everyone prepared a little something for the picnic. John brought some sandwiches, Kyle brought lemonade, Johnny brought cupcakes, you and Simon prepared various fruits covered in chocolate. Your spot is surrounded by all different kinds of flowers. The big wide smile that you’re wearing on your face has made Simon’s entire year. After you’ve eaten. You decide that running around the flower fields will be a great idea. You beg Simon to run around with you, saying that it’ll be fun. Knowing Simon has a hard time saying no to you, you give him a small pout and he instantly agrees. Albeit a little begrudgingly. You drag him through the fields as you let out loud boisterous laughs while Simon is smiling behind his balaclava. You can tell by the way his eyes crinkle and sparkle in delight. Johnny takes a picture of you two sneakily. Knowing Simon would beat his ass if he found out. But in the end, it’s worth it, this will be one of your most cherished memories.

He smiles fondly at the memory that comes through when he stares at the picture. His smile slowly fades from his face. Maybe he doesn’t need to break up with you, you’re fully capable and he can protect you if anything were to happen. But what if something does happen? He could’ve prevented it all if he just didn’t let his resolve break. No, he has to do it for your sake. He’d rather have you hate him and be alive than you still loving him and dying because of him. He heads to the front door and takes one last look around. You’ll have to be relocated, and preferably far away from him for your safety. Your apartment isn’t safe anymore. He nods and closes the door behind him. He’s not ready to close this chapter but he has to. It’s the right thing to do. He heads back to you, reciting in his head what he’ll say to you in the meantime. Yet every time he chokes up and can’t think of what to say. He’ll have to wing it and hope he doesn’t look as pathetic as he sounds.

Once he makes it back to base, he’s on a hunt for you. He can feel his gut twisting in ways that make him nauseous. He wants to back out, so fucking bad. But then he sees your dead figure and then reminds himself you’d be happier and safer without him. Without the constant figure of death looming behind him. Following him everywhere he goes. He eventually finds you in the commons room with the rest of the team. You didn’t notice him walking in until he stopped in front of you. “Simon! You’re back, did you get the stuff?” He shakes his head, “can we talk, privately.” You give him a worried look but nod and follow him to wherever he’s leading you. He eventually makes it to his office and holds the door open for you. You step inside as he walks up behind you. You turn to him with a confused look on your face. “Did something happen?” You ask him. He nods his head, “our place got ransacked. Probably the same people who found my real identity.” You widen your eyes before narrowing them, “okay. We’ll deal with them swiftly then. The faster the better, right?”

Simon takes a deep breath in, it’s now or never. He opts for now. “I don’t think they’re stopping there. And let’s be honest, our progress is slow.” You raise a brow, “we can push the mission, maybe the higher-ups will let us focus on them.” He shakes his head, “that’s not happening. Listen, I think it’s better we go our separate ways.” The distraught look on your face makes his heart shatter. “Wait what? Why? We can go through this together! You can’t just throw away what we have now!” He shakes his head, “they’ve already breached my privacy. How long will it take for them to find out about us? Do you know how dangerous that is for you? It’s for your own good.” He refuses to tell you they’ve already threatened him by using your name. You can feel anger flaring up. “So what?! I’m fully capable of defending myself! You of all people should know this, Simon!” He can feel his temper rising, “I know! I am fully aware! Don’t even think that I doubt you because I don’t.” He says the last part softly. Not wanting to argue with you, not like this. You cry out desperately, “then tell me Simon! What are you so afraid of?!” He looks you in the eye, “you!” You get stunned by his answer, before you can retort he continues, “I’m afraid of losing you.” He says with a small voice. You stare at him with an incredulous look, “yet you want to break up?! You know how ridiculous you are sounding right now?!” He stays silent. You scoff, tears welling up in your eyes. “So this is it then? Just like that?” He nods, “I’m sorry, but you’re going to get hurt if you stay with me.” Hearing that he’s determined in his decision you nod, accepting it. “I’ll see you on the next mission, lieutenant.” You turn around, ready to leave his office. He reaches out for your arm, grabbing it softly, “please, it doesn’t have to be like this.” You whip your head around, tears falling, “then how do you want it to be? You want to stay friends? Fine! I’ll see you around the base then.” You ramble out, not letting him speak before storming out. A few tears fell from his own eyes. He rubs his eyes aggressively, rubbing his black face paint everywhere. ‘Good job, Simon. You’ve ruined the only good thing you had in your life.’ He thinks to himself. ‘It’s for her own protection’ is ringing through his mind like a mantra, torturing him with the thought of you.

The next few months are hell for the both of you. You’ve been drowning yourself in work and composing more music, while Simon has been drinking his mind away. Wanting to forget the immense hurt look you had on your face when he said those regretful words. The rest of the team isn’t blind. They can see something happening between the two of you. They’ve tried talking to you both about it but only to get the same words back, “he broke up with me.”, “I did it for her protection.” Johnny having enough of both of your sulking moods, decided to try and fix whatever’s been broken between you both. He knocks on Simon’s door before turning the knob and letting himself in. “I think the point is to wait for an answer before you let yourself in.” Simon slurs out his words as he holds a glass of whiskey. Johnny frowns and takes the glass from him, “you’re out of your mind L.T.” Simon scoffs, “tell me something I don’t know.” Johnny raises an eyebrow, “you need to get your shit together. You’ve been miserable without each other. Everyone can see it, fucking hell even the birds can see it, except for you guys.” Simon chuckles dryly, “thanks for the pep talk Johnny, you can leave now.”

He frowns at Simon’s response. “Leaving her in the name of protection is so fucked up on so many levels, Ghost. If anything she’ll be in more danger without you by her side than without you. So I’m not requesting you. I’m demanding you to get your shit together, apologize to her, and get back together already.” Simon stays silent, thinking about it. Knowing he finally got through to the lieutenant he leaves to let him figure it out on his own. All he needed was a little step in the right direction.

Meanwhile, you’ve been summoned by Price. You walk into his office, which happens to be next to Simon’s. “You’ve asked for me Price?” He nods and motions for you to sit. “We have intel on a secret base to the north of here,” he says while pointing to a location on a map. “We need someone to quickly get in and out and retrieve more intel.” You nod along, “I’m guessing you want me to go in?” He nods, “that’s correct. I’m warning you, this will be a solo mission. The lesser the better, unless you want Ghost to come along.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I’ll go solo.” You state. He nods, “you leave tomorrow at 8 in the morning with Kyle, he’ll be your exfil.” You nod and leave, wanting to prepare for the mission.

Morning comes and you gear up together with Kyle. You head to the small heli that’ll bring you to the site. You can’t help but have a sinking feeling in your gut, you can’t tell whether it’s the pre-mission nerves or if it’s the heartache you’ve been experiencing for the past months. You load up into the heli and close your eyes as you listen to the rotors whirring. Trying to shut down so you could shake off the feeling but to no avail. Usually, Simon would help you. But this will be the first time in a while that you’d have to do without.

You sit in the chinook nervously. Nervous for the upcoming mission. At this rate, you’ll make yourself sick. Johnny is sitting to your left, giving you a worried look. You wave him off saying, “I’ll be fine in a minute.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you but he doesn’t push it. You close your eyes as you try to calm down. You can hear a heavy thud coming from your right. You ignore it as you’re more concerned with your nerves. Suddenly a hand engulfs your own and squeezes it. You crack open an eye and smile once you’ve realized who it was. It’s Simon, who’s staring at you with warm eyes through his mask. He doesn’t need to say anything, he can convey it all with his eyes. Instantaneously you can feel the nerves leaving. All you need is Simon and you’ll be alright.

You open your eyes. The sinking feeling has not left at all, if anything it only increased. Making you feel slightly nauseous. You notice Gaz looking at you concerned. He crouches in front of you and takes a hand of yours in his own, squeezing it like Simon did. You give him a small smile, appreciating his attempts. But in the end, it just isn’t the same. The helicopter lifts off and soars through the air. As the base gets smaller and smaller in the distance, you can’t help but feel that it might be the last time you’ll see the base. You feel your phone vibrating in your front pocket. You open up the pocket and fish out your phone. You frown once you see the lit-up screen. It’s Simon, of course it is. You choose to ignore it for now. Whatever he needs to say can wait until you return. Right now, you need to focus and get yourself and that intel home. Eventually, the heli slows down as it prepares to descend. The doors open as you leave the safe space. You check your comms once more before nodding to Gaz. “I’ll be waiting for you here, don’t do anything stupid.” He tells you. You chuckle at him, “as long as you don’t get into trouble I won’t either.” He rolls his eyes. You give him one last look before leaving.

As you make your way to the hidden base stealthily you can’t help but feel like something is not right. ‘Come on. You’ve been on countless missions like this with the team. It’s been fine then, it will be fine now.’ You think to yourself. You close off your mind as you trek through the dense vegetation. Eventually, the base emerges from the treetops. You lay down as you pull out your binoculars from your side. You spot a less guarded spot, that’s where you’re going to sneak in. You get up and make your way down from the overlook. While keeping watch of the guards around the spot you want to infiltrate. You notice they don’t have a set patrol, which might work in your favor later when you start taking down guards.

You approach the spot and hug the wall. You grab your grappler from your pack and launch it onto the railing of the wall. As you ascend the wall you take another look around, if you’re not careful they could see you and raise the alarm. You quickly ascend to the top and take out the guard hanging around that area. You shoot the next two with your silenced gun. You don’t bother hiding the bodies, it should be a quick in and out. You lean over the wall as you look around for the next entry point. From what you remember of the map that Price supplied you with, the office with the documents should be near your position. You quickly scan the main building looking for the office. Your eyes land upon a room. Bingo, that should be the office. You figure you could quickly make your way to a side entrance and make your way to the office from there. Any other entry point would be too risky, resulting in you getting caught.

You make your way down with a rope and head for the fire escape staircase. No guards are stationed there so it should be a quiet way in. You ascend the stairs and quietly open the door that leads to the building. You keep your gun up in case. Noticing no visible threat you let out a sigh of relief and start heading towards the office. Luckily you didn’t come across any guards on your way to the office. You entered the office quickly and closed it quietly behind you. You lower your gun and look around. ‘Right, any important papers and any other valuable intel is what I came for.’ You remind yourself. You head to the computer and start downloading files from it to a stick. Laswell can analyze that data later. You start making quick work of the drawers. Pulling out any important-looking documents and storing them in your pack. Once you’ve run out of stuff to take, you unplug the stick and store it as well. You take one last look around the office. You hold a finger to your comm, “Gaz. I got the intel. Heading to exfil now, eta 20 minutes.” You hear a ‘copy that.’ from Gaz as you swing the door open.

Only to be greeted with a pistol aimed at your head. You recognize him as one of the leaders of the organization. “I’ve been expecting you, sergeant.” You notice he’s alone, essentially you could make a move and make your escape. But he would likely try and shoot, thus alerting the whole base. It’s either that or get captured by them, which would lead to your demise. Preferring your chances with the first option. You raise an eyebrow at him, “well you aren’t expecting this.” You quip as you shove his arm upwards, making him shoot in surprise. Not even 5 seconds pass and you can already hear footsteps thundering in your direction. You shove him and make a run for it, knowing if you try and go for the kill, his henchmen will surely kill you. You leap through the door and close it shut behind you. You take a quick look at the positions of the guards. They’re all swarmed around you. There’s no way for you to get past them without getting injured. And you definitely don’t have the stopping power to brute force your way through.

You quickly radio Gaz to update him, “I’ve been made!” A bullet whizzes by your head. Gaz surely heard it too. Well shit, your position is now known. Shortly after more bullets are flying your way. You duck down, you try to come up with solutions. You can’t think of any right now. You’re just going to have to make a run for it and hope for the best. You shakily bring a finger up to your comms, “I need to make a run for it, there’s no other way!” You inform Gaz. You hear rustling on his end, “negative! Stay there and preferably out of sight. I’m coming to get you out of there!” He shouts out. You widen your eyes in shock. That’s a horrible plan. You voice out your opinion, “are you insane?! What is one person going to help?! There are hundreds of them versus us two!” You can hear him cuss. “Fuck! Okay, you listen to me right now! Take as much cover as you can, I’ll try and provide covering fire. I’m not far from the overlook, give me 1 minute.” You peak over the cover, and grimace. You might not have a minute. Some are getting ready to storm your position. You think, the main entrance is going to be full of them. They haven’t found out where you came from so they’ll expect you to exit via the main entrance. The way you came in is going to be your only option.

“Okay, I’m in position, whenever you’re ready.” You hear his voice crackle through the comms. You inhale and exhale. ‘Now or never.’ You think to yourself. You point your gun at the small squad at the base of the stairs. You open fire at them, mowing them down successfully. You quickly run down the stairs and make your way to the wall. You feel a hot pain in your shoulder. You’ve been hit. You don’t even need to look, you were going to get hurt one way or another. Not feeling much from it you continue running to the wall, using trucks and containers as cover. Not staying too long behind cover otherwise you’ll get overrun. Sometimes you can hear thuds around you, signaling that Gaz is doing a good job at providing covering fire. You make it to the wall in record time and start climbing the rope. It’ll be a miracle if you don’t get more injuries while scaling the wall. You brace yourself for whatever might come your way. You make sure the rope is still secure by tugging on it a few times. Satisfied with the sturdiness, you start climbing up. You can hear multiple rounds go into the wall next to you. Sooner than later bullets start embedding themselves all over you. Your legs, torso, and shoulders. You wince in pain as everything starts to burn with every move you make. You grit your teeth until you make it to the top.

You rest for a minute as you assess your injuries. You count at least five bullet wounds. You’re not making it out alive, that’s for sure. You grimace as you face the harsh truth. “You got to move! They’re closing in on you!” You can faintly hear Gaz’s voice ringing through your ear. You move through the pain, you have to at least try to make it back. You grit your teeth as you pull yourself up. You grab hold of the grappler again and start descending. You run as fast as you can away from the base. Shit, it burns. It burns badly. You just wish you didn’t have to sit through this pain for long. You make a safe distance away from the base. You rest against a tree. You definitely can’t make your way to the exfil point, at least not on your own. You slowly sink yourself to the floor. Your vision starts to blur, and gunshots get quieter and quieter. Either they stopped firing or you’re losing your hearing. You bet it’s the latter.

You start coughing. You’re coughing up blood. Internal bleeding. Great. As the pain starts fading into the background, your mind runs rampant. You lean your head back as you stare up at the sky. You chuckle weakly, “I’m sorry Simon.” You say to no one in particular. You just somehow wish that he could feel that you’re sorry. You know it hasn’t been easy for him either. And part of it is your fault. You’ve been pushing him away. Drowning in your own grief, that you failed to consider his feelings. Tears slowly start trickling down your face and into the muddy ground below you. “I’m so sorry Simon, I still love you, so so much.” You whisper out. Not having any strength anymore. You slowly close your eyes, losing the battle between you and the blood loss. Little did you know that your comms were still open and Gaz heard everything. If you can’t say it to him yourself then he will make sure he passes your message to Simon. In your stead. But first, he has to find you. He runs around, desperately trying to find you. Eventually, he spots a faint trail of blood. Knowing it has to be you, he follows it. Once he finds you he shouts your name. You being unresponsive worries him. He holds two fingers to your neck. Trying to find a pulse. To his relief, he finds one. It’s faint, but it’s there. He picks you up and carries you to the heli and demands for medics to be standing by at base, ready to receive you.

***

Simon heads to your room and knocks on your door, “(Y/n)? Can we talk?” It feels so weird to call you by your name. He used to always call you ‘lovie’. He frowns as he hears no answer. He’s about to knock on your door again until Johnny speaks up, “she’s gone.” Simon whips his head around to face him. “What do you mean she’s gone?” He asks. “She went on a mission that Price assigned her to.” Simon stares at him, “when is she supposed to be back?” Johnny checks his watch and frowns, “she was supposed to be back 15 minutes ago.” Simon frowns, a late arrival usually means bad news. He storms his way to Price’s office. “Why did you send her alone? Why didn’t you send me with her?!” He asks coldly. He sighs, “she can get in and out quickly, that’s why I asked her. And I did ask her, she said no. She said she’ll go solo. Gaz is with her to provide exfil.” Simon gives him a hard stare and leaves the office. He has no choice but to wait for you, and hope for the best.

Multiple minutes pass as he waits anxiously for you. Eventually, a commotion stirs him out of his zoned-out state. Several members of the medical staff run by in a frenzy. They’re shouting medical stuff at each other that he doesn’t understand. All he hears are, “critically injured inbound!”, “bring blood bags!”, and “prep for surgery!”. Suddenly everything goes in slow motion. ‘Critical, surgery, blood bags’ those are the words that are swirling through his chaotic mind. He closes his eyes and curses to himself. You can’t die. Not you. Anyone but you. He regrets many things in his life. But this will probably be at the top of his list if you don’t make it. Fuck. Why is he just standing here? Why can’t he do something useful for you, not even for one second? He has let you down continuously, and he hates it. He hears more commotion. It’s you being wheeled past him in a gurney with the same medical staff by your side, with a blood bag hanging over you, and more of them in the arms of a medic. He watches as you get wheeled into the infirmary. The state of you almost makes him gag. How the hell did you even get out of there alive? After being so long in the military, he knows someone with those injuries will not make it back, or stay alive for much longer. It’s a miracle you’re still breathing, no matter how weak it is, you’re still breathing.

He heads to the infirmary to wait for you. He wasn’t there for you during the mission, the least he could do is sit and wait for you. That if you’re alive after surgery, he could give you a heartfelt apology. Something that he rarely does. He sits in a chair and holds his head in his hands. A few minutes pass and he notices Gaz sitting next to him. He sighs, “what happened?” Knowing Gaz is the only one who can provide him with the answers. Gaz winces, “Ghost, I don’t think you want to know.” He feels growing frustrated with Gaz’s answers, “I fucking asked, didn’t I? Tell me, I want names.” Gaz sighs but resigns to his wishes, “it’s the same organization. She needed to get into an office to gather more intel. Turns out this whole thing was a trap. They were waiting for her outside the office door. One thing led to another and the whole base was sent upon her. I tried to give as much covering fire as I could. But she still got shot, multiple times. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, “not your fault, I should’ve been there,” he mumbles out. Gaz scoffs, “I don’t think it would’ve made a difference. There were way too many of them.” Simon gives him an empty look, “I would’ve gotten her out of that situation, at all costs.” Gaz shakes his head, “mate. I know how capable you are together but there’s no way you would’ve gotten out of there together in one piece.” He shrugs, “I never said I would get out of there, did I?” Gaz catches on to what he means, “are you saying you would lay down your life for her?” He nods, “she deserves to live more than I do.” Gaz can sense he doesn’t want to talk anymore so he drops it. Gaz eventually leaves, needing to debrief with the captain. Thus leaving Simon all alone.

Torturous hours pass by. He feels like her chances of surviving are dropping by the hour. Eventually, a trauma surgeon pops out of the double doors. He looks around before meeting Simon’s gaze. “Are you here for sergeant (Y/l/n)?” He nods, confirming his intentions. The surgeon drops his mask, showing Simon his grim face. “She’s alive, but she’s far from stable. We put her in an induced coma, to help her body recover from the injuries she sustained. It could last a couple of days up to weeks or several months. You may visit her if you wish. Try talking to her, it might stimulate her brain and thus make her wake faster.” Simon gives him a nod, “thank you.” The surgeon gives him a pitiful smile before leaving.

Simon enters the small room you’ve been put in. He frowns once he sees you lying on the bed. His breath gets caught up in his throat. He’s never seen you look so frail, fragile, weak, almost dead like. The only signs showing you’re still kicking are the monitor beeping and your chest moving up and down ever so slightly. He pulls up a chair next to your bed. He takes your hand in his. He has a million words to tell you. He wants to tell you how much he loves you, and how he took your love for granted. He wants to tell you how sorry he is, that he’s wrong for thinking breaking up would protect you. When in fact it’s the opposite. Every time he tries to convey these words to you, he can’t. The words get choked up, causing his sentence to become incoherent. So instead he opts for a simpler option, one that hopefully conveys all of his regrets in five words.

“I’m so sorry, for everything.”

The monitor beeps faster in response. He widens his eyes, you can hear him. He squeezes your hand. “I never should’ve let you go, lovie. It was a mistake on my part. When you wake up, I’ll take you to all of your favorite places. If you’ll have me back.”

During the next few days, it seems like you’re only regressing. Your body can’t keep up with all of the demands it needs to properly heal. Simon has been there, every hour, every day. The team has tried to drag him out to at least take a shower, but he refuses. Multiple what-ifs run through his mind. What if you wake up? And he isn’t there for you. Or what if you die? And he’s not there with you. It would break him. He’s not a fool, he knows your days are limited. He knows your chances of pulling through are close to none. So he stays there, talking to you and holding your hand. Squeezing it in intervals, to let you know he’s still there. He suddenly gets an idea in his head. What if he sings your song to you, would you appreciate that? Probably, he knows how much you love that song. So he sings.

“My mother said I’m too romantic. She said, “you’re dancing in the movies.””

“I almost started to believe her. Then I saw you and I knew.”

He starts tearing up, he might never hear you sing this song again. He might never hear your voice again. Your laughter, your giggles, your excitement. All of it. He might never hear them again.

“Maybe it’s ’cause I got a little bit older. Maybe it’s all that I’ve been through.”

“I’d like to think it’s how you lean on my shoulder. And how I see myself with you.”

He thinks of the domestic life you have behind the scenes. Away from the military. Where you would have movie marathons, forcing him to watch with you. He would pretend to hate it, but secretly. He adores the time spent with you. He thinks of all the times you would lean on him, no matter where you are. You would fall asleep on him, it’s the sense of safety that he gives you that puts you at ease. He starts choking up.

“I don’t say a word.”

“But still, you take my breath and steal the things I know.”

“There you go, saving me from out of the cold.”

He can’t continue anymore. His tears are not stopping, they continue to fall and get soaked up by his balaclava. He hasn’t cried in years, and yet here he is. Crying like a baby. He doesn’t want to let you go, but he knows it’s the right thing. If you’re not in pain then you will be when you wake up, if you wake up. He presses a kiss to your forehead as he cries. He pulls away and tries to compose himself, “it’s okay to let go if you’re hurting, lovie. I won’t be mad, I promise.” He notices that the beeping is slowing down. He gives a weak smile, even though you can’t see him. “I’ll love you forever and always, my love. Rest well, I’ll see you on the other side sometime. Hopefully, I get to properly apologize and take you around to all of the places you want to go.” He sobs as your heartbeat continues to slow until it ceases to beat. “I’ll be okay, lovie.” He whispers.

He was not okay. He was far from being okay. He thought that he’d be okay after your funeral, that he’d get the closure he was craving. It’s been weeks, and the pain is still there if not stronger. He can’t stand it. Sometimes his mind is playing tricks on him. Sometimes he can feel a cold air embracing him, as if you’re hugging him. Sometimes he can hear you say, ‘I love you.’ Or ‘I forgive you.’ He’s losing his mind, that is clear to anyone. His aim has been shakier, not as fast on his feet anymore. Fuck, he’s losing his touch.

Everyone is concerned, he sees the worried glances they throw in his direction. The way they avoid the topic of your death at all costs. He hates it, he hates how weak he’s become. He hates how they’re pitying him. One day he gets an idea. There’s a way for him to come see you sooner. Not a pretty one, but it’ll do. He dwells on it for the next few days. Not wanting to do anything rash. He has no family left that he gives a shit about. He only has the military going for him. But going at this rate, he’ll most likely get discharged because of his mental health. How he’s falling apart at the seams. Funny how he’s been alone for most of his life. Yet the instant something good enters his life it gets taken from him. He can’t function properly anymore after you died. Like taking candy from a baby.

Later in the evening. He skipped dinner, not bothering anymore. It’ll only be a waste on him. He writes a short note addressed to the 141. He explains that it’s not their fault. That he’ll be happier than if he stays here, without you. He places the note neatly on the corner of his desk. Knowing someone will come running once they hear the bang. He grabs the handheld gun he stores in his bedside drawer. He stares at the gun. Weapons have never felt heavy on his hand. Let alone handheld guns. Yet now it’s like the heaviest thing he’s ever lifted. He brings it up to his temple. He gets the easy way out, you had to suffer with at least five bullets in you. He closes his eyes and thinks of you. He smiles at the image he has painted in his head. A genuine smile, one that hasn’t appeared on his face in a long time. Again, he feels cold air engulfing him once again. He laughs, that has to be you comforting him. As you always do. He rests his finger on the trigger.

“I’ll see you in a minute, my love.”

He pulls on the trigger. In one second three things happen. A loud bang. Blood splattering. A thud.

One second he’s seeing black. Before he knows it, the next second he sees white. A figure slowly approaches him. He squints his eyes, trying to make out who that figure is. A smile creeps up his face once he realizes who it is. His lovie. You smile at him as you walk closer to him, “hi Simon.” Tears start welling up in his eyes. He says nothing as he pulls you into his strong embrace. You sigh but return the embrace, “it’s okay now, Simon. We have all of the time in the world.” He nods as tears start falling on your white clothes. You pull away as you chuckle. You wipe his tears away, “come. I’ll show you around. You’ll love it here, I promise. It’s so peaceful here.” You hold your hand out to him. He lets out a little laugh but nods and takes your hand in his, “okay. Show me, lovie.”

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #call of duty

[devildomwriter]

Their Favorite Christmas Songs

Lucifer (Anything on the nutcracker soundtrack)

Timeless classics like the nutcracker music is what Lucifer loves most. He knows each scene of the ballet by heart and when he hears the song he’ll tell you exactly what’s happening in that chord.

Mammon (12 days of Christmas)

It’s super easy to memorize and he likes to fantasize about getting so many gifts like that. It drives Lucifer mad.

Leviathan (Winter Bells)

Only the Detective Conan anime can have a Christmas song he loves so much. He’s heard every version and often has it on repeat.

Satan (Anything by the jingle cats)

The jingle cats was the greatness gift you could’ve given Satan and simultaneously everyone else’s nightmare. It’s an absolutely adorable rendition of each Christmas song with the words replaced by variations of adorable meows.

Asmodeus (Santa baby)

So relatable. All he wants is everything he deserves and a ring from you of course. He thinks the music is a little sultry and it makes him want to seduce you.

Beelzebub (Rudolph the red nose reindeer)

He’s so happy that poor little Rudolph is now happy with his friends. Mammon isn’t allowed to mention how messed up it actually is because no one wants to see Beelzebub saddened by it. Beelzebub also kind of relates to Rudolph. Back in the Celestial Realm he was often made of for nothing being able to control his powers until Lucifer saw his potential and helped him become someone equal to those who originally looked down on him.

Belphegor (I’ll be home for Christmas)

It’s nice and slow, a good song to relax to and dream of you. He can’t wait for you to visit for Christmas especially for him.

Solomon (We Three Kings)

Although biblically inaccurate because the king’s weren’t by Jesus’s side until much later, Solomon enjoys it because he was one of the many (not just three) kings in disguise and it reminds him of the good old days.

Thirteen (Jingle Bell Rock)

It’s nice and upbeat and makes her wanna dance although she won’t do so in front of everyone except maybe you but only if you’ll dance with her.

Simeon (Hark!)

A classic, it reminds him of earlier days in the Celestial Realm when he and all the brothers would sing glorious praise to his father. It also of course reminds him of the present in which he worships with Raphael, Michael and Luke and hopefully one day with you.

Luke (Silent Night)

He loves it. It’s nice and soft and easy for him to sing. He loves holy Christmas music of course and listens to it before bed every night.

Raphael (O Holy Night)

Raphael enjoys singing this song most, to himself and willingly to others. It reminds him of the night of his father’s miracle. He thinks it’s a lovely song humans made that so accurately describes his feelings.

Michael (God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen)

He loves this song most out of the song praising his father. He also chuckles to himself when he hears Satan’s name because he can just imagine Lucifer and Satan being annoyed about it. Plus any reminder of the brothers brings him some semblance of bittersweet memories.

Mephistopheles

None of them. He does not want anything to do with Christmas even the songs that curse it’s name. There are some more tolerable than others but the only ones he can slightly tolerate are winter themed and not Christmas specific.

Barbatos

Nothing in particular. He hears them so often because of Diavolo loves them. If he had to choose he’s pick something instrumental like nutcracker songs or Mannheim Steamroller.

Diavolo (Dominic the Donkey)

Listen this song cracks him up so bad you can hear his back-breaking laughter from the House of Lamentation. The song drowns out Diavolo’s worries and Lucifer and Barbatos’s distressed sighs and mumbles of complaint.

#obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me barbatos #obey me mephistopheles #obey me Michael #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me raphael #obey me solomon #obey me thirteen #obey me 25 days of christmas #25 days of obey me christmas

[bladiegfs]

hello!! ur theme is so cute omg <3 may i request blade’s s/o (can be gn!) spending more time with a cat they adopted and he got jealous and he decides to cling to his s/o 😭😭 sorry if this doesnt make sense wiendidnf

take ur time writing it 🫶🫶

thank u!!! don't worry anon it makes perfect sense in fact it feels like my third eye was opened the moment i saw this on my inbox

glue

➵ warning(s) applicable: none

➵ wc: 1.1k

➵ blade has found his new rival— it came in the form of a dark-furred animal with four paws and orange eyes. he eyes it as you coddle it and sing a song. …it’s decided. this has gone too far. it’s his turn to be cuddled and coddled now.

It was a mistake— no, this whole thing was a mistake.

At first, it seemed like a good idea to him. In fact, he was the one who got the idea— he knew you love cats. So did he; he found the little creatures interesting and maybe just a tad bit cute. But you, on the other hand… you frequently gushed (clutching your chest, cooing, everything) over cat videos.

Cat videos. On the screen. It’s not even the real thing right before your eyes yet you acted like this.

But he thought that the smile on your face was far too precious and that it would definitely make you happy to have a cat of your own or a ‘furbaby’, as Bronie calls it.

When he proposed the idea, you instantly nodded. Then, you reveal a sickening number of tabs open on your phone, all containing research about the best way to take care of cats. He recalls the time you were complaining about your phone moving so slowly; he was about to ask you how long literally hundreds of tabs have been open on it, but then you give him that beaming smile that he’s always (secretly) felt weak to, and the question gets thrown to oblivion.

And just a day after that, you two were home with a cute little bundle of joy (your words, not his) and you were smiling unstoppably. To him, the cat wasn’t anything particularly remarkable. However, its black fur paired with orange eyes has apparently intrigued you.

“What are you gonna name him?”

“Pepper,” You reply, looking down at the cat. “Isn’t it fitting?”

“Pepper? That’s more like a dog’s name to me.”

You only laugh as the cat peacefully curls up atop your lap, looking much like a bundle of darkness rather than joy. Blade’s spot, he thinks. That’s where he rests his head as he naps or simply absentmindedly scrolls through his phone, but he lets it pass— it’s good to let the cat become very accustomed to you. It shouldn’t be a challenge to get the cat to warm up to you; perhaps he was biased, but if you asked him, he’d say it’s very easy to like you.

Months pass and Blade does get proven right; Pepper has given his verdict as to who his favorite parent is and, predictably, it’s you. You and Pepper work in tandem half the time— whenever the cat isn’t asleep, anyway. Wherever you go, Pepper goes.

Now: Pepper did like Blade, yes, but the cat was attached to you to the point that you couldn’t even take a piss without it scratching at the door to be let in. And on the other hand, you’ve taken to affectionately calling Pepper your son.

And this son… is coming in between his parents.

You see, earlier this day, Blade had been minding his business. It’s a weekend, and he’s sitting in bed, watching a show. You were right beside him, leaning onto him as your eyes are cast on the screen before you. 

But after a while, before you two even knew it, watching turns into kissing.

“Ren…” You mutter against his lips as you lay below Blade. You were about to open your mouth to say something when suddenly, a walking nightmare on four legs slipped between Blade’s and your body.

And Pepper hisses at Blade.

“Aw, Pepper!” You turn to the cat, taking it in your arms. Blade parts from you, opting to lay beside you as you coo over your son, saying something about how he’s so adorable.

He watches as Pepper gets showered in kisses. “Aw, my cutesy, does Pepper want kisses too?”

Blade does, but that cat in your arms interrupted you two. He turns his eyes back to the television, slightly disgruntled. But once more, he lets it pass. After all, he did like Pepper too, even with all his kiss-stealing tendencies. Pepper was as much his… ‘son’ as much as it was yours.

He thinks that the cat must’ve sensed Blade’s somewhat lax behavior towards it; today, it’s really pushing its luck. 

Lunchtime? Pepper rubbed his head all over your legs until you decide to give him some of the food on your plate despite the fact that he already had his own lunch and finished it with much vigor. Oh, what about the afternoon? You spent it playing with Pepper until he fell asleep. Dinnertime? Same modus as lunch.

And now… well, now, as you sit in bed, Pepper laid on your lap as though it was his personal seat. You didn’t seem bothered about it, not even one bit— in fact, you hummed as you pet its head affectionately.

And Blade? He’s sitting right beside you, phone in hand as he side-eyes Pepper.

This has gone too far. Isn’t it his time to be coddled too?

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, making you lean towards him. You oblige with a smile on your face but eyes still on Pepper. With his actions, the cat turns its head toward Blade and he swears to everything holy that the cat definitely must be annoyed at him. The only thing missing is for it to hiss at him again.

Eyes narrowed and looking directly at Pepper, Blade presses a kiss against your temple.

The cat stares back at him.

His arm tightens around your shoulder and his free hand reaches for yours—

“Ren, you’re a lot more clingy today,” You comment, finally looking at Blade. Then, you notice the expression on his face. You follow his eyes and you find yourself looking right at your son.

You cannot help the laughter bubbling up your stomach. It was ridiculous to you; was Blade having a silent competition with Pepper?

At the sound of your laughter, Blade’s glare at Pepper finally breaks and he looks at you, asking, “What?”

“Nothing,” You answer, sparing Blade the shame of having to admit silently declaring rivalry with Pepper. “You want kisses?”

“...Why’re you talking to me like I’m Pepper?”

You repeat, ignoring Blade’s reply, “You want kisses?”

Silence. Then, “Yes.”

You take Pepper in your arms, lifting him from your lap. You then put Pepper down on the bed before you turn your body to Blade. Your eyes flicker from Blade’s eyes and to his lips, then you lean even closer to finally kiss him.

His arms wrap around your body, holding you closer. Even as you pull away, he doesn’t let go of you.

So your hunch was right. With a smile on your face, you play with his hair, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. “I’ll make it up to you, alright? I’ll cuddle you and sing for you too, so you don’t have to sulk anymore.”

Blade defensively answers, “Who said I was sulking?”

“Oh? Do you not want me to cu—”

“I didn’t say that,” Blade interrupts. Then, in a quieter voice, almost as if he’s embarrassed, “I wouldn’t be jealous because of a cat.”

“I didn’t say anything about Pepper, though?”

“...Damn it.”

#maddie's corner! #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x reader #! ballad

[englishotomegames]

I*CHU: Chibi Edition, a rhythm action / visual novel joseimuke idol game, will be released in English for the Nintendo Switch by PQube!

The game is currently set to release on Amazon on September 26th, 2024, but this date has not yet been confirmed.

"Guide 32 aspiring idols towards their ultimate debut. Play rhythm action games to unlock characters and create your own groups. Follow the characters’ journeys through the main story and support them through their struggles!

Visual Novel – As a teacher and producer, it’s your job to support the boys on their journey to becoming an idol. Explore their individual stories, and help them follow their dreams.

Endless Talent – 32 idols into nine separate groups! Different styles of music and performances, choose your favorite or love them all equally! Rhythm Action: Fast-paced and exciting rhythm action mechanics revolutionized for the Nintendo Switch, choose touchscreen or controller input!

Star Studded – Over 80 original songs featuring top Japanese voice actors. Experience their beautiful voices whilst you play to ensure your idols are putting on successful shows!

Gacha Without The Microtransactions – Successfully complete shows to unlock currency to scout idols. Choose your favorites from the line-up to create your own original group – all without spending a penny in microtransactions!

Increasing Difficulty – Are you a god at rhythm action or a newbie dipping your toes? From Normal, all the way up to Nightmare mode, prepare to challenge yourself!

Endless Talent

Your time as a producer has come! Aspiring idols need guidance on their journey to stardom and only you can provide it.

Created by a renowned talent agency, Etoile Vie School is a special academy designed to teach and train idols to be. 32 idols-in-training, also known as “I-Chu” have been chosen to attend this academy and are all working hard towards their major debut.

Explore These Unique Characters

Separated into stylistically different groups, each idol has their own individual aspirations and unique personality, but with challenging hurdles ahead they must find the right way to understand and get along with each other.

Guide the Idols to Stardom

Enter you! It’s your job as their teacher and producer, to guide these unique characters, through their struggles and stresses, helping them make music and resolve issues, to become the ultimate idols in the music industry!"

#i chu chibi edition #i*chu chibi edition #i chu #i*chu #idol #upcoming #trailer #joseimuke #pqube

[scienceandstorytelling]

I can’t stop thinking about Will Branner’s performance as Max Jägerman and how it leads to my favorite usage of the Nightmare Time leitmotif in all the Hatchetfield musicals (and why I voted for NPMD as having my favorite title number in the poll I made a while back).

Max is a well-written character who already gives me hints of a tragic villain vibe, and then Will’s performance just fleshes that out tenfold. It features the duality Starkid has been playing a lot with in this series, where you’re sympathetic towards a character while also acknowledging the terrible things they do. Max is horrible and abusive towards his classmates and has given them years of trauma. But a teenage boy does not become a Literal Monster in a vacuum.

Alongside his role as a bully, the script gives us images of Max as someone who is struggling academically and would have probably fallen through the cracks if adults didn’t idolize him for his football prowess so they can live vicariously through him as he beats the rival town in the big game. We find out that he has a shitty dad who verbally abuses him for not being macho enough. That he probably doesn’t have all the sex people say he does. That the people he bullies hate-pranking him in revenge is “the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for [him].” And then Will’s acting keeps showing us glimpses of this goofier side of Max, glimpses of the person he might have been if he wasn’t such a bully.

And for those few moments in the aftermath of the prank, you think maybe he’s going to change now that someone has shown him what he perceives to be kindness. And then he falls through the floor and that opportunity is lost. But unlike what Mayor Lauter implies, I would argue that his fate isn’t fully sealed when he dies in the Waylon House. I think the moment of no return is when he kills Richie while the leitmotif plays.

Lots of people ship Max and Richie and have headcanons that they used to be friends, and I think it’s because of the parallels between them in this song. Here we have two 18 year old boys who have both been failed by the adults around them. Both are harmed by being stereotyped. Both are in the liminal social role of being in the process of stepping out of childhood and into living their adult lives after high school. And both of them are denied those adult lives. And then they fucking sing about it. The “will you pray for me” duet is such a powerful part of the song for many reasons, and I think it’s the moment that shows us that Max is still in the process of committing to being nothing more than a vengeful spirit, or at the very least is in the last stage of that process. The thing that strikes me the most is that Max is simultaneously trying to make Richie feel insignificant and alone while also projecting his own feelings onto him. “Is this the eternal dark without a dawn?” he asks, reaching up to the sky and not looking at Richie at all.

And what fucks me up is that Max fails in this moment. Richie is not alone. He never was, and now he’s even less alone. Not only will Pete and Ruth mourn him, so will Max’s former friends. Its so notable to me that this takes place immediately after Go Go Nighthawks, where we’ve just seen everyone, including, again, Max’s “friends,” sing about how great it is that he’s gone. It’s a real Ebeneezer Scrooge moment that makes me wonder if Max has been silently haunting the school these weeks since his death and it’s only now, having watched that, that he tips over into full villain mode. Max is the one with no one to pray for him, not Richie. And Richie basically says as much, and Max kills him anyway. Richie was doomed from the start in the sense that the show literally opens with a flashforward to his death, but I think Max is doomed too. “Don’t need no one to tell me high school will be my peak,” he says in his own introductory song. I said before how they’re both on the cusp of living their whole adult lives, but I wonder if Max had trouble seeing himself that way. He already didn’t think he would amount to anything after high school. A lot of these “peaked in high school” football star characters spend their adult lives being metaphorically stuck in high school, in their teenage years, because they can’t let themselves move on from their glory days. And here Max is, literally stuck in his teenage years forever as a ghost - but not literally stuck in high school, as we see when he follows them all to the Witchwood. When he makes he grand ghostly return he says to Richie, “I’m free!” (Free from what, Max?) He certainly has the freedom of a ghost to go anywhere and do anything. And yet he traps himself in high school. He prevents himself from moving forward. And all of that is why it makes me emotional every time when he casts aside any last chance of not being the villain and strikes the first blow on Richie, these two teenagers failed by the adults and the structures around them, their fates locked together, while the leitmotif plays and takes us back to that original line from Alice’s corpse singing to Bill about how he should have been a better father: Look what happens, nightmare time.

#npmd #starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetfield series #nerdy prudes must die #max jagerman

[sundrop-writes]

Ghosting

Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Mike has been in love with you for as long as he can remember. For about as long as the two of you have been best friends. He always thought he would have more time to work up to confessing those big, dangerous feelings for you - until something more dangerous swooped in and stole any time he had left with you.

Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader. Star-Crossed Lovers. Pure Angst. Set during the events of the movie (and features spoilers for the plot).

Word Count: 3,700

Horror Characters Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this fic contains major spoilers for the film - so if you haven't watched it yet and you're just here for Josh Hutcherson being sad and beautiful (and if you want to watch the film unspoiled) be warned; this fic does use Y/N; this fic is almost pure angst - the beginning is fluffy, but that only exists to make the angst hurt more; this fic does not have a happy ending; hurt, no comfort; this fic has mentions of Mike's past traumas and him having symptoms of PTSD; the reader is a mother figure to Abby; Mike refers to the reader as his 'wife' (in his mind, not in dialogue); Mike is in love with the reader (and it's implied that she knows this/can sense his feelings) but he doesn't get a chance to actually confess to her and they aren't in a romantic relationship at any point during this fic; (uh, kind of spoiler for the fic but this was in the prompt/request) - major character death: the reader character dies after being stabbed by Springtrap/William Afton/The Yellow Rabbit (gotta love fnaf - when a character has that many names); mentions of blood; descriptions of violence - descriptions of the fight between Afton and Mike, descriptions of the reader being stabbed by Afton; Abby is there to witness the reader's death; idk what the other warnings are aside from major angst - this will be an emotional gut punch. Anyway, please enjoy it lmao.

A/N: The title of this fic comes from the song Ghosting by Mother Mother. I was listening to different songs trying to pick a title, and I really like how this one fits. How their romantic love was like a ghost in their lives - not discussed, but felt between the both of them, and after she's gone, she becomes a ghost in his life.

...

Mike woke up to the smell of pancakes. 

Typically, mornings were his least favorite time of day. Seeing as he was the kind of person who didn’t sleep well, didn’t sleep at all, or found himself consumed by nightmares when he did - most mornings, he was too tired to comprehend the world around him. Mornings were a chaotic mess for him as he tried to pull himself back from the brink of insanity while operating his sluggish body with far too little energy until he got some coffee into his system. He came to resent mornings, as for him, they existed only in a dreadful haze. 

And he rarely ate a proper breakfast because of it. Most of the time, his ‘breakfast’ consisted of a large cup of coffee and a few pieces of Eggo waffle that he would snag off of Abby’s plate going out the door as he scolded her for not finishing it all. 

The second that the pleasant smell of freshly cooked food reached his nose, his stomach growled. 

Through the sleepy fog of his brain, hearing voices - multiple voices - coming from down the hallway, he realized that it wasn’t just Abby and some muffled cartoon characters from the TV. 

“Which one?” Abby posed, her voice bright and curious as ever. 

“Personally… I like the red sweater. It matches the red laces in the shoes you picked,” You replied, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the sizzling of the pan. 

You were helping her pick out her clothes. Abby would have never wanted Mike’s help on the subject. So often she scoffed at him if he suggested that he could help her put her hair in a ponytail or if he told her that she should put on a jacket if it was cold outside. But she asked you for your advice about clothes because she admired you. She thought you were pretty, as she had told Mike on multiple occasions (not so subtly hinting that he should date you). 

Mike heard footsteps thundering down the hallway as Abby rushed to her room to get dressed, likely carting along the clothes you had helped to pick. He distantly wondered how you had gotten into the house before he was even awake. 

And then, he remembered - a few weeks ago, he had given you a key to his place. 

It was something that had come after he had accidentally locked his own set of keys in the car, his mind jumbled and forgetful after not having much sleep the night before. And with the evening ticking on and the takeout you had picked up for the three of you quickly getting cold in your hands (everyone eager to simply get into the house and eat) - Mike had been hit with the realization that any solutions to unlock the car - the spare key, a metal coat hanger, a phone to call a mechanic - were all locked in the house. 

So he had hoisted Abby in through her bedroom window (after scolding her for not locking it) and gotten her to unlock the front door. And shortly after that, he had given you a house key, because generally, you were better with things like that. 

You were much more organized - your mind a clear, calm palace compared to the chaos that Mike often found himself swamped in. You were someone who worked incredibly well under stress, and that was why Mike valued you so much in his life. Right from a childhood where the two of you had pulled pranks together and he had been copying your homework, to the time he had leaned on you during the initial stress of Garett’s disappearance - up until now. When he was a messy, disorganized adult who still needed you far more than he was ever willing to admit. 

It was just one of the many reasons he admired you so much. You took care of him in ways he couldn’t even put into words. 

He smiled to himself as he heard more of your chatter with Abby. Previously, he had remarked that the key was for ‘emergencies only’ - but he couldn’t bring himself to care all too much about the breach of that rule as he tumbled out of bed. Especially when the smell of bacon also reached his nose as he walked to the bathroom. 

It was when he was pulling on his pants that he glanced at the clock and realized he was already running on the late side. Not too late yet, but he had to put some urgency in his step. He had somehow forgotten to set his alarm, today of all days, when he would be meeting with a career counselor after the disastrous incident that got him fired from the mall. 

He rushed down the hallway struggling with his tie, bringing his usual air of chaos with him. His heart instantly warmed at the sight of you and Abby - you had her sitting at the table, somehow so much more polite and cooperative for you, with a glass of juice beside her plate while you scooped freshly made pancakes onto it. 

“You know, usually when most people break and enter, they don’t make breakfast,” Mike commented, his voice cool and jovial as he grew increasingly frustrated with his tie. 

He thought he was forming the knot correctly, but it kept falling loose in his hands, causing a deep crease across his brows as he frowned at the fabric. 

You giggled at this - both at his words and at his obvious struggle. You put the pan on the counter as you walked toward him, leaving Abby to pick up the bottle of syrup and begin thoroughly drowning her pancakes while you weren’t looking. You knocked Mike’s hands away in that wordless kind of care and began calmly tying his tie. 

“Well, I considered going the traditional route, but there’s nothing worth stealing here.” You remarked, playing off the banter that was only built between the two of you after years of friendship. “Plus, The Breakfast Burglar has such a nice ring to it.” 

“That makes it sound like you steal people’s breakfast.” Abby giggled. 

“I would, if certain little girls didn’t drown their pancakes in syrup.” You replied, not bothering to look over your shoulder at her to know what she was doing. “That’s enough, Abs.” 

She rolled her eyes harshly at this, but put the bottle of syrup down and picked up her knife and fork. 

Mike grinned widely at this. You were more like a mom to her than their own mother ever was. And the fact that you knew her so well and took care of her without question always brought him joy. 

His smile only widened when you smoothed a warm hand down the front of his chest, and he looked down to see a perfectly neat knot in the front of his tie. He felt a tingling swarm of butterflies in his stomach at your touch - something that threatened to spread through him and turn him into a dizzy, lovesick fool. Urgently, he needed to distract himself with something else. 

His eyes shifted over to the side table, and he realized that his keys weren’t where he usually threw them down when he got home. 

“Have you seen my-?” 

Once again, you were two steps ahead of him. More organized than him. 

“Keys.” You said, turning around to the counter and holding the key ring up on your fingers. “Your resume, formatted and printed.” You held up a folder that contained this as well. “Your wallet, and breakfast burrito.” 

You gathered up his wallet and a warm bundle wrapped in tinfoil - his breakfast. The small notion of caring, the fact that you thought ahead to make something he could eat while rushing out the door - it caused that dangerous tingle to overtake his stomach once again. As you crossed the room and placed all the items in his hands, he had the intense urge to lean over and kiss you - he knew the domesticity was crippling. 

You had been his best friend for years, you had helped him take care of Abby for as long as the little girl could remember. You felt more like a wife to him than anybody else ever would. 

And yet, you had absolutely no clue how he felt about you. It would have felt like the most natural thing in the world for him to lean over and kiss you goodbye before leaving - just like a husband would do with his wife. But the two of you weren’t married. You weren’t even dating. You took care of him because you were his best friend. Because you had always taken care of him the way a best friend should. 

“What would I do without you?” He said, knowing that the pure fondness in his voice could have easily given him away - if he didn’t talk to you like that all the time. 

“Hmm… probably run around naked and starving,” You chuckled, shrugging as you walked back over to Abby and sat down beside her at the table. “Now get going. I’ll take Abby to school.” 

“Have a good day, Abs.” Mike said, wishing his sister well - only to receive a mindless nod in reply before she went back to chatting with you about something, excitedly telling you a story involving one of her imaginary friends while you watched her with absolutely rapt attention. 

He moved toward the door, but he found himself caught up in the sight of you. You were a hero in their little world as you rushed to save one of Abby’s drawings from some syrup that dripped off her plate. When you complimented the picture, she glowed with a smile he hadn’t seen in days. 

That was a huge part of it, too. The love he felt for you that grew more agonizing each day. You brought out all the best parts of Abby, as well as keeping Mike himself from going truly insane. 

For a single moment, he wondered if he should tell you. He wondered if he should just blurt out the words before running out the door, leaving you to simmer in it. Giving you time to think about it - to yell at him about it later. 

It hovered on his tongue. 

I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years. 

But when you looked over and saw him still standing by the door, he locked eyes with you, and suddenly it was gone again, swallowed up inside of him like a nasty ache that would live there forever. 

“Go, Mike! You’re gonna be late!” You said, your voice edging with casual laughter. 

You picked up one of the couch cushions and swatted him with it as you walked by to get Abby a paper towel from the kitchen. 

No. He would tell you some other time. 

Perhaps he wouldn’t work up the courage to tell you at all. 

… 

He was going to die. He was going to be killed. 

And he wasn’t going to get the chance to tell you that he was in love with you. 

Strangely enough, that was the one thing Mike was thinking about as he laid on the cold, dirty floor of Freddy Fazbear’s condemned pizzeria. His stomach burned with searing pain as he received another kick from the large, intimidating monster that he knew only as the Yellow Rabbit. 

He was going to die. He wouldn’t get to tell you how he felt. He would never get to see you ever again. 

He was going to save Abby. He was going to make sure that she got out of here, escaped somehow. And you would take care of her. That thought was a singular comfort to him as he felt one of his ribs crack from the metal (poorly disguised by the foam and fabric around the edges of the suit) colliding with his torso.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The Rabbit mocked him. “I killed your brother, now I get to kill you. Symmetry, my friend!” 

“Get away from him!” 

Mike almost thought that the intense pain had caused him to hallucinate, or that he had hit his head on the floor hard when he had been thrown down - it couldn’t actually be you.

But he heard your voice, fierce and fiery as ever, defending him as you had so many times before. He struggled to get his head up to look, but he caught a glimpse of the Yellow Rabbit as the strange animal collapsed. 

You had picked up one of the chairs, and brought it down over the Rabbit’s head, perfectly imitating something that would have been on Monday Night Raw. Except this was pure wood, not a collapsing chair, and all the pieces that splintered and fell in front of Mike as the Rabbit collapsed were because of the pure force of your hit. The fury of which you defended him and his life. 

“Y/N!” Abby yelled your name from across the room. 

She rushed into your arms as you stepped over the Rabbit’s prone body, and you swept her into a tight hug. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s going on?” You rushed to ask, brushing her hair out of her face to inspect for any injuries. 

“I’m fine.” Abby told you. “Mike-” She then turned to her brother, frantic, and pulled away from you to fall to her knees by his side. 

“Mike, what the hell is going on?” You asked, on your knees at his side just as quickly. 

You turned him over on his back, inspecting him for injuries now - definitely not liking what you found. 

Abby held his hand and he grasped it right back, his head still dizzy from the thorough ass-kicking he had just experienced. 

You gasped when you saw blood leaking through his shirt. He grunted in pain when you pressed your hand into the wound, clearly trying to lessen that bleeding. 

“What - what are you doing here?” He croaked out. 

As much as he was thankful for you swooping in and saving him, he wished that you were safe somewhere else. Anywhere but here. 

“Abby left her jacket in my car, and when I went to return it, I saw your Aunt Jane passed out on the floor, and - and, I just had a bad feeling.” You rushed to explain. “Somehow, I figured you’d be here.” 

Mike hadn’t exactly told you the details of what was going on. 

As close as the two of you were, he wasn’t sure if you would be entirely receptive to the concept of Abby being ‘friends’ with robots that were controlled by ghost children, and Mike somehow feeling connected to his own missing… dead brother by being in this place. He had simply told you that his new job was a night shift at a creepy old abandoned pizza place. 

But of course, you were two steps ahead of him. As always. 

You pulled back your hand to inspect the bleeding, and Mike groaned again. 

“Should I call an ambulance?” You asked, and Mike shook his head furiously. 

“No, we have to-” 

We have to leave. You have to leave. You have to get Abby out of here, to safety. 

All of those words dissolved on his tongue as he watched with utter shock. He wanted to scream as a big yellow hand clasped onto your shoulder from behind, and soon, a pair of large rabbit ears rose up from the floor. 

He wasn’t down for the count. 

Before he could speak, before he could move, Mike’s throat became choked as he saw your expression shift from the kind concern that you had worn for him many times - to pain. A brutal shock of your own. 

The Rabbit had shoved his knife into your back. 

A bright pool of red began to form in the middle of your shirt as the tip of the knife just barely poked through the center of your chest. 

“No!” Mike shouted, rushing to sit up despite the pain screaming in his body. 

He put a shaking hand to the middle of your chest as though it mattered, as though he could save you from this. He hated how warm your blood felt underneath his fingers. 

Abby let out a scream beside him. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he felt a pang of guilt that she had to see this. That she would spend the rest of her life trying to get over this. 

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” The Rabbit mocked him. “It always hurts more when you love them!”  

The Rabbit let out a brutal laugh and then yanked his knife from your back, and you released a sharp breath as the Rabbit shoved you toward Mike, causing you to collapse into his lap in a bloody heap. 

Somewhere far away, in another world, Mike heard Vanessa shouting from the doorway. Maybe he felt some sense of relief, thinking she would shoot the Rabbit down and this would all be over. But as the Rabbit’s attention was drawn away from him, he turned to where you were draped across his lap, the small pool of red on your shirt now soaked into a large puddle as you sputtered and some of that harsh bright red blood came out the corner of your lips. 

“Mike-” You choked out, reaching for him. 

“Tell me what to do,” Mike choked out. 

His mind was miserably blank. He felt your fingers clutching at his bicep, like he held the key to saving you, like he could restore your life - but his mind was screaming and his chest collapsed in on itself. 

You were always the one that guided him. He didn’t have an idea if you didn’t plant it in his head first. 

“Y/N,” Abby sobbed. 

“It-it’s okay.” You told her, struggling, gurgling, choking on your own blood. You took your grip off Mike, extending the hand weakly to her, and she took it. “It’s g-gonna be okay.” 

She let out another harsh sob, and Mike felt his lungs fill with stone. 

“Tell me what to do,” He said desperately, not realizing how thick his own voice was, how close he was to breaking down. He ran a trembling hand over your face, brushing away some stray hairs - he hated how cold you felt to his touch. “Please, tell me what to do.” 

He thought you might suggest some first aid. An ambulance. Tell him where your car was so he could carry you there, cart you away, get you to safety. 

“You-re g-gonna take c-care of her-r.” You told him, shifting your eyes distinctly from him toward Abby, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re gon-na m-make it ok-ay.” 

“Y/N.” Abby cried, thick tears spilling down her cheeks. 

“Abby. You’re gonna b-be s-strong.” You grinned at her - your teeth were covered in blood, and it looked as menacing as it did fond. “You’re g-gonna be good for-r M-Mike, right? My little a-artist.” 

Abby nodded, more tears leaking from her eyes. 

And then, with some gears turning in her head, these words seemingly having triggered some line of thought, she looked up and spotted something across the room. She muttered something about the drawings and leapt up before Mike could stop her. He didn’t have the strength to chase her - he only hoped that she was leaving, escaping while the others were distracted. 

When he looked back down at you, your face was falling more limp, and your shirt was somehow even more soaked in blood. His jeans were wet, and he couldn’t even process why. He pressed a hand to the front of your shirt, trying to cover the wound as you had done with him - his muscles shook even harder when blood gushed out between his fingers and seemed to leak from you harder, as if to spite him. 

“Y/N,” He sobbed, leaning down. He cradled the back of your head and touched your forehead against his own. 

For a moment, he dreamed about putting his lips against your own and bringing you back to life with a kiss. Like some stupid fairytale. 

“Y/N, I-” 

I love you. 

“I - I know.” You croaked quietly, cutting him off. “D-don’t w-waste it on me now-w.” 

He felt the puff of your last breath as it expelled out against his cheek - he felt you go completely limp in his arms. 

“No-” He choked the word off in his throat, swallowing down sobs. 

No. 

He held you tighter against him, and feeling how cold you were, he let out a shuddering howl of a sob. He clasped your lifeless body against his chest - somehow believing that he could use the power of his grief to inject more life back into you. 

The rest of it was a blur. The deadly snap of springlocks, Vanessa shouting at him to abandon you - to abandon your body as the building collapsed in on itself. 

Mike didn’t truly break down until he was scrubbing his blood off your face in the bathroom sink that night. Seeing the red washing down the drain and knowing that it was the last traces of your life he was washing away - that was what truly did it. He collapsed onto the floor and stayed there for hours, sobbing more than he breathed, unable to move. 

When his cries finally died down, Abby slowly crept in and asked him how he was feeling. He lied, telling her that he was feeling fine. She raised up a shy hand, offering him one of your sweaters that you had accidentally left on their couch a few days prior. 

He thanked her and then finally peeled himself off the floor. He tried to make pancakes and Abby remarked that they weren’t as good as yours. It felt impossible, but her words made him smile. It was a small, dull smile - but it was a smile, nonetheless. 

A few days later, when he finally fell asleep for the first time after you had died in his arms, it was with that sweater wrapped around his pillow, wafting your faded smell into his nostrils. It was the first time in years that he didn’t dream about Garett. The dream he had about you was just as haunting.

...

A/N: Also, I don't know if Afton's knife would actually be long enough to go through someone's back and pierce out the front of their chest but - one, it's a cool imagery, and two, the knife looks pretty large when compared to the scale of the Springtrap suit hands. Anyway, I don't actually care all too much if it's accurate or not, I had fun writing this lmao.

#sundrop writes #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #blood tw #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie fanfiction

[beansmack2021]

Have you thought about doing "relationship sceanarios" for the hazbin characters? I've seen boyfriend/girlfriend sceanarios for fandoms on wattpad and quotev before, but that could be something that'd give you lots of different things to write 🙃

Relationship Scenarios

Alastor:

ROMANTIC

• Very sweet

• Calls you names like dearest, beloved, darling, love

• Would kill for you (and has)

• If you're hurt, he immediately sweeps you away and takes care of you himself

• Gets even redder in the face (if that's possible) if Angel gets a little too comfortable with you

• "Shoo, bug, before I squash you."

• Has ripped off a demon's arm for trying to grab your wrist on the street

• Lays awake at night, just listening to you breathe

• Knows you're a weakness, and tries to deny his feelings at first so he won't be putting you at risk, but can't push them back for any longer

• Vows to protect you for the rest of his time in hell instead

PLATONIC

• If you're younger than him, he becomes sort of like a father figure to you

• Wouldn't like letting you leave the hotel by yourself

• Won't ... gently... remind Husk of his deal in your presence (He doesn't want to subject you to seeing that)

• Hears your quiet cries and sniffles when you have nightmares and immediately comes to your bedside to comfort you

• "It's okay, little one. I'm here. Nothing can hurt you while I'm around."

• Gets nasty with anyone who even hints at you being anything less than the most important person in hell (You're the most important to him, at least)

• When you're hurt, he goes into protective dad mode

• Loses his absolute mind when he sees you crumple

• Believes you're the only person truly worthy of redemption, but doesn't want you to leave him

Husk:

ROMANTIC

• Always has your favorite drink ready for when you come to visit him at the bar

• Purrs when you're around, gets embarrassed

• Wishes he'd never made his deal with Alastor, if only so the two of you could live your afterlives freely together

• Gets angry when Alastor pulls him away if the two of you were together

• Doesn't express his love very often (he's not big into PDA) but when does, he's very genuine and sweet

PLATONIC:

• Keeps an eye on how many drinks you have a night

• Reminds you time and time again not to make deals with the Radio Demon. No matter what he could do for you, your soul isn't worth it.

• Showed you a magic trick once when you were upset to try and cheer you up

• Acts like he doesn't care, but he's a big softy.

• Has snacks that the hotel doesn't usually offer under the bar because he knows they're your favorite

• Hums songs that you sing because he can't get them out of his head

• You two occasionally dry glasses together in silence, just because you enjoy each other's presence

Sir Pentious:

ROMANTIC

• Cried when you accepted his offer to court you

• Gets annoyed when his egg boys follow you around on dates

• Welds gifts for you

• Tries to cook for you. Fails

PLATONIC

• Sometimes, you have to help him pull off some of the scales that he sheds

• Gives you a pair of old goggles because he realized that you liked his

• Asks you to fly around in his ship, teaches you how to fly it

Vox:

ROMANTIC

• Adores you, doesn't care about showing everyone on the Voxnet

• Makes sure you carry some piece of technology with you when you leave home, just in case something happens. He can get to you a lot faster if he can jump through screens. At the very least, he'd at least know where you are

• Hates Alastor, but is more worried about him doing something to you than their rivalry

• Always lets you choose what you're watching together

• Gets pissed at Valentino if he tries to make moves on you

PLATONIC

• You bought him glass cleaner as a gag gift once, only to find out you'd accidentally bought his favorite product for him

• You try to find his power button when you're mad at him

• Posts silly pictures of you. Sometimes they're cute, other times, he wants to embarrass you

• If his volume is too high when he yells, he apologizes immediately. He saw the way you'd flinch and felt awful for being the reason you'd been so nervous

Adam:

ROMANTIC

• Likes to take you out to eat. You guys live in heaven, you've got the best food you can find all around

• As much as he jokes about being the "dickmaster", he's very respectful and refrains from making jokes like that to you

• Takes you flying sometimes

• Wouldn't let you follow him into hell for extermination (you didn't need to see that)

PLATONIC

• Likes to knock out a few plates of ribs

• Suggests you two forming a band loads of times

• He makes a lot of jokes, but if they make you upset, he'll actually apologize

Lucifer:

ROMANTIC

• Worships the ground you walk on

• Kisses your hands

• Makes you a rubber ducky whenever you seem down (you have too many)

• Tries to bring you to the hotel whenever he visits Charlie

PLATONIC

• Tries to braid your hair, fails

• Thinks of you like another child

• Loudly screams he loves you from across the room, people mistake you for his lover

Angel Dust:

ROMANTIC

• The sex jokes stop when he's with you. He doesn't really care about that stuff, he cares about making the most of your time together

• You patch him up after a few rough shifts with Valentino

• He tries to become sober, if not for the hotel, then for you

• Doesn't want you to worry about him, no matter how bad he gets

PLATONIC

• Enjoys just sitting on the couch when it's the two of you

• Jokes about drugs, but would probably be disappointed if he found out you used

• Offers to put stuff on higher shelves for you

• Watches sad movies with you and cries (claims he doesn't)

Charlie:

ROMANTIC

• Loves hugs

• Will drag you outside to see the stars

• Probably cries about how beautiful you are

• Makes cards for you for every holiday

• Doesn't even breathe if you fall asleep on her shoulder

PLATONIC

• Brings you soup if you're sick

• Tries to help you grow some flowers, fails

• Helps you with your hair

• Is very sisterly

• Notices immediately when you're not in the mood for her optimism. Tones it down like 40 percent

Vaggie:

ROMANTIC

• Tries to stab Alastor for you

• You're the only person she trusts to help her trim her hair

• Steals your shirts

• When her wings come back, she takes you flying

• Tries to teach you how to use her spear

PLATONIC

• Tries to teach you Spanish

• Bandages your wounds after the extermination

• Has punched you out of instinct

• Loosens up just a little bit with you

• Tries to let her feelings out more

Rosie:

ROMANTIC

• Gives you the best part of her food every time

• Hums little tunes to you

• Eats people who make you angry

• Takes you shopping

PLATONIC

• Goes on walks through Cannibaltown with you

• Tries to get you to cut your hair like hers

• Kisses your cheeks in greeting

#hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfic #hazbin x reader #hazbin husk #alastor #x reader #hazbin #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin lucifer

[cammys-imagines24]

•Being in a Relationship with Ellie•

Ellie has such a softness in her which she reserves only for those closest to her, especially to you.

But after Joel's passing, she became more resigned and quiet. Gone were her days of childish wonder and talkative nature.

Though for you and only you, Ellie will always be the pun, space and dinosaur loving nerd.

You make her happy and when she's happy the weight of all that she's lost falls off her shoulders, if only temporarily.

You're her family now and she'll be damned if she doesn't cherish you and keep you safe.

You've become her sole reason for getting up in the morning, for surviving through each night of bad dreams.

Ellie often writes in her journal about you. How much you mean to her, lyrics to songs she's composed when just your very presence inspires her, little drawings of your profile or silhouette (which she scribbles down when you're not looking.)

Words she'll never be brave enough to say to you out loud, no matter how long you two have been in a relationship (and like hell she'll let you read her journal.)

So, Ellie relies upon actions instead to show how much you mean to her.

Her love language definitely being acts of service and physical touch.

Like whenever she's on a run or out on patrol she's always on the lookout for anything she thinks you might like.

Whether it's a comic or book you'd enjoy, or an article of clothing you've been talking about needing. Even funny trinkets or knickknacks she thinks you'll get a kick out of.

Those are going straight into her backpack and are taking precedence over even more practical, useful things she could be picking up.

Anything to make you smile or liven up your day is the most important thing to her.

Ellie will learn to play your favorite song on her guitar and will sing it whenever you need cheering up.

Since she's afraid of being alone, she has to be touching you always, in some small way or another.

Even when out in public her hand will find its way to the small of your back, or her pinkie will interlock with yours whenever you two are walking.

If you're out patrolling together, she'll want you two to share her horse, Shimmer, if only just so she can wrap her arms around your waist.

And don't even get me started on how clingy she is once you two are alone and she doesn't have to worry about the wandering eyes of the public.

If you two are having a quiet night in watching a movie, you're sitting on her lap, end of discussion.

If you dare to get up early before her, too bad. She's putting you in a vice grip, practically smothering you with her limbs and gentle kisses to make you stay.

You are the only person who grounds her and home to her is wherever you are.

Ellie often worries if she's strong enough to keep you safe and sound and alot of her nightmares include all the ways she could lose you, too.

You're the very air she breathes and your smile, your kiss, your laugh, is what keeps her heart beating.

And with just one look from her intense green eyed gaze, you can feel the warm love overflowing from her.

Come hell or high water, Ellie will do anything to keep you alive. No matter how dangerous.

Even if it leads to her getting blood on her hands, it is those very bloodied hands which will hold you so tenderly. For as long as you'll have her.

#the last of us #tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams imagines #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams headcanon #tlou x reader #tlou headcanons #tlou imagines #tlou fanfic

[solarmorrigan]

Eddie leaves the lights on for Steve.

The two of them are off schedule right now — Steve is stuck on late shifts and Eddie is working early mornings; more often than not Eddie is asleep by the time Steve stumbles in, but Eddie always leaves a light on.

He knows Steve’s least favorite part of working late (amid a myriad of perfectly good reasons to hate working late) is coming home to see the apartment quiet and dark. It reminds him a little too sharply of the years he spent in his parents’ empty house, feeling small and alone in a maze of cold, impersonal rooms, so Eddie gives him a little sign of life.

Sometimes it’s the hall light, illuminating Eddie’s keys and wallet on their rickety side table, where Steve’s join them in short order.

Sometimes it’s the kitchen light, showing Steve some kind of snack Eddie’s left out for him to inhale before bed (it’s never anything special, per se; nine times out of ten it’s just peanut butter and jelly, but it’s usually the first thing Steve will get to eat all evening and he doesn’t have to make it himself, so it’s actually the greatest thing in the world).

Sometimes the bathroom light is on, which quickly becomes Steve’s favorite because it’s often accompanied by little notes stuck to the mirror – colorful pieces of paper covered in doodles, or declaring Eddie’s over-the-top devotion in sleepy misspellings, or snatches of song lyrics (and once, memorably, Eddie’s “To Do” list for the next day, under the heading of which he’d only written Steve’s name; Steve had snorted so hard trying not to laugh that he may have actually damaged something).

Tonight, it’s the living room light. That one’s new.

And what Eddie’s left in the living room for Steve to find is, in fact, Eddie himself. He’s dressed in boxers and an old t-shirt, as if he’d been preparing to go to sleep but had instead planted himself on the sofa in front of the old movie playing on the TV. He’s made it to sleep anyway, though, snoring quietly with his head thrown back against the top of the couch.

Steve shuts off the TV and gives Eddie a gentle shake.

“Eddie. Hey,” he says, quiet but firm, “time for bed. Your back’s gonna kill you if you sleep like that, and then I’ll have to listen to you bitch about it all day tomorrow.”

Eddie puts up a little resistance, frowning and shifting away from the shaking of Steve’s hand on his shoulder, but once he finally wakes and blinks away the bleariness, he smiles as his eyes land on Steve.

“Hello,” he murmurs.

“Hey.” Steve can’t help but laugh a little, even as he’s cupping a warm hand around the back of Eddie’s neck with the beginnings of worry expanding in his chest. “What are you doing up?”

The drowsy smile remains firmly on Eddie’s face, and he pushes through any of Steve’s concerns about nightmares or aching scars playing up by reaching up to cradle Steve’s jaw in his palms. “Just wanted to see your pretty face,” he says, just the right side of smarmy. “And here it is.”

He leans in for a kiss that Steve returns with warm enthusiasm, but which is ended too soon by a jaw-cracking yawn from Eddie. Steve shakes his head, standing from the couch and pulling Eddie up with him.

“Seriously, though, what are you doing out here? You have to work tomorrow.”

Eddie shrugs. “Just thought I’d wait up for you. Figured it’d be nice to come home to, or some shit.”

“Oh.”

It’s all Steve can think of saying, really, because – well, no one’s ever done that before. No one has ever waited up for him, has ever altered their schedule just to welcome him home, has ever done so much just to remind him that he isn’t alone.

“Should I… not have done that?” Eddie asks, and Steve realizes that he’s been quiet, unresponsive, for a moment too long. “Because if it’s weird or something, then–”

Steve swoops in for another kiss, stealing the rest of Eddie’s anxious words and swallowing them down, pressing his gratitude and his love into the shape of Eddie’s mouth.

“Thank you,” Steve breathes when they pull apart.

“Yeah. No problem,” Eddie says, his voice soft and not at all as casual as he’s probably aiming for.

“I love seeing you when I come home– even if you are out cold on the couch,” Steve teases.

“Okay, falling asleep was not part of the plan,” Eddie breaks off with a yawn. “God, what time is it, anyway?”

Steve glances at the VCR, but he’s too tired to get his eyes to focus well enough to read the time. He takes a stab at guessing. “11:30, I think?”

“Oh god,” Eddie groans, dropping his head against Steve’s shoulder. “Not even fucking midnight. I’m old, Steve.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve pries Eddie away and turns him so he can chivy him down the hall towards the bedroom.

“Just sell me to the glue factory now, get it over with,” Eddie continues, and Steve laughs.

“But if I do that, no one will be around to leave the lights on for me.”

Heaving an enormous sigh, Eddie flops down on the bed. “I guess.”

Steve effectively hides his laughter by stripping his work shirt up and over his head. “I mean, if it’s not too much trouble,” he says.

“For you?” Eddie asks, watching as Steve tosses his shirt towards the hamper and sets to work on his pants. “Nah. Never.”

There’s a sleepy sort of sincerity in Eddie’s gaze when Steve looks back up at him, something raw and real and warm, that makes Steve unable to doubt him, even for a moment.

Something that promises the lights will always be on when Steve needs them.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddiesteve #steve is a dyed in the wool romantic and goes crazy for little gestures #eddie loves to oblige but occasionally worries about just how sincere he's being #will I ever write something that isn't directionless fluff? #probably not <3 #solar wrote

[plutoswritingplanet]

White Rabbit pt.2 (Peter Ballard x Female!Reader)

PART 1

a/n: first of all, i am so fucking sorry it took so long. life kept kicking me over the head, like i was a damn football. but, i’m here now.  Started writing it....had a breakdown... bon appetit

Warnings: NON-CON, a lot of threatening, Possessive Behavior, Explicit Sexual Content (oh, you know guys, the usual)

Summary: As you keep getting stalked by the visions sent by Vecna, one moment of peace gets cruelly interrupted. 

One pill makes you larger.

There is no way in hell you'll be able to listen to this song again, after this whole ordeal is over. It's already becoming quite annoying, your brain seeking other means of stimulation every time you are forced to rewind the tape. It was your favorite song, of course, but you had so many different ones. You missed Jimi Hendrix, you were not going to lie.

The base continues to repetitively resound throughout your brain, mixing with the ever-present ticking of a grandfather's clock. Sometimes, you can almost make out the familiar shape, the white face with beautiful, ornate numbers. It emerges between the paneling of Max's camper, resurfaces from the drying patches of grass, when you look out the window. Every single sighting, a reminder of your shameful encounter from days before.

Arguably, Max went through her curse in a much more agreeable state than you. The little ginger kept her headphones on dutifully, giving you an annoyed glance, when you took a bit too long to put on yours. Guilt squeezed the insides of your stomach in vice-like grip, whenever she looked at you with this unreadable expression of hers. Like she could read your scrunched eyebrows, deduce the whole story from the way you bit your lip whenever the monster's name was mentioned. She knew something was wrong, of that you were certain. And despite all that, despite the shame consuming your insides, you still wanted nothing more, than to hold the child's hand, to tell her everything was going to turn out fine. Even if you didn't believe a word from that sentiment.

There was a plan forming. A very half-assed plan, that had nearly as many holes, as Swiss cheese. But it was the best you lot had, and after hearing Nancy's prophetic visions, you knew, there was little time for thinking. When you first heard that Vecna, One, Henry, whatever his name was, had imprisoned Nancy in the Upside Down, had shown her nightmares beyond comprehension, your blood ran cold. What did she see, what did he show her? Did she know about your little altercation in her bathroom? Hopefully not. You couldn't stand the thought of your friend knowing about your momentary lapse of strong will.

- He only has one kill left - Dustin says gravely, his hand squeezing your wrist.

You can't look at him. Can't stand seeing your brother worry so much, especially since you are supposed to be the one looking after him. Perhaps Vecna was right, perhaps you really did fail him. You shudder under the oppressing thought, squeezing your eyes shut, so no one can see your pained expression. Despite all that, the feeling of his eyes burning holes into your face makes you twist your palm. You give his smaller hand a hard squeeze, one, that hopefully conveyed just how much he doesn't have to worry about you. Even if you can always hear the sound of the clock just below the music. Even if Vecna keeps sending you visions of spiders crawling over your friends shoulders, little reminders, that after all, you are completely and utterly alone.

Your eyes drift towards Max. She stands straight as an arrow, staring with unseeing eyes, a deep scowl on her face. Your heart nearly wrenches itself out of your chest. This poor fucking kid.

You'd never tell this to Dustin, or anyone else, to be frank. But when Vecna inevitably attacks again, you wish he'd go after you. Max doesn't deserve this, any of this, and despite knowing that you're not ready to die, you'd give yourself over in the blink of an eye, to save her. To save any of the kids. You've watched them grow, alongside your brother, and you'd be damned if you didn't consider every single one of them family.

You've taught Dustin how to ride a bike, your daily lessons quickly gaining an audience of his three friends. Not only that, but you made them sandwiches, when they started hanging out for hours on end, becoming the cool sister. One, that smuggled them sweets and soda, when their parents worried about potential rotten teeth.

Which is why you raise your hand immediately, when the subject of a trap entered the room. You needed to keep Vecna occupied, keep him in one place while others got to his lair. So, the most logical answer would be, to give yourself over. Serving yourself on a silver platter, and praying it gives everyone enough time.

Max leaves the camper, the moment the decision is made. She can't look at you. To be quite honest, not one person from the group can hold your gaze. The pity painted on their faces is making you squirm. It's a small price to pay for stopping the end of the world, and there were quite a few ideas already brewing in your mind.

You wonder how much you can really push your luck.

He did say, he wanted to keep you, savor the guilt or whatever the fuck he enjoys tasting these days. You'd be lying, if the prospect of using this newfound connection to the monster didn't fill you with a sense of anticipation. The memory of his tormenting touches both painful and arousing. What do the people call it? The Call of The Void? You've read about it sometime ago, during one of your weekly raids conducted on the local library. It is a phrase used to describe an unexplainable impulse to hurl yourself into the void, be it height, or, in your case, the life-ending embrace of a monster.

The hot summer air hits your face, as you exit Max's camper. The whole team wearing determined expressions on their faces, the plan slowly rolling into action. You fell behind the group, lost in thought, a deep scowl painting your features as you mulled over all the possible outcomes. None of them were without gigantic risks, and you dreaded for the safety of your friends. Max had explained to you her idea, how to keep Vecna at bay, how to hide from him inside your own mind. Since then, you kept mulling over any happy memories you could find. Prom night, your sixteenth birthday, the day the group first introduced you to Eleven. Images flash behind your eyes, as White Rabbit slowly comes to an end. The grass under your feet is starting to become yellow from the unreleting sun.

That's when a gentle hand on your wrist catches your attention, snapping you back to reality from the confines of your daydreaming. Gentle, brown eyes peer at you from under a cheap rendition of a Michael Myers mask. One of his slender hands drags the rubber up, so the man can look at you properly. Curse him and his dimples, you think, as Eddie Munson smiles at you. There's worry painted across his face, as his eyes swipe all over you, taking in your expression like this is the first time you've seen each other.

- Hey - he says in a hushed whisper, and you can't help but smile at his casual tone.

You can feel his rings drag the material of your shirt, when he rubs his hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. Never, not once in all the years you knew about, or heard about Eddie Munson, did you notice the way his eyes reflected rays of sunshine. It is truly a shame your brother didn't bother to introduce you before all hell broke loose. At the same time, maybe it was for the better. Your mother would surely develop a heart disease from all the stress, after seeing her children hang around a man such as Eddie. Light catches on one of his rings, and you are cruelly reminded, that time does not, in fact, stay still, no matter how much you wish it to.

- Hey - you answer, cheeks already forming a blush, to your inner despair.

- You okay? You look kind of... not...here - his hands move, when he speaks, even when he tries to be subtle.

To that, you smile, a shaky one, but a smile nonetheless. A chuckle escapes you, one, that startles you in its sincerity. Eddie smiles as well, cheeks coming up to frame his beautiful, dark eyes.

- Yeah, well, being the bait will do that to you - you attempt to joke, even if the words leave a bitter taste on your tongue.

You can clearly see a shadow of concern flash across his face, as his hand squeezes your shoulder a bit tighter. He's one of those people, who wear their emotions clear as day. There's no guessing about what he's feeling, and you appreciate that. From all the new and terrifying things barging into your life, Eddie proves to be the least confusing.

- I wish I could tell you everything will be alright - he sighs, eyes leaving your face in favor of dancing across the space between the two of you.

- You don't have to, really - you assure him, one hand coming up to rest atop his, giving his slender fingers a soft squeeze, hopefully conveying everything your words cannot.

His face stretches out in a smile, eyes sparkling with that gentle expression you've come to anticipate. And then, you blink.

And when you open your eyes, there's no Eddie.

Instead of his familiar frame, your eyes fall onto a stained-glass rose, floating into the red sky, right in front of your face. You scream, stumble back, until your foot catches onto some sort of root, and you fall backwards. Your body collides with the wet surface underneath, something rotten immediately seeping into the fabric of your clothes, red substance splashing across your shoes. The sight wrenches a gag from your throat. The air is thick and unpleasant, residue clings to your skin, invading your eyes and nose. You cough into a balled fist, and shudder at the unpleasant, tearing feeling in your larynx. Then, just as you're about to take a shaky breath, something wraps itself around your throat.

Before you can even think of screaming, your oxygen gets cut off, and you are forcibly yanked up, to your feet. As much as you struggle and wail, you cannot contort your head back enough, to see, what is holding you captive. It feels raw and fleshy on your skin, and if you focus hard enough, you can almost distinguish four, sharp fingers along with a thumb, squeezing down. Your legs kick out, as you begin to feel lightheaded, and just as the corners of your vision begin to fade to black, the hold loosens. The gasping breath you take feels like razors going down your throat. You take it anyway, despite the pain, tears springing in your eyes.

- So troublesome - you hear a terrifyingly familiar voice, words muttered into the crown of your head, lips moving in your hair.

Fear, like living ice, climbs up your entire body, when the realization as to where exactly you ended up in, falls on you like an avalanche. There's various debris flying around you. Pieces of wooden structures, gigantic, warped remains of cement, smaller rubble falling from the sky. Pieces of a home, you realize, as you begin to recognize wooden columns, a set of ornate stairs, windows. Out in the red space, a familiar grandfather's clock begins to spin, slowly, like it has all the time in the world.

- Let me go - you mutter, brain beginning to slow down, some sort of confounding fog coming over your senses, one, which you refuse to associate with desire.

There's a chuckle, clawed fingers flex around your neck, sharp nails retracting. Soon, there's no memory of a monster holding you captive, and if you look down, you can see a blurred image of a familiar white shirt. He's back to playing pretend, or so it seemed. You'd be lying, if you said you weren't grateful for that small change. It helped to keep your mind from breaking, well, from breaking completely. You want to scream, to tear your body away from this creature, which has caused nothing except blood and suffering. But as you boil on the inside, there's a pressure at your back. A warmth of a body being pressed against yours.

Another hand finds its purchase around your waist, fingers dragging across your shirt, toying with the hem, but never quite catching your skin.

- You know - he starts in a light voice, goosebumps erupting all across your skin from the feeling of his breath fanning over the back of your neck - I never liked sharing.

There's an edge to his deep rumble, one, that makes you open your eyes and hold your body taunt as a string. But he's breathing. My God, he really is breathing. Which means, either he learned how to pretend to be human, even more convincingly... Or he was real, tangible, not some figment of your corrupted mind.

- My mother, my stupid, pathetic mother, used to make me share all my toys with my sister. All my childhood I've never had anything, that was truly mine.

At the word "mine" his head dips down behind you, nose burying deep into the juncture between your shoulder and your neck. You shudder yet again, as he takes a long whiff of air, before letting out a nearly sinful groan. It shakes the very bones inside of you, and your body immediately reacts, a familiar pressure of arousal seizing your lower stomach.

- Which is why - he continues after composing himself, voice still slightly rough - I do not enjoy my things being taken away from me, even for a second.

There's a pregnant pause between the two of you, and you realize, he's waiting for you to say something.

Your brain scrambles for any response to this vague sentiment he has presented you with. Taken away? You weren't taken away in any way, shape or form. He let you go, quite literally. So, you stand, eyes still searching for any means of escape, as you feel him move against your back, like a restless snake. His head comes to rest upon your shoulder, and you know he's looking at your face. His eyes bear into you, drilling holes into your cheek, as if he's trying to see your teeth through your skin. He probably can. This is his domain after all.

- I don't know what you're talking about - you seethe through your teeth, testing your strength against his grip.

Another chuckle, but this one sounds too cold, too humorless, and with a gasp, you feel his hand leave your throat, fingers immediately digging into your hair and grabbing a handful. Then, he spins you around, like a ragdoll, until you are forced to look him in the eye. The beautiful, blue eyes, ones, which holds a cruel glint of sinister pleasure at the sight of your contorted face.

- Do you think I'm stupid? - he asks, all gentleness leaving his voice, and for a split second, you can see his image flicker, giving you a glimpse of the monster he truly was.

The gasp you let out is drowned by a wet, disgusting sound, as his hands throw you back, causing you to land on your backside. The floor welcomes you just like it did moments before, with this weird, unnatural substance coating your clothes, your skin, your hair. Before you can even think of finding your bearings, the man bends down. His movements elegant and effortless, as he climbs over your body. One hand on your knee pushes your legs apart, until he can sit between them comfortably.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, when he drags his eyes through the length of your body, before captivating you in that cold gaze of his. There's no escape from his eyes, and the pure evil lurking within. Evil, and something else. Something, he can read from your own face as easily, as one would read the alphabet.

- Please - you breath out, although you're not sure what you're begging for.

His delicate lips stretch out into a knowing smile. But there's no kindness in his expression, and before you can register this familiar, sinister glint in his baby-blue eyes, his hand grips your throat yet again. This time, his muscles twitch, and you gasp, as your head gets pushed to the ground. Liquid seeps into your hair, dyeing it the color of rust. The force of the impact shakes the very brain inside of your skull, and as specs of white dance around your vision, you try your best to focus on his features.

He leans in, keeping his gaze fixed on your disoriented face, until you can feel the illusion of a breath tickle your temple. Then, you fight to surpress a moan, when he drags his teeth over your earlobe.

- I told you, I will destroy all your friends, everyone you love - he whispers cruel words in the most tender of tones.

Your blood runs cold, and he pins you to the ground, as your body tenses up.

- And, because you force my hand, I will make sure Edward Munson suffers the most.

Panic, bloodcurdling and sudden like a shockwave, ripples through your entire body. Suddenly, you realize why you're here. Because you smiled at him, because you entertained the notion of exploring further relationship... Because you knew you were chosen by the monster, and you still wanted the hero.

- No - your voice is weak, and so is your body, as you start to struggle under his lithe form.

- Oh yes - the monster leans back, to look at your face, a beautiful, radiant smile painting his features - Yes, because it will hurt you. Yes, because I want to see your heartbreak. I want you to understand, without a doubt, that there is only one person in all of the universe you belong to.

Tears start to pool at the corners of your eyes, pain and regret twisting your features. Eddie's face worms itself into your mind, beautiful, brown eyes hollowed and bloody, jaw unnaturally bent.

- And that person - Vecna's image shifts, as rage shakes his stature atop yours - Is me.

Nothing could prepare you for the kiss he has wrenched out of you. His lips soft and unrelenting, as they descended upon yours, like a thunder from the sky. Teeth clink against yours, when he demands access to your mouth, one, you're determined to withhold. That's when his free hand grips your jaw in a vice grip, fingers pressing into your gums, until you are forced to open your mouth. He's quick to fill it, wet tongue immediately searching every crevice it can reach.

Despite it's cruelty, your back arches into the kiss, body writhing underneath him. Your eyes remain tightly screwed shut, as you let the monster take it's fill of you. Hand twists your hair, adding even more pressure at your scalp, and soon you start to worry he'll rip out a chunk of your locks. His other hand is restless as well, traveling the expanse of your stomach, worming itself under the cotton fabric of your shirt.

The feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh of your breast is familiar. Reminiscent of your previous encounter in the bathroom, although much more terrifying.

Because now, you know this isn't just a game you're playing with the monster on your own.You've dragged another, innocent person along with you, straight into the void. Tears preak the corners of your eyes at the mere thought, of what Vecna has in store for your hero.

- Tell me... - his melodic voice brings you back to reality, eyes snapping open, as you gasp for air.

He looks as unaffected as ever, his illusion of a face just a breath away from yours. You marvel at how realistic it looks, at the way you can see the texture of his skin. The way his flawless cheeks now carry a shade of pink so pretty, you almost forget what he is.

- Tell me... - he repeats, softer this time, his palm sliding from under your shirt, in favor of finding one of your hands.

He brings your arm closer to him, leaning away so he can press a kiss right at your wrist. Your eyes flutter at the gesture, and shame mixes with desire in your gut. He has no right, being what he is, and still doing what he does to you.

- Tell me... - a whisper, lips ghosting over the underside of your forearm.

- When he touches you - your body goes rigid, but he doesn't deter, a ghost of a kiss in the hook of your elbow - Do you feel safe from me?

Your eyes lock, blue encasing yours like the deepest parts of the ocean, dragging you down, and down, towards the darkest of hells. You feel so stupid now. Just another idiot girl, thinking she can outrun unstoppable evil. Thinking, she can find a safehaven in some oblivious boy she barely knew.

But there's still some fight left in your bones, and as his head dips below to bite at your shoulder, you strike. Bending your arm at a speed you're quite surprised you possess. Your fingers find purchase against some fleshy vine creation. It twists in your grasp, a living organism of it's own, despite coming out of his body. Without much of a thought, you pull, fast and ruthless, until the vine pops free. Hot, dark liquid covers your hand, sticking to your skin in a disgusting coat.

The reaction is instantaneous.

Vecna snarls, his body flinging itself off of yours, as he grips the side of his neck. The illusion is gone. What once was a beautiful, angelic man, now is an aglamation of vines and leathery skin. You don't wait any longer, scrambling to your feet. Sneakers you've picked up at a garage sale years ago nearly fall off of your feet, as you throw yourself into a sprint. Muscles scream at you, from under your skin. They've never been used quite as intensely as this, and you know full-well, you won't be able to keep this tempo up for long.

There isn't really any place to run, your mind being completely infected by this vision of a red wasteland. Staying here would be a death sentence however, so, you choose an unfamiliar line of trees, somewhere in the distance. Perhaps, you could hide inside the forest. Wait out, until your friends find a way to help you. Because they will find a way. They aways do.

All your hopes are snuffed away in an instant. You make marely a couple of steps towards your supposed freedom, when a hand grabs at the back of your shirt. Stitches tear, as your body is flung in the air, landing with a sickening splatter right at the bottom of the lonesome, wooden stairs. Every bone in your body hurts, adrenaline making your muscles shake so much, you can't support your weight enough, to push yourself up.

Vecna descends upon you, a wicked snarl twisting his monstrous features. Your head starts to pound, images of the monster and the angelic boy flicker, mixing together right in front of your eyes. You don't know, what you're looking at. You don't know, which face you punch with all your might.

Henry Creel falls onto the floor, as your foot kicks out, hitting him right in the stomach. Vecna gathers himself up, and pounces on you again, as you try to crawl up the stairs. Then, it's Henry again, putting his hand around your neck in a gesture so familiar, it doesn't shock you anymore. Vecna glitches through, as you show your teeth, like a wild animal, that fights as hard as it can, before being put into a cage.

- Get the fuck off me - your voice is raw, breathless, as Henry's human form finally stabilizes for good.

Blonde locks fall in front of his eyes, framing his face in a way you've never seen before. There is wildness and rage in his gaze, one, you mirror with a feverish look of your own. Then, time stops, for only a second. Your breaths mix together, lips so close, you can almost feel them biting into your skin. There's anger brewing under your skin, a writhing, ugly feeling, much like his true form. But there is also desire, newly awakened by this short chase.

- Remember this - he whispers into the space between the two of you, and your eyebrows shoot up in confusion - I am going to ruin you completely.

He doesn't kiss you on the lips this time. Instead, his head dives down, immediatelly attacking your neck, teeth scraping that one place, where he can see your pulse run rampant. With a loud moan, you let go, finally giving yourself up. Jumping into the Void with arms wide open, ready to embrace the nothingness. Henry doesn't waste time, his hands drag your shirt upwards, your arms nearly dislocating, as he forcefully tears the fabric from your body. And you let him, your skin growing hungry for his touch with every second.

Then, comes the time for your pants. You slide down two steps, when this monster of a man fights with the damp fabric. Finally, he frees your legs, throwing the offending piece of garment somewhere into the red void.

The wooden steps dig painfully into your legs and your back. Your head bumps into the edge of the railing, and you pray your injuries don't transfer to the real world. If you ever make it out of here. Henry's body writhes between your open legs, as he unbuttons his white pants. Somehow, his attire remains unaffected by the grime of the surroundings. Your brain is too focused on him, on his fingers tearing into your flesh, to remember, that his current form is an illusion.

It certainly doesn't feel like an illusion, when he yanks your underwear to the side, and enters you in a swift movement of his hips. Your back arches from the steps, legs flailing, as you struggle to accommodate his size. While your first encounter in Nancy Wheeler's bathroom was all about teasing you, this feels more urgent, like there's truly some grand shadow of a time running out, hanging over you both.

Nails dig into the wood of the stairs, scraping the laquered coating. You don't know what to do with your hands, with any of your limbs for the matter. Because no matter where you put them, Henry immediately pistons into your with such force, your body shakes. And, what is perhaps the most terrifying thought of all, it feels good.

The way he pounds into you with reckless abandon, the way his hand comes up to grip your hair. His other hand holds tightly onto the wooden railing, muscles working overtime under the white fabric of his shirt. His head burries itself into the crook of your neck, where he pants, groans and whimpers, every sound sending delicious shivers all across your insides. This is you, this is all your doing. Your head falls back at the realization.

The pressure building at a fast pace in your lower stomach makes you buck your hips up, to meet Henry halfway, to take him in deeper.

- Tell me, who do you belong to? - he seethes into your ear, twisting your hair. - Say it's me, only me, who can make you feel this way.

You hate him so much, it shakes you to your very core. But, his thrusts slow down just enough, to make you whine at the loss of stimulation. You were so close, climbing towards your release with each bruising move of his hips.

- Say you're mine - he grits out, looking at you with those baby-blue eyes of his, so cruel and animalistic.

It's just words, after all. Just words, and you were so close.

- I'm yours - you don't recognize your voice, it sounds so far away - I'm your and it's only you, who can make me feel this way.

He seems satisfied, capturing your lips in a biting kiss.

One move is all it takes, a single, brutal thrust of his hips, and you're unraveling. Muscles spasm all at once, and the sound that wrenches itself out of your raw throat can only be described as a howl of a wild animal. He finishes not far behind, his hips stuttering, before finally, he lets out a strangled groan. His arm gives out, falling from the railing to the floor, and the weight of his body feels surprisingly grounding, as you try not to pass out from all the feelings overtaking you.

- Damn you - he whispers, hand grazing your cheek in a manner that could be considered romantic.

"No, damn you" you want to say, but can't find the strength to.

And as you both lay there, squeezed into the corner of the wooden steps, you blink again.

And when your eyes open, all you can see, are beautiful, brown eyes, looking at you with such concern and kindness, your heart breaks.

- Guys, she woke up! - Eddie screams, not once looking away from your face. - You completely lost conciousness back there. Gone! Poof!

His hands are warm on your shoulders, so gentle, so caring. And in that moment, as you look at him with pained expression, painted with guilt and fear of what will befall him, all you can do is break down and start crying.

...

Taglist

@justtryingtobecreative @shellbeerocks @potato-dragons @sad-innit @lhsthinkr @z4hr4inhere @m1ndbrand @guyinachair27 @7minutes-tomidnight @rand0m--fangirl @universallycloudkid @fate-huntress @queenofthehellfireclub @ulilililiu @sam28637 @thedoubleexposurephotography @hercherrysong @cc13723things @queenofshinigamis @lokistyxx @darkened-writer @alexiaryder @lauftivy @axxochiisstuff @gayqueen420 @angelicadiabolus @julietsecretdiary @miliewayne @4ud13nc3 

#peter ballard x reader #henry creel x reader #my writing #stranger things #vecna x reader #001 x reader #peter ballard #henry creel #tw:dark fic