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steddie-thirst · 2 years

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You Can Run | Mean!Steddie x Henderson!Reader | 18+ |

Summary: Steve and Eddie can agree on one thing an that's you. Things heat up when they decide to work together in achieving their goal.

Warnings: stalking, killing, 18+, ghostface, micheal, kidnapping, explicit themes, steddie being a good duo, ghostface calls, Stalker!eddie, Mean!Steve

(( Update note: Because I no longer like writing Y/N for the name thing, I have decided to name my reader Belle, but this still an x reader, but the name Belle is used in place.))

After the rather odd phone call and a quick breath of fresh air it was time for bed. That was enough excitement for one day, already finding school tiring enough. Adding creepy stalkers to the list was not helping. However, when you reached the first step the phone rang once more. Darn - You turned on your heels and pad back into the kitchen snatching the device off its stand. "Hello? Henderson, residence."

"Well, Hello -- Again." Same cadence, still altered, and much more excited than last time, judging by the small hitch in his breath.

You decide to play along into the mystery caller's game, tilting your head as you keep up with the sweet tone. "Ooh , so you do remember me." You coo into the receiver voice thick like honey.

He chuckles, "Mhm." His voice hums. "Couldn't forget a pretty voice like yours." Enjoying the way it left a surge of chills down your spine.

"You remember all the girls you talk to, huh?" Questioning him earns another breathy laugh, making you bite your bottom lip. He surely knew how to work a girl - Goodness.

"No, just the ones I plan on asking out." The stranger replied and you giggled. "What? You don't let guys ask you out?"

"Not recently. Have had my eye on this one guy though." Shamefully admitting your deepest and darkest secrets seemed harmless. He didn't know you or you him. So what was the danger? A little honest flirting and some sweet words wouldn't be that much of a bother.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm, but he's not so into me I think." He clicks his tongue and you sigh with a slump of your shoulders.

"Wanna tell me his name, sweetheart?" He urges, practically on the edge of his seat, awaiting your answer. Maybe things would take a turn for the better.

"Eddie. He's just such a nice guy and -- and he's helped my brother so much - God - Then there's Steve. I sound like such a whore, b-but I really like them both." You stammer now really unsure of who to choose. One the one hand Eddie was funny, chivalrous, and kind hearted. The total opposite of the sweet, lively, and popular Steve. Two sides on one coin, but couldn't make of whether you wanted heads or tails. It was crazy, laughing at the uncertainty of it all.

"Well, Belle, seems you have a big choice ahead of you." As the words leave him sure of the reaction he'd receive. You fall silent instantly as his name falls from his lips.

"W-Wait - My name - How'd you know my name?" Things had taken a turn for the worse at this point and he chuckles, dark, and unforgiving.

"Because, sweetheart-" He lowers his voice, goosebumps spreading on your arms, as he speaks, "- I've been watching you this whole time. Now, if I was you I'd find a place to hide." You slam the phone down onto the stand and straighten your spine. Eyeing both kitchen entrances' slowly, gulping down the lump of fear that sat in your throat. Lip quivering as you bravely round the counter towards the left doorway. Briefly glancing at the pantry door when a muffled sound, unidentifiable, but loud enough to keep you worried. Keeping your hand rested on the counter as you slowly pad past the door.

The living-room was a quick shot from the kitchen, only having to make it past there in order to reach your front porch. As soon as you walked through that doorway a figure burst from the pantry. You whirl around a scream ripping through your throat, lungs burning from the sheer force of it. Immediately taking off towards the front door as the ghostly stranger chases after you.

"Shit! Shit!" You curse dodging the coffee table, only for him to step on top the surface and jump down on you. Tackling you down to the ground carpet biting into your back, bare legs and arms. You try to crawl away from him, but to no use. Suddenly gaining a brief moment of courage, you rear your leg back and kick him straight between his legs. The stranger falls back groaning in pain the knife clattering to the floor as he recovers from the sheer pain. You push up off the ground despite the weakness crying out from your overworked joints and run to the door.

Fingers working the locks, before flinging the door open. Only to be met face to face with a white mask, blue jumpsuit, and a large butcher knife. You quickly spin on your heels to run the other direction, but are cut off by Ghostface. Backing up into the other figure who quickly grabs ahold of you. One arm wrapped securely around your waist and the other over your chest. His muscles tensed holding you in place as the blade pressed ever so gently against your cheek. Your fingers dig into his arm clawing and pleading to be let go.

"Thank you, she would have gotten away." The ghostly stranger groaned reaching down to retrieve the lost hunting knife and sighed as he straightens back up. Revealing in the quiet sobs the racked through you. His voice - It sounded so familiar.

"W-Who are you?"

"Who am I?" He waves the knife around dramatically dropping his shoulders as you watch every move he makes. "You wanna go first big boy?" Ghostface steps closer to the brooding figure that had you restrained only receiving a grunt in response. "Guess that's a ye-Excuse me -- And viola!" He pulls the mask off and you crane your head back to eye the - not so stranger - as his hazel irises stare back down at your shaking figure.

Your heart shatters as his name passes your lips, "S-Steve..?" There's no mistaken that floppy chestnut-brown hair and those soft lips.

"Surprise!" Ghostface sings with a dramatic wave of his hands.

"Steve, why?" You whine, looking back at a guy you once trusted. Having delved into your most deepest secrets knowing he'd be there to listen and lend a hand. It just doesn't make any sense. Why would such a guy chose to do this and to someone who you'd been nothing short of nice to. Steve was your friend and deepest crush.

"Aww, she's scared." Ghostface coos watching your breath catch in your throat as you turn to look back at him. Steve laughs from behind you, chest vibrating against your back and he sighs.

"I know, it's addicting. I cannot wait to see how she reacts to you, baby." Steve speaks softly from behind you. Ghostface tilts his head watching you carefully, before reaching a gloved hand to pull back his hood, then removing his mask allowing it to clatter to the floor. Your whole body goes week as your eyes fall on those familiar features. Steve hauls you up against him, keeping you from falling down. Dark curls, a cheeky smile, and soft brown eyes.

"Surprise, sweetheart. Not what you expected huh?" His voice is cocky as he swaggers over to you. His hand raises the knife to your other cheek, licking his lips as he eyes you.

"E-Eddie?" Your bravado falters. To close to be a dream seeing as he was standing right there in front of you. His lips quirk into a sly smirk, as he takes in a deep breath, eyes looking you over.

"Say my name again, princess." Eddie demands pressing the curve of the blade deeper.

"E-Eddie plea-"

"Ah." He chides pressing it deeper earning a pitiful sob. "Again." He demands eyes flitting up to spare a glance at Steve. His lips twitching into a smile as you practically shake beneath them.

"Eddie, please stop.. you're scaring m-"

"Good." He growls at you, trailing the tip of the blade down the curve of your jaw, along your neckline, enjoying the way your throat bobs against his knife. Oh, you were a fucking prize. "I've been thinking day and night about you, Belle." He admits eyeing the dips of your breasts, hidden behind your pink tank-top. "Then you went and admitted your little crush - Fuck - I almost jumped on you then."

"Please don't kill me." You plead with Eddie small drops of salty tears drip down your cheeks, eyes glassy with them as you look up at the guitarist. He wasn't the same anymore. Those once bright eyes now filled with something dark.

"We aren't going to kill you, baby." Steve reassures you going to tuck his knife away knowing Eddie still had a grip on his own if you tried anything. You were a bit relieved, but it dropped. Heart dropping down to your stomach as Eddie spoke again face dangerously close to yours.

"We're gonna keep you. Steve." The larger male lifted you off the ground and slung your small figure over his shoulder albeit effortlessly. A cry leaves your lips as your hands come down on his shoulder blades, "She's feisty." Eddie chuckles, watching you struggle, squirm, and fight against Steve as he drags you out the door on his shoulder. One arm tucked over the curve of your knees and the other on the small of her back.

Eddie's pride flies out the window when you open your mouth, "Help me! Somebo-" He clamps his palm over your parted lips and a quiet whimper leaves you, hands clawing at his wrist as his nails dig into the skin of your cheeks.

"Shut the fuck up or I will hurt you, sweetheart." He threatens. "Got it?" You nod and he sighs relieved moving his hand away, only to brush his knuckle over your reddened cheeks. Only able to let out pitiful sobs and soft whimpers, "Good girl. You'll learn soon enough."

"You belong to us now." Steve chimed in as they reach his car, Eddie eagerly flinging open the trunk and he dumps you inside.

"Both of us." He shuts the trunk with a slam and you burst out into a full sob, crying out, but muffled by the layered metal of the BMW. No one heard you nor would help be coming. Eddie and Steve had you in their grasp and they were never going to let you got.

Not now.

Not ever...

TAGLIST:

@yaspillz @st-ls @munsonloverblog @off-phelia @strangerthingsstories5255 @fujiihime @shyposttree @damon-loves-pie @fanficfanatic204 @positivevibesnlif3 @beebslebobs @seratoninsickness @k0urti @thatlonelypieceoftoast @marianita195 @b-barnes04 @phantomxoxo @wittlewowa @buchanansbaby @rollergirlworld @allithewriter @555stargirl555

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chloesimaginationthings · 5 months

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FNAF movie Vanessa and Michael Afton fight their Dads

#myart #chloesimagination #five nights at freddy's #comic #vanessa fnaf #vanessa afton #michael afton #springtrap #william afton #steve raglan #fnaf #fnaf movie #sister location #fnaf 3 #fnaf fanart #The Afton eldest kids are angry #and honestly I support them in destroying their dads into dust #I think it’s their right to defeat them

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jovuuu · 5 months

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Fnaf x Red flags because why not

#michael fnaf #michael schmidt #fnaf william afton #william afton fanart #william afton #william afton fnaf #steve raglan #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy’s fanart #five nights at freddy’s #fnaf edit #fnaf #fnaf fanart #spring bonnie #springtrap #springtrap fanart #purple guy #matthew lillard

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 6 months

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FNAF Freddy Five Bears Textpost Meme

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filmesbrazil · 7 months

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#the office #michael scott #steve carell

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inhonoredglory · 9 months

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Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality

Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.

I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.

Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,

We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.

I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.

Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)

That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.

Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.

But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.

And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.

I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)

But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.

Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).

Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.

(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)

At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.

“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.

Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.

Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.

But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.

Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)

Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.

Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”

____

In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.

Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.

Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.

And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.

And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #it's kinda like capt america: civil war #with Azi as Tony Stark: traumatized and trying to do the right thing #and Crowley being Steve Rogers: fuck the establishment let's go rogue #gos2spoilers #good omens meta #good omens 2 meta #go s2 #michael sheen #go s2 meta #go meta #*mine #*mymeta #ineffables husbands #ineffable soulmates #*mybest

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strawhbrrries · 6 months

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Love and Lust

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary:

warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, oral (m receiving), creampie??, female pronouns, whiny mike, whiny reader, switch!mike??, teasing, overstim, hair pulling, nipple pinching, not proofread, porn with no plot

word count: 1.3k words

author’s note: this isn't as needy n whiny as I originally hoped so I hope you guys can forgive me!!! please send requests for what you'd like to see next! very dedicated to @mfdxz because queen has been WAITING for this one

“Please.” He whined in your ear, licking and sucking at any of the skin on your neck that he could reach. “I need you, now.”

“I’m trying, I can’t get your stupid belt unbuckled.” You whined back, sitting up from your position on top of him to try and see the belt buckle better.

“Baby, I am going to cum in my pants if you don’t hurry up.” He relaxed his head against the pillows that lined the headboard, chest rising rapidly as he tried to regulate his breathing.

On normal days when Abby was home you tried to avoid doing anything sexual, but the second Mike had gotten home the atmosphere shifted. He came up behind you in the kitchen, pressing your ass against the hard-on raging in his jeans, trying to slide his hand under the waistband of your sweats. His fingers made it as far as touching your clit before Abby stumbled in asking for more dinner, a small groan only loud enough for the two of you came out.

The clink of the buckle hitting the floor dissipated any frustration you had, your fingers immediately unzipped his jeans and threw them off somewhere on the floor. Today was one of the few days he’d chosen to go commando, both of you were now appreciating this.

You went back to straddling his waist, grinding down against his cock, your wetness causing your underwear to conform to your folds as you slid his cock between them. His breath hitched at the feeling, he turned his head to the side in an attempt to cover his mouth.

“Fuck, baby..” Mike groaned, thrusting his hips upwards in an attempt to create more friction.

“Feel good, Mikey?” You teased, moving down his body to sit in between his legs.

“Baby..” Is all he could muster in response, anything else was lost the second you put the tip of his cock in your mouth.

The feeling of him in your mouth, hard and leaking from the need to fuck you, caused a moan to vibrate around him. He tried to close his legs at the feeling, you hadn’t even done anything and yet it was all too much already. Your hands pushed them back open, taking his cock as far as it could go, your nose was pressing against his pubic bone. You hollowed your cheeks as you pulled off of him, using your tongue to swirl around it as you went.

You climbed back up his body, straddling his waist yet again, and placing your lips against his. The kiss was needy and messy, strings of saliva connecting your chins together. His fingers found your hair, entangling themselves at the base and pulling your head back. He needed you, and he was tired of letting you have that control.

“I said, I needed you, now.” He grunted, nipping at your exposed collarbone.

Mike lifted your shirt and threw it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor, latching onto one of your nipples and rolling the other in between his fingers. You threw your head back at the sensation, trying to hold yourself up against him in an attempt to keep control. Any ounce of control that you had left disappeared when your hair was yanked backwards, causing a loud whimper to leave your mouth and Mike to slap a hand over it.

The sound of Abby shuffling around in her room stopped the two of you in your tracks, the soft padding of her footsteps passed by the bedroom door. You exchanged a look, it was past her bedtime, and he was off to go check on her. Nights when Abby left her room after her initial bedtime meant she’d be more likely to leave more times throughout the night, sometimes she just wasn’t tired and sometimes she just couldn’t sleep, it’s how she worked.

You heard the two of them exchanging muffled words quickly followed by their footsteps back into her room. To save time, in the chance Abby did leave her room again, you threw your underwear into the pile on the floor.

“She needed water.” He mumbled, closing the door and locking it behind him, throwing off the sweats he’d put on in a hurry.

The bed dipped as he climbed up you, kissing his way up your body. His fingers slid between your folds, collecting your wetness and bringing the fingers to your mouth. He tapped your lips, an indicator that he wanted you to open your mouth, and slid his fingers in when you opened them.

“How do you taste, sweet girl? Let me taste.” Mike removed his fingers from your mouth and leaned closer to kiss you, swirling his tongue around yours. “Fuuuck.”

Two fingers swirled at your entrance, pushing in slightly as his other hand covered your mouth just in case. He curled his fingers, brushing against the soft, spongy spot inside of you. Your body jerked against him, whining against his hand.

“Shhh, I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He whispered in your ear, a low groan following behind it as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock.

The stretch was wonderful, stinging slightly at the lack of prep but an oh so delicious sting. A small whine escaped his throat, hips stuttering slightly at the feeling of your warm cunt stretching around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to keep himself quiet and to stop himself from cumming so soon. There was just something about having to be quiet and the dire need to fuck you into the mattress was sending him into a spiral, his eyes were just as glazed over as yours were.

His hips thrusted in and out, fingers fumbling around your chest as he searched for your nipples. You brought your hands to your mouth, despite most of your moans and whines getting caught in your throat every time his hips pushed back in, the chance of being caught bringing an overwhelming sense of excitement.

“Baby, fuuck…baby.” Mike moaned, splaying one hand on your stomach and bringing the other to his mouth.

He was holding on by a thread, orgasm threatening to spill all over your insides with every thrust, he’d been waiting for this all day and now that it was finally here he couldn’t even hold on.

“I need to cum..” He whined, leaning over so your knees were against your chest and his mouth was by your ear.

“Inside..” You managed to choke out, keeping one hand on your mouth and digging the other into the skin of his bicep, small moon shaped indents appearing.

After you finished your one word sentence he painted your insides with a low groan, sweaty forehead laying itself in the crook of your neck as he continued to thrust in and out. The over-stimulation was too much but he was determined to get you off, he slithered a hand between your bodies. He drew figure eights over your clit as he continued his thrusting, sucking and licking at the skin of your neck.

“Mikey…Mikey..” Your words were breathy and almost inaudible, all you could think, hear, smell, taste was just Mike.

He was overwhelming your senses in the best way and all you wanted was to live in this blissful state forever, full of him. One more thrust had your mind reeling, body shaking, sharp white pleasure searing through your veins as your orgasm ripped through you. He slapped another hand over your mouth, continuing his thrusts to help work you through your orgasm.

“Mike? What are you doing to her?” Abby asked innocently, standing at the open door that didn’t latch when he thought he locked it.

#maddies fics #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson imagine #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson #fnaf 2023 #steve raglan #five nights at freddys movie #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #fnaf mike #mike schmidt fnaf #michael schmidt #fnaf smut #fnaf #five nights at freddys

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