#something about her face really captures that style too

[yandere-sins]

A yandere with a darling who is kinda worse than they are but are still into it.....I don't know how unhinged you'd have to be for the yan to be like "Are you ok? Like if you need to talk about it I've put listening devices in the vents but still..."

I didn't want this to go into compliant darling territory or the darling being the yandere for someone else (though I did laugh a lot at the idea of telling the darling that the vents are bugged just in case they need it lol that's a good one). But this somewhat brought me a kind of different idea which you probably didn't intend, but I hope you like it all the same!

Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Descriptive acts of murder, stabbing, punching other people, breaking bones, getting bloody, a lot of blood actually, burying bodies), Sexual Content (Mentioning of non-con, dub-con, taking advantage, doing it in the blood of victims and next to dead bodies), Mentioning of drugs, Mentioning of knives, Patient/Doctor relationships, Murderer/Admirerer relationships, Reader is a serial killer, Yandere captures people for reader to kill, Yandere is also mad but so is reader, Reader doubts yandere's reasons for liking them, Reader is genderneutral but gets lifted into a bridal-style at the end, I once again didn't compile these warnings while writing and editing so I might miss some, sorry :(, Mentioning of wanting to throw up, Reader doesn't actually want to get better, it was different but really fun to write, Long post?, I feel like there are more warnings... but I can't remember anymore, if you made it this far and still want to read it, I hope you enjoy it!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Click

You sighed, holding your head in your hands, arms squeezed between your torso and legs. Your head was throbbing with the headache of the century. One you hadn't had in a long time... like five days. 

"You're a fucking dick, you know that?"

Groaning, you heard your own voice echo through your dizzy brain, nausea building as you felt like you were on a ship, everything moving unsteadily around you. The blinding lights flooding the off-white room didn't help soothe the feeling either, and your whole body kept tensing up, readying itself to throw up. You tried deep breaths, but they barely did anything. Not like they ever did something. You were too far gone for that.

"I did what was necessary," his voice rang out through the speaker in the top left corner, accompanied by the screeching of technical issues. You whined loudly, tearing your hair out as your head felt like it would burst. "My bad," he added, turning down the volume.

"What was it this time? Double the dose, triple? Must you keep drugging me? Some doctor you are..."

"I tried something new," he admitted, a cheeky grin in his voice. 

"Worked great..." you slurred, listening to him chuckle. 

For a while, you gave in to the need to collapse, putting your arm over your eyes to escape the lights while you thought about the last few things you could remember. Therapy was going well... at least that's what you were told. But the nurses—ugh. That one bitch.

"She did it on purpose," you mumbled, hearing the softest of agreement through the speaker. You knew that if it wasn't against regulation, he'd be sitting next to you, brushing your hair out of the way while you'd tell him your woes. He was that kind of sicko. A doctor, yet fascinated with you, his patient. Even though he merely sat behind the cameras, watching you, you could hear the sickening affection he held for only his favorite patient in every one of his words. 

In a way, he wasn't that different from you.

"You beat her up real good, smashed her face in. Got yourself into a frenzy and just tore open all your stitches from your last fight while you were at it, you really..."

He sighed. He was disappointed. Upset. This was a significant setback for him, too, after all. 

"She called me too stupid to ever recover properly and I was trying this time, really! How else should I have reacted?"

"You could have told me."

"And you would have dealt with her how?"

A brief chuckle rang out before he replied, although, had you been less delirious, you wouldn't have needed to ask. You knew what he did to people who behaved poorly with you. "I would have taken care of her, as always. You know you have my unending support."

You couldn't help a smile creeping over your face, the memory of burying the last nurse who bothered you in the asylum's cemetary resurfacing. Digging out the grave had been hard work, but you had to agree with him that the physical labor did wonders to soothe your ever-agitated mind. 

"You're terrible," you mumbled, unable to hide your smile.

"Ah! There it is! Look at those little dimples! I'm glad my services are appreciated by my darling. I was hoping to take you out on a rendevous once the dust settles. Maybe we can do that sooner than I expected."

"Who'd want that, you sicko."

Groaning, you finally sat up, looking down at the cushioned floor while you adjusted to being awake. Standing took a few attempts; the cushions aligned along the wall, not actually graspable, even if they looked like it. Everything about the solitary cell was so safe, it made you feel helpless. But eventually you managed to get to your wobbly feet, sighing in exhaustion once you stood.

"There you go, breaking my heart," he sighed, and you shook your head with a laugh, knowing he didn't mean it. 

"No straight jacket this time?" you asked, raising your arms and, for the first time since you awoke, realizing your movements were unrestraint.

"You weren't in a condition to restrain you. I prioritized your healing over that awful jacket."

"You just don't like it because it does nothing for my figure."

Again, you heard the grin in his voice as he said, "Busted. You're too cute to walk around constrained. Even though I love how crazy you look with it."

"Sicko..." you mumbled, your nickname for your doctor, endearing only in his ears. 

Your limbs were terribly heavy as you moved them towards the door. Part of you wanted to collapse on the ground again; simply pass out where you were. But knowing him, he'd definitely use the opportunity to take advantage of you, especially now that he could get a video of it. 

You didn't always mind what your doctor did to you. In a way, he was helpful even if everything you two did was against any laws in this country. If anyone knew what you two were getting into when no one was looking, you'd both be put down like rabid dogs. But that's just how you two were—feral.

The sicko kept telling you how he'd get you back on track. How he'd "fix" you just enough so you could go home with him. There was no way you'd consider living with him if you ever did get out. Still, he liked to paint the picture whenever he crawled into your bed while on night duty, hugging you and telling you about his ideas. You told him often enough that, given the chance, you'd kill him outside the safety of this institution, but so far... you hadn't.

You had enough chances, enough people he let you murder, watching you while you did it and helping you to hide the bodies once you were satisfied, but you never once turned the knife on him. Maybe it was because of his studies; perhaps he knew more about you than you about yourself. Or it was because he was just as insane. Fucking your patient in the blood of their victims was definitely not normal, even you knew that. So what other reason could he have for it except insanity? 

"Earth to my darling, I repeat: Are you thirsty?"

You felt the heat spread over your face as you felt called out by his question, almost as if he was reading your mind. It wasn't like you two were lovers. There was no chance in hell you'd get together with someone like him—or anyone for that matter. You didn't want the burden of someone clinging to you while you did your dirty work.

But the sex after releasing all your pent-up anger? Out of this world. 

Perhaps his doctorate was in fucking instead of psychiatry, but he knew how to work every part of his body. And he knew just how to get you in the mood, too. An explosive combination, mixing his lust with your madness.

That didn't change much about your feelings for him, though. 

"I'm not," you muttered, trying to hide your face, which probably showed the embarrassment you felt, thinking of the last romp you two had. You tried the deep breaths again, but the thoughts kept popping back into your mind. Must be the drugs, you thought.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course!" 

His excitement was loud and clear as it rang through the microphone, and you weren't sure if you should smile at it or sneer. For some reason, you both held each other in a tight grip, unable to be separated, yet most likely toxic for each other. But he still got excited over any kind of interest you had in him and you about all the things he did so you could live out your best life—even though you were locked away for a reason. 

"Why me?" you asked, standing in front of the door, not looking up. Even if he was just the voice behind a camera at the moment, somehow, this question left a bad taste in your mouth. You didn't want him to see the conflict on your face; didn't want him to know that you were doubting how deserving you were of his favor. It wasn't insecurity, wasn't a need for reassurance, but how could anyone look at you and think, "That's the one!"? You killed people, went into violent rages, and weren't considered safe enough to be reintegrated into society, probably ever again. There was nothing you had to show for yourself. Nothing that could justify the feeling of adoration your own therapist held for you. Especially not he. He should have been one of the good ones. And you weren't. It made no sense to you why he'd behave like he did.

"Why you what?"

"Why do you like me so much? I mean, come on! I mean, look at us! We're batshit crazy! This isn't some romance movie on television, we're actually doing bad shit, and yet you keep shielding me, doing me favors, telling me you love me. I'm sure there are others out there who you can fix and fuck if you like. It's not like..."

Biting your own tongue, you wondered if it was the new drug combo he tried on you that made you feel especially irritated with his feelings that day. You let him do all this stuff to and with you, but now you were getting weirded out by it? It wasn't like you to get so worked up over him; you were more of the cool type, spitting-in-his-face-type if he pissed you off. You didn't even want to validate his feelings for you, but also... being self-aware enough to know you were a danger to humankind, you couldn't shake the feeling he might just be using you for his own sick desires. And that made you angry again. You'd not be a pawn or a means for no one.

Click

"Wow, okay, you bastard." Your grumbling fell on deaf ears as he turned off the microphone. "Sure, I'm going through something here, but by all means, stop listening. Not like it's your job or anything..."

Unprepared, you jolted back as the door to your cell suddenly yanked open, revealing the pitch-black corridor that lay behind. Apparently, it was late at night, but you couldn't focus on that as your doctor appeared from the shadows, a deep frown etched into his beautiful face. He should have been a model. At least that job wouldn't have led him to meet you.

"Do you doubt me?" he asked, stalking forward, undeterred by the open door, not thinking for a second that you'd try to escape. "Do I need a reason to love you for you to believe it?"

He caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back as he matched the steps you were taking backward. Soon, you'd run out of space to back into, but perhaps that was his goal. 

"Can't I just love you because the first time you caved in and told me about the things you went through, things just felt... right? Everything just clicked in my head, and I thought, "Wow, I want to see them happy!" Must there be any other reason for me to love you?"

Your back hit the wall just as his eyes lowered to your lips, his thumb reaching up to brush over them. "I dream about those lips. I can't help but think about you no matter where I go. In the evening, I imagine you curled up on the couch next to me; sometimes, I hear your laugh when you aren't even there. I want that picture-perfect life with you, but the moment I step into your room and see you covered in blood, your eyes showing just how far gone you are, it just..."

He looked up again, his eyes swirling with all the emotions he tried to convey in his words. But when he met your gaze, the color drained, leaving behind what you could only describe as pure, unfiltered madness.

"It drives me insane."

His second hand raised to the side of your face. He cupped your cheek in his palm for a moment, a soft smile creeping over his lips. "I like you like this. Docile, calm, sweet. I like it when you ask me things, I like it when you beg for something. I like it when you only let me do things to you. I want to help you, I do! But..."

His hand sliding down, you looked away, trying to catch it before it slipped around your throat, pressing into it, squeezing so hard you felt as if your head was going to detach from your neck.

"I want to ruin you. I want you worse, I want you deranged. I want you to kill everyone and then me, so I'll be the last of your victims, the only one you remember. I want to be ruined by you so badly that every day, I hope you tell me about yet another staff member we get to kill, and then you can use me to satisfy your needs. Can't you understand? This is love. No one will ever love someone like you, but. I. do. I understand you, I care for you. And I will continue to do so, with no other reason than I love you. I love you so much."

You gasped for air at this point, fingers grabbing his arm. It was hard listening to him, but it was harder to breathe. You knew he wouldn't kill you. This was nothing compared to other things you two did to each other. It stung a little when he said no one else would ever love you, but he was right. Not unless the change everyone expected from you was also something you wanted. 

But why would you?

The pressure on your throat disappeared, only for your breath to be stolen by his kiss. You hated this man. You hated him because he was a little bit too much like you. Too unhinged to be likable. And at the same time, he wasn't at all. He was too supportive, too nice, too forgiving. It disgusted you, honestly. Yet, you reciprocated, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Before he could back off, you caught his cheeks in a squeeze between your fingers to draw him back to lick off the red fluid, reminding him he wasn't the deranged one here. 

"Don't question me again about my feelings, please," he asked, out of breath, too, as he bumped his forehead against yours. "I love you, I really do."

"You're a sicko, you know that? And your beard is stinging me, you should shave."

At this, he laughed out loud, raising his head to the ceiling. "I spent three days waiting for you to wake up. You can deal with some stubble."

"No, I don't like it."

Grinning, he lowered his face to you and gave you another peck on the lips. "It's gone tomorrow, I promise."

"Can I go back to my room now?"

He hummed thoughtfully before shaking his head. "Someone's awaiting their punishment still. You really want to miss out on that?"

Now it was your turn to grin as well. "Aww, you shouldn't have! Are we gonna cut up that bitch now? For real?"

"Anything for you," he mumbled, raising your hand to give it a quick smooch. "But let me change your bandages first. I don't want you to accidentally get sepsis if your wounds are still open."

"Surprisingly, you're still a doctor at heart."

"That's not true," he gasped, feigning indignation about your statement.

"Are you not?" you asked, watching him bend down to pick you up, bridal-style even. You weren't mad since your legs felt even weaker than before, and you really wanted to conserve your energy. 

"I'm afraid it's no longer medicine that has claimed my heart."

He looked at you, smiling softly. "It's all you."

"And I can't help but love you more, realizing I am becoming more like you every day."

#yandere doctor #yandere!doctor #yandere therapist #yandere!therapist #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[dearemilia]

When you get kidnapped

pairings | sunday, aventurine, acheron x gn! reader

tags | a little spoiler for acheron's part but other than nothing is too major, sunday has a little yandere theme, mentions of killing, fluff, hurt to comfort, not proofread

note | God, I finally managed to beat that aventurine boss!! >.< Also, the sunday part is a bit short, sorry about that sunday lovers! :<

Sunday

He finds it funny how someone can think of kidnapping you.

He’s already informed of the plan because of his crows “What utter fools they are, perhaps a little punishment is enough for them to stay away?”

He’ll personally deal with them once his servants capture them.

He will also need to make sure you don’t know about this and that everything is alright and under his control “Dearest, you don’t need to be so worried, alright? Everything is okay”

After dealing with those fools, he’ll take you out on dates! Buying you everything you want and even the ones you don’t want.

All day, he prays for your safety and happiness. So if anyone dares to take that away, he’ll make sure that they’ll pray for their sins.

Aventurine

No one knows what he’s thinking of right now.

His subordinates don’t know whether they should speak up or not “Find them by dawn and if not…I’ll be sure to cut all of your yearly salary to 56%”

One thing for sure is that they are already searching for you.

It may seem like he’s calm but really, deep down he’s afraid of losing the only good person in his life.

Once he has you back, he’ll shower you with love. You’ll find in your shared room full of new clothes, jewelry, and items you mentioned to him years ago!

And don’t worry, he’s already dealt with the people who were involved in your kidnapping even those who only participated a little bit of it.

“I’m so sorry you had to experience that, my love…” He says while hugging you as you both lay down “I’m truly sorry…This is all my fault…” 

You gently grab his face and press your lips onto his forehead “This is none of your fault…You didn’t know and I didn’t know, it just happened, okay?” You smiled at him.

All Aventurine can think of is how lucky he is to have you.

Acheron

Okay, who would be dumb enough to kidnap you? Like seriously, who?

Your kidnapping happened while she was out buying peaches and you were at home.

As soon as she stepped foot onto your home, she knew something wasn’t right. Noticing how clean the house was.

She balled her hand into a fist, unsheathing her sword.

Just as you were panicking about what happened to you, what was going on, if you were going to be killed?

You feel a familiar pair of arms, wrapping around you, carrying you bridal-style “A-Acheron? Is that you…?” You feel yourself sob, feeling relieved.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you there” You rapidly blinked your eyes as Acheron took off your blindfold.

Acheron places you somewhere safe “Could you…close your eyes and ears for me? This will be quick but it might get a little bloody” 

You nod, turning your head away from the screams of horror from your kidnappers.

You don’t feel any sympathy for them, why should you? They were the ones who were stupid enough to think they could kidnap an emanator’s lover.

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff #sunday x reader #sunday hsr #aventurine #aventurine x reader #acheron #acheron x reader #hsr acheron #hsr headcanons #honkai star rail headcanons

[itstheghostofmypast]

Loyalties

Kim HongJoong x (f) Detective Reader

Summary: He held her itty bitty heart in his bloody palm and she knew that, but did she love him enough to let him win his little game everytime? Did he love her enough to risk her safety?

Genre: Hurt/Comfort Fluff

Warnings: Joong's a perv (Idk okay), mention of gunshots, strong language.

Word Count: 2.5K

Read Time: 12 min

Rating: nc-17

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

She hated him, no she despised him, no she loathed that disgusting, horrid, weasel of a man. She despised his cheap ass fur coat, his unnecessary bling and those pants! Her blood would boil at the mere name of that demonic, immature moron, she despised every little detail about him; his angular face, his sharp eyes that would glimmer like the stars swirling with pure mischief, his light chuckle that would ring in her ears like the voice of an angel, oh and she really, really, abhorred the way he'd look at her, with the warmth of pure love - NO!

Mentally slapping herself she cleared her throat, rehearsing the first stanza of hatred that ran hot in her veins for the infamous leader of MATZ. Technically it was just two men, boys who were usually called in for petty crimes turned into men who were now challenging the system- a knock-off of any vigilante out there. Batman, Daredevil, even the Punisher, see these men had class and style- MATZ, well, they had style...but perhaps the fact that explaining how her once high school friends are now notorious criminals or wannabe Robinhood would be a bit difficult. Perhaps this little fact only added to her current presiding problem, one she had mentioned to her lover, explicitly mentioning her concerns; for the safety of his life and her professional career. Once again, that bastard let his deflated ego in the way, her words bouncing off it without ever reaching his useless, dysfunctional brain.

So, here she stood, in front of her captain, watching him go on and on about the need for order and justice, the need for law and police work, and more importantly the need for loyalty. Loyalty, a trait that was of importance, though her's was being questioned.

"Where do your loyalties lie detective?"

"With the force, Sir" With a salute she looked dead ahead, not at him, no, through him, trying to figure out the answer to this very question. Where did her loyalties lie?

"Then how is it, you've been leading the task force to capture MATZ for three years and each time you are close they miraculously slip away!" his large, meaty hands slammed on the table, her partner beside her flinching, though not a jerk left her bones. Instead, her eyes flickered to his face, instantly scanning his form, this man looked like anything but eh definition of justice, safety and security - if anything, he looked more like a criminal than that moron of hers.

"I assure you, Sergeant, my loyalties lie where my heart has ever since I was a little girl. My friendship with Joong- " pausing she cleared her throat, ignoring the way he raised a brow at he before glancing at her partner as if hinting at something "MATZ, both Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa ended as soon as they started this life of crime."

"I don't trust you an ounce detective, not one bit." slumping back in his seat he stared up at her, "But the Captain trusts ya for some reason, believes you a good egg- I just think you're a cracked egg, too far gone for anything else- so I'll tell you this, I'm on to ya, I'll be watching you, listening to you, from the moment you step into his precinct ill be watching your every move."

.

"Well, that was something." Jongho muttered, closing the door behind him, "Do you...want to grab a bite or something?"

"I'm good." giving him a small smile she sat back at her desk, sifting through the papers, not a word written processing in her already occupied mind. The traffic of thoughts only stopped when a hand rested on hers, "I may be younger than you, but we're partners, and my mentor has always told to me trust my partner. "

His soft words, followed by his cute smile had her sigh in defeat, sitting back down and nodding, "Some mentor you have, huh?"

"She's the best of the best." Puffing up his chest with pride he placed his hands on her desk, "Now, what can I do, to make my mentor feel better."

"Nothing, really Jong, I- " her words caught up as she noticed something. Her eyes caught the way her system was on, the screen lit up, the mouse icon moving on its own, she was being - shit. Instantly reaching for the cable, she pulled the plug on the CPU.

"Um...did you see what I just saw?"

"Jongho, get Yunho and tell him to track whatever the hell that was."

"Yes, Ma'am."

.

The door slammed shut, the darkness just adding to her anger, of course, he wouldn't turn on the lights, no lamp or bulb, choosing to sit on the small balcony - maybe she should just push him off, the idea extremely tempting at this point.

Placing her badge and gun on the table she made her way to the small balcony at the other end of the living room, making sure to turn on a lamp on the way out. Sliding the door open she sighed, the cool breeze prickling her warm skin, a shiver running down her spine as she stepped out completely, barely missing the small table as she made her way to the seat her boyfriend was currently sprawled on, limbs extending like the roots of the potted plants behind him. His head lay against the cushioned headrest, turning his head to face her, an easy smile making its way to his face, the warm glow of the fairy lights from the wall beside him only adding onto his beautiful face, making him appear oh so soft and lovable.

"Hey babe." his words barely above a whisper.

"Joong~" she sang, slowly getting on top of him, making herself comfortable until she was fully straddling him, his hands automatically finding their place on her back, holding onto her tight, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, "Did you miss me?"

"You bet your pretty ass, I did," he mumbled, eying the way she moved closer, her chest pressed against his, fingers playing with the hair at the base of his head.

"Aw~ baby" she pouted before gripping onto the ends of his hair and tugging hard, his head tilting back as a whimper escaped him, damn, his girl was in the mood- or so he thought.

"I didn't you f*cker." her grip tightened, tilting his head further back with another tug, his own fingers digging into her sides, trying to keep some form of control.

"Why~" whining with his eyes closed, he treasured the burning sensation, his princess knew how to play and he liked it so very much.

"Did you get Youngie to tap into my system? Do you want me to get fired? Or do you want me to shoot you in the d*ck?"

"Aw baby~ it's just work." his eyes finally snapped open, standing up without warning as a high-pitched squeak left her lips, arms instantly locking around his neck, much like her legs around his waist, staring up at him wide-eyed.

A chuckle echoed in the dark of the night as his hands finally gripped her close, "Don't worry doll, I'd never let ya fall." Walking them into the apartment he looked down at her frowning, "Did someone piss off my princess ?"

"Joong, " sighing she glanced away, letting him carry her around like she weighed nothing, like she was a mere muse he was addicted to, clinging onto him, onto his fur coat- wait God, he was wearing the orange one, she hated it.

"Yes, love?" slowly setting her down on the bed he shrugged off his jacket, going to the cupboard to hang it, his precious baby wasn't cheap!

"I can only protect you if you trust me, but if you hack into my system or pull shit like that and they fire me, who knows what- I- I just can't lose you" her words clogging up in her throat, the burning sensation all too evident behind her eyes, " what I mean is" sighing she paused to rephrase, his casual attitude just adding to the frustration as he walked towards her, swaying like a cat, stopping right in front of her sitting form, "Hongjoong, I'm serious, with me, it is just a game of cat and mouse but if I get replaced, if its someone else, it'll be serious and they might even-"

"Shhh..." placing a finger on her lips he hushed her, his hand caressing her cheek, admiring how she nuzzled into his palm, "You know love, " he whispered leaning closer till their noses touched, "I am a very dangerous man, I am more than just your lover."

"But-"

"I'll lay off your system," brushing his lips against hers, "Detective." Pulling back he smiled down at her, admiring how she looked up at him with teary eyes filled with nothing but love and worry, letting his intrusive thoughts win and squishing her cheeks with one hand, laughing at her whining in protest.

His other hand pulled out something from his back, showing her the shiny metal toy of his, "If it were someone else, other than you, that f*cker would already be dead, you're the only reason why I haven't torn this system down to shreds." with one last kiss to the forehead, her lovable idiot of a man once again promised to stay out of her way, at least for a while.

.

"This is team two, The ground floor is clear."

He did it again, he must've done it again, no way in hell did he not do it.

"Team three reporting from floor 1, all clear."

"Boss" Jongho mumbled beside her, turning off his comm, "Did you tell him?"

Sighing she adjusted her bulletproof west as the two walked into the basement, "Yes, I told that bastard, my system wasn't tapped, I double-checked." Of course, her junior knew about her little relationship, she did teach him that a mentor and mentee should have no secrets, even ones like these. It didn't take him long to accept it either, saying something along the lines of, "Is he really that bad if he's fighting against a system that has failed us?"

"Because Yunho just texted me saying your phone was tapped instead. "

"I hate him."

"Team two reporting, roof's all clear boss."

"This doesn't look good," he mumbled, trailing hot on her heels as the two entered the basement, a parking lot with two entrances. They were going to split up, "We can't go empty-handed, we need something at least."

"I know. Let's split up, and be on your guard."

With that the two parted ways, her footsteps echoing across the empty parking lot, the scraping of her boots muffling the jingle of her gun, one that was aimed and ready to shoot. A low chuckle caught her ear.

"STOP RIGHT THERE." She yelled, turning to aim at the fool, his smirk pissing her off even more, "Don't.Move."

"Hey doll." the deep voice from beside her alerting her senses, "You should go check up on your partner, baby bear's knocked out like Goldilocks." Seonghwa chuckled, making his way to stand next to Hongjoong who had his hands up for a show, the smug look never leaving his face.

"Aw, come on detective, just let us go and we can call it a night."

A loud bang, followed by a series of bangs, resonated across the entire parking lot.

"ALL UNITS TO THE BASEMENT, NOW!"

.

"You okay?" she asked, pressing the icepack against the bump on his head, "Told you to wear the helmet."

"Are YOU okay?" he asked, others around them looking at their head's bulletproof jacket, staring at the four shots right across it. Though that's not what he meant, he was definitely asking about something else.

"Yeah, great actually." Patting her head she turned around when someone called her name, eying the office who handed her a phone, "It's the sergeant, detective." rolling her eyes she pressed it against her ear, "Hello?"

"Detective. I heard about the encounter but didn't think you had it in ya to shoot him. Glad the bulletproof vest worked though, you're a good agent, we can't risk losing. I take it back, you have my trust and support. Get home safe."

.

Slamming the door shut she sighed in relief, kicking off her shoes she made her way into the living room, oh? The lights were on, what a pleasant surprise, wonder what happened?

"Hey honey how was work?" she smirked, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as she watched her shirtless boyfriend glare back at her, both ignoring the other man in the room who was tending to the gunshot wound.

Raising a brow, he scoffed, "Oh great love I got shot today by a bitch-"

"I'm still holding my gun Joong, don't test me"

Slamming his hand on his thigh he yelled "YOU SHOT ME- you SHOT ME IN THE SHOULDER!" hissing in pain as Seonghwa clicked his tongue, mumbling a stay still as he patched up the hole. This was all he could do before Yeosang could come over and have a proper look at it.

"YOU TAPPED MY PHONE"

"WELL YOUR SERGEANT WAS GETTING TOO COZY WITH YA- man's a perv, I know it" he spat back, shoving Seonghwa out of the way with his free hand, earning a curse in return.

"HONGJOONG, HE WAS DOUBTING MY LOYALTIES!" she explained and pointed at herself, "AND YOU SHOT ME TOO!"

A dramatic gasp echoed across the room followed by a hand placed on his chest - his heart, mind you-, causing Seonghwa to roll his eyes, here we go again, he should've never befriended these two in high school. Mumbling to himself about their idiocy he walked out to the balcony, deciding to smoke instead of listening to these idiots.

"First of all, YOU shot ME first and" he yelled and turned to point at the balcony, "That motherf*cker shot you, not me! I agree four times was a bit excessive but hey you were the one who kept going on and on about us being too soft on ya." Turning to her with raised brows, "And loyalties? Babe, come on, I mean, you and I- like we like- I've been in you multiple times, day or night and-"

"CAN YOU NOT!" she screamed, gesturing at the open door of the balcony.

'I don't care, pretend I'm not here, that's what I'm pretending too!' was all they could hear from the balcony, causing her face to resemble a tomato, though her shameless boyfriend was as nonchalant as ever, continuing his little speech, half naked in the living room.

"All I'm saying is, I don't question your loyalties because I know you've got the hots for me like I completely get it, I'd wanna sleep with me too, but your creep of a boss knows his soggy sausage aint worth your time and-"

"I should've aimed for your d*ck"

"Would you really though? Cause I know you loyal to my d-"

"And this conversation is over." with that she stomped away, speed walking when she heard the loud cackles of Seonghwa followed by the laughter of her own idiot of a man. No, boys, they were still the same shameless teenage boys, she accidentally had the unfortunate fate of meeting in school, when she was nothing but a victim of loneliness, turning her grey dull days into chaotic, colourful ones pulled out of the ass of the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland.

#cromernet #k labels #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #matz #ateez matz #ateez fluff #matz mv #park seonghwa #jongho x reader #choi jongho #choi san #Wooyoung #Yunho #kang yeosang #Mingi #hongjoong x y/n #female reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #Matz has got me in a chokehold #atiny #break the wall #ateez kq

[grapejuicestyless]

I’ll Crawl Home To Her

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: There was no distance that could keep Harry from you. Not even the vastest oceans would slow him down. As the holidays near closer and closer, all he really wants is you.

PURE FLUFF

He thinks of her always. A plaguing memory of the last time they spoke, a vivid painting of the way her eyes would crinkle when she smiled. He carried her honey-sweet laughter within him. Her voice the ground beneath his very feet.

He thinks of how lucky he is. To be blessed with someone so soft, so sweet. When he was with her, Harry didn’t seem to ever worry about heaven or hell. All he wished for was to be gently placed beneath the soil. He wished for him to be able to stay there, somewhere he could pull himself from, even in death to find her. Trace the dimples in her back just one last time, feel her lips pressed to his temple just one last time.

He could write all the songs for her, tell everyone just how much his heart yearned for the girl, but no words could describe her fully. Her honest smile and wild hair. If he were to sing it, he was sure nobody would ever be able to picture her right.

She had an aura that could never be captured. A rare beauty no person could ever really swallow fully. The more Harry thinks about it, the more starved he becomes.

He tortures himself with the image of her eyes twinkling in the fairy lights. The tree behind her littered with ornaments they collected from all their adventures together. At first he had wanted a theme for their tree. A color scheme. She insisted it would feel more like home to have it that way. She was always right. No gold and white color coordination could fill him with as much pride as the small plastic figures on the branches would.

He sees her wrapping presents. The thought of her doing it all alone, without the specially curated playlists he made drives him mad. How the kitchen floors are untouched because she’d sworn dancing just wasn’t dancing if it wasn’t with him.

He knows the oven is cold. There are no treats on the counter or glasses of milk on the counter like when he was there. He wishes he could live a life with a job that wasn’t so demanding.

He thinks about the thousands of people begging for his attention. And even in all of their praise and love for him, it’s nothing but a fraction compared to what she provides. Harry decides he can’t take it. He has all the heart to speak of her like she’s all he could ever need, but here he is half the world away, sitting alone in a hotel room with a bottle of wine and Tylenol. She would laugh at him for sure. The thought only motivates him further.

So when he calls her that night, it’s from the airport. He claims it’s the stadium buzz, the usual sound of his team and their own team too. She buys it because he would never lie to her.

When he walks through the door that same night, she doesn’t believe it. How someone so distant could be so close now. And she can’t trust herself until her hands are gripping at his shirt snd her nose is in his neck. Her tears wet his collar and she swears she can feel his running down her shoulder. When she asks him how he’s done it, he answers by telling her how much he loves her. And when she laughs he takes her face in his hands, cradling it delicately and rubbing his thumb to dry her tears.

“Not even death could part me from you. No grave can hold my body down. I’ll crawl home to you.” It’s honest and raw. It’s something that Harry could never have said before. Words he never knew how to say before. He thinks she’ll take his words as crazy, back off and laugh. But she places her hands on his and massages his fingers between hers.

And when she presses a kiss to his palm, he swears he feels more alive than ever.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #yn x harrystyles #harry styles

[spiderfunkz]

hihi!! loved ur artist hcs with the arachkids!!

could i request an artist! gf with miles? they could be sketching in their own journals on a rainy day and maybe even share a kiss??? thank you! much love xx

✧.* lovers rock

— summary : while the others talk, we were listening to lovers rock, in her bedroom.

— pairings : miles morales x fem!reader

— word count : 0,3k

— warnings : fluff, established relationship, super cheesy teen romance stuff, miles being a rambling mess, reader calling miles a nerd, and like a kiss (on the cheek Oops). also not proofread.

a/n : hii thank u sm for the request lovely ^_^ sorry this took so long writers block kicked my ass around, but here it is now!! hope u like it <3

you could hear the faint sound of the rain followed with a bit of humming through your earphones. you've been spending the day sketching in your journal with your boyfriend, as the rain had cancel your plans of going out.

but there's no point in being sad about that, so when your boyfriend texts you if you wanna meet up of course you said yes.

"what're you working on?" miles peaks, "it's a surprise." you reply, scribbling on the page. your drawing a portrait of miles, he's smiling, teeth showing, with a little kiss mark on the cheek.

and he's drawing a portrait of you, his art style perfectly capturing your beauty. there are already many drawings of you in his journal, each one picturing a different memory with you, but there's just something about this one.

maybe it's because how your surroundings can effect feelings. miles loves going on dates with you to arcades or the movies, but he adores spending time with you like this, lazy rainy days where he just chats with you and sit there in comfortable silence.

"how about, if i show you mine, you'll show me yours?" he asks. you nodded, "alright, i'm also done with mine."

a few minutes pass by and you're putting the finishing touches on your sketch. "i'm done!" you smile, showing him your drawing.

miles reveals his book too, it was a similar sketch to yours, it was you smiling with a little kiss mark near your cheek. and if you squint you could make out a little 'i love you' with a heart next to it.

he gasps, "we drew the same thing? no way, i mean obviously you drew it better than me but everything you draw is basically amazing. like seriously though, this should be put in a museum, my face! well not my face but you drew my face really nicely! wait no- that sounds narcissistic but.." he rambles causing you to chuckle.

"does that say 'i love you' ?" you squint, pointing at the tiny writing. "oh you could see that?" he hides the book away from you, face turning red.

he seems embarrassed, so you reassured him not to be. "i love you too, nerd." you kiss him on the cheek, just like the sketch you made.

#miles morales #miles morales x reader fluff #miles morales x reader #miles morales fluff #miles morales imagine #miles morales imagines #miles morales blurbs #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #1610 miles morales #atsv x y/n #atsv x you #atsv x reader #atsv #across the spiderverse #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles morales #miles atsv

[the-ninjago-historian]

Ninjago Remastered Designs!

THEY'RE DONE! After months of work!!! They are DOOOOOOOOOOONE. WOOOOOOOOOOO! Lol! Welp, these are my Ninjago designs! Basically, this is my take on the Ninja if they were in a 2d animated cartoon! And yes! I will be drawing more characters. Tumblr butchered the quality, so close ups and design notes are below the cut. They're pretty detailed, so I highly recommend checking them out. Feel free to ask questions about the designs! ⬇️⬇️⬇️ - ✒️🐉

When designing these outfits, I tried to take inspiration from the ones in the show. And in terms of art style, drew inspiration from early 2000s cartoons, (Action Adventure ones specifically,) Anime inspired shows, and even a hint of traditional Disney animation. And while I designed them with a 2d cartoon in mind, most of the designs would most likely have to be simplified for them to be used in animation. So let's get started!

Kai: Kai was a pretty fun to work with. I actually didn't plan on giving him a sleeveless outfit. But it happened! And I like it! If you'll notice, the flame pattern on his vest mirrors the pattern on his sister Nya's outfit. I thought that would be a cool detail to include. It was inspired by their March of The Oni outfits. I also made sure to include his scar and bandaid. And gave him reddish brown eyes to signify his elemental power. Him and sister I imagine being Brazilian/Taiwanese. So I hope I captured their ethnicity properly. I'm pretty happy with this design. Especially his hair, which was hard to replicate.

Jay: Jay was a hard one for sure. I wasn't too sure how to vamp up his outfit. So I started by giving him some lightning patterns on his Gi. (At least I think that's what it's called?) And I decided to make it look a little baggy and soft. It just seemed to suit him. I tried something a little more form fitting and didn't look right. Also! A fun detail I included was his half the Yin Yang pendent around his neck! And of course Nya has her half. I imagine him having Irish ancestry, so I gave him pale, freckled skin. And gorgeous curly red hair. (As a fellow red head, I'm very proud.) Overall, I think he turned out pretty adorable. And his face is spot on.

Nya: Nya I pretty much got right on the first try! I just had a really clear vision of her in my head. I gave her a grey outfit with bright, vibrant blue details. The pattern on her Gi is inspired by Koi Scales. And she has her half of the Yin Yang pendent around her neck. I really like this one, because while it is simple, it's beautiful. And I think it reflects her element nicely. The only thing I missed was to give her a symbol like the rest. But overall, I love it! One more thing is that I wanted to give her and Pixal different hair. So when I finally release my Pixal design, you'll see that while they both have ponytails, I gave them different cut and styled ones. Should be neat!

Zane: Zane was the first one of the Ninjas I redesigned! I love how he turned out. I tried to give him a splintered ice effect on his outfit inspired by his Core minifigure and gave him his faithful falcon companion. Falcon has his old greyish purple feathers, but blue icy eyes to match his owner. I also wanted to give Zane flowing sleeves, that would look very majestic waving about in a blizzard wind. He is also incredibly tall. Taller than Cole even! I was inspired by the giant humanoid robots I'd seen in movies. In his cloaking disguise, I imagine him looking German. With blond hair, blue eyes, and light skin. I also like to think Dr Julian was German. (Was this influenced by my German ancestry? Who knows?)

Cole: You would not believe how many times I had to redraw this man's face. Haha! I just could find that sweet spot! That face that perfectly encapsulated his strong, but gentle personality. But I think I did it! His outfit is based on his Oni Trilogy Gi, with orange detailing. And he has his Island ponytail and bandana. I absolutely loved that hair style on him. So I had to use it! And if you'll notice, he has a beautiful tattoo on his right arm, with his symbol in the center. I imagine him being half Maori, from his mother's side. And the tattoo was inspired by Maori tattoos I saw pictures of. I'm not too sure how accurate those images were. But hopefully I hit the mark.

Lloyd: Finally! Our green Ninja Lloyd! His outfit was inspired by two things. Dragons, and his outfit from the Secrets of Forbidden Spinjitsu seasons. I gave him a beautiful golden dragon and cloud pattern on his clothes, a leather arm guard, and shoulder pads. If you look closer, you'll also see he has cat-like dragon eyes which pays homage to his dragon and Oni heritage. I like to think that depending on his emotions, his eyes will go from slits, to big and wide. So they are good indicators for his mood. I also imagine him being Japanese. But his powers give him his classic blond hair and green eyes. I'm very happy with this design. His hair, eyes, and face all look exactly how I see him in my head.

Well, that's all. I hope you enjoyed these designs and notes! I assure you, you will see more of the them.

Bye! - ✒️🐉

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago lego #ninjago fanart #ninjago lloyd #ninjago jay #ninjago cole #ninjago au #nya smith #lloyd garmadon #lloyd ninjago #lloyd montgomery garmadon #jay ninjago #jay walker #nya ninjago #ninjago nya #cole brookestone #cole ninjago #cole brookstone #ninjago kai #kai jiang #kai ninjago #kai smith #zane ninjago #zane julien #ninjago zane #My art #ink dragon #Ninjago Remastered

[gabessquishytum]

Since his imprisonment over a century ago, cinema has changed. Dream knew the camera would always be the next big thing in storytelling and that the movie would become a new medium that the next generation of storytellers would manipulate and mold.

So Hob proposes movie night. They go in order of the decades, from just before he was captured up to the present day. So far Dream has really liked the 1926 rendition of Phantom of the Opera, Gertie the Dinosaur, and the 1939 rendition of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. The film for this movie night is Gene Kelly's Singing in the Rain and then afterwards Wizard of Oz, but he's not alone.

Del is still feeling a bit rejected by her family and decides to pop around her siblings to see what they've got going on. Destiny let her get lost in his maze, Death took her into the deep ocean to say good bye to an ancient whale, Desire took her to a club where she made a guy hitting on her dance forever, and Despair just sat around in her own self misery and Del nearly succumbed to boredom. Dream is the only one left to humor her and brings her with him for movie night.

It goes off about as well as to be expected. She loved the film, particularly enjoying Cosmo's Make Them Laugh and Dorothy's Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Dream also liked the film, though it wasn't one of his favorites. Just something bright and colorful to pass the time. But this gives her an idea. Things always seem to work out when people are singing and she just wishes that everything with her family would resolve in something as simple as a song.

So she makes everyone sing. The first victim is Hob who wakes the next day singing to his appliances and every sentence afterward. Which is weird for him, but he can't stop. He can't get through a lesson without making it into a song. Which is becoming disturbing by lecture number three. He goes home and contacts Dream.

Who is having his own issues. The Dreaming and its denizens can't stop singing either. Matthew has turned into a songbird and the music is starting to chafe his nerves. He goes into the Waking and finds all of humanity has joined in a discordant musical number. Lovers sing about the virtues of romance, street punks are dancing in lines and singing about how they're going to cause trouble. A woman screams herself bloody about her lost dreams and passions. He makes his way to Hob's apartment, where he comes down with a song himself.

It's a heart wrenching screed about the loss of time and opportunity. About how he just wants to love and be loved in return. Red-faced, he disappears.

Hob heard every word he said and opened the door too late, leaving them both to scream themselves hoarse about their feelings. A song that perpetuates until Hob passes out from exhaustion and is ferried onto the Dreaming. There they have a heart to heart in the form of a ballad which culminates in a big, sweeping movie musical style kiss.

After the first few deaths from exhaustion, Death comes to her sister. Even she is not immune and through a large musical number, shows Delirium the extent of the damage she's caused. Del doesn't feel bad, until she hears her brothers and sisters sing. The whole universe is in a chorus of pain and misery as they struggle under the weight of her gift. So she removes the curse and sulks. Her sigil dims and she retreats deep into her realm.

Until she hears her siblings collectively calling for her. She appears in Hob's living room. The popcorn is popped, the room is darkened and she can see everyone sitting on the couch or the floor except for one place on the couch, between Death and Hob. Dream is comfortably sitting next to his new human lover, his head on his shoulder. They invite her in as the movie is just about to start. They're watching Meet Me in St. Louis.

- 🤜 anon

MY HEART. Poor darling Del, she certainly meant for it to be a good thing. But nobody really wants to be singing for more than a short amount of time. I wonder what Dream and Hob sound like while singing? If Dream’s singing is as unique as his laughter, I'm sure it was truly... something. But hey, Del unwittingly performed a minor miracle by bringing the idiots together at last. Who knew that all it would take was a romantic ballad after 600 years of pining?

Del enjoys Meet Me in St Louis a lot! She likes the slightly disfunctional family, particularly the little sister who gets into all kinds of shenanigans. The best part is being with her family, though, especially because they're all on their best behaviour! They even have a good ole sing along to the Trolley Song. Delirium revels in the slight chaos and finally feels properly appreciated by her entire family <3

#🤜 anon #the sandman #dreamling #delerium of the endless

[pasukiyo]

𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

— steve harrington x f!reader

warnings; soft smut

a/n; just a little something i wrote literally on a whim lol i’m still working on requests so expect those soon! anyways, this was heavily inspired by melting by kali uchis! definitely go listen to that :)

word count; 1.3k

; listen to melting by kali uchis !

“i think my tits are gonna melt off. and it’s gonna be your fault.”

 steve’s lips curved up into a soft smile when he laughed, resting on his elbow beside her as the golden medallion in the sky beat down onto their skin. her flesh was shiny and slick with her sweat, and she squinted over at him. “i’m being totally serious, you know.”

 “oh no. not your tits,” he tittered, his palm soothing up and down the exposed skin of her stomach, and although she flushed at his touch, she grimaced, it only made her feel warmer. “you know, there’s a whole body of water in front of us,” steve gestured to lover’s lake ahead with his head, “maybe there’s still hope for your tits.”

 she grumbled as she shuffled closer to him, her hand finding his, her fingers weaving together with his and resting them upon her stomach. “maybe, but that requires actually getting up, and i don’t know if you’re aware of this, harrington, but your girlfriend is lazy.” steve’s head tilted back as he erupted into a small fit of laughter, and she could see his chest heaving up and down in tune with his breaths. “baby, i was already well aware, but thanks for reminding me.”

 she turned her head towards him and narrowed her eyes, “hey.”

 steve cocked an eyebrow in reply, “what?”

 “you weren’t supposed to agree with that.”

 steve sucked air through his teeth in attempt to suppress his smile daring to peek through the cracks of his lips, “you’re totally right. sorry, that was uncalled for.”

 “hmph,” she huffed, closing her eyelids and facing back up towards the sky. “that’s what i thought.”

 a small silence ensued, and the pad of steve’s thumb caressed the back of her hand, his opposite tousling the hair atop her head. she peeled an eyelid opened and glanced over to where he laid, a soft, permanent smile upon his lips, pearly whites peeking out at her. she closed her eyelids again, in fear that if she let her gaze linger any longer, she’d just about melt like ice cream for real.

 “you’re so pretty,” he murmured, his knuckle soothing over her cheek as heat pooled there. “you look really hot.. in a few different ways.”

 she gasped when she felt his arms sneak their way beneath her body, her arms subconsciously wrapping around his neck as he picked her up from the ground. “steve!” she whined as he caught his balance, carrying her bridal style as he jogged his way over to the shore of the lake, hurriedly wading through the water. she laughed when the water reached his knees and he fell forward, practically dunking her beneath the surface. 

 “steve!” she squealed as he splashed water around her face, and she swam her way to shallower water so that she, too, could splash him. they laughed over the water, and she turned to run away from him when he came forward, lunging forward and circling his arms around his waist to tackle her back down into the water. her fingers gripped at the dripping locks of umber hair on his head as he pushed it against her stomach, his fingernails pirouetting against the soft skin of her stomach, her ribs stinging from laughing so hard.

 steve stood straight up and with his arms still closed around her waist, he pulled her into his chest, her arms slithering back around his neck. he carded loose, wet strands of her hair back behind her ear, his lips capturing hers in his kiss, one filled with much fervor, nearly knocking the breath out of either of their chests. when they eventually pulled away, their foreheads lazed against one another’s, her fingernails toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

 “so, how do your tits feel now?” he questioned, and she giggled, pressing a soft kiss to the plush of his lips. “well, they aren’t going to melt off now, if that’s what you were asking about,” she replied, bucking her hips into his as she hooked a leg around his, his hand slipping down to her thigh to hold her there. “but.. they could use some.. attention.”

 steve’s smile was evident against her lips as he kissed her again, his hands roaming up her chest and back down to her stomach, his palms grazing over her erect nipples as they outlined through her bikini top. she moaned into his mouth before his kisses trailed down to her jaw, sucking and gently biting there before venturing down to her throat, etching small marks there too with his lips.

 “stevie,” she mewled when his kisses made their rounds to her breasts, his hands reaching around to her back to tug at the tie of her bikini, the straps slipping down to her elbows so that she could be fully exposed to him now. his lips found one nipple, and he hollowed his cheeks, her back arching and chest heaving into his chest. “fuck.”

 he kissed his way between the valley of her breasts as he spoiled the other nipple, making sure to suck love bites into her skin before he moved on. his palms made their descent below her belly button and down past the hem of her bottoms, the pads of his fingers grazing over her clothed clit, and she whimpered, bucking into his touch. “such a filthy, little thing, hm?” he murmured just behind her ear as his fingers pulled her bottoms to the side, his other hand working his swim trunks down until they rested just below his ass. “just achin’ for me to fill you up. you’re adorable.”

 steve wouldn’t make her wait much longer. 

 he fisted his cock and teased the head at her entrance, and her sex practically reeled him in as he snapped his hips, bottoming out in one swift motion. she squealed at the feeling of being filled up all the way to the absolute brim, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck as he hooked both of her legs around his waist, his thrusts slow and languid, his lips pressing a kiss to her temple. 

 “so, so beautiful,” he cooed, nuzzling his face against the side of her head as he gave her cunt long, slow, hard strokes. “make me feel so good. i love you.”

 she’d lost all her senses— or perhaps, steve harrington was all five of them, and a sixth. he was haunting, and she became a woman possessed, steve harrington conquering every inch of her body like it was her own and it felt so natural. it felt so good to just give herself up to him, to be completely and utterly his. he ignited just like a candlelight, and she melted like wax in the palms of his hands, ready to be shaped and formed into whatever he pleased.

 because she loved him.

 she was so in love with steve harrington, that she’d do anything to just stay in this moment forever, to never have to leave him, or this daydream..

 ..”hey. you with us?”

 her eyelids fluttered open and although her vision was blurry, she could easily confirm that she wasn’t at lover’s lake, nor was she in steve harrington’s arms, feeling his kisses against her skin, his cock making the kind of love to her she knew was too good to be true. 

 robin cocked an eyebrow to her hairline as her vision finally cleared, and behind her, she could just make out the silhouettes of the rest of their group, among them steve harrington. 

 steve harrington gazing at nancy wheeler the way she only dreamed he'd look at her. 

 she blinked, “yeah. sorry, was just.. daydreaming.”

 she deflated at the reminder that in reality, steve harrington was not hers, nor was she his. 

 if only there was a way she could stay, at least for a little while, in her daydream..

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington x you #stranger things headcanons #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff

[kittyball23]

Reactive (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Branch is captured by Velvet and Veneer… and the news does not sit well with Poppy

A/N: A small rewrite of the scene in my oneshot "The Trade" as requested by @webslingerofthegalaxy, who suggested the possibility of Poppy having a different reaction to learning of Branch being captured :)

__________________________________________

“This I promise you…”

As Branch held on to the last note of the song, the doll-like siblings' full attention had gone to him. They faced him, a look of astonishment clear on their faces. Clearly, they hadn’t expected Branch to confront them by breaking out singing at random. Nor did they expect him to sound that… good.

Velvet looked at Veneer. Veneer looked at Velvet.

Branch glanced at the two of them.

“Once again, I’ve come here to ask that you release my brother, Floyd.”

The twins grew a malicious smile on each of their faces. “Well,” Veneer said.

“Perhaps we can work out a compromise,” Velvet said, finishing the thought.

__________________________________________

In the meantime, Poppy had made her way back to John Dory, Spruce, and Clay, having explained with much distress of what had occurred when she’d spoken to Branch after he and his brothers argued.

“I tried,” she said, nearly on the verge of tears. “I really did try. And I know he can change his mind. But it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen right now…”

The brothers hung their heads. They figured Branch would not be easily convinced to come back, but they could not be mad about it. It was understood why.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait,” Spruce said, a bit defeated.

John Dory gave a shrug of agreement, unable to think of anything else, and hoping that the wait for their brother to come back around wouldn’t be too long.

“Or maybe you don’t have to,” Clay said, suddenly perking up and pointing behind them. “Look!”

The Trolls turned to look in the direction he was pointing and, sure enough, running towards them was the figure of a Troll.

Poppy gasped. “Branch!” She began to run towards him, trying to meet him halfway, when she started to slow her pace after getting a better look. Wait a second. This Troll was not her boyfriend. This nearly-out-of-breath Troll who was sprinting towards them did share some slight similarities to him, though instead of a crop of rich blue hair on his head, it was a vibrant magenta, styled to where part of the bangs obscured his left eye. A single black earring was embedded into his right ear. She reared back in surprise, recognizing him at once. “Floyd?”

Floyd panted, trying to catch his breath. “Yes, yes, it’s me.” He gave a small wave when the other brothers instantly flanked Poppy’s sides, also as surprised to see Floyd before them now.

“Yo bro, it’s good to see you’re okay!” John Dory exclaimed. “You are okay, right?”

Floyd quickly checked himself, ensuring that he was uninjured. “Um, yeah, I think so.” Though he said it, the Trolls could still see that something still wasn’t quite right. He looked very shaken… and extremely worried.

“Dude, how did you escape?” Spruce asked.

“Yeah, those weirdos were something fierce and nasty!” Clay added.

Floyd said nothing at first, looking as though he was recalling something painful. He averted his gaze and looked down at the ground, looking almost ashamed. Poppy felt worry start to prick at her now. Something's not right here... but I need to find out WHAT. She moved closer to Floyd, putting a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at the unexpected touch, but welcomed it. He really needed the comfort right now.

“Floyd,” Poppy said gently, her voice lowered. “Can you tell us what happened? Please?”

The magenta Troll was silent, but he nodded his head, able to find the voice to finally explain. “It was Branch.”

Poppy stiffened at the mention of her boyfriend. But she needed to hear this. “Branch?” she asked.

Floyd nodded. “He came, not too long ago. He asked them to let me go and when they didn’t… h-he sang.” He stopped, recalling the moment. He shook his head. “I never got a chance to hear Branch really sing when we were kids. But now, it… it sounds like… like…”

“Like an angel’s,” Poppy finished, familiar with how beautiful his voice could sound.

“Exactly,” Floyd agreed. “And they seemed to think so, too. So now I’m out here, and he’s…” The Troll trailed off, unable to bear finishing his sentence.

From behind him and Poppy, the three brothers gasped. “They took him!” John Dory exclaimed.

Floyd nodded, looking terribly guilty. “He didn’t have to do it. I wasn’t worth it. I left him!” he cried, wishing more than ever that he could change what happened in the past.

Everyone was quiet for a moment, taking in this new information with grim understanding.

Then, suddenly, Poppy spoke.

“They… took… BRANCH?!”

The brothers were startled out of the silence when Poppy’s voice raised on octave. When glancing at her, they were incredibly surprised to find that the happy-go-lucky Pop Queen had her face twisted in anger and her fists clenched. “They took OUR Branch?? MY Branch?!” she yelled out again.

Floyd felt himself tear up. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for it to happen…” he whimpered.

Poppy whirled on him. “Floyd, I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at THEM!” she shouted, pointing back in the direction the magenta Troll had come from, in reference to Velvet and Veneer. She gritted her teeth, her cheeks turning red and her body trembling with rage. “I can let a lot of things slide,” the Queen began icily, “They can go off and be big phony-baloneys all they want… but not with any of you… and definitely not with MY BOYFRIEND!!”

Poppy glared daggers in the direction of his kidnappers. They were still back there in their dressing room, probably getting ready to get up into their talent-stealing antics once again. That image of Branch being sealed in a diamond bottle - getting the lifeforce sucked right out of him, draining him, making him weaker and weaker - made her blood boil, and suddenly imaginations of a very unqueenly-like nature began to flash through her mind - of beating the cupcakes out of those two fakers, of trapping them in some diamond prison and seeing how THEY liked it, of forcing them to free her beloved through any torturous means necessary…

But then she realized where she actually was, seeing the shocked look on his brothers' faces, and realizing how angry she had gotten.

Poppy sighed, feeling it drain out of her a little. "Sorry, guys, it's just… those bastards! They're gonna hurt Branch the same way they hurt Floyd!"

"Girl, you got a HUGE right to be angry!" John Dory replied, not at all disturbed. He was impressed, if anything, for how riled up she got, for it showed how much she really cared about him.

"We can't let anything happen to Branch," Floyd said, "... but how?"

"I'll tell you how," Poppy said, feeling every bit determined. "We're gonna band together so we can save him!"

"She's correctamundo!" JD replied. "It wasn't just you who walked out on him, Floyd... we ALL did," he said, gesturing to himself, Spruce, and Clay. "You were worth it, bro. Because you’re his brother. And Branch is our brother. And those days of walking-out-on-each-other are over. You know why?”

Spruce did, seeing where JD was going with this, and he piped up. “Because we’re a family.”

“And families are there for each other!” Clay added.

"Exactly!" Poppy cried. Then she thrust her hand out in front of her. "So who's with me?"

The hands of John Dory, Spruce, and Clay shot out to join hers. Floyd, still feeling bad for what had occurred, hesitated a second. He didn't know what she or his brothers had in mind, but what he did know was that he wasn't going to let his baby brother down. Not again. So he, too, placed his hand on time of theirs and threw it up in the air when they all did.

“IT’S BRO-TIME!” came the collective shout.

John Dory quickly huddled them together, all the Trolls’ heads nearly touching each other as the group formed a tight circle.

“All right, we need a new game plan,” the BroZone leader said, more determined than ever. “And I think I got just the one. It’s going to take ALL of us, though, so listen in…”

So Poppy, Spruce, Clay, and Floyd did listen in, adding their own input when sought necessary and tweaking what was needed to be tweaked. Soon enough, their plan did indeed start to come together, and soon enough they set themselves into executing the ambitious task.

Dangerous? Maybe. Worth it? One-hundred percent.

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #broppy #branch trolls #poppy trolls #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes

[hotxcheeto]

Hi!

I was wondering if you could write something with Ellie x fem reader where reader is like an actress/film director who's passionate about just filmmaking and acting in general, maybe her and Ellie met because they're jobs crossed over or maybe Ellie was a fan of reader or something.

━ 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, fluff, mention of crappy dating??,

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope/a lil

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - so sorry this took months, I'm so behind but I was going through some shit lmao, thank you for the rq!! <3 ALSO making these banners here and there cause I'm running out of good gifs and got a lot of good screen shots and photos.. :)

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED AND NOTICED!

"Don't you understand, she was my daughter too.."

You muttered your lines to yourself as the artist did your makeup, brushing over your eyes as she captured an old timey look. Using so many reference photos that the entire table was filled when you walked in, giving you both something to talk about at first.

That was until a comfortable silence filled over, Mia having become a close friend of yours on set. You felt excited every morning to come and get done up for whatever scene you had as the duchess you played. Knowing she'd capture every dated detail on your skin.

But today your mind was filled with other thoughts than just the make-up. Stressed to all hell for the next few days, knowing you and the director needed to perfect both your acting and the shots that would make your performance come together.

And that was just it, you needed to be perfect.

"Nervous?" Mia asked with a smile, taking a hint from your shaky, silent nature, backing up to grab a different brush.

"Extremely." You responded with a light laugh, looking at yourself in the mirror. "You got this, you're being nominated for, not one, but multiple of the most prestigious awards in media. If anyone can pull off such an important scene, it's you. Especially with how pretty I'm making you everyday."

You nodded with a small smile, but still felt like you could pass out at any moment in time. Clutching onto the papers like they'd disappear while letting out a shaky sigh.

"I know, but-" "But you still act like you've never been in front of the camera every time they're ready for a big shellshock to be filmed. Mind you, the scenes start filming tomorrow, not today."

You winced at the very clear truth to her words.

"Too loud Mia." She laughed, continuing on with your makeup, ignoring the door opening to reveal your favorite stage manager, smiling too brightly for the fact that it was six in the morning.

"The painter is ready when you are, ready to be photographed Y/n?" You sighed in response, looking at the clock as Mia applied an old looking lip color to your mouth. "I'm ready to look like a renaissance portrait, that's for sure."

"She said she might need you for the sketch too, just to make sure she's got the best outline of you that matches, but other than that, you should be done quick and have some free time before shooting starts."

The stage manager spoke, looking down at the tablet in her hand while speaking. Mia pulling away to look at your face, turning your head lightly with her fingers.

"What's her name?" "Don't remember, all I know is that she's good and the directors favorite prop guy really likes her." Mia took the cover off your costume, allowing you to stand up in your long, olden style dress.

"Ready to be renaissanced?" You nodded, leaving the makeup trailer and telling Mia you'd see her later. Walking off towards one of the nearby buildings labeled for set creation and prop design.

The place was decked out too, even more so since the last time you'd come inside. Pieces from every time period hanging about complimented by posters on every wall. Familiar drawings and items from some scenes of your favorite shows displayed out to remind everyone that these people had made them.

They liked showing off their stuff where they could, most of the workspaces and offices a bit more boring depending on who you were talking to. But other than that, the entire building was the best on set.

"Miss Y/l/n?" An assistance appeared behind you, wearing pajama-like clothing making you wish you were them just because of how early it was. "That's me." "Right in here." They led you to an office room, though there was only a desk covered in papers and the walls lined with movie and TV art and décor.

The rest of the room had easels and different sized canvases against the walls and laid on the ground, tarps on the floor with paint covering every corner. Jars of different colors and paint brushes laid about on different carts and shelves.

"She had to leave but she should be back in a moment. She said though, you can sit there while you wait."

The person pointed at a stood that was set up across from an empty easel, a very dim light pointed at the stool.

"Alright, thank you." They nodded and left, closing the door behind them leaving you alone in the silence to admire the painters area.

Spaceships hung from the ceilings in one of the corners, little figurines and action figures on the walls and done up to look cool instead of just sitting there. But some were still in boxes making you wonder if she collected them or would eventually sell them. Judging by the room though, collector for sure.

You sat down with a racing mind, messing with your fingers while you waited. You liked the warmth the office brought, it was like a child's daydream and it made you smile.

This person definitely had an eye for the arts.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." A girl then stumbled in through the door, her black tank top covered in colors that were probably not there when she bought it, as well as her blue jeans and shoes.

Her grown out mullet pushed back from her face that only showed stress. Arms lined with paint and markings, some of it even looked like dry clay making you wonder what kind of things she'd made besides paintings.

"Fuck, I shouldn't cuss. Sorry." You laughed, finally catching her attention but not her eyes.

"I don't mind, everything alright?" "You know, it's early, people are tired, you might accidentally drop something. But a perfectly good fucking vase someone spent hours making should not be one of them."

You clenched your teeth, feeling familiar with her frustration while watching her grab a few things from her desk drawers.

"Yeah, I agree. But I've also broken bones this early in the morning, so, I should not be talking." The girl laughed, rummaging for something and then grabbing an expensive looking camera and opening the bottom of it.

"How long you been doing this?" "Uh, couple years now. Fresh out of college." She stood up turning around but not looking up. "Something that I liked besides playing video games." You giggled. "Same. But with acting and you know, the other stuff."

Finally she looked up, meeting your eyes and then seeing your smile. The morning sunrise reflecting off your irises and skin, making you glow more than you already were before the window had assisted you.

She found herself at a loss for words as you continued to talk.

"I'm Y/n, by the way, but I mean by slight chance you don't already know that. I do hate saying that though, makes me seem like I've got a big head."

The girl didn't respond for a moment, suddenly nodding and humming.

"Yeah, no, I know you. Dina- my friend- loves you. Big 'Walking Dead' fan." Ellie felt stupid in the moment, thinking you probably thought she was an idiot especially when you chuckled, covering your mouth lightly with your hand.

"Aw, that's sweet. Tell her I love her too." You winked, Ellie still struggling to speak. "Yeah, for sure. I'm Ellie by the way! Probably should've said that when I walked in."

Ellie whispered a few curses under her breath while switching the settings on the light, trying to avoid your stare that was still on her.

"Heard you were one of the best at creating stuff like this." "Really?" She choked, making you laugh with a shake of your head. "Yep. Inclined to agree, you seem cool and cool people are talented. Even if they don't know it."

"Thanks, just doing my job."

Face palm, Ellie, c'mon get it together.

"So, anything you need me to do?" Ellie stood back, hanging the camera strap around her neck while stepping in front of you.

"Just, turn this way." Her hands brushed your shoulders while you positioned yourself, noticing how close she was when she knelt down. Adjusting your limbs to look as perfect as possible.

"Chin up, like this." Her finger went under your chin making butterflies erupt in your stomach. You weren't going to lie to yourself, she was attractive, very attractive. Somewhere inside your head hoping to all that would listen that this wouldn't be your last time seeing her.

"Just like that." She muttered, making the nervousness you felt in the tense room even worse than it already was. "Better?" "Yeah, perfect."

Ellie then adjusted your outfit and look, backing up to make sure it was perfect.

To her, with the lighting, you already looked like a portrait.

"How do I look?" You questioned, eye flickering up to meet her green ones. "Good.. good, yeah." "I mean in terms of beauty on this Monday morning, c'mon. Am I just, 'good'?" Ellie froze up, grabbing her camera to distract herself.

"I guess you're pretty."

"Wow, I'm so getting your ass fired."

You both laughed, Ellie getting down to the level she wanted for the picture while aiming the camera at you.

"Just stay still." You heard the camera click a few times, wondering to yourself if she ever got sick of looking at some ones face for hours on end. She then stood up, looking down at the photos.

"Perfect, stay like that though, just wanna make sure I get the-"

"Outline?" "Yeah."

"Ever get sick of staring at the same picture?"

"Not if it's you."

It just slipped out, Ellie panicking as soon as it happened. Her face burning red while she grabbed the canvas she had set aside for your portrait. Swallowing hard when you breathed a laugh.

"I knew you thought I was more than just 'good'. Was that an attempt at a flirt? Because if so, it definitely landed."

"Good to know I've still got it." She picked up her pencil, smirking at you when you giggled, trying your best to keep your pose.

"What's it like being you?" Ellie then asked, beginning to draw the shape of your head. "Eh, not all it's chalked up to be. Scary sometimes. Awesome most times. Lonely.."

"All the time?" You shook your head slightly making your earrings move. "No. Dating fucking sucks though."

Ellie snorted, quickly following up with a quiet 'sorry' making you grin.

"Especially when you like girls, it's an even smaller pool of fish, maybe like a puddle." "Puddle o' fish?" "My favorite dating app."

You could hear the pencil against the white surface, going both quickly and precisely, her eyes moving to you and back to the work in progress.

You shifted just barely, eyes scanning over her desk once again, admiring her green rolling chair. It looked kind of like yours at home, the color just different, but the design all the same.

"I get it though, sometimes I even wonder if the light is too bright." You laughed to yourself, Ellie even chuckling at your words.

"I just don't like paparazzi because I know I look like shit on camera." Ellie then said, making you snort and barely cover your mouth before returning to your pose.

"I beg to differ." "Trust me, you wouldn't differ if you seen some of the photos my friends have." You giggled again, hearing her pencil moving slower now against the the sketch.

"They're idiots though." "Just like mine, my dorks are a hivemind of morons." Ellie nodded in agreeance, smiling. "What's it like being you?" You questioned, Ellie erasing something from the sketch.

"Eh, probably a slower life compared to yours. I get a lot of freedom. Get to do shit on my own time. I like making stuff, art." Looking around the room you realized a lot of the décor was her own, by her hand.

"I wish I could do that." "You do, in a different way." "How poetic, Ellie."

She wished she could hear her name pass your lips again and again. Something about the way you said it, like a sickeningly sweet hum.

Your eyes danced to the clock, noticing the time was becoming less and less, the sinking feeling of your departure creeping up your back.

"You gotta go?" Ellie asked, noticing your stare on the two hands pointing at their respective digits. "Not right this minute, but soon." "Might need you again."

No she wouldn't, not actually. But seeing you again was definitely on her bucket list.

"If I'm not on set, I'm available. Usually. For you though, I'll make time." You joked, copying her flirtatious nature from before. "Fuck me." She whispered with reddened cheeks, unheard by you, or at least she hoped.

"Yeah, I'll make sure to hunt you down." "Is that a promise?" Ellie felt like a school girl talking to her first crush, hoping the canvas hid her face well enough. "You bet it is."

You glanced at the time again, more minutes having passed.

"Times up Michelangelo. The camera needs me." Ellie felt a pang of disappointment, finishing up the near perfect outline of your upper half. "Alright, alright. I'm done with you, for now."

"Make me look pretty, 'kay?" "Can't fix what's not broken."

You picked up the bottom of your dress with a grin, standing up from the stool. Dusting off the long skirt as if anything had gotten on it.

"See you later?" You practically asked, walking towards the door with little happiness. "Door's always open."

"I'll take that as a yes, I'll be back to check on the painting."

"I'm counting on it." "Better be."

A/n: Argh ( in pirate )

#ellie the last of us #ellie #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou 2 #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou x reader #tlou x you

[theprettynosferatu]

I

The gigantic metal beast landed with a thud. Not the most graceful of homecomings, thought the handler. It didn’t matter, of course. No damage to the mech, four enemies down, a few needless but thrilling maneuvers for the video drone capturing every moment. A successful mission any way one cut it. The handler looked up from the screens, towards the solid, tangible reality of his ward.

Even after years together, even after a hundred missions, the sight never failed to impress. Himiko emerged from the cockpit drenched in sweat, every curve of her body glistening under the hangar lights. She stretched. This was a performance too, even if she didn’t know it. Her booty shorts and miniscule top were as much a necessity as an asset, and her “dismounts” were something of a phenomenon among the viewers. 

Every second in the cockpit was filmed, every motion in combat captured from several angles, every landing documented to be masterfully edited and broadcast to the population. She was a soldier on two fronts: fighting the rebellion while also being someone the company could parade in front of everyone, someone people could root for, someone they could obsess over. Better to have them focused on her skin, those shorts, her beautiful face. Even her mech, the Enkidu, was part of her brand: it was an older model, a classic -or a relic, depending on one’s point of view- that tended to be particularly punishing for pilots. The goddamn thing was an oven, relying on overheating systems for sudden bursts of enhanced performance with minimal heat dispersal to spare the operator. Hence, booty shorts and top. The effect was simple, eloquent: she was a warrior, an underdog willing to do whatever it took to destroy a more advanced enemy. Underdogs were good. People cheered for them. 

The handler shuddered. If Himiko knew he had been the one to suggest her brand…

Well, there were many things Himiko didn’t know, and every asset needed a brand, a simple phrase that could be marketed, displayed, sold. “Sexy, rebellious underdog”. Everything orbited that one concept. Her clothing, her public appearances, even her fighting style. She was as artificial as her mech and didn’t even know it. Damn it.

The handler chased the feeling away. Things would be worse for Himiko without him. He was good to her. Hell, compared to other handlers he was downright angelic, if the stories were true. Even the whole “underdog” gimmick was… mild, next to what other pilots were saddled with. The company had to cater to many tastes, after all. “Ruthless, cold bombshell”. “Cheery, optimistic angel”. “Seductive, psychotic killer”. A pilot for every desire, and joint missions were true events, advertised and promoted with taglines like “...But can they work together?”, or “Angel and Demon together!”. The strategic purpose of such missions was a secondary priority, if it was a priority at all.

Yes, “rebellious underdog” wasn’t that bad, all things considered. The handler went down to the launching bay.  

“I fucked up with that second mech”

“It still went down, didn’t it?”

“Messed up my aim. I Could have downed him quicker. Fuck!”

Himiko was one of the few pilots allowed to swear. It fit her brand. Well, truth was Himiko was one of the few pilots able to swear, but that wasn’t something the handler liked to think about.

“May I shower?”, she asked.

“You may”, he replied.

Himiko flashed him a quick smile and headed for her quarters. The handler watched her leave. He wondered, as he had done so many times before, if he was the only one that could see something between sadness and rage in her eyes.

II

“We were going with something like… ‘Guts and Glamour’, when the op was just Himiko and Adrian, but now that Ruby’s part of the whole thing…”, said the handler.

“‘Guts and Glamour’? Really?”, scoffed Mark.

“You know them marketing boys like their alliteration, Mark. We work with what we got”, added Katrina, a bit offended.

‘Guts and Glamour’ had been her idea, in fact. A bit on the facile side, but the handler had to admit his partner had nailed it on the head. Katrina was rough, but one of the best, after all: that was why she had been saddled with Adrian. “Vain, cocksure prettyboy”, had been the concept and the pilot delivered in spades, which was a blessing and a curse. He was easy to hate as much as he was easy to desire. The company liked to try some “hate that you love them” concepts every now and then. They thought it was a complex character. A pain in the ass for a handler, that’s what it was. Sometimes the public saw their skills and were won over. Other times…

Well, tragic deaths were quite moving too.

Ruby, on the other hand, was a tried and true idea. Fiery, sexy redhead. Not much to do with that, but her genetics did the heavy lifting. Something for the basic teen boys.

“Right, right. Well, Maybe we can keep it. Ruby’s glamorous too”, said Mark.

“Nah. Won’t work. Three pilots, ain’t it? We need three keywords, short, punchy. And I don’t think we have a third ‘G’ word to throw in there. And Ruby has… no offense, but I wouldn’t call it glamour, exactly. I mean, not your fault, bud. But…”, trailed off Katrina.

“No offense taken. We aren’t shooting for high class with Ruby. What you see is what you get, pretty much. And she loves to let people see”, replied Mark.

“You sure got lucky with the whole heat gimmick, right? Himiko can show off and still come across as tough”

It took a moment for the handler to realize Katrina was talking to him. He poured himself another drink, and saw the other two handlers onscreen joining him in a toast across space.

“I guess”, mumbled the handler.

“You know, I don’t know what’s better: fucking the hot redhead everyone thinks is slutty, or being the only one that knows how freaky the rebel girl can get”, giggled Mark.

“Come on, man. That’s the kind of joke that gives handlers a bad rep”, said the handler.

Silence stretched, infinite, plastic.

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, man. You tapped that, and you know it”, retorted Mark.

“Say what you will about Adrian, but he makes up for his preening with some stamina”, said Katrina.

“Stop it. It’s not funny”, muttered the handler, shifting in his seat.

“We’re not being funny. This shit ain’t for broadcast, pal. Save the PC shit for official events. It’s just us shooting the shit, here”, said Katrina.

“Wait. You don’t really… you know…”

“Fuck my pilot? Eight days a week, cowboy. Jesus, are you bullshitting me right now? It’s like, the one benefit we have. Sure, it’s not on the fucking brochures, but come on! We have genetically enhanced clones that are programmed to obey and designed to be hot! You think the company doesn’t know what’s bound to happen? Nature’s gonna nature, I say. And it’s not like they’re… people-people, you know?” said the woman on the screen.

“They’re clones, sure, but… they’re still people”, said the handler.

“You mean to say you never thought about it?”, asked Mark.

“Think about it… I mean, I guess. Like… you can have fantasies about anyone, right? But fantasies are one thing and… doing shit is another”, said the handler.

Katrina laughed.

“So let me get this straight: you’re all alone in your compartment, jerkin’ it to a girl that’s right fucking there, next door over, and who would do whatever you told her to do if only you had the balls to command her? God, that’s pathetic. You have a feast in front of ya and keep eating those saltine crackers from ration packs, honey. Okay, real talk: are you gay, or ace, or…”

“No. Bi, actually”, said the handler in anger. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t wrong to…”

“See, I think I get the issue. I’ve seen it a couple of times. Clones are not like you and me. Clones obey. And they don’t feel bad about it, because they can’t not obey, feel me? It’s just the way they’re made, you know? She wouldn’t feel violated or… I don’t know, used. Not in any degree above what happens whenever you send her on a mission. She’s designed for it. It’s all she knows and all she can know. And if we are being honest… let me ask you a question: are you scared for her when it looks like a mission is gonna go tits up? Are you anxious when you give her a combat plan and don’t know if it’s the best course of action?”, asked Mark.

“Of course”

“Me too. Every single time Ruby goes inside that mech I’m sweating bullets. I care about her. It’s my job to make her thrive, man. That’s what we do. You know who’s never scared going into combat? Ruby, or Adrian, or Himiko. Can you imagine that? Climbing into a big ass combat mech and not being terrified? But they’re not like us, and you know what? I kinda envy them. They are at peace. They have their missions, and the complete, unshakable focus to do their best every time. Combat, a photoshoot, an ad… same to them. Just missions. They don’t have to make choices, or suffer the pangs of uncertainty. There’s something beautiful there. A purity. They are what they are, do what they’re assigned to do, and those two things are the same thing. They have clarity of purpose. They’re not burped into existence like the rest of us. And when I tell Ruby to wrap her huge tits around my cock and get me off, it’s another mission to her. Nothing more, nothing else. You ask me, they’re the lucky ones. So, word of advice: care for your pilot. But don’t fall for her. ‘Cause you’d be falling for a shadow”. Said Mark between drinks.

The meeting went on. The handler didn’t really pay attention to whatever title they had decided to give their joint mission in the end. 

III

The mission had been a success. In the end the marketing people had decided to play up the “one guy, two girls” angle. Would love blossom on the battlefield? The people saw Ruby saving Adrian from a cowardly sneak attack. The flirting had been heavy and constant. Of course, Ruby had made no such heroic save, but editing could perform miracles. 

The handler was glad Himiko hadn’t been picked to move the romance plot forward. Sure, affairs between pilots existed only for the cameras, in parades and interviews, but still. Himiko’s brand wasn’t appropriate for such things. But if he was being honest, it wasn’t the sanctity of the image that bothered him. He had been with Himiko from the beginning. He had designed her brand, advised on her fighting style, added flair and soul to the character. Himiko belonged to the company, sure, but in a creative way, Himiko was his. The strong girl in the posters and vids, the firebrand adored by millions… he had created that, as much as the geeks at the genetic farms. Perhaps even more.

The handler couldn’t say when he had gotten out of bed and walked out of his room. He found himself in the hallway, steps away from the pilot’s compartment. She -it- would be there. His creation. His product. Hours of work, gallons of sweat and tears and anxiety and effort put into her… into making her a phenomenon, beloved by millions. And what did he get? He was anonymous. He was a shadow- worse, a shadow of a shadow, unrecognized, unrewarded.  

The door slid shut and Himiko went instantly to her feet. Pilots were light sleepers by design, always ready. They slept in the nude, so they could get into their outfits instantly. Shame was not something they felt, less of all in front of their handlers.

“Do we have a mission?”, she asked.

The handler paused, entranced by the soft curves of her pilot. It didn't matter how much he saw of her, it always made an impact somewhere primal, deep inside his soul. No, not her. The product, he reminded himself. The word escaped his lips before he could stop it.

“Kneel”

There was a moment there, barely longer than a lightning strike. Himiko’s eyes flashed with confusion, a hint of outrage, and then set on complete, focused determination as she went down on her knees. She looked up at the handler, ready to obey. The handler felt almost drunk, giddy. So many men and women looked up to this girl, adored her, saw her as a role model and object of desire… and now she looked up at him. It was intoxicating.

“Remove my underwear”

She did so with the efficiency of a close quarters combat expert. He barely had to shift to let her cast the fabric aside. One part of him couldn’t believe it was this easy, even as inside him a quieter, stifled side of himself screamed. It was too late to go back.

“Suck my cock”

What followed was akin to vertigo, beyond anything he had ever felt before. He couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes. The handler wasn’t a virgin, but he might as well have been. Himiko took to her mission with the zeal and determination of a true warrior, changing speeds, pressure, angle, using her tongue, her lips, her throat. The handler felt something in the base of his spine, an orgasm building from somewhere deeper than anything he had experienced in his life. Overcome by the maelstrom of sensation, he had for a moment forgotten what was happening, sent hurling away from reality by the pilot’s skills. His eyes snapped open.

He saw Himiko. Strong, fierce Himiko. Her expression was one he had seen a thousand times in the cockpit, the focus of an operator in that special zone where only the mission existed, where only her objective mattered. He saw a programmed response, and a reminder of what she really was. Of what he was doing.

“Stop”, he muttered. She instantly did. He caught his breath.

“Could you… could you pretend to enjoy it? Like… like you… want me?” God, he felt pathetic. The feeling, however, lasted only a second. Himiko smiled, a smile no one had ever seen before, a smile that didn’t fit any poster or propaganda piece. It was mischievous, flirty, like they were accomplices in a secret, loving affair. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t real. She made it feel real to him.

She made him feel special.

Suddenly there was a sense of fun, of warmth to her actions. She moaned and purred with every lick, teasing him, smiling and biting her lips, making him feel as if for that moment his pleasure was her pleasure, that he was all that existed, that his cock was the most beautiful, most entrancing thing in the universe. His moans mixed with hers as she worshiped him with her mouth, her hands, her breasts. It was sex and devotion, fun and partnership, lust and love. It was too easy to believe it all, too perfect to resist. The handler wanted the moment to last, forever if at all possible. When he told Himiko to get on the bed, she leaped in joy and looked at him as she stretched on the mattress, eyes full of anticipation, a teasing challenge to her lover. 

He dove into her arms. He kissed her stomach, her perfect thighs, her neck. He wanted her, wanted to devour her, to be with her and for her to be his, totally and completely. He wanted them to belong to each other, to seal a partnership that had, in his mind, been growing for years. Her shallow breathing, her whimpers and soft moans begged him to do it, to take what was rightfully his. His hand softly caressed the inside of her thigh, barely touching it, moving upwards slowly, savoring every second. When he felt the wetness between her legs, he couldn’t help but wonder if that too was a conditioned response. He pushed the thought aside and let himself drown in her lips.

She was tight, and he managed to stop himself, teasing her clit. He didn’t want to hurt her. It occurred to him that Himiko was, in fact, a virgin. He would be careful. He would be gentle. He would take it slow. 

But she was a warrior on a mission. 

“Do it”, she said, panting. “Take me. Fuck me. Use me! I’ve seen you looking at me… my ass, my tits, my face… they’re all yours. Yours. Stop being a pussy and fucking ram that big cock inside me! I want it… I want you to treat me like your whore, your toy, whatever the fuck you want… just give me that cock! Please!”

The handler didn’t know if Himiko had been studying him, gathering information for precisely such an event, but it didn’t really matter. She knew exactly what to say, exactly how to say it, with a mixture of begging and demanding, commanding and submissive at the same time. She knew what to say to blow away any lingering hesitation, to obliterate any morality that might be holding him back. He entered her with fury, with anger, with lust, with the strength of years of repressed emotions and confused feelings behind him. Her legs surrounded him, brought him closer as she came with a melody of moans and tiny screams. Her nails dig into his back. The pain was the one thing that kept him from cumming. Had that been luck or a calculated move on her part?

With all her martial skill, she reversed positions and got on top. 

“My turn”, she smiled.

He had fantasized about this moment for years. Himiko showed him just how limited his imagination was. She was mercurial, flowing from one position to another, from one attitude to another. She was whimpering and fighting against her own pleasure one moment, pinning him down and riding him with a wicked smile the next; she feigned innocence on second and then delivered babbling, perverted barrages of dirty talk without missing a beat. She made the bed feel like a playground where everything went, everything was allowed. She made him feel safe. Wanted. 

Eventually, exhaustion got the better of him. Unlike Himiko, he was a simple handler, not a trained fighter. He fell asleep in her arms, postponing the inevitable reckoning with what he had done for a handful of peaceful, perfect hours.

IV

The handler called in every favor he had. Burned a few bridges, too. It was necessary, he told himself. It was for Himiko, he told himself. It was the right thing to do, he told himself. Anything to make the voice inside his head shut up for a few seconds. 

As a handler he had access to general genetic records: after all, he needed to know what his pilot was capable of, what enhancements had been made to her. There were other bits of information, however, that only the people at the genetic farms had and guarded jealously. But after a solid two weeks of begging, threatening and cajoling, he had managed to get a copy of what he needed, an answer to the question that had been tormenting him- and now he lingered, too scared to open the files. 

Himiko was a clone. But somewhere out there there was an original. Or maybe there had been one, long ago. Whoever Himiko was made from was probably an old woman living in secluded luxury. That was the standard deal: a comfortable life of complete anonymity for the donors. They were usually athletes, sometimes models or soldiers, sometimes people with very specific characteristics that might appeal in a pilot, given a few adjustments. The handler didn’t know what would be worse: to find out the original was out in the world, or to find out Himiko’s genes had been taken from an old blueprint and the original had passed away. He just knew he needed to know, because Himiko deserved to know. Not that the pilot had asked, of course. But he needed to… do something for her. Yes, do something big for Himiko. That would make the voice shut the hell up.

He opened the files and started reading, a terrible dread growing in his chest.

Sample obtained through Rebirth Protocol.

It was there in black and white: a rumor discarded by almost everyone, embraced only by the most fringe of lunatics. And it was real. The Rebirth Protocol. Forced acquisition of samples from captured rebels before their executions.

Himiko’s original had never lived a life of peace and comfort. She had been a rebel. A fighter, like her clone. One battling the company at every turn, transformed into an obedient asset in an act of perverted, vengeful poetry. And he had been complicit. He had made Himiko one of the most recognizable faces of the company, a key pillar in its efforts in the battlefield and in the war on the minds of the people.    

The handler threw up. He copied the files to his personal device, shaking. He could feel his determination wavering. No. He had to show her, and he had to show her immediately.

Himiko smiled as he entered. The handler felt terrible for issuing that particular order. Knowing what he knew, the smile felt like a dagger. 

“Himiko, look at this”, he said, pulling up the files on the screen. It was all there. Himiko’s original name. Pictures taken during captivity. Video of her flying a rebel mech. He looked at the pilot. Something was stirring inside her, he knew it.

“She looks like me”, muttered Himiko.

“She is you. In a manner of speaking. But… you were…”

“I was a rebel. I… Permission to speak freely?”

“Granted! Fucking granted!”

“I feel… something. Anger… no, not anger. It’s more… righteous. A fire. We… I… refused. Refused to be under the boot of the company… we… there was more to life. More to being a person than just working and consuming and… Why? Why do I remember these things?”

“I’m not sure. If you were a rebel pilot, it’s possible they copied not just your DNA but some of your neural pathway patterns, to transfer combat experience into… your new self. Maybe she… you, the real you… is still in there somewhere. Kei. Your name was Kei”

Himiko was crying without moving a muscle. Tears rolled down her perfect face.

“Kei…” she muttered.

“You are Kei”

“I am…”

An eternal pause.

“I am Himiko, pilot for the company”, came the emotionless response.

“No! You don’t have to be! You were a proud fighter and can be that again! We can… we can leave. We can escape, together. Disappear. Go to some forgotten corner of the galaxy, and…”

“Pilots are not allowed to travel without company authorization”

The handler stormed out of the room.

Sleepless nights on unauthorized communication channels, places where the company couldn’t snoop. Editors uploaded outtakes of pilots messing up, or candid footage of pilots in showers and locker rooms. Handlers shared the… art they had compelled their pilots to make, a notion he would have refused to believe not long before. Gene freaks debated new techniques, mulled over the possibilities of more extreme genetic modification. And the handler read it all, looking for the answer to a singular question: was there a way to break the conditioning?

He wasn’t the first handler to wonder that, he discovered. A few before him had been shouted down, accused of being potential rebels. Some had gotten tidbits of information, ways in which perhaps, in theory, the compulsions could be lessened, if not erased entirely.

He tried them all. Flashing lights. Shock diet. Memory regression. Hypnosis. More and more Himiko was becoming like her other self, like Kei. And yet, after every attempt, he issued a single command.

“Slap yourself”

She did so. Every single time.

“I’m sorry”, she said.

He was on his knees, his head on her lap, sobbing. It was pointless. The company had her, and by having her, they had him. There would be no escaping, no happy ending in their own secluded corner of the world. Only dreaming.

Maybe dreaming wasn’t so bad. One could get lost in a beautiful dream. Perhaps even forget it was a dream, every now and then. That was the best they could hope for: to steal small moments of counterfeit happiness from a world too miserly, too cruel to allow the real thing to thrive. Didn’t Himiko deserve those moments, that respite? Didn’t he deserve them too?

Defeated, he rose to his feet. The handler looked at the pilot’s sad eyes.

“Himiko… love me”, he commanded. 

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

Imagine: The Scarlet Witch invades your city in search of her children, but you react differently to her. (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff/Yandere!Scarlet Witch x autistic!fem!reader)

Summary: Everyone's made fun of you. Bullied you. Abused you. You don't really think like others. It's just how your brain was wired. By this point, you didn't think much good could come from it.

But that may just capture the heart of a powerful witch.

(CW: Mention of bullying/isolation, hypnosis)

Author’s Note: My laptop is really starting to break down, just like me mentally and emotionally. 

A loud set of screams interrupts your quiet time in your first-floor apartment, startling you.

Looking outside your window, you see people running away from something, including some of those who’ve bullied you for your autism. (which is a bit satisfying to see, you won’t lie)

“What’s going on?” you wonder aloud.

That’s what you see them, following the scared crowd; it’s a figure decked out in a dark red outfit.

“That’s what everyone’s afraid of?” You’re confused as fuck, so you decide to go outside to check out the scene. As you get closer, you can make out the figure more clearly; a woman with long hair that seems to be made of fire. Her hands are glowing with a scarlet aura. It’s....actually a bit relaxing to look at and you find yourself entranced by its smooth movements; it’s like it’s performing a ballet. Slowly you find yourself getting closer, staying fixated on the aura.

“Wow....” you gasp as you approach her hand.

“What are you doing?”

A voice nearby snaps you from your trance. You look up to see the woman with a hardened expression.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I was just fixated on that glow in your hand. It’s beautiful, and honestly kinda calming as well.”

The hardened expression softens a bit.

“....You’re not running from me,” she notes.

“Why would I be?” you ask. “You don’t scare me.”

Her expression turns back to stone and her head tilts.

“Is that a challenge?” An Eastern European accent appears in her voice.

“No,” you say matter-of-factly. “I just don’t feel afraid of you. You’re not causing any trouble, you’re just....here existing.”

The tilt retracts and her anger turns into a mixture of confusion and fascination.

“You’re a very odd girl,” she notes.

You shrug.

“Comes with the ‘tisms.”

“The what?”

“Oh, I’m autistic. My mind is.....well, it’s different from other people’s brains.”

“I see....”

“Yep,” you nod. “Kinda got bullied and isolated for it. A lot. Still do. I....basically have no friends.”

“Why would they bully you?”

You shrug.

“I guess they’re afraid of what they don’t understand, you know?”

At that moment, her expression softens almost completely.

“Yes.....” she says quietly. “I do know....”

In her mind, something switches. Here you are, a fellow misunderstood soul, with not even a single companion. Someone who’s not afraid of her, someone who didn’t immediately run when you saw her, but rather....you were fascinated by her. She can’t remember the last time she’s met someone who didn’t fear her or treat her like a criminal.

“You’re really pretty too, you know.” Your compliment both jolts her from her thoughts and solidifies her decision. There’s no way she’s leaving you here. Her heart is pounding furiously and she comes up with an idea.

“Would you like to see some more of my aura?” she asks.

You nod eagerly.

“Please? Those screams I heard earlier kinda stressed me out.”

She gives a smile and moves her hands to conjure more in front of your face. Her hand movements begin to fascinate you as well.

“Holy shit, that’s beautiful,” you whisper, your eyes widening in awe. “It’s like your fingers are dancing.”

You begin to find yourself hyperfixating on the magic and on her hands, just as she hoped you would. Soft whispers invade your mind, but you’re unable to make out what they’re saying, nor do you really care about what they’re saying. Slowly your eyes gloss over as the hands and magic play over and over again in your mind.

You almost fall down on the road, but the Scarlet Witch catches you and sweeps you up bridal style, holding you close and protectively.

“Sweet, sweet girl....my sweet, sweet girl,” she whispers as she flies away with you. 

“You’ll never be hurt or unloved ever again....”

#yandere wanda maximoff x fem!reader #yandere wanda maximoff x autistic reader #autistic!reader #autistic reader #actually autistic #yandere wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff #yandere #marvel #Avengers #yandere avengers #yandere marvel

[prettyrealm]

monsta x i.m ideal type reading

this reading is a paid commission, thank you so much for trusting in me! <3

overall:

someone highly attractive & well respected/admirable. someone kind, but unfriendly (the type of woman who is nice to everyone, but isn’t friends with everyone - she keeps a distance), someone who knows what they’re doing, follows her heart and knows how to pick her battles well (can prioritize), someone upfront who doesn’t mask how they feel when it comes to him (he would prefer you to be direct), someone charismatic with a vibe that can capture him and a look that he deems “exotic” (so maybe a diff race/ethnicity or nationality than what he’s use to), someone secure that doesn’t depend on him too much, but at the same time, i think he wants someone who would give themselves to him completely and almost blindly (cutting off people & giving up things/interests for him, obsessing over him quickly), someone who trusts in him completely, someone chill & non-confrontational (doesn’t like the aggressive types), someone who tries to keep themselves looking young or someone with a youthful vibe/personality, someone with a unique or more edgy look/personal style (by edgy I don’t mean an emo or rocker look necessarily, just something different)

turn ons:

when someone is influential or a trendsetter (like if all the girls are copying her and wanna be her or something, he finds this kind of attractive), high self-esteem, he may prefer to get with other artists or entertainers, someone fun who likes to enjoy good times with him, when someone has a nice voice and speaks well, when someone is observant and isn’t easily fooled by others, when someone is independent can can handle things on their own (or is good at controlling emotions), “pick-me’s” or women who don’t like or get along with other women/women who prioritize and center men, when someone is very physically attractive, when someone has a high sex drive or is ready whenever he is, small/petite women, cute/soft face (like fluffy cheeks), strong emphasis on cute & natural appearance (minimal makeup and no sexy vibe) & on the heavier/curvier side.

turn offs:

jealousy and when someone lets other people come between a relationship, infidelity (i don’t think he’d ever give a cheater a chance) when someone brings drama or messy people into his life, when someone is too forward or comes on too strong, aggressiveness & self righteousness, i don’t think he likes when his partners are too concerned with social/political issues, cold blooded people, highly emotional people, when someone isn’t really working towards anything or doesn’t have a goal they’re trying to reach in life - indecisiveness, someone he sees as overindulgent (too promiscuous, too into parties, too into food etc), someone too religious or spiritual/someone & doesn’t practice what they preach, preachy people in general, i think he’s picky about breast size (doesn’t like too small or big), when someone tries too hard to stand out, when someone is overweight, when someone is older or has an older or more mature appearance, & tall height.

#tarot #kpop tarot #kpop readings #kpop #celebrity tarot reading #celebrity tarot #ideal type #i.m #monsta x #changkyun

[daaydreamy]

love is foolish (and so addictive)

summary: love is complex, yet also simple. love is confusing.

warnings: none.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

•••

They were just so gone for each other.

Harry hadn’t dated many people before he met Y/N. He tried new things, dipped his toe in the water to check the temperature, but it just never felt right. Despite not knowing what true love even really felt like, or not really believing in it for a while, it just never felt right then. It was confusing, but Harry decided to let time tick by, let the moon fall and sun rise. He had a few one-night stands, but he didn’t really mind them all that much, as he had only been with those people for one single night, which were all nights dedicated to sex. So, all in all, Cupid hadn’t aimed just right enough.

Y/N was quite similar. She hadn’t dated lots of people, always just quietly watching her other friends get partners of their own that they were so dedicated to. She thought it was a little stupid, being so obsessed and addicted to someone, letting your happiness come from them. She could make herself happy, and lots of other things could also make her happy, and she thought it was sort of funny to watch how much people depended on each other for support.

Harry changed her mind.

God, it was like he was some drug she had gotten addicted to and she couldn’t stop. He was intoxicating. Harry could say the exact same about her. She had planted herself into his heart and slowly started growing all throughout him until delicate flowers were sprouting from his skin.

Love fucks you up.

But it fucks you up in the good way. Waking up beside someone, especially with their arms wrapped around you like the safest blanket you could ever have, is something else. Love makes you forget about morning breath. It just makes everything seem so special in some kind of way. Even mundane things like brushing your teeth together, looking at each other through the mirror and giggling around your toothbrushes with toothpaste-filled mouths.

Sometimes Harry and Y/N were so icky, so sickeningly sweet with each other. They tried to tone it down whenever they were with friends, of course, but sometimes they couldn’t help themselves. But especially when they were by themselves, in a place they call home, they’re all over each other. Whether it be stroking each other’s hair, taking a nap together on the couch, bumping hips and brushing each other’s hands “accidentally” while cooking in the kitchen, they just couldn’t stop.

Love like that can make you grimace from afar, but up close, it can make you stupidly happy.

“God, you’re so annoying!” Y/N laughed, and despite what she had just said, she leaned in and gave Harry a chaste kiss. He laughed as well and wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her close, pressing his lips to hers, kissing her longer, his lips eventually tugging up at the corners once more.

“You love me.” He murmured against her lips.

“Do I?”

“Very much, yes.” He replied cheekily and she smiled, “And I love you too.”

They trusted each other so, so much. They’ve shared so many intimate moments, whether it be through sex or tears falling down their cheeks. They told each other everything, because they weren’t scared to. They never felt an ounce of nervousness around each other, no rushes of fear that made their hearts race.

Harry could write a million sonnets about her by hand and sure, it’d get sore, but so would his cheeks from smiling so much as he did. He didn’t know what she did to him. She captured him, took every single part of him, and god was he glad. Even just looking at her made him happy. Hearing her voice was the most relaxing thing he ever felt. He could listen to her ramble on for hours, days, and he would never get tired of it. He would probably have a soft smile on his face the entire time, too.

Harry still gave Y/N those stupid fluttery butterflies and a warm heart. She just wanted to spend all of her time with him, to do nothing and bask in his presence. Sure, she loved going out on little dates with him and such, but there was nothing like doing nothing with him.

Harry was sure he was going to be happy with her for the rest of the life, and Y/N felt the exact same way. Even when they’re all old and wrinkly and can barely walk (or move, old people are weird), they’d probably still be all over each other, pressing kisses all over every inch of skin they could reach.

a/n: short, i know, but i thought we’d start the year off with some loving! inspired by nothing - bruno major :)

🏷: @crow-i-guess, @girlintrauma, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @sweet-as-lilacs, @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun111, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @emispleased, @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @niallhoranshotgf, @sad1esgf, @taylorsreputationsversion, @violetsandfluff, @purplefishingline, @a-strange-familiar, @moonlightbea-33 (couldn’t tag you!), @famedrs-blog, @coochiesteak, @blahblahblah-888 (couldn’t tag you!), @milesisntdonewritingyet, @cherrycoucou18, (couldn’t tag you!), @alexxavicry, @harrysgoth

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #writing #Spotify

[tiannasfanfic]

Black No. 1

Eddie Munson x Fem!GothReader (Fluff HCS)

The entire school was in shock when they finally got their very own hot goth girl.

But that was nothing compared to the shock of Eddie “The Freak” Munson nabbing said hot goth girl within a few days of her arrival to the school.

“How???” Garett hissed at Eddie not long after you became his girlfriend.

“When I figure that out, I’ll let you know!” Eddie hissed back.

Truth be told, Eddie didn’t actually have anything to do with it, but fuck if he was complaining.

Right out the gate on your first day, Eddie noticed you. He couldn’t help it, he had three classes with you.

You managed to catch his gaze with yours during all three classes to smile warmly at him. Eddie got fluttery feeling every time.

Then Eddie almost had a heart attack that same day at lunch when you came straight to his table and asked to sit with them.

So did all the rest of the guys at the Hellfire table.

Actually, so did several other tables that had been hoping for your presence, including the jock table. The cute and mysterious goth girl had captured everyone’s attention, including Jason Carver.

Which really irritated Eddie since Jason was with Chrissy. Jason never tried to disguise it when he flirted or checked out other girls. Eddie could tell that made her uncomfortable. While him and Chrissy had grown apart over the years, he knew she deserved better.

Two days later, you started asking Eddie for a ride home from school. He was all too happy to say yes, eager for the extra time with you. Eventually he started offering to pick you up on the way to school.

Your house was about ten miles out of the way, but Eddie didn’t care.

A week later, you gave Eddie a mixtape, saying it was some songs you loved. While he was in the process of making one for you, the fact you put the effort in for him blew him away.

He didn’t really understand…well, anything about the music at first but tried his damnedest since it meant a lot to you.

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t a good idea for you to lead with “Bella Lugosi’s Dead” as the very first song when trying to get a metalhead into goth music.

But by the time Eddie got to the rest of your selections, he really found himself appreciating this new style he’d never heard of. It seemed as varied as metal music, which he could appreciate, and some even toed the line into metal, which he definitely appreciated.

But it wasn’t until the last song on the tape, “Love in a Void” by Siouxie and The Banshee’s, that he started wondering in you were trying to tell him something.

Eddie asked you about it the next day on the drive to school.

Instead of answering, you asked him out.

Eddie nearly drove his van off the road in shock.

The two of you were inseparable after that, you being just as over the moon for him as he is you.

Six months in, at Eddie’s insistence, Corroded Coffin had learned to play a metal cover of your favorite song.

Normally, Eddie hated doing covers, but seeing the smile on your face as the opening chords started playing at The Hideout made it all worth it.

He also made an NPC for his D&D campaigns based on you. She is a very scary, but very helpful, witch. You helped him make her as creepy as possible.

Whenever you wear fishnets, don’t expect Eddie to stop touching you anytime soon. He just loves feeling the texture difference between the slightly rough fabric and the softness of your skin.

While it may not be sexual at first, there’s no way Eddie can stop himself from getting half hard as he runs his fingers over your fishnet clad arm when you’re sitting next to him at lunch.

But when you wear lace though? Forget about doing whatever it was you were planning on. Your only shot for plans to not inexplicably change at the last minute is if you don’t let Eddie see you until you’re already out in public.

And, even then, he’ll be on the lookout for some private nook or cranny to tug you over to for a moment alone.

#eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie my beloved #eddie x reader