#barbie wire x reader

[the-s1lly-corner]

Lol can you do what Verosika, Chaz, Vox, Striker, Lute and Barbie Wire react to their S/O calling them Pookie Bear

(I specifically want their reactions to be like one sentence so it isn’t overwhelming for you to write.)

Verosika, Chaz, Vox, Striker, Lute, and Barbie Wire bejng called "pookie bear" by the reader

Usually I wouldn't take requests like this but you know what the hell? Weeoooyohh!! Sorry if some are OOC, some characters I just havent really.. explored the much prior to this <\3

Verosika- most definitely a little confused but she knows what you said after a minute. Probably into it, honestly even if it's not her favorite petname

Chaz- he thinks it's cute although he suggests you calling something else. Likely something lude or within that ballpark.. sighs..

Vox- knows what it means thanks to him always looking at what's popular as well as keeping tabs on people and their socials. He is... not a fan. He thinks its dumb. Never call him that again

Striker- does not know what you said and still doesn't when you repeat yourself. He thinks the name is dumb, kind of narrows your eyes at you everytime you call him it. Though hes not telling to you stop.. he just rolls his eyes

Lute- also doesnt know what you said, I dont think she uses social media all that much. if she does she uses it once in a blue moon. Feels.. indifference towards the name though she mentally puts it in the same category as "schnookums"

Barbie Wire- oh she does not like it. Makes it clear too. It's just not really her style, sounds too cutesy for her taste. Shuts it down very fast

[effy-writes]

I had a request

During the camp episode Blitzø finds out that Y/N was Barbie Wires girlfriend the whole time?

ofc! so sorry it’s taking long i now have 2 jobs </3 hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

barbie wire x f! reader: betrayal

you first met barbie when the two of you were in rehab. both of you been through some things but with very different situations. it’s funny how two different situations can make people do the same things and end up in rehab together. at first you two didnt talk to each other. she was trying to get help but you were forced to go there.

during the times you guys were there the two of you gotten closer and closer. she ended up telling her life story and how her twin brother killed their mom, severely injured their friend, and killed/injured others that they don’t know about. she never named drop, she didn’t want to even say his name.

you were the one to finally confess your feelings on month 1 of rehab, and she felt the same way so the two of you started dating. you would always think to yourself, “is this a good idea? two drug addicts dating each other who is trying to get better?”

you ended up getting better and stayed out of rehab, but barbie on the other hand kept getting sent back in. everytime she got out you made sure she would stay clean this time. on the times she does relapse you would “force” her to go back or at least stay clean.

barbie had to go back to rehab for another 3 months, and during those three you found a job at I.M.P. you still didn’t know your boss was the one who caused barbie to go in a spiral, and he didn’t know you were dating his sister.

a couple of months ago she called you saying she was out. you obviously asked to take off of work for an emergency (you didn’t want to tell him your girlfriend is going in and out of rehab/you met your girlfriend IN rehab). the two of you caught up and you told her about your job working as an assassin. she was shocked to see you in that field but was so happy for you. you two didn’t talk about your job, you two just mainly hung out and talked about yourselves. she also ended up getting a job at a pharmacy, which was incredible for her.

sitting in the I.M.P room you saw blitz scurry in with twigs and leaves on him and his clothes. you followed him into his office to check up on him, “You uh..you okay there?”

“yeah just fucking peachy.” he dug through his table drawers.

“You don’t sound like it. what’s up?” you sat on the chair that was across from his desk

“my fucking sister checked herself out of rehab months ago and didn’t tell me.” blitz pulled out a rotary address file.

you began thinking to yourself that this situation seems familiar. “uh..you have a sister?”

“yeah. never talked about her because it fucking hurts.”

moxxie interrupted the two of you, but blitz quickly shut him down and he left.

“what’s her name?” you hesitantly said.

“barbie.”

holy shit, ain’t no way. this is her brother who ruined her life? her brother that YOU work for? you don’t know if you should be cussing him out right now for ruining her life or if you should help him find his sister/your girlfriend. you’re actually surprised that blitz hasn’t found out your girlfriend is his sister. you never told him her name or anything about her life because she’s the one that told you not to say anything to your coworkers, and you accepted her request. blitz was talking to you but you were too busy being in your head.

“y/n? did you hear me?”

“sorry, what?”

“i said if you wanna come help me find her.”

you really wanted to say no, but the desperation in his eyes killed you. you and blitz were best friends almost, yet the two of you barely talked about your trauma. he never asked, you never asked, so it just stayed to yourselves.

“yeah, i will.”

the whole time of searching for her killed you. she hated blitz so much that she refused to show you pictures and say his name. you felt like you were betraying your own girlfriend and also betraying blitz for not telling him where she’s at.

you wanted to stop all of this but couldn’t bring yourself to it. how would she react if she saw you with blitz? how would blitz react if he found out the two of you were dating? you were a nervous wreck that you were shaking with anxiety.

finally, the two of you were on earth at a camp. huh, didn’t tell me she was gonna be here. blitz continued to searched for her by crawling on the ground (at this time, moxxie fell on top of blitz). so now blitz, him, and barbie are gonna see you different. blitz saw his sister and another guy go inside this shack.

blitz kicked open the door and there she was in her human form. you felt a lump in your throat, wanting to get out of here but you froze.

“BARBIE!”

“BLITZ!” she then looked at you. her face dropped and she laughed out of disbelief. “ain’t no fucking way.” she looked at you.

with a confused look on his face blitz looked at you, “you know her?”

“come y/n, tell him.” barbie crossed her arms.

“that’s my uh..girlfriend.” you winced.

“wait, WHAT? you didn’t fucking tell me you’re dating my sister?”

“and YOU didn’t tell me you’re working for HIM!?”

“what the fuck is going on?” moxxie looked at the human boy, who in returned shrug.

“okay let me explain myself-”

barbie cut you off, “what the FUCK y/n. why are you working for him after for what he did?”

“barbie i swear to satan that i had no idea that he was your brother until today. it never got brought up!”

“so today was when you find out you’re dating my sister?” blitz confirmed, who looked just as angry as his sister.

“guys i promise i literally had no idea! it just never got brought up and i never told blitz about my life because i don’t want to broadcast my personal life to work! and i respected your wishes as to not talk about you at work!” you clasped your hands over your head. “i would never do anything to hurt you guys.” you pleaded.

“i don’t even know what to say,” blitz let out a high pitch laugh.

“fuck you blitz, and fuck you y/n.” barbie pointed at you.

“barbie please, i didn’t know.” you walked closer to her. “can we please talk about this later? i don’t want to work with blitz, i know how much he has hurt you.” you held both of her hands.

barbie didn’t want to be mad at you, she didn’t want to leave you. she knows that you didn’t know because she refused to say his name or even show you what he looked like, so she couldn’t be mad. barbie sighed and pressed her forehead against yours, “i’m not mad, but i would appreciate it if you stopped working for him.”

“of course, barb.”

“are you fucking kidding me, y/n? you’re actually gonna quit?” blitz glared.

you turned around, “she’s my girlfriend and i will always respect her wishes. she told me about what happened and how you hurt her. i’m sorry blitz.”

“i was hurt too!” blitz yelled.

“but you never told me! i’m sorry blitz but..i quit-”

before you couldn’t finish your sentence everyone was covered in blood. you, barb, blitz, and moxxie stared at the mangled up guy.

“SATAN FUCKING DAMMIT! i’m out of a job. FUCK!” barbie screamed, pulling out a yellow crystal to go back to hell.

“barb wait!” blitz walked over, “i want to help you, please let me help you.”

you stayed next to barbie as her and her twin brother fight, as your girlfriend and your best friend fight.

the portal opened and she grabbed your hand. you turned around to look at blitz who was hunched over with cloudy features. he felt betrayed by you. he didn’t want to lose you or his sister, but he did.

you mouthed the words, “i’m sorry”, before following barbie in the portal.

[djljpanda]

I don't doubt for a second that you're a good author.

Alright! I have been hoping to request this for some time now, but there was never a good oppertunity. But there is now so how about this:

For Helluva Boss: I was hoping if I could request for Barbie Wire x Fem Goetia Reader romantic headcanons?

Barbie Wire X Fem Goetia Reader

I feel like you two met by her working some job that your family was looking over

I feel like at first you two will not like each other as she might think you are just some royal with a stick up their a$$ and you think she is just some street rat

Haters To Lovers

You definitely fell first because you saw how she was just some sweet girl that had bad stuff happened to her

Barbie fell harder as you were there for her to vent and to talk to as she now sees you as some real princess from fairy tales

I think you girls would go out secretly at night to different rings just to goof off

You did share your first kiss after she was telling you some jokes lately into the night in your room and you just sat there laughing and you girls just kiss

You knew it was wrong but hell did it feel good

You did give Barbie some good paying jobs, honestly you just made her work for you in someway

Barbie did want to take your relationship slow and you are okay with that

Barbie didn't really want you to be public about your relationship not that she was embarrassed by you she just didn't want you to be judged by others and your title token away, you just told her that they can take away anything but nothing will take your love away for her, that's what made Barbie know that you truly love her

You do keep your relationship a secret at first but when Blitzo and Stolas started to be public and after some talking you two did as well

I bet that Barbie does sleep on your chest as she does give off small spoon vibes but would also want to hold you

Barbie is the talker while you are most of the listener

You are very protective of your girlfriend and will throw hands with the devil himself

Date night is your favorite thing to do

You guys have shopping dates, beach dates, go clubbing, and with your status as a Goetia you two can go anywhere

You girls did have to hide this relationship from everyone else but that's what made the relationship keep going and now that you girls went public everything feels calm like you two can sit back and watch some a Tv

Barbie loves your body and praises it any chance she gets

You do show off your magic to her which she loves when you do

Overall I can see this relationship work out and that you two will definitely be together through anything

Fun fact she loves to hear your chirps

A/n: This is honestly a great idea thank you for sharing.

[oystercat]

barbiewireee :)

i did another art

shes so cute and i lovee her voice ♥️

anyone else notice that along with crossing out the symbol she has on her head she also drew lil hearts?

it was such a cute detail i had to include it

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Barbie Wire Headcanons: Manipulation

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! Welcome Back to another Chapter, this one is the VERY BASE Headcanons and traits of Barbie Wire! Anyways, Enjoy this chapter]

(Disclaimer: Barbie Wire is NOT Yandere in canon, this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine. Just do not be illegal or gross about it. Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanons from canon.)

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Barb Wire-

.Barbie Wire is an egotistical woman who really for the most part cares about herself.

.Then there is you, the one person she has any form of care for.

.She is not the best yandere or the best person in the world.

.She for the main part only cares for what she wants and what she needs.

.What she wants the most is you.

.She is AN EXTREMELY Manipulative type of yandere.

.She will use her looks and charms to get you under her spell.

.Seducing you and doing what she wants to make you hers.

.She is not above maybe even drugging you to make you hers.

.Also she would be the type to not only drug but kidnap you as well.

.She would make you dependent on the drugs so that you would need them and she will be your supplier.

.Keeping you as hers and in line so you can feel comfortable.

.She will also use your loved ones against you.

.You try and leave her, your family and friends are as good as dead.

.She may even pull the card if you do fall in love with her.

.That she will go back on drugs if you leave her. That you are the only one keeping her off them.

.She is a very toxic yandere in this regard that is for sure.

.She will manipulate you into loving her, so there is no love confession.

.She also will kill her rivals.

.She is not afraid to hurt her rivals.

.She is the type of yandere to be petty as fuck, she is not going to let things go.

.You held hands with someone else.

.She will make sure you never forget, that she was the ONLY ONE who could do that with you!

.Anyone you dated before she even met you? They are as good as dead, you belong to her and her alone and no one else is going to have you.

[That is all the base traits for now, I will most likely update this when we learn about more about her character]

[Another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!]

[teddie-bear420]

BARBIE WIRE MY BEAUTIFUL GIRL FAIL

Man I love broken women in trench coats

master post of all my Barbie doodles

[nixie-writes]

Barbwire x tall sinner!female!reader who has nightmares due to a traumatic experience before you went to hell romantic headcanons

-fire raged, its flames licking at your legs. The burn was piercing. Pieces of your home had already collapsed and you were trapped. You were fighting to get the metal beam off your now shattered left leg, your right leg searing hot. It was just too heavy.

-blood pounded in your ears, sirens filled the air. You could barely breathe through the smoke and you were fighting to stay conscious. In your oxygen depleted daze you fell backwards, and as you did you accidentally stabbed yourself through the head with a sharp piece of wood jutting from the ground.

-...a soft hand was gently shaking you. With a sharp gasp you say straight up, examining yourself. Your burn scars were now just colors of your body. You didn't feel wood in your head. There was no fire trying to eat you alive. You were okay.

-turning to your side, you saw your girlfriend, Barbie Wire. She was staring at you with concern in her eyes. "Are you okay?" She whispered. "You were screaming that something was burning you...what happened?"

-you recounted the story of your death to her, including the less savory details. You were shaking a lot, and Barbie had to pull you close to keep you from breaking down.

-"Shh, you're okay now. You're here with me," she sighed in your ear. You relaxed a little in her embrace, slowly wrapping your arms around her figure. You felt a single tear slip down your cheek, a tear of relief. You could have never made it this far without Barbie, and you couldn't be more thankful to have her.

[voxslays]

“Howdy, Striker!”

Featuring >>> Striker x Reader; In which, Reader catches Striker in the middle of a murder, and things escalate from there.

Warnings; Smut, Possibly Dub-Con, Striker is Striker.

A/N: Sorry for posting my latest part of Haztober so late, here is a special little gift for being so patient with me. I just watched episodes 3-7 of season 2…but 4 and 6…STRIKER!

It was a fine fall day out in the wrath ring. Still very hot, but starting to cool down as it got later into October. You were visiting for the Harvest Moon Festival, hoping to see one of your close friends compete. You were taking a shortcut by walking down an alleyway when suddenly you saw two imps fighting. As you got closer you realized who one of them was—Striker—A famous assassin and cowboy among wrath. “Give up vermin.” He growled at the other demon as he dealt one last blow to the head with his angelic knife. He watched as the imp bled, then turned towards you. “Hello there little one..” Striker grinned, showing his gold tooth. You quickly backed up. “Woah, Woah, Woah there cowboy…I was just leaving-!” You say, clearly panicking. Striker's grin widens, a dark amusement playing in his eyes. He takes a step closer, his heavy boots thudding against the ground. "Going so soon? You just got here. Besides, I haven't even had a chance to,” He pauses as he looks you up and down. He reaches out, his large, calloused hand wrapping around your wrist. His grip is firm, unyielding. He pulls you closer, his breath hot against your face. "…Ask you your name." He purrs, his voice low and menacing.

Your breathing grows heavier. ​​"Now, now, why are you breathing like that? Am I that intimidating, hmm?" He chuckles, his gold tooth glinting in the dim light. "Relax, I don't bite...Hard." He grins, his eyes glinting with a wicked amusement. He leans in closer, his nose brushing against your neck. He inhales deeply, his voice rumbling against your skin. "You smell... different.” He says, his southern accent ringing through the air. “Like flowers, not like the usual stench of this place. Intriguing..." He pulls back, his gaze meeting yours.

“I'm not from here.” You say as your breath hitches. "Clearly." He smirks, his thumb tracing circles on your wrist. "And what brings a sweet little thing like you to this godforsaken place, hmm?"  His eyes narrow slightly, suspicion flickering in them. “I’m just here to watch one of my friends compete in the festival.” Striker laughs. "The Harvest Moon Festival, eh?" He releases your wrist, taking a step back. "Well, ain't that just precious. Coming all this way to watch your little friend play pretend." He shakes his head, another harsh laugh escaping his lips. "You know, I was invited too. But me? In a festival? Might as well invite a wolf to a lamb convention." He chuckles darkly, his gaze returning to you. "But now that you're here, maybe my time won't be entirely wasted." He says, his voice filled with lust. 

You suddenly feel a deep blush coat your already rosy red cheeks. "Mmm, you're blushing. Cute." He grins, taking a step closer. His hand reaches up, his calloused fingers gently caressing your cheek. "Look at me like that again and I might just take you right here." Your blush deepens. His eyes darken with desire as he notices your even redder cheeks and quickened breath. In one swift motion, he pushes you against the nearest wall, his muscular body pinning you in place. His other hand grips your hip possessively.

You gasp in surprise, feeling an army of butterflies in your stomach. *His face hovers inches from yours, his hot breath mingling with yours. "Shh, just breathe," he whispers, his voice laced with dominant undertones. "I promise, I won't bite...yet." His hands begin to explore your body, slowly, tauntingly. His touch is firm, yet gentle, contradictions that send shivers down your spine. His voice drops to a low purr. "You're so responsive... It's intoxicating..." His southern drawl becoming more evident. His hands slip under your shirt, his calloused palms brushing against your bare skin. You can feel his erection pressing against you, a testament to his arousal. "See what you do to me?" he growls, nuzzling your neck.

His kisses become more urgent as you let out a few gasps and moans, his hands tightening on your hips. He grinds against you, a low growl rumbling in his throat. "You taste like honey," he murmurs, his voice hoarse with desire. "I bet you'd taste even sweeter elsewhere." His strong hands hoist you up, carrying you over to a nearby abandoned shack. He kicks the door open, carrying you inside. He lays you down on a pile of hay in the corner.  His eyes glint wickedly as he looks down at you.  "Now, where was I?"

He crawls over you, his hands pushing your skirt up. His fingers brush against your thighs, slowly parting them. "So innocent..." He kneels down between your parted thighs, his broad shoulders pushing them further apart. He flashes you a roguish grin before lowering his head, his warm breath tickling your core. "I think I'll start here." 

His tongue flicks out, tasting you. He growls in approval, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them open. He buries his face between your thighs, feasting on you like a man starved. His touch is rough, intense, mirroring his personality. "So good..." You cry out in pleasure. He doubles his efforts at your cry, his tongue delving deeper, lapping at your essence. His fingers dig into your soft flesh as he holds you in place, not letting you escape his relentless assault on your senses. He suckles your sensitive bud, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. 

He laps at you more insistently, drinking in your essence. His tongue delves deep inside, stroking your walls. He sucks hard on your clit, determined to make you fall apart. "That's it, scream for me," he growls against your sensitive flesh. He continues his onslaught, drawing out your release. As you come down from your high, he straightens up. His face is glistening with your juices, his eyes wild. He quickly begins to unbuckle his belt, his eyes never leaving yours. The leather hisses as it's pulled through the loops of his pants. He doubles it over, the ends dangling ominously. "You've been a good girl so far... But maybe it's time for a little..."

He leans down, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. He wraps the belt around your wrists, securing you to the wooden beam above. He smirks at you, his face a mask of dark intent. "Now, where were we?" He drops to his knees, burying his face once more between your thighs. He ravishes you with his mouth, his tongue plunging deep inside. But this time, he brings his hand into play, his fingers joining his tongue. He pumps them in and out, scissoring them to stretch you. ​​He continues his relentless assault on your most intimate area. His fingers curl inside you, stroking your G-spot as his tongue lashes your clit. He can feel you tightening around him. Knowing you're close, he doubles his efforts, determined to push you over the edge into ecstasy. 

He feels your walls clenching around his fingers, your body trembling on the edge. He doubles his efforts, sucking your clit hard as he curls his fingers to stroke that special spot inside. He wants to feel you come undone, to hear you scream his name as pleasure overtakes you. He feels your body convulse, your inner walls gripping his fingers like a vice as you come undone. He doesn't let up, continuing his relentless assault until he's wrung every last drop of pleasure from you. Only then does he slowly withdraw, licking his lips with a satisfied grin. “Stiker!” You scream out. 

He stands up, his eyes burning with a dark hunger. He reaches for the belt still binding your wrists, undoing it and tossing it aside. He lifts you up, his strong arms supporting your weight. He carries you over to the table, setting you down on the surface with a thud. He steps between your legs, forcing them apart. His hands grip your backside, lifting you up and pulling you forward. He grinds against you, his hardness rubbing against your slick folds. "Look at me," he demands, his voice gruff with desire. You immediately look into his golden eyes. 

His eyes bore into yours, his gaze intense and possessive. He reaches down and spreads your lips open, revealing your dripping wet pussy to his hungry gaze. "So fuckin’ pretty," He growls, his voice now filled with lust and his classic southern accent. He lines himself up, the head of his dick pressing against your entrance. He slowly pushes inside, his eyes never leaving yours. He wants you to see who's taking you, possessing you completely. He grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he starts to move. He pulls out slowly, only to thrust back in harder, setting a steady, powerful rhythm.

His thrusts become more forceful, almost violent in their intensity. The table creaks beneath you as he pounds into you. "Take it," He snarls, his voice strained with pleasure. "Take every fuckin’ inch of my cock." He leans down, his chest pressing against yours as he continues to pound into you. He captures your lips in a rough, dominating kiss. His tongue forces its way into your mouth, claiming you utterly. He swallows your moans and cries, drinking in your pleasure like a true cowboy. He breaks the kiss, panting harshly. His hips never stop moving, driving into you with increasing force and speed. The room fills with the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and your moans. "Take it," He snarls greedily. 

He lifts you up, holding you aloft as he drives into you from below. He grins wickedly as he watches his length disappear inside you, over and over. He leans back slightly, changing the angle and making you gasp. "Oh, you like that? Good." He slams into you, finding that spot inside that makes your vision whiten. He sets a brutal pace, driving into you deep and hard. He watches where he's joined to you, his eyes glued to the point where he disappears into your heat. "You feel so good~” His face contorts with pleasure and concentration as he chases his release. His arms tighten around you, his hands clutching your bottom possessively. His breathing grows heavier, his movements more erratic. He's close. He leans forward, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. He bites down, the sharp pain pushing you both over the edge. He roars his release, burying his face against your neck as he spurts into you with one final thrust. 

He collapses forward, pinning you beneath his heavy, sweat-slicked body. He pants against your neck, his hips still twitching slightly with the aftershocks. After a long moment, he lifts his head to look at you, his eyes dark and sated. "Mmm..." Striker groans. He slowly pulls out of you, his softening length slipping free with a wet sound. He rolls to the side, pulling you with him so you end up draped across his broad chest. His large hand finds your back, stroking up and down possessively. "You did well.” He smirks cockily. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, an unusual sign of tenderness from him. He wraps both arms around you, his hold tightening protectively. "Rest now," Striker murmurs, his voice low and soothing.

[fizzyrodeo]

got inspired by a random post and categorized the 'main' helluva boss characters by how good their songwriting skills are and if they'd use them in a relationship!

inspired by @bladesjulia29 !

can't write songs but would for their s/o:

Millie

Chaz (okay he can write songs but... not very well)

can write songs and would for their s/o:

Moxxie (canon)

Stolas

Fizzarolli

Asmodeus

Beelzebub

can write songs but wouldn't for their s/o:

Demon! Mayberry (doesn't really sing post-death, it reminds her of her past...)

Verosika (would probably write songs inspired by s/o, but not any exclusively for them— especially if they're #1 hit material)

Striker (mf probably wouldn't even take requests)

can't write songs and wouldn't for their s/o:

Blitzø (would probably try at least once if he thinks his s/o would really like the effort)

Loona

Vortex

Stella

Crimson

Barbie

Mammon

[athenamikaelson]

Complaints and Harriet Styles Pt. 2

Klaus Mikaelson x reader

Warnings- strong language, innuendos, mentions of blood and death.

Word count- 2.5k 

 “Would it make me a bad person if I said he was hot?’ I asked Caroline as I sat in front of her vanity mirror as she curled my hair.  

“Y/n,” Caroline frowned at me as she looked at me through the mirror, “he either killed or is trying to kill our friends. He’s a bad guy, so don’t even think about it.” 

“I’m not saying I want to bang the guy or anything,” As I say that the the thought crosses my mind and it’s clear Caroline knows that as well as her frown deepens, “Care don’t get your Barbie hair in a twist. Even though his accent is dreamy and his blue eyes make my knees shake. I’m not going to try anything, obviously.” I say mockingly as Caroline watches me as if she’s somehow aged 100 years since our conversation began. Which you know isn’t possible because she’s literally immortal. 

“Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you. You’re either arguing with someone or hitting on them. Or even both!” She says as she throws her hands up in emphasis, the curler unplugging itself during her action. 

We both sit there in silence for a moment looking at the curler’s wire. I look up at her with a sly smile, “Does this mean we’re finally done? My ass hurts from sitting here and being your personal doll.” Caroline puts her hand on her hip with a displeased look on her face. 

“I haven’t finished curling the other half of your head, so turn around and shut it. And didn’t you just say I was the Barbie doll?” She says matter-of-factly as she replugs in the curler and waits for it to heat back up. 

“Ok well you are a Barbie doll, I’m more like that doll that Angelica had in Rugrats, y’know the one with fucked up hair and looks like she just got thrown into a blender.” I laugh at my own joke as Caroline rolls her eyes, a smile trying to make its way onto her face. 

I glance at my dark eyeshadow that makes my y/e/c eyes bright. 

“Why do I even have to go to this stupid dance, our school has like 14 a year. How does our town even have the budget for that? And why do we have to do weird decade dances?” 

“Y/N you’re going to homecoming, end of story. It’s our senior year. This past year has been so crazy that we deserve a little normalcy.” She says as she finishes my last section of hair. 

“Normalcy? You do realize that every dance we’ve had since last year has ended with someone dead or impaled right? It isn’t a Mystic Falls high school dance if it doesn’t end in blood!” Caroline just watches me in annoyance as she sprays my hair with hairspray, “accidentally” spraying some into my face.

“Bitch!” I cough out.

“Go get dressed!” She uses her strength to lift me up and push me over to her closet where my y/f/c dress is hanging.

I look over my shoulder, “I hate you.” 

Caroline smiles, “Love you too brat.”

-------------

I listen to the live band as I sip on the disgusting drink in my hand. Caroline who was supposed to chaperone tonight left me to go yell at Tyler for his wolfy crush or whatever on Klaus. I’m seriously debating on just walking myself home, since Caroline was my ride, as I watch on in disgust as teenagers grind against each other to the fast song the band is playing in the backyard of Tyler’s house. Somehow Tyler was able to put together a huge party since the gym was flooded last minute. Caroline didn’t seem suspicious but I on the other hand always think the worst is going to happen at any time, and with my friend group's history with dances I wouldn’t be surprised if something was going to go down tonight. I'm about to grab my bag and leave before shit goes down when I hear a British accent come from behind me. 

“Welcome everyone tonight,” I turn around, and low and behold that British fuck from Senior prank night is standing up on the stage in front of all of us, yapping about something. 

“This is a long time coming,” He says as he watches someone from the crowd with a smirk on his face. I follow his eye line to see Stefan staring back at him. Yikes. I look back to the Brit but find his eyes staring in my direction. I don’t think he’s looking at me until I send a look of disgust at him which makes the smirk on his face deepen. Fuck me. Wait. No. I quickly turn around and start to make my way to the edge of the party hoping to make my escape before I get sucked into whatever bullshit the Scooby gang is going to try to drag me into. I smile to myself as I’m about to be successful in my escape as my vision is blocked by something. Said something bumps me backwards throwing me off balance and I wait to hit the ground as I start falling, but nothing comes. I look up to see Klaus grabbing ahold of the top of my arm, keeping me from falling down.  

“What a fucking cliche,” I say to myself angrily. Klaus looks at me inquisitively. 

“What’s a cliche?” He asks me with that stupidly hot accent as I rip my arm away from his hold and put another foot's distance between us.

“You catching me,” I tell him but he only looks confused, “Y’know in romcoms when the girl trips and falls but doesn’t actually fall because the random hot main guy catches her. It’s a big fucking cliche.” I say huffing as Klaus watches me with that stupid fucking smirk on his face.

“And I’m the main hot guy?” He asks, clearly trying to get me to go along with his current ego trip.

“No, you’re not. Ryan Gosling is the hot main guy or Paul Rudd,” I let out a satisfactory sigh at Paul Rudd, “You’re more of the evil boos villain in video games.” 

“And what’s so wrong with being the villain?” He asks me as he takes a step towards me. 

I look at him with what I can only guess looks like a “are you fucking kidding me” look. 

“Literally everything. That’s literally the whole point of being the villain.” I put my hand out stopping him from stepping closer. Klaus watches me closely for a second too long. His gaze makes me quite uncomfortable because I can’t tell if he wants to kill me for speaking to him like I just did or applaud me for having the balls to. God, sometimes I just need to learn to shut the fuck up. 

“Dance with me.” He states as he puts his hand out waiting for me to give him my hand in return. My gaze goes from his face to his hand multiple times before I shake my head in annoyance. 

“No way dude,” I say as I start to book it back towards the house away from him. I don’t get far though because he’s in front of me again with a determined look on his stupidly hot face. God why does it always have to be the bad guys that are hot? 

“Either you dance with me, or I start killing your friends off one by one. I wonder where that blond friend of yours is, Tyler’s little girlfriend.” He says with a dark glint in his eyes. 

“Why?” I try to hold my ground even though I’m pretty sure I’m about to start pissing myself any second now. 

“Why what?” he asks me as he watches me.

“Why do you want to dance with me? Theirs like 200 other girls here that I’m sure would just jump at the chance to dance with some British guy.”

Klaus just shrugs his shoulder as if he himself doesn’t even have an answer to the question. 

“Because none of them have had the displeasure of catching my eye.” 

“And let me guess, I have?” I ask him. He doesn’t give me an answer though, only reaches out his hand once again waiting for me to take it. Annoyed I slap my hand in his and drag him to the dance floor. Once I push us into the middle of a big group, I turn to him.

“Don’t be pissy if I step on your toes.” Klaus just lets out a huff of a laugh as he drags my body closer to him so my chest is touching his. A shudder goes through my body at the contact and I mentally curse myself for the reaction. Fuck he smells good. Jesus Y/N get a grip, he’s just a guy. A thousand-year-old hot guy, but still just a guy. I look up to find Klaus already staring at me, with a knowing smirk on his face. I just roll my eyes as I try to play it off cool as he sways me to the now slow song.

“So tell me, how did you become friends with my doppelganger and her little group of followers?” A weird feeling of sadness flows through me at his question as I realize he only asked me to dance for information on my friends. 

“We grew up together. Small town like this everyone knows each other, sadly.” I say looking off to the distance and watching the other couples converse lovingly with one another. 

“Why sadly?” He asks me, and for a second I could’ve sworn I heard actual curiosity. I glance back at him and shrug. 

“I just hate this town. I never liked people knowing my business, and everyone here is so complacent with their normal lives. They never question anything or want to know more about anything other than what happens in our weird ass town.” I blush as I realize I just rambled on to a complete psycho about my feelings. But, the look on Klaus’s face isn’t one of annoyance or humor like the other people I’ve vented to usually have on their faces. His face turns from contemplation to understanding. 

“I know what you mean,” He says as he expertly twirls me around, “when I was a boy I grew up in a small village where the wasn’t much chance for prospering. I loved the arts and knew I would never be able to do anything with it. It made me angry. So I can understand your resentment.” He tells me and for a second I forget that he’s the blood-thirsty monster ruining my friend’s lives. 

“You like art?” He looks down at me with a soft smile as if the subject brings out a different side of him. 

“I’ve loved it for over a thousand years. The way emotions can be shown through a canvas and bring out emotion so foreign is unlike anything else I found over a millennium of living,” His eyes trail down to mine, “What do you think?” 

I nod softly in agreement, “I love art. Not really painting because I’m kind of shit at it, but sketching and just looking at art. Although I’m not a fan of this new-age art where someone can splash a canvas with a line of color and sell it for a million dollars. I like art that means something to someone. Art that when you look at it you can feel the emotions that the artist was feeling, every move of the brush stroke made with heart and emotion.” Klaus nods along to my rambling again with a soft look on his face. A look that I can’t quite decipher since it’s on the face of one of the scariest men in the world. 

As the song comes to an end I reluctantly let go of Klaus’s hands. He stares at me for a moment and I think he’s just going to turn around and walk off realizing he didn’t get the information he wanted but then a small laugh escapes his lips and he shakes his head. I watch on in slight confusion wondering if he’s having some kind of stroke or something. 

“You’re not like them you know,” he must notice my confusion because he continues, “like your friends. You’re nothing like them.” I pang of hurt pierces my chest as I turn away and start to walk off, “Well screw you too.” 

“I didn’t mean that as an insult,” He says hastily as he grabs my arm turning me back towards him, “You’re friends they’re small-minded. They think of only themselves and not the world around them, or how amazing it can be.” I go to interrupt him and tell him not to insult my friends but he cuts me off. 

“You need something bigger than this little town. Something that brings you life. When I originally saw you that night in the gym I thought you were just going to be like the rest of them. But you surprised me Y/n, and not many people can say that.” 

I just stare at him in amazement for what seems like forever as I try to piece together everything he just told me. In my stupor though a woman approaches Klaus and whispers something to him which makes his originally light demeanor change to something dark. The woman walks away as Klaus looks at me once more.

“Whenever you decide you want to be a part of something bigger, see something other than this little town I’d be happy to show you. All you need to do is ask.” He tells me as he grabs my hand and places a chaste kiss upon it. I still can't get the balls to say anything as he gives me one last glance before he follows behind the woman. 

What the actual fuck.

-------------

I walked up to my front porch after getting dropped off by Matt because I guess Tyler drugged Caroline with vervain to save her from a pack of mind-controlled hybrids so that’s why she couldn’t bring me home. Sometimes I really hate my friend group. Why can’t for once we deal with normal people's problems like pop quizzes or acne? Like why does not one person in that entire group have a pimple on their skin? That’s the most supernatural thing going on here.

I’m about to open my front door when a small envelope catches my eye at the bottom of my feet. I look over my shoulder and only see Matt as he waits for me to enter my house. I wave to him with the envelope in hand and walk inside my house. I hastily open the envelope and pull out a piece of thick canvas paper. The paper is covered with a beautiful sketch of what appears to be an open field covered in flowers with grazing horses in the distance. Being so engrossed in the sketch I didn't notice the small note on the back. 

“There’s a whole world out there just waiting for you to experience, love. When you’re ready to experience it, I’ll be waiting.” – Klaus

Taglist-

@grac3aph3lion @megmcc2003 @kollover24 @nameunknownsthings

[croucify]

✶ STARGIRL — hamzahthefantastic x reader

005 ✶ Falling For You

stargirl masterfile – next – previous

SUMMARY: hamzah has a crush on a youtuber who's always out and about and slushies see their relationship progress on social media! (smau)

DISCLAIMER: reader is a brown haired girl and for some pics that aren't faceless, i'll be using olivia rodrigo cause i love her and she’s filipino like me hehehe

hamzahthefantastic posted on their story !

vanna @slushyfan

hamzah in his new ig story… im tweaking

11 replies 25 retweets 59 likes

user673 he looks so good can y/n fight

user091 omg where is he going why’s he in a suit

↳ user524 oh mygooood do u think he’s going to the oscar’s with y/n

↳ user810 WAIT THEY DID MENTION THE OSCARS LAST VIDEO RIGHT

liked by rhode, wildflowercases, and others

ynln thank you so much @oscars for inviting me, best night everrr!!!

view comments

user570 YOURE SO BEAUTIFULLLL

user021 last pic is so real

user693 will there be a vlog for this omg

↳ ynln YES!!! i recorded my whole trip going to la and the oscars ++ many more :)))

user455 im so happy foruuuuu

ynlnupdates Such a beauty! ( liked by ynln )

thatmartinkid nice post can hamzah come home already

↳ ynln nooo let me have him for a few days plspls

↳ user017 WHATTTTTTT

↳ user526 OMFG SHES WITH HAMZAH

oscars + la vlog

66k views • 4 hrs ago

uploaded by ynln

the video started with you zooming into hamzah's back. he wasn't aware of your recording until he turned to face you.

"oh you're recording now," he lets out a chuckle, eyes looking up at you and not on the camera.

the next clip shows you and hamzah in the airplane, he was wearing his sony headphones while you had your wired earphones on. your head was on his shoulder and you had a hand wrapped around his bicep.

you smile at the camera then glance at him before squeezing his arm gently for him to look at the camera. he looks down at you and you were smiling at the camera, he smiles at you instead of the camera.

you proceeded to talk to the camera while hamzah listened to his music, your head still on his shoulder which he didn't mind.

during the flight, you ended up falling asleep on hamzah. he put the armrest up and slowly removed your hand from his bicep, letting you rest on his shoulder with his arm around you. he turned your camera on and showed you sleeping before he started making goofy faces at the camera.

the next clips were montages. it shows you and hamzah walking around lax then in the taxi you show the road before turning the camera to hamzah who was asleep.

“okay, so today, we’re going to the oscars!” you exclaimed.

you were already dressed up, seated in the car. hamzah was beside you but wasn’t completely seen in frame. “what movie do you think will win?” you showed hamzah and he was fiddling his fingers.

“i hope barbie wins,” he chuckles, looking between you and the camera.

as the night and recording went on, hamzah couldn’t remove his eyes off you. he was grateful he was the one filming you when you were posing for the carpet, it was even worse when they reached out for you to do the glambot. he was in awe. it was like seeing you in your element and he was able to capture it on camera for your vlog.

when you two entered the hall, you were now holding the camera and both your mouths formed into an o as you looked around the venue. you flip the camera while you continue talking about the celebrities you’ve just seen.

“oh my fucking god, we were able to talk to ariana greenblatt from barbie.” you said excitedly, almost tripping on the steps, hamzah immediately caught you, his hand wrapped around your waist.

you mutter a soft thank you before returning to the camera.

“she told us that she loves to watch us, said she loved my vlogs so much,” as you said this, the clip of you and ariana pops up on the screen. “and she also said the slushy virus got to her.” you giggle as you look up at hamzah, who was looking around for the seats assigned.

off camera—your hand was wrapped on hamzah’s arm almost the whole night, trying to get warm as it was a bit chilly inside the hall.

you start recording but your hands were shaking from how cold it is. hamzah takes both your hands in his and rubs them together, trying to make you warm but when you were still shivering, he takes off his blazer and wraps it around your shoulders.

“that better?” your faces were so close to each other, you could feel his breath fanning over your face.

you feel heat rising to your cheeks as you nod, looking away from him and returning your focus on the awarding—completely forgetting about how your camera was recording everything.

at the end of the video, you were still wearing hamzah’s blazer.

“that was sooo cool, i hope you guys enjoyed this video. some of the clips were filmed by the fantastic hamzah,” you said as you wiggled your eyebrows at the camera.

“i love you guys, see you next video!” you blow a kiss to the camera then it ends.

✶ taglist — @cdbabymp3 @noturbabe22 @dabuggh3 @kingvioleta @tumb1rgir1z @mfcherry @ldrvinyl LMK IF U WANNA BE ADDEDDD!!!

[netherfeildren]

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .6

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Mention of disordered eating; Minor breath play; Light choking; Rough sex; Angry sex; Jealousy; Possessive behavior; Pussy slapping; ANGST!!!!!!!!!! (no one come for me!!!) 

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: This is my favorite chapter of the whole story :) Art is Talking it out with Bobby by Holly Warburton

Word Count: 6.2K

Read on AO3

.6

We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we are no longer. As we will one day not be at all.

Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

You call in sick to work the next day. You can’t function after that, he’s destroyed you, taken a piece of you away with him and replaced it with something of himself. He lives inside of you now, worse than before, worse than anything you could have ever imagined. You can’t say that it was a mistake, letting him fuck you last night, mainly because it was the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to you, but the accompanying guilt collapses your lungs. 

When you look at yourself in the mirror after you've gotten home from the party, all you can see is your mother’s face in your reflection. And the thought comes hammering on your mind’s door in the middle of the night, you’re just like her now, an infidel. The poison drips through. Someone that’s taken what wasn’t theirs to take, someone that’s stepped into a space that was not theirs to enter. 

You’ve been leaking a steady stream of his come all night. Your cunt, sore and puffy, aching for more. Laying face down on the edge of your bed, arm hanging off the side and gone away to numbness, staring unseeingly out the window. You watch night pass through the sheer specter of your soft, blue drapes, the silver glow of the moon brightening into dawn, and then the light of the sun, sweeping in to reflect across all of your sins. Your head aches a steady constant throb right at the center of your forehead, deep inside your brain, and tears have been a unending salty stream of shame sliding sideways down your face and dripping coldly off the tip of your nose all night long. 

You’re a pathetic sight, you’re sure. And you’re scared, frightened in a way you don’t think you’ve been since you watched your mother walk out the front door of your childhood home at ten years old and had turned to look at your father sitting unblinkingly upright on the living room sofa. He’d stayed there for hours, still and silent while you’d sat in the chair across from him, waiting for him to say something, do something. A part of him had walked out that door with your mother that day and had never returned. You remember you were wearing your pink Barbie sneakers, the light up ones that glowed  bright at the heels. The memory is very clear in your mind, but you can’t tell which figure you are now, your ten year old self, alone, confused, or your father, comatose, fractured.

You’re frightened.

You think you’re falling in love with him – that you’re already there. 

Your greatest fear had always been ending up like your mother, unable to evade her blight of selfishness, of uncaringly hurting the people around her, the people that needed her. But now, now you’re terrified in a way that you’ve never been before, terrified of turning into that sad, broken figure sitting on the couch for years, a piece of him gone away with a woman who’d never return, who’d never really been his in the first place. 

How could something you’d wanted so badly, that had felt so good, enshroud you in such desolation now, just a few short hours later? Was it because you knew you shouldn’t have done it? You could only register that peripherally, for there wasn’t any real part of you right now, in this moment, that regretted it, that felt it was a mistake. You’re riding the strange invisible line between guilt and regret, firmly on one side, not yet crossed over to the other, but just right there, balancing on the tightrope. But you can’t even really tell what it is that you might or should regret, specifically. It doesn’t even feel wrong, it can’t, you don’t think, nothing that had ever felt that right, could ever actually be wrong. It isn’t even the pillar of his marriage in your mind, you don’t think. No, what it is, at its core, the place that this pain stems from, is that you know he wants to be with you, and that you want to be with him, and yet, after what the two of you experienced together last night, you’re alone now, separated, and it’s only because of you. It’s all your fault. What hurts more than anything is that you know how he feels, and yet, he is not here, and you are not going to let him be here with you. It hurts because you cannot let yourself have him, and will not ever have him, even though now you know what he feels like inside of you and what he tastes and sounds like. You’d brushed up against something you’d never thought even existed, something perfect, and you will not have it. 

It is… it is devastating. 

You love him, and you think that there is the very high possibility that he might feel the same way about you too, and yet you will not be together. The fact of your feelings for one another does not erase your history, your fear, the reality of his current situation. 

You have to bear the shame of going to the store for the morning after pill the next day. Too stupid and desperate to even think about being careful last night, cunt still puffy and sore, leaving a trail of him in your wake. It feels like you’re walking around with a bruise inside of you in the shape of him, and some cruel and rotten part of you whispers: it was worth it, you know you’d let it happen again, you know you want it to happen again.

Swallowing that little pill is just added salt in the wound – makes your hurt flare brighter within your heart for reasons you can’t even bear to examine right now, except to say that the idea of erasing whatever’s left of what could, very well, be the only time you’ll ever be close to him in that way, makes you want to die a little bit. 

And you think: perhaps this will pass, as all things do. You’ve never been religious, but maybe you’ll pray for this – to let go of the memory of him, forget what his hands feel like running along the contours of your body, how your skin felt aflame with his gaze on you. To let go of this want for him you’re scared might send you to an early grave. And yet, at the same time, and despite all this, you also beg the universe to make you remember, to never let you forget.

Hunger gnaws at your belly, sharp and chronic, but you’re not letting yourself have anything yet. Some cruel and masochistic part of you whispers that if you can’t control your feelings, the fact that you’re in love with a married man, then you’ll control this – your body – what you’ll let yourself have. It is a bad habit from your mother that you like to indulge in sometimes. The false sense of power it gives you over yourself, the pain and discomfort it lets you inflict on yourself – it grounds you, makes you feel like if this physical suffering continues then you still belong to yourself, you’re still anchored to yourself, you still hold some sort of autonomy over your body, even if your feelings for him have taken the rest of it away. You’re still real – not something that’s been stolen away by him, that piece he’d robbed you of last night is still there. 

-

Gerri climbs into bed with you, one very bad afternoon, drapes her arm around your shoulders to pull you into her warm embrace. You’ve been existing in a haze for days; and food and sleep and you have gone on a sabbatical from each other for the foreseeable future. There is no peace or rest or comfort to be found anywhere within you. Your mind is just too filled with things too terrible to escape from. Mostly your father – you’ve been thinking about him incessantly the past few days. How much you feel for him now, how much you understand him. You think that it is very easy, you now realize, to lose yourself in the dreams of an unattainable love, to lose yourself in the depths of your own grief. You’d cast him in a weak and pathetic light in your mind for so long, and now you were being faced with the terrible guilt of coming to realize that you understood him better than you’d ever thought you would. 

With her cheek pressed against the top of your head Gerri whispers, “It’s Joel, isn’t it?” The reality of how obviously transparent you are is devastating. 

“Yes.” You think your voice sounds almost unrecognizable, even to your own ears, so jagged and marred with agony. 

“You love him,” she says plainly, and all you can do is nod as you feel your tears slide across the bridge of your nose, down your temple to drip coldly into your ear, slipping over the hand you have pressed over your mouth to hold your own terrible sounds inside. “He loves you too.” Your face crumples, your body wracked with trembling sobs. “It breaks my heart seeing you like this, honey.”

“I can’t help it,” you croak. You are so, so tired of crying. Your eyes ache and burn, your body, your mind, your very soul feels exhausted. You are exhausted of missing him and despairing for him and hurting your own self. You don’t even know why you’re doing it all anymore.

But you can’t find a way to let it all go, to move on… to forgive yourself or your parents. It’s all just too much, too heavy. You think of your mother, all the resentment you hold against her – how do you forgive someone who has no interest in your forgiveness, who’s never cared for it? It’s terribly difficult to be so magnanimous, so emotionally intelligent, you think. One can only exist as the bigger person for so long until they explode. But how can you let go or forget, if you cannot forgive? Perhaps, if it had been someone else, something else, but this was no ordinary thing. This was the crux of all your emotional turmoil, of every issue and grievance that had plagued you your entire life. Your parents, your childhood, the pain of an adolescence alone and unsure and angry. Perhaps, if it had not been all that – if it had not been the thing to shape who you were as a person, who you’d grown into as an adult, you could have just moved on, let it go and forgotten eventually, let Joel in, but the pain of your past had now become inextricably intertwined with the pain of what seemed to be a lost future – of Joel, and so you found it within yourself, now, that you would never be able to forget, if you did not forgive your parents, and then, perhaps, yourself. 

But how to do that? You’d yet to figure it out.

-

After much pleading and coaxing and convincing from both Gerri and her sister, you’d agreed to go on a date with the shiny scarecrow – doctor – who you’re reminded is named Seth. Seth, Seth, Seth. You have to repeat it over and over in your mind to make it stick. And amidst your tears and depression and the overwhelming anxiety you’ve been living with for weeks and weeks on end, you ultimately relent. Too weak and fragile to resist the girl’s onslaught of encouraging suggestions and advice.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

He picks you up one Saturday evening, seven o’clock on the dot, to take you out to dinner. Gerri had helped you pick out a pretty soft lavender wrap dress, doing your makeup and hair and wiping away the occasional escaped tear. The silk of your dress is smooth and elegant, and it feels good to wear something so pretty, after weeks of existing like some sort of cave-dwelling-creature, even if that feeling is punctuated by the painful thought that you wish you were wearing it for a different man. 

And as poor, boring Seth leads you into the restaurant, a nice Italian place you appreciate the gesture of, his palm, not broad or strong enough, hovering over the small of your back and making you slightly nauseous, you pray for a nice night. Really, you do. You can’t be miserable anymore, you don’t want to be. Maybe Seth will pull something out of you or himself or the both of you consecutively, that will miraculously force you to have a wonderful time, wipe your memory, and never miss or think about one unmentionable man ever again. 

And then you hear your name being called from across the restaurant. 

It feels, a little bit, like your heart is falling out of your body. 

And you’re turning to take in the sight of Joel and Eva, accompanied by another couple, at a table in the corner of the busy restaurant. 

You think, in that moment, that you might faint. Or vomit. Or that something, very, equally bad is going to happen to you. Because it’s the first time you’ve seen him in weeks and weeks and all you can think about is the pounding rhythm of his cock fucking into your wet cunt and the sound of your voice crying, asking him what the two of you were going to do after this? How you were going to be able to go on after that? 

You do not think that this was the answer – him seeing you out on a date with another man.

His face – his face looks like it’s about to fracture in rage. His eyes are almost glassy, but so dark – burning with anger and shock and hurt. You did that to him. You’ve put that look on his face. And your heart beats so hard and so painfully in your chest, it feels like it’s being ripped apart, like he has it clutched within the embrace of his infinitely strong hand, and he’s squeezing the very life out of you in the middle of this crowded room. You think you can hear Seth’s voice saying something in your ear, Eva, again, calling your name, saying something to you, beckoning the two of you forward, and then Seth’s palm is pressing you forward, towards them, towards this angry, fractured beast you’ve turned the man you love into. You think you might start having a panic attack any moment now, or perhaps, that you’re already there. 

The two of you reach their table. They’re with two other people, but your vision is slightly blurry, all you can see are his furious eyes. Seth nudges you and your mind suddenly snaps back into clarity for a second, “Hi, Eva.” You can’t say his name right now, you can’t, you can’t. You’ll die right here on the spot if you have to utter his name out loud right now. “How are you guys doing? This is my friend, Seth.” You introduce them, she says Joel’s name, you register it peripherally, and at the sound of it, you’re pierced with a sudden, blinding arrow of jealousy. Why, why is he here? Out on a double date with her right now? How could he fuck you the way he had, and then just gone on with his marriage as if nothing? You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. You want to scream and rage and throw a fit. You hate yourself, this is all your fault, you pushed him to this. You’ve been emaciating yourself in the infinite pool of your grief, and he’s out on a fucking date right now? It’s insane and unhinged and entirely nonsensical, you’re out on a date right now too, you have no right to these feelings, but you can’t help it. You feel a slight tremble start up in your body, and you think that Seth might be able to sense something’s amiss with you because he wraps a steadying hand around your waist as he chats, and at his contact with your body, you think that Joel’s knee must jerk violently under the table, for the glass and silverware on the table’s surface jumps and rattles, sudden and loud. You startle and turn your face away from them, try and suck in slow, calming breaths through your slightly parted mouth. You think you hear the sound of his deep, rumbling voice, muttering out an apology, and then Seth’s hand around your waist is nudging you again, and prompting you to say goodbye, and the two of you are turning and walking towards your own table. 

Away from Joel and his anger and his wife.

-

A strong hand shoots out, catching the door as you’re about to shut yourself inside the restroom, needing a moment of escape, of reprieve, to vomit or have a panic attack or cry, you can’t really tell. Your body is in overdrive, panicking and shutting down all at once, and then he’s there, pushing the rest of the way in, crowding you backwards.

He’s here, he’s here, he’s here. Everything will be okay now, he’s here.“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Joel–” you cry, trying to push the immovable wall of muscle he is, back.

You hear the flip of the lock as he reaches behind him, and then his hand comes up to gently circle your throat, and he’s pressing you backwards and up against the wall. Your entire body shakes in a violent, feverish shudder. You haven’t felt him in weeks. Weeks and weeks without his skin on yours. 

You hate yourself. You love him. 

“You are not here on a date with that little fuck. Tell me I’m seein’ things.”

“Get your damn hands off me.” You try and push him away, but he tightens his hold, fingers administering the lightest pressure to the sides of your throat so that you start to feel that delicious, lightheaded rush. Fuck, fuck, fuck. No. 

“Tell me–” he’s seethes, bringing your face closer to his, “Tell me you’re not here on a date with him. Tell me, baby.” His spitting hiss turns into a begging croon at the end. As if by making his tone sweeter, he can make the reality of what you’re doing here tonight different to what it really is. 

“I am. I am on a date, and it’s none of your business.” You try to inflect as much spine into your words as you can, but it comes out all breathy and wrong, and your hands are clutching his wrist that’s gripping you, holding on for dear life, trying to bring yourself in closer to him, knees trembling. You’re sure you’re breaking out into a fever. The back of your neck and knees flushing with a cold sweat, flashes of heat spearing through your belly. 

“None of my business? Everything to do with you is my fucking business.” And he’s spinning you suddenly, pressing you to the wall so that your breasts and cheek are smushed against the cold tile and yanking your dress up around your hips. You feel him crouch down behind you, and then his fingers are pulling your panties down to your ankles, and he’s burying his face in your cunt from behind, soaking wet already, Jesus fucking Chirst, big hands gripping the meat of your ass to spread you wide for his tongue. You arch your back to let him in deeper as tears start to fall. 

We shouldn’t, we shouldn’t, we shouldn’t. Finally, finally, finally, thank God. 

He licks from your clit all the way to your asshole, spits a glob of saliva onto your already soaked skin and rubs it in. You let out a broken, devastated moan, almost a wail. Oh, it feels so good, so good. You shouldn’t – you can’t help yourself.

“P– please, please, Joel–”

“I know, I know, baby. Gonna give you what you need.” He gets to his feet, and you hear the drag of his zipper, one hand on your hip, the other coming around to press down on your belly, deepening the bend of your spine, and then the wide head of his cock is there, right where you need him the most, where he shouldn’t be, and he’s fucking into you all the way. Deep, deep, deep, without preamble.

 He owns you. You belong to him. How could you ever have been so stupid to think that a date with another man would be a good idea?

You’re whining, stuttering his name over and over again. “We shouldn’t, we shouldn’t, Joel, please, please, please, harder.”

“Shut up. How fucking dare you?” His thrusts are brutal. He brings the hand on your hip up to your throat to yank your head to the side, tongue licking deep into your open, panting mouth. “You force me to stay away, avoid me for weeks, and now you’re here with him? You’re gonna come on my fucking cock now. Remind you who you belong to. Were you gonna let him fuck you? Were you gonna let him have my cunt?”

“Never, never. I promise. Only you.” You’re dizzy, your brain – melted out through your ears, fucked out of you by the relentless onslaught of him inside of you. His grip is almost too tight around your jaw, the palm on your belly pressing down so that you both can feel his cock ramming into you from the outside.

The excruciating pain of missing him – and now this. You hate yourself, you’ll never come back from this. His wife is right out there, but God, God, he feels so good. You’ve missed him so much. You love him. He’s so right inside of you. Tears leak from your eyes, rolling over his hand clutching your face, and he sinks his teeth into the delicate tendons connecting your neck and shoulder. You’re going to come. Now, now any second. The harder he is, the rougher he treats you, the wetter you get, the tighter your pussy gets. You’re so fucked up. 

“All this fucking time apart, just to find you here.” He slides the hand on your belly down to your clit, starts a rhythmic little circular pattern that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your cunt clenching down hard, sucking him deeper. 

“Please– I’m sorry.” Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.

“No you’re not.” He gives the top of your mound a quick little slap that has you mewling high and warbled for him. “If you were, you’d have answered my calls, let me see you. What the fuck’s wrong in your head to think you can send me away? To think you can leave and never come back to me? You’re mine, and I’m yours. We belong to each other. Now be my good girl, and come on my cock. Right now.”

“Your wife’s right out there, you fucking asshole!” you cry, inner muscles starting to flutter and pulse around his throbbing length. 

“I don’t give a fuck. Gonna stuff you full of my come and send you back out there dripping me.” He kisses you again, and he’s so fucking dirty, so crude and mean and your orgasm hits you full throttle. So wrong. 

“Yes–  fuck, yes – good girl, such a good girl for me. That’s it,” he presses into your ear, dips his tongue into the soft, little shell. You sob his name, again and again, telling him how much you missed him, how much you need him as he starts to fill you with the searing heat of his spend. 

He presses gentle kisses to your neck, your shoulder, your wet cheek, hugs you tight to his chest. So at odds with the savage way he just took you. Your head rolls back onto his shoulder limply. You’re trying to control your sobbing, your face is going to be all red and splotchy when you walk out of here. You probably look wrecked, just fucked. Everyone’s going to know. Poor Seth – he doesn’t deserve to be disrespected like this. His wife’s going to know. Joel’s going to tell her. You can feel it in the desperation of his movements, the tight grip of his hands. He’s reached his limit, and he’s going to tell her everything, and you won’t be able to hide this anymore, won’t be able to stop him, to hide all of your truths and shame.

“Get away from me,” you gasp, breath hitching. Get away, get away, get away. What is wrong with you? You’re just like her, just like her, just like her. You’re just like your mother. Callous and poisoned. “Get away!” you almost shriek, starting to panic now. 

“Baby, wait – wait. I’m– I’m sorry. Fuck, I shouldn’t’ve been so rough.” He pulls out and you feel the gush of his come, moaning at the feeling. You brace your hands against the wall, trying not to lose your balance on your shaky legs. You feel his hands hovering around your waist, ready to catch you if you need him. 

“Oh God, oh God– what did we do?” You turn to face him, cheeks burning and tear streaked, hands coming up to cup your own face, eyes wide. Your whole body is shaking. “There’s something wrong with us.” He steps up to press himself all along the length of you and you shut your eyes. His gaze is so concerned, swimming with desperation, and you love him so much, you want him so badly, more than anything else you’ve ever wanted in your entire life. This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, and you can’t survive this, you can’t, you can’t. He cups his large palms over yours, completely engulfing your small hands and presses his brow to yours. 

“Please, please, baby. I’m begging you right now,” his voice cracks, and you pull your hands from beneath his and snake your arms around his neck to hug yourself closer to him. You need to breathe in his scent in these last few moments, you need to imprint the feel of him in your memory, brand it there to keep with you for the rest of your life. “Please, let me fix this. There’s a way to make this better, please.” 

“We can’t,” you whisper, rolling your brow over the hill of his shoulder in the imitation of a weakly stubborn shake. You don’t even know why you’re refusing anymore. It’s not like it feels any more right or wrong than what you’re already doing. It’s not like you’re better off for being without him, or he’s better off for staying in his marriage. It’s not like your obstinacy is helping anyone involved in this at all. And yet, you can’t help yourself, something inside of you is forcing you to continue to refuse. And at that he pulls himself away from you angrily. Ripping himself out of your hold and leaving you to stumble. 

“No, you can’t,” he spits, teeth bared at you in an almost hiss so that you have to step away from the horrible, painful look in his eyes. 

His anger incites your own, “You’re here on a date with your fucking wife,” you say, swiping your hand out in a halting gesture, “What do you care what I’m doing or who– who I’m with?”

He barks out a laugh, ugly and broken, and the sound of it makes you flinch, take another step back from him. “Wanna know something real fuckin’ funny?” No, you don’t think you do. “That’s the man she’s been having an affair with. The pregnancy scare? That’s him.” He jerks his thumb back towards the door, raises his eyebrows, a mocking gesture, a look that has you wrapping your arms around your middle protectively. He nods his head condescendingly. “Yeah…” He’s smiling, and the look in his eyes is manic and broken and full of an ugliness you hate seeing in him. Like he’s on the verge of fracture.

“Joel– What–” you bring up a hand to rub at the ache that’s starting up in your temple,  “What are you doing here with them? Why are you doing this to yourself?”

Why am I doing this to myself? He murmurs under his breath, shaking his head. He is so full of painful contempt in this moment, and you think that there is a slightly humiliating edge to this, but you don’t know who it is that’s being humiliated here right now. “You think I give a fuck about being here? About them?” His voice takes on an edge you’ve never heard in him before. No… not on the verge of fracture, you think, this is a man deep into the abyss of dissolution. His brow crumples. “I don’t – I don’t know. I can’t fucking think. I can’t function, you– you did something to me. You–” the words break in his throat, “You stole something from me,” the way you’d felt he’d stolen something from you, “My goddamn sanity or sense or something, and then you’ve refused to talk to me, to see me, and I don’t– I don’t know how to exist anymore, do you understand me? I don’t know how to do this alone – without you. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I– I just–” he squeezes his eyes shut and presses the balls of his hands harshly into his eye sockets, “I just need you to tell me how to do this. How are you doing this? Please, just tell me something that’ll help me, and I’ll do it. I swear, I will.” 

He’s breaking right in front of you, here and now, and you’re left speechless, your mind listless, and right before the words leave your mouth you think: don’t say it, don’t say it, please, don’t push him away, don’t hurt him like this again, but instead: “Joel, I can’t. I don’t–”

He cuts you off, “I know. You don’t want to… You don’t want this…” he laughs, another terrible and broken sound. “You don’t want this,” he whispers again, and his face spasms painfully, and then goes suddenly blank. All emotion melting away so that all you’re left with now is a bare, cold canvas. “You’ve never wanted this enough to fight for it… I don’t think. To let go of your fears. I’ve told you that I’d do anything for you, over and over again. And you won’t let me.”

“It’s not that fucking simple!” you cry. “Don’t– don’t say–” He was wrong, he was wrong. 

He tucks himself away, still slick and dripping your mingled come, and it registers for one immensely vulnerable second, that you’ve just had this terrible conversation with the both of you bared to each other in the most intimate of ways. He turns to face the door. A terrible curling lance of shame and disgust roils through you. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes again for one long quiet moment. You watch the broad expanse of his back suck in deep, slow breaths – trying to collect himself. His ribs flare so wide on the inhale, he’s so big. His arms fall to hang limply at his sides. “It’s fine. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that to you. I shouldn’t have been so rough… said all that. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.” His voice sounds dead. 

He turns his head to the side slightly, giving you his profile and whispers quietly, devastating, “This–” he shakes his head a little, a frown verging on confusion crumpling his brow, “This is hurting me?” and the way it comes out, like a question, but yet, so simply, so starkly – it would have been less painful had he struck you, than hearing him say those words so plainly. But still posed so unsurely, as if he doesn’t expect you to understand, or perhaps, as if he doesn’t quite understand it himself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep all your blood and pain from spilling out onto this dirty restroom floor. Something has just been irreparably destroyed here. You don’t know what it is. But you can feel it happening, and it hurts. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again. 

And you want to say, no, you’re the one that’s sorry. You’re more sorry than you’ll ever be able to put into words. 

But you stay silent, and he walks out. 

-

You’d always worried that the moment of true fusion with the memory of your mother, of who she was, would come, or better yet, had come, the moment you’d become involved with a married man. You’d thought that nothing after that could enshroud you in her terrible shadow more than that. But you realize, now, as poor Seth drives you home, silent and uncomfortable as silent tears stream down your face and another mans come leaks from your sex, as the memory of Joel’s broken voice and face flashes in your memory, that this is the moment, above all others, that you’ve felt most like the woman who gave you life. Nothing else has ever been like this. 

The poison drips through.

You think of your dad. Of the way he died, the way he lived in the years after she left – if that sad excuse of an existence could even be called living. 

What a terrible thing it is to love someone so much. 

What a terrible thing it is to know someone so well. Well enough to be able to understand them to their very core, to understand what it is that causes their pain, incites their actions. It is a terrible weight to bear.

Seth clears his throat as he pulls the car to a slow stop outside your house. “Uh… are you… are you okay?” Do I look okay? You want to roll your eyes, but he doesn’t deserve your annoyance.

You sniffle, try and control your voice, “Yes,” you whisper, “I’m sorry for– for all this. I… I’m sorry I ruined your night.”

“Look…” he says your name slowly, “I don’t– I don’t know what it is that’s between you and that guy… he’s the same one from the night we met–” you say nothing, “But I don’t think– I don’t think it’s going to work out between us. I’m sorry, but I can’t have all this drama. I’m not really interested in something like that.”

An uncontainable huff of a laugh slips out as you look out the window at the dark street, you shake your head minutely. “To be honest, I’m not so interested in all the drama myself, and yet…” you turn to him now, “I really am sorry, Seth. And I wish you the best.” He nods, stoic, face pointed directly forward, he doesn’t even want to look at you. Uncomfortable and embarrassed by your breakdown and tears and obvious disorder. It’s probably pretty obvious that you’d just gotten the sense fucked out of you.

You step into the dark interior of your quiet house after he drives off. It’s lonely, almost like a shell, an abandoned carcass. None of the comfort you’ve always found here seems to still reside within its wall, and you think that there probably isn’t any place in the entire world, besides by his side, where you’d be able to find any sort of comfort anymore. 

Hot guilt churns in your belly –  a vile mix of desperation, misery, resentment, wanting. Joel was right about one thing, you don’t know what you’re doing anymore either, what all this is for. None of it makes sense, none of it has a point. 

What is the fucking point of all this suffering?

You try desperately to suppress the certainty that lives so willfully within you – that he knows you, that he sees you, that you were made only for him. Something you’ve known for a long time, since the very beginning, probably. That no one, no one will ever intertwine with you, soul fused to soul, as intrinsically as he has. That no one will ever see the muddled shadows of your own self as clearly as he does, as if he was laying his eyes upon the inside of your skin.

You’re in love with him, and you realize that you’ve made yourself into something unrecognizable. A creature out of the very depths of your worst nightmares – the mirror image of the person you never wanted to be. 

Your brain feels as though it’s swollen within the confines of your skull, your tears uncontrollable. Your longing for him a spear of fire through your heart, and you are so, so weary of fighting. 

Your life had taught you that there were no happy endings. They didn’t exist. A figment in the imaginations of desperate people in need of consolation, comfort, excuses. But there could be grateful endings. Endings that you could thank God, the universe, whatever higher power you used to delude yourself with, for. You could be grateful when a thing ended. You could be glad of it. Perhaps, if you lie to yourself hard enough now, repeat it in your mind enough times, you can feel grateful that you’ve destroyed this. That it seems you’ve finally pushed him away for good – maybe this will help you finally rest, even if the lie of it pushes heavily down on your shoulders.

Chapter .7

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

[kairiscorner]

omgomg imagine reader being the radio announcer at the hq and miles and his gang came and messed around in her studio playing a super bass boosted version of barbie girl it almost sounds like earrape or they do sum silly shit like putting on goofy sound effects on the hq’s speakers (it completely pisses miguel off but readers just vibin ;p)

OH LMAO I HAD AN IDEA LIKE THIS WHATTTTT omg i should write about that, BUT THIS IS TOO GOOD TO PASS UP HEHE (sorry for the shitty spanish aaaaaa)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel o'hara x radio announcer!reader

greeting everyone in HQ a good morning and reading out reminders from miguel and the other higher-ups, occasionally taking song requests and reading out anonymous messages left for you to read aloud from all kinds of people in the spider society, was your daily routine that you never tired of doing. you always had a beautiful, melodic voice; it was an unforgettable, sweet one that everyone yearned to hear. without your voice, how could anyone start their day? well... they could always start it with an unscheduled, unplanned airing of a very crispy version of 'barbie girl' by aqua at 6:30 AM in the morning.

as you drank your coffee at your booth, surprised that the song was playing but not too surprised that you began wheezing it out of your mouth, you looked around as to what could've been making that noise. being an expert here at the radio booth, you knew exactly where to look; since you never got any request that you knew of to play such a bass boosted song, you knew from the get-go that you were being hijacked. you saw that a few cables and wires were stolen, and they lead all the way to... downstairs. you looked down, and there were the four trouble makers: miles, gwen, pav, and hobie. they all smirked, grinned, stifled laughter, and showed you a thumbs up.

you heard the crashing of glass nearby and the scraping of metal not long after, you cheered the kids on with a smile as you heard angry screaming in spanish and english by a familiar, groggy and deep, guttural voice from a man who did not want to be bothered by his 30 minute slumber. thus, miguel o'hara has awoke. he yelled up at your booth with bloodshot eyes and furrowed brows, "qué es ese maldito ruido?! did you authorize for this shit to be broadcasted at 6 FUCKING 30 IN THE MORNING?!" miguel exclaimed in an angry voice as you looked down at him with a sly smile and with mischievous eyes. "don't look at me... i'll get shy." you teased with a slight wink as miguel looked at you all confused and frustrated.

you didn't sell the kids out, you bought them just enough time to run off scot-free as miguel remained ever so angry at whoever played that damn, bothersome music so early in the morning. you'd feel bad... but being able to see him in such tiny boxers that he wears to bed with disheveled hair and hearing his low, sleepy voice was quite the treat for your eyes. maybe you should let these kids hijack your station more often, no?

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck @melovetitties @arachnoia @ophanimgold @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @simsrandomstuff @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

[raplinesmoon]

Just Jin (KSJ x F!Reader)

pairing: Barbie!reader x Ken!Seokjin genres/au/rating: angst (with a happy ending!), fluff, Barbie au, break-up au, PG-13 summary: After a trip to the real world, you and Jin both come to a realization that will change your lives forever.

warnings: break-ups, sadness, existential crisis, mentions of doctor's appointments

word count: 1.5k

a/n: I'm still working on mafia!Hoseok but listen my brain has been wired since I came out of the Barbie movie earlier today. It legitimately changed me as a person, and I felt inspired to create this bc I think Jin gives off such Ken energy. This is based on but also slightly altered from the Barbie movie, and as such, it will contain massive spoilers for the movie, so read at your own risk (go see the movie tho)! Anyways this was just a fun, goofy indulgent drabble that made my heart warm, and I hope you enjoy!

Tip-toeing through the dream house, you try to ignore the sensation of your feet cramping. After learning the wonders of being flat-footed, standing on your heels was no joke. No wonder women in the real world complained about wearing stilettos all the time. But right now wasn’t about the pain women felt to conform to societal expectations of beauty. There were centuries to go before those outdated notions of what it meant to be a successful woman were squashed. Right now, there was something more pressing you had to deal with.

Things had changed since you left. The dream house seemed more like a nightmare, its pristine pink walls besmirched with posters of sports icons and various forms of taxidermy. You frown to yourself. This wasn’t the house you’d known. The life you’d lived before with Jin seemed nothing more than a distant memory, both of you tainted by your experiences in the real world.

Jin. Speaking of him, you knew you had to find him. When you’d learned from the others that he’d gone off the rails, worry clouded your mind. Not just for him, but for all the others – Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook too. They were all so impressionable, more fragile than they let on. It scared you to think of the state you might find him in right now. And that’s when you hear it.

The sound is muffled, but you can barely make it out against the quiet that nightfall brings. It’s a choked sob, guttural and raw in its devastation. And it’s coming from your bedroom. Ignoring the newfound feeling of your heart clutching in your chest, you square up your shoulders, ready to face what lay ahead. And then you head upstairs.

The door creaks as it opens, and you flinch, hoping the sound won’t give away your entry into the room. But there’s no response. Feeling braver, you push it wider and gasp at the state of everything. For all the horses and saloon decorations Jin had implemented downstairs, the upstairs of your dream house is pristine. Exactly untouched the same way you’d left it. The pearls on your lampstand glisten in the moonlight, the walls are free of garish posters, and the same plush pink and purple sheets adorn your bed. And in the middle of it, Jin lies facedown, unmoving.

Freezing, you take him in, noticing how small he looks right now, curled up into himself. Jin had always been larger than life – his windshield wiper laugh echoing down the entire beach, his dad jokes catching the admiration of everyone around him, a smile plastered onto his stupidly handsome face with those perfectly pouty lips. He’s wearing the same sleeveless denim outfit you’re always used to seeing him in, unlike the other boys, who’d bought into new and more trendy fashions. 

If he feels the bed dip when you sit next to him, he doesn’t show it. You finally reach for him, pressing a gentle hand to his shoulder.

“Jin?” you whisper softly. “It’s me.”

He doesn’t move. Your heart sinks, knowing how difficult this was for both of you. But you needed to do this.

“Can we please talk?

That’s what gets him to rise, silky black hair disheveled and eyes rimmed with the red of his tears.

“What could you possibly want to talk about?” he croaks out, sniffling into his sleeve. “Everything is ruined.”

The same guilty feeling bubbles up in your chest, knowing part of him is right. Everything had been ruined. But not in the way you’d expected. When you and Seokjin had entered the real world, you’d been unprepared to have your lives change forever. No matter how much you tried to pretend that things could just go back to the same way they’d been before, they couldn’t. And both of you knew it.

“I’m sorry Jin,” you let out a sob of your own. “I never meant for things to turn out this way.”

Jin hardens at your sobs, straightening up, the sadness on his face morphing into a mask of fury.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?!” he bellows. “Sorry doesn’t cut it! This was supposed to be our dream house, ___! That's why I went through all the stupid decorations and the revamp! You think I like saloons? No! But this was supposed to be our dream! Us, together! It’s always been ___ and Jin. I don’t know how to be anything without you! I don’t want anything to change. I love you!”

You embrace his trembling body, pulling it in close to yours.

“I love you too Jin. I always have, and I always will. But I’m not sure that love is enough anymore.”

Jin pulls away from you, and you watch his eyes widen in surprise, giving you the strength to go on.

“When we were out there, something changed. I realized that while what we had was perfect, it’s okay to not be perfect all the time. Not everything is a dream come true. Sometimes things don’t turn out the way you want them to, and that’s life. A-and I want to experience life Jin. I’m sick of just smiling all the time. I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to laugh. And I want that for you too.”

“All I’ve ever wanted was you,” Jin breathes out softly. “It feels like I failed you.”

“Hey,” you reach out to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “You didn’t fail me, or anyone else, okay? You’re enough. Maybe it’s time for us to stop being ___ and Jin. And to be just ___. And just Jin.”

He looks up at you, stars in his eyes, and you can see the sadness intertwined with hopefulness. “You really think we can find something better out there? Something that makes leaving this all behind worth it?”

You take his hand in yours.

“I know we can. And we will. But we can’t do it together. At least not right now.”

A tiny smile breaks out onto his face. “But maybe someday?”

You hesitate, not wanting to believe in false hope only to turn out devastated in the end. But Jin needed something to believe in. And so did you.

“Maybe someday, when we both have found out what makes us happy, what our reason is to live, we’ll find love again. We both deserve it.”

And Jin crumples for a second time in your arms that night, only this time it’s not from devastation. It’s the kindness in your voice that has him desperately believing that you could be right. That maybe someday both of you would figure out what these strange and complex emotions were - joy, happiness, fun. And real love. True love. They were, after all, what being a human was all about.

You thank the taxi driver, hopping out of the vehicle. Flexing your feet, you remark at how comfortable the new pink slides feel on them, your heels no longer arched and uncomfortably cramping. The sales associate had called them Birkenstocks, and you make a mental note to go back and buy a few other colors. 

The building is tall, sleek and modern not unlike the scary headquarters of some rich corporation that seeks to swindle the money of innocent consumers. But today, you’re not scared to go inside this building. You’re excited.

The excitement follows you up the elevator, a smile on your face. Hearing the ding! for your floor, you make your way out, when you’re stopped by the old woman next to you.

“You have a beautiful smile, dear.”

That only makes it grow wider.

“Thank you, you look beautiful too.”

You don’t know why, but the serene and dazed look on her face stays with you as you enter the glass doors to the office.

Making your way to the front desk, you practice the carefully rehearsed lines in your head. When you reach it, the receptionist is tapping away at the keyboard. 

“Hi!” You say brightly. “My name is ___ ____. I’m here for my gynecologist appointment!”

The receptionist finally peers out from behind the screen and you suck in a breath. Something about him seems so familiar. Broad shoulders, pouty lips, dark hair. But in your entire human life, you never recalled seeing him before. The weird sense of deja vu continues when he opens his mouth to speak.

“Nice to meet you, ___, and welcome to Bangtan Center for Women’s Health. My name is Ken Seokjin and I’ll be happy to help you get checked in today!”

You don’t know why you flush at his words, but you fidget with your fingers behind your back, hoping he can’t see you.

“Great Mr. Ken! It’s my first time here, so I’m kind of nervous.”

“Just call me Jin,” he smiles. “I’m happy to help out.”

He pauses for a moment, ears turning red, before continuing on:

“Say, you look really familiar. Have we met somewhere before?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” you grin, before faltering. “But I don’t think so.”

“Well in that case, it’s nice to meet you again.” He reaches out over the counter, offering his hand, and you don't hesitate before enveloping it in yours, shivering at its warmth.

“Nice to meet you as well, just Jin.”

a/n pt. 2:  I realize this kind of deviated from the movie and some of its themes, but I had to make it work with their relationship hehe. As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi &lt;3

[hazbin-a-helluvamagines]

Alastor 📻

Puppy Hybrid S/O

S/O Goes To Someone Else For Comfort

Andrealphus

Nothing yet!

Angel Dust 💋

Puppy Hybrid Boyfriend

Boyfriend Goes To Someone Else For Comfort

Asmodeus 🐓

Shy, Human Male S/O With Metahuman Abilities

Barbie Wire ⛓️

Nothing yet!

Beelzebub 🍯

Shy, Human Male S/O With Metahuman Abilities

Cuffing Male Reader To The Bed (One-Shot)

Blitzø 🐴

S/O That Loves Rollercoasters And Theme Parks

S/O Who Tries To "Tank" Through Everything

Chubby S/O

Carmilla Carmine 🩰

Adopted Son With Androphobia And Depression

Charlie Morningstar 🌈

SFW & NSFW Dating HCs With Male S/O

Boyfriend With Androphobia And Depression

Charlie "Demon-Domming" (One-Shot)

Cuddling Headcanons

Cherri Bomb 🍒

Nothing yet!

Crimson 🩸

Nothing yet!

Emily 💐

Boyfriend With Androphobia And Depression

Cuddling Headcanons

Fizzarolli 🤡

Shy, Human Male S/O With Metahuman Abilities

Chubby S/O

Little Sister Reader

Husk 🍾

S/O Goes To Someone Else For Comfort

Loona 🌙

Shy, Human Male S/O With Metahuman Abilities

Childhood Friend S/O

Nerdy Male S/O

Male S/O Who's A Little Shorter Than Blitzø

With A Ditzy Bimbo Girlfriend

SFW & NSFW HCs With Shy Male S/O

Lucifer Morningstar 👑

Platonic Yandere Lucifer x Adoptive Child

Martha 🍖

Nothing yet!

Millie 🗡

Chubby S/O

SFW & NSFW HCs With Shy Male S/O

Moxxie 🎱

Being Best Friends With Moxxie

Mrs. Mayberry 🌺

Nothing yet!

Niffty 🧹

Nothing yet!

Octavia 🪺

Childhood Friend S/O

Nerdy Male S/O

With A Ditzy Bimbo Girlfriend

Paimon 🪶

Nothing yet!

Rosie 🥀

Adopted Son With Androphobia And Depression

Sallie May 🧨

Nothing yet!

Sera ☀️

Adopted Son With Androphobia And Depression

Sir Pentious 🐍

Nothing yet!

Stella 🪽

Nothing yet!

Stolas 🦉

Nothing yet!

Striker 🪓

Ex!Striker Finding Out His S/O Now Works For Blitzø

Vaggie 🎀

Nothing yet!

Valentino 🚬

Nothing yet!

Velvette 📱

SFW & NSFW Dating HCs With Male S/O

Male Assistant Who's Injured By Valentino During A Tantrum

Verosika Mayday 🎤

Cute Idol S/O

Cute Idol S/O Part II: Lies In Love

Cute Idol S/O Part III: Mine, Bitch

Little Sister Reader

Childhood Friend S/O

Sweet Tomboy Girlfriend

Puppy Hybrid S/O

Little Sibling In Fizzarolli's Situation

SFW & NSFW Dating HCs With Male S/O

Boyfriend With Androphobia And Depression

With A Model Best Friend

Cuddling Headcanons

Vortex 🐺

Nothing yet!

Vox 🖥

Nothing yet!

[going-fucking-insane]

<<About me>>:

Hi, you've just entered @satan-wh3n-i-catch-y0u-satan, blog!

My Instagram😎(more active here and there)

My Twitter/X🤷

My Pinterest🤙

My YouTube👍

I like a LOT of fandoms:

-Helluva Boss

-Hazbin Hotel

-The Amazing digital circus 

-Murder drones 

-Rottmnt

-Tottmnt (Not so much tho) 

-Lackadaisy (Same as Tottmnt)

-Bluey

-My Life as a Teenage Robot

And I like a LOT of ships (including a few crackships):

HB: Stolitz, M&M, Honeymoon, Vassago x Andrealphus & Verbie (Ik, not a lot)

HH: Huskerdust, Chaggie, Radiohusk (don't ask), Cherrisnake, Radiostatic, Applestatic, Applecider/Royalflush, Statichusk (just don't ask), Radiorose, Radioapple, AngelicSmiles/RadioHalo & lucilith

TADC: Funnybunny, Jesterdoll/buttonblossom, Scardeylovers, Abstrabbit, Ribbondoll, Abstragedy, Checkmates, Bluetooth, Kinger x Queenie x Caine, RoyalTeeth, Ragazoob & Gummybunny

MD: NUzi, VUzi, Vhad, Vizzy, Dizzy, OilRose, Khori, Jessa, Teacher x Alice, Jhad & NUziV

Rottmnt: RaphCass, AprilCass & April x Sunita (Not much)

Tottmnt: Leopril (Yeah, not much either)

Lackadaisy: Ivy x Freckle (Yeah, also not much)

Bluey: Bluekenzie, Bingo x Lila & Bluey x Jean Luc (not very much tho) [IK, THEY'RE KIDS BUT IT'S SO HARD NOT TO SHIP THEM😭]

Mlaatr: Jenny x Brad (I mean.. yeah)

The LOTS characters I simp for:

HB: Sallie May, Verosika, Barbie Wire, Beezlebub & 💕Satan💕

HH: Lilith, Velvette, Rosie & Carmilla

TADC: Gangle (Heh, surprise...), possessed Pomni(HEAR ME OUT—), Martha & Zooble [Jax was a used to be]

MD: SD-V

Rottmnt: 💕Leo💕

My OCs:

HB: Selena (I think it's obvious)

TADC: Marc (selfshipped with Zooble) and Lolu (selfshipped with Jax bcos bro needs a girl)

MD: SD-Y (selfshipped with V)

Rottmnt: Lunna (selfshipped with Leo)

Lackadaisy: Alice (selfshipped with Rocky)

If you ask, I'm: 💓💛💙 & 🖤🤍💜

I HATE MYSELF RAHHHHHHH

Thoughts on some episodes:

Mastermind

Tadc episode 4

Merry Sinsmas

Ideas:

Tadc x Wicked -> Pomni

Satan x reader (Hadestown)

And after making a tadc au, I made a blog👍: @the-amazing-digital-land-of-oz