𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒.

𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑇𝑖𝑒𝑠

A/N: Here is Part 2 of ‘I Love You, I’m Sorry’ for all my lovelies that requested it! I tried to write it to where it has even more angst, and I hope you all enjoy! :)

Word Count: 2.3k

TW: Mentions of Suicide (If you or a loved one is suffering, I urge you to reach out for help, you are loved even if you cannot see it), Aruging, Toxic ex-relationship.

The city of Piltover always hummed with life, its streets alive with industry and ambition. Tonight, however, it felt subdued, as though the city itself shared your unease. You walked aimlessly, boots scuffing against cobblestones worn smooth by countless steps. The festival lanterns glowed faintly in the distance, their light flickering like dying embers.

Your mind refused to quiet. It circled back again and again to Vi—to her laughter, her fire, the way she’d make even the darkest corners of Zaun feel like home. But those memories now carried an edge, cutting deep whenever they surfaced. You’d spent so many nights hoping she’d return, only to realize that hope could be a double-edged sword. Sometimes, it kept you alive. Other times, it made the fall so much worse.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You thought about the first time you’d met her. It had been at a Zaunite rally, a chaotic clash of voices demanding justice. You had been there to observe, to report back to your Piltover contacts about the growing unrest below. But then she’d stepped onto a crate in the center of the crowd, her pink hair catching the faint light as she spoke with raw, unyielding passion. Her words had seared into your soul, leaving you questioning everything you thought you believed.

“If we’re going to survive,” she’d said, her voice ringing clear above the noise, “we have to stop begging for scraps. We’re not the broken pieces of Piltover’s machine. We’re the ones who’ll tear it down and build something better.”

Even now, you could feel the electricity of that moment, the way her conviction had drawn you in like a moth to a flame. You hadn’t known it then, but that was the night your life had begun to split in two. There was the you that belonged to Piltover, its orderly streets and gilded towers. And then there was the you that longed for something more—for her.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The sound of footsteps pulled you back to the present. You looked up and saw someone walking toward you. For a brief, gut-wrenching moment, you thought it might be Vi. But as the figure drew closer, you saw that it was a man, hunched and shrouded in a heavy coat. He gave you a passing glance before disappearing into the shadows, leaving you alone once more.

You sighed and turned down a narrow alley, the noise of the festival fading behind you. This part of the city was quieter, almost eerily so. The buildings here were older, their facades cracked and weathered by time. It reminded you of Zaun in a way, though the air was cleaner and the streets more stable underfoot.

Your thoughts drifted to Caitlyn Kiramman, Piltover’s golden enforcer. She’d always been an enigma to you, with her poised demeanor and piercing gaze. Vi had spoken of her often, always with a mixture of admiration and frustration. “She’s too good for this city,” Vi had once said. “Too good for me, too. But she’s got this… way of seeing things, you know? Like she’s already ten steps ahead of everyone else.”

You hadn’t known what to say to that. The jealousy that prickled at the edges of your thoughts was ugly, but undeniable. You had wondered, even then, if Caitlyn was the reason Vi’s heart always felt just out of reach. And now, after what you’d seen tonight, you couldn’t help but feel you’d been right.

The kiss between them had been so… certain. So unguarded. It had felt like the final nail in the coffin of everything you and Vi had built together. You tried to remind yourself that she deserved happiness, that Caitlyn’s steady presence might be what Vi needed. But the thought only twisted the knife deeper.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You stopped walking and leaned against a lamppost, the cool metal grounding you. The city stretched out below, a labyrinth of light and shadow. Somewhere out there, Vi was laughing, living, moving on. And you? You were stuck here, caught in the liminal space between what was and what could never be.

“What am I even doing?” you muttered to no one in particular. The words dissipated into the night, unanswered.

Your gaze drifted upward, toward the towering skyline of Piltover. You’d spent years climbing its social ladder, trying to carve out a space where you could make a difference. You’d believed in its promise of progress, in the idea that change could come from within. But now, all you could see were the cracks—the lies and corruption that seeped through the city’s polished exterior. Vi had seen them too, but she’d never shared your faith that they could be repaired.

“Piltover doesn’t change,” she’d told you once, her voice heavy with resignation. “It just finds new ways to keep people in their place.”

At the time, you’d argued with her, insisting that things could be different. But now, in the aftermath of her absence, you weren’t so sure. Maybe she’d been right all along. Maybe your efforts were nothing more than a fool’s errand.

The sound of distant laughter reached your ears, and you turned instinctively toward it. A group of festival-goers passed by, their faces bright with joy. You watched them for a moment, feeling like an outsider looking in. Once, you might have been among them, caught up in the revelry. But tonight, it felt impossible. The weight of your grief was too heavy to set aside, even for a moment.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You pushed off the lamppost and kept walking, the streets growing quieter as you moved further from the festival. Your feet carried you toward the border between Piltover and Zaun, a place you’d avoided for months. It was a strange sort of no-man’s-land, a place where the two cities bled into each other without ever truly meeting. Here, the air was thicker, the lights dimmer. It felt like a fitting backdrop for your mood.

You stopped at the edge of a rusted bridge, the same one Vi had once described in her dreams of a wedding. She’d envisioned it covered in lights, filled with people from both cities coming together to celebrate something real. But now, it stood empty and decayed, a monument to everything that had gone wrong.

The thought crept in quietly, unbidden but persistent. What if you just… let go? The bridge loomed over the murky depths of the water below, its surface reflecting the faint glow of distant lanterns. You stepped closer to the edge, the wind tugging at your coat. For a moment, you imagined the release—the quiet, the stillness. No more pain. No more longing.

But as you gripped the railing, a voice cut through the fog of your thoughts. “Hey!”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You froze, your heart lurching as you turned to see Vi standing at the other end of the bridge. Her pink hair caught the faint glow of the city lights, her broad shoulders framed against the night sky. She looked different—tired, older somehow—but the fire in her eyes was unmistakable.

“Vi,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The air between you felt charged, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid.

She stepped closer, her expression unreadable. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Funny,” you replied bitterly, stepping away from the edge. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight either. Especially not with her.”

Vi’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing. “So that’s what this is about? You spying on me now?”

“I wasn’t spying,” you snapped. “I was just… there. And I saw enough.”

She crossed her arms, her posture defensive. “You don’t get to judge me. You don’t know what it’s been like these past few months.”

“Don’t I?” you shot back, the anger you’d been holding back finally boiling over. “You think you’re the only one who’s been hurting? I’ve been trying to hold everything together, Vi. For you. For us. And all this time, you were—” Your voice broke, the words catching in your throat. “You were moving on.”

“Moving on?” she echoed, her voice sharp. “You think that’s what this is? You think I wanted any of this? You don’t understand what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning, to grab onto anything just to keep your head above water.”

Your chest ached, her words cutting deeper than you thought possible. “I was there for you, Vi. I would’ve done anything for you. But you left. You left, and now you’re standing here acting like I’m the one who doesn’t understand?”

Her gaze softened for a moment, but then she shook her head, her expression hardening again. “I didn’t leave. I fought for what I believed in. And if you couldn’t handle that—if you couldn’t handle me—then maybe this was doomed from the start.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. You stared at her, tears blurring your vision, but you refused to let them fall. “Maybe it was,” you said quietly, the weight of your grief settling over you like a shroud. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Vi looked away, her jaw clenching as though she was holding back words she couldn’t bring herself to say. Her fists tightened at her sides, the leather of her gloves creaking under the pressure. For a moment, it seemed as if she might walk away again, leaving you with nothing but silence and the weight of her absence. But instead, she let out a ragged breath and turned back to you, her eyes shadowed with a pain that mirrored your own.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” she said, her voice cracking. “But what do you want me to say? That I didn’t screw up? That I didn’t let you down? I did. And I hate myself for it.”

Her admission hit you like a punch to the gut. You’d dreamed of hearing her say those words, of having her acknowledge the chasm that had opened between you. But now that she had, it didn’t feel like the closure you’d hoped for. It felt like another wound, raw and bleeding.

“You don’t get to hate yourself,” you said bitterly. “You don’t get to take the easy way out. You don’t get to kiss someone else and then come here acting like you’re the victim.”

Vi flinched, her eyes narrowing. “You think it’s easy? Being with Caitlyn, pretending I’m okay when every part of me feels like it’s falling apart? She’s safe. She doesn’t make me feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to fall.”

The words stung, and you took an involuntary step back. “So that’s what I was to you? A risk? Something dangerous you needed to escape from?”

“No,” Vi said quickly, her voice desperate. “You were everything. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? I couldn’t handle it. You saw me as something more than I could be—as someone better than I am.”

“I saw you as someone worth fighting for,” you countered, your voice rising. “But you couldn’t do the same for me. You couldn’t even stay.”

Vi ran a hand through her hair, her frustration palpable. “It wasn’t about not wanting to stay. It was about surviving. Every time I looked at you, I saw everything I couldn’t have—everything I wanted but couldn’t hold onto. And it killed me.”

“Then why are you here now?” you demanded, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. “Why did you stop me if you’ve already moved on? What do you want from me, Vi?”

She stared at you, her lips parted as though she had an answer but couldn’t bring herself to say it. The silence between you stretched, heavy and suffocating. Finally, she whispered, “I don’t know.”

You laughed bitterly, the sound devoid of humor. “That’s just like you, isn’t it? Always running, always unsure. You’re so afraid of being vulnerable that you’d rather destroy everything than risk getting hurt.”

Vi’s eyes flashed with anger, but she didn’t deny it. Instead, she took a step closer, her voice low and trembling. “And what about you? Huh? You think standing on the edge of that bridge is brave? You think giving up is some kind of statement?”

“It’s not about bravery,” you shot back. “It’s about not knowing how to keep going when everything feels so goddamn empty.”

Her face crumpled, and for a moment, she looked like she might break. But then she straightened, her shoulders squared. “You keep going because you’re stronger than this. Because you’re better than this.”

“Am I?” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I don’t feel strong. I don’t feel better. I feel broken, Vi. And you’re part of the reason why.”

The words hung between you like a dagger, sharp and unrelenting. Vi reached out as if to touch you, but her hand faltered, hovering in the air before falling back to her side. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice barely audible. “For everything.”

But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. You took a step back, shaking your head. “Sorry doesn’t fix this. It doesn’t bring us back. It doesn’t make me whole again.”

Vi nodded, her expression hollow. “I know.”

And with that, the distance between you felt insurmountable. She stood there, framed by the faint glow of Piltover’s lights, and you realized that this was the end. There would be no mending, no reconciliation. The chasm between you had grown too wide, and neither of you had the strength to bridge it.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the stillness. Vi didn’t call after you, and you didn’t look back. The weight of everything you’d lost pressed down on you, but for the first time, you knew it was a burden you’d have to carry alone.

Above you, the stars shone cold and distant, offering no comfort.

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢! ❤️

𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟.

Okay, So I'm the only girl on my team at work. And I'm telling y’all, regardless of age or relationship status, guys absolutely get excited when you give them stuff. Even if they act like they don't. All I can do is imagine how this would work with the 141.

Like imagine you make Gaz a bracelet. It's nothing too crazy, just a single strand of green pony beads. It didn't even take a lot to make it. Just some small, homemade thing that you give to him while you've got some down time between tasks.

He absolutely lights up, smiling wide, eyes bright. He thanks you with a side hug and a kiss to your temple. It's more than what you were expecting, but you're not gonna complain.

You don't think much of it, and move on with your business, nearly forgetting about the bracelet… until Soap interrupts you at the gym, demanding to know why Gaz got one and not him.

You didn't think he wanted one, and you certainly didn't think he'd be so distraught over something so silly. So, you promise him a bracelet, and you deliver it to him the next day. A single strand blue bracelet.

Johnny's ecstatic, grinning like a kid on Christmas. He gives you a bear hug, and a messy kiss to your cheek, practically singing your praise as he leaves.

Price is next. But thankfully you don't give him a chance to ask. You had noticed the way his gaze lingers on the bracelets that Gaz and Soap have, the small frown he's got after talking to them.

You make him a yellow one, and drop it off on his desk with some paperwork. No need for all the fanfare or even the chance he might reject it. He doesn't. He does bring you your favorite drink, his way of saying thanks. And the yellow bracelet is on his wrist the whole time.

Ghost is last, only because you didn't think he'd want one. But ever since Price got his, Ghost has been waiting with baited breath for one. He's not going to outright ask, will even scoff if Soap or Gaz brag about it. But he wants one!

It's late, when he drops by your barrack, quiet when you open the door. It takes him a moment to gather the courage. But eventually, he holds his hand out, asking where his bracelet is.

When you admit you hadn't made him one, he's a little hurt. You're teammates. Why wouldn't he want one? But you invite him into your barrack, letting him sit with you as you make the bracelet. It's just black, his color of course, but he leaves, smiling under the mask.

Oh, and when you show up for the next briefing with your own bracelet, a repeating pattern of green, blue, yellow and black, no one comments on it. But it's hard to ignore the way they all smile at you, a soft look in their eyes.

Hi, can u do Vi x Reader. Where Vi and Reader are hanging out with Caitlyn till they stop by a candy store. Reader was squealing happily and ran to the store and got Bean Boozled Candy. Vi and Caitlyn were nervous because they are good and bad ones. They went to Caitlyn’s place in the kitchen and got started. Vi was sweating a little bit and Reader was excited. The first round was blueberry and toothpaste. Vi and Reader got the good one while Caitlyn got the toothpaste. On the second round, it was Carmel corn or moldy cheese. Reader and Caitlyn got the one while Vi got the bad one and she spit immediately and making disgusting faces. On the final round, it was licorice or skunk spray. Reader got the good one but Vi and Caitlyn got the bad one and they went to kitchen to get water to rinse it out. Vi was feeling funny and she went to the sink and throw up. 

𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚜

A/N: I woke up to this request and might I say it made me laugh so hard. Definitely brings me back to when I was younger doing this challenge with my siblings. Also you’re my first request on this blog, congrats!! <3

Word Count: 0.6k

TW: Vomit

Reader is gender-neutral

It had been a casual afternoon spent with Caitlyn, and Vi didn’t think it could get any better—or worse—until the three of you stumbled upon a small candy store. The bright display of sweets immediately caught your attention, and before Vi could say anything, you let out a squeal of excitement. “Oh my gosh! They have Bean Boozled! We have to play!” you exclaimed, practically bouncing on your heels.

Vi and Caitlyn exchanged wary glances. They both knew about the infamous candy game—jelly beans that looked identical but could taste like anything from blueberries to skunk spray. Vi scratched the back of her neck while Caitlyn adjusted her gloves, clearly apprehensive. “You sure about this, babe?” Vi asked, side-eyeing the brightly colored package you were clutching to your chest. “Positive!” you chirped, already heading toward the checkout counter.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Back at Caitlyn’s pristine kitchen, you were practically vibrating with excitement while Vi leaned against the counter, arms crossed, and Caitlyn meticulously read the instructions as if she were preparing for an interrogation. “Alright,” Caitlyn announced, setting the box down. “First round—blueberry or toothpaste.” You spun the little wheel and handed out the blue jelly beans, grinning from ear to ear.

“Here goes nothing,” Vi muttered, popping the jelly bean into her mouth. Her face lit up almost immediately. “Oh! Blueberry! Not bad.” You grinned as you chewed yours. “Same! So good!” Caitlyn, however, chewed slowly before grimacing. “Toothpaste,” she admitted with a slight frown. “It’s minty, but honestly, not the worst thing in the world.”

The second round—caramel corn or moldy cheese—had Vi already starting to sweat. You spun the wheel again and handed out the jelly beans, and the three of you bit down simultaneously. Vi’s reaction was immediate. “Gah!” she yelped, spitting the jelly bean into a napkin as her face twisted in utter disgust. “Oh, no! That’s definitely moldy cheese!” You and Caitlyn burst into laughter as Vi grabbed a glass of water to rinse her mouth. “Caramel corn!” you cheered, savoring the sweet flavor. Caitlyn nodded, holding her candy like a prize. “Same here,” she said with a smug grin. “Guess you got the short end of the stick this time, Vi.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vi grumbled, still grimacing. “Let’s just get this over with.” The final round was the ultimate test—licorice or skunk spray. You handed out the black jelly beans, and the tension in the room was palpable.

“Ready?” you asked, your eyes gleaming with mischief. “Not even a little,” Vi replied, narrowing her eyes at the jelly bean. “Three… two… one!”

You bit into yours and immediately grinned. “Licorice! Yes!”

Meanwhile, Vi and Caitlyn froze as the taste hit them. Caitlyn’s face turned green as she bolted to the sink, groaning, “Oh, no! Skunk spray!” Vi’s eyes went wide, and a horrified expression spread across her face. “This is disgusting!” she sputtered, rushing to the sink right after Caitlyn. She grabbed a glass of water and frantically rinsed her mouth, but it wasn’t enough. Moments later, Vi bent over the sink and retched, the taste lingering far longer than she’d like.

“Vi, are you okay?” you asked, half-concerned, half-laughing. “Never again,” Vi groaned, glaring at the box of candies as if it had personally offended her.

“You’re way too good at this, babe.” Shrugging with a cheeky grin, you popped another jelly bean into your mouth. “What can I say? It’s a gift.” Caitlyn, still sipping water to wash the taste from her mouth, shook her head with a small smile. “Next time, we’re picking something a little less… hazardous.”

Vi shot her a look. “Next time? Yeah, no thanks. I’m retiring from jelly beans for life.” The three of you laughed about it for the rest of the evening—though Vi made sure to steer you far away from any candy stores on the walk home.

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢! 🩷

𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦: @𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑠-𝑛-𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒

I’m so obsessed with Tara’s writing I might just cry.

what a heavenly way to die || the proxies

‘forever is in your eyes, but forever ain’t half the time’

sum: after being stranded in the middle of a snow storm, you’re forced to take shelter with masky, hoodie, and toby. you need to stay warm, by any means necessary

tw:SMUT, FILTHY, LONG, AGGRESSIVE SMUT, foursome kinda? idk?, sub!reader, soft dom!masky, hard dom!hoodie, sub!toby, gun play, overstimulation, exhibitionism, lowkey throat fucking, praise, humiliation, power dynamics lowkey do be in place

a/n: FOR ALL OF MY OG HITCHHIKER BABIES <3

“But I don’t wanna wear gloves!”

“Toby if you don’t wear gloves, your fingers are gonna fall off.”

Masky’s voice was hoarse, his patience thinning the longer he walked. Not even a fresh cigarette could make this situation any better. Only some shit like this would happen to him.

On the way back from an assignment the car ran out of gas, courtesy of allowing Hoodie to drive for more than five minutes. Now with the tank on E, the four of you were stranded in the middle of no where. Snow fell from the sky, coating each of you more and more by the second. Hoodie seemed perfectly content with his offense, minus the occasional shiver. Toby couldn’t comprehend the need to wear so many layers, the kid practically fighting for the right to freeze to death. Masky found himself silently regretting his choice of a mask, his gaze landing on you.

Normally he discounted your presence, you being the newest member of the group. But he’d be lying to himself if he shrugged you off. Although you had only been around for a few years now, for such a tiny little thing you sure pulled your weight. He never thought much of you at first, your small stature and loud mouth telling him everything he could ever want to know. But over the years of enslavement together you simmered down, sometimes more quiet than Hoodie. Masky could deal with his silence, having been dragged into this shit show by his hand.

But you? He couldn’t handle it.

His dark gaze landed on you, looming over your shaking form like a dark cloud. You always wore skimpy clothing, even if not practical. This happened to be one of those times, your skirt riding up your thighs and knee high socks failing to conceal the goosebumps that littered your skin. “Cold, kid?” Masky asked, ignoring his own shaky fingertips as he took a drag of his cigarette. The four of you had been hiking for what felt like hours, more and more of your limbs becoming numb by the second. “T-Told ya life wasn’t a f-fashion show,” Toby chimed in, clearly enjoying the weather.

“Can it, you ticking time bomb,” Masky interjected, frowning. He noted the way you avoided his gaze, as if you were afraid of judgment. But why? You had never given a shit about his opinion before. He grunted to himself as he shrugged off his signature mustard jacket, forcefully shoving it on your shoulders.

“But you’ll freeze-”

“Put it on and don’t bitch about it.”

His voice was stern and full of authority, threatening you to question it. His mask hid his satisfied expression as he watched you put it on. “Any plans here boss? Or do we plan on camping out here?” Hoodie asked sarcastically. It was in moments like these Masky was thankful the two of them wore mask, his distain written all over his face. “We just need to keep heading south like boss ordered,” Masky huffed, blowing cigarette smoke out into the cold night air. Tensions were arising quickly, the freezing cold fizzling out any trust that had been formed.

“Head south? Are you on crack or delusional? Toby’s fingers are so frost bitten they’re about to snap off and the kid is so fuckin cold i’m surprised she’s able to stand at all,” Hoodie barked, his words laced with venom. Masky didn’t like to go off schedule. He didn’t like to piss off The Operator. If it were him and him alone, he’d continue walking south until he either made it or The Operator himself found him. However, as his eyes raked in the sight of his companions, he realized Hoodie was right.

“Fine, we’ll have a sleepover. Follow me. I saw smoke over this way,” Masky agreed reluctantly, tossing his cigarette bud carelessly onto the ground. Toby began to yap about Masky being a litter bug, earning him a knock upside the head from Hoodie. The silent proxy gritted his teeth, annoyed with Masky neglecting to tend to them sooner.

“You saw signs of civilization and just now told us? How long would you have let us walk before we fuckin froze to death?” Hoodie questioned, his gaze so deadly Masky could feel holes burning into his back. You awkwardly tugged his jacket closer to you, your breath shallow. “He’s k-kinda right, kinda an asshole move,” You said softly, completely exhausted from marching in a borderline snow storm. Masky’s gaze softened for a moment, before noticing Toby had taken off his gloves. “We need to get going before this dipshit loses his fingers,” Masky grumbled, shrugging off the issue at hand. The three of you trailed behind him, satisfaction washing over you as a cabin came into sight.

You weren’t an advocate for death, but you quite literally would’ve killed someone for a warm spot in that cabin. The four of you burst inside, scanning the room for any sign of human life. None of you could deny your eagerness to be warm. A small fire crackled in the background in the fireplace, providing a soft orange glow to the room. Masky gestured Toby to follow him upstairs, leaving you and Hoodie to scope out the remainder of the first floor. “Any guesses on why it’s abandoned like this?” You asked the taller proxy, avoiding his lingering gaze. Hoodie tended to be a bit unsettling sometimes, whether he meant to be or not.

“My guess? Some rich couple cut their honeymoon short and hauled ass once they saw the forecast,” Hoodie said blandly, shrugging off his ski mask. It had been a while since you had seen his face, his stubble grown out more than you could remember. “Good for us then,” You mumbled, averting your eyes. You stared at the ground so much you tended to forget what your fellow proxies faces looked like. Footsteps trampling down the stairs regained your attention, your head snapping in the direction. “Good news, place is ours. Bad news, the only heat source is that lovely fireplace right there,” Masky said, sitting down in front of the small couch. The three of you followed his lead, crowding around the tiny fireplace.

“This is your grand plan?” Hoodie questioned, his distrust visible on his face with his mask off. Masky fought the urge to light another cigarette, bringing his knees to his chest. “The fireplace as well as our body heat is enough to survive. Unless you have a better idea, be quiet,” Masky replied dryly. Toby took the opportunity to lay his head in your lap, a place he had been time and time again. You had taken on this role long ago, stroking his chestnut hair until the unpredictable ticking time bomb fell asleep. Tonight was no exception, even as you settled in next to Masky.

You ignored the ever growing tension that sprouted with each second as your arms touched, the smell of his cologne mixed with tobacco flooding your nostrils. Tensions were ever growing as your arm brushed against his, your energies so magnetic it made you unmistakably nervous. Nervous. You never felt nervous in any other situation. But around Masky? Especially close like this? You might as well have been a flirty high school girl. Hoodie ignored the three of you, jumping over the arm of the couch and making himself comfortable. He was always reserved like that, refusing to touch any of you unless he was back handing Toby. The couch squeaked under his weight, the squeaks continuing until the older proxy got settled.

You continued to play with Toby’s hair, swirling your fingers around his scalp. “Warm enough kid?” Masky asked, his voice more rough than usual. You tried to avoid staring, noticing him taking off his mask out of the corner of your eye. You wanted nothing more than to soak in his features, especially since his mask was practically glued to his face a majority of the time. Instead you forced yourself gaze to remain forward, watching the fire flicker. “I suppose,” You mumbled, catching a knot in Toby’s hair. You refrained from cringing as you brushed it through with your fingers, thankful he couldn’t feel pain as he slept soundly. The sound of Hoodie’s soft snores put Masky a little more at ease, his next words something he wouldn’t admit to the other two men next to you.

“You were right about earlier. I was an asshole, I should’ve had us head here to begin with,” Masky admitted timidly. He didn’t like being the leader, that role automatically assigned to him like it was his birth right. What he didn’t like even more than that, was admitting that he was wrong. He expected ridicule, which he would’ve gotten if you were Hoodie or Toby. But instead you laid your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against the fabric of his sweater. “I know you were just trying to please The Operator,” You whispered. You continued playing with Toby’s hair, ensuring your hand didn’t stop. You glanced up in his direction, soaking in his thick eyebrows and awkward side burns. His chocolate eyes met yours unsurely, an eyebrow raising.

“What are you doing to me kid?” Masky grumbled, his own heart beginning to race. This was bad news, feeling this way towards you. But the orange glow against your skin had him reeling in his own skin. “You tell me boss,” You whispered back, edging your lips towards his. It caught you off guard that Masky made the first move, planting his lips against yours. His lips were as chapped as yours, his taste a recognized mixture of mint and cigarettes. You melted under his touch, eagerly kissing him back. He was intoxicating, his large hand slipping into your hair.

You could feel your core throbbing with desire, your cheeks flushing pink as you realized this. Being a proxy didn’t exactly equate a productive sex life, your body longing for the touch of another human. You couldn’t get enough of his lips, his desperation. It was just as passionate as yours, both of you longing for human compassion. You shuddered as his large hand slithered down to your thigh, your legs parting instantly. His cold fingertips trailed up your sensitive skin, tracing your skin teasingly. You held back a soft groan, Masky eager to hear you make sinful noise for him. He was so close to your core, your body shuddering at the idea-

“What the fuck are you two doing?”

Hoodies voice was sharp, abruptly interrupting your lustful daze. Love affairs between proxies was forbidden, a strict rule made clear to you by The Operator. While he gave the same speech to Kate, he knew that her feralness would unintentionally have her follow his rule to a T. You, however, were semi more mentally stable, with a knack for fashion and semi put together appearances. For the first time you saw panic across Masky’s eyes, causing you to clear your throat. “Sharing body warmth obviously, you cold Hoodie?” You asked, the lie leaving your lips before you had time to consider the repercussions. For a second you could’ve swore you saw a glimpse of Brian, a playful smirk crawling up his lips.

Your hand abandoned Toby’s hair, grabbing a handful of Hoodies coat to drag him closer to you. You managed to spare a moment of hesitation, dragging his lips to clash into yours. You were tense at first, unsure what the proxy would do. You were surprised to feel him meet your desperation all the same, the nagging realization of his similar loneliness crashing over you. Teeth clashed with teeth, his desperation resulting in a deeper kiss than you expected. You found yourself getting even more flushed, knowing Masky’s eyes were burning into yours. He took the opportunity to press his hand against your core, noting how damp your panties were already.

“You’re gonna wake the kid up,” Hoodie grunted, reluctant to pull away from your lips to begin with. Masky rubbed against your swollen slick, earning a small whimper from you. “I’m a-a-already up,” Toby said groggily, sitting up. You avoided his gaze as he soaked in the sinful sight in front him, Masky’s hand on your cunt and Hoodie’s lips mere centimeters from yours. You swallowed, your core throbbing at the idea of taking all three of them at once. After all, you had to convince yourself you weren’t lying. This entanglement was nothing more than an exchange of body heat, a way to keep warm.

Right?

You turned your head towards Toby swallowing nervously as you leaned forward to kiss him. It caught him off guard, his light grey cheeks forming a tint of pink as he matched your actions. Two sets of large hands rearranged you as you lost yourself into the kiss, your ass in the air as your skirt got flipped up. “Fuck,” Masky mumbled, his cold hand sending goosebumps across your skin. You could hear Hoodie moving on the couch, causing you to pull away from sucking on Toby’s bottom lip. The clinking of his belt fully caught your attention, your eyebrows raised. “Do you um, not wanna be warm?” You asked slowly. A pang of embarrassment shot through you, a creeping worry of his lack of desire for you arising. The taller proxy smirked, unzipping his jeans.

“I just wanna watch you get knocked down a few pegs, now go on and kiss Masky again,” Hoodie ordered, palming himself through his jeans. You turned to Masky, cheeks flushed red and heart pounding as you met his gaze. His pupils were blown with lust, his face in the softest state you had ever seen it. You met his lips eagerly, obeying Hoodies demand. Toby took the opportunity to come up behind you, his cold hands slipping under your shirt. Your hand slithered its way down to Masky’s crotch, palming his hard boner. You were satisfied to hear a small groan claw its way out of his throat, your lips eagerly swallowing it. You arched your back as Toby’s curious fingertips found their way to your breast, squeezing harshly at your perky nipples.

“N-No bra? You’re just d-d-dying to get fucked huh?” Toby snickered. Goosebumps trailed down your spine as you whimpered, nibbling on Masky’s bottom lip. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, soaking in his facial expression. “Let me suck you off,” You whispered, biting the inside of your cheek as Toby harshly twisted your left nipple. Masky seemed at a loss of words, something that rarely occurred to him. He looked over you, eyeing a mischievous Toby. “Hey kid, make yourself useful and let her ride your face,” He said, his words laced with authority. You couldn’t ignore the warmth that spread over you as Toby laid on his back, nuzzling himself between your knees.

“Sit back on his face princess,” Hoodie ordered, pulling his cock out of his boxers. Masky clenched his jaw, having momentarily forgotten Hoodie was even there. He watched your shaky hands fiddle with his belt, slowly lowering yourself onto Toby’s eager mouth. You nervously glanced down at the younger proxy, licking your dry lips. “You can uh, touch yourself you know, or something,” You offered unsurely, feeling him shove your panties to the side with his cold fingertips. Masky placed his hand on the back of your head, gently reminding you to focus. “He’ll figure it out kid, stop worryin’ so much,” Masky grumbled. You continued to focus on undressing him, whimpering as you felt Toby’s warm tongue dart in between your folds.

“This is taking way too fuckin long. Let’s speed things up shall we?” Hoodie asked, his cock already exposed and in hand. Your eyes widened as he took out his hand gun, clicking off the safety. “Get to sucking princess,” Hoodie barked. Toby continued to lap at your folds, his tongue messily flicking your clit. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Masky argued. His attention was diverted once you took him in your mouth, eagerly bobbing your head up and down on his hard cock. Hoodie smirked at your reaction, noting the way your thighs squeezed Toby’s head harder. “Look at her Mask. You think a girl like us isn’t into some freaky shit? Now shut up and enjoy it,” Hoodie snickered, stroking himself to the sight.

Toby was eager, his hand pumping his own shaft as he devoured your cunt. He couldn’t get enough of your taste, his soft groans muffled by your soaked folds. Your hips involuntarily grinded against his face, your own moans sending vibrations around Masky’s cock. The brunette tried to hide his own sinful noises, but you taking him to the base cancelled out any possibility of him being able to do so. His hand grabbed a handful of your hair, assertively guiding you up and down his cock. Hoodie couldn’t get enough of the sinful sight, your knees digging into the hard wood as you struggled to hold yourself up. He wouldn’t stop watching even if the world collapsed.

Meanwhile Masky was struggling to hold on, having spent years and years with his hand as his only companion. Your mouth was so warm and wet, your throat only making it harder to resist cumming right then and there. “Fuck kid, you’re gonna be the death of me,” He grunted, feeling your tongue swirl around his tip. Your eyes were already flooded with tears, your gaze meeting his as you deep throated him. It was embarrassing to Masky how fast he knew he was going to cum, your sweet face only bringing him closer to the edge. Hoodie noted this as well, noticing the way Masky’s hips began slowly stuttering. A sadistic thought came to mind, one that he knew would ensure a good time for every party involved.

Your orgasm was approaching quickly, your thighs squeezing Toby’s head so tightly you were almost worried about him. “Go on princess, that’s it. Ride Toby’s face like the good whore you are,” Hoodie purred, stroking himself. He enjoyed watching your micro expressions, your mannerisms. The way your eyebrows furrowed when Toby licked you just right. Masky momentarily pulled out of your mouth, craving to hear your moans. Your spare hand was tugging at Toby’s hair, whimpers clawing their way out of your throat. “Fuck, feels so good T-Toby-” You whined, tilting your head back. Precum and saliva covered your swollen lips, your gaze meeting Masky’s. “Can I cum? Fuck, please let me cum,” You whined, struggling to contain yourself. Masky smirked at your request, briefly giving Hoodie a cocky glance.

“Go on kid, cum for us,” He cooed. Words couldn’t describe the satisfaction he felt as you came on Tobys face, your eyes rolling back and legs shaking. You planned to get off, a click from Hoodies gun ripping you away from your ride of euphoria. “I didn’t tell you to get off, did I? Keep riding princess,” Hoodie barked. Toby was still as eager as ever, his mouth gratefully accepting you as you lowered back down onto him. He lapped at your slick, devouring your cum. “Nobody’s stopping until everyone cums. That’s only fair, isn’t it?” Hoodie asked mockingly. You rolled your tongue out across your bottom lip, presenting yourself for Masky to use. “Masky, please, let me taste you,” You pleaded, struggling to stay upright. The overstimulation was making your body twitch, the brunette quick to shove himself back in your mouth.

Something about this, watching you be overstimulated and cumming, drove Masky feral.

He was more aggressive this time, pulling your hair and forcing your jaw to go slack. You whined as you struggled to keep up, saliva trailing down the sides of your mouth. “Such a good hole for me to use, fuck,” Masky groaned. He could feel himself coming closer to his orgasm, his hips stuttering as he thrust one final time down your throat. His warm seed made you gag as you struggled to keep him in your mouth. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gripped his thighs, swallowing him whole. He pulled out of your mouth, watching you gulp for air. You were so pretty like this, your face fucked out and sounds nothing more than incoherent babbles. You could hear Toby’s groans growing louder as well, your thighs squeezing around his head as he came on his stomach. The three of you were spent, Toby’s tongue momentarily coming yo a pause.

The sound of Hoodies gun clicking caught all three of your attention, the taller proxy not hiding his sadistic grin. “Not all of us have cum, have we?” He asked, sending a shiver of fear and arousal down your spine. “Keep sucking princess,” He barked. His gaze landed on Toby, whose eyes were barely visible from between your thighs.

“And keep eating her out kid, I wanna see her squirm.”

𝐵𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑛

A/N: I’m so full of Angst ideas and I’m not sure why. I promise to write more fluffier, cheesy stuff later on down the road, but for now, take this anguish my lovelies. (I might make a part two of this, only because I liked it so much.)

Word Count: 2.2k

TW: Cussing, Arguments, Brian and Tim are toxic, grief.

Reader is a female!

The apartment door slammed shut with a resounding crack, the force reverberating through the small space. You flinched, startled, and looked up from where you sat curled on the couch. Tim and Brian were back, their faces hard and unreadable, though the tension between them filled the room like smoke.

“It’s midnight, where the hell were you?!” you demanded, standing up as your voice quavered between anger and worry. Your heart pounded. They had been gone for hours with no word, leaving you to stew in an anxious cocktail of fear and frustration.

Tim tossed his jacket onto the back of the chair, not even sparing you a glance. “Out,” he muttered, the single word cutting through the air like a knife.

“Out? That’s all you’ve got to say?” You stepped closer, your fists clenched at your sides. “I was worried sick! You can’t just disappear for hours and not—”

“Are you even listening to me?” The words tumbled out, louder than you intended. The silence that followed was suffocating.

Brian leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were sharp, like he was sizing you up, ready to dismantle you piece by piece. “What more do you really want?” he sneered, his tone cold. “We’re back. Isn’t that enough?”

“Enough?” Your voice cracked. “You left me here, with no explanation, no text, nothing! Do you know what that feels like?”

Brian’s laugh was bitter, a sound devoid of warmth. “You’re so pathetic. Always clinging, always demanding.”

Your chest tightened, the words hitting harder than they should have. “What is wrong with you guys? I stayed up all night worrying about you. I thought you might’ve been hurt—or worse!” you snapped, though your voice wavered under the weight of Tim’s sharp glare.

Tim finally turned to you, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and something sharper. “Can you just fuck off already?” he said, his words devoid of emotion.

The ground felt like it was slipping beneath you. You stared at him, unable to process what he’d just said, eyes starting to form small beads, glistening when the kitchen light reflected off them.

Brian’s smirk widened as he tilted his head, his voice dripping with mockery. “Oh, is the poor little thing going to cry? Can’t handle a bit of truth, huh?”

You stood there, rooted in place, as the words rained down on you like blows you couldn’t dodge. Your chest tightened, each syllable slicing deeper, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The walls seemed to close in around you, the air growing heavier with every passing moment.

Tim remained unmoved, his gaze sharpening.

Brian pushed himself off the counter, his movements slow and deliberate as he walked past you, his shoulder brushing yours in a way that felt intentional. “Ever since we first met, you’ve been nothing but a burden,” he muttered, his voice low but clear enough to pierce through the din of your spiraling thoughts.

Something in you cracked. The fragile hope you’d held onto, that this was just a bad day and things would work themselves out, shattered completely. “Fine,” you said, your voice trembling but steady enough to carry the weight of your resolve. “Leave, then. Both of you. I don’t need this.”

For the first time, neither of them had a quick retort. They exchanged a glance—silent, unreadable—and without another word, Tim grabbed his jacket. Brian didn’t even bother to look back as they walked out the door.

The silence they left behind was deafening.

 ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

The door closed with a soft click this time, and the sound made your stomach twist. The fight was over, but it didn’t feel like a victory. The quiet that followed wasn’t peace—it was suffocating. You stood frozen in the center of the room, your arms hanging limply at your sides, heart hammering in your chest.  

You’d told them to leave. And they had.  

Tears pricked your eyes, blurring your vision as the weight of everything began to settle. Their words echoed in your mind, each one sharper than the last.  

“You’re so pathetic.”

“Can you just fuck off already?” 

“You’re nothing but a burden.”

Your knees buckled, and you sank onto the couch, trembling. You hugged yourself, as if you could somehow shield yourself from the bruises their words had left behind. It wasn’t the first time arguments like this had erupted between you three. The stress of working with the Operator, the endless, mind-numbing missions, and the constant danger had frayed everyone’s nerves. But tonight had been different.  

Tonight, they hadn’t just been angry—they’d been cruel.  

You wiped at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie, your breath hitching as the tears came faster. “Why did it have to be like this?” you whispered to no one.  

For a moment, you let yourself remember the good days—the laughter, the late nights spent curled up together, the small moments of tenderness that had made all the chaos bearable. You’d thought that those moments meant something, that they could carry you all through the worst of it.  

But maybe you were wrong.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second dragging on longer than the last. The apartment felt too big, too empty without their presence, even if that presence had been brimming with anger. You couldn’t stop replaying the argument in your head, trying to pinpoint the moment where everything had spiraled out of control.  

Had you pushed too hard? Or had they finally shown you what they truly thought of you?  

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, snapping you out of your thoughts. You reached for it with shaking hands, half-hoping it was one of them. Maybe Tim or Brian would apologize, or at least explain what had set them off so badly.  

But it wasn’t them. It was just a useless notification—a weather alert. You threw the phone back onto the table, the small hope you’d allowed yourself fizzling out as quickly as it had come.  

A cold wave of exhaustion swept over you. You pulled a blanket over your shoulders, curling into yourself as the tears continued to fall.  

  ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Hours passed, though you couldn’t tell how many. You didn’t sleep—how could you, with your mind racing and your chest aching like this? You wanted to hate them, wanted to banish their faces from your thoughts, but it was impossible.  

The door opened again sometime near dawn. The sound jolted you upright, your breath catching in your throat. For a split second, you thought maybe they’d come back to make things right.  

Tim stood in the doorway, looking drained and disheveled. Brian was behind him, his face an unreadable mask. Neither of them spoke at first.  

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice hoarse from crying.  

Tim looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “We forgot some stuff,” he muttered. “It’s not like we came back for you.”  

The sharpness of his words was dulled by his tone—it wasn’t cruel, just... hollow.  

Brian crossed the room without a word, grabbing a duffel bag from the corner and stuffing a few things into it. He didn’t even glance in your direction.  

The sight of them, so detached and indifferent, made something inside you snap. “That’s it?” you said, your voice trembling with anger and disbelief. “You’re just going to walk in here, grab your shit, and leave? After everything?”  

Tim turned to face you, his expression darkening. “What do you want me to say?” he snapped. “That we’re sorry? That everything’s fine now? It’s not.”  

“I don’t want your empty apologies,” you shot back. “I wanted you to care. I wanted you to try.”  

Brian finally spoke, his voice cold and sharp. “We’ve been trying. You think this is easy? You think we can just continue acting like everything’s fine when it’s not?”

“Do you even hear yourselves?” you said, your voice rising. “You’re blaming me for this—like I’m the one who’s broken us!”  

Tim’s jaw tightened. “Maybe you should look in the mirror, then.”  

The room fell silent again, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a heavy stone.  

You swallowed hard, blinking back the fresh tears that threatened to spill over. “If this is how little you think of me, then why did you stay for so long?”  

Neither of them answered.  

Brian slung the duffel bag over his shoulder, his expression unchanging. “We couldn’t handle faking it anymore,” he said.  

You stared at them, your chest heaving as anger and despair warred within you. “Fine,” you said, your voice trembling. “I don’t know what I saw in you both to be together this long.” The words you spoke came out like venom, even shocking you.

Tim hesitated for a moment, but Brian didn’t look back as he opened the door and stepped out. Tim followed, the door closing behind them with a finality that left you breathless.  

And then, once again, you were alone.  

  ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

The hours that followed their departure stretched endlessly, every second heavier than the last. The apartment felt like a hollow shell—an echo chamber of everything they had said and everything you hadn’t had the chance to say. Sleep evaded you; every time you closed your eyes, their voices lingered, cruel and sharp like glass shards digging into your chest.  

When the sun finally rose, its weak light spilled through the curtains, and you sat up, exhausted but restless. Their things were gone now, but the spaces they had filled—the chair Tim always slouched in, the spot on the kitchen counter Brian leaned against when he teased you—those remained, taunting you.  

By noon, you had reached your breaking point. You had to confront them—not to bring them back, but to purge the poison they’d left in your veins. You grabbed your phone and sent a message to Tim.  

We need to talk. Face-to-face. Please.

You didn’t expect him to reply. You didn’t expect him to come, either. But an hour later, there was a knock at the door.  

When you opened it, Tim stood there, his expression guarded. He had changed out of his wrinkled clothes from the night before but still looked just as tired.  

“Where’s Brian?” you asked flatly.  

“Not here,” he said, stepping inside. “He didn’t want to come.”  

“Of course he didn’t,” you muttered under your breath.  

Tim frowned, crossing his arms. “You wanted to talk. So talk.”  

The sight of him standing there, so detached, made your blood boil. “You promised me,” you said, your voice trembling. “You both did. You promised we’d stick together, no matter how hard things got.”  

Tim’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well, promises don’t mean much when everything’s falling apart.”  

“You think I don’t know that?” you snapped. “I gave you everything I had. Everything! Look where that got me.”  

He flinched, just barely, but it was enough to spur you on. “Every time I look at you,” you said, your voice breaking, “all I see are the faces of the people who once told me they loved me, that I was the only bright spark in their dark world. And now you’re just like them—another person who tore me apart and left me here to bleed.”  

“Stop,” Tim said quietly, but you weren’t done.  

“You changed me, Tim. You and Brian both. You broke me down until there was nothing left. And the worst part? Neither of you will ever find someone who loves a soul as filthy as yours.”  

“That’s enough!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the room like a whip.  

The silence that followed was deafening. Tim looked away, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.  

You let out a shaky breath, your anger giving way to exhaustion. “Was any of it real? Did it ever really mean something to either of you?” you whispered, looking at Tim with some form of hope in your eyes.  

Tim’s head snapped back toward you, his expression shifting. “Of course it meant something!” he said, his voice cracking. “You think I didn’t care? You think none of it mattered to me?”  

“Did it?” you asked, your voice flat. “Because if it did, why did you let it end like this? Why didn’t you fight for us?”  

He stared at you, his mouth opening as if to say something, but no words came out.  

Finally, he shook his head and turned toward the door. “I can’t do this,” he muttered.  

“Of course you can’t,” you said bitterly. “Running away is the only thing you’ve ever been good at.”  

He hesitated, his hand on the doorknob, but didn’t look back. And then, just like that, he was gone.  

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

The next few days passed in a blur. You didn’t hear from either of them, and part of you was grateful for the silence. But the pain lingered, festering like an open wound. You replayed the argument with Tim over and over in your mind, dissecting every word, every glance, every moment where things could have gone differently.  

You weren’t sure if you wanted to fix things anymore. Maybe there was nothing left to fix.  

But one thing was certain—you wouldn’t let them tear you apart again.

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑠! 🖤

𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 @𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑦-𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑠

𝐺𝐼𝐹 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 @𝑘𝑟𝑣𝑝𝑖𝑘𝑎

Can I make a platonic request of Charlie with a human reader that was sent to hell without dying motivating and encouraging her to keep following her dreams no matter what anyone says or what happens when she is down?

ℌ𝔢𝔩𝔩’𝔰 ℌ𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫

A/N: You absolutely can!! I love my girl Charlie—she reminds me of Emma from TPN! Anyways, I hope you don’t mind me putting in a dream that the reader has, I wasn’t sure what to do since you hadn’t specified (but it’s trouble, don’t worry!)

Word Count: 1.1k

TW: None really, unless you count being in Hell?

Reader is gender neutral!

The world around you was a kaleidoscope of crimson and shadow, an eerie dance of flame and darkness. You never imagined you’d end up here—Hell—without so much as dying. There was no dramatic accident, no tragic ending to your life. One moment, you were walking home, and the next, the ground beneath you gave way to this bizarre, otherworldly landscape. Confusion quickly gave way to fear, and fear to despair. You felt lost, utterly and completely. Until she showed up.

♡⋅˚₊‧ ୨☀️୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♡

Charlie Morningstar was unlike anyone you had ever met, in any realm of existence. Her cheerful demeanor stood in stark contrast to the grim surroundings, as if she refused to let Hell itself dim her light. Her golden hair practically glowed, and her warm smile carried a sense of hope that felt out of place—yet so welcome—in this desolate place. She found you huddled near a crumbling wall, knees pulled to your chest, staring into the void. Instead of walking past like so many others, she sat beside you, her presence both comforting and curious.

“Hi there,” she said, her voice as soothing as a lullaby. “Rough day?”

You laughed bitterly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “You could say that. I’m not even supposed to be here.”

Charlie tilted her head, a flicker of concern crossing her features. “Not supposed to be in Hell? That’s... unusual.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered. “One second, I’m walking home from work. The next, I’m here. I don’t even know why.”

“Well,” she said, her smile returning, “we’ll figure it out. But for now, how about we get you somewhere safe?”

You hesitated. You didn’t know her, didn’t know if you could trust her. But something about her felt genuine, like she truly cared. Reluctantly, you nodded, and she helped you to your feet. From that moment on, your life—or whatever this existence was—began to change.

Charlie brought you to the Hazbin Hotel, her grand but somewhat shabby project to rehabilitate sinners and give them a chance at redemption. You weren’t a sinner, but you still felt out of place. The hotel was a strange haven in this chaotic realm, filled with all manner of colorful and bizarre characters. At first, you kept to yourself, unsure of your place in this odd community. But Charlie wouldn’t let you retreat into your shell.

She had a way of drawing you out, her enthusiasm infectious. She’d invite you to join her in decorating the lobby, brainstorming ideas for the hotel, or simply talking over cups of tea. She wanted to know everything about you—your dreams, your passions, your fears. It was disarming, how much she cared.

♡⋅˚₊‧ ୨☀️୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♡

One evening, as the two of you sat on the hotel’s rooftop, looking out over the sprawling chaos of Hell, you finally opened up. “I used to have dreams,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Big ones. I wanted to be an artist, to create something that would inspire people. But... it felt like the world was against me. No one believed in me, and eventually, I stopped believing in myself.”

Charlie’s expression softened, her crimson eyes filled with understanding. “That sounds really hard. But you know what? Dreams don’t die just because others can’t see them. They’re still inside you, waiting for you to pick them back up.”

You looked at her, skeptical. “Easy for you to say. You’re a princess. You’ve probably never had people tell you you’re not good enough.”

She laughed, a soft, self-deprecating sound. “Oh, you’d be surprised. My whole life, people have doubted me. They think my dream of rehabilitating sinners is ridiculous, that it’ll never work. But I keep going because I believe it’s worth it. And I believe you’re worth it too.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you. For so long, you’d let the voices of doubt drown out your own. But here was Charlie, in the literal depths of Hell, refusing to give up on her vision. If she could keep fighting for her dreams, maybe you could too.

From that night on, Charlie became your biggest cheerleader. She encouraged you to pick up a pencil again, to let your creativity flow. At first, it was just doodles, small sketches on scraps of paper. But as the days turned into weeks, you began to find your rhythm again. The hotel’s walls soon became adorned with your art, transforming the space into a gallery of hope and beauty. The other residents took notice, and for the first time in a long time, you felt seen.

Whenever doubt crept back in, Charlie was there to chase it away. “Your art is incredible,” she’d say, her enthusiasm unwavering. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. And don’t stop just because it’s hard. The best things in life usually are.”

Her belief in you became a lifeline, pulling you out of the darkness you’d been drowning in. Slowly but surely, you began to believe in yourself again. And in turn, you found ways to support Charlie in her mission. You designed posters and banners for the hotel, turning it into a place that truly felt welcoming. Together, you created something that stood as a beacon of hope in a realm defined by despair.

♡⋅˚₊‧ ୨☀️୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♡

One day, as you worked on a mural in the lobby, Charlie approached you, her usual cheerful energy tempered by something more serious. “You know,” she began, “you’re not just helping me with the hotel. You’re inspiring everyone here. Your art, your determination—it’s contagious. You’re making a difference.”

Her words brought tears to your eyes. For so long, you’d felt like your dreams didn’t matter, like you didn’t matter. But here, in the unlikeliest of places, you’d found purpose and belonging. And it was all thanks to Charlie.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice trembling. “For everything. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

She smiled, her eyes shining with warmth. “You’d be right where you are now. Because the strength you needed was always inside you. I just helped you see it.”

In that moment, you realized just how much Charlie had given you. Not just a place to stay, but a reason to keep going. A reminder that even in the darkest of places, there’s still light to be found. And as you looked at her, you made a silent vow to never let that light go out—not in her, and not in yourself.

Hell might have been the last place you expected to find yourself, but it turned out to be the first place where you truly found yourself. And with Charlie by your side, you knew you could face anything. Together, you were unstoppable—two dreamers refusing to let the world, or Hell itself, stand in their way.

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢! 🍎

𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 @𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑦-𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑠

I'M BEGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES.

PLEASE. X-VIRUS/CODY HEADCANNONS OR SMUT. HE DOESN'T GET ENOUGH LOVE. PLEASEE.

-Just some blob on the internet (Ace😋✨)

𝑋-𝑉𝑖𝑟𝑢𝑠 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

A/N: I freaking LOVE Cody, and I wholeheartedly agree that he does not get enough love as the others do—which is odd considering his character design looks similar to Toby’s. Also I wasn’t sure if you meant headcanons for just him or x reader so I incorporated both, I hope that’s okay! Thank you for your request <3

Word Count: 5.1k

TW: NSFW (MDNI) (Also if you’re squeamish with any explicit content, there will be a divider that tells you when to stop reading!)

Reader is Gender-Neutral.

Remember to stay hydrated and eat plenty of food, you are loved!! ❤️

🧪 My Cody stands at 6’1” (185 cm). His height, combined with his lean but muscular frame, gives him an imposing presence.  

🧪 He’s wiry and athletic. His strength is deceptive; while he isn’t bulky, his muscles are well-defined from years of manual labor and survival.  

🧪 Dark brown and messy, often looking like he’s just rolled out of bed. He doesn’t pay much attention to grooming unless it interferes with his work.  

🧪 His eyes are a piercing gray with dark circles underneath, a result of sleepless nights and his obsessive tendencies.  

🧪 Cody’s body is littered with scars from his experiments, fights, and a hard life. The most notable is a jagged scar running along his right forearm from an incident in his youth.  

🧪 He favors dark, practical clothing—hoodies, cargo pants, and boots. His outfits are often splattered with paint, dirt, or the remnants of his experiments.  

🧪 Cody is 24 years old.  

🧪 He’s of mixed European descent, with his pale skin hinting at northern European roots.  

🧪 Cody identifies as pansexual. He’s attracted to individuals based on their personality, intellect, and connection rather than their gender. To him, chemistry and shared intensity are what matter most.  

🧪 While Cody isn’t one for overt romance, he has a deeply possessive and protective streak. If he forms a connection, it’s intense and consuming, making his partner the center of his focus.  

🧪 Born into a chaotic household, Cody experienced neglect and abuse at the hands of his mother. His father was incarcerated, and his adoptive father later met his end by Cody's own hand.  

🧪 While his “hobbies” lean toward the macabre, Cody enjoys reading scientific journals, tinkering with mechanical devices, and sketching out ideas for new experiments.  

🧪 Cody’s knowledge comes from self-teaching and observing his adoptive father’s work. He has a deep understanding of biology, virology, and anatomy despite having no formal qualifications.   

🧪 Cody forms a close bond with Ticci Toby, seeing him as a kindred spirit. They share a dark sense of humor and a mutual understanding of what it means to be an outcast.  

🧪 Masky and Hoodie tolerate Cody, though they view him as unpredictable.  

🧪 Slenderman values Cody’s intelligence and scientific expertise, though he’s wary of his recklessness.  

🧪 Cody finds Jeff the Killer insufferable, viewing his chaotic, impulsive behavior as a lack of discipline.  

🧪 He avoids interactions with Laughing Jack, whose eccentric and erratic demeanor grates on Cody’s nerves.  

🧪 Cody is calculating and observant, always analyzing people and situations. However, he has a short fuse when things don’t go according to plan.  

🧪 He frequently cracks his knuckles and chews on pens when deep in thought.  

🧪 Cody operates on a twisted version of morality, believing that his experiments serve a greater purpose—even if they involve extreme cruelty.   

🧪 Cody resides in an abandoned lab deep in the woods. The space is cluttered with equipment, jars of specimens, and notebooks filled with his observations. Though sometimes he’ll stay at the Manor and help Eyeless Jack with the Infirmary.  

🧪 He has a poor diet, often forgetting to eat while engrossed in his work. When he does eat, it’s usually something quick and practical like canned soup or protein bars.  

🧪 His signature weapon is a bat with nails embedded in it. He also carries a small scalpel, which he uses with precision.

🧪 Cody has a deep, gravelly voice that’s both soothing and unsettling. He speaks slowly, choosing his words carefully.  

🧪 He always smells faintly of antiseptic and metal, a result of his experiments.  

🧪 Cody may seem cold and detached at first, but he warms up to you over time. His affection is subtle—like brushing his fingers against yours or standing just a little closer than necessary when you're out together.  

🧪 Despite his violent tendencies, Cody is surprisingly gentle when it comes to you. He’ll lower his voice and soften his expression when you’re upset, though he doesn’t always know the right words to say.  

🧪 Cody loves listening to your stories about your life. It fascinates him, especially since his own past is riddled with chaos and pain. He quietly takes mental notes about your preferences and habits.  

🧪 On rare occasions, Cody will cook for you. While his culinary skills leave much to be desired (his food is either over-seasoned or undercooked), the effort he puts into it is heartwarming.  

🧪 Whenever you’re feeling stressed or upset, Cody will quietly sit beside you and offer his presence as comfort. He isn’t great with emotional support, but he’ll stay by your side until you feel better.  

🧪 He has a bad habit of bringing you odd “gifts.” Sometimes they’re bizarre trinkets from his victims, but other times, it’s something like a wildflower he found in the woods or a shiny rock he thought you’d like.  

🧪 Cody has a strange sense of humor and loves teasing you in unexpected ways. He might sneak up behind you and whisper something creepy, only to laugh when you jump.  

🧪 He’s surprisingly protective, always keeping you within his line of sight when you're together. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’ll give them a glare that could freeze their blood.  

🧪 Despite his tendency to push others away, Cody allows you into his personal space. You’re the only one who gets to see him without his guard up, whether that means resting his head on your lap or letting you hold his hand.  

🧪 Cody has a fascination with small, intricate objects, and he loves watching you do anything that involves precision—whether it’s painting, writing, or crafting. He’s mesmerized by how focused you look.  

🧪 He struggles with physical affection but tries his best for you. He’ll awkwardly wrap his arms around you or let you cuddle him, though he gets embarrassed easily.  

🧪 Cody loves hearing your laugh. It’s a sound he doesn’t hear often in his life, and he’ll go out of his way to make jokes or do something silly just to see you smile.  

🧪 When you’re asleep, Cody often finds himself watching you. It’s not in a creepy way—he’s just amazed that someone like you would choose to stay with him despite his flaws.  

🧪 He has a habit of collecting things that remind him of you. Whether it’s a leaf that matches your favorite color or a broken charm that looks like something you’d wear, he keeps them all in a hidden box.  

🧪 Cody gets jealous easily but won’t admit it outright. Instead, he’ll become extra protective and clingy, making it obvious to everyone else that you’re his.  

🧪 He enjoys listening to you talk about your dreams and aspirations. Even if he doesn’t always believe in happy endings, he secretly hopes you’ll achieve everything you want.  

🧪 Cody tries to teach you survival skills, insisting that you need to know how to defend yourself in case he isn’t there. His lessons are thorough but filled with genuine care.  

🧪 He’s surprisingly good at sewing and mending clothes. If you tear something, he’ll fix it for you without a second thought, though he grumbles about it being “extra work.”  

🧪Cody enjoys taking you on walks through the woods. He knows all the hidden paths and secret clearings, and he loves showing you places he considers “his.”  

🧪 Whenever you’re scared or nervous, Cody will stand behind you and place a hand on your shoulder. It’s his way of silently reassuring you that he’s there to protect you.  

🧪 Cody is awkward with words, but he’ll often mutter compliments under his breath when he thinks you can’t hear. Things like “You’re really something, you know” or “Can’t believe someone like you puts up with me” escape him sometimes.

🧪 He tries to show affection in practical ways, like sharpening your knives or patching up your gear. He’s not one for grand gestures, but his quiet acts of care speak volumes.  

🧪 Cody doesn’t like to show his vulnerable side, but you’re the only person he trusts enough to let down his walls. Sometimes, he’ll open up about his childhood or nightmares, though it’s rare.  

🧪 When you’re cold, Cody will casually drape his jacket over your shoulders without saying a word. He acts like it’s no big deal, but secretly, he loves how you look in his clothes.  

🧪 If you ever get hurt, Cody is relentless in making sure you’re okay. He’ll hover over you, clean your wounds with an almost clinical precision, and insist on carrying you if you can’t walk.  

🧪  Cody loves it when you play with his hair. He won’t ask for it, but if you start running your fingers through his hair or gently tugging at it, he’ll practically melt under your touch.  

🧪 He has a soft spot for hearing you sing, even if you’re just humming absentmindedly. The sound soothes him, and he’ll often close his eyes and listen, letting it calm his chaotic mind.  

🧪 Cody’s past has made him wary of trusting others, but he’s fiercely loyal to you. If anyone tries to hurt you or betray your trust, he won’t hesitate to deal with them personally.  

🧪 He’s not much of an artist, but Cody occasionally sketches small things in his notebooks—doodles of you, your favorite flower, or anything else that reminds him of you.  

🧪 Cody doesn’t understand traditional romance, but he tries his best to make you feel special. He might not give you roses, but he’ll leave little surprises like a carefully wrapped snack or a handmade bracelet.  

🧪 If you’re ever upset, Cody will do whatever it takes to make you feel better. He’s not great at emotional comfort, but he’ll stay by your side, offer silent support, and maybe even crack a bad joke to lighten the mood.  

🧪 Cody has a habit of stealing little things from you—like a hair tie or a keychain—and keeping them with him. It’s his way of feeling close to you, even when you’re apart.  

🧪 He’s surprisingly good at fixing broken things, whether it’s a piece of jewelry or a faulty flashlight. Cody will sit down with it for hours, determined to make it work again for you.  

🧪 Cody loves the way your hand fits in his. He doesn’t hold hands often, but when he does, he’ll gently squeeze yours as if reassuring himself that you’re really there.  

🧪 He has an uncanny ability to notice when you’re uncomfortable or scared. Cody will immediately step in, either removing you from the situation or making sure whoever caused it regrets their actions.  

🧪 Cody doesn’t like crowds, but he’ll endure them if it means being with you. He’ll stay close, his hand brushing against yours, ready to pull you away if things get too overwhelming.  

🧪 Despite his violent tendencies, Cody is surprisingly gentle with animals. You once caught him feeding a stray cat, and he got flustered when you teased him about it.  

🧪 He loves watching you sleep, not in a creepy way, but because it’s one of the few times he feels at peace. Seeing you so relaxed and vulnerable reminds him of what he’s fighting for.  

🧪 Cody gets easily embarrassed when you compliment him. He’ll scoff or roll his eyes, but the faint blush on his cheeks gives him away every time.  

🧪 He’s incredibly observant and remembers the smallest details about you—your favorite food, the way you like your tea, or how you always hum a specific tune when you’re happy.  

🧪 Cody has a habit of calling you by teasing nicknames, though they’re never mean-spirited. He enjoys the playful banter and the way it makes you roll your eyes at him.  

🧪 He doesn’t celebrate holidays, but he’ll go out of his way to make them special for you. Whether it’s cooking a special meal or finding a small gift, he’ll do his best to make you smile.  

🧪 Cody has a low, raspy laugh that’s rare but incredibly genuine. Hearing you tell a joke or do something silly is one of the few things that can coax it out of him.  

🧪 He’s surprisingly good at building small things, like birdhouses or little wooden trinkets. He once made you a tiny figurine of your favorite animal, though he played it off like it was nothing.  

🧪 Cody is always on high alert when you’re together in dangerous areas. He’ll walk slightly ahead of you, his bat at the ready, making sure no harm comes your way.  

🧪 He doesn’t like to show weakness, but when he’s injured, he trusts you to patch him up. Your gentle care is one of the few things that can make him let his guard down.  

🧪 Cody loves quiet moments with you, like sitting by a campfire or stargazing. He doesn’t need words to feel connected to you—just your presence is enough.  

🧪 He’s fiercely protective of you, to the point where he’ll challenge anyone who looks at you the wrong way. Cody doesn’t care about making enemies as long as you’re safe.  

🧪 Cody has a habit of touching his scars when he’s deep in thought. If you ask him about them, he’ll open up, but only if he feels safe with you.  

🧪 He treasures every moment he spends with you, even if it’s just sitting in silence. Cody doesn’t say it often, but he can’t imagine his life without you in it.

🧪 Cody is well-endowed, with a length around 7.5 inches when erect and a girth that’s above average, making him both noticeable and a bit intimidating.  

🧪 He’s uncut, with a smooth, clean appearance that reflects his tendency for practicality and hygiene despite his chaotic lifestyle. His skin tone there matches his overall complexion but darkens slightly at the tip when aroused.  

🧪 Cody is highly sensitive, particularly around the underside and the base. While he’s confident and composed, certain touches can elicit sharp reactions, revealing a rare vulnerability.  

🧪 He has prominent veins that stand out when he’s fully aroused, adding to his rugged and primal appearance.  

🧪 Cody keeps himself neatly trimmed, though not obsessively so. He prefers minimal maintenance to avoid distractions from his experiments.

🧪 Cody is experienced but not overly promiscuous. His confidence comes from a natural understanding of people and anatomy rather than a long list of partners. 

🧪 Cody is extremely possessive and demanding during intimate moments. He relishes leaving visible marks—bites, hickeys, and scratches—as a way of claiming you (Or if you do it to him, he sees it as a way to be claimed in return). Seeing those marks later fills him with a deep, primal satisfaction.

🧪 His kisses are fierce and consuming, as if he’s trying to devour every part of you. He loves holding your face firmly in his hands, making sure you can’t look away from him while he’s kissing you.  

🧪 Cody has a love-hate relationship with control in the bedroom. While he often dominates, he secretly enjoys the rare moments when you take charge and make him lose himself under your touch.  

🧪 His favorite place to touch you is your neck. Whether it’s light brushes with his fingertips, possessive grips, or gentle nips with his teeth, he’s obsessed with how sensitive you are there.  

🧪 Cody has a surprisingly sharp sense of what makes you tick. He pays attention to every gasp, shiver, or moan, learning exactly how to push you over the edge.  

🧪 Despite his tough exterior, Cody is incredibly attentive to your needs in bed. He’s hyper-focused on your reactions, always ensuring you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is.  

🧪 He’s not big on verbal communication during intimacy due to his reserved nature, but if he is starts becoming feral he’ll start to let out low, raspy groans and primal grunts that are impossibly arousing–sometimes even cursing and praising you. Can you blame him though? The sound of your name on his lips when he’s lost in the moment is intoxicating.  

🧪 Cody is rough but never careless. He loves the thrill of pinning you down or gripping your hips tightly, but he’s always aware of your limits and will stop immediately if you ask him to.

🧪 His hands are calloused from years of hard work and violence, and he loves running them over your skin. The contrast between his rough palms and your softness drives him wild.  

🧪 Cody is not shy about taking his time with you. He enjoys teasing, making you squirm and beg before finally giving you what you want. The power play excites him.  

🧪 His favorite positions are ones where he can see your face—he loves watching your expressions as he pushes you closer to the edge. The intimacy of those moments makes his heart race.  

🧪 Cody enjoys experimenting with power dynamics. Whether it’s binding your wrists with something improvised or letting you take the lead for a change, he’s always up for pushing boundaries safely.  

🧪 He loves the idea of you being completely undone for him and only him. Knowing that he can reduce you to a breathless, trembling mess gives him a rush of pride and possessiveness.   

🧪 He has a habit of whispering dirty things in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. Sometimes, his words are sweet and adoring; other times, they’re raw and primal, leaving you flushed.  

🧪 Cody gets turned on by the idea of you being just as rough with him as he is with you. Scratches down his back bite marks or firm grips on his shoulders excite him and make him feel like you’re just as possessive of him as he is of you.

🧪 Cody has a voyeuristic streak. While he wouldn’t force anything on you, the idea of someone catching a glimpse of how good he makes you feel excites him in a twisted way.  

🧪 He loves it when you wear his clothes—especially his oversized shirts or jackets. The sight of you in his things is enough to drive him crazy, and it usually ends with him pulling them off you.  

🧪 Cody can be unexpectedly tender during sex. On nights when he’s feeling particularly vulnerable, he’ll take his time with you, savoring every moment and treating you with the utmost care.  

🧪 As I mentioned earlier, he’s obsessed with the way you say his name when you’re lost in pleasure. Hearing you moan or whisper it ignites something primal in him, and he’ll do everything he can to hear it again.

🧪 Cody has a habit of holding your hips tightly, sometimes leaving faint bruises. He loves the feeling of your body against his and the way you move under his touch.  

🧪 He enjoys taking you by surprise. Whether it’s sneaking up behind you to kiss your neck or pulling you into his lap when you least expect it, he thrives on your startled reactions.

🧪 He loves experimenting with temperature play—running ice along your skin or using warm oil to heighten your sensitivity. Watching you squirm under the sensations is exhilarating for him.  

🧪 Cody has a habit of tracing your scars or imperfections with his fingers, whispering how beautiful you are. He sees every mark as a testament to your strength and finds them incredibly alluring. 

🧪 Cody loves intimacy outdoors, especially in secluded spots like the woods. There’s something thrilling about being exposed to nature while still keeping the act private.  

🧪 He has a soft spot for moments when you’re vulnerable with him. Whether it’s during quiet pillow talk or when you’re completely bare in his arms, he treasures your trust deeply.  

🧪 Cody has a primal need to protect you, and that intensity carries over into the bedroom. He’s both passionate and possessive, as if reminding you that you’re his and only his.

🧪 Cody has a habit of pulling your hair—not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to make your head tilt back so he can kiss your neck. The sound of your breath hitching drives him crazy.  

🧪 He’s obsessed with watching you lose control. Whether it’s your trembling legs, flushed skin, or the way you cling to him, he thrives on seeing the effect he has on you.  

🧪 Cody enjoys trying new things in bed, especially if it’s something you suggest. He’s adventurous and loves exploring new ways to connect with you intimately.  

🧪 His favorite moments are when you’re completely at his mercy, trusting him to guide you. The vulnerability you show him in those moments makes him feel deeply connected to you.  

🧪 Cody has a thing for whispered confessions during intimacy. Hearing you tell him how much you want or love him in breathy tones only makes him more intense and focused.  

🧪 He has a fondness for slow, drawn-out sessions where he takes his time exploring every part of you. On nights like this, he’s uncharacteristically tender, almost reverent.  

🧪 Cody gets turned on by the smallest things—like the way you bite your lip or tilt your head when you’re flustered. Sometimes, a single glance is enough to ignite his desire.  

🧪 He loves kissing every inch of your body, especially the parts you’re insecure about. He’ll take his time showing you just how much he adores every detail about you.  

🧪 Cody is possessive about his space, but he loves it when you leave little traces of yourself in his environment—your scent on his sheets or your clothes in his room. It reminds him that you’re his. 

🧪 He enjoys the element of surprise in the bedroom, whether it’s catching you off guard with a sudden kiss or pulling you into his arms at an unexpected moment.  

🧪 Cody loves hearing you beg for him. Whether it’s for more kisses, rougher touches, or just his attention, the sound of your desperate voice is intoxicating to him.  

🧪 He has a habit of gripping your thighs during intimacy, leaving faint bruises as a reminder of how tightly he held you. He loves the way your body fits perfectly against his. 

🧪 Cody can be a bit of a tease, often stopping just before you reach your peak, making you plead with him to continue. The power he feels in those moments is exhilarating.  

🧪 He’s fascinated by the way you respond to him. Every gasp, moan, or arch of your back feels like a reward, and he’ll do whatever it takes to elicit more of those reactions.  

🧪 Cody loves it when you wear something that’s just for him—whether it’s lingerie or one of his shirts. The idea that you dressed up specifically to entice him sends his desire into overdrive.  

🧪 He has a thing for eye contact during intimacy. The intensity of his gaze as he watches you unravel under his touch is almost overwhelming, but it’s also deeply intimate.  

🧪 Cody loves the feeling of your nails digging into his back. The sting of your scratches serves as a reminder of just how much you want him, and he wears the marks proudly.  

🧪 He’s surprisingly playful in bed at times, peppering you with teasing kisses or making you laugh before things get serious. He loves the mix of passion and lightheartedness.

🧪 Cody values secrecy in all aspects of his life, including intimacy. He prefers secluded locations or settings where he can completely lose himself without fear of interruption. 

🧪 Cody is drawn to the visual aspect of intimacy—messy hair, flushed cheeks, and lingering touches ignite something deep within him.  

🧪 Cody hides a softer side, which only surfaces during particularly tender moments. He struggles to show this vulnerability but cherishes it when he does.  

🧪 He’s particularly sensitive to touch and smell. The feel of someone’s hands on his scars or their scent lingering on his clothes can leave him distracted for hours.  

🧪 Cody approaches intimacy the same way he approaches his experiments—with focus and intensity. He thrives on exploring every sensation, pushing himself to the limits.  

🧪 Cody’s mind often wanders to darker scenarios. While he keeps most of these thoughts to himself, they fuel his intensity during private moments.  

🧪 Cody exudes confidence during intimate moments, using his knowledge of anatomy and sensitivity to take full control of the situation.  

🧪 He rarely uses words to express affection but instead shows it through physical acts, like holding someone close or lingering touches.  

🧪 Cody’s past influences his views on intimacy. While he craves connection, he often struggles with guilt and insecurity.  

🧪 Cody prefers slow, deliberate actions that build up intensity over time. He enjoys savoring every moment.  

🧪He enjoys being physically close, finding comfort in the warmth and presence of another person.  

🧪 When someone places their trust in him, especially in vulnerable situations, Cody feels an overwhelming sense of responsibility and protectiveness.  

🧪 Despite his dominant tendencies, Cody exercises significant restraint, ensuring that his actions never cross into disrespect or harm. 

🧪 His body tends to run a little colder than average, which is reflected in his skin’s temperature. However, during moments of passion, his arousal heats him up noticeably.  

🧪 Cody’s stamina is impressive, thanks to his athletic build and endurance. He can go for multiple rounds, and his recovery time is remarkably quick.  

🧪Clean and slightly metallic, reflecting his hygienic practices and the environment he works in. There’s always a faint hint of antiseptic, though it’s never overpowering.  

🧪 He’s a heavy pre-cum producer, and it starts leaking early on, a sign of his intense arousal.  

🧪 Cody prides himself on his self-control. He can hold back for long periods to draw out pleasure, but when he loses himself, his release is powerful and overwhelming.  

🧪 He rarely makes loud noises but instead lets out deep, guttural groans. His hips buck instinctively when he’s overstimulated, and his hands tend to grip whatever’s nearest.  

🧪 Cody’s climaxes are intense and leave him momentarily breathless. His body tenses up completely before releasing in a wave of satisfaction.  

🧪 He’s not someone who indulges often, preferring quality over quantity. When he does, it’s an all-consuming experience for both him and his partner.  

🧪 His idea of aftercare is quiet but deeply caring. He’ll clean you up with a damp cloth, pull you into his arms, and stroke your hair while you catch your breath. He doesn’t say much, but his actions speak volumes. 

🧪 Despite his rough exterior, Cody is surprisingly mindful after intimate moments. After finishing, Cody is quieter than usual, his intense energy replaced with a rare softness. His idea of aftercare is quiet but deeply caring. He’s attentive, he’ll clean you up with a damp cloth and get you something to drink or eat to restore energy—or if you’re up to it he’ll even take a steamy bath or shower with you to clean further. Afterwards, Cody will climb back into bed and often pull his partner close to share the lingering intimacy, while his hands brush hair out of his partner’s face and lazily trace patterns on your skin. He doesn’t say much, but his actions speak volumes. 

🧪 These quiet moments of intimacy are his favorite, reminding him that, despite everything, he’s found someone who truly accepts him.

🧪 Kinks (Although these were already mentioned, put I wanted to create list for everyone to see ;)):

Dominance and Control: Cody thrives on power dynamics. He enjoys being in control, whether it’s through physical dominance or psychological teasing. His dominance isn’t loud or forceful but quiet and commanding.  

Intellectual Stimulation: Cody is turned on by a sharp mind. A partner who can challenge him intellectually or match his wit earns his full attention.  

Sensory Play: He loves exploring the senses. Blindfolds, temperature changes, and heightened tactile sensations are tools he enjoys using to create unique and unforgettable experiences.  

Biting: Cody is a biter, both giving and receiving. He loves the raw, primal connection that comes with leaving or receiving marks.  

Rough Play: He’s into roughness, such as gripping, hair pulling, and controlled aggression. However, he’s always careful not to cross any boundaries.  

Possessiveness: Cody enjoys the idea of “claiming” his partner, whether through leaving marks, whispered words, or lingering touches that remind them they belong to him.  

Voyeurism: Cody has a voyeuristic streak. He’s fascinated by watching reactions—how a partner’s body moves, their facial expressions, and the subtle changes in their breathing.

Praise and Degradation: He’s skilled at blending praise with degradation, creating a dynamic where his partner feels both wanted and vulnerable under his control.  

Bondage: Cody is intrigued by restraint and confinement, using ropes, cuffs, or makeshift tools to explore power dynamics and vulnerability.  

Experimental Curiosity: True to his scientific nature, Cody enjoys experimenting in intimate scenarios. He’s open to trying new things as long as they align with mutual consent.  

Aftercare: Despite his intensity, Cody is attentive and caring after intimacy. He understands the importance of grounding his partner and making them feel safe and appreciated.  

Exhibitionism in Controlled Environments: While not reckless, Cody enjoys the idea of being seen in private, controlled settings where the possibility adds an edge of excitement.  

Dirty Talk: Cody has a low, gravelly voice that becomes even more intoxicating when he uses it for dirty talk. He’s skilled at weaving both commanding and teasing tones to leave his partner breathless.  

Voyeuristic Teasing: Cody enjoys making his partner feel observed and desired, even outside of intimacy. A subtle, lingering gaze or a whispered comment can set the tone for what’s to come. 

Slow-Build Intensity: Cody loves drawing things out, building tension slowly until the intensity is almost unbearable. He thrives on the anticipation as much as the act itself.

Partners with a Strong Personality: Cody is drawn to partners who have a strong sense of self and aren’t afraid to challenge him. He finds the contrast between their strength and their vulnerability during intimacy thrilling.

Scar and Injury Exploration: Cody’s scars are part of his identity, and he’s intrigued by the marks on others. He finds a strange comfort in tracing or kissing scars, viewing them as stories written on the body.

Non-Verbal Cues: Cody has a talent for reading body language and enjoys communicating without words during intimate moments, letting movements and touches speak volumes.  

Edge Play: While careful to maintain trust and safety, Cody enjoys exploring physical and emotional edges, walking the fine line between control and surrender.

Intense Eye Contact: Cody uses prolonged, piercing eye contact to establish dominance and deepen the connection during intimacy. 

Discretion and Secrecy: Cody finds thrill in keeping intimate moments hidden, making shared secrets feel even more private and intense.  

Roleplay: Occasionally, Cody enjoys scenarios that play into power imbalances or forbidden dynamics, adding an element of fantasy to the encounter.

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢! 💚

𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 @𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑖 𝑎𝑛𝑑 @𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠

𝐼𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟

*Simon following up behind y/n* Y/n: So...me and Simon are dating *Simon nodding* Price: ha! We already knew Soap: like why were you even hiding it from us this long Y/n and Simon: *confused* Y/n:We only started dating today Price: Soap: Then what the fuck was happening for the last three years ?! Simon: :)

We Hit Ten Followers!!

Wow, I cannot believe 10 amazing people have decided to follow my little corner of Tumblr! Thank you all for your kindness, your likes, and for making this space feel so warm and inspiring. You’re the best, and I’m so grateful for each of you! Your support means the world to me, and I’m excited to keep sharing and connecting with all of you.

Thank you for being here—it truly makes my day!

With love,

— Merxcy ❤️

P.S. Remember to keep eating and hydrating, you are loved! ❤️

imagine the task force 141 falsely accusing you of being a traitor to the team. knowing your biggest fear, they use it against you. water. water, where your feet can't touch the ground. water you can't see through. at first it started with waterboarding. then slowly but surely they threatened to drop you into the pool. into the dark, deep pool. even john, who was like a father to you before, didn't help you. no. not at all. actually, he was the one who stepped into the water fully clothed, dragging your crying and squirming form with him into the bloodcurling liquid. your tears blended in with it while you we're screaming, practically begging that you were the wrong one. that you'd never do something like that. but they just stood at the edge of the pool, watching their captain almost drowning your terrified self. how would they react, when they get the information that you really weren't the one...?