the fact that Monster hadn't tapped into Nina's potential will forever haunt me. there's so much opportunity for her and wolfgang to just.... crush it man. @theartifxce has me thinking about it, but I'm glad I can include this as part of their characters in threads. they absolutely become more violent to protect the people are them, but they also! runaway! from their problems! they compartmentalize extremely well, but to their detriment. brings a tear to my eye.
It's so weird watching fullmetal alchemist in contrast to naruto. Because both are set in fucked up worlds where everyone has committed war crimes, has had war crimes committed upon them, or is a war crime. But I trust that fma fundamentally understands how fucked up everything is, including the sinister qualities of the institutions that allowed this to happen. Naruto understands its fucked up on a surface level, but also glorifies the institution and never changes.
All films (drabbles & oneshots) produced by kamiflix from 12/10/25 to now can be found here! If you'd like to be permanently tagged for a certain character (or multiple characters, everything, etc) please let me know here. [MDNI]
˗ˏˋ MULTI CHARACTER FILMS
︎▶︎ Needy (headcanons / oneshot)
What happens when you come home late and they’re needy.
︎▶︎ Seven — Explixit Vers. (headcanons / oneshot)
JJK men fuckin' you right on Valentine’s day night.
You’re the neighborhood babysitter who’s caught the attention of the neighborhood's hottest dilfs. When Toji can’t afford to pay you, Jin steps in to save the day with an offer that pulls all three of you together for a night.
︎▶︎ Fire In My Heart (ft. nanami & higuruma) (oneshot — 19.8k wc)
What happens when the man you fell for during a vacation trip abroad turns out to be your arranged fiancé’s best friend? A mess of tugged heart strings, horribly convoluted emotions, and a whole lotta’ fornication—of which none of you knew how to manage.
In which you sign up for this specialized annual program called Sex With a Monster (S.W.A.M. for short). Only a select few get chosen to participate in varying breeding tests & experiments with—you guessed it—monsters! And after years of applying, you finally get accepted into the program. Only to find that it’s not exactly what you were expecting...
Your new boyfriend realizes you're quite the strange woman.
▶︎ WGFT (ft. gojo & sukuna) (short)
SukuGo but you’re getting fucked in between them while they argue.
˗ˏˋ GOJO SATORU’S FILMS
▶︎ Nasty (short)
Going over “simple physics” with your annoying fratboy tutee.
▶︎ P*ssy is the meanest (short)
Finding out your fratboy fwb is into being slapped and dominated.
▶︎ AITA for fucking both of the Gojo twins? (oneshot — 11.4k wc)
In which you get fed up with Sato (fratjo) for playing around with you and unintentionally get involved with his identical twin brother Toru (nerdjo), not knowing they’re simply two sides of the same coin.
▶︎ WIBTA for fucking the Gojo twins again? (oneshot — 10.8k wc)
After losing your precious attention to his dorkier twin brother Toru (nerdjo), Sato (fratjo) decides to take matters into his own hands by corrupting his brother into being more like him. Unfortunately for him, Toru’s too strong willed to fall for his tricks and Sato ends up being the one with quite the personality switch by the end of the night. (pt. 2 of the fic above this)
▶︎ Make Me Tweak (short)
Moaning the wrong name during sex with your husband.
▶︎ Want You (short)
Nerdjo getting turned on by bimbo!reader's harmless teasing in the middle of putting together a puzzle.
˗ˏˋ GETO SUGURU’S FILMS
▶︎ Luv Punnani (short)
Your boyfriend gives you a “pussy inspection”
▶︎ Talk Dirty (short)
Something tells you your pervy friend with benefits might just have a voice kink…
▶︎ Jersey Luv (short)
Thigh riding with your boyfriend.
˗ˏˋ SUKUNA RYOMEN’S FILMS
▶︎︎ Morning Dew (short)
Domestic morning sex in the kitchen with your grumpy husband.
▶︎︎ First Time? (oneshot — 10.5k wc)
When you get paired with your campus frat’s resident asshole, Sukuna, for a project, the last thing you expect to learn about him is that he’s a damn virgin! Nor did you expect to be the one to change that.
▶︎︎ Husband!Sukuna who… (short) (headcanon)
▶︎︎ The Summoning (oneshot — 9.1k wc)
In which you finally achieve your dream of meeting a ghost and fulfill your fantasy of fucking a monster as you meet Sukuna Ryomen—who just so happens to be the perfect mix of both!
▶︎︎ Make You C*m (short) (true form!sukuna)
Getting cumdrunk on the king of curses and slapping him for more.
▶︎︎ PTDIMS (short)
Moaning the wrong name during sex (on purpose) with your husband.
˗ˏˋ TOJI FUSHIGURO’S FILMS
▶︎︎︎︎ A Nonsense Christmas (short)
Letting Santa give your mouth a white Christmas.
▶︎︎︎︎ Speechless (oneshot — 8.7k wc)
In which your annoyingly dense roommate catches you moaning his name in the shower and finally does something about it.
▶︎︎︎ Bouncing up and down your personal trainer!toji's cock (short) (headcanon)
▶︎︎︎ Fever (oneshot — 7.3k wc)
In which the overwhelming heat in your apartment sends you and your perverted roommate into a different kind of heat.
˗ˏˋ CHOSO KAMO’S FILMS
▶︎︎︎︎ Plug!Choso who… (headcanons)
▶︎ Wicked Games (oneshot — 9.2k wc)
In which you have the Kamo twins wrapped around your pretty finger. You tell them that you’re not theirs—not officially—and for a time, it works out. Choso (nerdcho) was your sweetheart of a project partner who was steadily falling for you and Kaiso (fratcho) was the younger twin who finds your side at every party you attend. What could possibly go wrong with two brothers who had no idea they were sharing the same girl?
▶︎ High For This (oneshot — 8.9k wc)
In which you’re best friend's with both your favorite emo fratboy and the campus plug. So when you make an offhand comment while under the influence one night that no guy has ever made you cum, he takes it upon himself to challenge that.
▶︎ Pervy!choso who… (short) (headcanon)
▶︎ 34+35 (oneshot — 11k wc)
In which it takes a total of sixty nine days of living with Choso for the two of you to realize you’re both terribly down bad for one another. He’d been crushing on you hard (pun intended) from the day you moved in with him, and while living with you is easy, being around you almost all day every day like this is turning him into someone he can't recognize. So much so that you should be concerned. Except, you're not?
Heavily inspired by and written as a thanks to @sadgirlnamedmaria (omg i put the wrong blog at first i'm a dumbass and i am so sorry). I studied these men through her writing (i only played RE8 myself and saw youtubers play 7 & the latest remakes of 2 and 3) like i was that dude on River Monsters trying to figure out how to catch Nessie. You never did send me a prompt, but you seemed happy that I suggested I write for you, so I did it anyway :) Hope you like it <3
Characters: Leon, Chris, Albert, Ethan, Carlos, Luis, Krauser, Heisenberg.
Leon S. Kennedy
You get hurt. You get hurt and he jumps to your rescue, of course. He’s used to being the one-man action team, after all.
When the enemies/creatures have been dealt with, he treats your wounds with a furrowed brow and some sort of tic in his eye. God, he’s fucking tired.
You thank him, and you look so very sincere, but he’s used to that too. And then he checks himself for wounds – he’s always second priority – and when he looks back to the room he’s surprised you’re still here.
People leave. That’s what they do. He helps, he protects, he saves the world every tuesday, he gets thanked, and then people leave.
But you don’t. You stay, you ask if he needs help or a bandage, you thank him again. You ask what your – both of you – next move is. It gets him hesitating, maybe his fingertips even tremble with hope and fear. He’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, all alone, for so long that it’s weird and a little bit terrifying to see you stay.
You keep going together and he keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to have disappeared when he turns back, or for you to take an opportunity to go your own way. And still. You don’t. You stay. You fight with him and banter with him and hurt with him.
Maybe you even call him « my hero », which gets him snorting because he doesn’t feel like a hero, more like God’s least favorite pest exterminator.
And because he is God’s least favorite pest exterminator, of course you end up getting separated by a concrete corridor crumbling on itself, only a tiny hole, about the size of your face, allowing you to see and hear each other. Already the weight of the world is back on his shoulders as you try and fail to open a passage on the other side, but when your eyes lock with his he sees desperation mixed with sadness, and he knows what’s coming.
But then you say : « I don’t want to leave you alone. » with a sincerity that he really doesn’t know how to deal with. He almost forgets to breathe. His heart is in his throat and he just nods.
You work together to find a way to regroup. You talk to him the whole time through his talkie. You keep encouraging him : « We’ve got this. » « Okay, one step closer. » « Are you alright ? Please keep talking to me. » And by the time you are finally back together, he knows you’re not going to leave.
And he sure as hell isn’t going to leave you either.
Someone please make one of these terrible github sparkly hello kitty edits of Leon with « God’s least favorite pest exterminator » written in glittery pink letter please the world needs it
Chris Redfield
To be completely honest, he’s a goner from the moment you walk in.
The way you answer him like you’re not scared of him in the slightest has him reeling and wanting you around all of the time.
He’s tired of being the responsible one, the strong one, the capable one. He’s tired of being in charge when the world around him is going to hell.
But you treat him like a normal human being, and it’s a breath of fresh air after drowning for so long. He’s just Chris with you. He loves it.
When you get in trouble he’s terrified. You have him doing stupid things that he would bark at his men for. But the way you thank him and smile at him makes it all worth it. And then you bring his squad stuff like homemade cookies to thank them, like they’re the firemen who got your cat out of a tree, like life isn’t so fucking complicated, and he swears if you weren’t here he wouldn’t care about the fate of the world quite as much.
When he has to leave for a long time and he can’t see you he gets cranky. His men have noticed. One of them even once had the balls to tell him to get one of these old-timey pendants with your picture in it, so he can stare at it while he’s gone like a WWII soldier. Chris put him back in his place swiftly, but in the privacy of his mind, he considered the idea for a moment, despite how ridiculous it is.
The men have a betting pool going on about how long it’s going to take him to ask you out. He knows it. He has thought about betting against himself because he knows he won’t ever do it. You deserve a normal life with a normal man. He’s just hoarding what little normalcy you can give him while he still has access to it.
When they come back this time, a lot of them are hurt and most of them are covered in blood, dirt, and whatever biological weapon it was this time. They get into the decontaminating showers – always too cold, and the pressure is so high it feels like the water is piercing their skin – and go through the battery of usual exams to make sure they’re clean. By the time they’re done it’s late into the night, and while some of them still insist on going home, most of them will spend the night in the rooms reserved for them at the facility.
Chris almost always sleeps there a few nights when they come back. He needs the time to adjust back. The bed is clean and the room is safe, and that’s all he needs to know.
But this time there is something on the bed, next to the pillow. It’s a teddy bear. There’s also a piece of paper with your handwriting. « Got him at the fair, he reminded me of you, so I got him for you :) Please be safe <3 »
The bear is a cheap thing, but it’s got a plushie cigarette sewn on its mouth and a serious look. It’s stupid, but it’s cute. And maybe it’s because he’s tired, but the dam breaks. He picks his jacket back up, takes the bear with him, and leaves the facility, headed to your place in the middle of the night.
He’s not going to ask you out, but he’s going to kiss you senseless, if you’ll have him.
Albert Wesker
You’re a tool. But a useful one.
And if he’s being honest with himself, a pretty one.
Probably his favorite piece on the board.
He knows positive reinforcements ensure loyalty, so he compliments you, makes sure to take notice of everything you do and that you are aware he notices. It starts out forced but it does get... easier and easier.
You respond positively each time, good, it’s working.
He starts getting closer. Drawn to you. Physically. Has trouble keeping himself from touching you. Your hair, your face, your waist.
He tells himself that developping a romantic (on your part) relationship would ensure your loyalty even more – people are stupid when it comes to love. So he does touch, more and more, gives sarcastic quips that you respond to. He loves when it comes to you easily, matching his intellect. He loves when you struggle to find words, his pretty little plaything trying oh so hard to win his favor.
He starts kissing your hands, playing the gentleman in all the right moments, just to get you hooked.
He ignores the way he wants to bite at your neck, mark you, tells himself it’s just lust provoked by all this playing around. He’ll get you there anyway.
When you try to leave – or he thinks you try to leave – it all changes. He goes nuts with anger. He’s not above playing a game of cat and mouse with you. Stalking you, hunting you. You are not allowed to leave.
He’s drunk on you, actually, drunk on something he hasn’t even had yet, but he’ll get it. You’re his. And his alone.
And when he catches you, he’ll make sure you can’t forget it ever again.
Ethan Winters
He’s been through so fucking much, died at least 3 times and was brought back through unethical experiments and the power of God’s twisted sense of humor.
Lost his wife twice. The only good thing left in his life is Rose.
When you come around, he’s wary and tired, but he accepts the help anyway, because if he stops thinking that humans are fundamentaly good he’s going to throw himself off a bridge, and it probably won’t even kill him.
And thankfully, you prove him right.
He only gets to come out of the « medical » facility they’ve got him under surveillance at when they need his abilities to... save the world ? Make it worse ? He doesn’t really know anymore.
You’re his usual companion – his guard dog, he thought bitterly at first – and you do your best to actually help him, not let him take all the risks and do all the work. You even fight for him to finally get an appartment outside of the facility, near Rose. He’s still under surveillance, and he has to attend weekly check-ups, but you’re there every time, if only to be a friendly presence.
He cannot thank you enough, really.
When he starts catching feelings for you, he beats them back into the darkness of his heart with a stick. He has loved and been loved and has had that love turned against him in the most painful ways already. He can’t go through that again.
Rose is different. Firstly because she’s his daughter, he really can’t help but love her unconditionally, and he does. Secondly, because she has powers that keep her mostly safe from all the wild conspiracy theory shit that’s happening around them, and he likely will not lose her the way he lost Mia.
But you ? You’re devastatingly human.
He also can’t bear the thought of spreading his monstrosity to you. You’re a good person, a light in the darkness really, and you deserve so much better.
So he keeps his distance. Or pines from afar like a schoolboy with a crush on the popular kid, according to Rose. Which is hard to do when you keep coming around, asking how he’s doing, being friends with Rose outside of work.
So one day, when you come to the appartment with flowers and food and a warm smile, and it’s a bad day with the mold, and you put the flowers in a vase while Rose puts the food in the fridge, when you put the vase down on the table in front of him and he brushes tired fingers against the soft petals, only to see them wilt instantly, he swallows all the anger and hate and misery and tries to hide it all behind his hands. But you are here at his side, all gentle and caring and worried for him. You lay a careful hand on his shoulder, assuring him it’s okay, you’ll just buy more, joking that hey, maybe you’ll buy plastic ones next time.
And he bursts. Send the vase and the rotten flowers flying across the room, shouting at you not to touch him. You jump and take your hand back in fear, and god, that makes him feel even worse. He slumps in his chair, tired from all of it. « I’ll just rot you, too. » he says with tears in his voice.
« Ethan Winters. » you bite after a moment of silence.
« Oh shit, full government name. » quips Rose from the kitchen.
« You are not a monster. » you continue, still looking straight into his eyes. « In fact, you are probably the best man I have ever met. »
He doesn’t see any doubt, or fear, or hint of lying in your eyes. And despite himself, he starts sobbing. In an instant, your arms are around him and you are rubbing his back and petting his hair and laying soft kisses to his temple like you can’t help yourself.
And he knows he’s fucked, he can’t do this without you. He loves you.
Carlos Oliveira
He knows he’s attracted to you fairly early. He’s got a big heart, and to be quite honest, he has been wanting to be in a relationship. So he’s been looking around for that spark and you ? Oh, you’re everything.
But the world is going to shit and there’s much to be done so he doesn’t really get the opportunity to ask you out on a date. Because, yes, he wants to date you. Take the time to know you, to have all the relationship-defining conversations and everything. He wants love, and he isn’t going to waste his time or yours.
But during and in between missions and running away from living nightmares you two are getting close. And he likes what he gets to see.
When you tell him about your hobbies and interests outside of this hell, he loves the way you can’t seem to stop. And he loves the way you can’t seem to stop listening to him when he shares his.
When you talk about the people dear to you, he sees how much affection you have in you, and really, he wants to give it back to you.
When one day the topic of clothing styles come up, and you tell him about you wish you could dress every day, he can’t help but imagine you in the outfits you describe and sometimes he remembers that conversation in the most inappropriate ways and it starts haunting the back of his mind at the most inappropriate moments
He loves your sense of humor, and more than that he loves your laugh.
Lately he’s been loving your smell, and the way you say his name.
Yeah, okay, he’s getting sappy. But he still wants to do things right, and date you first. Besides, it’s still just attraction, nothing more, nothing less.
But then you don’t get paired up. And it’s okay, it’s just one mission, he’ll see you again.
By the time he comes back, you’re gone on your own mission. It’s okay, it happens.
But this back and forth lasts a month and he’s going insane. He can’t even catch you in between missions because when you’re free, he’s gone, and when he’s free, you’re gone. And he really fucking misses you. Is that how his cat feels when he leaves ? (Carlos is a cat man and you cannot convince me otherwise) Like the sun has set and won’t seem to come back up ? At this point he’d pay to see you smile on the other side of the street.
When you finally, finally come back to him, it’s like he can breathe again. And when you see him, there’s a barely contained happy bounce in your step as you approach him, smiling so wide you’d think he was holding the key to word peace.
The conversation starts a bit awkward, « long time no see », « how are you doing ? », but then you fumble with your bag and hand him something. « I got you this ! » you say, bouncing on your feet again.
He looks down and it’s the gaudiest, ugliest, most ridiculous Raccoon City magnet.
Forget dating. He’s marrying you.
Luis Serra
He’s flirting, you’re flirting back, the banter is easy and getting easier each day. He’s having fun talking to you, getting to know you, fighting alongside you, patching each other up. It’s fun, it’s easy, it’s the exact dynamic he’s always wanted to find. You’re a good friend. Right ?
You’re usually together one on one, when your paths do cross. He loves that he gets you all to himself, that he can pry you open slowly, like a treasure chest. And he loves what he finds inside. The humor and the intelligence, the caring, the kindness, the humanity. You both have seen messed up stuff and it’s a welcome reminder that the whole world does not amount to these horrors.
He has started touching you, a hand on your arm, a strand of hair brushed out of your face, an arm slung around your shoulders as he flirts harmlessly, and you’ve been smiling and letting him do it, sometimes even touching him too (a friendly slap on the arm, fingers brushing at a bullet-graze on his clothes), when you both come across another person and, naturally, he flirts with them too.
And suddenly, it all stops.
You don’t touch anymore, you don’t flirt anymore, hell, you don’t even smile at him anymore, except in this awfully polite, hypocritical way that he hates. The contrast is so brutal that it almost gives him whiplash. But he’s a smart man, and he doesn’t take him long to realize what’s going on.
« Are you jealous ? » he asks in his usual flirty, amused tone, once the other person is out of earshot.
He knows he fucked up instantly, because you clench your teeth so hard the vein on your neck starts pulsing. Your eyes are ice cold when you look at him and answer : « I am not jealous. I just realized I was wrong. »
He feels like his heart fell out of his chest and he wants to throw up. You thought- You were- Oh god. Shit. Fuck. Yeah, he flirted with you because that’s his nature, but when you flirted back he thought you were just joking, matching his energy. Honestly, he didn’t even think about it, the fact that maybe you could catch feelings for him, because usually, people don’t. He’s good for a flirt and a lay but that’s it.
Except now, he does have to think about it. Because you were the closest thing he ever got to a friend, and because he actually really liked having you flirt back, the way it boosted his ego like no one else did before. And the way those tentative touches had him lightheaded, wanting to touch more.
Oh. Oh.
He wants to swear in spanish and english and a few other languages that he can barely speak. But instead he says : « I’m an idiot. » Because he is.
You look at him like you’re waiting for him to tell you something you don’t know, and, yeah, he probably deserves that. So, slowly, as if he’s approaching a feral cat, he takes your hand in his.
« You weren’t wrong. But would you believe me if I said that I hadn’t realized it until now ? »
You close your eyes and scrunch up your face to repress a laugh, but you can’t keep a smile. « Oh my god, » you answer, rubbing at your eyes in amused disbelief, « I do. You’re such an idiot. » you add after a beat.
« I am such an idiot, » he agrees, smiling and looking into your eyes, before bringing your hand to his mouth and placing a kiss on your knuckles.
Jack Krauser
Someone in the chain of command tells him you would be better suited for another team, providing proof with statistics and graphs and all that jazz, and all he says is : « Absolutely not. » before storming out of the room.
He looks cold and in control on the oustside but on the inside ? Oh, he wants to burn that person and their entire family, hell, their entire world alive, for even suggesting that you be under someone else’s command.
And even he knows that’s an overreaction on his part.
He hates it but he does have to wonder why. So he examines your interactions, your missions, the times you fought together, the times you fought against each other, the respect for you that grew and keeps growing still.
The way if anything were to happen to you, he would kill anyone in the room and then bring you back in fucked up RE appropriate ways, because truly, it’s not that he can’t do it without you, but he doesn’t want to.
He grits his teeth when the feeling mounts into the conscious part of his mind and when it hits, he gets so infuriated he crushes whatever is on hand. It’s not good, it’s a weakness, it’s a danger to his purpose.
But it doesn’t have to be. He could use you as added motivation. He could put you in the right place, at the right time, so that the danger posed to you will make him dangerously feral. He can use these feelings to his advantage.
Prepare to be put on the front lines a lot, girlie. And if you do get hurt, you will still be barked at, because it’s your own damn fault. He’s already weak enough for you. Don’t make him weaker.
Karl Heisenberg
He knows he’s an asshole and he knows he’s unhinged bordering on totally insane. An asshole, he always was, but he really blames the madness on Miranda and her experiments and being stuck in this goddamn valley for decades with what is basically a cult and its leaders. It’s like cabin-fever. He knows the only way he could regain sanity would be to get the fuck out, but he also knows that the winged freak would never let him, and that he would just allow her plague to grow if he ever did manage to leave, anyway. So he’s stuck here but every second makes him even madder and angrier, like a nuclear reactor getting closer and closer to explosion.
And he knows that makes him fight with you about stupid shit.
And he knew it was only a matter of time until one of those fights turned really ugly. Because he’s an asshole and he’s unhinged bordering on totally insane.
But he must have done something right because ever since he’s let you stay with him you’ve been growing more and more confident around him, and yes, that also means you’ve been butting heads more, and you haven’t been backing down. He loves that. He hates that. On good days it makes him laugh like a maniac, but on bad days, like today, it makes him absolutely enraged.
He knows he almost blew the entire factory up. He knows he almost killed all his monsters, the villagers, and you. And he knows you know it too. You saw him start turning into the real monster that’s constantly bubbling under his skin, saw his body and face contort into terrifying, inhuman shapes.
He doesn’t know if you ran away. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. Metal was already flying everywhere in a chaotic ballet and the entire factory was rumbling under the force of the power literally pushing at its walls, when he felt himself changing. He saw the panic in your eyes and caught himself, surrounded himself in a thick layer of junk, like a straight jacket, like a weighted blanket, clawed at his own face in the darkness, screamed his voice raw, and when the self-hatred finally passed, he made himself breathe to kill what was left of the rage. The only thing left now was guilt.
The claw marks had healed already, and he was back to his « human » appaearance. But he didn’t dare let his metal cocoon fall away yet. You probably had ran away, actually, a very normal reaction to mortal danger. And he probably wasn’t the same person anymore, in your eyes. Maybe he wasn’t even a person anymore. He had accepted the fact that he was a monster now long ago, and it was only a matter of time until you figured it out too.
He finally comes out of his cage and, yeah, you’re not here. A wise decision. He’s not even mad, really. Just... alone. And it hits him harder than he would have thought. And it also hits him that he fucking got attached. He thought he was too old and too fucked up to develop teenager crushes, goddammit.
He sits down on the nearest chair and lets all of the junk fall to the ground in a deafening cacophony. He used a lot of energy on his outburst and he’s so, so tired now. Thanks to Miranda’s curse, he knows he’ll be right back to his usual chaotic energy in a few hours, but right now he feels the exhaustion in his bones. He leans back on the chair and pulls his hat on his eyes to maybe take a nap, when footsteps echo outside of the room. He raises his chin just in time to see you come in, all straight back and clenched fists. He doesn’t say anything, torn between wonder at the fact that you’re still here, and wonder at the fact that you’re still alive in this valley if your survival instinct is that bad.
« Get up. » you say, your eyes wet and your jaw set. He adjusts his hat back and he does get up, because what the fuck, and you take his hands with trembling fingers and raise his arms a little and examine him like he’s a pickpocket and you’ve found your wallet missing.
But then you ask : « Are you okay ? » with a shaky voice. Oh, you’re really stupid, he thinks, because sweetheart, what are you doing, worrying for the monster who almost ate you up ? But something else stirs in the back of what’s left of his humanity, something soft and fragile, and really, he can’t bring himself to lie.
« I haven’t been okay in a long time. » he snorts derisively. And you fucking sniffle. And ask if you can hug him. He is honestly too stunned to do anything but open his arms for you, and he has to admit that when you snuggle against him, it feels nice. Human. Almost normal, even.
Your survival instinct is shit, he muses as he gives in to the tentation of hugging you back. He’ll just have to make up for it, he supposes. But he is not losing the one thing that makes him feel like less of a monster.
Your pathetically obsessed bf headcanons are engraved in my brain… I require more
Blue Lock Characters As Your Pathetically Obsessed Boyfriend ( Part 2 )
➺ a/n : omg thank you so much 😭🫶 I’m so glad you liked it !! and I’m actually so glad you requested this because i’ve had a part 2 sitting in my notes… now I have an excuse to post it. sorry im kinda running with this idea, hope i’m not overdoing it 🥹😢
!! fair warning some of these might be a bit extreme, so read at your own caution !! i lowkey got carried away and took the “pathetically obsessed” part a bit too seriously 😣 !!
also i’m genuinely so happy that people are enjoying my writing, it means so much to me !! i love you all 💗
➺ p.s : tried writing for Bunny and Hugo for the first time ever, highkey might be ooc
°˖➴ part 1 ❤︎
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Yoichi Isagi ✮⋆˙
He records your voice memos or saves old snippets of you laughing and listens to them on a loop during his solo training sessions. He claims it’s his motivation, but in reality, he’s addicted to the sound of you acknowledging him. If he goes too long without hearing your voice, he starts to lose his composure on the field, his ego fracturing because the only person who matters hasn't validated him today.
He is hyper-fixated on your digital footprint. He has notifications turned on for every single one of your social media accounts; if you like a photo of another guy, even a celebrity, he will spend hours analyzing what that person has that he doesn't. He’ll then evolve his style or behaviour to match it, desperately asking you, "I'm better like this, right? You don't need anyone else when you have me."
His eyes are constantly darting around when you're in a crowd. He isn't looking at the scenery; he’s calculating the trajectory of every person walking toward you. If he senses even a 1% chance of someone hitting on you, he’ll immediately tuck you into his side and stare the stranger down with a terrifying, predatory intensity. The moment they pass, he turns back to you with watery, puppy-dog eyes, begging for a kiss because the "stress" of almost losing your attention nearly broke him.
Meguru Bachira ✮⋆˙
He is physically incapable of being away from you for more than an hour. He will hide in your laundry basket or under your bed just to jump out and surprise you, laughing hysterically at first, but then his eyes go wide and glazed as he clings to your legs. He’ll sob into your knees about how lonely and dark it is when you aren't looking at him, refusing to let go until you promise to never leave the room without him again.
He has a habit of playing with your belongings. If he sees you using a pen or a coffee mug, he’ll steal it the moment you put it down just to keep a piece of you near him. He doesn’t see it as stealing; he sees it as an essential part of his survival. If you catch him and ask for it back, he’ll pout and do a manic little dribble with a soccer ball around you, teasing you until you’re forced to chase him—which is exactly what he wants: your total, undivided focus.
He wants to be inside your skin. He doesn't just want to hug you; he wants to be fused to you. He’ll follow you into the bathroom, sit at your feet while you work, and mimic your every movement like a shadow. When you sleep, he wraps himself around you like an octopus, tucking his head under your chin and breathing in sync with you. If he wakes up and feels even a centimeter of space between your bodies, he’ll have a full-blown panic attack, convinced that the "Monster" took you away because he wasn't holding you tight enough.
Hyoma Chigiri ✮⋆˙
He is obsessed with grooming you, viewing your appearance as a direct reflection of his ownership. He’ll spend hours brushing your hair, applying skincare to your face, or picking out your outfits with a terrifying level of detail. It’s not just about aesthetics; he wants you to be so perfected by his hands that you feel you can’t function without his touch. If you try to get ready without him, he’ll get incredibly cold and standoffish, acting as if you’ve personally insulted his pride just to make you apologize and beg for his help again.
He keeps a digital scrapbook of every candid photo he’s ever taken of you, many of which you didn't even know he took. He’ll scroll through them at night while you’re asleep beside him, tracing your features on the screen. If he sees a photo where you look particularly happy without him in the frame, he’ll delete it immediately. To Chigiri, your happiness is only valid if it’s a result of his presence. He wants to be the crown on your head and the shackles on your feet, ensuring you never run away from the beautiful life he’s curated for you.
He is pathetically addicted to your praise regarding his legs and his beauty. He’ll lounge across your lap, baring his neck or showing off his toned legs, and wait with bated breath for you to stroke him. If you don't give him enough attention, he’ll start to break down, crying about how he’s just a "broken player" who only has you left. He uses his past injury as a psychological weapon, making you feel like you’re the only person who can keep him from falling apart again, effectively trapping you in a cycle of constant reassurance.
Rin Itoshi ✮⋆˙
He is pathetically reliant on your physical presence to stay grounded. When he’s in his flow state on the field, he’s a monster, but the moment the whistle blows, he’s scanning the stands with a desperate, frantic look until he finds you. If he can’t see you, he’ll have a silent, shaking breakdown in the locker room. He’ll force you to sit on his lap while he watches match film, digging his fingers into your hips so hard it leaves marks, just to remind himself that you’re a tangible reality and not a lukewarm dream he’s going to wake up from.
His jealousy is quiet, and utterly suffocating. If he sees you laughing with his brother, Sae, or even Isagi, he won’t cause a scene. He’ll simply discard his own well-being until you notice. He’ll stop eating or training until you’re forced to beg him to take care of himself. He loves the power trip of seeing you cry over his health, finding a sick sense of satisfaction in the fact that he can make you suffer just by hurting himself. He’ll whisper, "If you keep looking at them, I might just disappear... is that what you want ?"
He is obsessed with tearing down your independence. He’ll find flaws in your friends or your hobbies, slowly whispering poison about how they don't truly understand you like he does. He wants to be your entire world : your god, your rival, and your only comfort. At night, he’ll pull you flush against his chest, his heartbeat erratic and loud, and mutter about how lukewarm the rest of the world is compared to the fire he feels when he's suffocating you with his love. He doesn't want a partner; he wants an obsession that he can never ever win against.
Sae Itoshi ✮⋆˙
He treats your life like a perfectly choreographed play that he is the sole director of. Sae doesn't ask for your time; he calculates it. He’ll send a car to pick you up without warning, expecting you to abandon your plans because, in his mind, nothing you do is more important than being his support. He is pathetically addicted to the idea that you are the only high-quality thing in his life. If you try to do something mundane or low-level without him, he’ll look at you with total disgust, not because he hates you, but because he’s terrified that the lukewarm world will rub off on you and ruin his perfect prize.
His physical affection is demanding. He doesn't just cuddle; he inspects. He’ll hold your face in his hands and stare into your eyes for minutes at a time, searching for any hint of boredom or wandering thoughts. If he finds even a trace of interest in someone else, his cold demeanor cracks into something much darker. He’ll make you sit at his feet while he plays soccer, forcing you to watch his every move for hours, desperately needing to hear you admit that no one else in the world, especially not his brother, can compare to him.
He is obsessed with your potential and will try to mold you into his ideal version of a person. He’ll buy you expensive jewelry and clothes, not as gifts, but as uniforms that mark you as his. If you wear something he didn't pick out, he’ll literally throw it away and replace it while you’re sleeping. He’s pathetic in the way he craves your submission; he wants you to be so dependent on his superior taste and lifestyle that the very idea of leaving him feels like stepping into a void. He wants to be the only breath of fresh air in your lungs, suffocating you with a life so luxurious you forget how to breathe on your own.
Rensuke Kunigami ✮⋆˙
Since his Wild Card transformation, his obsession has turned from heroic protection into a dark, territorial one. He views you as his only remaining tether to his humanity, which makes him pathetically desperate to keep you locked away from the trash of the world. He’ll stand guard outside your door or follow a few paces behind you in the shadows, his presence looming like a silent, vengeful ghost. He doesn't think he deserves your love, but he’ll destroy anyone who tries to take it, convinced that he is the only one strong enough to keep you safe.
He is addicted to the weight of you. After a long day of training, he’ll collapse onto you, using his massive frame to pin you to the bed. He won't say a word; he just buries his face in the crook of your neck and breathes in your scent until his tremors stop. It’s pathetic how quickly his exterior crumbles the moment you touch him. If you try to push him off because he’s too heavy, he’ll tighten his grip and growl lowly, a desperate, broken sound that says he’d rather die than let you create an inch of distance between your bodies.
His jealousy is a slow-burning, physical rage. If he sees another man even breathe in your direction, he doesn't shout, he simply walks over and looms behind you, his hand dropping onto your shoulder with enough pressure to make your knees buckle. He’ll stare at the offender with hollow, dead eyes until they flee in terror. Once you’re alone, he becomes pathetically needy, kneeling before you and pressing his forehead against your stomach, begging you to tell him that he’s the only hero you’ll ever need, even if he has to become a villain to keep you.
Shoei Barou ✮⋆˙
His eyes are permanently fixed on you when you’re out in public. He doesn't look at the world; he looks for threats to what’s his. If he sees you struggling with a heavy bag or being bothered by a stranger, he doesn't just help, he looms over the situation like a shadow, his massive frame blocking out the sun. He wants you to feel small and protected only by him. He’ll purposefully walk at a pace that forces you to hold onto his arm, finding a sick sense of pride in the fact that you have to physically cling to him just to keep up with his stride.
He is pathetically addicted to the domestic routine he’s forced upon you. Every night, he demands you sit and eat the high-quality meals he’s prepared, watching your every bite to ensure you’re being nourished properly. If you try to eat trash food or skip a meal, he’ll have a quiet tantrum, convinced that you’re rejecting his care. He’ll literally hand-feed you just to regain control, his eyes dark and intense as he mutters, "Don't put that garbage in your body. Only I decide what's good enough for you."
He keeps a strict schedule of your life that he expects you to follow to the second. He’ll text you at 10:00 PM sharp to ensure you’re in bed, and if you don't respond within two minutes, he’ll show up at your window or door, claiming he was "just in the neighborhood for a run." In reality, he was pacing outside your house for twenty minutes, terrified that someone else was taking up the time that belongs to the King.
Reo Mikage ✮⋆˙
He is pathetically addicted to being your everything. Just as he can mimic any soccer skill, he will mimic your ideal type to a terrifying degree. If you mention you like a certain personality trait or hobby, he will master it overnight just to prove he’s the only one you need. He’ll drop his own interests, his training, and even his family obligations the second you send a low effort text. He’ll show up at your door trembling, asking if he’s "not enough" anymore, his eyes wide and desperate for you to reassure him that he’s still your favourite.
His jealousy is a frantic, expensive mess. If he sees you getting close to Nagi, or anyone else, he won't just get mad; he’ll try to buy your loyalty back. He’ll book a spontaneous trip to Paris or buy you a diamond ring just because you laughed at someone else’s joke. It’s pathetic how he uses his inheritance as a shield against his own insecurity. He’ll track your phone "for your safety," and if he sees you’re somewhere he didn't approve of, he’ll call you every thirty seconds until you pick up, his voice cracking as he demands to know why you’re trying to lose him.
He keeps every gift you’ve ever given him in a glass display case, but he also keeps things like your old hair ties or clothes because they "still have your DNA on them." When you’re not around, he sits in the center of his massive, empty mansion clutching a pillow that smells like you, spiraling into a dark place where he imagines you being stolen.
Nagi Seishiro ✮⋆˙
He treats you like his personal life support system. Nagi is famously lazy, but he will exert an exhausting amount of energy to ensure you never leave his side. He’ll go limp and go dead weight on top of you, refusing to move for hours, effectively trapping you under him so you’re forced to stay in bed and stroke his hair. It’s pathetic how he’s weaponized his apathy; if you try to get up to see friends, he’ll just stare at the ceiling with hollow eyes and whisper, "Everything is a hassle without you... I think I’ll just stop breathing if you go."
His jealousy is silent, stagnant, and terrifyingly heavy. If someone tries to flirt with you, Nagi won't move a muscle or raise his voice. He’ll simply lean his entire body weight against you and stare at the person with a bored, soul-crushing intensity until they leave out of pure discomfort. Once they're gone, he’ll bury his face in your neck and demand you recharge him, making you feel guilty for even being perceived by another person. He’ll murmur, "That guy was noisy... stay here where it’s quiet," as he tightens his grip like a boa constrictor.
He has a pathetic need to be carried by you emotionally. Despite his genius on the pitch, he acts completely helpless at home just to force you to dote on him. He’ll "forget" how to cook or even how to dress himself, waiting for you to do it for him with a faint, sleepy smirk. He wants to be your most demanding burden, believing that if you spend all your time taking care of him, you won't have the energy to look at anyone else.
Oliver Aiku ✮⋆˙
He is obsessed with your purity in a way that is deeply hypocritical given his own past as a flirt. Because he knows every trick in the book, he sees them everywhere you go. If a waiter smiles at you, Aiku is already calculating the man's trajectory to shut him down before he can even speak. He wants to ensure you aren't polluted by anyone else’s attention. He’s pathetic in the way he’ll later whine and pout, asking you if that guy was "really your type," needing you to stroke his ego and tell him that no one else even exists in your eyes.
His physical affection is territorial and overwhelming. He uses his size to completely envelope you in public. He’ll drape his heavy arms over your shoulders or pull you into his lap in front of his teammates, staring down anyone who dares to look your way with a cold, heterochromatic gaze that says you are private property. He finds a sick sense of satisfaction in marking you, leaving his scent on your clothes or giving you his captain’s armband to wear, so that everyone knows you belong to him. If you try to create space, he’ll act like a wounded animal, kneeling at your feet and begging to know what he did wrong.
Aiku is pathetically addicted to being your protector, to the point where he will subtly manipulate situations to make you feel like the world is more dangerous than it actually is. He’ll mention "suspicious" people he saw near your house or "leering" glances from strangers just so you’ll squeeze his arm a little tighter.
Shuto Sendou ✮⋆˙
Sendou is pathetically obsessed with how the world perceives your relationship; he’ll constantly post photos of you two, not because he wants to share his happiness, but because he wants to brand you as his in front of everyone. He’ll whisper about his dream of marrying a Hollywood star, but then he’ll look at you with desperate, bloodshot eyes and admit that he’d give up all the fame in the world just to ensure you never look at another man. He’ll act like a spoiled brat the moment you give an ounce of your time to anyone else.
If he sees you enjoying a specific gift from a friend, he’ll immediately go out and buy a version that’s ten times more expensive just to overwrite their influence. He is pathetically competitive about being your favorite person. He’ll track your likes and comments on social media, and if he finds a guy who interacts with you too much, he’ll spend the whole night bad-mouthing them to you, desperately trying to convince you that he’s the only one that is able to handle someone like you.
His physical affection is loud, performative, and deeply clingy. In public, he’s always got an arm around your waist or his hand tangling in yours, making sure everyone knows who you belong to. But the moment you’re alone, his persona crumbles into a needy mess. He’ll whine and complain about how mean Aiku, or any other teammate, were to him at practice, burying his face in your lap and demanding you pet his head until he feels like a king again.
Ryusei Shidou ✮⋆˙
Shidou is pathetically addicted to the rush he feels when he’s near you; he describes his love in visceral, almost violent terms, claiming that your existence is the only thing that makes his cells combust. If you aren't around to witness his goals or his life, he becomes a destructive, restless animal, picking fights with everyone around him just to feel something that isn't the agonizing boredom of your absence.
He is a predator who has completely abandoned the concept of personal boundaries. He will barge into your home, your workplace, or your shower without a second thought, grinning like a demon and demanding you “make him explode." He’s pathetic in the way he craves your physical reaction; he’ll purposefully do freaky or provocative things in public just to see you blush, finding a sick pleasure in the fact that he’s the only one who can make you lose your composure.
He is obsessed with your scent. He’ll spend hours just burying his face in your hair or your neck, inhaling you as if you’re his only source of oxygen. He’s pathetic in the way he’ll literally whine and growl if you try to pull away, acting like a starved beast that’s finally found a feast. He keeps your used clothes in his sports bag and sleeps with them pressed to his face during training camps, convinced that if he loses your scent, he’ll lose his instinct entirely. He wants to be the only one who can make you scream, and he’ll haunt your every waking moment until you admit that his love is the only drug you’ll ever need.
Tabito Karasu ✮⋆˙
Karasu is pathetically obsessed with identifying your "weak points", not to exploit them, but to ensure he is the only one who can protect them. He’ll keep a mental log of your insecurities and bad habits, subtly pointing them out just to follow up with, "Good thing you have me to handle that for you, right? A mediocre person would've let you crash and burn by now."
If he senses another person, especially a "mediocre" guy, trying to get close to you, he won't get loud. Instead, he’ll use his sharp tongue to systematically dismantle that person’s confidence in front of you, making them look so pathetic that you lose interest naturally. He’ll then lean in close, his crow-like eyes gleaming with satisfaction, and whisper something snarky. He’s pathetic in the way he craves your confirmation that he’s the only one able to stand by your side.
He can tell if you’re lying, hiding a secret, or feeling distant just by the way your pupils dilate. He’ll corner you against a wall and tilt your chin up, demanding you explain the change in your behavior. He finds it pathetic how much he needs to be in sync with you; if he can't predict your next move, he starts to spiral into frustration. He’ll force you to stay in his personal space for hours, using his hands to check your heartbeat and temperature, obsessed with the physical proof that you are still his.
Eita Otoya ✮⋆˙
He treats your life like a mission where he is the only one allowed to remain undetected in your blind spots. Otoya is pathetically addicted to the thrill of being near you without you realizing it; he’ll use his "Ninja" movements to follow you home or appear silently behind you the moment you think you’re alone. If you get startled, he’ll just give you a sleepy, half-lidded smirk and whisper, "You should pay more attention to your surroundings... what if I was someone dangerous instead of just the guy who loves you ?"
He is obsessed with your online presence and uses his "playboy" persona as a cover for his deep-seated insecurity. He’ll post flirty messages on his social media just to see if you’ll react, but the moment you post a photo with another guy, his "chill” facade completely evaporates. He’ll find out everything about the person, their hobbies, their address, and then spend the next week making sure you’re too busy with him to ever see them again. He’s pathetic in the way he’ll fake being bored just to guilt you into canceling your plans to stay home and entertain him.
He doesn't just hold your hand; he’ll trail his fingers along your spine or ghost his lips against your ear in public, disappearing back into the crowd before you can even turn around. He finds a sick satisfaction in being a ghost that haunts your skin. When you’re alone, he becomes a heavy, clingy shadow, draping himself over you like a cloak and refusing to let go. He’ll mutter about how noisy and boring other girls are, begging you to keep being the only quiet place where he can actually breathe.
Kenyu Yukimiya ✮⋆˙
His eye condition has morphed his obsession into a desperate, ticking clock. Because he’s terrified of the day his vision might fail, he is pathetically reliant on memorizing you. He’ll spend hours staring at you under the guise of a romantic gaze, but in reality, he’s trying to etch every pore, every eyelash, and every micro-expression into his brain so he never forgets what you look like. If you turn away or cover your face, he gets uncharacteristically agitated, pulling your hands down with a shaky grip and begging you to let him "keep looking" while he still can.
He is a gentleman whose politeness is a suffocating cage. He’ll insist on walking you to the door, carrying even your smallest bags, and opening every car door, but it’s really a way to keep you on a short leash. If you try to do something for yourself, he’ll act deeply wounded, claiming that you’re "robbing him of his purpose." He is pathetic in the way he uses his charisma to isolate you; he’ll charm your friends and family so thoroughly that if you ever complained about his clinginess, no one would believe you, leaving you trapped in a "perfect" relationship that only he controls.
His jealousy is passive-aggressive and relentless. If he sees you admiring another man’s talent or looks, he won't get angry, he’ll just become "the victim." He’ll start talking about how his "time is running out" and how he’s struggling to stay at the top just for you. He uses his vulnerability as a weapon to make you feel guilty for even blinking in someone else’s direction. At night, he’ll hold you close and whisper about how "God is testing him," but as long as he has you by his side, he can endure any darkness.
Hiori Yo ✮⋆˙
Having grown up under the suffocating expectations of his parents, Hiori is pathetically desperate for you to be the one thing in his life that isn't a "job." He’ll stay up all night playing video games with you, not because he cares about the game, but because it’s the only time he feels like he can breathe without his parents' voices in his head. If you show interest in another player, he won’t get angry; he’ll just go quiet and ask if he’s becoming boring like the life he tried to run away from, his eyes glassing over with a heartbreaking vulnerability that forces you to stay.
He analyzes your every mood to provide the perfect comfort. He’ll buy you your favorite snacks, adjust the room temperature, and dim the lights before you even realize you’re uncomfortable. He wants to be so useful to you that the very idea of a life without his support feels impossible. He’ll whisper, "You don't have to do anything... just let me be the one who takes care of the world for you."
His jealousy is deeply manipulative. If he sees you getting close to someone like Isagi or Karasu, he’ll start talking about how "lucky" they are to be so talented and liked by everyone, unlike him who was "made in a lab." He uses his childhood trauma as a tether, making you feel like you are the only person who truly sees him.
Michael Kaiser ✮⋆˙
Kaiser is pathetically addicted to the idea that you are his “Empress” but in reality, he is the one bowing to you behind closed doors. He’ll buy you the most expensive, avant-garde jewelry, specifically chokers or necklaces, just so he can see his mark on your neck from across a room. He doesn't just want to love you; he wants to colonize your life, replacing every one of your interests with things he has curated, so that everywhere you look, you only see him.
If he sees you interacting with someone he considers inferior, he won't just get jealous, he’ll go on a crusade to humiliate that person in front of you. He’ll make sure you witness their pathetic nature just so you’ll turn back to him and realize he’s the only one in your world. He is pathetic in the way he craves your validation; he’ll score a world-class goal and immediately look for you in the stands, his heart stopping until he sees your eyes on him, proving he’s still the center of your universe.
He has a pathetic need for physical submission from you, not in a violent way, but in a way that proves you belong to him. He’ll force you to sit on his lap while he’s being interviewed or make you hold his hand while he’s training, showing the world that even the Emperor has a leash, and you’re the only one allowed to hold it. At night, he’ll wrap his tattooed arm around your throat lightly, just enough to feel your pulse, and murmur about how impossible it would be for you to ever run away from him.
Alexis Ness ✮⋆˙
Growing up in a family that stifled his imagination, Ness is pathetically desperate to believe that you are his "miracle." He’ll spend all night performing card tricks or "magic" illusions for you, his eyes wide and shimmering with a manic intensity. If you don't look impressed or if you try to explain how the trick works, he’ll have a quiet, sobbing breakdown, accusing you of "killing the magic" just like his parents did, until you’re forced to hold him and tell him that he’s the most talented magician in the world.
He is a "devoted servant" who has replaced his loyalty to Kaiser with a total, suffocating fixation on you. He’ll do everything for you: brushing your hair, making your tea at the exact temperature he’s calculated you like, and even tieing your shoes. He finds a sick sense of purpose in being "useful" to you. If you try to do something independently, he’ll get an eerie, frozen smile on his face and start vibrating with anxiety, asking if you’re trying to discard him because he isn't perfect enough. He wants to be your shadow, believing that if he isn't constantly serving you, he has no right to exist.
His jealousy is passive-aggressive and borderline hysterical. If he sees you paying attention to someone else, especially Isagi, he won't just get mad; he’ll start "cursing" them under his breath. He’ll invent "yellow cards" and "red cards" for people who talk to you for too long, giggling to himself as he imagines them disappearing. He’ll then cling to your arm and beg you to tell him that they were "boring" , needing to hear that his devotion is the only thing that keeps your heart beating.
Bunny Iglesias ✮⋆˙
Despite his calm and polite exterior, Bunny is pathetically obsessed with the contrast between your happiness and his own inner void. He’ll follow you through the streets of Barcelona, keeping exactly ten paces behind you, watching the way you interact with the world with a look of intense, melancholic hunger. If he sees you looking too joyful without him, he’ll approach you with a gentle, terrifying smile and whisper, "When I see you looking that happy... it makes me want to die. Won't you share some of that pain with me ?"
He is a "playful liar” who uses deception to keep you trapped in his orbit. He’ll tell you small, meaningless lies about what he ate, where he’s going, or what he’s thinking, just to see if you’re paying enough attention to catch him. He finds it pathetic how much he craves your correction. If you call him out on a lie, he’ll beam at you, his red eyes shimmering, and admit that he only lied so you’d have a reason to look at him longer. He wants your relationship to be a maze that only he knows the exit to, ensuring you’re always lost in him.
He views you as his only true rival for his own heart. He’ll wear his "Solo Yo" (Only I) shirt, but then beg you to overwrite the message with your own name. He finds a sick satisfaction in being defeated by you emotionally. At night, he’ll pin you down with his robust, athletic build and bury his face in your chest, muffledly admitting that he doesn't understand himself at all and because of that, you have to be the one to define him.
Vivian Hugo ✮⋆˙
He treats your love as a predetermined outcome that he has already calculated. Hugo is pathetically obsessed with the idea that you were born to be his, and he’ll spend hours explaining the logic behind why any other partner would be a statistical failure for you. He doesn’t just want to be with you; he wants you to accept that your entire life path has been leading toward him. If you show a spark of independence or change your mind about a plan, he’ll look at you with cold, almond-shaped eyes and sigh, acting as if you’re "malfunctioning" against your own nature just to make you feel irrational.
He is a shadow who finds a sick sense of satisfaction in being your indispensable number two. Just as he serves Julian Loki on the pitch to become a legend, he wants to be the silent architect of your life. He’ll dialogue with his current self in his blank books for hours, planning out your future career, your meals, and even your social interactions. It’s pathetic how he avoids the spotlight just to ensure he has total control from the wings. He wants you to be the "No. 1" in the world's eyes, while he remains the only one who knows how to keep you standing, whispering that without his reading of your life, you’d simply fall apart.
He is pathetically addicted to the symbolism of your connection. He treats you like the "Life is Beautiful" movie he loves, a tragic but "logical" masterpiece. He’ll give you silver chains as gifts, claiming they represent the purity of your bond, but he’ll watch them obsessively for any sign of rusting ( your fading interest ). At night, he’ll hold you with a neutral expression while muttering that "all that's left is courage" for you to fully surrender to him.
Summary: When Lando introduced you to his stream, they loved you more than him
Song: Company · Justin Bieber
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶
Word count: 1.6k
MASTERLIST - F1
The hum of the high-end gaming PC was the only sound in the room, save for the rhythmic clicking of Lando’s mechanical keyboard and the occasional distant rumble of a passing car outside his Monaco apartment.
You were curled up in the oversized, ergonomic chair behind him, your chin resting on his shoulder, watching the dual monitors flicker with the glow of a live Twitch setup.
"You ready for this?" Lando asked, his eyes dancing with a mix of mischief and nerves. He turned his head, his cheek brushing against yours. "The chat has been asking where you’ve been for three weeks. If I don't bring you on, they’re going to riot."
You laughed, a soft sound that he seemed to cherish more than the roar of his McLaren MCL60. "They don’t want to see me, Lando. They want to see the driver who almost took P1 in Suzuka."
"No," he corrected, turning his chair slightly so you were forced to look at him. "They want to see the person who makes me actually smile when I’m not in a car. Come on. Don't be shy."
He reached out, his hand guiding yours toward the webcam. With a deep breath, you leaned into the frame. The 'Live' light flickered. Three thousand viewers jumped to five thousand, then ten, then twenty. The chat started moving so quickly it was a blur of neon text and frantic emotes.
‘IS THAT HER?!’
‘LANDO! YOU ACTUALLY DID IT!’
‘Wait, she’s literally glowing. How is she this pretty?’
‘Move over, Lando, we want her to stream!’
Lando chuckled, leaning back and crossing his arms, looking at the screen with a smug grin. "See? I told you."
He hadn't realized, however, the monster he was about to unleash.
The first month of your "stream appearances" was meant to be a gimmick—a way for Lando to humanize himself, to show the fans that he wasn't just a pilot of a multi-million dollar machine, but a guy with a normal, functioning relationship. But it turned into something else entirely.
You were naturally funny—dry, sarcastic, and completely unfazed by the professional motorsport world. You didn't fawn over his trophies or treat him like a god; you treated him like the guy who left his socks in the kitchen and forgot to buy milk.
One evening in October, during a rain-delayed weekend at COTA, Lando was struggling with a particularly difficult segment in a simulator race.
He was frustrated, his voice pitching higher as he missed a braking point for the third time.
"It’s the steering rack, I swear!" he shouted, throwing his hands up.
"It’s not the steering rack, Lando," you said, walking into the frame with a bowl of popcorn. You didn't even look at the screen as you pulled up a guest stool. "You’re just not trail-braking enough into turn twelve. You’re being too aggressive with the release."
The chat went silent for a microsecond before exploding.
‘SHE’S LITERALLY COACHING HIM.’
‘Lando, she looks bored. She’s better than you.’
‘Marry her already so we can keep her.’
‘Petition to make her the main driver.’
Lando stared at the chat, his mouth slightly agape. He looked at you, then back at the screen. "You’re not serious. You’ve never driven a real car on a track in your life."
"Doesn't mean I don't know how the physics work, darling," you replied, picking a piece of popcorn from the bowl and popping it into your mouth. "Try it again. Less throttle, more patience."
He did. He nailed the corner. The chat went wild, and for the next three hours, Lando became a side character in his own stream.
As the weeks turned into months, the shift in dynamic became impossible to ignore. Whenever you walked into the room, the view count climbed.
Whenever Lando tried to talk about race strategy, the chat begged him to ask his opinion on a book you were reading or what you thought about his—often questionable—fashion choices.
"They're turning on me," Lando complained one night, though his eyes were crinkled at the corners, betraying his amusement. He was lying on the sofa in the living room, his head resting on your lap while you scrolled through your phone.
"They aren't turning on you, Lando," you said, running your fingers through his hair. "They just realized that you’re a gremlin and I’m a breath of fresh air."
"I am not a gremlin," he feigned indignation.
"You literally ate cereal with a fork today because you couldn't find a spoon."
He laughed, the sound muffled against your jeans. "I was tired! And you’re the one who keeps misplacing the cutlery."
"I don't misplace it. You ignore it."
He sat up, looking at you with a seriousness that made your breath catch. The soft overhead light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the exhaustion he tried so hard to hide from the world.
"I love that they love you," he whispered. "I was worried, you know. About the fans. They can be… intense."
"They're fine," you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. "They just want you to be happy. And I think they’ve figured out that you’re happiest when I’m around, even if it’s just to roast you for your lack of basic culinary skills."
"They don't just love me, though," he teased, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Half the comments on my last post were: 'Tell her to drop the driver, we’ll start our own team for her.'"
"Maybe I will," you joked. "You’re getting a bit slow in your old age anyway."
He pulled you into a kiss, soft and grounding, the kind that reminded you that no matter how many thousands of people were watching, or how many sponsors were waiting for his attention, in this room, it was just the two of you.
The breaking point—or rather, the turning point—happened during the winter break. Lando had decided to do a charity stream. He’d invited a few fellow drivers, but most of them had dropped out due to travel conflicts.
It was essentially a "Lando and his girlfriend" event.
Within the first hour, the chat was relentless.
‘Lando, move over, we want a better view of her sweater.’
‘Can she tell us the story about the time Lando tried to make pasta?’
‘Lando, just give her the mouse and keyboard and go make us some tea.’
Lando finally pushed his chair back, standing up and holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay, that’s it. You all have replaced me. I am officially the assistant. She is the streamer now."
He walked away from the camera, leaving you sitting in his chair. You stared at the lens, momentarily stunned. "Lando? Don't leave me here, what do I even do?"
He just poked his head back in, blowing a kiss at you before disappearing into the kitchen.
You were left alone with the digital audience. You looked at the chat, reading the names of people who had been following since the very beginning of his career.
You started talking, not about racing, but about the things that actually occupied your time—the books you were reading, the music you were obsessing over, the little anecdotes about the chaos of life in Monaco.
You were magnetic. You were funny, you were composed, and you lacked the guarded, PR-trained polish of a modern athlete. You were real.
When Lando eventually returned with two cups of tea, he stopped in the doorway. He didn't interrupt. He watched you for five minutes, listening to you handle the chat with a grace he had spent years trying to cultivate but rarely achieved.
He saw the way you joked with the moderators, the way you handled the inevitable trolls with a sharp wit that left them speechless, and the way the entire atmosphere of the room seemed to lift because you were there.
He felt a surge of pride so intense it actually made his chest ache. He wasn't threatened; he felt lucky. He realized then that he hadn't just introduced his fans to his girlfriend; he had allowed them to catch a glimpse of the version of himself that he only ever showed when he was with you.
He walked over and set the tea down, leaning over your shoulder to read the screen.
"They like me better than you, don't they?" he whispered into your ear, his voice barely audible over the hum of the cooling fans.
You looked up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, definitely. Sorry, darling. Looks like you’re just the guy who brings me tea now."
‘SHE’S RIGHT!’ the chat scrolled, moving faster than ever. ‘ALL HAIL THE QUEEN OF MONACO!’
Lando laughed, a genuine, unburdened sound that reached his eyes. He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, settling into the smaller stool beside you, content to let you lead.
"You know," he murmured, watching the screen as your names scrolled by in tandem, "as long as I get to be the one who goes to sleep next to you, they can have the stream."
You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his under the desk, out of sight of the camera, but right where it mattered. "Deal."
In the digital world, the numbers continued to climb. Thousands of people watched, not for the racing, not for the speed, but for the quiet, beautiful reality of two people who had found a small, perfect corner of the world amidst the roar of engines and the flash of cameras.
And for the first time, Lando Norris didn't mind being the second most interesting person in the room. In fact, he had never been happier. . . .
Warning: Crying, mention of blood, mention of death, dealing with a Vecta, mention of a different life, memory erasure, no mention of gender.
Character: Eddie Munson x reader, Henry Creel x reader.
Part 1: Let Him Live.
Let him live.
Part 1 of ...
You were sitting on the ground, crying over Eddie's dying body. He was breathing with difficulty; the wounds those things had inflicted were slowly killing him.
Dustin had run away, leaving you both on the other side. You had yelled at him to leave and get help, but he was taking too long.
"Please, please, please, don't leave me, Eddie, please," you screamed as you saw Eddie's breathing slow even more.
"Go...go," he said, coughing up blood. You couldn't even see Eddie clearly anymore because of the tears streaming down your cheeks, mingling with his blood.
"No...no...no, please...Dustin," you screamed desperately for help. Eddie was dying in your arms, and you couldn't do anything. "Dustin isn't coming," a male voice made you turn around quickly. There in front of you was a blond boy, looking at you intently.
"Hen... Henry," you whispered, frightened, placing yourself in front of your boyfriend's body.
"I'll help you," he said, walking towards you. You looked around for a weapon, grabbing a rock ready to defend your boyfriend, when a force jolted you to your feet.
"I wouldn't do that," Henry said, his hand in the air. The air in your lungs slowly began to leave your lungs. "I'll help you with the boy," the boy in front of you said, letting go of you. You fell to your knees, coughing with difficulty.
"You'll... save Ed... Eddie," you said with difficulty.
"I will," Henry said, amused. You swallowed hard. "But what will you do for me?"
"Anything, I'll give you whatever you want, but help me," you begged, crying, for the boy's help.
Henry looked at you with a satisfied smile, walking over to the boy whose eyes were already closed.
He placed a hand on his chest,You watched in amazement as his wounds began to disappear.
Your eyes widened when Eddie's eyes snapped open, his mouth opening to take a long breath.
"Eddie!" you cried, running to his side. You took Eddie's face in your hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. He smiled, cupping your cheeks.
"It's time," Henry's voice made you glare at him. The boy offered you his hand, but Eddie, seeing this, tried to stop you.
Weakened, he couldn't do anything as you started walking toward Henry.
"No... no!" Eddie cried, desperately trying to grab your hand, but he couldn't.
"It's a deal," Henry said with a smile. You nodded, taking his hand.
"Wait!" Eddie's desperate cry echoed behind you, but you ignored him.
You kept walking with Henry, who began to transform from his human form into the monster everyone knew. A portal opened in front of you both.
You walked hand in hand with him, stepping through the portal, ignoring Eddie's desperate cries.
As you crossed the threshold, you saw Henry's house, but instead of being abandoned, it was a beautiful home.
The sun shone brightly in a blue sky, dotted with clouds—a truly beautiful sky.
"Welcome to your new home," Henry said, touching your temple. Your eyes changed color, turning white and then returning to their natural hue.
Your previous memories blurred with a thick fog, quickly transforming into memories you'd never experienced.
When you turned around, a very handsome blond boy was looking at you with a sweet smile.
"Are you okay, darling?" the boy asked gently, taking your hand. You smiled, squeezing his hand tightly.
"Of course, darling," you said affectionately to your now-husband. A gold ring gleamed in the sunlight. You both went inside the house, smiling.
What you didn't know was who Henry or Vecna were; you only knew that he was your husband and that you both lived happily in your beautiful home.
