Pico & Bf x reader oneshots

 corrupted Pico x reader

HAHA IM SORRY BUT I HAD TO WRITE SOME ANGST.
Btw, the reader is gender neutral, so anyones welcomed here!
Aight onto the shit
Quick warning, this is long as hell..

"Hey sweet cakes, you see good up there?"
He held onto your thighs around his neck, as you nodded.
You and Pico decided to go to one of Keith's rap battles, this time it was at a mall and a shit ton of people were here.
You were pretty short compared most people, so Pico lifted you up to get a better view.
"Yeah! Ah! Look! Keith is about to play. Supposed to be some mystery guest"
"Hope its not sum fuckin fan girl, man I feel bad when Keith has to let them down easy"
"Haha! Yeah remember that one gi-"
You froze...
It was there..
The crowd was silent.
That thing is fucking scary. Terrifying actually.
It had a lemon for a head, with raw flesh on its neck connecting to a pitch black body, with only two fingers and two toes. Its eyes wide open and bloodshot. Its teeth stained with blood.
"Pico... I have a really bad feeling about this.."
He can feel your leg start to shake, and your breathing elevate.
"N/N Its alright, you know I got you, if anything happens I got my gun Aight?"
You always did feel safe with him.
You figured the thing was just scaring you, so you tried to relax.
The song begun.
He sung about grotesque things, and his voice crawled around your head and skin.
You can tell cherry was uncomfortable, but tried to keep the smile on her face.
Keith was sweating bullets, he was able to keep up fairly well, but stammered when he let his fear get the best of him.
Pico held onto you tightly rubbing his thumb against your thighs, and leaning his head against your chest, reassuring you.
The song ended, and that next few moments happened extremely fast.
He dashed towards Cherry slashing her in the leg. She let out a terrified sob, and fell to the floor from the speakers. A black goop crawling up her body, causing everything including her clothes to turn a pitch black.
Pico let you go and quickly pulled out his uzi from his pants. He then stood in front of you shielding you from the crowd, and what ever that thing was.
"SHIT YOU GOTTA GO Y/N"
"What?! No! Dude please! Please dont leave me!
Wh-what if-!"
"Y/N. YOU GOTTA GO. NOW. RUN TO THE APARTMENT, I PROMISE ILL BE THERE"
You started to sob as all you can hear is screaming, stomping, and gunshots.
You made it back to the apartment, and cried...and cried...and cried, curling into a ball on the bed.
You were practically screaming.
You felt like you lost him
You probably did..
But he was strong! He survived a school shooting at 14...14 years old!

9 hours have gone by, it was already 6am and he was still not back.
Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Your face, throat, and stomach were all sore. Your face was stiff and stained with dried tears. You were numb.
Out of pure exhaustion and the little hope you had left, you texted him.

You:
Pico? Where are you?
Please text me back as soon as possible,
im worried..

You sobbed one more time befor sliping into a deep sleep onto a bed that felt empty without Your favorite Ginger.

You woke up to complete silence.
No cars running
No honking
No chatter
No clicking of peoples shoes.
Nothing.
It was incredibly off putting, there was always noise, so loud that it took you weeks to get used to it.
The silence was even louder though, your ears ringing loudly causing a headache.
You groggily look at your phone to see that it was 2pm.
Worry came at you like a giant wave seeing that he never responded to your text.
Not like him at all...he was pretty clingy, replying to a text or a call almost immediately, no matter how busy he was, always telling you about his whereabouts.
You decided to give him a call.
Ringgg
......
Ringgggg
......
"Pico... please..."
You didn't realize how damaged your voice was until now. It felt like someone just clawed at your vocal cords.
Ringgggg....
......
"Please leave a message to-"
You hung up.
Fuck...
You stuffed your phone in the pocket of you shorts, and headed to living room.
You usually get a snack or something when you wake up, but this time you didn't feel like eating.
You slumped onto the couch and turned on the tv, turning it to the news, hoping for any information.
Nothing..all that showed was a screan that read
"[insert iv station name here] is offline, sorry for the inconvenience."
Your mind replayed that incident like a broken record.