#but then i was like it’s okay 6 hours sleep is decent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theorphicangel · 22 days

Text

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @palesatan @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne @strawberryjuice9 @beezusvreeland @faretheeoscar @lunablackcosplay @t4naiis @peachey-pie @mcmiracles @hardlystrictlystarwars @migueloharastruelove @fruityfucker @kingtwhiddleston

series

previous chapter | next chapter

Chapter 5: Crime and Punishment

Miguel would be lying if he said that he’s been able to sleep well lately.

He’s been lucky to get any sleep at all.

He’s managed to fit into the college lifestyle pretty decently. He’s set up a routine that he follows religiously: Wake up, work out, coffee, read up on pre-lecture notes, lectures, eat, work shift, lab work, eat, study, read up on his post-lecture notes, sleep and repeat.

That's all he can do here. Ever since he’s arrived onto campus he’s been successful in maintaining a bubble away from…all of that shit going on at home. It’s been a pretty useful distraction.

But…something that he can’t consciously admit to himself, is that being in a bubble means leaving everything that’s going on at home on a backburner.

Miguel stares up at his ceiling from his bed, his hands behind his head, resting on his pillow. If he stares for long enough then he can just about match up patterns from the wall paint and if he stares for even longer than that, then they start to slowly move. He’s been awake for a few hours now, only managing to make it to around 3am before waking up or rather jolting awake. But he’s used to early mornings. Always was.

Unexpectedly, his phone begins to vibrate on his bedside table. He frowns, his alarm isn’t due to go off for five more minutes. Leaning onto his side, he peers over at whomever is calling him at this hour. His screen brightens up with the caller ID.

‘Gabriel is calling….’

Miguel stares at the phone for what seems like forever until it stops ringing.

A minute later, just when he thought he was in the clear, text messages began to come through. One right after the other.

Gabriel: (sent 6:56am)

- I know you’re awake mig’

- Look, if you’re not going to answer, fair enough, but you’re going have to face it and communicate with us one day.

(sent 6:57am)

- Just talk to mamá por favor. If not now then it’ll be worse at thanksgiving.

- Trust me.

Miguel places the phone down after reading the messages from his home screen. He chews on his bottom lip, a mix of emotions beginning to grow in his gut. He’s not sure what they are exactly but they seem to make up the familiar combination of anxiety, guilt and fear. He curses to himself under his breath, rubbing his hands across his face.

‘Por dios, you’re so pathetic. Tonto, what are you doing?’ [fool]

He can’t help but reflect on his avoidant behavior, he knows what he’s doing but he just can’t seem to muster up the courage to face his problems. He knows that going to college is essentially him avoiding his problems and he knows that he’s in the wrong for leaving his brother to try and pick up the pieces despite Miguel supposing to be the older sibling.

Falling back into his avoidant behavior Miguel pushes his thoughts away with a sigh and forcefully drags his limbs out of bed.

He’s about to head to the bathroom to brush his teeth when another text comes through from Gabriel.

And this one is impossible to ignore.

Gabriel: (sent 6:01am)

- ‘Also…why is your car for sale on Craigslist?’

- ‘For 69 bucks?’

Miguel: (sent 6:01am)

-What?’

“Girl, are you okay?”

MJ’s voice snaps you back out from reality and you stumble over your words in giving a reply.

“What? Oh, uh– yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

It was an obvious lie, but MJ doesn’t get paid enough to deep dive into your problems and judging by your body language you’d rather she not say anything at all anyways.

Telling your mother – or rather — lying to your mother that you had a boyfriend has to be one of the stupidest things that you have ever done. And trust me, you have done many stupid things.

But where the fuck were you going to get a boyfriend? And most importantly, who?

Lyla had suggested Peter at first and you had too but that was before you realized that he had an ever-growing crush on MJ. And like I said, you don’t get paid enough to care but you’re pretty sure that she likes him back. Now more than ever, you’ve been noticing them together, often third wheel to their awkward but cute interactions together. He’s nervous and chatty but she’s a good listener and you figure that they balance each other out.

Now only if you could find someone like that. Someone that your mom would believe that you’re dating. Maybe you should ask Peter if he has any friends who are available. Maybe you could–

Your thoughts are disrupted by the sound of MJ calling your name. You glance over to the counter to where she’s serving a customer and by the looks of it…it’s a very well-known customer.

“Someone wants to see you.”

As she tells you so, you can’t help but notice her tone indicating a tone of flirtation between you and this particular customer but once you see the look on his face, you know that it will never get to that point.

Miguel is the one standing by the counter and a chill runs down your spine when you meet his eyes. He’s staring at you, unblinking, with his jaw forcibly clenched.

Shit, you think, he definitely knows by now.

“Uh, sure.” You say, putting down the towel that you were currently wringing with your hands. As you make your way around the counter you try your best not to look nervous as you approach him.

“Outside.” He murmurs, his tone and face grave.

You follow him without a single word, a hole of anxiety opening up in the pit of your stomach.

The two of you make it outside, the bitter October air nipping at your bare arms. Wrong day to wear a short sleeved shirt, you think to yourself, attempting to distract your mind from the tension of the conversation that you’re about to have. You can feel your cheeks begin to go cold and you cross your arms in a failed attempt to maintain your warmth.

“What the fuck is this?” Miguel shows you his phone screen.

You could tell he was seething, despite him seeming to maintain his calm externally. His phone screen is open on a website browser illustrating an advert for a car and you recognise that it’s his car.

It was your advert.

You squint your eyes, pretending like you’ve never seen it before. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Don’t keep up the bullshit. I know it was you. Who else would do this shit to me for revenge?”

You shug, attempting to seem nonchalant. “Maybe you have a lot of enemies out there Miguel, especially with the way that you treat people.”

Miguel frowns, a crease appearing between his brows. He opens his mouth to speak yet you manage to beat him to it.

“How’d you even know that was me? It’s not nice to throw accusations around y’know?”

Miguel snorts. “And you know what else is not fucking nice? Selling other people’s cars!”

At the sound of his raised voice, you look around to see if there was anyone approaching. It was early morning, the morning lecture coffee rush awaited you in just fifteen minutes. By then you had to get rid of Miguel.

You were infuriating him by the second, it was beginning to grow clear that your innocent trick was not working. That deep pit of anxiety in your stomach began to grow larger and larger, your palms getting sweaty in the process.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have done it if you were a little nicer to people and if you hadn’t posted that review.”

“Oh, so it was you?”

Shit.

Miguel continues on. “It’s illegal to sell other people’s property without permission, you know that right?”

“Of course I do.” you lied. You stammer for a few seconds, searching for an excuse. “You nearly made me lose my job for fuck’s sake.”

“You didn’t lose it.”

“Nearly!”

“But you’re still here aren’t you?”

You groan aloud, not believing the words that are coming out of his mouth. “You’re acting like such a jerk!”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

You cross your arms. “You don’t even have proof that it was me. That’s not my email account.”

He clicks his tongue. “Quit the lying, it doesn’t look good on you. Plus, Peter told me you were looking for my car.”

Remember earlier when you said that lying to your mother about having a boyfriend was the stupidest thing that you had done? Yeah, well scratch that.

“You could get criminally charged for this, do you realize that? Attempted theft or whatnot. And then not only would you lose your job but it’d get you suspended from the university too.”

Your face falls. “I wasn’t actually going to sell it–”

“But it seems like you didn’t think about that did you?” His tone was venomous, sharp enough to cause physical pain to you.. You can’t help but feel as if he was getting some sort of pleasure out of this, out of threatening you. “Not so smart are you? I’m almost glad that I caught you, if Peter didn’t tell me–”

“If you’re going to go to the cops then I’ll take full blame.” You interrupt. “Peter had nothing to do with this.”

Miguel raises a brow. “I didn’t think you’d take full responsibility.”

“Yeah, well I don’t like to do bad things to innocent people.” you spat.

“Innocent?” He repeats. “Wow, tienes sentido del humor.” [ ‘you’re quite the comedian’ / you have a sense of humor’]

You bite down on your lip. “I'll take it down but you promise not to drag Peter into this?”

Miguel nods. “You have till the end of the day to take it down.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“You won’t call the cops on me?”

He shrugs. “I can’t promise that I won’t and–” Miguel points a finger at you to stop your interruption. “There’s nothing that you can say that would change my mind if I do.”

Your shoulders defleat. Great. You’ve just somehow managed to make your life a living hell all for the satisfaction of revenge.

“Oh.” He turns around to face you. “And for your information, I deleted the review ages ago.”

It takes a few seconds for his words to sink in.

Oh great.

“You fucking–”

“What? Bastard? Jerk? Go ahead, call me all of the names you want, nena. Don’t you think that you’ve done enough damage for once?”

Ouch. You’re not even sure how to respond to his last comment.

You remain silent as you stand on the curb watching Miguel leave, your fists are curled up by your sides. Your nails dig into your palms until it hurts, trying to distract your mind from the full tsunami of anxiety that paralyzes your body.

What the fuck do you do now?

You don’t think that your life could get any worse than this. Not by a mile. In less than 48 hours you’ve managed to be not only a liar but a criminal.

As you step into the cafe there might as well be a visible gray cloud over your head. MJ knows not to ask any questions as you return back to your station. She gives you a longing look, wordlessly asking if you were okay. Ignoring it, you keep your head down, trying to bite back your tears until the end of the shift.

‘Keep it in until the end of your shift.’ you told yourself. ‘Keep it all in.’

You: still nil*

Miguel: 2

*[point redacted due to illegal activity]

leave a comment to lmk if you would like to join the taglist!

#angel writes #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv miguel #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel spiderman #miguel 2099 #miguel o'hara #under no circumstances fic #miguel x you #miguel o’hara #miguel x reader fluff

117 notes · View notes

raineandsky · 5 months

Text

The Villain's Housekeeper

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11)

tw death mention

The courtesy the villain has decided to show the hero has been incredibly weird. A relief, of course, but weird.

They avoid the hero most days now. The time they used to spend watching the hero break their back for them is now spent as far away from the hero as humanly possible. The hero kind of understands, though—since their damning little slip up in the bedroom last week, the villain’s demanded they stop doing the chores until their arm is better. There isn’t much to watch anymore.

And when the villain disappears out the front door for the night, it’s always with the same instruction now: “get a decent night’s sleep, don’t lie on your arm, and for the love of god don’t make it worse.”

No chores to be done in their absence. No rules. Just… rest. Get better. It’s a breath of fresh air.

Anyway, the lack of random work to do gives them more time to snoop. Okay, so it’s not no rules, but one very easily breakable rule. A rule they couldn’t care less about breaking—snapping clean in half, if they can. The agency taught them how to pry and leave no trace. This is the easiest, most rewarding part of their stay here. It's more of a routine than anything now, trekking through their notes.

The villain’s office is a mess, to put it lightly. It makes it just that little bit harder to restore when they’re done, but it doesn’t matter too much—they get information. A list of missing villains, heroes on hit lists, plans. Plans to infiltrate and extort and seduce and kill. God, everything the agency’s ever wanted is in here. The hero commits it all to memory, and by the time the villain gets home they’re already asleep on the sofa downstairs.

The villain always comes back in the early hours of the morning, and today is no different. The only difference is that the front door batters against the opposite wall and the villain staggers rather loudly into the kitchen.

The hero is up in an instant, sleep torn from them abruptly. They trail after the villain, glancing instinctively to the floor for blood, but the tile is clean. The villain sinks into a kitchen chair like it’s the last thing they’re ever going to do.

“[Villain]...?” the hero says into the silence. The villain barely responds, their gaze burning into the table as they lean their face against their palms, their elbows propped up on the table.

“We’re dying,” the villain says flatly. “We’re dropping like flies, and [Supervillain] is still trying to send us all to our deaths to save herself.”

It’s not hard to feign surprise; this wasn’t mentioned in any of the paperwork the hero’s seen. They pull a chair out and settle opposite them. “What do you mean?”

“What do I—” The villain’s tone is scathing for a moment, but they bite back the end of their sentence with a sigh. “Heroes are killing us. I’ve found more than one person face-down in some back alley. People I know—allies. Friends.”

The hero’s throat closes up for a long, long moment. “I– I’m sorry,” they say testily, but they come out as more of a choke. The villain doesn’t seem to hear them anyway.

“Every so often [Supervillain] sends a new batch of villains into the thick of it, to try and take down some of the heroes wiping us out. Those who do survive are few and far between, usually screwed up beyond repair. And [Supervillain]— she’s—”

The villain sucks in a shuddery breath. The hero waits patiently.

“[Supervillain]’s chosen her next round of sacrifices,” the villain says with a breath of a humourless laugh, and a knot twists in the hero’s stomach. The villain fixes them with an empty stare, and the hero shoves down the urge to glance away. “I’m one of them. I’m— I’m being sent to die.”

Perfect, some part of the hero’s mind murmurs. A safe haven, all to yourself.

But despite everything, the villain’s been kind to them. Even though they humiliated them and forced their hand, the hero’s not in the claws of the superhero yet because of them. And they’re going to die. The villain’s going to leave one day, and they won’t come back. The hero’s brain almost can’t wrap around it.

“She— I’ll be setting off… for good next Thursday.” The villain’s face morphs into hopelessness.

It’s Tuesday now. Nine days.

The villain clears their throat, though it doesn’t seem to dislodge the anxious rasp residing there. “I, uh— I’m sorry,” they say unexpectedly. “For being a villain, for making you dance for my entertainment to stay alive, for— god, for everything. I’m sorry, [Hero].”

The hero can only blink at them for a moment. Sorry? “That’s, uh… it’s okay,” the hero says dumbly after a moment.

“No, it’s not. The least I can do is fix what I can before I… y’know.” The villain’s eyes lock onto the hero’s so intensely that they can’t find it in themself to look away this time. “I’m so sorry.”

You saved my life. You let me stay here. You let me hide from your enemy. You let me hide from mine. You ignored the benefits of turning me out for what? Companionship? Necessity? Something else entirely?

The hero can’t say that to their nemesis. The villain already sounds insane saying all this. They don’t need to feed into the absurdity of the evening. So they simply force a smile, of sorts, onto their face, and say, “I forgive you.”

(next part)

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #the villains housekeeper #tw death mention #can. can you guess when the next part is gonna be >:)#if you wanna skip for the triggers but still wanna follow along lemme knowww #i can give you a rundown of parts sans trigger if you wanna keep up with the series :) dont want anyone missin out!!

127 notes · View notes

blackroseguzzi · 1 month

Text

FATE part 6

summery: Colin reminds himself of the reasons he knew you were the girl for him while also becoming increasingly stressed over this case.

Colin’s POV

I parked my cruiser in back of the station, letting it idle as thoughts ran through my head. I was now the lead investigator on Erin’s case now that Mare was on leave, and I don’t want to fuck this up. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, my body wanted to turn out of the lot and just keeping driving away from this town, just like she had. This case. Fuck, The situation in yet I tangled myself in yet again with her. I knew by Friday this week that my heart was going to be blasted into a million pieces but maybe I was a glutton for punishment. She’s addicting, I am so drawn to her as if she’s a magnetic field. I had always been sucked into her vortex since the first time I ran into her at that coffee shop. She was always effortlessly beautiful, especially the way her eyes squinted up when she smiled. My mind slowly drifts to a memory of her in the days I knew I was going to marry her.

My alarm had gone off, I had to work that whole weekend and snuck in just a few hours of sleep. I remember the way the sunlight cast over her body that lay tangled in our sheets. I had come home that evening to her unpacking her work bag on the counter, her hair in that messy bun I loved so much. I had snuck into the kitchen and wrapped my arms around her waist, feeling her jolt into awareness of my body now pressed against her back.

“What are you doing home this early?” She turned around, pressing her hands on either side of my face, bringing it down for a quick peck on the lips. Her soft lips always plagued my nightmares after she left. Those kisses lingered on my lips as I woke up and realized that she wasn’t there, that she didn’t love me anymore.

“I pulled a few strings, and I got an interview set up in the mornin’ with a witness. So I got out at a decent hour, but I gotta be outta the house early in the mornin tomorrow.”

Her face fell, knowing we wouldn’t get to spend some time together before another work week resurfaced. I hated that she missed me, even thought I wasn’t gone. I realized after she left that I asked her to be extremely patient when it came to my work hours. She never complained due to the nature of the work I did, but her face usually had the hint of disappointment in it when I explained how many hours I’d have to clock in each week.

“Hey, I’ll make it up to you. I have a few days off for Christmas. Okay?” I sprinkled more kisses on her cheek and felt her wrap her hands around my body and sigh.  “We have forever together, I know you’re working hard to find that missing kid.” I hated that you turned away in that moment, returning to getting your things out of the overnight bag and organized.

Your voice rang through the kitchen as I started to loosen the tie on my shirt, ready to unwind. “What do you want for dinner?”

“You know, Pizza sounds great but I have this craving. It’s been on my mind all frrrrreakkkinggg week.”

You had turned to me, your eyebrows pointed together quizzically.

“And what might that craving be, Mr. Zabel?”

“Well, Ms. Y/l/n, Its something I daydream about often. Spread out on the kitchen table, ready for me to savor every last bite.”

Her eyes wandered across my face, and as our eyes met, I knew she had caught on to the kind of craving I was looking to fulfill.

“Oh, you daydream about this craving often, huh?” A little teasing grin emerged from her face.

I smirked and let out a small chuckle as she started to undo the buttons of my dress shirt.

“Yeah, now we’re cookin’ with fire baby,” I growled, reaching down to cup her ass in those black buttery soft yoga pants I loved her in. The first kiss tasted like candy, and just got more and more delicious as they came. I could feel the heat in between her legs as she pushed me into our dining room with her hips as our tongues still danced together.

“Shit,” She breathed out as I felt her fumble slightly as I tugged at her sweatshirt. We broke apart so I could peel it over her head, making her bun flip to the other side of her head, and stray hairs falling around her forehead. Nobody ever looked that good in a messy bun.

I let out a small moan as her hands worked quickly to unhook her lace pink bra. Her breasts tumbled out of the cups with ease, and my hands couldn’t contain themselves. I reached up to her chest and feverishly messaged, and delicately twirled her nipples. When she bit my lip, man that’s when it was all over.

“You always crave dessert before dinner?” She whispered in that low raspy voice I only ever heard in the bedroom.  As my hands worked her chest and my mouth occupied the crook of her neck, I could feel that ache in my groin when she started to tug away my belt and unbutton my pants.

She watched as I pulled my pants down, left in boxers. I started to pull my undershirt off when I heard her giggle at the fact my socks had in fact not matched.

I smiled at her, and she pushed a large pile of her papers off the dining table and onto the floor in a hurry.

“I’m going to fucking ravish you, baby.”

She shook her head as she pushed me away from her playfully.

“No sweetie, I get the first taste,” She moved my body as if I was a puppet, placing me laying down on the dining room table - bare assed with my cock straight up waiting for you.

I loved watching her give me head, the way her eyes rolled in the back of her head and her hands gripping my thighs. I let out a deep moan, letting her know the pleasure was going to be short lived if she keeps on using her tongue that way.

She licks the full length of my penis before climbing up on the table, straddling me from above. I pulled my hands to cup her ass again, squeezing her thick soft cheeks as she kisses me. “My turn,” I whispered as we quickly and gracefully rolled into switched positions on the table. Her perfect body now laying down, legs spread as if inviting me in. I felt her breath hitch as I guided myself inside of her. Fuck I will never forget that feeling. That tight squeeze, wet and so fucking warm. I whispered that I loved her, loved her body, loved everything about her as I thrusted my dick inside of her. She was not a quiet girl, but she was reserved and laid back for the most part, but man in the bedroom she was an animal. It surprised me at first, and then once I realized it was exactly what I needed that addiction was intoxicating. I don’t think any girl could ever make me feel half as good as she did.

Her quiet voice pulled me from my drunken pleasure, “I’m gonna cum, Colin.” Her hands found mine and we slowed our intensity. I loved the way her neck and face flushed a perfect pink color as we edged ourselves to completion.

“That’s it baby,” I whispered in between thick breaths as she road out her orgasm- just watching her face scrunch with pleasure pushed me over the edge and I spilled myself inside of her. God, I was done for. She was my forever, it was Fate that brought is together the same coffee spot the day we met.

I closed my eyes, reliving that memory a small smile on my lips when suddenly a knock was at my window.

“We gotta talk Zabel, “ Mare’s harsh voice was muffled by the car window between us.

I turned off the car, taking a deep breath before opening the door.

I was surprised to see her here after getting kicked off the case for some reason I wasn’t able to have as knowledge. “What‘a going on? I thought you were on leave?” I questioned her. Her permanent frown was deeper than normal today. It gave me a slight anxious feeling.

“Why are you talkin’ with Deacon Mark?”

Of course she was here to talk the case, but I knew the shit I’d be in if I continued to let her in on what was going on in the investigation.

“I’d love to chat but this doesn’t really concern you anymore, Mare. we got it handled. Promise.” I placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her nerves, but she shrugged it off.

“ No, it concerns me because I need to find out if there’s a connection with Erin’s case and Katy’s.”

Her tough exterior was something I wasn’t used to. She had only shown me a softer side once or twice, but learning a bit about her past I understand why the guard was ALWAYS up.

“Look, Mare…”

“Shove it, Zabel. You’re talkin’ to a fucking reporter but ya won’t talk to me?”

I gave her a confused look, not understand why she would bring that up- but something was fishy.

“Wait how did you know I was investigating Deacon Mark?”

Mare signed, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

“An unknown source saw ya talking.” She replied.

I wanted to push it further but I had work to do and she was making me late. I know she wanted information but i just couldn’t risk it.

“Sorry Mare, you’re not on the Case.” I started to walk away when I heard a mumbled out of her.

It sounded a lot like “ Well have fun on your date tonight.” But I didn’t want to push it, because there was no way she knew I was going to dinner with you tonight, or was there?

#evan peters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters imagine #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x reader #colin zabel mare of easttown #colin zabel smut #colin zabel #colin zabel x you #colin zabel x reader #colin zabel fanfiction #Colin #colin zabel mare of east town #mare of easttown

40 notes · View notes

homunculus-argument · 5 months

Note

Okay shit, now I'm invested in this whole low-effort-nice-curly-hair thing, SO!

I have thin, sparse hair that I've repeatedly ruined for years by dyeing it red. Then the pandemic hit and I've let it grow. It's now mostly my natural color with the lower quarter an off-reddish-gold, which is also the part that holds the curl best. I put it in a twisty bun before bed and in the morning brush it out and it holds almost the entire day. This is as low-effort as I think is possible.

So, the tools you'll need:

1. Stretchy headband

2. Claw clip

3. (Optional) Decent hairspray

Steps:

1. Pile your hair on top of your head loosely and hold it with a claw clip.

2. Shower with steam before bed. Heat+water males the hair pliant.

3. Brush it out, gather at the nape of your neck, twist it like a rag you're wringing out, make a bun, and then twist the remaining length around the base.

4. Tie with a headband securely.

5. Sleep. Or at least lie down for 6-8 hours. You'll end up with this:

6. Take the headband out and brush out with your fingers.

7. Optional: spritz some no-residue hairspray and enjoy your curls.

It seems like a lot of steps at first but it doesn't take a full minute on either end after like, the third try.

Better yet, if you twist it the same way every day your hair holds the curl longer.

Hope it helps!

Those look absolutely gorgeous, professionally made, but I'm having a hard time figuring out how to do that to achieve natural-looking curly hair to hair that's too short to get on a ponytail. Like barely-covers-your-ears length men's haircut length.

66 notes · View notes

bigtreefest · 24 days

Text

Chapter 1: Fix Your Shoelaces

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: Two simple pleasures in life include sleep and chocolate milk. You just never thought they’d both be ruined in one weekend.

Word count: 3,862

Content/warnings: Swears, curdled milk, riding a horse, alcohol consumption, suspicion, dancing

Author’s Note: This takes place at the same time as chapters 5 and 6 of YCMBWH.

This is the first installment of The Rainmaker storyline in the Outta Nowhere AU. This is also a very different environment from where we will usually see this pairing, but that’s the fun in it.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Outta Nowhere AU | Series Masterlist | Next >

You were awoken from your deep sleep to someone pounding on your door. As you put on your robe and shuffled through the living room, you caught a glance at the clock on the stove. 10:43pm. Who in their right mind would be at your door this late? A better question: why were you on your way to answer it? You didn’t even answer calls from unknown numbers.

You opened the door and immediately squinted at the bright fluorescent light of the hallway as it hit you in the face. Standing there in a full suit was a man with tall, broad shoulders and kind blue eyes under a tuft of blonde hair you assumed had lost its styling from a long day. If you asked your best friend, her evaluation would be ‘totally your type.’ He was a gorgeous, pretty boy….yeah….pretty seemed like a fitting description. Good looks or not, though, he woke you up hardly two hours into your sleep schedule.

“What do you want?”

“Um, good evening. You’re…” he looked down at a sticky note in his hand. “…Decks, right? I’m here to talk to you about a matter concerning Honeybee-I mean-“

You cut him off, grabbing his arm to drag the handsome man into your apartment and out of the hallway so you wouldn’t get another noise complaint from the old lady next door. Although, it was probably already too late for that since he had been banging on your door for who knows how long. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me. I know what you’re talking about, come in.”

Steve gently closed the door behind him as you moved to turn on a lamp by the couch. You flopped down in an arm chair while he perched himself on the couch cushion closest to you. Even with your messy hair in the dim light, there was something intriguing about you to him.

You leaned back and squinted at him. “So what’s going on? Are you Bucket? I’ve been told about you.”

Steve straightened in his seat. Bucky was going to love that he was the topic of one of Bee’s conversations outside the farm.

He smiled and shook his head. “No, actually. I’m Steve. I work very closely with Bucky, though. I was sent here to take you over to the farm. There’s been an emergency and we need all the closest people there to help out.”

You looked at him skeptically. “Why didn’t anyone call first? Why were you sent here?”

“Well, from what I’ve heard, you probably wouldn’t have picked up if I called, and time is of the essence. I can explain more on the way there.” He shrugged.

You looked at him with confusion. “Listen, I love my friend and all, and I’m willing to be there for her, but I’ve got work tomorrow. What am I supposed to do about that?”

Steve waved his hand and closed his eyes in reassurance before speaking softly. “It’s already been taken care of. Just, if you could go ahead and pack a bag, grab only essentials because we need to get going.”

You groaned. At least you’d heard of Steve before, your bestie had described him as pretty decent, and you hated that she was right, in more ways than one. You grabbed a bag off the back of your door and tossed it at Steve. “Okay, fine. Pack some snacks, it’s a long way to go at this time of night.”

He simply nodded and walked to your pantry, packing up everything that could easily be eaten on the road, along with a few bottles of water.

You emerged from your room with a duffel on your shoulder to see him waiting for you on the couch, food bag in his lap.

When Steve saw you, he was captivated. You’d changed into an old college sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair in a messy bun, but your face looked like it was ready to take on the world, despite the premature rise from sleep.

He got up and followed you to the door, turning off the lamp on the way over. As you locked your apartment, you whispered over to him. “What did you bring here? Let me see your keys.”

Steve dug into his pocket, pulling out the keychain with a jingle. “Range Rover.”

You grabbed them out of his hands. “Perfect. I’m driving.”

It had been awhile since you’d been all the way out to the farm. You used to come and help out over the summers during college, mostly baling hay and feeding animals. It was fun, but it wasn’t your life. Your degree and passion had drawn you to the city and kept you there for all these years.

You explained that to Steve on the drive over, in between the times you made him feed you the snacks. You noted that you were proud you could still drive this route by heart, too. Steve told you a little bit about how he did business in the city and how he knew Bucky, along with a story about why Bucky was out here in the first place. You had already heard the story from your roommate, so it wasn’t a surprise, but you were confused as to why they hadn’t called some sort of law enforcement to help. Something didn’t quite add up, but if someone you trusted so much trusted these men, that was good enough for now.

As you were nearing the end of the drive, Steve continued in his attempts to make conversation. “So how did you get the nickname ‘Decks?’”

You laughed dryly. “It’s a-“ you cut yourself off. “Hold on, I need to make sure I make this turn. It’s kind of hard to see at this time of night.”

You heard the wheels hit gravel as you pulled into the driveway and in front of the house, the headlights briefly lighting up Curtis leading a couple horses and tying their reins to the posts of the front porch in the darkness of the moonlit night.

Your eyes adjusted as you moved to get out of the car and watched Curtis jog over to the passenger side of the vehicle where Steve had just stood up, sticking out his hand.

“Hey, I’m Curtis, you must be Steve. Buck hasn’t left her side yet, so I’m gonna take you on back.”

Steve shook his hand “Yeah, good to meet you.”

Curtis gave him a slight nod and patted his shoulder, then ran around the other side of the vehicle to greet you by the driver’s side door. He reached his arms around your shoulders to give you a big hug with a tight squeeze. “Good to see you, Decks.”

“Yeah, you too, Curtis. Steve told me what’s going on. We should probably get back there.”

You rubbed his back before Curtis freed you from the hug and nodded in response, then looked back at Steve.

“You know how to ride?”

Steve couldn’t help the scoff that came from his lips. “Not one bit.”

Curtis sighed and looked between the two of you. “Okay, no worries. You’re with Decks, then. I’ll help you up. We’ll talk over all the details on the way there.”

Curtis led you over to the porch and helped you up onto the bigger of the two horses, then helped to prop Steve up behind you before getting onto his own horse and leading you toward the mines.

As your hips swayed back and forth with the horse’s footsteps, you could feel Steve clinging onto you for dear life. “You can ease up your grip a little, ya know. We’re not even going that fast. And you’re like, five feet off the ground. I promise you won’t get hurt.”

You could feel Steve nod in acknowledgment, his head resting against your shoulder, but nothing changed. If anything, his hold tightened. You laughed through the vice of his arms that was squeezing your diaphragm and continued on to the caves in the distance.

“So Steve told me one of the caves collapsed, and I’m not surprised because I know how old these things are, but why were you guys even back there? How did it fall so suddenly?”

You looked over at Curtis and he met your eye. “I want so badly to say it’s Bucket’s fault, but I know it’s really not. Your dear bestie insisted we go for a walk to show him the mines, and when he kicked one of the supports, the whole thing came crashing down. Could’ve happened to anyone at any time, though.”

You nodded. “Well, I’m glad she’s okay at least, but being trapped in there must suck. Either way, we’re happy to help with whatever’s needed.” Steve hummed against your shoulder in agreement.

You stopped the horses at the mouth of the cave and yawned from the early hour, stretching as Curtis helped Steve, then you, down from the horse. A man with brown hair and broad shoulders sauntered over to the three of you, greeting Steve with a hug and you and Curtis with a handshake. He wore a hard look on his face, but you could see the lace of concern through his forehead and eyes. Ah, this was Bucket.

“I’d take you guys in, but it’s sort of unstable right now. I’ve got direct orders from Honeybee, though, as to what we’re all supposed to do.”

He went through the plan, but in your tiredness, you barely caught his words. “I’ll go back over it in the morning, but the general gist is that we need to keep everything running smoothly and draw as little suspicion as possible.”

You looked between the men. None of them had caught on to one important detail. “I’ve still got Steve’s keys, but Buck, you’ve gotta tell your guys to move their cars, then. I’ve never seen that many in the driveway. People will notice. Move them into the hay barn. It should be empty enough this time of year before the next round of bales gets made. Can probably fit most of them.”

You all looked at Curtis and he nodded in agreement. “Yep, just as she said.” Bucky snapped his fingers and a young kid in a suit came running over to him, ready to take the command. What an odd interaction. You shrugged it off, though. Your brain hardly had any power at this point. It was just enough to ride back to the house and move the Range Rover into the pool barn behind the garage before flopping down into one of the guest bedrooms.

You woke up with a jolt to one of the roosters crowing. You forgot how loud those little bastards were, but something about it was comforting. You got dressed and brushed your teeth before making sure your hair was out of your face. You could smell breakfast and followed Curtis down the stairs to see Bucky making plates already.

That was surprising. As far as you knew from your conversation last week, he was struggling to get out of bed, and now he was up early enough to gather eggs and cook for everyone? Weird.

The steps creaked behind you as Steve matched them with his own groan, flopping into a chair. He wore a set of farm clothes you believe he’d borrowed from Curtis and his hair was a floofy mess. It was kind of cute, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the casual wear in juxtaposition to his suit from the night before.

Bucky pulled out a sheet of paper and explained your tasks again. You were so excited to be put on animal feed duty. You loved petting the little goats and sheep, they were so adorable.

As Bucky explained Steve’s tasks to him, you watched an almost unreadable expression grow on his face. He looked almost scared, daunted, intimidated? Maybe it was just dread? Eh, he’d probably be fine.

You finished up your plate and set it in the dishwasher before getting on with your day.

At mid-morning, you rolled up to the farmers market to help run sales with Bucky. You caught the sight of Steve carrying in his last wagon load of produce crates. His biceps bulged as he placed them all in the right places, and you couldn’t help but drool a little. Not only did he look good while being put to work, but he didn’t complain while doing it. Sure, you knew Bucky was technically his boss, but something about his willingness to help out did you in. Made you feel warm.

You watched as Bucky gave him a final set of instructions, and Steve walked back into the field. Man, did his ass look good in those jeans.

Hours passed by running the market with Bucky. You could see that a few repeat customers were happy to see him, some even trying to go in for hugs and offer him free drinks. You could see the charm you’d been told about.

As things began to slow, you found yourself standing next to Bucky, the both of you watching an older customer leave with some produce and a small jar of honey.

“Mrs. Jensen is definitely a talker. I think she needs someone else around.” He leaned towards you to say it lowly.

You laughed in response. He demeanor now was the same as when he was dealing with her, but somehow she was still so happy with their interaction.

Bucky continued. “Maybe I’ll let Jake see his mom later if he’s good.”

That caught your attention. “Wait, Jake is here? Why? Like, the Jake that broke my best friend’s heart? I thought they haven’t talked since before college.”

You could see Bucky trying to avoid eye contact with you. He was hiding something. Why would Jake be here?

“He’s done a lot lately that has made business difficult for both me and Bee. Since we are business partners after all. My people reached out and he came to apologize. Also happens he’s able to run some pretty complex calculations on his computer. He was more than happy to help out down at the mine when he heard she was in danger.”

You looked at him skeptically. “Okay…”

After you and Bucky had finished cleaning up the farmers market, you headed back to the house to relax some. You slipped off your boots and laid down on the couch, pulling a blanket up to your chin.

You were shaken awake and opened your eyes to see a pair of blue ones before you. It was Steve. He smiled.

“Hey, Decks. It’s time for dinner. You want some?” You nodded, stretching to sit up, seeing Curtis and his cousin, your best friend, bringing food to the table. You scrambled to toss the blanket off of you and ran over. You’d never hugged her so tight.

“You’re not dead! I’m so happy to see you.” Was muffled into her hair.

She laughed and rubbed your back. “It’s good to see you, too, Decks. Now let’s get some food. I’m starving.”

You nodded your head, still not letting go, as she waddled you to your chair next to Steve. He looked at the two of you, noticing you felt for each other the same way he felt for Bucky. There was a deep trust and appreciation that could rarely be matched.

As you were eating, you hardly realized Bucky wasn’t at the table until it was brought up in conversation. After a long day, and frankly, a long week, you all went upstairs and straight to bed.

You woke up to the sunshine, somehow sleeping through the roosters, probably from sheer exhaustion, and changed into your college hoodie and sweats. You walked downstairs to search through the fridge and find something decent to eat. As you were making toast, Steve came down and pulled out the pitcher of milk along with chocolate syrup.

“Ooh! Can you make me one, too? It’s been forever since I’ve had chocolate milk.”

He leaned up into the cabinet above you, abs brushing your back to grab another glass. You shivered slightly at the touch. You weren’t around people much, let alone people who looked like that.

“Sure thing, Decks, as long as you promise to make me toast.”

Your eyes narrowed, looking at him for a second. “Deal.”

After eating, you sat on the couch with Steve, sipping your chocolate milk and making small talk. He stayed vague about his everyday business dealings, and you felt like you didn’t have much to add since a lot of your work was confidential, and you didn’t have much time to do things outside of it.

You watched Bucky run down the steps and peek his head in the office before closing the door behind him.

You were about to offer to play a card game to pass the time with Steve since Curtis was due to be done any minute and could join, but there was a knock on the door.

You opened it up to see a ridiculously large vase of hydrangeas and a delivery driver already retreating back up the driveway. Oh great, what sorry guy sent these? She’s gonna hate them.

You picked up the vase to bring it inside, not expecting the sour smell that came off of it. You held it at arm’s length, fast walking to the office before knocking on the door with your foot. You held the vase in one arm to quickly open the door, showing the flowerpot, your face blocked by the large bouquet.

“Ugh! Decks, get that out of here. Where the hell did those come from?”

You ran back towards the front door, where Steve was holding it open, to set them on the porch. “Just got delivered. Don’t worry, I’ve smelled worse. There’s a card here.”

It’s true, you had smelled worse at work before, but it still didn’t mean it was very tolerable after some time. Everyone else stood back, hands covering their airways as you plucked the small piece of paper from the petals and read it out loud.

“Peach, can’t wait to milk our deal together. -Cole”

Everyone exchanged glances, disgusted by the weirdly suggestive statement, as you pulled the hydrangeas out of the vase and tossed them into the yard. You peered into the vase and gave it a sniff. In the bottom was a white goop, which you assumed had once been a liquid before a chemical reaction took place.

“He put the flowers in milk…and,” you sniffed again, “lemon juice?”

You fought a gag while you carried the vase out into the yard and did your best to get all the chunks out of it, eventually opting to spray it out with the garden hose. It still was a nice vase.

In your attempts to clean it, though, you knew some of the spoiled milk had splattered back on you and you’d need to get it off as soon as possible. So much for enjoying chocolate milk with Steve, because you were going to remember that smell for months.

You turned off the hose and grabbed the vase, stomping back into the house and slipping off your shoes.

Now frustrated with the situation, even though the mess was partially your fault, you were done. Most of it was probably due to the fact you couldn’t finish sipping the delicious beverage Steve had made for you. You shoved the vase into Steve’s chest and he cradled it with an oof.

“Finish cleaning that. And dump out my glass. I won’t be able to drink milk again for months.” You grumbled, moving towards the steps.

“Where are you going?” You heard behind you.

“To take a shower.” Your head whipped back around.

You continued to stomp up the stairs before gesturing aggressively with your arms above your head. “WHY DO GUYS ALWAYS SEND YOU WEIRD SHIT LIKE THAT!?”

You could hear Steve as you reached the bathroom. “I think I’m gonna need a shower, too, after this.”

Steve and Curtis chatted while they waited for you. “So like, what’s the deal with the trucks?”

Curtis shrugged as he opened the back door for Steve to get in, seeing you coming from the house. “Good for hauling stuff. You’re not gonna see many people out here without trucks, so it’s a good thing your fancy SUV is hidden away.”

Steve nodded, thankful you were on your way to end his awkward conversation-making skills that were not working very well on Curtis. Well, either that, or Curtis wasn’t very talkative, however, he never saw that same issue when you were around.

After a nice long, hot shower to remove the scent, you were relaxed and ready to go. Steve could smell your perfume, causing him to smile to himself.

Curtis opened the passenger door for you to hop in, and the two of you talked in the front seat on the way over as Steve sat in the back, watching and listening.

After spending hours at the bar, you were standing near the edge of the dance floor, chatting with Bee.

“So what do you think of him?” She tilted her head to gesture toward the blonde, wearing a hat that looked entirely too good on him.

You thought for a second before answering. “He’s a charmer, alright, in a really weird, awkward way. Kinda reserved, but very helpful. I respect it.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” She nudged your shoulder with her own.

“Well hold your horses, there, Honeybee. Some of us need a little more time to see what’s going on under the surface. Not everyone seems to fold so fast like your tall, dark, and handsome Bucket. Steve’s got something to him I just can’t figure out.”

“You will. I’m sure of it. That’s why you’ve got your job and I’ve got mine. You’re meant to be a scientist. An investigator.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

The music began to blare up above your conversation. Well, that’s a familiar tune.

“Oh! You love this one! You remember the dance I showed you in college? I think you’ve got some new guests to teach!”

You looked over to the pool tables to be greeted by Steve’s gaze directed right back at you with a dopey grin. Must be the alcohol, you thought to yourself. Bee had already left your side to go get Bucky.

“Do you want to dance?” You mouthed to him across the bar. He shrugged and mouthed back “I don’t know how.”

You gestured your arm for him to come towards you “I’ll teach you. Come on.”

Steve set down his cue and made his way through the crowd, only able to see your hat through the sea of people. He crouched down to reach your ear so you could hear him in the loud bar. “Don’t make fun of me if it’s bad.”

You laughed and shook your head at him as you set him up to stand in front of you. “No promises,” you yelled back.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Thank you for reading! Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are soooo appreciated.

What do you guys think of Decks? I love imagining her take the vase out to the yard, so fed up with the shenanigans that always happen around Bee.

Series Taglist:

@evie-119

42 notes · View notes

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 23 days

Text

Bonded Pair (Pt.2) - OCxGhost Backstory.

|| [<- Part One] || [Part Three ->] ||

pairing: COD OC!Victoria "Whiskey" Callahan x Simon "Ghost" Riley words: 0.9K~ cw: canon Ghost backstory (torture, injuries), OC backstory (injury)

Soap got airlifted out in the middle of the night, after having walked a few miles in pitch darkness until the exfil location.

And although Ghost didn't hear it, he knows Laswell reamed out Whiskey for sending Soap packing.

Without Soap around, however, it meant they could get better sleeping shifts working.

As she woke up at 0200 on Day 5, she turned on her PTT. “I'm up…” She announced while rubbing her eyes.

Ghost had had nothing but time to think while she slept.

When she wasn't dealing with Soap, Whiskey seemed like a good soldier. Smart, observant, professional, her head was always cool, her words calm and collected.

She was a strange one. He got some type of feeling of deja vu as they worked. Like looking in a mirror.

He had even called out to Laswell and asked for a bit more info on her, when, normally, he never would for anyone else.

“Morning, Sleepin’ Beauty.” He greeted.

“It's not morning yet. And don't call me Sleeping Beauty, or else I'll call you Grim Reaper.” She replied. Her voice was a bit raspy now that she had just woken up.

“It's morning enough…” Ghost retorted. He moved his binoculars in the direction of her camp, noticing her moving about in the dark through the night vision settings.

“Any movement?”

“Neg. Been peaceful.”

“Okay… Well, let me know when you want to sleep.”

“Rog.” There was a pause. Then, Ghost spoke again. “You seem much more relaxed without Soap here.”

“I'm not a talker.”

“I've noticed.”

“You aren't either.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Then, this will make this mission easier. We can just stay quiet for the next two and a half weeks.”

“That we can.”

Day 5: 1800

Other than what they had to, to do their jobs, they stayed true to their word. They didn't speak again…

For a total of 12 hours.

But then there was some type of… itch in Simon. He wanted to talk. He wanted to hear her.

“So what are you eating?” Ghost found himself asking while his plastic fork stirred his MRE.

“It's a… Mexican-style MRE. Has beans and cheddar cheese or something.” Whiskey replied. “It's the only one I actually don't mind eating. The others are disgusting.”

Through his binoculars, he could see her. And she could see him, if she peeked through hers He wondered if she was looking at him too or still focused on the job.

“You don't eat them for the taste-”

“I know you don't. I'm just saying.”

“Sounds better than mine, though.”

“What’s yours?”

“Some type of pasta thing.”

“Not bad.”

Day 5: 2000

“So, you and Johnny's girl…”

“Yep.”

“How long have you been friends?”

“Five years now.”

“Not bad.”

“That feels like a dig at my social skills.”

“It was. But I'm the same way. No offence.”

“None taken.”

“So, you didn't meet Johnny until now?”

“Nope. But heard plenty about him.”

“So what did he do?”

“Can't tell you.”

Day 6: 1300

“How long have you served?”

“9 years now. You?”

“15.”

“15? How fucking old are you?”

“31.”

“You joined at………. 16?”

“Affirm.”

“Interesting. Didn't know the UK let kids do that.”

“With parental permission.”

“I figured as much.”

“How old are you?”

“28, 29 this year.”

Day 8: 0200

“How was your sleep?”

“Decent.”

“As in… bad?”

“Yup.”

“Good to know.”

“Any changes?”

“None so far.”

“I don't like how quiet it is.”

“Neither do I.”

Day 11: 1200

“How'd you meet Laswell?”

“Being the only female Navy SEAL brings a lot of attention to me. You?”

“My Captain.”

“Right. Price?”

“You met him?”

“Worked with him last year.”

“What’d you think of him?”

“Eh… He was efficient. All in all have worked with less capable officers.”

“Don't trust him?”

“Don't distrust him. But that means nothing to me.”

“Same here.”

“He's your Captain, though.”

“And? People you know can hurt you the most.”

Day 14: 1630

“Where are you from?”

“North of England.”

“More specific?”

“Manchester. You?”

“Tennessee.”

“Explains the accent.”

Day 15: 0930

“Why the Navy?”

“It was either that or the Marines… and didn't get accepted into the Marines.”

“Why not?”

“My father was one. Pulled strings.”

“Trying to protect you?”

“Probably. Either way, I've been swimming since I was a girl. Navy made sense too.”

“I see.”

“Why the Army?”

“It was either that or construction.”

“Ah… not a lot of prospects.”

Day 17: 0045

“Why the mask?”

“Same as you. Bad job, bad people. Don't want to bare it out.”

“Yeah, but a skull? A real one at that?”

“You know it's real?”

“Of course I do.”

“Memory of a past life.”

“I see. Well, it looks terrifying.”

“Thank you. ‘s what I was going for.”

Day 19: 0350

“What's the worse scar I've got? I don't know. Have ‘em all over.”

“Gotta have a particularly nasty one, c'mon.”

“On my ribs, then. Big ugly fucker.”

“That's what I'm talking about. I’ve got a bad scar across the face. But my legs are worse.”

“Your legs?”

“Took a napalm bath.”

“Fuckin’ hell. And I thought mine were bad.”

“Yours?”

“Hung from a meat hook by the ribs.”

“Ouch. Are your organs okay?”

“They are now. Are your legs okay?”

“They are now.”

It was on Day 23, that stuff picked up the pace. The target was suddenly on the move and Ghost's voice rang out through the PTT to wake Whiskey up.

They contacted Watcher, packed up their nests and took off on foot to the helo to trail the HVT and intercept him.

Then, they split ways. Ghost reconvened with TF141 for the next part of the mission, and Whiskey took off to Algeria for her next assignment.

They parted ways with a look, the first of many to come, and a light fist bump.

#about ikea 💚#cod oc #cod fanfic #oc: victoria “whiskey” callahan #ghost x whiskey #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc #oc backstory

20 notes · View notes

mudsock-nicdicks-wife · 1 year

Text

Falling Asleep and Waking Up Next To Them!!

Murdoc F. Niccals-

•Mega insomniac

•Like have you SEEN his eye bags???

•He can only sleep if he's drunk because of his nightmares, but if you're there it only takes a few drinks and some cuddles to convince him to sleep.

•He likes to listen to your heartbeat! Especially after a nightmare. It comforts him knowing that you're actually there and alive.

•He snores and makes his goofy Murdoc noises in his sleep.

•He tosses and turns a lot so there's a good chance you'll end up with a bruise in the morning.

•Don't tell him though. He'll act like it was your fault but then probably never sleep again since he doesn't ever want to hurt you, especially physically.

•If he wakes up before you he will just stare at you and smile.

•Until he gets bored (or horny), then he tries to wake you up with kisses and his little lack of attention murdoc groans.

•If you have to wake him (or your alarm goes off), he's VERY grumpy.

•"Five more minutes, yeah doll?" "Okay well now I want five extra minutes because you were talking the whole five minutes."

•Never wants to go to sleep, but never wants to wake up.

•When you wake up he ALWAYS smiles, especially if your hair is a mess. He finds it adorable.

•Immediately demands you cook him breakfast (if Russel isn't already cooking).

•Overall he's a 6/10 falling asleep and waking up most days. On a really bad day for him he's usually a 8/10 since he just wants to drink and sleep.

Stuart '2-D' Pot-

•Stays up until he passes out.

•He just doesn't want to sleep.

•When he does fall asleep he's so cute!

•He sleeps with his knees to his chest so it looks like he's in a tiny ball.

•He doesn't move a lot in his sleep but will sometimes say a sentence or two.

•He has the occasional nightmare but they usually aren't too bad.

•Please make him hot chocolate if he has a nightmare he will love you forever.

•Has SO many stuffed animals to sleep with!!!

•If he wakes up in the middle of the night he sneaks to the living room to play his video games.

•He thinks you don't know, but you always do because he doesn't know how to control his volume most times.

•He's always so sleepy because of this and will need to take naps throughout the day (please nap with him).

•When he wakes up the first thing he's doing is waking you up (if you aren't awake already).

•The second thing he's doing is trying to convince you to go on a breakfast date somewhere!! He gets bored when he hasn't gone out in a while.

•If you tell him no, he will immediately give you the puppy eyes. If the answer is still no he'll be upset with you for a solid five minutes.

•Overall a 8/10.

Russel Hobbs-

•Goes to sleep at exactly 10:30

•He has an entire sleep schedule that he sticks to.

•Encourages you to get a better sleep schedule (we all know you don't have one)

•Sleeps like a rock.

•Once his head hits his pillow he is out and doesn't move until he wakes up.

•Loves to hold you or have you sleep on his chest!

•Always wakes up around 9:00 so he can make you and his band mates breakfast.

•Makes amazing pancakes.

•Will always ask you how you slept at breakfast!

•He is such a sweetheart.

•Overall a 10/10.

(I'm sorry Russel's was so short this is my first time writing for him!!)

Noodle

•Has a decent sleep schedule.

•Usually gets around 5-8 hours of sleep.

•Literally does acrobatics in her sleep.

•Like, will fall asleep with her head on her pillow and wake up with her feet on the pillow and her body hanging halfway off of the bed.

•She's a very heavy sleeper though!

•Rarely has nightmares, but will always comfort you in any way she can if you have a nightmare.

•If you can't sleep she will play her guitar for you.

•She has to have some sort of background noise to fall asleep (something like Youtube or a random movie you both like).

•If you're not kissing her or giving her some sort of affection when you wake up she will be grumpy.

•She loves to sleep in, especially with you!

•If she isn't hungry when Russel is cooking breakfast, she usually eats apple slices with yogurt and sprinkles.

#gorillaz #murdoc niccals #russel hobbs #stuart pot #noodle gorillaz #2d gorillaz #murdoc niccals x reader #2d x reader #noodle x reader #russel hobbs x reader

188 notes · View notes

raggstorice · 10 months

Note

*slides in from the left, overshoots, scrambles back into view after an extended period of crashing sounds with that one cat yowl* howdy I heard you write headcanons :D

Do you have any particular thoughts on how cuddly some of the guys would be? Like who's happy to cuddle, who would doze off, who would be all awkward about it lol - I just like to cuddle my besties haha

Hope you have a great day - and make sure you stay hydrated!

(⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

Ok so this technically falls under the category of x reader but I'll try! I'm not writing these as romantic though! Bestie cuddles.(Most of these depends on your like prior friendship status to them so I'm going to assume that you're like friends. like close ish idk)

Also I don't really know how cuddles work. It's just hugging right? Like sleepy hugs?? Never experienced it before. I'm trying.

Part one: they hug you.

Riddle: 7/10 he'd be like... Okay?? The most awkward thing ever he's trying not to be weird about but then he'll get comfortable and relax. Touch starved.

Ace: 8/10 Prefers second long hugs and stuff but he's down for it. He'd fall asleep instantly.

Deuce: 9/10 AWKWARD. And then he'll get comfortable and it's the best thing ever. -1 point for snoring.

Cater: 10/10 the best. He's touch starved and just waiting. Waiting for a hug.

Trey: 5/10 he just kinda... Wraps his arms around you. He's trying. And failing.

Leona: 2/10 he doesn't hug you. Just sleeps. It's peaceful though and he does wrap his tail around you so???

Ruggie: 10/10 he will randomly run up to you and jump in for a hug. Cuddles all the time. It's the best.

Jack: 10/10 big teddie bear. It's great. He's somehow soft?? Like? Where did your muscles go?

Azul: 8/10 he's... Slightly uncomfortable. He doesn't hug often. But when he does it's really nice. Like. He's squishy.

Jade: 7/10 he's... Decent at cuddling. Again he just kinda. Wraps his arms around you. Extra points for like. Fitting well? Against you??

Floyd: 10/10 again like Ruggie he just runs up and hugs you. He's just more... Feral. It's terrifying. You think he's going to bite you and then you get a hug.

Kalim: 11/10 the sweetest. "Im so happy I could hug you!" And then he does. The cardigan is soft. Cuddles are the best.

Jamil: 7/10 most of the comfort would come from the really fluffy blanket that Kalim gifted to him. It's good. But he's like. Burning hot.

Vil: 5/10 doesn't 'do' hugs. But he will. He. Will. It's awkward. Would be better if he was relaxed. If he's relaxed it's a 10

Rook: 9/10 so comfortable. He's somehow soft? Like? Where did your bones go? -1 point for the hat staying on.

Epel: 10/10 *cries* again. The sweetest. He's soft like rook but firm. Like vil. It's a combination.

Idia: 7/10 he's gaming. Like literally gaming as your cuddling. Hello? Respect?

Ortho: 9/10 Hard. That is made of metal. But he's super sweet about it!

Malleus: 8/10 Squishy. You'd never expect it.

Lilia: 7/10 just kinda shows up behind you and. Oh you're being cuddled. That's nice.

Silver: 8/10 takes after his father. He's less... frightening about it though.

Sebek: 6/10 he's stiff. He's just like... There? Idk +2 points for trying.

Crowley: 6/10 he's hugging you and then. Where did he go? He's gone? The opposite of Lilia

Crewel: 6/10 the coat is fuzzy and soft! He's not.

Trein: 8/10 this man canonically has daughters. He's good at hugging. he'll hug you like you're his child.

Lucius the cat: 100/10 it's. a. cat.

Vargas: 6/10 muscle. That's all you're feeling.

Sam: 7/10 boney. I mean. Look at him. He gives good hugs though

Neige: 10/10 I totally forgot him last time but. Anyways he's the sweetest. He's soft. The best hugs.

Chenya: 9/10 like Floyd. Thankfully he won't Bite.

Grim: 11/10 more feral cat.

Part two: You hug them.

Riddle: 8/10 he's so happy. He might cry.

Ace: 9/10 will just lay on your chest and it's the most comfortable thing ever. -1 point for falling asleep and not moving for hours... You missed classes.

Deuce: 8/10 less awkward! More snoring.

Cater: 10/10 Leans into it. Falls asleep so fast.

Trey: 9/10 stiff but will relax over time. Back hugs. He loves them.

Leona: 10/10 not big on hugs but being hugged? Yes. He purrs.

Ruggie: 10/10 sleeps. his tail wags. It's adorable

Jack: 10/10 big softie. His tail wags and it's probably the best thing ever.

Azul: 9/10 Squishy. Again. Im not sure how to describe it but like human octopus? Idk he's literally and octopus so??

Jade: 7/10 you have to grab this mf. He's too tall. Good hug though.

Floyd: 9/10 Again. Grab him. Better hug than Jade

Kalim: 11/10 does this need an explanation? Big on being cuddled.

Jamil: 8/10 confused. He'll figure it out. Awkwardly hugs back

Vil: 7/10 0-0 <- his face. Hes just. There?

Rook: 8/10 hugs back. Pretty much the same as when he hugs you. -2 points for still keeping the hat.

Epel: 11/10 somehow better? He's lovin' it.

Idia: 8/10 Drops his console. Tries to grab it. Fails

Ortho: 10/10 lifts you. Like. He floats. As a happy response. It's shocking but like. So cute.

Malleus: 8/10 froze. Like Vil. He's just. There.

Lilia: 9/10 "oh. Okay!" Comfortable silence.

Silver: 10/10 asleep. +2 points for the birds.

Sebek: 8/10 Shocked. (Get it? Zigvolt) silently leans into it. Touch starved.

Crowley: 7/10 THE FEATHERS ARE SPIKY?! HOW?! Overall good.

Crewel: 8/10 same as p.1 just. Shocked. He's soft now?

Trein: 10/10 honestly. I don't know how'd he react. Would deffo hug back. It's a bonding moment. He cradles you in his arms.

Lucius the cat: 0/10 scratches you. Unless you've earned his love. 1000/10

Vargas: 8/10 hugs back too tight. You can't breathe.

Sam: 9/10 boney. But good? Somehow??

Neige: 11/10 melts into it. he literally cannot stop smiling.

Chenya: 11/10 Cat. Purrs. +1 for being purple. I love purple.

Grim: 11/10 another cat. Another. Cat.

Authors Note: spot the Voltron reference. Also holy moly I had no clue how to write this.

70 notes · View notes

sisterspooky1013 · 11 months

Text

Parallel, Chapter 6/6

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

She wakes with an arid gasp, shooting upright and scanning her surroundings in a panic. It’s dark, and she reaches blindly across the bed for Mulder to find that he isn’t there.

There’s no sunset, no window, no California king size bed. As seconds pass and her hammering heart slows enough for her thoughts to organize themselves, she realizes that she’s back in Georgetown. The bedside clock reads just past 3:00 am, and she scrambles for her watch to confirm the date. Fewer than five hours have passed since she got into bed.

She picks up the phone and begins to dial Mulder’s number, but hangs up before it has a chance to ring. She doesn’t just need to hear his voice, she needs to see him, to smell him, to know that he’s the right one. That he is hers.

She takes all of five minutes to change her clothes and brush her teeth, forgoing any attempt to look halfway decent. Not that it should matter what she looks like; he’s seen her at her objective worst. He’s seen her exhausted, and dirty, and on the brink of death, and he still looks at her with so much wonder, so much admiration it makes her uncomfortable, because she feels so undeserving of it. She walks out the door in jeans and an oversized sweater, her hair combed but her face bare, and her heart pinned to her sleeve.

Her mind is oddly blank as she drives to his apartment, ascends the elevator, and knocks on his door. She’s operating on instinct, allowing her emotions to lead for once instead of stuffing them down. Allowing the ache in her chest to seek resolution instead of ignoring it. He doesn’t answer and she knocks again, more urgently this time, afraid that she might lose her nerve.

He opens the door and squints at the lights in the hallway. He’s wearing flannel pajama pants but no shirt, and his hair is entirely flat on one side. His rumpled, boyish appearance is disarming and endearing all at once.

“Scully?” he asks groggily, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Did something happen?”

She steps forward and wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her nose into his chest so she can breathe him in deep. A feeling of calm washes over her and she sighs with relief. This is him. This is the right one. Her Mulder.

“You okay?” he asks, returning her hug. “Scully, it’s 3:00 am,” he adds with an edge of surprise.

“I’m okay,” she says, her voice muffled against his skin. “I just had a bizarre dream and I needed to know that you were here.”

“Here at my apartment?” he asks, pulling away a little. She nods, not quite ready to explain it. Not quite sure how. “You could’ve called me,” he points out, and for the first time since leaving her apartment she feels embarrassed and afraid of what he’ll think of her.

“I know,” she says, avoiding his eyes. “But the nature of this dream was—I don’t think I would have felt sure it was really you just from a phone call.”

She can feel his interest piquing, and she wishes she’d been more vague. Most people find discussion of other people’s dreams intolerably boring, but Mulder isn’t most people.

“Come sit down,” he says, gently steering her towards the living room. “I’ll put a pot of coffee on.”

“It’s 3:00 am, Mulder,” she objects, though she knows it’s useless.

He brings her a cup of coffee in what he must have gathered is her favorite mug among his collection. It’s tall and narrow, bearing the faded logo of a long-since closed diner they used to frequent in the days before she started sleeping with her weapon in her bedside drawer. It has just the right amount of cream and sugar, and she tries to remember when and how he perfected that. He never asked, just observed, like he’s observing her now. Watching her bring the mug to her lips and blow the steam away, take a sip and then lower it back to her lap. Three, four, five times he watches her do this, saying nothing. She feels the weight of his attention and for once she lets it sit, lets herself become acclimated to it instead of distracting it away.

“Was it a nightmare?” he says suddenly, and she lifts her eyes to find that his are on her, his elbow propped on the back of the couch and his head resting on his fist.

Her memory flashes on him wrapped around her in the shower, and then his hand gently kneading her breast, and she feels her cheeks warm.

“No,” she says. “Not a nightmare.”

“What was it, then? Not a nightmare, but strange enough to send you across town at 3:00 am? I’ll admit that I’m intrigued,” he says, setting his cup on the coffee table.

She looks down at her lap, running her thumb along the rim of her mug nervously. Her thumbnail is tattered, her manicure ruined, and she frowns as she examines the other hand to find it similarly defaced.

“I think—” she begins, preemptively embarrassed. “I think that maybe our conversation influenced it. In fact, I’m positive that it did.”

“Our conversation?” he asks, oblivious. Leave it to Mulder to have no recollection of an extensive discussion on alternate universes.

“Albert Homnell’s theories on alternate dimensions?” she reminds him, and in her periphery she sees him nod.

“That’s interesting dream fodder,” he says, taking a drink before returning his mug to the coffee table. “What’d your subconscious cook up?”

She steals a glance at him. He still has that unkempt, unguarded, fresh-from-sleep look about him. His cheeks are dark with stubble and his already hooded eyes are drooping. Knowing him, he likely only went to bed a couple hours ago.

“It’s not important, Mulder. I should go so we can both get some sleep,” she says, moving to stand. The weight of his hand on her forearm stills her.

“C’mon, Scully. You’re already here, and now you’ve got me curious,” he gently chides her, and she acquiesces with a sigh.

“It’s, uh…it’s a bit awkward,” she prefaces, setting her mug on the table beside his so she can wring her hands instead.

“If you were hoping that would dissuade my curiosity, you should know that it has the opposite effect,” he says with a smile in his voice, and despite herself she smiles as well.

“I dreamt that…we were together,” she says quickly, her eyes darting between his face and the wall behind the couch. His eyebrows lift, but he otherwise gives no reaction.

“Together?” he repeats.

“Married, actually,” she says, then sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. It feels like the hardest part is out of the way.

“Married?” Mulder repeats again, his eyebrows sailing higher.

“Mmm hmm,” Scully says with a clipped nod.

“Okay,” he says, studying her closely. She can only look at him for milliseconds before she has to look away. Each time he manages to catch her eye, her stomach does backflips at the memory of his mouth on hers and…everything else. “What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I don’t think a dream about us being married would make you drive over here in the middle of the night to confirm my existence, so I’m wondering what else happened. There was more, right?”

He’s not being argumentative, and he does have a point.

“Well, it was sort of…it was like an entirely different world,” she attempts to explain. “We lived on the West Coast, and California was part of Canada, and my sister was there, and so was—”

“California was part of Canada?” he interrupts.

She stops and looks at his face. She was about to tell him about Sam, but that very well might just hurt him.

“Yes,” she confirms, but doesn’t elaborate. The more she tells him, the more he’ll want to know, and talking about it makes it feel real again. All of it. She shifts in her seat. “It was very vivid, and a bit disconcerting. So when I finally woke up back at my apartment, I just felt the need to be sure that I am me and you are you, if you will.”

“Was your dream version of me not your dream version of me?” he asks playfully, though she detects a hint of nervousness underneath.

She thinks about the other Mulder for a moment. Tanned, just slightly less serious, unburdened by a lifetime of tragedy. It feels like a betrayal to even entertain the idea that he might be a “better” version of the Mulder sitting right in front of her.

“He was great,” she says sincerely, “but he wasn’t you.”

Something like surprise flashes across his face, and then his eyes narrow just slightly.

“Married, huh?” he asks, and something about the tenor of his voice betrays what he’s thinking. Scully swallows nervously. “How sure are you that it was just a dream?”

Scully balks.

“What else would it be?”

Mulder shrugs, but the look on his face tells her that he’s prepared to defend his theory and she doesn’t quite feel up for that, not after what she’s just been through. And if it was real, what would that mean? For her and the version of herself who is married to Malibu Mulder.

She looks at her lap again, unsure where to go from here. She’d had such clarity back at her apartment, when she could still feel his kiss tingling on her lips. Now, it really does feel like just a dream, fading away into her memories with each passing moment. She notices her thumbnails again and runs the pads of her index fingers over their jagged edges as she tries to recall what happened to them.

So what do you say? Are we finally gonna hit that ghost tour on the way back?

She looks up at him and is momentarily surprised not to see a tanned, shaggy-haired man on the couch beside her.

“I don’t think it matters, Mulder,” she says, and he cocks his head at her. “Regardless of what it was, I think…I think it was an answer of sorts.”

“An answer to what?”

He no longer looks sleepy. His eyes are alert and focused, jumping around her face as he waits for her to speak. There’s so much expectation there, so much interest, and the stakes feel so impossibly high.

“Why did you kiss me on New Year’s Eve?” she blurts out, which is partly deflection but still very much on topic.

Mulder gapes at her, completely caught off guard, and sits up straighter.

“Where did that come from?” he asks uncomfortably, reaching for his mug only to find it empty. “I guess it seemed like the thing to do at the moment. Did it bother you?”

The fact that he seems genuinely concerned that she might be upset about it is almost funny, if not for the fact that they have been stuck in this confusing limbo for what is starting to feel like an eternity.

“No, Mulder, it didn’t bother me,” she says with a slight laugh and a shake of her head.

“Okay. Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

There’s a heavy pause and someone slams a door in the hallway. He answered her question, but at the same time he didn’t answer it at all. He didn’t say what she needed him to say, which was that he kissed her because he wanted to. If he would just give her that, she might feel brave enough to take them the rest of the way.

In her effort to look anywhere but his face, her eyes fall to the scar on his shoulder. She scoots closer and reaches out to touch it, and Mulder follows her hand with his eyes as she brushes the pad of her middle finger across the smooth pink flesh. Without thinking, she leans forward and presses her lips to it, laying her hand on his chest for stability. Beneath her palm, his heart is hammering so hard she has to resist the urge to count out his pulse rate.

I love you, she mouths against his skin.

When she lifts her head to look at him, there’s an incredibly pained expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her hand still resting on his chest, fingers splayed.

“In your dream—” he begins, then clears his throat. “Were we happy?”

“Together?” she asks, and he nods. “Yes,” she says with a soft smile, remembering how easy it felt to just let him love her.

“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” he asks, and now it is she who nods.

It feels as though they could fall down this rabbit hole forever, continuously ignoring the fact that they never seem to arrive anywhere.

“I wonder why you haven’t kissed me again,” she says quietly, and immediately her blood runs cold. Despite a hundred different death-defying situations she’s found herself in, this feels like the most terrifying yet.

“I wonder if you’d want me to,” he says back, and again his heart is thumping against her palm, giving him away. For some reason knowing that he is also afraid makes her feel brave.

“I would, Mulder.”

He sighs, and the warmth of his coffee breath against her cheeks is so familiar she barely hesitates at all before arching up to kiss him. He initially receives her kiss with surprise, but before she can pull away his hands are on her jaw and he’s kissing her back in earnest.

With her eyes closed, muscle memory takes over. It’s not that she’s pretending he’s Malibu Mulder, but that when she was kissing Malibu Mulder she was pretending he was her Mulder. And so kissing him, sliding her tongue across his, letting him pull her closer, all feel like things they’ve done before.

But where Malibu Mulder had the practiced, comfortable demeanor of a man kissing his wife, her Mulder has the nervous, adrenaline-fueled energy of a man kissing his partner for the very first time beyond a peck in a hospital waiting room. And his nervous energy combined with her own un-sated desires from just hours prior put them on a fast track from kissing, to making out, to him pulling her into his lap and grinding his erection against the seam of her jeans.

“Is this okay?” he mumbles against her mouth as his hands slip under her sweater.

“Uh-huh,” she assures him, moving her hips in tight circles when she finds just the right press of his erection against her clit.

Both his hands find her breasts, gently kneading and brushing his thumbs across her nipples. She’s fairly certain that if they keep this up she’s going to have an orgasm fully clothed in his lap. She’s fairly certain that she intends to do just that.

“Mulder,” she whispers, high and needy, and he groans.

Does he know? She wants him to know. Somehow, she thinks it won’t feel as good if he doesn’t. She brings her lips to his ear, circling her hips while he continues to gently pinch her nipples in the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.

“Wait, stop stop stop,” he says suddenly, pulling his hands out from under her sweater and stilling her hips. Her orgasm slips away, and the stark reality of what they are doing quickly settles in. She immediately feels ashamed and moves to get off him, but again he grabs her by the hips to stop her. “No, don’t go,” he begs. “I just…I need a minute.”

“We can stop if you want to stop,” she says, not looking at his face.

“Scully,” he says sternly, then waits until she looks at him. “I do not want to stop. Do you want to stop?” She shakes her head. “Great, then we’re on the same page. I just—this is a little embarrassing but I just didn’t want to make a mess, if you catch my drift.”

“Oh,” she says with a nervous laugh. The idea that he may have also been on the brink of an orgasm sets off a fresh wave of arousal.

“I don’t want to stop,” he says again, “but I do want to be sure that this isn’t…I don’t know, too fast? Too much too soon? I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret later.”

Scully lets out a blustering sigh.

“You’re probably right,” she says.

“So what should we do?” he asks, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“I think I should go?” she says, uncharacteristically lifting the end of her statement into a pseudo-question.

“Yeah,” Mulder agrees reluctantly.

She awkwardly removes herself from his lap, quickly averting her eyes when she sees that he is still very much erect. She walks to his front door on unsteady legs and he trails a few steps behind her. When her hand is on the knob, she turns around and looks up at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course,” he answers.

Seconds tick by. Her hand is still resting on the door knob behind her back, but she doesn’t turn it.

“Goodnight, then,” she says, still unmoving.

“Goodnight.”

She turns the knob and the latch pops open, allowing a sliver of light in from the hallway. Still, she just looks at Mulder. He stares back at her, his bare chest rising and falling at a labored clip. He takes one step forward and she reflexively lifts her chin, her mouth falling partly open.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you goodnight?” he asks, and she’s already nodding emphatically before the final word leaves his mouth.

The first kiss is chaste. The second is lingering. On the third, she swipes her tongue across his bottom lip and he hums. The fourth, his hands are on her waist and the door slams closed when he presses her against it with his body. The height difference is awkward, but they are beyond motivated to compensate for it, and he alternately stoops a bit and lifts her off the ground while her calves ache from standing on her tiptoes. His stubble scrapes her chin and his eager teeth pinch her lip painfully, but she’s never been so happy to be so uncomfortable.

When he straightens up she feels the brush of his groin against her belly. The throbbing between her legs is nearly unbearable, and she knows she is past the point of self-control. If Mulder doesn’t stop this, she won’t either. She slips her fingers under the waist of his cotton pajama pants and he heaves a shuddering breath.

“What are you doing?” he asks tightly.

“Tell me to stop,” she whispers around desperate kisses.

“Fuck, I don’t want to,” he groans.

Her hand slides lower until she feels the tickle of his pubic hair against the tips of her fingers. He’s breathing so hard he’s pulling the air right from her mouth as they attempt to keep kissing, making her feel light-headed. His hands move from her hips to her ass cheeks, the grip of his fingers desperate and feral, and she is completely incapable of rational thought. She wraps her hand around his shaft, smooth and thick and warm, and his knees warble before he steadies himself with one hand against the door.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he hisses.

“I don’t want to go,” she whimpers, giving him one firm stroke.

His hands are back on her ass, kneading and pulling her pelvis against him, which makes her bump up against her own hand. He starts tugging at the waist of her jeans, fumbling with the button, then the zipper, and before she really registers what’s happening he’s wedging his hand under the stiff denim with his palm pressed against her belly. There’s no room for him to move, but she feels the brush of his fingers across her clit and an involuntary moan bubbles up from the back of her throat. Mulder’s forehead drops against the door with a loud thunk.

They stay frozen like that for a few seconds, with her hand wrapped around his cock and his fingers resting over her slick lips.

“I want you,” he breathes into her ear. The heat of his breath makes her quiver under his fingers and he groans.

“Then take me to bed,” she says, feeling bold beyond what she thought herself capable of.

He doesn’t need any time to contemplate her proposition. He withdraws his hand and she withdraws hers, and he scoops her up and carries her to his bedroom with a level of urgency befitting the situation. The room is dark save for what leaks in from the living room or around the blinds, and he sets her carefully on the floor before divesting her of her sweater. She pushes his pajama pants off his hips but they get caught on his erection, which makes her laugh. The shine of his smile in the dim room sets her at ease, and they slow down a bit. As much as they both want this, there’s no need to rush.

He lays her down on the bed and peels her jeans from her legs, leaving her panties on while he kisses the insides of her thighs. She knows that the second he touches her she’s going to come, and she’s as excited as she is nervous. He kisses as far as the seam of her leg, pulling in a deep breath through his nose that makes her self-conscious. Then he kisses her right over her panties, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through her pelvis.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

“Is this okay?” he asks, brushing his nose back and forth across her clit.

She feels herself unraveling. She’s too far gone to stop it.

“Oh my god,” she says again.

Her hips arch up off the bed and he presses his face between her legs as an orgasm tears through her, powerful and overwhelming. She cries out, completely unable to contain it, and she feels the wet heat of his mouth directly on her pussy as she comes and comes and comes. When the height of it has passed, she looks down and sees her panties pulled to the side, and Mulder’s face buried between her thighs, eyes closed in concentration. As she slowly comes down, she feels surprised and a little embarrassed.

Mulder crawls up to the bed beside her and kisses her neck while she catches her breath.

“That was…unexpected,” she finally says, feeling her cheeks warm.

“Was it okay?” he asks nervously.

“Yes, very much so,” she reassures him. “Just not the standard order of operations, I suppose.”

Mulder chuckles a little.

“Well, you know I’m never one to do things by the book,” he says lightly, tucking his face into the crook of her neck.

“That quality about you typically annoys me, but I find myself willing to make an exception,” she quips.

He starts dropping little kisses to the side of her neck, and despite her recent release she clenches her thighs together, ready for more. She rolls to her side and finds his lips, and they just lie there and kiss for a while, completely nude save for her panties. Her hand wanders down the firm planes of his back, over his hip, and finally back to his cock, which is stiff to the point of leaking. His breathing shudders and his muscles tense as she strokes him languidly.

“I think it’s only fair that you don’t judge me for my unimpressive stamina at this point,” he says, drawing the end of the sentence out with a low moan.

“I would never,” she says, greedy to see and feel him lose control in the same way he’s seen her.

Releasing him, she wriggles out of her panties and kicks them away, then gently pushes on his shoulder. Rolling him to his back, she slowly climbs on top of him. She still feels nervous, even after what they’ve already done. She settles over his lap, sitting directly atop his shaft such that it brushes across her clit when she shifts her hips forward and back. Immediately she knows that she’ll come again if she keeps it up, and it feels embarrassing for reasons she couldn’t possibly explain. It’s like her body is telling all her secrets to his, revealing just how much she’s wanted this and for how long.

His body answers by gripping her hips to hold her steady and grinding against her. She’s folded in half, her forehead resting against his, and her mouth hanging open in overwhelm.

“Oh my god,” she breathes into his face, and he has clearly already intuited what that means for her.

“Come on,” he says softly, rutting up into her.

She lifts her hips and reaches down between them, taking hold of him and guiding him inside her. There’s a stretch, a sting, and then overwhelming pleasure. She loses herself again, sitting up and planting her hands on his chest for stability as she rides him roughly.

“Oh fuuuuuuuck,” he hisses.

His shoulders lift off the mattress, his hands still planted on her hips. She’s right there, right there on the edge, and when he starts throbbing inside her she is gone, gone, gone.

Later, she’ll blush when she thinks about how loud she was, how brazen. How greedily she continued to fuck him until he was too soft to continue. How he flipped her to her back and slipped two fingers inside her, making her come again. But in the moment, all she knows is that she has never felt so good in her life, so safe. He touches her like he’s done it a hundred times, like he knows just what she needs. And when she finally becomes over sensitive and pushes his hand away, he throws a blanket over them both and wraps his arms around her. It’s nearly 6:00 am and the hazy yellow light of sunrise signals the arrival of morning.

“We have work in a few hours,” she says sleepily, resting her head on his chest.

“I think today is a good day to play hooky,” he tells her, giving her a squeeze.

They are quiet for a few minutes, and she starts to doze off.

“I’m glad you came over,” he says quietly.

“Me too,” she agrees, tilting her head up in invitation of a kiss.

She drifts in a sea of dopamine and oxytocin for some time, slipping into sleep until Mulder sighs or shifts and reminds her that she is not sleeping alone for the first time in years.

“Can I ask you a question?” he says, pulling her back again.

“Hm?”

“The dream me, or alternate me…was he an improvement over the model in this universe?”

She props herself up on an elbow and looks at him in the hazy morning light. He looks uncertain. Vulnerable.

“Not any more than the alternate version of me was,” she says, meeting his eye. “I think we’re products of our experiences in many ways, but at the core we’re still the same people. You would still be you and I would still be me even if our lives had taken different paths, but maybe those paths were meant to cross. I don’t wish you were different, Mulder, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The corner of his mouth quirks.

“I was actually referring to the sex,” he admits sheepishly.

Scully’s mouth falls open in surprise, and then she drops her forehead against his chest to hide her face in embarrassment.

“I wouldn’t know,” she tells him, resettling herself.

“Really?” he asks in disbelief. “Not even a kiss?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Wow. It took me nearly seven years to do what that man did in a day. What’s his secret?” he asks, jostling her playfully.

“We were married, Mulder,” she says with an edge of irritation. “Can I please go to sleep now?”

“Okay, okay. Sweet dreams, Scully.”

She snorts a laugh.

“Goodnight, Mulder.”

She falls asleep surprisingly fast and is quickly pulled into the limitless world of dreams. These dreams are of the ambiguous, hazy nature she’s used to. They are non-linear and full of missing context, but when she wakes she’ll recall the twinkle of Christmas lights and Mulder’s hand on her rounded belly, and the loud bark of her father’s laugh.

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #dana scully #txf #fox mulder #xf fanfic #x files #the x-files #xfiles

74 notes · View notes

niceboyeds · 2 years

Text

shared trauma (e.m.)

summary: reader has been having trouble sleeping ever since their first time experiencing the upside-down. after finding out Eddie is having the same issue, they try to work through it together.

word count: 3K

a/n: i couldn’t sleep so i thought i’d try this one out. hope you like it xx

nav

——————

it’s been over two months since you’ve gotten a decent night’s sleep. over two months since you were able to sleep more than an hour or two at a time, even the naps still trap you in a familiar nightmare. non-coincidentally, it’s been roughly two months since the latest encounter with the upside-down.

you’re exhausted and craving any form of sleep, but you aren’t sure how you’d be able to. every time you closed your eyes it’s like you’re transported back into the upside-down, terrified and approaching death.

you were at family video, talking with the other young adults about some fun night they had planned to do with the teens. while Robin is talking, confirming the plans of the evening, you zone out and only come to when a hand is placed on your back and startles you.

“sorry doll, didn’t mean to spook ya.” Eddie whispers and you give him a small smile and nod before trying to catch up on the missed conversation.

“sounds great. everyone remembers who they’re picking up?” Nancy says while turning to you. oops.

“if i’m being honest, I lost track of what’s happening a while ago..” you sigh and they chuckle, somewhat familiar with your ability to space out, but thankfully they don’t ever seem to get annoyed.

“it’s okay, most of it was pointless.” Robin glares at Steve while he talks, but she smiles anyway because it’s not like she can deny her known rambling habits. “Eddie is gonna bring you and Max, Nance and Jonathan are grabbing the other kids and you’ll all meet me and Rob at my house at 7. pack an overnight bag.”

“okay, sounds good.” you smile approvingly, but you’d go along with anything. “i’m gonna go get ready.”

“do you need a ride home?” Eddie asks before you begin walking away.

“no, no it’s okay. see you at..?”

“oh um, I guess about 6:45?”

“6:45,” you confirm, “sounds great.”

it’s a quick walk to the house. your single dad works hard to provide for you, to keep the money coming in and the roof over your head secure. but his lack of parenting and presence in general has led to a distant relationship. regardless of how close you and your father are, you’re still grateful he continues to pay for your needs on top of your local community college tuition.

“dad?” walking into the simple one-story house, you’re greeted with the all-too-familiar nothingness. sometimes you wonder why you call out to him, knowing your father isn’t there, but it’s routine.

sometimes though, he is actually there and will welcome you back with an awkward hug. you know this isn't one of those times, the note on the refrigerator confirms it.

“business in Cali, returning next Wednesday. -Dad”

you leave the note on the fridge, along with the countless others, rolling your eyes as you walk off to your bedroom. it’s a little before 6 o’clock, roughly an hour before Eddie is coming to pick you up. you figure it’s as good a time as any to attempt a quick nap.

abruptly woken up, you find yourself somewhat sweaty from the dreams you can’t get rid of, but it always seems to be the same one.

you’re stuck in the upside down, the bats circling you and your friends, hundreds of them, maybe thousands. they spiral around you like a tornado. one by one they pick everyone off, you watch as each of your friends are essentially swallowed into the black sea of the demo-bats. then it’s your turn, they swarm you and rip you apart, sometimes it seems so real you think you can feel it.

a knock outside brings you back, peering over to the alarm clock it reads 6:40pm. Eddie wasn’t exactly known to be a punctual person, let alone someone who arrives early. you open the front door with a yawn, seeing him smiling down at you.

“you’re early. no Max?” noting the lack of a red-head while moving to the side to invite him in.

“she went home with Lucas after school, she’s gonna ride with the others.” another yawn escapes and you cover your mouth as you nod to his response.

“I just need like two minutes.”

“no problem hun, take your time. you okay?” he looks over you while walking inside, closing the door behind him.

“yeah, i’m fine. why the sudden interest?” you tease, walking back to your room and leaving him in the living room.

“you just look a little extra tired lately. been busy?”

“I just have a hard time sleeping, ya know? since the upside-down shit.” you call out from your room, running a brush through your hair and pinning half of it up with a clip. you quickly throw a pair of pajamas into an old backpack along with some toiletries.

walking back out to the living room, you don’t see Eddie anywhere. you wander through the dining room and into the kitchen, finding him leaning against the counter, starring at the refrigerator.

“see anything interesting?” he seems startled by your appearance in the kitchen.

“he leaves you alone a lot.”

“yep…”

“when was the last time you saw him?”

“eh, probably like a week ago? he travels a lot for work.” he nods and follows as you move towards the door and slip on your shoes.

you hop into his van and sit comfortably with the familiar music playing. the volume is turned down to a tolerable level, something you noticed he does when he picks you or the kids up. you ride in silence but that’s not something unusual.

“wanna know a secret?” he speaks up, finally having something to talk about.

“do you even have to ask? yes, tell me!”

“I have trouble sleeping too. usually when the house is empty, which is unfortunate since Wayne works nights.”

“we’re pretty fucked up, aren’t we?” your voice is soft, picking at your fingers to distract yourself.

“I think that’s putting it lightly.”

“how do you think the others do it? I feel like— like i’m weak. these kids are still so young, but they brush it off like it’s normal. but here I am, unable to sleep because i’m terrorized by nightmares.” he shakes his head, disagreeing with what you said.

“you’re not weak, none of us are. that’s something i’ve had to come to terms with lately. everyone processes trauma differently. and the others… well they’ve just had more time to learn how to cope.”

“seems like we experience it the same.” you say as he wraps his hand around yours and squeezes it reassuringly.

the rest of the drive to Steve’s is quick, Eddie being a known speeder. and despite the few tickets he’s gotten over the years he doesn’t care to slow down. the two of you pull into the Harrington’s driveway and spot the Wheeler’s familiar station wagon already unloaded of children.

“ready to entertain 6 high schoolers?” you tease and he gives a weary nod, preparing for the chaos that will follow.

the night turned out to be a lot of fun, playing games and letting the kids swim out back. while everyone was settling down to watch a movie, you had made sure to clean up the kitchen a little bit with help from Nancy.

after things seemed to be clean, you joined the others in the living room, already in your pajamas. Robin patted the empty space next to her on the couch and lifted up the blanket so you could share it, immediately getting cozy and feeling relaxed.

looking over the room, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself when you saw everyone looking so happy and content. everyone enjoying themselves, being able to feel young again. like you’re not in charge of saving the world.

one by one, you watched their heads droop until they all fell asleep on the floor or couches. then it was just you, left with your inability to fall asleep, regardless of how safe and secure you felt in this moment.

you left Robin on the couch, opting for the reclining chair next to it to give her more room. you tossed and turned for a little while, trying to get comfortable until you found sleep.

but sleep didn’t last long, maybe an hour or two, before you jolted awake with fear prodding at you. browsing the sea of people in the living room, you counted to make sure everyone was still there. you watched the younger one’s chests rise and fall with each breath they took. you were all safe. you could physically see them and hear their breaths and snores. but why could you not get past the crippling fear that you had lost them?

your chest begins to tighten as the nightmare still lingers in your mind, tears start pricking your eyes and no matter how many deep breaths you take it doesn’t seem to help.

not wanting to wake the others, you pull yourself out of the chair and walk to the back door still wrapped in the blanket you were using. slipping outside as quietly as possible you walk quickly away from the door until you find yourself sitting on the ground.

you pull your legs up to your chest, laying your head on your knees as you let the tears slip out and try to regain your composure. there was something different in this dream you had tonight.

it was set up the same as always, but when the swarm of bats began to pluck your friends off, you heard their yells, whereas in pervious dreams all you could hear was the flapping of wings. They were crying out for you to help them. calling your name over and over with the most blood curdling screams you've ever heard. but you couldn’t get to them in time, you couldn’t save them. and right when it was your turn to get attacked, the bats disappeared, leaving you alone and having lost every single person who mattered to you. everyone you loved.

your sniffles continued but your tears have stopped, perhaps you’ve run out. you feel a cool breeze that brings goosebumps to your legs, wrapping the blanket around you tighter and you use it to dry your face.

“you okay?” the voice makes you jump, but after looking to see Eddie walking over to you, your shoulders relax a little.

“yeah. yeah I’m fine.” your voice is still shaky and you curse at yourself for sounding so weak. “did I wake you?”

“no not at all. I got up to get some water. noticed a body was missing and got nervous.”

“sorry, I just… needed some air I guess.” with a sigh you loosen the grip you have on your legs, still holding them.

“was it a nightmare?” you simply reply with a small nod, hearing him shuffle a little more on the pool deck before taking a seat next to you.

“you can go back inside, i'm sure you’re tired. i’ll head back in soon.” you attempt to persuade him.

“i’d like to sit out here with you, if that’s okay.” another nod of your head, your chest filling with guilt. you don’t think you can talk him into going back to bed and leaving you alone outside. instead you find yourself maneuvering the blanket to go around his shoulders, trying to at least keep him warm.

“do— do you want to talk about it?” he whispers, trying to get you to open up. his hand reaches for yours and you let him hold it, feeling a sense of security while he gently rubs his thumb in a pattern.

you tell him about the nightmares you typically have, he listens intensely, sympathetically holding your gaze. but the look on his face after you tell him the one you had tonight was genuinely painful. he wipes the few tears off your face, bringing you into a hug. he doesn’t talk, doesn’t tell you that your dream won’t happen, he just holds you.

“it always feels so real...” you whisper in his arms, your head leaning on his shoulder and his head on yours.

“you know how I told you I can’t sleep when the house is empty? well, sometimes I can’t sleep unless someone else is in the bed with me. the amount of times Wayne has found me next to him is countless. he’s never questioned it though.”

“he sounds like a great guy.”

“yeah, he’s amazing. i’m really lucky to have him.” you smile at that, happy to know someone is always looking out for him.

“even if my dad was home, I don’t think we’d have that kind of relationship.” you say truthfully, knowing after your mom died your family withered away with her.

the two of you sit outside for a while in silence, only noticing it’s likely been hours when the bird start chirping and the sky around you starts to gain a faded orange hue.

“you know… if you ever need someone to come over and keep you company, you can call me. even if it’s the middle of the night.” his voice is still so gentle, as if trying to prove he really means it.

“you can always call me too, lord knows i’ll be awake.” you say with a small laugh, trying to lighten mood. “I mean it, though. please call me. you can come sleep over at my place anytime.” Eddie smiles through a yawn, making you realize he stayed up all night with you just to help you feel better.

you stand, holding out your hand to help him up, and make your way back into the house full of sleeping teens. the look of them sprawled across the floor, laying in each other and sharing blankets makes you smile, but the thought of your dream still lingers in your mind.

—————

a week has passed since the sleepover and at this point you’re desperate for sleep. you’ve tried sleeping pills but all they do is make you groggy, never aiding in helping you sleep.

it’s midnight, at least it was the last time you checked the clock. laying on your bed, you follow the fan on the ceiling as the blades circle around. contemplating taking Eddie up on his offer, maybe if you called him he would come over. maybe you could lay next to him, so he could sleep, and he could hold you after you wake from a nightmare.

with a sigh, you roll yourself out of bed and walk towards the phone in the kitchen. you go to dial his number, praying you won’t wake him, but your line rings instead. it startles you, an unexpected call in the middle of the night. you still pick it up immediately.

“hello?”

“hi. did I wake you?” Eddie?

“no. actually I... I was about to call you.” you smile into the phone, happy that you both seem to need some comforting tonight. “you okay? wanna come over?”

“I really do.” did he just sniffle? is he crying??

“come over, i’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

“be there in 5.” he says before you end the call.

five minutes feels like a lifetime while you wait for him to show up. but the light knock on the front door before it opens makes you perk up, walking to the entryway to meet him.

“hey.” you smile at him, glad he came over. glad he wanted to come over.

“hi. um, thanks for letting me come over.”

“of course.” you lead him to your bedroom, looking over his frame and notice somethings off. “you okay?”

seeing him in the lowly lit room, it’s obvious he was crying. sure, you recognize his pair of bloodshot eyes from smoking, but these eyes are slightly puffy and sad.

“yeah, it’s kind of embarrassing.” you sit with him on the bed, reaching out your hand to hold his.

“what? that nightmares can scare you?” you ask, he nods immediately. you know that feeling so well.

“this one was different than the others. usually I can wake myself up from them, telling myself it’s not real. but this time... it was like I was stuck.” he shivers as he talks, looking into your eyes. “I was screaming at myself to wake up, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t until the monster got you. all of you.”

you wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly as he returns the gesture. hugging for who knows how long, but not caring because there’s something so comforting about his embrace. you both understand exactly what the other is experiencing.

“you wanna try to sleep again?” he nods his head as the two of you lay on the pillows. you pull the blankets up to share, seeing him lean over to switch the lamp off.

“could you— sorry, can you leave it on? I can't sleep in the dark anymore.” you speak quietly.

“of course.” he lays down, his arm pressing against yours on your full-size bed. “goodnight.”

“goodnight, Ed’s.”

you wake up wrapped up in a pair of arms, hair tickling your neck as you open your eyes. you stretch a little, nuzzling into the warm body, wondering if he’s awake yet.

“mornin.” guess that answers your question.

“good morning. sorry, did I lay on you all night?” you ask, moving yourself off of him.

“i’m honestly not sure, just woke up like that.” he chuckles and you sit up a little disoriented. “what’s wrong?” now he looks nervous.

“that was the first night in months that i’ve slept without having a nightmare.” a smile forming on both of your faces.

“I have to admit, I haven’t slept that well in a long time too.”

nearly every night since then, Eddie comes over to sleep. you two may be dependent on each other, but if it means no longer having nightmares or sleepless nights then there’s nothing to complain about. a little co-dependence never hurts, and you certainly didn’t have any desire to stop.

#stranger things #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things blurb #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fanfic #platonic eddie munson

337 notes · View notes

frecklystars · 19 days

Text

I jolted awake from a nightmare as usual and normally I think about Ken or Six comforting me but....... this time for some reason I thought about Jacob.... ;-;

Jacob doesn't know much about ptsd and probably doesn't get nightmares too often. So when he sees me shaking and sweating after a rather bad one, he turns on some dim lighting and he looks kind of freaked out, not really knowing what to do other than to hug me and rub my back. He keeps saying "it was just a bad dream, it wasn't real" but that doesn't help me much because a lot of my nightmares are based off of real things that have happened to me, and he just,,, doesn't know what else to say. He just whispers "I'm not going to hurt you" and that's enough. He doesn't feel like it's enough though and he feels bad.

For a few minutes we lay there in silence, holding each other... in his giant stupid water bed with the fancy pillows that perfectly conform to the shape of your head in the dim glow of one of his fancy ass lamps and he's like, "hey, did I ever tell you where I got this lamp? How much it costs? So stupid." And he goes into this story about it. He spends like a good solid twelve minutes just listing off every single thing in his bedroom that he bought that he doesn't even care about. I can't get over his calf pants (pants for your calves). He suddenly realizes he can help; he's good at distracting me, he's good at making me laugh.

He lets me wear one of his shirts bc it smells like him and it's grounding and he thinks I look sooo cute in his shirts. He's like, screw it, let's get up and eat. yeah it's 5am who cares let's eat cereal. He pours a bowl of cereal and I notice on the back of the box there's marks with a sharpie, and he catches me staring and he says "oh yeah I filled out this little crossword puzzle last week :) you wanna try" and I think he's the cutest dork in the whole world. This is the same guy who introduces himself to sexy women at the bar by high-fiving them and somehow they still want to get into bed with him asap. He's like Barney Stinson, but, like, more of a decent human being.

And he's like :) what are you looking at. and i'm like. you! I love you. I love you so much and I am so lucky to have you. and he's like!!! I love you too I love you so much!!! and when we're done munching on cereal he turns on some music on his speakers and we hold hands while dancing in his stupidly huge living room. Maybe we watch a show or a movie until we finally doze off. It always takes me 6 to 8-ish hours to fall asleep again after I jolt awake, maybe some nights he's able to stay up with me, other times he's not because he has a regular sleep schedule like a normal human being. Lucky bastard.

But it doesn't matter if he falls asleep or not, because he always lays next to me making sure he's holding my hand, and before he feels himself dozing off, he always mumbles sleepily "Hey... star girl. It's gonna be okay. You got me now." He's always worried he isn't doing enough, but he is. He always is.

#love notes #💕♬♪ ♡ It feels different when you’re with me - ̗̀☆🥂🖤✨☆ ̖́-#im so lucky i found barbie and ken when i did and now i have jacob too ;_;#i have like a dozen protectors now and it's such a relief #i don't miss the days when i'd jolt awake with absolutely nobody to turn to #i'm so glad i have my baby goose boys 😭😭 i need them #i have to work in a couple of hours and i just. hhuhuhuh i wanna cry. oh my god #im so tired. my eyes burn. im gonna just lay in bed with my eyes closed til my alarm goes off #i just wanted to get this out

7 notes · View notes

jpitha · 11 months

Text

The Dreams of Hyacinth 6

First / Previous / Next

The morning found all three of them sprawled asleep on Eastern's couch. They wound up just sleeping where they fell. Nothing other than sleep happened the night before - they were much too sore and tired for that but Nick was surprised how... comfortable it was to share space with the two of them.

All three got up and made their way into Eastern's tiny kitchen as Eastern's coffee maker bubbled and hissed. Eastern bustled and got tea going for Selkirk.

Nick's head was still sore, but the weakness and tiredness was much better. He felt almost normal. After the drinks were made, they all sat at the small table and woke up. "Okay Sel." Eastern takes another sip of her coffee. "We have to find an AI, her name is Yon." She looked up at Selkirk. "She's Jameson's daughter."

Sel's ears pricked up. "What? He has a daughter? How the hell does that work?"

Nick looked over at them. "Takes all kinds to be a family Sel, you know that. Yon's his daughter, we're not going to quibble."

"Fair enough." Selkirk flicked her tail and took a sip of tea. "So everyone thought she was in the coffin box, but she wasn't? Did Jameson let you keep the box?"

Eastern nods. "It's in my bag. He said we can use it to box her up if we need to."

Selkirk makes a face. "If we need to?"

"If she's been placed in a ship. Can't bring the wayward child back to their father if they're a Starjumper, now can we?"

Selkirk looks out the window. "I don't like that. I don't know much about coffin boxes, but I do know that most AIs hate being in them. I hope it doesn't come to that." She takes another sip of her tea. "Good on having it though. I can scan it and see if we can get some file data. Maybe find out how long ago she was moved off it, or if she was ever even on it." She stands up and stretches, all her fur poofing out as she does. "I don't know about you, I'm starving though. Let's throw on some clothes and get breakfast first. I do all my best work on a full stomach."

The three of them got dressed - Nick once again marveled at how... comfortable it was to be together, the three of them, naked in the room, putting on clothes and getting ready - and went out into Hyacinth.

This time, Selkirk took the lead, and brought them to a cafe a short metro ride from Eastern's apartment. As they walked, Nick looked around. Eastern lived off Gladiolus square, near the end of the arm.

The further away from the base of Hyacinth you were, the less expensive the housing was, but also the less desirable it was - until you got to the very end. During rush hour, a metro ride from Gladiolus to Congregation took more than an hour. An Omnibus ride that far took maybe two. One of the biggest benefits of living that far up the arm was that the apartments were bigger. If you were willing to live all the way near the top of the arm, you could own a house with a yard. Born and raised a city kid, Nick always thought that was odd. Why pay extra to live super far away and have to do more maintenance on your own place? Nick's place off Laurel was just about the size of Eastern's bedroom and bathroom together.

Nick realized that they'd probably have to go apartment shopping soon if they were going to keep giving this a shot. They might be able to save some money on one rent instead of three and be able to get a nicer place further down the arm.

The cafe Selkirk lead them too was small, and had a decent mix of K'laxi and Humans inside. It smelled like breakfast. A host sat them by a window, and a server brought steaming pots of coffee and tea and left them on the table.

"I've lived in Gladiolus for a year now and I never knew this place existed!" Eastern looked around. "Sel, you really do know everything there is to know about Hyacinth."

"Everything that matters at least." She flicked her ears playfully as she took a sip of tea. "This place goes pancakes and waffles with real Maple syrup. I don't know if it's Gord's Reserve, but we're close enough to Earth that we don't have to worry about it being fake."

Nick glanced at the menu while Selkirk talked. For what an order of pancakes cost, the maple syrup had better be platinum plated. "I'm just going to get a breakfast sandwich." Nick looked up at them. "You two go nuts though."

Selkirk rolled her eyes. "You can't go to a place that's famous for their pancakes and get the breakfast sandwich, Nick. This is my treat. Live a little. Get the pancakes. In fact..." Selkirk made a complex gesture with her hands and ears and tail.

A K'laxi server noticed and came right over. Surprising Nick, Selkirk ordered for everyone. It was pancakes for the table, extra syrup, a fruit plate and some Near Bacon. Selkrik knew Nick was a Lacto-ovo vegetarian, so she kept meat off the order.

A little while after that the food arrived. As the plates were placed down Eastern looked serious. "No business until after we eat, okay? I don't want to talk shop on an empty stomach." Nick and Selkirk nodded and they tucked in. It really was a good meal. Nick wasn't usually the type to eat a big breakfast, he was more a coffee and pastry kind of person. Selkirk was clearly in her element though. She tore through the pancakes and syrup, making sure there was no leftovers. She made sure Eastern and Nick got what they wanted and they didn't feel deprived, but this was an... event for Selkirk.

"I never had you pegged as a foodie, Sel." Eastern smiled and finished off her coffee."

"I fucking love pancakes." Selkirk said after finishing a bite. "I swear it's the best thing humans ever created. I could eat them every damn day."

Nick smiled. "Okay, now that we've eaten. We should talk next steps. Where do you want to talk?"

Selkirk looked around the cafe. It wasn't crowded but... "Not here. Let's go to your place Nick, you live down-arm, I bet your place is nice."

Nick was startled. His place was decidedly not nice. "Uh okay, but just to manage expectations, it's a little messy."

Eastern laughed. "Nick, if it's anything like it was when I saw it last, 'a little messy' is doing some heavy lifting." She stood. "Come on Sel, let's go see Nick's hovel. I'm sure you'll be horrified." Selkirk flipped a chit onto the table and they left.

They weren't in a hurry, so they took the omnibus down arm to Nick's place. He lived on the third floor of a 5 story apartment block, a couple minutes walk from the center of Laurel Square. On the bottom level of his building was a shop that sold kitschy antiques from Earth (all fake) and in the back had a small video game arcade of vintage games and consoles (all reproductions) They were never rowdy and the shop closed up right after dinner, so Nick never really minded.

Selkirk looked at the building as they walked up. It was anonymous with few windows, and the shop on the ground level had no customers. "Nick... Why do you live here? You're probably paying an arm and a leg for a place that looks like any other of the millions of anonymous apartments on Hyacinth. Yours is just closer to the base."

Nick shrugged. "I got it when I moved here. Then, I didn't know any better. Now?" Nick looked up at it. "I dunno. inertia I guess?"

Selkirk shot a look at Eastern who shrugged her shoulders.

"Nick, if this place is half as bad as Eastern makes it out to be, we're going to have to accelerate getting a place together. You can't live here."

"What? Why? At least look at the inside first." Nick was feeling defensive about his apartment and they haven't even gone inside it yet.

They went into the building. It was completely anonymous. They could have been in any of thousands of apartment buildings on Hyacinth. They went up the stairs and Eastern joked with Selkirk about how Nick lived in a 'Default Apartment' and she giggled.

Nick unlocked the door and Selkirk walked in.

"Oh Ancestors, Nick!" Selkirk coughed "This is a little messy??"

Nick stood in the doorway, mouth open.

His apartment was trashed. All the drawers open and tipped out, desk overturned, everything strewn about.

Eastern peered around Nick's shoulder and laughed. "Nick! What did you do? This isn't normal is it? Why is your place trashed?"

Nick whirled to Selkirk and Eastern. "No! Something happened! This isn't how my place usually is! Someone must've come in and... trashed it."

Selkirk turned back to look at Nick. "But why?"

"I have no idea. The last job I did was boosting the coffin box from Houndstooth and... I got... away clean..." He whirled. "Eastern! Do you still have the coffin box?"

She looked into her shoulder bag. "Yes, it's right here, why Nick?"

Nick gathered Eastern and Selkirk. "The only job i've done in at least two weeks is boost that coffin box. Whoever trashed my place must be looking for it. I think there's more to this than what Jameson is letting on."

Selkirk rolled her eyes. "Nick, it's fucking Jameson Winters. He runs all of Hyacinth that isn't owned by Houndstooth. If you thought things were on the straight and level, that's on you hon." She put her arms on her hips, mimicking a human gesture. "It sure is a good damn thing you're attractive, Nick."

Eastern looked around. "Well, we certainly can't stay here. Nick, grab some clothes, leave everything else. You're moving out."

Nick reached down and picked up a shirt. "But what about-"

Eastern shook her head. "No Nick. We don't know if they bugged anything. Everything here is suspect. I hope none of it was a memento or an antique, because it ain't coming with us."

Sighing, Nick went through the apartment. He really didn't have much to begin with. He kept his pad on him so he didn't have to worry about that, and it's not like he kept stores of currency or valuables here. He stood in his bedroom and looked at a photo on the wall. It was two adults standing stiffly proud, with a small boy, maybe 10 holding a trophy.

"Eastern, what about the photo? It's my only one I have of my parents."

Eastern yelped. Selkirk whirled around. "What is it Eastern?"

"Sorry sorry. Nick used our link to talk and I... forgot we had it." She sounded sheepish.

Selkirk flicked an ear. "You two can chat silently to each other? Don't forget about your girlfriend Selkirk now"

"No no, you're right Sel. We'll try not to use it unless we need to," Nick was sheepish. "I think you'll be able to chat too if you're wearing that coronet Jameson gave you. I just asked Eastern about taking this photo. It's the only one I have of my parents."

Selkirk and Eastern walked up to it and looked. Eastern took it off the wall and flipped it over. She sighed and looked at Nick. "Sorry." Then she threw it on the ground as hard as she could, and it came apart with a tinkle of smashed glass."

"Eastern? What the fuck?" Nick was aghast.

Selkirk reached down and picked up the shattered remains of the photo. She flipped over the frame and gasped.

On the back, under the cardboard, in between the photo and the backing was a wafer thin piece of plastic with lines and miniature components embedded on it. It was no larger than 3cm square.

Eastern gently took it from Selkirk and showed it to Nick. "They know you Nick. They know you're sentimental. Use your Pad to take a picture of the photo. Do it to any other ones you'd want to keep, but the originals have to stay. Like I said, this whole place is compromised. In fact-" Eastern looked at the clothes in his hand. "-put those down, we're going to buy you new threads" She looked around. "Everything here is burned. We can't take it, we shouldn't even touch it."

With a sigh, Nick tossed the clothes back on the floor and took out his pad. He went around the apartment and took a few quick pictures of his photos and mementos. After no time at all he was back in the kitchen. "Okay, I'm done." He turned back to the apartment and looked one more time. "Let's go."

When they came back outside Nick looked at Eastern and Selkirk "So, uh, what do I do about the trashed apartment?"

Selkirk waved a hand dismissively. "We'll call a cleanout service. They're around for when people die or fuck off without getting rid of their stuff. Were you on a lease or month to month?"

"Lease ran out 6 months ago, I was month to month."

Eastern nods. "Good. We just won't pay next month and you'll be free and clear."

Nick looked between the women. It was all too easy to erase any signs of his life. "But, how are we going to pay for it?"

Selkirk grinned. "Our lovely, scary, benefactor is going to pay for it. Jameson gave us a modest expense account. All the better, his people probably know cleaners who are... discrete."

Eastern looked out towards nothing as they walked. "And if Jameson was the one that did it?"

Selkirk flicked her tail. "Then he'll know why we're hiring the cleaners. They didn't get what they were after - I assume - so we should lay low and keep a look out." She sighed. "Our places are probably next - if they haven't been hit already. Come on, I want to go to my place and pack up some stuff before it gets trashed."

The three of them continued on into the morning towards the Metro station.

Figuring time was of the essence, they took the Metro to Selkirk's place. She lived in a K'laxi neighborhood just outside of Tulip square on the top floor of a 10 story apartment building. When they go to her door, Selkirk motioned for silence and her ears flicked. After a moment she slowly put her hand on the pad next to the door. With a chirrup and a click, the door unlocked.

Her apartment was neat and tidy and seemingly untouched. Being careful, they walked around looking, not touching anything. After making sure nobody was inside with them Selkirk looked at Nick and Eastern. "Can you two do something with your fancy new tech and see if there's anything off about my place?"

"Um, maybe?" Eastern thought a moment, and her eyes flashed blue as she accessed her implants. After a moment she said "I don't see any entries logged since you left yesterday Sel, but that doesn't mean they didn't come in any other ways. Nick, see what you can find."

Nick had spent time time reading over the tipsheets that Jameson's people had left him. He leaned his awareness back and accessed the implants. How do search? Hmm. Eastern checked out the door records, what about the windows? Looking, he saw that her security system had window sensors. The logs show no unauthorized access, but at 20:00 last night, they recorded an open and a close in her bedroom. Selkirk was at Eastern's place then.

"Looks like your bedroom window recorded an open and a close around 20 last night Sel. It wasn't marked as unauthorized though.

Selkirk's tair flicked irritatedly. "Looks like the goons that searched my place were less rowdy than the ones that ransacked yours Nick. Still, I think I have to assume my place is out of commission too. Come on."

Selkirk turned on her heel and walked out the door. Shrugging Eastern and Nick followed her.

First / Previous / Next

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #sci fi writing #writing #humans and aliens #jpitha #the k’laxiverse #The Dreams of Hyacinth

52 notes · View notes

bbokkie · 2 years

Text

Highschool! Valorant boys reaction to you going to detention!!

Scenario: Highschool! Valorant boys reacting to you going to detention (and picking you up?)

Characters Included: Chamber, Yoru,

Pt. 1

(hewo guys I’m kinda flopping rn so I’m here with a hopeful banger, I thought of this idea at 11:23 pm last night so let’s hope I stop my reign of flopping with this post. If anyone’s interested, school is okay like it’s actually decent if you like sitting in a classroom with an aircon, 2 electric fans with the windows open for 4 hours.. i should’ve thought of an idea in said 4 hours of sitting in a classroom but i think all i was thinking about in that 4 hours was how hungry i was.)

Chamber - Vincent Fabron

- “Ms. L/n, you have detention after school.” The teacher announced. “Excuse me?” you asked, confuzzled of what you just heard. Your lovely, rich, French boyfriend looked over to you, then to the teacher. “May I ask why?” you placed your pen down. “You were caught cutting classes three times in the past two weeks.” the teacher sighed, putting his book down on the table. You rolled your eyes, cutting class to go to the cafeteria has inevitably come to bite you in the ass.

- At first, Chamber was sort of shocked? But not really. He didn’t really expect you to be in trouble, he was more worried of the fact he planned a cute little (expensive) date with you after school.

- After classes, you sloppily entered an empty classroom where detention would be held. Honestly, you expected this to happen anyways..

- There were about 6 people in the class, all away from each other. You sat down, almost in defeat. You were to sit here for about an hour and think about world war II or something, anything to pass time. Maybe think about what happened to you during April 11, 2017.

- Before almost drifting into sleep, you see someone peek out the window outside the classroom. And, a small spark ignited within you, a small spark of hope. You looked intently, and a familiar figure walked through the door.

- “Ah, Sir. Good afternoon.” your boyfriend said, his hands behind his back.

- I would think he’d pay the teacher to let you go, but guyss.. chamber isn’t like that.. okay.. he’d do it right away.

- “And who might you be?” the teacher in charge asked. Behind his back, a small stack of cash laid comfortably in his hands, the man chuckled before putting the stack in front of him. “A gift, now in return, please let everyone in this room go.” he said with a small smirk. Everyone in the room’s eyes widened and they looked at each other like the person before them had gone mad.

- “I- It’s prohibited to bribe teachers.. you should know that.” the teacher said, mouth still agape and eyes drilled into the cash that sat in front of him. “Both of us know you want it, I only requested something so small.” the male sighed jokingly. “Fine, you guys get out of here.” the teacher smiled greedily, taking the cash into his hands and counting them. Everyone in the room rejoiced, whooping and happy shrieks were heard before quickly leaving the room.

- You were the last to get out, you were in a moment of being impressed that he’d do something like this. “Sorry, my dear. The nearest ATM was farther than expected.” he chuckled. “How much was that?” you asked. “About 2k, teachers will take any cash these days.” he sighed. Then there was a pause of silence. “Oohh!! You care about me sooo much!!” you shrieked, wrapping your arms around his neck as you jumped up and down. “I know. Now, let’s get going. I have a date with you to attend.” he said, softly taking your hand into his.

Yoru - Ryo Kiritani

- When he heard you were getting detention, he scoffed to himself. And then thought if he influenced you to get in trouble and now going to detention.

- I would believe that Ryo has lots of appointments for detention, but he’d just not attend and so the teachers woefully gave up in trying to drag him into detention since if they did they would probably get their jaw smashed into a locker.

- He laughed at your face during lunch when you were going to serve your first time in detention.

- “HAH, YOU ACTUALLY GOT IN TROUBLE.” he cackled. You stayed silent, fuming in anger. “Oh, no.. what’s your mom gonna think about this?” he mocked before laughing again. “Ryo, shut up before I break up with you.” you threatened. His loud cackles then slowly turned into muffled giggles. He curled his hand into a fist before slowly banging it on the table while giggling. “I’m leaving.” you stood up and grabbed your bag. “Don’t.. don’t do it, don’t leave.” he smiled, gripping your hand softly.

- After class, he followed you going into the classroom not before chuckling once more. “Good luck, don’t die of boredom.” he snorted. “Whatever, fuck you.” you walked away.

- He then walked to the teacher’s faculty for some odd reason. “Ms. Emma?” he said, going up to the teacher who was correcting papers. “Ah, what a surprise to see you here Mr. Kiritani.” the teacher dropped her pen. “Yeah, I’m here to serve detention.” he said, then the teacher’s eyes widened. “Say that again?” the teacher said in a whisper. “Uhh.. I’m here to go to detention?” he repeated. “Y- Yeah, of course.. just go into the detention room and- serve your time.” the teacher sighed happily. “’Kay.” the male said plainly before exiting the faculty.

- In the classroom, the door opened revealing an awaited figure. You looked at the door, expecting another “problem child”. “Ryo!?” you shouted. “Shh.” the teacher looked at you from his newspaper. He looked at you with a smirk and sat down beside you. You looked at him with widened eyes. “I wasn’t gone that long, calm down.” he scoffed, placing his bag down. “What demon possessed you to be here..” you whispered. “Just be grateful I’m here.” he grumbled.

(ight this shit ends here, I’m hungry as FUCK bro i don’t have no food, part two is later when i successfully stop myself from starving, also did you guys miss me 😋🥰🤗🥺)

pls don’tflop pls dontflop PLS DONT FLOP.

#valorant x reader #chamber x reader #yoru x reader #valorant headcanons #bokie'sfatass

179 notes · View notes

ssa-atlas-alvez · 2 years

Text

Whumptober Day 6 (Luke x Male reader)

No. 6 PROOF OF LIFE

Ransom Video | “I’ve got a pulse” | Screams from Across the Hall

Warning: kidnapping, ransom video, torture, hot poker, fire poker, fireplace poker, metal rod, burns, burning, clown mask, fear of clowns,

Word count: 1450

@whumptober-archive

You don't value yourself as a particularly valuable member of the team. You were there and occasionally found leads, but you never felt that you were anything special. You were no Agent Reid, after all. But you were useful. Which is why this particular situation was amusing. They had taken you, of all people, thinking it would slow down the investigation. Morons. Honestly. You knew that the team would notice that you’re gone, obviously, but they would still be able to work the case, there’s seven other members of the team. Taking one person out of the equation isn’t going to stall much. You were just worried what was going to happen to you when the unsub realised this.

You looked up, glaring at the unsub as he walked into the room, tripod with a camera attached in hand, “Now, all I need you to do is sit here and look pathetic and useless,” He grinned, patting your cheek, “Perfect, you’ve already got it nailed,”

You glared at him. He had learnt pretty quickly that you had a smart mouth and so he duct taped your mouth shut. Despite your awkward position, you managed to flip him off. The unsub just chuckled, turning to his table, which he had placed his laptop on, ready to connect his camera to the police’s computers. He turned everything on, setting everything up ready to go when he looked up, meeting eyes with you, “Everything's ready,” He chimed.

You swallowed, fear settling in your stomach. The sick bastard had put on a clown mask. “I heard you don’t like clowns. I can change though, if you want.” He smirked, “Just say the word.”

You glared at him, not even attempting to say anything, your mouth had been duct taped. He was just being a bastard. It didn’t matter if you did try to say anything anyway, it wasn’t going to make the unsub change. So, you decided, you would keep your dignity. “Ooh, defiant,” He teased, “I like it.”

He turned back to his computers, mildly adjusting the camera. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket, drawing out a match box. He struck a match against the side of the box, watching it spring to life. He gazed at it for a moment, before throwing it into the fireplace and it roared to life. The unsub absentmindedly placed three fireplace pokers into the flame.

Looking at the camera, checking what was in frame, one more time, he turned it on.

…

Garcia gasped as your face came on the screen, “Sir! Sir this is not good!” She exclaimed, placing her laptop onto the table. Emily and Rossi stared at the screen.

“Hey, have we found anything?” Luke asked, sipping his coffee as he did so. He wasn’t happy when Emily had made him take a break. You had been missing for two days, he hadn’t slept, hadn’t really eaten, he was living off of coffee and vending machine snacks. Thirty six hours in, Emily asked Matt to take Luke back to the hotel and made sure he slept and had something decent to eat. Luke was reluctant, he didn’t need to sleep. He needed to be doing something. He needed to find you. It was driving him crazy not knowing where you were, not knowing if you were okay. His eyes were bloodshot and his body ached but he pushed it aside, craning his neck to look at the laptop screen.

His stomach dropped. You were bloodied and bruised, your hair thick with blood and sweat, clinging to your forehead. “Where is he?” He asked, his voice urgent, he turned to Garcia who was frantically typing on another laptop. “Garcia, where is he?!”

“I- I-” Garcia rushed, “I don’t know! He’s covering his tracks!” Luke dragged his hands through his hair, resting them on the back of his head as he turned to the screen once again.

“Hello there, BAU.” The unsub’s voice made Luke feel sick. Luke watched as you refused to react, simply continuing to glare at the man behind the camera. The unsub sighed, there was a small amount of fumbling before he then came into the view of the camera. He ducked under your arm, standing behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. Luke’s jaw tightened when he saw the unsub was wearing a clown mask.

“(Y/N) has coulrophobia,” He mumbled. Luke felt pride bubble in his stomach as you continued to stare at the camera, not reacting to the unsub’s mask.

“You’re little team member here has been quite the hassle whilst in my… custody, let’s say,” The unsub smirked under his mask, running a hand along your back. Despite your attempts to hold it back, you shivered. “But that’s okay, really, it is. Because he’s going to learn his lesson. He’ll be nice and quiet after this. But first, we need to hear him scream a little bit - otherwise there’s no fun!”

Luke ground his teeth together. The unsub looked a little to the left of the camera before smirking.

“And so, for our first round: human body versus fire poker,” He exclaimed, “Who will win?!” He turned to you, ripping the duct tape off his mouth. “(Y/N), what do you think?”

“Fuck you.”

“Suck a foul mouth for someone in such a dire situation.”

The unsub walks past the camera to somewhere behind it. Your heart feels like it’s in your throat. But you keep staring ahead, at the blinking red light. The team was watching. They were going to get there. Luke was watching. Luke was going to get here.

The unsub grabbed the poker, tightening his grip as he turned to you. “I’m going to need you to take a deep breath.”

You swallowed your fear. Fear wasn’t going to help you now. It would do no good to be scared, you need to take some deep breaths and try to calm down as much as possible. You were not going to break. You were not going to let him win. You keep your eyes focused on the blinking red light, thinking of Luke. The pain is unexpected, despite you expecting it completely. It’s a red hot burning pain and it’s everywhere, not just where the poker was pressed.

Luke shut his eyes as your screams filled his ears. He felt like he was going to be sick. “Garcia?”

“I’m nearly there,” Luke didn’t reply, just nodding.

You hadn’t felt pain like this before. The pain was unimaginable. It was a searing pain spreading throughout. And then the pain was gone and replaced with a long and heavy ache.

The unsub returned the poker to the fire, grabbing the one next to it. “Let’s try that again.”

It takes fifteen minutes for Garcia to locate an address, after five minutes and multiple burns that will scar the unsub gets bored and he stands back for a moment; watching you try and breathe through the pain and then he grabs one of the rods, this one not hot and starts to hit you with it. As Garcia relays the address and sends it to them, Luke’s ordered to stay behind without a gun. And so when they get there, Luke’s standing by the SUV waiting for the message to come over the radio that he’s allowed in. As soon as the radio cracks to life, he’s running in.

Tara and Spencer drag the unsub out, handcuffed. Matt’s the one that unties you, gently lowering your arms, apologising as you wince, JJ’s gently cutting the rope holding your legs to the chair.

You stand, shaking, but refusing to let anyone think any less of you. Luke’s by your side in a matter of seconds - Emily (and Rossi) refusing to let him in until the unsub is clear of the building. His hands are on your shoulders, bringing them close to him as he gently kisses your forehead. “I was so worried baby,” He mutters, you wrap your arms around his waist, ignoring the discomfort it caused. Right now, all you wanted was to be wrapped in his arms. “I’m so sorry,”

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, moving your hand through his hair, his face buried in your shoulder.

“I couldn’t stop it,” You rolled your eyes.

“You aren’t to blame you dimwit,” You muttered, “I won’t have you bully my boyfriend like that, you know.”

Luke bit back a chuckle. “How can I make it up to you then?” He asked with a grin.

“What about a get well kiss?” You chuckled, wincing at the pain that spread through your abdomen.

“You’re such a dork,” He muttered, gently connecting your lips.

106 notes · View notes