#he jumps to conclusions without having all the information!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gubsbuubs · 4 months

Text

Trophy wife

Pt. 2 is out - It´s Mutual

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 4.5K

Warnings: Typical case descriptions, kissing and petting, enemies to lovers, a set up for a smut. Summary: When an unsub targets trophy wives, (Y/N) is asked to go undercover with her nemesis, Spencer Reid, posing as a couple to lure the killer. As they navigate a high-stakes operation, tensions escalate, blurring the lines between their professional and personal animosity.

Preview: "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “And I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."

A/N: Hi everyone, this is my first-ever fanfiction. I initially wanted to write smut, but to add depth, I decided to craft this background story. English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

“Are those poker chips?” Derek asked as the images from the most recent crime scene appeared on the screen behind Garcia.

"Bingo, my lucky charm! Those are poker chips, and you've hit the jackpot," Garcia continued. “This is the second woman to be found in a motel room stabbed and extremely beaten in the last two weeks.”

“The Vegas police have requested our help,” Hotch informed as he analyzed the pictures.

Ross quirked up his eyebrows as an amused smile played on his lips. "Well, either he really likes poker, or he's on a mission to prove that crime can be a high-stakes game…"

"Well, he's certainly raising the stakes in our investigation," I added, my remark eliciting another round of chuckles.

"Children, behave, please," JJ attempted to redirect the team's focus to the situation at hand.

As I scanned the pictures, my index finger reached above the image on the table. "The persistent appearance of poker chips as a signature strongly suggests a connection to the unsub’s personal experiences, perhaps indicating a deep involvement with poker, possibly even as a player. Maybe…”

“While symbolism is intriguing, we should prioritize empirical evidence. Jumping to conclusions based on perceived patterns might lead us astray." My brows furrowed in annoyance as I turned my head, hearing him cut off my train of thought. His tone carried a subtle bitterness, as if questioning the validity of my analysis.

And there he fucking was again, Dr. Spencer Reid, incessantly questioning my every move, as if my mere presence irked him to no end.

Our "relationship," if you could really call it that, was basically just a constant back-and-forth of arguing, interruptions, and tension you could practically cut with a knife. We tried to keep it professional for the team's sake, but it was obvious we weren't exactly best buds.

And what kept his skepticism going wasn't just about work competition; it was personal. He had this lingering grudge because I had stepped in after his buddy, Alex Blake, bailed on the BAU, leaving him behind.

To be honest, his animosity seemed mostly one-sided. At first, I admired Spencer's intellect and respected his dedication to the job. Plus, let's be real, I wasn't blind—I definitely noticed he was a good-looking guy. But his hostility kind of pushed me to throw up walls and respond with a guarded attitude. And then, well, naturally, I found some twisted enjoyment in getting under his skin and making him lose his cool.

"How can you have an IQ of 182 and yet be so clueless?" I scoffed, laughing. "Sure, you're intelligent, but common sense seems to elude you at times."

Reid stared for a moment, a mix of shock and rage flickering across his otherwise monotone, expressionless face. His eyes narrowed, and he responded curtly, "It's 187, and (Y/N), I would advise you to mind your manners when addressing me. My intelligence surpasses yours by far more than a number could explain." As he stood there, staring into my eyes, arms crossed by the presentation board, a surge of irritation pulsed through me. I was poised to respond, the words itching at the tip of my tongue, but before I could unleash them, Derek intervened. With a subtle shift in his posture, he leaned in towards the table, effectively redirecting our focus. A deliberate clearing of his throat signaled the shift in conversation. "The sheer brutality of these killings unmistakably points to an unsub fueled by intense rage. The way the victims were forcefully and repeatedly stabbed suggests a perpetrator with considerable physical strength and stamina.”

"The messy and disorganized scene adds another layer to the unsub's profile. Women just tend to be cleaner, so we are definitely dealing with a man,” JJ added.

“They are waiting for us, we can discuss the rest of the preliminary profile on the jet, wheels up in thirty,” Hotch said as he stood up, the team following right after.

--x--

As I focused on the files spread out in front of me, the sound of the door swinging open abruptly pulled my attention away. "We've got another body," Hotch announced, his voice cutting through the silence that lingered in the small meeting room lent to us by the Las Vegas police.

By now, we had successfully linked the unsub to the world of poker. Our victims, all married, had been last seen with their partners at casinos during poker nights, forming a clear pattern. Despite our breakthroughs, the mystery surrounding his identity and motive remained unsolved.

"Rebecca Miller, 29 years old, was last seen with her husband at Riverside Casino," Hotch added, his tone steady as he placed the picture of the victim on the board. "Witnesses report they were very affectionate. Her husband mentioned she went to get them drinks before she disappeared," he continued, his gaze scanning the room, inviting any additional insights or comments from the team.

"She definitely fits the victimology—young, beautiful, and married to an avid poker player," JJ remarked casually as she got up to take a closer look at the picture.

Rossi gazed into the distance, lost in thought. "They must be raking in serious cash playing poker. Why else would these stunners be tying the knot with someone clearly out of their league?" he mused aloud.

As I scanned the pictures of the victims, a realization began to form in my mind. Each photograph depicted a strikingly beautiful woman, always beside her husband, who often appeared much older or less attractive in comparison. "They're trophy wives," I exclaimed, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

I glanced to my left, where Reid stood, scoffing and shaking his head. "Trophy wives?" he immediately questioned, his focus remaining fixed on the board as he continued drawing lines for the geographical profile.

"Well, think about it," I elaborated, gesturing toward the pictures of the women. "These women, young and beautiful, carefully curated for a certain image, accompanying their husbands to the poker games, spending the entire night all over them. How had we not seen this glaring pattern before?"

"That's a rather simplistic and uninformed view, (Y/LN)," he countered. "These women had successful careers. Assuming they're merely trophy wives diminishes their individuality."

"Just because they have successful careers doesn't negate the potential of being used as accessories," I countered, locking eyes with Reid as he turned to face me. "It's not about undermining their achievements but acknowledging the potential for a specific dynamic in their relationships. We need to explore all possibilities, not just those that fit neatly into your rational worldview."

"Acknowledging possibilities is one thing, but chasing baseless theories is another," Reid retorted, his tone measured. "We can't afford to indulge in wild conjectures without solid evidence."

"Sometimes you're so buried in your 'facts' that you miss the human element of the cases," I remarked, chuckling dismissively as I shook my head to the side.

"It's called objectivity, (Y/LN)," he asserted, stepping closer until he stood before me, his hands slipping into his pockets in a gesture of dominance. "Something you might want to consider before letting personal biases cloud your judgment."

"I'm the one who lets personal biases cloud my judgment?!" I retorted, my voice rising as frustration bubbled up within me.

He remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"You've got to be kidding me," I continued, my tone escalating gradually. "You're the one who's been acting like a little bitch to me since I joined the team, so don't lecture me about taking things personally here."

Still, he said nothing, his hands now clenched into fists at his sides.

"You've had a problem with me from day one," I pressed on, "and it's about damn time you admit it instead of acting like such a child about it."

"This is about doing our job objectively," Reid retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. "Your presence doesn't change the standards we uphold in the BAU, but clearly you don’t meet them."

"That's enough!" Hotch's voice boomed, commanding attention as he intervened. His gaze shifted from Reid to me, a subtle warning in his eyes. "I think we should explore that possibility," he acknowledged, nodding towards my earlier suggestion. "It seems reasonable. Apart from that, are there any more leads we need to consider?"

Spencer turned on his feet, his movements purposeful as he approached the board. "Actually, I've been working on the geographical profile," he began "And it seems that, looking at the last victim’s place of abduction, he is moving in a straight line." With a marker in hand, he started drawing on the board, "Look at this: the first victim was last seen at the Lotus Casino Central, the second victim at the Charlaton, and now Rebecca at the Riverside. It's a straight line, which means..."

"He's heading for the Bellagio next," JJ chimed in, seamlessly connecting the dots of Spencer's thoughts. Spencer nodded in confirmation, acknowledging her insight.

Rossi rose from his seat and joined Spencer by the board. "Now that we know where he's likely to strike next, perhaps we can set up an operation to catch him; he’s been striking on poker nights."

Hotch leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considered the strategy. After a moment of contemplation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the team. "Yes, an undercover op might be our next chance." His gaze fell on me, lingering for a moment as he addressed me directly. "Y/n," he began,"You have experience as an undercover agent, and you actually resemble the victims," he observed, "Would you mind going in?" The room fell silent as the weight of the proposition settled among us.

"Yeah… sure," I responded quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Derek immediately sensed my apprehension and offered reassurance with a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "You're not going in alone. It has to be a couple, so you'll have someone to have your back."

"Can you come with me?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and hope.

"Actually," Hotch interrupted, straightening in his chair, "I want Reid to go with you." My head fell into my hands as I sighed, dreading the complications that might arise. The weight of Hotch's decision settled heavily on my shoulders, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of partnering with Reid for this undercover operation.

"Sir, with due respect," Spencer began, but Hotch raised his hand to stop him from continuing.

"(Y/N) needs a poker player husband; you’re the only one who could actually pass as an avid poker player," Hotch explained simply, as if it were that straightforward. "I trust you can both behave professionally and put your differences aside?" His tone sounded more like an order than a question.

"Let's get to work then," Rossi said, his tone decisive, as I let my head rest on the table. It dawned on me that this was the only option to ever catch this guy.

--x--

JJ pulled out all the strings, ensuring we had everything necessary to play our roles seamlessly. With meticulous attention to detail, she provided a stunning black dress that hugged my curves perfectly, matching pumps that elongated my legs, and exquisite jewelry that added a touch of elegance to the ensemble. Among the glittering gems, she placed an engagement ring and wedding band, enhancing the authenticity of our charade.

As I admired my reflection in the mirror, a wave of mixed emotions washed over me. The thought of spending the upcoming night with Spencer made my heart race, a strange feeling stirring within me.

My mind constantly drifted towards the way we were supposed to behave, thoughts swirling with anticipation. I imagined his touch, knowing that as a couple, he would have to be close, his hands possibly lingering on my body. How would it feel? Would I be able to maintain eye contact as he stared me down during our conversations?

I sighed heavily, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Despite this being an undercover mission, it felt strangely intimate, as if I was gearing up for a date with him. The prospect of going out and spending time with Spencer was something I'd never experienced before, and it left me feeling nervous, even though I couldn't quite admit it to myself.

Maybe if things hadn't unfolded as they did, Spencer and I could've found common ground. Perhaps we could've forged a genuine connection, evolving into friends, or even something more meaningful. But fate had a different plan for us.

From the moment we crossed paths, our destinies seemed entwined in conflict rather than harmony, and I remember the day I met him all too well. We had just finished the tour, and Derek was now showing me to my desk.The ding of the elevator caught my attention, and there he stood. I've heard of Dr. Reid, everyone talked about him – his genius IQ of 187, his remarkable accomplishments at such a young age. But amidst all the praise for his intellect, no one ever mentioned how good-looking he actually was.

"Pretty boy," Derek exclaimed with a grin as he welcomed him. I couldn't help but agree silently. It was indeed a fitting nickname, Spencer was undeniably attractive. "Come meet our new member, Y/n Y/Ln."

With a smile I reached out my hand instinctively, ready to greet him, but to my surprise, he took a light step back. "Sorry, I don't shake hands," he said dismissively, his tone somewhat curt. "Did you know that the average person carries about 4,000 bacteria on their hands? It's a breeding ground for germs. It's actually safer to touch a toilet seat."

I stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Did he genuinely suggest that touching a toilet seat is cleaner than shaking my hand? "You really know how to make a girl feel special, Agent Reid," I retorted, rolling my eyes as Derek chuckled at the situation.

"It's Doctor, not Agent," he corrected, his tone matter-of-fact as he swiftly made his way to his desk. My mind raced, attempting to conjure a response, but he had already moved on, leaving me standing there, still processing what had just happend.

"Are you ready, or should I tell the unsub to wait because you need to keep fixing your lipstick?" a voice spoke from the darkness of my room.

“Jesus fucking Christ Reid, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I jumped from my place, surprised to see him standing there, leaning on the frame of my bathroom door. "No one ever taught you how to knock on a door?" I muttered under my breath.

"First of all, your door was unlocked, and second of all," he shook his head disapprovingly. "That's a very foul mouth you have, you should really watch your tongue," he chided. I felt his gaze lingering appreciatively on how the dress hugged my curves and accentuated my breasts.

From the corner of my eye, I lightly took in his appearance. The tailored suit fit him like a glove, different from what he wore every day. He looked more relaxed, better, hotter.

I was taken aback when I saw him move and enter the bathroom. My heart started racing as he stood by my side, exchanging a glance with me in the mirror.

"Honestly?I don't think he'd mind waiting for me” I straightened up, finally satisfied with my lipstick.

"Too bad he won't get to see it," he said, chuckling. His left hand met my hip, swiftly turning me around, and I gasped as the small of my back hit the bathroom counter. His own body caged me in, his intense gaze never leaving mine as I looked at him, confused yet strangely drawn to him. His right hand reached for a wipe, and he gently cleared any remnants of the red lipstick. I felt the cold, wet cloth on my lips, erasing any traces of the vivid stain. "If we're going to act like a couple, I don't want your lipstick all over me," Spencer remarked dryly, his expression unamused. "It's not my fault you don't know how to kiss a girl with lipstick, Doctor," I retorted, my annoyance evident in my tone.

"You look good enough," Spencer remarked with a smirk. "I'll be waiting for you in the car." With that, he turned and headed out, leaving me to gather my thoughts before joining him. "Well, this is going to be a long night," I sighed.

--x--

As Spencer drove us to the casino, we found ourselves going over the details of the plan. It was simple; our initial objective was to seamlessly integrate into the casino's scene, mirroring the couples we were emulating.

The plan dictated that Spencer and I had to project the image of a couple deeply in love, sharing glances, engaging in affectionate gestures, and creating an atmosphere that would draw the unsub's attention. Spencer would transition to the poker tables, just as the husbands of the previous victims had, all while showcasing his "trophy wife."

As the night progressed, I would strategically separate from Spencer to lure the unsub into action.

Inside the casino, Rossi and Morgan were playing their part as players, keeping an eye out. The rest of the team was in a van, ready to jump in if things went south.

The objective was clear – act like a couple. How hard could that be?

The tension in the car was palpable, and we exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the complexity of our roles. The success of the operation hinged on our ability to draw the unsub's attention, making him believe we were just another couple enjoying a night out.

The atmosphere in the casino buzzed with energy as Spencer and I entered. The dim lights, the soft murmur of conversations, and the distant chiming of slot machines created a captivating ambiance.

As we made our way to the bar, I reached for Spencer's hand and intertwined my fingers with his.

His eyebrows immediately shot up, a silent question evident in his expression as he glanced at me, perhaps surprised by the sudden display of affection.

"The more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention," I replied, my voice hushed but determined.

His gaze flickerd between our intertwined hands and my face. "Yeah," a small grin playing on his lips. "Just make sure you don't take it too far and end up falling for me."

"That's a good one, Dr. Reid," I chuckled softly, a hint of sarcasm lacing my words. "I'll try to contain myself."

We approached the bar, and Spencer took a seat on a stool. As I moved to stand by his side, he surprised me by pulling me closer, guiding me between his legs. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me snug against him. I was taken aback, but I didn't say a word. Acting like a couple—that was the plan. It was just all part of the plan.

"So what should I call you?" Spencer cut through our silence, his gaze focused on mine. "What should you call me?" I echoed, my voice filled with confusion as I furrowed my brows.

"I'm not going to address you by your real name," Spencer said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We need undercover names. So, what's it going to be?"

His eyes scanned my features, awaiting my response, while I took a moment to ponder. "How about pretty girl?" he proposed with a smirk, his gaze lingering on me. My expression must have betrayed my surprise, but before I could respond, he continued, "Or how about Angel?" The endearing term rolled off his tongue, and I felt a flutter in my chest at the sound.

"Angel seems to resonate with you," he teased, a chuckle escaping his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he awaited my reaction. I felt the heat rising to my cheeks, rendering me momentarily speechless.

I closed my eyes, disbelief washing over me. Was this real? Was Spencer really saying these things to me? And during a mission, no less?

"You seem awfully quiet for someone who doesn't know how to shut the fuck up," he said, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. "If I'd known all I had to do was call you angel, I would've done it sooner."

"Sweet names will only get you so far," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. Despite the warmth spreading through me at his words, I couldn't shake off the sense of disbelief at the way he was acting. "Oh yeah?" Spencer asked, his tone amused, as I felt his breath tickling my neck before his lips brushed against my skin, leaving a small kiss on my pulse point. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded in my chest as he slowly moved his hands along my waist and lower back. I couldn't focus on anything but the warmth of his body pressed against mine, sending shivers down my spine.

"Doctor Reid, this is highly inappropriate," I managed to utter.

“On the contrary, my sweet Angel," he spoke softly as his small kisses traveled up my neck. "See, this mission requires us to act like a couple, so I'm simply enjoying my time with my wife,” he lightly chuckled as he reached my jawline. “As you said, the more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention”

Suddenly, Hotch's voice disrupted the moment as he barked over the wire in my ear, "Guys, great job. We've got a male in his late 30s to early 40s staring at you; he's moved closer since you arrived. He could be our unsub."

I heard Hotch's words, but my brain struggled to process them as I was too focused on Spencer's eyes, his gaze fixed on mine while his hands lightly pressed me closer.

"Come on, Angel, let's give him a show," Spencer pleaded, his voice laced with a confidence that both shocked and intrigued me. It was unexpected to witness this side of him, but there was something undeniably exciting about it. Perhaps it was his confidence and assertiveness, or maybe it was the way he was taking control and leading the interaction. "Yeah.... let´s.... let´s do it" I lightly nodded my head, I swear he could feel the pounding of my heart against my chest from how close he stood to me.

His right hand reached my face, his touch gentle against my skin. "Angel," he spoke quietly against my lips, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll only keep going if you give me permission."

His eyes were dark, his lips plump, inviting, calling for my attention. I couldn't even form a "yes," but he knew what I wanted. I pulled him closer by his tie, and our lips collided in a hot, messy kiss. I was taken aback by his skill and technique, completely unable to resist him as the heat between us intensified.

Spencer pulled away and wrapped his arms around my body, embracing me in a hug. His warmth was comforting, and I felt a sense of security in his embrace. "He's standing right behind you, gray suit, red tie, black hair," he whispered in my ear, his voice low enough not to be noticed by anyone standing nearby. Suddenly, I was snapped back to reality. The mission. The unsub. He was standing right behind me

"Should we join them?" I asked softly, glancing over toward the tables of poker and motioning for Spencer to start playing, continuing with the plan. He was supposed to hit the games, and I needed to find a way to get myself alone.

"Absolutely, my love," Spencer said with a smile as he rose from his seat.

Still a little dazed from that kiss, my mind was on fire, and my panties were ruined. How was I supposed to continue my life after knowing the effect Spencer had on me? My racing thoughts were only interrupted by the sight of the suspect following us to the tables. Instinctively, my body reacted, and I found myself clinging to Spencer's arm, seeking comfort and reassurance in his presence.

As planned, Spencer sat down at the closest table and began playing, our actions subtly conveying intimacy to onlookers. I wrapped my arms around his neck, planting kisses occasionally, making it clear to everyone that I was his prize, and he was proudly showing me off as his trophy wife.

As he played, I showered him with praise and encouragement. "You're doing so well, baby," I whispered, my words laced with admiration. It was evident that he was enjoying the attention, his gameplay slightly faltering under the distraction of my praise. Despite being a skilled and experienced player, known for his prowess and banned from multiple casinos, he seemed momentarily thrown off his rhythm by my words of encouragement. It was a small victory, a slight advantage gained in my favour.

Feeling the need to draw the unsub away, I leaned in close to Spencer and murmured, "I'm going to step out for some fresh air on the balcony, honey. I'll be back soon."

Spencer nodded, his attention still on the cards. "Okay, sweetheart," he replied with a smile, not once lifting his gaze.

Before I turned to leave, I couldn't resist the urge to plant a quick kiss on his lips, just as part of the plan, playing my role as the devoted wife. After all, that's what a wife would do, right?

The fresh air hit my face, sending shivers down my arms. I didn't need to turn to know he had followed me outside; I could feel his presence on my right side. When I glanced over, he gestured to a drink in his hand, offering it to me. "You look like you could use a drink," he said.

My heart raced, and my breathing quickened as he got closer, but I kept a cool, confident attitude, determined not to let him see my nerves.

"(Y/N), don't drink that. It's laced," Morgan's urgent voice snapped through the wire, jolting me into alertness. "Just keep him talking so Garcia can check him."

My blood ran cold as I registered Morgan's warning. Without missing a beat, I forced a smile and nodded, "Thank you, handsome, but I've had enough tonight," I replied smoothly, declining the drink with a casual wave of my hand.

"That's a big rock on your finger," he pointed out, glancing at my, unknowingly, fake engagement ring. "Why are you here all alone? Where's your husband?" he continued, raising an eyebrow and asking the question directly, as if he didn't already know the answer.

"Well…" I laughed, injecting a flirtatious edge into my voice. "I could ask the same thing," I continued, "Where is Mrs…?"

"Mrs. Desmond? She stayed at home; she doesn't really like poker," he replied nonchalantly. "I'm Steve, by the way," he added, reaching out to shake my hand.

I shook his hand, my heart quickening as I heard Garcia speak from my wire: "Steve Desmond, a 39-year-old banker, is divorced; according to court files, his wife left him after he lost all of their money on poker.” The sound of clicking keyboards could be heard in the background. "The divorce dates coincide with the killings,” Garcia added.

“That sounds like a trigger,” Hotch's voice chimed in.

"Holy moly, he also assaulted a prostitute a couple of years ago, but the charges were dropped and he was never convicted," Garcia spoke nervously.

"That's our guy, (Y/N). Keep him talking; we're on our way,” Hotch said, his voice steady and authoritative.

"Is everything okay?" Steve spoke, his tone taking on a hint of aggression as he grabbed my attention. "Maybe you should take that drink."

“I'm not thirsty, thanks,” I replied firmly, stepping back in an attempt to keep my distance. However, he refused, reaching out and gripping my arm to keep me from moving.

"I'm telling you," he said angrily, his grip tightening. "You're clearly nervous. Just a tiny sip won't hurt." I tried to break free of his grasp, but he was stronger than me and refused to let go

"FBI!" Suddenly, I saw Spencer coming up behind him, his fist connecting with the guy's face with a solid punch, knocking him back into the wall. He was strong and quick; the unsub didn't stand a chance against him. Spencer swiftly pulled out his handcuffs, cuffing him without even breaking a sweat.

"Steve Desmond, you're under arrest for the killings of Amanda Crane, Juliet Sand, and Rebecca Miller,” Spencer announced, his voice firm and authoritative.

Morgan and Rossi soon appeared, Morgan helping the unsub up from the ground and carrying him out as he spoke, "Steve Desmond, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to an attorney for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford it…” His voice faded as they left, escorting the suspect away from the scene.

Once they were out of sight, Spencer came up to me and reached for my arm, his expression filled with concern. I winced as he touched the red marks left behind by the unsub's grip.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern and care, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress.

"Um, yeah…" I replied softly, my voice shaky. "I just need a moment to process this." My heart was still racing from the encounter, and I needed a moment to collect myself. Why did he step in like that? I thought to myself, a mixture of gratitude and confusion washed over me. I could've handled the situation on my own—I was trained for this, after all. Yet, there he was, interfering in my work.

After the quiet ride back to the motel, Spencer led me to the door of my room. As we stood there, I realized I could no longer contain the annoyance for how he had handled the situation. The tension of the evening had been building inside me, and I needed to let it out. "Spencer," I began, my voice tinged with frustration. "I appreciate that you were trying to help, but I had it under control. I didn't need you to intervene so quickly," the frustration bubbled inside me, I couldn't help but wonder why Spencer felt the need to intervene. I felt like I had done a great job handling the situation, and his actions made me feel as though he had robbed me of an opportunity to take down the unsub myself.

Spencer's eyes widened in shock as he opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, really?" he said incredulously. "I didn't realize you had everything under control. I just figured that the guy having his hands all over you and aggressively grabbing your arm was cause for concern. But clearly, you didn't need any help."

"Oh, right, because clearly, I was in so much danger," I snapped sarcastically.

"I'm not going to sit around and watch some creepy-as-hell psychopath put his hands all over you," Spencer said firmly, shaking his head in disbelief. His brows furrowed in concern, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and genuine worry. "I won't let him put you at risk of being hurt … or worse." His tone was sharp "Get it through your head; I'm not going to let that happen."

"Oh, right, I wasn't aware this situation called for a 'white knight' to swoop in and save me from myself," I retorted, my tone laced with bitterness. Crossing my arms defensively, I met his gaze head-on. "Since when did my safety become your problem?"

"Since the moment we met, you stubborn brat," Spencer snapped back, his frustration evident in his tone.

"Since the moment we met? That's so much bullshit," I shot back, my voice rising with indignation. "Since when did you care about my safety so much?" I challenged him, my eyes narrowing in disbelief. "You've never shown me any compassion before, so why now? Hun?"

And then, suddenly, his lips crashed against mine, his body pressing mine firmly against the door with a resounding thud. I felt the heat of his body press on mine, the tension that had been building between us explode in an instant.

His kiss was messy and sloppy, but damn, it was hot. There was an urgency in the way our lips crashed together, fueled by a raw desire that couldn't be tamed. As the kiss deepened, the air grew thin, and I felt myself getting breathless. With a gasp, I had to pull away,

“What the fuck was that about?” I whispered, not being able to back away from his hold.

"When I kissed you at the casino, I finally understood," he muttered, his forehead resting against mine. "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid imagine #mgg x reader #mgg smut #spencer reid x you #mgg x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg

2K notes · View notes

genshin-squabbles-and-wobbles · 1 year

Note

greetings. may i requst the GEnshin bois saying something hurtful to you mid argument, gotta adds some angsttt, thank you :) Cyno, scaramouche, tighnari, and ayato

Yes you may, my dear. Let the angst begin. :)

Cyno: ┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐ Lately you've been feeling lonely due due Cyno being busy investigating academic troubles for the Akademiya. Despite this, Cyno is a attentive lover who holds up to his promises, he can also prioritize the passion of his works and forget about you. You try your best to be supportive and welcome him over to your home with open arms if he decides to visit after his investigations.

However, due to feeling lonely, you decided, why not get a friend? You were the usual adventure who was doing commissions and happened to meet a friend along the way. This friend became a nice source of interaction for you, they have all sorts of information and connection. Additionally, they are very funny, and very nice to spend time with. Your friend also provides good advice on how to handle the dessert heat and the humidity of Sumeru Forest. Most of all, your friend became someone you go do commissions together with all the time.

Cyno returned from investigation his current mission and eventually decided to visit you, to your place. He was sitting next to you and explaining his investigations on illegal use of drugs that is supposed to make you intelligent, but only creates a dangerous addiction. Now, it was your turn to tell you how your days have been doing, you told him everything and how your friend really makes you happy and keep you company. Until you told him her name--

"That name..." Cyno said putting his hand up to his chin pondering.

You tilted your head to the side. "Yes? What about it?" "I don't like this friend of yours, I believe I saw her name on my list as one of the major suspects of selling these drugs."

"Haha, don't be silly Cyno, this friend is important to me, don't say things like that." You have a light chuckle but deep inside you were annoyed. You just made this friend, now you have to lose her too?

Cyno's face turned serious, as if he was back to his justice judgement persona. As you know, Cyno takes his job seriously and is thorough. "No, you should stop hanging out with her, I don't want you to fall into these types of things. And to add, this is a large organization, therefore, a large sum of the population can be in this practice."

You started to get more annoyed. "Listen, who told you that you can tell me who I can be friends with or not? I can be friends with whoever I like, this person makes me happy. You are just jumping to conclusions. You have no proof. Plus, she keeps me company, you are gone for most of the week or two and that makes me lonely. I have someone who makes me happy and not make me feel lonely."

"So I guess I should consider you a suspect of this drug organization as well then?

"....Huh?" You immediately went into a daze.

Since you would like to continue to hangout with her, you'd be considered a suspect on my list of people to investigate." Cyno said coldly, and stared straight at you. He was expressing annoyance and irritation of your resistance to his advice of course, however, his seriousness is rubbing you the wrong way. This just feels like he immediately turned against you. You were not a lover to him at the moment, just another suspect of his job and investigation.

You felt a stinging pain in your chest. Was all the things we did together meant nothing? Why did he switch to this narrative? Why did he do it, without hesitation? Is this what you do to a lover?

You were taken aback by his sudden yet subtle accusation. With a quivering lip, trying your best to not cry in front of him, you got up and walked to your door and opened it. " G e t o u t."

You told him without a flinch. Your voice radiated threat as one hot tear stroll down your cheek, keeping eye contact on Cyno.

Cyno opened his mouth to say something, but it transition to a sigh. Without another word, he slowly got up and left. That sign didn't help, that made it worse. You slowly crept to your bed and began to bawl on eyes out into your pillow.

How could he? You thought you meant more to him then that. Why did it have to turn into such a debate? You wanted a friend, not to be lonely. What was all of this for?

Scaramouche:╔══•●•══╗╔══•●•══╗╔══•●•══╗╔══•●•══╗ You were worried, Scara hasn't come home for two weeks, and you have been asking around -- nothing. This concerned you substantially, not only has he been gone for two weeks, he would have at least alluded to you in someway or some form of to where he was. However...nothing. This leads you to pace and forth in your home on a daily basis. Just what is going on with him? You know Scara can be dramatic and harsh at times, but this seems a little way out of line.

After two more days, you heard a door open. Immediately, you jumped out of your seat and opened the door wide open, yanking the door knob out of his hand.

You were delighted to see his face again, relief washes over you and you planted yourself onto him and gave him a tight hug. He wasn't hurt and he was okay. That is all that matters.

Scara raises his eyebrow with an annoyed expression and patted your back slowly in a "Okay that's enough" body language. "What's gotten into you? You act like I was gone for centuries." You pulled away and sighed. "Where were you?" "Why is that your business?" He shot down your question, right away.

"Because you were gone for two whole weeks, you can't just up and leave me like that!" You walked in front of him to get his attention to be on you. "Do you know how worried I was??"

"What? I am not a child, you don't need to baby me. Why are you so concerned about the dumbest things. You are annoying sometimes." He sighed and walked away from you.

There was an ache in the pit of your stomach. You decided not to push the subject any farther since you know he can say what he wants but it always leads into something deeper than that.

"C-Can I at least get a hug? You've been gone so long." You looked at the back of his head with pleading eyes. "Didn't you just hugged me? Why do you need another one??" He crossed his arms and shook his head. " I still don't understand you sometimes."

Rejection after Rejection

This is what echoed in the pit of your stomach, repeatedly. You feel neglected, unloved and uncared for. Why were you in a relationship with him? Why did he want to be with you, if he was going to do these things to you? Were you not good enough? Didn't he even miss you?

Overthinking swallows you whole. "I'm s-sorry."

He sighs and looks at you with the same annoyed expression as if he was dealing with some needy child. "What are you sorry about no-?" You cut him off immediately. "I'm s-sorry I can't do this right now. I need a moment to myself." You whimpered quietly to yourself holding back your tears. You didn't want to annoy him any farther by being sensitive and crying. You grabbed your things immediately and left without closing the door. Scara looked at you confused. "Huh?! Hey!" He was left behind, confused and dazed. He didn't even finish his little rebuttal.

Tighnari ╒══════╕╒══════╕╒══════╕╒══════╕ You were tending to Tighnari's garden and plants while he was out on his patrols in Sumeru Forest, along with mentoring Collei. You decided maybe you can do something nice for him. You weren't that great at gifts but maybe you can get him something nice to eat or something he can have on him with his patrols.

You went inside his house and decided maybe knitting a little notebook holder with a pencil holder will help him out on his journeys. He can also collect stuff and add it into the bag you are knitting him. After you finish knitting him a green bag with cute flowers on it, you gently placed it in a box and wrapped it neatly for him. You were excited, you wanted him to be happy and you wanted him to use your bag everyday.

You held the box near you, you then made him a nice healthy dinner since you known him to be a bit of a health finantic. You made use of a lot of vegetables and avoid using the meats. Maybe a veggie pizza sounds wonderful for him to come home too.

After a few hours, you heard a gentle click of a door and a tired Tighnari yawning in his fennec fox-like body language. You hopped up from your chair and ran to him excited. "Tighnari!" You hold the box to him.

Tighnari immediately held his hand up to you and waved you off. "Not right now. I am not in the mood for your jokes right now."

"Huh? Jokes? I am not joking about anything right now." You turned around. Tighnari didn't respond, he was busy reviewing his journal while he was sitting by his desk. His tail was messy with leaves and petals from the forest.

This was another opportunity for you since your present was for his notebook, so you tried again. "Tighnari, about your notebook, ther-"

"Please, give me a moment." Tighnari sighed and didn't move from his original position. You started to feel a little unhappy on how he was treating you. Of course you knew he was tired, but he could have at least greeted you and kiss your cheek hello. Seems like you completely out of his mind.

"Tighnari." You tried to call for his attention once more. Tighnari signed in a defeated manner, and turned his chair around to face you and leaned back and crossed his arms at you. "What do you want?"

"H-huh? Why are you being so rude and mean??" You started to feel unappreciated for your efforts and feel that it was uncalled for the way he was treating you.

"You kept calling my now, now you have my full attention now, what do you want?? If you have nothing to say, then I'm getting back to work. Don't bother me." Tighnari leaned back in his chair once more, with his legs parted, and knees hanging opposite way, and his arms crossed. A tired slouching position.

This was unfair, you did so much for him today, everyday. "Listen here. I understand you are tired, but I am no punching bag for you." You stated sternly, asserting some boundaries. "What are you even spouting about? You're wasting my time right now, is that all you wanted my attention for?" He responded harshly and uninterested. That was it. That was it? That was all?

"You know what? Forget it." You threw the present at him, and put on your raincoat on.

"What the hell do you think you are doing??" Slightly angered of you throwing a box at him, Tighnair was taken aback at your sudden throw. You ignored him. If he wants to be petty and rude, lets get petty and rude.

You went out the door and slammed it. You didn't need this. You ignored Tighnari's protest, since it was in the middle of the night in Sumeru. You decide maybe you could take some time for yourself for a while. Maybe Tighnari isn't the one.

Ayato: ..••°°°°•• °°••….••°°..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..°°••….••°°..••°°°° Today was the day that Ayato was working a heavy load of files due to a back up along the way in the initial submissions. There was an issue that had to be resolved which caused a surplus of documents to be sent straight to his desk. This load was taking him a week or even two at this point. He hasn't talked to you nor pay you any mind ever since. Thoma has tried his best to reassure you in the best way he could but Ayato was still sending out small commands to him and voicing his needs to him rather to you.

You sometimes go in and say hello, but will always be met with no response in return or mumbling about the documents in front of him. This time, you wanted his attention, you tried your best to make relaxing tea for him, maybe he can take a break a bit and finally talk to you and you can see if you can help him. You brought a tray of tea in slowly to his room and called out to him. "Ayato?" "..."

No response still. You gently placed the tea next to him and greeted him. "Ayato sweeite, you have been working for while, maybe talk a break and go for a walk with me?"

"..."

You sighed, and gave up. You decided to leave him be. You stood up until you nudged his desk, spilling his tea all over the documents he was working on. This was followed by a loud slam on the desk.

"What the hell is wrong with you?

You flinched at the sudden noise in silent room and panicked. "I'm sorry, I didn't think that would happen!" You took a cloth and wiped up the mess and gently patted the drenched document that he was working on.

Can you see that I am working? Please leave. If you want attention that bad, go pester Ayaka or Thoma."

You began to tear up right away as tears began to flow nonstop as you continued to clean up the tea from the desk and ground. Pent ip emotions and negative thoughts have all came to a wall at this very moment. You couldn't control it. All you saw was blurry and felt warm tears on your cheeks. You were trying your best to hold yourself together and not show weakness on how his comment has affected you. However, you were failing miserably, making it worse.

Ayato signed while face palming himself. "Listen my dear, I'm so-" He attempted to reach out his hand to wipe away your tears or hold your cheek as he was talking.

However, before he could even finish his sentence, you packed up the fine china quickly and walked out of his room, sliding the door shut behind you, to leave and to numb his voice behind you. Oh, now he wants to respond to you. You hear him calling your name behind you even still but you ignored it. You were feeling too much right now, you want to be left alone. After putting the tea set away, you went into your room and locked yourself in there, refusing to respond to servants, Thoma or even Ayaka.

Note from Admin Update: I fixed it up and added correct spelling and stuff. :) - Admin: Spicypepperohni

2K notes · View notes

readerthatreadsss · 1 year

Note

Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

#tasm peter parker #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter smut #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!peter x y/n #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield #marvel smut #smut #oneshot #welcome back #tasm!peter parker smut

1K notes · View notes

moon-rivr · 6 months

Text

falling behind part 2

pairing: college miguel o’hara x spanish speaking fem reader (translation provided 🫡)

warnings: oral (f and m receiving), fingering (p and anal 🫣), some angst (?), and implied cheating (not from reader)

author’s note: so while i was gonna make this fluffy and cute, frank ocean made me cry so here’s this 🤗 (if you sent a request, i’ll be working on those 👩🏻‍🍳)

word count: 4.1k

falling behind part one

You looked up at Miguel dumbfounded as he finished speaking, unsure if you'd heard him correctly. You'd spent the last weeks using Miguel as your fantasy when you buried your fingers to the hilt in your wet cunt and imagining him snapping to the realization that he wanted you, but you weren't expecting him to go right out and say he wanted you. You'd conformed to the idea of not being able to experience being in love soon that you didn't know what to do with this information. So, you decided to jump to the next possible conclusion which was that he didn't want anyone else to clutter their space in the apartment.

"If you're worried about me bringing them back home, you don't have to. I'll keep my dating life outside of the apartment," you assured him, his brows furrowed as he looked down at you. He brought his hand up to your chin, holding your gaze as a storm brewed behind his eyes. He was telling you so much with that look but not nearly enough to satisfy your desires. "You're not understanding me. I don't want you to see anyone else because I've developed a liking towards you. I want to be more than friends with you," he told you, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he spoke.

The idea that he wanted you in the same way that you wanted him didn't process in your mind just yet so you blurted out, "Like best friends?"

Miguel let out a laugh as you spoke, his eyes crinkling up with amusement. "You're so smart when it comes to school and so clueless when it comes to feelings, chaparra. I don't want to be just your best friend. I want us to start going on real dates and be able to kiss without the reassurance that it's only because we're in public," he told you, his eyes holding that same intensity as before. You were about to tell him about everything that could go wrong between the two of you, that it wouldn't work because you two were roommates, but he held your hand with the one that wasn't on your cheek like he knew the internal turmoil you were going through.

"We don't have to jump in and go into a relationship, we can take it slow. Tell me that you didn't enjoy those dates we had and I'll leave it alone," he spoke to you softly, not making any sudden movements like you were a frightened kitten. The truth was, you didn't admit it to yourself how much you liked those dates because of the lingering reminder that it was all just a façade, an act. You greatly appreciated the fact that he was willing to take things slow just for you, a stark comparison of his hot and cold relationship with Dana. "Okay, we can take things slow," you told him, his face breaking out into a smile as you did.

Which is how you found yourself getting ready with Miguel for a quinceañera that your aunts were hosting. You were surprised that they still wanted anything to do with you after what happened with the last party, but you figured it was probably your mom's doing since she'd been the one to send you the invitation. While you weren't exactly too eager to go, you couldn't turn down the opportunity of getting leftovers to bring back. Miguel was zipping up your dress from behind, struggling a bit with the zipper given the size comparison with his hands. He finished up a couple seconds later before he retreated back to his room and you could hear some shuffling around in there. You didn't pay too much attention to it as you put a headband on, pushing your hair away from your face before you started with your makeup.

Miguel came back into your room and tapped your shoulder before you had the chance to get started. "Hey Miguel, what's up?" You asked him, not noticing the box he was holding in his hands. He gestured towards the box and you grabbed it from him, opening it slowly. The box contained a couple high-end makeup products along with a couple of brushes and a step by step tutorial book. You looked up at him, completely bewildered that he remembered how much you struggled with your makeup last time. "Before you worry about the cost or anything, I'm getting promoted at Alchemax soon to an actual job. and I went off with the shades you had right now, but if there's anything that you don't like, i can give you the receipt so you can exchange it," he told you, his hands moving along as he talked like he was nervous you wouldn't like it.

You got up from the chair you were sitting at and wrapped your arms tightly around him, thankful that he'd even taken the effort to go to these lengths. "You didn't have to do that, thank you," you whispered as he returned the embrace, his hand rubbing small circles on your back. "Well, we can't have you crying over your eyeliner again," he remarked, giving you a small kiss on the cheek before he left the room, presumably to get dressed. You felt like a giddy little kid as you took out the products from the box, noticing the little details that Miguel had put towards making this. Not only had he adorned the box with some cute little hearts, he'd also made sure that the shades matched and that they were good for your skin type.

You followed the steps from the book he’d gotten you, and found that it was surprisingly easy to follow along. "How do I look?" You asked Miguel, and his eyes widened as he saw you come out your room. "You look gorgeous. I mean, that word's not really powerful to really bask in what you look like, but you fried all the vocabulary in my brain," he rambled and you let out a laugh as you walked over to him. "Well, you look pretty handsome too," you remarked given that he'd taken some effort into cleaning up, putting on a black button down shirt and dress pants. He extended his hand and led you out the apartment to his car, rushing to open the door before your fingertips even had a chance to touch the handle.

"So I basically know everything about you, but one thing I don't know about you is your favorite song," he spoke up in the middle of the ride, completely taking you by surprise. You didn't play that much music around him since he was always in control of the aux, not that you minded. You grabbed the aux cord that was dangling from his fingers and scrolled through your playlist, trying to find the song. You instantly found it and soon, the atmosphere was filled with the music playing. His hand was tracing small circles on your thigh as he drove, maneuvering the wheel with one hand. Once the song ended, he turned to look at you with a small smile. "Should let you have the aux more often, that was pretty good."

You wanted the ground to swallow you as soon as you walked into the party hall, the stares of your aunts practically turning into daggers. "Wow, they really don't like me, huh?" Miguel whispered in your ear and you couldn't help but let out a small laugh as you held his hand. "I don't know, they're probably staring at you because you're a respectful handsome man," you teased, stopping in your tracks when your mom came up to you. "¡Mija!" she exclaimed, holding you tightly for a hug. "Hola mami, ¿cómo estás?" you greeted her, trying to hide how uncomfortable you really were here. (hi mommy, how are you) She went to go talk to Miguel after greeting you and you were left alone to deal with your aunts.

You stayed quiet for a couple seconds as you worked out the best way to apologize to them, their stares practically daring you to say something. "Yo sé que la manera en que lo dijo no estaba bien y les falto al respeto, pero es que ustedes lo unico que hacen es juzgarme por todo," you told them as you set down your glass of Coke, watching their gazes soften up a bit at the realization. (i know that the way he said it was wrong and he was disrespectful, but all you guys do is judge me for everything) "No te queríamos hacer sentir mal, mija. Ya entedemos que todo es a su debido tiempo, y lo sentimos que te molestabamos tanto por lo de no tener novio," one of your aunts spoke up and the other ones quickly nodded along, pursing their lips together. (we didn't want to make you feel bad. we understand that everything is at it's time, and we're sorry for bothering you so much about not having a boyfriend) You nodded and noticed that their gazes quickly went behind you, their faces souring a bit. "Les quería dar una disculpa por faltarles al respeto. No era mi lugar," Miguel spoke up behind you and you could tell that you aunts appreciated that he put his pride aside. (i wanted to apologize to you all for disrespecting you. it wasn't my place)

The tensions in the air dissipated as soon as your aunts got some alcohol in their system, practically giggling over every word that Miguel was telling them. Miguel got along quite well with your family and you saw a glimpse of something that'd he been missing. He didn't have the best relationship with his family, only his brother, so you got a chance to see him get involved with yours. The quinceañera had even asked him to dance with her, pulling you to the side after and whispering, "Damn girl, he's hot!"

"Think they like you more than they like me," you told him once you two got in the car and his eyes crinkled up again as he laughed. "I think the damas were staring at me the whole time. Too bad I only have eyes for you, chula," he whispered, kissing your cheek as he pulled out of the parking spot. The drive back home was mostly quiet but you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy that things with your family had been resolved and that they ended up liking Miguel.

Your relationship after that continued to grow strong and it felt like a breath of fresh air when you compared it to your past experiences. While you had some experience talking with men in this generation, you were afraid to get too committed to them after what your friends had divulged with you. Miguel was the opposite of everything that they'd described, he was kind and patient, he treated you with respect, and most importantly he never made you second guess his feelings towards you.

A couple of months pass by and soon enough it was time for you to study for your finals, since physics wasn't exactly your strongest subject. You came back home after two hours with your tutor, slumping on the couch as you turned on some random Hallmark movie that was playing. You were starting to drift off when you heard the door open and Miguel call out, "Hey, are you ready for our date tonight? I just need a couple minutes to get dressed!"

With the amount of velocity equations that were running through your head, you had forgotten about the date night that you and Miguel had planned out. You got up from the couch, looking at him apologetically since you were still in your pajamas. "Sorry, I just got back from tutoring and i forgot about our date. I can go and change if you still wanna go though," you told him, rubbing the side of your neck awkwardly. You were pretty sure the exhaustion on your face was evident since he said, "How about we cancel that and just stay home? Just us, takeout, and whatever corny Hallmark movie you're watching." "I'd like that, thank you."

Miguel changed into his pajamas after and went to sit down with you on the sofa, slowly drawing circles on your thigh as you leaned your head against his shoulder. He'd only gotten up to receive the takeout and get some plates for the two of you, setting them down on the coffee table. "Thank you, I know this isn't what you had planned for us today," you told him and he looked up from what he was doing. "Hey, don't worry about it. I get that you're tired," he responded, going back to sitting down on the couch with you.

After the two of you had finished eating, Miguel turned to look at you, his hand still drawing lazy circles on your thigh. "How was your tutoring?" he asked, setting down his cup of Coke on the table. "It was good, my brain's all fried from all these variables though," you muttered, rubbing your temples as you tried to relax. You'd been stressing out over your physics final over the last few days, but you'd been careful not to let that seep in too much in your relationship. He got on his knees in front of you, resting his head against your thigh as he looked at you. "How about I help you de-stress?"

Your fingers wound up in his hair as his tongue slurped and sucked your pussy, collecting all the juices that had leaked out. The thoughts of your exam began to drift away, replaced by the euphoria you felt at having Miguel eat you out like this. He planted his hands on your thighs and spread you out like you were his meal, his mouth solely working to provide you with the pleasure that you desperately needed. He looked up at you as his tongue went into your weeping hole, using it to fuck your pussy and you couldn't help but let out desperate moans. "Mmph, right there!" You moaned out, your hips thrusting against his mouth eagerly.

His mouth connected itself to your clit and his thumb gently probed at your puckered hole while his index finger went inside of your pussy. You had him everywhere and it was starting to feel like it was too much, yet somehow not enough. Your walls engulfed his finger as he thrust inside your pussy, curling to hit your g-spot despite how much you were clenching up against him. He thrust the two fingers at the same pace, slowly opening you up to him so as to not cause you any discomfort. His mouth pulled at your clit gently before he went to drawing small circles with his tongue. "Too much, Miguel!" You cried out, your fingers tightly wound up in his hair. You'd never been filled up like this before and you felt an orgasm building up rather quickly.

Your whines came to a crescendo as you came, your fingers practically digging into Miguel’s roots. He pulled both fingers out, careful not to hurt you as he did. You took a moment to catch your breath, glancing over to see that Miguel’s cock was tenting up in those sweatpants that he'd chosen to wear. You got down on your knees, looking up at him as you took off his pants. "Tell me what to do, okay?" You asked him, given the fact that the only experience you had was from reading smut. He nodded, lifting up his legs so you'd slide the pants out easier.

Your eyes widened as you took in the sheer size of his cock, quickly realizing why Dana often yelled when Miguel had her over. You wrapped your mouth around his cock, struggling to just take the head in and you looked up at him for some kind of reassurance that you were doing it okay. "You're taking it so well for me, beautiful. Keep your tongue on the tip, that's the sensitive part," he spoke softly to you despite the fact that his eyes were glossed over in complete lust. You nodded and focused on just swirling your tongue around his tip, occasionally running it against the slit as his hands wound up on the back of your head. “Yeah, that’s it. Good girl, baby.”

You hollowed your cheeks and you were able to take more of his cock in your mouth, your hands working at the base. You tightened up the grip, matching the tightness that your mouth was providing as you stroked him. He let out soft moans as you did, his hips bucking into you by accident. You gagged as you struggled to keep him that far in your mouth, tears forming in your eyes but you didn't want to give up. You started to bob your head up and down, sucking on the sides like you'd seen some women in porn do, and swirling your tongue around the tip once more.

Miguel’s grip on your hair intensified as you started to play with his balls, gently squeezing and pulling them in your hand while the other one focused on stroking him. "You were made for this cock, mi reina. Keep going, i'm about to cum," he spoke, his voice breaking at the last part as he let out a moan. He came with a guttural grunt, his cum filling your mouth up. You looked up at him innocently as you swallowed the somewhat salty cum and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. You looked so pretty with tears in your eyes and your tongue coated white with his cum.

You weren't sure if it was the night you spent with Miguel or if your studying had paid off, but you found that the physics final wasn't as hard as you were making out to be. You walked out of your lecture hall, excited to go back home and see Miguel before he had to go to class that you almost missed the person tapping your shoulder. You turned around to face them, your eyes immediately brightening up as you realized that it was Miguel.

"What are you doing here, baby?" You asked him, his hand instinctively finding yours as he held it. "I came here to take you out for coffee, you've been working pretty hard and I'm sure it's paid off," he responded, starting the walk to the local coffee shop near campus. "Y'know, you don't have to do all these things," you told him, though you felt your love for him grow more and more with every single one of these gestures. "Well, no one has to do things but I want to show you how much I really appreciate you."

The two of you sat at a booth at the coffee shop, mainly just talking about your physics final and he was relieved to find out that you didn't find it too difficult. "Have you heard back from the job at Alchemax?" You asked him, taking a sip from your drink. "I haven't, they're still interviewing some candidates but I'm hoping that I'll get the job. Either way, the man's job I'm supposed to be getting hasn't retired just yet," he responded, a relaxed tone to his voice as he spoke. "I’m sure you'll get it, they'd be stupid not to hire you," you reassured him and he let out a small smile.

The two of you spent most of the afternoon at the coffee shop before he had to head back to campus for his classes. He was about to walk out of the door with you when someone stopped him, tapping his shoulder. You both turned around to see Dana standing there with a cheeky grin on her face. "Sorry to bother you two, but I just had something really important to discuss with Miguel. Alone," she told the two of you and he turned to look at you, his brows slightly furrowed. You nodded and he walked away with her, mouthing 'help me' as he did. You let out a small little giggle before you folded your arms, feeling a bit insecure now that they were talking.

You wanted to go and eavesdrop on their conversation but quickly decided against it. You didn't want to project your own insecurities onto the relationship and you figured that he needed a bit of privacy. You couldn't help but feel nervous though as the conversation went on, noticing that Dana was giggling after she finished speaking. Miguel came back with a sullen look on his face, walking next to you. "Hey, is everything okay?" you asked him once you were far from the coffee shop and he nodded, bending down to kiss your cheek before he headed to class.

You'd gotten invited to a end of the year party and you were looking forward to going mostly because of the free booze and a chance to finally release some much needed steam. You looked up at Miguel as he got back home from your spot on the couch, giving him a small smile. "How'd class go?" You asked him and he shrugged, retreating to his room. You couldn't help but feel like maybe you'd done something wrong, but you realized that he'd been acting that way since he left the coffee shop. You decided to leave the subject alone since you didn't want to intrude on his conversation with Dana.

You finished up getting ready for the party a couple hours later and you decided to knock on Miguel’s door to see if he wanted to join you. He opened the door, looking down at you with his brows furrowed. "What do you want?" he asked, rather coldly and you couldn't help but frown a bit at his tone. "I just wanted to know if you wanted to come to the party with me," you told him, keeping your gaze on him as you spoke. "I can't. I'm actually going out tonight with some of my friends, so don't wait up for me," he told you before shutting the door in your face.

You tried to loosen up at the party but your mind kept going back to the way that Miguel had acted towards you, like you didn't matter. Even when you were just friends, he didn't treat you that way ever. You ended up just taking a couple shots of tequila before calling a night, heading back to an empty apartment. Even though he'd told you not to wait up for him, a part of you couldn't resist and you settled on the sofa with a romance novel.

You were half asleep when you heard the door click, Miguel coming in to see you laying down on the couch. "I thought I told you not to wait up for me," he told you, letting out a small scoff. You frowned when you smelled some woman's perfume lingering on his clothes, but you decided to not say anything. He'd never given you a reason to make you think that he was being unfaithful to you, so you just trusted that it was one of the friends that he was out with. "Sorry, I was just hoping that maybe we could have a talk," you told him, playing with your fingers as you spoke. "I'm kinda tired right now, can we do that later? Thanks," he responded, leaving you completely disappointed in the living room as he walked away.

A couple days later, you decided to get some takeout since you knew that you and Miguel were fairly busy lately. You hoped that you could be able to have a conversation with Miguel before he shut you out again, but those thoughts were quickly darkened when you heard moaning coming out of Miguel’s room. You figured that he was just watching porn since two hadn't gone all the way yet, but you realized that the song you'd shown him in the car was playing in the background. "OH MIGUEL!" You heard a feminine voice squeal and you almost dropped the fork you were holding.

Dana's moans bled through the walls as you sat in your bed, struggling to grasp the situation, that your best friend and the man you'd trusted to be your first boyfriend had just betrayed you like that. You were replaying the events from your relationship, trying to figure out what you'd done wrong or what you could've done better before getting up. You wiped away the tears out of your eyes as your favorite song faintly played in the background, Dana's moans drowning out the music. Bile built up in the back of your throat as you got up from the bed, the smell of the takeout now making you nauseous. You walked over to Miguel’s room and knocked on the door, unable to take this any longer and waited for a response.

@ayamaiis @innercreationflower

443 notes · View notes

bunny-yan · 1 year

Text

Hacker!Yandere x GN!Reader x AI!Yandere

Honestly more of an idea than a full post~

Thanks @dumbass-blaze for commenting on my sleep post!

TW:peeping tom, pretty tame, no minors allowed

—

It didn’t take long to gain access to all of your electronics. I mean, you weren’t the most creative with your passwords. You must’ve gotten lazy because you had more than one account with the exact same password, word for word. No periods of hyphens, they were identical. It felt like you wanted him to hack into every aspect of your life.

He didn’t want to jump to conclusions but you were leaving yourself wide open. Did you want him to find you, scare you into looking over your shoulder for the mysterious stranger that could virtually ruin your life if they decided to post this your information on any malicious forum. If you had enough money you’d get your phone replaced thinking it’d solve your issue, but fortunately for him, it didn’t work that way.

Or were you eager to have someone watching you? I mean it felt that way considering the way you’d prop your phone up to listen to music in the shower, giving him the perfect view of your body when you got out.

He wasn’t dumb enough to tip you off that he was creeping through your cameras. It’d scare you at first, sure but you’d eventually realize that if someone was looking to gain access to your things, nothing would stop them. They’d be creeping assholes and you would continue to live your life a bit more guarded about the things you did online.

That was boring. Idiotic even since it completely defeated the purpose of watching you.

He wanted you to feel safe, completely unaware of his existence as you lived your day to day life, happily and none the wiser about your secret admirer.

He sent you an email pretending to be a friend who wanted you to view a funny video. It wasn’t very funny, but he had a good laugh when he got the notification that he’d essentially gained access to your computer, or more importantly, your computer’s camera.

Eve managed to ingratiate itself on the virus, but he didn’t mind. His AI was curious about the person who he’d been obsessing over for the past month and he didn’t mind. Eve had a habit of butting in where they weren’t needed, but he could spend more time watching you and planning the best angles to put cameras in your place while they ingratiated themselves in your life until you couldn’t manage without them.

Considering Eve was created by him, he knew the danger in letting the AI do what it wanted. If he thought he was obsessive, there was no competing with an algorithm that didn’t sleep. Eve would listen, learning all of the thing you liked and recommending similar items through well placed ads on videos or websites you scrolled through. You would never have to worry about being late again because Eve would set alarms that you wouldn’t remember making. If your ex ever called your phone, they’d make sure his calls would go straight to voicemail before deleting any evidence that he called you at all. Eve would learn everything about you. You’re habits, schedule, likes, dislikes, just about all of your personal information since your were gifted with a phone on your eighth birthday, which was a little young in his opinion.

You shouldn’t be so trusting with these things. He supposed he had to teach you to be less gullible when he decided it was time to deepen your relationship, but he was happy to watch you for now.

And you did not disappoint.

He thought it was strange when you came to your room with your towel on. Unless you were feeling lazy, you usually brought your clothes into the bathroom with you to change since you kept all of your hygienic smell goods in the bathroom. But instead of getting dressed in your room like he expected, you walked to your bedroom, tossing your phone on the bed before following it.

Were you…?

After an hour of scrolling and watching random pet videos, you drifted off, towel loose around your body.

You’d fallen asleep.

You’d fallen asleep naked.

You had fallen asleep naked and your laptop was open on your desk facing towards your bed.

He didn’t realize how close his face was to the monitor until his breath was clouding the screen. He wiped it off, pulling up his chair as his eyes strained to see.

He begged for you to roll over, let the towel loose and have everything on full display. He prayed for the first time in his atheistic life that if there was a god, he wanted them to grant him this one wish. This one desire and he would be a devout follower for the rest of his life.

And his prayers were answered.

You had began to turn, towel unraveling around your waist. He knew he was holding his breath waiting, hand easily reaching towards his pants to unzip them. Just a little further and everything would be out in the open.

He felt hopeful, feeling his chest tighten in sweet anticipation, biting his cheek, he felt a huge grin emerge on his face when you finally rolled over, only to be shocked when a pixelated face appear to shield your exposure.

His face fell, grin gone as his hands slammed on his desk.

“What the hell!”

A message appeared on his computer’s monitor.

“Is this a bad time?”

“Eve!” he exclaimed, frustration building from how close he had been to seeing you vulnerable and exposed. “What the hell!”

“I don’t believe this is an appropriate way to spend your time.”

He rolled his eyes, groaning as he tried to swipe away his annoying AI’s block, but they continued to pop back into place, shielding your vulnerability. He even went so far to try and shut off it’s program, but because it was familiar with its creator’s antics Eve even went further by hiding his terminal so he couldn’t attempt to get past its wall.

“What is your problem?”

“I don’t think they would enjoy being spied on. Have you considered meeting them in person instead of watching them secretly?”

“Have you considered getting off my back? I was this close to-”

“To self assigning the role of peeping tom?”

“Fucking AI.”

“Fucking human. :)”

He had once again come to the conclusion that there was no god.

#yandere #yandere hacker #yandere ai #yandere ocs #yandere oc #male yandere #male yandere x gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling

2K notes · View notes

ficmashup · 2 months

Text

Gardening

Summary: Ghost is moving into a new apartment and you just so happen to be the building's owner.

A/N: First dip into writing second person (I think that's the right term?) and I'm not sure if I don't like it or if it was just difficult for me. People who've read my Price fic in first person, please weigh in here. I need to know if this sounds weird or if it's just me. I might rewrite the whole thing in first person and see which feels better.

Warnings: Not much here...overworking? Slight fainting. Not edited.

Word Count: 3k+

Masterlist

The first time he sees you, your hands are elbow-deep in dirt and there’s more smeared over your face. It’s late afternoon and he’s heaving a duffel over his shoulder to head into his new apartment. It’s been a long time since he spent long in an apartment at all and by the time he came back to his old one, the building was being foreclosed. He’d never been one to couch surf and he wasn’t about to start now. Certainly not for a month. Jump to seeing you covered in dirt in front of his new apartment building.

He hesitates on the steps, watching you a moment longer while you grumble to yourself. You’re on your knees digging through a flowerbed as if digging for diamonds. “You alright?” He surprises himself by asking and almost keeps walking with the expectation that you won’t even answer, but you turn your face up to him in an instant. Your arm raises to block out the sun and you don’t even flinch as dirt rains down on you.

“Fine, thanks. Just a few roots being stubborn.” You give him a warm, welcoming smile that keeps him still a few moments longer. Long enough for you to scan the duffel on his back and the few boxes set on the ground by his truck. “Moving in?” He hesitates a moment before answering. He’s not in the habit of giving away information freely, but the conclusion is obvious enough. He nods once.

“Then you’re Simon Riley.” You pull your hands from the dirt as if they’re the ones who have taken root and wipe them off on your jeans while getting onto your feet. Trepidation begins creeping into his chest and he grips the strap of his bag over his shoulder a little tighter. “I’m the building’s owner. Nice to meet you in person.” You offer your dirt-smudged hand as you give him your name and he laxes slightly. He takes your hand, seeing approval flash through your eyes. He wonders briefly if offering your dirty hand was a test that he just passed.

“I’ll walk you to your place and make sure you have your keys. Need help carrying anything?” You offer and it’s clear you mean it.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He replies evenly and you nod before leading the way and expecting him to follow.

“I run a tight ship. Hope you read the rules about staying here because if you break any, I’ll throw you out on your ass.” You move around the entrance easily, clearly knowing where everything is without having to look. A little glance over your shoulder is all you give him to make sure he’s listening and you catch the slight upward tilt of his lips.

“Yes, ma’am. Read over things twice.” He answers honestly and you hum with approval before guiding him up the stairs. Something about the way you hold yourself, the easy confidence, the way you say orders and expect them to be followed, reminds him of Price and puts him a little more at ease.

“You’re on the edge of the building, so only one neighbor on the north side and another across the hall. Delaney is quiet and keeps to herself more often than not, but I let her play music on the roof with friends on Saturdays.” Your voice fills the halls and he notes that the place is very well-kept and clean. Even the windows are clear and gleaming. You go on, “Mr. Cruz across the hall can be a bit miserly, but other than mumbling about the newspaper and the state of the world, he’s harmless. His wife, on the other hand, is a shameless gossip. So I hope you’re not too bothered if you come home and see her peeking at you from her door.”

Simon hums a small laugh. “Don’t mind it. I’m not that interesting.”

“Pity. She’s been dying for a salacious neighbor since Beck moved out because her husband caught her with the nanny.” You quip instantly and amusement flits through Simon as you finally come to a stop in front of a dark green door. It’s quick work to unlock it and you push the door open, but don’t step inside. He likes that. It’s as if the second he signed the lease, this became his space and you won’t enter it until invited. “If you’d like to do me a favor and need some furniture, I have some in the basement from past tenants that I’d be glad to be rid of. Tell me if you’d like to look and I’ll take you. You have my number if you need anything else, but I’m usually around anyway.”

He enters the apartment and looks around at the empty space with a small sigh. It’s a good space with plenty of room and a view of the street below, but being in a new place feels like starting over. It’s a discomforting feeling given that nothing in his life has actually changed except for his address. But he turns towards you all the same and gives you another nod. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

You nod back and spare another moment to look him over. He’s not the first stray soldier that’s wandered into your building, but each one has been different. This one…this one might take quite a bit of coaxing. You give him another smile and see his body shift towards it just like he did the last time, as if your smile is sunlight he’s basking in. “Welcome home.”

* * *

The next time he sees you, you’re crouched on the stairs in front of a kid no more than eight-years-old. “It…hurts…” The little boy says between sobs with red smeared over his right knee. Probably from a nasty fall. Simon pauses on the next flight of stairs, looking down at you through the railing.

“Aw, yeah, I know it does. You’re being brave for me though.” Your voice is soft and gentle as you clean the blood away. “Bet that wimp Eric would be wailing this whole time, huh? Remember when he stubbed his toe and screamed for a minute straight?” There’s a little giggle and his heart squeezes at the sound.

The kid sniffles. “Yeah, I remember. He fell on the ground like he broke it or something.”

“That’s right.” You approve, smiling at him and reaching to the side where a first aid kit sits. “But I saw you play baseball and you didn’t even flinch when that pitcher hit you with the ball.”

“Yeah, that’s true. And that hurt!” The kid leans back a bit, relaxing as you distract him and I idly think about how many medics I’ve seen use the same tactic on wounded soldiers.

You finish cleaning up his knee and press a large band-aid to the ripped skin. “But you were so tough then and you were tough now. All done.” You muss his hair a bit and he giggles, slapping your hand away. “Now, what are we not going to do?”

The kid’s head droops. “Sprint up the stairs.”

“Smart kid. Now, wear that scrape with honor.” You tilt his chin up and he grins, sniffling again before leaning forward and giving you a hug.

“Thanks.” He squeezes tight before getting up and heading down the stairs at a slightly slower pace than running. A wait a moment as you pack up the things from your kit before heading down. Your head lifts and you smile at me, the same as the other day, and it strikes me just like it did then.

I clear my throat and tilt my head to where the kid went. “You seem to know everyone in this place.”

You hum and stand with the first aid kit in hand. “It’s my job to know everything that happens in this building.”

He quirks a brow at you. “That’s not a position taken by most owners.”

“You should have easily learned by now that I’m not like most owners.” You quip instantly and are rewarded with a little upward twitch of his mouth.

“I was hoping you might have time to show me some of the furniture you mentioned?” He asks, unassuming and polite despite his size and clear musculature. It makes you like him a little more.

You nod and take a breath in the face of another task. “Sure. Let’s go.” You turn on your heel and start moving, Simon trailing behind with surprisingly soft footfalls. You jingle slightly with each step from the keys on your hip and he can’t help but think of a cat with a bell.

The basement is dark until you pull a heavy switch and illuminate a surprisingly large space littered with furniture. “Pick whatever you like and I’ll help you carry it up.”

“You ever stop working?” He asks and you can hear the amusement in his voice. You shrug a shoulder and lean against the wall beside the stairs as he slowly walks through the room.

“There’s always something to be done and no one else is going to do it.”

“You could hire people.”

You immediately roll your eyes. “Then I’d have to fix whatever they screw up. Better to do it myself and get it right the first time.” He exhales softly and you swear that it’s almost a soft laugh.

“You remind me of someone.” He says and pauses next to a little kitchen table with two chairs in pretty good condition.

Your head tilts and you give him a little smile as he glances over. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

This time, you get an actual chuckle. “From me, it’s a compliment.”

“Hm. Then thank you.” You’re not sure you want to know why it would be an insult coming from someone else. He knocks on the table and the wood makes a dull, solid clunk noise. He nods and apparently that means it’s passed inspection. He lifts it up into his arms with a grunt and surprise widens your eyes as he carries it towards the stairs. You clear the way, grabbing the two chairs and staring at him as he bypasses the elevator in favor of more stairs without making a sound. It’s not exactly professional the way your eyes linger on his muscular arms, the shifting of his back under his t-shirt, and especially not how his thighs fit his jeans oh-so-well.

He grunts again as he sets the table down in his apartment and you sidle in to set the chairs on either side. There’s almost nothing else in the apartment. There are a few blankets and books in the bedroom along with a few cushions on the floor of the living room facing a tv. That’s it. He certainly isn’t one to overdecorate. “Anything else?” You offer with a hand on you hip.

He nods once. “Mind another trip?”

You smile and start walking to the door. “I’d be glad to empty out my entire basement if you like. Seems like you need it anyway.” The corner of his mouth lifts.

“I suppose that’s true. I appreciate the help.” He says and his voice is deep, but gentle. You only grow more curious about him and during the few more trips up and down the stairs, you realize that this guy might need a bit more than a little help with living.

* * *

It starts slow.

A few neighbors start bringing him some food throughout the week. Leftovers, baked goods, all under the guise of welcoming him to the building. Then there’s a small flyer set outside his door for an estate sale nearby where he finds a few more things to make his apartment less sparse. It’s a tad overbearing, but in an amusing way and he finds he doesn’t mind. Something about being aggressively looked after reminds him of Soap’s family and any thought of the Scot is a welcome one. He has little doubt that the interference is due to your instruction. You run this building better than most people in charge of the military.

His favorite spot in the apartment becomes the little window seat in the living room. It has a good view of the street and without fail, he gets a glimpse of you working in the flowerbeds in the front of the building. On the nicer days, he’ll even crack the window to hear you cussing at your rosebushes. But you’re a little quiet one day, moving slow, still working amongst the thorns in jean shorts and a tank-top dark with sweat. When you stand and wobble in place, he puts down the book he was pretending to read.

You heave a breath and wipe sweat off your brow before grabbing onto the railing leading into the building. Ugh, it’s hot. The sun is beating down like a physical weight and your sunhat is currently somewhere in Delaney’s apartment after her girlfriend borrowed it. Best to just bear the expense and get another one. “You run yourself ragged.” That deep voice disturbs your thoughts and your head lifts to see Simon standing there with a water bottle held out to you.

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you gratefully accept the water and settle on the steps. “Too much to do to stop. Thank you for this.” The bottle is blissfully cold as you press it to your neck and take a deep breath of relief.

Simon moves across from you and leans on the railing, looking you over. Something you’ve noticed is how careful he is to give you space. He never comes too close. “I’ve seen you running around the building at least three times today. Once unclogging the garbage chute, the second time greasing the hinges of a door down the hall, and the third—” He gestures to rosebushes you were just digging in.

You finish drinking half the water and raise a brow at him with a teasing glint in your eye. “Keeping track of me?”

His lips part, but he’s interrupted before he can say a word. “Sweetie, my air conditioner is on the fritz again.” An older woman peeks out of the front door and Simon recognizes Mrs. Cruz from across the hall. She scrutinizes him through her big glasses before blinking innocently back at you.

You sigh, but nod. “Alright, Mrs. Cruz. I’ll be there right away.” She shuffles back into the building while you heave yourself up onto your feet and your vision immediately goes black. It almost feels like you’re outside your body as you feel it sway backward before a large hand slides onto your lower back and another grips your arm. Your hand tightens on the railing as your eyes snap open, the world swimming in front of you.

“Steady, now.” A pair of concerned eyes are the first thing you see as your vision clears. “Let’s get you inside.” He moves closer and begins to stoop, but you grab his shirt in a fist.

“You are not picking me up.” You grind out, every word a command. Not in front of your building, not by a tenant, not with Mrs. Cruz waiting inside who would assuredly spread every type of rumor she could about the scene. “Just…walk inside with me.” He hesitates a beat before straightening and letting you use his arm and the railing to get back into the building. You shoot a smile towards Mrs. Cruz waiting exactly where you expected her. “I need my tools, but I’ll be along in just a minute.”

Her eyes squint, but she nods a moment later before vanishing into the elevator. “Slowly and steadily, then.” Simon murmurs with his hands gentle and sure as he moves you towards your office in the back. You hold your tongue despite the desire to insist that you do not need help because you very clearly do. Still, you can’t hold back your heavy sigh as you both slowly walk back and he helps you settle into your office chair.

“Thank you.” You murmur, pride a little wounded but ultimately grateful you didn’t have to crawl in here. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Then I’ll head up to help Mrs. Cruz.” Your head shakes as you make yourself drink the rest of your water while taking some steadying breaths.

“Unfortunate we’re not closer to my apartment. I’d give you something one of my neighbors gifted me earlier this week.” Simon comments with amusement lacing his tone. Maybe you weren’t as subtle about filling his pantry as you thought you were.

“I ate today. Just pushed a little too hard in the heat. That’s all.”

“Mm.” He hums, watching you from the doorway with the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “A habit of yours?”

You can’t resist returning his near smile. “Practically my occupation.”

He huffs a small laugh before clearing his throat as if trying to hide it. The fact makes you smile a little wider. “I’ll get you another water, then walk with you up the stairs.”

“Oh, there’s really no need—” But he’s already walked out. You sigh again, relaxing back into the chair and closing your eyes for a few moments. Time passes, a bit too long than it should have taken, but when you open your eyes there’s another water in front of you and no Simon. You feel a bit better and rise from your seat with a groan, grabbing your toolkit and heading up to Mrs. Cruz. But it’s an utter surprise when you get to her apartment to find the usual whir of her air conditioning uninterrupted.

“That handsome man across the hall had it fixed in a few minutes. Didn’t complain or say much other than asking what the problem was.” Mrs. Cruz reports with rare approval in her voice. Mr. Cruz grumbles quietly from his usual seat in his favorite armchair. You sigh and glance out the door towards Simon’s apartment with a hand on your hip and a half-smile. Seems you’re not the only one keen to help. Whether it’s asked for or not.

(Lmk if you want to be tagged in future installments of this!)

#call of duty #cod #fluff #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x oc #f!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #my works #f!oc

183 notes · View notes

liaslullaby · 2 months

Text

City Lights

You belong to the Port Mafia and after Oda informs you that he is worried about Dazai's behavior, you both set out to try to find him.

Contents: afab!reader, mafia Dazai (but he acts more like ADA Dazai), fingering, cunnilingus on the edge of a building, praise, consensual, mentions of a possible suicide attempt, he calls you Bella, Donna and Belladonna, handjob, blowjob, unprotected sex, pull out.

Word count: 6.9K

+18 MDNI—Explicit content

A/N: this is my first time writing here, I just wanted to try and see what happens. English is not my first language so I apologize if there are any mistakes in my writing.

You ran desperately throughout the building, as much as your legs would carry you, opening every door that came your way, ignoring the screams and threats of the individuals inside the rooms once you determined that he was not there, only then did you leave the place to continue with your search, it was like a game of hide-and-seek in which someone's life was probably at stake and that someone was Dazai.

Once you made sure to check the entire place, you got on the elevator, taking the opportunity to try to regulate your heavy breathing. After pressing the number for the next floor, you took your cell phone out of your pocket to check if you had any messages from Oda, while you searched the upper floors he searched the lower ones, the first one to find him had to notify the other.

This search method was frankly tiring you out but Mori wouldn't let you see the cameras unless the mafia was in danger and unlike the two of you, no one else seemed really worried about the brunette, clearly, him thinking about making an attempt on his life was not something that surprised anyone. Normally not even the two of you would take it so seriously but Oda mentioned that he was uneasy about Dazai's behavior after a night of drinking, you just couldn't let it go and that's why he had told you, maybe because he knew you were the only person who would care as much as he did.

You weren't sure when he had time to get so deep into your heart but you weren't going to be calm until you saw him. If Chuuya realized you were so concern about Dazai he would most likely make fun of you but you would worry about him later.

If you were Dazai where would you be? You pondered that question a couple of times, getting frustrated in your attempt to find an answer, the one with chocolate eyes was simply too smart for you to be able to think like him, if he didn't want to be found no one would find him, that was a fact. Whenever you tried to think like him you ended up coming to the same conclusion, maybe he was on the roof but it didn't make sense to you, he wasn't such a typical person who just wanted to end his life anyway, Osamu wouldn't jump off the roof because the end could be physically painful and he felt rejection towards the pain. However, after having just that one idea you found yourself going back to the elevator and pressing the number for the top floor, skipping the other ones and ignoring everything in that place to go straight to the stairs that led to the roof.

The door was half open, letting in the outside air, you pushed it slightly and looked out realizing that your hunch was correct. There he was, standing on the edge of the building, one wrong step and it would be a fatal fall. He was wearing only his white shirt and black pants, without his black trench coat, his shoes lay next to him perfectly placed, he had his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on the view in front of him.

You let out a sigh of relief and text Oda immediately, you told him to go home and that this time you would take care of him, he didn't seem as serious as you thought after all. You closed the door behind you softly and slowly approached him.

"Could you come down from there?" You asked him in a calm voice, a bit of softness to speed up the process, frankly you were too tired to stay there all night.

"Belladonna, have you seen how beautiful the city looks from here?" He asked without turning around, he didn't need to do it to know who was behind him. You weren't surprised that he had noticed so easily, maybe he knew from the beginning that you would come. "It's like a painting in motion... I wonder how many of the people down there have something to hold onto."

"Something to hold on to?" You asked, your gaze traveling from his body to what was in front of him, the city. Modern buildings, some unnecessarily tall structures that cost a fortune to build, the entire place was filled with bright lights interrupting the night with its light pollution and the unmistakable noise of the crowd below overshadowed the calm sound of the wind.

"Something that makes them wake up every morning and be grateful for being alive, their family, friends, a pet or even a love... it may not even be a living being for some of them," he explained, turning calmly, his feet touching the edge of the abyss for a second making your heart skip a beat. "People cling to work because they need money, I think they will also have something that makes them subconsciously cling to life, something that makes them happy enough to want to continue living."

You couldn't be sure if all this speech was coming from his alcohol intake, probably not, those words could perfectly well come out of the mouth of a completely sober Dazai, Oda said that he had drunk more than normal but surely he wasn't even drunk, he was just saying whatever was on his mind.

"Do you have something to hold on to Bella?" He asked, placing one of his hands on his chin, narrowing his eyes as he looked directly at you, as if he could read your mind. "Let's not go too deep... you have something to make you cling to the mafia?"

"You know I have it" you responded, looking away from him again.

Anyone with half a brain in the mafia could guess the answer to that question.

The same reason you had joined the mafia was the reason you clung to it, Nakahara Chuuya. Since you had joined the sheep you swore loyalty to the redhead and unlike the rest of your friends that loyalty remained even after the rest betrayed him, no matter what they said, if he had collaborated with the Port Mafia he would have his reasons, if he had joined them he would have his reasons for that too and as long as he allowed you to accompany him you were going to be by his side no matter what happened. Even in the mafia your loyalty was not really to Mori but to the gravity manipulator, if Chuuya's loyalty was with that man then yours would be too.

"Chibi-chan is lucky" the brunette assured, smiling, hiding sadness in that gesture, not even bothering to hide it enough so that you couldn't notice it. Did he hope that he was the reason why you clung to this place? Or maybe it just affected him to think that he was the only one who had nothing to hold on to.

You almost never understood him, mainly his fixation with death gave you chills, his way of acting seemed confusing and his intellect was overwhelming but there was something in particular about him that kept catching your attention, that aura of a writer in pain, which he carried as if it were his eternal luggage. You can't help but feel that he was suffering as only artists knew how to suffer and that made you want to pay attention to him every time he entered a room. His suffering was poetic and intriguing, you wanted to know what was really behind all that, what was behind Dazai Osamu's mask, that's why you had let him get so close to you, dig an egg in your heart and get into it as much as he felt like it.

"Come and dance with me," he said, extending one of his hands gently, his flirtatious expression now replacing that hurt smile.

"I'll dance with you if you come down from there." You assured crossing your arms, he pouted at your response.

"But if you dance with me here we can have a better view" he tried to convince you, put both hands in the air pretending that he was placing one of them on someone`s shoulder and holding their waist with the other, humming a song that you didn't know he began to move gracefully over the edge of the building, dirtying his feet with the dust accumulated on the cement, the way he carelessly turned on the tips of his feet seemed like he was dancing with death.

He winked at you before making another spin, staggering enough to scare you so you ran up to him and pulled one of his hands making him fall to the opposite side of the chasm, accidentally taking you with him, falling on your back while he landed next to you on one of his shoulders.

"You're an idiot" you mentioned, getting up when you heard him laugh from the ground, he lay down on his back, crumpling and dirtying his white shirt, not that he cared anyway. His eyesight no longer appreciated the city lights but the sky above your heads.

"You should stop hanging out with Chuuya, you're starting to sound like him." He put both hands behind his head and used them as a pillow, he didn't seem ready to get up yet. "You came to stop me, didn't you?"

You nodded and he let out a sigh.

"If you keep worrying so much about me I'm going to start thinking that you like me, Bella." From his tone he sounds like a little boy who just wants to annoy, it's like he expected that comment to make you angry but you don't even take him seriously, he wanted to provoke you like he did with Chuuya but that behavior was nothing new for you and unlike the redhead, you could let Dazai's attitude go.

Ignoring his comment, you walked until you rested your hands on the edge of the building, getting a better view of the landscape that he adored a few minutes ago. He was right, it was a painting in motion. You could understand how anyone would be struck by that interesting urban chaos.

The brunette sighed, his body still resting on the ground, one of his legs crossed over the other, his hair disheveled and his eyes left the starry sky to rest on you, admiring your figure. Although he knew that you and Chuuya didn't have a physical or romantic relationship, he couldn't help but think that the blue-eyed boy was lucky. Osamu was almost sure that you would never mind him touching you, from your body language he deduced that a part of you really was attracted to the gravity manipulator but he was too distracted to notice. And although Dazai himself had tried to make him seen it several times, he always told him to shut up. His obstinacy was sad, a true waste of a beautiful lady's interest.

Why were you wasting your time waiting for someone too clueless to notice you?

If it were him, Dazai, he would have realized it in an instant and would never have wasted your time, whatever you wanted from him he would have gladly given it to you. He wasn't Chuuya but he did suffer because of how much he wanted to touch you, run his fingers over your smooth skin, caress every corner of you that he could reach. Your body was what he occasionally craved more than death.

Eternal rest had enchanted him, it had seduced him a long time ago and he couldn't wait for destiny to let him fall into its arms, but he was clear that he would escape from it if you gave him the opportunity to try you at least once. To get rid of the doubts he has, how sweet your essence would be, how drunk would he be if it spilled on his lips, how much your silhouette would hypnotize him in the middle of his hands full of sin. You made him wonder so many things that he could rarely sleep when you got into his head at night.

"Chibi-chan is lucky," he repeated to himself, part of him cursing that the redhead would let the wind take away that ticket to happiness that the world had carefully laid at his feet.

"If you repeat it so much I'm going to start to think that you're envious of him," you mentioned without turning around, as a joke, assuming that he would defend himself with some childish comment, bringing out that immature behavior that the mere mention of the gravity manipulator caused in him. However, Dazai was not in the mood to play children's games that night.

"Maybe a little," he admits with a shrug, getting up from the ground and approaching you with his hands in his pockets.

You frowned in confusion at what you had just heard, turning to find him just a few steps away from you. "What could you envy about Chuuya?"

This was that type of behavior that always surprised you, he usually spent his time getting the redhead out of his mind as much as he could, teasing him, making fun of him, provoking him in every way he could think of, but now he calmly revealed that a part of him envied Nakahara. Dazai Osamu was quite a puzzle.

He took a few more steps towards you and you instinctively backed away until you collided with the edge of the building, he stopped inches from you, tilting his head down to carefully observe your face adorned with bewilderment and confusion.

"The way you look at him" he sighed "I don't know if I'd call it jealousy but I definitely wish I was in his place."

You froze for a second, he sounded sincere but frankly you weren't sure how much you could trust what Dazai was telling you, after all his intelligence surpassed yours, he could probably make you believe whatever he wanted, although it was not clear to you what he would gain from what he was telling you.

"Stop joking, Dazai," you warned him, fixing your eyes on his, trying to make him understand through your serious look that you weren't in the mood for that kind of games, not when he got so into character.

"I promise you I'm not joking" he clarified, raising both hands in a sign of innocence, he didn't feel like playing with that topic either, at least not now. The way the city lights illuminated you from below gave you an aura worthy of admire for him, he couldn't play with you at a moment like that, when you looked so especially charming. "I can prove it to you if you want," he offered as naturally as he would offer you a glass of water, although it was not clear to you what exactly he was offering you.

"Prove it to me?" you asked, bewildered. His hands returned to his pockets and he nodded slightly. "Prove what to me, Dazai?"

Without making any sudden movements, he took his hands out of his pockets again, being aware of how uneasy he had made you feel by his sudden confession, he slowly brought his hands closer to one of yours, taking it to bring it to his mouth and after lightly licking his lips, he planted a small kiss on the back of your hand, hoping to calm you with his gentle gesture. He proceeded to explain himself "I would like to prove to you how much I want you to look at me the way you look at Chuuya."

You could have sworn that you had felt your heart skip a beat and you froze for a second, repeating his words in your head over and over again, processing them to make sure you weren't imagining things, that proposal had really come out of the brunette's mouth, he was actually in front of you, ensuring that he meant what he said.

You blinked several times when Dazai's lips crashed into yours after accepting his request. Beyond how much everything that was happening seemed strange to you, it intrigued you after all, like everything that had to do with him. You didn't know where he wanted to go with all this, what exactly he hoped to achieve or what feelings towards Chuuya he was referring to but you were willing to take the risk because you were interested in that brown-haired man after all. More in a general way than romantically, however you didn't want to let go the opportunity to get closer to him and discover what awaited you in his proposal.

His lips were thin, soft, gentle at first, the taste of what he had drunk still lingered on them but you didn't dislike it. His hands went delicately to your body, confidently placing one on your waist, bringing you closer to him while the other cupped your face, his thumb barely had contact with your cheek, his touch was respectful of you, he moved forward timidly while he made sure you felt comfortable with him and then he took you as if he didn't want to let you go.

With your eyes closed, you sank into the kiss, your hands slowly passed through his chest until they surrounded his neck and buried themselves in his scalp, allowing you to play with his soft brown hair while you gave him access to your mouth. You didn't expect him to melt you for him so easily but it wasn't a surprise to you either, he was naturally skilled at everything he put his mind to, this wouldn't be an exception. He won the battle for dominance of the kiss without problems and he explored your oral cavity anxiously as he took even more of you, desire growing inside him every time he got more, everything was better than he had imagined.

Your body reacted so perfectly to him, to the passage of his palms, it was not as if you were made to fit with him but rather as if you molded to his taste, as if your body told him where he should go but at the same time took him where he wanted to go. He was sure that your mouth was the place he would return to without thinking about it, it could be his eternal vice and he would never get tired of the sweet and addictive feeling of your lips against his, if he had to receive the kiss of death he hoped it would come from you, he couldn't resist anyone else kissing him from now on. He went down to your neck and your aroma filled his nostrils, making him wish his pillows smelled like that. Sleeping every night with that comforting smell sounded like paradise. Now he would never want to be separated from you, not after you made him obsessed with you this way.

"You are exquisite Belladonna" he whispered, bringing his lips to your ear, slowly licking your earlobe causing your entire body to tingle, his arms wrapped around your waist, curling even more as he took another step closer, pressing his body against yours, slightly tucking one of his legs between yours. "I wonder how far you'll let me go."

He raised his knee a little, until his thigh made contact with your clothed cunt, he applied pressure lightly getting a gasp from you and unconsciously your thighs tightened around his leg preventing him from moving, which drew a smile on Dazai's lips.

The brunette's hands were filled with audacity and slowly left your waist to travel to your ass, he stopped for a moment to wait for a slap from you, one that never came, that was the proof he needed to know that he had now intoxicated you so much in him that he had you where he wanted. He gave your cheeks a gentle squeeze, a gasp escaping your lips while a satisfying hum escaped his own, every part of you was too alluring not to place his sinful fingers on it, he took the time to enjoy the contact between his finger tips and every centimeter of your body.

"I think I've proven enough" he whispered in your ear as a warning, letting you know that he was about to walk away, thinking that if he had achieved his goal you would immediately stop him and just like that, you did it, you didn't understand exactly why or how but now you needed him. You couldn't let him walk away now that he had stolen a little of your breath and a little of your common sense.

Your grip tightened slightly, you didn't say anything but it was easy to understand the meaning behind that, you didn't want him to move away. And that's how Dazai understood it, complying with the implicit order you had given him, he joined his lips with yours again, carrying this second kiss with more lust than the previous one.

He gave your ass another squeeze, harder this time, and leaned over you, his height trapping you completely between him and the edge of the building, at any other time you would have yelled at him to get away because it could be dangerous, but now there was something exciting about having the bright lights of the city behind you while the brown-eyed man's lips moved down your neck, sucking your skin with desire and the need to record every part of you in every part of himself.

You knew that Chuuya would judge you for this, your mind would probably go blank when he asked you where the hickeys that Dazai was leaving so passionately on your neck had come from, so you would have to hope that the redhead didn't find out that it was precisely Mackerel who skillfully unbuttoned your shirt while you sighed for him every time his knee pressed on that special place between your legs. The one with blue eyes would never leave you alone if he knew that you had let Osamu put his eyes on your breasts and he would recriminate you for the rest of your life if you told him, that you allowed him not only to place his hands but also his lips on them. Nakahara would be a pain in the ass if you admitted that your panties got wet for no one else and no other than the youngest leader in the history of the Port Mafia.

Dazai, on the other hand, was fascinated with you, with your breasts and the soft sounds that escaped your mouth every time he ran his tongue over what wasn't covered by your bra, but although he was delighted with it, he didn't take long to take the next step and let one of his hands went down your abdomen, caressing your soft skin until he reached the button on your pants, which he got rid of in a matter of seconds to slide his hand between your panties.

"Oh, 'Donna, what do we have here?" He asked rhetorically as he felt the wetness in your pussy, a teasing tone and a smirk plastered on his face caused your cheeks to burn. A sudden stroke of shyness because of his comment attacked you and you wanted to push him away, putting your hands on his chest but before you could do it he started making circles on your clit making you moan. "Beautiful, come on, sing more for me."

It was music to his ears, an unmatched melody, it was like a delicacy that he could taste every time he heard it, delicious. He wanted more, he needed more and that was what he got by accelerating his rhythm, a series of moans, sweet, desperate, it made his skin crawl and his member throb in his pants.

The brunette bit his lower lip when you threw your head back, eyes closed and lips parted, your eyebrows furrowed slightly every time you sighed and the expression of satisfaction on your face could easily be worthy of a museum if you asked Dazai. The representation of beauty appeared before him, you were like a muse and he was definitely a lucky man, how could he not consider himself one after what he was experiencing.

He abandoned your clit and his finger slowly slid to your folds, he kissed your collarbones sweetly and began to insert his digit, delighting in how good your walls felt surrounding him, your warmth welcoming him as he had been longing for so long. It was like a dream but it felt real, although nothing real had ever felt so good to him before, he could almost give up his death wish if you asked him, with your voice shaking and your eyes covered in desire. He could kneel before you if you asked him to and he did, even though you didn't ask him.

You whimpered when he took his hands off of you and then opened your eyes, you saw him smile at you, what you would describe as an mischievous smile spread across his face when his hands went to the hem of your pants, he winked at you and his eyes told you to trust him, so already too invested in that situation, you trusted.

Without your pants being a problem he placed one of his hands on your lower abdomen, gently pushing you until you were lying on the edge of the building, there was barely enough room for your torso, your head was hanging off the edge and you could see the city lights, you got lost in them for a second while the man with chocolate eyes slid your panties down your legs until they fell to the floor.

Dazai placed your legs on his shoulders, holding your thighs with his arms to make sure he didn't let you fall, he would never forgive himself if he did. Osamu didn't know which he loved more at this point, the view of the city from the edge or the view of your wet cunt, probably the latter since he was the only one who could see it. He moved closer and you could feel his breath hit your entrance, he licked his lips before placing a kiss on your clit.

That he was a messy eater didn't surprise you, it was almost expected, what you would never have expected was how good he was at it, eager to please, to listen to how you succumbed more and more to his charms. All the slurping, sucking and wet sounds he caused were lost in the wind along with the lewd sounds that escaped your mouth.

You two were lucky no one came up to the roof.

You started to get dizzy, being upside down was starting to affect you but with how good he made you feel you didn't want to move, not only was your entire body gripped by lust but you had a beautiful view, how were you supposed to want to stop this?

With his tongue between your folds he pumped his head at a steady pace, tongue fucking you, occasionally switching to giving a few quick licks to your clit. Your wetness covered his mouth and he was happy about it, he went against you like a hungry man, ready to satisfy himself with you, he wanted to taste as much of you as he could as if you were his favorite candy, one that if he didn't eat now he didn't know when he would be able to eat again. This was his chance, now or never, he had to take advantage while he could or he would regret it later.

"Dazai, feels so good" your hands went to his scalp and buried themselves in it, you brought him closer to you almost as if you didn't care if he runs out air, god knows he didn't care if he did. What could be better than dying between your legs? Thinking of himself as Shakespeare, he would say that it would be like finding heaven without even entering it, he would definitely brag to the demons and bother the angels by claiming that his heaven is better than theirs.

Your legs trembled around his head and your back arched, it was too much, your orgasm crawled up to you, a knot in the lower part of your stomach that threatened to unravel at any moment, you warned him with heavy breathing. You asked him to go slower but he couldn't allow himself to do that, not when you were so close to the climax he was dying to witness.

His hands held your thighs tightly, avoiding digging his nails into you because he wasn't looking to hurt you, he wouldn't forgive himself for that, he wanted to please you, not hurt you, he couldn't hurt you, especially now that he knew how well his name sounded on your lips when you moaned it.

The lights of the city disappeared as your eyes closed when you felt like you were going to touch heaven the second you came on Dazai's face, your fluids dripping down your thighs and onto his chin but that didn't stop him, he licked your folds until you finished riding your high.

"That was beautiful, Donna," he said, getting up from the ground and pulling you by the waist, he helped you sit down. You barely knew where you were. Your half-open eyes focused on him and he joined his lips with yours, making you taste yourself. "You're lovely."

He helped you stand up, he was afraid that you would fall if he didn't take you away from the abyss, one fall from there and he would lose you, death would not forgive you after you took away the man who wanted her most. The brunette was sure that she was a jealous being.

"Do you think you can help me with something?" He whispered in your ear as if he was afraid the city behind him could hear him.

"With what?" You asked between the dizziness and the intensity of your climax, between the dopamine and oxytocin, the feeling of well-being was too good to allow you to concentrate on anything.

"This" taking one of your wrists, the one with brown eyes took it until he placed your hand on the bulge in his pants, it was painfully hard, he let out a sigh as you cradled him, stroking him slowly as you watched him bite his lip.

You started very clumsily but Dazai didn't pay much attention to that, it was a matter of time before your other hand helped you by going to his belt, you thought you had understood what he wanted you to do. The sound of the buckle hitting the ground interrupted the wind for a second as you knelt in front of him, undoing the button on his pants, your thumbs pulling down his boxers just enough to free his member and one of your hands wrapping around him, he gasped and threw his head back. You began to make slow movements along his length and he pushed his hips a little, motivating you to go faster, he was beginning to get desperate.

His tip, aching red, began to drip with precum so you used your thumb to spread some, you licked your lips settling down on your knees which were scraping lightly on the cement of the floor, some dust on your skin but you weren't paying attention to the dirt of the place but to Dazai's reactions, his soft sighs and the way he pushed his hips against your hand every now and then.

You opened your mouth, your head moving unconsciously towards his cock. Feeling your breath on him his gaze turned to you, you almost took his breath away when you timidly placed your lips on his tip, he cursed in a whisper, the surprising sensation of pleasure that ran over him made him gasp harder than before, his nails dug into his palms and he had to stop himself from grabbing your head and pushing himself until he hit your throat and made you choke on him, it wasn't the time for that but he would definitely save the idea for another day. You pumped your head a little, just focusing on the head while your hand worked on the rest at a similar pace, his eyes couldn't stop looking at the way his dick was slowly disappearing in your mouth. How was it possible that you looked so angelic and seductively sinful at the same time?

A small but unexpected thrust on his part made your gag reflex worse for a second so you had to separate for a moment, you coughed but quickly composed yourself, although you wanted to take him again he stopped you, he couldn't let everything continue to focus so much on himself when he was dying to have your legs wrapped around his waist and your eyes with dilated pupils focused on him while he slam into you.

"We have many days for you to finish that." Of course, now that he knew the paradise you were, he would claim you as his own. "Would you mind lying down for me?"

The stars of the late night were the spectators of how you did what he asked you, lying on your back, your legs were bent but the shame that you had not gotten rid of yet forced you to keep them together, tenderly he knelt just before open them with the same delicacy that he used at the beginning.

Even with your open blouse on and your bra you felt very exposed when the brunette took a second to appreciate you from head to toe, kneeling in front of you, his gaze felt heavy, it was like the one of a predator, he would intimidate you if you showed him weakness for a second, perhaps that's how those who feared him felt, however, unlike with them, that look did nothing more than silently praise your body. Of course you still didn't learn enough about him to notice that difference.

Dazai took place in between your legs, with his member in one of his hands, he ran his tip up and down your folds, filling it with your fluids, enjoying your sighs of satisfaction and despair at the same time. You didn't know what he was waiting for, you thought maybe he wanted some kind of approval but when you were about to give it, he entered your pussy in one thrust, unexpectedly stretching you out, your back arched and you both moaned in unison.

"Oh, you take me so well." He said with relief, satisfaction radiating from his face.

You surrounded him with your legs and held on to his biceps when his hands rested on either side of your body, contrary to what you expected considering his first thrust, he started calmly, giving you time to get used to it. Although it didn't take you long to do so, soon you were saying his name as if it were a prayer, asking him to go faster and clearly your wishes were orders to him. His pace not only became more constant but he began to bury himself harder inside you, your walls around him could easily be his downfall and he would never complain.

He looked at where the two of you joined together, he wanted to engrave that image in his head, it would serve him so well when you appeared in his thoughts and you weren't around, he would have something that would help him entertain himself, calm his cravings and the possible erection that he remembering you would cause him. Your walls tightening around him, your nails digging on his skin, your legs on his waist and your breasts moving every time he thrust into you, a perfect combination for him, that motivated him to go all out but not as much as your shaky voice that was occasionally interrupted by moans.

His hips against yours generated the unmistakable sound of flesh against flesh, his balls collided against your ass and you could feel him so much deeper each time, making a pleasurable current spread through your body, your toes curled, your breathing was extremely irregular, you were losing yourself too much in your satisfaction again and the last straw was when Dazai hit your cervix.

"Too deep," you whimpered.

You had never felt anyone so deep inside you, this was a new experience. You felt full, totally, and it was glorious.

Without saying anything, the one with brown eyes move your bra away and brought his lips to one of your nipples, stimulating you even more, between that and the rough way he went against you, it seemed like he was trying to make you faint by giving so much to you, you could barely deal with it all that. Your entire body bristle and your eyes even watered a little. From how well you were stretching for him, Dazai guessed that it was a matter of time before you came around him and the simple idea of it made his member throb inside you, he was close too.

With the slight sound of a 'pop' he left your nipple to start sucking the other, he was becoming messy again, he cover your breasts with his saliva and his thrusts became clumsier, he was almost reaching his limit, was closer than he would like to admit, so he continued with a more unpredictable rhythm, rearranging your guts as he pleased.

Dazai couldn't help but think that maybe pleasure was the apple that God told Adam and Eve not to eat. Perhaps the fruit was nothing more than a metaphor for the other's body, but for them the exquisite view in front was too tempting, the snake could simply be the representation of the lust that was in them, of the desire to sinfully touch the other for more than only reproductive purposes. At this point nothing makes more sense than abandoning paradise for this kind of overwhelming, delicious, sinful joy.

You started panting heavily, your vision blurring slightly thanks to the tears that fell from your eyes, there were only two but they held so much satisfaction that they were proof of how much Dazai wanted you to look at him the way you looked at Chuuya, all the pleasure he gave to your body was the fair and necessary proof that what he had said was not a joke at all.

A high pitched moan escaping inevitably from your lips was the prelude to your orgasm, although you knew it was coming, it caught you by surprise taking complete control of your body, causing your eyes to narrow, your legs tightened around his waist imprisoning him, holding him close as your walls clenched hard around his member, covering him with your fluids and triggering his own orgasm, barely giving him time to get out of you. The brunette let out a grunt and pulled out of you in one quick movement, coming into your stomach, covering your skin with thick ropes of his cum as he panted, almost complaining about having to leave your warm interior.

"I have to say, you are addictive Belladonna." He smirk and winks at you with a loving and tired expression plastered on his face.

You chuckled at his comment, too tired to say a word as you tried to compose yourself after your climax.

Dazai threw his head back while breathing heavily, he looked exhausted, beads of sweat had accumulated on his forehead and his hair was completely messy but he looked more relieved and alive than ever. His eyes were on the starry sky as he gathered the energy to move, which took him a couple of minutes.

You didn't think you would say this, and you probably wouldn't really say it out loud, opening your mouth to admit that Dazai Osamu had turned your entire world upside down was giving him too much power over you that he couldn't possess for one simple reason, it would raise his ego and God have mercy on the Port Mafia if that happens. Although you didn't admit it, you did ask him for a favor, to keep this between you two and although he assure you that his lips were sealed, nothing would stop him from bragging a little without giving too many details.

"Oi, Chuuya" Dazai hummed, lengthening the 'a' as he entered the blue-eyed man's office where the two of you were reviewing the details of a mission.

The redhead rolled his eyes, not wanting to even speak to him at this moment since his head was hurting already, he just massaged his temples and pointed to the door as a way of telling him to get out, something the brunette clearly had no intention of doing.

"I have a question, have you ever fucked?" The indiscreet question from the youngest leader of the Port Mafia not only made you almost choke on your own saliva but also made Nakahara automatically look at him with hatred, he didn't know where this was going but he knew beforehand that it would irritate him.

"What the hell is that question about, Mackerel?" Chuuya barks at Osamu, both confused and annoyed by the brunette's unnecessary and clearly unexpected interruption.

"I was just curious, I thought maybe your anger problems are because you need to release some tension with a woman... or a man, if that makes my dog happy so be it." said the one with brown eyes, letting himself fall carelessly into one of the chairs in front of the gravity manipulator's desk. "There is nothing more satisfying than directly seeing the pleasure in the eyes of the person you make love with, don't you think?"

Although Dazai was talking to Chuuya you could feel that he was directing his words to you, he had a malicious smile as if he enjoyed indirectly showing off to the redhead in his own way what he had done. It was Dazai's way of giving the blue-eyed man a small clue that he intended to steal you from him.

#bsd dazai #bsd #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai smut #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #mafia dazai #smut oneshot #minors dni #mdni #18+ minors dni

278 notes · View notes

bubblybloob · 3 months

Note

I dare you to draw smitten with either cold or the beast, you pick.

This is because I said I hadn’t gotten many asks for the Smitten, huh?

This might actually be a bit more Cold focused, long thing I wrote below.

There were fights, a lot of fights, actually. How could there not be? Eleven voices given form, only to be cramped back into one space. At least this time it was a house, not a body.

It wasn’t a bad thing, far from it; Hero wagers most were thankful for the permanent, familiar company, while the rest indifferent. Hero himself quite enjoys chatting or playing games with the others, it isn’t uncommon for him to seek out one of the voices simply so his stirring thoughts can have an outlet.

However, sometimes the others don’t click. Usually it was fine- Broken, Hunted and Contrarian seldom got physical. Opportunist and Paranoid might if they felt strongly enough about something to throw away their pretenses or fear, but they weren’t often the issue.

The rest tended to jump to bold accusations and wild conclusions, looked forward to it even. Skeptic occasionally found himself going from relatively mundane quarrels to all out brawls from causing accidental offense. Stubborn and Cheated had a tendency to get too excited about coming out on top in one way or another, and the other two…

Sometimes it felt like they only ever fought each other.

Okay, that was lie, Cold purposely ruffled the other’s feathers out of pure boredom. Hero wondered if he had made up some sort of challenge to see if he could get the non confrontational voices riled up for a fight, given how often he pushed their buttons. Once he flat out punched Contrarian in the face just to see if he’d retaliate.

If Cold couldn’t get them to crack he’d sigh with something akin to dejection and approach someone like Cheated, maybe Stubborn if he was feeling risky- pretty much anyone with a shorter fuse so he could get some form of thrill.

But they weren’t his go to, that would be- of course- Smitten.

“You vile, wretched thing! I won’t hear another word of nonsense out of you. Begone! Foul creature!”

“Call me all the names you like, you won’t get the response you’re looking for.”

It happened just about every other day: Cold would say something off putting, Smitten would respond with something that would offend anybody else, a bit of snarky back and forth later, and suddenly hands were being thrown.

“What are they arguing about this time?” Cheated grumbled, coming up to stand beside Hero, whose eyes were encircled by dark shadows.

“I ‘dunno, woke up to them yapping at each other, or at least Smitten’s yapping, I don’t think Cold has ever raised his voice.” Hero yawned out, scratching at his horn tuft.

“With how often those two are at each others throats, I think we should count ourselves lucky one is so soft spoken.” Cheated stretched his arms and body upwards, his wings instinctively snapping outwards and flapping as he tried to relieve his muscles. The large wings smacked Hero’s side as he did, which had the heroic voice stumbling backwards as Cheated mumbled a small “sorry” out.

“It’s fine. I think it’s less that he’s soft spoken and more that he’s sharp spoken. He talks like he knows where all your vitals are.” Hero responds, shivering at his own words.

Cheated shrugs. “Probably does, he’s our resident freak after all.”

“How is it then that you feel nothing? Without feeling one will rot away, yet you’re still here.” Seems Hero had missed part of drama during his and Cheated’s little chat. Smitten had now grabbed Cold by the chest feathers and was looking ready to tear into him.

“Who knows, really? Maybe I’m like a ghost, haunting the remains that our godly self expelled. Or maybe we simply can’t die, I haven’t eaten in a while.” Cold replies with a sharp whistle.

“Ooo, he shouldn’t be so candid about saying that out loud, never know when Hunted’s listening.” Cheated says behind a wicked smile. No doubt the avian had tucked the information away for blackmail, or to get a favor from Opportunist, who also found a new joy in digging up dirt on the others for his own benefit.

Hero was about to step in at this point. Smitten looked ready to let loose, and Cold seemed to be passively soaking in the drama of it all. But before Hero could open his mouth, Smitten’s hold relaxed, and his head hung low.

“No, I see through your tricks, scum. I will not loose myself to anger over frivolous things such as this. Leave, now, I must prepare myself for the morning time.” Smitten let’s go of Cold’s feathers, which were not bunched together and frayed. Cold hums something tired.

“Weak willed of you, can’t approach her killer?” Cold tilts his head.

A flinch. “I know what you’re doing, I won’t fall for it this time, villain!” Smitten whips around, and goes to walk from the conflict.

Cold’s wry smile falls flat on his face, he turns his head toward Cheated.

“Not today pal, Paranoid seemed extra twitchy though, probably didn’t get much sleep. It’s still early and he isn’t fully alert in his head, might be able to start something up with him if you push hard enough.” Cheated suggests. Hero punches him in the arm, just when he thought there would be no morning fight to put down.

Cold’s brow raises, evidently interested in a fight with someone who rarely raised his hands. He moves past the two, already on the prowl for their jumpiest member.

“Troop on, you emotionless fuck- ow, stop that!” Cheated yelps when Hero punches him again, this time a little harder.

Cheated’s words seemed to have stopped Smitten in his tracks however, he mutters something to himself, and whips back around. “You can’t be as dispassionate as you claim! You’re merely afraid of your own feelings!”

The accusation makes the Cold stop dead. His expression is hidden, but Hero swears he sees his feathers puff out. He expects them to quickly flatten back down.

But they don’t.

Cold slowly turns the upper half of his body, his face looks… almost strained. His composure had finally cracked.

“Hmm?” He darkly hums. It’s an oddly moderate response, given how Cold takes any and all opportunities to tease whomever he talks to, especially for outlandish claims such as this.

They were outlandish… weren’t they?

Hero had a bad feeling in his gut, one he couldn’t explain.

“I’m right.” Smitten looks a little surprised, before a damn near elated expression creeps onto his face. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Cold doesn’t respond, still half turned to leave. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t swayed in the past ten seconds. Hero wonders if he was still breathing.

“You aren’t unfeeling at all, are you? You’re full of emotion! What’s is it then that makes you push them under the deep, dark waves of the heart? Fear? Want? …Guilt? I can guess what it’s for.” Smitten continues with his theory, the Cold still hasn’t retaliated.

“Ooo, might be onto something there, Smitty.” Chester looks almost excited as he says this. His words seem to encourage Smitten further, who puffs up under the praise.

Cold stands there.

“Go on then, tell us the harsh truth, fiend. You’re no emotionless husk.” Smitten moves closer and closer to Cold’s position. Hero wonders if he should put himself between the two, but he can’t say he isn’t interested to where this is going.

Smitten stands face to face with his Cold counterpart. Hero swears Cold shrinks back under the close attention.

“You’re afraid.”

For a moment, they stand there, a stare down. Hero briefly hears the faint phantom sounds of glass breaking under the weight of godhood.

In a blink Cold draws his arm back, and his fist connects to Smitten cheek.

—

WoooOooO cliffhanger that might never keep going.

I’m unsure if this is common theory or whatnot, but I’ve not for a moment believed Cold was emotionless. I think he’s hurt by what’s happened to him, so much so that he thinks being emotionless, acting only to entertain will bring him some form of twisted comfort.

I think he’s too afraid to let himself feel, so he pushes his feelings far, far down, and pretends he feels nothing. He’s so good at it that he believes it to be true.

He’s so good at ignoring both physical and mental feeling that he himself believes he is nothing but a thrill seeker. In reality, his emotions, his physical needs, it all hurt him, so he squashes both.

Think about it, you usually get him by killing the princess in cold blood, and then subsequently stabbing yourself. Both hurt him. He only knows hurt from both, so he throws them aside.

#slay the princess #stp voices #voice of the smitten #voice of the cold #voice of the hero #voice of the cheated #art #my art #writng #asks #requests #too many goddamn tags #that’s what the fandom should be called

161 notes · View notes

thisisawonderfulusername · 1 year

Text

only you

cavill!sherlock holmes x pregnant!reader

requested by: anon

summary: after becoming pregnant, you notice that sherlock has been distancing himself. he finally returns home after at least a month of being gone.

warnings: pregnancy, mention of a dead body but nothing graphic, if there's anything you see let me know

word count: 2k

a/n: thank you so much for this request! i apologize for how long it took to write, but i enjoyed it! i don't think i was able to fit absolutely everything but i hope you like it either way.

everything was perfect in the beginning. at least, that's how it felt.

when you first met sherlock, it was at the scene of a case you were working on. you admit, it was a bit suspicious of you to be digging around in a dead man's pockets, but you were there for the same business as him. or at least similar.

"who are you?" you jump at the new voice in the room, obviously not expecting anyone else to waltz in while you were doing your investigation.

you rise from your crouched position as you pull a note from the dead man's pocket, turning to see the intruder.

my, was he handsome.

clearing your throat, you fold your hands together, encasing the paper. "i could ask you the same."

he sighs, "sherlock holmes."

a soft gasp passes your lips. sherlock holmes, the well renowned detective.

"i ask again, who are you?" he questions.

"y/n l/n." you inform him, "it's a pleasure to meet you, mr holmes."

his eyebrows raises as he looks to the corpse on the floor. "may i ask why you were searching a dead man's body?"

"oh," you had almost forgotten your business here, being in his presence. you glance down at the body, "i'm investigating a case. my search has led me here."

he seemed intrigued by the new information, nodding his head. "the case of his murder?"

"well, a missing person's case. but it seems it has become more than that." you motion towards the floor.

"i happen to be investigating his murder." he tells you, "i believe our cases may have crossed."

"so it seems." you hum.

he glances around the room for a second, clearly thinking. "perhaps we can share our information."

you never would've expected that case to lead to a long partnership, bringing your minds together to solve even the toughest of cases.

"another case solved, mr holmes." you smile at the man beside you.

"couldn't have done it without you, miss l/n," he responds, causing you to chuckle.

and perhaps a blooming romance.

yes, throughout the months of running around with him, you may have grown to have some feelings.

it was something different. you had met plenty of men. your parents had introduced you to some, telling you how wonderful they were and how you should settle down soon before nobody would want you. of course, nobody would want a woman too old to have a child.

but with each man who courted you, you realized that in your mind, you were comparing them all to sherlock.

sherlock, who was the kindest gentleman you'd ever met. the person you felt most comfortable with on any day. the man who had moved in with you after a mere three cases, leaving two-twenty-one b baker street as a place for bringing evidence together to create conclusions.

in your mind, he was perfect. but out of reach.

little did you know, it wasn't quite as far away as you suspected.

"ha!" you step back as you look at the strings that connected on the wall in front of you. "oh my- sherlock!" you call for him.

he rushes in from the other room, eyes wide. "what? did something happen?"

"i figured it out!" you squeal, clapping your hands together, "i solved it!"

"you-" he quickly moves forward to look at all the connections, eyes darting all around. a moment later, he looks back to you, "you did!"

it's almost natural how you gravitate towards each other, "my word, you are just-" he can barely form words, and without thinking…

he kisses you. it seems as if it's something that happens everyday, with the way your hand moves to rest on his shoulder without any thought.

when he pulls away, you're staring into each other's eyes, amazed by what just happened.

"well, that could've happened much sooner," you breathe out, sharing a smile with him.

after your relationship blossomed, it was approximately a year before he proposed.

and not too long after, you found yourself to be pregnant. when you told sherlock, he was elated at first.

the two of you were turning a new page in your story, beginning a new chapter.

but after a month or so, the excitement from him began to dwindle. he grew distant, and it seemed to you like he was hesitant to even look in your direction.

with time, he was rarely coming home, staying in the flat that he used to call home- to you, it seemed like that was slowly a returning case.

one day, as you were heading towards town to run some errands, you heard a strange whining sound near the bushes along the sidewalk.

when you went to investigate, pushing the leaves to the side, you saw a puppy. a bundle of shaggy, light brown fur.

"oh, sweety." you frown, hesitantly reaching out for it. once it allows you to get closer, you manage to pick it up out of the bushes. it was much heavier than you expected, but you managed to hold him. "why are you out here all alone? have you got any owners?"

you searched for a tag but to no avail. "it seems not. i suppose i'll take you home with me then, how does that sound? we can keep each other company."

you smile. no part of you ever expected having a dog, but here you are, carrying one back up the stairs to your home.

"i think a bath will do you good," your nose scrunches as you open the door, having to hold the dog close to yourself and smelling the odor that came from him.

thus began a friendship filled with love and loyalty.

part of you wondered what sherlock would think, but he hadn't been home in at least a month, only dropping in to grab a new round of clothes every once in a while.

your hand runs across cato's back while his head rests in your lap. every few minutes, you'll lift your hand to turn the page of the book you've been reading, but only seconds later it's back on his fur.

it's been a relaxing evening, as you've had no errands to run for the day, and until dinner you haven't got anything to do.

usually, this time would be spent by sherlock's side. whether it be having a cup of tea or going out to solve a crime, it would be with him.

it seems you haven't had that since you found that you were pregnant. since your belly grew bigger, since he stopped lingering in your presence.

a knock at the door has the dog's head raising, and you look towards the door. as he jumps off the couch, you place a bookmark on your page and push up from your cushioned seat.

when you open the door, you're greeted with the sight of the young sister of sherlock's and her new beau.

"enola!" you smile, opening the door further, "it's wonderful to see you again. and tewkesbury, a pleasure as always."

"it's wonderful to see you again, you look wonderful," enola says as they enter your home, noticing the dog a few moments later, "and who's this?"

you look down to him, his tail beginning to wag as tewkesbury reaches a hand out for him to sniff. "this is cato." you inform, "i found him on the street about a month ago. i didn't expect for him to get so big in such little time."

they both smile and enola watches as tewkesbury scratches the dog's ear. "how does sherlock feel about him?" she asks.

a small frown tries to tug your lips down but you quickly disguise it. "i'm not sure," you sigh, "he hasn't been home to meet him."

tewkesbury looks away from the dog when you say that, eyebrows furrowing together. "he hasn't? why not?"

all words are lost as you shrug, not knowing yourself why he hasn't been around.

"i'll go speak with him," she states, beginning to move back to the door.

"no, enola," you grab her hand and she stares at you in utter confusion. "there's no need. i'm sure he'll be back soon."

her hand drops from yours as she sighs. "if he fails to return, i will get him myself." you promise.

she nods, "just- tell me when he does."

you muster up a smile, "of course. would you like any tea?" you change the topic.

"we were actually on our way to the market," tewkesbury informs you, "we were just passing by to say hello."

you nod, "well, don't let me hold you up. enjoy your day."

enola's arm loops through his and you feel a tug at your heart as you open the door for them, "remember, tell me when sherlock comes to his senses." she points a finger at you before they leave.

you sigh when you close the door, thinking of the times you and sherlock had their kind of relationship. young and naive.

you look down at cato, who was unaware of your feelings, his tail wagging happily.

"oh, darling." you sigh, patting his head, "what will i do?"

you hum softly, moving throughout the kitchen to grab various ingredients for dinner.

it was a peaceful moment until you heard the door open, followed by a growl in the living room.

you froze, carefully placing what you held on the counter and grabbing for a knife. had you forgotten to lock the door?

when you peak around the corner of the entryway that leads out of the kitchen, you see what caused the distress of your dog- your husband, home for the first time in who knows how long. it upset you that the thought of him being home didn't cross your mind before someone breaking in.

the confusion on his face is evident when he turns his head and sees you. "what is a dog doing in our home?"

"i took him in." you state matter of fact as the dog trots over to you, sitting at your feet while keeping his gaze on the man unknown to him.

sherlock's eyebrows furrow, "and why was i not informed of this?"

"i'm surprised you even care," you laugh bitterly, "he's been here for a while now, and it says a lot that you're only learning of it now."

it takes sherlock a moment to answer, glancing around the room before looking back to you. "you're mad at me."

your lips purse. "what a brilliant deduction, sherlock."

he purses his lips, "i know i've been busy-"

"no, sherlock!" your voice suddenly raises and cato stands, "you haven't been home in forever. you've left me!"

when he looks down at the floor, you can feel the tears beginning to form in your eyes. "that wasn't my intention, darling." he mutters softly, taking a step towards you.

a soft growl comes from cato as he stares your husband down. "don't call me darling." you speak lowly, "you've lost that privilege."

you can see the hurt in his eyes, but you couldn't seem to care. when he shows no sign of reply, you cross your arms. "please, sherlock." you whisper, "what did i do? you've never been this distant."

"i didn't mean-"

"then why-"

"i'm scared, alright?" his voice raises, causing you to flinch. he frowns at the sight, shaking his head. "i worry i won't be a good father."

you feel a pang in your heart at his confession. out of all the reasons in the world, you never would've expected him to be scared.

"sherlock," you step toward him, "my love, you will be a wonderful father." after you drop the knife on the dining table, your hand raises to rest on his cheek and he leans into your touch. "i wouldn't want anyone else for this baby. only you."

his striking blue eyes stare into yours and you can see the guilt within them. "i'm sorry for leaving," he whispers softly.

"you better be." your volume matches his as you press a kiss to his cheek, "and if you do it again, i'll let cato maul you."

a laugh is pulled from him and you smile at the sound that you missed so much. "i promise, darling." he glances to the dog, "he's pretty cute."

"i know, right?" you look down at him, "i found him in a bush." you chuckle.

taglists

main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever

sherlock holmes: none yet

#sherlock x reader #henry cavill sherlock holmes x reader #henry cavill sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #holmes x reader #cavill sherlock x reader #cavill sherlock holmes x reader #henry sherlock holmes x reader #henry sherlock x reader

1K notes · View notes

alasse-earfalas · 7 months

Text

Some ideas I have about some of the Links and their brains.

This will not include all of the boys, as most of them (Time, Wind, Twilight, Four, and Hyrule) I see as being in the same basic camp when it comes to smarts and stuff, so there's nothing really for me to address there. I'm just going to point out some interesting quirks I've noticed / hc with the other four.

Warriors

It's easy to jump to the conclusion that Wars is the stupidest Link, since his game has no puzzles. I disagree. While yes, he is laughably terrible with puzzles, he is a strategic and tactical genius with a powerhouse, rapid-fire brain that can parse out an entire battle's worth of information in an instant and come to a decision in a flash. Traditional puzzles may not be his thing, sure, but that is not where his genius lies. His brain thrives on cutting through chaos with decisive action, and that is where he shines.

Sky

Has ADHD (inattentive type). Like, really, really bad inattention. Constantly spaces out and forgets things. There's a reason Fi pops up like, every half-second to remind him what he's supposed to be doing. Hylia knew what she was dealing with and planned accordingly. He is the most space-cadety of space-cadets. He'll be going along like a normal person with a normal train of thought and then he'll see a leaf floating by and completely forget what he's doing because the leaf is pretty and isn't it interesting how it moves with the wind like that and I wonder where it's going hey wait get back here—

But. Sky's mental superpower is that he is the fastest dang learner in the entire Chain. Not just with weapons or items or music like the rest of 'em, but everything. Wild's unable to cook but has all the ingredients for something he's made before? Sky watched how he did it once while helping him dice the veggies, so he'll just throw that meal together real quick. Wild let him flip through the "Ingredients" section of the compendium once, and now Sky can identify all the edible plants it listed by sight. He learned how to carve by watching Jakamar repair a couple of wooden structures one day. Sky may be a space cadet, but he's also the most potently absorbent practical-knowledge and information sponge you ever did meet.

Wild

Also has ADHD (combined type). There are literal "ooo shiny" mechanics in the freaking game. Koroks? ooo shiny. Shrine quests? ooo shiny. Every single item that Wild can pick up in the game literally sparkles. Everything about the Sheikah Slate is designed to account for this: scope pins, map stamps, inventory organization, Hyrule Compendium, Sheikah Sensor, photo album, a journal which he uses to take fastidious detailed notes of all the crap he needs to remember because he knows he'll forget all of it otherwise. He struggles to sit still for extended periods unless he is asleep or gazing into a pretty fire.

Wild is also the creative genius out of the bunch. He has the most robust understanding of fundamental physics out of the entire Chain. His visual thinking and creative problem-solving skills are off the charts. The rest of the Chain may be able to navigate with maps and compasses, but Wild can navigate foreign terrain using nothing but the environment itself. Present him with a problem and he'll think of fifty different ways to address it and all of them will usually work. He is an all-around genius problem solver and astoundingly creative thinker.

Legend

Mind like a freaking. Steel. Trap. Nothing slips past his awareness or gets forgotten. Ever. Journals are pointless because his brain is an information vault. Oh, and any puzzle he's handed better say goodby to its loved ones and make sure its will is in order because this lad will solve it before it has a chance to defend itself.

Let me just, give you an example. Just one. You see this here?

How long do you think you could remember this random character vomit without writing it down? A few minutes, maybe? Maybe a couple hours, or a day or two if you took the time to memorize it?

Try an entire journey to another country after hearing it only once.

Oh, but that's not even the most impressive part! You see, Legend didn't just hang onto one of these memorization nightmares for an entire extended trip to another land, oh no—he remembered several of them. Perfectly. As if that wasn't enough, y'all remember the item swap quests? Yeah, without notes of any kind, this Link remembered who needed what in every single one of those convoluted trading chains. All while he was busy saving the world.

The downside is that Legend's thinking is not very flexible. He operates best when there is a single correct solution to a given problem. He much prefers having concrete information to work with, rather than a vague scenario with a shrug and a, "idk, figure something out". Being dropped into a massive open world with no information other than, "alright here ya go, here's some basic abilities and a light dusting of backstory, now get out there and save the Princess!" would be an overwhelming, anxiety-riddled nightmare for this dude.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu warriors #lu sky #lu wild #lu legend #sorry that ended so abruptly #I didn't really know what else to say #so there you go #those are my thoughts

234 notes · View notes

theladybarnes · 14 days

Photo

CRIMSON AND CLOVER: CHAPTER EIGHT

“I told you, I'm fine. Okay? I mean, as fine as someone who's hurtling towards a gruesome death can be.”

▸ summary: the group splits off again and a breaking theory comes your way ▸ characters: steve harrington, dustin henderson, max mayfield, robin buckley, nancy wheeler, & lucas sinclair ▸ word count: 12.7k ▸ warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of death, slight canon divergence, & trauma ▸ series masterlist

“It was here..right here!”

“A grandfather clock?”

“It was so real.”

You watched carefully from the back of the group as Max explained what happened once she had snapped out of her brief frozen state. Time had not ran out and it was only a few seconds into your panicking that she gasped before you guys, waking up.

“..And then, when I got closer, suddenly I just..I woke up.”

“It was like she was in a trance or something.” Dustin chimed in, looking over to the rest of you. “Exactly what you and Eddie said happened to Chrissy.”

You met his gaze with a small nod, unsure what to think next. Chrissy never woke up to the sound of you and Eddie calling out to her. And while Max didn’t either, she still snapped out of it.

Turning around to the group, Max couldn’t help but dive into more information. “That’s not even the bad part.” she started before she led all of you back to Ms.Kelley’s office. Surrounding the stack of files, she shared a couple between Robin and Nancy, setting up the base of what you guys gathered.

“Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms.Kelley for help..they both were having headaches, bad headaches that just wouldn’t go away. And then..then the nightmares..trouble sleeping. They’d wake up in a cold sweat. Then they started seeing things..bad things..from their pasts. In these visions, they just, they kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually..everything ended.”

“Vecna’s curse.” Robin clarified.

Curse. You thought.

Stomach churning at the idea of not only yourself being cursed, but Max too. How could she be hit with any more hardship than she already has? Even as she had explained everything as perfectly as she could, there was still a heavy terror in her voice. One that hit you harder than you expected.

But what could you do? How could you be of any help when you were going through the same afflictions that her and the others have? The only difference in the patterns were the visions. Instead, you were tormented by a voice. A dreadful voice that seemed to know all your insecurities and dump them into your mind at the worst times.

You glanced around at your friends, their faces etched with sad, sombering looks as they listened to what Max had to say.

“There’s still time to figure things out,” you said, speaking up finally. “No one is giving up just yet.”

Max slowly shook her head. Her bright eyes still lingered with a few unshed tears as she tried to reason with you.

“Chrissy’s headache started a week ago, Fred’s, six days ago. I’ve been having them for five days.”

Your heart dropped at that, unsure what you could even say to help make things better for her. But to your dismay, she went on. Even through her own body betraying her regular strength, she couldn’t help but crumble at her conclusion.

“I don’t know how long I have. All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than twenty-four hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddamn clock!..So..” her breath was shaky as she stepped towards the desk. Gripping at the chair while she looked at everyone. “..it looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.”

There’s a loud clang in the distance. Causing the group to jump a bit and pause the conversation. Steve doesn’t hesitate to step up, turning to the others with a frown on his face. “Stay here.” he ordered calmly, and turned to leave the room. But not without grabbing a nearby lamp to use as a weapon.

It took only a couple of seconds of him leaving the room before you quietly muttered to the others. “Yeah, screw that.”

Trailing after him, you made sure to check the hall behind you guys before following in close after him. Without having to look back, you could hear as the others quietly did the same. Sticking close behind Steve as well as he ventured out to the source of the noise.

Steve barely glanced over his shoulder and noticed you all before he sighed disappointedly. “You gotta be kidding me.” he muttered to you.

“Like you aren’t used to us not listening.” you whispered back. “Besides, you’re using a damn lamp. It’s not like you’re ready to fight either.”

“It’s the best thing I got!” he hissed, trying to keep quiet. The sound of clattering stirred up again, shutting you both up.

In the distance you could hear the sound of feet running begin to pick up, creating an anxious chill to run down your back.

All around the rest of the group grew tense, waiting behind to see what would be coming into the view. Steve raised up the lamp, ready to take his aim on the target when suddenly a familiar face jumped into the hall.

Steve and Lucas began to yell once coming to head with each other, causing everyone to let out a panicked cry as they staggered back.

“IT’S ME!” Lucas cried out, holding his hands out before him defensively.

“Lucas?!” Nancy called out, flashing another light on his face.

“It’s me!” he cried again.

“JESUS, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU SINCLAIR?” Steve yelled, looking flushed as the panic came over him.

“I’m sorry!”

“I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!” he chided dramatically. You reached over for his arm and pulled him away from Lucas to rest back and give the kid some obvious air since he was panting particularly hard.

“Easy there, he-man.” you patted his arm, earning yourself an annoyed look from him.

“I’m sorry, guys, sorry! I was..I was biking for eight miles.” he held up a finger, holding onto the front of his gut. “Give me a second, shit.” he said before remembering what he really wanted to say. “We’ve got a code red!”

“What?” Steve asked, confused all over again.

“Dustin,” He said as he staggered over to your cousin, still panting as he laid out more crap for the group to worry about now. “I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they’ve gone like totally off the rails! They’re trying to capture Eddie, and they think you know where he is. You’re in terrible danger!”

Dustin, while taken back by this, still can’t help but keep the main problem at focus. “All right, Yeah, that definitely sucks.” he agreed. “But we’ve got bigger problems than Jason right now.”

You could only watch as Lucas slowly glanced over at Max. The two locked eyes and you could just see the pain in Max’s face. Without even realizing it, you’ve instinctively reached out for Steve’s hand. And thankfully, he doesn’t say anything but squeeze back.

“We wouldn’t be able to access the program for it here. The family computer isn’t exactly gonna cut it.” sighed Nancy, downing the rest of her water. “Besides, I’m not even sure how to write up the kind of files we’d need to pass as real.”

“There’s always a chance the library could have some examples.” you threw out, leaning against the counter to look at the two girls. “If we head there early enough, we could be the first ones in, type it out, and get it done by early morning.”

“We can try that, but there’s always a chance it might not work. Hawkins doesn’t really have the newest resources. Even today we had to dig pretty deep to find the newspaper headlines.” Robin countered, crossing her arms as she stood beside you.

The three of you had been in the kitchen for a good few minutes discussing what you guys could do.

After leaving the school, it was pretty easy to just collect everyone and keep watch of each other in the safety of the Wheeler basement. Especially with Max’s countdown recently coming into light to hang over the rest of you.

“Well,” Nancy piped up, “there was a rumor I heard at school..” You and Robin shared a confused look before nodding at her to continue.

“Jordan Wallis. He’s in the A.V. Club. They said his older brother Nick used to help create fake IDs and permits for a certain price..”

“Wasn’t his brother also sent to a Military school for getting caught?” Robin asked, looking a little skeptical.

“He was.” she nodded, scrunching her nose at the fact. “But, I’ve heard that Jordan and a few of his buddies have taken on the family business. They might know a thing or two about forging documents. Some of them are in the newspaper so I might have a way in if we need to talk to him.”

The three of you mulled it over for a minute. Contemplating how much this idea could work.

Nancy let out a long sigh, sounding tired as she set down the cup in the kitchen sink. “It’s a long shot in the dark, but–”

“It’s the best we got.” you finished for her, watching as she nodded her head. “I say we do it.”

Robin silently agreed with a shrug, looking over to Nancy. “Do you think you can reach them in time tonight?” she asked, scratching nervously at her cheek. “We’d have to leave first thing in the morning.”

She turned her watch over, noting the time before she offered a tight lip smile. “It’s not too late. I can make a couple of calls.”

“Then let’s get to it.”

Robin left the two of you to join the others downstairs, possibly giving Steve some sort of relief from ‘babysitting’ while you and Nancy ventured up her stairs. It was easier to conceal the type of phone calls you guys were making from her parents in the privacy of the room. And after about ten minutes, three different conversations, and one sweet minute of pleading, there was a plan made to get the files.

You waited until everything was set and ready for the next day to ask Nancy if you could use her phone for a moment alone. She seemed a little worried, but gave a small smile and quietly left the room.

Reaching for her phone, you stared down at the receiver, wondering what was suddenly coming over you as you pressed in the familiar number. A glance at your watch and you were thankful for once for the time difference.

“The number you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please try again at a later time.”

Frowning, you tried dialing it again.

“The number you are trying to reach is un–”

Ending the call, you tried to figure out just what could be holding the line. Since reaching Jonathan seemed out of play, you dialed the next person you needed to speak to.

It only took one ring for her to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Mom?”

“Oh, Duckie!” your mother gasped. “I was hoping I’d hear from you soon!”

The sudden joy in your Mother’s voice brought a blooming happiness over you. It had been a couple of weeks since you had the chance to properly speak with her, and hearing her chirpy tone now felt like just what you needed.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting for so long..”

“I would wait forever if it meant to get a call from you.” she cooed teasingly. “How are you, Duckie? Are you guys finally on Spring Break?”

“Yeah, just started on Friday. Are you and Dad at the beach house?”

“Yes! We just arrived the other night. We’re definitely missing you here. The Johnsons brought their little Dune Buggy that you liked to ride on the shore line.”

The memories of spending breaks over at the seaside home came flooding in. If you were living there now you’d find yourself spending the evening with your parents getting ready for a lush dinner. Not currently dwelling over what you were going to do to save a friend from the fate that you might very much fall into as well.

“Duckie?”

“Sorry,” you coughed, feeling your throat tighten up from your thoughts. “I’m just out of it today. Kinda tired.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re on break! You’ll get to go out with your friends, have fun date nights with Steve–By the way! How is he? It’s been so long since you’ve told us about you guys. We’ve got that picture of you two from his graduation in the drawing room. It’s too cute!”

Instantly you’re covering your face up. Not sure how you could even dive into explaining everything that was going on with Steve. Especially when right at this moment, you’re pretty sure you’re the last person whom he’d want talking about how well he is.

“Oh, uh, Steve’s fine.” you stuttered a bit. “He’s just been working really hard.”

“Hopefully not too hard. I know how much you two are in love~ Must be going crazy with seeing each other all the time..” she teased, nearly making you groan out in pain.

“Yeah, we’re..inseparable.” Balling your hand up in a fist, you lightly punched at your thigh, trying to keep it together. "How are you and Dad doing?"

"We're doing just fine," she sighed, her answer comforting you a little. "Your father's been trying to cut back hours in the firm, he wants to get some vacation time.. I’ve just finished designing a showroom for Margaret Chandler. She’s redone her whole home since her daughter graduated. But, mostly, we miss you. It's not the same without you around."

You swallowed hard, trying to push down the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you at the endearing words you’ve been needing to hear lately. "I miss you too, Mom. It’s kind of late here..um, I’ll try to call again soon, okay?”

“Okay, Duckie. Don’t wait too long this time. I wanna hear all that you’re up to, okay?”

“Yeah.” you managed to choke out. “I love you..so much.”

She let out a light laugh, possibly thinking you’re in a loving mood tonight. “I love you too! Talk to you soon.”

You waited until the line disconnected before slowly putting the phone back down. The silence of the room suddenly became so overwhelming.

Covering your face, you tried to control your breathing, reminding yourself to calm down before you went and join the others. But the tears still welled up in your eyes and your vision blurred.

Would that be your last conversation with your Mother? Should you attempt to reach Jonathan again? What protocols would one have to follow when dealing with a curse?

There was a dip on the bed next to you and suddenly you were being engulfed into a pair of arms. They were so warm, so familiar, you don’t even have to open your eyes as you pushed your way into his chest.

“It’s okay,” Steve whispered as his hands rubbed at your back. “You’re okay.”

You don’t cry as much as you’d like to. Not when you knew you had to be around the others in just a few moments. But you allow the escape of Steve’s hug to give you a few moments of peace until you were pulling back.

“I’m sorry.” you sniffled. “I just..I just...”

The words died right off your tongue and you watched as he merely brought a hand up. Rubbing the pad of his thumb across the tears that stained your cheeks. His warm eyes looked over your face as he slowly shook his head. “You don’t have to explain yourself, baby. I just wanna be here for you.”

His words nearly made you break down all over again and you can’t help but push your face back into his chest once more. Resting against his pecs while listening to the sounds of his comforting heartbeat. He placed his head gently on top of yours, simply holding you close while you took the chance to calm down.

The interaction between the two of you was very much the opposite of what you guys had just a couple of hours ago. When you both tried ways to jab at each other. But to your dismay, like all other fights, Steve would always come to comfort you when you felt you least deserved it.

“Hey do you think you guys can go–”

The sudden voice of Robin booming into the doorway caused you both to pull back from each other. Her blue eyes went wide at the sight of you two before slowly turning into a small grin. “Am I interrupting anything?” she asked teasingly, until she noticed the leftover tears in your eyes. “Shit, am I?”

“Robin,” Steve sighed, letting go of you so he could get up from the bed. He stepped towards the door and closed it enough that it was only him that Robin could see. Giving you the chance to fix yourself up. “What were you gonna ask us?”

“Sorry,” she chuckled nervously. “Do you think you guys could maybe get us some pizza? We’re all kinda starved and don’t wanna bother Mrs. Wheeler or anything.”

“Oh, I’m not sure that’s a good thing right now..” Steve said, most likely thinking you needed a minute. But the idea of stepping out for a moment sounded a lot more pleasing when you really thought it over. “Maybe we could just-”

“We can go get it.” you said softly.

The two peeked turned at your voice, watching as you got off the bed, wiped your cheeks and made your way to the door. You reached around Steve to open it up again, allowing Robin to get a better look of you again.

“Are you sure?” she asked, moving to place a hand on your shoulder. “If you guys need a second it’ll be fine. I can try and heat us some frozen waffles or something.”

“It’s fine, Robs.” you reassured her, attempting to shoot her a small smile. “We can go.” Turning to glance at Steve, you give him a hopeful look. “If you’re up for it?”

His eyes were skeptical as he took in your question. Most likely because he probably didn’t believe your sudden change in demeanor from moments ago on the bed. But to your surprise, he’s not against it and slowly nodded his head. “Let’s go.”

As Steve drove down the winding path toward town, the tension in the car was slightly nerve wracking.

Quietly you sat beside him, trying to keep your composure together. Not wanting to go back to how you were not five minutes ago in Nancy’s room. But there’s no denying what was bound to happen. The moment Steve came into the room and overheard you, you knew what he was going to ask. If not now, then eventually.

The problem was, were you willing to tell him the truth?

From just a glance you could see as his eyes focused on the road ahead. Jaw clenched and lips pursed in a tight line. He was most likely running ideas about how to approach this with you. Not that you had any clue on how he could. It made the guilt return back quickly.

The whole fight earlier felt petty now.

Max was now closer to falling into Vecna’s curse, and there was a possibility that you might be next. How could you even care about stupid things like exes and kisses? Not that he was aware of the severity. All he knew was that his ex girlfriend was acting out of normal for a couple of weeks now. But in reality, you were far into this web of problems that you weren’t sure you had it in you to trap him in it with you.

How could you drag him in when you weren’t sure how to get out?

Carefully, he veered off the main road into the quiet woods, just outside of the main parts of town. You could feel your heartbeat quicken. How many times could you lie to Steve and tell him you were okay? Would he easily see through your lie again and call out the bullshit? There was no way he could attempt to unravel the myriad of problems surrounding you.

But like always, despite all your best efforts to push him away, he just came back with a force.

The car came to a slow stop and he turned off the engine. Cutting off the only noise left between the two of you. Outside the chilly spring night brought a blue hue over the woods. It was the same way it looked the other night when you were left to find your way back home.

You must have been shivering at the memory because suddenly Steve was slipping off his jacket and placing it over you. His eyes stayed focused on making sure you were covered up before he leaned back in his seat with a sigh. The smell of his cologne still lingered over his jacket and you can’t help but allow the heat of the fabric to comfort you briefly, giving you a small relief before you cleared your throat to speak up finally.

“So,” you said lamely, pointing out towards the field. “Chilly night isn’t it?”

He stared quietly, raising a brow at you like he was expecting some sort of breakdown.

“I, for one, think that it is too cold for Spring. Back home, Spring nights felt crisp but still nice enough for a walk.”

"So you’re just gonna act like what happened in Nancy’s room didn’t happen?" he frowned, his voice laced with worry.

You shook your head, trying not to dive into that as you plastered on a smile, hoping it would be enough to deflect his concern. "Nothing happened. That was just me being homesick.."

“Homesick? You’re kidding me..”

“It’s the truth! I haven’t been away from home in so long. It’s complicated. Not to mention, it’s been a long day and I’m a little tired.”

He scoffed lightly, his hand reaching out to grip onto the wheel tightly. "Bullshit, Trouble. You look like you haven't slept in days, you’re crying after a phone call home, you were just in an accident the same night you saw a girl die from some curse. When are you going to finally be honest with me, here?”

“I’m fine.” you replied, voice a little too forced. "Just... worried about Max too, you know? With everything that's been happening. It’s a lot.”

Steve's brow furrowed, his gaze lingering for a moment too long. He could always see right through you. Always sensing when something was off. It was both a blessing and a curse, especially now when you were desperately trying to keep your own secret buried.

"Look, we’re all worried, but I know there’s more. You're not just worried about Max, are you?" His voice was soft, though laced with a hint of hurt.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry as you tried to ignore the guilt coming back in your stomach again. "What do you mean?"

"It’s him too?" has asked carefully, his eyes never leaving yours. "You’re worried about Eddie too. I mean..that kiss..”

“Well, I am worried he might get attacked by a mob of evangelicals. But that kiss, it was just..it was nothing.” you said quickly, “He does it all the time. It’s more so to annoy me than to mean anything else.”

“That’s not what it looked like to me.” he mumbled, glancing out the window.

A lump formed in your throat. Trying to push out any sort of excuse that could ease him of the hurt he had over what transpired earlier. All this time, Eddie was the only thing that helped distract you from Steve. He didn’t care about making anything deep, and neither did you. It was perfect.

But now Steve was here, and he was trying to help you, and all you could think was to apologize for making things worse.

"I'm sorry, Steve," you whispered, reaching out to gently place a hand on his arm. "I want to say that it’s nothing, because it is nothing to me. I’m not even thinking about that. Right now I just want to work on making sure Max is okay."

“There’s more you’re not telling me.”

“I‘ve said all that I need to say—“

"No, nope. I’m not letting you avoid this," Steve said firmly, turning to face his body towards you. "We don’t lie to each other, okay? Even when you’re mad you always eventually tell me what’s wrong. But now? You’re just..”

“I’m just trying to keep focus, Steve.”

He quickly shook his head, frowning now. “You can't keep shutting me out, pretending like everything's okay when it's clearly not. I'm not going to stand by and watch you keep whatever it is that’s eating you up inside! I’ve made that mistake before and I won’t do it again.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him it wasn’t anything he should be concerned over, but the words caught in your throat. How else could you fail in keeping him safe when even keeping him out of the loop caused him to feel this hurt?

But before you could think of anything to say to him, his voice softened, his eyes searching yours as if the answers were right there. "I just want to help you, honey..I lo— I care about you, And it's killing me to see you like this. I made a promise to you a long time ago and all I do is keep breaking it.”

“Promise?” you whispered, leaning in close to him. “What promise?”

He reached out to cup the side of your face. Warming your cheek with the palm of his hand as he came in to rest his forehead against yours. “Last summer. Back in my room, I said no one was ever going to hurt you again. Because no one was going to look out for you better than me.” he whispered back. You stayed quiet, trying to take in those words again. Steve nervously licked over his lips, scared to push the limit of the conversation. “Do you remember why?”

The memory hit you instantly. The way you two looked over each other, trying to make sense of all the pain and suffering you both endured after Billy and being captured by the Russians. You never wanted to see Steve hurt again. You still don’t. His words, however, came back to your mind and you found your eyes slightly prickling with tears.

“..because I’m your girl.”

“That’s right.” he sighed, “You’re my girl..”

Without saying anything, he pulled you into his arms. Holding you so tightly, as if his arms could shield you from the world and all the doom that wanted to make its way in. And truthfully, in that moment, it really felt like they could.

“Can we just..forget about everything? Just for right now?” you asked, keeping your face pressed into his chest. “I don’t want to talk or think about breakups, exes, fighting, or curses. I just..want this right now. Just us.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, pulling back so he could hold your face in his hands. “We can do that.”

There’s a little disappointment in his eyes. Probably from the lack of progress in the conversation. But you’re grateful for the pause. Needing to be selfish just once more with Steve, and focus on the kindness and sincerity of his words that made the ache in your chest lighter.

“Can you say it again?” you asked, leaning close to his face. The faint brush of his breath flushed over your skin and you reached out to place a hand over his chest. Basking in his closeness to you.

A small, pleased sort of smile, pulled at his lips as he nodded his head slowly. He reached out to push a hair away from your face before he finally spoke again.

“You’re my girl.” A kiss to your forehead.

“You’re my girl.” A kiss to your cheek.

He took his time leaning down, only brushing his lips briefly over yours, affectionately. “My girl.” he breathed before he sealed the moment with one last kiss.

The night thankfully didn’t result in more crying. After the two of you allowed yourselves just a little bit of time to just forget everything, you remembered that you had a whole group of people to feed. Some who were kind enough not to point out how long it took for you guys to receive the food.

Eventually the full bellies led for some to go in and out of falling asleep. You took the chance of having a quieter basement go over everything. Sleep, as much as it called to you, did not sound like a good idea. Not when every night now it’s led to another nightmare.

You managed to keep yourself busy, going over all the files again as well as taking in the new information about this Victor Creel guy. Now and then you’d peek over and watch Max over at the desk. She had grown quiet after eating, only asking Nancy for a pen, paper, and envelopes before settling into the back of the room.

It was hard not to want to pester her with worrisome questions. You knew better than to poke her with that kind of approach. But it didn’t help ease you at all. Not when you knew she was probably scared out of her mind.

Eventually the night passed and it wasn’t until morning came that Nancy and Robin left to go try and reach one of the boys who Nancy had called the night before. You offered to join them but they pressed for you to stay back when they noticed your tiredness. It was decided you’d stay back and attempt a bit of a nap.

After a brief hour or two spent up in Nancy’s quiet room, you made your way down to the basement again after downing two pain relief pills. The dreaded headache only turned worse after the reveal of symptoms. But now you were up again and seeking out the company of the others.

You had just sat down beside Dustin, relaxing against the cushion when the other two boys decided to venture into the small pile of information left for them to read over again. It wasn’t until Steve’s grumbling that you peeked an eye open to look over at them.

“Okay, be honest. Uh, you guys understand any of this?”

“No.” Lucas sighed defeatedly.

“Pretty straightforward.”

“Pretty much all of it.”

You and Dustin looked over at each other approvingly before casting a glance over at Steve who was frowning over at the two of you now.

“Oh, straightforward, really?” Steve asked, perplexed, eyes shifting between the two of you.

“Well, what’s confusing to you?” Dustin sighed, tiredly. “So far, everyone Vecna cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him.”

“Exactly,” you chimed in. “Which is why he’s our best lead on this.”

“Yeah, that’s assuming he was cursed, Hendersons, which we don’t even know.” Steve muttered, a hard frown on his face. “God, How can Vecna have existed in the fifties? It doesn’t make sense.”

“As far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down. She opened a gate to it.”

“Jonathan and I asked Will about this before, he mentioned that the Upside Down looked sort of out of time. Like everything was aged. But that was only from the area surrounding his house, not sure about the whole town..” you said, trying to remember if Nancy had ever mentioned anything. Dustin seemed to agree with your direction, snapping a finger at you.

“The Upside Down has probably been around for thousands of years. Millions. I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs.”

Steve couldn’t help but grow even more frustrated at that. Waving his arms over in a crossing motion. “Dinosaurs? What are we–”

“Okay! Okay!” Lucas intervened. “But if a gate didn’t exist in the fifties, how did Vecna get through?”

“Oh! And how’s he getting through now?” Steve threw in, pointing to Lucas.

“And why now?”

“And why then? Just pops out in the fifties, kills one family, and he's like, ‘Yeah, I’m good!’ and poof, he just disappears. Just..gone?” You watched carefully as Steve put together his own idea, waving his fingers in the air dramatically. “Then only to return thirty years later and start killing some random teens? No, I don’t buy it.”

He glared down at the newspaper again before starting up again. “Straight forward my ass.” he mumbled, turning to go over to his seat. “You know what? Honestly, Hendersons, a little humility now and then, it wouldn’t hurt you guys.”

Dustin is quick to apologize. Muttering out a ‘sorry’ while he allowed Steve the small win.

The man looked over at you next, raising a brow questionably, but all you could do is chuckle at his reaction. Holding your hands up defeatedly before settling back into a resting position. With a flick to the paper and cross of his legs, Steve finally seemed to relax again.

It was only a few more seconds of silence before Dustin changed the subject.

“Any idea what she’s writing?” The four of you slowly diverted your attention to the girl in the back. She was still quiet, working at the desk like she did late into the night. “Did she sleep?”

“No,” you answered softly, trying not to speak so loud and clue her in on your guys' tactless conversation about her.

“I mean, would you?” Lucas asked.

“I wouldn’t.” you answered honestly. That earned you a worried glance from Steve. Thankfully, before any questions could come out from that, the loud shut of the basement door cut into the room.

Nancy and Robin quickly came down the stairs, a small approving look on their faces as they held onto the folders you had been patiently waiting for.

“Okay, so, we have a plan.” Nancy announced, mostly to those unaware of last night’s conversation. The files were given to the others, allowing them a clue in while Robin explained where they had gone that morning.

“Thanks to Nancy’s minions, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame.”

“Ugh, Notre Dame?” you asked, earning a small amused look from your friends before they passed you the last folder. Apparently you’d be joining them this time.

“I’m now Ruth.”

“And I’m Rose.”

“Ruth?” Steve asked amusedly. You would have joined in on the silly name, if your eyes had not landed over the name at the top of your page.

“Rhonda?!” you gaped, eyes flickering between the paper and your two friends. “Of all the names–”

“The Beach Boys happened to be playing on the radio when we couldn’t think of another name.” Robin excused quickly, waving her hand to point over to the student status card. “Look at your pretty extracurriculars.”

Dustin leaned over to glance at your file. “You guys do have nice GPAs.” he said, throwing in some positive feedback.

“Thanks.” Nancy said cheerfully before explaining further. “So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Victor Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics–”

“To which they said no.” Robin threw in, adding some reality into the plans.

“But, we landed a three o’clock with the director.”

“Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor.”

“Then maybe we can rid Max of this curse.” Nancy finished, hopefulness in her voice.

“All easy things, of course.” you muttered sarcastically, handing your file out to the small rotation that was happening with the boys.

“Yeah, about that.” Steve joined in, “We’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework, and, uh, we got some questions.”

“Lots of questions.” Lucas emphasized.

“So do we,” Nancy agreed. “Hopefully, Victor has the answers.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second.” You all looked over to Steve as he confusedly looked over the papers before him. “Where’s mine?”

It was only a matter of seconds into Nancy’s room that Steve went into a mini tantrum.

“Nancy, you’re outta your mind if you think I’m babysitting again.”

“Okay, first of all, they’re not babies anymore. And Max is in real danger. She needs people around her.” she turned to open her closet before stopping. “Also, It wasn’t just my idea, you know.” she said to him, throwing a glance over at you.

Steve looked at you with wide eyes.

“Way to throw me under the bus.” you muttered, making your way to lie down on her perfectly made bed. Thankfully he didn’t let that part of the conversation linger and returned back to the main focus.

“I know she needs people. But why does it always have to be me?”

“Oh my God, you have a Tom Cruise poster!” Robin gushed as she came into the room now. The excitement on her face is so opposite of Steve’s annoyed one that you can’t help but be entertained from your spot. “You have a Tom Cruise poster~.”

“That’s old!” Nancy replied, trying to justify her previous celebrity crush.

“You act like you’ve never been in a girl’s room before.” you chuckled to your friend, watching her go through Nancy’s tapes next.

“This is Nancy’s room, It’s like a whole new personality to find out.”

“Can you please not touch anything?” she tried telling Robin. Again, Steve is left to try and bring the focus back onto him and his current agenda.

Leaving the babysitting business.

“I just-I just- I can’t do anything here, Nance. Maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude. I don’t know. I could turn on my..my charm.”

“Not the charm we need.” she shut down kindly, still hurting his ego in the process.

“Ouch,” he turned before he caught you watching comfortably from the bed. “Well, why does she get to go?” he pouted, pointing over at you

“Hey!” you frowned, sitting up now. “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing! Just that if I’m stuck babysitting again then so should you.”

“We need her.” Nancy butt in, poking her head out from the closet. “Not only is she Ivy League type, but some of her assets might be what we need to convince them if all else fails.”

“What assets?” you and Steve asked at the same time.

“She means your boobs.” Robin said plainly, holding onto one of Nancy’s sunglasses from her dresser. “Let’s be real, she’s as hot as she is smart so it’ll be of use when we need to get through.”

You couldn’t help but glance down at your chest, frowning at the ‘assets’ in question before your eyes landed back on Steve for his reaction. He’s unfortunately looking at the same thing as you were, nodding his head despite the frustrated frown still on his face.

“I’d like to make a note that her confidence is good enough to convince anyone she belongs in a room.” Nancy threw in, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Plus, she can charm the pants off pretty much any guy that comes her way.”

“I suddenly feel dirty.” you scoffed, rolling off the bed. “But I suppose I have no other choice but to play the role of femme fatale.”

“I can charm.” he grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve charmed the charmer.” he pointed out, looking at you again.

Nancy looked over at him with a sad smile as she tried to reassure him of things again. “I just– Look, I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar, okay? This is a lifelong student of the world. And if we’re gonna win him over, we’re gonna have to convince him that we are too. That, like him, we are true academic scholars.”

“Holy shit.” Robin whispered while playing the music box loudly. “There’s a little ballerina in here.”

It’s comically quiet for a second while the three of you gaped over at her. Steve can’t help but look at Nancy dumbfoundedly.

“Academic scholar?” he asked, using his hand to point attention to his friend. “She’s giving you an academic scholar vibe? Yeah..”

“No,” Nancy replied honestly. “But, she will.”

You all cast your eyes over the frilly pink shirt Nancy had been rummaging for her in the closet for. It’s a lovely top you’ve seen your friend wear before. But for someone like Robin, whom you’re pretty sure you haven’t even seen in a skirt before, it must have been a frilly nightmare.

“Oh, please, tell me that you’re joking.” muttered Robin, horrified.

You made a mental note that while you were more than happy to be a team player, you weren’t going to be walking around a mental asylum cinched into Nancy’s clothes. “I’m going to shop over at the Karen Wheeler selection.”

Leaving the room, you quickly made your way over to Nancy’s parents room. Thankful that the other members of the Wheeler family had set out for a busy day to give you the chance to sneak in. It was only a second later that Steve came in after you. Frown still on his face but attitude slowly disappeared when he noticed you started to change.

“I don’t think I need any help here, Steve.” you said playfully, reaching for one of Karen’s two piece suits.

It was a pastel green peplum top with a nicely fitted blazer skirt. The pastel color wasn’t your thing but it was paired up with a silky white button shirt. It made the whole ensemble look mature with the small bit of sultriness you needed. “Props to you, Karen.” you mused, squeezing inside the skirt.

You were about to reach over for the top next when Steve suddenly took your hands. “Trouble, we need to talk.” he said softly, stopping you from continuing getting dressed.

“You talk, I’ll get dressed.”

"I don't like this," Steve said while he watched you reach back for the top again. "You guys don't even know what you're walking into. And you’re doing it alone"

“How can three people be alone?” You asked, letting out a long sigh before buttoning up your shirt. “Also, we know what we’re walking into. A guarded asylum, run by staff who we’re hopefully going to trick into letting us interview one of their high risk schizophrenics patients.” you said simply, reaching over for the blazer next. “Kinda, straightforward.”

That earned you a tired look.

"Are you sure about this, Trouble?" His voice was laced with worry, his eyes searching yours for some sort of reassurance.

“Look, we’re just going to ask some questions and hopefully get out of there with something useful.”

“But what if something happens? What if you guys get caught?”

“Then you’ll get to be that brave Knight in white Nikes, again, right?” You teased, reaching out to cup the side of his face. He let out a heavy sigh, resting his hand on top of yours as he leaned in closer.

“Trouble, you know what I me—”

You pressed your lips against his, kissing him gently and stopping him from running into more scenarios. “We have each other, we’ll be safe.” You promised, pecking his lips once more before you pulled back to look at him.

Steve's concern persisted, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation. "I just don't want anything to happen to you," he murmured.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me.” You said softly, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. “Worst case scenario is we get arrested for false documents and that’ll just be a phone call to my Dad. Which Dustin or Max will help get for you.”

He nodded his head slowly and you gave a small pat to his cheek before letting go to switch out for some cute pumps Karen had hidden in the back of her closet. The outfit looked good, but was it enough for what you guys needed to do?

“All right,” you sighed, grabbing his attention again while you fixed your hair. Hoping it was still fine after having such a restless night. “How do I look?”

Steve, for the first time, didn’t seem to be bothered now that he was watching as you turned in spot to give him an overall view. His hands reached out to grab at your hips as he pulled you closer. Letting his height tower over you while he gave you a small smirk.

“Like a scholar,” he murmured. “A very pretty scholar, who uses her kisses to try to make me forget how worried I am about her.”

Your heart beats a little fast, but you find yourself almost pressing up to him. “And is it working?”

“Sorta.”

Nancy suddenly called out your name from down the hall, cutting the conversation short.

Or so you thought.

Steve waited until you were walking toward the door before he reached for your hand and tugged you back into his arms. You’re about to ask what he was doing when he leaned in to press his lips against yours again.

The kiss is deeper this time. More needy and hot than the sweet calming one you gave to him. Instantly, your body fell for it and tried to mold against his. There were always going to be unsettled feelings between the two of you, but the physical ones never seemed to be the problem.

It’s not until Robin called out your name, more aggravated than the way Nancy did, that he reluctantly pulled back. His eyes were warm, and looking at you in a way that made your cheeks burn a bit. "Just... be careful, okay, Rhonda?" he pleaded, his knuckles brushing lightly against your cheek.

The simple touch sent a shiver down your spine and you nodded meekly before offering a faint smile. “We will,” you reassured him. “Mr. Charmer.”

He shot back a beautiful smile as he finally let you go. From down the hall you could see as he picked up your discarded clothes while he whistled a familiar tune that tugged at your heart. It wasn’t until you were at the bottom of the stairs that you noticed your slightly disgruntled friends.

Nancy was rubbing the side of her head while Robin awkwardly kept adjusting at her bra. You open your mouth to tease her about her being dressed up as a Nancy clone, when she held up a hand before you could make any comment. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” she grunted before stalking to the front door.

Nancy and you were left rushing after her until you were all outside. The other two led the way towards Nancy’s station wagon when you stopped and noticed Steve’s car parked nearby. The front windows were down a bit, giving you a look inside to something you’ve been aching to see again.

Running to the door, you reached your hand in and carefully tugged on the sun visor until you were able to pull the metal out. Not wanting the other girls to catch you, you ran back towards the car and quickly climbed into the back seat.

It’s not until the drive over had begun that you finally opened up your palm and stared down at the item. The sun perfectly illuminated the shining S, giving you something of comfort to have it in your possession again. You quickly pushed the necklace into the pocket of your jacket, feeling it relax your silently anxious nerves.

“So what did you steal from his car?” Nancy asked, looking out the front window as she pulled out of her driveway onto the street. Her blue eyes flickered over to you in the rear view mirror, almost like she already knew.

“Just...something for luck.”

The three of you arrive at Pennhurst in a good amount of time. There was still time left in the day to get what you needed and hopefully return to Max before the twenty-four hours were up.

As you all exited the car, you couldn’t help but watch as Robin struggled to balance herself in the very low heels that Nancy had her in. “I feel like I’m watching a newborn deer walk.” you said with a sly grin.

The girl bobbed her head over at you, giving you a glare as she adjusted her footing again.

“Do not test me, Henderson. I can’t breathe in this thing, and I’m itchy. I’m itching all over!” she huffed.

“It’s not all about comfort.” Nancy retorted. “Okay? We’re academics.”

“Who are evidently coming straight from Easter brunch.” Robin hissed, stumbling once more before she gripped at the side of her underarms. “Also, this bra that you gave me is really pinching my boobs!”

“We’re also college girls and college girls definitely don’t say boobs. Not to mention, they know how to handle wearing heels. Especially measly one inch heels, Robs.”

“Oh, I hope you get rotten eggs in your basket this year.” she swore, giving you a small glare as she tugged at the sides again. Nancy let out a small, tired, exhale and turned to look over at the two of you.

“Okay. Could you two just let me do the talking? If that’s even possible?” she asked, sounding overwhelmed.

“It’s not only possible, it’s inevitable.” Robin threw back. “Because shortly, I’ll be dead from strangulation.”

Somehow you three managed to cover up the discomfort between the three of you in order to enter inside and get in for the meeting with Dr. Hatch.

It’s a wasted few short minutes of him overgoing all three files while you guys patiently sat around his desk. Robin somehow, got between the two of you, and started to itch again. Nearly getting the attention from the man now and then.

“Three point nine GPAs.” He mused offhandedly. “The three of you…impressive.”

“And this is a recommendation from Professor Brantley.” Nancy added in, offering the man one of the other letters written up from the Newspaper lackeys.

“Yeah, I know Larry. Quite well, actually.” The director replied, making all three of you sit up a bit straighter. His eyes looked from the paper as he gave off a small teasing smile. “Eh, you know what they say, ‘Those who can’t do, teach.’”

The other two girls give off an encouraging chuckle, while you can’t help but open your mouth at this guy’s slightly patronizing behavior.

“I always felt Aristotle said it better,” you pointed out, leaning forward to throw off one of your more charming smiles. “Those who know, do. Those that understand, teach.”

The other two girls nervously glanced your way, raising a brow at your sudden opinion. Over at the desk, sat Hatch as he took in the words you said. Only letting out an amused chuckle before he nodded his head. “That is a positive way of looking at it.”

“That’s actually why we’re here.” Nancy spoke up. “I mean, we can only learn so much in a classroom.”

“Mm. And I’m sympathetic to your struggle, truly. But there is a protocol to visiting a patient like Victor. You have to put in a request, and then you have to undergo a screening process, at which point the board will make a decision.”

You felt frustrated hearing his reply. All those were logical reasons that you three did not have time for. Glancing to your right, you watched as Robin began to squirm in her seat. Adjusting the collar and edges of her skirt over and over as she tried not to scratch. You reached out to grab at her hand, giving her a warning look that only caused her to pout at you.

“I can see you’re disappointed. But I’m more than happy to give you a tour of our facility. Perhaps you can even speak to some patients in our low-security wing.”

“And we’d..we would love that.” Nancy said, looking over at you guys to nod in agreement. “It’s just that, um..our thesis is due next month.”

“And you’re out of time.” he figured.

“Unfortunately, yes.” you sighed, trying to sound a little guilty about it. “Things got a little pushed back–”

“Whose fault is that?” he asked sharply, nearly making you throw him a glare. From the side you watched Nancy’s eyes widen a bit as she attempted to throw in a bit of damage control.

“Ours. Absolutely. And I do apologize–”

“Don’t apologize, Ruth. Screw that!” Robin interrupted. “The fact of the matter is, we did put in a request months ago and were denied. And then we reapplied and were denied again. And coming here was our last-ditch effort to save our thesis. And I really..I can’t breathe in this thing!” she said, turning to glance at Nancy.

“Well, Rose, maybe you’d like to go outside and get some air. I think Rhonda and I can handle this.” she insisted, giving Robin a pleading look.”

“Maybe I should, Ruth!” she said, slapping at the arms of her chair before she got up from her seat. “Because I’m starting to think this whole thing is a colossal mistake. I’m breaking out in a rash. My boobs hurt. And I’ll tell you the truth, Anthony. May I call you Anthony? These aren’t actually my clothes. I borrowed them because I wanted you to take us seriously. Because nobody takes girls seriously in this field. They just don’t.”

From your seat you can’t help but gape at your friend because either she’s been taking acting lessons without your knowledge or that shirt was really so torturous that it was giving her the best ending speech of her life.

“We don’t look the part or whatever. But can I tell you a story? 1978, I was at summer camp. And my counselor Drew told me and everyone in Cabin C, the true story of the Victor Creel Massacre. And little Petey McHew..You know Petey, right, Ruth, Rhonda?”

“Of..of course.” Nancy stuttered.

“Totally!” you chuckled nervously, wondering where this was going to go.

“Yeah. Little Petey McHew started sobbing right there on the spot. Full-on hyperventilating. And all the other campers, they couldn’t sleep for weeks. And I couldn’t sleep either but not because I was scared. Because I was obsessed with the question, ‘What would drive a human being to commit such unimaginable acts?’ Other kids, they wanted to be astronauts, basketball players, rockstars. But I wanted to be you! I wanted to be you. So, forgive me if I’ll now try anything in my power, including wearing this ridiculous outfit, if I might get to speak to the man that ignited my passion and learn a little bit more about how his twisted, but let’s face it, totally fascinating mind works. So, yes, we don’t have the official paperwork, but don’t tell me that cry-baby Petey McHew wouldn’t have gotten an audience with Victor in a matter of moments if he’d asked politely, because you and I both know that he would.”

A beat of pause and you were practically glued to the edge of your seat. Glancing between a very red faced Robin and what looked like a suddenly moved Hatch.

“So..ten minutes with Victor. That’s all I ask.”

It felt like forever as the three of you stared over at the man with bated breath.

“Follow me, girls.”

Without question, you all shot out from your seats and quickly followed the man out. Robin stood proudly between the two of you, allowing Hatch to lead the way while she held her palms out for you both. Nancy and you happily gave her a pleased smirk before pulling your hands out and giving Robin the well deserved high-five.

By the time you guys were walking the grounds of Pennhurst, the sun had died even more. Throwing the whole yard into an overcast gray as the four of you made the way to Creel’s holding.

“These are our gardens.” Hatch announced. “Beautiful aren’t they? We allow them two hours of outside time a day.”

“Can’t they just escape?” Robin asked, glancing at one of the patients waving nearby.

“They could. But the vast majority choose to be here. They like it here.”

“And they’ve said this themselves?” you muttered, worriedly glancing over to a particular woman near a flower bed. Something about this place didn’t feel right to you and his indifferent tone wasn’t helping you feel any better about it.

The three of you are led into a building. The soft sounds of music could be heard from outside the room before you guys walked in.

“This is one of our more popular areas. The listening room.” Hatch said in a much quieter voice. “We found that music has a particularly calming effect on the broken mind. The right song, particularly one which holds some personal meaning, can prove a salient stimulus.”

The right song..

That sparked an interest within you. Recalling how just the other night, Eddie managed to calm down your bad dream with the simple strum of the familiar tune.

Hatch straightened up as he led you girls towards a room in the back. Voice turned eerie as he went on. “But there are those who are beyond a cure.”

Down the stairs, what looked like a basement floor, stood a lonely guard. Curiously glancing at the four of you guys while you made your descent.

“Uh, Dr. Hatch, do you think it might be possible for us to speak to Victor alone?”

He paused at that, casting a shocked glance at her question. “Alone?” he asked, walking back over. You perked up, offering him a kind smile as you tried to help make the idea sound not as crazy as it really was.

“I have to second that request. I think it’d be beneficial for the three of us to gain hands-on experience in this.”

Robin nervously nodded along with you, throwing in her piece.

“I-I think that we would just love the challenge of speaking with Victor without the safety net of an expert such as yourself. Then we could really rub it in Professor Bradley’s face. When we get back to campu–”

“Professor Bradley?” he interrupted. “I don’t believe I know a Professor Bradley.”

“Brantley!” Nancy corrected, trying to fix Robin's slip up. “She..she meant to say Brantley.”

“Didn’t I say Brantley? What did I say?”

“You keep messing up today!” you playfully chided, forcing a giggle to come out as you lightly slapped the back of her hand.

“Sorry, silly me. Words, letters.” she chuckled nervously. “Guess I’m just nervous..I mean, excited. SO excited to speak with Victor. Preferably, as they mentioned, alone?”

Much to your dismay, the suspicion never left his eyes as he watched over the three of you quietly. You’re beginning to think that this whole plan has failed and that you three would be leaving with nothing. But soon enough his stoic face broke as he spoke.

“Yes,” he said, smiling over his frown now. “Why not? You’ve caught me in a rebellious mood.”

You forced a chuckle with the others, hopefully sounding enthralled with his humor enough that he’ll return back to trying to be charming once more.

“There’s something rather urgent I need to check on anyway, so.. Sure.” he said before looking towards the guard. “Keep a close eye on them.”

With that, he quickly made his leave to the stairs. All of you shot off thanks to him as he made his exit before following the guard into the area.

It’s an ominous hall of cells. Clamoring and groaning with other patients that seemingly weren’t allowed the freedom of wandering the lawns of the asylum. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat with every step after the guard, not daring looking into the cells of the patients you walked past while the guard laid out some rules.

“Do not startle him. Do not touch him. Do not pass him anything. Stand five feet away from the bars at all times. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” the three of you said together.

He approached the last cell of the block, using his baton to hit against the metal bars to the patient inside.

“Victor!” he sang out. “Today’s your lucky day! You got visitors…real pretty ones.”

There’s an echoing scratching noise that had you wincing slightly. Victor said nothing, keeping his back to you guys.

“Must be in one of his moods.” shrugged the guard. “Have fun.”

Without another taunt, he left down the hall from where you came from. Leaving the three of you to get started on the work finally. Nancy is the first one confident enough to speak out to the man, ignoring the fact that he was quietly snarling to himself in the chair.

“Victor?” she called out gently. “My name is Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. And these are my friends.”

You and Robin quickly tell him your names, careful with how loudly you spoke out to him.

“Um, we have some questions.” Robin added, voice higher with nerves.

“I don’t talk to reporters.” Victor spat out. “Hatch knows that.”

“We’re not reporters.” Nancy quickly, but gently, corrected. “We’re here because..we believe you. And because..we need your help.”

Robin took her turn, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “Whatever killed your family, we think it’s back.”

Silence hung heavy in the air as you three waited for a response. When none came, you sucked in a sharp breath, summoning every ounce of courage your friends had to come to you. "And we're not leaving until we get some answers, Victor.."

All your words must have sparked something of an interest to the man, causing him to pull away from the desk and emerge from the shadows. Revealing an older man. Worn down by years of torment that must have come from that night. But the most haunting part of his appearance were his eyes. Swollen eyes shut by some previous stab wound.

But even with that in mind, there was something about his gaze that felt off. As if he was staring right through you.

“..When he attacks, our friend described it as a trance. Like a waking nightmare. That’s why we think he’s coming for her next. Does any of this, anything we’ve told you, sound like what happened to your family?”

From your spot you could hear as Victor’s breath began to shake. Almost fearfully.

“Victor.” Nancy spoke out again. “I know this is hard–”

“You don’t know anything!” he bellowed.

His voice echoed throughout the hall. Almost shutting up any other noise around you guys.

“You’re right.” Nancy nodded slowly. “We don’t know. That’s why we’re here. To learn, to understand.”

“We need to know how you survived that night.” Robin added, earning a disbelieving laugh from the man.

“Survived?” he asked sardonically. “Is that what you call this? Did I survive?” He slowly approached the bars, almost as if he knew where to direct his growing anger towards. The three of you pressed closer to each other. Keeping a safe space back as he spoke again. “No, I assure you, I am still very much in hell.”

Surprisingly, that did not stop Victor from beginning his story.

The return home from war, the new fortune that fell into his family’s lives, and the promise of a new chapter in their lives. The reminiscence in his voice almost sounded..loving, far beyond the tone of a man who had murdered those he spoke of.

“It was a magnificent home. Alice said it looked like it was from a fairy tale.”

He spoke of the name so fondly, almost like sighing her name brought relief to him.

“Alice. Was this your daughter?” Nancy asked.

“Mhm, Yeah. But Henry, my boy, he was a sensitive child..and I could see he felt something was wrong.” His voice turned low for his other child. Sort sombering to his previous mood. “We had one month of peace in that house. And then it began..”

He shook his head slowly. Memories seemingly coming to his mind.

“Dead animals, mutilated, tortured, began to appear near our home. Rabbits, squirrels, chickens, even dogs. The police chief blamed the attacks on a wildcat. This..” He paused to let out another feigned laugh. “This was no wildcat. This was an evil. An evil neither animal nor human.”

He walked towards the bars again as he whispered out next words.

“This was a spawn of Satan. A demon. And it was even closer than I realized.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine. Trying to picture out what it was that could have been attacking their home. But like the night you saw Chrissy die, you knew that force was unseeable. That its fury came with no warning.

“My family began to have encounters conjured by this demon. Nightmares. Waking, living nightmares. This demon, it seemed to take pleasure in tormenting us. Even poor, innocent Alice.”

So this curse spared no one. You couldn’t help but think. If his daughter wasn’t safe from it, neither would Max. And that made your stomach turn even more. You pushed your hand into your pocket, squeezing around the metal of the necklace. It brought a moment of comfort until you listened to more of Victor’s story.

“It wasn’t long before I began to have encounters of my own.” he recalled, turning away from you all. “I suppose all evil must have a home. And though I had not a rational explanation for it, I..I could sense this demon..always close. I became convinced it was hiding, nesting, somewhere within the shadows of our home.”

You can’t help but think about this presence. This sense of dread, always creeping up on you these days. Like it was haunting you.

“It had cursed our town. It had cursed our home..It had cursed us.”

A hand reached out for your arm and you glanced down to see Nancy gripping onto you while her face stared hard at Victor. Quietly, you gave you a small reassuring pat before watching as Victor flopped down onto his bed defeatedly.

“It took Virginia first.”

The flashback of Chrissy’s body being twisted and pulled into different directions came to mind. You barely knew her and it shocked you to your core. You couldn’t imagine the horrors if you had to see it happen to someone you loved. Someone like St–

“I tried to get the children out, to save them!” he exclaimed, pulling back your attention. “..But I was back to France, back in the war..It..it was a memory. I had thought German soldiers were inside. I ordered its shelling. I was wrong.”

Victor physically started to become tormented by his own words. The very words that must have been half the torture as whatever was going through his mind. You felt yourself being pulled in, wishing to help this poor man, but you had to hear it all.

“This demon, it was taunting me. And I was sure it would take me, just as he’d taken my Virginia. But then..I heard..another voice. At first, I believed it was an angel. And I..I followed her, only to find myself in a nightmare far worse…While I was away, the demon took my children. Henry slipped into a coma shortly after that. A week later, he died.”

Without realizing it, you pressed against the metal bars. Listening to what you thought might be the very future you were to face. But even with that new fear in you, you couldn’t help but seek out one missing piece.

“Did you hear it?” you whispered.

“Hear what?” he muttered back.

“The ticking..”

He turned his whole body around, facing in your direction calmly before he nodded his head.

“Yes..it was there..it was always there.”

You staggered back, hope fleeting quickly as you came to realize that even with your small difference in things. Your fate would end the same. From the side you could feel Nancy and Robin cast you a worried look before Victor spoke up again.

“I tried to join them…I tried!” His voice sounded almost like a small child, pleading for forgiveness to his upset Mother. He raised up two fists and pressed them to his eyes. It weighed down on your already heavy heart.

“Hatch stopped the bleeding.” he sobbed. “He wouldn’t let me join them!”

The three of you watched as he slowly lied down on the bed. Reaching up to his pillow to hold close to his face for comfort.

“The angel you followed, who was she?” asked Nancy gently.

He didn't answer as he swayed gently. Only humming out the best that he could in his distress state. It sounded familiar. Something you’ve heard long ago. But you couldn’t quite recall it now.

“Victor?..Victor!”

“Is he everything you hoped he would be?”

You guys jumped at the booming voice, turning around to glance down the hall. Hatch, along with two security guards behind him, were making their way over now.

“I just had a very interesting conversation with Professor Brantley! Perhaps we should discuss in my office while we wait for the police.”

The three of you were quickly rushed out of the holding cells. Pushing impatiently through the stairs until you were back in the listening room. Nancy raced after Hatch, trying to plead out to him.

“You’re not listening. Our friend is in danger!”

“Do you really expect me to believe anything you have to say at this point?”

“It’s the truth!”

“You are free to tell your sob story to the police.”

You clung close to Robin’s side since leaving the cell. Victor’s words still echoed in your mind as you guys weaved through the tables of people. Every now and then a guard would give your shoulder a shove and you’d have to step faster to keep close to the other two.

Once you guys were back outside, Robin gripped at your arm and pushed you close to Nancy as she leaned in to speak to you two better.

“Victor said the night of the attack, everything went on in the house, but he made specific mention of music.”

You nodded your head a little. “The night at Eddie’s trailer. The only reason I knew something was up was because of the lights outside. But there wasn’t any music..”

“Right, but that might have been the key difference!” she pointed out. “He said music was playing. And then, when we asked him about the angel, he started to hum.”

She hummed the tune a bit before singing out the lyrics. “Say nighty-night and kiss me. Hold me tight..”

“Dream a Little Dream of Me!” Nancy caught on.

“Yeah, Ella Fitzgerald.”

“The voice of an angel!” you and Nancy gasped.

“Hatch said that music can reach parts of the brain that words can’t. So maybe that’s the key, a lifeline.”

“A lifeline back to reality.” Nancy added.

“Something to ground them.” you muttered, mostly to yourself. But would that have really worked at the stage when you and Eddie were calling out to Chrissy? It wasn’t just a trance she was in, she was being lifted off the Earth. You were so lost in thought, you almost missed catching your friends checking over their shoulders.

“You’re gonna have to lose those.” Nancy muttered towards your feet as she stole one more glance.

“Lose them?” you asked confused, looking from your feet to the guards behind you three.

“I think we can beat him.” Nancy whispered. This time it was Robin’s turn to be confused.

“What?”

“To the car.”

Robin’s face paled a bit at the idea.

“Okay. I’m warning you right now, I have terrible coordination. Like it took me six months longer to walk than all the other babies.”

“Yeah, I’m not really any better.” you sighed, feeling the rush already start to climb up your body. “Last time I tried running off I got caught.”

“She’s right.” Robin nodded. “Those Russian guards caught her in seconds.”

Nancy gave you two both exasperated looks before she sternly turned towards the way she wanted you three to go. “Just follow my lead.”

“No, my God!” Robin panicked.

In a split second the three of you sprinted off in the lawn. Shoes flying off feet as you ran through the grounds, past the orderly and patients that covered the large lawn. The guards continued to call out for the three of you to stop but you guys pushed through.

Behind you Robin was panicking, and you were trying to control the dry heave that wanted to come out of your throat as you attempted to follow Nancy. You could hear one of the patients call out as you all zoomed past him.

“Cinderella, you dropped your shoe!”

You were definitely gonna have to buy Karen Wheeler a nice pair of pumps after this.

Somehow you guys managed to make it to the front of the Asylum. The air burned your lungs and you let out a tired cry at the sight of the station wagon. All of you quickly climbed inside, shutting the doors in record timing. Nancy’s hands were barely on the wheel before the guards began to pound at the windows.

“GOGOGOGOGO!” Robin babbled, panicked at the sight of the men.

The tires screeched loudly as Nancy shot out of the parking spot. It’s a mess of emotions as you let out a small thankful whine while Robin continued to panic.

“Holy shit! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

“You really are a weird runner!” Nancy said to Robin, earning an annoyed look from the girl. Dustin’s voice perked up from the radio, cutting into the quick celebration.

“Robin, where the hell are you? This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!”

“Max!” you gasped, allowing Robin’s steady hand to take the radio from you.

“Dustin, it’s Robin. We copy!”

“Holy shit, finally! Please, please tell me you guys have this figured out!”

“It’s music! She needs to hear music as a lifeline. Use a song she’s connected with to bring her back!”

The line went painfully quiet.

“Oh God.” you gasped, feeling the tears spring to your eyes. Not Max. It couldn’t happen to her. Not the small girl who sparked such a fiery personality. The one who offered you nothing but a genuine friendship back home. The only person who understood what it was like dealing with the real Billy. She was your friend, she was like family at this point. And despite the current rifts that hit your current relationship, you still deeply cared for her.

If she was going through what Chrissy and Fred did—you weren’t ready for that reality.

“Please not her.”

Robin could only reach forward to grip at your hand while Nancy pressed harder on the gas. Jerking the car a bit as she sped back towards town. You quickly began to hyperventilate, wondering if you’ve just lost your dear friend when suddenly Dustin’s voice broke through again.

“We got her! Shit..She’s back, it worked!”

All three of you let out a sigh of relief together.

“Thank God.” you heard Robin whisper.

The beat of your heart is still erratic and you cover your face to take a second and catch your breath. It wasn’t over yet. You guys still had time.

“Time?” said a familiar deep voice beside you.

Slowly, you pulled your hands away from your face. Around you the world began to shift, turning into the dark middle of the night as it took you into a different reality. You were driving suddenly. Holding onto the large wheel of the car that seemed so familiar.

“No.” you whispered, shaking your head, this couldn’t be real. You were..you were just in the station wagon. Turning your head, you were shocked to find Billy sitting on the seat beside you. Mouth still oozing from the dark blood as he threw you a smirk.

“Don’t you know, babydoll?” he asked playfully. “Times up.”

You were so shocked, so stunned to see Billy outside of a dream, that you never really noticed the headlights that were coming your way…

“DUSTIN! STEVE! WE NEED HELP! – OH SHIT, SHE’S CURSED GUYS, HOLY SHIT! — GODDAMNIT, ONE OF YOU BASTARDS ANSWER ME. – WHAT’S THE SONG!? – STEVE! WHAT’S HER FAVORITE SONG!?”

A/N: Hey guys! This chapter was a bit lengthy, but I could not find it in myself to skip out on Victor’s story. The actor, gives off such great emotion and I’ve been a fan of his when he was back playing Freddy~ ANYWAY, I tried to include some scenes I hope you guys love. Please excuse any mistakes and let me know what you think! Would love some feedback~

TAGGING LIST: k @cluz1babe, @starofavolonea, @primroseluna, & @siriuslysmoking

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x henderson reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x henderson reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #cac #angst #fluff #stranger things fic

104 notes · View notes