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zer05trange · 3 months

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Roaring Sea

000. Prologue

⋆｡°✩ (childe x fem!reader)✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ premise: When Ajax stumbles across a humble bakery with his brother, he has no idea the new fight he'll have to win. Because though the Fatui Harbinger explored the waters of many nations and many different conflicts, he knew nothing about the dangerous sea of relationships.

⋆｡°✩wc: 2.1k

⋆｡°✩content warnings: none for the prologue!

The premature coolness of Snezhnayan autumn is nothing to Ajax and his brother. It’s comforting, in fact. It reminds him of an older, easier time when his soul wasn't tainted by the horrors of this world. Often, Ajax thinks of what it would be like to be normal, to have a normal social life.

If his work could possibly permit it, he would've loved to meet someone with whom he could share his heart. But thanks to his plummet into the abyss, and the years he's worked for the Fatui, he doesn't have a heart that could be given to someone.

The part of his heart that hasn’t faltered is for the love of his family. And that’s why on a more lax week of work, he finds himself walking down a city street with Teucer by his side, glancing at different shops and places that interest his little brother. Their destination was one shop that his brother kept talking about, one that he needed his big brother to try out.

“Big brother! We have to go,” Ajax remembers his brother exclaiming just a few hours earlier. The young boy continued to ramble about a bakery he often frequented, with a kind, yet strong-willed owner that would never fail to make time to converse with his little brother.

Almost the entire stroll to the destination, Teucer spoke of when the owner; the time she slipped Teucer extra pastries free of charge for his other siblings, showing him how to make his favorite items on the menu, or never letting him venture out into the cold without some sort of hot drink to keep him company.

“This one’s it!” He hears Teucer pipe up, stopping in front of the row of shops. It was two stories, fitting with the rest of the line of stores. It was cute, and shockingly modern looking on the outside. He can see the soft illumination on the inside, with a sufficient amount of booths and tables for its size. Teucer goes running into the shop, leaving Ajax to catch up to his little brother.

By the time he enters the shop, Teucer is already chatting away with someone behind the counter, peering up at the woman who’s smiling down at him.

“ if you give me a few minutes, your favorite is just about done baking, and it’ll be nice and hot for you, all right?” He hears her say.

Oh, her voice is much younger and brighter than he imagined it would be. He looks up at her, and she was not what he thought she’d look like as well. Young, sophisticated, and positively gorgeous . He straightens up his posture a bit before walking toward the counter.

“Good evening,” She says, “You look a little like someone I know.”

“Y/N, that’s my big brother! The one that got me that toy I showed you a few days ago!” Teucer responds, jumping up and down with his hands on the counter.

Y/N. Fitting, Ajax thinks.

“I have heard about you. The toy maker, yes?” You turn to him and he nods, “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Tartaglia,” He says in return, “You have a lovely bakery, and the food here looks delicious!”

You laugh, and Tartaglia feels his smile widen ever so slightly as his chest tightens up. He thinks he may be dying.

“Thank you, pick whatever you’d like, please,” You say back to him.

Though you were expecting Teucer to come into your bakery, since he hadn’t been in a few days, you were not expecting to see his striking, tall, and slightly intimidating brother.

This Tartaglia was an odd one. From what you’ve heard from him he seemed to be a caring, loving, and attentive brother. But you struggled to find a spark in his eyes, and that sent a chill down your spine.

He’s donning an oxblood colored long sleeve button up and white pants, and you don’t fail to miss the hydro vision on his waistband either. He has the same deep gingered hair, blue eyes, and freckles that his brother has. However, he’s very tall and muscular, with a sharp facial structure adorned with a pretty-boy face. You’d make a bet that he’s nothing but trouble.

His overall energy is intense, ominous, and foreboding. But he's friendly to you, at least, and his body language was a little more than friendly, but you shrug it off. It’s not every day that a handsome customer takes an interest in you.

The two brothers found their seats a few minutes ago, so you go back to preparing other baked goods and taking care of the few customers who are also in your store. However, you don’t fail to miss the glances Tartaglia keeps making at you.

He looked awfully familiar, and not just because he was the brother of your most loyal customer, but you couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he was so recognizable. You hear Teucer call your name and you perk your head up to see the little boy calling you over. No one was ordering, so you come from the confines of your counter and over to their booth. Walking over to their area, you see Tartaglia’s eyes go straight from your face, to your hip. You glance down for a moment, wondering what in Tevyat he could be looking at.

Ah, you think, as your own eyes find the soft glow of your vision. But you shrug that off, you already saw his vision that resides on his waist.

“Yes, Teucer?” You say as you look down at the younger boy.

“Did you put something new in your frosting?” He asks, with his eyebrow cocked up.

“I did, actually. I added more sugar as an experiment. Do you like it?” You respond, stunned at how he would’ve figured that out, especially because it was such a miniscule amount of sugar.

“I really do,” He says as he takes another forkful into his mouth.

“Ms. Y/N,” you hear the other brother, “Are those moon pies?” He points to your display case.

“They are. I try to have a little something from each of the nations, it’s a good source for variety,” You respond as you look back at your assortments of goods, most of which were taken by earlier customers.

“And you make all of those?” He asks. You nod your head, letting out a quaint ‘mhm’ with a proud look on your face.

“Well what I’ve had is delicious so far, I need to come back to you and try everything!” He exclaims, beaming up at you with a wide smile and a wink.

You chuckle awkwardly before a couple walks into your store, unknowingly becoming your saving grace. You rush behind the counter, feeling his eyes burning into your back as you walk away from him. As you serve the two customers their order, you notice how the two were looking at each other lovingly and how the man pulled out the chair just for the woman to sit down. The way the two treated each other pulled at your heartstrings, though a normal reaction when one witnessed romance, there was a tinge of jealousy behind the feeling as well.

Sure, you thought about entering the terrifying world of relationships, but you're way too focused on your blossoming business to have yet another stressor on you. But, more often than you’d like, you imagine what it would be like for someone to sweep you off of your feet, to spend time with, and battle the cold of the nation by being bundled up together. You always reason with your thoughts, because it is simply not the wisest thing to do, no matter how bitter the lovey-dovey couples make you.

You bring yourself back to the present, the couple already left, as have many other customers. It’s getting later in the evening, and you look over at the remaining two customers that reside in their booth. A small smile makes its way to your face when you see how engaged Tartaglia is in his brother’s rambling. It wasn’t often that you saw siblings this close, even in a nation where family is treasured.

The two look over at you as you finish cleaning up for the night, their mugs empty and their saucers clear, except for a few crumbs. You call them over to your display case, and they follow suit.

“Pick whatever you’d like,” You sternly demand of them, “They either go to me or my dog, so take however much you want. Maybe some for your other siblings?”

Teucer’s eyes brighten as he frantically starts studying the case, pointing out a multitude of sweets before you can even reach for the tongs. The entire time, Tartaglia switches his eyes from his brother to you, both in admiration.

You can feel his intimidating gaze and although he's never spoken to you until today, he's taken a liking to you. His energy toward you has been… interesting, to say the least, in the few hours you've known him. But surely it’s completely harmless, and you doubt that any of his weirdly flirty intentions were something he was going to take seriously.

So why not just let it happen?

“It’s getting dark, Teucer. let's get on our way so Ms. Y/N can get home,” Tartaglia says while his eyes stay focused on your face, a sly smile pulled on his lips.

“Oh it’s no big deal, my house isn’t too far away,” You point to above the shop, where you reside upstairs, “I’m much more worried about you two getting home before you freeze.”

Tartaglia laughs at that, causing you to look to the side awkwardly. Did you say something that hilarious? You brush it off and hand the two their large bag of assortments.

“Get home safe, you two,” you say as the two prepare to leave the bakery, “I can’t have my favorite customer and his older brother frozen to death!”

As they leave, Tartaglia turns around and waves to you with a wink, making you scoff and roll your eyes as you walk toward the door as well. You lock it behind you, and switch the OPEN sign to CLOSED. You watch the two walk off, Teucer still chattering on and on as they disappear down the city.

Walking over to their booth to clean it up, a velvety blue bag catches your eye. It must be a mora pouch, next to a napkin with wording on it.

You have to teach me how you make such an excellent apple cake! I’ll be back soon, Лапушка.

P.S. Thank you for treating Teucer the way you do.

—Tartaglia ;)

You scoff and roll your eyes, yet again, this time without him there to see your reaction. What is this guy’s deal? You open the pouch and almost drop it, shocked at what is inside. It has to be thousands of mora, too much to be considered a tip. If this is how he’s trying to harmlessly flirt with you, it’s not working too well. Instead, it freaks you out as to what to do with it. A customer shouldn’t be tipping that much, you think, so you plan on returning it whenever he comes next as he promised.

You eventually finish cleaning up and rush upstairs to your apartment, much like most nights. But tonight, your cheeks feel more heat in them than usual.

As Ajax walks his brother home, his mind fills with more emotion than he's felt in a long time. The fact that you could bring out a little crush within him stunned him. In all his travels, even his life before his corruption, he never felt anything romantic for anyone.

Why was he yearning to see more of you, though he just met you? Was it the way you took such care for his brother, your kind attitude, though you were slightly austere to his dumb advances? Was it the vision, the sigil that proves you’re a warrior? Or was it your beautiful eyes, your skin, your hair, your lips, your—

No. A Fatui Harbinger should not become weak in the knees for one person. One person he just met an hour ago? Absolutely not. His job called for his time, his body, and his everything. And he doesn’t have the time to become so attached to anyone.

Though maybe, a microscopic part of his mind was scared. Scared of having feelings for anyone.

Because though the Fatui Harbinger explored the waters of many nations and many different conflicts, he knew nothing about the roaring sea of relationships.

⋆｡°✩translation: Лапушка— sweetheart, darling

⋆｡°✩a/n: thank you so much for reading! this work is already fully--written so updates should be every few days or weekly!

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helplesslypurple77 · 6 months

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Day 16(free day)- Wtich!Reader/Landlord!Fukuzawa

Notes: man, i'm going through a daddy thing huh. Also fair warning, there's a little bit of tentacle nonsense in this fic, but the tentacles are mostly a plot device.

You loved your job. Witch blood had been in your family for generations, and as the only girl of your family you were basically destined to become one. But you could not have been happier. Truly, you loved everything about it, from selling potions and candies to the village folk to hunting for special ingredients deep in the woods to summoning mystical creatures and striking bargains with them. You loved every minute of your witch work, always had.

Your mother used to let you sit on her lap, braid your hair as she read potion ingredients to herself over your head. She used to let you add ingredients to the easier potions, your chubby toddler hands dumbing rosemary sticks into her bubbling cauldron, the same cauldron that now sat upon your fire. It has also been in your family for generations.

While in the old days, witch work was more dangerous, now it had become a breeze. The villagers are kind and welcoming, and although you could charge them more for the quality of potion you produced, you decided to charge lower. This village was prosperous, but they were still just villagers, who needed to eat and buy clothes. You had magic, and didn't need these things as often. And besides, your kind older landlord lets you stay for really cheap, provided you let his eight cats come and go as they pleased.

One of the cats, a white one striped like a tiger, is rubbing up against your leg now. You reach down, petting it a few times before it runs off, probably to join its fellow cats off somewhere. You smile as you watch him go. Really, you don't mind at all. Cats have always been a staple of your family. You have one of your own, a sleek black one named Fedya that refuses pets but secretly loves affection. For some reason he and one of your landlord Fukuzawa’s other cats(a brown one who had a strange affinity for bandages) always hiss at each other.

Fukuzawa, the landlord who lived above you, was a kind older gentleman of forty-five, unmarried and perhaps the quintessential old cat grandpa(?). You had thought he was terrifying when you first moved in, with his stern eyes and shocking gray hair, but as soon as you saw him surrounded by eight cats of different sizes, smiling like a fool, that scary aura had disappeared, never to return again. He was kind to, treating you much like a daughter and giving you rent at half price. You provided him with free potions whenever he needed, although he always tried to refuse.

Truth be told, you actually had a bit of a crush on him. He was handsome and kind and very tall and you had a weakness for older men with stable jobs. Always had. But you knew he didn't think of you that way. He had even mentioned multiple times that he thought of you like a daughter. Every time you heard him say those words, it broke your heart anew. But you gritted your teeth and hid your crush and went on with life, because that was all you could do.

“Hello? Anyone there?” a woman says. The voice comes from behind you, out in the main part of your small shop. Whipping your hands on your apron and checking your caldron(it's empty, thank god. You almost burnt the house down once.) you exit the small potion preparation station and close the door behind you. The main part of your shop is airy, clean and almost always smelling faintly of oranges and lily’s. You have a glass case full of the more flashy potions, and bunches of herbs hand from the ceilings, perfuming the air with their scents. It's still not enough to overwhelm the orange thought.

A young woman is standing anxiously at the entrance to the shop. She’s unfamiliar, with fluffy brown hair and skittish pale brown eyes, that dart from your face to her surroundings nervously. She’s an anxious, shy little thing and reminds you distinctly of a doe. You smile warmly at her, trying your best to reassure her.

“How can I help you miss?” You say. The woman twirls a strand of hair anxiously around one finger.

“Are you Miss Witch? I'm visiting and the villagers told me you're a witch by trade. Is that true?” She says. Her voice is soft, like ringing bells but it trembles. You nod reassuringly. “Yep, that's me. Do you need something in particular?” You say.

“Um, do you have anything for insomnia?” The woman says, coming closer as she relaxes. You can see the dark circles lining her eyes, evidence of sleepless nights. You nod, reaching behind yourself and bringing two bottles out to show her.

“Yep, I've got two. This one is a little stronger.” You hold up a green bottle, the golden label flashing in the midday sun. You continue, holding up another bottle, purple one with silver accents. “This one is a little weaker, but the overall effects are longer lasting. If I may ask, do you know the cause of your insomnia?”

The skittish girl jumps a little, coming closer and carefully examining the bottles closer. “I don't know Miss Witch, I just don't know.” The poor girl bursts into tears, bit fat droplets of water falling down her pink cheeks and splashing onto the wooden floor. You reach out, handing her a handkerchief.

“Oh dear, well if you sit down I might be able to find the cause for you.” You say, putting both bottles away and walking across the counter, gently gripping the crying girl's shoulders and leading her over to the purple velvet couch set in the corner. She collapses onto it, whipping her tears with your handkerchief.

She’s a frail thing, not enough meat on her bones and clearly sleep deprived, and you curse yourself for not noticing it sooner. The bell tinkles as one of Fukuzawa’s cats, the one you nicknamed The Bandaged Maniac, saunters in(you’ll never figure out how but he figured out how to open doors) and jumps on the girl's lap, licking up her remaining tears with his pink tongue. You’ve labeled him a ladies man, because he loves your female customers and could care less for your male ones. The girl laughs, and you swear The Bandaged Maniac smirks.

“It's been happening for three months now.” The girl, Mila, starts out, handing you your soaked handkerchief apologetically. “Whenever I try to sleep, the nightmares come. Horrible, twisting monsters, who chase me and chase me and I just—” She breaks off, shuddering.

“Anyway Miss Witch, I'm so sorry about all of this.” She says, petting The Bandaged Maniac on his head. He starts to purr, sounding way too satisfied with himself.

You smile, doing your best to be reassuring. “It's no problem Mila. and I think I know what your little problem is.”

⋆♱✮♱⋆

“Thank you Miss Witch, seriously.” Mila says, her pale hands gripping your own, her brown eyes, no longer ringed with shadows, bright with happiness. You smile. “It was no problem at all.” You say, seriously meaning it. You love your job, helping people gives you a rush you could never replace.

Mila waves one more time, and darts out the door with a huge smile carved across her pretty face. You sink back onto the countertop with a breath. The door opens with a tinkle and your Landlord steps inside with a smile. You grin back, gently placing the necklace Mila had basically forced upon you when you said no charge on your glass countertop. The Bandaged Maniac noses at it, licking your fingers. You pick him up, planting a little kiss on his pink nose and dodging his kisses back. He curls up in your arms, purring up a storm. Fedya slips in the door behind Fukuzawa, and The Bandaged Maniac pulls his head out from between your boobs to hiss. Fedya sticks his nose in the air.

Fukuzawa has a small package in his hands, and you watch, cooing on the inside as he pulls out some dried fish for Fedya. Fedya, like the little brat he is, turns up his little pink nose. You sigh.

“Fedya refuses to eat anything besides sashimi grade salmon, with a good fat marbling.” You say. He shakes his head with a small smile, stowing the box of dried fish in his inside pocket.

“I came to ask a favor if that's all right.” Fukuzawa says. His voice is as attractive as ever. You shove down any inappropriate thoughts and shoot him a small smile. He barely ever asks favors of you, and you have to bully him into taking any free potions. Sometimes when you turn your back he slips payment onto the counter top and leaves before you can complain.

“Sure, anything you need. So what can I do for you?” You say, stroking Fedya as he leaps onto your shoulder, rubbing his black fur all over your neck. The Bandaged Maniac hisses as you put him down on the counter, and Fedya proudly leaps into your arms, as if he’s claiming you or something. You place him down as well. He glares balefully at you like you’ve somehow personally offended him, and proudly claims his seat, licking your necklace.

Fukuzawa comes father into the store, petting the cat on his shoulder, a fat one named potato chip who leaps down, gripping onto your (thankfully covered) shoulder with sharp claws and sits purring on your shoulder. You sigh, pulling him off your shoulder and holding him in your arms. For some reason all of Fukuzawa’s cats are weirdly attached to you. You don't mind, you love cats.

“Ranpo really loves you.” Fukuzawa chuckles, gesturing to the cat purring up a storm in your arms. You giggle. “I nicknamed him Potato Chip because he wont stop stealing my snacks.” You whisper, leaning forward as if you're telling a secret. Fukuzawa chuckles as you continue. “Anyway, you said you needed a favor?”

You make your way back behind your shop, and Fukuzawa follows you. Fedya and The Bandaged Maniac follow you two, and Sushi(the black and white one) darts out from behind a chair, trotting up to The Bandaged Maniac and hopping unceremoniously onto his back. Sushi is a smaller cat, who at some point must have had some tiger blood mixed into his house cat genes. He was sweet and affectionate and a bit skittish, a rescue Fukuzawa had told you. Actually most of his cats were rescue’s. The Bandaged Maniac lets Sushi hang on, slowing down slightly so he doesnt fall off.

You put down Potato Chip, who almost pouts at you unceremoniously, and move to your caldron, starting the fire with a wave of your hand. Fukuzawa sits down on your couch beside Potato Chip, and starts feeding him dried fish.

“I was wondering if you could make a sleeping potion for me?” Fukuzawa says from behind you. You nod. “Yeah that's easy. Did you need a special one?”

Fedya is crawling up your back, digging his claws into your skirt and leaping back up onto your shoulder. You sigh, chopping rumroot into identical pieces as Fukuzawa continues. “Well some of my cats have been having a hard time sleeping lately, and i was wondering…” He trails off, voice sounding apologetic. You smile. “Yep, i can finish that up by tonight. You can just stop by around eight to pick it up. That sound good?” You say, turning from your cutting bored to look at the man on the couch.

He’s just sitting, but he looks all relaxed and domestic and it makes your heart clench in your chest. You wouldn't say you want kids, but Fukuzawa evokes ‘id have your babies’ feelings in you sometimes. Hurriedly, you turn away.

“That sounds wonderful.” Fukuzawa says, smiling. Fedya starts hissing from your shoulder. You sigh, reaching up to pet his soft fur reassuringly.

“Yes, I know, I'll feed you right now baby. Sorry Fukuzawa, could you grab the sliced salmon out of the fridge?”

⋆♱✮♱⋆

You really didn't know how you ended up in this situation. Well, actually you did, but it was all moving very fast. It was late, maybe 7:50 and you were on your hands and knees, drawing a summoning circle on the wooden floors of your work station. You need a few more ingredients, most notably the milk of a tentecalus, a strange monster from the ocean regions. The rest of Fukuzawa’s potion was bubbling on the stove, and you just need to finish it off with the fresh milk, and then it's done.

The summoning circle glows to life, and the strange smooth tentacles of the Tentecalus start sprouting through your floor. You’ve summoned this monster a few times before, but the strange blue glow the tentacles gave off was still a little concerning. You sighed, and moved closer to the beast.

The Tentecalus was classified as a non sentient, meaning it was basically the same as an animal. So all you had to do was stroke one of the tentacles and get it to start secreting milk, which you would collect in a small cloth and squeeze into your potion. It's all going very well, and you're turning from the monster, and depositing Fukuzawa’s potion in a glass vial on the table when you feel a weird slimy thing wrapping around your bare leg. It's night, near bedtime and you're wearing a silk pajama sleep set, which leaves lots of bare skin exposed.

Something wraps around your ankle and with a shriek, you're lifted into the air. Tentacles are wrapping you from all sides, two hoist your hands above your head, one worms its way around your torso, and yet another two grip your ankles, pulling your legs apart into a rather compromising position. You should feel scared, but then you notice the strange purple glow that has replaced the usual blue, and you realize you’ve forgotten one of the most basic rules of summoning Tentacalus’s. Don't summon them near october, their prime mating season.

And sure enough, a thin blue tentacle is winding underneath your sleep shirt, twisting one of your nipples lightly. You bite back a sound, and try in vain to struggle from its grasp. But to no avail, it's got you snug. You have to erase part of the summoning circle, sending the monster back where it came from, but you can't reach it from where you are, hoisted in the air. You sigh, and sit tight, waiting for Fukuzawa to arrive.

⋆♱✮♱⋆

Fukuzawa glances at the clock. 7:58. It's probably appropriate to go and visit you now. He gently lowers Sushi to the ground, closes the door behind him and makes his way down towards your unit. You’re such a sweet woman. It had been nearly four years since you first moved in, out of your depth and new to town. He was happy to offer a half price rent deal to you. It was really no issue to him, but you had looked so thrilled when he told you, all bright eyed smiles and friendly touches Fukuzawa hates how his heart clenched. You were much too young for him, pretty and fresh and vibrant and very popular with the village boys, although for some reason you never noticed.

You would never be interested in him as anything more than a friend, and Fukuzawa would have to convince himself the same. And so he tried his best to think of you like a daughter. You were a little old for that, but it helped him at least lie to himself that his feelings for you were fatherly compassion, and nothing more. He was a liar. And he was forced to come to terms with his less than pure feeling when he caught himself looking down your blouse. You were helping him hang Christmas decorations, holding the ladder as he climbed up it, and all he meant to do was look down as you handed him an ornament.

But when he looked down all that he could see was your boobs, and the edge of your pretty white lace bra and he just…sort of short circuited for a moment, and almost fell off the ladder. You berated him and insisted you go up instead and then for the next half hour he got an eyeful of your matching panties, visible underneath your skirt. He really hated himself a little that night, when he found himself with his hand around his dick, your name on his lips. He felt like a pervert when it happened, like a nasty old perverted man. So he stopped lying to himself that he saw you as a daughter, and just focused on hiding his feelings and being a good friend, and not getting any more tempting glimpses of your underwear.

He knocks lightly on your door, frowning as it opens with a creak. “Name?” Fukuzawa walls out, peaking around the door into your darkened shop.

‘Oh thank goddess, come quickly Fukuzawa.” Your voice sounds strange, breathy and slightly muffled and Fukuzawa hurried inside, closing the door behind him and making sure to lock it. A faint purple glow is coming from inside your back room, and he pushes the door open, all ready to charge in and play the hero, but comes to a screeching halt as he takes in the picture in front of him.

The first thing he sees is your face. Eyes heavy lidded and full of relief as they gaze upon him, lips spit slicked with saliva and the most dangerous expression carved across your face. You look just how you look in his fantasies, when he has you bouncing on his cock, or when he has his face buried in your pussy, your hands tangled in his hair, yanking it as you buck against his face—

The second thing he notices, and maybe the most alarming, is the strange sea creature’s tentacles wrapped around your thighs, more around your boobs, still more pulling up your tank top and giving Fukuzawa a full view out of his fantasies as they work your boobs. But perhaps the worst is the two tentacles holding your legs open, and Fukuzawa’s eyes catch on the wet spot forming against the crotch of your matching sleep shorts. He gulps.

“I'm sorry about this Fukuzawa.” You say, and Fukuzawa immediately moves his gaze from the more intimate areas of your body back to your face. He subtly moves, adjusting himself in his pants. Hearing you say his name like that is not helping his boner go away.

“I need you, ohh~” You interrupt yourself with a moan as the monster twists your nipple. Fukuzawa tells his fried brain that you don't need him, you need him to do something, obviously. His dick twitches anyway. You continue. “I need you to smudge the circle.” Your voice is breathy, desperate and devastating and Fukuzawa takes a hot minute to truly comprehend what you said.

He does see something on the floor, a glowing summoning circle. Hurriedly, he smudges the chalk with his foot. The effect is immediate, the tentacles disappear and you fall through the air. Fukuzawa reaches out to catch you before his brain can tell him no, bad idea and suddenly he had an armful of turned on panting girl. You look up at him, eyes still clouded with lust. Fukuzawa gulps. He feels somehow like he’s already lost, that all you have to do is ask him, and he’ll bend to your will. Anything, he would do anything. Hell, he would even kill a man for you, just to get a taste of you.

“Fukuzawa.” You say, eyes on him.

“Yes?” He replies, begging you dearly in his mind to let him have you. He would do anything.

“Kiss me.” You say, and like a puppet released from its strings, Fukuzawa does just that.

⋆♱✮♱⋆

Fukuzawa kisses like a man staved, he kisses like he has been wanting, wanting, wanting, and is finally allowed to devour, and you love every minute of it. You feel desired, and treasured, and teased beyond measure and almost a little confused. But he’s still holding you in his arms, and carrying you across the room to lay you gently on the bed. The familiar covers feel soft beneath your skin, and Fukuzawa follows you down, pressing kiss after desperate kiss onto your lips, his thigh finding its way between your legs. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, the kisses turning dirty and desperate and you anchor your hands in his silver hair, tugging slightly. He groans and responds.

“Name.” Fukuzawa tries to pull away from your mouth. You keep pressing kisses onto his lips, robbing the breath from his throat.

“Name, please.” He tries again. You answer, in between kisses. “Yes?”

“I want to ask if—” He gets cut off again as you press a kiss to his pulse point, and he responds by kissing you deeper into the comforters, his thigh working between your legs. You moan and finally he pulls away, using a hand to hold your wrists against the comforter. You hate how much it turns you on.

“I want to ask if this is just a one night stand for you.” He says, looking earnest and adorable, even as his big hand holds your wrists down. You squirm against his thigh, his stern expression thoroughly turning you on. He continues. “Because I really like you and would like this to be something more.” Your heart stutters at those words, the effect of them almost enough to pierce through the horny haze surrounding you. Almost. You do want to give him a true reply though.

“I would like it to be more too.” You say, the emotion is clear in your words. The effect is immediate, his gaze sofens, and his grip on your wrists loosens. You grind against his thigh again, his muscles tensing against your sensitive clit. He’s looking at you with such care, such clear emotion and love and yet you can also feel his dick, hard and throbbing against your leg. You grind down harder against his thigh, as he helpfully shoves it harder against you, releasing your hands as they fly up to his hair, dragging his mouth to your lips. He kisses you nonstop, rough, deep searching kisses that press you into the mattress. He recesses your hands, allowing them to tangle in his silver hair, yanking slightly on the strands. His hands are big, rough with sword calluses and deliciously warm as they smooth over your boobs, pulling your thin tank top over your head. He pulls away from your mouth, pressing kisses into your neck as he speaks.

“You're so pretty.” Fukuzawa says, kissing lower and lower as he slides down, his hands reluctantly leaving your breasts to grip the waist of your sleep shorts, pulling them off.

“Thanks.” You giggle, fingers lightly twisting your nipples, watching as his big hands grip your thighs, repositionsing you as he kneels down. “I always thought you were handsome, you know. Thought you saw me like a daughter.” You continue, head falling back as he licks your pussy, tongue dancing around your clit. He speaks in between licks, one thick finger prying you open.

“Tried to convince myself, lied to myself. Always thought you were pretty and sexy and…” He cuts himself off as you moan, back arching as he adds another finger, scissoring you open. His fingers are thick, much thicker than yours and they fill you nicely. You know his cock will fill you better.

“Want your cock.” You whimper, bucking into his hand widely. He pulls his mouth away from its dangerous motions on your clit, taking in your flustered appearance. You feel hot. Everything feels hot, and intimate, and you feel like you're going to go crazy if you don't have his cock inside you. Now.

You tell him as much in begs, he chuckles at your enthusiasm, watching as you pull yourself off his fingers with a moan, pushing him onto the bed and crawling on top of him. You grip his thick cock in both hands, lining the head up with your dripping pussy. You sink down slowly, thighs burning as you watch his face.

Fukuzawa bites his lip, eyes glued to where your pussy takes him in as you sink down, the slightest bit of sweat lining his temples. He has this dazed look on his face, like he can't believe this is happening, and you like it. No, you love it. The thought that he dreamed of this, that he desired this, made your pussy clench around him as you finally bottomed out, and you began to ride him. The naughty slaps of skin fill the air, your moans and Fukuzawa’s groans and the occasional whispered word. He lets you take control, at least until your thighs start burning and he lays you on your back, and then proceeds to fuck you nearly into oblivion.

His thrusts are deep, almost like he’s trying to turn you inside out and with each thrust he brushes against your g-spot. Your back arches with a cry, coming off the mattress, and your nails dig scratches into his back.

“Fukuzawa, I'm gonna cum.” You moan into his ear. He’s leaning above you, his big hands anchored by your head, leaving indentations in the bed. He puts his hips deep into you with each thrust, pushing you back into the soft surface of the bed. You cum with a cry, clenching around his legnth as he fucks you through it, whispering sweet little sentences into your ear.

Endnotes: sry the ending is rushed, i got super tired and my eyes started blurring over, so thats fun

#bungou stray dogs #mariannacrxss #kinktober 2023 #bsd smut #helplesslypurple77kinktober #kinktober #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #fukuzawa x reader #fukuzawa yukichi #bsd fukuzawa

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heizours · 2 years

Text

KISS IT BETTER

summary. the greatest lengths, that he is willing to do for you

tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur

cw. scara's leak voicelines regarding ei, implied torture in dottore's part, kaeya lore spoilers (?), just those and over all a pure fluff abt what are this genshin men willing to do for you <3

feat. childe, albedo, pantalone, ayato, kaeya, scaramouche, dottore, diluc, zhongli, kazuha, cyno

CHILDE ── he never stops talking about you in front of his family. everytime he comes home to them, he would start going on and on about how such an amazing and loving significant other you are, and his family didn't have the heart to interrupt him because every word and confession that leaves from his lips, are all genuine and pure from his heart. the only way you will find out about this, is when he brings you to meet them for the first time, and in an instant his parents and his siblings are all smitten by you.

ALBEDO ── he has a journal dedicated to you, consisting of the little things and habits about you, when is your birthday, what are your likes and dislikes, the date of your anniversary, the promises he had noted while being in a relationship with you, such memories that he managed to capture and so on. sometimes, it would come to a point where he's starting to not mind of reading every single page of the book, over and over again - if you ever catch him doing it, he will just swiftly reply "well, i just find this more interesting and eye catching. do you want to read it with me?."

PANTALONE ── he spends all his fortune on you, whenever the both of you are out on dates and something catches your eye for more than 0.1 second, that product is in your hands in an instant. you, at least tried to tell him to lessen down his habit of buying everything for you when he almost bought a whole island meant for you, but all he ever tells you is "what should i do with this mora then? darling, this fortune isn't worthy to me when i have someone as you."

AYATO ── he will boldly break and reject countless arrange marriages for you. sure, it is his obligation to get married, but to be paired with someone he couldn’t see as his significant other? he would rather dispose it, than let his marriage suffer just like how his childhood was. why would he look for more if he has someone as perfect as you? if they prefer to not listen to his pleas, then so be it. he would cross that line for you, even if it takes for some of the citizens to turn their backs on him - after all, it’s you and him against the world. yes? right.

KAEYA ── he will always choose you, over both mondstadt and khaenri'ah without a single hesitation. sometimes, he just couldn't handle the pressure in his shoulders, that there will come a time that he will have to choose between his homeland and the nation he had considered where he lived in - that is until he met you. suddenly, his whole perspective of life changes and his mind was now unexpectedly on set. he had decided - if he can run away, then he would, with you and would live in a far away land where only the two of you would live in it and grow old together.

SCARAMOUCHE ── he is willing to change himself for you, to the point that he would take the risk to reset himself. resetting himself, where he would be back to his old wandering self again after being told to roam around, as free as he wishes like how his creator and mother told him. if he is going to do that, then he doesn't mind one bit - if it means that he's going to be destined to meet you again, but this time under normal circumstances.

DOTTORE ── he orders his clones to always keep an eye on you. knowing that he is always hibernating in his lab doing who knows what, he can't always be by your side all the time. if ever danger comes to you, that is too close from his liking, he would not hesitate to order his clones to protect you from it, and bring the said danger to him in an instant, who even had the audacity to lay a single finger on you. maybe, they would be the perfect test subjects for this mind blowing experiment he had decided to work on?

DILUC ── he would ask your parents' consent first before courting you, and he is more than prepared to prove himself worthy of being titled as your lover. he would also proclaim that you also do not have to rush yourself in answering him, he is willing to wait even if it takes forever. because if he could? then he would.

ZHONGLI ── he can give you the 5 love languages. words of affirmation? you bet, he's going to put a whole power point presentation on why he loves you so much. physical touch? he can be not clingy at all times, but expect lingering and soft touches with him every now and then. receiving gifts? he keeps every single gift you are giving him, whether it's considered to be given on a special or an ordinary day. quality time? this man is fit to be a househusband, he's going to give you all the quality time that you need when you are in need of one. acts of service? he's a gentlemen, and you bet he won't let you lift a finger.

KAZUHA ── he will not raise his voice at you when the both of you, are in an argument. he would scold you, but in a calm, gentle and soft spoken manner - and the respect and love for you is still there. he would point what was your mistake in that certain situation, but would also make sure that every word that comes out from him, wouldn't struck a nerve in your side or would do anything to make you more upset than it is.

CYNO ── he will take some time to explain what does his jokes mean. for other people, he just complains about how they can't understand the jokes that comes out from him, but for you? he'll spend hours and hours just so you can get it. and if he makes you smile or laugh in the slightest because of it? it miraculously cures the tiredness that he had endured all day long.

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fortheloveofwonderland · 4 days

Text

Midnight | Chapter 20 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary - Spencer seeks to enact his ultimate revenge on his biggest demon. You run into a face from your past, but is it simple coincidence?

A/N - we’ve reached the part that Spencer’s story has been leading to. Tread lightly with the next few chapters as they get pretty dark.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - child molester, past sexual abuse of a child, Spencer faces his trauma, past drug use, swearing, making out, cheating, fingering.

WC - 5.5k

Chapter 20 - Unopened Windows

The residential suburb of Summerlin was barely fourteen miles off of The Strip but given the time of night it took Spencer almost forty minutes to drive to. But it would be more than worth it for this kill.

It was one he’d been thinking about for some time, but one he’d never thought would come to fruition. It was his most dangerous target by far, it broke a lot of Spencer’s own rules he’d put into place when he’d started this vigilante mission.

But this would be his swan song, his grand finale. It was easily the stupidest idea he’d ever had, and if he were to ever get caught this would be why. But it would be so worth it to say he’d slayed this final monster.

This one had been over three decades in the making. The man in question, who’s house Spencer had parked the Impala a little way down from, was a serial child molester who had flown under the radar for nearly forty years. Spencer didn’t know exactly how many children had fallen prey to the seemingly innocuous looking man, but he knew his very first victim personally.

It was entirely plausible the wheels had been set in motion on Spencer’s ultimate demise long before prison, long before he’d even realised it. Maybe he’d been destined to become this person all along. He knew all the facts and figures on the subject, he’d just never thought too much on it in case it was a particular line of thinking he never came back from.

But there was a definitive link to abusees becoming abusers. On average fifty percent of serial killers suggested they had been psychologically abused as children, while thirty six percent said they experienced physical abuse. And twenty six percent reported suffering sexual abuse during childhood.

It was a definitive correlation but it didn’t take into consideration the amount of abuse victims who didn’t go on to commit violent crimes or the serial killers who weren’t abused as children. But it certainly bore some kind of relevance. A victim takes back the power they lost by becoming the oppressor.

Spencer ran his finger over the blunt side of the blade, eyes never leaving that one house. There was a light coming from one of the downstairs windows so he knew his target was home, that’s not why he was waiting.

Why he was waiting, he wasn’t sure. The sooner he got this over with the better, one less evil in the world. He never imagined this would be so difficult.

He’d gone two months without killing and he’d hoped he was done. He’d thought maybe the strength of your love had pulled him out of the darkness for good this time.

But then two days ago he’d awoken from a nightmare, the likes of which he hadn’t had in more years than he could count. It was less a dream than a memory, a memory from when he was just eight years old. The worst moment of his life, worse than his drug addiction, worse than watching Maeve die; even worse than prison.

He hadn't exactly repressed it, it was more a case of he’d locked it inside a box at the back of his conscious mind and never dared open it. Maybe if he had repressed it he wouldn’t have ended up here.

It had been what the BAU called his trigger. It was the trigger that set into motion a lifetime of events that had led him to this moment. And the nightmare had only unlocked that box and set the monster free and now it was out, there was no containing it. This man had to die so Spencer could live.

As he stared at the house he simultaneously had both Cat and Mary’s voices in his head.

I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time. And I gave her very specific instructions to get you in the mood.

Fine, I’ll tell everyone I know that you sexually assaulted me.

Stop being the boy who cried rape, Spencie. It’s not a good look.

So if you don’t give me what I want, I will disgrace the former FBI agent Spencer Reid and tell everyone that you raped me.

And then through the fog appeared another voice, this time his own.

Do you have any idea how many people are actually assaulted every day? How many don’t report it because they’re scared they won’t be believed? And you want to use their real pain for your own sick gain?

Maybe it was the events with Mary that night that had led him to have that nightmare again after so many years and brought it all back to the foreground of his mind. That horrible nightmare in which he was trapped inside that house with no escape from the one man he was supposed to be able to trust.

Time was said to heal all wounds but Spencer’s were still just as open as the day as they’d been made, never giving them a chance to scar and mend.

He suddenly slammed his hand against the steering wheel, subsequently silencing the thoughts that fought for dominance in his fractured brain. It didn’t matter how he’d ended up here, it didn’t matter what had been his undoing. This was his beginning and tonight he was making it his end.

Spencer had tracked down your demon, now it was finally time to take care of his own. Most children were told about the boogeyman hiding under their bed but the monsters under his bed were never as terrifying as the one who crawled into it.

At eight years old Spencer Reid had learnt the hard way that he couldn't trust anybody, not even his own family. His future had been written in the stars from the very first time his father had crept into his room and beneath his sheets.

He slammed the wheel again, closing his eyes tightly against the onslaught of tears that had built up and one last resounding voice cut above all the others.

It’s ok, daddy will make it all better. Big boys don’t cry, Spencer.

When he opened his eyes again, he allowed one single tear to fall before he roughly rubbed his eyes free of anymore. Picking up the blade, he pulled at all his bravado and opened the car door.

It was finally time. William Reid had to die.

Big boys don’t cry dad, but we do grow up to be psychopaths.

***

After a long soak in the tub and throwing up once more, you put on a little summer dress before texting Spencer on the burner phone that you were heading to the spa and to let you know when he was back. He’d see it once he picked up the phone from Bennington.

You took the elevator down to the first floor and the hustle and bustle coming out of the casino assaulted your ears. You stepped out, heading in the direction the signs told you the spa was, trying to put distance between yourself and the sounds of coins in slots.

As you headed further away from one noise, another caught your attention but this one was much more welcoming. The dulcet tones of someone playing piano wafted your way and instantly relaxed any tensions you had in your body.

You instinctively followed the sound, now ignoring signs for the spa in lieu of finding where the tickling of keys was coming from. It led you into a grand room with a large mahogany bar taking up one wall and plush, velvet armchairs scattered around glass tables. The piano was in one corner, a man in a full suit and tails sitting behind it.

You glanced around and continued forward. Now you thought about it, you did have a kind of metallic taste in your mouth, a glass of something would go down a treat. You let the music wash over you as you made your way to the bar, taking in all a multitude of liquor bottles on shelves but the thought of any of them made your stomach turn violently.

What the hell is going on? Why don’t I want to drink? I swear those goddamn hotdogs…

A man with a very fake smile and even faker tan behind the bar greeted you and you reluctantly ordered a soda. You paid the man and picked up your glass before turning on your heels but as you did so, you crashed straight into a hard, broad body.

Your drink splashed all over both your dress and his shirt and you narrowly avoided dropping the glass. You grumbled under your breath, staring down at your soiled clothing.

“Sorry, I wasn’t…” you glanced up and met the dark eyes and bearded face and your hand around the glass slipped again and you quickly put it on the bar to avoid breaking it.

He stared at you but you couldn’t work out what he was thinking, his expression completely unreadable. Your heart drummed against your rib cage as the music continued to play around you.

“I…what are you doing here?” You swallowed thickly.

He didn’t even seem to notice his wet shirt, not taking his eyes off of you and you were sure he didn’t look as surprised to see you as you were him. He folded his thick, tattooed arms over his chest and exhaled heavily.

“Hi Y/N.” Jesse finally spoke. “Fancy seeing you here.”

***

With the SIG and his hunting knife tucked into the back of his jeans, Spencer snuck down the side of the house and into the backyard through the broken gate.

It hadn’t been at all hard to find his father, not when the man was such a creature of habit. All those years ago when he’d come face to face with the man again during the course of a case, Spencer had made a mental note of the address in his dad's case file. He’d kept it inside of his head for all these years and it was finally of some use to him.

Since waking up from that nightmare two days ago he’d thought of nothing but coming here and ending his fathers life. Thankfully when he woke up screaming you’d already been up, in the backyard listening to music that had drowned out his cries.

Spencer had only ever told one person of the torture he’d lived through at his fathers hands. When Morgan had come clean about his own childhood abuse he’d considered talking to the older man about it but every time he tried he would clam up. Talking about it meant thinking about it and he couldn’t do that.

The only time he’d ever opened up about it had been completely out of his control, whilst high on dilaudid he’d accidentally let slip his darkest secret.

“Spencer, Spence…just calm down. Please?” She tried to reach for him to stop his frantic pacing but he shook her off.

“Can’t. Can’t stop. If I stop they win.” He turned away from her, ducking behind the desk in his living room and rifling through papers.

“Who? Who will win?” She followed him, frowning at her friend.

“The monsters.” He replied simply.

“Spencer…”

“They’re everywhere, we can’t stop them all. We can stop some of them but we can’t stop them all. We’ll never stop them all.” He kept moving papers about but she had no idea what he was looking for.

“Spencer, what are you talking about? Are you…are you high?” Her tone caused him to stop his rampant shuffling and look up at her across the desk.

“Y-yes.” He nodded. “The drugs make the monsters not seem so scary.”

She cautiously rounded the desk and placed her hand on his shoulder. She gently guided him away from the desk and over to the couch where they both sat down.

“Spence, Hankel is dead. He can’t hurt you anymore.” She kept her hand on his shoulder.

“This isn’t about him.” He spat, furiously grinding his teeth. “Fuck it all came back to me. Carl Buford unlocked that box and while I was in Hankel’s cabin all those memories came flooding out.”

He rubbed his eyes heavily with his palms, his left leg bouncing up and down.

“Carl Buford?” She frowned again. “What does he have to do with this?”

“He hurt Morgan. He hurt Morgan in the worst kind of way. The kind of way that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Never look at yourself the same. Is it my fault? Did I do something to encourage it? My fault, gotta be my fault.” He hit his forehead with his hands a few times, devolving into incoherent muttering.

She took hold of his wrists and guided his hands away from his face. He looked at her in a doe eyed fashion, looking so small and innocent.

“Spencer,” she inhaled a shaky breath. “Did someone hurt you in that way? Like Carl Buford did to Morgan?”

His bottom lip quivered and she saw the tears that quickly sprung behind his eyes.

“Yes.” He nodded stiffly, pulling his hands free of her hold. “My father.”

The first time he’d cried and begged his dad to stop but all the times that followed he laid there and waited for it to be over.

The abuse continued for two years. For two years every time Spencer crawled into his bed at night and he would stare at the door and wonder if his very own boogeyman would surface that night.

When he was ten and his parents divorced, it was the best day of his life, finding out his father was moving out. He hadn’t realised at the time he’d probably started growing too old for his dad anyway, sexual predators were very specific in their type. It also didn’t occur to him then that he wouldn’t be the only one.

He was still fairly certain his father assaulted Riley Jenkins. But how many others had there been? How many other kids were terrified of William Reid sneaking into their room at night? Certainly none of the others were the man’s own flesh and blood.

He crept around to the back of the house, his hands trembling at his sides. He understood now how you could get so emotional when you’d confronted Green. It was different when you knew them. He wasn’t going to be able to distance himself from this like he had the others. This wasn’t some stranger, this was the man who had ruined Spencer’s life. And Spencer was going to look him in the eyes and return the favour as he cut his fathers throat.

There was something oddly poetic about it. His dad had played a role in giving him life and now Spencer was the one who got to take his fathers away. It was almost a full circle.

He quietly traversed the back steps up to the screen door. As expected it was open, much like most of the monsters he tracked down. They thought the evil living in that house was far worse than any that lurked outside. His father was about to be proven wrong.

He inched open the screen door and stepped inside the dark kitchen. The light was coming from the living room and he could hear the TV was on. As he silently padded across the linoleum floor, he withdrew the SIG and pointed it forward in his shaking hand.

His entire life had been culminating up until this moment. Everything he’d done had led him here. This was the ultimate kill, and once he did this maybe he would finally be able to find peace.

Killing his father would be Spencer’s crowning glory. And if he got caught because of it, at least he would always be able to say he’d taken out his biggest demon.

***

“Hi Y/N. Fancy seeing you here.”

“You don’t seem all that surprised to see me.” You felt a pit forming in your stomach. “Did you follow me here?”

Jesse pulled a face before he started chuckling, unfolding his arms and letting them fall to his sides.

“What? Why would I follow you? I’m not a stalker, I swear.” He held his hands up.

“It seems very coincidental that you’d be here. And you didn’t seem surprised that I was here.” You took a step backward.

“Trust me when I say I am just as shocked as you are. I’m partly wondering if you even are here or if I'm just going crazy.” He continued to laugh.

“Why are you here?” You took another step back.

“I’ve got a buddy from college who moved out here a while back. He’s been trying to get me to come visit for a while and after everything that happened with you it seemed like a good time to get away.” He shrugged.

Your heartbeat started to return to normal, looking in his eyes you saw no threat. Sure it was a huge coincidence but coincidences happened, right? You were being paranoid.

“Jesus,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry for being suspicious.”

“It’s ok, I would be too.” He shrugged. “You on your own?”

“Yeah.” You rolled your lip between your teeth.

“Can we talk? Somewhere more private?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets almost nervously.

That didn’t seem like a good idea, you didn’t trust yourself to be alone with him. But nonetheless you started nodding.

“I’ve got a room upstairs. We can go there.” You turned and motioned for him to follow you.

This was a horrible idea and once alone in the elevator you already wanted him to put his hands all over you. You kept your eyes on the floor and neither of you spoke as it makes it slow ascent.

Finally on your floor you led him to your room and slotted the key card in before the door clicked open. You led him inside and he took in the suite with a similar wide eyed awe as you had.

“Jesus, this one room is bigger than my entire apartment.” Jesse shook his head.

“Yeah, uh, Spencer’s doing, not mine.” You shrugged awkwardly. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Mary‘s missing.” He cut right to the chase. “She disappeared the same day you and Spencer did.”

You felt that pit opening up in your stomach again and you fought to keep your expression neutral.

“Seriously?” You didn’t trust your voice to say anymore than that.

“Yeah. And I think you know something about it. It seems too coincidental, don’t you think?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, walking further into the living room of the suite.

“About as coincidental as you being in Vegas at the same time as me, in the same hotel.” You mirrored his expression.

“I told you, I’m visiting a college buddy. Thought I’d treat myself to a night in a decent hotel.” He shrugged.

“What’s his name? Your college buddy?”

“Liam.”

You couldn’t tell if he was bluffing or not and you hated that.

“And he lives in Vegas?”

“Henderson.” He was quick to counter. “Stop changing the subject, Y/N. I think you know what happened to Mary.”

“I have no idea. Maybe she ran away? She didn’t strike me as being all that responsible.” You shrugged.

“I don’t think so. She had no money, she worked a ton of jobs so she could get out of Butte but she couldn’t afford it.” He stepped closer.

“Maybe she started charging for her services.” You rolled your eyes. “Being a whore could have been her big payday.”

“I guess.” He chuckled darkly. “But I don’t think so.”

“You seem to know her pretty well. And clearly she likes older men. There’s a story there.” You tried to change the subject again,

“You think I would sleep with Mary?” He scoffed. “I prefer a woman my own age. And you know all about my complicated history.”

“There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

“How am I suddenly the one on trial?” He heaved a sigh. “Fine, if you must know, my ex, the one who managed the Tin Cup, the one who fled town…she was Mary’s aunt. So I guess I knew her pretty well or whatever. Got invited to some family dinners in the year we dated. Now I’ve been honest with you, it’s your turn. What happened to Mary?”

“I have no idea.” You stepped back when he stepped forward again.

“I think you’re lying.”

“And I think you don’t know me well enough to know when I’m lying.” Again you stepped back as he stepped closer.

“Her aunt, Laura, called me after Mary’s mom got in touch with her when she disappeared. Her mom thought maybe she’d run off to visit Laura. So she called me, for the first time in two years I had to talk to her. She was the first woman I got close to after my wife killed herself and she broke my heart. And Mary’s disappearance meant she called me and I had to deal with all that again. So if you did something to her, the least you can do is be honest with me.” He was trying to intimidate you and maybe if you hadn’t dealt with Spencer’s aggressive side for so long it might have worked.

“I did nothing to her.” You squared your shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to talk to your ex but I have no idea where Mary is.”

“And I still don’t believe you.” This time when he stepped closer you didn’t move, you weren’t backing down.

“Then that’s on you.”

“Tell me what happened to her, Y/N.” Another step and he was dangerously close to you, you could smell his woodsy aftershave.

“I don’t know.” You tried to ignore it.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me.” He repeated, raising one of his strong, intricately decorated arms and his large fingers wrapped around your bicep. “Spencer did something to her right? And you’re covering for him. Do you know how foolish that makes you? You think he cares about you? You think he wouldn’t throw you under the bus giving half the chance?”

“You don’t know him.” You shook your head, his grip on you getting tighter.

“I’ve known plenty of men like him. What did he do to her? Did he kill her?”

“No.” You swallowed, his aftershave assaulting your senses and making your legs tremble. “He didn’t do anything to her.”

“You can tell me, Y/N. Tell me what Spencer did to Mary.”

“He didn’t do anything to her!” You suddenly raised your voice. “I killed her ok? Is that what you want to hear? She was threatening Spencer. She found out who we were and was blackmailing him for ten grand. She said if he didn’t give her the money she would tell the whole town he raped her! I couldn’t let her do that so I killed her and we buried her body somewhere it will never be found.”

Jesse’s face paled and his hand fell from your arm and he stumbled backwards a little. Your heart started racing as you realised the words that had just left your lips. He glared at you like you were a stranger.

“You…she…why would she say that? She’s a bitch sure but surely she wouldn’t…” he trailed off, his voice distant.

“I heard it with my own ears.” You croaked. “And I just saw red. My sister was raped and murdered when I was seventeen years old and it tore me and my family apart from the inside. I couldn’t bare to hear her spread a fucking lie like that and so I shot her in the back of the head. She never saw it coming.”

Jesse ran his tongue along his bottom lip, his breathing growing heavy.

“Jesus Christ.” He grimaced, taking in your words. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Are you disgusted by me?” You pouted.

He exhaled shakily, his brows furrowing as he tried to process an answer.

“No.” He shook his head, looking confused by his own voice. “Which says more about me than it does you. I’m not disgusted. I should be, but I’m not. If she would have told everyone that it would have ruined Spencer’s life. What kind of person does that?”

“An evil one.” You swallowed.

“Exactly.” He nodded his head in agreement. “So no, I’m not disgusted. But even weirder than that I’m actually incredibly turned on.”

Suddenly he moved closer to you again, quickly closing the space between you but you held your hands up to stop him.

“I’m married.” Your voice cracked.

“No, you’re not.” He tried to move closer once more but again you stopped him.

“No, I really am this time. As of a few weeks ago.” You held up your left hand, showing him the new ring.

“Fuck.” He groaned, running his hand over his beard. “I came out here to get over you! Jesus, I barely knew you any time at all, and I didn’t even really know you but I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve been on my own for so long now and I’ve gotten so good at it. But since the first night I met you in the Nickel I never wanted to be alone again. You’re everything I always wanted and more but of course you’re married and I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“No, Jesse, you’re not an idiot.” You found yourself moving closer to him, bringing your hand up to cup his jaw.

“Of course I am.” He scoffed. “Only an idiot would fall in love with a woman he doesn’t even know.”

Your heart grew to double the size hearing those words from his mouth and you couldn’t stop yourself when you suddenly crushed your lips together.

Jesse instantly kissed you back, cupping your face in both of his hands and parting your lips with his tongue.

“Say it again.” You mumbled into his mouth.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He repeated, grinding his hips against you.

Out of nowhere tears sprung to your eyes and when you opened them and pulled back from the kiss they unexpectedly started to fall. Jesse’s face fell.

“Why are you crying?” He started brushing your tears away with his thumbs.

“Because when you say it I actually believe it.” You snivelled. “I don’t think I’ve ever really been convinced when he’s said it to me. But I believe you, I believe that you really do love me.”

“I do.” He nodded. “I shouldn’t. I know nothing about you apart from the fact you killed a person. And that should make me hate you, I should turn you into the cops. But that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“What do you want to do?” You dared ask him.

“Oh I think you’ve got a pretty good idea.” With that he kissed you again, one hand moving from your face to your lower back which he used to guide you towards the couch.

He kept kissing you while he lowered you back to it and crawled on top of you. His erection pressed into your leg and his hand was quickly wandering under your dress and ghosting along your panties. He hissed into your mouth when he felt how wet you were.

“I love you, Y/N.” He spoke against your lips as his fingers brushed your underwear aside. “I love you so fucking much.”

You moaned into his mouth when two fingers suddenly entered you and your eyes rolled back in your head as you succumbed to Jesse entirely.

It was a glimpse into the life you’d never have, one night to see what you and Jesse could have been but never would. After tonight he would leave again and you’d have to let him. He was simply just a window that had to remain closed.

***

William Reid sat in the old battered armchair watching Family Feud whilst sipping from a mug of tea. The armchair faced away from the kitchen door and enabled Spencer to sneak right up into the doorway.

His fathers thinning head of hair rested against the back of the chair as he hummed along to the theme tune. Spencer had the SIG pointed at the back of his head as he took a few steps forward into the carpeted living room.

He edged right up behind the chair, the muzzle of the gun just a few inches from the back of his fathers head. He could end this now before William even saw it coming. All he had to do was pull the trigger and it would all be over.

But he wanted to look him in the eyes, the same way his father always made him do.

Open your eyes, son. Look at me, don’t be scared. Daddy’s going to take care of you. I said look at me!

The rage bubbling within Spencer was like nothing he’d ever felt before. This man was responsible for destroying his childhood and the childhood of so many other young boys. The cycle had to end.

William Reid suddenly tensed in his seat, slowly setting his mug down on the little table next to the chair. Spencer could hear his breathing grow heavier and when he glanced up at the TV he realised why.

Spencer could see his own silhouette in the small, ancient device and clearly his father had seen it too. William swallowed thickly, his shaking arms raising gradually until they were over his head in surrender.

“Please don’t hurt me.” His voice trembled as he spoke. “Take whatever you want, b-but I don’t have much.”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Spencer replied harshly, and he saw his father straighten in recognition. “You have nothing I could possibly want.”

“I should have known this day would come.” William sighed and lowered his arms again.

Spencer kept the gun focused on his fathers head as he cautiously rounded the chair until he was standing in front of the older man.

William Reid looked haggard, older than his years. His eyes that had haunted Spencer’s dreams for as long as he could remember had lost their menacing spark. His face was hollow, gaunt even. And he didn’t even look phased by the firearm trained on him. He sighed as though the whole thing was an inconvenience to him.

His lip suddenly turned up at the corner in a wicked smile that Spencer remembered so well. It caused his stomach to flip and he momentarily felt like that terrified little eight year old begging his dad not to touch him again.

“You’re all grown up.” William smiled at him, threading his fingers together in his lap. “I missed you, son.”

Spencer coiled his finger around the trigger, his heart beating loudly in his ears. His father was his one unopened window into his tormented past and today was the day he finally put all those horrid memories to bed and opened that window and at long last be able to breathe fresh air for the first time in over thirty years.

It was time to break out of the walls of that house his father had confined him to in his memory and set himself free.

My favorite movies,

Are tales never filmed.

That I dream of living out,

A private screening,

That plays in the field.

But I'm trapped inside this house.

Walk through the halls, trace the walls,

Back to where we made our memories.

See what will never be.

Through unopened windows, bound to my heart,

Fantasy so close, feels so afar.

But I long to break the lock and live among the life we lost,

Through unopened windows, they tear me apart.

I'm sick of hearing,

That time always heals.

Try to tell that to my scars,

Sure, it stopped the bleeding,

And it's harder to feel.

But it really left a mark.

I walk through the halls, trace the walls,

Back to where we made our memories.

See what will never be.

Through unopened windows, bound to my heart,

Fantasy so close, feels so afar.

But I long to break the lock and live among the life we lost,

Through unopened windows, they tear me apart.

All the stories left unwritten,

That we drew up in the past.

It's the game we never went to,

Or the drinks we never had.

As I look up to the stars,

And make a wish to bring you back.

But I curse the roof above me,

And I learn to live behind all these.

Unopened windows, bound to my heart,

Fantasy so close, feels so afar.

But I long to break the lock and live among the life we lost,

Through unopened windows, they tear me apart.

They tear me apart,

They tear me apart.

See what will never be,

Through unopened windows, they tear me apart.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom @nomajdetective @rebelliousstories

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

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stillfrownyclownlol · 5 months

Text

Oh nooooo somebody stole my Aidlyn/Ashden headcanons so now I have to write more ... ✨️

(SORRY IM SPAMMING THE TAG 😭😭😭)

Some of these are based on my dad because he has bpd and he really reminds me of Aiden.

-His sense of humor is so broken like. Probably makes "that's what she said" and "your mom" jokes. Ash thinks he is the unfunniest person alive 🤡 and she STILL laughs at him (but never when he's trying to be funny). I think he'd be on Vine a lot lmao. He would laugh at that video of the bread slice falling over no cap.

-Aiden Clark, Professional Doomscroller. Maybe an itty bitty bit addicted to social media cuz "omg easy dopamine hit" even if he doesn't post a lot. Would prolly be chronically on TikTok if he was a teen today 🤡 Ash WILL steal his phone and hide it so they can "do something productive" (which alternates between her trying to teach him basic life skills to him falling out of a tree because they went outside for five minutes)

-her parents also gave him a truly awful shovel talk. He came out of it, kneeled in front of her, and said if he broke her heart to kill him before her parents did 💖 Tyler and him bond about their "scary in laws", although he has a better relationship with Mike and Emma than Tyler does with Mary and James 🤡

-convinced her to go to prom because "free food" and managed to wrangle out a slow-dance from her. He already likes dancing, SHE likes dancing...he wants to dance together ^_^

-She really likes his normal smile, when he's not forcing it. He takes good care of his teeth, so he's got a real bright smile :)

-Aiden tried to teach her how to skateboard a few times. She can...stand on it without falling off and roll around, but no tricks lol. Ash still thinks it was just an excuse for him to grab her hands or waist while she was balancing.

-Some problems in the relationship: they are not very good at communicating how they feel, so there's a lot of misunderstandings between them unless the gang intervenes haha ":D Sometimes Ash feels very suffocated by him and she really dislikes his apathy towards himself, and Aiden sometimes feels like Ash doesn't care about him nearly as much as he cares about her.

-his depressive episodes alternate between "I'm just gonna lie here and hope I die" to "actively trying to self destruct", sometimes he might go on a binge (overdosing on his meds, and when he's older he might sometimes drink too much or go on really dangerous joy rides, he's an awful driver), they really freak Ash out :( Recovery is a very long road with no end destination. She's trying to get better at reassuring him and he's trying to...just get better.

-both of them suck at remembering their anniversary 🤡 Aiden is a littleeeee bit better

-They have a knife collection they share ❤️

-he has her as "love of my life 💖✨️😍" on his phone contacts and has a special ringtone for her and everything. Absolutely not embarrassed about it, Ash...definitely is 💀 (she has him as "Aiden")

-sends her really bad poetry he wrote for her because writing his feelings down by himself is easier than saying it in the moment. Ash keeps all of them in a shoebox in her closet.

-she's not really good with touching and stuff but she feels better touching him, like a good stim. Really likes holding his face (no eye contact). Also enjoys him holding her hand.

-Secretly a little insecure about how she looks. She has never really thought about it before because she never cared about it, but now, in a relationship, she's kinda self conscious about him perceiving (read: constantly staring) her. She's very short and thin (even with muscles from ballet and training) and feels like a "late bloomer." Aiden thinks she's the closest thing to physical perfection that exists and will tell her this constantly ^_^

-She actually likes how he smells (grâce à: his really expensive soap lmao) but she would die before telling him lol

-The first time she kissed him her brain kinda shut off and she just squished their faces together while puffing her cheeks up. He bust out laughing and completely murdered the mood 💀 They'll figure it out...eventually

#heres a game: guess which ones are my dad lol #sbg #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg (webtoon)#school bus graveyard #aiden clark #aidlyn #ashlyn banner #aiden x ashlyn #headcanon #tw self destruction

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takaraphoenix · 2 months

Note

soulmate prompt #2! countdown-pernico??

first of all, SORRY for the long wait! I hope you like it ;)

Every person was born with a counter on their wrist, counting down the hours, minutes and seconds until they would be meeting their soulmates. Nico di Angelo was sure that his timer was broken though. His nonna did the math for him and his timer still had over seventy years to go. That just could not be right at all. Nico would be so old by the time he met his soulmate! And he himself had done the math on that one, learning he would only meet his soulmate in 2006. That was the next century, that was so, so, so far away! That was a nightmare, it was unfair.

/break\

Percy had never really questioned his timer. He would be twelve years old when he met his soulmate. That was exciting, that was like super early! Most people had to wait until they were adults to meet their soulmates. So Percy spent all his life looking forward to 2006, because it was going to be his year. The year he was going to meet his soulmate and be happy forever.

2006 was not his year. At all. His mom revealed that she’d lied to him all his life, and then proceeded to get nearly killed by the Minotaur and did get abducted by Hades, and Percy found himself stranded at a summer camp for demigods, because apparently he was a demigod.

Percy barely even had time to think about his soulmate, but when he did, he considered that, oh, yeah, this made sense. The year he learned he was a demigod, a whole new world was opened to him, a world he would be part of from now on. Of course that would be the year he met his soulmate, because his soulmate was probably also part of this world. And there were so many campers, so when his timer was still going by the time him, Annabeth and Grover left for the quest, he was sure there were just campers he hadn’t met yet, he would meet when returning to camp.

And then they were stranded in the Lotus Hotel, the whole visit kind of a blur once they left. The only thing that truly stood out was the fact that Percy’s counter had run out. While he had been in the Lotus Hotel, he must have met his soulmate. Percy wanted to return as soon as he realized, but he also had to save his mom and they had a pressing deadline and his soulmate would be safe and okay in the hotel until then, right?

/break\

So many more things happened after that. It felt like everything was happening at once. The visit to Hades, the fight against Ares, returning the helmet and the Master Bolt, the reveal that Luke had been the traitor, and Luke nearly killing Percy. Honestly, a lot.

He wanted to return to the Lotus Hotel afterward, but everyone told him not to. It was dangerous, there was always the danger of getting lost. The trio had been lucky to find their way out as fast as they had. And everybody kept telling him that soulmates were destined to meet, that if they met once, his soulmate would find their way back to him. But how was Percy supposed to know? If the counter didn’t count anymore, how was he supposed to know when he actually met his soulmate again? This was stressing him out. He knew they were right that going back, he would also not know which one was his soulmate, but still. This was so frustrating.

For the most part, the ongoing war distracted Percy from fretting about the soulmate he had met and forgotten. Between going to the sea of monsters, going to retrieve the di Angelos and ending up losing Bianca and having to free Annabeth and Artemis from a kidnapping, getting lost in Daedalus’ labyrinth and stranded on Ogygia, all the way up to the battle of Manhattan.

It was like Percy barely got a moment to breath between quests and battles. And if he wasn’t busy with those, he also had school and his mortal life to deal with. Plus, looking for Nico di Angelo, because he had run away in anger after Bianca had died and Percy felt so guilty. Despite blaming Percy, Nico still came to try and save Percy in the labyrinth, which was just confusing. Either way, Percy wanted to make it up to Nico, wanted to bring the son of Hades to the safety of camp.

Even when the war ended, Percy didn’t manage either. Not bringing Nico back to camp – even though Nico had gone and found the Achilles Curse, which ultimately saved Percy’s life during the war, even though Nico had rallied Hades into joining the Olympians during the final battle, despite all of that, Nico still refused to come to camp. And Percy also failed to find his soulmate. Damn it. But hey, at least he saved the world. That was something, right?

/break\

Percy Jackson was frustrating. He was so pretty and so impressive. He had also promised to keep Bianca save and then Bianca had died. And even though Nico wanted to hate him for it, he just… couldn’t. Despite not even really knowing Percy, there was a part of Nico so attached to Percy already that he could not hate the son of Poseidon. In fact, he kept risking his life for Percy. Why. Why was he doing that. Why was Percy making him act like that, so irrational.

All of this, the loss of Bianca, of his sister and only family, the reveal that monsters and gods were real, the chaos and isolation and fear and anger, it was so overwhelming and very distracting from the one thing he had always looked forward, all his life.

Because him and Bianca had been freed from the Lotus Hotel in 2007. Which meant he had met his soulmate a year before they got out. Who was it? Were they still in the hotel? Or had they left by now too? This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Him and Bianca, they should have gotten to go looking for Nico’s soulmate together. Instead, he was all alone now. No Bianca, no mamma, no soulmate, nobody. Just Nico and his anger and frustration and the boy he was chasing for no reason.

Until he found Hazel. He had a sister, a half-sister, and he could help her. He put all his focus onto Hazel, onto getting her out of the underworld, bringing her to the Romans – because she was a Roman demigod, Romans were separate from Greeks, they had their own whole city and all of a sudden, Nico had a whole new world to explore. He kept going there, as the ambassador of Pluto, and though the Romans detested Pluto, in a weird way, Nico felt at home in the Roman city. More so than the American summer camp where kids were supposed to live. What even was that.

This could have been good. He could have made a home there, with Hazel. Get a new start. Move on with his life. And then Percy Jackson disappeared and Nico’s life came to a halt again.

Why was he so hung-up on this stupidly pretty boy. There were other pretty demigods! And besides, Percy was probably soulmates with Annabeth anyway. What was the point pining for him, just because Nico had no idea who his soulmate was? This was getting embarrassing, really.

So of course did Nico spend near every waking hour trying to find Percy. He got his first lead when Jason Grace disappeared from New Rome. These two had to be connected. Nico was right on the money, as proven by Percy just… appearing at Camp Jupiter. Without his memories.

The two got introduced to each other. Percy, the new camper, and Nico, the ambassador of Pluto. Only that Percy was looking at him with recognition and wide-eyes. Why? How?

“You…” Percy’s voice was a soft, awed whisper. “You’re my soulmate.”

/flashback\

Percy was in the Lotus Hotel and he’d gotten separated from Annabeth and Grover. He got distracted by a cool looking game, which was the whole concept of this hotel, he guessed.

“Hey. You wanna play with me? My sister ditched m-”

Someone had spoken to him and then stopped mid-sentence. Percy turned toward the other person, who had a hand resting on Percy’s shoulder to get his attention. When he was facing the other boy, with dark eyes and messy curls, Percy noticed him staring stunned at his own wrist. Following his line of sight, Percy saw that the other boy was staring at his own counter, on zero.

“It’s you,” the other boy whispered before rambling in a foreign language at too fast a speed.

Percy’s own eyes dropped to his own counter and. It was on zero too. He hadn’t even. How had he not been obsessively staring at it, if it was this close to zero? But then time worked differently in here, they had been here for days even though it felt like hours at most.

“You’re my soulmate. We’re soulmates. I can’t believe-” the other – Percy’s soulmate – interrupted himself. “I’m Nico! I’m Nico di Angelo. What’s your name? What do you like?”

“I… I’m Percy Jackson,” Percy blinked in awe at his very excitable soulmate. “Hi.”

Lame. So lame. He cringed at himself, but his soulmate didn’t seem to care. He just threw his arms around Percy, pulling him into a tight hug. Oh. This was nice.

/flashback|end\

Percy’s mind had been wiped by Hera, all memories gone. This blank slate allowed other forgotten memories to be triggered again and as he looked at Nico di Angelo, he was overwhelmed by a memory he didn’t even know he had. Of meeting Nico in the Lotus Hotel. Nico had run off to find his sister and introduce her to Percy, but then the hotel’s magic had made them forget and distracted them and then Percy had left the hotel again with Grover and Annabeth.

“In the casino. You wanted to play a game with me. And then you noticed your timer had run out.”

Nico looked as overwhelmed as Percy felt. Of course did he know he must have met his soulmate at the casino and technically, he knew Percy had been to the casino – the Lightning Thief quest was famous at this point. Percy Jackson was his soulmate. The boy he couldn’t hate, the boy he couldn’t help love, the boy he kept risking his life for over and over again.

“Of course you are,” Nico whispered before he started laughing, relieved and hysterical at the same time. “Of course you are. This is the only thing that has ever made sense.”

The next moment, Percy found himself swept into a hug just like he had the first time they met. This was the happiest Percy had ever seen Nico. And he hoped he’d get to see it many more times. He felt overcome with happiness too, because he had finally found his soulmate.

~*~ The End ~*~

#Nicercy #Percico #Fanfiction #Fluff #Soulmates #Soulmate AU #PJOverse #Phoe's Tumblr Drabbles

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metalmusingmoments · 10 months

Note

heyy, can't sleep either so... scenario where optimus takes the reader to a drive-in theater

thank you! 🫶🏽

Tfp verse?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rarely are you and Optimus given the opportunity to have a moment to yourselves. Early on you both realized planning outings never panned out. Relics, Decepticons, government, Ratchet, paperwork… usually in that order. An infinite cycle of obstacles in between you and just some blessed silence for you two to share.

But a miracle had happened one Tuesday evening. It took you a minute to realize it but the base was silent for once. No kids. No Fowler. No one bickering. Sliding your eyes to the right you took in the empty space. No Ratchet.

With the last shackle free you sprung to your feet startling Optimus.

“We need to go now.” You declared grabbing your jacket and bag and making your way down the ladder at an alarming pace.

“What is it? Is something wrong” Optimus was now on his feet scanning the base screens for danger.

“What? No” you laughed. “Sorry…I just realized everyone is out and we very much are not. So let’s change that”. You patted his leg and smiled up at him, but you saw the hesitation on his face.

“Or we could have a cozy night in” you backtracked; dropping your bag from your shoulder. “Up to you Chief”

“No” he replied slowly. Shifting back and giving himself room to transform he popped open the driver side door. “Let’s roll out”.

A large grin broke out across your face as you hopped into the cab and the seatbelt slid into place.

“You’re such a cheeseball”

“I still don’t understand what that means. What is our destination or is there not one?” He inquired.

The million dollar question. Where can you take a semi truck and make it not stand out?

“There’s a drive-in movie theater on the outskirts of town… not sure what’s playing but it’s worth a shot.”

You should have known nothing with substance would be playing at a drive-in on Tuesday night in Jasper, Nevada.

Sharknado was tonight’s pick and you couldn’t help but cringe at this being most likely Optimus first and last time indulging in Earths entertainment willingly.

“Fair warning” you said setting up the little speaker on the dashboard. “This movie is a bit… uh… out there”.

A deep rumble shook the cabin in response.

“I would have to assume so with a name like sharknado… this would seem to be up Miko and Bulkheads ally… as you say”

“Yeah. You’re probably right” you flopped back with a defeated sigh as the movie started. Sharks taking flight and all.

“Y/N… the choice of movie does not matter to me. I am happy that you suggested going out tonight. Rarely do you and I get to spend time to ourselves” the seatbelt tightened briefly as if to reassure you. “I truly am grateful for these moments”.

You let out a thoughtful humming noise before resting your hand on the emblem of his steering wheel speaking quietly “Me too Optimus.”

-1hr and 45mins later-

“Still has to be one of the best-worst movies out there” you muttered. As cars began to pull away and head off into the night.

When the parking lot was almost cleared Optimus still had not spoken.

“Optimus?” You called out and then tried again tapping his steering wheel. No answer. This mech was out cold.

You couldn’t help but smile, you hadn’t even realized he had checked out. You pondered what would be the appropriate way to wake him up. Smashing the horn was probably the equivalent to pots and pans.

Pursing your lips your eyes trailed down to the gear shift and then looked away quickly. Face heating up.

You settled for running your hand gently across the roof of the cabin. “Hey. Movies’ over we gotta ‘roll out’ before we get kicked out. Optimus?” you half whispered.

Lights flicked on and cabin came to life with a shudder.

“I’m here” he replied groggily tightening the belt across your body.

“Time to go” you repeated back to him taking your hand off the roof. The lack of touch seemed to bring him out of whatever drowsy state he was in.

“Apologies… I didn’t mean to-“

“Optimus.” You stopped him “ Anytime spent with you is time I’d never give up. Im grateful for these moments too remember?”

A thoughtful pause before his deep voice filled the cabin “As am I Y/N”.

A/N: any of y’all got that friend that when you turn on a movie ( NO MATTER WHAT IT IS) they’re out like a light. That’s Optimus. It’s cannon. He’s also a not a morning person.

A/NN: I also don’t hate ratchet but I imagine he’s the biggest c*ckblock at the base when it isn’t world ending doom lmao

#transformers #tfp #optimus prime #optimus #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader

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queen-of-deans-booty · 7 months

Text

Destined For Greatness

Pairing: Destiel x Daughter!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: minor angst, michael posessing dean, destiel fluff at the end

Request by anon: Hey can i request a imagine about being a Tribrid (Half angel, half demon, half witch) who Team Free Will takes under their wing and being like a daughter to Dean and Castiel (they can be married) and defend them when Michael, Lucifer, or Raphael attacks them?

Summary: Michael took your dad away from you and it's up to you and Jack to ger him back in one piece.

Square Filled: michael!dean (2023) for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

You, your dad, Sam, and Jack are gathered around the war room trying to come up with a plan of attack on Michael. You’re nervous to say the least because you’ve never faced someone as powerful as Michael, but he has someone you love dearly. He trapped Dean inside his own mind while taking over his body and doing God only knows what with it. Taking down humanity is one thing but going after someone you love is a whole different ballpark.

“I still think we need a plan B,” Castiel sighs.

“Plan A is going to work. I’ve been practicing all month,” you state.

“Dean can get hurt.”

“Dad, I promise no harm is going to come to Dad. Do you really think I’d put him in danger?”

Castiel stares into your bright teal eyes, a mixture of Dean’s forest green and Castiel’s electric blue. He reaches out and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“No.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, I trust you.” Castiel turns to the other two men and sighs. “What’s the plan?”

“We know where he’s hiding, right? Y/N will use her magic to make sure he’s alone. She will pretend to be the scared daughter who just wants her dad back.” Sam turns to you with determination. He’s hellbent on getting his brother back one way or another, and that’s through you. “As soon as his guard is down, you’ll pull Michael from Dean. Once he’s out, Cas and I will get Dean to safety, and that’s when Jack comes in. His power combined with yours should be enough to take him down. He’ll only be a white light since he won’t have enough time to find another vessel.”

“Are you sure she’s gonna be safe?” Castiel asks.

“Dad, I can do this. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think I could handle it.”

It’s true. You’re the first of your species, a demon/angel/witch tribrid. You’re always discovering new abilities, always showing a new side to yourself, and you’re doing it all alone. Since you’re the first and only of your species, you have no one to turn to if you have any questions. This journey of self-discovery has been done through trial and error, and there have been a lot of errors.

Not this time. This time, you will not fail. Your dad’s life depends on it.

You gather what you need and head out with the three men to the warehouse you know Michael is in. He’s been capturing monsters to make them hybrids of his own creation, but none of them have survived his experiements. He wants to create an army that will rule over humanity, but it’s time you put an end to it.

You walk into the warehouse alone and into the back room where Michael is. His back is turned to you when you enter but you know he knows you’re here because he stiffens up. He wipes the blood from a large blade and you see someone lying dead on the ground by his feet. You change your demeanor to that of a scared child rather than someone who is all powerful.

“I’m assuming you didn’t come alone,” he says and turns to face you.

“They don’t know I’m here. They wouldn’t have let me come otherwise.” Michael nods once in agreement. “I just want to speak to my dad, please.”

“Sorry, kid, no can do.”

“You have to understand where I’m coming from. He’s my dad. You took him away from me without letting me say goodbye,” you cry.

“I’m only going to tell you this once because I’m feeling a little generous. Your daddy is gone. He’s not coming back. Now, I’ve kept him alive for this long but I can easly kill him and keep the body. If you don’t want that to happen, I suggest you leave.”

This scared act isn’t going to work. You have to do something else or you’re going to put your dad in more harm than not.

“Fine, I’ll leave. Just please tell him I love him.”

“Sure,” Michael rolls his eyes.

You turn to leave but Michael’s eyes don’t leave you. He’s not going to relax until he knows you’re gone. Instead of doing that, you gather every bit of strength inside of you to take down Michael. You turn to Michael with magic in your eyes and at your fingertips.

“I changed my mind. I’m not leaving here without my dad.”

You blast him back with your magic but it doesn’t really effect Michael in the way he thinks. Instead of dissipating, your magic gets sucked back into you like a vaccum. With it is Michael’s true form. He tries to fight it but the combined powers of demon, angel, and witch is enough to pull Michael completely from your dad. Dean falls to the ground, completely weak physically and mentally.

“No, stop!” Dean cries out but doesn’t have the strength to stop his daughter.

Sam and Castiel enter the back room from the side and rush over to Dean to get him to safety. Castiel can try and fight Michael, but you and Jack are more powerful than he can ever dream of being. This has to be done by the both of you. Michael’s true form spikes angrily as it tries to find another vessel to use, but you keep him suspended into the air with your powers. Jack walks in behind you and blasts Michael with his own power, rendering Michael useless.

Michael tries to fight back against both your powers but is having a hard time doing so. He becomes so frustrated and angry that he sends a sharp screech right at you. You release your hold on him and cover your ears as you scream out in pain. Even covering your ears isn’t enough to escape the shrill of his voice.

With you out of the way, Michael blasts you and Jack back into the wall behind you, and he quickly makes his escape to find another vessel for the time being. He’s going to be back once he’s more prepared to fight you and Jack. Dean, Sam, and Cas come back into the room and run over to you and Jack with concern written across their faces. Sam checks Jack over while both your dads comfort you.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asks worriedly.

“Yeah, I just have a headache. Whatever he did messed with my mind,” you whimper in pain. “I’m okay, though. It worked. I got Dad back.”

“This was completely reckless. You shouldn’t have gone in there like that,” Dean scowls.

“Hey, we can pick this up when we get back home. Right now, we need to get the hell out of here,” Sam says.

“He’s right. We need to go,” Castiel says.

Dean scoops you into his arms and carries you back out to the car. The ride home was spent relaxing and gaining your strength back. Michael is very powerful and if you have any shot at beating him, you’re going to need to hone your powers and become stronger mentally. Still, by the time you got home, you’re almost asleep from how tired it made you. Dean takes you to your room to tuck you in despite you being almost eighteen.

“Stay with me?” you mumble when he goes to leave.

“Sure,” he chuckles. The hard talk can come tomorrow once you’ve fully rested. The only thing that matters now is that you’re safe and back in his arms. He won’t ever let anything happen to you, not after your mom died on his watch. Dean watches your eyes flit back and forth under the lid and he wonders what you could be dreaming about. Someone knocks on the door once and Dean looks up to see his husband at the doorway. “There’s room for one more.”

Castiel walks in and gets into bed, careful not to wake you.

“I was really scared,” Castiel confesses.

“I wasn’t,” Dean whispers back. “I knew I was gonna be okay because I have you and Y/N to watch over me.”

Castiel knows how hard it is for Dean to talk about his feelings, so this is a big step. It’s only because Sam isn’t in the room, and you’re asleep so you won’t hear it either. Castiel meets Dean halfway and kisses him slowly but lovingly. It’s moments like this that makes what they do worth it. Dean pulls away from his husband and looks down at his daughter once more.

“She’s going to be very powerful one day.”

“She got it from her mother.” Your mom had been possessed by a demon and an angel while being a powerful witch which is why you’re a tribrid. “She’s destined for greatness, and we’re both going to be here to witness it.”

Castiel and Dean decide to stay in bed with you to comfort you until the morning.

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cuti3pi5 · 7 months

Text

Once upon a dream

Pairings- Hyunjin x FM reader

Summary- Prince Hyunjin the eldest son of the royal family was destined to rule the kingdom. Prince Hyunjin had undergone rigorous training to soon take over the throne. His skills with a blade were unmatched. He was more than fit to rule his father's kingdom. Yet he was assigned a final task to prove his worthiness for the throne. His father had given him the task of entering the dangerous enchanted forest. He must slay the powerful wicked fairy and retrieve her wings only then will he earn his throne and be crowned king. But what happens once Hyunjin meets this fairy and realizes she might not be as evil as the rumors are.

Genre- Fluff

Word count- 2.0k

AN-Hello!! Sorry, I took so long on the post, was very busy and also wanted to make sure the writing was good enough. Its definitely not perfect but I've been wanting to give writing a try so feel free to point out any mistakes or opinions to help me improve!!

------------------------------ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ---------------------------

Y/N sat under a blossom tree seeking shade from the sun. Its falling petals scattered the ground

she hums softly as she flips through an old book. She inhales the rich scent of the pages. Its aroma reminded her of the forest and a crunchy pile of leaves around her. Her soft fingers gently glide across the pages taking in each word she reads. Her luminescent wings fluttered behind her as she read. , her wings shimmering like precious jewels in the sunlight.

She soon became intrigued by the book and the story in it losing all attention to the forest around her. Her head was in the clouds as she flipped through each page becoming more immersed in her romance story. Nothing could seem to break her concentration not even the soft birds chirping or the sound of crickets. But she soon was returned to reality as she heard heavy footsteps coming closer behind her.

“Do not move”, the voice demanded. Startled she drops her book. She turned around to find a man holding a gleaming sword. “Who are you?” Y/N askes the armord man infront of her. She examines the man before her. He has mesmerizing dark brown eyes. A small mole beneath one of them only added more to his beauty. His soft pink plump lips almost even seemed inviting. Long silky black hair that falls like a cascade, its tips grazing his shoulders, half of it being held up in a small ponytail by a delicate white ribbon. Frot pieces of his hair frame his face making his appearance seem softer. This unknown man possessed a breathtaking ethereal beauty that captivated the beholder's senses and transported them to a realm of otherworldly grace.

“Who are you’, She asked one more as she examined the man who stood before her. “I am Prince Hyunjin. What may be your name?” Hyunjin asked. “You're a prince?” the fairy gushed with excitement not even answering his question. She fluttered her delicate wings as she flew towards the boy. Her translucent wings seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. “I’ve never met a real-life prince before!”. The prince was taken aback by the fairy's words. He was used to having his family, people, and knights praise him like he was a god but not a fae.

Her features seemed so soft and innocent. Her cheeks and lips were red as rose and her wings looked delicate as if it were a flower petle. He imagined that they’d feel like silk if he were to run his hands across them. Was this really the evil monster he was met to kill? The sweet that stared at him with such joy and fascination truly evil? She’s probably trying to trick him, make him bring his guard down, Hyunjin thought.

He was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. He stared up at the girl who flew above him, her wings making a soft buzzing noise as they fluttered. She gently cupped his cheeks and looked at him with a puzzled expression. Before Hyunjin could say anything about the girl’s hand placement she spoke up. “Are you sure you're a prince?” she said confused. She flew back to the tree retrieving the book she had been reading. Quickly she flipped through the pages until she found the one she was looking for. Y/n held the book next to the prince. Her lips pursed as she looked at Hyunjin and then at that book.

“What is it?” Hyunjin asked annoyed by the fairy’s antics. “You don’t look like the prince in my book,” Y/N said. In the old tattered book was a drawing of a prince. He wore a baby blue suit with a golden crown adorned with colorful jewels.

“Where is your blue suit and your crown? I thought all princes wore crowns?” She asked him. Hyunjin took the book from her and began to browse through it before his eyes landed on the picture of the handsome prince depicted in the book. “I have been traveling through this damned forest all day so please forgive me if I don’t compare to that perfect prince in your book!”. His temper was starting to get the best of him. He felt as if the fairy was trying to mess with him… but she was right. He was not like the prince in her book. This prince looked clean and pristine compared to Hyunjin who was in armor that had become dirtied from walking through the enchanted forest all day.

An idea then popped into Hyunjin’s head. The fairy seemed to be playing innocent so hell play along pretending to trust her and catch her once she was vulnerable. She really did seem sweet and kind but Hyunjin was determined to return to his kingdom with her wings and prove to his father that he was worthy of becoming king. He quickly washed away his doubt and began his plan.

Quickly changing his annoyed expression he put on the nicest face he could trying to appear sweet and inviting to Y/N. “I'm sorry for my outburst” Hyunjin apologized. “ I have lost my way in this enchanted forest. I fear the dangers of the night.” He lied hoping that the fairy would believe him.

As Y/N thought about the prince's issue, she hesitated before speaking.. "It is far too dangerous to travel through the enchanted forest at night," she cautioned. "Rest here, and when the day breaks, you may continue your journey."

She couldn't help but be enthralled by the prince only ever hearing about them from the books she would often read.

It was then that Hyunjin made up his mind to go ahead with his plan. In the midst of her sleep, he would take her wings.

--------------- ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧-------------

As nightfall drew closer Y/N led the prince to her hidden sanctuary deep within the heart of the enchanted forest. Her sanctuary was a place of serene beauty, filled with lush vegetation, vibrant flowers, and crystal-clear streams. The trees in this part of the forest are ancient and towering, casting a dappled canopy of shade that creates an otherworldly atmosphere.

Hyunjin had set up a small fireplace close to her bed of delicate flowers in which she slept on every night. “You’ll be safe here,” Y/N said. The fairy’s kindness seemed genuine, and Hyunjin's conscience weighed heavily upon him as the night descended. But he didn't want to disappoint his father or his kingdom. He tried to push his doubts but struggled.

It was now late at night and Hyunjin had discarded his armor for comfort They sat by a crackling fire. With every passing moment, he felt more and more drawn to the beautiful creature. She was so gentle and graceful. He admired the way she cared for the nature around her. Her eyes lit up whenever Hyunjin asked about the forest or the books she read. He told himself that this was all part of his plan and that he was just trying to gain her trust but deep down he knew he was lying to himself. Truth was he was so fascinated by her and wanted to know everything about her. They sat by a crackling fire, and Seraphina shared tales of her solitary existence and the harmony she had maintained in the forest.

With a glint of starlight in her eyes, Y/N approached Hyunjin, her wings glistening in the soft glow of the forest. "I have read about princes who danced with grace and courage,," she admitted, her voice carrying the wonder of a thousand stories. "Would you honor me with a dance, Prince Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin, taken aback by the fairy queen's request, could not resist the sincerity and innocence in her eyes. "I would be delighted," he replied, extending his hand to her.

As they began to dance, the forest seemed to hold its breath, enchanted by the rare spectacle unfolding in its midst. She moved with a grace that surpassed the wildest imaginations found in the books she had read. Hyunjin, in turn, was captivated not only by her ethereal beauty but by the genuine joy and awe in her expression.

The moon cast a silver radiance upon them as they twirled and spun in the glade. Fireflies joined the dance, creating a luminous spectacle that painted the forest with a magical glow. The soft rustle of leaves accompanied the rhythm of their dance, creating a symphony.

As they danced, Seraphina's heart beat faster than the wings on her back.The connection between them went beyond the steps of the dance; it was a meeting of two souls drawn together by destiny.

But their magical night had come to an end. As they danced for what felt like hours Y/N had danced till her feet gave out. She fell onto her flower bed fast asleep. Hyunjin knew that his time had run out and it was time to carry on his task.

But when he found her there ,her wings folded gently against her back as she laid in the delicate bed of roses, he felt as if his heart was about to burst. Hyunjin rose silently. His heart pounded with guilt and uncertainty as he drew his sword with trembling hands. The moonlight danced on the blade, casting an ominous gleam.

But as Hyunijn stood poised to take her wings, a voice within him, a glimmer of his true self, whispered that this was wrong. He had come to know the real Seraphina, the guardian of the forest, and he could not bring himself to harm her.

He looked at her as she slept. She seemed so beautiful and delicate in her sleep. She had made Hyunjin feel a foreign emotion. On he was able to make out. He had enjoyed her touch an preccces and was hypnotized by her beauty. He had a yearning to touch her, hold her in his arms and protect her.

No other woman had ever made the prince feel such an emotion. Not even the woman who would fall to his feet or the princess he’d meet at parties. No one had given him this feeling.

With a heavy heart he drew back his sword, dropping onto the ground making a loud thud as it hit forest ground. He couldn't bring himself to harm an innocent being, even if it meant fulfilling his royal duty.

Overwhelmed with guilt and remorse, Hyunjin returned to the fire, his face etched with the internal struggle he had just faced. He watched Y/N as she slept peacefully, knowing he could never betray her trust. His heart had been changed by her kindness, and he couldn't carry out his father's wicked plan all though this delicious would have heavy consequences.

With the dawn's light breaking through the trees, he decided to reveal the truth to Y/N. He would confess his initial intention and hope that she could find it within her heart to forgive him for the deception. Gabriel longed to forge a genuine connection with the fairy queen, for he had come to see her as a beacon of grace and kindness in the midst of the enchanted forest.

She looked at him with eyes as deep and mysterious as the forest itself, a mixture of curiosity and sadness. She remained silent and Hyunjin felt his heart sink. He knew he had to make amends. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, determined to earn her trust. He bowed his head and began to speak, his voice trembling with emotion. The fairy queen's face softened and she nodded, seemingly accepting his apology. She stepped forward and embraced him, her wings gently fluttering.

He knew it was too soon to reveal his feelings for her but he still wished to see her. Over days and nights, Hyunjin and Y/N continued to converse. They explored the forest together, discovering its wonders and mysteries. Soon the prince's cold heart was replaced by a deep love and admiration for Y/n.

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@starlostlaiba

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin #skz x reader #skz #skz imagines #hyunjin imagines #stray kids imagines #hwang hyujin imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader

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finniestoncrane · 1 year

Text

Without a Hitch

Dano!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 10k commission: eddie meets reader at her work and develops an intense interest in her. and he decides it might be nice to treat himself to a little voyeurism and maybe a bit more... 🐀💚 part 2 here commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: stalking, obsessive, noncon, voyeurism

For the longest time, everything in Eddie’s world was a blurred, amoral grey. Nothing mattered too much to him. It hadn’t mattered in a long time, in fact. Nothing ever sparked joy, and nothing really sparked fury. The cruelty he had experienced in the orphanage, the long-endured pain at the hands of peers, the mockery he experienced at work as he tried his hardest, and the days spent watching money that was earmarked to help the downtrodden like himself being funnelled into various criminal enterprises under the knowing noses of Gotham’s corrupt elite. It had wiped him out. It was all too much. He felt as though he were nothing. He didn’t think he mattered. Nothing did.

Occasionally, only sometimes, a notion would come over him. The idea that something could be done to fix the world, to give him back the sense of being alive, and the power to actually make a change, make a difference. But for much of his life it had never amounted to anything more than his scribbled diary entries filled with pain and violence, to be forever sentenced to fictional daydreams. Nothing more than his lustful gazes into the barred window of the army surplus store he passed on his walk to work and home again from the subway station. One day, he thought, maybe. But he didn’t ever think it was likely.

Which is why he supposed it had struck him like a brick to the side of the head when you approached him. Willingly, too. And with no cause, much to his surprise. Another human, one not bound by any social convention or contract to make small talk with him, had decided to waste their time with someone like him. And, eternally grateful, he had put on his best, most human smile, and used all of his practised lines that were standard in normal conversation. Through sheer luck alone, or maybe because you were simply made for him, he seemed to pass the test. The reward being your attention for even just a few seconds more. And he lingered around your workplace in an attempt to get more of it. He would pretend to be looking for your help finding files and films, pretending like he needed the support of the archivist, as if he needed help with anything. Three times now you had been dangerously close to uncovering what he was really doing with the information for the renewal fund and the newsreel footage of the Wayne’s and their beneficiaries. But luckily, he had always managed to use his awkward charm to lure you away from the truth.

Beyond that first interaction, he had never expected to see you again, let alone develop what he assumed was a friendship. You had asked for his number, he guessed out of politeness. But you had texted him. And called him. Regularly in fact. And always asking to meet up again if he was free. You seemed genuinely interested and while that terrified him, he was more than happy to expose himself to just a little bit of pain as the risk, if the reward was your genuine interest. It quickly became apparent to him that you were kind, sweet, caring. And honest. He soon found himself walking you home, meeting you for breakfast, sharing his latest worries with you. Your relationship, your friendship, was helped along by proximity. He remembered how he felt the day he realised that you lived in the apartment block next to his own. That you were so close to him, it had to mean that you two were destined for something more, together. He considered the logical explanations of course. You were both looking for the cheapest place to rent, you both needed access to the subway system, you were both single, so the tiny, studio apartments in the four buildings on this one corner suited you both perfectly. But it had to be more than that, surely.

In that seemingly destined togetherness, he found genuine happiness and comfort. It was a welcome change from his solitude. The years of loneliness had made his heart ache so profoundly that it felt like he was a new person around you. But he was still himself. Even deep down, there was the gnawing, screeching, desperate need for violence and chaos in the name of vengeance and reparations. The need for control, the lust for power. It was all too easy for him to slip into that thinking around you. You were so unique in your forgiving and trusting nature. So easily manipulated, so vulnerable. You trusted Eddie so much, and so quickly. And that alone satisfied the craving for power he had, even just for a little while. But the satisfaction dwindled, and the more time he spent with you, the stronger his desire for more of your affections and attention got.

More power over you, more exposure to you, more of you. And to him, he was being gifted that from the fates of the universe themselves. Because what more of a sign did he need than knowing that you were living in the apartment block next to his own. That you trusted him implicitly. That when you were with him, you confessed to feeling safer, feeling comforted yourself.

He wondered if you felt it as deeply as he did though. He worried over it, ruminating over the question of whether your feelings, while the same, were actually identical. He’d spend hours and hours at night, unable to fall asleep, but not grudging it in the slightest, staring at the ceiling and thinking of you. Did you think of him? Did you appreciate the way he appreciated you? Of course you couldn’t. He was… different. Different from most people really. He felt things stronger, he deserved more as a result. And as wonderful as you were, compared to him, you were still less than. But you could hope, couldn’t you? You could dream of his returned affections? Maybe you did. Maybe you lay in your own bed at night, praying to some gods who weren’t always listening if they were even there at all, that he would be willing to favour you with his attention, or even his love.

And lucky for you, Eddie felt generous. Enough so, that he was willing to put time and effort that he didn’t really have into favouring you with a hint of his adoration. Though, his panic driven mind and shy nature meant he couldn’t really express it to you outright. This would be something more secretive. The kind of adoration you might not even notice. But he would express his love at least.

A lot of dedication was required, copious amounts of effort which he was sure that you might eventually come to appreciate, should you ever find out, or should he ever express it to you in detail. Each day, he monitored your apartment. In order to be sure that he would have the most time, creating a relaxing and fulfilling experience for himself of course, he needed to be sure he knew when the optimum time for a little visit would be. When you left, when you arrived back. How long it took you to walk from the station to the front door of your apartment. Any kind of inconveniences he imagined would hold you back, and any favourable turns that might mean you were home earlier.

It wasn’t as difficult as he first imagined, given that he actually knew a lot of your routine already. And you were very much like him in the sense that you were habitual. You stuck to a routine. Unwise, really, and had he not been so consumed by his own nefarious plans he would have certainly warned you that it’s good to shake things up every now and then, just to throw potential stalkers off of your trail. He supposed the mention of that might scare you though. No one wanted to live in reality, not like he did. Everyone was happy to be blind to the scary things that lurked not even in the shadows but in the broad daylight of society. It was much easier to turn a blind eye to them.

Eddie hadn’t expected you to be much different, though he did think you might be ever so slightly smarter than the rest of the citizens who tucked up their coat collars when they passed by a crime in action and absent-mindedly held their keys between their knuckles. But there you were, walking down the alley shortcut even without him by your side. At least he knew you were likely to go the route he took you every day, and that shaved off almost ten minutes from what precious little time he might have alone.

As he watched you over the course of the week, he came to realise that he thought of your life as quite sad. Eddie appeared to be your only real friend. Or maybe he was something more to you? He had no doubt in his mind that you were possibly beginning to fall for him. Why else would you be willing to spend so much of your time around him? You were so kind and innocent, it was impossible to believe you had any kind of nefarious intentions, which was usually his go to worry when someone extended even the most minor of kindnesses to him. Like that one woman who had offered him her train ticket which she wasn’t going to use. Was she just trying to avoid using the train with him? Had she planted a bomb and decided that he deserved to die with the others? He was glad he had taken the bus that day. You can never tell with some people. But he could tell with you.

It was interesting though, because you didn’t seem to know or understand him as well as he did you, or even as well as you thought you did. You told him so often how genuine he was, how gentle and polite, how kind and generous, how cute and interesting and funny and gentlemanly. So either through willing ignorance, or genuine stupidity, you clearly hadn’t noticed the way he looked at you, leering with a disgustingly perverted lust that riddled him with guilt. So often he took glances down your shirt, admiring the way your breasts curved and filled out the glimpse of bra that he could see. And any time you were bent over, he was entirely focused on your ass, the way you filled out your pants, how it bounced lightly. And any time he had ever been brave enough to compliment you, you brushed it off, blushing, denying that there was anything about you that was worthy of any kind of praise. You were beautiful. You were sweet. But, you were just as pathetic as he was, in so many ways.

While that should have struck a sympathetic chord within him, instead it only made his heart beat more deviously. There would be less in the way, more of you for him. Every facet of your being, all of your attention, focused solely on Eddie. Truly, that was the ideal end goal here. Not ownership necessarily, but worship. Sometimes, it felt like you did. On your knees below him, staring up at him as you reached for something on a low down shelf as you fetched what he asked for. A servant, a worshipper, praying at his feet. Would you beg for him? Would you call to him as though he were a god? Would you open your mouth for salvation and accept it in the form of his rigid cock resting on your tongue, choking you at the back of your throat? He wanted you to. He believed in time, you could want the same thing. And little by little, he would drip feed that notion to you. Infiltrating your mind, body and soul, all for him. But first, he had to infiltrate your apartment. Luckily, that was proving to be a far easier task than he had first imagined when he set out on this first step of his plan.

On the morning he chose to execute this first part of his cunning plan, he waited patiently for you to leave your apartment. This involved him timing your morning. You would wake up, snooze your alarm, rest in your bed for those ten minutes while you checked your phone for messages or news or whatever you were doing, and then you would get up. You showered at night, he knew that now from conversations, not an easy topic to slip in casually but he had managed it. So in the morning, you only washed your face, brushed your teeth, went to the toilet, put on makeup, brushed your hair, got dressed. These things, he had timed you on in total, but he wasn’t sure of the order you did them, or how long each step took individually. He’d know soon enough though.

You ate toast every morning, with varying different toppings. Another fun fact he had gleaned from conversations with you. No doubt you assumed he was just trying to get to know you better, learn more about his friend, make a deeper connection. Which was true, in part, but ever so slightly more nefarious than you could ever imagine.

Taking into account that you might have to choose your outfit a couple of times, or might be having a bad hair day, or might need a little longer with one of the steps, he offered himself a generous margin for error. After all, he knew you would be out of your apartment for at least six hours this day, even adjusting for those ‘what ifs’ that he had planned for. It was the smart thing to do to provide less time in your space to make sure that it was spent well, than be stressed about the notion of you returning unannounced.

Once he was sure you were gone, he made his way rather casually from his own apartment out to the street. It was a rush. No one ever noticed him before, but now, it meant something. The people who brushed past him had no idea what was going on inside his mind, what kind of nasty business he was planning on getting up to. His invisibility, the fact that he was inconsequential enough to become a sort of living secret, was finally working in his favour.

With a perk in his step, he giddily stepped up to your building, pressing the wood just right in the way you knew would get the old and almost completely defunct lock to give way. And with that, he was inside. The thrill, the anticipation, it was enough to send him reeling. But he held his cool, kept himself under control. If anyone were to step out of their apartment and wonder who this stranger in the hallway was, he had his excuses lined up. Although, as prepared as he was, it didn’t stop his chest from shuddering with excitement, and his breath shaking with nerves. Especially not as he stood in front of the familiar sight of your door.

You had gone on vacation for three days once. The loneliest period of his life to date, mostly because you had managed to worm your way into his subconscious so quickly and with such ease that he forgot how lonely he was before he had met you. You’d asked him to water your plants on the second day. And he had done this, diligently, with great care. And then, he’d given you back your spare key with a smile, even when you insisted he keep it, you reminded him that it was better to stay safe and hold onto it yourself. He cared for you, you might need it. He might drop it and lose it and then who might get a hold of it? You smiled and kissed his cheek. He could still feel it if he thought hard enough. And as you walked into your apartment building, he had held the copy he had cut that morning in his fist, smiling at the stinging sensation on his palm as the points dug into his skin.

He held that key again, placing it into the lock as he held his breath, and opened your door. Rushing inside, he closed it slowly again, quietly, so no one in the hall could hear the exits and enterings. He knew what neighbours were like. Nosy. They might mention hearing you, and then you’d be confused, suspicious. Unless… you had given your key to someone else? No… he couldn’t think like that right now. There was no point in getting angry and jealous when he had business to attend to.

Eddie placed his backpack down on your console table in the small hallway. Reaching inside, he pulled out two tiny spy cameras he had bought on a less than legal and less than reputable site linked to him by someone on one of his frequently visited forums. He smiled as he held them between his fingers. They were his ticket into your mind, into your body, into your soul. And he had already planned where he was going to place them, but it was worth it to take one more look around your place now that he had the time to really explore. He’d been here multiple times, but always with you. Never a moment to himself, to have some fun. Except, of course, when he watered the plants. But he was less confident then, more keen to impress you and do a good job. Scared of messing something up. He came in, watered, left. And got the key copied. Now, he couldn’t care less.

You weren’t going to know he was here. He liked you, he appreciated you, he thought you were wonderful. But you weren’t the most observant. It was likely he could leave his backpack there and you might not even question it. But he was going to leave everything exactly the way he found it regardless. The last thing he wanted was a snag in his plan. So with that mindset, he took a slow walk around the kitchen and living space. It was small, but bigger than his. Nothing of note there. He doubted you got up to much in this space other than eating and watching TV. It was interesting to observe it, but the real goals were the bathroom and the bedroom, as he had suspected and planned for.

Heading down the small hallway there was a door in front of him and one to the side. In his head, he played a silent game of “eeny, meeny, miny, mo” and ended up heading straight forward. Opening the door into the room beyond, he realised it was your bathroom. The scent was pleasant. Slightly sugary, peaches, creams, clean. It didn’t have the bland soap smell that was barely covering the masses of damp and mould like his own bathroom did. Taking in the room, he imagined you there. As he observed the space, he placed you in it. Showering, whatever you used that smelled so sweet covering your nude body, suds slipping over your curves and rolls, like you were dousing yourself in icing sugar for him. A treat to taste.

Opening the shower curtain, he lifted your shampoo and sniffed it, inhaling deeply. Just the way you smelled when he hugged you, your light perfumed fragrance staying with him for the rest of his day and into the night as he thought of you. Placing the bottle back exactly, he turned to the sink, brushing his fingers lightly over your toothbrush. It was such a small gesture, such an insignificant action, he thought. But it felt deeply illicit, almost illegal. As though when you next brushed your teeth you might taste him, be completely hypnotised by it, and fall in love with him instantaneously.

Reminding himself that this was a time sensitive operation, he shook the thoughts from his mind and turned back to the bath and shower. It would make sense for him to place the camera in there, somewhere hidden but with a good view. He knew the camera was waterproofed to a point, but it wouldn’t last with too much splashback. And then he spotted it in the corner, a tiny patch of mould. Typical, every apartment in Gotham was riddled with it someway or another. But it would work as the perfect disguise for the camera. He slipped his shoes off, balancing in your bath on his tiptoes within his socks, leaving no marks, and reached up to stick the camera right in the corner. It was camouflaged well enough. Noticeable if you were really looking, but he reasoned that you might be the kind of person who would ignore a little mould problem until it was too difficult to pretend it wasn’t there. And by that point he would have removed the evidence.

Stepping back out of the tub, he put his shoes back on and made his way to the door, flicking off the light switch. With the bathroom in complete darkness, he looked for the soft blue dot that meant the camera was in working order. It wasn’t too obvious, nothing you would notice if you went to the toilet in the night. Only someone hyper-vigilant or looking for something to worry about might ever see it. Definitely not someone as trusting as you, and not while you were still half-asleep. For a brief moment, he did worry that you might shower in the dark, but he realised he was being ridiculous. So he left the bathroom behind, satisfied with his efforts in there. Now, he had to bug your bedroom.

As he walked to the other door in the hall he cursed himself. This wasn’t really bugging you, that would have required a microphone. He should have got something like that to accompany the visuals. Next time, maybe. When he got paid. This was going well so far, he imagined it would be easy enough to sneak in again and upgrade his surveillance equipment.

Eddie lost his train of thought completely when he entered your bedroom. He’d never been in here before. He never thought he would be. There was something so erotic about it, something inherently sexual about being in the space where you lay. Although you obviously got naked in the shower, and he had just been standing there, it was different in here somehow. Likely because instead of picturing you nude, alone, sopping wet and slick with soap, here… Here he could imagine you naked, soft and warm, with his arms wrapped around you as you slept. It was almost too much for him to think about, the potential for something he could have if he played his cards right.

Taking in the whole of the room, he felt his fingers twitching. So much to touch, to sniff. He had to avoid indulging himself though. The more he touched, the more evidence he was risking leaving behind. He had to pick the optimal place to put the camera and leave. A second glance around the room with a slightly clearer mind, he noticed a picture frame on the wall, painted black and slightly protruding. It would hide the camera well enough, he reasoned. And from the angle, it would capture the bed, or at least most of it. But luckily, he had reasoned that you slept on that side more often, as the night stand was filled with your things, a charging cable, your pill box, a well-read book. And your mirror was on the wall it overlooked also, beside your dresser. So the likelihood that he would get to watch your dress and undress in full view seemed to be a sure thing.

With both cameras finally secured, Eddie was far too excited to linger any longer. He would leave now, with plenty of time to spare, wander home past a takeout place to secure himself something more substantial than instant noodles as a reward, and he’d go home to enjoy the fruits of his labours. Finally. It felt like he’d been waiting for this moment for years. And realistically, with how perfect you were to him, with how much he wanted you, needed you, he felt like he had, even unknowingly. Like his whole life had led up to this point. A reward, for the suffering. You were the prize. And he was finally the winner. At last.

Back out on the streets, he could barely contain his excitement, the sheer unadulterated glee emanating from his very soul. Wearing a wide smile across his face, pressing into his cheeks which in turn rose up into the clear frames of his glasses, he ticked off the items on his “to-do” list and made his way back home. Each person who caught his eye, he smiled at. He noticed it happened a lot. Usually, he was ignored, completely invisible. But now, people were looking up, some people were even smiling back. He imagined it must be the fact that he looked more open. Smiling did that to a person. It made them warmer, welcoming, pleasant to observe. And a smile was infectious. A part of him, though, felt like maybe they knew. Maybe they were looking at him now as a man who radiated an aura that said he could do things. He could achieve his goal. He wasn’t someone to mess with. Because if you did, he would break into your house. He would learn your habits. He could do whatever he wanted with you. So you better be polite and smile at him, or else you’d be on his bad side.

With that sense of imagined and self-instilled, but no less prevalent, confidence, he entered his own apartment. He let out a sigh of contended relief. He had done it. And he was so pleased with himself. He felt like he could scream and shout in complete ecstasy. Because whether or not you realised it, or were even willing, you were his now. To observe, to watch and learn about. Like a pet, or one of those web-chats where the women would do what he wanted. But this was free. And he might not be able to control you, but it was better that way. He hated having to use the voice modulator and speak to them as they soullessly gripped their own breasts and touched themselves. He’d far rather be a silent observer. Voyeuristic. As though he’d walked in on them, and they continued regardless of his presence. Ignoring him in favour of their own pleasure. That’s what he wanted. His efforts today would at least give him more of that than he’d experienced before. And for the low price of some cameras and a day off work.

Eddie took the time to get comfortable in his own surroundings again. If he didn’t think about his worries, then they couldn’t hurt him. He’d just have to focus on other things, and try his hardest not to imagine you finding the cameras and calling the cops and somehow realising it was him who placed them there. Instead, he took a shower, watched some TV, took a nap, and ate his food. By that point in the day, he realised that you were likely to arrive home at any point, so, no longer trying to maintain an air of normalcy, he excitedly rushed to his desk.

From the drawer, he produced the box of tissues and the bottle of lotion he had purchased especially for this occasion, feeling that it deserved something of a higher quality than the stuff he kept under his bed. With trembling fingers, either from nerves or excitement, he couldn’t quite tell, he unzipped his pants and let his soft fingertips soothe over the exposed skin above his boxers. His skin tingled as he brushed over the tuft of hair that sat above the base of his stiffening cock.

He knew it was dangerous, to touch himself already, but he could barely contain the need. With his fist around his length, he began to absent-mindedly stroke himself as he stared at the grainy images of your empty apartment. Just that alone was enough to have him twitching under his touch, and fearing he might be ready to cum before he had properly begun to enjoy his hard work, he let go in a shock, taking a few deep breaths and staring down at his length, bobbing as he panted. Precum dripped from the head, and he tapped it with his finger, spreading it over the flushed tip. With a sharp inhale, he chastised himself for being so desperate. There was no need to waste this moment. He needed to get control over his urges, at least until you were actually on screen.

And he didn’t have to wait long, because soon enough, he could see you entering your bathroom. He looked away as you used the toilet, not because he was squeamish, but oddly enough because that seemed like an invasion of your privacy, unlike anything else he had planned. A quick glance to check you were finished showed him that you were already undressing yourself to head into the shower, but much to his demise, as you stepped into the tub, your rear on display to him, the camera cut out just as you began to turn.

In a quick fit of rage, he screamed and smacked the side of his monitor. He had almost had you, full frontal, every inch of you visible to him as you lathered yourself up. He could only imagine the kind of wonderful display he was missing right now. As he conjured up the images of you touching yourself, glistening and wet, he cursed the site he bought the cameras from. He knew it was too good to be true. They were obviously shit, complete and total garbage. Just his luck. Nothing ever went right for him. But then he realised, it was only a matter of minutes until you were finished showering. Then you’d be entering your bedroom. A second chance to see you.

Eddie waited impatiently, thrumming his fingers against the desk and scratching at the veneer that covered the cheap chipboard underneath, nails resting in the grooves he had made from the ceaseless, nerve-induced repetitive motion. But when you appeared, he was struck into a motionless silence, as though he had no idea what to do. It felt like you were there in the room with him, standing in front of him, wet from the shower, hair tied up, nothing but a towel on. He could picture you looking into his eyes, the image on the screen was grainy enough that he had to use his imagination to get clarity anyway, as you dropped the sheet that covered your body, all modesty gone.

And just as you did in his imagination, you did in real life also. There on the screen, your body, uncovered and facing his camera. He couldn’t make out extreme details, but he could vividly picture the way your body moved, your thighs, stomach and breasts, all of you bouncing, jiggling softly as you dried off.

With a pump of the lotion bottle, his palm was slick and quickly attending to his cock, which twitched in a desperate plea for him to notice it and take care of the strenuous tension held within. To do what he had set out to, finally. His own private show. Leaning back in the chair, he kept his eyes focused on the screen as best as he could, fighting the urge to close them in pleasure as he jerked himself, slow but rough movements that forced the foreskin down over his reddened and sensitive head.

Eddie’s eyes were wide as he watched you wandering around your room, still naked. It felt like you knew he was watching and were doing this for him. Why weren’t you dressed yet? He felt his heart sink, though, when you bent down to the bottom drawer, knowing he was about to lose the visual of you, so speeding up his movements around his cock. But instead of clothes, you produced something long, a cable dangling from it. And it didn’t take much of Eddie’s immense brain power to figure out what it was you were about to do.

Breath held in his lungs, he watched you walk to the other side of the bed, holding the plug in one hand. And he watched you disappear out of frame, only the top of your head visible at the angle you lay on. He hadn’t accounted for that at all. Maybe he should have checked where the free sockets in your bedroom were, but how could he possibly have known he was potentially to be treated to watching you touch yourself. Furious at his lack of foresight, and not wanting to tease himself any further, he switched off his laptop and went to sulk in his bed, dick softening almost immediately. He'd have to go back, tomorrow. It was risky, but he needed to see you. He needed it.

In the morning, Eddie was still just as irritated as he had been all night. He’d barely slept, body twitching in rage, stomach knotted at the denial of his orgasm since he went to bed to when he decided it was a reasonable time to give up trying to even get fifteen minutes of sleep in. He lazily dressed himself and went to sit on his sofa, counting the minutes until he felt it wouldn’t be too risky to leave his apartment and head to yours.

This time, as he walked past the people on the street, he didn’t feel like he was co-existing with them. It was back to normal. He was ignored. Most likely because they could sense his shame. Able to taste his humiliation and defeat on their tongues as his scent wafted past them. They knew he was worthless, and useless, and pathetic. He couldn’t even stalk someone right. How is it possible to be bad at crime? That’s what they’d think. And he’d have to nod and smile and agree and take their cruel words. It was the punishment he deserved.

Not for a single moment did he consider the irony in his deep Catholic guilt-ridden brain that he was on his way to provide himself with a pleasurable experience. Eddie was smart, but he wasn’t entirely self-aware. It was something that occasionally occurred to him, but never long enough that it drew his attentions away from what he deemed to be his more important thoughts. And right now, more so than his deeply troubling efforts to chastise himself through the lens of society, he was focused on finally achieving his goal. He’d see you, have you in his mind, on his screen. You’d be there for his entertainment, he was going to get what he wanted.

At your door, he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and listening quietly with his ear against the wood to make sure you weren’t somehow at home. Nothing, just the tinny echoes of your neighbours gently echoing down the hallway and through the thin walls of the apartment building. So he took out his key and entered. It was nerve-wracking. He was less prepared today. Despite having already done this once, it wasn’t any easier. And he hadn’t given himself time to think of a plan at all. He knew he had to get in and change the camera angle in the bedroom, maybe try and check the one in the shower, although he might just have to remove it completely, to risk the evidence being found when it hadn’t even been of any use in the first place. That would be just his luck.

So that was his first stop. Back into your bathroom, where he could still smell your deodorant and perfume, the sweet air hanging there like a memory of you. He inhaled deeply, not even realising he was doing it, as he removed his shoes once more to stand in the tub. And with that first unpleasant task out the way, a reminder of how close he had been to seeing you fully naked for his own sordid enjoyment, he got his shoes back on and headed to the bedroom. Eddie stopped at the door though, almost as though he were scared to enter. He knew it was silly, he’d been there literally the day before, but now it felt even more like an invasion of your privacy.

It was because you touched yourself. He had imagined you did, quite frequently actually. It was one of his favourite fantasies to play over in his head. But to get to see a glimpse of you getting ready to actually do it? It made the bedroom intimidating. What use was he in your life if you were so used to pleasuring yourself? He felt threatened, intimidated. And for the briefest of moments he considered leaving your apartment and going home empty handed, happy to leave the other camera in your bedroom and hope you never found it, or blamed your landlord if you ever did.

But, feeling defiant, and like he was owed this luxury if you were never going to be satisfied with him physically, he opened the door and stood over the threshold, taking in the surroundings. Your bed wasn’t made, you must have been running late this morning. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, the idea of bumping into you, or entering while you were still there. It was terrifying to think he could make a mistake and end up being caught out. There was no point worrying though, he was here now, and you were gone. His heart stopped when he noticed the bedside table though, covered in energy drinks and a packet of aspirin. You were sick. And yet, you’d still gone out to work? He smiled as he considered how brave and determined you were, his chest in pain as he wished you had told him. He could have looked after you. Or did you not need him for that either?

Why were you like this? You weren’t completely stupid. You must have known, must have realised, that you had an effect on him. That this teasing, making him want you but flaunting the fact you didn’t need him, it was driving him mad. He could feel his mouth turning down, a scowl on his brows as he felt his fists clench in anger.

And then the door opened. And his heart stopped for at least five seconds. Unable to breathe or move or think as he heard your voice, speaking to someone, on the phone he guessed given the lack of another voice.

“Yeah… I just figured- no I’m ok, really. But there was no point in suffering through work with this headache. I really need more sleep. And besides, Eddie wasn’t there, so there wasn’t much point in hanging around… I just hope he doesn’t come looking for me after work… Stop it! So what if I do… You don’t know him… Ok, ok shut up! I’m going to go for a nap. Love you!”

He listened with baited breath as you made your way further into your apartment, knowing you weren’t likely to have a nap on the couch when your comfortable bed was right in the other room. The room he was currently in.

In a panic, his eyes darted around him looking for a space to hide. There was no point in trying to think of excuses, that was a plan flawed from the beginning. He could never face you and try to make you believe whatever story he concocted on the spot. It would be entirely unbelievable, and then everything would be ruined. His efforts. His relationship with you. His life. Everything. So instead, he focused on concealing himself, just until you were asleep, or maybe until you left again. As he searched the room for a good hiding spot, his fingers drifted idly over the pen knife he held in his pocket.

It was a ridiculous notion. But he had to give himself credit. Maybe it would make a good final option. Scorched earth. Commit to it completely. Everything was already well and truly fucked, he might as well save himself the embarrassment. But was he really considering doing that? Getting rid of you? To save himself from a little bit of embarrassment. The least he could do was attempt to hide first. He couldn’t jump to quickly to an action that was so irreversible.

The bed? But what if you reached under it for something, or saw his reflection in the mirror. What if when you lay down on it, the mattress sunk and suffocated him? Behind the dresser? But then he would have to crouch in that corner, and it was doubtful there was space for him. Plus, you were going to walk through that door any second, and he wouldn’t be able to get in there in time.

From the hallway, he could hear you shuffling with your bags and keys, opening the fridge for a snack to bring through with you no doubt. He backed into the wall, somehow hoping that he might be able to camouflage into it, or press himself through it if he forced it hard enough. Luckily, he didn’t have to think anything much stupider than that for any longer, because he realised he had been standing in front of your closet. The slatted wooden doors creaked as he nudged them, and he scrunched his eyes up, cursing himself. You were likely going to open it, but it was his last resort, as he could hear your footsteps closing in. So, as quickly and as quietly as he could, he opened the door and stepped in, standing in the surprisingly open space and holding his breath so you wouldn’t hear him.

And then you were there. Standing in the room, right in front of him. Likely able to smell him, to sense him. But you didn’t, and he was so thankful for it he could almost feel tears of gratitude welling in his eyes. He moved back as you walked past the closet doors, trying to make himself as flat as possible, to hide in the shadows. His view of you was slightly obscured then, but he could make out the vague movements of you traipsing around your room. You kicked off your shoes and aimed them at the closet, the sudden bang causing his heart to leap into his throat, and his gut to twist, feeling like he had taken a hit to it. In a bid to not be caught off guard like that again, he moved forward, closer to the doors, where he could peer through the slats. He was certain that at the angle, you wouldn’t be able to see him. Luckily, whether or not that was true, there were other things on your mind that would surely distract you from any chance of noticing Eddie.

He watched in awe as you began to undress, shifting your pants down and removing your top layers until you were just in your underwear. And then, mercifully, and much to Eddie’s amusement, you removed those too. You stood, completely naked, in front of him. It felt to him like he must have been hallucinating, or that you must know he was in there. It was too perfect. The full display, the way you moved, bending over and strutting in front of his line of vision. But this was all too real, and the threat of being caught held him back from ecstasy. It grounded him. It kept him in reality, the truth of which was that he was risking everything being there and watching you.

Eddie tried to swallow the lump in his throat, his nerves catching up to him. There was an immense amount of guilt flooding his brain, his every sense consumed by it. He wondered if he really should close his eyes. It was already disrespectful of him to have broken in, to have watched you, to have seen you undress. Now, he wasn’t even looking in observation to prevent being caught. This was all pleasure. Pure, unadulterated, but disgusting. He was so ashamed, so horrified by himself, by the way he could feel his cock stiffening, head scratching against the front of his pants, his fingers twitching as they reached for it. He palmed it over the fabric, clenching his teeth as he felt the sting of pleasure, the horror of what he was doing, and the way it made him feel bad. Naughty. Excited.

Of course he shouldn’t be doing this. But it was too late. He was here now. And he reasoned with himself that it was meant to be. Nobody was handed an opportunity like this, let alone him. Someone up there, the God he was so afraid of perhaps, was gifting him joy. A treat, a reward, for the suffering he’d endured up until this point.

As though the universe were trying to convince him of this notion, Eddie noticed that you were reaching in the drawer where he knew you kept the vibrator. The one he had watched in expectant joy as you produced it the night before, when the show was cut short. Now he had a front row seat. Nothing was going to stop him from taking advantage of that.

Through the small slits, his nose pressed up against it as he tried to get as close as possible, Eddie watched you as you lay back on the bed, reminding him of the paintings of the beautiful women at the art museums, the ones that looked soft enough that they might taste like marshmallows, or a slightly undercooked pancake. He was drooling at the thought, not hungry, just desperate to taste you. He let out a soft moan as he watched you flick the power button and bring the vibrating head of the wand up your thigh. Luckily, you hadn’t heard. He imagined you might not be able to over the sound. It was so loud, so permanent. He’d remember it as long as he lived.

When the vibrator teased your lips, you bit your lip, throwing your head back at the touch. Eddie tried to commit the image to memory. He wanted it to be the last thing he ever saw. He could have died happily standing in your closet in that moment, that was until you really started to enjoy yourself. Pressing it hard at the top, the pulsing movements against your clit made you moan, your free hand clinging to the sheets below you. As you sank lower onto the bed, you shifted your hips, spreading your legs wider and allowing Eddie a full view of your already slick and dripping cunt.

Quietly as he could, he inhaled deeply through his nose, desperate to see if he could smell you from his hiding spot, and was enraged to find out he couldn’t. But he was instantly distracted by the sight of you, bringing your free hand away from the sheets and to your breasts, holding them, fingers digging into the ample flesh as you squeezed and grabbed. He was unaware that his own hands were copying the motions, imagining how you might feel in his palm.

Bringing your fingers to your nipples, he watched as you pulled and teased at them, moaning louder. It excited him, to realise you were into a little bit of pain. Maybe you would let him bite you, wrap his mouth around your breasts, let his tongue flit over your hard nipples before he held them in his teeth until you couldn’t take it anymore, pulling at his hair to get him to stop. Pushing his head away and dragging him back in for more, because you found his touch irresistible.

Suddenly stopped in his tracks, Eddie felt a pang of guilt. As though his imagination had gone too far, his fantasy dropping to the floor and shattering, the shards of it reflecting his face looking back up at himself, ashamed of what he was doing. He was pathetic. For the remainder of your session, he resolved not to look. He’d even try his best not to listen. But that resolve was shattered the moment you moved from moans to a mumble, and started speaking.

“Mmm… yes… oh god, yes…”

Your voice was sweet, lower than usual, he could feel the hum behind it vibrating in his chest. Something about it, the way you verbalised your gratitude to your own ministrations, he could feel the effect it had on him as his cock twitched, painful now in it’s erect state, desperately begging for him to grab a hold of it and provide some relief. But there was no way he could do it discreetly, or quietly, not in the state he was in, and certainly not when he heard your next words.

“Oh… yes… oh, Eddie… oh my god, Eddie…”

Briefly, he tried to convince himself that there was another Eddie in your life. That he wasn’t the object of your illicit affections right at that moment. He couldn’t believe it was possible, that you were there in the throes of pleasure, only getting off to the idea that it was him touching you.

Would it be so bad? Would it destroy everything if he came out of the closet then and there, and offered to help you. He tried to think of how he would phrase it, suave and dreamlike perhaps.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m here to lend a hand.”

No, that sounded like a bad porno.

“What a coincidence, I’m right here!”

Made him sound like a fucking magician.

There was no right way to do it, so instead he stayed perfectly still, his heart in his chest and his cock so hard it hurt, threatening to cum inside his pants at the mere mention of his name crossing your lips, trying hard to stop thinking of his cock head crossing them too.

In a surprisingly short time, which he attributed to the inclusion of himself in your fantasies, you were cumming, screaming his name as you shuddered on the bed, hands all over yourself, likely thinking they were his. He made mental notes of the way you touched and grabbed, hoping for the opportunity to put what he learned into practice someday. He delighted quietly in the way you tossed down the wand and rolled over in bed, still naked, your slick on your thighs and over your cunt. It was delightfully filthy, and he couldn’t help but picture his arms around you, his knee between your thighs, feeling your arousal coating his skin, the scent of sex lingering throughout the night. Or would you let him fall asleep with his cock deep inside of you, warming it in your body as you both slept. There would be time to find out. Right now, he needed to figure out how to get out of your apartment.

His legs were beginning to get sore from standing so still, and he shuffled stealthily from one foot to the other, trying desperately to keep the blood flow moving and to prevent himself from toppling over when it came time to leave. Thankfully, within twenty minutes, you had fallen asleep, your breathing deep and slow, soft moans as you exhaled. Deciding it was now or never, Eddie pushed open the closet door slowly, and stepped back out into your room. The early afternoon sun was beating down hard, filling the room with light. He didn’t feel secure. He felt obvious, stupid. On display for anyone to see. But in terms of practicality, he was grateful for it, as he was able to manoeuvre himself easily towards the door, stepping over the various pieces of clothing you had discarded.

But he lingered for a moment, turning back to take another look at you. Without the slats obscuring his vision you looked even more ethereal. And tempting. He knew it was risky, but it seemed worth it, to traverse your floor and make it over to you, just for a closer inspection at everything you were offering to him in your nude repose.

The closer he got to you, the more intoxicating you became. Your scent, your aura, the sounds you made, it took everything in him not to scream, or to whimper, or to burst into tears. Everything he had wanted lay right in front of him, ripe for the taking. And he’d be a fool not to take even at least a little bit. So he stretched his hand out, placing his palm slowly and lightly on your side, letting it linger there, still, before he drew it down along your waist to your thigh where he let his fingers drift up and down slowly, listening to your soft moans, his own choking in his throat as he kept his eyes focused on your face. He had to make sure that if you woke up he could… he wasn’t really sure what he would do. But it would be better than turning around to find that you had been watching him. Occasionally though, his vision dropped to your breasts, and his fingers, twitching feverishly, left your thigh to graze over your nipples, which were hard in the cool air of your room. You let a soft moan escape past your plump, open lips, and he could feel himself losing control. There was little to no hope of him being able to walk home in this state, and he had very few options available to him. So, deciding he’d already gone this far, he removed his hands from your body and eased his pants down, not bothering to unbutton or unzip them.

His cock bobbed freely as it was released, and Eddie was so thankful to have it no longer pressing against the front of his pants so tightly. He rubbed it with his palm, holding it down and letting it bound back up, biting his lip as he positioned himself directly in front of you, where he could line up his vision to where his cock head was in front of your mouth. It would make it easier for him to imagine you opening your lips, sticking your tongue out, ready to receive him.

Rubbing his cock languidly, he let his thumb drift over the head when he reached the top. Feeling the sticky drips of precum, he realised he would need something to clean up with. Looking around the room, his eyes fell to your panties, the ones you had only removed less than an hour ago. He bent slowly, picking them up and bringing them first to his face. Inhaling deeply, he let a soft whimper escape as your scent lingered on his senses. He clutched them, covering his nose and mouth, breathing deep a few more times before he placed his hand in them and dragged them up his length.

Your touch, that was what he imagined. Your own hand, caressing him, stroking his chest as you gripped his cock, tapping it against your lip and tongue before you swallowed it down. Your mouth would be warm. Your hands would be soft. Your thighs would be comforting as they wrapped around him, holding him into you as he… touched you… no… fucked you. He would fuck you. You’d sink into him and he’d make you moan his name like before. Make you scream it, beg for him, ask him for more as soon as he was finished. He’d tell you that you felt good, that you had a pretty little cunt, that you were made for him.

He could feel his heart rate rising, his teeth biting hard on his lip as his movements became more visceral. His breath shuddered as he picked up the pace. He could feel you on his skin, taste you on his tongue. And if he just reached out, if he just took this one step further, over the precipice, beyond where he could come back from… But it wasn’t worth it. The suspense would feel better. The punishment, denying himself that would mean it would be so much sweeter when you offered yourself to him, consciously, with full consent.

As he pumped at his stiff cock, he let his other hand fall to your cheek, stroking it softly. He was aware that the rest of your body was there, ready to be groped and appreciated by his starving hands, but this felt tender. It felt like a connection between you both. He wanted you, he wanted your body, around him and on him, but he wanted you to feel appreciated. And when he really considered it, that was what everything he had done so far boiled down to.

He just wanted to show you how much he loved you. Appreciated you. Wanted you.

You would know soon enough, he could feel that certainty in his bones, in the way his body tensed and tightened, teeth clenched as he strained his whole jaw, trying not to make any noise as he came, his warm cum painting the panties, the fabric catching it all and preventing him from being caught.

Standing still, cheeks flushed with shame and pride, an odd mix even for someone like him, tainted with copious amounts of Catholic guilt, he felt his knees buckling slightly. Trying to keep himself upright, his body convulsed once more, and again, and he realised he was still cumming. His cock, throbbing in his hand, throat catching on the whining yelps that begged to be let free. But he swallowed, them, pushing his fist to the base of his cock and slowly jerking it, trying to finish himself off, which eventually he mercifully seemed to achieve.

Shakily, he tried to control his breathing. He managed to calm himself enough to walk backwards, softening cock in his hands, still out, as he made his way to the hallway of your apartment. Out there, the light lightly dimmer, he felt calmer, more concealed. Wiping the remnants of his cum from himself, he scrunched the panties into a ball and put them in his pocket. It would be risky to take them, but he could hardly leave them. He hoped you might just assume they’d been kicked under a dresser. Maybe you’d tell him about it, and he’d have to keep his face from smiling at this little secret he had afforded himself.

He kept his hand around them as he made his way quietly out of your apartment, out of the building, and back on to the streets, even after the damp of his cum began to seep out and coat his palm. His only regret was that he wouldn’t be able to smell you on them. But having them felt like a reminder, like a trophy. And once he was back in his apartment he produced them once more, taking great care to look around him and make sure no one could see what he was doing, his paranoia getting the better of him. Placed on the coffee table, he thought about what he would do with them. Wash them. Use them again. It crossed his mind that it could be a good idea to get one of those toys, the ones shaped like… but it wouldn’t be shaped like you. A confused mix of miserable and hopeful, simultaneously consumed by the guilt his lust had cost him and the insurmountable pride he felt in knowing your thought of him, the way he thought of you. He had known you were meant for him. He was never wrong.

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