Victor Criss x Readers/Oneshots

|| unkown ||

Credit: darth-stetter on Tumblr

Pairing: Victor x Reader

Vic stumbled on the walkway, his eyes on the window with the soft glow of a light still on. He tried not go; Belch warned him, "Don't go to Y/N's tonight, you know she doesn't like being around you when you're drunk."

He nodded, ignoring Belch's advice. Y/N was his tutor, and it was through Belch that she and Vic met. Well, not met, they knew each other, but she refused to associate herself with Vic, because of who he associated himself with.

Understandable, he thought, she's probably just an uptight, prissy bitch anyways.

But, he knew he was wrong. When he looked at her, he saw something more... someone who could match him in his intellect. Someone who wasn't afraid to be passionate about the things she loved.

He was fascinated.

It took him a while, but when he finally won her over, he felt proud. She was his.

Still, he knew she and the bowers gang, as well as the girls that dated Henry and Patrick, would not get along too well.

Y/N played by the rules, she played it safe. Unlike Patrick or Henry's girls, Y/N was loved, not feared. And even so, he would not let Y/N near Patrick's sickly sights. He had his own girlfriend, but who knew what was going on either of those fuckers' mind at any given moment?

He swallowed lightly and stumbled over to the open window. He peeked his head inside, and observed Y/N; in pajama shorts and tank, her cat, Snowflake, sprawled on her lap as she read a book. Vic squinted his eyes and read the title of the book, he scoffed to himself as he read the title, The Great Gatsby.

"Of all things to read, you choose to reread that shit again?"

Without flinching, Y/N responded, her eyes never leaving the page of her book, "It's a classic. I don't berate you for reading A Clockwork Orange over and over again."

Vic rolled his eyes and Y/N lowered her book. Her eyes were steady when she stared at the cut above his eye, and the dried blood on his shirt. Her eyebrows furrowed when she observed him closely, "Are you drunk?"

Vic sighed, "I had some whiskey with the boys."

Y/N rolled her eyes as she tossed her book aside and gently pushed Snowflake off of her lap, the cat meowing as she got to her feet and strode towards the window, "And what made you think it was a good idea to come here drunk? You think I don't know about your scuffle with Greta's friends?"

"They started it," Vic countered.

"No, Patrick and his girl started it. I don't know why you even got involved, you should have let them handle it."

"They were ganging upon them," Vic explained.

"And? Maybe they deserved it for what they did to Greta."

"You don't even like Greta," he spat, his voice rising.

"That's beside the point, Vic! I heard you hit Teddy and Rob with a bat!"

Vic chuckled, "Well, yeah I mean–"

"I can't believe you would do that Vic! You should've let them get their asses kicked! I told you that you need to start–"

"I didn't come here for a lecture, Y/N," Vic interrupted.

Y/N crossed her arms, and tapped her foot, "Then what did you come here for?"

Vic exhaled slowly, thinking of Henry with his girl, even Patrick with his girl, together. Although they were dysfunctional, the sight of watching those fuckers with their girls made him miss his. He stared up at her; her eyes losing their patience, "I missed you."

He smirked softly at her, and he saw her anger fade as she rolled her eyes and smiled, "Oh really?"

"Yeah, really," Vic whispered, taking her hand in his and kissing it softly.

Y/N scoffed, annoyed, but smiling, "I missed you too, Vicky."

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

"You know how I feel about you–"

"Being drunk, I know. But, I promise, I won't be a nuisance, I just want to be with you," he pleaded, his voice weak and soft.

He saw her ponder it for a moment, when she finally sighed, "Do not make a habit out of this Victor Criss."

Vic jumped through the window and immediately pulled his blood-splattered shirt off. Y/N chuckled and walked back to her bed, pulling the bedsheets back and allowing Vic to slip in.

She pulled up her book and Vic wrapped his arms around her waist, "Hmm read to me, baby."

"I thought you hated The Great Gatsby," she pointed.

He nodded, "I do, but I love your voice."

The room was spinning when he closed his eyes, but, amidst the dizziness and the room looking like a blur of colors, it was her voice that reminded him that he was here. With her.