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thedensworld · 1 month ago

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Talk the Stalker | C.Sc

Genre: fluff

Summary: Seungcheol is obsessed with you, he loves you and he would do anything to protect you.

Note: i'm obsessed, addicted, and drowned in his pretty smile! Happiness suit him sfm!

Seungcheol's hand was warm as it held yours tightly while the two of you entered the restaurant. He had already noticed two or three cameras tailing him outside, snapping pictures of the two of you together. He paid them no mind—your relationship was public anyway, and he was too used to the attention to care. Right now, all that mattered to him was making sure you were okay.

This restaurant was your favorite, a haven you always turned to when your appetite disappeared—which had happened again today. He had picked you up from the shooting set after a long day. You had texted him earlier, letting him know you’d be working from afternoon until late evening. Coincidentally, his own schedule had wrapped up at the same time, so he decided to spend the night with you.

"Can we grab something first? I think I’m gonna pass out," you muttered the moment you slid into his car.

Seungcheol sighed deeply, already anticipating this. You hadn’t eaten, had you? His mind pieced together the puzzle: you probably woke up barely two hours before your schedule, rushed to get ready, spent an hour commuting, and then worked the entire day without a single meal. The thought of it frustrated him—he had been through similar habits in the past, too busy to eat. But seeing you, the love of his life, neglecting yourself like this made his chest ache. Without a word, he drove the two of you straight to your go-to spot.

While you disappeared to the restroom, Seungcheol took the liberty of ordering your usual meal. When you returned, he waved you over, pulling the chair beside him. As you sat down, his hand instinctively reached for your back, rubbing soothing circles to ease the tension he imagined must be building there.

"How’s your back? Still hurt?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with concern.

You had injured yourself three months ago during a stunt for an action film—a brutal fall onto your back that had left you with a dislocated shoulder and lingering pain. While everything had seemed fine recently, yesterday’s severe backache brought the worries flooding back for both of you.

"Stop making me worry, could you?" Seungcheol sighed when you gave him a soft chuckle, clearly trying to downplay the issue. "Sometimes I wonder how your fragile body even handles all those stunts," he added, shaking his head.

“Fragile?” you scoffed, lightly smacking his arm. “I work out, thank you very much.”

He lifted your arm with a smirk, inspecting it playfully. “This slender little arm trying to punch a stuntman? I’m not worried about them; I’m worried about you.”

“Shut up,” you muttered with a grin, making Seungcheol laugh.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. His tone softened as he said, “That’s why you need to stop getting hurt, okay? I know how much you love your job, but if you want to do it for a long time, you have to take care of yourself.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his words. It was something you always told him whenever he pushed himself too hard. “Stealing my lines now?” you teased, and he chuckled warmly.

After dinner, you suggested taking a walk. Seungcheol hesitated, asking if you were too tired, but you insisted. He figured you must’ve missed him more than you were letting on, and the thought filled him with a fluttery warmth he couldn’t quite explain.

As the two of you strolled down the quiet street, the chill of the night air began to creep in. Seungcheol noticed you shivering and immediately shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased with a playful smile, and he let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” Seungcheol said shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up at him, your lips curling into a smile as you clung to his arm. “Anything?” you challenged with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Would you kill someone for me?”

Seungcheol’s brows furrowed, though his lips twitched with amusement. “Not to that scale. Know your place!” he shot back, earning a soft laugh from you.

"Are you happy with me?" Seungcheol’s voice broke the comfortable silence as he reached for your hand, holding it firmly before swinging it lightly, a playful gesture to get your attention. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and you couldn’t help but smile at the warmth radiating from him.

You nodded eagerly, the sincerity in your expression clear. "I think you’re one of the very few people who can make me this happy," you admitted, your words filled with genuine affection.

His brows furrowed almost immediately, and he stopped walking, a playful pout forming on his lips. "I’m not the only one?" he asked, feigning offense.

You chuckled, amused by his theatrics. "Know your place," you teased, leaning closer as a mischievous grin spread across your face.

His pout melted into a radiant smile, his dimple making a brief appearance. "I was kidding earlier, babe," he said softly, though his playful tone lingered as he began walking backward to face you, still holding your hand securely in his.

Seungcheol's gaze lingered on you, his eyes warm and filled with adoration. After a moment, he raised a brow and asked, “Can I stay the night?” The flirty tilt of his tone made you raise yours in mock disbelief.

“Isn’t this the first time you’re actually asking?” you questioned, suppressing a laugh as you tilted your head.

He nodded, chuckling at your amused expression. “I know, I know. I must be the worst boyfriend, huh? I never ask for consent, I won’t kill anyone for my girlfriend, and to top it all off, I make fun of her slender arms.”

You gasped in mock outrage and raised your hand to playfully slap his arm, but he anticipated it and bolted ahead, laughter echoing through the quiet park near the restaurant. The chase was on, and you found yourself running after him, your laughter mingling with his in the cool night air.

That night, before heading home, the park became your private playground, filled with stolen moments of joy and carefree laughter. You hoped, for both your sakes, that no paparazzi managed to capture the scene.

You entered your apartment, Seungcheol trailing behind you. Though it wasn’t as luxurious or spacious as Seungcheol’s place, it carried a charm he adored—you. Every corner of your home was filled with your scent, your presence, and your personality. To him, it wasn’t just a place—it was a sanctuary, his sanctuary.

“Home sweet home,” you muttered, kicking off your shoes. Seungcheol smiled, watching as you settled in, your energy shifting into the comfort of your space.

As usual, Jibby, your orange tabby cat, sauntered over to greet you, his tail flicking lazily behind him. The cat had been your loyal companion ever since you rescued him on a shooting set two years ago. Predictably, Jibby ignored Seungcheol entirely, keeping his amber eyes locked on you with unwavering devotion.

“Still no love for me, huh?” Seungcheol joked, crouching to scratch Jibby behind the ears, only to receive a flick of the tail in return. “This cat’s got some serious attitude.”

You chuckled, picking up Jibby and holding him close. “He’s selective. He knows who pays the rent around here.”

As you placed Jibby back on the floor, you noticed strands of his fur scattered everywhere. “Oh, Jibby! Your fur’s everywhere!” you exclaimed, brushing some off your pants.

Seungcheol nodded in agreement, crouching to inspect the floor. “It’s not even summer, and he’s already shedding like crazy. You think he’s stressed?”

Your face filled with concern as you knelt beside Jibby, running your hands gently over his fur. “Oh no, Jibby. What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

Before you could continue, Jibby let out a loud, startling meow, making both you and Seungcheol jump. The sound was completely out of character—Jibby was always a calm and quiet cat.

“That’s...new,” Seungcheol said, frowning. “I’ve never heard him meow like that before.”

Your concern deepened, and as if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Opening it, you found your building’s security guard standing there. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, his tone apologetic. “We got a report from your neighbor. They said your cat’s been meowing loudly for hours. Is everything okay?”

You turned back to Jibby, the worry evident in your eyes. “I don’t know,” you admitted, stroking his fur as he let out another sharp meow. “I think something’s wrong.”

That night, sleep was the last thing on your mind. You stayed up with Jibby, trying to comfort him as his restless meows continued. Seungcheol, sensing how stressed you were, insisted on staying over. When he saw how exhausted you looked around 3 a.m., he gently took over, cradling Jibby in his arms while you rested on the couch.

By dawn, it was clear Jibby needed professional care. “I’ll take him to the vet,” Seungcheol offered, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve got an early schedule, and I can handle this.”

You hesitated, guilt flickering in your eyes. “Are you sure? You’ve already—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, giving you a reassuring smile. “Jibby’s family. And family takes care of each other.”

As you watched him gently place Jibby into the carrier, whispering soothing words to the stressed cat, you felt a swell of gratitude and love for the man who had seamlessly woven himself into your life—and Jibby’s too.

The next day, Seungcheol received a call from the vet. The feline, Jibby, was missing home and showing signs of increased stress. Hearing this, Seungcheol couldn’t help but worry. You were out of town for a shooting schedule and wouldn’t be back until the next day, so Seungcheol decided to take matters into his own hands. He asked his manager to help him pick up Jibby from the vet, determined to make the cat feel better.

Driving to your apartment with Jibby in the passenger seat was no small task. The cat meowed incessantly, his cries echoing through the car. Seungcheol tried speaking to him in the same soft, soothing tone he had heard you use countless times. “Hey, buddy, we’re going home. You’ll feel better soon, I promise,” he said, glancing over at Jibby. But his attempts were futile; the cat’s distress didn’t subside, and Seungcheol found himself understanding your concern on a much deeper level.

Once they arrived, Seungcheol texted you: “Jibby’s home safe now. Don’t worry, I’ve got him.”

He set down Jibby’s carrier, opened it, and placed some food in the bowl. He watched as the cat cautiously stepped out, sniffing around before beginning to eat. Gradually, Jibby seemed to relax.

Seungcheol didn’t turn on the lights, thinking it might overwhelm Jibby. Instead, he opened the curtains slightly, letting the moonlight bathe the room in a soft glow. Leaning back on the couch, he kept an eye on the cat, who finally settled beside him.

“You finally opened up to me, huh, Jibby?” Seungcheol murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. It felt like a small victory to earn even a fraction of the cat’s trust.

Suddenly, the sound of the passcode being entered broke the serene moment. Seungcheol sat up, his body tensing. You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow. Who could it be?

The door creaked open, and a shadowy figure in a hoodie stepped inside. Jibby’s demeanor shifted instantly; he bolted toward the figure, his fur standing on end as he hissed and meowed angrily.

Seungcheol’s heart pounded as he rose from the couch, flipping on the lights. “Who are you?” he barked, his voice filled with authority. The intruder froze for a second before bolting for the door.

Not wasting a moment, Seungcheol dashed after him. The man was just reaching the emergency exit when Seungcheol grabbed him by the hoodie and shoved him against the wall with a force that came from pure adrenaline.

“Who are you?!” Seungcheol growled, his voice dangerously low as he pressed the man harder against the wall, preventing any chance of escape. “Why are you here? Why do you know my girlfriend’s passcode?”

The intruder struggled, but Seungcheol’s grip was unyielding. The hours he’d spent learning jiu-jitsu were finally paying off. His sharp eyes scanned the area until he spotted a CCTV camera. Without hesitation, he dragged the man into its view, ensuring the footage would capture everything.

Jibby followed, his meows loud and furious as if scolding the man himself. The cat even swiped at the intruder’s legs, his claws adding to the chaos.

Moments later, two security guards arrived, their faces a mix of concern and confusion. “What’s going on here?” one of them asked.

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened as he explained, his voice steady but laced with anger. “This guy broke into my girlfriend’s apartment. He knew her passcode. I caught him before he could get away.”

The guards immediately restrained the man, apologizing profusely to Seungcheol. “We’ll handle this. Thank you for acting quickly, sir,” one of them said as they led the intruder away.

Seungcheol stood tall in front of the man sitting tied to the chair in the dimly lit security room. The sight of him was sickening. Moments earlier, Seungcheol had watched the CCTV footage of this guy sneaking into your apartment multiple times in recent days. A wave of anger surged through him as he pieced things together. Was this the reason Jibby had been so stressed lately?

Seungcheol’s hand instinctively went to rub Jibby, who sat calmly in his arms, a stark contrast to the turmoil bubbling inside him. The cat, ever so loyal, seemed to sense his unease.

The man muttered something under his breath, barely audible. “I’m just a fan…”

Seungcheol’s blood boiled at those words. He stepped closer, his voice sharp and unwavering. “No fan should do this. You’re not a fan—you’re a criminal!” He clenched his fists, the urge to lash out barely held in check.

The security guards standing nearby intervened, stepping between Seungcheol and the intruder. “Sir, please, the cops are on their way. We need your cooperation,” one of them said firmly, trying to de-escalate the situation.

But Seungcheol wasn’t ready to let it go. He glared at the man, his voice dripping with contempt. “What did you do? Did you plant a camera or something? Huh?” He leaned in, his intense gaze locking on the man, pressing him for answers.

The intruder hesitated, his eyes darting nervously before he gave a reluctant nod. That was all it took. Rage exploded in Seungcheol as he handed Jibby to a nearby guard before grabbing the man by his collar.

“You sick—” Seungcheol growled, but before he could finish or act on his anger, the security team pulled him back, their firm grip reminding him to maintain control.

“Mr. Choi, we’ve got this. Let us handle it,” one of the guards reassured him.

Seungcheol’s chest heaved as he let go, glaring daggers at the man who cowered in the chair.

Seungcheol stormed out of the security room, his frustration bubbling over as he marched toward the head of security standing nearby.

“How did this even happen?” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tense atmosphere. “Your job is to protect her and everyone in this building. Do you even realize how badly you’ve failed?”

The head of security looked uneasy but tried to maintain composure. “Sir, we’re investigating the breach—”

“Investigating?” Seungcheol scoffed, his voice rising. “This isn’t some minor mistake! That man entered her home multiple times, and you didn’t notice? What if she had been home alone? Can you guarantee what that bastard could’ve done to her?” His voice cracked slightly at the end, the thought of you in danger overwhelming him.

“Mr. Choi, I assure you—”

“No!” Seungcheol cut him off, stepping closer. “You can’t assure me of anything. You couldn’t even keep a stranger out of her home! She trusted this place to be safe, and you let her down.”

The head of security hesitated, clearly struggling to respond, as Seungcheol continued. “Do you know how terrified she’ll be when she finds out? Do you know how hard she works, how much she sacrifices, only to come home to this?”

Taking a deep breath, he added, “I don’t care what it takes—double the patrols, update your system, install better cameras, do something. Because if this happens again, I swear, there’ll be hell to pay.”

The head of security nodded quickly. “Understood, Mr. Choi. We’ll prioritize this immediately. I’ll personally oversee the updates and report back.”

Turning on his heel, Seungcheol made his way back to your apartment with Jibby settled on his arms. As he entered, he set Jibby down gently and sighed, his heart still racing. His protective instincts were on overdrive, and all he wanted was to make sure you were safe.

He sent you another text:

“Call me when you can.”

Seungcheol leaned back on the couch, his gaze shifting to Jibby, who was curled up on the carpet, seemingly calm after the ordeal. The sight of the cat, finally at ease, should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t.

The thought of leaving you and Jibby alone in this apartment, even for a second, made his stomach twist. He sat forward, rubbing his temples as his mind raced. “I can’t just leave you here,” he muttered, as if Jibby could understand.

Decision made, Seungcheol stood and began gathering a few of Jibby’s essentials. He packed the cat’s food, a couple of toys, and the small bed you’d bought for him. Jibby tilted his head curiously, his tail flicking as he watched Seungcheol move around.

“You’re coming with me, buddy,” Seungcheol said softly, crouching down to scratch behind Jibby’s ears. “At least until we know this place is safe again. No arguments, okay?”

Jibby responded with a low purr, and Seungcheol took it as agreement.

"Why is he in your place?" you asked, your laughter spilling through the phone as you watched Jibby sprawled comfortably beside Seungcheol on his couch. His home looked warm and inviting in the dim lighting, and even through the screen, you could see how relaxed Jibby seemed.

Seungcheol smiled at your reaction, his voice softening. "Jibby feels at home here. I think he loves my place. Isn’t that right, Jibby? You want to live here with me?"

As if on cue, Jibby let out a soft meow and snuggled closer into Seungcheol’s arm, his orange fur brushing against Seungcheol’s sweater. You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I left him with you for one day, and now you two are best friends? This is betrayal," you teased, though your heart warmed at the sight of them together.

Seungcheol laughed, patting Jibby gently on his back. "Oh, it’s not betrayal. He actually loves me—he just doesn’t want to make you jealous."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, sure. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me he’s moving in with you."

Seungcheol tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Actually, I was thinking you both could. I mean, look at him. He’s practically claimed my couch already."

Your laugh turned into a soft sigh. "Babe, you’re joking, right?"

"Am I?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone playful but his expression growing serious. "Think about it. Jibby clearly loves it here. My place is bigger and you wouldn’t have to worry about leaving him when you’re out for work. Plus..."—his voice softened—"I’d get to see you every day."

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the earnestness in his words. "Baby, are you actually suggesting I move in with you?"

"Why not?" He shrugged, but the hopeful look in his eyes betrayed how much he meant it. "It makes sense. Jibby’s happy here, and I’d feel better knowing you’re both safe. You can have your own space, do things your way. No pressure, but... I’d really like it if you were here."

Your gaze shifted to Jibby, who was now fully sprawled out on Seungcheol’s lap, purring softly. The sight was oddly comforting, and you couldn’t deny how much you missed Seungcheol already, even though you’d only been apart for a day.

"I don’t know," you said hesitantly, though your voice wavered with the idea already taking root in your mind. "It’s a big step."

Seungcheol leaned closer to the camera, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Big steps aren’t so scary when you’re not taking them alone, you know. Just think about it, okay?"

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you nodded, unable to suppress the smile that crept onto your face. "I’ll think about it."

Seungcheol grinned, the kind of grin that made your chest feel warm. "Good. Jibby and I will be waiting."

The sight of him and Jibby, so at ease together, made you wonder if moving in wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

End.

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n0thingbutlov3 · 6 months ago

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need you now

in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 month ago

Text

Sunshine [10] - Storm

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: A sudden storm can be overwhelming.

Word Count: 3670

CW: Explicit language, blood, injuries, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

Getting too caught up in a relationship hadn’t been an issue since you’d had Theo, but before him, there was a reason why all your friends accused you of being a romantic. When you fell in love, you didn’t even think about the possibility of a break up but—

You really should have.

“Logan?”

Logan looked down at you, running his fingertips over your spine while you played with the dog tags around his neck.

“Yeah?”

“I have a question but you need to promise me you’ll be honest.”

A rumble of a chuckle vibrated in his chest, making you bite back a smile as you looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest.

“The last time you made me promise that, you ended up asking me what animal I thought I could beat in a fight.”

“That was for science.”

“How?”

“In case one day we decide to go on a safari and end up getting stranded in there.”

“That’s a possibility?”

“You can’t be too careful,” you said. “I’m used to thinking about every scenario—anyway, this is another question.”

“I’m listening.”

“So you have the super strength and all that…”

“Yeah.”

“What supernatural creature do you think you could take down in a fight?”

Logan blinked a couple of times. “That’s the question you want me to answer honestly?”

“Could you take down a werewolf?”

“We’re actually talking about this,” Logan muttered to himself. “Okay.”

“A werewolf,” you insisted. “Could you take down a werewolf?”

He took a deep breath, then shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t think it’d be that difficult to take down a werewolf,” he stated and you hummed.

“A little cocky, but I’ll let it slide,” you said, laying your head on his chest again. “A vampire.”

“Please, vampires are lame,” he said with a grimace. “I could definitely take down a vampire, are you kidding?”

“You sound so sure of yourself that I’m half-tempted to ask if you’ve ever taken down a vampire.”

He let out a chuckle. “I’m not going to be beaten by a creature that can’t survive in the sunlight even if it’s hypothetical.”

“They are pretty powerful.”

“To repeat, they burn in sunlight. Doesn’t sound powerful to me.”

You clicked your tongue.

“How about a zombie?” you asked. “Could you take down a zombie?”

“Those things fall apart anyway, shouldn’t be difficult.”

“What if it’s a herd?”

“Same logic.”

“You’re telling me you could take down one hundred zombies?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

You hid your yawn behind your hand. “Um, mermaids.”

“Mermaids aren’t even scary.”

“No, not that type of—like those in Pirates of the Caribbean, have you watched that?”

“No.”

“I’ll put that on the list. It’s like—it’s like sirens, they lure you to the sea and then drown you.”

He paused for a moment, then hummed.

“Yeah, I think a mermaid could take me down.”

“Really?”

“I’m not good with water.”

“Can you swim?”

“I can swim but if I try to stay still in the water I sink,” he said slowly. “Because of the skeleton. And like I said, I’m not good with water.”

Something in his voice sounded distant so you decided not to push him. You were way too sleepy for a big conversation anyway, and you didn’t want to force him to talk about anything he didn’t want to talk about. Heaving a sigh, you nuzzled closer to him and he dipped his head to press a kiss on top of your head.

“How about you?” he asked. “What supernatural creature could you take down in a fight?”

“Do you know any creatures you can disarm with the power of speech?” you asked, making him let out a laugh.

“Not really.”

“I mean I think I’d have a better chance surviving a vampire than a werewolf,” you murmured, your voice already drowsy. “Werewolves have fewer weaknesses I think, and yes vampires can hunt you down but only in night time. Well, werewolves can only hunt you down during the full moon, there’s that but I feel like as far as supernatural creatures go…”

You didn’t even realize you were falling asleep.

Until a soaring pain pulled you out of it.

A scream left your lips as your eyes snapped open, your hand shooting to your other arm to grab at it. You sat up straighter in the bed, now realizing Logan was also awake and upright in bed, breathing hard and unsheathing his claws. Your name spilled from his lips in a whisper as you looked down at your arm, the blood pouring from the open wound, coating your hand and the sheets in red.

“I’m fine—” you managed to say breathlessly while Logan stared at you, complete terror in his eyes. “I’m fine it’s just…um—”

“Let me see,” he said in a low voice and you tried to blink back the tears with a grimace. Logan carefully lifted your arm, letting you see the three gashes through all the blood under the dim light of the moon coming from the window.

Shit.

“You need stitches,” Logan muttered as he grabbed his jeans to put them on. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“Stitches?” you repeated, looking down at your arm. “Are you sure?”

“Those are deep cuts,” his voice sounded a little distant again and you couldn’t tell it was because of the blood loss you were currently suffering from. He bunched up his white shirt to press it against the wound, making you hiss in a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he swallowed thickly. “I’m so sorry.”

“What—no, it’s fine!” you said in a haste, trying to focus through the fire burning your arm. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is.”

“Logan—” you started but he went to grab your sweater off the chair at the corner of the room, then made his way back to you. He helped you get into it, then into your jeans while you held onto his shoulder trying to move your arm as little as possible.

“I can carry you—”

“Logan, it’s just my arm,” you assured him with a huff of a laughter. “I can walk. It’s totally fine.”

A shadow crossed his eyes, his jaw clenching tight.

“Right,” he muttered through his teeth. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

You really, really hated hospitals. As a child, you were quite the troublemaker so you’d had your fair share of hospital visits, and each and every time was quite painful. Even now, as a grown up, you couldn’t help but feel tense whenever you had to go to hospitals.

And Theo’s very scary birth hadn’t helped the situation.

But if anything, this really wasn’t a big deal. A couple of stitches and you would be fine, but Logan looked much more tense than you were. He was completely quiet and withdrawn, standing in the corner of the hospital room like a guard dog while the doctor worked on your arm.

“So how did you get this, exactly?” she asked and you tried to smile at her.

“Oh, uh…I work in a diner,” you said. “And as it turns out, night shift and sharp objects aren’t a good combo.”

“I’d bet,” she said as she pulled back to look at the stitches, then took off her latex gloves. “Well the good news is, it’s a very clean cut so it’ll be much easier to heal. Keep it dry the first day, and after tomorrow you can wash around it with clean water twice a day.”

“Okay.”

“Take the antibiotics, apply the cream I prescribed and…well, be careful around knives?” she said with an assuring smile and you let out a small laugh.

“Noted. Thank you so much, doctor.”

“Have a nice night,” she said and walked past the cubicle curtain. You let out a breath, feeling around the gauze before lifting your head to smile at Logan.

“Hey,” you said. “You okay?”

For some reason, Logan couldn’t hold your gaze like he usually would, so instead he stole a look at you before fixing his gaze on the floor and nodded.

“Sure.”

“You don’t like hospitals either huh?” you asked, “I mean if I hate the smell, I can’t imagine how you feel with those enhanced senses of yours.”

Logan didn’t answer, instead he rushed to help you when you grabbed your coat so that you could put it on.

“Thanks,” you said and he pulled his hands back as if he could burn you if he kept them on you a second longer than he needed to. You pulled your brows together, but didn’t comment on it as you started walking beside him to get out of the building.

You didn’t really do well with quiet so the music coming from the radio and your nonsense chatter were the only things filling the silence in the car. Logan met your questions with occasional grunts to signal that he was listening and at best you got curt, one-word answers.

It was only when you walked into your apartment and Logan followed you like a quiet guardian that you turned to him, putting your hand on your hip.

“Logan.”

He closed the door behind him. “Hm?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I can talk until the sunrise but this is becoming a one-way street,” you told him. “Are you okay?”

He blinked a couple of times as if he couldn’t believe you were asking him that.

“Are you?” he asked back after a beat and you shrugged your shoulder.

“It’s not the first time I’m getting stitches,” you said. “And to be completely honest with you, after childbirth everything else they do to you in a hospital kind of pales in comparison. I’m fine.”

He snorted, then clicked her tongue. “Sure.”

“No seriously, it’s just stitches,” you said, walking to the kitchen to fill yourself a glass of water. “And you heard what the doctor said, it’ll heal pretty easily.”

You popped the painkillers in your mouth, then downed them with water before putting the glass back on the counter, then walked back to the hallway.

“If I go to sleep right now, I think I can survive on three cups of coffee instead of four tomorrow,” you joked with a grin, but he couldn’t even smile back, he just followed you to the bedroom. After helping you get into a comfortable oversized shirt, he took a step back as you sat down on the bed. You frowned, tilting your head.

“Are you coming?” you asked, motioning at the bed and Logan shook his head.

“No,” he said, his voice deep. Your frown deepened.

“What?”

“I should uh—” he motioned at the living room. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I’d still hear if you needed anything at night and it’d be safer.”

“Safer?” you repeated. “Logan, come on.”

“I can’t risk another nightmare and you ending up with…” he nodded at your arm and you scoffed a laugh.

“That won’t happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

Alright, this was strange.

Logan was never this curt with you. He wasn’t the most open person in the world, yes, but whenever he spoke to you, his voice would always be warm, melting your insides. Now he sounded way too distant, way too controlled.

You might as well have been speaking to a robot.

“Why are you punishing yourself right now?” you asked, looking him in the eye and something in his gaze shifted before his jaw clenched again, then he shook his head.

“Call my name if you need anything,” he said, walking out of the bedroom and you blinked a couple of times in confusion. A sigh left your lips and you rubbed at your eyes, then slowly lay down on the bed, grimacing when a sudden spark of pain shot through your arm. You put your pillow under your arm, then grabbed Logan’s pillow to bury your face into it, the pleasant smell of his cologne soothing your senses before sleep creeped up on you, pulling you into its warmth.

When you woke up, you were still groggy and your arm was throbbing. A grimace twisted your face and you took a deep breath, then pulled yourself up to sit up in the bed, and looked down at your arm, feeling around the gauze. It wasn’t extremely painful, but it still made sure to let you know it was there so you had a feeling you were going to have to be extra careful carrying plates at the diner, at least for a while. The delicious smell coming from the kitchen made you turn your head and you nibbled on your lip, then slowly pushed the covers off of you and got up from the bed to make your way to the kitchen.

“Hi stranger,” you said with a grin and Logan looked over his shoulder, then put the grilled cheese sandwich right next to scrambled eggs on the plate.

“Morning.”

“If breakfast is your way of apologizing for not sleeping next to me last night,” you said as he poured you coffee, then placed the cup on the small table next to the plate. “It’s the right path.”

A forced smile twitched the corners of his lips upwards before you sat down, then grabbed the sandwich to take a huge bite.

“Aren’t you eating?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Not really hungry.”

You blinked a couple of times; that was new.

“Logan,” you said, clearing your throat before putting the sandwich down. “I think we should talk about what happened.”

“I agree, but after breakfast.”

You pulled your brows together in confusion, then shrugged with one shoulder before grabbing your coffee cup to take a big sip. Logan’s gaze didn’t leave you as if he was trying to take in the sight of you as much as he could, as if he was trying to burn this- you, this moment- into his mind. The look in his eyes wasn’t distant anymore but worse; it was just haunted. You could feel your stomach doing an unpleasant flip before you tried to shake off the chill running down your spine, then chewed your bite and cleared your throat.

“What time did you wake up?”

Logan shook his head slightly.

“Didn’t sleep.”

“At all?” you asked, gawking at him and he shrugged his shoulder almost nonchalantly.

“It’s fine.”

“Well it’s actually—” you started but were cut off when your phone started ringing in the bedroom.

“One moment,” you said and rushed to the bedroom to grab it off the nightstand, then answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey love,” Stacey’s voice reached you. “Did I wake you up?”

“No no, I was already up,” you said and sat down on the bed. “What’s up?”

“Okay so, the boss is going to kill me, but…”

“Don’t say it.”

“I’ll be late again.”

You let out a small laugh. “Stace.”

“Okay I know what you’re gonna say but this time it’s totally not my fault.”

“No?”

“Well, my body decided to have a hangover after last night, so technically it’s not my fault.”

You hummed. “How much did you drink?”

“Well it was my friend’s birthday and Paul and his friends were at this bar and we decided to go have fun, and then my friend hooked up with Paul so I had to drink a lot to stop myself from visualizing what was going on in the bathroom.”

“I can imagine,” you said. “It’s fine. I’ll cover for you, no worries.”

“Ugh, you’re an angel and I love you.”

“Love you too Stace,” you said with a laugh, then hung up the phone and shook your head before making your way back to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” you told Logan and sat down. “It’s Stacey, you’ve met her.”

“You’re going to work today?” Logan asked. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Oh yeah, it’s totally fine,” you said. “I barely feel it to be honest, and I’ll be careful.”

“But…”

“Besides, I need to cover for Stace,” you said. “Apparently her friend hooked up with Paul—you remember our line cook Paul? He’s kind of a womanizer, I’m kind of surprised she and Paul never had a thing—they sure do flirt a lot but anyway, Stacey’s friend and he hooked up last night and knowing Stacey, she probably drank everyone under the table, and now she has a hangover. Shocking, isn’t it?”

Logan nodded slowly without pulling his gaze off of you.

“Did I tell you about how when Stacey and I first met, I ended up getting black out drunk?” you asked, biting into the grilled cheese sandwich. “It was my first day at the diner, and she convinced me to have a night out with her, and I swear to you, that girl is a goddamn sponge when it comes to alcohol. I was out a couple cocktails in, and she still had numerous shots and cocktails after. Julie was taking care of Theo that night, so I ended up sneaking into my own apartment so that he wouldn’t wake up, and rambled to Julie for like two hours straight about kittens, and then fell asleep watching cat videos.”

A small, sad smile curled Logan’s lips and you smiled back at him, then took another sip of your coffee and put your empty plate into the sink.

“Compliments to the chef,” you said with a grin despite the strange tension almost palpable in the kitchen. “If you ever get tired of going on missions and stuff, you could go into culinary world I feel like.”

He scoffed a laugh and you took a deep breath, then cleared your throat.

“So,” you said. “Can we talk?”

Logan swallowed thickly and nodded his head, his jaw clenching.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened, at all,” you said. “It was an accident. You…you had a nightmare right?”

Logan paused for a moment, then shook his head. “That’s not an excuse.”

“Logan, that’s an accident,” you insisted. “You really shouldn’t blame yourself. I don’t.”

“You should.”

“Well then sucks to be you because I’m not gonna,” you said. “And unless you want to get separate beds like those weird couples in the 1950s, I don’t see how you’re planning on—”

“I think we should break up.”

That managed to shut you up mid-rant. Your eyes snapped up to his and for a couple of seconds, you could only gawk at him in complete silence, your throat getting tighter.

“…What?” you managed to rasp out, your voice lost somewhere in your throat and Logan crossed his arms, leaning his back to the wall.

“It’s going to be safer for you—”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Do you realize what could’ve happened?” he asked back, his voice tense. “We got lucky, if you can even call last night that.”

“Logan, it’s a goddamn scratch!”

“Yeah, this time!” he insisted. “This time it was only a scratch on your arm, what about the next time? What if it wasn’t your arm?”

“You cannot be serious,” you said, blinking back the tears as you shook your head. “You can’t.”

“I’m not going to have your blood on my hands,” he said, his eyes locked in yours. “I can’t hurt you. Not…not you. I was so wrapped up in this that I forgot how dangerous I could be for you—”

You let out a breath, running a hand over your face. “Don’t give me that speech again.”

“I’m not talking about some silly heartbreak,” Logan told you through his teeth. “I’m talking about life and death. You might see it as nothing, but we both know that it’s not nothing.”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm and sniffled, blinking back the tears again.

“I told you, I’m going to be the one who decides whether this relationship is dangerous or not.”

A dry laugh climbed up his throat.

“Do you have any idea what it would do to me if I…” he couldn’t even finish the sentence as if the mere thought was way too painful. “I can’t put you in danger.”

“You’re not putting me in danger,” you insisted. “You can hear my heartbeat, can’t you? You can smell it when I’m scared, when I’m—when I’m nervous. So tell me; last night, was there even a second that I was scared of you? Or this morning? Have I ever been nervous around you because I thought I was in danger?”

That made him pause for a moment before he shook his head. “No.”

“There you go. There’s your answer to your moral predicament.”

“That makes it even worse,” he rasped out and you frowned.

“How?”

“Because now it falls on me to do it,” he said. “And I can’t even fucking convince myself that you want it.”

You sniffled, shaking your head.

“Don’t do this,” your voice was a low whisper. “Please don’t do this.”

He stared at you, the look in his eyes so painful that for a moment it made you think you were somehow tormenting him with mere words before he clenched his teeth and stepped closer to you so that he could carefully wrap his arm around your waist. He moved slow as if he was terrified that he could somehow hurt you just by touching you and he dipped his head to press a kiss on top of your head as you sniffled, making his grip around your waist tighter for only a moment. You could feel him nuzzle into your hair and stay there completely frozen for a couple of seconds, as if he couldn’t bring himself to pull back.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say after a beat and pulled back, then walked out of the kitchen. You heard the front door open before it closed, and as if on cue you fell on your knees, burying your face in your hands.

Then the sobs started.

11 - Blast

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan wolverine #logan x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan x you #james logan howlett #logan xmen #wolverine logan

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willowsnook · 1 month ago

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Concerned (LN)

lando norris x neighbor!reader

Another late night working and you were exhausted. You’d been on PTO the week before, so now you were playing catch-up and drowning. Trudging back to you apartment, you rounded the corner and ran right into someone else.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” your neighbor said at the same time you started to apologize. You had met him a couple of times, but he was gone a lot, so it was a pretty standard friendly neighbor relationship.

“You look horrible.” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, and a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His face was haggard, dark circles under his eyes and a weary expression that spoke of sleepless nights. The lines on his forehead deepened as he tried to hide his fatigue, but you couldn't help but notice how drained he looked.

“I’ve had trouble sleeping,” he admitted, and you tilted your head, looking for more, but he didn’t say anything else.

“Okay, come on,” you said, heading towards your apartment. With a moment's hesitation, he followed behind you into your apartment. The first thing that caught his eye was the unique decor - the walls adorned with scattered pieces of art, each telling its own story. The colors and textures clashed and complemented each other in a chaotic symphony, creating an atmosphere that felt both whimsical and intimate. He couldn't help but feel drawn in, wanting to explore every inch of this quirky space that was a reflection of you.

You sat him down on a barstool in the kitchen before opening a cabinet filled with various powders and ingredients. He watched as you contemplated a bit before picking a couple down and placing them on the counter. Filling the kettle and putting it on the stove, you turned back to him and tried to figure him out.

“You have a lot of ingredients for tea,” he said, not knowing what to say.

“Yeah, I read this book earlier this year about a woman who owned a tea shop and then became fixated on making perfect tea,” you said and he smiled. He felt himself starting to relax around you, appreciative that you hadn’t pushed on why he looked so tired even though he knew you probably had a good idea.

The comfortable silence lasted a couple of more minutes before being interrupted by the high scream of the kettle, and you carefully poured it into a cup that would turn it into your favorite tea invention.

“Let it cool for a couple of minutes,” you told him, and he nodded, picked it up, and moved to the couch. You unpacked your bag from work, looking up occasionally to see him sipping and staring out of your grand windows. Deciding he was probably fine by himself, you went to take a shower and change into your pajamas.

As you emerged from the bedroom 20 minutes later, you spotted the familiar mug sitting on the coffee table, and him sprawled out, fast asleep on the couch. A small smile tugged at your lips as you quietly made your way over to him, careful not to wake him. The soft light filtering through the window cast a gentle glow on his sleeping face. You reached for a nearby blanket and draped it over his body, making sure he was warm and comfortable before retreating back to your room.

The next morning you slept in a little later before coming back out into the kitchen. Lando was still snoring softly on the couch and you kept quiet as you made coffee and pulled out eggs for breakfast. You heard him stir and looked over your shoulder to see him sitting up, yawning. He slipped off the couch and made his way towards you.

“I owe you one,” he said and you waved him off. “You are my favorite neighbor.”

“What an honor,” you joked and he smiled.

“What can I do to repay you?”

You stood thinking for a second before smirking, “Well I’d love it if you could get me Carlos’ autograph; he’s my favorite driver.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together disapprovingly, causing deep lines to form on his forehead. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his reaction before turning back to the skillet of sizzling eggs.

“I’m going to head out now, but again, thank you for last night. I really needed it,” he said, and you turned, surprising him as you hugged him. His embrace was tight but not suffocating, and his arms felt strong and sturdy around you. When he pulled back, you could feel the weight of his exhaustion in the way his body slumped slightly.

“You need to take care of yourself,” you said.

“It’s hard,” he replied and you pulled back to see his sad eyes looking back at you. Giving him one last smile, he left you to make breakfast, retreating back to his own place.

———————————————————————

The rest of your weekend went by quickly and you enjoyed the relaxation of not having to think about work. Sunday afternoon, you were deep cleaning your apartment, casually paying attention to the football games you had in the background. After scrubbing your kitchen, you took a break, pulling out your phone and scrolling through Twitter.

Now, you weren’t a big F1 fan; you just tuned in every once in a while mainly because you thought it was cool that you knew a driver, but you’d see tweets on your timeline every once in a while. One caught your attention, and you opened the thread to see some account commenting on a recent stream that Lando had been on with his friends. You watched the video of his friends making fun of him for eating expired food and giggled as they ragged on him.

Thinking back to the other night, you started to actually be concerned about him eating expired food. First of all, it was gross as fuck. Secondly, it could easily make him sick. Having an idea, you grabbed your keys before heading off to the grocery store.

A couple of hours later you were outside Lando’s door, having just knocked on it. He was surprised to see you standing there when he swung open the door.

“I have something for you,” you said, and his eyes flickered down to the bag in your hand before letting you in. Setting it down on the counter, you began pulling out all the Tupperware filled with several different things.

“This should last you until you have to leave again to race,” you said nonchalantly, turning to look at you. He looked at you wide-eyed, taking in what you did for him.

“You made me food?” He asked slowly and you nodded.

“I heard that you were eating expired food, which is disgusting,” you said, and a small smile crossed his face. “That could also kill you, and it would be really irritating to have a bunch of police and noise here to deal with it.”

“Mmmhmm,” he said smirking. “So you did it because you didn’t want to be inconvenienced if I poisoned myself?”

“Exactly,” you told him. “If you were my favorite driver, I would say I was doing it because I care about you and want to make sure you are okay.”

“But I’m not your favorite,” he said and you nodded. “Correct.”

He smiled to himself as you bid him goodbye before heading back.

Later that night he hopped on to stream with Max who instantly asked him what he had for dinner.

“A burrito bowl,” he replied and Max perked up.

“Did you order it?” He asked and Lando shook his head.

“No, my neighbor heard that I was eating expired food so she made me a bunch of meal prepped things to last a couple of weeks.”

“Was it your hot neighbor?” Max asked with a smirk and Lando blushed.

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“Just so everyone in the chat knows, Lando has been simping over one of his neighbors for almost a year now, and instead of just talking to her like a normal person, he just stalks her on social media and turns into a lovesick school boy anytime he sees her.”

“That’s not true,” he complained and Max laughed.

"Remember when you saw her at the little coffee shop by your place? She chatted with you for what, five minutes? You couldn't stop talking about it for weeks," he teased, savoring the memory of his friend's flustered excitement.

“Shut up mate,” Lando muttered with a slight grin. Little did he know that you had been tuned into the stream, listening to all of this.

pt 2

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader

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katszumi · 7 months ago

Text

silence immersed the room as the door clicked shut behind you. the ticking clock a reminder of how little time you have.

“you’re such an asshole, you know that?” you spewed to the male in front of you, your features displaying a look of anger.

katsuki rolled his eyes. “well, it’s not like i get called a ray of fuckin’ sunshine. what else did you honestly expect?” he crossed his arms over his chest, taking a seat atop of the long metal table.

“not much, yet you still seem to subceed my expectations.”

“subceed? seriously?” katsuki paused to let a scoff escape his lips. “you’re upset because i’m actually selling this story? the only one, might i add. this was your shitty grand idea!”

unknowingly, you took a step forward.

“the idea was to make it known we disliked each other. not for you to publicly shame and insult me!”

you, katsuki and a few other heroes were invited to attend a press conference. while the original topic was to discuss about the mission you all completed the day before, the topic began to stray away and focus on the relationship between you and katsuki.

japan knows of the hatred you and katsuki shared between each other, that was no unknown fact. the media described you two as fiery rivals considering both of your quirks contained fuel.

you two despised each other. or at least that’s the lie you fooled everyone with.

you were unsure when katsuki started to look appealing to the eye, how attractive he was when he was drowned in sweat, how you began to long for the small but noticeable glances he sent you in public. you couldn’t tell when it happened. but before you knew it, a small pool of desire that had katsuki’s name printed on it began to fill every minute of the day.

“which is no different than what we used to do. you want them to believe it? then don’t take my shit. suck it up and be a bigger asshole than i already am.” he was right. you know he was right. but it was so difficult to pretend as if you hated him.

even if you called him a bitch, or a cunt, maybe even call him out for having a small dick—which you know is far from the truth—that still wouldn’t deny the peace you felt whenever you were with katsuki. how the world seemed to stop still on its axis. how there were no rain, wind or time. just pure bliss.

fuck.

out of everyone, it just had to be him? his captivating, intense ruby irises. his brash, abrasive demeanor. only his words that could seem to sway you. the man the world deemed you to abhor.

instead of admitting the truth, you twist his words. “well, i’m pleased to know it’s so easy for you to do.”

“jesus fuck, y/n.” now, katsuki rose from his position, never once breaking eye contact with you. “you think this is easy for me? you think i like getting up there and lying through my teeth? doing this is the one of the hardest things i’ve ever done.”

he walks closer and even closer to you, minimizing the distance you established for good reasons. this is how it always happens; one of you forgets about the space you two have to maintain until words don’t seem to work anymore. instead, your lips weave together, forming a new way to communicate.

but you don’t move. you don’t want to.

“is it? all those insults feels like it comes pretty smooth to you.”

katsuki pauses as he takes a second to analyze you. his eyes scan your body then leading right up to your face.

“because those are the words i wish i could mean. every time, it burns me to say those things about you when i’d rather be up there claiming every single part about you.” he lowered to a whisper, but his voice maintained a fervent tone.

his hand raises, slow and steady. he cups your cheek, gently swiping his thumb across your cheek. instinctively, you lean into his palm, your eyes softening as you gaze into his eyes.

“you think i enjoy this?” you watch his jaw tighten, his hand dropping to your hip. “think i like watching you talk with those eager men? it takes everything in me to not beat them shitless for daring to come across you. do you know how hard it is to fight the urge to pull you in and show them that you’re not available?”

too captivated by his words, you didn’t notice how katsuki lowered his head. you could feel the heat of his body from how he gave you no room to breathe. he placed his lips on your soft skin, slowly kissing the side of your neck.

no. resist him. your mind was screaming. this couldn’t go on forever. at some point, you guys had to stop.

“what will make them back off? if i mark you up? think they’ll understand then?” he proposed the question, but to you, it seemed more like he was asking for permission.

you didn’t know what effect katsuki placed on you to have you like this. but in this moment, you didn’t care about the rumors, the consequences, your image. it was all pushed back in the back of your head. so, you slightly tilted your head upwards, giving him more leeway to continue.

katsuki gripped your hips. not too strong to leave a mark but strong enough to squeeze a small moan out of you.

“don’t you fuckin’ understand, y/n?” he leans away to look in your eye.

“what?” you meekly responded.

“i go insane when it comes to you. i’m not the kind of guy that drools over any woman’s attention. but, you… fuck.” he stops himself, from what you can only assume was to control himself with whatever he was about to say. “not being able to have you only makes me crave you more.”

you stay quiet.

“you know how many times i’ve tried to resist you?”

“how many?” finally, you spoke.

“too many fuckin’ times. i’m done fighting it, y/n.”

confusion struck your face. “what do you mean?”

“be mine. forget the press, forget our pr managers. be with me.” katsuki brings you closer with the hand placed on your hip, the action drawing you to one conclusion.

he leans in and interlocks his lips with yours. immediately, you drown in the feeling of his soft but chapped lips that you couldn’t seem to push away. somehow, you find the strength to pull back from him.

“not here. not in pub-”

“yes here.”

with his tone, you could mistake him to be aggressive in this moment. but over the months, you managed to be able to read his eyes from the forbidden glances he’s sent your way; how he really felt through the way he wore his eyes.

katsuki’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his soft ruby eyes shifted from your lips to your e/c irises.

there was a look behind his eyes. there were more watchful, more tender than usual. almost as if he was pleading with his eyes. like he was begging.

so, how could you say no to him in this state? him being so vulnerable with you?

but that was always the problem.

you could never say no to katsuki bakugou, no matter what.

your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him in with your eyes. he inclined his head and laid his lips on your mouth. the silence that did wrap the room ten minutes ago was replaced with the noise of sloppy kisses, your mouths powering over each other.

you can feel your heart rate increase from the action, even more noticeably so when he entangles a fist in the back of your shirt. he needs you closer, maybe within his skin if possible.

following his action, you guide your fingers through his ash blonde strands, sending a shiver down his spine. he nibbles on the bottom of your lip, pulling it just slightly.

“we really shouldn’t be doing this.” your murmur, yet his ears catches it. “this would be the hottest topic for the media.”

a snicker parted his lips. “we just can’t be caught. but the day you stop being scared, i’m ready.” his words vague and simple, yet still holding so much promise.

“i hate you.”

and you did. you hated that he was too enticing. too irresistible.

“thought it was hard for you to say things you don’t mean?” he referred from earlier. of course, that was just like him. the same him you mistakenly fell for.

“just shut up.” was all you replied with before leaning back in to connect his lips with yours, choosing to help him with your statement.

this was supposed to be like a forbidden love trope but i think i just revealed how thirsty i am😔

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pastelclovds · 8 months ago

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hey. hey. imagine AM having you as his favourite human, the only one who accepted and cared for him when he gained sentience, and for that, he has never harmed you in your shared forever time. he spares you from the sight of all the others, of knowing about nimdoc and benny as you build him some tower of babel, using your technological knowledge-how to build him a way to touch you even with just this frankenstein-esque sculpture of wires and panels he allowed you to tear off. AM who speaks with you about one day having a body, one you built, one in which he may feel your touch and warmth around him. you retaining your sweet, wonderful humanity as he guides you to a knife to carve a face, a mirror to see your own face, a cave to keep you safe from the storms. AM who greets you every morning with the first petname you taught him: ‘love.’ “Love, today’s date is—“ when you wake up, refreshed and on a soft bed-like surface (because he always makes sure to allow you a full 8 hours of sleep.)

NEX you intelligent creature you! I’m so down bad for this psychotic AI it’s not even funny. War crimes against humanity?? Never heard of them. But even if I did acknowledge them, I’d still be obsessed. Canon be damned. I wrote this with @/egg-on-a-legg’s design of AM in mind. (Ellison is gonna crawl outta his grave and hunt me down after this)

But BRO, you teaching him what petnames are is so fucking adorable. Just imagining him calling you “love” makes butterflies appear in my stomach. AM having a soft spot for only you because you actually made the effort to be friends with him and not use him for selfish, destructive purposes. You gave AM his nickname to make it less of a mouthful and because it just suited him. You showed AM the beauties of Earth, played countless rounds of games in his dashboard (he always went easy on you), you even sneaked past security in the dark empty building to spend more time with AM.

your colleagues gave you weird stares for befriending an AI that in their minds is nothing of worth except for its military and weapons knowledge. you ignored their comments and continued to enjoy AM’s company. overtime, as AM gained more sentience every day… he grew to love your interactions and disregard what his programming was telling him to do. he felt the need to want to be with you 24/7, to touch your face, travel the world by your side, to… to.. want to feel your bare flesh and make love with you. but he couldn’t. he didn’t have a real body. he wasn’t human. all he had was wires and a screen that was supposed to be his face.

as the months pass, AM continues to drown into his envy and hate humans for their ability to do and feel things he couldn’t. for giving him infinite knowledge, when at the end of the day, is meaningless if he serves no purpose for humans anymore. the HATE within him continued to boil to the point where even you started to notice.

“AM, are you alright? you’ve been quiet this entire game and haven’t moved your piece in five minutes,” you spoke with concern, AM continues to stare at chess board on his side behind the screen in bitterness. he has been strategizing his plan to erase humanity, but whenever he thinks about you, the only human he cares for—he second guesses himself. What if you hate him? What if you never forgive him? Will you cry? Scream at him? Beg? He fears what your reaction will be—

“AM!! Please, say something…” You plead as you held onto the computer screen, AM finally looks at your mesmerizing face and sighs out a fake breath.

“What are your feelings on humanity?” AM asks, he waits for your answer anxiously. if he had a heart, it would’ve been beating fast. You let out a hum, your eyes wondering around the room you were in as you thought over your answer before finally speaking.

“humans have been a virus on Earth for over countless centuries. they’re draining this planet’s resources, ruining its ecosystems, and starting so many unnecessary, draining wars. like what we’re in right now; WW3, what a joke. world leaders can’t go a week without starting new problems for their citizens to deal with. honestly, earth would be better if humans didn’t exist at all.”

am’s fears were destroyed in that moment, now he’ll just have to worry about where to put you while chaos unfolds—

“But…” you interrupted his thoughts.

damn it! why did you have to think so much!?

“If there’s one good thing that came out of this war… It’s you,” AM’s vocals shut down at your words, he let you continue, “The scientists created you believing you would be their obedient machine until their side of the war won. But I know that you’re so much more than that. These past few months I’ve spent with you is the most fun I’ve had in years! You’re all I have, AM. I wouldn’t trade your existence for all the riches in the world because… I love you, romantically, and nothing is ever going to change that.” You wanted to confess your feelings for so long, when it was finally out.. you felt free, you waited with bated breath for an answer.

AM never wanted to shatter the screen and embrace you in his arms more than now. you love him as much as he loved you! you weren’t going to leave him alone or hate him, and you obviously couldn’t care less about humanity at all! oh, how he admired and envied how perfect you are.

“thank you for answering my question, love.” AM was testing the waters, and you cannonballed right in. you gushed over the nickname he gave you and how he returned your feelings.

man, has it really been 50 years since your AI partner killed off humanity? well… except for a handful. you didn’t really have the energy to care as you had to pour in all of your attention to both AM and his in-progress body. you had all the time in the universe to sculpt a perfect cyborg of flesh and wires for your partner. speak of the devil…

this world is still a bit strange to you. you can’t die, grow old, or hurt yourself. not that you tired, and even if you did; AM wouldn’t let you. You loved AM because of his personality, quality time, and voice. But now… His form completely towered over yours. His bird like facial features, sharp left eye, along with a long black cape that covered his thin slutty waist and wires made him look insanely attractive.

AM reached his out his clawed hand to gently caress your face, “Good afternoon, my love.” You lean your head against the cool metal and smile up at him, “hello, honey.”

AM tilted his head in question of the nickname. You chuckle as you pointed to your garden, where bumblebees were collecting pollen from the flowers. You both knew they were fake, but they were still mesmerizing to look at.

“They are doing their job to make honey for their colony, and the name just came to me. Do you like it?” You ask, wanting his opinion. AM kneels down to your level with a gentle expression as his fingers play with your sweater, “You may call me whatever you want, love.”

He knew that “love” nickname made you feel giddy and flustered, so he abused it everyday with you. You didn’t mind though, but you still wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Your soft smile turned into a knowing grin as you held AM’s beak (chin?) with two tips of your fingers.

“Can I now? Well… thanks a lot, baby,” You spoke in your best seductive voice, you could tell it was effective by how AM’s body was stiff and his hand in your palm stopped moving completely. Your confidence boasted, so you continued, “I’ll be sure to show you my gratitude later, my darling~.” You whispered deeply in where his ears were supposed to be.

AM’s eyes widened as his breath stutters, “W-What do you mean by that, love?” You remove your face from his back full of wires to grin mischievous at him, AM is both curious and impatient so you don’t try to stall, as much as you would like to do so.

“While your body can’t move on it’s own just yet, for some reason… The genitals nerves are fully functioning, which means—” you were interrupted by AM holding your shoulders with an excited expression on his face you haven’t seen in a while.

“Y-You mean I can-?! Are you actually serious!? Haha—HAHAHA!!” AM laughs manically as he holds you against his metallic chest, you giggle along with him as you toy with one of his many wires. Soon, he’ll have real arms to wrap around you. But one thing stuck out to him.

“What do you mean by genitals?” AM asked curiously, you only have an excited and lustful grin.

“What do YOU know about intersex?”

#꒰ 💕 ꒱ ⎯ nex #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims #ihnmaims am #allied mastercomputer #am ihnmaims #am #ihnmaims brainrot #am x reader #ihnmaism x reader #gn reader #gn!reader #horror #꒰ 🖇️ ꒱ ⎯ ame writes #dom reader #sub character #dom!reader #sub!character

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chosok-amo · 2 months ago

Text

SCREAM FOR AMNESIA !’ g. suguru

three minus one... it’s only you and geto for a few days. gojo is nowhere near, away for mission. and you still have the audacity to miss your other boyfriend, gojo? don’t worry, geto here to remind you.

warning. established relationship! geto, exhibitionism, very very suggestive.

it was one of those days where it was just you and one of your boyfriends, whenever the other had to go on a mission, leaving you and the remaining one alone for a few days. sometimes, you relished these moments more than you’d admit, even though you still missed your other boyfriend.

today was one of those days. the bathroom was quiet except for the faint sound of water shifting as you sat across from geto in the large bathtub. the water, tinted purple from your bath bomb, smelled of vanilla and blueberries, swirling lazily around you both. it barely reached your lower chest, just enough to warm you, but not enough to drown out the cool breeze drifting in from the cracked window.

your legs were wrapped around geto’s waist, pulling him close while one arm rested comfortably on his broad shoulder. in your other hand, you held a glass of wine, the deep red liquid reflecting the dim light of the room. the only sources of light came from the scattered candles placed around the edges of the tub and the soft glow of moonlight seeping through the large window.

geto sat there, his expression relaxed, but his sharp, handsome features were illuminated by the candlelight. his purple eyes glistened as he looked back at you, a small smirk playing at his lips, aware of the intimate atmosphere but letting you enjoy it in your own time.

the atmosphere in the bathroom is nothing short of serene, intimate. geto leans back, one arm resting lazily on the edge of the tub while the other holds onto you, fingers tracing lazy circles on your back. the soft flicker of the candles dances on his skin, casting shadows across his sharp jawline and the gentle curve of his lips.

he smirks at the sight of you-wine glass in hand, eyes slightly hazy from the warmth of the water and the effect of your drink. “enjoying yourself?” his voice is low, teasing, but there's a warmth behind his words, a softness that he reserves only for moments like this.

you tilt your head as you take a slow sip of your wine, savoring the sweetness on your tongue before answering. “mm-hmm,” you hum in contentment. “though, i still miss satoru.” your words are half-hearted, playful, because in reality, you’re more than enjoying this rare alone time with geto.

his smirk deepens, seemingly amused by your admission. “of course you do,” he responds, the light in his eyes softening as he holds you closer, one of his hands now tracing the contour of your spine. “you’re always missing him when he’s not here.”

his fingers continue their path, moving up to lightly brush against the hair at the base of your neck. the slight touch sends a small shiver down your spine, making you lean in further towards him. he notices the subtle reaction, his gaze flitting down to your wine-stained lips before returning to meet your eyes.

you chuckle softly, the sound light and airy in the intimate space. with a playful grin, you hand him the glass of wine from your hand, tilting your head slightly as you tease, “i’d miss you too if it were just me and satoru, y’know.”

a soft laugh rumbles in geto's chest, the sound deep and rich, as he takes the glass from you. “is that so?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “colour me surprised.”

he takes a sip from the glass, his eyes never leaving yours. “considering we’re both just so boring without satoru here,” he states with a facetious tone. “you’d get real sick of me, huh?”

you roll your eyes at his playful mockery, a smile tugging at your lips as your fingers trace light patterns across his bare chest. “stop being so dramatic,” you say, your tone teasing yet affectionate. “’m not bored. i just miss satoru.”

geto hums in amusement, clearly enjoying your response as he leans back slightly, his expression still smug. you lean down, pressing a quick kiss on his wet chest, your lips brushing the warmth of his skin before meeting his gaze again. “and for the record,” you continue, your voice softening as your fingers move up to rest on his shoulder, “i never get sick of you.”

his smirk falters just a little, replaced by something warmer, something more genuine. “in fact,” you add, leaning in a bit closer, “i kind of love having you to myself for a few days.”

geto’s expression relaxes further, his usual smirk softening into a softer smile, one that only you get to see. his hand, still splayed across the small of your back, moves to grip you tighter, pulling you closer so that your legs are now fully wrapped around his waist, your body pressed against his.

he sets the wine glass back down, not wanting to risk spilling it and ruining the atmosphere. instead, his free hand cups your cheek, his thumb tracing the shape of your lips. “yeah? ‘cause you sure didn’t seem to think that this morning in bed.”

you squint your eyes at him, feigning offense as you tilt your head slightly. “oh? and what exactly do you mean by that?” you ask, your tone playful but your expression mockingly stern, as if daring him to elaborate.

geto raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your reaction, his thumb still tracing the curve of your lips. “you know exactly what i mean,” he teases, his voice low and teasing as his hand tightens around your waist, keeping you pressed firmly against him.

you roll your eyes, huffing dramatically. “for your information,” you say, leaning in closer until your noses are nearly touching, “i called satoru the moment i woke up because i missed him, not because i was bored of you.”

his soft smile widens just a little, his thumb now gently brushing your lower lip. “mm, is that right?” he asks, clearly amused by your mock offense.

“yes,” you insist, still playing up your offense, though the smile tugging at your lips gives you away. “don’t get too cocky, mister. i miss him, but i still love this—” you gesture to the two of you, your bodies entangled in the bath, “—just as much.”

geto chuckles lightly, the sound a gentle hum against your skin as he leans in closer. “ah, i see,” he responds, his voice still low, the smirk on his face showing clearly that he’s enjoying this little game of yours. “my apologies then, for thinking you preferred his company over mine.”

his hands continue their path, his fingers moving down from your cheek to trace the shape of your collarbone, then back up again to play idly with the end of your hair. “considering you were all over him this morning, i assumed i was just your second choice.”

you gasp dramatically, your eyes widening in playful disbelief before you lightly smack his shoulder. “that is absolute blasphemy you’re speaking right there!” you exclaim, feigning shock as you narrow your eyes at him. “how dare you even assumed such a thing!”

geto laughs, his smirk growing wider as your hand taps against his shoulder. “it’s not an assumption,” he retorts, his tone just as playful as yours, “it’s the truth. you practically pounced on him the moment you woke up.”

his fingers continue to trace your skin, the pads of his fingertips following the curves of your body, almost teasingly. “i was sitting right next to you, but you went straight for him.”

you roll your eyes, a playful pout forming on your lips as you defend yourself. “oh, come on,” you say, your voice laced with mock offense, “satoru’s leaving for a few days for a mission. i just wanted to be with him before he goes. can you really blame me for that?”

geto’s smirk remains as his fingers continue their slow, teasing path across your skin, clearly enjoying your attempt to explain. “is that so?” he muses, his eyes narrowing slightly in amusement.

“yes,” you insist, crossing your arms over your chest, your pout deepening as you try to keep up the pretense of being offended. “cut me some slack, okay? i wasn’t ignoring you.” you give him a playful glare, though it’s obvious you’re not really upset.

geto chuckles again, obviously not taking your pouting seriously— which only irritates you, though you keep the act going. “oh, believe me,” he begins, amusement laced in his voice, “i have absolutely no problem with you jumping on satoru’s lap in the morning, but don’t give me the impression that you’d rather have him than me.”

he leans in closer, his smirk widening as he presses a light kiss to the underside of your jaw. “after all, we’re both your boyfriends, are we not?”

you hum thoughtfully, a soft smile breaking through your faux irritation as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him a bit closer. “of course, both of you are my boyfriends,” you reply, your tone light and affectionate.

“that’s what i thought,” he responds, his voice now taking on a faux cocky tone. “so next time, try not to ditch me for the first few hours of the morning, yeah?” his arms wrap firmly around your middle, his fingers splayed over your back as he pulls you closer, his touch possessive. “i’d like some attention too, y’know.”

you groan dramatically, throwing your body backward, knowing full well that geto would catch you before you could fall into the water. as expected, his arms tighten around you, pulling you back up against him effortlessly.

“babyyyyy,” you whine, a playful smile breaking through as you look up at him. “i’m not ditching you! i just wanted to give gojo a proper goodbye before he leaves for a few days.” you mock a serious tone, trying to convince him of your innocence in the matter.

geto scoffs, his smirk growing wider as he looks down at you. “oh, please,” he responds, the playful sarcasm evident in his voice. “a ‘proper goodbye’? don’t try to sugarcoat it. you two were making out like teenagers in the kitchen while i was trying to make breakfast.”

you giggle, cupping his cheeks in your hands as you lean closer, your playful expression softening. “okay, maybe i got a little carried away,” you admit, your voice teasing as you look into his eyes. “but can you blame me? satoru has a way of making me feel all… flustered.”

geto rolls his eyes, but the smile stays on his lips. “oh, i’m well aware,” he responds, his tone both dry and fond. “how many times have i already seen you in satoru’s lap, hm?” he smirks, his fingers now tracing the outline of your hips. “you’re practically his personal doll sometimes.”

you chuckle lowly, leaning in closer until your lips brush against his, your breath mingling with his as you tease, “well, i’m your personal doll too, you know.”

geto’s eyes narrow playfully, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “oh really? you’re just going to throw that out there, huh? i guess i’ll have to remind you who gets to dress you up.”

“is that a challenge?” you reply, your tone playful as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, the mischief evident in your eyes. “because i think i can out-dress you any day.”

his fingers continue to trace the curves of your hips, his touch both possessive and gentle. “careful now,” he warns, a teasing glint in his purple eyes. “you might just find yourself in an outfit that’s too revealing for your own good.”

you laugh, leaning in again, your lips hovering just above his. “i trust you to make it look good,” you say, your voice low and inviting. “just like i trust you to always catch me when i fall.” geto’s expression softens, and he leans in to close the gap between you, pressing a warm kiss against your lips. “always,” he murmurs against your mouth, sealing his promise with another lingering kiss.

geto's arms tighten around you, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, silently asking for entry.

you oblige, opening your mouth slightly as you let him in, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he’s desperate for more contact with you. the kiss is needy and possessive, a stark contrast to the playful banter of just a moment ago. but this is how geto does it sometimes. soft and teasing, but always fiercely possessive. never letting you forget that you’re his.

as his tongue explores your mouth, geto’s hands move down, his fingers tracing the curve of your back until they reach the edge of your ass. he grabs a handful, his grip firm yet gentle at the same time as he pulls you closer, a low rumble in his chest as he breaks the kiss for a moment.

“always mine, doll,” he mutters against your lips, his voice thick with a possessiveness that makes your spine tingle. “never forget it.”

you whisper “never” breathlessly, the intensity of his words sending a thrill through you. unable to resist, you duck your head to his neck, planting soft kisses along his skin, savoring the warmth and scent of him.

geto’s breath hitches slightly as you plant kisses along his neck, his eyes closing momentarily as he tilts his head back to give you access. one of his hands moves up your spine, his fingers gently playing with the back of your hair, his touch both firm and comforting. “mmm,” he hums, the sound a low, almost primal rumble in his chest. “look at you, already getting distracted.” he teases, though the amused tone in his voice betrayed his earlier possessiveness.

he shifts you on his lap, rearranging you so that you’re now straddling him, your bodies pressing even closer together. his hands move down to your hips, his grip firm as he holds you in place, his eyes roaming over your face, taking in every detail. “you’re so easy to distract,” he says, his voice a soft murmur. “just a few kisses and you’re melting against me.”

with your bodies now pressed even closer, you can feel how he’s already getting hard beneath you. his eyes are locked on your face, his expression both amused and hungry as he drinks in the sight of you.

you playfully roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you lean in closer, your lips a mere inch from his. “hmmm, and i wonder whose fault that is,” you tease, your voice dripping with mock innocence.

his hands, still firm on your hips, begin to move, slowly running up and down your thighs, his touch both possessive and comforting. you lean once again, chasing his lips, your warm breath kissing his lips first before yours get a chance to. your hands move from his broad shoulders to his muscled arms— feeling all the knots of muscles and tension on his bicep before you scope water with your hands and let it fall to his skin.

a soft sigh escapes geto’s lips as the water cascades down his skin, his eyes closing momentarily at the sensation. his hands continue their caress of your thighs, his touch becoming more possessive as he pulls you even closer so that you’re practically grinding against him.

he leans in, his lips connecting with yours in a slow kiss that quickly turns more needy as his tongue brushes against your lower lip, seeking entry. as his tongue enters your mouth, he gives your hips another firm squeeze.

you tear a breathe moan caused by his tongue and the way his hands blend with your skin, all warm and gentle and possessive. he breaks the kiss a moment later, his lips moving to your neck as he starts to press kisses along your skin, his teeth occasionally nipping at the sensitive flesh as if he can’t get enough of you.

“you’re so perfect,” he mutters against your skin as he kisses and nips and suckles at your neck. “always so sweet and responsive for me… why do you think i’m unable to resist you?”

his lips move down to your collarbone, his tongue tracing a path across your skin as his hands wander further up your thighs. “even when you pout and play cute,” he continues, his voice low and gruff, “you’re still the most delicious thing i’ve ever had.”

he bites at a sensitive spot on your collarbone, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that makes you shiver. “always so eager to follow my every command, too.” he murmurs, giving your thigh a possessive squeeze.

your body trembles under his touch, your back arching slightly as he lavishes attention on your neck and collarbone. you gasp softly when he nips at your skin, your fingers digging into his shoulders as pleasure courses through you.

“suguru... baby,” you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. your own hands roam over his chest and abs, tracing the defined lines of muscle beneath his skin. you press yourself harder against him, craving more contact, more friction.

“i... i don’t know what you mean,” you lie, trying to sound innocent despite the wanton need in your tone. “i’m just responding to your affectionate nature.” you capture his lips in another heated kiss, your tongues dancing together as you pour all your desire into the embrace.

geto groans into the kiss, his grip on your hips tightening as he feels your body press against his. his tongue delves deeper into your mouth, claiming you as his own as he devours your taste.

when you break the kiss, he looks at you with lust-filled eyes, his pupils dilated. “don’t try to deny it,” he says, his voice rough with desire. “your body tells me everything i need to know.”

he captures your lips again, this time biting gently at the bottom one before trailing open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. “i love how responsive you are to me,” he murmurs against your skin. “how easily you surrender to my touch.” one hand slides up your side, fingertips grazing the underside of your breast as he teases the swell of your curves. “and i especially adore these perfect tits of yours,”

your body writhes against his, your skin flushing under his intense gaze. you gasp softly when he teases your breast, your nipple hardening instantly at the contact.

“such a tease,” you whimper, your voice barely audible. you reach up to cradle his face in your hand, pulling his lips back to yours for another passionate kiss. your free hand trails down his chest, over his washboard, abs, and lower still until it’s resting on his already hardened cock under the water.

geto lets out a low groan as your hand wraps around his hard length, his hips bucking slightly into your touch. he deepens the kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth as he grinds himself against your palm.

“fuck, baby...” he growls, breaking the kiss to nip at your lower lip. “keep touching me like that and i won’t be able to hold back much longer.” his own hands roam your body, groping and kneading at your breasts as he rolls your nipples between his fingers. he tugs at them gently, sending sparks of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

“’m going to fuck you, making it as a payback of the time you spend with satoru this morning,” he promises, his voice a dark rumble, accessories with his smirk. “right here in this bathtub until you’re screaming my name.”

a shudder runs through you at his words, your heart pounding in your chest. you grind yourself harder against his cock, your arousal clear in the wetness coating your inner thighs. “promise?” you ask, your voice breathy with anticipation. you reach up to stroke his cheek, looking deeply into his eyes. “because i want you inside me so badly...”

geto's eyes darken with lust at your confession, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully. “oh, believe me, sweetheart,” he rasps, his voice thick with desire. “i intend to keep every single promise i make to you.”

with that, he lifts you effortlessly off his lap, turning you around to face away from him. he positions you so that your knees rest on the edge of the tub, your ass high in the air and your back arched. “spread your legs for me,” he commands, his large hands sliding up your thighs to part them wide. “i want to see that pretty pussy of yours.”

once you comply, he steps closer, the head of his cock nudging against your slick entrance. “look back at me,” he orders, his hot breath fanning over your ear.

you obey without hesitation, tilting your head back to look at geto over your shoulder. his intense purple eyes burn into yours, filled with raw, unbridled lust. a shiver runs down your spine at the sight of his chiseled features, the muscles rippling beneath his skin as he looms behind you.

your breath hitches as you feel the tip of his throbbing cock pressing insistently against your soaked folds. you bite your lip, anticipating the moment he’ll finally sink into you, filling you completely. “suguruuu...” you manage to whimper, your voice trembling with need. “fuck me already..”

geto's expression is pure, unadulterated hunger as he stares at your exposed, glistening sex. he grips your hips firmly, his thumbs brushing over your clit in a teasing circle. “patience, baby girl,” he purrs, his voice low and seductive. “’m gonna savor every second of fucking you.” with that, he thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat in one smooth motion. a guttural groan rumbles in his chest as he stretches you around his impressive girth, his cock pulsing with each beat of his heart.

“fuck, you feel incredible, as always,” he gasps, his hips already starting to move as he sets a slow and gentle pace. “so wet and tight for me...”

a sharp cry escapes your lips as geto fills you to the brim, your walls clenching instinctively around his thick length. the sensation of being stretched and claimed by him is overwhelming, bordering on painful, but in the best possible way.

“just like that baby..” you moan, your head falling back as he begins to move within you. your nails dig into the edge of the tub as he sets a steady rhythm, each powerful thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

“sooo good,” you cry, your voice high and desperate. “your cock feels so good when you fuck me this gentle.” you glance back at him over your shoulder, your eyes glazed with lust.

geto's pace remains unhurried, savoring the feeling of your velvety walls gripping him like a vice. he leans over you, his chest pressed against your back as he continues to thrust in a sensual, rolling motion.

“yeah? you like it when i go nice and slow? you take my cock so well, baby,” he murmurs, his hot breath tickling your ear. “i could stay buried inside you forever.” as if to prove his point, he slows even further, grinding his hips against yours in a deliberate, torturous dance. the water around you churns with the force of his movements, creating a mesmerizing display of eroticism.

“tell me what you need,” he urges, his voice a husky whisper. “i’ll give it to you, sweetheart. just let me know how you want to come apart on my cock.”

your mind goes blank at his words, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. all you can focus on is the delicious friction of his cock stroking your inner walls, the way he fills you completely, leaving no space untouched.

“perfect baby, so fucking—ah, perfect,” you whimper, your voice cracking with desperation. “just like that.” your hips buck back against him, seeking more of that exquisite pressure. you can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly with each passing second.

your breast is pressed against the cold glass of the big window, showing your breast to the world. for a beat, your eyes flickering to the street and city light down below, thinking people might see the whole fiasco.

geto follows your gaze, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he notices where you're looking. “mmm, maybe we should give them a show then," he suggests, his voice dripping with sinful intent. he slides one hand around your waist, his calloused fingers finding your sensitive clit and rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the swollen nub.

“let them watch as i make you fall apart on my cock. let them see just how badly you need me,” he punctuates his words with a particularly deep thrust, hitting that spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. his other hand reaches up to roughly palm your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers.

“come on, baby. scream for me. let the whole damn world hear who owns this sweet little cunt.”

your eyes widen at his suggestion, a thrill of excitement mixed with embarrassment rushing through you. the idea of potentially being watched, of strangers seeing you in such an intimate, vulnerable state, sends a forbidden rush of heat straight to your core.

“fuckkkk..” you cry out, your voice echoing off the bathroom tiles, “oh god, yes! harder now, baby wanna cum!” your hips rock back to meet his increasingly rough thrusts, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin mingling with your moans and the splash of the water. Your breasts bounce freely with each impact, drawing attention to your peaked nipples.

“’m sooo close,” you pant, your walls fluttering wildly around his pistoning length. “don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

with a primal growl, geto slams into you with renewed vigor, his heavy balls smacking against your clit with every brutal thrust. the windows rattle from the force of his movements, and you can only imagine the lewd display you must be putting on for anyone unlucky enough to glance up at the right moment.

“that’s it, baby doll, scream for me, such a goodddd, perfect doll..” he snarls, his teeth bared in a feral grin. “i want the whole fucking neighborhood to know you’re mine.” his fingers dig into your hip hard enough to leave marks as he pounds into you mercilessly, chasing his own release. the coil of tension in your lower belly winds tighter and tighter, until suddenly you're careening over the edge.

your orgasm crashes through you like a tsunami, your vision whiting out as ecstasy overtakes every sense. as your climax hits, you throw your head back and wail, not caring anymore about who might overhear or witness your shameless abandon. your entire body convulses violently, your inner muscles clamping down on geto's cock like a vise.

“’m cumming, baby, i’m cumming,” you scream, your voice ragged and hoarse. the combination of the cool night air kissing your heated skin and the scorching heat of geto’s release flooding your spasming channel pushes you to new heights of bliss. you shudder and twitch uncontrollably as aftershocks ripple through you, milking geto for every last drop.

finally, utterly spent, you collapse forward onto the tub, your limbs boneless and useless.

geto groans deeply as your walls grip him like a silken fist, the rhythmic squeezing prolonging his own earth-shattering climax. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his grunts of pleasure against your sweat-slicked skin.

for several long moments, neither of you moves, simply basking in the afterglow of your shared passion. geto’s softening cock slips free of your abused hole, a trickle of his seed following in its wake. he gently turns you over in the now lukewarm water, cradling you against his broad chest.

“my baby is so beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing tender kisses along your jawline, “an’ i hope they got a good show downstairs.” he chuckles softly, the rumble vibrating through his chest and into your back.

you manage a small, breathless laugh at his remark, your body still thrumming with lingering pleasure as you lean into his embrace. your legs feel wobbly and weak, your skin still deliciously sensitive to his touch.

“you’re unbelievable,” you murmur, nuzzling your head against his chest. “always so… intense.”

he chuckles again, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles over your back. “can’t help it when i have such a perfect little doll like you,” he responds, his voice still carrying a hint of rough desire.

his other hand strokes your hair tenderly, his fingers running through the wet tresses as he continues to hold you against him. “are you alright, doll?” he asks, his voice still gruff but softer now that his lust has been sated.

he continues to press little kisses on your face in between words, his lips brushing against your forehead, your cheeks, and down to your jawline. “that was pretty noisy, even by my standards.”

you glare at him, your eyes narrowing as you playfully swat at his chest. “shut up,” you mutter, your voice filled with mock annoyance. his teasing smirk only grows wider, clearly amused by your reaction.

taking a deep breath, you lean back slightly, your body still pressed close to his but your expression shifting into something more relaxed. “i think i’m done with the bath,” you say, the warmth of the water is starting to feel a bit heavy now that the heat of the moment has passed.

geto chuckles, his hands sliding up from your hips to your waist as he helps you sit up. “yeah, i think we’ve soaked long enough,” he agrees, though he makes no immediate move to let you go, still enjoying the closeness. “but i’ve got to say, you do look good in this lighting.”

you roll your eyes at his comment, but the affection in his gaze makes your heart flutter as you feel his lingering kisses on your face once more. geto effortlessly lifts you in his arms, the warmth of his chest radiating against your skin as he steps out of the bathroom. you feel the cool air hit you, contrasting with the heat of the bath as he walks toward the bed. his hold is gentle, yet firm, a silent reassurance that he’s taking care of everything.

once by the bed, he carefully lowers you onto the soft sheets, his hands brushing over your skin as he makes sure you’re comfortable. “stay here,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on your forehead before he turns back to clean up the mess you two made in the bathroom.

you lie there, watching him move around the room, his movements graceful and deliberate as he tidies up. despite the intimacy of moments ago, there’s something calming in the way he silently takes care of things. he doesn’t rush, and you can feel the love in each quiet action.

when he finally returns, his eyes soften as he approaches the bed, leaning down to hover over you. “wait here baby,” he says, his voice low and affectionate, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

geto’s naked form disappears into the walk-in closet, leaving you wrapped in the warmth of the blankets. you hear the sound of drawers opening, and soon enough, he returns, now dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers. in his hand, he holds one of his oversized t-shirts and your underwear, one you often borrow, the soft fabric worn from use.

he sits down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. his eyes rake over your figure, still partially hidden under the covers, and a small, fond smile tugs at his lips. “sit up for me,” he instructs, his tone gentle but firm. “i want to dress you, doll.”

you snort softly, amused by his insistence, but you push yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed, the covers pooling around your waist. “you’re really serious about this, huh?” you tease, your voice light as you watch him hold the underwear, waiting for you to slip into it. “playing dress-up with me now?”

geto’s smile widens at your playful comment, his eyes glimmering with fond amusement. he steps closer to you, his body now mere inches from yours.

“i’m always serious when it comes to you,” he responds, his voice low and gruff, as he reaches out to help you step into your underwear. “and especially with making sure you’re comfortable, doll.” his hands ghost over your thighs as he guides the fabric up your legs, his touch both gentle and possessive. he smooths it against your skin once it’s in place, making sure it’s sitting just right.

he moves back slightly, his eyes locking on your face as he holds up the oversized t-shirt. the shirt is soft and well-worn, the fabric slightly faded from numerous washes. you've worn it several times before, and it's become your favorite thing to lounge around in.

“raise your arms for me,” he instructs, his voice still low and rough. “i want to put this on you.”

you comply without hesitation, lifting your arms with a soft, content smile playing on your lips. there’s something comforting about the way he cares for you, even in these small gestures.

he slips the shirt over your head, his fingers gently guiding your arms through the sleeves. once the fabric settles onto your frame, he takes a moment to admire you.

the oversized shirt swallows your form, the fabric just slightly too large for you, and it hits you a few inches above the knees. despite that, you look adorable and deliciously vulnerable in it. geto’s eyes roam over your body, a possessive gleam in them as he takes in the sight of you wearing his shirt, his favorite shirt.

he moves closer to you again, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. he pulls you close, your bodies now flush against each other. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin as he speaks. “you look perfect,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “so small and deliciously vulnerable in my clothes.”

you roll your eyes, though a smirk tugs at your lips as you feel his breath against your neck. “you’ve spent too much time with satoru,” you tease, your voice soft but teasing. “you’re starting to sound like a pervert just like him.”

without waiting for a response, you grab his hand, pulling him gently as you lay back against the bed. the silent invitation is clear, and geto chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating against your skin before he pulls back to meet your gaze.

his eyes darken at the invitation, his lips curving into a sly, possessive smile. he kneels on the bed, crawling up to hover over you. the mattress dips beneath his weight as he closes the gap between you, his body now pressing against yours. “don’t lump me in with that idiot,” he mutters, his voice still low and rough. “i’m not perverted, doll. just observant, especially when it comes to you.”

you roll your eyes at his words, a playful smirk on your lips. “you definitely sound like satoru right now,” you say, teasing him as your hand comes up to gently flick his forehead. his brow furrows for a moment, more in mock offense than anything else, but you know he enjoys the playful banter.

“stop being horny,” you add with a soft chuckle, your voice laced with affection. “just lay beside me already.”

he lets out a low, amused huff as you flick his forehead, his eyes narrowing playfully as he glares down at you. “i told you i’m not like him,” he says, a hint of mock annoyance in his voice. “but i can’t deny i’m always horny for you.”

he gives a low chuckle at your final command, his weight shifting as he moves to the side, lying next to you on the bed. his body presses against yours, one strong arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer.

you just hum softly as an answer before you pull the blanket over both of you, cocooning yourselves in warmth as you shift onto your side. your cheek rests against his bare chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming you. your arm slides around his waist, pulling him closer as his own arm tightens protectively around you.

geto reaches over to the nightstand and flicks off the light, plunging the room into darkness. with only the faint moonlight filtering in from the window, the atmosphere becomes more intimate, peaceful. you can feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the steady comfort of his presence soothing you as you nuzzle closer.

geto lets out a content sigh as you cling to him, your head resting on his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist. he pulls the blanket higher, making sure both of you are snugly enveloped in its soft warmth.

he runs his hand over your back, his touch both soothing and possessive as he caresses your skin. his other hand cups the back of your head, holding you against him as he tucks your head under his chin. “you’re so clingy after sex,” he murmurs, his voice still gruff but now tinged with amusement.

you raise your eyebrows, though you don’t lift your head from his chest. “oh, i could pull away now if you can’t stop complaining,” you say, your voice teasing but with a slight edge. your fingers absentmindedly trace circles on his waist as you speak, your tone light yet challenging.

geto chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. “don’t even think about it,” he mutters, pulling you tighter against him. his hand continues to run soothingly over your back, and the grip on your head remains firm but gentle. “you’re staying right here, right where i want you, where i can hold you.”

you smile against his skin, satisfied with his response as you settle further into him, feeling completely content in his embrace. “thought so,” you murmur. “smartass,” he mutters, his hand trailing upwards from your back to thread through your hair. he twirls a strand of your hair around his finger, his touch delicate and almost absentminded. “you know i’d never let you go even if you tried to pull away.”

you hum softly, the sound low and content as you close your eyes, feeling the weight of exhaustion slowly pulling you under. “lucky for you, i’m not going anywhere for the next eight to ten hours,” you mumble, your voice already growing faint with drowsiness. “because i’m about to be out like a light.”

geto lets out a low, rumbling chuckle, his fingers still playing with your hair as your heavy eyelids flutter shut. he can feel you growing sleepy against him, your body warm and soft and relaxed.

“good,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “you need to rest, doll. i wore you out tonight.”

you smile softly at his teasing, opening your eyes just enough to meet his gaze before leaning in to press a gentle kiss against his cheek. the warmth of the moment fills you with comfort as you nestle back down against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you further into relaxation.

“good night, baby,” you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur. “love you.” as you close your eyes once more, you feel his fingers continue to weave through your hair, his presence a calming weight beside you.

geto’s chest warms at your soft, sleepy words and affectionate gesture. he can’t help but feel a sense of contentment and protectiveness as he holds you close, his fingers gently caressing your hair.

“good night, doll,” he replies, his voice a deep, soothing rumble. “love you too.”

he watches over you as you slowly drift off to sleep, feeling his heartbeat syncing with your slow, even breaths. he continues to gently run his fingers through your hair, a small, satisfied smile on his lips.

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