#at a mediocre cafe.
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Ceroba having to work a shitty (probably minimum wage) job just to keep her family afloat really isn’t talked abt enough is it
#everything has to be about chujin. he can be the local hero who donates generously and is adored by all. she’s just the plain wife who works#at a mediocre cafe.#she makes me so fucking sad YOU DONT HAVE TO LIVE IN HIS SHADOW 👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹
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sum doodles for @lilshroomboi‘s cafe au
it’s p cute
#sorry for the mediocre art lately#been tired#paws draws#art#my art#hazbin cafe au#huskerdust#angel dust x husk#angel dust#husk#cherrisnake#cherri bomb#sir pentious#hazbin au#hazbin art
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going about my ordinary life: i wish things were different
contemplating the approach of Life Changes: aahhghhghghahh!!! !!!
#told my job i am leaving in may... still don't have another job to go to but i have a friend to live with and uhhh we'll figure it out#i am actually rly sad to leave oklahoma tho. being preemptively nostalgic#it's kinda fucked up maybe but also i like it!! and ill miss my pigeons and my mediocre buses and my little cafes and my friendsss#i hate change and i hate attachment. but i also hate stagnation and alienation :///#skravler
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you know how to bake but not how to cook
yea 💀
the sad part is i enjoy the process of cooking, i just kinda suck at it (unless its simple stuff ig)
[☆]
#my baking goods? theyre so good even my sis says i should run a cafe or smth. my cooking? i can make like 3 dishes and#theyre pretty mediocre but ok with me 💀#reply#ask game
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I spent the first half of my life so shy and introverted that it still makes me a little giddy that I'm now the kind of person to casually ask a stranger if her coffee also tastes like mud.
#it did reader#it was a very cute interaction where we both were like#look we know this place isn't good#but it's not normally THIS bad#and then we had a little chat about coffee on the sidewalk#younger me would have been in absolute awe#(for locals it's Park Ave cafe#I can't help being fond of it even though it's very mediocre#because it's so charmingly dated#no oretension or fluorishes#it feels like food my grandmother#who sucked at cooking#would make)
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it was gonna be a weird night regardless but hot damn. that was a Night for Sure
#basicaly i got tickets for a lil pre-halloween misfits tribute show bc yippe! fun yk?#as i dicovered a couple days after i made that purcahse#the venue was the fucking hard rock cafe#which couldnt be More Lame tbh but yk?#i already had the ticket and it would get me outta the house at least right?#so i was planning to have a silly lil tropical margarita just to make danzig roll in his future grave#but uhhhhh. plans Changed <3#basically iiiii ended up drunksitting n drinking a mediocre strawberry lemonade instead#imm not gonna put all her shit Out Here on the internet even tho there is a less-than-zero percent chance that it could be connected to her#but yeah she now has the honor of being easily the most intoxicated (n still mostly conscious/functional) person ive ever been around#like hey it was nice to have a distraction from feeling Very Out Of Place#but i woulda Preferred that to not have stemmed from the 'oh holy shit this person is vulnerable i gotta Keep Them Safe' instinct#girl i hope you got home safe fr <3#anwyas. i go sleep now bai!!!#whatever the fuck#alcohol /
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jenny nicholson understands me and my love for theme parks and themed restaurants and themed hotels and essentially any heavily themed experience
#it is a PARTY when i get to go to rainforest cafe or margaritaville or any other themed dining experience#i don't even care if the food is mediocre and overpriced. i'm going for the ambiance#hell i even love an overly-decorated olive garden. why am i suddenly inside a small italian village?#or the local mexican restaurant that took the same approach and made the inside a little town square of a mexican village#and my long-standing childhood disney world obsession.#which is one i avoid talking about because then i'll get called a disney adult and a disney shill etc. and that's not what it is at all#it's the engineering and design of it all. the making of another reality for people to enjoy#and the fact that i had the privilege to go every couple of years growing up so it was a big part of my childhood#and i have a lot of memories there#my parents have those disney visa credit cards so they would save up enough Disney Points TM to fully pay for our tickets and meals#and... idk. i love the haunted mansion. i love epcot. i love (LOVE) the peoplemover.
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hey guys remember that one person who designed their own collab cafe menu for lmk? what if I... what if I...
#I am once again feeling left out of pop up shops and cafes for things I like in japan#I'm gonna do it my damn self. maybe#<- mediocre cook
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trying to find matcha powder that isn't ass quality in stores without resorting to The Devil (Amazon) is 1000xs harder when u live in a city that doesn't have an H-Mart 😭😭
#there's a Cafe Maiko near me that im gonna try#my local japanese market has one that's mediocre but i don't wanna settle for it#and fucking world market only has rishi and it has sugar mixed in it uggggghhh
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“What would I taste like” DOWN girl
#ashkgdaasghgsa I should not have been and yet still was surprised by the thirst#also p#wait what wtf is hap—okay really the fake eyelashes stay on in the bath? really?#anyway I probably should not have done such a large pour of mediocre wine since I’m planning to work tomorrow but oh well#mostly planning to go to a cafe and write so much copy 🥲🥲🥲#I don’t miss working in comms full time folks I rlly rlly don’t#personal
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Declined
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader
wc: 9.2k words (whoopsies)
warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, stalker!Simon but he does it with the intention of loving you so therefore I also tag this as fluff, the usual swearing, smut, f!oral receiving, p in v sex, unprotected sex, finishing inside
Continuation of this idea
He almost hadn’t seen you, that very first time
He was begrudgingly on his sixth day of mandatory leave, something he had been pushing Price on for too long now, the Captain finally putting his foot down and saying the Lieutenant could no longer avoid it. Following a couple of particularly brutal operations recently, the higher ups were becoming increasingly concerned as to his mental stability, stating Ghost’s actions and his own written reports reflected an impulsivity and darkness they were steadily losing confidence in.
Ghost found the claims ridiculous. They had shaped him into exactly what they needed him to be on the battlefield, hadn’t they? They’d taken the scrawny runt of the litter and shaped him into a lean, mean, killing machine who never blinked twice as the blood of those lives he’d taken became as permanent of a stain on his skin as the ink from a tattoo gun. What did they fuckin’ care how his bloody mental health was?
Price insisted that the younger man not sulk inside of his flat for the entire duration of what he tried to convince him could be treated as a well deserved rest, encouraging him to get out at least once a day, if only to stretch his legs and prevent him from going truly stir crazy.
“Ye do understand they won’t let you back until they think you’re at least tryin’ to put the work in?” The Captain had told him the last time he saw him, doing his best to remind his second in command of the situation they’d been put into. “Take up fuckin’ yoga if ye think it’ll help ye. Just find something to distract yer mind and have them clear ye to come back sooner than later.”
A distraction huh?
Now, he’s sat at a table in the corner of an already too small and too cramped cafe, nursing a less than mediocre cup of tea on his daily outing, only just looking to help pass the time faster until he could be back on base where he belonged. For no particular reason other than perhaps divine intervention, he had only happened to glance up that time the bell above the door rang rather than the other hundred times it had gone off this morning, and that was when Ghost saw you
You, who appeared as though you’d only stumbled into the shop because a strong gust of wind had pushed you in his direction, your skittish, frazzled appearance making you stand out amongst the crowd of bored looking caffeine addicts stood waiting in queue, hardly sparing you a glance as they awaited their next 5£ fix
You were pushing your hair out of your face as you caught your breath, accompanied by the sound of the bell ringing as the door finally shut behind you, a noise nearly akin to angels strumming their harps up above when Ghost caught his first proper glimpse of your visage
There was something about you that piqued his interest then and there, his eyes never leaving you as you continuously struggled with the stack of books, journals and loose papers nearly slipping from your grasp, your other arm occupied with the so full it could burst tote bag that kept sliding off your shoulder
He had to stop himself from actually scoffing at your appearance, you came across as so opposite to how he carries himself, silent and stealthy, cool and collected, priding himself on being able to slip in and out of rooms unnoticed, even with his huge frame. And here you were, stumbling in like a bull in a china shop and appearing before him like the epitome of a hot mess on legs
He watched you the entire time you stood in queue, he watched you place your order and pay, noting the way his cold, dead to the world heart tried to skip a beat when you smiled at the barista, he watched you glance about the cafe as you waited for your beverage, your gaze somehow never landing on the one that had been focused on you since you walked in
Now, there are countless explanations as to why Ghost did what he did next, many of them could be explained away as being innocent enough, no real ill-intent or harm done, the Lieutenant was simply bored and looking for something to occupy his time with, to entertain his mind, like the higher ups had ordered
Unfortunately for you, he believed he had just found his distraction
It was really almost too easy, any simple civilian could have done it, his SAS skills not even needing to come into play you were making this so simple for him, you might as well have been asking for it
First, he saw your eyes light up when the barista called your name out along with your drink order, giving Ghost the first half of the information he needed. Next, he was watching you walk by his table to collect your beverage, paying him no mind at all as he glanced towards the stack in your arms, your last name practically popping out at him from the top corners of nearly all your loose papers, granting the large men exactly what he’d been hoping to see
You were none the wiser as you happily skipped out of the cafe, bidding the girl behind the counter a happy Sunday along the way, unaware as to the pair of eyes following your every movement, and the traumatized mind behind them who had already begun his plotting
One week
Seven days go by since that first Sunday he saw you in the cafe
And in that time, Simon’s kept himself busy, learning as much as he can about his newest distraction, his new little hobby, his pet project
Equipped with your first and last name tucked into the folds of his brain, it had been all too simple, nearly comical how easy it was for Ghost to look you up online and learn all he wanted to know about you
Thanks to the world wide web, in a weeks time Ghost had been able to discover all those essential details he supposes other men would have had to learn through taking you on date after date, finding out which school you’re attending for your masters degree, gaining access to your class schedule, giving him a glimpse into your routine Mondays through Fridays, discovering which local book store you’re working at part time on the weekends
You’re evidently a clever bird, having your few social media accounts set to private mode, but you’re sweet to think something like that could keep someone like him from getting what he wants
Soon enough, he’s got access to every photo and video you’ve ever uploaded to the web through the years, happy to note that you’ve never posted anything that would hint towards there being a man in your life right now
And really, it isn’t entirely your fault that you’re so open and honest in some of your posts, believing that no one apart from your family and close friends will be reading it, as you had excitedly posted photos of your new apartment last year, writing in the caption how you were eager to start this new chapter of your life, living on your own, all by yourself, not even a dog to keep you company when the floor boards creak at night and branches tap against the windows, just and old blind cat you’d rescued
While your friends had commented on how cute and cozy your decor had been, his own eyes skipped over the overpriced pillows and throws and instead locked on to the windows and doors, noting the standard, or altogether missing, security systems in place
Ghost is thinking about what the easiest way to gain access to your flat’s floor plan would be, he could pretend he’s an interested tenant and reach out to the landlord, hmm but then he’d have to actually talk to someone, something he’s been able to avoid doing so far, avoid leaving any trace- when the sound of the bell ringing above the door lets him know you’ve walked in
Much like last time, his eyes following your figure is the only perceptible movement he allowed himself, guarded by the shadows of his hood over his head, no one would ever be able to notice the steadfast attention he pays to your every single movement
You spend a total of 9 minutes 38 seconds in the cafe this time around, from the time you enter until you’re walking back out with your warm drink in hand, each second being ingrained into Ghost’s mind
A small part of him had almost tried to fool himself in the beginning, attempting to convince himself that this would be enough, learning about a curious little bird from behind a screen and silently watching her bounce around a coffee shop once a week should have been enough to keep his warring mind occupied, to keep the Lieutenant distracted until the higher ups decided enough time had passed to offer him a chance back
That was until, he’d heard you laugh
You were nearly out of the cafe, so close to being an itch he could almost consider satisfyingly scratched and over with, when a woman and her overzealous toddler came bounding round the corner, practically knocking into you with your full arms
But rather than becoming upset at your nearly spilled drink or almost ruined academic papers, you reassured the woman, got down to the tots level to make sure they were alright, and then you laughed with them
Your fucking giggle was to him what children heard when the ice cream truck came driving by, your smile stretching further than it previously had before his eyes, your voice sounding as melodic as the bell above the door did, and that was when Ghost knew, he was fucked
All of the world’s information online couldn’t put into words what he was seeing in front of him with his own two tired eyes; you were sweet
Too sweet, tooth-achingly sweet, sweet enough to trust this cold, dark world and offer it a bright smile in return
He’s seen people killed for far, far less
But not you
He wouldn’t allow such a cruel fate to befall such a darling bird, he wanted to keep you sweet, keep you smiling and giggling without worries of predators watching from the shadows, mouths salivating and jaws itching to clamp down on something soft
Not when you’d flown to close to him twice now, near enough that he can practically feel the wind beneath your wings as you float out of the cafe again, unaware that you’ve stepped into the large, gilded cage that is Ghost’s attention
Another week passes
Ghost takes his curiosity away onto the streets for the first time and counts to sixty before he follows you out of the coffee shop that Sunday, careful to stick close to the buildings and shadows, mingling in with the crowds and keeping a reasonable distance from you as he follows in your steps
He lurks near the crowded bust stop across the street from the moment you walk into your shift at the bookshop, and remains there until the second you step back out hours later, locking up the store behind you and beginning your stroll home
He waits outside your flat, noting which window on the second floor lights up with the soft glow of a lamp not long after you venture into the building, letting him know exactly which one is yours, and which one he’ll be keeping a close eye on from now on
Another week passes
Ghost has most of your routine memorized by now
He knows what time you leave in the morning depending on your classes that day, knows you often don’t make it home until after dark on those days
He knows your shifts at the bookstore every weekend never change, with your Sunday morning visits to the cafe before work being one of the few luxuries you apparently allow yourself
Ghost hangs around your flat often enough that he allows some of the neighbours to begin recognizing him in passing, letting them assume he must live in the building as well
All the better for him really, when the nice older couple doesn’t blink twice as he carefully grumbles about being locked out one night and they grant him their key code to unlock the front doors
Another week passes
Ghost knows you’ve been complaining to your landlord about how the building’s laundry machines are giving you a hard time, though you don’t tell the balding man about how it seems your undergarments are the only thing disappearing from your loads-
He knows where you do your shopping, and how you avoid a certain cashier who never gets the hint when you don’t return his attempts at flirting
He knows your Sunday morning coffee order by heart, knows exactly around what time you’ll be popping into the cafe, always around 8:25am before your 9am shift stocking books six blocks away
Another week passes
Ghost knows you haven’t noticed yet that the nuisance of a cashier at your local grocer hasn’t shown up to work in days now, the Lieutenant having ensured that he wouldn’t be bothering you anymore
He knows you’re running low on panties, considering he has nearly an entire weeks worth of your unwashed garments tucked safely in his nightstand
He knows you’ve started to notice the door leading out to your second storey balcony isn’t always locked when you return home, even though you could have sworn it was secured before you left that morning
He knows you’ve begun to question whether you left that lamp on when you rushed out for school, or if you’d closed your bedroom curtains before bed at night, or where those leftovers in the fridge went-
Ghost knows it’s nearly time to act - his clever bird is slowly catching on as he grows less and less careful, more daring - but it’s on one of those nights that he feels bold enough to slide your balcony door ajar enough for him to slide inside and watch your chest rise and fill with each breath as you sleep peacefully unaware, that his phone rings and nearly ruins everything
It was only in recent weeks that Ghost felt confident enough, or perhaps stupid enough his Captain say, to observe you more closely, taking a more ‘hands-on’ approach. At night, he more often than not occupied the nooks and crannies of your domicile as you tossed and turned in your sleep, mere steps away from the man who simply wished to watch you dream for now
He can’t explain his fascination with you even to himself - it’s as if he awoke one morning to discover he- someone had drilled a hole into his skull and poured your liquid form directly into his cranium
He sometimes wishes you were as easy to catch as a common insect, wishes that he could examine you under a microscope, to pin your extremities down and take a scalpel to your soft flesh to finally peer inside and see what makes you tick- but he knows he must tread lightly, keep you from bleeding out on the table too soon
Always careful and sure of his movements as he inched your bedroom door open that night, he had been preoccupied on watching you for any sudden indication of disturbing and waking you, he’d been entirely caught off guard by the sudden buzzing going off in his pocket
He hadn’t been expecting anything from his cell that night, considering that this was the first sign of life his the device had shown in the month he’d been forced on leave, but he thanked whatever God might still be listening to him that the ringer was off like it always was, saving him from the disaster that would have been his ringtone suddenly waking you just before two o’ clock in the morning to a masked stranger lurking in your doorway
Though the phone call hadn’t woken you, it had startled Ghost enough to throw him off, had him stepping back in surprise and making the near fatal mistake of stepping on one of your cats squeaky toys
The cheap pet store toy goes off in the otherwise deadly silent room, only the light of the moon creeping through your curtains casts a faint glow across your sleeping figure, which to Ghost’s horror, begins to stir softly
Ghost has backed out of your bedroom, slipped out the balcony door, silently shut it behind him and jumped back down onto the street with the agility of a trained professional in their element, all before the call has even been sent to voicemail
He’s ripping the device from his pocket and slamming thick fingers onto buttons as the sudden surge of adrenaline catches up to him- as he realizes just how fucking close that was - daring to glance up and spot a single light turning on in the window he knows is your bedroom
“What?” He asks harshly into the receiver, uncaring to check what the caller ID says- only one person has his cell number anyhow
“I’ll be honest,” The Captain’s accent comes through clear as day, sounding all too chipper for the current time on the clock. “I was expectin’ at least a slightly warmer greetin’ from you.”
“After a month of hearing jack shit from you?” Ghost knows he’s being slightly crueller than he needs to be. He is happy to hear Price’s voice, but the inconvenient timing of this call has him on edge, has him wishing this conversation would end already. His body may be out of your flat, but his mind is still up there with you, wondering if you’ve gone back to sleep yet, if you were convinced it was just the cat moving around at night. “Wha’ is it, Cap?”
There’s silence on the line for a moment, shuffling and the tell-tale sound of the older man letting out a deep sigh as he settles in says, “You’ve been… quiet Ghost. Was expectin’ to have heard from you by now.”
“Ain’t I supposed to be bloody takin’ it easy? As you’d put it? Why would I call when you’re the one that fuckin’ sent me away.” He surprises even himself with his harshness towards a man he holds so much respect for, one of the few people he holds to such a high standard. But the inconvenience of the timing of this call has Ghost on edge, has him uneasy, spitting out any words that will end this call and allow him to let out the breath he feels he’s still holding in.
“Fair ‘nough.” The Captain answers, having already suspected that this would likely not turn into the most joyous of phone calls. “Though for the record, you know it was never my call, Ghost. I pushed against it, vouched for you, they just-” the older man lets another deep sigh before he decides to end that train of thought and get to the point of why he called in the first place. “They’re saying they’re willing to have you come in now, with the time that’s passed. Retake your psych eval. You tell them whatever they want to hear to pass you, and you’re back in, you hear me?”
He can almost picture it, the longer Price goes on
He could pick up the duffel bag he’s had packed and sitting ready by the door since the moment he’d been put on this mandatory leave, drive to base, bullshit his way through whatever fuckin’ questions are meant to determine whether he’s fit for duty or not (even if he risks returning with a mind even darker than when they sent him away-), and be back on the battlefield by the end of the week, gunshots ringing in his ears once more and blood under his fingernails
The thing is however, there’s an itch under his skin he hasn’t been able to scratch yet, a melody stuck on repeat in his mind he hasn’t been able to perfect the tune to quiet yet, a sliver he put into his flesh himself and hasn’t found a way to pry out without making a mess
“Wish it were that simple.” The masked man grumbles under his breath, leaning his head back against the scratchy brick of the building, staring up at the starless sky, the only light he can see is one leading him back towards you
“What was that?” Price attempts to clarify, believing he’s misheard his Lieutenant. From his perspective, this is the news his second in command has been waiting to hear this entire time and he suffered through days of boredom and inactivity. He figured this would be a quick call that ended with his missing task force member returning as soon as possible
“‘Fraid I ain’t quite ready yet, sir. Got something I need to take care of first.”
“You- how do you mean, Ghost?” He asks again, in slight disbelief that the man on the other end of the line isn’t itching to return as he believed he would be.
“Took your advice, Cap. Found a distraction. Can’t go being upset now, to find out I’m distracted.”
It takes him longer than it should, to come up with what he considers as Plan A
Every scenario he dreamt up in his head, every possible meet-cute that could occur, none of it seemed good enough for inserting himself into your life and ensuring his spot became a permanent one
What if he caught you at a bad time and you hardly spared a glance at him?
What if he intimidated you, the way he tended to throw most people off?
What if you found him strange, creepy, scary?
What if you didn’t like him and he ruined any chance he ever had at doing this right?
He couldn’t risk such a thing, not when he intended on keeping you around for a long, long time
He had to ensure that your first meeting went well, was one where you would be just as infatuated with him as he’d been with you
In order for this to work, he had to have you approach him
Either way, he was going to have you, he would just rather if you went willingly and happily
The idea had struck him on a Saturday, as he watched you and your coworker locking up the bookstore one evening, overhearing a snippet of your conversation had a lightbulb appearing above his head
You stood by the shopfront as your coworker tugged on the door handle, making sure it was locked tight for the night, before she mentioned to you; “God, I wish payday wasn’t a week away.”
“Tell me ‘bout it.” You’d agreed, readjusting the strap of your constantly slipping tote bag on your shoulder. “I hope I’ve got enough money in my bank account to cover my coffee tomorrow morning.”
Bingo
He’d shown up to the cafe extra early the next morning, though he always arrived at least a half hour before you did, wanting to fade into the background of the bustling morning crowd before you popped in
He’d considered finding a way to hack your bank cards and have them malfunction, but then thought better of it, curious if he could go about this another way that was less likely to leave a digital footprint
He knew the barista working the counter this morning was a newer hire, hadn’t even been here for a full month yet
He tried to look as non-intimidating as he could as he walked up to her, though that was no easy feat considering his stature alone
He ordered his drink, his fee for being able to occupy the corner table as long as he liked, before he told her he had a strange request to make
He was confident that she wouldn’t tell him no, that she was still new enough to the job that she wouldn’t want to deny a paying customer
He explained that there’d be a woman coming in later, and that he wanted to pay for her order
Ghost could see how the naive girl was almost fooled into believing he was sweet for a moment, perhaps caring even, asking him if he was wanting to start one of those pay it forward trains where everyone pays for the person behind them- before he cut her off
“No.” He’d clarified firmly, seeing her eyes widen only slightly before hastily putting her customer service face back in place. “Only her.”
He said he wanted to her pretend as though your cards weren’t working when you would go to pay- to tell you they had declined or something, before he’d step in and pay for you
“She’s an old friend o’ mine. Haven’t seen her in a while. Was hoping you could help me with this sort o’ … ‘prank’ if you will.”
Any hesitation the woman might have still been harbouring quickly disappeared when a 20£ note was flashed to her
Nearly a half hour later, he watches his plan unfold without a hitch
You think nothing of it the first time the barista tells you your payment didn’t go through, becoming confused when it declines a second time, and increasingly flustered each time after that when every method of payment you have can’t cover your 5£ morning drink
Ghost watches this unfold with a satisfied smirk hidden under his plain medical mask - he thought the balaclava might be a bit too much for your first meeting - enjoying seeing you flounder momentarily, unaware of how everything you know is about to change as he steps closer, extending his gloved hand next to you, close enough to feel your heat radiating through your jacket, before he’s tapping his card against the machine and speaking to you for the first time
“I’ve got tha’ for ya.”
And suddenly, as simple as flicking a switch on, as easy as waking up from a peaceful sleep, Ghost now gets to watch all his hard work pay off right before him, as your eyes meet finally meet his for the first time
He has to actively fight to hear your incessant apologies and thank you’s aimed his way over the thundering of his heart beating in his damaged eardrums, has to refrain himself from grinning as wide as a Cheshire Cat beneath his mask and give himself away too soon
Though his poker experience is usually limited to late nights under foreign stars with the 141, Ghost knows how to play his cards right, especially with you
He turns you down at your first offer to pay him back, letting you stew in the awkward discomfort of a stranger saving your ass in front of other strangers for a moment longer, before you’re saying the exact words he wanted to hear coming from your lips, as though he’d handed you the script himself
“Do you come here often? I just mean that- I come here a lot- sometimes. And if you’re here next time I’m here, then maybe I can pay you back, buy you a drink.”
With a hurried promise to meet him here at this time next week, and a sheepish smile sent his way as you duck out of the busy cafe to head to work, Ghost slips the barista another 20£ in thanks before he’s out of the shop as well, following you from a distance, each step he takes feeling lighter than the next
You can’t keep pretending anymore
Even your friends are starting to take notice
Well, if you can count the people who are forced to spend time with you, your classmates and coworkers, as friends
“You all good over there?” Your colleague asks you as you’re restocking books on the shelves one afternoon, having noticed the way you jumped in surprise when a customer rounded the corner unexpectedly
“Yeah I-” You take a steadying breath, one hand still clutching your frantic heart as it races in your chest. “I’ve just been paranoid recently. Think school’s getting to me.”
You can tell she doesn’t quite believe you, based off the way she’s still looking at you, before she decides to drop the subject for now, going to greet the couple that just walked in
You’re not sure you’d believe yourself either, if you were the one on the outside looking in
While it was true that you were in a particularly busy portion of the semester at the moment, your assignments and grades were unfortunately the furthest thing from your mind
You’d been able to play it off at first, blaming your constantly preoccupied mind and overloaded schedule, how else could you keep forgetting such silly things like turning the lamp off though you could’ve sworn you had- and believing you’d left yourself two slices of pizza when the plate in the fridge obviously only had one on it but wait you only ordered a small and ate half last night how could- and the plants that you knew you kept neglecting suddenly began blooming back to life when you knew you hadn’t watered them in ages
Those strange occurrences, those little blips in your memory were easier to pass off, less difficult to wrestle around in with in your psyche and instead pass off as moments of forgetfulness, a busy student and part time employee with too much on her plate and not enough of a social life
But then things went from being strange, to downright concerning
You knew you had locked the balcony door last night, hell you checked it every damn night, a habit you’d had long before you lived on your own in the middle of a busy city, so why were you not only often finding it unlocked, but one night you found it slightly ajar, the morning breeze rustling the curtains as though they were taunting you step closer
Speaking to some of your other neighbours in passing, none of them had anything close to similar complaints about the laundry machine stealing their undergarments as a price to pay for clean laundry, your panties apparently being the only victims, something you were trying to convince yourself wasn’t as bizarre as it clearly was, especially when you were folding laundry one day and discovered you had quite literally not a single pair of knickers left
And then there were the dreams
If you could even call them that
Dreams where a large, dark stranger creeps into your home, into your bedroom, and simply watches you
Lurks in the corners of your flat and observes your every move, your every breath, never making a single sound, as silent as a ghost
And the stranger never does anything, never says anything, only ever just stands there, until you wake up and you can swear you see his shadow disappearing out of the corner of your eyes as you open them
It doesn’t take long for you to start noticing the shadow when you’re awake too
Disappearing around bends and corners, slipping through grocery aisles and alley ways, blending amongst crowds and backgrounds, vanishing when you turn your head to catch sight of him
You feel like you’re losing your mind
“Why don’t you come out with Jordan and I tonight?” She tries again, coming to drop another box full next to your feet. “Take your mind off of school. We’re going to try that new pub down near Walton Street.”
“I would, but-” You cut yourself off, spotting your manager coming to ring up a customer at the front. The two of you exchange knowing glances and small smiles, knowing your sweet old man of a boss doesn’t truly mind when his employees chit chat together, he says he likes seeing you all getting along, but you still try to keep up appearances
You put your thumb and pinky out to look like a phone before shaking it by your ear, letting your coworker know you’ve got plans for the night as she playfully rolls her eyes at you and mouths “I see, I see” with her hands up in mock surrender, before she’s retreating to gather more boxes from the back
It’s the same plans you’ve had almost every night for going on nearly two weeks now
While it was true that the sudden strange occurrences in your life were preoccupying most of your mind these days, you were still in fact a busy student, and so while you hadn’t entirely forgotten about the stranger you’d promised a coffee to the week prior, you couldn’t hide your genuine surprise at seeing him there that next Sunday
He was sat at a table in the corner, his hands free of any drink, allowing you to pay him back, just as he said he would
What he hadn’t prefaced the last time however, was how quickly he’d make you fall for him
While he might not have been the type of guy you would have originally gone for, unable to deny the intimidating aura that follows him around, you were all too pleased to discover that behind that hardened exterior was someone you got along with without even having to try, discovering he agreed with everything you said, had a lot in common with you, listened attentively to every word you spoke, not to mention he was certainly not hard on the eyes
You weren’t able to sit with him long that morning, explaining to him that the cafe was usually your much needed caffeine stop on your way to work, though you’d walked to the bookstore that morning with a pep in your step, and a new number in your contacts, under the name Simon
It wasn’t even a full 24 hours later when he’d first called you up
You were doing dishes in your flat, getting ready to turn in early that night when your phone rang
You couldn’t help the blush that overtook you at hearing his gravelly voice come through the line, tickling your ear as he apologized for already calling you so soon, he just couldn’t remember the name of that book you’d mentioned yesterday and it was bothering him because he wanted to read it before he saw you again
Next thing you knew, close to three hours had gone by, and you felt like a teenager when you both admitted neither wanted to hang up yet, satisfying one another with a promise to call again soon
Soon, it turns out, was the very next night
And the night after that
And the night after that
And soon, you can Simon were talking on the phone every night before bed, hours and hours racking up as you learned more about each other
It was a nice distraction from the source of your anxieties you refused to fully acknowledge yet, a welcome way to take your mind off the stress you’d been experiencing
If you weren’t already so distracted, you might have been paying just a little closer attention
You might have noticed how skilled he was at deflecting personal question aimed his way, or how he was able to answer without truly answering, always quickly turning the spotlight back to you, making you feel seen and listened to in a way no man had done before, taking the attention away from him time and time again
You might have noticed he agreed with you a little too often, never actually voicing any opinions until he knew what yours was first, never taking a stance unless he knew what yours was
What you really should have noticed was the way he seemed to know things about you that you couldn’t remember telling him, chalking it up to being so tired some nights you must have forgotten sharing that with him
In the end, Simon was saying all the right things at the right time, and you were all too happy to hear what you wanted to hear
It was barely ten minutes passed 9 when you were turning the key in the lock for the night, making sure the doors wouldn’t budge before you tightened your hold on your bag and began the trek home, the butterflies in your stomach begin to flutter at the thought of hearing Simon’s voice through the phone soon enough
Luckily, you were only about eight blocks away from home, and the summer sun had only just begun setting as the last of the customers were dwindling out of the shop, meaning you weren’t walking in total darkness quite yet
Yet somehow, something in the air tonight felt different, had the hairs on the back of your neck rising as though anticipating a predator lurking around the corner, ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey
You tried you continue convincing yourself you were nothing short of delusional, paranoid, that watching too many true crime docs was getting to you
But then, just as you were waiting for the pedestrian crossing sign to change, out of the corner of your eye, you saw your shadow
You whipped your head around too quickly, straining your neck but desperate to catch a glimpse and prove you weren’t crazy, but as always, there was no one there
The small crowd around you began crossing the street, unaware of the adrenaline begin to course through your veins as you hobbled along with them, noticing with regret that no one else continued in the direction you would have to turn, leaving you to traverse the next few blocks alone
You hurried your pace, trying to shake the undeniable feeling of something being wrong, when for the first time, you heard your shadow
Light footsteps that grew heavier the more you paid attention to them, the kind that weren’t casually strolling by as you might have hoped, but rather were on a determined path, and to your utter fear, were gaining speed
You never once dared turn your head this time, fear convincing you that should you stop and look back, he would be right there over your shoulder, a shadow coming to life just in time to take yours away
With your building in sight, you said fuck it and broke out into a sprint, hurrying towards the main doors and frantically entering in your code before the worst fo your fears could come true, never glancing back as the doors unlocked and you made a mad dash inside and up the stairs
You were barely through your apartment door before your phone was in your hand, dialling the last number you’d called, the only number you called these days
He answered before the first ring had finished
“‘ello?”
“Simon.” You hated the way your voice sounded, trembling around his name and giving away the clear distress you were in, but you couldn’t help it. Your poor heart was racing a mile a minute, you had tears threatening to spill over your lash line at any moment, you were trembling like a leaf and wanted to seek out the only comfort you’d had recently
“Wha’s wrong?” He immediately asked, evidently hearing your panic through the phone
“Simon, I just-” you let out a gasp, no longer in control of the tears that were starting to run down your cheeks. You double, triple checked the lock on your door was secured before on trembling legs, you slowly made your way towards the balcony doors, blood running cold when you spotted the latch undone. “I know this sounds insane but I really need you, I- I swear someone’s been following me and I think he’s outside my flat and I- I’m so scared Simon I don’t-”
“You’re alrigh’ love.” He cut off your rambling, the confidence in his voice lending you a sliver of strength for a moment. “Jus’ breathe, yeah? I’ll be righ’ there.”
True to his word, Simon is knocking at your flat door in less than four minutes, another anomaly you would have noticed had you not been in such a frantic state of mind
“It’s me love. Jus’ me.” You hear his voice say through the door, standing up on tip toes to peer through the peephole and confirm for your own peace of mind that it really truly is your knight in shining armour, hardly paying any mind to the fact that this is the first time you see him without a mask on the lower half of his face
You’re practically banging the door against the wall as you swing it open in a hurry to get him inside, grabbing him by his jacket to pull his figure closer to yours, barely giving him a chance to shut it behind him before you’re clinging to him like a lost pet whose been returned to their owner
You can hear him shushing you, a large hand coming to soothe your hair as another grabs you by the waist and holds you tighter, trying to reassure you between your sobs that you’re alright, that he’s here now, that you’re always safe with him
There’s a fleeting moment where you can’t help but think about how this isn’t you, how you’ve always been fiercely independent, how you’ve never needed to rely on others for comfort before, let alone a man you met all of two weeks ago, but the thought is gone just as quickly as it appeared, when Simon pulls back to hold your face gently in both of his hands, thumbs carefully rubbing tears off your cheeks as he looks at you with such sincerity, you couldn’t care less if you’ve known him for two weeks or two years, right now you just need someone to tell you everything is okay, that you’re not insane
He leads you towards the couch, planting you sideways across his lap as he leans your head on his shoulder and rubs a soothing hand across your back
“Now, try again, love. Tell me wha’s happened.”
And when he’s asking you so sweetly, touching you so nicely in a way no one has in who knows how long, how could you every deny him?
You tell him everything, all of it, the bizarre coincidences you can no longer explain away, the strange happenings that you cannot chalk up to forgetfulness, the odd feeling of being constantly watched you cannot shake, you tell him all of it
And Simon, he listens to it all, every concern of yours, every worry you’d had, he nods along showing you he’s listening, never interrupting you, always rubbing some part of your skin to let you know he’s here, he’s here and he’s got you
By the end of it, you’re no longer crying, your heart has begun to slow to a more normal rhythm, the goosebumps dotting your skin only a result of the large man caressing you as you avoid dribbling snot onto his jumper
“You must think I’m crazy, right? I- I even think I sound crazy.” You admit, avoiding looking at him as you pick at a loose thread on his collar
“Not at all, love.” His words have your eyes lifting to meet his, finding nothing but honesty in his steady gaze.
“W-what?”
“Said I believe you.” He reiterates, giving your hip a slight squeeze before he’s dragging his fingers down across your thigh, rubbing soothing strokes against your flesh. “Everythin’ you jus’ told me, I don’ wanna scare you bird, but I think you migh’ be righ’. Sounds like someone’s been followin’ ya.”
He must see it in your face, the way your heart practically drops to the floor at his words, because he’s gripping the meat of your thigh a little tighter, opening his mouth to continue before you can spiral further
“But you’re so smart, love. You did exactly the righ’ thing, callin’ me. You knew I wouldn’ let anythin’ happen to ya. I’m here now, I’ve got ya.”
His words are akin to stepping into a steaming warm bath at the end of a gruelling day, the exact comfort you needed in that moment, easing you slowly back into a state of calm, though you don’t feel quite out of the woods yet
“Let me take care of ya, huh? Here, follow me.” He gives your thigh one last squeeze before he’s helping you back up onto more stable legs, never going without at least on hand touching you as he guides you towards your balcony door, making a show of peering outside for any lurking dangers before he snaps the lock in place and draws the curtains shut
“C’mon, let’s check all your windows, eh? Can’t be too sure.”
And so you follow him room to room, watching him with growing gratitude as he goes from window to window, ensuring it’s properly shut and locked before moving onto the next, scanning each room for any sign of a disturbance, letting you know everything is clear each time, until there’s only one door left to go through
Simon inches the door to your bedroom open with the toe of his boot, letting it hit the wall before he steps inside, doing a full scan before he nods towards you to follow him in
You take a seat at the end of your bed as you watch him move through your space, checking your window and closing your curtains, even going as far as to open your closet and peek under the bed, something that forces a fleeting smile on your face in spite of the circumstances
“Think that’s everythin’, birdie.” He admits, coming to sit down next to you on the bed, thighs touching, his muscled arm sneaking around your shoulders to pull you into him. “My brave girl. You’ve been goin’ through all this by yourself, huh?”
“Mhm.” You confirm, feeling too exhausted after the rush of emotions and adrenaline let down to say anything more, too tired to notice the way he’s taken to calling you his all of a sudden, especially when Simon’s embrace is so warm, so inviting
“Poor bird. Must’ve been so scary, not knowing who’s out there.” He coos into your ear, brushing your hair back from your neck, letting you feel his hot breath against your skin. “Aren’t you so glad you called? That I’m ‘ere now?”
“Mhm. Thank you, Simon.” You murmur, the events of the day really catching up to you now
“You never have to thank me, love. I’m here with ya. Not goin’ anywhere.” You feel your lashes flutter shut when his chapped lips come to press a chaste kiss to your temple, as gentle as a butterflies wings as this behemoth of a man comforts you. “You jus’ let me take care of ya now, love. Let me make it all better. Make ya feel good.”
There’s a fraction of a second where your mind catches back up to you, where logic floats up to the surface of your consciousness when you feel Simon’s hand sneak under your shirt, something on the tip of your tongue about how this is only the third time you meet face to face, how you haven’t gone on a proper date yet, how you’ve only known him two weeks-
Any common sense flies out the window however when his lips connect with yours
As his calloused fingers manage to rid you of your top before tangling in your hair, your own are grasping on tightly at his collar, allowing him to take control of the kiss, to take control of the situation, to do as he’s promised and make you feel good, make you forget about everything that’s had you so on edge and allow yourself to be taken care of
Simon hasn’t steered you wrong so far, has he? He’s been nothing but kind, nothing but attentive, nothing but sweet and caring and present and-
Fuck can he kiss
Your heart is racing for an entirely different reason as his fingers reach behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it fall haphazardly amongst your sheets before he’s pulling his lips off of yours, kissing and nipping along your jaw, your neck, down your collarbone and sternum until his hot breath is tickling one of your nipples and he sucks it gently into his mouth, teeth playfully skimming the raised bud
You can’t help the way you melt like putty in his hands, unknowingly as touch starved as he is, unable to hold back the sounds of your enjoyment when his other hand comes up to tweak your neglected breast, squeezing and pinching until it’s as taut as the one he’s still slobbering all over
Your fingers are pulling at the fabric of his jumper, arching into his touch and gasping when he lets your breast go with a ‘plop’, before his mouth is trailing wet kisses down your sternum, down your stomach, before his skilled fingers are tugging down your pants
“No panties, hm?” You never could have imagined his voice could be deeper than it already was, but the sound of his gravelly accent has chills running up your spine, blush deepening when you see the dark look in his eyes as he peers down at your bare, weeping slit
You have half a mind to explain that you haven’t had time to run to the shops and replace all your missing knickers, but quickly lose any sense of time and place when his broad shoulders are pushing themselves between your thighs, opening them up for his head to drop down and his lips to wrap around your throbbing clit
You can feel him smirk against your folds at the sound you let out, something between a moan and a gasp, before he’s pulling out more delicious noises from you with his tongue alone
“Mmm, you really do taste as good as you look.” He murmurs against your dripping folds, eyes dancing with mischief before his lips are on you again
You feel like your entire being has been pulled apart and put back together in the blink of an eye, your would be stalker having you fearing for your life, and now Simon having you holding on for dear life
You can both hear and feel him groaning against your pussy, licking up your arousal, probing his skilled tongue around your entrance before plunging it as deep as the muscle will go, reminiscent of a man starved as he devours you from the inside out, with no sign of being satiated any time soon
“Simon!” You plead, toes curling, legs shaking. You can hardly believe this is happening, that you’re on the precipice of cumming on this man’s tongue so soon, when suddenly his thumb sneaks down and slides across your clit engorged clit, rubbing steady circles until you’re seeing stars behind your eyelids, eyes rolling to the back of your head and his name the only word you know as you fall headfirst off that cliff known as ecstasy
You’re gasping for breath, still coming back to yourself when he finally pulls himself away, licking his lips as though this was a five star meal he’s just tasted, the look in his eyes telling you he’s likely to be a returning customer
With the way he’s brought you to orgasm faster than any vibrator ever has, you’re hardly in any place to protest when you hear the sound of his belt being undone, his zipper being pulled down, a ringing in your ears when your eyes land on his throbbing, erect member
You barely get a chance to gasp at its size before Simon is on you again, strong hands dragging you further up the mattress before he’s kissing you senseless yet again
You can feel him pumping his cock with one hand as he takes his time tasting you, having you taste yourself on his tongue
He pulls one of your legs up around his waist, opening your centre up to him before you can feel the head of his prick sliding through your folds, teasing your sensitive clit until you’re practically shaking, rolling your hips up against him
He’s swallowing your gasp when he notches himself at your entrance, wasting no time before he’s sinking himself inch by devastating inch, plunging further and further than you thought was possible, until he’s all the way in, hips flush with yours as he’s sheathed himself completely inside you, a perfect fit
While sweet might have been a word you used for the Simon who talks to you on the phone at all hours, who buys you coffee when your cards decline, you cannot bring yourself to believe that that same sweet Simon is the same man who begins thrusting in and out of you with such vigour, such force, it knocks the breath right out of your lungs as your headboard begins banging against the wall
“Fuck!” He’s grunting in your ear, the sounds of skin slapping and your wetness squelching echoing in the room. “Fuckin’ knew it. Knew you’d be this tight. So warm, so wet for me. Perfect fuckin’ pussy.”
“Simon! Oh, Simon!” His name is the only word your lips can make sense of, the only thing your mind can understand. You’re already headed towards another climax, your body feeling like an instrument he’s spent years mastering the art of playing
“Yeah, you gonna come again, pretty bird? Come on my cock? Just for me?” He’s picking up his pace, intent of meeting you there with his own release, grip tightening on your waist as he plunges in and out of you, feeling your tight walls increasingly gripping his cock. “Say it. Say it’s just for me. Say it.”
“It- it’s for you. Just for you, Simon! You!”
“Fuckin’ righ’ it is. My perfect girl.” He praises, sucking dark purple circles onto your neck, fingers unrelenting in their teasing against your clit. “You want it, pretty girl? Then fuckin’ take it.”
Your vision goes white, body practically going numb the pleasure is so all consuming as it shoots through every nerve ending and back, every star in the galaxy appearing before your eyes as you come on his cock. You’re so lost in your orgasm, you hardly notice when he groans out your own name, hips stilling as he shoots his load into you, rutting helplessly against your overused cunt to drag out every second of ecstasy, making sure you take very last drop he has to give you
If you were exhausted before, you’re practically dead to the world now, uncaring that Simon doesn’t even pull out his softening member as he maneuvers the two of you under the covers, smoothing your hair back as he kisses all over your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips
He rubs soothing hands up and down your naked back, telling you how good you did, how good you are for him, how good he’ll be for you, before he’s reaching to turn your lamp off, casting the two of you into darkness as sleep fights to drag you under
You’re on the brink of slumber, too spent to really think about anything that’s transpired tonight, though just conscious enough to feel the smallest of alarms try and go off in the back of your foggy mind at Simon’s words, the last of your self preservation instincts trying to weave its way to the front of your mind, waving the red flag as high as it’ll go
“Good thing I came over soon as you called. Who knows what could’ve happened.”
Your eyes snap open
You’d never told Simon where you lived
~~~~~
If you’ve made it this far, I’d like to offer you a sticker of appreciation
Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! Thank you for your patience on this fic, I cannot even tell you how many times I felt like this story was ready to be posted, but I’d reread it and wouldn’t be satisfied with how it was. This is probably the draft I’ve spent the most time on, and so again I really appreciate the patience in waiting for the upload
But here she is!!! And I hope she was worth the wait
I know this is different from the usual fluff I post, both with a darker Ghost and smut still not being my forte, but I really do sincerely hope this part 2 was everything you guys hoped for! I had a lot of fun writing it, turned into one of my longest ones, and now I’m excited to get to my inbox and answer more requests from you lovely folks
- M 🫶🏻
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#cod simon ghost riley#cod simon riley#readwritealldayallnight
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OIKAWA AS YOUR MUTUAL THAT YOU HATE IRL
oikawa x gender neutral reader
you and toru have been mutuals on twitter for almost a year as you both run and met through twice fan accounts. you talk to him more than your irl friends atp. on the other hand you and oikawa don’t get along irl, as you’re both on opposing college teams and constantly competing for nationals. since then he’s always picked on you at games, but that all changes when you finally decide to meet your favorite oomf in person.
notes — karasuno is a mixed gender team in this to keep it gn, and instead of highschool these are college teams / the messages in the first section are like throughout the week before you two meet up
ooc idk? it’s been a while. assume everyone is 20ish, i cud make this a cute mini au one day but rn i’m lazy so this is fast paced
also here’s the soobin version i wrote a while ago
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__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
Your stomach was swarming with nerves as you made your way inside the cafe, the scent of freshly made coffee and sweaty college students from the stadium surrounding you as you slid into line. Admittedly, you never thought you'd get the chance to meet Toru, he was just your cute internet friend and nothing would ever happen.
That was, until today.
It was a bit embarrassing that you stared at the selfie he'd sent for longer than you should've. It was difficult to comprehend the boy you'd been talking to for so long was hiding such a pretty figure. Even with the emoji hiding his face you could tell he was cute.
You eye the display of cakes and decide to pick one up for the both of you as Toru had already promised to get you guys coffee. You felt bad going empty handed after finally meeting him.
You reach down to grab onto the last chocolate slice and your hands meet another. Usually, you'd let it slide and choose something else even though you touched it first. But, when you looked to your left and locked eyes with your self-proclaimed enemy, Toru Oikawa, those thoughts washed away. You were going to fight for that slice of mediocre cake.
"Not you again," Oikawa sighed, tugging the slice towards him, "Don't be obnoxious."
"Says you," you scoff, tightly grabbing onto the plate, "Why are you always so rude towards me? Is it because we annihilated you in the game?”
"You were just lucky," He grins, his large hands tugging the cake closer towards him, "Choose something else.”
"You choose something else. Losers don’t deserve nice cake! I got to it first!”
"Ok and?" Oikawa questions, like the little shit he is.
"Fine, just take it," you sigh, not wanting to make Toru wait. Good Toru, not this evil one beside you. But as you let go of the cake and step back you notice Oikawa’s outfit. He was adorned in clothes that oddly resembled the photo Toru had sent you.
"You made me lose my appetite," Oikawa mutters, dropping the cake and shuffling past you. You shake off the familiarity and make your way towards the back. Most men wore the same clothes, it was nothing.
__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
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__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
You eye the walls of the cafe until you come across the wooden tables from the photo.
You start scouring the seats for someone that resembled Toru but the only person in your vicinity was Oikawa.
You inch your way closer towards him with morbid curiosity, hoping that your suspicions would be proved wrong. But as you got closer the drinks on the table and location of your rival were too similar to the photo Toru had sent you.
Unfortunately, Oikawa locked eyes with you.
"What do you want? Are you here to apologize?" he questions, playing with the straw of his drink as he barely gave you a glance.
"Toru? From twitter?" you tentatively ask, your voice hoarse from the nerves. This couldn't be happening.
Oikawa pauses.
"What?" he slowly asks, turning to look at you, "What did you call me?"
"Oh my god," you gasp, "Are you ruluvyeon?"
"What..," he starts, catching on, "You're urmomoyn?"
Your username sounds foreign on his tongue but it was him. Oikawa was your Toru. Evil Toru was your sweet Toru.
Your beloved Toru was the same guy you've been on bad terms with all year. Just your luck.
Before Oikawa could comprehend anything or you could answer, you decide to do the most mature thing anyone would do in that situation.
You run.
And he doesn't follow.
__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
a week later
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__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
The street was dark apart from the flickering lamps on the side of the walkway as you made your way towards Oikawa - or well Toru’s - house. It still felt odd.
Your palms felt clammy and you were clad in your pajamas, in too much of a rush to change. Which was a decision you were regretting since the flimsy fabric did nothing to protect you against the wind.
Before you knew it you spotted the complex Toru supposedly lived in, and as you walked closer you could see his tall figure waiting for you in the dark. It would've been rather creepy if not for the fact he was drowning in a large hoodie and sweats with a beanie tugged on his hair.
His arms were crossed across his chest as he rocked back and forth due to the cold.
You swallowed your nerves and made your way towards him, not quite knowing what to do with your hands other than give him an awkward wave as he spotted you.
"Hey," he breathed out, gesturing for you to follow him inside.
The warmth of his apartment was far more welcoming than the freezing night. He shut the door behind you both and tugged off his beanie as he gestured for you to sit down.
"Hi," you greeted back as you sank down on his couch. The entire place felt very lived in.
Toru’s face scrunched up into an sly smile.
"I missed you," you added, "I'm glad you reached out."
"I am too," he hummed, reaching out to take his hand into yours. His palms felt warm against your own freezing ones.
"What was your last text about?" you question as his thumb rubs circles on your palm.
"I don't know what you’re talking about?" he smiles, "What did I say?"
"You know damn well what you said," you huff.
"Okay, well I meant it," he answers, "I convinced myself to try and forget you since you were an online friend. But having you right in front of me changed things."
"Changed things how?" you say, warmth creeping up your cheeks.
"Well, for one I can actually see you," Oikawa notes, "And do things like this," he adds, his voice going quiet as he reaches over to push a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "And, instead of fantasizing about kissing you, I could actually do it."
"You fantasized about it?" you ask in disbelief, still flustered at the touch of his hand so close to your face "You didn't even know what I looked like!"
"You were kinda just a blob in my mind," he shrugs, a smile tilting his lips at your offended face.
"A cute blob though, right?”
"Of course."
“You never imagined me as my icon?”
“Only when you changed it to Gojo.”
“Oh fuck off,” you laugh.
"So, you really don't hate me?" you muse, playing with his fingers, "It's so weird seeing you be so gentle."
"Would you rather me go back to being rude?" he replies, "But I really don't. I feel a shitty at how I used to treat you. You just get me riled up.”
"It's okay, I did the same," you assure, patting his hand, "Let's start fresh."
"Okay," he agrees, clasping your hand in between his, "Let's go out."
"Straight to the point?"
"I don't think we should waste any more time," he replies, “And my entire team thinks I made you up.”
“I need to make it up to you,” you sigh.
"Kiss me and consider yourself forgiven," Oikawa easily grins, looking at you with the usual look of arrogance he sends you through the net when he wishes you a terrible game. But this time it looks different. Like he wants you to win.
“Alright,” you manage to croak out, your throat closing up at your false confidence.
Honestly, you were qute irritated with yourself on how you treated Oikawa for the past few months. You desperately wanted to move on and start fresh.
Oikawa let out a surprised laugh and you wanted to ingrain the sound into your mind. He brought up his free palm to his mouth and let out a small giggle into it.
“Go ahead then,” he smiles.
"Okay," you manage to say, taking a deep breath.
"Any day now,” Oikawa smirks.
"Shut up, I need a moment-," you started, but were interrupted as he reached over and yanked on your top to slot his lips against yours. He stumbled and you both fell backwards onto the couch as he caught himself above you, both knees outside your hips as you snaked your hands around his waist.
He stared at your for a mere moment in disbelief before leaning down to capture your lips with his. His lips felt pillowy against your own and his warm body right on top of yours made it feel just as good.
You had to remind yourself not to laugh into the kiss.
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#oikawa toru x reader#oikawa smau#oikawa x gender neutral reader#toru oikawa x male reader#oikawa x y/n#oikawa x reader#oikawa x you#oikawa tooru x you#oikawa toru smau#oikawa tooru x reader#oikawa texts#toru oikawa x reader#toru oikawa#haikyuu oikawa#oikawa headcanons#haikyuu smau#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x reader
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just alhaitham realizing he wants a baby with you... cw: pregnancy, children
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alhaitham is in the middle of reading, spending his lunch hour tucked away in a quiet corner puspa cafe when he feels a poke at his arm.
he slides his headphones off, looking over to see a child standing next to him, clutching something to her chest.
“excuse me– mister scribe sir?”
the scribe sighs, tucking his book away. “just alhaitham is fine.”
the child blushes furiously. “oh, um, mister alhaitham sir, my teacher says that your job is reading. could you read this for me please?”
that was an incredibly juvenile description of his job, but he doesn't correct her. the girl slides what alhaitham recognizes as the children’s book that tighnari had written (and collei had illustrated) to teach the basics of forest safety. the storytelling was mediocre and the illustrations were average, but he supposed they were sufficient enough for children who had no higher education.
alhaitham glances at the clock. he still has a half hour left of his break, and he was nothing if not an advocate for educating young minds.
—
“the lesson is to always be prepared when traveling through the rainforest,” alhaitham explains, closing the book. “there’s always a high probability that you’ll run into fungi, especially if you're on foot like little cyno was. you’d do well to add a variety of antitoxins to your first aid kit.”
the girl considers this, brows pulled into a furrow as she sips at the sunsettia juice he’d ordered for her.
“why didn’t little cyno just go around the fungi when he saw them? then he wouldn't have gotten the sports.”
“the spores,” alhaitham corrects. “but your point stands. common sense is perhaps the most effective survival tool.”
children, with their inquisitive and imaginative minds, were adequate problem solvers. they didn't overthink things, instead utilizing a simple, pragmatic way of thinking.
he wouldn't mind raising a little scholar of his own with you.
he’d thought a normal amount about having a child before. typical musings, like when he would have one (after school, after securing a decent job). or what their names would be (esfir for a boy, laila for a girl). who would bear his children (the only person he’d ever considered was you).
but these aren’t idle musings anymore. this time, the idea hits him full force, quickly spiraling into a hope. a dream for the future.
a boy with his eyes and your smile. a girl with your hair colour and his nose. how you’d raise them together, how they’d grow to be intelligent, inquisitive, creative, and endlessly compassionate.
“sweetheart, there you are!” a relieved voice exclaims.
the girl sitting across from him perks up as her mother runs up to the table, her smile widening. “mama! mister alhaitham read me a book!”
“i'm so sorry she interrupted your lunch, sir,” the frantic mother looks sheepish as she apologizes, but alhaitham dismisses it with a wave of his hand.
“it’s alright. if anything, this experience has been rather enlightening.”
_____
“that's quite the stack,” you comment mildly when your husband enters the bedroom with an armful of textbooks. “which new topic have you been intrigued with this week?”
alhaitham sets the books down on the nightstand and answers, “conception.”
his answer is spoken simply, casually, like he’s talking about the weather and not one of the most life-altering decisions you could make as a couple.
“conception,” you repeat slowly. “like…”
“you’re a doctor. you’re aware of the biological process behind it.”
“of course i am,” you say, suddenly feeling flustered. “i just– we’ve never talked about this before, haitham.”
your husband sighs, walking around to your side of the bed and sitting by your legs. “well…i want to talk about it.”
seconds pass. seconds that almost feel like a lifetime as you watch each other, looking for any unspoken signs of hesitation.
“it’s up to you,” he finally says, gently placing a hand on your ankle. “it’s your body, you’re the one who would be carrying our baby for nine months. if you’re not ready–”
you don't need to hear the rest, crawling over to cup his face in your hands and press a soft kiss to his lips. “i'm ready. we’re ready.”
his eyes immediately brighten, and he momentarily leaves your grasp to reach across the bed to grab the topmost book from his stack. “there are certain positions that we can try to increase our chances of conceiving. according to studies conducted in fontaine, this one has an effectiveness of 89.5%. it’s called a mating press…”
you wish you could say it’s the first time he’s propositioned you with educational literature.
“wait, you didn’t ask me,” you giggle, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly.
he pauses. “will you try this position with me?”
“no, smartass. ask me to have a baby with you.”
your husband grins, hooking his hands under your ass to pull you into his lap. you gasp as he does so, his head dipping down to the crook of your neck. he says your name, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“will you let me put a baby in you, dearest?”
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Honestly, some things I look forward to experiencing in the United States when I inevitably go is the normal mediocre stuff. I mean, obviously the biggest biggest things I most look forward to are the things I'll actually plan my trip around (Monterey Bay Aquarium I will see you) but I dunno, I wanna see what else there is. I want to go to a Rainforest Cafe. I want to go to a Wendy's. I want to go to a Build-A-Bear and gawk at the prices. I wonder if Applebee's knows what gluten free means
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This piece based on the Overlord Husk AU created by @celestialalpacaron
Husk and Angel's attires are based on those worn by Frank Sinatra and Vivian Blaine from Guys and Dolls, the 1955 musical film.
For other clothes and that pinup poster, I took inspiration from other old America musical films. Surely one could easily recognize that red dress and feather headpiece :)))
Drawing timelapse
Tools: pencil, M&G gel pen and Leningrad watercolor.
A lot of mistakes, but at least this is less mediocre than my firt HuskerDust fanart. Still nowhere as good as I pictured it in my head. I felt like I did @lilshroomboi's Hazbin Cafe AU dirty by my first work. But rest assure @lilshroomboi I will work on a better fanart that does justice to your beautiful AU.
#huskerdust#hazbin hotel#overlord husk#angel dust x husk#angel dust#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel husk#husker hazbin hotel#husker x angel dust
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Santiago and the rest of the coven considering Louis to be pretentious is SO funny. Theatre kids dressed all in black being like UGH this guy going to cafes and salons to meet artists 🙄
You know Santiago is going to tell the other coven members that he saw Louis's photography and it was MEDIOCRE
#santiago x louis#theatre des vampires#interview with the vampire#iwtv spoilers#vampterview#iwtv posting
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