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rambling-at-midnight · 3 months ago

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omg a part 2????

i loved it so much!!!

Ahh I'm so glad you liked it!!! It's my first Jason x reader fic :) Here's a part 2!

Pros and Cons of Midnight Snacks (Part 2)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Civilian!Reader

Summary: Now it’s time for a meet-ugly-ish with some dude named Jason. Also, you see the Red Hood again.

Word count: 6.3k (holy shit)

You’re not crazy, right? It’s weird that the library is completely empty because it closes in two hours and the weather is actually nice outside for once, and some random dude wanders in and sets up two seats down from you. He’s not even here to study; he pulled out a sci-fi novel as soon as he sat down.

Who comes to a GCU campus library to read recreationally? The seats are uncomfortable and plastic. And the sun is shining. Everyone else is outside soaking up the Vitamin D.

Honestly, you’re mostly surprised the chair he’s on didn’t snap as soon as he sat. The dude is huge. Football player huge. Shouldn’t he be at practice, instead of forcing the chair to make the most irritating squeaking noises known to man every time he moves an inch?

You grit your teeth and put on your headphones, but you can still hear the poor chair’s dying lamentations, so you turn on an instrumental playlist that hopefully won’t distract you too much from studying.

You let yourself stew over the annoyance until your stomach growls so loud you hear it over the soft music. He has the good grace not to look at you, but you definitely see him pause.

Okay, you’ll call it even. This is what you get for running to the library right after six hours of classes. You need to cement the knowledge in your mind while it’s still fresh, and if that means you have to forego lunch…

He’s still there two hours later when the closing time alarm goes off. It’s a shrill old-school bell, the kind no one can ignore, and he jumps like he’s never heard it in his life. The poor chair finally gives up. He tumbles to the ground.

You look over in case he needs any help, but he’s scrambling for the book, face bright red.

If he is a football player, you wouldn’t be surprised that he’s never heard the bell before. That sort rarely stays this late at the library—if they enter at all.

He rushes out. You pack up a little more methodically. All that’s left for you to look forward to tonight is trying to study in your apartment, but you never have much luck.

He’s outside the library on his phone when you walk out. Maybe waiting for a ride? You’re a little on edge from the events of two days ago, so you watch him out of the corner of your eye as you walk away.

Thankfully, he doesn’t follow you.

At least the library closes earlier on Wednesdays, 6 pm instead of 9:30. You don’t know why. It’s still a weekday. But it forces you out while the sun’s still shining, which is probably a good thing.

Within two minutes of the twenty-minute walk home, your hip hurts. By the ten-minute mark, you’re trying not to limp.

Despite your better judgment, you keep your gaze turned to the rooftops, even though you know the vigilantes are nocturnal. It’s stupid to want to see a flash of red helmet, anyway. The Red Hood probably saves hundreds of people every week; there’s no way he would remember you.

Of course, when you finally get back, there are the stairs to contend with.

Your cat, that ungrateful little beast, beeps at you furiously for being gone so long. Never mind that your roommate works nights, so at most the cat’s been alone for an hour. He makes a break for the hallway, and you box the doorway with your legs and slam the door closed against your hip as you slip through.

Your injury explodes with pain, but at least the cat doesn’t get out. Ungrateful little beast. As if he isn’t fed and loved enough.

You finish slipping through the doorway and just stand for a moment listening to the blood rushing through your ears. Damn, but that hurt.

In the bathroom mirror, you hike up the hem of your shirt and check the state of your injury.

All in all, it could have been much worse. The bullet scooped out a fair chunk of skin, but it was just a surface wound. There’s no fresh blood on the gauze, and when you change the wrappings, the skin is pink and raw but starting to scab. It scooped out a chunk and left a trail of bruising, but you got off fairly lightly, all things considered.

The GCPD released the robber’s mugshot yesterday morning. In the picture, the man’s eyes were so swollen from your pepper spray he could hardly open them.

You preferred the bullet, honestly.

You try in vain to study a bit more, but even after you take more painkillers, you’re not in the mood. You feed your cat, then curl up on the couch to watch a couple episodes of the show you’re currently in the middle of.

That was the first time you see the huge guy, but it’s certainly not the last.

You wouldn’t notice him so much if he wasn’t the size of a damn refrigerator. He’s gotta be a linebacker for the Knights, but he’s not on their roster. You looked it up after the third time he wandered into the library just a couple minutes after you. It’s probably not updated yet, but you see him so often, you’d like to know his name.

Also, he’d bleached a patch of hair right at the front of his head—was that a trend now, or something?—so it wasn’t hard to spot him.

On Saturday, your feelings shift from mild annoyance and curiosity to a sinking sort of dread when you notice him at the coffeeshop you always visit on the weekends. The employees know you by name and use it to call out your order, so now he knows it, as long as he’s paying attention.

You think he might be.

You don’t want to be that person. Not everything in the world revolves around you, obviously. But you might still be shaken from what happened on Monday, because the thought wiggles in the back of your brain: what if you have a stalker?

You try to tell yourself that it’s just paranoia. GCU isn’t that big a campus, after all, and there are only so many places in the city that are: A. close to campus, B. reasonably priced, and C. comfortable to work in. You’ve run into classmates here before, and you don’t have a monopoly on the library or this coffeeshop. Just because he shows up at the same time you do doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He might be establishing a schedule that just so happens to line up with yours.

But, you have to admit, it is easier for stalkers to stalk people when they know their regular schedule.

You keep a watchful eye out and are pretty good about keeping off the streets after dark, but a week and a half later finds you stranded an hour’s walk from your apartment. The buses worked for two days, then shut down again, and you foolishly believed that following the detour that said would get you home would actually get you home. You don’t want to call an Uber because traffic would make the ride longer than the walk and bankrupt you in the process. Same reason you can’t call anyone to pick you up unless you waited the two hours until rush hour dies down.

Walking is, unfortunately, the best option.

So you clutch your trusty pepper spray and prepare yourself for a long night of looking over your shoulder and ignoring the pain in your side. The wound has mostly closed, although the bruising has gotten worse.

Three minutes later, you hear the roar of a motorcycle followed by angry car honks. You barely pay it any mind until the motorcycle pulls up next to you and doesn't pass.

You keep walking, avoiding eye contact. Maybe ignoring them will dissuade the rider from catcalling you.

It doesn't work. "Hey," the rider says, and it's only because the voice is mechanically distorted, recognizable only because of how many videos of him that you won't admit to looking up the last week, that you look at him. "What are you doing?" asks the Red Hood.

"What are you doing?" you counter. He's blocking the flow of traffic talking to you.

The Red Hood looks over his shoulder, flips off the person honking behind him, and steers his motorcycle onto the sidewalk. He drives fast, and you flinch in case he tries to run you over, but he screeches to a halt at the last second.

"Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks," he says casually, like you two meet up often.

"I've been staying out of trouble," you say.

"Not tonight?"

"No. That wasn't my fault, though. I took the Southwest bus because it was supposed to connect with the L line, but all the signs they posted were a lie, apparently, because—" You cut yourself off. "Never mind, I'm sure you don't care. Point is, I'm walking home. It's not too far."

"It's about an hour," he points out. "How's your bullet wound? Will it object to that walk?"

"I'll be fine."

He pats the back of his motorcycle seat. "Hop on. I'll drive you."

You take a couple hasty steps back. It may not be a white van, but you know better than to follow candy into someone's vehicle. "Oh, no, thanks. Traffic's pretty bad right now."

You get the sense he's smiling when he says, "I bet I can get you back faster than walking." If only he wasn't wearing the stupid shiny helmet, you would be able to read his expressions better.

"Really, I'm okay. I'm sure you have better things to do than drive me home."

"Helping people is literally my job," is his response. "I have to make sure you get home safely. So either you get on the back of my bike, or I follow you the whole walk back to your apartment."

You know a losing battle when you see it. As a general rule of thumb, it's usually smart not to argue with the dude carrying at least two guns. "Don't kidnap me," you order before slinging your leg over the seat.

He chuckles. It's the first time you've ever heard him laugh, and it makes him sound so much younger. "You can't ride like that."

"Like what?"

He cranes his neck to look back at you. There's at least six inches between both your bodies. You clutch the sides of the seat with both your hands, hoping he doesn't take off with such a lurch that you topple off the back. "I drive fast. You'll have to hold on."

"I am holding on."

"To me."

You've only met the man twice. You're pretty sure clinging to someone's back is at least a third-meeting type of touch, but he reaches back. The Red Hood snakes a hand nearly twice the size of yours into the crook of your knee, then yanks you to him. You shoot forward with a strangled yelp and catch yourself on his back.

You've never before understood the phrase 'wall of muscle,' but you get it now.

He is huge. And strong. You gingerly put your hands on his shoulders. That's not an inappropriate touch, you think.

He has to live at the gym, right?

"You're still not holding on," he chides. "I don't have a helmet for you, so you really shouldn't fall off."

You swallow and move your hands, but he's too thick for you to link your hands around his front. So you fist both of them into his jacket. It presses your bodies tight against each other from shoulder to thighs. Through the layers his body radiates heat, but you shiver.

"Going," is all the warning you get.

Then you're gone; the bike shudders beneath you, then takes off like a jet.

You can't catch your breath. This must be what riding a dragon feels like, is your first nonsensical thought, a side effect of your roommate's obsession with Game of Thrones.

The bike roars beneath you, but you can hardly hear it over the rush of wind and the pound of blood in your ears. You can't see much with the wind drying out your eyes, so you press your head against the Red Hood's back and squint to one side. Cars and street lamps blur together into a stream of mismatched lights and colors.

The Red Hood drives fast. He weaves between lanes, runs through red lights, cuts onto the sidewalk. A couple bikers shake their fists at him when he passes them in the bike lane. A lot of cars honk at the two of you.

Judging by the way his shoulders shake with laughter, he likes pissing them off. You have to admit, the feeling is a little intoxicating.

You can't hear the sound, but your front is plastered to his back. Even with the layers of his suit and leather jacket, you can feel the vibrations of sound deep within his chest. He has a fairly deep voice, after all, unless the helmet changes that.

No less than ten minutes later, he parks abruptly. You lift your head, blinking moisture back into your eyes, and stare dumbly at your apartment building.

He'd actually brought you back.

Maybe he really was reformed.

You stumble off the bike onto unsteady legs. The Red Hood kicks his stand into place and rests against the bike, leaning with elbows on his handlebars. Like he expects a Midwest goodbye. And you find yourself dawdling.

Maybe you want one, too.

"Thanks for the ride," you finally say awkwardly.

"Anytime," he says, and you laugh, thinking it's a joke, but he doesn't. After a brief awkward pause, the Red Hood tries, "So how have you been?" as if you're old pals meeting up for brunch, and the question is so ridiculous coming from a sort-of-reformed crime lord slash serial killer that you respond without thinking.

"Pretty good, except I think I may have a stalker."

His helmet doesn't do a great job translating whatever sound he makes in response to that. It comes out as a crackle. "What?"

"I've noticed this dude recently showing up wherever I go," you say. "But I think it's just a coincidence. Sorry. That was a bad joke." It wasn't, but you don't want to accuse someone without proof of stalking you. If he's not, you'll seem self-obsessed. If he is, then he knows that you know, and it's not like the GCPD will do anything. One of your friends from your hometown had a stalker for literal years, and the police never did anything, even after he sent her death threats. They said there wasn't enough proof to make an arrest then, so someone showing up at the same places you are definitely isn't enough proof now.

The Red Hood tilts his head. "Does he make you uncomfortable?"

"You don't need to beat him up or anything on my behalf," you say. "I mean, you've seen me with a bottle of pepper spray. I'm pretty sure I can handle myself."

"I know you can," he says. You can hear the smile in his voice, like he finds something about the situation funny. "And I'm pretty sure that you know that I'm going to check this out anyway."

"No," you say, surprising yourself with your firmness. You can't rely on vigilantes to solve all your problems for you. "Seriously, it's okay. Thanks for the ride. Maybe I'll see you around."

"I'm counting on it," he calls as you walk away.

And he's right. Two days later finds you at the gas station at ten-thirty at night. You don't want to see him, per se. You're definitely not looking over your shoulder at the slightest sound. You definitely didn't check the parking lot for a notorious red motorcycle on your way in, and you certainly aren't taking peeks out the window every time headlights pass by on the street.

You're just... curious.

Maybe.

But you have absolutely no warning, not even a suspicion that someone is behind you, when you reach for a box of Cheez-Its. Someone else's hand gets there first and you nearly jump out of your socks.

"Hey," the Red Hood wheezes. He's clutching his side like he has a cramp. "Question: if I buy these for you, will you patch me up?"

"What?"

"I may have been cut," he admits. Judging by the angle of his hunch, it's a little more serious than just a 'cut'. "So: do we have a deal?"

The thought occurs to you, as you help him up five flights of stairs to your apartment, that you're escorting a strange man into your place of residence. You haven't even given your roommate a heads-up, though you're pretty sure tomorrow's his night off.

Sure enough, the only person there to greet you when you walk in is your cat. As per usual, he tries to escape. The Red Hood gently but firmly ushers him inside with his foot with such ease he must have one of his own. "It's cute," he says, still clutching his side.

"Thanks," you say. "He always tries to get out, but if he actually escapes then he just freezes in the hallway until I bring him back inside." Then you realize that you're discussing your cat, of all things, with the Red Hood. You clear your throat and say, "Let me take a look at you."

The crime lord and cat trail after you into the bathroom. It gets a little cramped because the Red Hood's about as small as a fridge is small, but you two figure out a passable system: he's too tall, even while sitting down, and you don't want to bend in half while you stitch him. So you sit on the toilet, he stands in front of you, and your cat jumps on top of his leather jacket on the counter to observe and judge. Luckily, the suture kit is still in the bathroom from when you thought you would have to stitch yourself up, so it's not long before you're instructing him to lift up the hem of his shirt so you can see the damage.

You hiss between your teeth at the sight. Someone grazed his side with a knife, by the looks of it, but the wound is deep. It might go all the way to his subcutaneous tissue.

After you clean it off, you're sure that it does. "You call this a cut?"

"I've had worse," he says gruffly.

"And you're still alive?" You squint at him.

He huffs like that's funny.

"They basically cut you in two! I don't know if I can fix this. I've never stitched someone up before!"

"What do you mean?" He tilts his head. "You stitched yourself up, remember? You told me you would."

Shit. Of all the ways to stick your foot in your mouth—

"It wasn't that bad," you say weakly.

“It looked pretty bad.”

“It just looked bad because I was wearing a light colored shirt. Don’t worry; I’ve learned my lesson.”

The Red Hood scratches under your cat’s chin. “About wearing light colored clothing, or about getting shot?”

You’re trying to thread the suture needle, but the stupid thread won’t cooperate. “Hmm?”

“Which lesson did you learn?”

“The former, mostly. Believe it or not, ‘try not to get shot’ is something most people, including me, know intuitively.”

"Let me see."

"Yeah, right," you say, "my apartment's basically a strip club, isn't it? First your shirt's coming up, then mine. Absolutely—" You slap his hand away— "Not. I'm fine. Now hold still while I stab you."

The process goes by quickly. He stands like a statue the whole time, like he's used to the pain of getting stitches. Considering his profession, he probably is.

Actually, you can see a couple healed-over scars on his torso just from the small bit of skin he's revealed by pulling up his shirt. And, you're pretty sure, a perfectly defined six-pack, but that's none of your business.

"I don't have the fancy dissolving sutures, unfortunately," you say while you tie off the thread. "These should come out in about a week."

"Yeah, I know," he grunts, letting his shirt fall back down. And you're not disappointed. At all. "Same time next week, then?"

"What?"

"To get them out."

"Uh." Your brain stalls out. You'd been operating under the assumption that this was just another freak coincidental run-in.

Is it just you, or is the Red Hood looking to make a friend out of you? Or maybe just a free pseudo-surgeon?

"Sure," you say. It's not like you can stop him, really.

"Thanks," he says, stroking your cat one more time. Then he nudges the pest off his jacket and shrugs it on, even though there's not really a need for it. The weather's been pretty mild the last week.

You walk him out the door. He pauses in the hallway, turns, and says, "By the way, what's your name?"

You tilt your head and tell it to him.

"Nice to meet you," he says. Then he walks away.

You watch him walk down the hallway until your cat escapes, and then you have to chase him. You're pretty sure the Red Hood sees it, because low-pitched laughter hits your ears as you gather the little bastard up, but when you look, the vigilante's gone.

"God, I hope he's up to date on his tetanus shot."

You find yourself at the coffee shop the next morning, determined not to let a buff bookworm change your routine. You're the first customer, and they have your order ready by the time you finish setting up your stuff on a small table in the corner of the shop, far from where the line will build up when more people trickle in.

Like clockwork, the bookworm wanders in just a couple minutes after you do, orders two coffees, and settles down across the room with his front to you.

Every time you glance up, he's utterly focused on his book. He's probably not watching you. Right?

Fifteen minutes later, the coffees untouched, he stands up. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he picks one up, approaches the counter, and...

Walks right past it.

Walks in your direction.

You stare blatantly, and he holds your gaze with a set jaw and something a little challenging in his gaze.

He's walking to you.

The coffee cup slams on the table, splashing a little over the edge, and you jump to move your laptop away from the liquid.

"Shit, sorry," the bookworm says. He runs away.

You stare until you realize he's grabbing napkins and hurrying back. At least ten, even though the spill's pretty small, and he piles them all onto the table.

His face gets redder the longer you watch without saying anything.

Once he's absolutely sure your laptop is safe from the couple drops he spilled, he balls them all into one large fist and rushes out, "I'm sorry—I was supposed to meet my brother here, but he canceled, and your drink cup's empty, so I was just wondering if you wanted this one? It's a little warm, but..."

"But free is good," you say, deciding to put him out his misery. And he certainly looks miserable rambling in front of you. Like he's mortified for some reason. "Um, thanks. What..."

"Just an iced coffee. Probably watered down."

You take a sip, just to be polite. It is watered down, but he didn't add any milk to it, so that's probably a good thing. "Thanks..." You tilt the cup to look at the name written on the side. "Jason?"

"Yep." He nods. He's still standing in front of you, like he wants to be invited to sit, but you have a lot of work to do, and he's a complete stranger, and all his stuff is still on his table across the room.

Something clatters behind the counter. You both turn in time to see the two baristas duck out of sight, whispering furiously. Probably about the spectacle you two are making.

"You go to GCU's campus library a lot, right?" Jason asks suddenly.

"Yeah, I do. So do you." You don't phrase it like a question.

"Yeah," he says. "It's peaceful to read in there. Quieter than my apartment."

"Okay," you say slowly. You're really not interested in this conversation, but you don't want to be rude.

He must understand you, though, because he rubs the back of his head and steps backwards, mumbling something about getting back to his book.

Jason's brother never does end up meeting him. You tell yourself that's why you keep glancing at him. Once or twice, you two peek at each other at the same time, and you always look away first, face hot like he's caught you doing something wrong.

The next time you go to the library, it's packed. The weather has turned, so students have nothing better to do than prepare for their finals. You head to the quiet floor, slowly losing hope that you'll find a seat.

A head snaps up the moment you walk in, dark-haired with a striking streak of white at his forehead. Jason.

Something like relief passes over his face, and he waves you over.

"I saved your seat," he whispers, dragging his bag off of the chair.

"Thanks," you say, actually touched. "You didn't have to."

He shrugs. "You're my reading buddy."

The next day, he's sitting at the library's entrance when you walk in. Jason shakes his head. "All the seats were already taken when I got here."

"Ugh." Strictly speaking, you don't need to study tonight. You're pretty confident about the next test's material, and you're also pretty burnt out.

"We could check out the Student Center?" he suggests. As if it's a given that the two of you are going to spend the afternoon together. And, you realize, after two straight weeks of studying in his proximity, you don't mind the presumption. That's how you made your closest friend in undergrad, anyway.

In fact, you think you might want to get to know Jason. Maybe ask about his white streak; you've been growing more and more curious about it. And why he's about seven feet tall and two hundred fifty pounds of muscle but has a passion for romance novels.

"I don't think I've studied in there before."

"It's not too bad, but it's a little louder than the library."

So you two head to the Student Center, but he doesn't open his book, and you open your laptop but don't turn it on. He buys you coffee, though you insist that you can pay for it yourself, and a simple query into what book he's reading currently turns into a two-hour conversation.

Jason likes to read every genre, but he likes classics and romance best. He doesn't just have one brother, he has four, and a sister. He's not on the football team like you'd assumed; he just likes to work out. He's finishing up his sophomore year of undergrad studying English Lit—he sees how your smile freezes at those words, and you're asking how old he is, and he's laughing when he tells you he took a couple gap years. He's your age, actually, and that's relieving for reasons you can't quite put to words.

When you check your watch and curse at the time—it's almost time for your cat's dinner—he asks for your number, and you put it into his phone.

You feel good on your walk home. You haven't made a new friend since the first semester of vet school; the course load is too demanding for you to participate in any GCU clubs. Your roommate asks why you're smiling and you wave him off. Of course, your cat doesn't care that you're in a good mood. He only cares about getting fed.

You see Jason a couple more times over the week, and soon you're too embarrassed to admit that you thought he was stalking you. He's almost as bad a texter as you are, responding at such hours you're half-convinced he doesn't sleep, so you're less self-conscious about taking hours to respond.

You've just gotten around to answering his last text when something knocks against your window.

You drop the phone on your face.

The Red Hood is laughing at you when you open the window to let him in. You'd forgotten he was coming, but you don't say so. He tumbles in, moving a little stiffly, but a lot better than he'd been last week. Your cat, the little traitor, runs to greet him and rubs against his ankles, purring like an engine. The Red Hood bends to pet him. "Hey, kitty." The red helmet tips up and those unnerving white lenses fix on you. "Hey, doc. Here to get my stitches out."

"How have you been feeling?" you ask.

"Good," he says, almost defensively.

It makes you suspect that something is wrong, but when you all pile into the bathroom again like it's a clown car and he pulls up his shirt, the wound is healing nicely. No pink or heat that signals infection, no puffy skin. You remove the stitches quickly, and again he hesitates, like he wants to stay longer.

You find yourself thinking about Jason. You're pretty sure you wish he was here.

"Well, thanks."

"Anytime."

He pauses. "Really?"

You shrug. "I mean, not if you need a hospital. Then I'd expect you to head straight to a hospital. But stuff like this—no worse than this, ideally—I guess I can help you with."

"You're pretty cool for a vet," the Red Hood says. "The last one I visited kept freaking out on me for stealing codeine."

"Well, that's a restricted—wait, you were stealing codeine? What for?"

He shrugs.

"What were you using it for," you repeat sternly.

"Okay!" he says loudly. "Well, thanks for patching me up, doc. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Wait," you call out uselessly, but he vaults out the window. You gasp and rush to the sill, but there's no Red Hood-shaped puddle on the ground. Instead, his rapidly shrinking form disappears in the distance, swinging between the buildings that make up the Gotham skyline.

You don't see the Red Hood for a while after that, but you hear whispers of him wearing a new costume. You get caught up with finals and Jason, who asks you out after the semester ends.

Your vehement 'yes' takes you by surprise. Him, too, judging by his wide eyes and wider smile. You wonder why he asked if he thought you would say no. You wonder why you didn't realize earlier how desperately you wanted him to.

Now that you're out of school, you pick up shifts at the vet clinic. By some unhappy circumstance, they can only schedule you for the evening shifts. Jason works nights, too, and you've never fully squirreled out where he works, but at least you can spend some days together.

It's when you're walking back from your first shift that you see the Red Hood again after almost three weeks of radio silence. He pulls up next to you on the motorcycle. It's so late that there's no one on the road, so he stays on the asphalt and idles along at your walking pace until you break and say, "Long time no see, Hood."

"Did you miss me?" he teases.

You stop walking, because.

Most of his costume changed. Because it's summer, and even the nights are hot and muggy, you assume.

The pants are the same. So are the boots. But his jacket is red and sleeveless and has a hood that goes down to his eyebrows, the armor beneath short-sleeved, which means most of his arms are bare.

And...

Your mouth is dry. You swallow.

You're pretty sure not even Batman is that ripped. He looks like he's chiseled out of marble.

The longer you're speechless, the more amused he gets. You don't know how you know that, but something about his posture seems smug.

"You're taking 'red hood' seriously now, are you?" is all you manage to say. Because what else are you supposed to comment on? His bare forearms? His veins are so beautifully pronounced, they would be a dream to take blood from, but you have a boyfriend of a whole one and a half weeks, and you may be many things, but you're not a cheater.

He laughs, then pulls his hood low when it slips back a bit. His voice is still modulated, although it's not through a red helmet anymore. This is more like a muzzle. You can't tell if the eye covering is part of it, or like the domino masks that Batman and Robin wear, but the lenses are red now instead of white.

He's really leaning into the theme.

"You want a ride?"

"We're two blocks from my apartment."

He shrugs. "I'm heading there anyway."

What the hell. You've already hopped on the back of his bike before. It's easier to do so the second time. You wrap your arms around his torso again, and when his arms settle over your own, they're warm with his body heat, but not hard, even though the muscles look sharp enough to cut glass. He's firm all over, but his skin is soft, apart from the raised, bumpy scars that seem to cover him from head-to-toe. It makes you worry about him, just a little.

He doesn't drive fast this time. He drives slow enough to hold a conversation and tosses over his shoulder, "So what's new with you?"

"Not much," you say into his ear. Is it just you, or does he shiver? "I finished another semester of vet school."

"Top grades, I'm sure. Did you get extra credit for patching me up?"

"I wish." No, your grades are good, but not exceptional. But exceptional is what got you into vet school. As long as you graduate with a DVM, even if you're the lowest in your class, you're a licensed doctor. There's some relief in that. "The dude I thought was stalking me asked me out, actually."

"Really?" he asks, interested and alert. "Was he really stalking you? Do you need me to scare him off for you?"

"No," you say, smiling at the thought of the Red Hood trying to scare off Jason. They're about the same build, now that you think about it, which you're sure the vigilante isn't used to. And Jason's never been anything but gentle and polite, but you saw an undercurrent of something strong, something like titanium, under that gentle spirit the one time he stood up for one of the baristas at the coffee shop that you first spoke to each other. He hadn't needed to do much apart from stand up and glare at the beleaguered corporate guy angry that there wasn't enough sugar in his coffee, and the dude shut up and scurried out as fast as he could.

It was probably the hottest thing you've ever seen him do, except for that one time you pushed your laptop a little too close to the edge of your desk while studying, it tipped over, and he caught it one-handed without looking up from his book. What can you say? Saving you a couple hundred dollars in getting that fixed was hot.

"It was a misunderstanding," you say. "We just ended up in the same places at the same times."

A gust of wind pushes back the Red Hood's hood, exposing a head of thick, dark hair, the same shade of black as Jason's. The motorcycle swerves in his haste to pull his hood back up, and when you reach your apartment and hop off the bike, he's pushing his hair back, back, beneath the hood.

What's the point of ditching the helmet if he's just going to be fussing with the hood all the time?

"What's new with you?" you ask, scuffing your toe against the sidewalk. Your shoes are falling apart; the sole is peeling away.

"Same old, same old," he says. His voice sounds rougher, but that might just be the new modulator.

"How's your side?"

"How's yours?" he counters. "You still haven't let me see it. I bet it scarred because you were too stubborn to take my advice and patch it up."

You will never admit that he's right. You challenge, "Let's compare scars, then," knowing full well his armor dips below his pants. It's a little silly to picture the Red Hood wearing an armored one-piece, but that's all you can imagine.

He clucks his tongue and shakes his head. It dislodges the hood. A patch of hair falls down to his forehead, and it's white.

But the back of his hair is black.

White and black—

Your stomach flips.

"I thought you had a boyfriend, honey. Why're you asking me to strip?"

So that's what all the teasing's been about. He hasn't been flirting—or he has, his own weird version of flirting, because he's a dumbass.

For a moment all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears, then you flex your fingers to regain feeling in them. You roll your eyes and say, "I think we've established that my apartment is basically a strip club. Why don't you come up and show me, Jason?"

"Well, I'm flattered, but—what?" He splutters like he's choking on his own tongue. Serves him right. "I'm not—why do you think that—I mean, I could be anyone—"

Yeah, he can have his little crisis on the street. You tug on your own fringe, then swipe into the building.

You hear his muffled cursing as the door closes.

You look forward to him catching up.

(My requests are open, so let me know if you want me to write anything in particular! Also let me know if you want to be added to a taglist.)

Forever tag list:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

#reader insert #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd

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rafeandonlyrafe · 11 months ago

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defending you (sfw version)

words: 1.6k

warnings: mentions of violence

taglist: @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

nsfw version!

"rafe!" you yell, relieved to see him standing out on his dock. it looks like he's sorting through something in a box.

"rafe!" you yell again, waiting for him to hear you, but you know the sound of the whipping wind is carrying your voice in the opposite direction.

rafe stands, and turns back towards tannyhill. "rafe!" you yell again, and he finally turns, having heard not exactly his name, but an unexpected sound from the water.

"y/n?" rafe screams, his face going pale seeing you swimming towards the dock.

"rafe." you smile, relieved to finally be done with your long swim.

"what are you doing?" rafe rushes towards the ladder as you begin to climb up, legs and arms weak. "the water is freezing and there's a storm coming in."

"i know." you shiver as you pull yourself onto the dock, with help from rafe. you can't even stand as your legs crumble. "i was paddleboarding before the storm came and someone came and knocked me off my board and took it and my paddle. i swam here because it was closest."

you're kind of friends with rafe. he's never been mean or rude to you like you hear other people say, but there's a certain awkward tension when he's around.

you're not rich enough to be a kook but not poor enough to be a pogue, leaving you in a weird middle ground that you kind of love, getting accepted into both groups parties.

it's a party where you first met rafe. your kook friends all tried to convince you that he liked you, that he's been watching you the whole party, but whenever you looked his way, he was quick to advert his stare.

you became friends with his sister sarah quickly, and eventually began sleeping over at her house, using it as a safe haven especially when your parents would fight. rafe always found some sort of way to be involved in whatever you were doing with sarah, inviting himself out to the movies, or to get ice cream.

"who took your board?" rafes eyes flash with anger, the kind all the pogues tell you he's capable of, but that you haven't seen for yourself.

"kelces friend. i don't know his name. that blonde guy."

"topper?" rafe questions.

"no, no. that new guy. family just moved into that blue house."

"luke?" rafe practically spits his name out.

"yeah, him." you nod, and a shiver racks through your body. the water was frigid, but thankfully your hard swimming kept you from freezing. it's only now, on the dock with the harsh wind, that you feel the real chill.

"hold on, let me get you a towel." rafe runs onto the nearest boat, flipping open a seat and grabbing the fluffiest, most warm looking towel he sees.

rafe helps you stand and wraps the towel around you, pulling you into his arms to warm you up even more.

"what kind of boat was he driving?" rafe asks.

you don't want to talk, or think, just want to lay with your head against rafes chest and soak up his warmth, but you're eventually able to mutter out, "a black speedboat. i don't know more than that, it all happened so fast." truth was, you knew it was an expensive brand, way beyond anything your family would be able to afford, so you had no clue what it was.

"and he just came and knocked you off?" rafe curses himself as soon as he says it, because it sounds like he doesn't believe you, but really he just wants to get the story straight before he beats this guy to a pulp.

"yeah." you sniffle. "he made a huge wake that made me fall off, and then he just came along next to me and grabbed my board and paddle before i could get back on."

"y/n?" you hear your name called and turn and look down the dock, at mr. cameron.

you step out of rafes arms, suddenly aware of how it looks.

"hi, sir." you say as he walks closer.

"don't tell me you were swimming in this weather." it is unseasonably cold in the outer banks.

"not intentionally." you shake your head. "someone knocked me off my paddleboard and they took it. i swam here because it was closest."

mr. cameron looks at his son, and rafe gives a stern nod, a silent conversation happening that youre not privvy to.

"im gonna go get your board back for you, y/n." rafe says, effortlessly grabbing the boat keys his father tosses to him.

"rafe, i don't expect you to do that."

"we look out for our own here, yeah?" rafe says, hand coming to your face. you think he's going to rest a hand on your cheek, but his hand flinched and he pushes a stray hair behind your ear.

"thank you." you say with a tight swallow of your throat.

"ill be back, you go inside and warm up, okay?" rafe says, stepping back towards the boat. you nod, a weird feeling twisting in your stomach as you watch rafe going to defend you, going to get back what's yours.

you follow mr. cameron to the house, thankful as soon as you step in the door to be out of the wind.

"do you mind if i shower?" you ask, glad the wind had dried you a little to not be dripping throughout the whole house.

"of course not, let me take you there." mr. cameron loops through the huge house. you swear that you get lost every time you come here, only knowing the way from the front door up to sarahs room.

you meet rose halfway to your destination, and mr. cameron quickly explains the situation. she gives you a quick hug, apologizing for what happened. you're thankful you're already comfortable with them after spending time at the house with sarah.

mr. cameron leads you to a room with an attached bathroom, telling you he'll leave some clothes on the bed for you and then you can watch tv until rafe gets back. you thank him for the hospitality and head into the bathroom.

you're sitting on the bed, snuggled in under the covers, when the door suddenly opens.

"rafe." you breath out, hopping out of the bed to go to him. he's soaking wet from the rain that came in from the storm, but he has a proud gleam in his eye.

"i got your board back." rafe says. "and that asshole won't mess with you anymore."

you gulp, hoping that just means rafe gave him a stern talking to, but as you look down at his knuckles, you can tell it's not true.

"rafe!" you gasp, grabbing his hand and lifting it up. his knuckles are red and look bruised.

"it's alright." he goes to shake his hand out of your grasp when he suddenly freezes.

"youre wearing my shirt." rafe says. you look down. you just put on whatever clothes mr. cameron had left for you.

"i-" you're unsure if he's expecting an apology.

"in my clothes, in my room." rafe mutters, looking back towards the bed.

"i thought this was a guest room." you look around, realizing now that there are way too many personal items around for this to be a guest room, and that mr. cameron had led you to rafes room.

"it's no big deal." rafe says, this time putting his hand onto your cheek, rubbing it gently. it's cold from being outside but still warms you.

"i put your board in our shed. it'll be safe there for now. you're staying here though, the storms really bad right now." rafe says, backing you up further into the room and closing the door behind him.

"thank you but i don't want to impose." you shake your head.

"im not letting you leave in these conditions." rafe says. "now get back in bed and keep watching your show. i need to shower."

there's a new confidence in rafe that's shining even brighter than normal, and you wonder if it's the act of defending you that's caused it. you feel compelled to do whatever he says, so you nod your head and slip back under the covers, watching as rafe grabs a few items of clothing out of the dresser before heading into the bathroom.

the lull of the shower and the tv show you've seen a million times makes you feel the exhaustion of the long swim. your head rests against the pillows, and you don't even realize you've fallen asleep until you hear the bathroom door close.

you sit up to see rafe standing there with a smirk on his face, your eyes dragging down his bare torso, to where he's only wearing a pair of basketball shorts.

you have to hold yourself back from drooling at his broad shoulders.

"didn't mean to wake you." rafe says, stepping closer as if he's going to climb into bed with you.

"that's okay." you whisper, suddenly feeling small.

"can i lay down? keep you company for the night?" you aren't sure what rafes definition of 'keeping company' is, but you nod anyways.

rafe smiles again and you feel your last bit of apprehension melt away.

rafe gets under the covers, and you sit there awkwardly for a few seconds before you lean over, placing your lips against his. it's a quick kiss, not even enough time for him to truly reach.

"thank you for defending me." you say.

"ill do anything for you." rafe says honestly, placing a hand on the back of your head and pulling you in for another kiss, this one much stronger than the last.

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron one shot

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year ago

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☕️ CM Meet Cute Fics 📚

Hey friends! I want to start by saying thank you so much to everyone who participated - You are appreciated and the diversity only makes these events better.

Without further ado, here are all of the entries + recs for the Meet Cute Challenge! 🤗

@emberfrostlovesloki 's Masterlist of Entries: This lovely prolific writer has entered several fics, which include Hotch/Reader, Emily/Reader, and Spencer/Reader fics! Check out their page for even more!

P.S. At the end of this post, I included all my fics for this challenge!

SFW S.R./GN!Reader

Heart Language by @foxy-eva: Spencer has a crush on his doctor (and the feeling is mutual)

Warmth by @cecedownbad: A mystery man stumbled on to you, his gestures alone changing the dim scenery into a bright fantasy.

And in the Beginning... by @milla984: After spending a day at D.C.’s multifandom convention, Spencer spills his coffee on Reader.

(Not So) Stupid Things by @railingsofsorrow: Reader is a detective on a case the FBI is called to work on. While trying to make a good first impression, they forget that Spencer doesn't shake hands.

Frights & Fractures by @therealmsdelulu: Spencer accidentally gets hurt in a spooky attraction and Reader, a scare actor, breaks character to help.

Style Theory: Fashion student Reader meets their favorite scholar and teaches him a lesson in self-love.

SFW S.R./Fem!Reader

The Perfect Seat by @/foxy-eva: Reader's never liked crowded trains until a handsome stranger fell right into her lap.

Funny Thing Fate: Autistic!Reader is tipsy and lost in D.C. when she spots a man she thinks might be able to help.

Coffee Caramels by @007reid: Reader sits next to a stranger in the theater, but the two end up bonding when there's a technical glitch.

Every Single Day by @astrophileous: When his daughter demands to hear the story of how Spencer and Reader met, he must oblige.

War and Peace & Coffee by @drgenius-reid: Spencer meets a lovely stranger in a coffee shop where they read together.

NSFW S.R./Fem!Reader

In Full Bloom by @/foxy-eva: A random interaction between Spencer Reid and Reader leads to weeks of longing and yearning until they decide they have spent enough time being strangers

Get Lucky: It’s 3AM and a pipe burst in Reader’s apartment. She is soaked, angry, and forgot her wallet and phone. Her neighbor Spencer tries his best to make the night not terrible.

Elevator Pitch by @reiderwriter: Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive man sharing the metal box of death has an interesting idea about how to can pass the time.

And for my Next Trick... by @reidmotif: Reader and Spencer unknowingly match costumes at a Halloween party.

Assorted Fics (A.H., D.M., E.P., T.L., P.G.)

What a Ride by @alluring-andrayav: [SFW, Hotch/GN!Reader] Whilst on a bus ride to work, Reader gets knocked into a very handsome strangers lap.

Midnight by @foxy-eva: [NSFW, E.P./Fem!Reader] Emily is the most stunning woman Reader has ever seen, so she makes sure their night together doesn’t end anytime soon.

Falling for Me Already? by @alluring-andrayav: [SFW, Derek/Fem!Reader] It's Reader's first day of work, and her heel breaks. Thankfully, Derek is there to catch her.

Supervisory Special Agent by @alluring-andrayav: [SFW, Derek/Fem!Reader] Reader already met Derek, but neither of them realize it for a ridiculously long time because she has much bigger issues to worry about.

October by @gaelic-symphony: [SFW, Temily] The couple arrives in a couple's costume.

Adding It All Up by @masterwords: [SFW, Hotch/William LaMontagne Jr.] Hotch follows Reid and Jack into a haunted house. Inside he meets a ghost and stumbles right into some unexpected arms.

Collision by @codename-mom: [Gen Fic, Hotch & Penelope] A brand-new BAU is forming but there is still someone missing. The team masterpiece: a technical analyst.

Co-Creator NSFW Entries (S.R./Fem!Reader)

Devil in the Backseat: Reader is a little too much for Spencer (he’s into it).

Yellow Light: Everyone thinks Reader is dangerous. Probably because she’s Cat’s sister. But is that why Spencer likes her?

Big Bad Wolf (Part 1, Part 2): Spencer is overwhelmed by the apparent innocence of an elementary school teacher he meets on a case.

All Legs: Tall!Reader. Spencer meets a woman at an event and finds he really wants to be under her heels.

Co-Creator SFW Entries (S.R./Fem!Reader)

Serendipitous: Spencer’s pretty sure Penelope mixed up his blind date.

Dead Air: Professor Reid is hesitant to be a guest on his old student’s true crime video series, but is surprised to find it’s not so bad.

Porcelain: Autistic!Reader has a meltdown in the cafe. Luckily, there is a Dr. Reid nearby.

Baggage Claim: Autistic!Reader is having a hard time at the airport.

Mister Spencer: Reader has a crush on her child’s teacher.

Maddening One, My Goddess: Spencer has a one night stand… on February 13th. The next day, he is confronted with a familiar face on his pre-planned double date.

Studious Shadow: Reader’s crush won’t stop avoiding her at work and she thinks he might hate her.

Stranger Danger: Reader is a single mother having a very bad day.

Happy Reading!

Is your entry missing? DM me and I'll add you!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #spencer reid smut #derek morgan #emily prentiss #temily #tara lewis #masterlist #cm writing challenge #criminal minds challenge #meet cute

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milkkkkkkkkkk · 1 year ago

Text

cw: explicit content, oral sex, vaginal sex, afab!reader, teasing, smut, mdni

word count: 2.8k

"You were soaking wet from the storm outside. You made your last delivery for the day, but still couldn't go home. Will the offer for some hot cocoa turn a bad day to a good one?"

jim halpert x reader

WORST DAY

You were thankful for your new job. It was awful most days, but thursdays... You had started working in delivery, pastries to be precise, and worked monday through thursday. And on that one last day, you got a weekly order from Dunder Mifflin. The receptionist always smiled at you, she was very sweet, and the guy who was apparently the boss didn't miss a chance to make an inappropriate comment. But there was a reason you kept making these deliveries, even if you could ask someone else to do them. You met his gaze, a couple desks over. There he was, brown wavy hair and soft eyes. You felt the butterflies in your stomach, and you heart raced a little. You held his gaze, not wanting to seem shy, and he looked down a couple of seconds later, showing a small grin on his face. That was the highlight of your weeks. The donut delivery to Dunder Mifflin.

One day he started to receive and sign the deliveries himself, taking the chance to make small talk, ask about your day or maybe your plans for the weekend. You surprisingly found him really easy to talk to, and learned that his name was Jim, his birthday was october first and he always had jam and cheese sandwiches for lunch. Your crush had developed into something more than just your heart skipping a beat. You'd noticed his eyes trailing down your body, and him leaning a little bit closer than needed, and how easy he made you squirm. You wanted him, and the tension between you two was undeniable.

That was your routine for a little over three months, stealing glances and hidden smiles, talking and flirting a little before you had to go. You'd grown comfortable around each other. And that had been your regular schedule, never a mishap. But today was different. The rain had you almost completely soaked, but you were making sure that your tiny umbrella covered the donuts completely and kept them dry, even if it was at your expense. You struggled to open the front door and at the exact moment you managed to get in you crashed into someone, resulting in a box of donuts on the ground. Thankfully the box was sealed with tape and none of the donuts actually hit the floor, but the glaze was messed up. You scrambled and mumbled a string of apologies, mentally cursing yourself and everyone else. You had a rough morning, and this was just making your day worse.

Gentle hands met yours when trying to lift the box off the ground, and as you looked up from underneath your long eyelashes, you met the gaze you were so familiar with. He looked a bit worried, and his mouth moved, saying something you didn't hear, you were too busy trying to comprehend what was happening.

You started to realize the state you were in, and asked a soft "Sorry?"

He smiled and asked "Are you okay?" while getting up from the ground with you.

"Oh," you chuckled slightly "Yeah I'm okay, I'm just having a little bit of a bad day."

"Strong storm outside..." He trailed off looking at the window to the rain outside. To be honest, it was raining pretty hard.

You took the chance to look at him for a second, taking in his wet hair and sticky shirt. Thinking he must've got caught up in the storm as well, and scolding yourself for staring.

"So um... Do you have any plans for today?" He suddenly asked, locking his eyes with yours.

"Thankfully this is my last delivery for the day, though I can't really go home, they're fixing a leak" You sighed, thinking how you couldn't even relax at home during the storm. You'd end up in a library maybe, you'd have to hope they'd let you in with soaked clothes.

"Im uh, done for the day, got off early," He started, "We could maybe go to my place" He suggested and you looked at him.

"I make killer hot cocoa" He finished with an enticing grin.

You considered it, it would be a chance to get closer, and maybe more...

You finished the delivery, deeply apologizing to the receptionist and after explaining the situation and the state of the donuts, you assured her the next delivery would be free of cost.

Finally, you opened the door to his car. He was waiting for you outside of the building, and turned on the heat to warm up. He lived 20 minutes away from his office, and actually closer to your apartment too. You walked into his flat, looking at the simple and a little bit messy living room.

"I'll bring some dry clothes for you" He said, disappearing into what you assumed was his bedroom. You took the chance to walk around the kitchen, it was clean and organized. He reappeared with a black t-shirt, some red and black pajama pants and a towel.

"These pants were my brother's, I think they'll fit" He said as he handed you the dry clothes. "The bathroom is over there" He pointed to a white door.

You thanked him and went into the bathroom, locking eyes with him as you closed the door, intentionally leaving a gap big enough to catch a peak. You turned your back to the door as you started to undress, feeling his eyes on you. You unbuttoned your shirt, and slowly slipped it from your shoulders until it hit the floor. The bathroom was directly across the couch in the living room. And you heard him as he sat down to enjoy the show. That made you even more giddy, and slick with anticipation. You unclasped your bra and took it off before moving to your pants. They were made out of soft fabric that was easy to remove from you body, and they dropped to the floor. Toeing off your shoes, you finally put on the t-shirt he gave you. You could tell he wore it often, it smelled strongly like him, and that made you wet. You grabbed the towel and put it around your neck, drying your hair a little, and walked out of the bathroom, to stand directly in front of him in only a shirt and panties.

"The pants didnt fit."

He was sitting on the couch, man spreading, one of his arms thrown over the back rest of the couch and the other one resting in his thigh. The first three buttons of his white shirt were open, and his tie ditched on the floor, his hair messier. The mood had changed completely, there was a clear sexual tension and heaviness in the air. His eyes had darkened, like his expression, and he looked directly at you. Looking at his shirt on your body had an effect on him. The hem of the shirt was just below your ass, and your perky nipples showed through the soft material. He didn't say anything and just stared, taking in the sight, and you noticed the growing bulge in his pants.

You took a step forward, and he stared at your eyes, finally smiling at you, a different kind of smile to the one he offered every thursday. Maybe today wouldn't be such a bad day.

You finished walking towards him, standing in between his legs, and you placed a hand on his cheek, making him look up. His eyes were hungry, and his hands acted like so. He started on your legs, caressing them, moving up to your thighs and then your waist and your back. You closed your eyes, enjoying his touch, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling his head towards your abdomen. After a few minutes he finally grabbed at your ass, looking up from your abdomen and pulling you to sit on his lap, straddling him.

You felt him then, hard and big underneath you. Leaning down, your breaths mingled, your hands moved to his neck as his hands cupped your ass. You were so close, yet your lips weren't touching.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

"Yes." You whispered back before he kissed you. Slowly at first, as if he was memorizing how your lips felt on his, or how soft your skin was beneath his hands. He began kissing you more deeply, almost desperately, and you wondered if he had wanted you as long as you had wanted him.

He squeezed your ass, making you open your mouth to let out a sudden moan and he took that chance to make his tongue meet yours. He explored every inch of your mouth, and you started pressing down on his hard cock. You were in a state of bliss, and wanted to take the next step. Moving your hands from his neck you moved to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them and revealing a toned build. You finished unbuttoning his shirt and ran your hands through his chest. Your legs moved away from his sides and onto the floor between his legs. One of his hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it with such and ease that it made it incredibly arousing. You dragged his pants and his boxers down in one go, not wanting to take more time, desperate to have his dick in your mouth.

It was big, and it had a nice girth to it. You stared at it, your mouth already watering. One of your hands grabbed it by the base, and your tongue drew a line from the base to the tip. He threw his head back, finding the sight of you unbelievably hot. He gave himself to the feeling of your mouth on his dick. After teasing a little, your lips wraped around the tip of his member, earning a small gasp from his mouth. You swirled your tongue around it, before hollowing your cheeks for a few seconds and letting go, making a popping sound. You spat on it, before putting it in your mouth again. You continued, feeling one of his hands tangle in your hair. You bobbed up and down for a few minutes, before your needs started to feel unbearable. A string of saliva connected your mouth and his dick when you pulled away, looking up at him. You found his eyes staring right back, with an expression you couldn't read. You stood up, standing in between his legs again, and his hands found their way to the hem of your panties, sliding them down your legs until they were on the floor. He wet his lips, his eyes filled with lust and anticipation. He gently pushed you to the couch, making you lay on your back, and you were suddenly feeling a little embarrassed when he opened your legs to get a good look at you. You were flushed, and Jim was delighted to see you like that, so impossibly lewd.

He bent down, kissing you right below the belly button, and he continued leaving a trail of kisses leading right to your pussy. He only gave one kiss to your clit before moving away, kissing the inside of your thighs, the sides of your abdomen, and getting so close to your pussy it was almost torture. He was slow, as if he was enjoying tormenting you.

"J-Jim please...."

He froze for one second before turning his eyes to you.

"Are you begging?" He asked in a mixture of disbelief and lust.

You looked away, pouty. "I guess I am" You said sheepishly.

You couldn't have known the effect that had on Jim, to see you begging for him, sprawled in his couch, wearing your shirt, and so wet for him. He would've liked to keep going, to keep teasing you, but you were so irresistible looking like that... that he couldn't help it. He kissed you pussy, finally, earning a moan from your mouth. You didn't know if he had neighbors, so you tried to stifle the sounds coming from your mouth as he started to dive right in your folds. He swiped his tongue over and over, sucking on your clit, plunging his tongue into your hole, making you a moaning mess. You couldn't stand it anymore, you needed him, needed to feel full of him. Would he fuck you if you begged?

"Mnhn... Jim... please fuck me"

That was all he needed to hear before kneeling on the couch, one hand on the handrest behind your head, the other grabbing at your thigh, looking at you with hunger. He grabbed the base of his dick, swiping his tip on your slick folds and earning soft sounds from you. He was tremendously hard. He aligned himself at your entrance before looking at you for approval. You nodded.

You felt the mixture of pain and pleasure as he pushed in, stretching you, going deeper and deeper, before he was all in. He waited a moment before slowly pulling back out, and going back in. He kept a torturously unhurried pace, making sure you were comfortable, and enjoying it as much as he was. He had a knack for teasing you, for making you beg, you realized. When you were ready to pick up the pace, you looked up at him, hands on his chest.

"Faster...please"

He buried his head on your neck, and you wrapped your hands around his back. He started to go faster, slapping sounds filling the room, mixing with the ongoing storm outside. He felt so incredibly good inside you, you could hear the little sounds coming from him, his hands gripping your skin, his lips leaving a mark at the crook of your neck. You felt a familiar sensation starting to build in your lower abdomen, the fast steady pace of him hitting a particular spot inside you that made you feel better than you ever had. The sex was mimd boggling. You were so close.

"Jim...ah...I-I'm gonna..." You said through strained breaths.

He kept his pace, gripping you tighter, the knot snapping. You moaned, gasping for air, feeling overwhelming waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your sensitive parts being overstimulated by him, now going at an uneven pace, chasing his own release. He moaned and pulled out, sticky white strings shot out of him, landing on your chest and stomach. His load was big, and he kissed you when he finished.

You were both exhausted, but he still stood up and went to the bathroom. He came back with a towel and clean clothes and asked if you wanted to take a shower. You did, and wore the comfy hoodie he gave you. While you were in the shower he cleaned the couch and started preparing some hot cocoa. You emerged from the bathroom, taking in the sight in front of you. Shirtless Jim, preparing hot cocoa for both of you. A blanket on the couch and some snacks on the table. You could get used to this. His back was turned to you, and you suddenly felt the need to hug him. You wondered if it would be okay, or if it would be crossing a line. You decided to risk it as you walked up to him from behind. Your hands slithered around him and he flinched. A sudden wave of disappointment hit you, and you tried to pulled away before his hands grabbed yours, and pulled them around him.

"Your hands are cold"

He said as he turned his head to smile at you. Relief washed over you, and you melted on his back, before he turned around completely, leaning on the counter.

"I need to take a shower" Was all he said before pecking your lips and disappearing into the bathroom for 10 minutes. You decided to make yourself comfortable on the couch, pulling the blanket over your body. He got out of the bathroom with wet hair, and you couldn't help but think about how hot he looked. You then realized what just happened. You just had the best sex of your life with Jim Halpert. And you were in his apartment, in his clothes, waiting for the hot cocoa he made for you. You blushed, today was truly an out of the ordinary day.

He went into the kitchen and came back with two mugs. He put on a show and you drank your hot cocoa, talking about whatever came to mind. It was truly a killer hot cocoa, and you hoped to have it again. Soon, you had both finished your drinks and now were cuddling on the couch, his arms lazily hung around your body, and you were playing with his hair.

"Let me take you out on a date" He said out of nowhere, and he smiled when you met his gaze. You returned the smile, agreeing to meet tomorrow for dinner. Your bad day had turned out to be the best day you've had in years. You gave into the cozy feeling of being in his arms, taking in his scent and his warmth, and fell asleep to his fingers drawing circles on your skin.

note: hi!! im new to tumblr so im sorry if my posts look a little weird. this was originally posted on ao3 with the same name. i hope you liked it!! <3

#the office #jim halpert #jim halpert x reader #smut

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mistyacorn · 2 years ago

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don't worry about me

sypnosis; dan heng gets pretty badly hurt after fighting a monster one day and you have to make sure your boyfriend’s okay!

pairing(s); bf dan heng + (trailblazer) gn! reader ⟿ featuring; established relationship, flustered dan heng (hehe), kinda dialogue heavy at the start

❀ wc; 1,585

a/n; ok to explain my inspo, whenever i play hsr and dan heng is dying, i heal the lovely man ofc, and his voiceline literally is "don't worry about me" (꧆▽꧆). anyw this turned out way sappier than i imagined loool

You have just arrived in the Astral Express after a long day of helping Natasha with the clinic. You’re feeling tired, and going around Belebog alone today just added to the exhaustion.

You actually missed having Dan Heng tell you to make rational choices during your quests. Without your boyfriend today, you ended up fighting probably double the enemies you needed to.. Plus, (you’d never tell her this) but you secretly missed March’s bright voice.

Speaking of her, as soon as you step into the parlor car, you’re greeted by the smiley girl. She’s sitting on one of the couches with Himeko, and they wave you over.

“y/n!” She sings, “come look! I took these today.” You approach the pair, greeting Himeko with a friendly smile and look at March’s phone with them.

“See here… this was when we were on the way to Rivet Town!” She shows you guys a selfie of herself grinning widely, with a deadpanned Dan Heng behind her. You and Himeko giggle. “The town was pretty cool. It was all dark and eerie, like some sort of ghost town! I wanted to film for you guys but the place was flooded with monsters so Dan Heng told me to put my phone away and fight. What a party pooper.….”

You smile softly as the girl continues showing you and Himeko pictures she took (and snuck) of herself, Dan Heng, and the town. “Oh yeah! On our way back here, we encountered this huuuge monster. He was big and angry, it was scary!” She widens her eyes. “Thankfully Dan Heng was there! He fought that monster like his life depended on it. Which, it did.”

She scrolls through her gallery and exclaims, “Hey, look! I managed to snap a picture of it before we fought.”

March turns the phone to show you two. The image is a little blurry but you recognise the monster. You’d fought it sometime before, and truthfully, it wasn’t an easy fight. The last time you defeated it, you were fighting with Selee, Bronya, Dan Heng and March. If it was tough for a five person team… just how much harder was it for two?

“It looks really strong, March.” Himeko speaks the words in your mind, “did either of you get hurt?” You turn to March, eyes wide with a little worry.

The girl thinks for a second before shaking her head. “Nope. I’m okay now!” She nods, pausing straight after. A sheepish smile takes over her face. “To be honest… Dan Heng did most of the fighting with that monster, heheh… I was knocked out 3 minutes in…”

You blink, heart beating just a little faster. “Is- is he badly hurt?” You ask.

March replies quickly, “Don’t worry, he said he was alright! Just a few scratches, a little sore.”

Himeko nods. “I did see him before he went to his room earlier, he didn’t look like he was in pain.”

You hum in reply. Dan Heng is strong, you know that. But you knew your boyfriend, and he never shows his pain. Even if he was a breath away from death, he’d still say ‘I’m fine’ with a blank face to anyone who asks.

You decide to excuse yourself to check on him. Nobody knows what state he could be in right now. Bruised? Bleeding? Dead??? (Okay so you are overthinking a tad bit but hey, it’s possible.)

As soon as you get to his room door, you nearly slam it open. You scan the room frantically before seeing Dan Heng, who’s sitting down on his makeshift bed with his back against the shelf behind him.

You immediately dash to his side and study him. In front of him is a box of bandaids, a bottle of antibacterial solution and a bag of cotton balls. He’s holding a soaked cotton ball too. The boy has his shirt off, and you clearly see the bruises and scars on his torso and arms. You can see the little cuts on his face, one or two looking awfully deep. Your eyes start to water at the sight. It must hurt so badly…

“you’re back already?” His voice sounds, making you look up at him. You feel like you can’t talk so you nod. Dan Heng already knows how worried you are of course, as soon as he meets your glistening eyes. He sighs. “y/n, I’m okay.”

You blink, eyes still watering as you furrow your brows slightly. “Are you sure?? It look bad babe..”

“It’s.. not as bad as it looks. Trust me- Ow.” He tries to assure you, although he accidentally winces when you touch on his cheek lightly. You widen your eyes as he closes his eyes and sighs.

“Sorry!” You peep, suddenly aware of every move you make around him. You didn’t want to make things worse.

He shakes his head, eyes fluttering open again. “It’s alright.” He replies, then moves to continue tending to his wounds on one arm. “I just need to- disinfect these.”

You watch him wince between every few words. As he proceeds to clean the rest of his cuts, you stare like a hawk, as if doing that will make the process less painful for him.

Dan Heng clears his throat. You glance up at him again and this time, you can see he looks a little shy. You tilt your head in confusion. “Um…” his eyes flicker and he looks down shyly, “would you be comfortable helping me with the cuts on my back? I can’t reach those.”

Oh! “Of course.” You nod quickly, scooting forward to plant yourself right in front of your boyfriend. You grab a cotton ball and soak it in the antibacterial solution. Meanwhile, Dan Heng turns himself around, back facing you. Secretly, he’s glad he can turn away from you, so he can hide his embarrassment.

Since the start of your relationship, you and Dan Heng have never really been a physical couple. Mostly due to the fact that he’s not the physically affectionate type. He often feel guilty about it. You never complain though, since to you, your boyfriend expresses his love in other ways that are cute and sweet.

Having never been physical, you also haven’t seen him shirtless. So this situation being the first time, Dan Heng feels a little flustered. You, being so focused on making sure his wounds are cleaned properly, don’t realise it at all.

The whole time as you’re disinfecting each wound with care, his cheeks are burning and his ears are bright red. He’s so grateful that you’re too busy to see him like this.

With all that on his mind, he barely reacts to your cleaning. Before he knows it, you’re done.

“Okay, I’m done here.” You announce, sighing in satisfaction. “You can turn around now.”

Dan Heng slowly turns back around, not really wanting to because he can still feel his face burning. You ready yourself with another soaked cotton ball. He glances at it in your hand and furrows his brows, an invisible question mark appearing above his head. “What’s that for?”

You smile softly, eyes filled with nothing but care as you scan the few cuts on his face. “Your face silly, there’s a few.” You point out. You move even closer now, placing yourself on his lap in order to do so. You focus on one scar at a time, tending to it. “Tell me if it’s really bad, okay? I’ll be gentle.”

“…Yeah.” He barely whispers. Now your faces are less than three inches apart. While you are staring at his scars, his eyes are on you and your focused face. His heart is thumping like crazy. Seeing you being so careful with him makes Dan Heng feel warm inside. He feels like he’s falling in love with you even more right there and then.

Besides a little white noise, the room is comfortably silent. Occasionally his breath hitches from the sharp pain but it’s nothing too painful.

There’s one cut left to disinfect, and this one is visibly deeper than the rest. You softly dab on it, but the stinging catches Dan Heng off guard and he flinches. “Sorry baby.” You say softly, an apologetic look on your face. “Just a little more.”

He nods, quietly speaking. “Don’t worry about me. I… It doesn’t hurt.” You simply hum in response. It’s clear that he’s lying. He never wants to cause trouble for anyone, especially for you, and you grin softly knowing that.

Moments later, you finish up by sticking a bandaid on the cut. You can finally breathe a sigh of relief. “There we go.” Your eyes meet his again, and this time you notice the flushed look on his face. You smile confusingly. “What?”

“Um.. you’re- I- uh…” Your boyfriend stutters, barely able to look you in the eyes. You’ve never seen his this flustered before. It takes a moment before it hits you.

You’re sitting in his lap. He’s shirtless. Oh. OH.

“Oh my- sorry!” Your eyes widen, cheeks getting rosy. Dan Heng looks to the side, his cheeks burning, shaking his head to say ‘no it’s fine’. You move to get up from his lap.

In the very moment, Dan Heng doesn’t know what washes over him but he grabs hold of your arm gently to stop you from getting up. Your eyes interlock, both of you flushed. “Thank you for helping me.” His whispers.

And before you can reply, his soft lips are planted onto yours.

#(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) —mistyacorn’s #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #danheng x reader #dan heng #danheng #danheng x y/n #hsr imagines #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail #hsr dan heng #dan heng hsr #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #dan heng x y/n

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kakushino · 1 year ago

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Relax

Tomioka Giyuu x GN! Reader

As the Water Estate's Kakushi, it was your duty to make Tomioka Giyuu's stay as comfortable as possible while he recuperates between missions.

Tags: fluff, domesticity Word count: 0,9k

AN: One of my dearest friends sent me a message one time saying "I think Giyuu would find it so relaxing when you take care of him. Let him bathe, brush his hair so gently and while he soaks in the water, you make some tea for him." Minus the tea, I think I nailed it.

Masterlist

It wasn't the first time you prepared a bath for him nor was it the first time you saw him naked - though it had been entirely innocent the last time, as you wanted to help him relax by giving him a massage. It was the first time you offered to wash his hair though, and also the first time you were in the large bathtub with him - in a bathing yukata, of course. Giyuu hadn't protested, and you'd taken it as a sign of approval.

You moved your sleeves away from your hands while preparing for it. Giyuu's hair was… a mess, a tangled mess which would need quite a long time untangling, but determination filled you anew. He spent days, weeks, years fighting demons to keep everyone safe; it was your duty, a kakushi’s duty, to support him in any way you could, even if it was as small as helping wash his exhausted body.

"I will tilt your head back now, Giyuu-sama," you murmured before you acted, keeping him nice and pliable under your hands. You had already taken off the tie which usually kept his hair back.

You used a small cup to collect the water before you carefully poured it over his hair. With gentle hands and gentler touch, you used the special hair soap your friend recommended you on the mess on Giyuu's head, trying to work it in to let it work its magic. To make the wait less tedious, you made sure to give Giyuu's scalp a massage.

The Hashira, on the other hand, was on cloud nine. It had been years since he felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable in front of another person. And you? You brought him so much of that comfort he could melt under your skilled hands. A slight flush took over his cheeks, one he would blame on the hot water if you pointed it out.

As you worked through each knot and tangle loose with your fingers, you hummed a simple rhyme you learned from your father when you were young. Your fingers were sore and pruney by the time you deemed Giyuu's hair sufficiently soaked.

While washing out the hair soap, you took time to scratch him gently, eliciting a shudder that made you smile in secret. He seemed to be enjoying himself if the blush on his face and peaceful expression were anything to go by.

Once done with his hair, you used a tie to hold it up and got to washing his back gently. His skin was littered with scars of various origins, and you tried to be gentle around them, knowing the nerves can be a bit sensitive. Yet again, you made sure to scratch him lightly with your nails and knead his muscles where he accumulated the most stress of his days, particularly in the shoulder area. His sighs of content were music to your ears.

As the water gradually got lukewarm, you coaxed him out of the bath.

Your bathing yukata was thick enough to not be see-through thankfully, and he quickly put a robe of his own on while you averted your gaze. The air was thick with steam and smelled faintly of sakura blossoms.

“Giyuu-sama, please sit here,” you fetched a stool for him so you could continue the hair treatment, this time with oils to help with combing. You’d also noticed his hair was a little- okay no, very dry, and you were damned if you didn’t try your best.

You quickly found out the ends were irreparable.

“May I cut your hair, Giyuu-sama?” you whispered, trying not to break the tranquility of the bathroom. He tensed under your hands as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Just the ends.”

“Fine,” he muttered, not unkindly.

A smile bloomed on your face and you quickly grabbed scissors from the box where you kept your bath products. You’d been meaning to cut your own ends soon, but Giyuu took precedence.

Giyuu always took precedence.

You straightened out his hair as much as you could with a boar-bristle brush and snipped away, evening out the choppy hair strands as much as you could and cutting through some of the unsalvageable knots. You continued humming the tune from before as you worked.

This kind of domestic peace was rare with your charge… and crush. You were determined to enjoy it to the fullest.

You put down the scissors when you deemed that part done; now you just had to comb out his hair.

Giyuu was so quiet you nearly didn’t hear him.

“Thank you.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. “It’s no problem.” I enjoyed it.

It brought you joy to be able to glide through his hair smoothly now, though you knew he would go and mess it up by going to bed with wet hair the minute you released him from your clutches. An idea sparked in your mind - one which you immediately acted upon.

Starting at the nape of his neck, you weaved a simple braid into his hair, tying it off with the tie from earlier.

“All done, Giyuu-sama,” you told him and took a step back, collecting all the products and putting them away, quickly getting rid of the mess of snipped strands as the Hashira walked off.

You wondered if he noticed, and if he did then if he liked it.

He did notice and insisted on you caring for his hair the next time he stayed at his estate again. One day, he would also offer to wash your hair, he promised himself.

dividers made by the amazing @/benkeibear

#i love him okay #he deserves so much happiness #he deserves peace #he deserves the world #and i want to give it to him #giyuu my beloved #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #tomioka giyuu #giyuu x reader #giyuu x y/n #giyuu x you #kny fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kny x reader #demon slayer fanfic #giyuu fluff #kakushino

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cobrakaisb · 1 year ago

Text

meet me in the pouring rain

summary: mark's working over time to make things up to you, because when sparks fly, they fly. (part two of life in a glass house)

word count: 886

all he could hear were your words, “i asked you not to waste my time mark,” repeating in his head like a mantra. he couldn’t go one second without hearing them. lifting weights with the team, he was thinking about you; eating at the dining hall, his thoughts were centered around you.

it was a slap to the face, honestly. he worked so hard to gain your trust, establish a friendship with you, and then blew it in the span of one night. he blew it and he hadn’t even known it. until days later, and it was affecting everything.

his game was off. he was spending more time than usual in the penalty box, and that’s saying something since he’s already in there an excessive amount of time. his social life was also taking a hit. suddenly, he didn’t even want to think about partying, drinking, or seeing any girls. all he wanted was you.

he missed your study sessions, your ranting about books, ones he’s never even heard of, and your sarcastic remarks. he missed seeing your encouraging smile when he started to understand the material from english class. he missed sitting side by side on his bed, legs barely touching, as you ripped apart his latest composition. he missed watching you chew on the cap of the red, ballpoint, bic pen as you made small corrections to his revised essays. but most importantly, he missed you.

after this revelation, mark made it his personal mission to talk to you again. he tried catching you after class, but you were either ignoring him or didn’t hear him. he wanted to believe it was the latter, but he knew there was a higher probability that the former was true.

then, he tried finding you after your weekly book club meetings. he knew it met on thursdays, because you very adamant about keeping thursdays free, and he knew meetings occurred in a room in the student union. he just, for the life of him, could not find out which room. so that idea went down the drain.

a week later, he saw you in the stands at yost arena. you were sitting with some friends, your group barely paying any attention to the ice or the people on it. but his eyes found you, and they kept coming back to you. “dude, get your head in the game,” ethan said, speeding by him. all he could think about was how you’d comment on the high school musical reference.

thankfully, they won that game, and mark was sure that you’d stick around. he was so sure, that he rushed to shower and change back into his suit. imagine his surprise when he walks out of the locker room and can’t find you. he’d lost you again.

the next day, on his run, mark stopped in front of your dorm building. ever since you stopped talking to him, he changed his route, praying for a chance to run into you. it seemed that luck was on his side because you were fumbling around for your id to unlock the door when he slowed to a stop in front of your dorm room.

“mark? you’re soaked, what are you doing?” you asked, looking at him for the first time in weeks. and that’s all that mattered at the moment, the fact that your eyes were meeting his. and was it raining? it was raining, he realized as he felt the cold water deep into his bones.

“i ran to clear my head, and i somehow ended up here,” he answered. mark wanted you to respond, but you didn’t say anything. instead, you just stared at him. “look, y/n, the letter thing wasn’t my fault. i had no idea you even wrote me a letter until after you stopped talking to me. i was complaining about it to the guys, and they told me what happened. i really had no idea,” he explained.

“why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner?” you asked, arms crossed as the rain soaked your hair and all other aspects of your outfit.

“i tried, but you were kind of ignoring me,” mark answered. “is that it?” you replied, after a couple beats of silence.

“yeah, my pride is telling me that’s it. my pride just wants me to walk away and pretend like nine of this ever happened, but my heart says just forget about your pride, you idiot. you love this girl. and even if you’re gonna catch pneumonia, your ass is gonna stand out here in the rain, until you can convince her to forgive you.”

“and why should i? forgive you?” she finally asked, giving him a curious look. “because i love you. and you look really hot standing out here in the rain, so i have to kiss you,” mark answered, with zero hesitation. at that moment, y/n smiled, a small one, but it was a smile, nonetheless.

“oh you have to?” she asked, in that smartass tone that would usually have mark going mental, but with her it was fine. “i have to,” he agreed as her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, one hand digging into his hair. “then you better kiss me you stupid idiot,” she mumbled right as their lips collided.

#oth au #oth au with mark #mark estapa #mark estapa blurbs #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa imagine #mark estapa blurb #umich hockey #umich hockey imagines #cobrakaisb writing #cobrakaisb aus

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sunny-speaks · 1 year ago

Text

Your 'Normal' Neighbour

Character(s): Ren from @14dayswithyou x reader!

back on that renren grind, sorry for the radio silence yall-

academic rivals! [redacted] has a wip sittin in the back rn, so hopefully yall are excited for thaT-

this is basically like if Ren was your neighbour instead of Violet or if Violet lived like down the block-

hope u enjoy !!

And that was it.

You grunted, setting down that last box before rubbing your back, who knew moving back to Corland Bay could be so exhausting. You swore that you had less stuff when you first moved out!

You finally managed to set your bedroom up in a way that you liked, thankfully having signed up for a fully furnished apartment. This way, you ould just add your personal touches and you’d be good to go, right?

You strung up a couple of fairy lights and puts some polaroids of your friends up. Maybe you’d miss them, maybe you wouldn’t. You certainly didn’t remember many people from Corland Bay, so now you’d have to make new relationships…

Great.

But the fairy lights were a nice touch from your friend, Thesia, all the way back in the neighbourhood you’d moved away from. You’d miss them, you thought, heading to the living room, grabbing a juice box out of the fridge.

Thank God you’d stocked it before all this heavy work…

You sprawled yourself on the couch and endured the August heat, mmm, coming back in summer was a brilliant idea. You soaked up all the sunlight from your translucent curtains and basked in the heat.

It wasn’t so bad, if you didn’t pay attention to how sweltering it felt. But you were too lazy to turn on the aircon at the moment…

Almost dozing off, you heard a hesitant couple of knocks at your door, almost groaning in annoyance as you heaved yourself off of your couch.

Your parents had thrown many fits about how persistent door-to-door salesmen were back here in Corland Bay, so you already knew how you felt about people trying to get their hands in your wallet.

You threw open the door and plastered on a close-eyed grin, “I’m not buying anything,” and promptly began to shut the door before you heard a soft noise of surprise.

“Wait!” The stranger stuck his hand right in between your door frame and your quickly closing door, “Ah-!” He hissed a little under his breath but his expression quickly relaxed when he saw you looking at him.

“Oh shit.” You looked at his hand, now red from the impact and then back at him.

That’s when it hit you. You gulped, trying to repress any of your delusional thoughts from coming out of your mouth or your jaw dropping to the ground.

This guy was cute as fuck.

You would buy anything from him, any day of the week. Even though it was summer, if he wanted to buy you a hot chocolate, you would gladly accept.

I mean, whaaat??? That’d be crazy. That’d be so down bad of you…

I mean, just cause he was the prettiest, most awe-striking, adorable guy you’d seen in ever, doesn’t mean you had to get on one knee for him-

Even if he was your future husband, not like he’d want you after you slammed the door on his hand―

“Oh shit.” You quickly grabbed his hand, “Uh, my bad, dude.” ‘My bad, dude’??? That was the best you could do?! Dumbass! “Didn’t, uh, didn’t think telemarketers these days were so persistent, damn…”

The stranger, rapidly blinking his eyes to shift his focus from ‘fuck, were you holding his hand????’ to ‘ohmygod angel is so cute when panicked!!’ before slowly answering your remark, “U-Uh… I’m your neighbour, aha…” They managed as you gently held their hand after having slammed on it, grabbing a pack of ice from your freezer. “I’m, uh, Ren. I wanted to w-welcome you to the building?”

Well, that made things considerably worse.

Not only had you mistaken him for a scammer, you had slammed a door on his hand! And were forcing him to endure conversation with you!

This could physically not get worse.

“Aha, yeah. Nice to meet you,” You quickly introduced your name, age and pronouns, “I really am sorry about the conditions though…” You awkwardly chuckled to yourself, “Uh, take a seat or something, if you… y’know maybe wanna stay? I’m really sorry, I can give you some cash as an apology?” You didn’t really know what to do when you injured someone or how to apologize to be precise. What does one do in that situation?

“Ah, no, no! Don’t worry yourself over that!” He frantically waved, ‘wincing’ at the pain in his hand. “I’m sure it’s just a bruise if you’re worried about anything like that! I’ve had worse injuries! You’re too kind to me, angel…” He muttered something at the end of his dialogue but you couldn’t quite make it out.

He looked up at you with small pleading eyes, “But if you want to pay me back… maybe we could hang out for lunch? I mean, I-I do want to know a little more about my new neighbour, you know?” He quickly backtracked, face flushing, “But i-if you don’t want to, I completely understand! …I know it’s a little forward of me…”

“O-Oh, sure! Yeah, I’d be, I’d be down for that!” You hastily agreed, anything so this wouldn’t be held over your head. You didn’t need someone being mad at you your first day in the apartment complex, much less your neighbour!

Plus, he seemed cute, wouldn’t hurt to get to know him better… right?

You made eye contact with the small Haruko character stand on display in your living room and back at the stranger, picking up quite a few similarities.

Nope.

You weren’t going to ask that and get someone weirded out, now is not the time.

“I, uh, should probably change then.” You gestured to your clothes that while comfortable in the solace of your home, were not too comfortable in public. Where people could see you.

“A-Ah, of course!” His face perked up and a wide grin took over, as he fiddled with the sleeves, “I-I’ll wait for you here?”

“Yeah, I won’t take too long, don’t worry!” You hurriedly made your way to your bedroom, leaving Ren by himself in your living room.

He hummed to himself excited, practically vibrating on the spot. He was in your living room! He took a couple photos of the layout so he could remember it when he came to visit later that night…

To be fair, he hadn’t expected you to actually let him in on the first try… Angel, you were too kind! One day, some bad person was going to take advantage of that… But he’d be there to protect you so it’s alright then!

Luckily, he’d brought a couple of cameras with him, [REDACTED] wasn’t stupid. He glanced around for a couple blind spots where you wouldn’t see them and slapped them around, even putting one right near your Haruko character stand before pausing.

He hissed under his breath a little, “What do you have that I don’t…?” before returning to his spot on the couch.

You were still in your room, humming along to one of your new favorite songs… for now.

You had taken off your top before pausing in realization. Your cute new neighbour…was wearing two fucking layers. Including a knitted cardigan.

What psychopath was that?!

Mm, nah. He probably just ran cold. Could be a medical condition, or he’s really dedicated to his outfit and aesthetic.

He’s too cute to be a psychopath.

You quickly changed into a normal fitting t-shirt and a pair of sport shorts before grabbing a small backpack before heading out to your living room.

“Alright, Ren. Ready to go?” You hadn’t changed much per se, but you changed enough so you would look good enough.

Now that Ren thought about it, you had been wearing clothes you looked and felt comfortable in… Ugh! He should’ve taken more notes!

Gah, if only he wasn’t so fixated on how pretty you were, how nice you smelled if he leaned in close enough, or how many eyelashes you had on each eyes…!

Ren sat there, out of comission for a couple moments before eagerly nodding, “Mhm! Yeah! Whenever you are, angel~!”

You paused in your tracks, “Um… angel?”

An akward and embarassed look made its way to his face. “Aha… s-sorry… You’re just, really nice, and really good looking. …Do you mind it? Because if it makes you uncomfortable…!” He let the rest of his sentence hang in the air.

You mulled it over. It had definitely been a first for cute guys to want to call you a petname… But you weren’t arguing!

“Mmm… I don’t mind. I’ve never been called that before, so it was a first. But if it makes you happy, then go ahead, I guess.” You paused, before remembering a playful comment Moth had made a while back grimacing with good-natured intent. “But I’m not calling you my ‘little kitten-whiskers’ or anything like that though…”

“Ah, of course not!” He flushed, elated at the mere fact that you were letting him call you ‘angel!’ “Shall we get going then?”

He couldn’t believe it! You let him call you ‘angel,’ which obviously meant you liked him enough for it, right?

And if you liked him now, with enough time, you’d be sure to love him!

#14 days with you #ren 14dwy #ren x reader #yandere #visual novel #ren 14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy ren #✨ full fic

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cadavercowboy · 2 years ago

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I'll Paint You Mornings Of Gold

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You’re the most special thing Eddie has in his life, he just wants to make sure you know it.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: I’m soft.

The air makes his eyes burn and itch the moment he peels them open, and he does so with a long, low groan. Eddie is never up before the sun; in fact, he’s typically just easing his tired body into bed right around the time that it begins to peek up over the horizon to welcome the day. But today is different. Today is special.

He’s had a fitful night of rest; so worried that he’d accidentally oversleep and ruin the surprise he has planned, but he’s up now and he smiles with excitement and relief. Rolling to his side, he peers down at you with pure adoration in his sleep-swollen eyes. Your face is pressed deep into his pillow, mouth pushed into a cute little pout that he simply can’t resist. He leans in, dropping a whisper of a kiss on your dry lips before pressing another to your temple. As much as he would love to lay here soaking up your warmth and admiring how precious you are while you sleep, he has much to do.

Dressed only in his boxers, Eddie carefully extracts himself from beneath your shared blanket and shivers slightly at the chill in the room. His rings catch on a tangle in his long hair as he scratches lazily at his scalp. He pads barefoot to the tiny kitchen, stretching his long arms over his head before flipping on the overhead light.

The fluorescent light within the fridge is blinding and Eddie squints one eye against the offensive glow as he reaches in for the orange juice. He twists the cap off and tips his head back to chug the sweet juice straight from the carton — the way Uncle Wayne has always told him not to — until he quenches his thirst.

Effectively satisfied, he haphazardly returns the container to its rightful shelf and pulls open a drawer to grab a few eggs, then the carton of milk. He makes sure to check the milk’s expiration date, a habit borne of a late-night lesson he once had to learn the hard way. Dropping the items on the counter next to the stove, he tries to remember the rest of the ingredients he needs, but fails to do so off the top of his head. Instead, he rummages through the messy countertop in search of the small wooden box containing all of the recipes Wayne had inherited from his mother.

Bending at the waist, Eddie leans in close to read the tiny, cursive writing labeling the stack of creased and stained cards. Some of them are so intricately scrawled that he’s positive they aren’t even in English. Eventually, he locates the recipe for his grandma’s famous chocolate cake and he plucks the card out, holding it up to read it better in the low light of the kitchen.

Eddie fumbles about the small space; gathering various ingredients, tools, and bowls as he gets to work. He makes sure to read every instruction and step at least three times because he knows the risk of mistake is high, seeing as he’s never baked anything besides himself. He wants to get this exactly right for you, though.

The kitchen fills up with more and more bowls and dirty utensils as Eddie whips up the cake batter. Admittedly, he makes twice the mess because he keeps tossing mixing spoons and measuring cups into the sink before he realizes that he still needs them for the rest of the recipe. Plus, there’s the bowl he initially started off using, which ended up being way too small if the puddle of spilled chocolate goo from when he tried stirring is anything to go by.

He’s been trying very hard to keep quiet so as not to wake you up, but still manages to drop a large steel bowl and knock his head off of an open cabinet door. Thankfully, he’d left a fan running in his bedroom which seems to have drowned out at least some of the noise, though that doesn’t make him feel much better about his throbbing skull.

By the time Eddie slides the messy pans into the hot oven, his hands are a gluey mess, layers of flour seem to blanket the whole room, and chocolate stains the corners of his wide mouth from when he’d tested his batter. More times than strictly necessary, probably. He reads the cracked clock above the stove and makes a mental note to check on his creation in about 20 minutes.

In the meantime, Eddie sneaks back to his room and gently opens the door to peek in on you. To his relief, he finds you still very much asleep. A small smile curls his lips and nervous excitement churns in his stomach. His growling stomach.

Back to the kitchen he heads, although he’s too tired — or rather, lazy — to make much of an effort for breakfast. The half-open package of chocolate chip cookies will do just fine. He grabs a small stack, shoving two into his mouth and crunching away happily as he creaks the oven door open to check on the cakes. They’ve risen a bit and seem to be cooking nicely — as far as he can tell — which Eddie can’t help being just a little proud of. He closes the door with more force than he intends, shoving yet another dry cookie between his lips.

Brushing crumbs off of his hands, Eddie lights up with an idea. He strides purposefully to the front door and slips out of the trailer. The air outside is crisp and fresh with the unfamiliar scent of early morning and Eddie breathes it in deeply. He plods barefoot down the wooden stairs and steps into the dewy grass before crossing the yard.

At the edge of the property sits a clump of tiny, pink wildflowers that Eddie knows you’ll love. He plucks one little bunch, pinching the delicate blossoms between his fingers as he sniffs their light, perfumed aroma. A chill hangs in the air and the encroaching sunlight makes the yard sparkle as if it’s full of diamonds. Eddie has to admit he kind of enjoys being up this early and he spends a few minutes taking it all in.

Panic rips through Eddie’s body and he stands swiftly, nearly sprinting back to the trailer when he remembers about his cakes still cooking in the oven. He enters the kitchen in a rush, frantically searching for something to put your flowers in. The first thing he spots is Wayne’s empty prescription bottle on the top of the pile of trash in the bin. It’s weird and kind of tacky, but he runs to the sink to add a little water and plops the miniature bouquet into the perfectly-sized yellow cylinder.

One problem handled, Eddie wrenches the oven all the way open. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees his cakes are perfectly safe and actually look quite good. With the threadbare oven mitts, he carefully removes the pans from the rack, only burning the tip of one finger in the process. The cakes are gently turned out onto a cooling rack — as per Grandma Munson’s instructions — and Eddie admires the soft, perfectly baked rounds.

While he waits for the cakes to cool, he digs in the pantry for the canister of frosting he knows he bought last weekend. He exclaims victoriously when he locates it, peeling back the plastic lid to dip his finger into the sugary glaze then into his mouth for a taste. It’s then that he has a horrible realization.

“Shit,” Eddie hisses, tongue flicking out to lick his sticky lips. “Fucking candles.”

His palm cracks loudly against his forehead when he slaps it and he pushes his bangs up out of his face. He can’t believe he forgot what is arguably the most important part of a birthday cake. There’s got to be something he can do to remedy this.

Eddie spins in a slow circle, eyes scanning the room for a solution. He stops and stares at his uncle’s half-empty pack of Marlboro’s, scratching contemplatively at his chin for a long while. Well, that’s kind of a candle, he thinks to himself before ultimately deciding against that option. He doubts ash and chocolate are your favorite flavor combination and he knows you would never let him live down how white trash it is to use a cigarette as a candle. You deserve better, anyway.

Tabling this issue for later, Eddie presses a wide hand to the bare cakes to determine whether they’re ready to be frosted yet. A small bit of warmth emanates from the spongy surface, but he knows he doesn’t have long before you wake and he wants to make sure he can still surprise you.

He tosses the bottom layer onto a plate, giggling to himself at the way it flops and thuds dully against the ceramic dishware. With a spoon that is much too small for the task, he scoops a blob of frosting onto the first half of the cake. Using the back of the tiny spoon, he spreads it around, cringing when the surface of the cake begins to crumble and peel as he passes the gooey frosting over the top of it. Things seem to be going downhill fast as Eddie frosts with haste before ultimately deciding that he doesn’t have time to be careful and meticulous.

Discarding the dirtied spoon into the sink with a loud clatter, Eddie shoves two long fingers into the container of frosting. It squishes between the digits and he tries not to think too hard about the uncomfortable sensation. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he plops a wad of chocolate down and spreads it messily over every inch of the cake. Working swiftly, he stacks on the second layer of cake, albeit a bit sloppily and lopsided. Digging into the canister again, he smothers the rest of the cake in a thick coating of icing until it looks like something somewhat resembling a decent chocolate cake.

Eddie drags his frosting-coated fingers across his tongue, sucking the sweet confection from his fingers so as not to waste any of it. With a final search of the pantry, he desperately looks for something he can use for candles. Amongst the boxes of rice and instant potatoes, he sees it…the perfect substitution.

He washes his hands quickly and dries them on his boxers before shoving his replacement candles into your cake, then grabs the heavy plate and the little makeshift vase containing the flowers he picked for you earlier.

He can hardly contain himself as he walks down the hallway, pushing his bedroom door open with his foot. The small yellow bottle nearly tips over when he places it down on his dresser, though he catches it before it does. Glancing in your direction, Eddie ensures you’re still asleep as he carefully places the plate of cake near the foot of the bed, being extra careful not to get any chocolate on his blankets as the heat of the cake begins to melt the frosting and allow the top layer to slide and shift.

Perching at the edge of the mattress, Eddie situates himself beside your sleeping form. He leans over you, letting the ends of his hair brush along your arm as he traces a line of kisses across your shoulder and up to your warm cheek. You begin to stir and he kisses you more firmly, his lips skimming the corner of yours as your eyes flutter open.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Eddie whispers through a smile when you turn to kiss him back.

Eddie sits upright when you finally wake and grin tiredly at him. He can’t stay still; hips shifting restlessly and his palms rubbing nervously against his bare thighs. You find his behavior a bit suspicious, even more so when you spot a strange, powdery white substance around his left nostril. Your suspicion is instantly dampened when you also notice what appears to be chocolate smeared across his clean-shaven chin.

“Thanks, Ed,” you respond, your voice still raspy with sleep. “You got some shit on your face.”

You can’t imagine how he could look any more guilty as Eddie scrubs at his mouth with the back of his ringed hand. Though you ask him what it is, he advises you not to be concerned, instead twisting sideways to grab his lighter from the dresser.

“I made ya somethin’,” he chirps giddily as he turns away from you.

The distinct sound of the lighter’s wheel grinding and the flame igniting fills the room and you begin to smell something strange. Eddie’s back muscles bunch and pull taught, though you can’t figure out what he’s doing. You don’t get the chance to ask before Eddie peers over his shoulder at you.

“Okay, close your eyes,” he instructs. “And promise you won’t laugh.”

Unfortunately, Eddie’s request immediately makes you laugh and he’s quick to scold you playfully for it. With a final check to make sure you aren’t looking, Eddie slips one palm under the plate then turns back in your direction and lays his other hand over your eyes just to be certain you can’t see.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” you giggle. “It’s too early for this, just let me see it!”

“Listen, it’s ugly…so you can’t look directly at it okay?” he warns, telling you to open your eyes even though his hand still blocks your vision.

Eventually, Eddie gives you permission to look, but only allows you to do so through the small space he opens between his fingers. Your lashes tickle his hand and he watches your eyes light up when you see what he holds.

“You made me a cake?!” you wonder aloud, not sure why your eyes well with tears.

“‘Course I did, beautiful,” he says, removing his hand from your face. “Now blow these things out and make a wish before we burn my whole room down.”

It’s then that you notice what the cake is decorated with. You can’t believe it at first, but upon closer inspection, the thin yellow objects are undeniable.

“Eddie, is that…is that spaghetti?” you ask in disbelief.

“I forgot to get candles,” he admits sheepishly.

You really laugh then, utterly amused by your boyfriend’s determination to amend his small mishap. It’s things like this that remind you how much you love Eddie and the sheer ridiculousness of him, the soreness in your belly only solidifying how funny he is. Upon his insistence, you do blow out the candles, although you’re not sure what to wish for when you have everything you want right in front of you.

“Thank you for making me a cake,” you remark, your hands pressed against your cheeks as you smile uncontrollably over Eddie’s sweet gesture.

“Sorry it’s not very pretty.”

Eddie begins to pluck the uncooked spaghetti from the cake, laying the burnt bits of pasta along the edge of the cake.

“As long as it tastes good, who cares,” you encourage.

With a mischievous smirk, Eddie digs his fingers into the cake, gouging a chunk out and stuffing it into his mouth. He chews thoughtfully for a moment, beginning to nod slowly as he hums. Licking his lips, he hums even more loudly as if thinking deeply about it.

“Pretty good,” he declares. “Wanna taste?”

You nod in affirmation and reach for the plate, confused when Eddie takes it away from you. He shoves the cake onto his cluttered dresser then crowds your space, his lips puckered expectantly. When you don’t immediately take the hint, he grabs you and pulls you into a deep kiss. His lips are tinged with the rich flavor of the cake and you agree that it tastes delicious when he slips his tongue against yours. Eddie deepens the kiss, shifting his weight to press his pelvis against yours before he pulls away and allows you to take a breath. Your palms glide along the firm planes of his abdomen and you look up at him, eyes burning with both love and lust.

“Is this my gift?” you question, batting your eyes as your fingers journey lower.

Eddie gasps as your inquiry prompts him to hop out of the bed. First, he hands you the little bouquet of pretty flowers in their absurd container, then he yanks open the middle drawer of his dresser, rummaging through the piles of poorly folded clothing in search of something. He produces a small rectangle wrapped in newspaper and sealed tight with a questionable amount of tape.

He offers the compact package to you with a flourish, plopping down next to you and shaking the entire bed in the process. As you turn over the object in your hand, Eddie reaches between the mattress and the boxspring to pull out a large manila envelope that he lays in your lap for you to open next.

You begin to pick away at the tape, looking for a good place to start tearing away the thin paper; however, Eddie has ensconced the entire thing quite thoroughly. He fidgets down by your legs, his fingers now fiddling with his necklace as he drags the pendant back and forth along the chain. The longer it takes you to open your gift, the more worked up Eddie seems to get. Now he’s running the necklace over his mouth and taking it between his lips which he mashes anxiously along the thin piece of jewelry. It’s a quirk you’ve noticed he has when he’s feeling particularly squirrelly.

“What, is this a bomb or something?” you tease, nudging him with your knee. “Why’re you so nervous, kid?”

“Just worried if you’re gonna like it,” he confesses, nodding towards your gifts.

Assuaging his fears, you finally manage to unwrap the first one, inhaling with genuine surprise as the cassette falls into your hand. You recognize Eddie’s somewhat sloppy writing indicating the tracks contained on the tape. It’s a mixture of some of Eddie’s favorite bands — ones that you’ve come to enjoy too, songs you both love, as well as a few songs you’ve never heard of; something Eddie has obviously put a lot of thought into. You cradle the mixtape gently in your hands, running your fingers along the edges as you appreciate the effort Eddie had put into it.

“Some of your favorites and some new stuff I think you’ll like,” Eddie explains, pleased with your joyous smile.

“I’ve always wanted a mixtape. And it’s even more special coming from you,” you assure him with sincerity. “Thank you, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie’s smile falls flat the moment you utter the silly moniker.

“That nickname is not staying,” he warns you with a somber shake of his head. “Definitely not.”

“Hmm. I guess we’ll see about that,” you dismiss as you open the flap of the envelope Eddie had given you earlier.

Reaching inside, you pinch the single piece of paper you find within and carefully slide it out. Your eyes fall to the black and white sketch and you have to reach up to swipe at your cheek so that the tear it elicits does not drip onto the delicate paper and ruin the gorgeous illustration.

“Do you hate it that much?” Eddie jokes unsurely when he spies the trickling tears.

“Oh, Eddie,” you sob, hurling yourself into him to wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s beautiful, you idiot.”

He wraps you up in his arms, pulls you close to his bare chest and kisses your shoulder as you sniffle into his hair — which smells suspiciously like chocolate. His wide palm rubs a soothing circle against your spine while he holds you. As you revel in Eddie’s embrace, you hold up the drawing still in your hand and study the unbelievable artwork. Eddie has drawn an illustration of you both, but as characters from your favorite movie. Him holding a pair of magical orbs while dressed in overly tight gray pants with a spikey, fantastical hairdo and you draped in a sparkly white masquerade gown. A goblin king and his queen.

When you pull away, Eddie stops you before you can settle back into the spot you were sitting in before. His hot palms cradle your face and he stares into your eyes with a breathtakingly deep look of affection. You smile in return, allowing your eyes to shut when he daintily kisses your tear-streaked cheeks then wipes the moisture away with his thumbs.

“We have to frame it,” you announce, as Eddie plucks the drawing from you and puts it safely back in the envelope.

He takes the cassette from you as well, overjoyed when you ask him to listen to it with you, practically bouncing up and down as you do. He’s more than happy to fulfill the request and inserts the tape into his stereo system, turning the volume knob to a reasonable level.

Eddie returns, crawling around you to climb back into bed and wiggle his way beneath the blankets. He situates himself, fluffing the pillows and tucking himself in before lifting the comforter to invite you to join him. You do so with pleasure, snuggling into his side and resting your head just below his chest. His warmth bleeds into the skin of your cheek and you sigh happily. As your fingers draw absent-minded patterns over his torso, you notice a streak of chocolate staining just below Eddie’s left ribs and can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes you.

“Hey, Ed?” you wonder, tilting your head to look up at him.

“Hmm?” he hums lowly, eyes already shut.

“Did you eat cake for breakfast?”

Eddie does not immediately respond, although his eyes flash open quite fast. He stares up at the ceiling for a long moment, his lips pinched shut with guilt as yours strain against the laughter you try to hold back.

“No.”

The response is suspiciously succinct for your normally long-winded and talkative boyfriend. He dares to glance down at you and sees your dubious expression.

“Had cookies,” he admits, his voice a teeny, tiny peep as he smirks sleepily.

You lay back down then, your head rising and falling with each steady breath Eddie takes. His strong fingertips drag with blissful tenderness along your scalp as he lightly plays with your hair and lulls you into a sedated state. As the stereo begins to play a familiar tune, you smile and turn to bury your face into Eddie’s side.

“This is the song that played on our first date,” you murmur reminiscently.

The only response you receive is a guttural moan of agreement from above you. Tilting your head once more, you learn the reason why Eddie sounds like a zombie is that he’s nearly asleep; practically melting into his pillows and no longer fighting as he succumbs to slumber.

Between waking up so early and taking on the ever-stressful endeavor of baking his very first cake, Eddie is exhausted. He could barely keep his eyes open for more than 10 seconds after laying down. Not to mention that the heat of your body and the all-encompassing peace that accompanies your very presence isn’t helping matters much.

Your fingers drift over Eddie’s side, barely making contact with the flesh. His arm remains wrapped around you, though it falls a bit limp as he drifts away. The sun is just beginning to peek in through the curtain, but you don’t mind staying here a while longer before you start your day. Among the rhythmic sound of the heartbeat you can barely make out through your human pillow, you listen to the remainder of the mixtape on your own; a contented smile on your lips as you bask in the spicy scent of Eddie’s soft skin and realize this might be the best birthday you’ve ever had.

“I love you,” you whisper — your voice so quiet Eddie probably wouldn’t hear you even if he were awake — before adding, “Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Love you too, my little meatball.”

Joseph Quinn Masterlist ✦ Writing Masterpost

#i threw this together last night so if you think it's bad pls don't @ me #let’s be honest i really wrote this for me and mir and our love for labyrinth #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #joseph quinn fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction

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confusedbuddyboi · 10 months ago

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This is my first fic agere stuff, so I wanted to try espresso and Madeline, cause I can see them in my mind easily. :] btw this isnt edited so spelling errors possible and likely. This is inspired by the winter snow! It's made me excited! Also lmk if anyone's got ideas or such for other stuff! My ask box is always open even memes.

Fic under cut!

/I'll start this with saying I'm horrendous at guessing ages in general not even regressing. So most of my regression ideas here aren't based on specifics of ages and how they grow, but how a charather generally might act. Espresso seems like someone who even when regressed likes to try and be “a big kid” the main thing is regressed hes more open to offerings of help and general silliness. He also relaxes and is a lot less stressed\

Espresso was staring out the window, distracted from there work for a long moment. It was a gentle flurry, but the snow has been layering like powdered sugar on everything. Espresso realized they hadn't even realized the snow starting, he didn't mind the cold however. Being made with espresso kept him warm so he could really soak in the sight.

He never admit it but the winter weather made him a bit giddy. He always thought of when he would go out and play in the snow with his siblings. Latte would help build a snowman while cappuccino would be found making snow angels. Espresso had been much younger than his siblings but minus snow ball fights he never felt left behind in snowy fun.

“Ohhh espresso!” A joyful voice sang turning the corner seeing espresso turn from their window watching. Normally when Madeline came in espresso would jump, like a bundle of nerves, or scold him for being so sneaky when coming in. However right now espresso simply hummed, tilting his head a bit tired as always however.

Madeline gave a gentle “ah” as he realized espresso was likely regressing. Sometimes it was hard to tell, as espresso tended to fight it off wanting to work. Thankfully for Madeline the snow made espresso more willing to slip to a younger mindset without fighting it. “well, would you like to bundle up for a bit of time outside?” “you just got back from patrol though, your probably freezing” Madeline shook his hand in a ‘dont worry’ gesture. “I'll change into better layers and warm up while we but you in some winter ware,” he smiled “besides the hot chocolate taste better after a winter walk”

Eventually Madeline got his layers on first and quickly. He came back to espresso trying his best to put on the layers himself. He got the shirt and pants on fine, but was struggling with the zipper on coat. He was starting to get huffy as it didn't connect properly at the bottom. Madeline came over espresso likes to try and do big things on his own. “Can I help you buddy?” Espresso pouted wanting to get it done himself, trying once again not answering.

“Hey, you got your layers on. I'm proud of you but even big boys need help. Like I might need you to hold my hand to help me down the stairs, theyre a bit slippery!” it a moment but espresso let go of the zipper “ok”. Madeline knew it was better to tell espresso he was a big boy, or else he might get fussy. Even as a little he was always trying to be self-sufficient.

Eventually they made it out the door “hold my hand till we down the stairs ok? I don't want us to fall!” espresso beamed happy to help. “Here be careful ok! I'll be watching you!” Espresso decided to flop down and start making a string of snow angels, he looked over and urged Madeline over. “Make some too!” Madeline was cold, but with how espresso beamed excited trying to make a big circle of them, he couldn't resist.

Eventually they finished them and espresso giggled. Giddy with the masterpiece they made. Madeline brushed off the snow stuck to him and espresso before letting him explore a bit more. The snow wasn't wet enough for snowmen which made him a bit sad but settled on drawing in the snow with a stick.

Eventually espresso had enough outside, and headed inside. Madeline kept his promise of hot chocolate, letting it cool down before he put it in a sippy cup. Espresso was beaming bringing his coat to Madeline having taken off his layers. “Look! I got it off on my own!” He said excited. Madeline ruffled espresso hair a bit. “Great job! I got some hot chocolate to warm you up.” He was surprised when espresso held out the coat. “Could you put it on the rack?” Madeline smiled a bit and took it, “sure bud. Here yah go” espresso took it and darted to the couch and it's covers. “Thank you!”

#age regression #cookie run age regression #agere #agere fic #sfw agere #cookie run agere

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vanshookie · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Nanami Kento/reader

Word Count: 5865 words

Summary: Moving into a new town is anxiety inducing, but it helps when kindness of strangers occurs.

Content/Warnings: Slice of Life, Drabbles, Fluff, sprinkles of Angst, Gender Neutral

Series Masterlist

No matter how organised one can be, moving house is always super stressful. You could fine tune every detail and likely something will still go wrong. And due to the high pressure of moving, even just a coffee order going wrong could shoot up blood pressure.

However, despite your organisational prowess, you still had everything going wrong. The rain was heavy, everyone cancelled and you can’t even have a instant coffee due to the fact that you packed absolutely everything last night.

The goal was to handle as much as possible before people came to help. Making sure to pack everything up and sealed them tight in the early hours of today. It was to avoid making anyone work too hard but now has come to haunt you. With no one here to help, the only person who benefits from your all nighter is apparently you.

You were not feeling like it helped as you feel the disks in your back grate against each other as you try to maintain the correct lifting form in your zombie state.

Mid-way to your car you question if you even brought your keys. that was another fun part of today was the atrocious memory, you had already done this walk 5 times and forgot yours keys and this time it was a box of dry food you didn’t want to soak in the torrential rainfall.

Oxygen re-enters your lungs when you see you left your car door slightly open, ignoring the normal anxiety that internet horror stories taught you; to fear something sneaking in while you were away. You place the last box of kitchen items and slam the door happily.

Then you check your pockets for the keys. They are not there. Lucky it was open you guess… Where are they then? You quickly look to the ignition and pray you haven’t just left your keys in the car.

They are in the car.

Clearly that was the cars fault, so it is met with a swift kick and then a scream angrily echos the neighbourhood cause damn that was a good kick to smash your foot.

The place you are leaving is a high rise apartment but the parking is not under the building. It is across the street so everyone got to see you furiously yelling in the storm. Of course when you live in an area like this; no one cares.

You check all the car doors handles with anxious passion. None of them are open. You check the backseats for the horror story stalker to help you, they sadly weren’t there when needed. You check the trunk and it opens!

You shove yourself in and open the centre seat window. All you got was to see the keys in another perspective cause no way were you squishing yourself through. As you were doing this, the previous uncaring people around you when you were having the breakdown can now speak up.

The poetic phrase they jeer is “nice ass”, and normally you would have a few choice words to say and wish you could say them but life decided smacking your head while trying to get out and do that was a better alternative.

Hopping out you feel the tears to start to gather again, why is it going so wrong? Throwing up the middle finger as you walk away, you walk into the lobby of the building to the elevator.

Thankfully, unlike the car, you did not lock your apartment as nothing much to steal right now. The movers had already picked up all the large furniture and a few boxes that you did not think you could fit In your tiny car.

Thinking ahead, you only left the things that were essential and did not want to re-purchase if anything got lost. You see only three more small boxes and a few ikea and daiso bags packed with random things.

The counter was clear apart from your phone on there charger. Grabbing it you call the person you need most.

“Shokoooooo, I need youuu” you immediately cry as you hear the phone dial tone stopping.

“Sorry I can’t get to the phone right now, most like in surgery if you can’t reach me”

This is it, you finally have reached the limit. You lie flat on the ground and let the tears fall. Everything this morning was planned to a finite detail yet all you are brought is suffering.

Admitting defeat an uber is ordered. Trying to still somewhat be helpful, you type a long winded message explaining how much stuff you have and that the car will need to fit it. The driver gets there rather quickly. He introduces himself as Iijichi.

Honestly he was highlight of your day, he did not want you to carry anymore things so he told you to stay as he did the trips, leaving you with just your handbag to worry about. He came back with only sweat on his brow and a strawberry and cream lollipop.

You both do a double check together, nothing really to note apart from a few things you thought may be nice for the next tenants. Then Iijichi finds something that makes you want to return to the floor, your spare car fob.

You feel your head go red and want to faint but Iijichi helps you see the bright side. He can head to the address alongside you and help you bring the boxes in. It initially causes you to feel a bit suspicious, maybe he wants to steal your very exquisite random assortment of house supplies. However he walks the carpark and begins to move your things in from your car.

He explains during this that he actually knows a few of the people at your new place. This lifts your spirits even more!

“Oh that’s brilliant! What kind of people are my new neighbours?” You help him move some of the stuff but once again he only leaves you the easy bags to lift into the front seat.

“Hmm there’s a bunch of brilliantly minded kids and some very respectable men” He says with his eyes shifting. He sees you lift your brow again and quickly covers himself.

“The owner is kind of an obnoxious guy but he means well, however trust me that if anyone messes with you, the others will likely have your back”

“Oh that’s nice! Hopefully I fit in” You feel reassured but slight anxiety rises, it sounds like this is a very established neighbourhood, hopefully your presence does not bother them.

With that, Iijichi makes sure you are ready and wearing your belt and gets in his car, ready to follow.

———

You arrive at the apartments with several missed calls, Iijichi quickly catches up to and asks what’s the plan.

“Um I have to catch up with some calls, can I give you my keys and you start moving this?”

“Sounds good!” He smiles and begins his task.

He doesn’t even seem to need to check the keys and knows where to move your stuff.

You quickly move under the cover, near apartment 1B. The neighbourhood despite being talked up by Iijichi, is actually very quiet currently. Nobody actually seems to be home, or the eyes that you feel on you are hiding as well.

(3) missed calls, (70) messages

Oh god that’s a lot of messages, mostly from Shoko but have to prioritise the movers.

“Hey sorry for missing your call! I was driving” You quickly apologise.

“All good, i’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but due to the weather circumstances, we can’t bring your belongings tonight but hopefully it clears up in the morning.”

“Ah okay that’s alright, there won’t be any additional costs right?”

“Not at all… apart from potential added time of travel as the cost is calculated from the hourly rate, the truck will keep your stuff untouched at the facility under cover free of charge, we should have rescheduled this morning when the weather was showing signs of storms”

“Well to be honest, im very glad you didn’t cause I had to have the place cleared tonight, I hope your workers have stay safe in the storm” You can hear your own customer service voice and cringe inwardly.

“Thank you for your kindness, will see you once the weather clears” The man ends the call and you pause,

see you once the weather clears

Does this mean that if this doesn’t clear up, you won’t get your stuff for longer. You feel a headache come on and pinch the bridge of your nose.

You hear footsteps behind you and go to greet them. Yet your phone has other plans and blasts Shoko’s personal ringtone; Barbie girl.

You fumble the phone in embarrassment, hoping that it is just Iijichi behind you to get more boxes, the being watched feeling just must be lingering anxiety.

“Shoko! You scared me, I hate the ringtone at this point” You grumble and clutch the phone to your head and hunch, acting as if anyone cares to listen to your conversation.

“(Y/N)!! You do not have room to complain! You called me earlier and it was just a voicemail saying you needed me! I’m normally very happy to have you flirting but you sounded not okay!” Shoko complains at you, you can almost hear the cigarette burning away as she neglects it on the other hand.

“Oh! I didn’t think it sent, I’m sorry” and you genuinely meant it, you knew better than to stress Shoko at work.

“Hm, I expect more apologies when I see you, you must grovel” She chides.

“I promise I will, full bow on my knees at your feet, I really didn’t mean to worry you”

You hear the steps behind you pick up again, Instead of the lovely Iijichi, it was a blonde man. He wore a tan suit and navy shirt. You feel your face go red, praying he only just showed up.

He doesn’t seem phased though and begins to also help you lift stuff, Iijichi catching up and smiling at the man and turns to you with a thumb point at the man. You shyly give a thumbs up and point to the phone.

Iijichi nods with a mock salute while the blonde mans disposition does not change as he passes boxes to Iijichi. His face is flat and seems to be used that resting face as the creases of stress on his face direct it to be true.

“(Y/N) are you listening? I asked what was wrong? I was in surgery and getting a voice call like that scared the life out of me” Shoko’s voice is flat but knowing her better, she really is somewhat affected at this.

“Again I’m so sorry Ieiri-chan, It’s moving day and everything went wrong but Ive got it handled now!”

“What went wrong? Do you still need my help?” You can hear her grab her keys and pace.

“No, it’s okay, weirdly enough my uber driver is helping me”

“(Y/N)!! You know better than to trust strangers, let alone men!”

“I knooooow, but he knows my neighbours! I called cause I lost my car keys and he helped me!! Then he found my keys, honestly he saved my day”

You hear her click her tongue and sit down, successfully calm her down.

“What happened to my help? He said he’d be there” You guess she lights a new cigarette by the sounds of a lighter flicking.

“Yeah seemingly no show, it’s okay, I was also supposed to have more help and the weather was not my friend today”

“I’ll kill Gojo next time I see him I swear” You hear her mutter.

“Don’t! Its okay, I have to go to help them but Ill call you in the morning okay?”

“Okay, wait what do you mean them?!-“ you hang up before she finishes, oh she’s gonna be pissed. You quickly type a message.

‘Iijichi seems to have got one of my neighbours to help! Don’t worry, I’ll text you when i'm done’

You quickly trot to the car and look to see what you can hold, again you are meet by just your handbag and grocery bag of linen.

Huffing you lock the car and go up stairs to your new home. Iijichi is waiting next to the Blonde man in the kitchen section.

“He-“ You begin to greet but are interrupted.

“Nanami-san, this is (Y/N), your new neighbour everyone has been talking about!” He gives a little show off gesture to you.

You feel your face crease confusion yet ‘Nanami’s’ does not. He takes off his lenses and gives you a light bow.

“Nice to meet you (Y/N)-san, I’m glad to be the first to meet you”

You lift your hand up to give a handshake, which he accepts with a firm one back. If you had to rate it, you would say it was the optimum business handshake, all bosses would be incredibly impressed by his handshake finesse.

“Pleased to meet you! Thank you so much for your help, I can’t thank you enough” You nod your head in thanks as well.

“All is well, I apologise for almost interrupting your call, it sounded… important”

Oh no… he heard your grovelling to Shoko, so unfortunate out of context, or even with it.

“Haha ha… It’s okay! It was my friend, she was very worried after I had an unlucky day”

“That is most unfortunate, I hope our help was a positive”

“I really can’t thank you both enough, it was a highlight if my day!” You clasp your hands. “Oh! If you want I can make you a hot drink as a small thanks!” You begin to look for the coffee maker.

“That would be lovely, but I have to continue lifts” Iijichi itches his cheek.

“My goodness, I’m sorry! I held you back so much”

“No! don’t worry, I'm glad to be this helpful, trust me Nanami-san is one of the men I talked about” Iijichi winked and began to head off. You see Nanami raise an eyebrow at that but you turn to walk Iijichi to the door before questioned.

You wait for Iijichi to leave and quickly check the app to give him a good tip but it looks like he canceled! Way to dodge getting appreciation, you will get him back.

“Well, do you want one?” You swiftly turn to Nanami and he nods.

You begin to look at the boxes and suddenly feel worry rise again. You didn’t label the boxes!

Sensing your emotions, Nanami approaches. “What is wrong, if you are tired you don’t need to make me anything” he reassures.

“It’s not that, I seemingly forgot to label these boxes, I did for the moving truck” rambling on and almost sob, why is everything constantly going haywire.

“Oh… don’t stress, I can help you sort if you don’t mind?” He asks. You only nod and collect yourself again. You start with the bags. He leaves. You continue to place it in the linen cupboard accordingly.

Wait… He leaves???

You walk to the front door and see him walking back, but with a notebook and brio with him.

“Um, what’s that for?” You stand next to him as leans a arm on the counter and begins writing. He lists rooms with space given to write underneath.

“Im making a list so we can efficiently make sure you have everything” he answers.

“Oh!… why?” his answer only brought more questions.

“So you don’t need to worry about losing anything or forgetting anything, keeping track will help you not do overtime” he continues.

“Oh-kay, I trust you” you turn and smile at him, he looks down but his face only slightly changes. His mouth slightly upturns but that’s about it.

———

You finish around 7pm, it was only 5 boxes and 3 large bags of linens/towels and your ‘emergency potential guest’ futon. You were hoping you would just get your bed to sleep in tonight, but life had other plans, so you are thankful that at least some of your overplanning worked.

“Is this all?” Nanami checks, during the couple of hours, he has removed his jacket as it was damp from the storm. In this time he showed you the aspects of the apartment. So you took his jacket and placed it on a chair near the heater in attempt to dry it quickly.

You set up a makeshift table with a box and began to look at the list you made together. So far you had your bathroom set up with essentials, your kitchen utensils and coffee maker set up (important priority) and a make shift bed for the night.

You ticked off the these things and added a few that you are waiting for. Nanami sat himself across from you and politely place his hands on his thighs.

“Are you missing anything? Apart from the truck stuff”

“I don’t think so, hopefully the rest is here tomorrow” You press the pen to your lip in the thought. You look at Nanami and see his eyes flicker to your pen.

“Ah totally forgot this is your pen! Sorry!” You wipe it on your shirt and place it down with the notepad.

“Don’t worry about it, do you want to write a shopping list? You said you have time off so getting that ready before returning to work is wise” Nanami grabs the pen and begins writing one anyway.

“Um Sure! I’m going to make the promised drinks now! What would you like?” You get up and head to the kitchen, its mostly bare apart from hot drinks ingredients and some quick meals packets.

Unfortunately, you have lost most of the refrigerated foods you had but thankfully Nanami brought you milk earlier so you can share a coffee after a long day.

“Black Coffee please, no sugar” He nods and starts writing the foods he noticed in rubbish bags. You pause, why did he bring milk then if not for himself. Already Nanami seems so selfless,even subtly helping you in very thoughtful ways.

You tap the spoon on the side of the mug and place it in the sink. Sitting back down in your spot, you hand him his coffee. He accepts and pleasantly hums as he takes a sip.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take my bed? I don’t mind swapping spot for the night, you must be sore after all this” he asks as he writes more down simultaneously.

“No its okay, you have helped more than enough”

“It’s nothing, I got to get off work early today so I don’t mind”

Wait… he helped even after a workday, you choke on your coffee at the realisation and he swiftly pats your back. Taking your coffee and placing it lightly on the box-table.

“Careful” he chides as he rubs your back.

“My bad, I just thought you said you worked a full day” You dead panned at him but his face remained the same, concerned for you choking but not for him overworking.

“I did, but I’m happy to help” He seems to challenge your glare and definitely wins.

You huff and sip more coffee spitefully.

“I’ll move on for your sake” You glare and he seems to show a somewhat smug face. “What’s on the list” you turn the notepad and see a very organised list. It is sorted into aisles and has question marks next to things he wasn’t sure of.

“Wow this is an immaculate list, is this your job or something?” The stars in your eyes seem to make him laugh, even if it only was a slight blow of air to people unfamiliar. Despite only knowing him this evening, it is quickly catching on.

“No, unfortunately list maker is a competitive career, I’m a mentor of sorts but I used to be a Salaryman”

“Oh wow! That’s so cool!” Your words seem to be the most shocking thing he’s ever heard.

“…Cool?”

“Yes! You must be all your students favourite!”

“Thank you for your kind words, honestly you may meet some of them, a few live in the apartments” He shares and you feel excitement bubble in your stomach.

He gets up and takes your empty cup. He washes all the dishes from this and puts them away. His manners constantly just leave you frozen in awe.

“Did I get everything?” He turns and leans on the island bench to face you.

“Yes… for what?”

He laughs lightly and gestures to the list.

“Oh yes! you did, and the formatting is amazing, I don’t think anyone could beat this list and they will all be enamoured at the shops when they glance at it, thank you!” he must have found gratefulness a tad unconventional actually made him laugh out loud.

You feel goosebumps raise at his laugh, it’s very nice. It’s a genuine warm laugh.

“Good im glad, the local store must know your status” He jests as well. You can already tell that Nanami is going to a neighbour you are constantly thankful for, already plotting ways to pay him back.

Despite everything being done, he stays and explains the neighbourhood to you. Where the landlord lives, areas to go or where to avoid, and the neighbours names with the apartment number. As he speaks, he writes it neatly on a new page of the notepad.

“Would you like to take a photo for this memory” Nanami raises his eyes to meet yours with his question. Again, quickly reading your expression he continues. “I noticed the polaroids and frames, thought you may want to capture the memory” He stands and grabs the camera he placed on the shelf in the lounge.

“Oh my gosh yes!” You jump up and place yourself next to him. He looks confused but you lightly grab the polaroid and point it into a selfie position.

“Smile!” You laugh and press yourself into his shoulders, lifting the camera high to get the both of you in the photo. You take a photo with a giggle and quickly place it upside down on the bench so it develops well.

You feel him lightly take the camera and position it in a better position and repeat your words. Before it flashes you turn to him with a shocked flushed face that he has now immortalised.

He follows after you and places it next to yours.

You both wait in anticipation.

“Would you like me to bring you a nail, so you can hang up the cork board of the collage you already have?” Nanami asks and gestures to his room. He explained earlier that coincidentally, he is your neighbour in the apartment to the left of you, apartment 2C.

“Please!”

He leaves to grab his toolbox and gets back rather quickly. He sees you holding the pictures with a big smile.

“Did they develop well?” He asks as he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. You see his toned arms and almost loose your ability to speak.

“They did! They might be my new favourites” you show him and he nods. “May I keep the one I took please?” He turns to his toolbox and begins to get ready to put up the cork board while glancing you.

“Of course! But warning I look really goofy” You say as you grab the cork board from the floor.

“Well I think you look lovely, can you please mark where you wish to hang it” He passes you the biro from before.

You seem to barely catch the first statement in your mission to be helpful. But are sure he knows when it does sink in as the blush reaches your neck.

You make the spot on the left side wall close to the front door. It means that when you get your shoe rack, you can sit on the small step and look at it with happiness. It also can be seen from the kitchen and main room as well so the memories will never be far.

“Good spot, lets get this up” he quickly finishes the job and places it for you with perfect precision.

You quickly grab the thumbtacks from your newly established everything drawer and hang up the picture just taken. It sits near the centre, right next to the photo of you and Shoko.

“Perfect! Thank you Nanami-kun” You give him a quick hug that he can barely reciprocate. You look up after and see him have a very faint blush.

“Oh my gosh sorry! I should have asked!”

“No it’s okay, you’re fine, you're welcome” He quickly covers, not wanting you to mistake his reaction.

“Anyway, it’s getting quite late, do you have work tomorrow?”

“Unfortunately I do, but don’t hesitate to get me if you need help” He gives you a soft bow then grabs his toolbox with the notebook and heads to his apartment.

You turn and see that he left his jacket accidentally, guess you now have a concrete excuse to see him.

———

You wake up to Barbie girl blasting on your phone. You roll off the futon and groggily grab your phone.

“Morning whatsup”

“Good morning sunshine, you must be super tired after forgetting to message me if you were alive” You here Shoko’s teeth grate as she says each word.

That woke you up rather quickly.

“Oh no im so sorry! Im alive I swear”

“You sound it now but I'm not so sure, I might need to get there right now”

“You don’t have to! Id love to be graced with your presence but I promise I'm good” Despite this, you still can hear her getting into her car.

“Then Christmas is early cause I’ll be there! Send me the address”

“Okay, see you soon” you yield and do so as she ends the call.

———

After having a shower you hear the specific knocks you know to be Shoko’s.

You open the door to see Shoko with bags full of groceries.

“Oh Ieiri-sama you really didn’t have to” You grab some of the bags to help.

“I appreciate the correct honorific, I am a divine being, but this was not me” she corrects and begins to pack the groceries away correctly, how she just knows is like magic.

“Oh- then who did”

“Not sure, we seem to have a mystery” She turns her head to look at you, face flat but you can see the jest in her eyes.

“Ha ha I’m sure it will be a hard one”

You check the bags and find a familiar notepad.

‘Good Morning,

I hope you find this home-warming present swiftly,

I realised last night that I wrote you a whole shopping list but then took the notepad that it was in, a silly mistake on my behalf.

I got what I thought would be safe without need a fridge to lessen your amount of worries and then hopefully this sunny day continues so I can bring the other half with me on the way back from work

Also, I realised that you will need my number to reach me obviously, don’t hesitate to use it

+81 03 XXXX XXXX

Nanami Kento (Apartment 2C, avoid 2A if you can)’

After reading you can feel the smile grow on your face. Yet you aren’t the only one.

“Ooo you already have a secret admirer” Shoko whistles and takes the notepad.

“Ugh less secret” she sneers and dodges your attempts to get it back.

“So Nanami-san lives here, that’s not the worst but explains why I had to dodge that tall prick” She turns and gives back the notepad.

“You know him?” You bring the notepad to your chest and hug it.

“Yup, we went to school together” she goes back to unpacking things. “At least you got a bunch of free food and now it’s less suss! You can trust that he didn’t do anything weird with this stuff”.

“Oh well that’s good, especially since you were already putting it away” You huff and help her once again.

“Well if it was bad, then you would just visit me at my workplace, I’ll look after you~” She smiles.

“Oh yes that’s a lovely way to see you, potentially poisoned from mystery groceries”

———

Shoko took the whole day off to help you. Thankfully the moving company were able to deliver today. It honestly worked out perfectly since you had help available today and it was a lovely clear day.

“Oh did actually bring you a gift though!” She randomly exclaimed, at the brief lunch time break after the movers got everything inside.

“Thank you Shoko-san, you really did not have to”

“I know! But I wanted to and don’t call me that” she kept a light tone despite each wording not fitting it. She got up and grabbed her handbag.

It honestly wasn’t really a typical handbag, much more a small doctor’s satchel. She took out a rectangular bag and you could quickly guess what it is.

“Really Shoko? Booze?”

“Yes, it is necessary to make the worn muscles be less aggravated” she says with a serious disposition.

“I’m not really sure that is backed up by research but have to trust the licensed professional, but I swear if I get hungover” you copy her acting,

“Exactly you always get it, even if I did technically cheat my eligibility for the medical examination”

“What?”

“Nothing”

Once again the neighbours were not present, but it makes sense now as you know many of them seem to be in school. Which implies that their parents must being working! This neighbour mystery is riveting and definitely not an attempt to take control the lack of information.

“Y’know I’ve been thinking, Ijichi-san said he knew everyone here and you are familiar with Nanami, do you also know everyone?” You turn jump next to Shoko on your couch.

��Oh yeah, kinda have to, I work shifts at their school as nurse” she says casually. She turns to see your mouth agape and laughs.

“Huh?! Why didn’t you tell me!?!” You cry and dramatically fall on to her.

“Oomph- Get off, youuu didn’t tell me this was the new apartment” She crosses her arms and tries to twist away from you.

“You have to admit that I couldn’t have seen this coming” you try to avoid a grumpy Shoko.

“I know. Im messing with ya, at least I feel safer with you being here, some of the people here are annoying but they are good people” she sits up and grabs your hand to sit you up.

“Are they only annoying cause you have to be their nurse” you laugh and she joins.

“pretty much”

———

After the strenuous day, Shoko heads home after eating dinner with you; it was a lovely delivery meal. She spent most of the day lecturing you about countless things while scribbling it in your newly acquired notebook and pen;

1. start answering your phone,

2. how to have your house, and

3. most of all avoid white haired men.

You weren’t sure why she had such a grudge against old men, the only demographic you know with white hair, but you made sure to listen and not question; mastering the ways of knowing Shoko Ieiri.

You were taking your rubbish out to the bins and then bumped into a familiar face,

“Nanami-san!” You quickly gave him a big hug. “Thank you so much but I am so mad at you” you let go of the hug.

“Huh?”

“You should not have got all those groceries! That’s too much!” You cross your arms, maturity be damned.

“Oh that, don’t stress” he raises his unoccupied hand to wave off your worries. That however, only draws attention to the bags in his other hands.

“What are those”

“They are groceries”

He continues to walk up that stairs and you follow to see him stop at your door and wait.

“Shouldn’t you put your groceries away first before seeing my impressive abode?.

He just stood there silently, gesturing to the door. You unlocked and opened it for him.

“to answer your question, no that would be putting them in the wrong apartment” Nanami belatedly replies and starts putting groceries away in the fridge.

“Nanami-san, I will get my revenge” you begin helping him begrudgingly.

“I’m sure you will” he hums and continues unpacking. After it is done, he folds the reusable bags and places them in the bag on the hook near the entrance.

“So how did-“

“Nanami, you forg-“

A silent pause fills the room, except for the sounds of someone’s car pulling it, loudly playing music.

“you go fir-“

“oh sorry, i-“

This interruption loop needs to be broken. You quickly stop and turn fully to Nanami. He seems to also have the same idea, this begins the staring competition.

That also goes terribly as you both crack up laughing. You walk to the island and pick up the notebook and the jacket.

“I just wanted to give you your stuff back, i felt bad accidentally pinching them both”

Nanami lightly takes the jacket but pushes the notebook and biro back into your arms.

“I want you to keep that, goodness knows I have enough of them, but thank you for my jacket, i completely forgot”

“I guess i’m just too fun and distracting” you wink and laugh, but Nanami just nods and smiles, his bluntness only seems to fluster.

“Jokes aside, I’m really grateful Nanami-san, this is beyond kind”

“Anything to help, yesterday seemed to be really stressful for you” He smiles at you and it’s hard to stay mad at him.

“It also makes me feel less worried about you meeting the blue eyed fool” He clicks his tongue and turns to your confused face.

“It feels like everyone is making sure im avoiding someone”

“That is cause we are… whoever we is” He nods.

“Well Shoko-chan and Ijichi-san”

“Ah yes, am glad to know we are all in agreeance”

“You guys are so weird” You shake your head, “Would you like some coffee”

“Oh no, I don’t want to keep you, it’s been a long day i’m sure, but maybe when I see you next” he promptly leaves with polite goodbyes and closes your door.

When he does that, you swear you hear another voice on the other side of the door, but it sounds like it quickly gone, after a sound of fabric being hit.

“Well, that was brief”

You do a once over of the house to see if there is anything to do but it seems like everything is pretty much done.

Picking up the notebook and biro, you flick through to see if there’s any other tasks. Yet a page stops you;

‘I look forward to being your neighbour (Y/N)-san’ was written on the last page, obviously in Nanami’s writing,

Yet there was another note, underneath Nanami’s message.

‘Welcome to the family (Y/N)-chan!!,

Don’t be a stranger ( ˃̣̣̥﹏˂̣̣̥ )!! - Satoru Gojo

(They probs called me the Albino Dimwit or something, ignore them, they are mean ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ)’

———

previous // next

a/n: hahaha the long awaited beginning lmao sorry, hope it was worth the wait T-T

Taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚♥︎˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

@dassmyname

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #nanami kento #nanami x reader #gojo satoru #jjk nanami #fluff #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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starfallchampion · 21 days ago

Text

Alola! My name is Lucky, I’m a professional Pokémon trainer and retired Champion from, you guessed it, Alola! I’m Galarian by blood, but we moved when I was younger so my trainer journey formally began here. Yes, I am that Champion who dealt with the Ultra Beast crisis — I’m open to questions about it, so long as they’re not like “does it still keep you up at night?” Answer being yes, of course it does. In fact, if you have any questions about anything and everything battle-related, shoot them my way! Not only am I a seasoned trainer, I’ve also been travelling the world for quite some time now with my siblings, beaten a few gym circuits and given a couple evil teams what-for! I’ve seen people and Pokémon of all stripes from everywhere you can think of, so I like to think I’m pretty qualified!

If you’ve ever followed me and my journey as Alola’s Champion (fun fact: I was the first official champ in Alola!) you’ll know my strategy has evolved and changed a lot over the years. I can’t tell you what it actually is for obvious reasons, but you should know by now it’s super effective (lol). My ask box is always open, so please, ask away!

More information about me:

I started this blog at the suggestion of my partner! Partner as in romantic human partner, not my partner Pokémon lol. He and my siblings may post occasionally and if they do please do say hello!

I split my time between a lot of different regions for work reasons so I’m oftentimes extremely tired because of the jet leg on top of a sleep condition I have. For my physical issues I have a few Mons to support me that don’t battle, so they’re not very well-known in my ‘lore’ as some people call it.

Since I was a teenager and the Aether Foundation Incident happened I haven’t had very much privacy, so I’m very private about my life and my Pokémon outside of a battle context! I’ll probably still post about my non-battling Mons and my family + my partner, but not beyond what we’re up to generally.

My sister is studying very hard to be a Pokémon professor, so if she gets anything wrong, please don’t be afraid to correct her! Just be gentle, she’s still learning lol. My brother on the other hand will probably be reblogging a lot of Dark-type content, especially Umbreon stuff. As for my partner, he’s busy with work and me a lot of the time, so he’ll probably be a rare sighting on this blog!

Now, let’s meet the team shall we?

Neptune, a Primarina and my starter Pokémon! He’s a very loyal companion and loves getting everyone soaked in a stadium even when he’s not using his Z-Move. The best way I’ve ever seen him described is ‘a tank with a tail’ in a review of one of my matches.

Venus, a Sylveon with an axe to grind. He’s a bit of a diva but he’s extremely obedient in battles, so don’t be fooled by his attitude when you see him with me in interviews and such — he’s a sweetheart, he just doesn’t wanna admit it.

Bolt, an Alolan Raichu that is everything one would expect of his species lol. He’s a bit airheaded, one may even say he’s a klutz — but nothing and no one stands a chance against his megawatt smile!

Marian, a Ceruledge that has a strange knightley thing going on. I don't know when it started or what started it, but he's very chivalrous to all those around him, human or Pokémon! A relatively new addition to the team as he joined me while I was doing the Paldean gym circuit.

Bedsheet, a Mimikyu; there is a story behind her name. She made a disguise out of bedsheets and curtains the first night I had her. I was staying in a motel. Thankfully I managed to pay back the damages with all the wins she brought me. If I had to sum her up in a word: cheeky.

Tricky, a Golisopod that put me through the ringer as a Wimpod to catch her. She’s very sweet and loves to hang out by the beach. She’s a bit of a tank like Neptune, but she packs a punch too! She was my trump card for a while there.

Obviously as I’ve implied I have quite a few more buddies than this, but that’s my most frequent lineup as of now. For the rest you’ll just have to keep an eye on my battles. >_0

I think that’s everything! Thank you very much for reading and I look forward to every interaction we may have! :D

OOC INFO:

Hello hello!!! I’m Spooky, but I go by many names on my different blogs (Lovely, Cyril, Cerule, etc.) and likes and follows will come from my main @spookycrownblaze! Just want to knock a couple things out the way b4 I really begin with this blog!

First things first, no NSFW. Lucky and Grusha are adults but Lillie and Gladion are not. It’s not appropriate for this blog, nor am I comfortable with it.

I have no experience with any of the mail systems so I won’t make a call until I’ve had some experiences with them! So, tentatively, I’m accepting all kinds of mail for now.

Lucky is my self insert for the Pokémon world basically KSAKJLD he’s entirely based on my experiences playing the games!!! He wins 99.9% of his battles because all his Pokémon would be lvl100 + max friendship in the games as that is how I roll!!! If I don’t steam roll thru all my battles I am losing /j (oh and also I know nothing about the Pokémon anime so I’m working off game canon the majority of the time)

As you may have gathered by now, part of this blog is an established OC x canon relationship! If you don’t fuck with that, totally cool, please exit stage left. If you do, hey hi hello welcome! Thank you for restoring my faith in humanity a little! I’ve always known fandom to be pretty nasty about it, so it’s really refreshing to know some people are chill about it.

That said, I also work off my own canon, in which SM/USUM happened years ago and Lucky was the player character, except he was in his mid teens (15-16ish) and became a sort of older brother figure to Hau, Lillie and Gladion! It's kind of A Lot but to summarise: they saved Alola and all they got was this dumb shirt (intense PTSD), Lusamine is dead because of the Nihilego thing so Lucky functions as Lillie and Gladion's guardian as well as their older brother, Lucky has an extreme fear of Ultra Beasts and some physical scars from his battles with them but he kept a couple that proved they could behave themselves, being the oldest kid that emerged from the rubble of the Aether Foundation Incident Lucky is a bit of a celebrity for both good and bad reasons and Hau is the current Champion in Alola! He took over for Lucky when he retired a couple years ago and Lucky made him get a manager and assistant immediately after he took the position.

Lucky and Co. (Lillie and Gladion) mostly travel now! Along the way they just so happen to occasionally get roped into the plot of some other games. Lillie and Gladion do most of the talking, Lucky does most of the serious battling and gives any young trainers they meet advice. He also may or may not have beat up a few evil team grunts as opposed to battling them out of frustration.

Obviously don’t feel forced to interact with this blog if you don’t like any of the aspects of it or if you just don’t like the lore I personally work off for my character! I will not be hurt, I will not know — I get why. I am a slut for canon divergence and I love making fun overly powerful OCs with the cruellest nerfs I can think of. In Lucky’s case that’s just my sleep problems and Trauma™ JKDSJGLS

That is all!!! I feel like I yapped a little too much but I want anyone interested to have some context for this blog and its characters even if I feel So So Cringe laying it all out. Might post Lucky’s ref sheet at some point idk. My little eepy champion dude. THANK U FOR READING!!! ENJOY :D

#pokeblogging #pokeblr #pokeblog rp #pokemon #rotomblr #pokemon irl #irl pkmn #intro post

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