#to get out of bed on cold morning. when there is a cat with you
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I’ve had a sleepless night, and all I can think of is fucking soft subby sleepless roommate Gojo to unconsciousness. (1.7k words) (18+)
art by me, referenced art donaldson from challengers | artblog: @wrtchdrtt

“Oh, you poor baby, insomnia strikes again, huh?” Your voice drips with derision as you enter the living room in the wee hours of the morning. It was a rare occurrence for you, but Satoru, on the other hand, seemed to live on the couch, rarely using his room.
During the day, he pesters you. He yaps mindlessly as he sits on your bed, content with your noncommittal hums in response as you work on your desk.
You found yourself drawn to the living room at the most inconvenient times, half in deep sleep, half aware of frustrated pacing and soft murmuring outside your door.
As a result, you found yourself growling at the man-child as he pouted to the sun and back.
And yet you were close to breaking, your sarcasm thinly veiling the truth. You wanted to take care of him.
His lips were puffy and abused, he was anxious— he chewed on them when he got like this. His wide, pretty cotton candy eyes pleaded at you. He was so sweet that your teeth ached just from looking at him.
He wanted something—pouting and whining like a cat denied cream.
“‘M so tired, ‘n I can’t sleep.” He grunted. Still holding a wall, not knowing if it was safe to break.
Your bare feet padded against cold marble floors, sleep shorts sliding up your ass. You slid your hands out of the pockets of the zip up hoodie you had stolen from him. “Want me to fuck you to sleep?”
He frowned, on edge. Eyes shifting all over you, settling on your cold gaze. “Don’t fuck with me.” His pout soured.
“I’m not. You have all this pent-up anxious energy about you, and it’s putting me on edge to see you so tense. We’re friends. Let me help you relax.”
“You’re serious…” his lips twisted to the side, contemplating your offer. “If I say yes…I know it can become a requirement for me to sleep; I am needy like that.” His cocky grin was sweet, and you couldn't wait to see it wiped clean, to hear him whining with pleasure..
“Then we can just consider ‘fucking to sleep’ as part of our night routine. Now come on, the night is running away from us.” You turned and pranced to your room, knowing he would be quick to follow. Not having to turn back to feel him beside you, unnaturally silent footsteps and all.
His eyes shifted as they anxiously flitted about the room as if it was the first time in your bedroom. He was nervous but you had been prepared for that.
He had been your roommate for years, friend for longer, so you knew what it was like for him to be fully hard. Right now, he was at best half-mast.
He needed to lose that chip on his shoulder. Needed to let go. You yanked on his hand, cocking your head to get him to sit on your bed. He stayed put.
You pursed your lips as you slid onto the bed, slipping your legs behind you, flimsy shorts not leaving anything to the imagination.
His eyes locked on your lap, gaze intense and transfixed. He was a proud man. “Why are you so tense? Come on, Toru, you’ll never sleep like that. Let go— it’s just us here. No one’s watching but me, pretty boy. What are you so afraid of?”
He sighed, his shoulders drooping with exhaustion. You watched with rapt attention as he slid off his shirt in one swift movement before crawling to the edge of the bed. Holy fuck. His stomach pressed against the mattress, legs curled around the bed’s edge, his upper body sprawled next to you. Your hands quickly slid into his scalp, fingers threading through his soft, light hair, nails scratching his sensitive skin. He whimpered, back arching in response, sleep pants bunching around his hips and thighs. His head shifted to rest completely in your lap.
“You are so beautiful, Toru. I’m so glad you trust me with this.” ou gently curled your fingers around tufts of his pale hair, pulling his head back slightly. Your other hand glided gently, stroking down the side of his head toward his cheek.
He complied with the movement, turning his head and raising his gaze to meet yours. Your heart clenched with need. You loved him—your roommate, your close friend—and you needed him in ways that went beyond the platonic and sexual— you needed to make him yours. “Pretty boy… Look at you, so soft for me. Tell me, Toru, how long has it been since anyone has had you like this?”
He sighed in response.
“I need a verbal answer, baby.” You gently swiped your thumb against his cheek, amused at his pout.
“No one, I don’t trust anyone but you, you know that.”
“Yes, but it’s nice hearing it from your pretty mouth. Come here, let me kiss you. Let me kiss those beautiful lips of yours…”
Your hands ghosted over smooth, flushed skin. His muscles shifted as he moved, taut with tension. He knelt beside you. You hummed in pleasure as his arms wrapped around your waist, your own around his shoulders, pulling him close.
He tasted sweet like you knew he would. You licked into his mouth, tugging at soft hair strands. He shivered, your kisses prompting soft dulcet sounds from deep in his throat.
His grip was tight on your waist, his fingers skimming underneath the large hoodie— touch needy and warm— clenching and unclenching against your skin.
“You can— mhm— touch, you know?” You panted between kisses, giving him all the permission he needed to slide long fingers up your sides, body shaking when his hands found your bare breasts. You felt his hips jerk beside yours. You sighed in contentment as rolled your nippled between his fingers, swell of your tits supported by his palms.
“Fuck— please!” He chants your name like a prayer. And ever the benevolent lover, you take heed to his pleas. You force your weight on top of him, bracing your hands on his shoulders and sliding one thigh over his lap.
“Arms up, pretty boy.” You slide your fingers under his cotton shirt, pulling it over his head and pressing his back against the mattress. You focus on the next task, curling your fingers under his sleep pants and sliding them down his long, lean legs.
His pretty flushed cock is finally yours to touch. Your ass resting right above his knees, you have him spread out in front off you like an offer. You brace one hand on his hip, the other closing around his cock. His hips buck up, and he lets out the most delicious, needy sound. Your cunt clenches with need, cotton panties drenched through by that point.
Precome dribbles from his tip, and your thumb swipes at it, smearing it over his cockhead, fingers curled tight around his length. If this is what it takes for him to writhe under you, hands curling around the bedsheets…
You shift forward, resting your clothed core against his erection. His body jerks, hands flying toward your hips. Your whole weight falls on his cock, and you knew it would be good, but
“Please, please— move” Words accompany his needy groans of pleasure. His hips buck up against you. You throw your head back as you roll your hips. The friction is so good. But you need more.
You lift your hips, his eyes flashing toward you with betrayal, you quickly ease away with a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.
You slowly unzip the hoodie, letting it fall from your shoulders. He licks his lips, hands rejoining your nipples. Next you crook your thumbs under the waistband of your shorts and panties, sliding them off, you hear his breath hitch in response.
Your hips hovered over his, his voice is soft and whiny, “So beautiful. Those shorts haunt my dreams. I— please,”
You smiled softly at your boy, “Needy Toru. You should know I wear those shorts just for you.” You didn’t give him time to respond, gripping his length, aligning it to your center and pressing down. Your boy was huge, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you plunged down. Jaw slackened as you sank into him fully. “God— fuck— Toru— mmh…”
You still for a moment, adjusting to his size. Your boy is impatient, his hips jerk softly, hands kneading your breasts.
He stares up at you with wide dilated eyes. So pretty. Your own are hooded. You begin to move slowly. Your moans and his pleas echoing through the room.
“Please, please, fas— faster!” Hands moving from your moving tits to your ass, prompting you to move faster, hands planted on his chest, you moved your hips up and down, head thrown back, you let yourself feel. God, it was heavenly; it was bordering on painful how he split you open.
You felt him move, didn’t care enough to open your clenched eyes, until— fingers pressed asgainst your clit. Your hips stuttered, cunt clenching around him. He whined loudly.
“’S so good, you feel so good…” His voice came out in broken segments.
Your pace grew frantic, chasing the precipice. He moved again, back lifting from the mattress. Lips searching your neck, he kissed your collarbone harshly, before lapping up your neck, his fingers moving fast against your clit. Your limbs locked as he pushed you off the precipice pussy clenching harshly around him, he panted against your neck following your fall. This time, when his back slumped against the mattress, you lay with him, chest to chest.
It took you a few moments to come down. You kissed him in the glow, he tensed underneath you.
“We forgot a condom…” His voice was breathless, and you could read his barely-hidden, pleased tone. You laughed.
“I’m on birth control, and you know that dummy.”
“Damn—guess I’ll have to find another to trap you into being stuck with me.”
“Idiot, you’re mine now. No take backs, we signed a lease.”
He hummed pleased, yawning loudly. No need for round two then.
And he was so sweet, finally asleep underneath you. Now that you finally had him, there was no way you were letting him go. He was yours, whether he liked it or not.
He did. He really, really did.
#junie writes#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#gojo fanart#jjk fanart#gojo headcanons#gojo fluff#satoru gojo#gojou satoru x you#jjk gojo#gojo fanfic#gojo imagine#jujutsu kaisen fanart#satoru gojo fanart#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo jjk
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
Do I Know You? Part 15
Synopsis: You’re angry at Red Hood, not Jason.
Notes: so, this got really angsty at the end. I don’t know what happened. I knew ya’ll where so excited to have our boy back, and everything with Jason is fine, but Red hood… it's rough. Anyway, I guess, enjoy?
Masterlist
When you woke from your nap, you did a mild pick-up of your apartment (not really, just moved things around so it looked more organized), then you sat on your couch to watch TV. You hated it. Your mind would lose focus and wander to other things, things you didn’t want to think about. It led to you staring at your hands far too many times, picturing blood that was no longer there.
You noticed that your knuckles were dried out, cracking a little. It was odd. In the three years you’d lived in Gotham, you never had an issue with dry skin, considering it was an island on water. You rub at the chapped skin and realize you’ve been overwashing your hands without thinking about it. Neither the girls nor Jason had mentioned it, although with how you keep your apartment, you imagine they didn’t think anything of it. You were having a serious Macbeth moment that worried you, but what else could you do?
At the usual designated time slot, you unlocked your window and waited. And waited. And waited. Nearly three o'clock in the morning, you startle awake on your couch. You practically jump over to the window, having heard a noise on the fire escape, but you find nothing more than one of the neighbor's cat on the fire escape. It blinks at you before scampering up the stairs on the escape. You sigh and accept that he isn’t coming tonight.
The upset that had simmered over the past few days returns. You collect his jacket from where it hangs by your door and march to your window. You shove it open, shivering from the cold air, and toss the jacket onto the escape. There was no reason for you to hold onto it. If he wanted it, he could come and get it because obviously, he didn’t want to talk to you, so you didn’t want to talk to him.
You went to bed upset and tossed and turned for the rest of the early morning. By seven o'clock, you gave up on the idea of sleeping. You paced around your apartment before you came to an understanding with yourself. Cass and Steph were right, you couldn’t stay at home forever. That, and you really needed a distraction, even if it was only for four hours.
****
Jason had been worried on patrol all night. Steph and Cass had reported to him that overall, you seemed okay, if not a little overwhelmed in crowded places. He was shocked when they said they had taken you shopping, surprised you willingly left your apartment. He was mostly happy to know that you were on the up-and-up of your traumatic experience much faster than he would’ve thought. Or at least a little bit. They had told him that while you hadn’t rushed them out the door, there was a certain relief on your features as they were leaving, no doubt about finally having an evening for yourself after constantly having people around.
It’s the reason he didn’t show up that evening, at least that you saw. He had stopped by in his old way, across the street on the roof, around one in the morning. He could see your TV running and spotted the lump that was you asleep on the couch. White noise, he assumed. The TV would be better than silence. He didn’t even check the window, just threw a longing glance at your apartment before moving on his patrol, you constantly in the back of his mind. You clearly needed the time alone, which is why he was surprised when he received a text from you about mid-morning.
You: I’m going to work today walk me home?
He didn’t even respond; just picked up the phone and called you. You answered immediately.
“I only tease you about technology, I know you know how to respond to a text.” Is the first thing you say. Jason can feel the tension leave his shoulders just at the sound of your voice. He shakes his head and refocuses.
“Sweetheart,” had he paused, he would have heard the audible pleased sigh that escaped your lips at the name, “are you sure you're ready to go back to work?”
“I don’t really have a choice. I already called Jackie and told her I would come to work half a shift.” You're clearly making up a reason not to back out, dependable.
“I’ll call back and tell them you changed your mind.” He states, not wanting you to force yourself into it.
“Worry not, I haven’t changed my mind.” You tease. The lilt of your voice when you get like this was something Jason hadn’t realized he missed. You were doing better if your attitude was anything to show for it. After a moment of silence, Jason caught up in the sound of you getting ready for work, you repeat the question you had texted.
“Will you come walk me home?” He answers quickly, easily, despite how tired he was from his night of patrol and bad sleep (worrying about you).
“Course. What time do you get off?” There’s a clatter on the other end of the line (a surprised drop from how quickly he answered), and he’s about to ask if everything is okay, but you respond, rushed, about when you get off.
“And what time do you go in? I can walk you to work, too.” He offers. He hears you suck in a stuttered breath all movement stopping.
“It’s okay, Jay. Daylight hours, I’ll be fine.” You reassure him. Jason wouldn’t admit it aloud, but his stomach fluttered at the way you said Jay. You had never called him that before and even though it was just a shortened version of his name, you said it so sickly sweet that it got to him.
“Alright,” He concedes only because he knows you might berate him if he asked if you were sure about it. He manages to keep you on the phone until you're nearly to work, idle silence mostly filling the space between you two. He enjoyed learning that you talk to yourself sometimes as you get ready, and you will share whatever you see with him as you walk, a dog, some trash on the street, or a motorcycle that made you think of him. You had rushed a goodbye to him just as you opened the door to Jackie’s. He eyed the time. Four hours to waste.
Jason only lasted three hours before he showed up at Jackie’s. He parked his bike in its usual spot in front of your building and tried to take his time walking. It didn’t work. You were walking by with a plated muffin as he opened the door. Your eyes lit up when you saw him, and you greeted him happily.
“Jason!” You held the plate away from your body as you leaned towards him, and without thinking, he pressed a kiss to your temple, hand on your shoulder to steady you. When he pulls back to really look at you, he finds your under-eyes puffy and your eyes red, like you’d been crying. He’s about to ask you about it, but you were off to drop the muffin. He hesitates at the door, wondering if he should sit or wait for you to come back. You stop at the table and start talking to the customers. He takes that as his cue to sit down.
He brought his book like always, considering he was early anyway. He reads, periodically glancing up like you'll materialize right in front of him. He becomes focused on his book when you appear. You set his designated drink on the table and sit down in the booth next to him, sliding until your touching, thighs and shoulders pressed. You sag against the seat, and he nearly does the same. He turns his head to look at you, an odd angle, but he doesn’t want to pull away. Your hand wiggles where your thighs meet, and without a second thought, his fingers curl around yours.
“Hi.” Your voice is drained, but you look happy as you settle your chin on his shoulder to meet his eye.
“Hi,” he replies, and before he can ask you his question, you answer.
“I’m okay,” you say with a grin.
“Then why do you look like you’ve been crying?” He brings his free hand to press at your cheek, thumb rubbing at the delicate skin under your eye. Your eyes flutter, and you pull your face off his shoulder and out of his hand.
“Darla brought her granddaughter in.” Your eyes start to water again. “She was so cute and just so small,” your hand leaves his to show him, “Her little head fit in my hands.”
Jason nearly laughs at you for crying about a baby, but the way you pout at him makes him stop. He pats your thigh as a means to comfort you.
“Okay, but you seemed high-spirited when I came in,” he says. You roll your eyes and bring your hand up to swipe at a tear.
“Because Darla brought her granddaughter in,” you say it like it’s obvious, like he’s just being silly for asking the question. He gives you a look, and you shake your head.
“Between Darla and baby Claire, the girls, and you, it was a good reminder that life is long and not just the now. Not everything is bad, there’s still good in the world.” You add, picking at your cuticles. Jason understands now, maybe a little too much. He had spent a year trying to take over Gotham and get back at Bruce. A year with nothing good shining through the darkness. Focusing just on the bad will do that. You seem more even-balanced than he ever was. A silence settles between you two, it's not awkward, though. You stop picking at your hands and settle your head on his shoulder.
“I think I'm tired, too,” you murmur. “It’s making me a little sensitive, I think.” The silence returns, your hands threaded with Jason’s again, and he almost thinks you’ve fallen asleep until the door dings, and you’re up and out of the booth and in record time.
The next hour is spent easily. You’d return and sit for a little while and then leave to attend customers before coming back again. At the end of the work hours, you slide next to him, now apronless. You settle against his shoulder again, reading the book with him. At the end of the chapter, he closes the book and looks at you.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” you answer, sliding out of the booth and working to zip up your jacket. It's a new one, Jason thinks, having never seen it on you before.
“New Jacket?” Your hands stutter your movement at the question.
“I lost my other one, had to drag this one out of storage.” You mumble. Jason thinks for a moment, trying to figure out where you would have lost your jacket. He had seen you wearing it about a week ago before he remembers. When Red Hood pulled you out of the warehouse, he had given you his leather jacket because you didn’t have one. If you had been walking home, you would have been wearing one, which means it's either still in that warehouse or in a police evidence locker. Jason felt guilty for a moment, like he should have gotten you a new one so you didn’t have to drag one out for storage. One that had clearly seen better days based on the melted hole on the sleeve near your wrist.
You don’t give him time to question or offer because you're already headed for the door. He’s quick to rush ahead of you to open the door. You give him a smile with a scrunched nose like you might tease, but you keep your mouth shut. Once out the door and walking down the street, your gloved hand slips into his pocket where his hand was. Fingers curl together in the warmth of the pocket, and Jason has never been happier.
If he was completely honest, the almost two days away from you were ridiculously hard. You were like a drug to him, and his withdrawal made him antsy, waiting to see you again. Enough so that Damian had pointed it out while they were taking down an arms deal. Damian, who is so much like his father when it comes down to the mission. Jason had denied anything, but Damian had just given him a deadpan look that reminded Jason of when Damian was a baby in the league. He pulled himself together for the rest of the patrol.
Walking with you is much like walking with you on the phone, idle silence, and pointing at things of interest. The walk was slow, even though you looked tired and no doubt ready to be home. Once you reached your apartment building, Jason realized why.
“Thank you for walking me home, Jason.” Your touch slips from his, and you sway on your feet, unsure. You were really tired, exhausted even. It irked you that you only worked four hours and felt like you did a double shift. It probably didn’t help that you had practically bawled your eyes out when Darla brought in her granddaughter, a reminder of where life had started, how far you’ve come, and how far you have yet to go. She had shaken her head at you and let you hold the little girl longer than necessary.
Being so tired, you just wanted to sleep, but you didn’t want Jason to leave. During the time the girls were with you, beyond curiosity, you hadn’t really thought about him, but the moment they were gone was a whole other story. Without distraction, you had become conscious of a Jason-shaped gap in your chest.
You knew you liked Jason, that wasn’t news to you, but this was different. It was a tender, nearly guilty feeling. You felt like, perhaps, he was just indulging you and your affections in the last week because you had been through something traumatic. It's why you were not inviting him up to your apartment (and subsequently into your bed). You wanted to, desperately, having already come to terms with the fact that you sleep better next to him. But you can’t do it, not if he’s just gentle and sweet on you because that’s what you need right now.
He stares at you, and you shift on your feet. You feel like your old way of things are filtering back in. He turns without a word to his bike, same spot as always, and you think he’s going to leave without saying anything until he turns back to you. He holds a rectangular box, only a little bigger than your hand. He holds it out to you expectantly, a slight pink on his cheeks. He speaks as you take it and open it.
“I’m always more than willing to walk you to and from work, but if you're insistent about guilt-tripping yourself out of asking me, at least you’ll be able to protect yourself.” You glance up to glare at him for the guilt trip comment, but it falters when you see his knowing look. Inside the box is an unassuming smaller black box with grip grooves on the side. It kind of reminds you of an old Nokia phone. You pick it up and turn it over in your hand, confused.
“It’s a taser,” Jason says, your whole hand hold changes to two fingers holding it away from you. Jason laughs.
“It’s not a gun, sweetheart,” he takes it from you and edges into your space to show you how to use it. A button on the side to start the electricity startling you and he explains where to aim if someone grabs you and then he’s handing it back to you.
“And it’ll fit in your bag.” He adds like he’s trying to sell it to you. You glance at the said bag, then at the taser, then at him. He seems a little flustered, and it makes you grin; the tender, less guilty version of your feelings works its way across your body.
“Thank you, Jay,” his flush deepens slightly in a way that makes you want to tease him just to see how dark the red would get (or perhaps to see how low it would go), but you reel yourself in. You do stand on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek that he seems pleased about. He nods and pulls back to get his helmet.
“See you later?”
“yea”
He climbs onto his bike, and you take an appreciative glance, having forgotten how good he looked on his bike. He waves at you, and you return the gesture before he’s gone. You sigh as you climb the stairs into your building. You were in deep with this boy, and you had no idea what to do with it.
****
You did manage to take a nap, longer than you expected. Long enough to keep you awake in the middle of the night, which you had not planned. You’re sat at your island, sipping a warm lemon water trying to lull yourself to sleep when you hear the creak of the fire escape. Your whole body freezes. You know it’s Red Hood this time, the noise more obvious. You don’t know why you thought the cat yesterday was him. You hear a knock on the window.
You don’t move from your spot, instead taking another sip of your water, back still facing the window. You wait for him to leave. You had left his jacket out there the night before. There was nothing else he needed here.
He knocks, and you feel your upset and anger flare again. Why can't he just leave you alone? Can't he tell you don’t want to talk to him? You hear the squeak of your locked window opening, a cold breeze drifting in, and then the window closing. You finally turn to glare at him.
“What the hell are you doing?”
The jacket you had left outside is already draped on the back of a chair at the dining table. His helmet is off but still in his hands. You wish he had kept the helmet. His normal, hard-set features are that of a kicked puppy. Thank god his eyes were covered because if they weren’t, you would probably have folded at the sight of them. He suddenly seems hesitant, frozen mid-motion, to set his helmet down.
“What?” his voice is quieter than you think you have ever heard. Your chest aches. You missed him in the past four days, but you wouldn’t let that deter you. You were angry and rightfully so; he got you kidnapped.
“I said, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ I left your jacket outside and locked the window so you wouldn’t come in.” You regret the way you're speaking to him. This isn’t like you, but your outrage oversteps your regret.
“I just wanted to check on you,” he says, slowly setting his helmet on the dining table. You glare at the harsh red metal.
“I’m fine. Get out.” You say flatly. This was hurting you more than you’d like to admit. Red Hood was a friend, a good friend, but his presence led to the disaster that was that night in the warehouse. You got kidnapped because of him, and he didn’t even save you; you saved yourself, and you weren’t proud of it.
“It’s okay if you’re not. You killed someone. That’s not something you just get over.” He says. It wasn’t lost on Jason the fact that you hadn’t told anyone what happened with Ted Jackson. He had talked to Cass and Steph about it and had a long conversation with Bruce in Cave about it that Barbara had inserted herself into regarding what she knew from her father, unofficially, of course.
He takes a step forward, and you take a stunned half-step back. You press yourself against the island, despite him being nowhere near you. Your hands curl around the counter edge, and Jason can see your nails digging underneath. This had been what he’d been worried about. Every time he had badged you about how you were doing as Jason was him, trying to goad you into talking about this. He had worried that you had locked it away in your mind as something to deal with later, but he had already seen spurts of it leak into the way you reacted to things. Despite being hopeful that you would talk to Red Hood about it because he already knew, Jason is sorely disappointed when you just repeat your words.
“Get. Out.” Your words are hard, but your voice shakes as you speak them: “I want you to leave and never come back.” Your eyes are watery, but the rest of your features are set harshly. He’s surprised by it. He didn’t think you could look so…cold.
“Sweetheart,” he offers the name softly, trying to coax you into talking, but you cut him off, voice louder than before.
“You don’t get to call me that.” You point an accusatory finger at him, “You don’t get it. I want you out of my apartment, and I want you out of my life.” There’s a light streak of tears slowly moving down your cheek. Jason doesn’t like the way this conversation feels; his heart hurts in the way you speak to him, especially after knowing the blissful touch of your affection. He has to remind himself that you're talking to Red Hood, not to Jason.
“Listen-” He tries again, but now you’re wound up.
“No, you listen! A man is dead, and it’s all your fault his blood is on my hands.” You present your palms like the blood was still there. “I don’t want you here.” Your words are harsh as you yell, despite the tears streaming down your cheeks. Jason feels suddenly inept that he can't comfort you, can’t press into your space, and wipe away your tears. All he can do is stand there and watch you.
You were right, He thought to himself. If he had been quicker, gotten to you faster, saved you like the alleged hero he was, you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this. Regardless of his years of training, he hadn’t saved you. Sure, you were alive, but you had taken a life. Something you never should have had to do. And while he was proud of you at the time (part of him was still proud of you for it, but that was his secret), he’s upset with himself for even letting it happen.
“Okay,” he resigns as he digs a hand into his pocket, “but before I leave, I have something for you.”
“I don’t want anything from you.” Your voice is weak and choked, and he hates it. He pulls out the locket necklace he had Barbara make for you, and he presents it, holding it by the chain.
“Jewelry won't fix any of this.” You sniffle. He sighs at your comment. He wants to step closer to you, to hand it directly to you, but he won't. He pops open the locket to show you the button inside.
“It's an emergency alert,” he meets your reddened eyes, “you were taken, and I couldn’t find you fast enough. If something happens, press this button and someone,” he doesn’t offer himself, “will come find you and help you, one of the bats. We’ll all get an alert that you're in trouble.”
He places it on the table and picks up his helmet, sliding it on, pulling on his jacket. You haven’t said anything else, only staring at the gold locket.
“Wear it, please. If not for my peace of mind, then for yours. I’m sorry… for everything.” You still don’t say anything. He takes that as his cue to leave. Out the window and down the street, he doesn’t even wait on the roof to watch you lock the window.
He was genuinely hurt, if not a little surprised by how the evening went. He had planned to talk to you about what happened, to help you deal with it all, to give you someone to talk to. He hadn’t expected you to blow up at him like that, hadn’t realized how good you were at hiding your inner turmoil from the people around you. He understands, he thinks, why you are upset.
However, it just made his plans that much harder. He wanted to tell you about being Red Hood. Not yet, but eventually. But if you hate Red Hood, carrying a disdain for him, what would happen if he did tell you the truth? He had told himself before that if you hated him for Red Hood or his feelings, then that would be fine, but now, seeing the blank glare you had given him the entire time. He doesn’t think he could do it. It might actually kill him if you looked at Red Hood and Jason like that. Maybe it just won’t ever come out. Maybe he could hide it forever, right? That will work out just fine, he decides
****
The moment you see his figure disappear from the fire escape, you break down sobbing. You collapse on the floor and curl in on yourself. You hate this, you hate this. This ugly, complicated feeling, you hate it so much. Why? Why did you have to feel like this? You thought everything was fine, that you were over it, that you were dealing. It’s okay if you’re not. Both Jason and Red Hood had said something along those lines. Your stupid Jar rattles, and you wish it was real so you could chuck it at a wall.
As much as you hated the way you were feeling, you hated yourself more for how you spoke to him, hated the way you just let the words slip out. Words spoken in anger were the ones most regretted. You didn’t want him to leave your life forever. You wanted him to come back, to be there for you. Even if it was just to judge your cooking skills and tease you about your pickiness.
He was your friend, and you didn’t have a lot of those. Of course, you chased him off, letting your fear of loss hide under a shield of anger. You can't let a good thing last. Better to make it bad before it’s gone.
You sat on the floor, having your own personal pity party for longer than you're proud of. By the time you stood up, your hips ached from sitting on the hardwood floor. You throw a longing glance at the locket but don’t pick it up or go near it. You drag yourself into your bed and curl into a ball. You feel cold, sad, and ashamed. Ashamed for yelling and letting your emotions get out of hand. You cry yourself to sleep, wishing you could take everything back.
Additional Notes: I am so sorry about that ending. That was so rough. Anyways, next week is a filler chapter with Jason. Yay for complicated feelings. Thank you for reading. Let me know what you guys thought! <3 <3
Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369, @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
Having a cat in winter time is very very dangerous they don’t warn you.
“It’s cold.” I knew that part. I’ve been through 27 “it’s cold”s in my life. “It’s cold AND there’s a soft little cat asleep on my bed with me”? Dangerous. Absolutely dangerous. You will never ever get up again.
#Chrissy speaks#it’s noon and Saturday and why would I even get up from bed#my working hours have been shifting later because the overwhelming force needed#to get out of bed on cold morning. when there is a cat with you#insurmountable
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
# HOW TO SEDUCE YOUR NEIGHBOR 101 !!
CHAPTER ii. [9.1k words]
୨୧┊pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! reader
୨୧┊synopsis: the shopping trip you were forced to go on with Toji doesn't go exactly as planned.
୨୧┊warnings: taboo cw! + semi-smut + age difference (reader is 19 and toji is 34 ) + slow burn + one-sided pining + attempt at humor + slice of life + reader takes multiple L's + megumi is mentioned + reader gets objectified (not by toji) + toji is a serial hoe
୨୧┊a/n: make sure to check out my main post! ive included a pinterest board for everything described + a playlist ♡
MAIN POST | part i. > part ii. > part ii.
You didn't know if it was a blessing in disguise, or a curse. Perhaps a cruel joke the world was playing on you like it always did. Yet here you were again, your knee high fluffy socks skidding across the oakwood flooring of your room, scouring through your closet like a deranged cat looking for something to wear on today's decor run.
"Shoes, shoes…I'm missing shoes," digging through the furthest corner in the enclosed space of your closet, you spotted an unopened box on one of the shelves. It was a simple pair of heeled, white mary janes with a heart buckle. You got it 2 birthdays ago but never saw an opportunity to wear them, until now.
Your mother told you that Toji was picking you up at 10:30 am despite you telling her that you would go after lunch.
'He's a busy man. He said this is the only time he's free today.'
"Yeah, of course he is. Always busy doing God knows what." Sighing, you decided on your ensemble for this morning. It was rushed and unplanned, but it would have to do.
Looking at the time on your phone, you saw that it was 10:15. You've still got 15 more minutes left till Toji arrives to pick you up. Letting out a breath, you sat on your bed, shoe cladded toes tapping the floor as your knee bounced, restlessly waiting.
Going over to your floor length mirror, you checked over your choice of outfit once more. It wasn't too cold of a day, so you opted for a knitted long sleeved, off-the-shoulder, cream toned sweater dress that hugged your curves. With its hem stopping just right underneath your ass.
You were debating between thigh highs or leg warmers, but decided leg warmers looked better scrunched down on your ankles with the shoes you opted to wear. You didn’t do much with your hair last night since you were only at home, but since you were going out in public today, you felt like doing something with it. Something cute specifically, as you opened your vanity drawer deciding which accessory to wear today. Picking some silk ribbon you saw laying about, you braided it into your hair, sealing it with a rubber band and tying an extra ribbon into a bow to conceal it. And finally, you had your bag. Well, more like bear. The teddy bear backpack you had on matched well with the neutral color scheme. So, you went for it. Honestly, you reminded yourself of a doll. A doll with a pretty face, and a whole lot of problems.
Taking a deep breath, you puffed out your chest. Your confident expression stared back at you, but on the other side of that mirror you felt nothing but anxiety simmering the longer you stood there in silence.
"I might as well wait for Toji outside then." It was no use standing around in your room. The bed looked way too inviting as it only made you think of excuses not to go. You wouldn't let your bed get the best of you this time.
Walking down the stairs, you headed towards the entrance, petting your cat's furry head along the way. Upon opening the door, you were met with the sight of freshly layered snow. It was thin, barely half an inch thick, but it already had you feeling a little better with the anticipation of making a snowman with it once the days got colder. You remember there was a time when you used to do that with Toji.
God, you can't even reminisce about the past without Toji having some part in it.
You desperately needed to figure out how you were going to do this.
Last night was a bust. Not much progress was made besides the fact that Toji actually spoke to you for the first time in years. Not that he had much chance to do so sooner even if he wanted to, with you a couple hours away from home and all. But it was the bare minimum. Right now you needed a plan, and you needed to think of one fast.
Standing against the railing of your porch, you sorted through your thoughts. You're going to get picked up by Toji in less than 10 minutes. You'll ride in his car, pretend that everything's okay because it is, you'll buy whatever this party needs, and if it goes well you'll confront him on the ride back home. And that'll be the end of that.
Easy.
But when is anything ever easy when it comes to that man. Nothing. The answer has always been nothing.
This line of thought has you so deep into your own frustration that you don't even realize you've been ranting to your teddy bear backpack. Murmuring to it harshly, and rolling your eyes like you're gossiping with a friend about the latest dumb thing that happened on Twitter today.
And it's only when you see a black pickup truck from your peripheral vision pulling up, that you stare back at the bear in horror. Mind being snapped back to the present, and feeling embarrassed that you were seen like this. A man was causing you this much turmoil, that you've been complaining to a damn backpack about it.
Quickly putting your bag back on, you smoothed out your sweater dress. You really fucking hope he didn't see that.
Facing towards the driveway you paused. Your eyes widened, already in awe at the vehicle as you saw it more clearly up close.
The last car you saw Toji with was an old, red Toyota truck. It did it’s job, but definitely not without a couple repairs here and there every so often (that you may or may not have checked him out while he was doing so.) So seeing this new, shiny, black Chevy parked right outside the driveway was definitely an exciting upgrade. The wheels were lifted, making the body higher than its original design, and the windows were tinted midnight black, making it nearly impossible to see who was inside unless you stuck a cheek to the glass.
Overall it was big, and intimidating.
Just like him.
'Guess those freelancing jobs paid off then.’
*BEEP BEEP*
Jesus. You didn't even notice Toji had already parked. How long were you just staring at it for? If he started to honk at you, it must’ve been more than what society deemed normal.
Running up to the passenger side of the truck, albeit meekly, you stopped right in front of the door just as the tinted windows were being pulled down giving you a better view of the inside. There sat Toji on the other side, upper body turned and facing towards you with one hand still on the wheel.
Toji’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets at your appearance but it was quickly masked by a look of amusement.
"You busy daydreaming or what?"
Ignoring his remark, you placed your hands on the edge of the cold glass, peering up at him and around the interior.
“So, new truck huh?”
"Oh this? Yeah, got it not too long ago after receiving my payment for….from work."
You squinted your eyes in suspicion, noticing that he caught his words, but you weren't going to question it. No, you were going to let it go. You knew he wouldn’t tell you anything anyway, most likely just brushing it off as suddenly being hit with a stutter. He never spoke about his “overseas” jobs that he apparently racked up stacks of cash from, and despite him saying it was only freelancing work, you had a hunch it was something a lot shadier than that. You weren’t that dumb. Which is exactly why you weren’t going to ask.
Choosing to stay oblivious, you gave a compliment instead. "It's nice, Toji. Really."
You were about to open the door to get in and cut the small talk short (and because you’d rather bask in the in-system heating than out in the cold) but it wouldn’t budge. It was still locked. Why isn’t he unlocking the door?
Instead of unlocking the door for you like normal people do when picking up a person with their car, Toji isn't exactly someone you'd consider normal. Instead, Toji looked you up and down slowly as an awkward silence took over. You stood there rigid, allowing him to unashamedly undress you with his eyes. At least you think that's what he was doing. He’s being really bold today…does he seriously not plan to open this door?!
Your mind was running a mile per minute. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but you kind of liked the attention he was giving you right now. Especially since he hadn’t bothered to give you any last night. Not that you blame him. Looks like the effort you had put in, despite being rushed, was working, leaving him dumbstruck. You felt proud that you managed to have him speechless.
Unfortunately, your sudden boost in ego was quickly shut down.
"What the hell are you wearing?" Oh. Talk about anticlimactic.
"Huh? W-what do you mean?"
"I mean," He stood there, a single eyebrow raised, and vaguely gesturing to your form with his hand, "This."
Looking around to see if anyone else was witnessing this, you quirked your head in question. "What about it?"
"I know ya didn't just decide to go out looking like that when it's freezing out here. Go back upstairs and put some real clothes on." He looked at you sternly with a scowl etching onto the scarred side of his lip, arms crossing in front of his chest.
Was Toji actually scolding you right now? The nerve of this guy!
You hadn’t seen it right away, but after staring back at him in disbelief at what you were hearing, you noticed his own personal ensemble.
There’s no damn way…
Looking up and down at him as he had done to you just moments prior, you saw that he was wearing an unzipped puffer jacket with a hoodie underneath which was fine, you had no issues regarding that. The problem was what he was wearing below.
This man, who was condemning you on your sweater dress because it was apparently unfit for “freezing” temperatures, was wearing shorts and slides. At least he wore socks with it, if he hadn’t you think you may have actually gone back home and let him do the shopping himself.
You couldn’t help but let out a short laugh, but quickly shut up after seeing Toji wasn’t finding this as amusing as you were.
This was crazy.
Tilting your head to the side, you scrunch your nose in disbelief. “You’re telling me to put warmer clothes on, when you’ve got shorts and slides on?”
Toji was quick to counter. “It’s not the same, don’t compare it.”
“Yeah it is!”
“Look kid, I’m not gonna argue with ya. Either change your clothes, or stay home.”
That’s exactly what you want to do. But you know deep down you can’t, you already told yourself you had to sort things out with him. And the first step to that, is sorting this out.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
After a couple pleading looks and adamant convincing of, 'I'm not cold!' 'I swear I'm fine. It doesn't even feel like winter out here!'
Toji relented. Letting out a sigh, shaking his head as he told you, 'Fine, whatever. But don’t come cryin’ at my feet when your stubborn ass gets sick and your mom gets mad at you.'
Now here you were, seated on the heated, brand new black leather seats of his Chevy after he finally gave in and unlocked the door, letting you in. You spent the trip with your head resting against the palm of your hand somberly, as you watched the scenery of snowy trees and other cars pass by.
The awkwardness throughout the entire car ride was at an all-time high. Higher than what it'd started out with earlier. You were both quiet; your brain a little less. Toji's disappointment regarding your attire was a total blow to your ego. You were just trying to look cute.
Not like it was meant for him anyway.
Is what you wanted to try convincing yourself in order to feel better, but really, you knew it was a lie.
As for Toji, that thought you had earlier about him ogling you? It was right on the money.
But he had to quickly save face by instead acting like a concerned adult worrying about the wellbeing of his innocent, young neighbor. If he was being honest, he didn’t give two shits about what you chose to wear. As long as it was for his eyes only.
Yes, he knew he’d hurt your feelings for telling you to go change. He understood that he was being overbearing and unreasonable especially after you brought up his own attire, but you had to understand. He physically couldn’t accept seeing you wearing an outfit that barely covered your ass like that in public when he should be the only one to see you looking like that. Yes, he was sick for looking at you that way and he knew that which is exactly why he needed you to cover up. Both so that no other creepy assholes (except himself) could see you that way, and because he doesn’t think he could control his thoughts about you for the next couple hours you have alone together. It’s why he had to shift in his seat a couple times. Though, you didn’t notice that.
This game you were playing with him? This seducing thing? With little skirts and shit, yeah it was doing something to him.
Maybe you haven’t changed as much as he thought. As they say, old habits die hard.
After about 15 more minutes of unspoken thoughts, you finally arrived at the store.
Why did you agree to do this again? Oh yeah, you didn't.
Unbuckling your seatbelt, you took a deep breath to try and regain your composure. Just focus on the task. Opening the door, you hopped down and out onto the recently snow-shoveled pavement with Toji following suit as he turned off the truck, taking the keys from the ignition and shutting the door behind him.
You could feel Toji’s burning gaze boring into your back as he walked behind you, keeping a slight distance between you and him but still enough that people could tell that you two came together. Entering into the store, you whipped out your phone, unlocking it and clicking on the notes app filled with a list of things you needed to get that your mom instructed you two to buy. You crossed your fingers hoping you could get all this done quickly and smoothly.
Obviously, life loves to humor you because things did not go smoothly.
Everything was going well at first, you scoured the aisles looking for streamers, fairy lights, pretty napkins, silver and white balloons, and whatever else was needed; putting it all into the basket that Toji was holding, still following you like a sort of puppy—or more like a guard dog with the menacing aura he carried around himself with every step he took.
Walking around you’d occasionally find something that caught your eye, tinkering around with the item for a couple seconds before putting it back down and walking over to the next intriguing thing—like a snow globe you found of a character you recognized filled with pink and white sparkly snow. You bet your ass you added that one to the basket. That hello kitty snow globe was a need, not a want. How something like that even found its way to a store like this was beyond you, but hey, you weren’t complaining.
You even found cute little hats while looking around and managed to get Toji to wear a pair of elf ears while you wore a Santa hat, telling him a silly joke about how he was Santa’s jolliest helper. That only earned you a huff, and roll of his eyes as he took off the ears and pulled the hat you wore down over your face, chuckling as he watched you make dramatics about how you were being suffocated despite being able to breathe perfectly fine.
Interacting like this with him gave you butterflies. You’d let him ruin your perfectly styled hair if it meant things were going back to the way they used to be between you both.
Everything was going fine.
You were actually having…fun. Which you hadn’t anticipated. You were so caught up about feeling like you were on thin ice with Toji, and though you still sort of felt that way, you felt ecstatic that things were beginning to feel normal. Like nothing even happened.
“Hmm, looks like the last thing on this list are more scented candles. Thought we already had some? Oh well.” You shrugged your shoulders. You think your own obsession with candles might have stemmed from your mom now that you think about it.
Toji leaned his body over your shoulder, looking down over your list himself at the check marked boxes except for one. You immediately stiffened up, not expecting him to get so close to you, and especially not for him to make body contact with you. You wish you didn’t have all these layers in the way. You internally shook the thought off before it could escalate. Now was not the time to be having these touched starved thoughts!
Pulling away from you, but still keeping close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, he put the basket down next to your feet. “Yeah, I saw a couple of those on the other aisle we passed by.”
“Oh good! One of us can get it. Stay here and I’ll quickly-“ Your suggestion didn’t even have a chance to reach the other end of Tojis ears before it got shut down.
“Nah, you stay here, and stay put while I grab it. And don’t go straying off you understand, kid?” Toji looked down at you, waiting for your answer. He’d rather not leave your side, especially since he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t get distracted by something and walk off like a lost mouse-but he tried to reason out in his head that it was only one item. He’d quickly get it and come back, and you’d still be there.
You weren’t going anywhere.
So why did he find it so hard to walk away from you? Must be some type of trauma he thinks.
Nodding your head, with a ‘Mhm! Promise. Not going anywhere. Nope, staying put.’ Toji searched your face to see if you were lying but decided you weren’t, and began jogging off towards another aisle in a different section of the store.
He couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about this as he looked over at all the scented candles, picking up the most expensive looking ones.
“S’not my money anyway..”
Maybe he should’ve just taken you along with him. It’s not like it would’ve caused the both of you any more hassle than going alone would. Shit. Something was gnawing at Toji to hurry the hell up and get back to you. As he briskly walked to the aisle where he had left you, he was met with something far worse than overpriced décor, and it had him seething.
There you were, face scrunched up, and looking highly uncomfortable as some random guy, around your age it seemed, was trying to flirt with you.
Keyword: Trying.
Toji didn’t know who this guy was but he knew damn well what was happening, and he wasn't going to let it slide. Not on his watch. That he wasn't even wearing.
You hadn't noticed Toji's arrival yet. Still preoccupied with keeping calm and trying to ignore this random man that thought it would be chivalrous of himself to make comments about your body. Saying things about how he doesn't know why your man let you out like that, and if you were his bitch he wouldn't let you out his sight.
It's a good thing Toji wasn't there to hear any of that.
What Toji did hear as he was silently coming up behind the both of you, that almost made him run up and deck the guy in the nuts was when he leaned his body down exaggeratedly to look at your ass and said, "DAMN. That's more ass than…. I've seen….in a while!"
This prick didn't even know where the hell he was going with that line, but Toji sure knew where that guy was gonna end up if he tried it again.
At this point, you were more than ready to kick this guy in the balls, but you didn't want to anger him. Who knows what this guy has got going on in his head? He's harassing you at a decor store for fucks sake!
Before you were thinking about making a run for it to the direction of where Toji had gone, deeming your situation helpless without him; it seemed like someone finally answered your prayers because the moment you looked back, there he was standing right behind the both of you.
'How did I not notice him?? He's wearing slides for god sake! I should've heard the 'plip' 'plaps'!'
"The fuck are you doing?"
The guy was still leaning down when Toji spoke up. He was about to cuss out whoever this other guy was for interrupting his daily "I objectify women for fun" hobby, until he looked up. There Toji stood, 6'2, built like he was made for war, in his shorts and slides, holding candles, and a look so threatening etched onto his face, you think this guy may have almost shit his pants. If the audible gulp meant anything.
"O-oh fuck. Look sir, I was just admiring your hard work, very beautiful daughter you have here. Didn't realize…Sorry." The way he ran away was almost pitiful. Almost. But none of you had any pity for trash.
'Well that was quick', Toji thought. He assumed he might've had to light up this candle he was holding and choke him with it but it seems that wouldn't be happening today.
That's one less crime the authorities could pinpoint on him.
Turning his attention towards you, he asked if you were alright.
"Sort of…not really. Being objectified isn't exactly the greatest feeling…" Toji noticed the way you hugged your hands around yourself, most likely trying to cover up. Suddenly feeling too exposed for comfort despite attempting to brush the interaction off.
Maybe you should've listened to Toji earlier and changed your clothes to something more fitting for winter weather. Screw looking cute.
Though, the regret didn't have a chance to get very far because suddenly you were being brought back to the present.
"Lift your arms up."
Huh? "Wh- why?" The next thing he did nearly had your heart leaping out of your chest. Taking off his puffer jacket, he nudged your arms to lift up so he could help put it through the holes of the sleeves. After checking to make sure it was on properly, he zipped it up a bit more than halfway and patted you down in an effort to make you look a little bit less like the emo version of the Michelin Man.
"You gonna be okay?" You were still a little surprised at the gesture, especially since it was coming from him of all people, but you answered, "..Yeah. Yeah, I'll be okay."
"Good. Lemme finish paying for all this crap and I'll drop you off at your place."
Leading the way towards the cashier, he placed his large palm over your lower back and kept it there until your goods were paid for, and you were out the door.
Situating yourself on the seats of Toji's car, you couldn't help but feel a smile creep up on you, desperately trying to bite it back. You're wearing his coat.
He put his coat on you.
You think you could die of happiness right now. But, you'll save that for later. That whole fiasco that happened at the store still had your mood all sour. You really didn't want to go home yet. And as Toji began to pull out of the parking lot, you spoke up.
"Toji? I don't really feel like going home yet.."
"Yeah? Aight. We'll stop somewhere, I know a place."
Nodding your head, you mumbled a 'thanks', grateful that he took the hint and didn't try to argue with you or ask any questions. Toji can be empathetic when he wants to be sometimes.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
Apparently, when Toji said he 'knew a place', you didn't expect it to be…this.
"Cinnabon? Really?"
"What? You don't like their cinnamon buns? We can go someplace else if you don't want em.”
You paused. Well, now that you were thinking about it…"Okay. Yeah. Yeah, I do like those."
“Besides,” Walking over to the counter to order, Toji got into line, “I remember ya telling me one time that you liked this place."
He still remembers something like that?
You didn’t answer. Instead you followed the nod of Toji’s head telling you to leave the ordering to him and to go find a table to sit at. Looking around, you saw that all the tables were already preoccupied. Damn. Walking back to Toji, you suggested ordering it to go and just finding some place else to sit at like that wooden bench you saw just outside the establishment, which he seemed to favor far more.
Leaving him to his vices, you exited the shop and went to sit outside on the storefront bench, patiently waiting for Toji to get back with your food. Looking around there was still a thin sheet of snow covering some areas of the pavement, most having melted throughout the day or driven over by now. Yet it seemed as though the temperature had no plans of rising as you breathed out a puff of steam, remaining at its crisp, nearly frosty condition. It felt peaceful.
The few minutes of alone time you had to yourself was the most silence your brain has allowed itself to be in within the 24 hours of Tojis reintroduction into your life.
The oversized puffer jacket you still had on made those hours feel shorter by reminding you of just how much "excitement" had managed to happen—you bet you looked silly as hell with it engulfing your frame, but you couldn't find it in you to care about that at this moment. Especially since it was serving its purpose of protecting you against the cold that you found yourself surrounded by as you sat there waiting.
Leaning back against the wood, you felt something hindering you from going all the way. Your teddy bear backpack. You forgot you even had it on as it was hidden underneath the coat Toji had quickly put on you. Yeah, you must've looked really stupid. Fighting back a grimace and ignoring the fact for your own peace of mind, you went to remove the coat. Leaving it piled behind you on the bench as you took off your bag, placing it onto your lap.
Reaching into your bag, you took out your trusty emergency makeup kit. Wouldn't hurt to do a quick touch up… Looking over in the direction of the sudden sound of a bell being rung, you peered over to your left to see that it was just someone stepping foot out the shop with a cup of what looked to be hot chocolate.
'Hopefully Toji get's back soon.'
Focusing back on the task at hand, you clicked open a compact inspecting the state of the way you looked with the mirror. The sight that greeted you brought out a breath of relief. Not a single thing out of place. But just in case, you patted on a little bit of powder for good measure, and reapplied your clear lipgloss so the cold air could struggle to nip at your lips.
After assessing what needed to be assessed, you put your pouch back into your bag and immediately piped up at the sound of the door chiming again. You couldn't help but do a small cheer as you saw that it was finally Toji approaching you, carrying a bag containing your icing drenched cinnamon bun, a hot drink of some sort, and a bottle of water.
Handing you your food and drink, you thanked him and immediately dug in once it was within your grasp. Taking a bite, a bit of steam emitted from the warm and gooey bun melting on your tongue, flooding your taste buds with a mix of sweet and nutty spice. Damn, you were a lot hungrier than you thought. But you suppose that's due to having skipped breakfast in the morning. Stuffing more into your mouth, your eyes met Toji's to see him already sitting beside you and looking down at you, snickering.
"Hwat?" The question came out muffled from your cheeks being stuffed like a squirrel.
He looked off to the side for a second, still snickering before he answered, "Nothin."
Swallowing your food down harshly, you pouted with your brows scrunched together and took notice that you were the only one eating.
"How come you didn't get yourself one?"
He deadpanned. "I don't want diabetes."
"Right…of course not…" Such a Toji answer, you thought.
It felt a little weird to be the only one eating, but he kept refusing everytime you asked if he was absolutely sure he didn’t at least want a bite. It was silent between you two except for the occasional slurp of your drink, and you think Toji noticed it too because suddenly he started conversing with you, catching up a little bit on how the both of you have been.
"So kid, how's the university life been treatin' ya?"
"Hm? Oh uhm, it's been alright I guess." You shrugged, fork still in hand.
"Just alright? Sounds pretty lackluster to me."
"It is." You sighed.
"You tellin' me you don't, what- party? Or done those weird cultist initiations you kids do at sororities."
"Yeah…no. I'm too busy actually studying most of the time. I've been to like 2-ish? parties, but that's about it. And sororities? You couldn't possibly pay me to join one of those.” You’ve heard one too many stories of premature deaths being caused by sororities. You didn’t particularly feel like gambling your chances. Plus, you weren’t really into the whole sisterhood-brotherhood thing, too weird.
As the conversation progressed between your frankly unexciting school life, Toji recalled some neighborhood fiasco that happened while you were away.
"...Then this kid's boyfriend starts beating up the guy that tried to take her purse."
"No way! This really happened in our neighborhood? Where like.. nothing ever happens?" To think that a crime had actually happened in the most safest, suburban of neighborhoods that you lived in for your whole life and you weren't there to witness it.
"I'm tellin' ya it was set up to make himself look good. A robbery in broad daylight? In this neighborhood? Bullshit."
"Why does all the exciting shit always happen when I'm not around?" You whined, sighing out your disappointment.
Closing the box to your nearly finished cinnamon bun and placing it beside you on the bench, you suddenly remembered something.
"By the way! My mom told me you have a son? How come you never mentioned him to me before?"
And just like that, Tojis brows immediately furrowed as if the question was one he hadn't expected to be asked, especially not coming from you. Leaning forward with a grunt, he rested an elbow on his knee, propping a palm under his chin as he proceeded to look at you with the most dramatically bored expression you’ve ever seen on someone's face- one that rivaled even yours.
It screamed, ‘let's get this shit over with.’
"You never asked. Besides, why you askin' about him now?"
You noticed the way his mood instantly changed after mentioning him but...it was probably nothing right?
Regardless, he didn't seem to be exactly… excited at the mention of his son, so you treated lightly with your next words. “Well, my mom is telling me that I should start looking for a good boy to date and she mentioned your son.”
He laughed out in disbelief. “Gumi? That boy? Ha, good luck with that. He wouldn’t know the first thing on how to treat a girl.”
He couldn’t treat you the way I could. Is what he wanted to say.
Awkwardly you answered, “Well… anyway, I don't think he even goes to my Uni…I think. So it wouldn't really be an option.”
Toji stayed silent.
The sudden uncomfortable silence that took over had you overthinking all over again.
What's wrong? Does he have a bad relationship with his son? Is that why he looks irritated? Should I ask? No. He might get more irritated. Shit. Okay, subject change.
Slamming your hands onto your thighs a little too hard in an attempt to calm your nerves, the sound seemed to catch Tojis attention. Snapping him out of whatever trance he was in, and back to his usual demeanor.
You rubbed your arms out of awkwardness. “Sooo, yeah. Sucks, I wasn't there to witness a fraudulent act of chivalry right in my own neighborhood."
Toji was thankful you moved on from the topic of his son, he didn’t want to think of that little squirt right now.
But then it got him wondering…
"You ever had a boyfriend before?"
The question surprised you a little. Okay maybe a lot. You didn't think he'd be even remotely interested in your love life.
"No… I've never had one." While there was no shame in not having had a significant other at your age, still you couldn't help but feel embarrassed admitting it to Toji.
Toji raised a brow in suspicion. "You sure you're staying clear of boys?"
This behavior he was exhibiting was starting to confuse the hell out of you. First he scolds you on your attire this morning, and now he's interrogating you on your love life? He was being way overprotective, almost acting as a parent, and it was seriously beginning to make you feel hopeless.
You nodded. "Yes, Toji. I'm not interested in college guys. They don't know what they're doing,"
That answer seemed to be good enough for Toji, but to both his and your utter surprise you continued, "But I've done other things."
Straightening his back up against the wooden bench in interest, Toji beckoned you to continue on. Truth be told, he didn't want to hear you talking about boys. Just the thought of you with some dumbass little boy made him irrationally bothered. But there was one thing itching at him to ask.
One thing he simply had to know.
"Oh yeah?"
"Just casual stuff. Nothing serious.."
Toji hummed. It was cute how you were beating around the bush about whatever 'things' you've done. He'll humor you this time around.
"We talkin' the 'clothes on' type of stuff?"
"Well…not exactly.."
Your lack of elaboration following your answer made Toji egg you on further.
"Don't start gettin' all shy on me now. Let me take a guess, this has somethin' to do with how you mentioned that college boy's don't know what they're doing, yeah?
And like clockwork, the words proceeded to flow past the tip of your tongue without a second thought.
"Remember how I also mentioned earlier that I've gone to only a few parties? Well at one of those parties, I got left alone by my friends in favor of hooking up with some guys they thought were hot."
"Sounds like some shitty friends."
You grunted. "Tell me about it. Anyways, here I am, sitting alone on this couch that's thankfully only mildly sticky from whatever wasted student had spilled their drink on top of it, and this guy sits right next to me. We talk, things happen, and we find an empty room."
Toji hums, signaling to you that he's still listening.
Immediately, irritation is apparent on your face by the way your eyes narrow as you recall the memory. "He puts his hands in my pants and this dumbass can't for the life of him find where my clit is and is just rubbing around. Then he has the nerve to ask if I came yet!? Bitch I'm not even moaning!"
Toji nods, intently listening to your rant. Biting back his amusement at your outburst.
"And the same fuckin thing happens again except with a different guy I had been seeing for less than a week. Except—get this, he asks me what a clit is. Like are you for real!?"
Taking a deep breath, you tried channeling your nerves. "So that's that. College boy's don't know where the clit is—hell, they don't even know of its existence."
Slumping your shoulders, you kicked at the tiny stones on the cement with your shoe.
"It's why I've never gone further than that."
If you were being honest, even if those guys did know their way around a woman's body, you don't think you could find it within yourself to stick around for it. You already knew what your mind was banging against your skull to say. Deep down, somewhere in the backrooms of your brain, you know it's because of Toji. It's always been him; the man you're still holding out for. Hoping he'd be the one to take your virginity.
Whatever. It was a pipe dream anyway. And you definitely weren't going to tell him that.
Speaking of telling him…
‘Why did you tell him all that!? Why did you have to run your mouth!!’
You stammered out an apology. The gravity of what you just up and confessed dawned on you, leaving you a cringing mess from within.
"I-I'm sorry…I don't even know why im telling you all this-"
Toji is quick to dismiss the apology. Truth be told, he was delighted to hear that you were still a virgin.
“Don't worry bout it’. It's nothing to be embarrassed of.
“I mean yeah…but still…”
Turning to face you, Toji placed his hand gingerly upon your thigh, giving it a light squeeze in what you assumed to be an attempt at reassurance or maybe it was comfort? You couldn't really tell, you just knew that the warmth of it felt nice.
“Listen, if I’m tellin’ you that being a virgin is nothin’ to be ashamed of, then its not. Look at it this way, you ain’t a teen mom, something not many can say nowadays.” He shrugged.
He kind of had a point. Though his comforting skills were kind of ass.
“Yeah..okay. Thanks for listening then.”
“No problem.”
You thought after your little rant the atmosphere would return to its awkward state as it seems that's how it had been every time you spoke with Toji—yet oddly enough, it felt like you had somehow managed to get closer to him by opening up about your struggles.
Suddenly feeling a spout of hunger befall you once more, you took the last remaining bite of your cinnamon bun, slowly licking off the icing that had gotten smeared onto your lips.
Toji eyed the action intently, internally shaking a head at himself.
‘This little minx..’ but before you could make eye contact he abruptly withdrew his hand, fishing a phone out his pocket and checking the time. Huh, you hadn't even noticed his hand had still been on you.
“It's already almost 4, think it's time to call it a day.”
With a sound of surprise, you rose up from your seat, closing the box once more as you watched Toji stand up from his own spot, already patting on his pockets for the car keys.
You hadn't even noticed that much time had gone by.
“Thanks again for the cinnamon buns and of course, for listening.”
Toji only hummed in acknowledgement.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
The ride home was spent surrounded by the sounds of muffled radio chatter, ever so slightly noticeable with the engine of the truck at a constant thrum. The sun surprisingly hadn't gone down yet as it typically would have on any other winter day and you made sure to thank your lucky stars for those few more minutes of sunlight.
On the other hand, you couldn't help but feel sad. You didn't want the day to end yet, especially not when progress had been made between the two of you. Then it hit you, progress had been made. While you didn't actually confront him about what had transpired on that faithless day, it was still worth celebrating.
Baby steps are still steps after all.
And the more you thought about it, it began to occur to you that today…today kinda felt like a date. In a messed up sense. To others this would've been a failure of a day, but to you? You were elated.
‘Maybe now's my chance to talk to him about what happened back then.’
Sitting up just a little bit straighter in your seat, you turned your head to face Toji, contemplating on the right words to say to him. Just when you were on the verge of starting your sentence, Toji’s phone suddenly began to ring, vibrating atop the center console.
Without bothering to check who was calling him, Toji answered the phone, putting it on speaker. Nothing to be worried about anyway, probably some scammer giving Toji his routine call.
“Yo, what’s up?”
Without a second to waste, a feminine voice practically cried from the other end.
“Tojiiii, baby it’s been so long, when are you coming over?? You know I miss you-”
Before this unknown lady could hope to finish her sentence, she was abruptly hung up on–courtesy of Tojis hand flying to take the call off speaker, fumbling for a good second only to ultimately end the call for good measure.
Clearing his throat, Toji continued to keep his eyes focused on the road ahead. Can't be having you both end up in a car crash right?
“Sorry about that, that was… just one of my old close friends.”
“Uh huh. Ya’ll must've been real close.”
Toji ignored the snark.
“Anyways, go ahead, what were you saying?”
“I…wasn’t saying anything.”
Thankfully the call was received just minutes short of arriving at your home. Pulling into the driveway, the truck on neutral, you waited a few seconds to see if Toji would say anything more. He didn’t.
Holding back a shaky sigh, you unbuckle your seatbelt and exited the vehicle, opening the passenger side to pick up the bags of decor that you went to buy in the first place.
“Wait, let me help ya out-” Toji last minutely interjected as he turned his body over in his seat to face you.
“No need. I already got it.” Picking up the last bag (thankfully they weren’t very heavy), you slammed the passenger door shut. You contemplated giving Toji a proper farewell bidding but with the way you were feeling right now? You didn’t want him to see the ache painted in your eyes. Instead, you continued walking down the shoveled path and up the steps to your house, fishing the keys out from your keychain and unlocking the door, closing it behind you.
Kicking your shoes off and slipping some slippers onto your feet, you laid the bags over the kitchen counter letting whoever discovered them first deal with the contents inside as you made your way up the stairs to your room, plopping onto your bed face first.
You nearly teared up at your own naivety.
Holy shit. ‘I’m so stupid.’ Was all you could think of as the booty call Toji had received replayed in your mind. This wasn’t any new information on Toji that you hadn’t already known about yet it hurt so bad.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
On the other hand, Toji couldn’t help but feel the same way. When he saw you safely get back into your home, he shifted gears to reverse, pulling out the driveway and driving back to his own place.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he pulled out his phone from the cup holder it fell into amidst his struggle to end the call earlier and proceeded to call them back.
One ring was all it took for them to answer, and one second was all it took for Toji to cut them off before they could say anything more.
“Don’t fuckin’ call me again, understand? Good. Now, fuck off.” Hanging up before she could respond or attempt to call back like an idiot, he blocked her.
Letting out a rather loud groan of irritation, he gripped the steering wheel with both hands in indignation, letting his head fall as he could feel a headache coming on.
“Fuck.”
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
Laying on your bed disappointed, you curled up thinking about the events that transpired earlier. The whole trip felt like an actual date—up until that call anyway. It was probably the worst way the day could have ended. Your bad luck was unimaginable.
“I need to find myself a four leaf clover or something at this point…”
Honestly, you didn't want to get out of bed. You wanted to lay down and wilt like a flower that never gets any sunlight. Stuffing your face into your arm, it occured to you that you were still wearing Toji’s jacket.
“Maybe I should stop trying to go after someone who’ll never like me back…” You mumbled to yourself, sitting up and throwing the coat towards the nearest chair it could land on.
Were you really this delusional? You saw the way he was looking at you—you shook your head, trying not to overthink it.
‘I guess I had the wrong idea.’
Feeling defeated, you knew if you wanted to continue moping about this, you’d have to do it after a shower; lest you end up skipping your skincare routine leaving you with another thing to sulk about.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
You couldn’t sleep.
Restless, you tossed and turned trying to find that sweet spot that would have you suddenly waking up to the birds singing. Come the fuck on..! I just want to sleep, dammit!
Grunting, it seemed no matter where you tried to place yourself within the comfort of your sheets and plethora of pillows engulfing you, you just couldn’t seem to knock yourself out.
Only one option left.
Slipping a hand underneath the blanket, you let your fingers wander across your skin. Giving each of your tits a soft squeeze under your shirt as you slowly began to relax, sighing in content at a teasing roll of your bud, slowly hardening at your touch.
Growing tired of the teasing and beginning to feel heavy with need, you ran a finger down your panties, keeping it firmly pressed against your slit as you slowly raised your hips up and down in tandem with your middle finger, rubbing yourself over the cotton material. You could feel yourself getting hotter, wetter. A small, sticky patch of your own arousal seeping through the garment as you finally had enough, moving your panties to the side and making contact with your sickened clit. You wasted no time in parting your lips with your pinky and index, and letting both your middle and ring finger draw tight circles over your bundle of nerves. Immediately settling into a steady rhythm that was sure to have you quickly coming undone.
As your breathing picked up, so did the small whimpers escaping through your lips. You tried your best to stay as quiet as possible, but fuck was it hard when all you wanted to do was mewl out a certain someones name, imagining it was him playing with your pussy like this.
Toji.
Even just sounding his name out in your head had you bucking your hips against the friction you were creating. His large, warm hand stuffed down your panties, and cupping your pussy from behind while rubbing at the entire expanse of your puffy cunt messily. Fast. Drenching his palm in your juices. Wondering what it'd feel like to have his long, fat fingers plunge into you as your own currently probes at your clenching hole, dipping in slightly only to take it back out. It didn't feel—wouldn't feel nearly as good unless it were his.
You felt so close. Your fingers were starting to ache as you exerted them, moving it against your swollen clit quicker than before. It started to hurt, but the feeling of adrenaline rushing through you to finish made your brain block it out, replacing it with the endorphins of white hot pleasure that you anticipated to burst at any minute now.
You clamped your legs around your hand, curling into your side like a ball. You wanted to stop, it was too much. But you were so fucking close. Your shaky whines were no longer being held back, eyes squeezed shut and the side of your face pressed against your pillow muffling it as best you could to prevent it from being heard outside.
Just a little more…
Come on come on come on..! Your hand wouldn't stop unless your body reached its peak, only increasing in its pace. Holding your breath, the sound of your palpating heart was deafening as you continued letting out harsh pants.
You felt the familiar feeling of your lower abdomen tightening, coiling up and finally bursting like a dam. Your toes curled up as you threw your head back further into the pillow, unable to stop the sudden cry of Toji’s name that accidentally slipped out from your parched mouth at the pressure of your orgasm rushing over you like a tidal wave.
Before you could bask in your post orgasmic bliss, Toji bursts through your door. The fucking man himself. In the flesh..?
In a panic, you pull your stiff hand away from between your legs as if it were scalding hot oil, grasping the blanket up towards your chin to cover what you’d just been essentially caught doing.
“Heard you screamin’ my name out, sweetheart.”
You’d think any normal reaction to being intruded on by the person you were just fantasizing about would be to first ask some questions—yet there you laid calm as a cucumber, watching as he inched closer to you.
Toji smirked. “Don’t start gettin’ all shy on me now. Let me hear you scream my name again for me.”
You don’t know how he got to you so quickly but Toji was already slipping his hand under the covers towards your pussy, finding it slick and sticky from your high, smearing it all over as he ran his fingers up and down your sensitive slit.
Retracting his hand back from underneath, he relished in the way your arousal stuck to his fingers like a spider's web as he spread them out, glistening against the soft lighting of your suddenly oddly hazy looking room.
Fueled with newfound urgency, Toji threw the covers off of you, yanking your body up to stand on the floor as you both made your way towards your vanity, back hitting the edge of it as you steadied yourself against Toji's chest. It was all moving too quickly. Too fast. Before you could stop to process your surroundings properly, Toji’s large hand hastily groped your tits as his other fingers that were touching on your pussy earlier prodded at your mouth to open. Without a word, you wrapped your lips around them like a good girl, sucking—tasting yourself before he removed them in order to turn you around.
Just then, you realized you both were naked as Toji lifted one of your legs up onto the vanity, dragging his wet fingers over his cock as he moved to align it with your dripping hole. You couldn't form a thought. As if on autopilot. Only the unbridled, desperate need to have Toji in you remained.
No. Scratch that. You felt your own thoughts before you could form them, as if it weren’t your own. It definitely was though. You don’t think anyone could too how fucking badly you wanted this man. Now he was finally about to fuck you? You may as well have been the luckiest woman on planet earth.
And as you begin to feel the sensation of Toji's cock about to enter you—confirming that notion, the door to your room bursts open again.
Wait.
“Wake up.”
What?
“Wake up!”
Is that my fucking cat talking!?
“WAKE UP!”
Groggily opening your eyes, you're met with early winter sun seeping through your thin curtains, casting a hazy glow into your room. You hear birds singing.
“What the hell was that…” Stretching the sleep out of your limbs, you noticed your hand was still situated inside your panties.
You closed your eyes, trying to recall your dream. “So half of that was real?” Well, up until Toji bursted into your room, you suppose. And when your cat spoke up telling you to wake the fuck up.
Ugh.
Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes, leaning over the bedside to pull your diary sitting on your nightstand towards your lap. You had to write this shit down.
- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -
After jotting down as much as you could recall from the dream without mixing it up with what you were actually getting up to in real life, you left the diary on the same vanity dream version Toji almost dicked you down on.
Throughout the day, you couldn’t stop thinking about Toji. Hell, your feelings for him increased tenfold just from that measly dream alone. You don't know if it's solely your dreams doing that made you feel like you suddenly had a genuine chance with him but fuck it.
You thought about the events of yesterday and recalled when he grasped your thigh. That couldn’t have just been nothing right? The way he eyed your lips too as you licked icing off them. He didn't think you noticed, but you did. Of course you did. It was on purpose after all.
And the icing on the cake? When you brought up his son, Megumi. You didn't want to assume anything but you could've sworn you sensed jealousy swimming in those green eyes of his. How ironic.
Shit, maybe you do have a chance with Toji after all. All he needs is a little push.
With all the evidence stacked up in your favor, you knew you had to devise a plan.
A plan on how to seduce your neighbor.
You giggled to yourself.
“Mama chose a thought daughter.”
© SUGUCIDAL 2024 — All rights reserved. Do not copy, modify, or redistribute my work without permission.
#୨♡୧ — 𝐉𝑼𝐉𝐔𝐓𝑺𝑼 𝐊𝐀𝒊𝐒𝑬𝐍#⸼ ׁ꒰ ᵗᵒʲⁱ ᶠᵘˢʰⁱᵍᵘʳᵒ ꒱ ׁ⸼#neighbor! toji x reader#neighbor! toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro fluff#toji smut#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader#toji x you#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#toji fluff#toji fic#toji fushiguro fic#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro fanfic#toji fanfic#toji fushiguro series#jjk self insert#jjk fic#jjk series#jjk fluff#jjk toji
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
hi b! your mail order bride snippet was amazing!! I totally relate to taking the cat with her! tbh I think by the end of the first week the kitty will have Simon wrapped around their paw lol
mail-order bride
you sit up in bed as the bathroom door flies open, the knob banging against the wall as simon nearly stomps his way into the bedroom. you rub your sleepy eyes, watching as he holds the cat by the scruff of its neck until he can toss it onto the floor at the foot of the bed. the cat hops up onto the bed, sitting at your feet, and simon snarls as he stares back at it (it isn't allowed on the bed).
"can't even take a fuckin' shit, starin' right at me," he snaps at you, and you blubber a little, not knowing what to say right away. "i told ya to keep that fuckin' thing away from me."
"she likes you," you say sleepily, sniffing as you shrug. "she just wants to be near you."
"i said no pets!"
you blink up at him, "i-i'm sorry, simon--" you go to push the covers off to get out of bed, but simon comes closer, pushing you back into bed.
"don't get out of bed, why are ya gettin' out of bed? it's too fuckin' cold."
"y-you seem upset," you sniffle, "i just--" you put your hand over his gently. "she just likes you, simon. can't you see that?"
it is early. when simon goes back into the bathroom, you lay back down and let the warmth of the covers lull you back to sleep.
when you wake in the morning, eyes fluttering, simon is laying beside you still. it's odd, because he gets up before the sun comes up, but when you turn over to face him, your eyes widen a little. simon is wide awake. he's on his stomach, his face smushed into the pillow like usual, but he's so angry. his face is contorted into a scowl, and the cat is curled up on the base of his neck, their little head resting on the back of his head as they sleep peacefully, little purrs escaping every so often.
simon locks eyes with you, and you bite your lip, uneasy.
"what the fuck am i supposed to do?!" he hisses. "it's been 'ere all fuckin' mornin'!"
you slap your hand over your mouth to stop the giggles, and simon growls a little.
"get it offa me!"
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon thoughts#order up
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
A Package Deal - Part 6 (the finale)
Our time has come, this labor of love is *finished* (at least for now, i could probably be convinced to return to these loves soon)
warnings: none pairing: lando x singlemom!reader word count: 2k words
- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - A Package Deal - Part 4 - A Package Deal - Part 5 - Master List
yourusername (private) posted



yourusername cold but happy carlossainz still can't believe you convinced Lando to spend Christmas in the cold. >>>yourusername oh it wasn't me! Stella said she wanted to learn how to ski, next thing I know he's booking a 2 week trip to Switzerland! >>>landonorris what my girl wants, my girl gets. 🤷🏻
Christmas, 2025 "Momma, are you sure Santa knows to bring my presents here this year and to not leave them at home?" The concern etched on Stella's face has you grinning into your wine glass.
"Yes, my darling." You assure her, patting her head as she snuggles deeper into Lando's side. "I wrote him a letter weeks ago, remember? You were with me when we mailed it! When you wake up tomorrow morning, all of your presents will be underneath that tree right over there."
This had been Stella's number one concern ever since Lando had announced that he'd booked a house at one of the most exclusive resorts in Gstaad, Switzerland for the Christmas holiday. You had spent a significant amount of time since discussing the fact that yes, Santa did know she wasn't going to be at home this year and yes, he would be able to deliver her presents here instead.
You had been in the mountain town for a few days now, spending nearly every waking moment on the slopes. It was beginning to feel routine, the way you all woke up around the same time and had breakfast together before getting your snow gear on and heading out onto the mountain. You had enrolled Stella in ski school that first day, despite Lando's protests that he could absolutely teach her to ski by himself, and she was thriving. It took a Herculean effort to get her off of her skis every evening but you were happy Stella was having fun.
Today you had managed to get Stella off the mountain early in order to go to dinner with Max and Pietra, who were also staying at the resort for Christmas. Max's initial reservations about Lando dating a single mom had long since evaporated into thin air, after he had seen how much both Stella and Lando adored each other this year. By the middle of the summer, you and Pietra had also become much closer as well, so you enjoyed traveling with Lando's friends who you now considered yours as well.
There was a crackling fire in the huge fireplace that took up most of the external wall of the large four bedroom chalet-style home and above the fireplace, Elf played on the tv. Stella was snuggled up between you and Lando, her head buried underneath Lando's arm, while her feet were stretched across your lap. Lando's arm is flung over the side of the couch, his fingers tangled in yours as his thumb brushes soft circles over the back of your hand. After a few days with a lot of activity, it felt nice to finally spend the evening relaxing in the quiet of your own space.
As the credits to Elf begin to roll, you tap Stella's feet, a signal that it's time to get moving. "Come on, baby girl, it's time for bed. Go brush your teeth and then I'll be in to read more of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and tuck you in, okay? The sooner you get to sleep, the faster Santa comes!"
Stella stretches out her legs and whines, sounding a lot like a cat after it wakes up from a long nap. "I want Dad to tuck me in tonight."
The entire world goes still as you suck in a breath at the name she just used for the very first time. On the other side of the couch, you see Lando freeze too, gaze snapping straight to you as his fingers tighten around yours. The request has your heart squeezing in your chest, a response to her question simply unable to form in your brain.
Stella senses the mood shift in the room and glances up first at you and then over at Lando. "What? Can't Daddy tuck me in just this once?"
Daddy.
Lando's stomach does a somersault up into his throat as he grips onto your hand for reassurance. Had she just...
It really shouldn't have been a surprise, he'd realize later once Stella was fast asleep and you were curled up in his arms in your shared bed. Ever since Silverstone back in July, Lando had practically moved in to your house in all but name. He'd decided to rent out his Monaco apartment to one of the new rookie drivers next season, choosing to remain full time in England where you were. The teachers and parents at school all knew him not as Lando Norris, Formula 1 driver but as the man that often picked up Stella from school whenever he was able to. Stella's teacher had even begun including him on her weekly email newsletters she always sent out on Friday afternoons. He was as ingratiated into this family as both you and Stella were.
But hearing her call him dad for the first time? The new title did something to Lando's heart that he wasn't sure he'd ever recover from.
Emotion claws at his throat as he struggles to find the simple words to answer her request.
"Of course he can, honey." You whisper, seeing the shock and adoration sit heavy on Lando's face. Your own voice is with thick with emotion too. "Do you need help finding some jammies to change into?" You ask as Stella slowly gets up from her little nest between you and Lando.
"Dad can help me." She says with a shrug, as if the name is the most natural thing in the world.
Lando moves to get off the couch as Stella pads down the hallway, the brand new teddy bear she had conned him into buying at a shop today tucked into the crook of her elbow. He squeezes your shoulder as you look up at him, brilliant smile stretching over your face.
"You okay?" You ask as he rounds the couch, following behind Stella, dazed look still on his face.
Lando rubs at the back of his neck, stopping for a moment before turning back to you. His eyes shimmer with tears as he glances behind him and then back at you. "I think so...is...is that okay with you? Her calling me..." He pauses, trying to work his mouth around the next word, "dad like that?"
You're surprised to see concern flit across his face, like you could possibly be upset at what had just happened. "Lando." You murmur, rising from the couch to stand in front of him. You slip your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips are warm despite the fact that his kiss is hesitant at first. He quickly reads the emotion you pour into him though: confidence, love, desire. All of it positive and he knows without needing to hear anything vocalized that you're just happy about his new title as he is.
You tuck your head into his neck, nuzzling at the warm spot you love so much. "She loves you so much and so do I. You're the best thing that could have ever happened to us, Lando Norris."
Lando chuckles. "I think it's the opposite way around, my love. You two are the best thing that could have ever happened to me."
"DAAAAAAD" From the end of the hall, Stella's little voice calls out and you both can't help the laugh that pulls you apart. "I'm waaaaaaiting!!! Stop kissing Momma and come read to me!" She demands.
"The Princess awaits." Lando mutters before giving you one last peck on the cheek and turning away to walk down the hall towards Stella's room.

Over an hour later and you're 2 glasses of wine deeper than you were when Lando left you, still sitting alone on the couch. You're beginning to think he's fallen asleep putting Stella to bed only because you've done the same thing countless amounts of times over the years when you hear the door to her room whisper open.
"You were in there a long time." You murmur as Lando sits down on the couch before he pulls you into his lap. You set the wine glass down on the side table next to you so you can wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.
"Stella and I had some things to discuss." He says lightly.
Lando's body relaxes as he tucks his head into your neck. If there's one thing you adore about your boyfriend you'll adore until the ends of time it's how affectionate he is. He's always touching you when you're near and he never gives half-hearted hugs, they're something he pours his full body into. The same goes with cuddling, it's never halfway with Lando when it comes to physical affection and you simply cannot ever get enough.
"Oh?" You laugh, grinning at him. "And what are you two plotting now?"
Lando shifts, glancing away as if he's nervous to answer your question. "Stella calling me dad just had me thinking about things..."
You lift an eyebrow. "Things?"
"Yeah" Lando nods. He takes a deep breath and pulls you closer into his chest. "I just got to thinking and maybe it’s time we make things official."
"What are you talking about?" Confusion has you pulling away from him so you can look at him. There's a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth and you have to resist the urge to kiss him, despite the fact that you are fully lost as to what he's talking about. "You’ve been calling me your girlfriend for months now?"
He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, I mean official official. With this." Lando lifts his hips off the couch and pulls out a black velvet box from his pocket. For the second time that night, your heart stalls in your chest, world tilting a bit on its axis.
"Lan." You whisper before sucking in a breath as he opens the top of the ring box. Nestled in the black velvet sits the most gorgeous ring you'd ever laid eyes on. It's simple and perfect and something you would have picked out on your own had you been let loose in a jewelry store.
"Marry me, baby." Lando's voice is thick, anxiety and nerves evident in every syllable that comes out of his mouth. "I never want to go back to a world where you and Stella aren't in my life. Stella sees me as her dad, I hope you can see me as your husband and father of the rest of our babies one day. I love you so much l. Spend the rest of your life with me?
It's a wonder the sound of your heart clattering against your ribcage doesn't wake Stella up it's so loud. Blood rushes past your ears so loudly, the sounds of the house are muffled for a moment and all you can do is stare at Lando. He doesn't move, a look of anxiety and love and hundreds of other emotions sitting so plainly on his face you can barely form a thought.
"Of course. Oh my god. Of course." Your right hand finds his cheek and you frame his face with your hand as he takes your left hand before slipping the ring on your finger. A perfect fit.
"Yeah?" A wash of relief crashes over Lando because for a moment he thought you were about to reject him.
When he had finished reading a chapter of Stella's book to her, he had as casually as he could brought up the idea of them being a family for real next year. Stella had been a bit confused, asking him if the weren't already a real family but Lando had quickly explained he meant he wanted to marry you but only if Stella thought that was a good idea because she was part of their family too and what she thought mattered to him just as much as what you thought.
You nod, laughing through your tears before crashing your lips to his in a heated kiss. "Yeah." You mutter against his mouth.
"I was going to do this tomorrow morning" Lando pulls away, glancing down at your hand that's still captured between his. "But it just felt right tonight. Stella was so excited, she started asking what kind of dress she’d get to wear at the wedding."
"Oh Lando." You coo before you allow him to lay you down on the couch, kissing you as he goes.
yourusername (private) posted



123 likes liked by BFFSarah, CarlosSainz, yourdad, and others yourusername mrs. norris has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? 😘 BFFSarah OH. MY. GOD. I'm sobbing. Bestie. I love you. I love him. I love Stella. I'm so happy for you!!! >>>yourusername ❤️❤️❤️ thank you babes >>>BFFSarah sorry, back again to tell you holy SHIT that ring!! @/landonorris you did good!! >>>landonorris why thank you! ☺️
landonorris posted



1,098,874 likes liked by yourusername, mclaren, zakbrownceo, and others landonorris santa can't compete with my present this year zakbrownceo congratulations to both of you!!! we'll have to throw a little party when you're back in the new year! >>>yourusername thanks zak!! you are too good to us! user009 the gold digger got what she wanted...how long til she's knocked up with baby number 2? gotta get that bag somehow... >>>user221 seriously. bro fell for the oldest trick in the book. fucking gross. >>>user223 hey so this is a fucking WILD thing to say about someone you don't even know so publicly. JESUS. user928 OH MY GOD THEY'RE ENGAGED user230 we're going to get dad lando content FOREVER >>>user929 the way i live for stella/lando content and now we get even MORE??? Yes please!!!
@shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff
#f1#formula 1#lando norris#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#ln4#lando norris fanfic#lando x you#lando x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#ln4 x reader#lando norris fic#lando norris x singlemom!reader#boyfriend lando#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Title: Daytrip.
Pairing: Yandere!Illumi x Reader (Hunter x Hunter).
Word Count: 5.6k.
TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Captivity, Mentions of Kidnapping, Mentions of Animal Death, Semi-Public Sex, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Isolation, and Stalking.
The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was, per usual, Illumi’s face.
His dark eyes wide and unblinking, his skin bloodlessly pale, his lips pulled into a thin, neutral line – and all of it no more than three inches away. You were too numb to his off-putting proximity to scream, but you flinched back into your pillow on instinct, and Illumi took the hint, lingering for another half second longer before drawing back. A few months ago, you might’ve scrambled away, barricaded yourself in the smallest corner of your lavish bedroom, but now, you only rolled onto your side, regarding him with the same exhausted resignation that you used to pay to your cat, when she woke you up three hours early for no other reason than her own selfish desire not to spend the small hours of the morning alone.
“What’s up?”
It might’ve been a little too casual of a greeting for your kidnapper, but he didn’t seem to mind. “There are clothes waiting for you on your vanity. The butlers will help you dress as soon as possible.”
So this was going to be an out-of-bed thing, after all. Reluctantly, you started pushing yourself up. “Are we in a hurry for a reason, or…?”
There was a brief moment of consideration, then a resolute nod from Illumi. You let out an inward sigh. “Okay, whatever, that’s my fault. Why are we in a rush, ‘lumi?”
“I have something planned for the two of us.” If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought you saw his expression light up. “A daytrip, I believe.” And then, as if as an afterthought, “I’m very excited.”
Illumi’s excitement was normally something you tried to avoid, but your mind seemed to glaze over that and settle on the word ‘daytrip’ instead. Daytrips meant traveling. Daytrips meant activities.
Most pressingly, daytrips meant getting to leave the empty, lifeless, murderer-infested wasteland that was his family’s estate for the first time since he carried you through its gates. You knew better than to say that in as many words, though.
“And for this daytrip, we’ll be going…” You trailed off, gesturing in the direction you felt most strongly would lead back to civilization. “…out there?”
“We’ll be leaving the mountain, yes.”
“And we’ll be going place where other people are?”
“I suppose so, if it can’t be avoided.”
“And your family wasn’t involved with this at all?”
“They don’t think it’s right for you to be given so much freedom so quickly,” he explained. “I disagree. Even well-trained dogs have to be walked.”
For the first time ever, you had to resist the urge to kiss him.
Instead, you only let yourself smile, casting your sheets aside and settling for a brief but bone-crushing hug. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You pulled away abruptly, sliding off of the mattress. “I—I’ll get dressed!”
Illumi didn’t move, didn’t react, but his eyes followed you as you stumbled across the room – happier than you’d been in months.
~
A little less than an hour later, you were spread across Illumi’s lap in the back of a surprisingly conspicuous black car, the divider raised to block a faceless driver from view. It took a concerted amount of effort to keep your attention on anything but the window, but you managed, only sparing the occasional glance towards the passing scenery.
You watched the mountainside spiral downward as Illumi’s hands settled around your waist, measuring the widening gaps between dense patches of forestry as his mouth ghosted over the side of your neck. It’d always surprised you – how tactile he was, how someone so cold could be so fond of peppering feather-light kisses into your collarbones and groping at your thighs. It’d been weeks since the last time you tried to brush off his affection. As far as you were concerned, there were worse things he could do to you than mimic the behavior of a more conventional boyfriend.
(At some point, you’d come to think of Illumi as the unclimbable, unmovable, twenty-foot-tall wall that separated you from freedom. You didn’t like him, sure, but you had to recognize that on your own, you had no chance of getting past, over, or around him. If something happened to render him a little weaker, a little less tall, a little more susceptible to opening his gates, then things might change, but you couldn’t rely on elusive possibilities. The way you saw it, you could either waste your time trying to overcome an insurmountable obstacle, or you could save your energy and try to make things as pleasant on this side of the wall as was humanly possible, given your below-standard working conditions. Until you met someone willing to offer you a ladder, at least.)
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and your eyes flitted back to the window. You were passing buildings, now – houses and apartments, people dotted in front of them blurred mannequins. “Can you tell me where we’re going, or am I not supposed to know?”
He seemed to think for a second, but answered quickly enough. “Brunch, first,” he said, not bothering to pull away from you. “The rest is a surprise.”
You pursed your lips. You used to like surprises, but Illumi had managed to change a lot of things about you. “Is ‘the rest’ something I’ll like?”
“It’s something you’ve been known to enjoy.”
It took everything you had not to roll your eyes. You’d been ‘known to enjoy’ a lot of things, most of which Illumi had taken away from you.
There was one more open-mouthed kiss pressed into your collarbone, one more stolen glance of the outside world, and then, the vehicle was easing to a steady halt in front of a rustic, almost quaint building. A café, you realized, as Illumi stepped out in front of you, holding the door open while you stared wide-eyed at the perfectly idyllic, perfectly normal restaurant. The cute type, with a triangular roof and a greenery-laden front porch and chipped paint on either side of the front door.
Subconsciously, some part of you must’ve decided that you’d never see anything more charming or more homey than the lifeless grounds of Illumi’s estate again. You opted not to linger on that, as you stepped out of the car.
The interior was similarly fairytale-esque. There weren’t any other customers or wait-staff, which you’d expected, but string lights hung from the rafters, fresh wildflowers sitting in pitchers on each table. Illumi let you choose where to sit, and you shot for a spot closest to the front windows – bay-style and freshly cleaned, the kind of thing you might’ve stared longingly out of while nursing an overpriced latte for the better part of an hour. Suit-clad butlers stood guard on either side of the door, but if you were lucky, you’d still be able to catch the occasional pedestrian walking by. You would’ve given anything to sit in a room filled to bursting with other people, but since you couldn’t have that, you’d settle for being able to watch a handful from a distance.
“You’re staring.”
“So?” You responded to Illumi without looking away. “You stare at me all the time.”
“That’s different. I have a reason to look at you.”
“Which is?”
“I love you.”
It might’ve been easier to believe if he hadn’t said it with all the warmth and all the affection of a corpse, already given time to cool.
You changed the topic swiftly.
“It’s a little nostalgic, honestly. I used to come to places like this all the time, especially before I made any friends in the city. It was nice to feel lonely in a aloof-and-mysterious kind of way, instead of an anti-social-and-depressed sort of way.”
“Oh, you were never really alone.” You didn’t say anything, but you made the mistake of shifting your gaze onto him, of spurring him forward with the reward of your attention. “It was a guilty pleasure of mine – spending time with you before we met. I preferred it when you sat outside. It was easier to smell your perfume, in the open air.”
You grit your teeth. It wasn’t the most disturbing thing he’d ever admitted, but it definitely made the list. ��…I think I would’ve remembered sitting next to someone like you.”
If he’d been more expressive, you could’ve imagined him smirking. “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”
There was a brief lapse, a moment of uncertainty on your part. Finally, you asked, “Did I smell… nice?”
“Very.” Illumi didn’t share your sense of trepidation. “Like cinnamon.”
You hummed, and as if by magic, a waitress appeared from the door to an unseen kitchen – white knuckling her pen with one hand and driving her nails into her notepad with the other. She took your orders with a terrified sort of professionalism, and before you left, you convinced Illumi to give you all the cash he was carrying at the moment (a sum that easily added up to half a year’s worth of rent, handed over without so much as a passing question) and left it on the table for her to find.
~
Your second stop was as surprising as Illumi had promised. If anything, he’d undersold it.
If the quaintness of the café had been enough to throw you into a stupor, then the sheer scale of the building in front of you could’ve sent you to an early grave. A mall – a nice mall, either recently built or nestled so far into the upper-class shopping district that you never would’ve come across it organically, the type with glass where there should’ve been walls and a fountain without any coins at the bottom. You were tempted to try and pester loose change off of one of the butlers flanking you, but decided against it. The café, you could’ve stumbled into on your own, without Illumi’s intervention. It just didn’t feel right to leave a mark where you so obviously didn’t belong.
More similarly to the café, though, the inside of the shopping complex was startlingly empty. Butlers and hired security were posed in front of exits, but other than that, it wasn’t hard to believe that you and Illumi were the only people on the property. As soon as you were past the initial entryway, you ducked into the closest store – a high-end cosmetics retailer. The door was unlocked, but there was no cashier at the register. Like someone had already come through and cleared it out.
“This is some backrooms shit,” you mumbled to yourself, and then, to Illumi, ever-hovering just over your shoulder. “You didn’t… you know, do what you normally do to people you don’t like, right?”
“Are you asking me if I killed everyone in this shopping complex prior to our arrival?”
“Well, not everyone,” you clarified. “Maybe just the employees?”
He didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth turned ever-so-slightly upward, as if you’d said something funny. “No, that would’ve taken far too much time.” The unnecessary loss of life went unacknowledged. “The building’s rented out, and the stock’s been purchased in advance. You’re only deciding what you’d like to keep.”
Huh.
One day, you were going to sit him down and have a long, long talk about class privilege and resource waste. If you were feeling generous, you might even throw generational wealth onto the lecture, just to make sure he got the full picture.
One day, but not today.
“The third floor always has the best stores,” you said, turning on your heel and grabbing Illumi’s hand, too distracted to think anything of the gesture. “Let’s start there.”
You weaved in and out of stores with reckless abandon, hyper-aware that you had no one’s time to waste but your own. Essentials were overlooked entirely, makeup and self-care supplies limited to eyeshadow pallets with no less than several dozen eye bleeding colors and bath-bombs that were more glitter than pigment, and clothes made up the bulk of your adoration. Everything that wasn’t in your size had already been removed – something as worrying as it was convenient. The only thing you refused to try on was loungewear. It would’ve been practical, sure, but you didn’t need to be reminded that this was likely the last time you’d ever leave Illumi’s sprawling home.
“You know,” you called from a dressing room, pulling a gingham dress over your head. You couldn’t see Illumi, but you were sure he wasn’t far. He didn’t seem to have much of an interest in shopping, but his favorite hobby was looming over your shoulder like some blank-eyed, haphazardly domesticated bird of prey, so it balanced out. “If this had been our first date, I probably would’ve married you.
You heard him hum as a weight settled against the dressing room door. “I enjoyed our first date. It was endearing – how long you rested your head in my lap.”
“Well, yeah. The paralytics you used were so strong, I couldn’t move for three days.” You’d still lose feeling in your left arm, if you held it at the wrong angle. It reminded you a little of your cat, after she first came around to the idea of sitting in your lap. You’d been so afraid of scaring her off, you’d let your legs fall asleep before you so much as thought about moving her. “I just meant that the whole ‘kidnapping’ thing probably wouldn’t have been necessary, y’know? I wasn’t exactly in a place to be picky when it came to creepy rich men.”
There was a brief lapse of silence, and you finally managed to drag the bodice of the dress into place. “I never considered that.”
It shouldn’t have surprised you to hear that Illumi wasn’t the dating type, and yet, you let out a breath of a laugh. “You never thought about asking me out? Not even once?”
“…no, I didn’t.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he sounded shy. “It was hard to be practical. I was distracted. You were perfect, and contained, and I thought touching you would be—” For the first time, his voice seemed to dip, to grow just a little quieter. “—vulgar. It would’ve changed you, to know I was there.”
The skirt was layered, and you bit back the urge to curse as you smoothed over the layers of cotton and lace. “I think being abducted might’ve changed me, too.”
“It was the better option. Something would’ve fallen out of place eventually, but like this, I could save you. Only your environment had to be altered.”
He made it sound like he’d sealed you behind glass, rather than underneath a mansion occupied by the world’s most dangerous killers. You’d known better than to hope he’d be able to come up with a selfless reason for your prolonged captivity, but still. Hearing that you were miserable because he needed a ballerina to decorate his music box with stung more than you would’ve liked to admit.
“…it’s unlocked. You can come in, if you want.” Immediately, you heard the dressing room door creak open, and turned your attention towards your reflection. Out of the countless you’d tried on, there was a reason you’d saved this dress for last. You used to fantasize about being able to afford something so wonderfully needless, something you wouldn’t have had to justify with things as joyless as ‘function’ and ‘practicality’. Even now, the puffiness of the sleeves and the lace detailing around the collar and the tiny, almost impossible-to-see hearts printed onto the checked pattern felt exorbitant – borderline garish. You still didn’t have any reason to wear it, any place you could’ve gone to show it off, but then again, you didn’t have much of a reason to do much of anything when you were with Illumi. You guessed, in a roundabout kind of way, that meant you got to do whatever you wanted to.
Illumi came to stand behind you, and you leaned back, kissing his cheek gingerly. “I’ll add it to the pile. Thanks for this, ‘lumi.”
His hands found their way to your hips, settling there as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Keep it on. It suits you.”
You tried to laugh, but fell short – your smile falling into something more strained. You really shouldn’t have said anything, but you were talking before you could stop yourself, before you could think better of it. “The cinnamon,” you started, speaking against the dryness in your throat. “When I first moved to the city, the only apartment I could afford was flat above a bakery. The ventilation was awful, and the landlord was impossible to get a hold of, and everything I owned smelled like sugar and cinnamon and bread. I couldn’t touch anything sweet for months, after I moved out.”
It was all you could do to bite down on your tongue and force yourself to stop, to shut up, to remember who you were talking to. Illumi’s response was less dramatic – as instantaneous as it was muted.
“How fitting,” he said, with a chime of a laugh. “Sweet things belong in sweet places.”
…
You could only be mad at yourself, really. What else were expecting? It wasn’t like he was going to get down on his knees and apologize, for fuck’s sake.
You sighed, melting into Illumi’s chest. Of course, he welcomed you with open arms.
~
You didn’t end up keeping any other dresses. A few other articles of clothing, a couple pairs of shoes, a small fortune’s worth of little luxuries that’d help you pass the time when you were returned, kicking and screaming, to solitary confinement, but no dresses. Well, aside from the one you were wearing, of course.
It wasn’t long before Illumi started gently ushering you to the nearest exit, and already thoroughly defeated, you didn’t try to resist. You only got distracted once on your way out, and not for very long. Illumi made sure of that.
It was kiosk-type stand – the glass cabinets filled with high-end pet toys and animal-themed tchotchkes. You couldn’t stop yourself, gasping as you broke away from Illumi and darted to the first thing that caught your eye: a bright pink collar with silver spikes, adorable and cliché and so, so cute. It was clearly meant for a dog, but it could’ve fit a cat. Or, you probably would’ve tried to make it fit a cat, rather.
Illumi appeared at your side, as always, and you started talking without looking up. “I’m sorry, I know we’re in a rush, but it just—” You paused, trying and failing to bite back a smile. “I had this cat before you took me – her name was Ghost. She used to be the neighborhood stray, but she was getting pretty old, and I think other cats were picking on her. Eventually, I just started letting her in, and after a while, she stopped leaving. She would’ve hated something like this.” You held up the collar, gesturing dismissively before forcing yourself to set it back down. “She never really liked me. Whoever took her in shouldn’t have had too much trouble winning her over, after I disappeared.”
“Ghost,” he repeated. “Was she a black cat?”
“Yeah, that’s where her name came from. I couldn’t see her at all at night, and she could knock over anything that wasn’t nailed down. It was like living with a poltergeist.”
“She’s dead.”
You felt something small and vital tear open and start to bleed. “…excuse me?”
“You two were quite close. Had she been given the time, she would’ve woken you up the night I came to get you. I didn’t want that.” It took an embarrassing amount of time for you to make the connection, to form the link, to realize why the pain in your chest was quickly becoming so unbearable. “We can get another, if you’re upset. As a couple.”
The shock was numb, if there was any shock to be had at all. “It’s fine,” you managed, eventually, and despite the strain behind your voice, Illumi didn’t argue.
Instead, he glanced towards the nearest glass wall, to where the sun was just beginning to set over the horizon. “We should go.”
“I didn’t realize we were on a schedule.”
“You weren’t supposed to. I told you earlier – the last stop is a surprise.” This time, he was the one to take your hand, squeezing gently as he laced his fingers with yours.
It might’ve been a nice gesture, if his touch hadn’t been cold enough to burn.
~
You weren’t really sure what the third and final stop was supposed to be, at first.
An old sort of a dream knotted and coiled in your chest as his driver ferried you out of the city, metropolis shuttering into mountain backwoods. You’d never really been afraid of Illumi killing you (not when there were so many things that were so, so much worse than death), but as the car eased to a stop on the side of single-lane road, it was hard to imagine why else he would’ve taken you so far from the nearest scrap of civilization, another reason for him to wear such a bright expression as he ushered you outside - the most impatient he’d been all day. It wasn’t until you saw the trailhead – unmarked save for a wooden post and break in the foliage – that you started to relax.
“Oh,” you mumbled, your relief audible. “I’m not really dressed for hiking, ‘lumi.”
“It isn’t far.” And then, taking your hand in his, “I can carry you.”
It sounded more like a matter-of-fact statement than an offer, but you shook your head, edging forward. He was right, in the end. It couldn’t have been more than half a mile of level ground, Illumi holding your hand all the while. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed outside on Illumi’s estate, but you spent so much time in the woods that surrounded his mansion and his mother’s gardens – it would’ve been impossible not to go numb to the absence of bird song, the treacherous slope of his mountain, how little sunlight managed to break through the dense canopy of tangled branches and leaves that seemed to lie a little closer to black than green. It was nice to be somewhere else, somewhere with humming insects and a gentleness to the landscape and just enough dappled sunlight to make you forget who you were with. You kept your head on a swivel, quietly eager to soak in as much of it as you could. If you were lucky, you’d actually get to see some life – a deer, or a wildcat, or—
Something caught in your throat, and your head lulled forward, eyes dropping to your feet. You stared at the ground for the rest of the walk.
Your destination was, similarly, storybook levels of idyllic. The forest thinned and fell away entirely, breaking into a lake that stretched on as far as the eye could see and glittered pink in the light of the setting sun. Stretched over the lake’s shore was a blanket piled with platters of chocolate-covered fruit, breads and cheese, bottles of wine with a matching pair of glasses for each option – everything you might’ve once drunkenly listed off to a friend while fantasizing about your perfect, fairytale date. You glanced around you, looking for the butlers who must’ve only just finished setting up, but Illumi was quick to call your attention back to him. You felt him let go of your hand, your body shift before you could process why you were moving, and then, you were no longer on the ground; one of Illumi’s arms hooked under your knees and the other behind your back, your side pulled against his chest in an effortless bridal carry. You made a passing attempt to squirm, but Illumi didn’t seem to mind – keeping you tucked against him as he made his way to the only unoccupied corner of the blanket and all-but dropped to the ground, leaving you splayed across his lap and safely caged within his arms. It was hard to tell if he was trying to be romantic in his own, blank, heartless sort of way, or if he’d simply decided you weren’t moving quickly enough. For your own sake, you leaned towards the former.
“It’s awful,” you muttered, and then, correcting yourself, “Not the picnic, I mean – that’s perfect. It’s just, I can never tell what you’re thinking.”
He seemed to consider that, for a moment. A chocolate-covered strawberry was plucked out of the nearest bowl and held to your lips, and to appease him, you bit into it. Your throat still felt too knotted for you to actually enjoy eating, but it was good to keep Illumi happy. “Most of the time, I think about you,” he admitted, any hint of shame absent from his voice. “It’s an issue. It doesn’t affect my work, but it’ll start to if left unchecked.”
He thought about you while cutting down innocent civilians. Great. “And you’re not going to fix that by drowning me in a lake, right?”
“No, I’m not.” Like your question, his answer was too sincere for comfort. The way his free hand toyed with the hem of your skirt did little to ease your nerves, either. “I’ve tried keeping an amount of distance between you and I, but that hasn’t yielded much progress either.”
If he’d ever tried to keep himself away from you, you hadn’t been able to tell. His hand slipped under your skirt properly, and you twisted, reaching for the neared wine bottle. “There’s so much food here, we should really—”
“It can wait.”
It was awful, just how even his voice was. For the first time, you were tempted to give him a reason to raise it.
You’d never resisted Illumi, but he’d never tried to—tried to do this, either. There’d always been an unspoken barrier when it came to sex – your resounding horror shadowed comfortable within his apparent disinterest. Now, though, he didn’t seem very disinterested, and your lingering terror was brushed neatly to the side as his fingers grazed over your thighs, your hip, before slipping underneath the thin, silken fabric. You wanted to thrash, to bolt, but you were suddenly unable to move; paralyzed save for the reflex to clench your legs shut and sink that much deeper into Illumi’s chest. The former was undone with only as much effort as it took him to ease your thighs apart with his knee, though, and the latter only seemed to bring a soft smile to his lips – just barely prominent enough to feel as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. If you’d been in your right mind, you might’ve thought to look for his butlers, to worry about passing hikers or concerned locals he wouldn’t think not to hurt, but Illumi had done his job well. It was impossible not to consider yourself wholly and entirely alone in the world, when you were with him.
He was less clinical than you would’ve expected. Illumi did most things with surgical precision, but touching you seemed to call for a more experimental skillset. His chin came to rest on your shoulder as his long fingers spread and explored underneath your panties, the tautness of the fabric ensuring that he always moved against you, rather than over or around. Undressing you never seemed to cross his mind; instead, his attention was trained on dragging the pad of his thumb over your clit, on using his ring and middle fingers to trace the slit of your cunt. You weren’t turned on – who could be, with their stoic kidnapper fondling them like a child learning to handle their first doll? – but your body and your mind were on two different tracks, one eager to make the best of a bad situation and the other too distraught to stop it. It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself dripping around him, your arousal adding a damp heat to your already claustrophobic point of connection. Illumi hummed. “You’re sensitive.”
You opened your mouth, but anything you might’ve said was drowned out by a hitched gasp as he thrust two digits inside of you with a wet click. “Tight, too,” he muttered, almost absentmindedly, immediately falling into a pattern of pumping and scissoring; spreading you open and pulling back only to fuck his fingers that much deeper. When he paused, it was only to curl against something particularly sensitive inside of you, to leave you shrinking that much further into his chest. “Is this uncomfortable?”
The practicality of the question caught you off-guard. You couldn’t call it considerate, but it was more than you’d expected, more than you ever would’ve hoped for. Unable to speak, you nodded furiously, and Illumi clicked his tongue. “You’ll be alright,” And then, slightly softer, “It couldn’t be any worse than what I had to deal with, waiting for you.”
There was no bitterness, no remorse, no pity; just Illumi’s cold rationality and the feeling of his palm grinding into your clit. The only warmth you could feel was the ghost of his breath on the side of your throat, the dip of your shoulder – not quite panting, but a world apart from his usual absence of expression. You tried to steel yourself, to think about anything aside from Illumi’s presence where it draped across you like a funeral shroud, but it’d been months since the last time you so much as thought about touching yourself, and for all his apathy, you could feel heat pooling in your core and recognize that your attempts to stave off the inevitable were only prolonging the insufferable. Still, it would’ve been impossible not to try and choke back your whimpers as that heat brewed and solidified into something more tense, something more breakable; as Illumi’s cheek pressed into the curve of your neck and his fingers curled against something soft and unprotected inside of you. Your climax was drawn out of you slowly, painfully, with a ragged whine in place of a moan. You kept your face buried in Illumi’s chest, your hands balled around the bodice of your dress. It felt like an eternity passed before it was over, before Illumi’s hand drew back, but no relief accompanied the distance.
You couldn’t even bring yourself to hate Illumi for it, not really. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel much of anything. The only thing you could think, as hard as you tried not to think at all, was that you missed your dead cat.
It was pathetic, honestly. A sob tore past your lips as he pulled you away from his chest and lowered you onto your back, tears burning twin tracks down your face. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d made you cry, and this shouldn’t have been your tipping point – not Ghost, not your awful shoebox apartment, not the fact that you could hear fabric tearing as he pulled your dress apart, too impatient to so much as consider a less destructive solution. You were in hysterics by the time he glanced up, the faintest possible frown coaxing the corners of his lips downward. “You’re crying.” And then, when your only response was another jagged cry, “Why?”
You opened your mouth, but only managed to force out another incoherent sob. Illumi softened, leaning over you, his dark hair forming a curtain that seemed to replace the rest of the world with unending void. Eventually, you managed to scrap up the only thing you could, even if it wasn’t what you really meant. “I—I want to go home, Illumi.”
He cocked his head to the side, staring down at you with a sort of blank focus. A moment passed, then another, before his expression brightened. “Oh.”
He leaned down, and you felt his lips brush over your forehead. His smile bit into your skin like a blade.
“We will, love.” He pulled back. You heard fabric shift, felt something hot and terrible slot against your cunt. “Just not yet.”
You moved to respond, but gave up quickly. His mouth crashed into yours as he thrust into you and your blood ran cold.
~
Later on, in the dark, things became bearable again. Illumi was cruel, psychotic, delusional, but he was dutiful, too, and with the most beautiful dress you’d ever seen reduced to scraps, he wrapped you in his jacket and gathered you in his arms. The picnic was untouched, the breath-taking view painted over by night. None of it mattered, of course. You were too exhausted to keep your eyes open, and a bottomless pit occupied the space your stomach used to. You wouldn’t mind going the rest of your life without taking anything of the filthy, unfeeling outside world inside of you ever again, but you knew better than to swear off eating because of Illumi. Or, at least, you hoped you’d know better in the morning.
You were only half-conscious of him pulling you against his chest and starting back into the forest, following the same path you had an eternity ago. It was a stupid question, but you found yourself asking anyway, your voice low and hoarse. “Are we… Are we going somewhere?”
“Of course.” Illumi bowed his head, kissing the top of yours. “We’re going home.”
He didn’t know he was lying, but he was. He might’ve been, but you weren’t.
Slowly and with no small amount of effort, you managed to nod, slumping against his chest. No sooner had you went slack in his arms than the final tether to consciousness thinned and fell away, leaving you to be consumed by the darkness.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter imagines#yandere hxh#hxh x reader#hxh imagines#yandere illumi#illumi x reader#yandere illumi zoldyck#illumi zoldyck x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Brutal Ghost, a man built for battle. Cold, detached, unemotional Ghost, scaring every new recruit off with a single glare. Moody, brooding Ghost who doesn’t entertain small talk that doesn’t interest him. A sergeant adopted a puppy? Uninteresting. Someone is going for tea with their grandmother? Don’t care. Ghost who Price silently worries about, all the time.
But,
Simon Riley who crashes into bed with you, his large, cold hands coming under your shirt to steal your warmth away. His chest vibrating with a chuckle as you gasp, failing to squirm away from his cold touch before he pulls you closer to him.
Simon Riley who wakes up before you, his feet slapping against the pavement in the light morning sun, running just a little faster than during his mandated drills, to get home to you just a little quicker.
Simon Riley who wakes you up with a steaming cup of your morning brew, settling down by your side, his hand sweeping your hair away from your face to gaze at you. Kisses peppered all over your face, a soft smile growing as he watches your nose scrunch up from the interruption of sleep.
Simon Riley who puts your favourite mugs on the highest shelf, the one you can’t reach, just so you can ask for his help. “There ya’ go shorty,” a wry smile on his face as you grumble at his quip.
Simon Riley who just HAS to have a hand on you at all time. His digits engulfing yours when you walk around shops together. A soft hand resting on your lower back as you wash dishes. He grasps your hip, his face nesting in the crook of your neck as you both rest on the sofa after a long day of doing nothing.
Simon Riley who seldom uses your name, a grumble of, “darlin’”, or “angel”, maybe even a, “my love” bouncing off the walls of your shared space.
Simon Riley who wanders local markets in his free time, spotting something sparkly that is way too expensive, only to walk home with a small bag in his hand containing the pretty gift for his pretty girl.
Simon Riley who is convinced the dryer is eating his shirts and hoodies, only to spot you curled up on the couch engulfed by the offending ‘missing’ article.
Simon Riley who sends you pictures of fluffy little cats who saunter up to him on his morning runs, seemingly unintimidated at his gargantuan size, just to imagine the smile and giggle you let out when you see them.
Simon Riley who was made for unwavering devotion to you.
#cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#ghost cod#cod x reader#simon riley headcanons#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#ghost headcanons#ghost fanfiction#simon riley fluff#ghost fluff
7K notes
·
View notes
Text

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you were accommodated in such a shabby hotel, the last thing you needed was a power outage. and upon learning about one of your colleagues' fear of the dark, you can't bring yourself to not help him
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x newbaumember!femalereader, spencer is afraid of the dark and the reader comforts him, they comfort each other tbh, elle&morgan my fav duo, glasses reid obvi.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.7k
𝐚/𝐧: these are my official apologies for all the recent stories 🫶🏼 i wanted it to be so much shorter but i just love writing conversations between characters so that's how it turned out. @mggslover i'm so sorry for not adding spencer falling off the bed but i didn't want to ruin that subtle ending :(( maybe next time
"Please, I’m begging you, I’m really begging you—begging in the name of a god I don’t even believe in. Tell me we’ve got the wrong address," Morgan said, squeezing his eyes shut the moment you all crossed the threshold of the motel where you'd been assigned to stay while working on the case in another state.
You noticed Elle’s expression falter as well. From the outside, the place hadn’t looked that bad. Well, perhaps it only seemed that way because the street it was on was so dark you couldn’t make out much of anything. Midnight must have been approaching; the first day of the investigation was officially over.
“We didn’t get it wrong,” Reid declared, stepping inside as the last of you, quickly scanning the interior. “I memorized it perfectly. Besides, there aren’t any other accommodations in the area, so this has to be it.”
“Do you remember that one case,” Elle started, “where the unsub killed women in hotel rooms and decorated the interiors with their intestines?”
You glanced at her, curious—or as curious as you could be under the circumstances. You’d only joined the team fairly recently; this was your third or fourth case at most, and none of them had been quite that… gruesome. Of course, you were well aware cases like that happened. It was only a matter of time before one came your way. Unfortunately.
“This motel totally looks like the kind of place where something like that happens on a daily basis,” Elle continued. “My advice? Don’t look under the beds tonight. Or in the closets, if there even are any.”
“I just hope there’s hot water,” Derek sighed, his voice carrying a tone of resignation. “We once ended up in a place that didn’t have any. I almost handed in my resignation.”
“You deal with gruesome murders every day, but no hot water is too much for you, Princess?” you raised an eyebrow, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye as you made your way toward the reception desk to pick up your room keys. The motel’s walls were yellow—not the cheerful sunflower or sunny kind of yellow, but more like dried-up cat pee yellow.
“He’s got a point, though,” Elle chimed in, taking the key from an elderly woman at the reception desk. “Think about it. You come back after a long, grueling day, from dawn to midnight, just like today. You’re exhausted, barely standing, and you can’t even take a hot shower.”
Morgan pointed at her and nodded in agreement. You shrugged.
“Cold isn’t that bad,” you muttered. Honestly, you hadn’t expected anything luxurious from the place you’d been sent to. It was just a few days, after all.
“Oh, are you one of those people practicing that millionaire morning routine?” Derek teased. “You know—waking up at three, cold shower, steak for breakfast, daily planning, self-help book…”
I just grew up poor, you thought to yourself, but aloud you only let out a short laugh.
“I’d kill to have time to read a book before work. Any book. Not to be yanked out of bed by Hotch at five, like today, and scrambling to get out the door.”
Elle and Morgan exchanged a very brief look, almost secretive. You narrowed your eyes, suspicion suddenly welling up inside you. Before you could ask about it, someone else spoke up.
“He called me at half past six,” Reid said, tilting his head in mild confusion.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the others silencing him with a look.
“Hey, what’s going on?” you stopped in your tracks, demanding an explanation. “He called me half an hour earlier than the rest of you?”
“You live farther away.”
“We’re practically neighbors, Elle Greenaway.”
“I’m about to drop,” Derek suddenly interjected with theatrical exhaustion. A change of subject. A not-so-subtle change of subject. “If I don’t lie down soon, I’ll fall asleep standing up. See you all tomorrow, folks.”
“You’re absolutely right—sleep well.”
With that, he and Elle headed up the stairs to the third floor, where they’d been assigned rooms. You and, as it turned out, Reid were staying on the second floor.
You turned to him slowly, arms crossed over your chest.
You didn’t even need to say anything—your stern gaze alone made it clear you were waiting for an explanation. Reid looked like he was about to throw his hands up in a defensive gesture, clearly regretting that he’d brought up the topic at all.
“Okay,” he sighed nervously. “What I’m about to say is not meant to offend you in any way, not even the slightest…”
“Offend?” you repeated, furrowing your brow. “Jesus Christ, Reid, don’t look at me like that—I’m not about to punch you in the face…”
“It’s just…” he began, a little calmer now. “All of us, including Hotch, I assume, are aware of the fact that, occasionally—just sometimes—you have a slight tendency to…run a bit late to work.”
He looked at you, and a telling silence fell between you.
"Yesterday, you were fourteen and a half minutes late."
"Fifteen minutes doesn't count as being late. And have you heard of a grace period? It's allowed to arrive within that time frame, without any consequences."
"Fine. What about two days ago, twenty-one minutes and seventeen..."
"Metro malfunction. I had no control over that."
"And six days ago, on Tuesday? Twenty-four minutes and..."
"I don’t remember such a situation, because, Mr. Big Brain, not all of us have such a memory. But I assume there was a reason..."
"Alright, fine," Reid interrupted you calmly. "I’m not saying there wasn’t a reason. But still... it happens quite often, and that's a fact. So it’s no surprise that Hotch, when the situation especially calls for it, prefers to call you a little earlier than the rest. Just out of caution."
You sighed, no longer able to argue about it. Maybe he was right; you did sometimes lose track of time in the mornings or fail to wake up to the sound of your alarm, closing your eyes for an extra five minutes... which resulted in small delays. You had never been directly reprimanded for it, so you were unaware that it had become such a big issue. Slightly embarrassed, you pressed your lips together.
"As usual, I guess you're right. And by the way, I’m heading to my room. I had thirty minutes less sleep than all of you, I’m exhausted," you said in a lighter, joking tone. A brief smile crossed Reid’s face. "Good night, wise guy.”
"Good night. And don’t look under the bed."
"Believe me, I wasn’t planning on it!"
With those words, you both disappeared into rooms directly opposite each other. The sounds of doors closing synchronized. You started your usual evening routine, placing your suitcase in the corner of the room. It was really small, narrow, and rectangular. The walls had that same awful color, the light was too bright, causing a headache. So you decided to just turn on the night lamp on the shabby nightstand next to the single bed.
It turned out that the only bathroom was in the hallway. You almost cried; you didn't want to take all your things with you and then come back with them. You remembered that you'd taken a proper shower that morning, so maybe a repeat wasn’t absolutely necessary. You were too sleepy for it, so you just set the alarm for fifteen minutes earlier to do it in the morning. After changing into comfortable clothes, you immediately lay down on the bed. Following Elle’s advice, and then Reid’s too, you didn’t check what might be hiding under it.
You weren’t hiding it, you were a terrible sleeper. Falling asleep in new places usually wasn’t a problem for you, even if it was a place that looked like a dive where someone could stab you in your sleep. But that night, something was bothering you. After giving it some thought, you realized it was Reid’s words.
Of course, it wasn’t that you held it against him. He was just stating facts; he had no intention of offending you, as he assured. And you didn’t even feel offended. More like unpleasantly confronted with a certain fact. You had only been part of the BAU for a short time. Well, just a week ago Derek stopped calling you the new girl. Although on the outside, you came across as very confident, on the inside, you were preoccupied with the team’s opinion of you and what they might think about you. Mainly because they were all older and more experienced.
You were especially worried about the fact that your tardiness and chaos had drawn the boss’s attention. Being on good terms with your superior was incredibly important, in case something ever happened, in case you made a more serious mistake…those small things could influence how the rest of your career would unfold, and the decisions made about you.
But above all, you wanted everyone to like you. Simply like you. So you wouldn’t walk around every day with your heart in your throat, praying for the day to end, constantly overwhelmed by a sense of misfit and loneliness.
You turned to your side, not sure how long you had been lying there, thinking. Suddenly, you realized you had to pee.
With great reluctance and sleepiness, you reached for the bedside lamp to turn it on and go to the bathroom. However, when you tugged at the cord, it... didn’t turn on. The room remained shrouded in darkness. You tried once more, then blindly made your way to the light switch in the room. You pressed it, and nothing.
What was going on, a power outage?
You shook your head in confusion. Whatever was going on, it didn’t change the fact that you had to go to the bathroom. You remembered the flashlight in your jacket pocket, and in the darkness, it took you a while to find it. When you finally had it in your hand, you felt ready to complete the mission. To pee, that is.
The moment you stepped out into the hallway, a light source flared up right before your eyes. You let out a muffled exclamation, partly from surprise, partly from being almost blinded.
“Damn, sorry…” Reid hissed, equally confused, turning his flashlight downward, away from your face.
You rubbed your eyelids, turning off your flashlight. Two light sources were unnecessary.
“Is there no power for you too?” you asked.
Reid nodded. It was only then that you really looked at him—he was wearing very loose pajama pants and...
“Cute,” you clicked your tongue, pointing at his white sweater with a bear wearing glasses. He had them too, worn very low on his nose. He must have put them on absentmindedly, in the dark, right after getting out of bed.
“I got it from Penelope for my birthday,” he said in a tone as if he were giving a statement. His hand briefly touched the fabric, right at the center of the brown bear’s face. “It’s really comfortable and soft. Perfect for sleeping...Anyway, I was heading to the reception to find out what the issue is and whether anything can be done about it. You too?”
"No, I just really need to pee. Do you really want to go there at this hour?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "I mean, outages happen, and they'll have to fix it, but it's the middle of the night. We don't really need the lights right now, and if you want to go to the bathroom, you have a flashlight, as I can see."
You kept your gaze on him, realizing that since he noticed the lack of light, he must have been either heading somewhere himself or keeping the light on. Or maybe he had been sleeping with the light on. He did seem a bit tense. One of his hands was still resting on the half-open door, nervously gripping it. The other was pressed tightly to his body, his chest rising in an odd rhythm. Not a quickened pace, like with a panic attack, but more unnatural, like he was trying to control it.
"Are you afraid of the dark?" the question slipped out of you directly. After a moment, you realized it might have been a little too blunt. You had asked it carelessly, suspecting there might be another reason behind his behavior. For some reason, fear of the dark didn’t seem to fit his rational character.
Reid quickly shook his head, firmly denying it.
"No. No, of course not. I was just... reading when the light went out."
Oh, you didn’t even need to be a profiler to see right away that he was lying. You crossed your arms, a little amused by how stubbornly he was denying it.
"You were reading? At this hour? When we’re back to the investigation first thing tomorrow morning?"
He shrugged, shaking his head again.
"I couldn’t sleep."
You sighed. In the end, neither his fear nor his shame were your concern, so you didn’t see the point in interrogating him any further. You signaled that you were dropping the subject, and some expression passed across his face. Gratitude. Gratitude for not pushing the issue or mocking him. You felt a bit offended that he had even thought you might do that.
“If you still plan on going to the reception, wait for me, I’ll go with you. I just need to quickly stop by the bathroom.”
Reid opened his mouth, clearly surprised by your suggestion.
“Well, what?” you replied with a shrug. “I can’t let something eat you on the way. A demonic hand emerging from the darkness…”
“Very funny,” he commented, rolling his eyes. However, the corner of his mouth twitched, and his breathing seemed calmer.
“…The ghost of Richard Ramirez haunting the walls of this hotel. Or some other bloodthirsty maniac.“
"Didn't you really have to pee badly?"
"The team wouldn’t recover from losing you, Reid!" You threw that line over your shoulder as you walked toward the bathroom.
Of course, there was no light there either, so you had to use your flashlight. He was waiting for you, and together, in silence, you headed down the stairs toward the reception. Given how small the motel was, it wasn’t open 24/7. You had to wait a while before someone came to assist you.
“That happens sometimes,” the employee shrugged. “We’re not sure where the problem is exactly, but someone’s supposed to come check it out tomorrow…”
“Can’t anything be done about it now?” Reid asked, a trace of frustration in his voice that he was trying to mask—especially when he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “Maybe it’s just a simple overload? Where are the fuse boxes…?”
“Reid,” you said gently, placing a hand on his elbow to draw his full attention. He turned his head toward you, surprised by the tone of your voice. You gave the employee a discreet signal that you didn’t have any further questions and he could leave.
“You’re not fixing the electricity in some rundown motel. That would just be… ridiculous.”
“I’m not talking about fixing it,” he clarified quickly, though it was clear he hadn’t let go of the idea. “But in most cases, it’s just a simple short circuit. I could just take a look—”
“—Or you could just sleep in my room.”
The words left your mouth, surprising not only him but also yourself. Yet, it wasn’t as though you regretted them or wanted to take back the offer. On the contrary, the moment you said it out loud, it felt even more fitting. When you were a little kid—like most children, probably—you’d also been afraid of the dark, and running to someone else’s room always helped. Curling up beside someone, just knowing someone was there, made all the difference.
You watched his reaction, the way he shook his head slightly from side to side, a small frown creasing his forehead.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Not at all. Come on.” You grabbed him by the wrist—the hand not holding the flashlight—and pulled him along. He moved hesitantly, but he seemed too caught off guard to plant his feet and stay put.
He stopped only when you reached the door to your room, pulling his hand free from your grasp.
"How do you even imagine this working? There's... there's only one bed in there."
"If that bothers you, grab the mattress and some bedding from your room. You’ll hardly notice the difference—those beds are unbearably uncomfortable anyway."
He lowered the flashlight slightly, letting the surrounding darkness of the hallway creep over his face. It was barely visible now, but the hesitation etched on it was unmistakable. Standing across from him, you held his gaze without saying a word, silently reinforcing the fact that you weren’t joking.
The thought of him struggling to fall asleep for the rest of the night and then suffering through another day made you feel genuinely sorry for him. Besides, even though you hadn’t known each other long, you already considered him a sort of friend. If there was anything you could do to help, you wanted to do it.
"It's no big deal, Spencer," you reassured him one last time, hoping the words would finally sink in. "Really. And if you want... we don't ever have to talk about this again. Tomorrow, or ever."
His chest rose as he drew in a deep breath.
"Th-thank you," he said at last, cautiously, as though he'd packed so many thoughts into the single word that saying it out loud was an effort.
You smiled gently and understandingly. Before stepping into the room, you briefly placed a hand on his arm.
"Oh God, that sweater really is soft..."
He let out a short laugh, perhaps releasing a bit of the embarrassment he’d been holding back. You both disappeared into your respective rooms, and you lay down in bed, waiting for him to show up. Well, the moment dragged on a little too long.
You were almost certain he’d only agreed to your suggestion to get you off his back and had no intention of actually following through. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you debated whether to go to his room and drag him over or just let it go. They say you shouldn’t force help on others. Maybe there was some truth to that.
Shortly after that thought, your door creaked open slowly. You heard it but couldn’t see much—the room was too dark, and he wasn’t using his flashlight. Perhaps he assumed you were already asleep and didn’t want to risk waking you.
Either way, he moved around your bed to lay down a pillow and blanket on the floor, skipping the effort of hauling over an entire mattress.
"Your back is going to hurt," you remarked softly, your voice adjusting to the rhythm of the night, blending with the surrounding darkness.
You lay on your side, facing the spot where he had set up his makeshift bed. All you could see was the outline of his figure, his hands clasped loosely over his stomach, head resting on the pillow. You even caught the slight shrug of his shoulders in response to your comment.
"Actually, sleeping on the floor can have health benefits. It helps maintain a neutral spine position," he replied.
“Seriously?” you scoffed. “Do you really have to come up with a counterargument for everything I say?”
“Such a curse of mine. If you don’t like it, well, you invited me here.”
“Annoying bastard. I guess it’s too late to kick you out?” you wondered aloud, of course, rhetorically. But you quickly added, worried that he might take it seriously, “Sleep well. You and your spine.”
An amused sigh escaped him.
“You… and your spine too.”
Well, you guessed that's enough of the chit-chat. You felt a bit disappointed, but you had brought him here for a reason. To let him sleep, not to entertain you with conversation. To your surprise, you didn’t feel sleepy, even though you had struggled with it earlier. You had been thinking about... hard to even pinpoint what, there were a few things. The little worries typical of the night, suddenly growing to some huge proportions.
You were still lying in the same position, some time had passed. Your cheek was almost touching the edge of the bed, on the same side where Reid slept. Well, actually, he wasn’t sleeping. You could see a faint, barely noticeable gleam of his open eyes. They were cast downward, trying not to stare into the empty blackness above his head.
“Have you always been afraid of the dark?” you decided to ask, with no sarcasm.
“I’m not afraid,” he replied, though he could always pretend to be asleep. But the answer came out automatically.
“Alright, brave guy.” You didn’t even scoff, you just said it calmly and accepting. Maybe later he’ll tell you, when he stops being so embarrassed about it. “So, I guess you came here to get to know me better. And you know, I think you’ve got the chance. Could you... could you tell me something? Just honestly?”
"Me?" he asked, surprised, even sitting up slightly. "I mean... sure. But what?"
You suddenly sighed, regretting even bringing up the topic. God, that was so stupid...
"Just remember, honestly. Do you think the rest of the team likes me?"
Reid was silent, a strange feeling gathered in your stomach. Instead of answering negatively, he propped himself up on both elbows, and you saw a slight movement of his head. A nod.
"Are you asking this completely seriously?"
You shrugged, not sure if he noticed, so you confirmed out loud in a slightly hoarse voice. And then, to your absolute surprise, he just laughed.
"I don’t get it," he confessed after a short moment during which you stared in silence at his silhouette. "How... how could you think it could be any different? You’re always joking with Derek and Elle, and... we get along well too, I hope..."
"You’re right. But... but that’s not what I meant, I just... ugh, seriously, I can’t explain it. Fine, you know what, never mind."
You turned onto your back, as if that would completely sever the conversation. The one you’d stupidly started. You hoped he wouldn’t mention it to anyone. Another stupid thought, after all, he wasn’t like that.
Silence again, broken only by breaths. A new sound joined them, a slight rustle of the sheets. When Reid spoke again, his voice sounded somehow higher, and you were sure he was sitting on the floor as he said it.
"It might be a little surprising, but when I was a kid, I wasn't afraid of the dark," he began, completely changing the tone of his voice. He wasn't surprised like before; it was lower, gentler, despite the topic he was addressing. "I mean, I wasn't afraid of it more than any other kid my age. That... that serious fear, the real fear, started later. I don't want to say it was when I started working for the BAU because that wouldn't be entirely true. But it was around the time I started taking everything seriously. Seeing it with my own eyes, every day."
You didn't even realize when you had turned back onto your side, just to look at him, listening to his words.
"Do you have nightmares?" you asked.
"Sometimes. Actually..." he sighed, swallowing. "All of it, the fear and the nightmares, it's like they don't exist when I'm in a place I know. A place I trust. I can sleep just fine with the lights off in my apartment, the same in a jet. Everything starts in places like this. “
There was silence from your side, and you felt a bit… touched that he decided to tell you this. No beating around the bush, no lying, and, most importantly, no overwhelming embarrassment. It was a normal topic after all; everyone has their fears.
"And you?"
"What about me?"
"Do you have nightmares?"
In the first few days after starting the job, you did. Then they stopped. That’s just how things go, you suppose.
"Not anymore," you admitted, letting out a small laugh. "But that doesn’t mean I sleep well. Now I just worry at night."
"About whether the team likes you?"
"Okay, I know it sounds childish, but it’s really been bothering me lately. They might… they might seem to like me, but deep down, they might not think that highly of me. I… I'm new, not that experienced, I’m always late, and I don’t think I’m bringing anything new to the table..."
"Of course, you’re bringing something," he interrupted you. You hadn’t noticed when, but you were both sitting up now. Your voices weren’t sleepy whispers anymore, you were having a real conversation. "Each of us brings something different, something characteristic of ourselves. That's how it works in a team. That’s why you’re here. Without you… okay, you might not know this, but since you’ve been here, these last four cases have gone much more smoothly."
"Do you really think so?"
"Well, you asked me to be honest. Completely honest."
You've always had a bit of imposter syndrome, doubting your abilities, and approaching others' positive comments about you or your achievements with skepticism.
Something in the way he spoke, his quick words, his engagement in them... made you believe him, somehow.
"Reid," you began, surprised to find that there was less weight in your chest, in your body. "I know, I just know, that you'll refuse, but still, I'll ask. Do you want to lie down with me?"
You didn't even know what exactly prompted the question. Caring about your back, you could answer. But was that really all it was?
For a moment, he was silent, thinking you were joking, but when it dawned on him that you weren't, he scoffed.
"Well, you were right, I'll refuse..."
"Sorry, but I doubt you'll fall asleep any other way. I was watching you, as creepy as that sounds. You were lying there with your eyes open, you were scared."
"I'm an adult man who's afraid of the dark. That's pathetic on its own, without being tucked to sleep by a coworker."
"I never mentioned anything about tucking you in."
He hesitated, embarrassed.
"You took the least important part of my statement..."
"I took what I wanted. The rest is nonsense. Your age doesn't determine what you can or can't be afraid of. I'm a grown woman, and I'm afraid my colleagues don't like me. Which sounds more pathetic, huh? Fear of the dark or that?"
“I think it’s a point we could argue about for hours.”
“Which we don’t have. It’s late, we should go to sleep. Quick question, are you lying down with me, or are you fooling yourself into thinking you’ll fall asleep without it?”
A heavy, resigned sigh escaped him. Without adding anything else to his words, you turned onto your side, your back to him. You heard the rustling of the sheets, and for a moment, you froze, surprised. But no, he hadn’t joined you.
You weren’t sure how you felt. Disappointed seemed like too strong a word. It wasn’t as though he had refused some incredibly important request of yours. It was just… perhaps the best explanation would be that, once you had convinced him to sleep in the same room for the sake of helping him, you wanted him to take something comforting from that night. You wanted it to be one of those good nights, like the ones he had in his apartment or in the jet, the ones he had mentioned. Not one of the others, filled with fear.
But then, the mattress beside you dipped, as someone else settled onto it.
You turned to the other side, and suddenly your faces were right across from each other. Reid swallowed, almost nervously. He seemed to be adjusting to the situation, to the sudden closeness, the small space you shared. You propped your hand under your head, observing him discreetly. It hit you that he always had a bit of an issue with contact with others. A doubt crossed your mind: had you made him uncomfortable?
Minutes passed, though, and his body seemed to sink more comfortably into the bed. His arms were no longer stiff, his hands resting freely, no longer clasped tightly across his chest. You could also hear his breath, and the more peaceful it became, the calmer you felt too.
And even though no words seemed necessary anymore, he decided to speak once again.
"Thank you."
taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @kakamixo @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony
@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella
#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spence reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid fanfic#matilda's recs#spencer reid x oc#criminal mind#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid fluff
952 notes
·
View notes
Text
Couples Shit with Simon Riley, Part 2:
Thinking Simon is asleep when he isn't. Or so he says. Case in point: Simon in all his cattiness made you his pillow. Your nails were working miracles scratching along his scalp which had him dozing off and lightly snoring. Or so you thought. You heard him grumble, "Why'd you stop, luvie?" when you moved your hand. He'll deny he was asleep, too, like the peepaw that he is.
To piggyback off the first point, Simon will sometimes quietly grab your hand and put it back on his head if you stop scratching his scalp. If you stop a second time, he will have experienced a betrayal man and cat were never supposed to know, and it's Affection Denied™ for the rest of the day lmao.
Texting each other when you're in two separate rooms because you don't feel like talking out loud. Sometimes, you'll text him some crazy shit that'll warrant him leaving the room he was in to silently judge you.
Absolutely loving to watch him shave in the morning because Simon is so sexy when he's concentrating, eyebrows furrowed, and those brown eyes staring intensely in the mirror.
You and Simon shit-talking each other in bed because you'll complain about being hot with the covers and cuddle pile you two have going on but never really doing anything to change it. You two actually can't get a good night's sleep without being up under the other.
Simon banning you from watching horror films because, for the hundredth bloody time, he didn't hear shit, love. He actually did and it was the neighbors but he can't be arsed to get out of bed.
Speaking of neighbors, it's you and Simon lying in bed, listening to the neighbors make sex and when it's done, Simon goes, "Mm. A new record," and he sounds so unimpressed which causes you to guffaw. Oh my fucking god—
Getting in the dog house with Simon because when your hands are cold, you stick them down in his pants to rest on his thighs because it's hilarious to see him jump and that's what he gets for not turning the heat up. Simon counterargues that he did turn it up. Three degrees.
Introducing Simon to the wonders of Spa Day at home because his skin needs some TLC. Simon looking like someone's stressed auntie with a ciggie dangling from his lips, wearing a really comfortable bathrobe you got him, and eye masks on.
You two treating it like the end of the world whenever one of y'all gets sick (Simon to a lesser extent) because how in the hell will you get your daily dose of affection?
Going all out and having a whole-ass reveal party for your newest edition to the family, Pup. You gave the boys shirts to wear in celebration. You wore Dad, Simon wore... Mom????, Kyle got Uncle, Soap got... Big Brother??? and Price got... Grandfather. Grand. Father. "Congrats, Cap'n." "Shut up."
Pranking Simon by calling him some random guy's name just to see his reaction. Simon stops what he's doing, judges you in Ghost, and goes, "Who the fuck is Anthony?" After that, it's on sight for Anthony. Whoever the fuck that is. Simon gets you back, though, and he's all, "Ask Anthony" "Oh? You love Anthony, too?" "Sorry sweetheart, Simon is taken. Better go to Anthony." Real funny, asshole.
Simon thinking you're about to go down on him. Not the way he thinks, though. You've situated yourself between his thighs, put his legs on your shoulders, and lower your head to... blow raspberries in his tummy. Like... whole-ass tunes. The disappointment on his face is immeasurable. But then you have him chuckling because you're fuckin' adorable looking up at him like that and your raspberries are ticklish.
#2queued4u.#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern lovefare.#simon ghost riley#ghost call of duty#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#x plus size reader#x poc reader#x black reader#task force 141
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi, Can I request short fic with Lads boys (or only Zayne if you want ). They turned into cats for one day, and MC took care of them.
It would also be interesting to know what breed and color they would be, how they hinted that it was them, etc.
and then in the morning they turned back!
(^˵◕ω◕˵^)
Love ya
When They Turn Into Cats- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: silly a/n: hi anonnie! sorry this took so long to make but this was so cute and fun to write ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ ! i love love cats but i don't own one yet so i'm soso sorry to any of the cat owners out there if i miswrote what it's like ! i hope you like and enjoy it! i love ya too anonnie have a good day/ night! ^•ﻌ•^ฅ♡ edit: heres the version of where you turn into a cat! When You Turn Into A Cat any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
Xavier /ᐠ˵- ᴗ -˵マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 :
You begin to stir from your sleep, reaching out for your lover only to find the space beside you cold and empty. Your eyes flutter open to see a fluffy ragdoll cat with white and light brown fur. The cat curled up peacefully beside you, unaware of the turmoil unfolding around it. Panic and confusion surged through you as you sat up abruptly.
Where was Xavier? Did he bring this cat home with him? Did this cat wander through an open window?
Your mind raced with questions as you quickly scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of him but he was nowhere to be found. You moved through the house, calling out his name and looked in every room, only to return to your bedroom with no sign of him. The cat remained undisturbed on the bed. In a last attempt, you grabbed your phone to text Xavier, a notification chimed from his phone- right beside his bedside.
As you stand there, taking in the sight of the cat, it begins to stir. It stretches its fluffy paws kneading the bed spread. A soft meow escapes its mouth and tilts its head in confusion. It lets out another meow, as if it’s trying to speak but only produces feline sounds. The cat looked down at its paws, its eyes wide with confusion. With a clumsy roll, it flopped onto its back, its tiny belly exposed in full display. The realization to Xavier of his feline form seemed to down on him and let out a resigned meow.
Determined to you show, he darts around your home trying to show you that this cat is in fact him, your lover. He runs to the kitchen, pawing at his favorite snacks and when you're still confused until he runs to his sword. He paws at the star keychain on the sword's hilt, hoping you would get the idea.
The connection clicks in your mind as you watch the cat meow again, although it’s not just any random cat, it was Xavier. You sink to the floor, settling yourself at Xavier’s cat level as he crawls into your lap and curls comfortably as if he’s always belonged there.
You don’t know how Xavier turned into a cat or how to reverse it so the best you could do for now was to take care of him, hoping that he’ll be okay when he randomly turns back into a human. When you tried to leave the house to get him cat food, he persistently cried making it impossible for you to leave him behind.
In this cat form, Xavier’s behavior was oddly just like his human self. He was calm and gentle and found often sleeping contentedly on your lap or nestled close by. The warmth of his tiny and fluffy body was a comforting presence and his soft purring was a soothing background in your home. He also seems to really love it when you scratch behind his ears.
Anytime you laid down, he would knead any parts of your body. Anytime you ate something, he would paw at your food or try to steal a bite. And anytime you didn't let him have a bite, he'll stare at you with sad cat eyes. He would even follow you around even to the bathroom to do whatever business you had in there. It felt as if he was just guarding you in his cat form- even if he fell asleep again.
When night time falls, he curls up beside you, something Xavier would always do during your night routines. You reach out, your fingers gently brushing through his fur, and Xavier response with a content sleepy "meow", pressing his head against yours.
When you woke up, you felt a warm presence beside you. Blinking sleepily, your eyes widened in surprise to find Xavier back into human form, still curled up beside you. His hair tousled and his face relaxed as he sleeps peacefully. With a gentle smile, you kiss the top of his head and pull him closer, drifting back to sleep together. All your worries melt away and was replaced by the comforting presence of your lover.
Zayne /ᐠ - ˕ -マ :
You were supposed to meet Zayne an hour ago for a date after his shift, but despite your repeated calls and texts, he never responded. Concerned, you decided to check on him at the hospital. As you navigate the familiar hallways, you make your way to his office. When you opened the door, you were surprised to find no sign of Zayne- only a gray Scottish Fold cat curled up on his desk, peacefully asleep on top of a messy stack of papers.
You called out his name, but the only response was the cat’s slow stretch as it blinked awake. The cat rubs its eyes with its paws, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how cute it looked with Zayne’ glasses perched on its nose.
The cat’s eyes widened in confusion as it glanced down at its feline form. It meows softly, then looks up at you with an almost desperate expression. It paws at you, as if it were trying to get your attention but you mistook this as a request for affection and scratched the back of its head. The cat seemed to enjoy the attention for a moment, then abruptly shook your hand away and started pawing at the glasses.
Confused, you picked up their glasses and the cat seemed to become even more agitated. It started patting at the name tag on Zayne’s desks with urgency. Realization has finally hit you and you looked back at the cat and the name. The cat let out a resigned meow, and you laughed softly as you tried to process this strange situation.
You settle into his office chair, and he curls up o your lap, resting his head against your chest as if surrendering to the situation. Gently, you scratch the back of his head, offering a soothing reassurance that you'll find a way to restore him to his human form.
Before you leave, you tidy up his desk so it is ready for his return one day. You carefully carry him through the familiar hospital hallways. As you pass by Greyson, who reaches out to pet what he thinks is just a stray cat, Zayne swats his hand away, not in the mood for affection from others, only you.
Once you get him back home, you opt for cat food, concerned that giving him his favorite human food or treats might upset his stomach in this new feline form. You couldn’t tell but he would be really sad watching you eat your shared favorite food and treats without him. He would just stare at you as you eat it all.
Being a cat does not stop him from being a doctor to you. He'll gently headbutt you or paw you if you indulge in too much junk food, concerned about your health and your disregard for his medical advice.
You offer a stick and string for play and at first he seemed indifferent about it but a few minutes later he was swatting and pouncing with enthusiasm. You were definitely gong to tease him about this later.
He was a very observant cat. He doesn't do much other than explore around new corners areas of your house he hasn't seen before due to his smaller form. Other than that he takes keen interest in watching you go about your day as he sits on your windowsill.
He loves it when you pet him and he purrs contentedly in response. He's read somewhere that cats purr as a form of healing, and he hopes that maybe just maybe that it'll heal your heart. As your stroke his fur, hell give you slow, deliberate blinks. It's his cat version of saying I love you.
As you prepare for bed, he follows you to the bathroom, quietly overserving you as you brush your teeth and go through the rest of your nightly routine. When you make a cozy spot for him on the bed, he disregards it and instead curls up right beside you. As you both settle into bed, you run your fingers gently through his fur, and together you drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other's warmth.
As the light settles through the curtains, you gradually wake up, feeling arms wrapped around your waist. Your heart racing with a mix of joy and disbelief, you see your lover back to normal and already awake. He looks down at you tenderly, gently brushing the stray strands of hair from your face. You gently cradle his face, savoring the precious moment before drawing him into a close embrace, filled with gratitude that your lover is finally back in his true form.
Rafayel ฅᨐฅ :
You visit his studio, only to find the room he usually paints at messy. More messy than usual. Paw prints were scattered all over the canvases, the floor, and the furniture. As you call out for Rafayel, a distressed orange cat darts towards you, urgently trying to climb up your leg and practically crying.
"MYEOWWWW" "MYEOOWWW"
You giggle thinking Rafayel must have scared the cat. As you bend down to soothe it, the cat tries to climb onto you, continuing to meow loudly and seek comfort.
"Did Raf let you in? Did he scare you?"
The cat steps back with a huff, it's ears going in airplane mode as it shakes its head in disapproval. You were amused by the cat from how it looks like it just responded to you. "Let me go find him."
You call out for him again, but the only reply is the cat gently tapping your feet. As you look down, you see the cat jump onto a stool, giving you a clearer view. To your surprise, you notice it's wearing Rafayel's locket- the one that matches your bracelet, something he has gifted you a while ago. The realization hits your hard, your lover has turned into a cat.
You approach him, gently petting him to offer reassurance. Your aware of how much he fears and dislikes cat and now somehow he transformed into one and you're not sure how long this curse will last on him. You stifle a snicker, finding the situation oddly amusing, but your determined to take good care of your love in his new feline form.
"meow."
Even as a cat, he chatters endlessly, trailing after you wherever you go. You clean up the studio from the mess he made as a cat and the ones he probably made in his human form. "meow. meow. meow. meow. meow."
You attempt to wash the paint off his paws yet he hisses at the water despite him being a Lemurian- perhaps it's due to his feline nature. He also rejects the healthy cat food you offer, hissing and retreating to a corner in disapproval. He tries to sneak and steal his favorite food but he gets caught by you every time. You had to give him positive reinforcements and praise him for him to eat the cat food you fed him.
Anytime he passes by a mirror, he would hiss at it. Anytime you wouldn't give him attention, he would bite your leg or your arm depending on what you're doing. When you scold him for doing that, he'll have his tail and brush against your leg while meowing at you. "myeowwww. myeowwwww."
You attempted to play with him on the bed, but he suddenly stood up on his hind legs. In a playful misstep, he ends up flopping onto his back and tumbling off the bed.
After a long day, you prepare for bed, with him trailing behind you, his paws making soft pattering sounds. He leaps into the space right next to you, settling in comfortably. You gently scratch the back of his head, and he purrs softly, secretly enjoying the affection. You kiss the top of his furry head and wish him a goodnight before you both drift off to sleep.
It wasn't the sun that woke you up by your lover who was right beside you gasping when he finally realized he wasn't a cat anymore.
"Maybe true love's kiss? Pfft. You should've kissed me sooner cutie. Was I not adorable even as a cat?"

Sylus ≽^-˕-^≼ :
You wake up to the heavy weight of a cat sitting on your stomach. A Burmese with dark, fluffy fur is perched comfortably on you, staring at you with a piercing gaze. The intensity of its stare is a bit unsettling and you're left wondering how this cat appeared or what it's doing in Sylus's home.
"meow."
You shift to a sitting position, causing the cat to hop off your body. However as you settle, it immediately climbs back onto you, finding a comfortable spot once more. Instinctively, you reach down to pet it, and it closes its eyes, purring contentedly. As you reach for your phone to call Sylus, you hear his phone from the opposite bedside table right next to you.
Confused, you get up from the bed and start searching for him, with the cat following you and meowing persistently. "meow. meow." You check every room, calling out for him, but he's nowhere to be found. You even asked Mephisto where Sylus might be, only to remember you don't speak crow. You eventually asked him to fly in the direction Sylus might have gone, but the crow remains still as the cat stands right beside you.
Not understanding the clue right away, he paws at you and meows insistently. As you glance down, you notice the red, shiny necklace Sylus always wears. Suddenly it hits you that all this time it was Sylus who had been the cat.
Finding his new form both adorable and amusing, you reach down to pet him. As you let out small laugh, he playfully wrestles with your arm. You didn't want to admit it but somehow even in his cat form, he was still strong as he playfully dominated your arm with ease.
He eats any cat food you give him without any fuss. He has a lot of fun playing with Mephisto though you think it seems one sided, as Mephisto quickly flies away in fear whenever he jumps up to chase him. He also enjoys playing around with Mephisto's feathers and becomes even more engaged when you join in as you hold up the feather for him to catch.
He purrs contentedly whenever he's on your lap or curled up right beside you. His purring continues as you brush his fur and nearly drifted off to sleep as he finds it so soothing.
He follows you everywhere around the house, not giving you any space at all. Even when you're in the bathroom, he trails after you, watching every move with whatever you do in there.
As you prepare for bed, he tries to settle on you again, but he feels a bit heavy with the weight on your stomach so you gently lift him to curl up beside you instead. He doesn't mind being moved, as long as he's close to you. Once he's settled, he makes himself comfortable and you both soon drift off to sleep together.
You haven't woken up yet, still unaware that he's already returned to his human form. Propper up on one elbow, with the other arm around your waist, he watches you sleep with a soft smirk, finding your peaceful sleep adorable. As you stir, you might wonder if the previous day's events were just a dream and he would one hundred percent try to make you believe that.
#xavier x reader#xavier x you#xavier x y/n#zayne x reader#zayne x you#zayne x y/n#rafayel x reader#rafayel x you#rafayel x y/n#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x y/n#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#xavier lads#zayne lads#rafayel lads#sylus lads#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace scenarios#lads x you#lads x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
he can’t sleep without you. | roommate!scara x gn!reader.
in which you both are roommates (gasp). and he cannot seem to have a good’s night rest without your warmth.
notes: clingy scara!!, profanity, mutual pining, one mention of innuendo but still sfw, scara is sort of like a cat that waits outside of the bathroom door, not proofread
roommate!scara small hcs: here | masterlist
For someone so adamant about getting all his 8 hours of sleep, he sure as hell was too willing to lose it so easily.
With one hand begrudgingly wiping away the drowsiness from his eyes, he clenches the blanket closer in the other, shivering as the breeze hits his puffed cheeks and loose top that he carelessly slipped into the night before.
Scaramouche felt the heaviness weighing on his movement; his hair was no doubt disheveled, and his dark circles were already starting to pull underneath his bottom eyelids. Miserably, he tried to run his fingers through the strands, only to struggle when he was met with a particular knot...
In other words, he felt like complete shit.
…
Just where are you right now?
Squinting at the faint light peering through the corridor, he hears nothing but the hum of the air conditioner and the shuffling of footsteps behind the bathroom door.
Tossing his legs over the edge of the mattress, he briefly weighed his options:
Either pass out on the cold, hard ground
Watch the lost hours take a toll on his plummeting mood as he waits for you.
Neither which seemed possible nor pleasant to him.
God, are those his only alternatives? He drags a hand down his face, slipping on some fuzzy cat sandals (a gift, courtesy of you after convincing him that it was well worth the price only to see him lap around rocking cute merch, much to your amusement).
And his mind reels back at the thought of you.
…
A normal and sane person wouldn’t limp his way out of the bedroom; a normal and sane person wouldn’t take the time dragging his dwindling patience and weary feet towards a conveniently placed bathroom door; a normal and sane person would instead, hog the blankets and fall back to sleep...
…
Despite this, Scaramouche found himself at the mercy of the blazing light at the aforementioned conveniently placed bathroom door.
He scoffs. ‘A normal and sane person.’
With his blanket draped across the wooden tiled floor, his hand dug out from under the duvet before landing swift knocks on the wood.
1 knock.
Then 2.
Then finally, 3.
Scaramouche clenches the makeshift coat closer, shivering as he shoots glares at the door.
“Are you done?” Scaramouche grumbled before plummeting his head onto the door itself; a sense of exasperation flowing through him and by god, he hoped you could sense his desperation too. “Come back to bed, it is too cold.” His sense of shame would come back in the morning once he was more lucid. But right now, he just wanted to sleep.
And unfortunately, he also wanted you.
—
It started as a simple movie night: hiding within the cozy sheet of a small blanket, huddling closer for warmth, pressing up so close against each other. Even with the screen blaring on his face, the clear exhaustion from a movie marathon, he still found comfort in the way your fingers gently roamed and traced down his back then up to brush the hair sticking out from his neck. While his head rested comfortably at your shoulder, humming slightly to the background static.
This was becoming a regular occurrence:
You suggest a movie after watching him fumble around with his work, eyes nearly drooping after painstakingly looking at a computer all day, with coffee prepared in those branded ‘Best Employe of the Year’ mugs his company loves parade around. With one quick glance at his sad form, you were already coaxing him onto the couch for ‘just a few minutes’ until suddenly, he was cozied in pajamas and the blanket wrapped around him like some sort of makeshift hostage situation.
More and more, until he finds himself cuddling close to your form, his arms wrapped under the fabric of your waist, and your leg lifted onto his hip.
More and more, until he is the one to instead force you out of your chair and into watching a horror movie with him, sliding snacks he knows you’ll indulge in when he doesn’t see.
More and more, until he feels you wrap the blanket around him the next day, gently whispering a quick ‘good morning’ before quickly making a beeline to the bathroom in order to prepare for work.
But in your absence, his hand reaches out after you, eyes flat on the door: a fleeting acknowledgment and the longing to get you back into his arms.
It was maddening.
..So, this was no different.
Another excuse to press close against each other; the cold chill from that busted heater leaving you to fend for yourself with the only pair of a heated blanket until the next morning—bringing you to offer another movie.
This time, childhood classics.
“You know, we should sleep together,” you suddenly say, the rumbling from your chest awakening him.
He pauses, his head lifting from his spot. “Excuse me?”
“Like bed-sharing. Cuddling. Horizontally lying on a mattress. Together. Ever heard of the concept?” you chuckled. “What were you thinking about?”
He makes a face. “Absolutely nothing.” And he turns on his side, his back to your chest, away from your stifling laughter. “…Why are you even asking in the first place?” comes out after a moment.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the way you stretched your arms out to release some of the tension from your body, then leaned your head on his shoulder. “We’ve been doing this for a while, yeah? I don’t know, heater is still kinda busted and I kinda don’t want to be alone right now.”
There was an extended pause in his reply.
Truthfully, there were little reasons to hate the arrangement and even fewer reasons to refuse it. In fact, with the way your chin comfortably sits on his skin, his mind was reeling with warmth despite the bitter cold biting his skin.
“No worries, the deal is still on the table so don’t feel pressured,” you smile up at him, taking his silence as a refusal. “I can go out to get-“
Then he cuts you off, huffing with amusement. “Sure, do what you want.”
And he leaves it at that, already scooting closer to your chest and comfortably making room in your arms.
But soon, he feels you gently intertwine your hands together, pulling the back of his to your lips. With your eyes glinting with fondness, you breathe in. “Thanks.” and before he can react, you were already pressing your face into the curve of his neck, contentment rolling off on you in waves.
…You were maddening.
—
For a moment, there was no other sound except the hum of the air conditioner and the shuffling of footsteps behind the bathroom door. Scaramouche sighs.
From being habitually conditioned into only sleeping by your side, he finds that the aftermath led up to whatever state he is in right now.
3:12 am. He checks once more. You were taking long. He embraces the cool chill, the blanket already half shallowing his body at this point, spilling to the bottom like some coat.
He probably looks ridiculous standing in front of the bathroom, tapping his foot, impatiently waiting for your return.
Like a cat, he could hear you say.
And as if you heard his increasingly humbling pleas, before long, the door peers open, shedding light on his poor eyes and through his rather tense squinting. Barely stepping foot into the room, you jump at the sight of your roommate—who, he would have guessed from your dumbfounded gasp and prolonged stare, you weren’t expecting to be up at this hour.
“…How long were you standing there?”
He only regarded you with the tilt of his head, his eyes narrowed at your form. “Long enough.” he murmured.
With your eyes doused with concern, he watched as you took one step towards him, reaching out to tug his hand back into your room. “Sorry, had to use the bathroom.” That was until you seemed to catch the odd blush on his face, dimmed light exposing his visage. He could almost sense your glee the moment you decide you weren’t going to pity his poor self. “Did you miss me by chance?”
Firmly, he quickly tugs you closer, landing his head on your shoulder and pointedly ignoring your comment. “Just shit faster, I need to sleep.”
Scaramouche didn’t comment on how you sucked in a harsh breath, lips parting as he hugged you tighter. Buried into your neck, he fought the smile that crept up on his face and the raging heat coaling in his cheeks. He heard a soft laugh echo into the air before a lightweight softly hit his head, humming a gentle: “Missed you too.”
He wasn’t sure if it was pounding in his ears or the thumping of your heartbeat, but as your warmth wrapped around his cool body, his composure ever so slightly weakened and lulled into a quiet hum. Gathering all his aches in a single embrace, he can’t help but desperately tug onto your shirt, demanding a resemblance of dignity — only for it to fail terribly as he leaned in closer, his body already weak to the kisses you press against his temples.
And that was enough for him.
(That was enough for his mind to come to a rest.)
So yes, you were revolting in every sense of the word. And yet if he were to choose, Scaramouche would willingly suck up his pride than ever pull away from your warm embrace.
#LMAOOO#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x you#wanderer x reader#scaramouche x reader fluff#genshin x reader#genshin x you#scaramouche#who is up and yearning right now
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Simon "Ghost" Riley and Your New Cat 🌷
simon having beef with a stray cat you brought home silly little idea i had no content warnings, just cute fluff, female reader :3 not proofread!
i just realised the cat’s name changes half way through 😭 i’ve fixed it now - 04/11/2024


"What the hell is tha’?" he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared in disbelief at the little black kitten in your lap.
"I found him. He’s called Lettuce," you grin, cuddling the cat to your chest. You’re well aware that lettuce is a stupid name for a cat, but it just seemed right at the time. The kitten was tiny, and had seemed very weak when you’d discovered him shivering in a box outside your apartment block. Now, he seemed a lot more comfortable, making a little home for himself on your sweater. He was so small - he literally fit in the palm of your hand - but his frizzy black hair stuck out at every angle so that he looked less like a kitten and more like a wiry pompom.
"Love," Simon laughed, rubbing his face with a sigh, "Lettuce looks like a flea. Where the hell di’you find ‘im?"
"Oi, he does not! Well, maybe a bit. I found him in a box. He was meowing at me, he looked so cold…" you stroke the kitten’s cheek with your thumb as you he meows up at you.
"You can’t keep him, he might have diseases. You should give him to a pet shelter." Your boyfriend wasn’t being harsh, he was just worried about you - he didn’t want your little heart breaking because you’d got all attached to a poorly little kitten who might not last the week. But it didn’t come off like that.
"Wh… what..?" you frown, cupping the kitty in your hands to protect it.
"I’ll drive you to the shelter tomorrow, okay?"
"What? Si, no!"
"Baby…" he sighs, trying not to upset you "you can’t just find a scruffy animal on the street and take it home."
"S’what I did with you ," you pout, pulling the same face at him as Lettuce pulls at your sweater sleeve as he paws at it.
"Look," he crosses his arms, about to explain to you the reasons why you two don’t have the space for a cat, nor the prior knowledge. What if the cat walks in on the two of you in bed? What if it bites you and his pretty girl gets hurt? What if you end up loving the cat more than Simon and it steals you away? But your pleading eyes and the tiny, stupid looking kitten chirping in your laps convinces him. If you really wanted anything, you know he’d get it for you, so he’ll let you have your silly kitten.
"Alright, fine. For now." He laughs, ruffling his hair.
"I love you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I love you!" you squeal, gently placing the cat down before jumping up with and wrapping your arms around your boyfriend. He rubs your back softly, watching the stupid fluffy ball on the sofa chirp for your attention. Just because he’s letting you have the cat doesn’t mean he won’t see it as his mortal enemy.
The next morning, after having gone out to buy cat food for you, Simon is sitting on the sofa, softly kissing your neck from behind. You’re sitting in his lap… completely ignoring his affection in favour of the kitty.
"Si, look! He can walk!" you grin, holding the kitten up so it looks like it’s standing on two feet.
"Mhm… cute…" Simon mumbles into the nape of your next, a strong hand wrapping around your waist to pull you into his chest. He is not watching the cat, he’s busy with you.
"I know right!" you ignore his advances still, gazing at your new pet with adoration, "I should make him a little hat, he’d look so sweet."
"Yeah, fuck, you’re so sweet…" Si keeps kissing you, moving between your neck and your shoulders, which are hidden inside his old tshirt.
"He’s so cute," you grin, stroking the back of the kitten’s head until it purrs, "I love him so much… he’s my baby."
That catches Simon off guard. He would never admit it to anyone, but he loves it when you call him your baby. He’s the only one you should be calling baby. This cat is stealing his girl. [gasp]
Si shoots the kitten a death stare.
"Oh yeah, he’s your baby?"
"Yeah, he’s the cutest…"
"Mhm. I’m sure," he pouts. When you’re not looking, he glares at the cat and points from his grey eyes to its little beady ones, like he’s trying to intimidate it.
A few days later, the two of you fall asleep together, with Simon spooning you and holding you close. But you forgot to shut the door. So your boyfriend is rudely awakened by a very small, scruffy kitten stomping on his chest.
"No, oi, get off of me," you can hear him grumbling sleepily as you start to stir, alongside the cute chirping of your kitty.
"Listen, Lettu- cat. Stupid name anyways. We can’t have you disturbing the Mrs, alright?"
You can hear him pause until he hears the kitten meow softly in response.
"Tha’s right, soldier. She’s my Mrs, not yours, and if you so much as try to change that, I will never let you see her again. My girl. Mine," he pouts.
The kitten meows again, as if he’s responding to Simon’s orders. You have to try your hardest not to giggle, biting your lip in the dark as you listen to your big, tough boyfriend have an argument with a little kitten.
"Alright, now leave the lady alone." You almost think you can hear him plant a kiss on the cat’s head before he sets it down at the side of the bed.
You’re away for the weekend, visiting family, without your boys (Simon and the kitten). :(
Simon’s fine, he’s a tough guy, he has no issue being alone - that is, until he’s poorly and he needs you to cuddle him and make him tea. But you’re not there, and talking to you over the phone only makes him feel worse.
So he resorts to laying in bed, in the shade, trying to nap. Poor boy feels too ill to do anything else (he has the man flu).
With the back of his hand over his forehead, one leg over the covers and one leg under, not quite sure whether he’s awake or asleep, he closes his eyes and frowns. A little black ball hops up onto his bed, waking him up a little.
It plods around in a little circle, looking around and exploring its new environment. When the fuzz creature spots Simon, he waddles over curiously, his little feet sinking into the soft duvet cover.
"Hey, cat," Simon smiles softly, watching the fluffy baby wander and get closer to his face. It looks up into his eyes, chirping, and brushes its fur against his cheek before settling into the crook of his neck.
He chuckles, closing his eyes as the tiny guy curls into a ball against him. The rivalry isn’t quite over for Simon, but that funny looking kitty is a little piece of you, and he’s happy to have its affection.
When you come home, it’s to the two of them, cuddled up on your bed. Silently, you change into a t-shirt and slip into bed behind Simon, planting a little kiss on his cheek.
"Told you he was cute."


how i imagine your kitten 💗
i spent way longer on this than i thought i would but it’s so cute and i loved writing it! hope you enjoy lovieeees
#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#cod#ghost#ghost x reader#ghost x you#fluff#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#headcanon#kitten#kitty#cute kitty#pet#kitty cat#cats of tumblr#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley#cod ghost x reader#ghost fluff#ghost cod#ghost fanfiction#ghost call of duty#cod headcanons#cod mwii#call of duty modern warfare#cod modern warfare#call of duty#call of duty x reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
cute glasses ◦◦ d. winchester



summary: your eyes are dry because of your contacts, so you have no choice but to put your glasses on
pairings: established dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x gn! reader
word count: 1.3K
warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', major fluff, some insecure thoughts, but mainly fluff
a/n: first official fic for dean!! also this was intentionally written as a blurb but as always, it seems i have more write than intended lol
please reblog and comment, i love to see your thoughts!
𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
You had to fight the temptation to rub your eyes as you stared hard at your laptop, the screen emitting a blue light that was beginning to give you a headache alongside the dryness of your contacts as you sat at the table in the motel room. You blinked hard multiple times, trying to bring moisture to your contacts and find some relief from the dryness, but nothing was working.
You were still dressed in the FBI garb you had put on in the morning when you and Dean were going to the station to gather information on the hunt the two of you were working. Sam would have joined the two of you, but he had come down with a cold, and Dean forced him to stay back at the bunker while the two of you would work the hunt.
You glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand, seeing that 10 minutes had passed since Dean went out to get dinner for you two. You threw your head back with a groan, feeling the soreness in your shoulders as you sat down and hunched over your laptop, researching for hours on end.
You stood up from the seat and stretched out your limbs like a cat waking up from a nap and stalking over to your bag to grab your pajamas and glasses, and headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get comfortable.
You jumped into the shower and rinsed off the day. After showering, you took out the dry contacts that were irritating your eyes, put them back into their case, and let out a sigh of relief when you blinked, and moisture was restored to your eyes.
You put on your glasses and strolled back into the room to find Dean sitting at the table and pulling the food out of the takeout bag.
"Took you long enough, sweetheart. I got us Chinese since there was a place I saw when driving in an-" He stopped talking as you crossed the room to see what he ordered.
"And what?" You asked him, looking at him with furrowed brows as you took in Dean's stunned expression, his mouth agape as his eyes flickered around and all over your face.
"You have glasses." Dean pointed out, blinking slowly as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
You raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh, yeah I do."
"Since when?"
"Since I was a freshman in high school." You told him as casually as you could, not wanting to make a big deal out of you wearing glasses.
"How come I've never seen you with them on?" Dean asked you with knitted brows.
"Err…" You trailed off. You didn't really want the boys to know you had glasses since you could be considered a liability if anything were to happen to your contacts or glasses. But hey, you've managed this long hunting with them, and you haven't died yet because of them. You just didn't want the boys to look down on you because you had them, and they could potentially hinder you in hunts.
"I wear contacts, and I try to keep them in for as long as I can until I can get back to my room and put my glasses on." You finally explained with a sheepish smile as you rubbed the back of your neck.
Dean's face turned into one of realization. "Is that why I sometimes feel you slip out of bed and then come back a couple of minutes later?"
You felt your face flush with heat as you nodded in response. Dean chuckled lightly at your embarrassment and leaned in to kiss your forehead. Then, a chaste peck on your lips before turning back to the food.
"You're not gonna ask me why I kept this from you?" You asked, confusion coloring your words as you saw him sit down in front of your closed laptop and dig into one of the takeout boxes with a plastic fork.
"Do you want me to?" Dean questioned through a mouthful of chow mein.
"Uh, not really. I was just ready for you to go all Spanish inquisition on me." You sat down across from him and looked through the takeout boxes before opening one of them to find the orange chicken.
Dean swallowed the food he was chewing. "Look, you had your reasons, and yeah, I have many questions about them but right now I just want to stare at you with them on."
You raised an eyebrow at him again. "You like them?"
"Yeah," He shrugged. "You look beautiful with or without them on." Dean reached across the table and traded chow mein for the orange chicken box in your hands.
You smiled at him, feeling your cheeks flush with heat again before huffing an amused breath through your nose. You narrowed your eyes at him as you leaned forward, taking Dean, who was still in his FBI suit, minus the jacket, tie, and a few of the buttons on his shirt unbuttoned.
"The glasses are doing something for you aren't they?" You teased him as you took a bite of the chow mein.
"Yeah, you have this sexy librarian thing going on. Could only imagine how much hotter you would have been if you left your FBI suit on." Dean's mouth pulled into a coy smirk, his green eyes alight with mischief and desire.
You chuckled as you shook your head. "Of course, you'd be into that."
Dean shrugged again as he popped a piece of orange chicken in his mouth.
Later, when the two of you finished eating and did a little more research and while you were doing your skincare, a sliver of worry still sat with you as you thought about how this would affect Dean and hunting. When you climbed into bed with Dean and placed your glasses on the nightstand, your world got a little blurry, but you could still see Dean's slight smile on his face as he pulled you into his side, wrapping an arm around your waist.
Dean pressed a warm kiss on your forehead. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asked lowly, his voice laced with care and fatigue.
"S'nothing." You shook your head.
"Come on, don't like seeing you like this before we go to bed." Dean squeezed your waist.
You sighed before propping your chin on his chest. "Just concerned that you might worry about me because of my bad eyesight."
Dean looked at you before leaning forward to press another kiss to your forehead and brought his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against the soft skin. You leaned into his warm touch, pressing a kiss into his palm.
"I'm always going to worry about you," He started, pausing before finding his following words.
"But you've been hunting with your contacts and glasses for a long time before you met me, and you've been able to keep up with me and Sam without us knowing. I don't care that you have glasses or contacts because you're still a damn good hunter."
You smiled at his words before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against Dean's full lips. Dean kissed you just as softly as you pressed your lips against yours and chased your lips as you pulled away.
You rested your forehead against his. "Thank you." You whispered, your lips brushing against his as you did.
"No problem, sweetheart. Let's get to bed, we've got a bastard to hunt."
You chuckled softly at his words and pressed a quick kiss on his lips before settling beside him and melting into his side as you guys slowly fell asleep, finding that your dreams were filled with Dean's joyous laughter and playful kisses.
#daisy writes#heres a cute a fluffy fic for dean#before i write all the angsty fics i have for him in my WIPS LOL#dean winchester#dean my beloved#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x gn reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfics#supernatural#supernatural x reader#supernatural one shot#supernatural fluff#supernatural fanfiction#spn#spn x reader#spn fanfiction#spn one shot
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
movie night | choi seungcheol (m)

title: movie night pairing: seungcheol x (f)reader genre/rating: established relationship, pwp; 18+ summary: You’re definitely still mad at him, but he’s so hot. wc: 1.6k warnings: mentions horror movies and stuff, reader is trying to “i’m scared” her way into getting some dick, mentions periods/pms, kissing, missionary, makeup sex, big dick!cheol, unprotected sex, they’re so cute lol, i think that’s all note: i wrote this one day bc i was in my feelings lol. i hope you like this little october parting gift. it’s unedited bc i've been super busy so i apologize for my trash lol.
inbox | join my taglist | divider credit
“That’s not my scarecrow.”
You clutch your blanket close to your body as you sit surrounded by darkness on your living room couch. Your boyfriend, Seungcheol, is seated beside you. Although he’s only inches away it seems like you’re miles apart emotionally.
There haven’t been too many words exchanged between you over the past few days. You can’t recall the subject of the argument, or the catalyst—but you’re days away from your period and if you’re being honest, deep down, you miss your man.
However, you’re as stubborn as they come. Hoisting your white flag isn’t an option for you. He’s usually the one who resolves these things. You can’t understand why all of a sudden he has to match your energy. He’s doing this on purpose to torture you.
As you stare at the screen, already knowing what is in store for the elderly woman with the shotgun in hand, mischief creeps its way into your mind—conjuring a sinister but genius plan to grant you some of your boyfriend’s attention. You’ve seen this movie more times than you can count, and have added it to your Top 10; but tonight, you’ll pretend it is too much for your poor little heart.
After the gunshots, the TV is dark and quiet, and then suddenly the lady appears. She comes closer and closer to her front porch, her cats screeching and scurrying in fear as they lay eyes on a sight not visible to the pair of stranded siblings and the movie viewers. You hold your breath, waiting for the perfect moment—and then, it happens.
The creature drops the woman’s limp body and reveals himself, leaving everyone shocked by the sudden character death. You pretend to be frightened by the jumpscare, purposefully shifting closer to Seungcheol as you bounce out of your seat with your false fear.
Instead of offering one of his strong arms for comfort, you’re given a cold side-eye, but the failed attention doesn’t falter your determination. You wait for another startling scene, and once again, you stage a dramatic reaction. This time, whether it’s out of annoyance or concern is unknown, he acknowledges you.
“Scared?”
Timidly, you offer a small nod. You secretly hope it is as feeble as you strived for it to be.
“Come here,” he beckons, opening his arms for you to come over and snuggle against his chest.
You leap at the opportunity faster than you intended, but he either doesn’t notice or just chooses not to say anything. Once you’re next to him, head resting on his chest while your leg is thrown over his lap—he wraps his right arm around you and surrounds you with warmth. You smile, but only until the movie is over.
After about 30 minutes, the credits roll, and the movie is over. You stretch, knowing it’s time to go get some sleep because you have work in the morning. As you stand and start walking to your bedroom, you’re puzzled when you don’t hear the familiar sound of Seungcheol dragging his feet behind you.
“You’re not coming?” you ask, turning around to see if there’s any sign of him preparing for bed.
Unfortunately, he seems comfortable where he is. It’s not like he has work tomorrow, like you. However, you always move to the bedroom at the same time. You’re taken aback by the random change of plans.
“Later.”
You hope the darkness conceals your disappointment. Tomorrow morning you’ll wake up horny, but you’ll probably die if someone touches you while you’re PMSing. You want to fuck now, so tomorrow your hormones won’t be all over the place, but you won’t ask. Your pride is too high.
“Okay. Well, goodnight.”
“Night, baby,” he replies, not even watching your defeated figure walk away.
Your legs carry you to your room and you fall on the bed face first, burying your head in the comforter to mask your sigh of frustration. You aren’t sure how long you lie there, but you begin to fall asleep. However, the sound of your boyfriend’s voice makes you jolt with surprise.
“Shit! What the fuck!”
His laughter fills the room, but you don’t find anything funny. He nearly scared your soul out of your body. You send a pillow flying towards his head.
“When did you become such a pussy?” he asks, catching the object in mid-air.
“Shut up, you just startled me.”
“Sure, I did. Did the movie startle you too?”
Rolling your eyes, you return your head to the covers, shielding yourself from his teasing. You don’t bother making room for him because you’re still a little pissed. You figure he’ll just leave you alone and sleep on the couch but then his cold fingertips touch the back of your thigh and your mood changes drastically.
They begin to travel across your exposed skin, eventually crawling under your large t-shirt, a “borrowed” item of his. You can only imagine the look on his face when he finds nothing but panties underneath. Sure, he knows how you sleep, but he probably wasn’t expecting you to dress so conveniently tonight.
You exhale a soft moan as his fingers tickle your inner thighs, and he’s quick to notice the way you’ve crumbled in a matter of seconds.
“I mean… it’s okay to be scared, baby.”
“I’m not scared, asshole,” you mumble into the fabric. “Just go back to the—”
“Want me to ease your mind?” When silence falls over the room, he mistakes it for rejection and withdraws his hand. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Your reaction leaves him smirking, but you don’t care how desperate you appear.
“No, come to bed,” you insist, grabbing his shirt.
As he slips one of his arms around your waist you pull him closer, making his knees hit the edge of the bed.
“Is that what you want?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
It only takes seconds before your lips connect for a slow and gentle kiss. It’s a silent peace offering, a surrender to all the desires you both have held onto out of stubbornness. Seungcheol naturally gains all the control, using his dominance to take the lead. His confidence earns your submission, and you allow him to gently guide you back on the bed.
Climbing on top of you, he can’t bear to pull away. He removes his shirt in a swift motion, tossing it across the room while he continues his trail of kisses down your neck. Your body arches off the bed as he removes your panties, aiding him by kicking your legs until they slip off your ankles. Once you are bare, you spread your legs for him and he settles between your thighs.
“Look at you,” he taunts, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Not so bratty now, huh?”
Seungcheol’s hand finally touches your pussy, leaving you gasping for air. Words get trapped in your throat, making you croak out responses to the pleasure you’re feeling between your legs.
“Please.”
Your begging grasps his attention and he pauses briefly to look into your eyes.
“What are you asking for?”
He continues to slowly massage your clit, causing your crevice to become soaked with your arousal. You hear the lewd sounds it makes as he dips his fingers in and out of your heat. It’s almost shameful, but there’s no room for modesty in your bedroom.
“This,” you say clearly while your palm presses firmly against his crotch. His dick feels hard and solid; even through his thick sweatpants. You’re pleased to know you aren’t the only one eager for some relief.
Seungcheol hisses in agony as your hand lazily strokes his sensitive length. His sculpted forearms tremble as he struggles to hold up his weight while watching the scene unfold.
“I need it.”
In an instant, your wish is granted. He springs into action by standing up and pulling down his pants and underwear in one motion. You prop yourself on your elbows so you can watch the way his dick stands at attention, begging to fill your soddened center.
Seconds later, he returns, climbing on top of you and lowering his head. As you chase each other’s lips, you feel him near your opening. Your hips rise off the bed, trying to meet his tip so he can sink into your warmth.
You gasp when he slips inside, relieved that the teasing is now over. Wrapping your limbs around his body, you pull him closer, wanting to feel his lips on you once more.
Your moans pour into each other’s mouths as your boyfriend begins fucking you with deep thrusts. You hold onto him tightly while he whispers the filthiest things in the sweetest ways you’ll ever hear.
He brings you closer and closer to your peak with every snap of his hips. The tension building in your core starts to become unbearable. Seungcheol can feel the way you’re clenching around him and delivers his final thrusts with precision.
As your cries of pleasure fill the dark bedroom, you can hear the neighbors banging on the wall. Both of you laugh, knowing a nasty note will be left on your door in the morning.
“Can you do me a favor?” he asks.
You nod, of course. “Anything.”
Feeling invincible in your post-orgasmic high, you’re ready to take on the world.
“The next time you wanna act scared, pick a movie you haven’t watched a thousand times.”
Instead of throwing another pillow at him, you smack him with it instead. He falls over dramatically, but his giggles can’t be controlled. You can only roll your eyes and take his advice.
Damn. He knows you too well.
---
If anyone can guess which movie they were watching without using Google, I will hug you lol.
#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol smut#scoups x reader#scoups smut#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#s coups x reader#s coups smut#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagine#scoups fanfic#scoups imagines#seungcheol imagine#aaagustd.fics
844 notes
·
View notes
Note
how would simon react if his mail order bride got really really sick?
mail-order bride
the phone is ringing.
he's on leave, so normally he would never even touch the thing. but there are only two ringtones he has to answer to, and this one isn't price.
he picks it up, putting it to his ear. he wipes the sweat off his brow, letting out a sigh as he steps back under the shade. the sun is out today, of course choosing to beat down on him the one day he finally decided to build you better planters for your little garden.
you've taken to it quite nicely. you love being out here, tending to the little roots and the tiny leaves that have started to sprout. he thinks you look so cute when you're out here, on your knees. you always tie a scarf around your hair and wear these sage green gloves, and he thinks you look so fucking adorable when you come back inside with dirt along your brow and a sweet little smile on your face. you always give him an update. the carrots are so stubborn, you huff, and he tries to hide his grin as you bring out your little gardening journal and scribble in it all frustrated. look, simon! the tomatoes! look! look!--and he practically keens when you grab his hand to bring him outside so he can see.
but it's gotten too small. you've outgrown the little boxes of dirt, and simon knows you're itching to do more. the planter is only half done, so he's a little peeved to be interrupted while he's just starting to get it together.
"wot is it, luv, i'm--"
"s-simon?" your voice is a soft whimper, and you're sniffling on the other line. simon stands up straighter, dropping his tools immediately as he wipes his hands on his jeans and starts to go inside.
"oi. wot happened?"
"s-simon, i-i don't feel so good, c-could you come get me?"
simon lets out a low breath, shaking his head.
"fuckin' hell, luv," he mutters, grabbing his keys and wallet by the door. "still at the library?" you had asked him to drop you off in town, wanting to visit a few of the shops along the main road. your eyes had bugged when you saw the quaint little library and pastry shop, and he agreed to come back later after your little excursion.
"y-yeah, i-i..." you cough a little. "i-i got...i got sick. in the bathroom, i-i--"
"'s olright," he quiets you. "'m comin'. gimme a few minutes."
simon finds you in the family restroom of the little library, seated on the floor and hugging the toilet. he curses under his breath when he finds you, tears blurring your vision as you cry. you didn't sound so bad on the phone, but maybe you were just holding it together until you got yourself some help.
"ohhhh, swee'eart," he sighs, pushing the hood of his jacket off as he kneels down to your level. he wipes the sweat off your forehead with a gloved hand, cupping you under your jaw. "you olright?"
"no," you sob, gasping a little between tears. "i feel terrible, s-simon, i--"
"olright," he coos. "'m 'ere now. let's get ya 'ome. get ya into bed, tha' sound good?"
you nod. you look sickly, eyes dull, a cold sweat breaking out all over you. he suspects it might be the flu, considering the body aches you seem to have and the headache you tell him about as he helps you into the car. he gives you some water, stroking your face gently, and when you tell him how cold you are, he shucks his jacket off and drapes it over you before taking you back home.
you're in and out of consciousness over the next few hours. simon had helped you into your pajamas before tucking you into bed. he watched you with a glare to make sure you took the medicine he gave you, and he made you drink at least four glasses of water before he let you drift off to sleep.
when you wake up later in the evening, the cat is purring on her little bed hanging on the windowsill. simon had installed it a few weeks ago, a little perch bed so she could look outside and watch the little bunnies that came by in the morning. it's dark out now, and when you look around, simon has turned your little diffuser on, and it smells like lemons.
"s-simon?" you croak. your throat hurts. you hear a shuffle in the kitchen, and then simon is coming into the room. he doesn't turn the main light on, merely coming close and flicking the low lamp on beside you.
"'ow are ya feelin'?" he asks softly. your eyes are watery again, and he sighs, putting the back of his hand to your forehead and grimacing. "not as warm, at least. what do ya need, hmm?"
"my throat," you whisper. "i-it hurts--"
"i'll bring ya a cuppa, baby," simon murmurs. you sniffle, leaning into his hand. "do ya want somethin' ta eat? anythin'? got some bread...some soup if y'r up for it."
your lip wobbles, and he shakes his head, kissing your forehead gently.
"i'll bring ya some bread. if ya can keep it down, we'll try the soup, yeah?"
you just nod and shrug, and he picks up the box of tissues on the dresser and takes one out. he comes back to you, holding your cheek gently with one hand and wiping your tears with the other. he dabs at the sweat gently before he lets you relax again.
"i'll be right back."
you close your eyes when he leaves. you vaguely hear him in the kitchen, the sound of cookware and the whine of the kettle on the stove. simon comes back into the bedroom a little while later, holding a small plate and a steaming mug of tea. he sets down the tea, telling you it's something lemon with honey, and he shows you the thin slice of bread he's toasted with a little butter.
he sits with you while you eat small bites, and he helps you drink the warm tea that immediately soothes your insides. you start to cry again, but not from feeling so terrible.
"wot's wrong?" simon huffs, and you just look up at him, clinging to his shirt, pulling him onto the bed.
"t-thank you," you whisper, and simon just shakes his head.
"wot for?"
"f-for taking care of me. f-for c-coming to get me...for..."
simon meets your eyes, holding them, and he narrows his eyes.
"don't thank me," he says firmly. "wot fuckin' kind o' man would i be if i didn't take care of my wife, eh? sorry fuckin' wanker, is wot i'd be."
"b-but--"
"and when y'r better," he interrupts you, standing as he takes your plate, "got everythin' set up for ya outside. can move the lettuce, like ya wanted."
you sink into the cushions, happy tears in your eyes, and simon leaves, busying himself with the dishes as he tries to fight off the warm, aching feeling in his chest.
fuck, it feels so good to take care of you. to see you smile. to see your wobbly lip and those tear-filled eyes and know that he can make it all better--it feels so fucking good.
when he comes to bed later that night, you're still asleep, but you move towards him, seeking his warmth. it's instinctual now, easy.
there's a place at his side that's made only for you. it's shaped just how you are, it cannot be mistaken to be for anyone else.
when he whispers that he loves you into the dark, you don't hear him. but you scoot just that much closer.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#order up
3K notes
·
View notes