This…tsundere of a man. He is the most difficult person to cuddle, EVER.
Garou likes to act as if he is doing YOU a favor by holding you, when in reality, he is hiding the fact that he also craves some sort of physical contact… nonviolent… physical contact.
He is your personal heater, his body is so damn warm and so comfortable, it's addicting to say the least.
The best place to rest your head is on those tig ol' biddies of his, it's nice to listen to his heartbeat, sometimes it's beating a bit faster than usual because you're around.
Garou will act all annoyed and mutter out loads of curses, but eventually he will decide to swallow his pride and wrap his arms around you, well the… welcome to heaven.
His embrace is so gentle, yet so protective, he will sometimes let his fingers run through your hair to let you fall asleep.
Maybe… just maybe you will see the slightest smile on his face, as he enjoys the proximity between the two of you, just don't say anything about it.
10000000000000/10 because I'm biased towards Garou.
◈ METAL BAT ◈
He's a teddy bear!! He absolutely loves to cuddle you. His embrace is always so nice and warm… and soft!
He loves to play with your hair, and he loves it if you nuzzle your face into his chest.
Another thing he loves is when you're the little spoon, his little spoon, he holds you so gently, like he is touching a porcelain doll.
He loves to have his cat join in with the cuddles.
Badd loves to whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he gently plays with your hair, it's his way of showing you how much he loves you.
Expect lots of forehead kisses, and he definitely covers you with a blanket, he likes to take care of you.
The happily and 🔞smuttily🔞 ever after of Garou and you in my domestic fluff GarouxReader ♥️. You can also read it on AO3 here :)
“Are you awake?” She whispers, stirring against me in the afternoon sun, her back against my chest.
“No,” I whisper back, my face in her hair.
“Mhmm…” she sighs, warm and sleepy, happy as I bring my hand over from her hip to her breast, brushing my fingers against her nipple, feeling it harden so quick, squeezing it lightly as she can’t help but push her ass back against me.
I want to say this is the best morning I've ever had, as I feel myself hard against her teasing, but it must be around midday. Close enough.
"Garou…" she sighs as I keep playing with her nipple.
"Yeah?" I find myself asking, buried in her hair, in her scent.
"Tell me something about yourself. Something I don't know," she whispers.
That was not the direction I thought we were going in but I understand where this is coming from as I feel the warmth of her back against my chest. But I still can't help myself.
"I'm fuckin' horny," I whisper back, very seriously.
I feel her drowsy laughter against me.
"I know that," she says, leading me on playfully. "I can feel it," she adds, grinding softly back against me, nothing but mischief until I can't fucking control it anymore, neither my hands, or my cock or this rasping building in my throat. I grab her hips and hold her good against me, getting inside her again, feeling her growing wetter by the moment.
She grabs the pillow, squeezes it in her hand, her little sleepy gasps turning into full, gorgeous moans, wide awake now as we fuck again, unable to help ourselves.
I kiss the back of her neck, her hair as she lets go of the pillow and places her hand on top of mine holding her hip, pushes back against me.
"Harder…" she breathes as we're both wide awake now.
"Like this?" I say, as I push into her harder, faster.
"Mmm…! Garou…! …Ohhh…!"
And every time she says my name like that, it breaks something small inside of me, something I don't need, with every moan of my name another piece, letting something better, lighter in.
"Garou…!"
I'm here. I've got you darlin'. I’ve got you.
But I can fucking hardly keep cool, stay sane. She's so fucking wet now, all hot and soft and tight around my cock and I fucking can't.
There's no point holding back. I want her now.
And it looks like she does too, arching her back against me so tight, moaning my name…
It doesn't take very long at all before she's ready to cum for me again, before I feel those soft little movements in her, that gasp before pure ecstasy and I hear her pleasure all over again, mesmerised how it just sounds better every time as the feeling of her heady orgasm takes me right there with her. And we're both just a happy mess of sweat and heat and groans, her delighted whimpers.
I do as I'm told. Throw on something clean and feed Delilah, who is less than pleased with me and how disorganised I must seem to her, feeding her at any odd hour but it doesn't matter. She can deal with it for a day.
"Excellent," she says after we're both done panting, reaching back, running her hand through my hair as I press her back closer to me. "Now tell me something I don't know…" she says, full of affection.
I think. There are lots of things, but most of them ain't very pleasant and I don't want to spoil the moment.
I think.
"When I was seven, I buried a treasure in the backyard and made a map. And then I lost the map and I don't fuckin' remember where I buried it," I say.
I hear her soft giggle as she laces her fingers through mine.
"What was your treasure? Maybe we can look for it again."
"It was some monster toys and some of my pocket money," I say, jogging my memory. "Yeah we should really look. I could be fuckin' rich, eh?"
"That's so cute," she says, pulling my arm tighter around herself. "I can see that. Tell me something else."
"I set all the records in high school for running and shit."
"You mean athletics?" She confirms.
"Yeah, all that," I say.
"I can believe that!" She exclaims. "No surprises there."
"But they took them all fuckin' down after I got expelled," I can feel myself frowning.
"Bastards," she says, and I can hear her frowning in support.
And somehow, I just get on this roll. She opens something inside my mind and I just tell her this and that. Nothing too earth shattering or that important but all these little things I had put away, considered useless, hadn't bothered to think about these last however many years. These pieces of my Iife I had forgotten, deemed unnecessary. And we lie there and I tell her things and she listens until we're both way too hungry.
"Ok!" She says eventually, throwing the covers off. "We’re going to celebrate your birthday!"
"Ok," I say, "get back in here," and try to pull her in for one more round, my kind of celebration, but she ain't having it.
"I would have really liked to make you a cake myself but it's fine," she says, expertly slipping out of my grasp and quickly picking up her clothes, pulling her jeans on. "Get up, put some pants on, feed Delilah and then we're going," she says.
"Going where?"
"Outside," she smiles looking from the bright blue sky in the window to me. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes."
I'm just about to get a Coke out of the fridge when she's back and pulls me away, saying I gotta work on my addiction and we step outside.
It's the first proper warm day, much closer to the edge of summer.
It's just another Saturday. To everyone else it's just another fucking Saturday but I feel this is some new age. No one who walks past us as we make our way up the main street, all the cars, all the shop fronts, no one could even fucking begin to understand how different today is for us. How much had to happen before we got to be here, walking easy like this. Nothing at all between us. Having seen and tasted and heard everything. Finally everything. Enjoyed, explored everything of each other.
I don't even fucking hesitate, grab her hand as she leads me to wherever it is she wants to take me.
She looks at me with surprise and slows down just for a fraction of a second, and this smile, half excitement and half shyness lights up her face, cheeks growing lovely and red for a few moments.
She takes me to some place I probably walked past a million times but never noticed. Some cafe or whatever the fuck and picks out all this food and this cake. I tell her she doesn't need to but she ignores me and gets it anyway.
Then we walk down to the water. And this time it's bright, the wind is warm. We still feel we don't belong here by these waterfront mansions but it still doesn't fucking matter, just like it didn't last time.
We go through the trees, down the path to the sand and even though it ain't easy on this steep and narrow trail, I ain't letting go of her hand.
This place looks fucking different in daytime. Same broken pier, same sand but golden now, not the cold silver blue of winter nights. The water this dark green and not a black heaving mass we sat by that night.
We sit on the pier. There are people walking up and down the beach, dogs running around, but still, it's quieter here, tucked away around from the nightlife further up the road.
And we just sit and eat, enjoying the sun, the sound of the lazy waves.
"I can't wait to go swim," she sighs happily.
"Not here," I say.
"Obviously not here," she laughs. "I don't think it's very safe to swim here. Take me back to your little holiday town," she flashes me this brilliant smile and I feel this squeeze in my chest.
I'll take you anywhere you want. Just say the word.
She stretches her legs out in front of her and lifts her face to the sun. And there's something new about her expression. Something a lot less tense. Like she's let go of something frightening and heavy.
'I love you.'
Everyone always thinks these words are fucking magical, the happiest thing. But she, and I, both of us, carried that around like a terrifying secret. Those words, too dangerous to think, let alone say out loud. But not anymore.
I feel her lie back, her head in my lap, just like I would do lying on her couch. There is no hesitation anymore and it makes me so fucking happy.
She reaches up, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun, the other on my face.
"Happy birthday," she says, this soft caress against my forehead, cheek.
This is the best fucking one yet.
She opens the last box, the cake.
"Hope you don't mind not having candles," she says, kneeling down, carefully cutting pieces.
"I don't know…I don't know if I can get over that," I say, full of apprehension.
"Honestly," she pauses and grins up at me. "The smart ass just never stops, huh?"
"Never," I agree and I can't fucking help it. She's so close. And I don't care she's in the middle of doing something. Take her face, pull her in closer, kiss her until she can't breathe and I don't care who's watching.
She tries to protest for a moment, indicating to the cake, but I don't fucking care and then she's all mine, as if melting into me, wanting more.
She looks quickly around after we're done and then goes back to the cake as if nothing just happened, the only evidence this dusting of pink across her cheeks.
"Here," she gives me this huge piece of cake covered in white and yellow frosting, takes a much smaller one for herself.
I look at her questioningly.
"I told you!" She says. "It goes straight to my thighs!"
"It ain't the only thing," I say proudly, nodding at her before digging in.
She's about to say something but then just pushes my hand against my face and can't contain her laughter, seeing me covered in icing.
"That's funny, eh?" I say, nonchalant as I can be. "You reckon that's funny?" Before I grab her and kiss her again, the icing sweet between her mouth and mine, leaving traces of it against her face now too as she laughs and I grin through this kiss.
It's the best fucking birthday.
It's late afternoon by the time we get home.
"Go put that in the fridge," she says, indicating to the leftover food, the cake and goes into the living room.
When I'm done and go to join her I find her standing there, middle of the room, wearing nothing at all.
I stop. Stop a few steps away from this naked beauty, standing there in the afternoon sun pouring through the window, illuminating all her bare curves.
She beckons to me with her finger and I obey.
I feel her hands on my face, pulling me down for this slow soft kiss, before they go to the edge of my shirt, lifting it slowly, undressing me.
"Happy birthday," she whispers in the most barely there, seductive voice right next to my ear I've ever heard before she pushes me down on the couch, making me sit and getting on her knees, unbuttoning, unzipping me.
And before I know it, I feel her warm, gorgeous mouth around my cock and fuck…Her tongue grazing softly against me, her head slowly up and down as she makes sure to get as much of it in as possible, sucking lightly, teasing before going harder, deeper.
I feel myself groan and can't focus on a fucking thing, just feel this raw pleasure she's giving me spread all through me, every muscle. Fuck.
I feel my hand in her hair as she runs her own hands up and down my still bruised chest, traces her fingers along my hip, never stopping, never fucking stopping until she makes me cum hard and panting and then gives me this angelic smile, looking up at me after she swallows and I think I've fucking died and gone to some fucking heaven.
Did I fucking mention this was the best birthday yet?
My eyes open slow when I hear the knock on the door. After she took such fucking good care of me I of course returned the favour and by then, everything considering, we were pretty fucking tired. My eyes open slow and I feel her on top of me as I lie on the couch, both of us just dozing.
Suddenly she hears it too and jumps up, starting to throw all her clothes back on.
I quickly do the same and when we look presentable again I open the door, knowing exactly who it is.
"Uncle!" The kid looks up at me, almost expecting me to not be here or something.
"Hey kid," I say. "You here for the cat?" Of course he is. Why else would he be here?
"No, I just…I just wanted to ask if you're ok," he looks at the ground all shy.
Suddenly, I feel bad. I feel bad because I don't deserve his concern. He sees me as this innocent victim of some meaningless crime but I'm fucking worse than any of those assholes. Probably.
"Yeah," I say, now just as awkward as him.
I gotta do fucking better. Fuck.
We stand there, both silent and uncomfortable for our own reasons until she comes up behind me and takes over, always knowing what to do.
"Hi Tareo!" She says. "Would you like some cake?"
"Cake?" He looks up, now all excitement. I mean who doesn't fucking love cake?
"Yeah, it was his birthday" she pokes me playfully in the shoulder "and we've still got some cake from lunch."
"Uncle, it's your birthday?" He looks up at me, suddenly panicking.
"Nah, it was yesterday," I wave it away. "Doesn't matter," I say as he comes in.
"I'll get you a present next year!" He says with that characteristic determination I like about him. "If I remember," he adds as a disclaimer.
I hope he doesn't. I ain't done anything to deserve it.
"How is your training going?" She asks as we sit around the table, finishing off the cake.
"Good," he says, looking up with mouth covered in crumbs and icing. "I really like it, but I'm not that good," he says, getting a bit embarrassed. "Everyone in the class is better than me," he says, suddenly so downcast. "But it's ok! I'm gonna keep practicing!" He rushes to reassure us.
Hmm.
"What d'you find hard?" I say.
"Well, the first form is ok…" he thinks about it. "But then the second form, when we do this-" he slips out of the chair and demonstrates the drill that’s etched into my brain, my muscle memory, I could do it in my sleep. "I always forget what goes next and then I just forget all the rest," he says glumly.
Yeah I remember it took me a few days to get that one myself.
"Finish your cake and I'll show you," I say.
"Really?" He suddenly lights up.
"Yeah," I say, confused why he's so excited. But she gives me this knowing look, this smile spilling over with joy.
She sits there by the back door and watches me, watches me with her beautiful, affectionate eyes as I take Tareo through the things he doesn't know, teach him the technique, completely unaware that very soon I’d be doing this for a living. Delilah practices her hunting happily around us.
It's golden hour. Covering us all in its inescapable, intense light. This bright light I'd never paid much attention to before. Before there was her.
I wake up from my half-sleep, still on top of her, feel the soft rise and fall of her chest, the steady beat of her heart.
It’s been almost a year since then. Since that afternoon drifting in and out of my memory. And she’s still here. And so am I.
Neither of us can imagine being anywhere else.
I glance outside.
It's still golden hour.
With her, it always is.
With you, it has never been brighter, light of my not so fucked up life.
•Hello again, I’m the anon who requested gender neutral s/o! Thank you so much for writing such beautifully-written story between Garou and them. I’ve ended up loving it very much it was very good read, aww big kudos for you! ❤❤
And for the next request, as the fandom still hyped about part-timer Garou, how about of the continuation of the previous story:
The s/o has a stable job already, right? And Garou realized that currently being a freeloader in s/o’s house makes him a bit guilty. So he decided to lessen the s/o’s burden by taking a part-time job.
The s/o actually don’t mind of Garou being a freeloader, but seeing Garou becomes so determinated about it the s/o can’t help but feel very proud and happy for him.
Lots of fluffy moments after both of them finished working, like cooking a simple dinner together at home, resting their tired bodies on the couch while cuddling lovingly, Garou and the s/o sharing a lot of soft kisses during it while the s/o praising Garou’s hardworking, etc.
And as it’s the continuation of “Reunited’, of course the s/o is still a gender neutral.
Thank you so much and have nice days! 💖•
I’m so happy that I finally got to this one. There were a few requests before it so I had to complete those and I also had to write for the story on AO3 (-_-;) Sorry if I made you wait too long hehe I’m glad you enjoyed the first one tho
_________________________________________
Reunited Part 2
Garou x GenderNeutral!Reader
You stepped through your door after returning from your 9-5 job. Your muscles and joints ached and you stretched your body in an effort to wake yourself up, the plastic bag full of groceries crinkling with every move.
"I’m home…” you softly called, unable to produce a louder noise.
You took your work shoes off along with your coat and scarf, discarding them carelessly by the door, too tired to put them away.
You heard footsteps approaching and smiled when the Garou came towards you. You walked up to him and fell into his arms. Loosely wrapping your arms around his neck, you spoke softly.
“I am so tired today. I can’t even walk straight…”
He quirked a brow. His arms slithered around your waist and he picked you up, taking the bag of groceries from you and putting it on the kitchen counter on the way the bathroom down the hall.
“Another rough day, huh?”
Garou questioned softly and you nodded yawning.
“You have no idea…”
Garou set you down onto the stable counter of your bathroom and helped you out of your office pants, sliding then down your legs. You were left in your white shirt and socks.
Garou left after fixing you a warm bath. Undressing completely, you sat yourself down in your tub, the water temperature hot enough to soothe the undeniable ache in your bones from such a hard day of deskwork.
After washing yourself and sitting in the relaxing steam for an hour, you opted to get up and leave. Garou brought you your pajamas and you slipped them on, stretching and walking out of the tiled room with a towel in your hands.
“Ya finally done…?”
Garou asked deeply, sitting on the black couch of your apartment. You sighed and plopped down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. His fingers came up to massage your sides and you leaned in closer, the two of you now laying on the couch, Garou’s head on the armrest and your body on top of his.
“Mm, this feels good…” you said, slightly drowsy.
“Yeah.”
The two of you laid in silence, the only sound coming from the T.V. opposite from the couch. Garou turned the volume down, setting the mood perfectly. His hands circled your waist, exclusively close to your derrière. His hot breath fanned your ear and you found yourself nuzzling into him even more.
Your eyes slowly shut themselves and you curled up into a comfortable position. Oh boy, this felt so…cozy.
“C'mon, why are you fallin’ asleep on me?”
Garou’s voice rang out and you instantly awoke from your drowsy state.
“Oh, um…sorry. I’m just very sleepy today.”
“Too much work these days…”
You leaned towards his cheek, connecting your lips with it. And with that you wearily stood up and spoke, “I’m just gonna go take a nap. Too tired to function…”
Garou nodded, reluctantly, and let you go. He watched you tiredly carry yourself to your bedroom and fall flat on top of the mattress, immediately falling asleep.
Garou sighed to himself and leaned back onto the armrest of the couch. This had been going on for a number of days. You come home from work, he bathes you and takes care of you, he tries to fuck you and love you but you blow him off for sleep.
It was starting to get infuriating. But why was this happening to you? Things weren’t like this the first month he was here…
In fact, a lot of things had changed since the end of the month. Your fridge used to be stacked with food, you used to have a lot more things around and most importantly, you were livelier.
It was like he turned everything around for you….
Oh, shit.
He did, didn’t he? Fuck!
You were only so tired because you worked harder to support the two of you, you bought the groceries all by yourself, you cooked for him, man he was just taking and taking.
Garou exhaled harshly on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands in a frustrated manner. He’s such an idiot…
Ok ok, think. What do you do when someone lets you freeload in their house, eat their food, lie around all day and be the laziest bum you can be?
Oh, that’s right! You get a job.
He’s made up his mind. He is going to get a job, but there’s no way in hell he’s gonna tell you that. He doesn’t need you gushing over how sweet and cute he is, not wanting to re-experience the time you teased him for trying to make a pancake. He just wanted to be nice without being called a sweetheart, c'mon!
Now, back to the matter at hand. What job can he actually get that doesn’t require any form of experience or education?
>>
You grab a packet of sweetener from the coffee drawer, tearing open the little paper on top and pouring it into the foam cup that held your recently brewed coffee. You silently stirred with the swizzle stick, observing the boring people of your office from the small break room you stood in.
Leaning against the white counter, you sipped the hot substance and sighed in contentment when it travelled down your throat. You slipped your phone out of your pocket and leisurely scrolled through the recent news articles which lined the screen, stopping to read anything important.
And so you spent the next 10 minutes of your 20 minute break just dawdling around on your phone. You threw away the small cup of coffee that had become too cold and bitter for your liking and trekked back to your office, pushing open the pristine glass doors.
Putting your phone away back into your pocket, you took a seat in your office chair, booting up your computer to get back to making spreadsheets and going over the accounts drafted for last month.
You sighed in boredom, correcting some errors made by your ex-deskmates. It feels so good to have your own office, feels so good to get away from those vermin and feels so good being their boss. Yep, getting a promotion was the best. The only down side was that you had way more work now, your underlings tend to make too many mistakes when it comes to balance sheets. You hadn’t told Garou the news yet, you wanted to do it over a cute dinner. It would be way more impactful that way.
Ah, Garou. He always made you feel better after a long day. Just seeing his cute big head relieved you of all the stress that you carried home. Not to mention the amazing feeling of his unexpectedly soft hair between your fingers as you tug and weave or the overwhelming feeling of his strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close and holding your sore body. The touch of his warm mouth on your lips, kissing and worshipping it, invading every intimate part of your form. And the way his tongue felt on your
DING!
Oh, an email from your boss? What’s this about? The she-devil up there never emailed her employees for anything good…
Subject: Executive meeting
Dear D-Wing Employee,
Good Morning. Our company, as you are aware, will be merging with a larger firm, hopefully bringing us larger and more profitable trades.
It has been brought to my attention that many of our business partners and executive directors will be hosting a meeting in the D-Wing of our establishment. It would be most appreciated if all of our D-Wing employees would be willing to postpone their work for a day to enable our higher ups and VIPs to perform the necessary actions in completing this fortunate exchange between two efficient companies, striving to bring better service to the people.
The delay of work shall last from today 10:00 A.M. to tomorrow 12:00 P.M. Thank you for your cooperation. If you have any concerns about this matter, please submit a written letter to the E-Wing, describing your issues.
Best Regards,
Senior Director, Akari Hina
Woah, so you’re basically getting the rest of the day off? And no work at all tomorrow? Hm, maybe your boss isn’t so bad after all.
Packing up and grabbing your coat, you turned off your computer and headed straight for the door, running past all of the other D-Wing employees readying themselves to leave.
>>
Garou sat in the office of a delivery firm, arms crossed and leg bouncing up and down, antsy. He eyed the man in front of him, clad in a suit and tie and looking through the 5 minute resume that Garou printed up.
“So, you’re an expert in ‘being strong’ and 'being cool’. You don’t have much experience, you’re only 18 and you created this resume by yourself?”
Garou nodded, fiddling with the edge of the gray scarf you had gifted him. Ah, another reason to get a job, give you a gift.
“So, did you pass highschool or…? Sorry, I’m confused.”
The man took off his glasses, wiping it with a little cloth that was left on his desk, waiting for an answer.
“Yeah, I left after my third year…”
Garou confirmed, and the man put his glasses back on, and intertwined his fingers on the desk between them.
“That’s good enough. It’ll do. Which department are you looking to work in? We have filing, storage, delivery and cleaning. But you look like a strong kid, storage would be perfect for you.”
Garou thought for a moment, face twisting in confusion. Filing…ugh reading. Storage, hmm not bad. Delivery isn’t hard. He refuses to clean after the slobs here.
“I’m up for anything that has heavy work, no reading or cleaning, thanks.”
He curtly informed his soon to be boss. The suited man huffed and opened up his desk drawer for a notepad.
“Sign these and we’ll get you started. Deliveries should be fine, no?”
Garou picked up a pen and signed away, paper after paper. Who knew FedEx had so many policies?
After providing enough details on the notepad and filling up all of the consent forms, Garou stood up, pushing his chair back slightly. He went to turn the knob of the little office door but was halted by the voice of the man, or should he say, his new boss.
“I’ll have my assistant bring you your uniform, also get rid of the hair. It won’t fit in the hat…”
Garou turned the knob exiting the office and strode out into the garage. A small man walked up to him with a transparent bag of clothes, hiding his face behind it. The only thing he could completely discern about the boy was his name written on the tag near his breast pocket, Ibiki.
“Here is your uniform. When you come back tomorrow, we’ll make a name tag for you.”
The cheery, blushing boy spoke, informing Garou of what he needs to do next. Taking the packet from his hands, Garou asked for a bag to put his new clothes in.
Ibiki scurried off to find a bag and retrieved an empty white one, filling it with the plastic packet.
“Thanks.”
Garou was about to walk out when he heard the kid call out to him.
“Hey Mister! You forgot to take our card. You’ll need the bosses number. See, right here. And this one’s mine!”
Ibiki pointed out the two separate cell numbers and Garou nodded. Ibiki placed a shaky hand on Garou’s shoulder and patted the spot, saying something along the lines of 'you’ll love working with us!’. Whatever, he doesn’t care, all he wanted to do was make your life a little bit easier.
>>
You had arrived home an hour ago, Garou nowhere in sight. You decided to shower and read a book while you waited for him to come home. You had already purchased lunch for the two of you on your way back, deciding that the contents in your fridge weren’t good enough to work with.
After Garou had shown up, things had turned for the better. It seemed like he brought you good luck wherever you went. You could recall the time when Garou wasn’t with you, and frankly, they weren’t the best. He made your life a lot more interesting than what it was before.
Standing up and stretching, you trailed towards your bedroom with your book in hand, opting to lay down comfortably and read. An hour and a half had passed and there was still no sign of Garou. But you had forgotten all about that. You munched on some chips in bed, flipping through the pages of your book, so immersed in it that your ears hadn’t caught the sound of your front door opening.
Garou walked into your shared home, taking off the jacket and scarf and hanging it behind the door. The bag which held his new uniform was hung in the wall closet in the living room. He washed himself up and looked around, expecting you to not be here as usual, but something caught his eye. Your work shoes! Weren’t you wearing these today?
Wait were you home…?
He looked around the house, checking each each and every room when he finally decided to check your bedroom.
Opening the door, he waltzed in, his eyes perceived you on your bed, laying on your stomach with your eyes glued to the book in your hand, potato chip hanging from your lips.
You still hadn’t noticed him in the room and he fully took advantage of that. Creeping around the edge of the bed, he stopped momentarily behind you. He licked his lips at the sight of your butt, clad in tight, black trousers. Without warning, he jumped onto you, his hips landing right on top of your ample behind, rough, trained hands gripping your hips to keep you in place.
You yelped in surprise, book flying across the bed as you jumped, or tried to, out of the way.
“W-where did you come from?!”
Your face twisted in annoyance as you asked.
“I should be asking you that. What are you doing home?”
Garou laid himself on top of you, his sharp chin resting on your head and fingers tightly grasping the mattress under you.
“I have the whole day off today! Now, will you please get off?”
Garou chuckled in excitement at your words, arms coming around to flip you over onto his chest as he turned himself over on his back.
“Never.”
You rolled your eyes and sighed, relaxing down onto him.
“So, where were you this fine morning?”
Your question had not been answered for several seconds and you asked him again.
“Garou, where did you go?”
You turned around, still obove him, your chest to his. You gave him a questioning look, gesturing him to speak.
“Out.”
You quirked a brow, expression unamused.
“I know that!”
He sat up and hugged you, his sharp nose buried between you shoulder and neck, kissing the skin.
“With a friend.”
Garou said, eyes coming up to look at you, waiting for a response.
“Oh really? You have friends?”
He nodded hesitantly, avoiding direct eye contact.
Ok then, he was being weird… But you didn’t want to pry. What he does while he’s out is his business, there’s probably nothing to worry about. Its not like he’s cheating on you or anything, no, he would never do that, he’s not that kind of man.
>>
HE’S THAT KIND OF MAN!
How could he? I-, You- How?! You were just coming home early from work. Turns out your new position didn’t require you to stay for long hours like before, so you just opted to come home. You had to take the long way around this time, passing by all of the urban workshops and postal firms because your normal road was being repaired. You passed by a FedEx warehouse and you could’ve sworn you saw silver hair and a gorgeous body, belonging to none other than Garou.
That was him for sure! Oh, when you get your hands on him…
You stomped your foot in anger at the scene unfolding before you. Garou, undressing in the wide open garage, taking off the clothes you had bought for him, to put on some drab brown and black shirt and pants. A small man hanging off from his shoulder as Garou walked to the desk to…collect something? What is that…?
The fragile looking boy next to him stopped in front of his chest and took what seemed to be a small card and clipped it to the front of Garou’s shirt. He beamed at Garou and your boyfriend turned to pick up the boxes that were strewn around the warehouse and pack them into individual trucks.
Wait a second. Was he working? Garou was working! Ohhh, of course! Yeah, you never doubted him for a second…
You strolled towards them, unknown to the two inside the dark garage, hiding behind the tall stack of boxes. Playfully walking up behind him, the small man gently tapped Garou on the shoulder. He turned around, large boxes still in hand, obscuring his vision.
“What do ya’ want now, Ibiki?!”
Garou’s sudden outburst scared the young man accompanying him, making him jump back frightened.
“The uh… b-boss wanted to umm… know if you could work overtime. Y-you’ll be payed…”
Answered the trembling voice of 'Ibiki’.
“No, I got better things waiting for me at home…”
Garou’s soft answer made you tear up somewhat, and you smiled very gently. Turning your heel, you trecked back home to wait for him. Oh, you might as well set up a surprise for him!
And so, you sneaked away, racing home to start setting up decorations for your hard working man.
>>
It was around 2:00 in the afternoon when Garou had finally walked through the front door of your shared home. He let out a relaxed sigh and carefully hung his hat behind the wooden door rack and stretched. His shows had already been discarded near the doormat as he made his way over to the bathroom, passing by the living room decorated with fairy lights and a blanket fort.
Wait a second, fairy lights and a fort?! Did he walk into the wrong house?
He came closer to the blankets sprawled across the floor, getting on his knees and picking one up to inspect it, not expecting you to be under it waiting for him.
“SURPRISE!”
You jumped out from under all of the pillows and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing kisses to his cheeks.
“What’s all this? Yer’ home early again?”
Garou questioned, a confused expression on his handsome face.
“A surprise for you, duh…”
He smirked and coyly slid his arms under your legs, picking you up and setting you down onto his lap.
“No, really? What’s the occasion?”
You gave him a look as if saying, 'seriously?’
“Well, I was walking home from work and I couldn’t take my usual route. I walked past a few shops and I saw you…working. I was so surprised…”
Your voice got quieter as it neared the end and you awkwardly twiddled your thumbs, eyes casted downwards.
“Garou, why…why didn’t you just tell me you got a job?”
Garou let out a huff and ran his fingers through your hair. He looked deep into your eyes and cast you a cute little blush.
“W-well, I know how ya’ kinda freak out when I do…anything so I didn’t say nothin’. I just wanted to help out, ya’ get so tired after comin’ home. I ain’t gonna sit around and watch ya’ work yer’ ass off for me…”
Your fingers gently caressed his face, bringing it closer to yours.
“Garou, the reason I’m so tired after coming home is because I’m still adjusting to my new post at the office. I got promoted and I promise, once I get the hang of it, I won’t be tired at all.”
Garou’s mouth enveloped yours in a sweet exchange, hands roaming your hips.
“I’m really proud of you though…”
Garou broke into a genuine smile, no teasing smirk or smug grin. A genuine stretch of his lips.
“And what do you mean I kind of freak out? I do not!”
You pouted on his lap, crossing your arms and looking to the side.
“Ya’ just planned a surprise for me…”
You blushed and pulled his cheeks.
“Hey, this doesn’t count!”
He chuckled and smirked as you climbed off of his lap and onto the ground below.
“Now take off your clothes and get in here!”
>>
The rest of the afternoon was spent in bliss under a large warm blanket. The two of you lovingly cuddling together, watching movies and talking about Garou’s new workmates.
“So, this Ibiki kid follows me around everywhere, it’s kinda annoying to be honest.”
You laughed at his statement and pointed a finger at his chest.
“Well, he probably likes you. You are very handsome…”
He smirked and gave you a suggestive look, pulling your body closer to his under the blanket.
“Too bad I’m not available, right?”
You giggled at his response, snuggling into his warmth.
“Yes, too bad indeed…”
Giving you one last loving look, Garou kissed you passionately, his fingers caressing your cheek. Your own hand laid gently on his cheek, lips tightly locked with his.
Separating, the two of you breathed heavily and smiled.
“I love you…”
Garou softly admitted, giving you another one of his glorious genuine grins.
You happily blushed, hugging him close and whispered.
“I love you too. So much…”
And with that Garou kissed you again, feverishly, pulling the blanket above your heads, ready to take you to heaven.
Fiesty grandpa 😏😏 but you and Garou are making a connection 🥰🥰 This is an excerpt from my fluffy GarouxReader 'Misunderstanding' that you can read here :)
“So, you’re the star pupil,” Grandpa appraises Garou while stealing all the pickles. He leans forward, lowering his voice: “But has he taught yer the secret technique yet?”
“Eh?” Garou looks from this white-bearded relic to Bang and back. “What’s he talking about?”
Bang’s eyes crease devilishly. He’s not saying anything.
“Mm. Maybe you’re not ready for it yet, boy,” Grandpa leans back in his chair.
“What technique?!” Garou is getting riled up now but Bang just smiles secretly.
“Don’t mind Grandpa,” you smile apologetically at Garou. “He’s always like that,” you mouth silently as Grandpa engages Bang in some long-winded story.
The way you’re smiling at him, your eyes looking straight into his...his free hand, that’s not piling on the meat onto his plate, clenches into a fist under the table. He can’t hold your gaze, turns away frowning.
“And so that’s why this granddaughter of mine, is going off to university next year, yessirree…”
“Huh?” You completely missed the conversation there.
“You’re eighteen! You should have been there this year!” Grandpa scolds affectionately.
“And who would look after you?” You’re exasperated. You’ve been through this many times.
“I don’t need no looking after!” he waves his arms around, the sake getting to him.
“Oh really? And why is it that we couldn’t come visit Uncle Bang for so long? Who was it that couldn’t even get on a train because of that bad back?”
“Nonsense!” Grandpa pounds the table. “No granddaughter of mine is going to stay home, wasting away her future when I’ll be in my cold, cold grave soon anyway! I’ll put myself in a home!” his nose growing red.
Why are feelings so confusing for Garou?? 🥺🥺 My fluffy GarouxReader ♥️'Misunderstanding'♥️is here :)
“Stop!” Bang calls out just as Garou is about to deliver the finishing blow. “This isn’t a fight to the death, boy!” he growls.
“Ho ho ho…!” Grandpa crows. “See, what did I tells you?! That boy…” he jabs his finger in Garou’s direction again.
“Grandpa!” you hiss, but you can’t take your eyes off Garou, his performance so extraordinary. You’ve never seen anyone move like that and so surely, so confidently! That is indeed one impressive young man.
He steps back in line, desperate to see if you’re looking at him but continues staring straight ahead like the well-trained martial artist he is, confused as to why he even cares what you think.
You’re well into your dinner in Bang’s old dining room. The house is big, aged but comfortable, welcoming.
“There he is!” Grandpa’s sudden yell makes you almost jump out of your seat. Garou, also completely taken by surprise almost jumps mid-step, swaggering into the dining room, having had no idea you’d be here.
He stands there, frozen, assessing the situation.
“Well, come sit down, boy, since you’re here!” Bang indicates to the empty chair across from you. Garou looks at you all suspiciously.
“That ain’t my seat,” he drawls.
“Am I in your place?” You ask, slightly embarrassed, about to get up but Bang motions for you stay where you are.
“Have some manners!” Bang’s voice has a sudden edge. There’s a testy moment but Garou capitulates and takes the seat opposite you.
This is one of my favourite GarouXReaders I've ever written 🥰🥰 It's soft and fluffy and romantically smutty at the end! Here is the very first part of 'Misunderstanding' and you can read the whole story here ♥️♥️
He’s sixteen the first time he sees you. It’s the very end of the summer holidays and he’s skulking around Uncle Bang’s house as you visit with your Grandpa Fujiwara.
He hears the greetings, the happy voices of people who haven’t seen each other in years, ringing out, watching, hiding behind the corner of the hallway.
“Ooh you were this high,” Bang levels his hand with his hunched hip, “when I last saw you [Your name]-chan!”
You turn and laugh, your face finally visible, your eyes bright, your laugh infectious. Garou can’t take his eyes off you.
“And how’s this old rascal of yours been keeping?” Bang nods in the direction of his old friend.
“You know, the same as always,” you smile, ignoring Grandpa’s heavily creased, thunderous eyes, his threatening fist to Bang.
“Who ya calling old, you old fart?!” He bellows at Bang.
“Grandpa, you ARE old,” you roll your laughing eyes.
“Come, come,” Bang ushers you two into the house while Garou slips silently out the back, missing his next words, inviting you two to stay tonight to watch the training and for dinner.
You’re seated politely at the back with Uncle Bang and Grandpa as Bang’s pupils file in, complete the customary greetings, bowing.
Garou sneaks a glance in your direction. There’s no mistake, your face is just as pretty as earlier today. He wouldn’t say he’s nervous but he starts to feel the blood pounding in his ears. Why are you here? And why are you watching?
Bang’s voice resounds authoritatively throughout this main training hall as he takes his students through their usual drills.
Just continuing 'Golden Hour', my domestic/fluffy/angsty ♥️GarouxReader♥️ (but written from Garou’s point of view). You can also read it on AO3 here :)
~*~
I lie awake the next morning, knowing I’ll have to get up soon. Really fuckin’ not wanting to.
The sun is just coming up, making itself known through the window. I hold up my hand and catch the light, as if I can hold it in my hand if I clench my fist hard enough.
When I open it, the mark on my hand stares back at me, barely visible anymore. I don’t know what the fuck my body is doing, but it seems to heal quicker and quicker which is not a bad thing.
I stare at that pale white mark across my palm and remember. I remember her hands closing around mine, the way she held it under the water, her fingertips tracing over my skin, and I feel this ache inside. This real deep ache that is nothing but fuckin’ pain and fuckin’ pleasure and I never knew the two could co-exist like that, so intimately.
I slow my mind down, replay everything in slow motion, will my body to remember how she felt standing so close, pressed against me, how her touch felt, the feel of her fingers, her hands…
Her hands, I’ve felt them all over, time and time again, and still…still it never fails to get to me. Every time I think I can keep my head, keep any semblance of self control, she’ll slip her hand under my shirt, playful teasing, runs it down my chest and I can’t fuckin’ think straight anymore. Her hands do the most wicked, the most sublime things to me. And just when I think I’m going to go completely mad, she’ll touch me somewhere I don’t expect and push me completely over that fuckin’ edge. And I’m in fucking ecstasy. Every time.
I open and close my hand slowly again in the intruding morning light, trying to hold on to the memory of her. But then the memory of what I did after interrupts. I go from feeling the bliss of her touch to the feeling of muscle and broken bone under my knuckles, a completely different type of satisfaction.
I should feel bad for enjoying it. A normal person would, I suppose. But I don’t. Every bruise, every scar, every bastard I leave spitting blood is like a step. And I climb higher and higher. Towards what? Towards forgetting. Towards becoming someone I’ve wanted to be for years. To justice. To make up for all the bullshit. Always aiming for the top of those stairs.
And then what?
I pause.
The answer seems fuckin’ obvious, doesn’t it? I’ll be at the fuckin’ top, ain’t I just said?
Yes, but then what? It says.
I scowl.
The higher they climb, the harder they fall, it whispers.
Fuck. That.
I ain’t ever planning on falling.
Time to get the fuck up. No use laying around indulging in all this goddamn philosophy. It ain’t gonna do anyone any good.
“Are you sure you’ll survive?” she asks, her small hand in my hair again as I stretch out on her couch later that evening, only at her urging and permission, telling me I look tired. I gotta lie and say it’s the old man, that he’s a slave driver, but really it’s because I ain’t hardly slept last night due to my outing. I ain’t ever felt bad lying before but now, I feel this stab in the back of my mind when the words, completely untrue, came out of my mouth.
“I guess we’ll see when you’re back,” I say, closing my eyes, savouring this moment. “If I've starved to death, you’ll have your answer.”
She does this smiling little tsk with her tongue.
“Well, I’ve shown you how to make two different meals now,” she says, one hand stroking my hair absentmindedly and her phone in the other as she scrolls through the weather forecast. “The rest is up to you Wolf Cub. Make me proud.”
I don’t know if I have or not. I try to. I try not to be a fuck up that she regrets taking a chance on, this whole situation was already so tenuous. I don’t know if she is proud and I ain’t too keen on asking in case the answer hurts a bit too much. But when we’re in public, she doesn’t walk a step away from me, she doesn’t pretend we hardly know each other. Lets me grab her hand and declare to every fuckin’ passerby, whether they care or not, that she’s mine. I mean…that it’s me and her. That this is a place no one is taking from me.
She’s leaving early tomorrow morning, coming back late Sunday night.
And it’s not like we’ve seen each other every day or the like, so it shouldn’t really bother me much but I find it does. She’s going to be fuck knows where, her house empty there. No light in the window. I don’t know. I feel stupid and sentimental for a few moments and then shake myself out of it.
“Keep a lookout and make sure this place doesn’t burn down, ok?” she says, still captivated by the screen of her phone, but her hand moves to my forehead now, lightly tracing, caressing, backs of her fingers gently down my cheek.
I don’t even know if she notices what she’s doing, still very busy with whatever she’s got going on her phone.
“If it does, you can come live with me,” I grin, already happily going down the route of my domestic fantasy.
“Haha,” she says, less than impressed, her fingers never stopping. “Do you even own a washing machine?”
“Good question,” I say.
Maybe I am just that stray cat to her, I think.
This touch, this tenderness, probably means absolutely nothing to her, the thought runs through my mind as I feel the warmth of her hand on my face.
I am just here to be fed and kept out of trouble. That is the best I’m gonna get. And that’s just how it is.
I am the stray cat.
Or I was, until the actual stray cat showed up.
The weekend passes uneventfully, meaning I won all the fights. Nothin’ exciting to report on that front.
I don’t bother her on the Monday because I’m sure she’s exhausted as is but on Tuesday she’s on my doorstep with a souvenir and then we’re eating together again and it seems like this is becoming a regular thing and I don’t know how it happened but I sure the fuck ain’t complaining, even if I’m the one doing most of the cookin’ while she sips wine and gives me instructions, telling me it’s life skills and for my own good. And she doesn’t have to tell me. I know being around her does more good for me than anythin’. More than any midnight bust up.
Then why can’t I stop doin’ that? Heading out in the middle of the night, like a fuckin’ addict.
I try not to think about it too much.
Winter has wrapped up and the days begin to get a little longer, golden hour coming later and later. I notice that kid sometimes, dawdling about on the street all alone. He’s already a fuckin’ dream target for any shitty little punk who wants to pick on him just by looks alone, but to be the new kid in the neighbourhood just pours salt on the wound I reckon. I find myself feelin’ a bit sorry for him. But at least I don’t see anyone botherin’ him outside of school anymore. In school, well, he’ll have to learn to take care of himself.
I make sure to stay out of his way but the next Sunday my curiosity gets the better of me.
I’m walkin’ back home, mid-afternoon, no need to know where from, when I find him on hands and knees, half under a parked car.
I should just carry on my sweet way but I don’t know what the hell he’s up to and whether it’s going to be safe to just leave him here like this, sprawled out on the road.
“Oi, kid,” I say, tilting my head to see if I can catch more of him under the car. “What the hell are you doin’?”
He scrambles to his feet, knees and hands covered in dirt.
“Uncle!” he says, all excitement. “Uncle! There’s a cat under there!”
Eh? Is that all? He got all scruffed up for a cat?
“So?” I say. “Just leave it alone. And I told you, don’t call me that.”
“But it looks bad and scared,” he says, not even realising he’s doin’ these big puppy eyes. “It keeps making noise and I can’t reach it. I think it’s lost.”
I find myself rubbing my forehead, in tiredness, in frustration. I just wanna go the fuck home.
“Uncle! Can you help me get it?” he says, tugging at the edge of my shirt. “Please.”
Goddamn kid.
And then we’re both on our hands and knees, under that car. And sure enough. There it is. But it ain’t a cat. It’s a kitten. This skinny, raggedy grey thing covered in dirt. It keeps squeaking and getting louder by the moment.
“Can you reach it?” Tareo asks.
Not a problem. I reach under there and scoop this ball of fur out. It’s smaller than my hand. Grey and shivering, big eyes not knowing where to look.
I hand it over to the kid.
“I think it’s sick,” he says, holding it close to his chest very carefully as it keeps mewling.
“Take it home,” I say, this thing no longer my problem, ready to walk away.
“I can’t,” he says, suddenly worried. “My mum says we can’t have pets. She doesn’t let cats and dogs in the house.”
And what part of that is my problem?
“Uncle,” he says, puppy eyes intensifying. “We can’t leave it here. I don’t want it to get more sick.”
Well, that’s just how it is, ain’t it? Natural selection and all. The world is a cruel place. I glance at the animal again.
“I ain’t taking it home,” I say firmly, starting back on my way.
“Uncle!” he’s a persistent little brat, running after me. “Uncle!”
“What?” I’m finding it hard to hide my displeasure now.
“I don’t want it to die,” he says and when I turn around I can see his lip quivering.
Fuck. This. Shit.
She opens her door and we all just stare at each other for a moment.
“Oh, hello,” she says, not quite knowing what to make of this.
“He found this thing,” I say, as Tareo holds the kitten up for her to see better.
“It was under a car,” he says, still full of concern. “And it keeps meowing. And it’s got a bit of fur missing here,” he turns it so she can see its side.
“Poor thing,” she says, suddenly as concerned as Tareo and she takes it carefully, gently from him. “Poor baby,” she strokes it under the chin. “Come on,” she beckons us inside.
“Here,” she hands the tiny thing back to me (why me?) and runs upstairs before coming quickly back down with a small box and a towel.
She kneels on the floor, Tareo beside her, as she folds the towel and places it in the box.
“Put it in here,” she motions to me.
I set it down slowly. I don’t like holdin’ it because it weighs basically nothing and it feels like I’m gonna break all its fragile little bones with one wrong move.
We all stare at the noisy thing for a moment.
“Is he going to be ok?” Tareo looks up at her, his lip quivering again.
To be honest, the cat doesn’t look good. It’s missing a bit of fur and it’s got a bit of matted blood on its front. Its eyes don’t look too good either and it’s howlin’ like it’s the end of the world.
She picks it up carefully again, turns it on its back.
“She,” she informs us. “It’s a she,” she gives Tareo a smile.
Oh.
“Is she going to die?” Tareo is almost in tears.
“No, no!” she rushes to reassure him. “We’ll take care of her. We’ll take her to the vet tomorrow and she’ll be fine.”
I get it. She’s lying a bit to him, but it’s the only right thing to do in this situation. We have no idea whether this scrawny thing will survive.
“I think she’s very hungry,” she says, giving it a gentle stroke behind the ear and the mewling quietens down for a moment.
“Will you keep her?” Tareo asks, now full of hope. “My mum says we can’t have cats or dogs in our house.”
I can see her bite her lip.
“I…can’t,” she says very apologetically and I can tell it’s pulling at her heartstrings because she’s fallen for this cat too. “My landlord doesn’t allow pets,” she says this looking right at me. And I feel the kid’s eyes boring right into my soul too.
“No,” I say, trying to axe their plan before they get any more ideas.
“Please Uncle!” Tareo grabs my arm. “Please! I don’t want her to go back out on the street.”
“Please Uncle,” she joins in, grabbing my other arm as they both harass me at once, making those big eyes at me.
What the fuck am I gonna do with a fuckin’ cat?
No. That’s final.
“Please Uncle,” Tareo pulls at me. I look at him. His puppy face has no effect on me. I look at the cat, its big eyes, the desperate pathetic noises it makes.
“You can just take it to the shelter or whatever,” I say, getting impatient.
“I suppose that’s true,” she says, letting go of me. But I can sense the sadness in her voice. “That would be the most logical thing to do.”
“But what if no one adopts her?” Tareo frets.
“I’m sure she’ll get adopted really quick,” she says, putting on a bright smile. “She’s so cute. Once they treat her and feed her a bit she’ll look stunning.”
I stop listening to them. Look at the cat again, hungry and probably scared out of its wits.
No.
Don’t even think about it.
“Fine,” I hear myself growl.
“What?” she says, turning away from Tareo.
“I’ll fuckin’ take it,” I say.
And I ain’t ever seen that kid so happy before.
“She’s probably very hungry and thirsty,” she says, “so we’ll go buy her some kitten food and try get her to eat. Why don’t you come over just before dinner if you want to see her again?” she suggests kindly to Tareo.
“Can I?” He almost jumps up.
“Of course! I’m sure she’d like to see her rescuer again,” she says.
“Uncle helped me,” Tareo admits. “I couldn’t reach. Uncle got her out for me.”
“Well, I’m sure she’s glad to have both of you,” she looks up at me and Tareo and he looks so damn chuffed with himself.
“We’ll take her to the vet tomorrow evening,” she tells Tareo then turns to me. “My friend’s sister is a vet nurse so we can pop by straight after work. I’m sure it will be ok. I’ll give her a call later.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, fuckin’ regretting opening my mouth.
“Ok, we’ll just leave her here for a bit, give her time to settle, and go get some food. Please come by later,” she smiles at Tareo as she gets up off the floor and goes to get her jacket.
“Can we call her Tatsumaki?” Tareo is way too fired up.
“Oh, who’s that?” she asks.
“She’s a superhero and she’s so cool!” Tareo says.
“No,” I say. I fuckin’ hate superheroes and all that shit.
“What do you want to call her, then?” she asks, pulling her jacket on.
“Don’t care,” I say. But not any goddamn superhero names.
There’s a thoughtful silence.
“What about Delilah?” she finally says.
“Eh?” Where did that come from?
“What’s that?” Tareo asks.
She looks at me. “You know, like the Queen song!”
“Eh?” I repeat.
“You know…Queen, the band?” She looks curiously at me.
“Eh?”
“Oh come on! We will, we will rock you…” she says and claps her hands at the end in this catchy rhythm. “Never mind,” she finally mutters. “I’m just old. My parents used to listen to Queen all the time. It grew on me, I guess. I just thought it would be cute. It’s about Freddie Mercury’s cat.”
“Who?” What is she talking about?
“Is that a superhero?” Tareo asks, full of curiosity.
“Who?”
“Freddie Mercury.”
“No, he’s a singer.”
“Oh, his name sounds like a superhero name.”
She giggles at this.
“Ok, fine, whatever,” I give up. “Call her whatever.”
“So you’re ok with Delilah?”
“Whatever,” I say again, driving the point home.
We leave the cat to its own devices and Tareo rushes home.
“Remind me to show you Queen live at Wembley on YouTube later,” she says as she locks the door. “God, I wish I was alive back then…”
“She’s eating!” Tareo is practically ecstatic later that evening when he comes by again. If I get to be here too because of the cat, I’ll let it slide. “Look, she’s eating!”
“Yeah,” she says as she nudges the saucer closer to the scrawny cat. “She’s probably not even eight weeks yet. She can’t eat solid food so we soak her kitten biscuits in pet milk. That way it’s easy for her to eat.”
The little cat looks ravenous. Keeps wolfing it all down, like it hasn’t eaten for days, and it probably hasn’t.
“I think she’ll be ok,” she says. “Won’t you, little Delilah?” she says, caressing her bony back. “We’ll get you back in shape in no time.”
She looks up at Tareo to reassure him as we all sit around this tiny thing.
“If she was really sick, she probably wouldn’t be able to or want to eat,” she says. “But she looks like she’s got a good appetite so that’s a really good sign!”
Tareo is positively glowing.
“I’ll keep her overnight,” she says to me, “and then after tomorrow she’s all yours.”
“Fantastic,” I roll my eyes.
“Uncle!” Tareo says, “Can I come visit her?”
I’m about to say no, but then she gives me a look and I say, “We’ll see.”
It’s the best I can do.
“She ate some more last night and this morning,” she says to me as we walk to the train station, her holding the small box carefully, its cardboard lid on top with a few small holes. Sometimes a tiny grey nose pokes out of one of them and sniffs the air. It’s probably curious about all the new smells.
The vet is in the suburbs and we gotta ride at least a few stops there.
It’s still rush hour and the train is fuckin’ packed. So we stand as she holds the box protectively between us, trying her best to not get crushed and when we stop and the crowd heaves as people get on and off I get to put my arm around her waist to steady her since her hands are busy, and it’s all good because it’s all in the name of protecting this cat. At least I’m getting some use out of it.
I can hear the faint meowing again and suddenly the lid lifts up a bit and half a scruffy head pokes through, yellow eyes peering right up at me, the edge of the box almost against my chest. I grimace back at it.
“I think she likes you,” she says, giving me a gorgeous smile.
Well, if it’s true, and it ain’t, this cat’ll be the first. No one fuckin’ likes me. And I’m fine with that. Almost.
The train moves off again and the cat stumbles back into the box as I grab her waist again before she bumps into more people.
In the end, this ain’t too bad.
We walk a bit from the train station and this area I gotta say is pretty nice. Not fuckin’ rich nice. Just wholesome neighbourhood nice. Disgusting nice.
I pull open the door and let her in first.
This place smells…strange. Like antiseptic and somethin’ else.
“Hi! Long time no see!” a woman comes out from a door behind the reception.
“You too!” she says, setting the box down on the counter. “I hope we’re not bothering!”
“No, no!” the woman in uniform says as she gets behind the computer. “We’re just closing up for the night so we’ll keep your kitten overnight and have a look at her tomorrow morning. Is that fine?”
“Yes, that’s totally fine,” she says.
“I just need to grab your details,” the one who I presume is the nurse or whatever says. “What’s the cat’s name?”
“Delilah,” she says as the lid begins to lift again and the tiny whiskers appear.
“Cute! Like the Queen song!”
“See,” she turns to me. “She knows what’s up,” she gives me a triumphant look.
“Ok, and I’ll need your address and phone number,” the nurse says as her fingers fly over the keyboard.
“Oh, it’s his cat,” she says, grabbing the sleeve of my jacket and pulling me closer to them.
Why the fuck did I agree to this?
“I’ll pick her up though,” she says. “I’ll be out of the office for a meeting anyway so I don’t mind. It will be on my way home. You don’t know what time you’ll be home tomorrow will you?” she asks over her shoulder now that I’ve moved back again.
“Not a clue,” I say.
“Yeah, so I’ll pick Delilah up.”
The nurse finally opens the box and takes out this little runt.
“Aw, poor darling, Look at you. We’ll get you all cleaned up. What happened?”
“They say they found her crying her little eyes out under a car,” she says.
I don’t remember saying any such thing, so I just stand there and grit my teeth.
“She’s been eating though,” she tells her sister’s friend.
“That’s great,” the acquaintance replies. “We’ll give her a thorough check tomorrow and get her all cleaned up.”
She puts the kitten carefully back in the box and the meowing starts again.
They say their goodbyes and we leave.
And I wonder where they’re putting my cat, all alone, for the whole night.
The crowd has thinned out by the time we get back on the train and we actually get to sit down.
"I'll pay for Delilah," she says, and before I can say anything back she adds, "I mean, Tareo and I basically forced her on you so…"
And that's not a lie.
"But you're paying for her after that."
"Eh? For what?"
"For when you take her back in a couple of months. Or do you want more little cats to look after?" She raises her eyebrow at me.
It's just one damn hassle after another, ain't it.
We sit in silence for a bit as the train stops and people get on and off.
"You're very kind, you know," she says with quiet affection.
I can't look back at her. She said that. When I took her to bed she had said that. I thought she hadn't remembered, said it half asleep and forgotten all about it. But she says it in the same way and I can't look at her.
I feel my arms cross over my chest, I don't even think about doing it. Just happens. And the tension in my jaw as I turn away, scowling again.
But then I feel her fingers on my cheek, turning my face back towards her and I'm forced to look into her beautiful shining eyes.
"And you're not as scary as you think," she teases.
And for a moment, it's only me and her on the train. And the rest of the world falls away.
These moments. I'm building a fuckin' whole collection of them and I have no idea what to do with them. I feel them tear at me on the inside.
She lets go softly.
"You were supposed to show me Queen at some stadium or something," I say, feeling my fangs baring despite myself. Not at her. At the situation. At not having her. At having her so close and not having her.
"Why didn't you tell me yesterday!" She slaps my arm. "I told you to remind me!"
Nah, everyone was too taken with the cat yesterday.
"I'm reminding you, ain't I?" I grumble.
"How about we go get some sushi and I'll show you the best live music performance you'll ever see in your life," she says, completely unphased by my frustration.
And we do just that.
Because I can't say no. I don't want to say no. Because with her, no doesn't exist.
