ONESHOTS ⊳ gavin reed x reader

[Pillow Forts]

Requested by @yeetthatshit69
In which you spend a quiet night in with Gavin. Includes movies and pillow forts.

The red, sqared letters on the nightstand illuminated his expression, drawing crimson shadows over his lips and nose. Everything about Gavin—his breaths, his blinks, his subtle movements— they all alluded to tranquility, languidness. The detective was staring at the ceiling as if it were the most mesmerizing thing in the world. He took in every little imperfection, crack and shadow on it, yet failed to tell why exactly it was this...interesting to look at. Perhaps it reminded him of a blank sheet, and alluded to the spaciousness he needed for his thoughts. Not too distracting, but not too perfect either. The ceiling of his apartment as he lied in bed.

Gavin thought about a lot of things, his thoughts connected like Christmas lights. One thing leading to the next. And so his mind began overflowing with different concepts, feelings, or memories, all of them somehow loosely connected in a way he didn't try to understand.

He lost track of time after a while. Didn't bother looking at the alarm clock, mainly because of her, rested in his arms. He didn't dare move, aside from breathing, too scared to disturb (y/n) in her sleep.

So Gavin returned to thinking. He thought of Elijah, for some reason, then his mother, who had become a full-fledged cat lady during the past decade, then, of his own cat. He started wondering if he'd become a cat...guy, or cat dude (or whatever the gender-appropriate term was) if (y/n) were to leave him. How many cats would he even adopt? Two? Three? Five? Perhaps even try to rival his mother's impressive number of 12? How would he even come up with that many names? Search them online or come up with them himself? Coming up with names was tedious. But then again, picking one from the internet felt somewhat...unsatisfactory and unoriginal. Damnit was a good name, that's why he had given her it. Would he name all his cats after swearwords? It had a meaning in Dammit's case. It was the only word she seemed to understand. Any other profanity just flew by her. But damnit? As soon as Gavin would say that in just the right tone, she'd stop whatever she was doing, and give him a guilty look. Speak of the devil.

The door opened in the slightest as Damnit had nudged it with the side of her head. Like a shadow creeping over to his bed, Gavin only saw the animal once it had jumped onto the bed, on top of the blankets, padding up to Gavin.

"Damnit, Damnit!" He whisper-shouted, trying his best not to wake her up. The cat seemed to be fully aware of his incapacitated state and nestled against (y/n). Gavin could've sworn she had almost smiled smugly at him.

"You've been at it for like...what, an hour now?" (Y/n) asked, and he flinched at the proximity of her voice to his clavicle.

"What exactly?" Gavin asked almost guiltily, watching (y/n) as she cupped Damnit's face, then gave her nose a boop.

"Staring at the ceiling." She concluded. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing." He lied. Because it was rather dumb to admit he had been thinking about becoming the male version of a cat lady.

"You know you can tell me if something's not okay." (Y/n) insisted, and Gavin couldn't help but lean down to peck her lips, his chest feeling as if it were about to explode with affection. God, what would he even do without her?

"Everything's fine."

"Just can't sleep again?" She asked and cuddled up against him further, going as far as lazily slinging one leg over his hips.

"Yeah." Gavin answered, setting his hand on the top of her thigh and drawing little circles on the naked skin with his thumb. "How'd you know I've been up for an hour?"