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courtingchaos · 5 months ago

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Crosstalk

Undesired signal leakage from one sound channel or track to another.

Playlist (if you wanna play along at home.)

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Prompt: Eddie - I really like the idea of making him a naughty tape full of audio recordings of you playing with yourself for when he's out of town and you can't be together for a few days. But it's a surprise so you pass it off as a regular old mixtape and he doesn't suspect a thing until the first two songs end and then the real stuff starts.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Masturbation, reader tattoo mention

A/N: I have a list in my notes of prompts and I don’t remember what ask this one came from originally so apologies for that.

18+ NSFW No Minors

Eddie digs through the bag he hastily packed that morning while the phone sits tucked between his cheek and his shoulder. “What kind of surprise is it? When did you even get it in here? Is it dirty?” He gasps into the receiver. He can feel you swatting his arm even from four hours away.

“It’s nothing wild, it’s just-“

His fingers close around something almost buried to the bottom and he fishes it out, slick plastic cassette case gleaming in the low motel light. “Did you make me a mixtape?”

“I told you it wasn’t anything wild.”

He knows you’re twirling your finger through the phone cord, your chin probably tucked into your collar in mild embarrassment.

“I love it.”

“Don’t uh, don’t go playing it for the guys though.”

“Oh so it is dirty.”

“No, I just don’t want them making fun of me for putting Linda Ronstadt on there three times.”

“Three? What are you, breaking up with me via music?” Eddie teases you while he reads the insert you lovingly wrote on, little hearts in the corners beside the 10 track listing.

“No! She’s just got a way with the language of love!” You whine into the phone and Eddie laughs.

“Okay, okay. I’ll keep it all to myself. Gives me something to listen to while I fall asleep.” Behind him the shower cuts off and he knows Gareth will be out to finish his tangent on getting bullied out of his terrible pizza toppings. “You gonna be okay if I let you go?”

“I won’t cry myself to sleep if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh shut up, I know you walk that widows peak night and day awaiting my return from…Detroit.”

“I don’t waste my time like that. I know you’re up to your armpits in groupies.”

Eddie looks around the old motel room and scoffs. “If you think four nerds are pulling groupies in the kind of room we have, I have a river to sell you.”

After saying goodnight five times and you finally hanging up on him being sappy he flings himself into the bathroom after Gareth and before Jeff and Frank get back with food. Four straight hours in a car with three other men makes him want to crawl out of skin so he watches the steam roll out from the behind the shower curtain with anticipation. Almost scalding water leaves red marks over his shoulders and down his chest, enough to make him feel clean again while he rinses his hair. He can hear muffled voices from the other side of the thin bathroom door and knows he’s been relegated to the small couch in their room.

“You know, it’d be nice to get the bed once in a while.” He says when he exits the bathroom and snatches two slices from the open box on the single king bed.

“If you didn’t try to spoon all of us we would.”

“Oh what, you bothered by a little cuddling?”

Gareth glares at Eddie hard and Jeff cracks up at the deep breath he takes in. “If it was just cuddling I wouldn’t think anything of it, but you turn into the world��s only land octopus! I’ve never been so sweaty in my life! I don’t know how your girl puts up with it, you’re a fucking radiator!”

“This is why I always take the cot.” Frank singsongs from said cot while watching the local news.

The bickering continues as Eddie makes his temporary bed on the too hard, too small couch and finally ends when Jeff just shuts off the lights. “I need everyone to shut the fuck up for the next five hours okay?”

Eddie only hums and fishes around for his headphones, cassette player tucked up under the blanket with him. With the tv flashing across the walls Eddie starts to drift off to the slow beat of “Blue Bayou”, a soft chuckle for your choice of intro, and by the end of it he’s almost out when he hears your voice.

“Okay, so uhm, this is actually your final warning to stop playing this for everyone because you never listen to me so I’m trying to save us both some face you ratfink.”

His eyes snap open in the dark and he pulls the player out from under the covers like it’ll tell him what’s going on.

“I’m pretty sure you’ll listen to me this time though if I put a warning on your mixtape.”

He slaps around beside him on the floor for the case and squints at it in the flashing tv lights to see if you wrote something he missed.

“Anyways though, I do miss you and I hope your show goes well. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there but there’s never much room in those motels, huh?”

He can tell you moved around while recording, the bumping of the tape deck clacking in his ears. He’s glad it’s dark so none of the guys give him shit for the blush he knows is dusting his cheeks.

“Hell, one day soon you’ll get your own room and then I can come out and I don’t have to do sappy shit like this.”

The recording cuts and jumps to Carly Simon’s “You Belong to Me” and Eddie can’t help but laugh and feel hollow at the same time. As small as this couch is it would be nice to feel your weight on top of him, your head smushed in next to his sharing headphones that might snap from overextension. The song cuts off a few notes early to shuffling sounds and then your strained voice.

“This is really hard to do one handed, I won’t lie, but I wasn’t just gonna whisper sweet nothings to you.”

One handed? He can barely make out your breathing but he can hear the gasp alongside your light laughter.

“I don’t know if you know this, and if you don’t I’m sure I’m just inflating your ego but-“

The long sigh that follows finally jogs his tired brain and keys him into what’s happening. He whips his head to the side to see the sleeping forms of the other three before he sits up and pays closer attention.

“You have amazing hands Eddie, and it isn’t just-ohhh-it isn’t just the guitar playing you know? You know just where that spot is. I think your fingers are longer, I don’t know.”

Suddenly Bonnie Raitt is in his ear and he’s fumbling for the buttons on the side of the player to fast forward because while he appreciates your mixtape skills, now is not the fucking time. You would make him wait through three more songs before he accidentally runs into the middle of your recording, a thin moan of his name that makes him stand and head for the bathroom.

“-and I just miss you a lot and you’ve only been gone f-for what, a day by the time you get this?”

His lighter clicks in the dark while juggles the tape player and his pack of cigarettes.

“You actually just left my place. We had dinner and I told you I wouldn’t fuck you because it’s like good luck or some shit. I heard boxers do it like that.”

You have a remarkable way of running your mouth while otherwise occupied, thoughts that zip between moans and even he has a hard time keeping up. In the bathroom he cracks the small window so he doesn’t set the smoke detector off and then locks the door behind him before turning the shower on full blast. When he finally sits on the edge of the tub he expects a little more from you before Bill Withers starts singing about missing sunshine and he has to fast forward again.

“You’d think I’d be a little embarrassed to do this but actually it’s-fuck-it’s kind of easier to rec-“

Eddie sucks on his cigarette until the cherry burns bright red and his lungs start screaming, the cut off voice in his ears lending to quiet sounds of your hand working fast to make your breath jump in your chest. He thinks about you probably laying on the floor of your tiny studio, right at the foot of your bed with that big boombox next to your head set to record. That pillow that’s too big for your tiny couch, the one that got relegated to a ‘floor pillow’, stuffed behind your head while your toes catch on the edge of your green rug as you try to brace yourself.

Eddie sits on the edge of the tub and breathes in his own exhaled smoke and chews on his lip till it goes almost numb. Sits there and listens to your gasps and whimpers, the far off wet slick of your fingers moving faster.

“You’d think…I was making you…a tape to send you off to war.” Your laugh is light, forced air before it chokes off on his name and he slides down to the cold tile floor. Cigarette tossed into the tub behind his head, he’ll fish the butt out of the drain when he’s done listening to your voice.

“Barely a long weekend and-and-ah shit!”

You’ve tranced him, hardly notices the dig of the tile against his bare skin, doesn’t give a shit that this floor is dirtier than he can imagine probably. He lets his vision fuzz with the steam filling the small bathroom so he can focus on your voice and try to picture you laid out in front of him. It’s just another lazy afternoon, weed haze ringing your apartment while he watches you from across the room.

“I miss you when you’re gone. It’s only four days but I miss you Eddie.”

Sitting on that tiny couch and mesmerized by the dance of your fingers over your own skin. Nails press lightly into lines of ink to trail up your thigh and over your hip, to press into the softness of your belly. You’d hold his gaze the whole time like a dare while your other hand kneaded at your chest. When those adventuring fingers finally dip between your thighs and you sigh so light, Eddie follows suit.

Through the headphones he can hear you closer now like your lips were pressed to his ear. Heavy pants and no more words, just breathing that stutters and climbs in pitch. He wastes no romance on himself, not here in this cramped bathroom, not when he can almost feel your breath hot and damp against his neck. With every hitch of your voice he speeds his hand up, didn’t even bother pulling his shorts down all the way. In his imagination you give him a chastising smile for it before your reddened eyes roll back into your skull on a moan and he uses both hands now, just like you would.

The next song started and ended maybe but his hair clings to him in the steam and his sweat. There’s a chord change he thinks that proceeds his stomach clenching and his thighs aching before it all cuts off with your loud moan. You must have slapped at the player too late, not catching all of your agonies for him. Not everything, sure, but the important part is there. Your voice chanting low as your pleasure ebbs, his name over and over until you giggle and gasp.

Soft hands, phantom and damp with arousal and sweat cup his face when he cums, the heel of his palm shoved into his mouth to stifle the high noises trying to escape his throat. The track clicks again back to music and it isn’t until Eddie hears Peter Frampton that he starts to crash back into reality.

“If I know you like I think I do, I’m sure you’re rolling your eyes at me.” You giggle again at the end of the cassette, satiated and melancholy. “I just wanted you to have a little something, though I am sorry I buried it all in some of the best love songs ever written.”

You leave him with an I love you and another I miss you and a little bit of a mess to clean up. In twenty minutes though, when he’s back on the couch having evaded being caught and sucking down another smoke, he falls asleep and dreams about that hazy afternoon he intends to give you when he gets home.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson Smut #Eddie Munson Fluff #My Fic #My Work

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hoshifighting · 5 months ago

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— Synopsis: Jihoon, a shy guy, really wants to talk to you一the new pretty neighbor一but finds it a difficult mission. To help him out, he send his robot friend, Beep Boop, to make the connection as he watches through his window. Surprisingly, you adored Beep Boop, and his creator, Jihoon. — WC: 3.3k — WARNINGS: Fluff, social anxiety, isolation, potential overthinking, Beep Boop is a great buddy! [Issue Club Serie] — This is part 1 of Shy!Woozi. Check the Part 2

Jihoon stretched out on the bed, hearing the telltale beep of a reversing truck. The driver seemed less than careful, and the sound grated on Jihoon's nerves, pulling him out of his drowsy state. With a sigh, he finally opened the window, curious to see what the commotion was about. His eyes widened in surprise when he noticed the window next door, previously closed for months, was now open. A moving truck was pulling away, leaving behind an air of change.

Jihoon’s mind wandered back to the previous resident, Miss Kim, who used to play the piano beautifully. He remembered the rainy nights when he was alone at home and Ahjussi would bring him kimchi, the warm, spicy smell filling the room. It had been a shame to see Ahjussi move to the countryside.

Curious about the new occupants, Jihoon went about his day, keeping an eye on the movement next door. The cool day felt refreshing, and the sunlight streaming through his window warmed his room. He picked up a poetry book, one he had started but never finished, and sat on his soft bed, losing track of time as he leafed through the pages.

Before he knew it, he was holding the last page of the book. "Yeah, it looks like I'm going to have to read it all again," he murmured to himself. Why were poetry books always so short? He didn't even understand most of what he had read.

But he knew the reason for his distraction. The open window in his room gave a clear view of the house next door. He could see newspapers scattered on the floor, evidence of a fresh start, and a newly painted wall. And then, there was you.

Your hair fell insistently over your face as you painted, your hands methodically rolling the paint onto the wall. Jihoon watched, intrigued. You seemed so focused, so immersed in your task.

Jihoon bit his lip, the internal struggle playing out on his face. Should he say something? Should he offer you help? From his window, you could clearly see or hear him if he did. He wished he had more social skills, the confidence to simply say, 'Hi, if you need help, I'm Jihoon, your new neighbor.' But no, striking up a conversation with someone he had never seen before, especially a girl, felt impossible. What if you thought he was weird? Or worse, what if you thought he was coming on too strong?

Feeling stupid for not being able to start a simple conversation, he sighed. After all, the architecture of the old houses in this neighborhood meant the windows were ridiculously large. You could see practically everything in your neighbor's life if you didn't have good curtains.

Jihoon was pulled out of his self-banter when you turned around, facing his window. He quickly hid himself against the wall, leaving your line of sight. You frowned, confused, then resumed your painting. But in his hasty movement, Jihoon noticed a treasure—his robot, a project he had worked on for college. A big friend that could help him interact with his new neighbor, at least as a conversation starter.

Meanwhile, you were in the kitchen, putting supplies on the counter, when you heard a bell—not your doorbell, but some kind of chime. You frowned and opened your front door, only to be met by a robot with a humanoid shape, dressed in a big pink hoodie. Instead of a head, it had a large tablet displaying cute, animated emotions.

You looked around, unsure if you should talk to this... thing, or if it might explode if you said a word. Tentatively, you spoke, "Hi, big friend... how can I help you?"

The screen on the robot’s head displayed the word 'Welcome' and then a cute basket extended from its torso. Hesitant, you picked it up. As soon as you did, the robot turned around and rolled away on its wheels, heading towards the sidewalk. You stood there, paralyzed in your doorway, clutching the basket and trying to make sense of what had just happened.

"Um, thank you?" you called after it, not knowing if it could hear you.

The basket was filled with cookies一cookies that you can easily find in the market, but the intention is cute一, a small note tucked among them. You opened the note, which read:

"Hi! I'm your neighbor. I hope you enjoy these cookies. Welcome to the neighborhood! - Jihoon"

Jihoon doesn't know how many times he wrote and rewrote this, trying to make it beautiful and presentable for you to read.

You looked back at the robot, now waiting patiently at the sidewalk. Smiling to yourself, you felt a warm sense of welcome.

Back in his room, Jihoon watched anxiously from the window, biting his lip again. This time, though, it was out of nervous anticipation. He saw you reading the note and, after a moment, a smile spread across your face. He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, feeling a bit of the tension ease from his shoulders.

Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all.

The house was coming together nicely, and installing a few essentials was a breeze. Some furniture would come with time, but you had to admit, you were struggling to put together this wooden bench for your backyard. The sun was beating down on your skin, and you had already rebuilt the bench a couple of times, each time more frustrating than the last.

Beep beep

You heard the now-familiar sound. Glancing up, you saw the robot again, its tablet head showing a curious expression. You scoffed, feeling almost embarrassed that even the robot was witnessing your struggle with the instruction manual.

Before you could say anything, the screen changed, displaying a tutorial on how to assemble the exact wooden bench. You couldn't help but laugh.

"Wow, this would help a lot. Thanks, buddy," you said, genuinely appreciative. But then you glanced up at the scorching sun. "But the sun is brutal today. I hope you don't overheat or something."

You quickly opened the umbrella and positioned it over the robot, casting a nice shadow. "There you go, some shade for you. Now, let's get this bench sorted out."

Following the tutorial step by step, you began assembling the bench correctly this time. The robot beeped encouragingly, its screen displaying a thumbs-up emoji.

"Okay, piece A connects to piece B, and then this screw goes here..." you muttered to yourself, feeling more confident with each step. "This is actually going pretty well."

The robot beeped again, displaying a smiley face.

"Thanks for the help. I don't know what I'd do without you," you said, wiping some sweat from your forehead. "I guess I should also thank Jihoon, right? He really knows how to make a good first impression."

The robot nodded, or at least it looked like a nod, with the screen displaying an animated head bobbing up and down.

You laughed again, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie with the machine. "Tell Jihoon I said thanks, okay?"

The robot beeped once more, its screen now displaying a "You're Welcome" message before it turned and rolled back towards Jihoon's house.

You wondered who was controlling this super kind robot. Jihoon must have seen you struggling with the bench all morning and sent the robot to help. You chuckled at the thought; he probably wasn't the best with assemblies himself. But it was endearing how you found yourself listening attentively to the robot, even asking if it could replay part of the video. When Jihoon replayed the part, your impressed face was priceless. You couldn't help but laugh at yourself, and Jihoon laughed too, watching from his window.

The umbrella part? That was pure instinct. You just didn't want the poor robot to overheat in the sun. Jihoon found that incredibly thoughtful. He mused that it was something only a woman would think of, a gentle touch he always admired. He wondered if you would do the same for him, considering his pale skin burned easily under the sun, but he brushed the thought aside, not wanting to dwell on it.

Days passed, and you missed your robot friend. After a particularly rough week, you found yourself sitting in your front yard, on your now fully assembled bench, drinking a cola. The night was calm, the neighborhood quiet. Then you saw it—a cute pixeled face approaching.

Beep beep, it sounded.

You couldn't help but smile. Tonight, the robot was dressed in a tiny blazer with a red tie.

You laughed, "Well, don't you look elegant tonight! Any special occasion?"

"I'm curious to know the person behind you, buddy," you continued, "all dressed up and everything."

To your amazement, the robot spoke. With a robotic yet clear voice, it said, "Hello, I am here to keep you company. Jihoon thought you might like that."

Your eyes widened in surprise.

"You can talk!" you exclaimed, still processing the surprise.

“Yes, technology is getting scary, isn’t it?” the robot replied in a robotic voice, but with a hint of playfulness.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re too cute to be scary. I think you need a name.”

The robot made a giggling sound, a funny robotized laugh that made you chuckle.

“How about… Beep Boop?” You suggest.

“Beep Boop,” the robot repeated, its screen showing a happy face. “I like it.”

As you sat on the bench with Beep Boop, you couldn't help but wonder. "So, Beep Boop, why did Jihoon send you to talk to me?"

Beep Boop's screen flashed a thoughtful emoji before responding. "Jihoon thinks you look cool. But... he's weird."

You frowned, tilting your head slightly. "Weird? How so?"

Jihoon, watching through the robot's camera, felt a sense of anxiety.

Beep Boop continued, "He finds it hard to talk to people. Especially girls."

Your expression softened. "Oh, I see. Well, everyone has their quirks. He's kind to send you over, though."

Beep Boop's screen displayed a nodding emoji. "Jihoon says he likes watching you build things. He thought you might need a friend."

You smiled, feeling empathy. "That's really sweet of him. You can tell him he can come over whenever he feels ready. I'm not the type of person who's going to judge."

Jihoon, on the other end, felt a rush of relief.

"Do you think Jihoon likes cola?" you asked.

"Yes, Jihoon likes cola," Beep Boop replied.

You stood up, grabbing a plastic bag from inside and placing a few cans of cola in it. Tying the bag to Beep Boop, you patted the robot's head. "Here, take these to him. Maybe it'll help him feel more comfortable."

"Thank you," Beep Boop said, the screen displaying a happy face.

"You're welcome, Beep Boop. Tell Jihoon I appreciate him sending you over and that he can come by anytime."

As Beep Boop rolled away with the bag of cola, you watched with a smile.

[...]

You affirmed that everything was fine, but a part of you couldn't help but find the whole "Beep Boop" thing slightly funny. But honestly, you found the idea rather adorable. It was intelligent of him to create such a robot—amazing, actually.

Even though you hadn't seen Jihoon face-to-face, you thought he was pretty cool. From the glimpses you'd caught of him through the window, he looked quite handsome. And through Beep Boop, you learned that he liked music, had finished college, and worked remotely, which explained why he rarely left his house.

On the other side, Jihoon had been mentally preparing himself. You had been so kind with Beep Boop, and he couldn't imagine you hurting a mosquito. You were careful with the robot, even hugged it sometimes, and the little pats on its electronic head and the goodies you sent through it—Jihoon appreciated every gesture.

Why should he hide himself any longer?

He saw you arriving home today, your bag slung over your shoulder as you entered your house. He waited for a moment, then saw you in your bedroom after your bath. Breathing deeply, he opened his window.

"Psst!" he called out, trying to get your attention.

You turned towards his window, seeing Jihoon there, ready to talk, for the first time. His skin glowed softly under the moonlight, his blonde hair swaying gently in the breeze. His elbows rested on the windowsill, and you noticed his cheeks were blushing. You smiled and approached your window, leaning on it.

"Jihoon?" you asked, and he nodded shyly.

"Nice to meet you, Jihoon," you said, tilting your head.

Jihoon's feet were shaking anxiously where you couldn't see, but he managed to speak. "I, um, wanted to say hi in person. You've been really nice to Beep Boop and... and me."

You chuckled softly. "It's nice to finally meet the person behind Beep Boop. You're pretty amazing, you know? Creating such a robot."

Jihoon blushed deeper. “I hope Beep Boop wasn’t too weird. I just... I didn’t know how to introduce myself.”

“Beep Boop was great. Very helpful, actually. And pretty entertaining.”

"Thank you. It was a college project, but I'm glad it's been useful. I just wanted to make things a bit easier. And maybe... I thought it would be a way to talk to you.”

You both lapsed into a comfortable silence, just looking at each other. Jihoon started to feel the anxiety creep back in, wondering if he should close the window and hide away again. But then you broke the silence.

“You’re so pretty, Jihoon,” you said softly.

Jihoon’s eyes widened in surprise, his heart skipping a beat. “R-really? Thank you. You’re... you’re pretty too.”

You smiled warmly, feeling a flutter in your chest. "You know, you can come over anytime. You don't have to send Beep Boop every time. I promise I don't bite."

Jihoon laughed nervously. "I’ll keep that in mind. And thank you for the cola. It was really thoughtful."

"You're welcome," you said, your smile widening. "It's the least I could do for my new friend."

Jihoon’s heart swelled with warmth. He felt a sense of relief and happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. "I'm glad we're friends."

"Me too," you replied, feeling the same warmth. "Goodnight, Jihoon."

"Goodnight," he said, and as he closed his window, he couldn't stop smiling.

You watched him disappear behind the curtains, and you were happy that he felt comfortable talking with you, even if it was only for a few minutes.

You decided to take things slow, making sure Jihoon never felt pressured. The next day, as you watered your plants in the garden, Beep Boop appeared once again. Seeing an opportunity, you approached the robot with a smile.

"Hey, Beep Boop," you said warmly, "can you tell Jihoon something for me?"

Beep Boop's screen displayed a curious emoji. "Sure, what do you want me to tell him?"

You leaned in a bit closer, knowing Jihoon was likely watching through the camera. "Give him my number," you said, reciting it carefully. "Tell him he can text me anytime."

Beep Boop's screen showed a thumbs-up emoji, and you glanced up at Jihoon's window, giving a thumbs-up yourself. Almost immediately, you felt your phone buzz with a notification. Smiling to yourself, you knew it was Jihoon.

From that point on, you made an effort to bring out the best in Jihoon, genuinely wanting to hear more about him. The idea turned out to be a great success. Jihoon slowly began opening up, and now he would even give you a good morning through the window when you both opened the wooden shutters at the same time.

Of course, it took courage for Jihoon to start with the Beep Boop thing, but your kindness had helped him more than he could ever express. Now, you found yourselves often in each other's company, albeit separated by the window.

Today, you were reading a book while Jihoon wrote letters for his songs. You both leaned on your respective windows, the quiet filled with the sounds of children playing in the street and birds singing. Occasionally, you would steal a glance at each other, sharing brief smiles. The windows were close enough to allow for light conversation without any problem.

"What's your book about today?" Jihoon asked softly, not wanting to break the serene atmosphere.

"It's a collection of poems," you replied, looking up from the pages. "They’re really beautiful, but sometimes I get lost in the metaphors."

Jihoon nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I know what you mean. Sometimes, when I'm writing lyrics, I have to take a step back to make sure they actually make sense."

You chuckled. "I'd love to hear some of your songs someday."

"Maybe one day," Jihoon said, his cheeks reddening a bit. "When I’m ready."

You both fell back into a comfortable silence. The connection you were building felt natural and unforced. Every now and then, your eyes would meet, and it felt like you were communicating more through those glances than words ever could.

After weeks of talking through windows, exchanging messages, and of course, through Beep Boop, it didn't take much time for the inevitable to happen.

You found yourself standing face to face with Jihoon at your door right now. There was no robot this time, just Jihoon nervously holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

"Jihoon, you came!" you exclaimed, feeling a rush of happiness to see him standing so close to you.

Jihoon chuckled nervously, handing you the bouquet. "I, uh, brought these for you. I wanted to say thank you for being so patient with me."

You took the bouquet, the sweet scent of flowers filling the air. "Thank you, Jihoon. You didn't have to bring flowers, but I appreciate them." Stepping aside, you gestured for him to come in. "Come on in."

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before stepping into your home, his eyes scanning the interior briefly. "Your place is nice," he commented softly.

"Thanks," you replied, closing the door behind him. "Can I get you something to drink? Maybe some cola?" you added playfully, remembering how you had often sent cola through Beep Boop.

Jihoon chuckled again, a bit more relaxed now. "Sure, cola sounds great."

You led Jihoon to the living room, where you offered him a seat on the comfortable couch. As you fetched two cans of cola from the fridge, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. It was surreal to have Jihoon in your home after all the conversations and moments shared through windows and messages.

Handing him a can of cola, you sat down beside him. "So, what made you finally decide to come over today?" you asked curiously.

Jihoon took a sip of his drink, gathering his thoughts. "I... I wanted to see you face-to-face. It's different, you know? Talking through windows and messages is nice, but... being here with you feels... real."

You smiled warmly at him. "I feel the same way, Jihoon."

He nodded, looking down at his cola can for a moment before meeting your gaze again. "I know I've been a bit... hesitant. But I really enjoy talking to you, and I want to get to know you better."

"I'm glad you came," you said sincerely, reaching out to gently touch his hand. "I've enjoyed getting to know you too, Jihoon."

He smiled shyly, his cheeks turning pink. "Thanks for being patient with me."

"You're worth the wait," you assured him softly.

Jihoon's smile widened, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of confidence in his eyes.

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slutforfinnickodair · 4 months ago

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𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐉𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐢𝐲𝐤𝐰𝐢𝐦, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭!𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐡𝐢:) 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟗𝐤

The whole atmosphere of the set up room where the interview was taken was quite energetic. Before the show started people took their seats in the crowd, waiting for the other person who was going to get interviewed.

Of course, you blended in easily because you bought your own ticket, so it wouldn’t be obvious that you went in and everything was dealt with. No, you still wanted to wait — and so did Hayden announcing your relationship, let alone your pregnancy.

You sat in your seat as you anxiously played with your fingers, cracking them slightly and bouncing your leg up and down. You were really excited for this interview because let's be honest here — you loved Star Wars. Even the original trilogy was really close to your heart. And you were actually jumping in your room when you saw Ariana Grande’s new music video that was loosely based on one of your favorite movies. You loved to see that the two things in your life you liked most at the time were combined into one of your favorite songs to this day. {Apologizing in advance if you don’t like Break Free, but honestly I’m a huge Arianator :( }

You saw the curtains ruffle as they got pulled apart and Hayden walked out from behind them. You smiled at him warmly as you watched him walk towards one the grayish blue couches, while waving towards the crowd. The people around you erupted into loud cheering, some whistling and clapping their hands while you did so too.

Hayden sat down, shook hands with Jimmy and they eventually started speaking about how they first met actually and how Hayden suggested he should get into talk show business. You actually laughed at that, seeing that they were both happy to see eachother again after all of those years.

Jimmy mentioned Ewan getting scared of Hayden in Vader’s suit, making the crowd once again laugh.

“Does it get really hot in there?” Jimmy asked while Hayden shifted in his seat, chuckling at his question.

“Yeah really, like you sweat buckets in that thing.” Hayden responded. “They actually got this cooling machine that goes under the suit and it splashes cold liquid all over your body so it really feels like you are a creature that this suit holds together.” He chuckled while licking his lips.

You pushed your thighs together.

“By the way you have a beautiful daughter,” Jimmy started while Hayden smiled and the crowd cheered again. “Does she know that daddy is Darth Vader?”

Hayden smiled slightly and thought once more before answering his question.

“She knows daddy is Darth Vader, she’s never seen daddy as Darth Vader.” He said while he got whistling from half of the crowd, and ‘ooo's from the other.

You actually had to slump down lower in your seat if you didn’t want anyone to notice that suddenly your rosy cheeks turned into more like a tomato. You didn’t know why you reacted to his comment like this, even though you knew he was talking about his little girl, but somehow him saying it brought images flooding into your innocent head which later on turned out to be extremely filthy when his dick came into conversation.

This was even proved by the bump that was forming on your stomach.

You looked down at the part of your body where the most precious thing in the world was growing, getting ready to enter the big world. You and Hayden were both very excited to meet your baby, and so were his and your parents. Everyone around your small family circle was very much appreciating that he was finally with someone who deserved him. His parents genuinely liked you, and even said really nice things about you when you weren’t around.

His sisters and his brother were really enjoying your time when you came over from Toronto. Since they lived in Vancouver you always visited at least once a month when Hayden wasn’t away filming but now that you are pregnant he swore that the things he needed to get done would get done with you by his side every moment. That’s how you got to New York.

You really enjoyed the city, it wasn’t the same as you always thought it would be. Coming from France and living there for most of your life you always thought that there wasn’t anything more beautiful than Paris.

Not that New York reached up to the beautiful sights to the city of love, but you still enjoyed your time there. With Hayden it was impossible not to.

You loved each other equally and even though he always beated you in the ‘I love you more’ game he knew very well that you loved him just the same he did love you.

Hiding something like this for almost five years now is really crazy and hard to manage. No one except your family or the people you really trusted yourself with knew about your relationship with him. You didn’t want him to be the target of the public eye again with dating an ordinary girl who came from the South part of France. It wasn’t something that you’d like to see in the news.

Maybe once your secret will be revealed, but until now it didn’t matter.

“Thank you buddy for being here.” Jimmy shook hands with Hayden while the crowd shared one last final cheering. As they called it to the end, people started to stand up from their seats but before they could rush towards the two or anything, Hayden was escorted to the back of the studio behind the curtains.

Your phone started buzzing in your purse that you had brought with yourself, signalizing that it was time to go home. You smiled to yourself and stood up with everyone else, unnoticingly moving out of the building. Once you were out, you stared at the sky once more before turning back after everyone left their seats. You then saw a dressing room with his name on the white wood with a star shining bright on the door. You walked towards the entry when you heard some footsteps coming from the direction of the set.

You panicked, trying to twist the knob and it turned out to be locked.

Fuck.

You turned around to face the exit, completely unsure of the fact that you were in the opposite way out from the exit. The main entrance where the guests were coming in was on the east side of the skyscraper while you were on the west side.

You then felt a hand on your shoulder making you turn around the moment you felt the touch. You faced a man dressed in a black suit eyeing you with a curious expression.

“What exactly are you searching here for Miss?” He asked, his voice stern.

No one’s going to believe you that you are supposedly Hayden Christensen’s secret wife. You would probably get kicked in the ass — or something slight because your tummy was already showing.

“I..um.” You started mumbling while pointing to the door. “Geez.” You chuckled. “Is this the dressing room?” You tried making it look funny that you just accidentally twisted the knob into a private part of the building.

This was the reason you almost failed drama class. You sucked at acting.

“She’s fine. Let her go.” You heard a familiar voice say while the bodyguard turned around, his headset still in his ear.

Your expression lightened the moment you saw Hayden and his did too.

“Mr she tried breaking into your room.” The guard said, still unsure why he would let someone go who wanted to maybe attack him.

Hayden smiled slightly while shaking his head and walking next to you while you kept looking at his beautiful face.

“I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose. Right Miss?” He asked you while you tilted your head at him.

“Y..yes.” You mumbled as the blush on your cheeks got into an even deeper shade of red.

“Good.” He said while nodding at the bodyguard to leave you two alone. He looked at him like he was crazy, but then he looked down at your hand, a similar ring he saw before creeping into his mind.

“Mrs Christensen.” He nodded towards you while turning around and leaving.

“Wha..” You tried but then Hayden lifted his hand.

“You didn’t take it off?”

“I never do.” He responded.

“But Hayden..”

“I don’t want to talk about this here and now. Okay?” His question left some confusion inside of you while you pulled at your lips and nodded slightly.

He tilted his head while looking at you, smiling once he saw that you were calm enough to take you back to his car.

“Come.” He whispered while taking your hand. You followed shortly after him, shuddering once the chilly weather hit your skin. Goosebumps started to form on your tanned skin, making Hayden shrug out of his jacket.

“Baby we are a few blocks away. You are wearing a shirt.” You tried but he set the jacket on your shoulders, the fabric covering most of your upper body and some of your thighs.

You always remember how easily he got sick. Even when he was wearing a knitted sweater in October he would have a 39 degree fever.

“You are in charge of two.” He said while taking his keys out of his pants. You bit the inside of your cheek, starting to feel that you were maybe getting on his nerves with all of the protesting and that he had to tell one more person about your secret.

You stayed quiet from then on, staring at the road that the headlights lightened up. You were chewing on your bottom lip nonstop, leaning your head against your palm as you watched the skyscrapers vanish inside the gray clouds. Your house that Hayden rented for a month was actually out of the city on a calmer side of the East Coast.

“I’m sorry baby.” He started while you looked at him, curiosity shining in your eyes. “I’m sorry that we have to hide this. And I’m so tired of this shit. I want everyone to know that you are mine, but at the same time I don’t want you to be followed wherever you go. I want you to live the life that you lived before.”

You actually wanted to scoff at that. The life you lived before meeting him was full of problems, and even though you were already twenty seven when meeting him, he clearly saw that the problems that were hanging on your shoulders were the same as a girl’s who is still in highschool junior class. You sighed.

“Hayden I chose to let that life go a really long time ago. So if that’s the only thing keeping you away from throwing it at the public eye that you have been married for three years now, okay. Go.” You said while placing your hand on top of his on the transmission.

“I love you.” You said. “And I wouldn’t care if a million people by tomorrow would be banging at the front door, if I can go through this with you.” Your voice cracked by the end as you got emotional again.

You heard him sigh before he spoke up.

“I love you more.” He whispered while you rolled your eyes at his playful institcs. He was able to make such an emotional moment a fit of laughter.

—————

He was actually showering for at least twenty minutes now, and you missed your husband’s cuddles and his warm body pressed up against you so you decided to tie your hair up into a messy bun because you didn’t want to get it wet, slipping off the shirt you had borrowed from him.

The door slightly cracked open, giving you a clear view of his ass. You smirked to yourself as you saw that one of his hands was on the tiles, whilst the other wasn’t so clear what was doing.

You looked at his fine back more than you should have, but no one else saw you staring at his butt so why not? Plus..you had a right to.

So with that you quietly stepped into the bathroom through the threshold and stripped down to your underwear, taking those off too. The steam from the hot water was filling the whole room, making the wetness erupt on your face.

Your already heated cheeks felt like burning as you stepped into the shower behind him. His hands stilled the moment you pulled the glass away. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder while tilting your head up.

The warm water ran over the two of you both while you flattened your palms out on his lower stomach, rubbing them against his skin, kneading it.

“I saw what you were doing.” You whispered against his shoulder while you heard him chuckle. Hayden took your hands into his while turning around to face you.

“You didn’t see a thing.” He smirked while you raised your eyebrows.

“So it wasn’t your hand stroking that?” You pointed downwards while you saw some slight pink rush into his cheeks. You grinned while he rolled his eyes.

“Okay maybe I got a little carried away.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Just a little?” You tilted your head.

“A little.” He whispered before lowering his head to kiss you.

The height difference was crazy.

The kiss seemed to deepen as Hayden wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to himself but aware of the baby bump he kept a safe distance. You giggled as you felt the baby kick once your skin collided with his.

“Did he just kick me?” He asked while you let out a loud giggle, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“I think so.” You mumbled against his skin while you felt his hand wander down their way on your butt.

He squeezed one of your cheeks playfully while you feeling sensitive let out a soft moan.

“That felt good?” He smirked.

“It’s not my dick brushing against you is it?” You asked.

Then he suddenly picked you up by your inner thighs. You let out a gasp as the sudden motion hit you, your gaze falling down on his face as he turned to press you up against the wall.

“Hayden.” His name fell from your lips as your hands settled on his shoulders. “What are you doing?” You felt your stomach tense as he rubbed himself against you.

“Feeling you up.” He said while you gasped again as his tip hit the top of your clit. He kept rubbing himself between your folds as you held onto him, kissing his lips.

You felt his cock twitch against your lips, making you squirm while he groaned.

“I’m close.” He mumbled, one of your hands coming up to his chin to tilt it upwards.

“Look into my eyes as you cum on my pussy.” You whispered, making him shoot his eyes open and stare at you, his blue eyes burning into yours.

When he started letting out grunts you knew he was really close. His dick twitching, you took one of your hands and slid it down on your body, reaching his tip.

You started working your fingers on it, smiling at the view of your husband trying to contain his pleasure.

“Let it all out.” You mumbled. “I want to hear you.” Your hand went up from his chin to his cheek, your thumb rubbing against his flesh while your fingers on the other hand worked faster on his tip.

“Fuck!” He gasped and tried tilting his head back as you felt his seed shoot on your pussy, his tip smearing it everywhere.

You grabbed the back of his head and held him to look in your eyes as he came down from his high.

Your fingers that were on his tip now were rubbing your clit with his cum dripping down on it. You let out a mewl as his cock softened, but his calloused fingers took the place of yours and started to collect the smeared come.

Once he was sure he collected most of his he pressed two of his fingers into you, making you dig your heels into his back as he fingered you.

“Hayden.” You tilted your head against the tiles while he stared up at you, that smug smile on his face while his fingers brushed against your G-spot.

“I feel you.” He murmured while you moaned. “Come on my fingers Sweetheart.” Your hands immediately flew to his hair, grabbing it and tilting his head upwards so you could kiss him again.

“Oh my fucking god.” You writhed as he kept fucking his fingers into you. The coil in your stomach was so tight, and it suddenly popped making you scream his name as some tears flew out of your eyes at how powerful your orgasm was.

Hayden then rested his forehead against yours kissing your nose, cheeks and your forehead too, eventually giving you a big kiss on the lips and placing you down on the tiles while still holding you.

“This was amazing.” He said while you held into him, kissing his neck.

“Better than jacking off alone?” You teased while he groaned and made you laugh.

“Surely, Sweetheart."

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #sam monroe smut #star wars #sam monroe #hayden christensen imagine #clay beresford #clay beresford smut #clay beresford x reader #anakin skywalker imagine

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lime-bloods · 5 months ago

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I honestly didn't ever expect that I'd be in the position where I'd be using this blog not just to analyse what has come before in Homestuck, but to look toward the comic's future and do some real old-fashioned theorycrafting. but the time has come. so here goes; lime-bloods' Beyond Canon theories as of the July 6th 2024 update:

Vriska's Going to Hell

were all gonna help you! / whether you like it or not

a select few eagle-eyed readers already noticed that the sound used in last month's (Vriska: Figure shit out yourself.) is called "hell_tierwav". while it was easy to dismiss this as irrelevant composer shenanigans at the time, it's now become clear exactly what this was foreshadowing. whether it would be more apt to call this "Hell" or "Purrgatory" is probably up for debate - but whatever you call it, Vriska's been placed in a dimension seemingly tailored specifically for her personal torment.

while Vriska characteristically interprets the recreation of her childhood home as a symbol of how badass she was, the ghosts of her past - both literal, as the shades of the trolls she killed as Mindfang, and figurative, in the form of sprites wearing the faces of her dead friends - show us in no uncertain terms that Vriska's childhood home is the stage where traumas play out.

Erisolsprite puts it succinctly with his welcome to hell, but pay close attention to what exactly we're being welcomed to: this update ends on page 665. so as of this next update, we'll be starting on page 666.

Does Homestuck Have Hell?

the exact bubble of reality Vriska's currently found herself in seems to be an entirely new construction of the likes we've not yet seen in Homestuck - but that doesn't mean this kind of cosmic torment is without precedent. because while 666 is a number with Satanic connotations in the broader cultural context, it also has a very particular meaning of its own within the world of Homestuck. indeed, the latter half of the comic almost revolves around it, culminating in a climax in Act 6 Act 6 Act 6.

specifically, this repetition of a single digit is emblematic of recursive storytelling. to summarise what you can already read about in detail in my essay The World / The Wheel: when Caliborn is 'gifted' the Act 6 Act 6 supercartridge, which he is told is an "expansion" of Homestuck, it's a trick. there is no "expansion"; he's going to be trapped in a story that never ends because it keeps dividing into smaller and smaller versions of itself forever. the only way to truly beat the devil who trapped the heroes within a story is to trap him in his own story.

that's what Caliborn's "Hell" is, and that's also exactly what the Alternate Calliope achieved in Act 7 by creating the black hole which Vriska knocked Lord English into, ending Homestuck's story - something that Calliope even hints at in this very update, when she refers to the black hole as "containment"; not an accident, but a deliberately crafted prison. black holes are a symbol of recursion and regression; being sucked into one means being forced to live out your whole life over and over again, forever. so really, this is all we ever could have expected to happen when Vriska stepped into a black hole within a black hole! the presentation of the narrative even subtly hints at this; events in Beyond Canon that take place in the black hole are enclosed (in brackets), and now events that take place in a black hole-within-a-black-hole are contained within {curly brackets}, because you should always use a different kind of brackets to differentiate nested parenthesis from each other!

it is absolutely no coincidence that when Caliborn closes the curtains on his appearances in Homestuck, thinking he's won when really he's been condemned to a hell of his own making forever more, it's with a tribute to this exact same Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff strip.

IF YOU REMEMBER JUST ONE THING I SAY, OF SO MANY GREAT THINGS SAID BY ME, THEN PLEASE REMEMBER THIS. I WANTED TO PLAY A GAME.

So What Does That Mean?

one of Beyond Canon's central missions is expanding upon Homestuck's exploration of the relationships between author, text, and audience. as discussed above, a large part of Homestuck's thesis is the evil of forcing characters to live the same lives and the same stories over and over without the chance to grow or move on, and Beyond Canon picks up on this by placing Dirk in the position of trying to keep Homestuck going forever purely to appease its fans, while the Alternate Calliope continues to oppose this ideology. and while the alpha Calliope outwardly seems not to have taken a hard position on where she stands in this cosmic battle, the question posed by her device seems to be an entirely new one: can it actually be a good thing to regress, to return to ground that the story has already covered? can this path lead to something new, rather than merely stagnation?

it's so relevant that Vriska is being confronted with the crimes of her past, not only in the form of all the trolls she was personally responsible for killing but also in the form of the exact same punishment she condemned Lord English to with her heroism - complete with the herd of horses that are always present at Caliborn's demise! but where being condemned to an eternal cycle was fitting punishment for Caliborn, someone who refuses to break free of cycles of abuse and instead chooses to enact that same abuse on the world around him... if Vriska is someone who can break free of these cycles, who can change and become a better person despite what happened to her, will this punishment have the same effect? or, as Davepeta seems to believe, is forcing Vriska to reckon with her own past and traumas exactly what will allow her to break free of that cycle?

DAVE: [...] ill just be over here in the hyper gravity chamber training to beat lord english KARKAT: WE HAVE A HYPER GRAVITY CHAMBER???

it's hard not to be struck by the parallels in design and purpose between the Plot Point and Dragon Ball's Hyperbolic Time Chamber, and not just because of the Dragon Ball enthusiasts present on Beyond Canon's writing and art teams: albeit in typically Strider-bastardised form, the Time Chamber got a shoutout in Andrew Hussie's own Homestuck (see quote above), in a reference that was even picked up on by prolific theorist bladekindeyewear at the time. for the uninitiated: the Hyperbolic Time Chamber allowed its users to train for extended stretches of time, sometimes even spanning years, while a significantly smaller time period passed in the world outside - something that is actually true of real-life black holes! and with the Plot Point's own emphasis on time, represented by the hourglass included among its mechanisms, it seems to me that an essential part of making the 16-year-old Vriska ready for the trials ahead will be giving her the time to undergo the same growth her adult friends have experienced.

considering that Beyond Canon is already playing in the Ultimate Self space, where there are levels of power beyond merely the "god tiers", it also doesn't seem too farfetched to speculate that Vriska, forced to reckon with the fact that becoming a powerful Thief of Light isn't the be-all and end-all of personal growth, will take another leaf out of Dragon Ball's book here and ascend "beyond Super Saiyan". perhaps this is even the "hell tier" so cheekily alluded to in the Plot Point flash? certainly this kind of evolution would be the perfect way to challenge Dirk's belief that the Ultimate Self is the only logical final step for a character's development.

whatever the case, I believe we can take Davepeta at their word here. I don't think it's just a joke that by the end of this ordeal Vriska Serket is going to be fucking RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPED!

#homestuck #beyond canon #upd8 #vriska #vriska serket #davepetasprite #caliborn #black holes #theory #< apparently ive used this tag before but i cant say what for. will have to check later

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heich0e · 7 months ago

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there's an east wind blowing beyond your bedroom window.

you know it's from the east because the rain falling outside is hitting the windowpane in a soft tap-tap-tap that occasionally intensifies on a particularly strong gust. you know your bedroom window faces east because every morning you can see the sun cresting in the distance, diffusing—soft and pink and warm on your favourite days—through the gauzy panels of your curtains.

"you up yet?"

it's not morning now. far from it, in fact. the night's still only new, though it's already fully-dark outside—and has been for most of the day thanks to the dreary weather. it's late enough in the evening that most businesses have closed their doors for the day and people have returned to their homes, but not quite late enough to justify the fact that you're already curled up tightly underneath the covers of your bed.

you roll over in your comfortable cocoon and spy touya in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watches you.

he's got his coat on.

"are you going out?" you ask him, your voice a little thicker than it usually is. you've been awake for a while, but your afternoon nap (that ran longer than you expected) has left it hoarse from disuse.

touya makes a quiet sound of agreement. not quite a grunt, nor a hum, but something somewhere in-between the two.

you push yourself up slightly in bed, propping your body upright on your elbows. "but it's raining."

touya hates the rain, and has for as long as you've known him. he's the first one to complain when dark clouds roll in, to curse as his teeth chatter and he shakes droplets from his hair when he steps through the door after getting caught in an unexpected downpour, to go out of his way to avoid making plans that require him to leave the house at the slightest mention of inclement weather.

"'s letting up a bit, i think," he answers from the doorway with a little shrug. "i just need to run to the convenience store, anyway."

he shuffles a little further into the room as you lift your hand and reach out for him, approaching the edge of the bed wordlessly and slipping his hand into your own. he peers down at you from your bedside as you lift his hand and press it to your cheek.

"what do you need at the store?" you ask him, your lips pursed slightly. it's not that late, and the weather really isn't that bad, but you'd still prefer he stay here with you.

"ran outta patches today," he replies, though there's something almost a little resentful in the statement. even his expression is a bit more annoyed than it had been a moment prior, in a way that almost makes you giggle—but you suppose the nicotine withdrawal could be playing a part in that.

"just patches, right? not patches and a pack—"

"not patches and a pack of cigarettes to tie me over on the walk home," he finishes the sentence for you before you get the chance, rolling his eyes a bit. "i know, i know."

he frees his hand from your grip and pokes your cheek lightly, earning him a little laugh you can't help but let slip through your lips.

"i'm 24 days in, you know. not about to throw it all away now," he reminds you pointedly.

"good," you reply with an encouraging nod and a somewhat cheeky smile. you never doubted him anyway. "make sure you take an umbrella."

he nods, his touch still lingering against your cheek. his fingertips skirt down, tracing along your jaw, until he reaches your mouth. he presses his thumb lightly against your chin, seemingly just to watch your lips part.

"d'ya want anything?"

you shake your head in dissent, but then pause, your eyes lighting up.

"can you get pickled ginger?"

"pickled ginger?" he asks you, a bit incredulously. "again? thought we just got some of that."

"i finished the jar earlier," you reply with a shrug.

"that can't be good for you," touya remarks dryly, letting his hand drop from your face. "you're gonna start pickling yourself from the inside out if you keep eating so much of that stuff."

"it's not my fault that pickling is the superior form of food preparation." you flop back lazily against your pillows, meeting his gaze resolutely. you lift your fingers as you list out the various accolades. "cold, crunchy, sour, kinda sweet, sometimes spicy—what's not to love?"

touya's nose wrinkles. he's never been a huge fan of pickles, but especially not in the volume you've been consuming them lately.

"whatever you say," he answers, knowing now after all this time when he ought to bow out of an argument before it starts. "mom texted me earlier and said she was sending yumi over with side dishes tomorrow, and there'll probably be pickled vegetables in there. so you can wait until then."

"fine," you sniff, and you may pout a little, but touya knows your excitement at his little sister coming to visit outweighs any annoyance you may feel about having to wait a whole twelve hours to get your fix.

outside, the wind picks up again, and the tapping against the windowpane gets a little bit louder.

"sounds like it's getting worse," you murmur, your face turned in the direction of the window. you glance up at him again, blinking from where you're sprawled out across your pillows. "you sure you wanna go out in that?"

touya nods, kneeling at the edge of the bed and dipping down so he can press a kiss to your forehead. you're still warm from sleep, and soft in all the ways he's come to depend on. you smell like your shampoo and your sheets—and a little bit like him too, since the floral-printed bedlinen is as much his own now as it is yours.

"be back soon," he speaks quietly into your skin before pulling away.

you wave him off tiredly, and as he leaves the room, touya wonders if you'll be asleep again before he returns.

he pulls his shoes off the rack in the genkan, tucked away next to yours, and leaves his slippers there as he stuffs his feet into footwear better suited for the elements. he grabs his keys off the little table in the entryway, the keychain you bought for him at the aquarium glinting in the light as he tucks them into his coat pocket. last, he grabs the umbrella from just beside the door—he doubts he'll even use it, but you told him to take it, so he does.

there's an unexpected break in the rain as touya steps out into the spring night, and he blinks up at the sky overhead a bit incredulously when he realizes his luck. he doesn't linger to appreciate it for long, knowing that at any moment his fortune could change, shuffling off in the direction of the convenience store at the other end of the street.

he sidesteps puddles along the sidewalk on his way, admiring how the streetlights ripple in the surface as he passes.

touya used to hate the rain, but he can't help but think that it's not so bad when he knows that he has somewhere—and someone—warm waiting to welcome him home.

#idk what this is if i'm being real w u all #touya i want to make an honest man out of u #let me domesticate u i'm begging #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #bnha drabble #bnha writing #writing

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andvys · 10 months ago

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | Epilogue

Warnings: none. this is just pure fluff. possible allusions to steddie x reader but don't tell roe I said that

Pairings: Previous Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: This is the end. Or the new beginning.

A/N: @hellfire--cult thank you for working on this story with me, bestie. It would have never been the same without you, you really helped me create something great. The last line? Perfection bby, thank you so much🫶🏻 i love u

series masterlist

2 years later

Hawkins, 1987

Sunlight peeks through the blue curtains in the large bedroom, the sound of cars driving through the streets fills the silence in the apartment, the smell of paint, fresh bed sheets and the vanilla candle that was lit for the first time last night, all mingle together. Both opened and unopened boxes are all across the room. Most of the clothes – jackets, sweaters and flannels are already in the closet. The dressers are decorated with books, pictures and a lone mug that was forgotten yesterday morning. A diary and a new lamp are decorating the bedside table.

Silent tiptoes echo against the hardwood floor before they disappear again and reappear on his thick blanket, the faintest purr and the softness against his skin pulls him out of his deep sleep.

A smile tugs at his lips when the little ball of fur snuggles against his bare chest.

“Hey there… Cat,” Steve mumbles, groggily.

The black kitten meows at him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmurs, opening his tired eyes. “You’ll get a cool name soon, don’t worry, dude.”

He strokes his back, gently. Smiling when he starts to purr as he moves closer to him.

A yawn falls from Steve’s lips, he runs his fingers through his hair, he looks over at the clock. He raises his eyebrows in surprise, it’s 6:46am.

“Look at you, I don’t even need an alarm anymore,” he mumbles.

Cat meows at him, standing up on all paws, he suddenly digs his nails into his chest as he stretches.

“Ow!.. Yeah, no, we don’t do that on humans, buddy,” he mumbles as he picks him up, giving him a kiss on the head, before he puts him down on his pillow.

Steve throws the covers off himself, stretching his arms out before he gets up and walks over to the window, he opens the curtains and takes a look outside before he walks over to the closet, picking out some clothes for the day.

“Gonna take a shower and then make breakfast for the princess,” he says to his new buddy, as though he would answer. He looks back at him to find him staring with his head tilted. Steve chuckles, “yeah, don’t tell her I called her that, she’d probably punch me.”

After a long shower, he makes his way into the kitchen, he feeds his cat before he gets started on the breakfast that he cooks for Robin and himself every morning. He sips on his hot coffee, bobbing his head to music that plays from the radio that he bought a few days back as he stirs the scrambled eggs.

Robin walks out of her room moments later, with messy hair and a very tired look on her face, she makes a stop in the bathroom before she joins Steve in the kitchen.

“Morning Dingus,” she grumbles as she pushes past him. She grabs her favorite mug from the cupboard and pours the freshly brewed coffee into it.

“Morning, Robby,” he chuckles. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like shit,” she mumbles, walking over to the fridge, she opens it and grabs the creamer. “I need coffee so so bad.”

Steve scrunches his face up at her, watching her pour tons and tons of creamer in.

“I don’t know how you can drink that, it’s too fucking sweet, Robin.”

She rolls her eyes at him, taking a sip from it, she closes her eyes and nods. “No, this is exactly what I need. Flavored goodness to wake me up in the morning.”

“Yeah, it’s the overload of sugar that wakes you up, not the coffee in there,” he chuckles as he points to her mug. “It’s bad for your teeth.”

“It’s not an overload, you’re just a grandpa.”

“Why? Because I don’t like creamer?”

“No, because you don’t like sweet stuff.”

“Not true, I got sugar in my coffee.”

She snorts, leaning against the counter, she holds her mug against her chest, “yeah, how much? A sprinkle?”

He takes a sip of his coffee, shaking his head at her, “nope, two teaspoons.”

“Oh wow!”

He rolls her eyes at her, placing his hand on his hip, he turns back to the stove.

She chuckles at his pose, “you know, you’re like a real mom – cooking breakfast for me, telling me to be safe even though I’m dating a girl, telling me that sugary stuff is bad for my teeth.”

He waves her off, “yeah yeah.”

She laughs, walking over to their kitchen table, she sits down and reaches for the newspaper, “hey, where’s your little buddy?”

Steve uses the spatula to point at the couch, “buddy is sleeping.”

Robin straightens her back, looking over to where he’s pointing, she finds the tiny kitten sleeping on the fluffy blanket she left there, last night.

Her eyes soften and her lips pull into a pout, “he’s the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen – I’m so happy you kept him.”

“Not like I had a choice,” Steve snorts, though his eyes are soft as he looks at his little buddy. “Dustin forced me to keep him.”

“Don’t act like it wasn’t the birthday present you ever got,” Robin says, glancing at him.

Dustin and Max thought it was a great idea to adopt a kitten for his 21st birthday. He didn’t exactly have a choice but to keep him – besides, Steve fell in love with the cat the moment he held him in his hands.

“Yeah, I love him. I don’t have a name for him yet though.”

Robin shrugs, “you didn’t like any of my suggestions. I guess he will stay ‘Cat’ forever.”

“No, he won’t,” Steve shakes his head as he walks over to the table, placing both plates on the table before he walks back to the counter to get his cup of coffee.

“That smells good,” Robin smiles at him, pulling the plate closer and reaching for the fork, “thanks mom,” she teases him.

He flips her off as he sits down across from her, making her chuckle.

She takes a bite of the toast and digs into the eggs, getting lost in her thoughts as she chews her breakfast.

Steve looks at her, watching the way she raises her brows before she holds her finger up, like she does every time whenever she remembers something important.

“Oh! I just remembered, Lizzy told me that someone’s moving in next door!”

“Really?” He asks, furrowing his brows at her.

“Yeah, some couple.”

Steve frowns at her words, dropping his fork, he reaches for his mug.

“Damn, let’s hope they’re nothing like the couple in the last apartment building,” he says in disgust.

Robin and Steve lived across the street in the old building for almost two years and almost every night, they’d both have to wear earplugs to avoid hearing them moan and scream.

“They were horny rabbits,” Robin laughs in amusement as she continues eating, totally unfazed by those memories.

“Yeah, like you and Chrissy,” he mumbles, glaring at her. “I hope the walls here are thicker than in the last apartment.”

Robin blushes at his words, though she keeps the teasing smile on her lips. Excitement rushes through her when she thinks about her girlfriend, who is currently away for college.

“You’ll find out next week.”

“She’s coming to visit?”

“Mhmm.”

“Cool,” Steve nods, smiling at her. “Alright, I’m gonna clean up the kitchen and you should start getting ready for work or the manager will kick you out.”

She snorts at his words, rolling her eyes at the teasing look on his face.

“You’re the manager, Dingus.”

“Not yet, Robs.”

“Yeah, well you’re almost the manager.”

“Almost, yeah.”

It’s the beginning of September, the last days of summer are going strong. It’s not as hot as it was in July or August, but it’s still very warm. The afternoon sun shines into the store, the soft breeze from outside touching his skin as he passes by the open door.

It’s a slow day at Family Video and Steve spent most of his time stacking up new tapes. Frowning every time he passes by Pretty in Pink, he came to hate the movie, simply because he gets asked about it at least five times a day – and because Robin and Chrissy force him to watch the movie with them, all the damn time.

He’s organizing the shelf in the back aisle, fixing all the tapes that have been put back unevenly.

He furrows his brows when he hears Robin’s whispers as she seemingly talks to someone at the front, though he doesn’t take a peek to look who it is, he figures that she’s using the phone to talk to Chrissy as always. Keith almost caught her during one of her phone calls – she came up with a lie and he of course had her back, Keith didn’t seem to believe that she was talking to a customer who was asking for a very specific movie, he also didn’t believe Steve when he told him that said customer calls all the time, but he brushed it off, surprisingly. He must have had a good day, otherwise he would have fired them both probably.

He almost flinches when he feels someone tapping his shoulder – he didn’t even hear the footsteps.

“Excuse me? – Can you help me find Pretty in Pink?”

It takes him a moment.

He almost groans in annoyance at the mention of that movie but then his eyes widen and his heart leaps to his throat. For a second he thinks that it’s his mind playing tricks on him but when he turns around, his eyes widen even further and his lips curl into a big smile.

The same eyes that were filled with tears after the last goodbye two years back, now stare at him with happiness and excitement in them.

You are here.

You came back.

“I– Dolly?!” He gasps as he looks you up and down, like he can’t believe that you are truly here after being away for so long.

“Hi, Stevie.”

You’re looking at him with a smile on your face as you take in the sight of him too.

It’s almost been two years since you had last seen each other.

Two years since you have left Hawkins.

You look happy, you look beautiful, even more so than before. Your hair is even longer now, styled perfectly, long bangs are framing your face. Your lips are cherry red, it suits you well. You’re wearing a short sundress, your sun kissed skin is glowing beneath the sunlight that shines into the store. He can smell your perfume, it’s a new one.

You look amazing, healthy and at peace.

Snapping out of it, he drops the tape he was holding, not caring where it lands. He takes a step forward, he wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, twirling you around as he holds you tightly.

A squeal falls from your lips before you start laughing, you wrap your arms around his neck. Hugging him back just as tightly.

“I missed you so fucking much!” He exclaims, squeezing your waist. “I’m never letting you leave again.”

“I missed you too, Steve.”

He missed your voice too – you called him on his birthday but this is different.

You giggle, letting go of him when he puts you down again.

He squeezes you one more time before he pulls away from the hug, still smiling for you, unable to tear his eyes away from you.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you smile, giggling again.

You take in the sight of him. He changed, somehow he appears even taller to you than before. His shoulders are broader, his hair is longer, a light stubble on his cheeks. He looks older, in a good way. But most importantly, he looks content, he looks happy and that makes your smile even bigger.

He blinks, he opens his mouth to speak again but he is stunned, completely caught off guard.

He takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair before he puts his hand on the shelf next to him.

“I– wow, I can’t believe you’re back,” he says, shaking his head. “And you, you look amazing.”

You look down at the floor, smiling at his words.

“Thank you. You do too, Steve.”

Your eyes meet his again when you look back up.

“Thank you,” he smiles as his eyes soften.

He gets excited, too excited at the thought of seeing you around town again. Hawkins hasn’t been the same since you left. It was weird at first, places that you have always gone to, suddenly seemed so lonesome and lifeless, despite the people around them. You were just gone and he hated it.

“W-Wait, are you back for good or are you just visiting?”

You shake your head, “no, we’re back, for good.”

Steve can’t begin to describe how happy he feels to hear these words. He missed you, he missed his best friend.

There are so many things he wants to ask, so many things he wants to tell you but he is just too stunned.

He looks over your shoulder, “where’s Eddie?”

“He’s talking to Robin, wanna go say hi?” You smile.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he nods, putting his hand on your shoulder. “So, did you guys plan to come back here or was it spontaneous.”

“Both. We just kinda made that decision spontaneously, back in July. It’s been nice to live in a big city and travel around whenever we had the chance to but we missed everyone here,” you pause, smiling when your eyes meet Eddie’s as you and Steve make your way to the front desk. “Even Eddie, can you believe that?”

He chuckles, knowing how much Eddie always cursed about this town.

“Do you have a place here already or are you staying with your mom?”

You shake your head, “no, Wayne helped us find an apartment and Enzo was happy to offer Eddie a job again.”

Steve nods, smiling.

“And you?”

“Oh, I got an interview tomorrow at the new coffee shop here!” You explain, excitedly. “We checked it out earlier, it’s so cool! They sell books and records!”

His eyes light up, his lips curl into a smile, “it’s a good place, they make good coffee there.”

“Do you go there often?”

He nods, “yeah and so do Max and Lucas, they go there to study – like every afternoon,” he chuckles.

“Really?” You ask, your eyes lighting up.

“Yeah!”

“Cute,” you smile. “But uh, let’s not get too forward, maybe I won’t get the job.”

He pats your shoulder, giving you a soft smile, “nah, you’ll get it. You love coffee, books and music. They gotta give you the job. – But hey, if you wanna stack up VHS tapes all day, this place will look for a new employee soon, so if you’re interested,” he offers as his smile grows wider. “I’m gonna be the manager soon.”

You both stop at the counter and Steve places his hand on his hip, smirking a little.

Your eyes widen at his words, “no way! That’s amazing, Steve!”

“What’s amazing?”

At the sound of his voice, Steve tears his eyes away from you and looks over at Eddie. He takes him in just like he did with you – it’s almost odd to see him without his signature leather jacket or his vest, his skin a little less pale than usual. He notices the new tattoos on his left arm and how his hair is slightly longer than it was when you both left. Unlike the last few times they had seen each other, there’s not a single negative emotion lingering in his brown eyes – no insecurity, no jealousy, no fear. Eddie looks happy, just like you do.

“Hey man,” Steve nods at him, not even needing to force a smile this time.

“Hey Steve,” Eddie nods, smiling back at him and offering his hand to him.

They shake hands, taking in the sight of each other. There’s no tension between them, not anymore.

“Steve is gonna be the new manager here soon!”

Eddie’s eyes widen, he chuckles at your excitement and smiles at Steve, “congrats, man! That’s nice.”

“Thanks, Eddie.” Steve smiles.

Robin looks between them as she leans against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest, smiling at the two men.

Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulder once he lets go of Steve’s hand. Giving you a smile when you press yourself against him.

“Well, this is nice,” Robin snorts, clapping her hands together as she looks between both men. “You finally got a guy to hang out with, Steve,” she winks at him.

He snorts at her, rolling his eyes. “I got a guy.”

“Who, cat?”

You snap your head towards Robin before your eyes lock with Steve’s, “Cat? You got a cat?”

He chuckles at the excitement in your eyes. “Yeah, Dustin and Max got me a kitten for my birthday.”

Your eyes widen as a gasp falls from your lips, making both him and Eddie chuckle.

“Yeah and he still doesn’t have a name!” Robin exclaims.

“Oh my god! A kitten?” You pout as your eyes soften.

“Yeah, he’s really cuddly too. You’re gonna fall in love with him,” Steve smiles.

Eddie chuckles at his words, looking down at you, “she falls in love with all the cats, Steve.”

“Yeah, that’s why she fell for you,” Robin snorts.

Eddie furrows his brows, “what?”

“You give off cat energy, Eddie. Always hungry, hissing at everyone and clingy with just that one person.”

Eddie’s lips part, confusion flashes in his eyes but he’s amused by her words. He wraps his arm around you tighter and kisses your cheek in response, making you giggle.

“See,” Robin chuckles.

“Oh.. yeah,” Steve mumbles. “You’re onto something, totally reminds me of Cat–”

“Cat is the poor kitten he hasn’t named yet, by the way,” Robin interrupts him, glancing at the both of you.

Steve rolls his eyes but continues, “cat waggles with his tail when he hears Metallica on the radio.”

“You got a rockstar cat!” You laugh.

“Can we meet the little rockstar?” Eddie asks, surprising Steve.

He was unsure of how Eddie would react if he tried to be your friend again, fearing that he would have a problem with that or try to keep you away from him out of fear that he might try to get you back. He didn’t expect Eddie to be the one to make the first move though but it puts a smile on his face.

“Yeah, of course! You two should come over tonight so we can catch up.”

“Yes!” Robin says, excitedly. “You can tell us all about your fun adventures!”

“That would be nice,” you smile. “I missed hanging out with you guys.”

“Yeah, me too, surprisingly.” Eddie snorts.

“Don’t act like you didn’t cry over us every day, Edward,” Robin teases him, looking between you two. Her eyes suddenly flash with curiosity. “Hey wait, where are you two staying?”

You and Eddie share a look, smiling at one another before you turn back to her.

“Wayne helped us get an apartment! We moved all the boxes in and some of the furniture from our old place earlier,” Eddie explains, moving his hand to the small of your back. “The place is just around the corner.”

“It’s cool, we love it. And the landlord is a really nice lady.”

Robin and Steve slowly turn towards one another, sharing the same look as realization dawns on them both.

Lizzy, the really nice old lady, told Robin about the couple that was moving in next door just last night.

Steve purses his lips, slowly looking back at you, “w-wait..”

“Umm, your landlord doesn’t happen to go by the name of Lizzy?”

Eddie raises his brows at them both, nodding.

“Yeah! She was sweet and she complimented me – oh! And she told me how much her husband looked like Eddie when he was young!” You giggle.

Steve’s lips part in surprise and Eddie almost wants to laugh at his expression until Robin opens her mouth.

“Wow, she must’ve had two husbands then because apparently Steve also looked like her husband!” She says, chuckling as she takes in the confused looks on your and Eddie’s faces.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, mumbling something under his breath as his cheeks flush red at Robin’s comment.

“W-Wait what?” Eddie stutters, tilting his head at her. “How do you – huh?”

While your boyfriend takes longer to realize what is going on, it only takes you a second to understand that your landlord is also Steve’s and Robin’s landlord.

“So.. you are the couple who’s moving in next door?” Steve waves his finger between you and Eddie.

“Next door?” Eddie mumbles. “Didn’t you – wait, I thought you still lived in that apartment next to Radio Shack?”

You nod at his words, you thought the same thing.

Steve and Robin share a look, both sighing at the mention of their old place.

“Yeah, we moved out of that one two weeks ago, it was a shithole, honestly.”

Robin nods with her eyes wide. Tapping her fingers against the counter, “yep.”

You and Eddie chuckle in confusion, taking in their ‘traumatized’ faces.

“What was wrong with that place?”

“Oh, it’s a long story!” Steve laughs, scratching the back of his neck. “We’ll tell you all about it later.”

“Yes! We’ll order some takeout, have a couple of drinks and you two can tell us all about Chicago!” Robin smiles.

Excitement rushes through you. You missed your friends, you missed Robin and Steve.

Eddie squeezes your arm, he looks down at you.

You meet your boyfriend’s loving eyes, he nods at you.

A smile tugs at your lips, you lean your head on his shoulder and turn back to your friends.

“We’d love to.”

Steve’s eyes light up, he smiles at you, clapping his hands together.

“You’ll get to meet cat!” He chuckles.

Robin chuckles at his excitement, she runs her fingers through her hair, “Steve and I are gonna order the food!”

“And we’ll get the drinks,” Eddie winks at her.

She clicks her tongue, winking back at him.

Steve chuckles at them, he looks back at you, “alright then, neighbors,” he says with a funny look on his face. “I’ll drop by your place after work, gotta see and make sure that you didn’t get the better apartment.”

A laugh falls from your lips, “we totally did, Stevie.”

“You wish,” he smirks.

“The place is a mess, we gotta get some stuff done.”

“Like what?” Steve asks, looking at Eddie. “I can help.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I got it,” Eddie smiles, though he appreciates the offer.

“I’m off this weekend, so if you need anything, let me know.”

You’re pleasantly surprised to see them getting along with each other.

Time has passed, things have changed, feelings have changed. But nonetheless, you expected more tension between them – you are happy that it’s not the case.

And as they fall into a conversation, you and Robin smile at each other, knowing that things will be different this time.

Steve’s and Robin’s place is a little bigger than yours and Eddie’s. It’s colorful, not overwhelming though, it’s comforting and cozy. String lights are hanging from the ceiling, posters of Indie bands on the living room walls, pillows and blankets on the couch, you remember seeing those on Robin’s bed in her old room at her parent’s place.

Boxes of takeouts, drinks and snacks are all across the small table. Music plays in the background.

You’re sitting on the floor, a box of polaroids in front of you, a smile lingering on your face as you look through the pictures that were taken in the past two years.

Robin is next to you, telling you the stories behind every picture.

“He is such a cute little thing,” Eddie coos at the kitten in his lap, chuckling when he digs his claws into his shirt, using it to crawl up on his chest. Cat purrs as he rubs against Eddie’s face. “Damn, you’re making me want a cat too.”

Steve takes a sip from his beer, leaning back on the couch, “you should get one, they’re adorable.”

“Can’t believe you didn’t name him yet.”

“Yeah, everyone has been suggesting names!” Robin exclaims, looking away from the picture of her and Chrissy. “He hates every single one!”

Steve rolls his eyes at her, “they just don’t fit, Robby!”

“I fear he’s gonna be Cat forever,” Eddie pouts as he pets him.

You put the last picture back in the box and stand up, smoothing down your skirt and Eddie’s shirt that you changed into after your shower earlier. You sit down next to Eddie, snuggling against his side – the moment you do so, Steve’s cat makes his way towards you, jumping into your lap and looking up at you with his green eyes.

Your eyes light up, your heart soars in your chest as you pick him up and pull him closer, setting him down on your chest.

“Hey there, little buddy,” you whisper, smiling as he snuggles deeper into your chest, purring as he digs his claws into your shirt. “You are such a sweet little angel.”

Eddie chuckles, reaching his hand out to pet his head.

“You love those boobs don’t you, Cat?” He smirks. “I do too. They’re so fun to play with.”

“Eddie!” You gasp.

Robin laughs at his words and at the flustered look on your face.

Steve shakes his head, snorting.

“He is a very innocent little thing,” you coo at the kitten, scratching the spots behind his ears, he keeps purring, closing his eyes as he lays his head on your chest. “Oh my god, I love him.”

Eddie smiles down at you as you lay your head on his shoulder, he wraps his arm around you.

Steve leans his elbow on the headrest, looking between you and Eddie, the way you are so natural and comfortable with each other – it’s nothing new to him, you have always been like that with one another, maybe slightly less touchy.

The look in Eddie’s eyes as nothing but pure love and adoration as he laughs when Cat licks your nose.

You giggle, scrunching up your nose and closing your eyes.

He can’t describe the feeling in his chest at this moment, but seeing you so happy, seeing the love between you and Eddie makes him feel at peace.

Two years ago, he let go.

A part of him will always think back to it, back to you and to what you both had.

But he let go, and it’s good like this because he still got to keep you in his life, maybe not like before, but he is happy with what he gets to have now.

You left and you both lived separate lives.

But you came back and you’re here again.

And maybe, you both can go back to how things were before you crossed the line and left behind a friendship that you both mourn.

“Hey Dolly?”

You turn your face towards him, looking into his warm eyes, “yes?”

“Do you have some name suggestions?” He asks. “You always named the stray cats so..”

A smile pulls at your lip, “hmm.”

Robin reaches for the bowl of popcorn on the table, placing it on her lap, she begins snacking as she shoots you a look, “I’m warning you, he’s gonna hate all the names.”

“Shut it, Robs.”

She flips him off, causing Eddie to chuckle at their interaction.

You hum as you look at the black kitten on your chest, “void.”

Eddie snorts, “that’s a good one.”

Steve sighs, shaking his head.

“He rubbed off on you,” he mumbles, nudging Eddie’s shoulder. “What would the child, innocent and pure 10 year old Dolly name this cat?”

You giggle at him, turning away to look back down at him.

“Hmm… Stevie!”

Robin and Eddie laugh at your name suggestion.

“What?”

You look over at Steve, who’s staring at you like he’s waiting for you to continue.

“Not you. The cat! Call him Stevie – he gives off Stevie energy.”

Steve scrunches his whole face up, “I am not naming the cat after me! Seriously, do you guys even try?”

You all laugh at the disapproving look on his face.

“Ozzy,” Eddie shrugs.

“Huh?”

“Ozzy Osbourne,” Eddie says to Steve. “You know, from Black Sabbath?”

Steve stares at him with furrowed brows and downturned lips. But as he watches his cat claw his way out of your lap and jumps over Eddie to get to him, he looks up at him, yawning as he settles in his lap.

“Ozzy,” Steve murmurs, petting him. Steve smiles when he starts purring. “Yeah, I think he likes that one.”

“Is that a yes?”

Steve’s eyes meet Eddie’s, a smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah, shit.. you got a name, buddy,” he chuckles as he looks back down at Ozzy.

Robin claps her hands, “finally!” She cheers. “Wow, I can’t believe you let Eddie name the cat.”

“Does that mean you’re both his parents?” You ask, giggling.

Eddie snorts, pulling you closer as he smirks down at you.

“Sure, but I got full custody of my child,” Steve jokes.

Two years back, Steve would have rolled his eyes at your joke but now he just laughs and plays along.

You have noticed how much he changed.

Your last moments with him, before you left, weren’t the happiest. He was sad, heartbroken and lost. But now he seems content, happy. Even after his failed attempts at dating again, he doesn’t seem sad or heartbroken over it. He told you about his horrible date experiences with Heidi and Amanda – and he didn’t seem pained while he was talking about it, he was amused, that’s all. He tried dating and he gave up, not because he wasn’t ready but because he is just not looking for love or a relationship �� ‘It will happen when the time is right.’ He said.

He is more relaxed now, calm and he seems more confident with himself. You like seeing him this way, he deserves to feel comfortable with himself.

“A cat is good training for kids someday,” Robin says, leaning back as she throws popcorn into her mouth.

“Oh really? Do you want kids?” Eddie chuckles.

Robin shakes her head with wide eyes, “hell no. I’m not Steve, he’s the one with a car full of kids.”

“Do I look like I have a bunch of kids?” Steve mumbles, confused.

“Yeah.” All three of you reply in unison.

“You have six kids already.”

He rolls his eyes but chuckles, “they’re not even kids anymore!”

“Maybe you can babysit their kids soon,” Robin wiggles her brows as she nudges her chin at you and Eddie.

“Oh my god,” you groan, shaking your head at her.

Steve suddenly frowns, blinking as he stares at you and Eddie, “wait, where’s your bedroom again?”

“Huh?”

“Your bedroom, what side is it on? Cause our last neighbors were fucking like rabbits!”

“Yeah it was disgusting!” Robin mumbles.

“You’re one to talk!” Steve glares at her. “I have to wear earplugs every time Chrissy comes to visit, they’re fucking rabbits too.”

She grows red, rolling her eyes at him.

You laugh at the flustered look on her face.

“Yeah, I hope you still have those earplugs,” Eddie chuckles. “Our room is right over there.”

Robin groans loudly as she looks at the wall he’s pointing at.

Steve sighs.

“We got kicked out of our last apartment because we fu–”

“Eddie!” You punch his arm, cheeks feeling hotter than before as you shake your head at him.

Steve and Robin stare at you both in disbelief.

“No, I swear. They kicked us out cause we were too loud,” Eddie says proudly, while you continue shaking your head.

“And you will get kicked out a second time if you don’t keep quiet,” Robin points at him with a glare.

Steve laughs, shaking his head as he brings up his drink to his lips.

“Time to use the ball gag, baby,” Eddie smirks.

Steve chokes on his beer, eyes widening at Eddie’s words.

“Jesus fucking christ, Eddie!” You gasp, burying your face in your hands.

Robin laughs loudly, throwing her head back.

“God damn,” Steve coughs, furrowing his brows at you. “I thought you were a good girl, Dolly.”

Eddie snorts at that, looking over at Steve to see him smirking.

You glare at them both, but you can’t even hide how flustered you are.

“Robin, help me out.”

“No, I’m having too much fun here.”

Rolling your eyes, you push Eddie’s arm off and get up with a sigh, “I need another drink,” you mumbled under your breath as you leave the living room in a haste. You hear their snickers even when you enter the kitchen, you can hear Eddie saying something that makes Steve groan and Robin laugh even harder.

You shake your head but a smile tugs at your lips.

You reach for the handle on the fridge when your eyes fall on the picture next to the many magnets. Your smile transforms into a softer one. It’s an old picture of Steve and you.

You remember that day, it was his birthday, his sixteenth birthday. His dad had gotten him the BMW. The moment he had gotten those keys, you grabbed your polaroid camera, you wanted to take a picture of him and his new car but Steve had pushed the camera into his mom’s hands and asked her to take a picture of the two of you in front of his new ‘baby’.

You were still best friends at that time. Steve's arm was wrapped around your shoulder, you were wearing a cardigan that was way too big for you, it hid the pretty dress you were wearing underneath. You looked so happy in that picture and so did he. You were smiling into the camera but Steve was looking at you with a big smile on his face, eyes that were still shining with happiness and love.

“You looked so small standing there in your cardigan.”

You flinch, looking back in surprise.

Steve is leaning against the doorway, looking at you.

“You scared me,” you chuckle, putting your hand on your chest.

“I’m sorry,” he smiles as he walks into the kitchen. “My mom gave me this picture when I moved out.”

“Oh, that’s where it was!”

He nods.

“Yeah. I remember how excited I was to go for a drive and forced you into the passenger seat,” he says, chuckling at the memory. “She put that picture into an album.”

You smile, looking down.

“You ever miss those days?” He asks, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. “When we just got into high school, we'd just drive around, listen to music, go to the movies..”

“Eat junk food, gossip about the bad hair styles in the magazines,” you add, laughing.

“Exactly,” he nods.

“Yeah, sometimes. Cause back then things were simple and we were just teenagers who still lived in that safe little bubble.”

“Yeah,” he sighs but he smiles at you.

“I kinda miss talking shit about bad hairstyles,” you laugh.

He nudges your shoulder with his, “hey, we can still do that. I mean with the addition of Eddie and Robin now,” he chuckles as his eyes soften. “Eddie is… kinda.. cool now. I think we’ll get along better now.”

Your gaze softens, eyes shining with happiness.

“That’s all I wanted,” you whisper.

You wanted your best friend back in your life and you wanted your other best friend, your boyfriend to get along with him. But you knew that it might not ever be possible, because sometimes, time changes nothing – you hope that it did in this case, though.

“You know, I’m kinda excited to have you as my neighbor.”

Your eyes flash with surprise, your lips twitch. You weren’t sure how he would actually feel about this, having you and Eddie as his neighbors.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I can bother you all day now,” he smirks. “And Eddie too. I’ll blast pop music every night.”

A laugh falls from your lips, “don’t mess with Eddie, he will come over with his guitar,” you chuckle. “His electric guitar.”

He snorts.

“I’m not even kidding,” you giggle as you think about all the performances Eddie had given to you – sometimes wearing nothing but boxers while you laid in bed, watching him with a smile on your face.

“I believe you,” he chuckles. “It’s Eddie we’re talking about, he always loved his dramatic performances.” He refers to all the speeches your boyfriend had held on the lunch tables in the cafeteria.

“He really did.”

Steve watches the way your eyes glow with love as you think back to the times where you and him would watch Eddie jump around on the lunch tables. Had someone told him back then, that Eddie would end up being your boyfriend and he your ex boyfriend, he would probably have had a mental breakdown over it or maybe he would have laughed, not believing that you would end up with a metalhead instead of him.

When you left, he spent a lot of time wondering what would have happened if he never left you.

Would you have still met Eddie?

Would you have been the one to leave him the way he left you for her?

Was everything supposed to go this way because you and Eddie were always meant to be together?

So many what if’s had haunted him for a long time after you left but not anymore.

He made peace with everything, a long time ago.

He loves you, he always will.

You will always have a special place in his heart as he will have one in yours.

And seeing you so happy and in love with Eddie, doesn’t fill him with pain anymore, it fills him with joy because this is what you deserve – to love and to be loved ten times more.

And even if his wishes from the past didn’t come true, he is still happy because even after everything, you came back and he gets to have you in his life again.

You still wear his locket and he still wears your wristband – you are still special to each other, you are still best friends.

You left behind your first love but you never left your friendship behind.

“You know, I was a little worried that you forgot about me,” you tease him.

His eyes flash with sadness, a soft smile appears on his face as he takes your hand in his.

“I could never forget you, Dolly,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. “You’re my best friend.”

A breathy laugh falls from your cherry red lips, your bangs fall in front of your eyes as you look down for a moment.

“You’re my best friend too, Stevie,” you whisper, looking back up.

You both smile at each other, eyes filled with happiness and a love that you carried for one another as kids.

As you stand there and look at one another, you know that everything is okay now, everything is good.

There is no sadness between you both anymore, no tears, no pain, no heartbreak.

You’re both okay.

You’re both happy.

This love will last forever.

He lets go of your hand and brings it up to your face, pinching your cheek as 10 year old Steve would do.

“Come on, Dolly,” he teases, laughing when you swat his hand away, just like 9 year old Dolly would do. “I’ll race you to the living room.”

You roll your eyes at the cocky smirk on his face as he starts to walk backwards.

“You know I’m faster than you.”

“Oh, are you?” He chuckles.

“Yes, I am.”

Before Steve can even react, you move past him and push him back a little before you run out of the kitchen, laughing loudly when he groans.

He runs after you, reaching for your elbow but you push his hand off and bolt into the living room.

“Eddie, help!” You giggle.

Your boyfriend straightens up, watching you with an amused look on his face as you run past Robin and hide behind the lovechair.

“No, help me! She plays dirty!” Steve exclaims.

“Is that true, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks, his brown eyes flashing with mischief as he stands up.

You shake your head, pouting.

Eddie chuckles at that, moving towards you, while Steve walks towards you on the other side.

Your lips part as you watch them, eyes widening when they glance at each other with smirks on their faces.

“You’re teaming up on me!? You’re my boyfriend, you’re supposed to protect your princess!” You giggle as you start walking backwards. Glancing at Robin who watches the three of you in amusement while Ozzy sits on her lap, looking between the three of you.

“Are you good princess or bad princess, right now?”

Steve furrows his brows, looking over at your boyfriend, “why do I have a feeling that this means something dirty?”

“Because it is,” Robin gags.

You and Eddie smirk at each other – but your smirk quickly falls when Eddie suddenly lunges forward, you turn around, trying to run but he wraps his arms around you, picking you up with ease, “got ya, baby,” he whispers in your ear and kisses your shoulder and then your neck, making you giggle softly.

“She’s definitely bad princess, right now.” Steve snorts.

Eddie pulls you back towards the couch, holding you tightly as his fingers dig into your waist, making you squirm beneath his touch.

“Well, I captured the bad princess,” Eddie jokes, murmuring into your hair.

You giggle, your heart fluttering at the feeling of his hands on your skin. You place your hands over his, laughing when he pulls you down on the couch with him.

“Hold on tight to her,” Steve chuckles, smiling at Eddie.

Eddie tightens his grip on you in response, smiling when you turn around to face him, your smile mirroring his. His heart flutters in his chest – just the way yours does as you look into your boyfriends beautiful eyes.

“I always will.”

Robin looks between you and Eddie with a smile on her face. A strand of Eddie’s hair gets stuck on your eyelash, making you both laugh when he tries to pull it away. She looks up at Steve, he watches the two of you and for a moment, Robin fears that old wounds will be ripped open again, that even after two years, she will have to hold him again while he cries because he won’t ever get you back the way he had you before – but, the smile on his face isn’t faked, it’s very real and it isn’t a sad one.

“Hey Steve?”

Steve tears his eyes away from you and looks at Eddie.

“Yeah?”��

“Do you wanna watch Pretty in Pink with us?”

Robin laughs, watching Steve’s face contort into annoyance.

“No!”

Eddie and you giggle at the look on his face.

“Anything but Pretty in Pink!”

“Anything?” Eddie raises his brows.

“Yeah.”

“But what if I wanna watch Pretty in Pink with you, Stevie?” You pout.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles, cupping your cheeks with one hand, he squishes them slightly. “Can you really say no to that cute face?”

He sighs, tilting his head as he looks at you.

“I can already tell, you two are gonna be menaces, even more so than Robin and Chrissy!”

Robin scoffs, rolling her eyes at Steve.

“Nah,” Eddie shakes his head, letting go of your cheeks, he pulls you closer. “You’re gonna love us.”

Steve sits down on the loveseat, smiling when Ozzy jumps out of Robin’s lap and runs towards him, he leans down and picks him up when he sits down by his feet. He pulls the kitten into his lap, letting him snuggle against his chest.

“Will I?” Steve asks, frowning playfully.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie chuckles, kissing your cheek.

“You definitely will, Stevie.”

You lay your head on Eddie’s shoulder and you look around, happy to be in a room with your favorite people. Excitement lingers inside of you, to be back here with Eddie, to settle in for good this time, to see your friends again – to see Eddie and Steve getting along, to see Robin and Chrissy together again, to hang out with Heather and Argyle again.

You place your hand over Eddie’s left hand, playing with the silver band on his finger – the one that matches your own, the one you put on each other’s fingers that one night in Vegas.

And you look around the room again, the conversation as trivial as possible. Your boyfriend and your best friend getting along – when two years ago this would have never happened.

It’s happiness, pure and absolute happiness and you are hoping that it will stay that way.

“Dolly, tell Eddie that Fleetwood Mac is superior to Iron Maiden, please!” Steve says with a smile, and you can’t even answer as you feel your eyes burn slightly from the joy your heart is feeling.

Yes.. now you are sure that this happiness will linger forever.

Like a tattoo.

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @trashmouth-richie @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @take-everything-you-can @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @succubusmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington series #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson series

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alwayscorvus · 3 months ago

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Your little things... - Part 1 - WuWa Characters (separated)

Your little things... - Part 1 - WuWa Characters

malereader x Jiyan/male!Rover/Baizhi (separated), fluff; just some things that you often do to your partner and they are high over heels for it. Habits. Mainly related to their appearance; mxm or mxg; Part 2 (Calcharo, Mortefi, YangYang, ...); warning! not 100% family-friendly;

Jiyan

Being Jiyan's boyfriend, you couldn't ignore his earrings. Those tassels were so tempting… You just had to touch them. Even though you were afraid of his reaction.

And when you did it once, you couldn't stop afterwards. You were enjoying yourself like a little kid who just found a new toy.

Most often it happens, when Jiyan (whether sitting or lying down) lays his head on your chest and his jewelry is within reach of your hands. Theoretically, Jiyan should feel calm and completely safe in your presence, but it's not really the case with his earrings. I mean, after many times he got used to your "harassment", but at least not at the beginning of your journey.

At first, without any drastic movements, you slowly bring your hand closer. Your fingertips gently brush his neck, triggering a wave of shivers as he closes his eyes tighter. You wrap your free hand around his body and start to softly caress his exposed cheek. Drawing great attention to his sharpened jaw.

When Jiyan loses his guard and starts to drift off, you firmly grasp his earring. Teal tassels tickle your hand nicely. And your playing has no end.

At the beginning, Jiyan wasn't happy with your idea. Especially when you made a joke and compared his earrings to decorations that tie up the curtains. He even furrowed his eyebrows in a fake offense. Maybe because their meaning was deeper than you thought.

But, in the end, you didn't mean any harm and your behavior was purely out of admiration. When he saw how much fun you were having with such a simple activity, he couldn't take it away from you.

When you're stressed, bored, or your head is busy with too many thoughts, Jiyan purposely leans towards you. He angles his head so it falls into your field of vision, which allows you to involuntarily raise your hand and engage yourself in play.

During your first encounter with his green dragon you were truly mesmerized. Jiyan saw that too.

Therefore, from then on, when he releases his energy, that wraps around his arm, he intertwines his hands with you and passes his impulse on. Little dragon begins to joyfully surround your body. In close contact teasing you with a tiny warm sparks, as if conveying Jiyan's deep feelings.

Man looks at it embarrassed, unable to quite control it, especially with the increasing distance. At that time, he often turns his face away, unable to look at it, as his cheeks cover themselves with a slight raspberry blush.

Whole process leaves a hint of refreshment. In the end, this dragon's path ultimately involves feeling of a gentle, cool and oh-so-pleasant breeze of wind.

Rover

When making a stop, you often crouch down. Whether it's for a little rest or tying your shoelaces. You then glance at your company from below. For them, this sight isn't too surprising. They are used to your lazy approach. However, it's only what you do at the very end which brings them into pure awe.

When it's time to resume your walk, you grab your boyfriend's right hand with a great confidence. Stopping him in his tracks and causing him to turn towards you once again. You change your position and get down on one knee. Bring his hand closer to your lips and, while standing up, with a steady movement, place a tender kiss on his tacet mark.

It doesn't matter if you are alone or have an audience. You do it all the time. It's almost like your little routine.

At the first time, Rover was truly shocked. His eyes widened and his mouth slightly opened. He didn't even know what to say. But nowadays he always looks at you with a smile and slight blush, appreciating your gesture that symbolizes love and devotion.

Not gonna lie. You are down bad for this straps on his thigh that hold a bag on his leg. The longer you know each other the more your gaze drops downward. You do this in passing time when attention of others is occupied with some activity. You try not to show it, but you can't help it. Your boyfriend is just so hot and you are really proud to be able to call him yours. Sometimes you have to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from thinking further. Thankfully, you quickly shake off from your trance and come back to reality.

Especially when Rover turns towards you and calls your name with an innocent voice, wanting to ask for your opinion.

At the mere sight of this you melt. He is just so adorable. You immediately beat yourself up for all of your previous wrong thoughts.

But when you are alone, in a closed room, situation takes a completely different turn.

In split seconds you find yourself between his legs. Rover leans against the wall or clings to a desk top, tilting his head back with his eyes closed.

He throws his right leg over your shoulder as you slide your fingers under his straps. Pulling them even tighter and pressing them even further into his thigh.

Baizhi

When you first saw the creature that accompanies Baizhi you were slightly startled. After all, it's not every day that some unknown creature, almost twice of your partner size, jumps out at you in the middle of town.

At some point, your concerns turned into appreciation. Fact, that Baizhi always has someone with her to help and rescue her, even when you can't be around, is soothing for your nerves.

Besides, thanks to You'tan, you could even call yourself a father. Both you and Baizhi take care of this (not so little) creature. And it repays you with the same. Healing you in time of need. It took You'tan a long time to accept you and trust you. Even longer than Baizhi. But now, You'tan seeks help from you by itself and lets you know when Baizhi is in trouble.

In addition, You'tan often lets you pet them. That is, not only "let" you. Rather demands it. You'tan starts playing with you on its own, puts its head under your hand and starts poking. Even when you have better things to do or are too tired to pamper the creature. You'tan won't give up until you get to the point. And if you ever decide to not obey its commands it will happily complain about you to Baizhi, striking an offended pose in front of her.

You are really ashamed about your… not so pure actions, but what can you do about them?

And considering that they don't intend to lead to anything more, then there's probably nothing wrong with them..., right?

Baizhi's tacet mark is just begging to be touched. After all, cut in her dress reveals it perfectly.

It's as if your girlfriend is sending you a silent invitation. Especially when she activates her power and brushes her thigh on her own. You can't help yourself.

You don't know if you can call yourself possesive. But you really enjoy showing others that Baizhi is yours. Just like you are hers. And that's why, her tacet mark is a permanent location of your hand. Especially when you sit next to each other.

Baizhi never particularly reacts to this. She is now quite an older woman that developed a rather calm approach to life over many years of living. And she definitely isn't someone who would openly share her feelings in public.

In reality, however, she has a pack of butterflies joyfully dancing in her stomach. Your hand just radiates such a pleasant warmth…

after I saw Jiyan's earings I just had to write that ngl and when doing so I only looked at them as fashion choice. although i also did some internet research after. just to be safe. and... lesson time! it turns out that tassel earrings by some people can be interpreted as "amulet against evil" or religious symbol or they can also represent social status of a person. so maybe one of that is also a case in jiyan's life

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sister-lucifer · 22 days ago

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Love After Life

Claude Theroux (Ghost OC) x Male Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: When the ghostly groom mistakes you for his lost bride on a dark Halloween night, you can’t stop yourself from giving into him.

Content/Warnings: AMAB Reader, unprotected anal sex, cumming inside, Reader crossdressing as a bride for Halloween, a little dubcon but not really only at first, mentions of death + fire, pet names (my love, my darling, various French pet names, etc), Claude refers to Reader with feminine terms because he has weird ghost brain stuff going on and doesn’t realize he’s not his wife, pregnancy/breeding, does this count as force fem?

A/N: Happy (slightly late) Halloween, everyone! ʚ♡ɞ

THIS IS NOT FULLY PROOFREAD! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE ANY TYPOS!

Believing in ghost stories is a feat that has always hovered just outside your field of reality, what you know to be true. Sure, you can suspend your disbelief to humor a friend now and again, but nothing beyond that. Of course, curiosity has a nasty habit of overpowering basic logic; when your phone pinged with a video from a friend about the supposedly haunted manor on White Oak Hill, you couldn’t resist giving it a watch.

You rolled your eyes at the cheesy music that immediately started up upon hitting play, snuggling into bed with your free hand in a bag of snacks. You didn’t expect much at all, really. From the look of the video, it seemed like just another ploy for views from a subpar channel profiting off of kids who are still scared of monsters under the bed. You were far too intelligent for that.

“The haunted house on White Oak Hill has been circulating once again, now that Halloween is coming around,” the narrator spoke, putting on an obviously forced voice while stock b-roll of a graveyard panned across the screen, “but what really happened to make it so haunted? Stay tuned to find out, but first, we want to tell you about our new merch drop—“

You groaned aloud, immediately skipping ahead. You could not be less interested in whatever they were peddling.

“…and it was then, in July of 1945, that tragedy struck.”

Ah. That’s more like it.

“Newlywed French aristocrats, Suzanne and Claude Theroux, had just arrived at White Oak Manor, where they intended to spend their honeymoon…”

Ugh, how cliché. You skipped forward a few more seconds, running out of patience fast.

“…The couple moved downstairs, still dressed in their reception clothes, and completely oblivious to the fire blooming up in the master bedroom. Somehow, a recently lit candelabra had knocked over, causing the charred wick to burn one of the curtains, and the flames were growing rapidly. In their panic, Suzanne managed to escape, but Claude was not so lucky…”

The music faded out, as did the visuals. As much as you’d hate to admit it, they had reeled you in. You didn’t even realize how close you’d gotten to the screen throughout that monologue, at least not until—

“…but first, a word from our sponsors.”

Oh, fuck this!

The shrill text tone jolts you out of an embarrassingly deep sleep. You wipe the drool from your chin as you scramble to sit up, phone sliding off of your chest. Looks like you fell asleep watching that video. So much for scary—you slept like a baby.

You pick up your phone and look at the notification. You can’t help but roll your eyes as you type out your reply.

Unfortunately, you actually had to consider that.

You’re not exactly strapped for cash or struggling to scrape by, but it sure as hell would make you a lot more secure and comfortable to know you at least have that extra hundred put away in case of an emergency.

…Ugh.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, stumbling through the doorway of the old house, “this is stupid. This is so stupid…”

Somehow, you’ve gotten this far without putting all of this to a stop. Maybe it was the hundred dollars floating just out of reach like a carrot on a stick, maybe it was morbid curiosity, or maybe it was just plain idiocy, but you really let this happen. Wow.

Each step makes the wooden floors creak underfoot, the boards hissing in protest to your weight. You struggle to keep your balance in the tacky heels you were forced into, which are as uncomfortable as they are humiliating. To add insult to…well, another insult, you aren’t even wearing regular clothes under the dress as promised; they made it nearly impossible to get the damn thing on, and it was just too uncomfortable. You were allowed to keep your briefs, at least. Not that that makes you feel any better. Your dignity is strained, to put it lightly.

You scratch at your arm rather aggressively, the itchy fabric of the tulle sleeves irritating the skin there. The entire dress is painfully cheap, and promises an unforgiving rash tomorrow morning. You instinctively reach to where your pocket would normally be to grab your phone, only to be utterly disappointed as the words of your friend echo in your head:

“No modern technology! If he sees you tapping at your weird light box, he’ll freak out! All you have to do is go in, sweep the house, and report back to me.”

Of course, your immediate response was to question why the ghost hunter wasn’t going in; surely the ‘expert’ isn’t scared?

The only answer you got was a rather unceremonious shove towards the house.

You’re in this alone. Great.

You just hope the house doesn’t decide to collapse in on itself tonight. You don’t believe in ghosts, but the decrepit 20th century architecture and the harsh wind whistling through the broken windows are very real. It seems like the entire manor is trying to chase you out, like it’s angry that you’re here, loudly creaking and moaning with every shift or shake to talk you out of taking another step. No wonder this place has sparked so many ghost stories, it’s scary as shit!

You stop in the middle of the foyer, taking a moment to drink in the scenery.

The effects of the fire are obvious, even after all the years of atrophy; the core of the charred blackness lies upstairs, but its countless arms sprawl outwards, clawing at the walls in a desperate attempt to get free. From what you can see, it did not succeed, as the front most part of the house seems to be relatively untouched.

Most of the house was gutted in an estate sale—what could be salvaged, anyways— but a couple of throne chairs and a matching ottoman still remain, now thoroughly gnawed through by all manner of creepy-crawlies. The entire downstairs is covered in a sticky blanket of spiderwebs, as if you needed more evidence of an infestation. Most of the curtains have been left untouched, except by time, though they do little to keep the house warm without any in tact windows. All of glass has been nearly completely shattered by either nature or vandals. You noticed a few graffiti tags and discarded beer cans outside, but the inside looks like it hasn’t had many people in it since the fire. The legends must keep them out.

You look around as you try to discern where to go next. Directly in front of you is a large staircase leading to the upper level of the house, and behind it are a few doors that probably lead to a kitchen, a guest room and the like. On either side are long hallways that curl around, preventing you from seeing where they lead. The living area on your left, with the only remaining pieces of furniture, is enclosed on either side by grand bookcases that once held countless manuscripts and novels. The floor is still discolored from where the rug once laid. The grand chandelier of Damocles above your head sways a bit in the wind, and that makes you swallow nervously; you make the smart decision to move a few steps to the side just in case the diamond daggers come down.

The question is: where do you start?

You could quite easily get turned around in here, especially in the endless hallways of the ground floor. You were given a brief glance at the floor plans, and there was no basement, only the two levels above and below the stairs. The best place to start would be upstairs, you decide— that way you can work your way back to the front door.

Upon closer inspection, though, you realize that physically going up the stairs might be easier said than done, especially in these tacky pumps. Your eyes follow the steps from the bottom up, and each stair is only more burnt and broken than the last. You’ll have to navigate this with utmost caution.

Your first step is shaky, but the wood doesn’t feel too unsteady. You’re careful not to stumble or let the heels of your shoes slip off the back of the stairs as you ascend, holding tightly to the rail. You only lift your hand at about halfway up, when you feel the gradually blackening wood starting to flake off and stick to your palm. The higher you climb, the darker it gets, all of the color of the upstairs completely consumed and overtaken by the fire. It’s like walking into Hell, the last vestiges of light fleeing from the sight as you finally reach the last step.

You linger there for a moment, mouth hanging open just slightly as the reality of the tragedy sets in. Sure, you’d seen pictures, unable to push down the curiosity in the time before your little adventure, but this was…haunting.

Someone actually died here. Holy shit. You’re staring into someone’s grave.

You shudder as another breeze passes through, feeling much colder than before. You can only stare into the pitch black hallway for a moment before an irritated creak from the stairs urges you to quickly move off of them.

Black dust swarms around your ankles as you step onto the upper floor. It seems even more untouched than the lower part of the house. The wind doesn’t come through as loudly here, and suddenly you realize how deathly quiet it got as you came up the stairs. You listen for a moment to see if you can pick up any sound from the outside, but there’s nothing. Not a sound, not a rustle, not a honk from the highway. You don’t even think the rats come up here. Spooky.

You look to your left, down the hallway. Darkness. Complete darkness. The frail gleam of the moon is practically swallowed by the suffocating black.

You look to your right, and see the same thing. You catch a brief glimpse of the dim light reflecting on something.

You look back to the—

Wait.

You double take. The fuck was that?

You turn back to the right, now much more on guard. You squint into the shadows, sure that you saw something against the wall that barely hovered where you could see it.

Nothing moves.

Nothing is there.

You sigh, rolling your eyes at your own stupidity. You’re letting those dumb stories get to you. You just need to get out of here before you catch a disease or fall through the floor and break an ankle.

You decide to keep true, headed straight for the center hall and the master bedroom where it all began. You walk slowly, keeping an arm in front of you to feel for spiderwebs in the windowless hallway, but you encounter none. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen any signs of pests since the stairs. Nothing worth eating up here, you guess.

You can barely see the slight glint of the bedroom doorknob. It shifts and wavers just a bit as you bob with each step, eventually coming close enough to reach out and grab it. You prepare for the spikes of cold metal against your skin, but the sensation you feel is much different.

The doorknob is warm.

Not unbearably hot, no, but warm. Warmer than it has any right to be, enough to make you pull your hand back for a moment.

You swallow hard.

It must be because the wind doesn’t come through here, you rationalize; this hall has no windows, there’s rooms on both sides—it’s not as drafty as the rest of the house. That must be it.

You grasp the knob again, turning it slowly…so as to not break it, of course.

The door creaks open loud enough to make you wince, like you’re worried someone will hear and come bustling in to scold you for being up past your bedtime. The room looks rather well preserved, and it doesn’t start to sink in how odd that is until you’ve already stepped inside, and then the door shuts behind you on its own. That startles you enough to crash your train of thought.

You quickly spin around to look at the door, staring for a few moments to see if it’ll move. It stays still, the ornate wooden carvings looking back at you like sharp eyes, waiting to see if you, too, will make a move.

The room is, for lack of a better term, dead. Any sound that tries to make its way in dies outside the walls, and even the particles floating in the air seem frozen, cursed to forever hover in the beams of moonlight. A ghostly glow is cast over everything, an ethereal blanket that makes the air feel heavy. You take a step further into the room, and it feels like walking on the ocean floor. You’re numb, yet you can feel your skin clinging to your bones.

You really shouldn’t be here.

Then, a flickering light in the corner of your eye catches your attention. It startles you, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, enough to make you jump as you turn to it. The glimmering brilliance blinds you for a moment, and you don’t realize what you’re looking at until your eyes focus again.

On the bedside table, its illuminating aura casting quivering shadows on the walls, is a sterling silver candelabra holding tightly to three lit candlesticks. The engraved vines snake their way up its arms and around its base, almost as if trying to hold it still. It looks like a priceless antique, but it shines like it’s brand new. A moment ago the room was completely dark, and now it’s aglow with the white-blue candlelight. The flames swirl in your pupils, hypnotizing you with their unnatural hue as they dance like skilled ballerinas, flicking up into a perfect arabesque before relaxing into a soft adagio, beckoning you closer without you even realizing.

You don’t see how close you’ve gotten until you’re nearly upon it. Your fingers twitch, nearly aching to reach out and hover over the fire. Without a conscious decision, your hand starts to lift, like moving through water. It floats just above the candles, and you feel no heat, nor do you see any smoke. It’s like a projection onto the air itself.

You barely stop yourself from dipping a finger into the flames. You know logically that you’ll be burned—or at least, you should be—but the fire calls to you nonetheless. For just a moment, everything is different; you aren’t yourself. There’s a dark cloud forming in your mind, and then suddenly it dissipates at the startling sound of a voice behind you.

You whip your head around so fast your neck nearly snaps. You squint into the darkness, still as a statue, expecting to see your friend standing there or perhaps even a fellow explorer whose curiosity got the better of them. You’re not even sure what the voice said, but it was certainly human…or, at least, something that’s quite good at sounding human.

You see no one.

You’re just as alone as you were.

You turn to face the room fully, but you move too fast. Your hand bumps the bedside table, knocking the candelabra off of it. You panic as you scramble to catch the candleholder, not even thinking about the possibility of burning your hands. You manage to reach out at the last second and get your palm beneath it, and you expect to feel the weight of the cool silver against your skin, but you never do.

You watch with your own eyes as the candelabra phases right through your flesh.

You think for a split second that perhaps you just missed, but there’s no clatter against the wood floor either. The candelabra disappears with as much ceremony as it first materialized, leaving only a few sapphire embers that jump from the wicks before fading away as well. The moon’s beams on your back is the only surviving light.

You can feel the freezing of your blood as it crystallizes into solid ice, the unbearable sensation blooming in your stomach before snaking its way down your limbs. You want to scream, but you can only muster a gasp as you stumble backwards in shock. You trip over your own feet, falling back onto the bed.

Your vision starts to fill with black spots as your mind struggles to wrap around what it just witnessed. You keep seeing that split second in time when you watched it go through you, that single moment where it was halfway through your solid form before it was gone. Unsure what else to do, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying desperately to calm yourself.

You lay there for a few moments, unable to make yourself get up or move at all. All at once your mind is racing, yet you’re unable to think at all. You try to force yourself to calm down, to will your heart to quiet, but you can’t push the thought of the candelabra out of your mind.

You’re not sure why, but you cover your face. Your entire body tenses for a brief moment before you finally break your barrier of panic. Slowly, but surely, you relax again. Your chest is still heaving, but you can finally form a semi-coherent thought.

…What the hell just happened?

You don’t have an answer for that. At least, not right now.

That’s okay, you sure yourself. You’re fine. You need to just get out of here. You can lie and say you saw a shadowy figure or something.

You pull your hands away from your face, blinking a few times as your eyes focus and adjust to the bright light.

Hold on.

The what?

No, you’re really seeing that…?!

Just above you is a hovering form, glowing in the darkness of the bedroom. For a second it only looks like a luminous cloud, but then the finer features become clear, coming into form like a time lapse of a painting.

You notice the eyes first. They’re a brilliant blue, even more so than the rest of the body, like heavy gems being cradled by translucent clouds. You notice the hair next, long, silky and wavy, looking like it may have once been blond despite the blue tint, and floating as though in zero gravity. The nose is slender and straight, and the lips are devoid of warmth and slightly parted as if pleasantly surprised. The rest of the body is wrapped in a dark suit, accented with a light blue tie and a matching lily boutonnière with drooping petals.

You put it together in an instant; the attire, the house, the fire…

…The groom.

Your throat goes dry as sandpaper.

He’s smiling down at you a terrifying amount of genuine affection. He tilts his head just slightly, observing you as your mouth gapes and eyes widen in shock. You struggle for words, but only manage to choke out one thing:

“Claude...?!”

His grin only widens when he hears his name from your lips.

“Ohh, my love,” he sighs, his thickly accented voice echoing in the back of your head as if speaking directly into your mind, “I was wondering where you went…”

He reaches out to stroke your cheek, and it feels like cold fog on your skin. He’s trembling as much as you are.

“You’ve returned, you’ve returned…” he mumbles like a chant. He leans in with both hands on the sides of your face, gently bumping his forehead against yours. The contact makes your entire body shiver, and you have to stop your teeth from chattering. You know you should say something, stop him, move away…but what can be done?

You’re frozen.

His hands on your face are starting to make your skin tingle, like pins and needles in your cheek. The sensation lingers when he finally pulls away, and you can’t stop yourself from rubbing the feeling away on your shoulder.

There’s a beat of silence between you for a moment. He looks down at you, gentle smile never wavering despite the terror that’s surely on your face. He doesn’t seem to realize at all that you’re not happy to see him. Something in his eyes makes you feel like he’s looking through you, or perhaps not truly seeing you at all.

You bristle when he moves lower, hollow hands grasping at your ankles before sliding upward, lifting the cheap layered skirt of the bride costume. The cold feeling creeping up your leg makes you yelp, and you instinctively kick at him. Your tacky heel slips off and falls to the floor with your foot still floating inside his abdomen. Oh god, it feels like stepping in refrigerated jello.

Claude pauses. For a moment you’re worried you’ve angered him, that now you’ve invoked

the wrath of a restless spirit, but then he laughs. He laughs as though you’d simply told him something funny, and then his hands continue working their way up your legs.

“Always so spirited,” Claude chuckles, hands now firmly on your thighs, “I always did love that about you, ma femme…”

He leans over you, and you want to sink into the mattress as far as possible. Your legs tremble uselessly as they dangle over the edge of the bed, unable to make you run.

“W-Wait, hold on—“ you stammer, but you choke on your words when he dips down to kiss your neck. Each little press of his lips is like a shock to your system. Normally, you wouldn’t be so sensitive, but the feeling is so foreign and overwhelming you can’t help but arch your back. His hands slide up and down your waist, skirt now bunched around your hips, and you can barely feel the cold through the costume.

He either doesn’t hear you or doesn’t acknowledge your words. He keeps working his way down your neck, hands moving around to your back and fumbling with the zipper down the bodice of your dress. You don’t realize what’s happening before suddenly the costume is being pulled off your shoulders.

“Wait, wait—!” you say again, with a bit more volume this time. This makes him stop, pulling away and looking at you with confusion, and maybe even a bit of hurt.

“Darling, what’s the matter?” he asks, stroking your hair, “Are you nervous? Don’t be…”

“N-No, you don’t understand…!” you insist, but the longer you look in his eyes, the less you want to fight him.

“Can’t you tell? I-I’m not…you know…”

You trail off, gesturing vaguely to yourself. Surely he can tell you’re not his Suzanne…?

His eyebrows furrow. He’s clearly not understanding what you’re getting at, but then his eyes light up with a realization.

“…Oh…I see…” he mumbles, looking away from you in thought. You finally relax, breathing a sigh of relief. Looks like you managed to get through to—

“Oh, darling, I don’t care if you’re not a virgin!”

…What?

You open your mouth to correct him, but no sound comes out. He kisses you, you think, but it’s so fast you only feel the slight coolness on your lips.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” he continues, “you’re still my beautiful wife. No more delay, let me show you how much I love you.”

Before you can blink the costume has been pulled off of you. You’re left in only your boxers and one shoe, head spinning as you struggle to make any sense of the situation.

How does he not see? You think, you don’t look anything like Suzanne, gender disparity aside…!

No, wait…what was it they said in that old ghost movie?

“Ghosts see what they want to see.”

The sudden understanding barely breaks through as Claude dives into your neck again, the other side this time, mumbling and sighing against your skin in slurred French.

There’s no reasoning with him, you realize, he wants you to be his wife. He needs you to be her. He’s been waiting here so long for her to return, he doesn’t even know he’s dead.

Oh, god…

His hands run up and down your bare chest, and the freezing touch makes your nipples harden. They trail lower, like cold water running down your body, pausing at the waistband of your boxers. He floats downward to nuzzle into your thigh, and the sight of him looking up at you with those big, blue eyes makes your stomach flip.

“Oh, mon amour, won’t you let me…?” he asks, tugging at your boxers, “I simply can’t rest until I’ve had you…”

Can’t rest, he says…

Is that what he’s been waiting for all these years?

They say ghosts only stick around if they have unfinished business, right? Is this…is this what he needs?

You suck in a deep breath, unable to look away from his eyes.

Well…if it might work, it’s worth a shot, right? You’re doing this for him, after all.

At least that’s what you’ll tell yourself tomorrow morning.

Fuck it.

“Yes.”

The way his expression quite literally lights up makes your face go hot.

He wastes no time, pulling off your boxers with utmost enthusiasm. The fall to the floor, immediately forgotten once he’s dropped them. You resist the urge to suck in a harsh breath as your half hard cock is exposed to the air. You’re already bracing yourself for the inevitable feeling of his cold touch.

For the first time, you really see him pause. He’s staring down at your length, gears turning in his head but not working quite right, like he’s on the verge of snapping out of a trance. You gulp. If he’s found you out, you might be screwed.

The silence stretches on for an almost awkward amount of time.

Then, without warning, the love returns to his eyes, and a split second later his tongue comes out to lick a long stripe up your shaft. You nearly scream, barely managing to cover your mouth in time. Fuck, that’s cold!

It’s clear that he’s not all that knowledgeable about what to do with a dick, but he’s giving it a hell of a try. He makes sure his tongue doesn’t neglect a single spot on your length, and he doesn’t miss the little squeal he gets when he flicks gently at the tip. He tries to take it in his mouth, but forcing your cock down his throat is clearly uncomfortable for him, even if he can’t choke on it. Nonetheless, he tries, rubbing at whatever he can’t fit in his mouth with his hand. He’s not afraid of moaning, either, and the vibrations it sends through you can never be replicated by any toy.

You do your best to lay back and enjoy it despite the bizarre situation. You manage to clear your mind for only a moment before you feel two of his fingers brushing against your hole. You gasp, tensing on instinct. You can feel him smirk around your cock before he pulls off of it for a moment.

“Ahh, there it is…” he says lowly before promptly busying his mouth once more.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip as two of his fingers slip in, the cold instantly penetrating your core. This seems to be a skill he’s much more adept at; he’s far less hesitant, and far more graceful. He stretches you in just the right ways, exploring your waiting hole with a confidence that easily surpasses any of your past partners. His fingers slip in and move around so easily, without any struggle or pain. You’re almost upset you’ll never feel this again.

Try as you might to be quiet, you can’t bite back the moan that crawls out of your throat when the pads of his fingers press against your prostate. He chuckles as best he can with your dick down his throat. He presses again, gentler this time, clearly enjoying the drawn out while it gets from you.

It’s getting harder and harder to keep quiet as he hits all the right spots over and over again. He’s evidently a quick learner, too, as he’s already picked up on the best ways to use his tongue around your length. You can feel yourself twitching in his mouth.

He slips in a third finger, and as it pushes in you nearly see stars. Tingly static crawls up your body like dye soaking into fabric, invading the deepest crevices of your nervous system. God, that’s good.

You’re not sure how long it’s been when he finally pulls away, leaving you suddenly empty and far too warm for comfort. You’re too dizzy to question what’s going on when he flips you onto your stomach, but you don’t have to ask questions. You shudder as he leans over you, his chest against your back, engulfing your body with an icy sensation.

“Oh, ma belle femme, how lucky I am to have you,” he whispers in your ear, voice choked and shaky, “I can feel you trembling underneath me. Just sit still, my darling…”

You can hear him rustling with his clothes behind you, but don’t bother to look back. Your cock is practically begging for more of his touch.

After a moment he leans over you again, this time laying his hands over yours. He feels nearly weightless, like a cloud resting on top of you.

“Je peux enfin t’emmener…”

You don’t have a second to process his words before suddenly he’s pushing into you. You don’t bother trying to hide your voice, and neither does he, droning on and whispering sweet nothings you can barely understand as your mind is completely melted by the feeling of the penetration.

You nearly collapse against the mattress, but he manages to catch your hips just in time. You claw at the sheets as he fills you to the base, and the blankets do little to muffle your cries. For a brief moment you wonder if anyone outside could hear you, but that worry is quickly pushed aside when you feel him pulling back. You dig your nails into your palm so hard you’re sure it’ll leave marks as you prepare for what’s about to come.

The first thrust feels like it might break your mind. The head of his pale cock butts hard against your prostate, making you shriek like you never thought you could. You nearly tear a hole in the bedsheets with your desperate attempt

to find some sort of relief, and yet you don’t want any at all. Your body might be shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, but against all logic, your mind is screaming more, more, more!

“C-Claude—!” you yelp as he slams into you once more.

“Suzanne!” he echoes in turn, ecstasy dripping from his voice, “Suzanne, my love, how I’ve waited for this…!”

He returns to kissing your neck, though much messier than before. He just needs to taste you, sucking and nipping and licking any spare bit of skin he can get to. If he feels so cold, you must feel so warm.

He’s trying to be gentle, to go easy on you, but he’s struggling. You can feel him forcing himself to go slower. You need to encourage him.

“Oh, Claude,” you moan, putting on the girliest voice you can muster, “faster! Faster, my love, please, give me more!”

He’s more than happy to comply, and after a brief adjustment of his hold on you his pace increases tenfold. He’s grunting and huffing like an animal—and you’re underneath him, moaning and whimpering like a girl.

“Suzanne, my darling, we’re going to do it,” he says suddenly, and you have no idea what he means. He pulls you in closer, pressing you against his chest more firmly.

“We’re going to do it,” he repeats, “we’re going to have our family…I want to— no, I need to give you my child.”

The sound that comes out of you is humiliating.

You’ve never wanted anything more than for him to cum inside of you in this moment.

“Yes,” you reply without thinking, “yes, yes!”

He only thrusts into you faster, fueled completely by your mutual desire. Both of his hands are on your hips now, holding tightly and pulling you back against him as he pushes in. The bed is rocking so hard it feels like it might collapse underneath you. Even if it did, neither of you would even consider stopping, not for a second.

He’s starting to lose his rhythm, you realize. He’s just as sensitive as you are. He wants this just as much, if not more. You can’t even string together a coherent sentence to beg for it, all you can do is let the string of pleasured noises fall from your lips, only occasionally managing to say his name. He chants back ‘Suzanne’ like it’s the only word he knows; it’s the only one that matters to him, at least.

You jump when he wraps a hand around your cock, pumping it quickly with little to no consistent pattern. He’s practically milking it, rubbing fast and hard and doing everything in his power to push you to your peak.

“Cum for me, my love,” he huffs, “let me feel you cum around my cock…won’t you give me the privilege?”

“Of course, my darling,” you reply. How could you say no?

Your orgasm starts to build faster than you’re ready for. You can barely choke out an understandable warning before your cock twitches and spills its load, spurting into his hand and certainly dirtying the bedding underneath you. He buries his face in your neck as your hole squeezes him deliciously, making him cry out at the feeling.

“Yes, my love— Oh god, yes!” he almost sobs. He’s completely lost his rhythm now, just rutting into you like a feral dog in heat as he chases his own high.

He gives one last cry of his bride’s name before suddenly he stills, and his cock spills into you. You’re not sure what it feels like—you don’t think any human experience could ever compare—but it’s certainly not unpleasant. It’s not the warm, sticky feeling dripping down your thighs, at least.

You nearly black out for a moment, your head spinning like a top with no relief in sight. Darkness is quickly clouding your vision as you come down from your intense high, and you barely register the gentle kiss Claude presses to your cheek before the cold feeling against your back is gone. You close your eyes then, unable to keep them open any longer.

You’re not sure how long it’s been when you awake again. Logically, it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but you feel like you’ve been asleep for years. You slowly move to sit up, and instantly you’re made painfully aware of the soreness in your legs and lower back. You groan, forcing yourself to move to sit on the edge of the bed.

You’re still very naked, that’s for sure. You look down between your legs, and grimace at the sight of the luminescent ectoplasm glowing in the dim light as it drips from your thighs and ass.

The thing that really stands out, though, is the state of the room. Whatever you saw before must’ve been some sort of ghostly illusion; now you’re surrounded by nothing but charred black, sticking to your legs and palms and floating about in the air in flaky little bits.

Yuck.

You sigh as you will yourself to get up, not enjoying the feeling of your one bare foot on the dusty wood floor. You can barely walk far enough to retrieve the costume dress, let alone bend down and pick it up, but by some divine intelligence you manage.

After redressing to the best of your ability, you limp back downstairs—talk about a walk of shame. Although, despite your embarrassment, you do note that the house feels…emptier. Lighter. It’s nice.

You don’t have an excuse for why you’re so disheveled, or why you’re walking so weirdly, or why you’re so sweaty. You don’t care. You’re going to walk out that door, get your last half of the payment, and go home and get a good night’s sleep knowing that, in some impossibly strange way, you did a good thing.

The one thing you will never admit, though, is that you were very wrong:

Ghosts are real.

And you have the wet dream to prove it.

If you liked this fic, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out.

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

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lalacliffthorne · 1 year ago

Text

because it does have it's perks that Azriel is running cool sometimes

(brought to you by me remembering how awfully sick I was a few months ago, and how I wished for something like this. now you do too. you're welcome.)

“Ugh.” Burying my nose in my pillow, I slowly breathed out through my open mouth, feeling a scowl form on my face, even though it felt a little weak.

I hated being sick.

An awful scratch started forming in my throat, and I coughed, my body shaking with the force of it and tears building at the corners of my eyes from the pain.

Groaning softly, I pushed myself up on an elbow, still coughing lightly, the sound rattling my body as I reached for one of the many cups on the nightstand. The tea within was one of the things Feyre had brought yesterday.

She had appeared in the middle of the apartment out of thin air, cringing at the sound of the cough welcoming her, carrying two bags, one of which contained homemade chicken soup and the other supplies Madja had given her, including drops against the stuffed nose so that I could at least try and sleep at night, teas and syrups against the sore throat, paste for the fever – it felt like she had whizzed once through the whole infirmary.

It was clear Madja had not believed me a bit when I had told her I was fine.

But the whole of Velaris was currently plagued by a rather nasty flu, and she and the other healers had their hands full. It was the only reason I had been helping in the infirmary in the first place – and probably how I had gotten to where I was now: Sick and miserable.

Carefully taking a sip of tea, I pushed the cup back onto my nightstand, breathing against my closed up nose and carefully sinking back into the pillows, my head thrumming with the movement.

Ow.

Blinking, I felt my eyes begin to burn and scowled as I squeezed them shut, breathing through my open lips as I tried to blend out the way my body ached and how my head pulsed.

Help.

I felt a soft brush of air that should not have existed, because all the windows were closed, and when I furrowed my brows and cracked open an eye, my heart skipped weakly.

The last two and a half days, since I had locked myself up to not get anyone else sick, the only person who had visited was Feyre, mostly because when she had appeared in my apartment on the first day without prompt, I had first thrown a pillow at her head for risking to get sick before I made her promise to not let any of the others get in here.

Of course that had not kept him away.

Azriel's eyes moved over the apartment that was unusally dark even in the middle of the day, the curtains drawn because even the halflight made my head pound. His shadows whispered curiously, moving over the big carpet that was covered with tissues, the nightstand crowded by used cups and cans with tea, the sink full of unwashed dishes – and me, buried deep under my blanket and trying to glare at him.

“What are you doing here?”, I croaked, almost cringing at my own voice, hoarse from coughing and nasal from my stuffed nose as I slowly pushed myself up, wincing at the way my head protested. “Get out, you'll get sick.”

Azriel threw me a look, and even if the halflight, I saw the way he scowled back.

“I knew Feyre played this down.” His deep mumble caused my heart to skip weakly again, and I glowered at him.

“Yes, because I told her to, so that no one else would turn up here.” My voice broke with the last word, and a new fit of coughs shook my body, my eyes tearing up as I turned, but before I could reach for my mug, a gloved hand picked it up, and when my gaze darted up, Azriel crouched down next to the bed and handed it to me. A wrinkle had formed between his brows as his gaze moved over my face. His cheekbones were tinged pink from the cold outside, his dark brows were furrowed, his lips looked soft -

Maybe it was the fact that I was so sick, I felt a little delirious. But he looked so beautiful, it made my chest ache.

Forcing down a few sips of tea, I breathed out through my mouth, burying back into the pillows when Azriel took the mug and placed it on the bedside table. The crease on his forehead deepend, and then he slipped off a glove and reached out.

My breath hitched a little, something turning over in my chest, and in reflex, I pulled away.

Something shifted through Azriel's eyes, and his face froze over, his scarred hand stilling in the air.

My heart tightened as I realized what it looked like, and I breathed out in frustration at myself.

“I don't want you to get sick,”, I mumbled, my voice raspy as I dropped my head into the pillow, my lids heavy and eyes burning from being open.

I could feel Azriel's gaze, could feel it piercing the side of my face. Then something brushed my shoulder, and the next, he carefully placed the back of his hand on my forehead.

I sucked in a soft breath, because his skin was cool, even after being under his lined gloves, like it really was freezing outside and he had been flying the whole morning. It felt heavenly.

Which is why I blamed it on the fact I was sick and delirious that when Azriel pulled back his hand, my own shot out to catch it, and without missing a beat, I tugged it close, dragging his whole arm towards me as I tucked Azriel's hand, rough and far bigger than my own, against my chest, almost whimpering with relief when it pressed against my too hot skin.

I could feel the shadowsinger grow rigid. His fingers froze in mine, and I felt my cheeks heat a little more as I cracked open an eye, ready to defend myself. But the words got stuck in my throat.

Azriel was staring at me. His lips were a little agape, the crease still between his brows, but almost smoothed over, like what I had done had made him forget about the reason it had been there in the first place. His fingers twitched, and I already prepared for him to pull his hand out of my grip and away from my body – but then Azriel blinked, and his hand shifted, gently closing around mine as the back of his forefinger carefully stroked over my chest.

“You're burning up,”, he mumbled, and I was almost sure his low voice sounded a little raspy.

“Knew you think I'm hot,”, I mumbled back, my head thrumming as I blinked heavily and grinned weakly, and Azriel rolled his eyes, but for a second, I caught his lips curving.

For a second, his gaze moved over my face, then he blinked and dropped his head, and something flickered a little in my chest when he pulled his other glove off with his teeth, dropping it carelessly as he raised his free hand.

My eyes fluttered shut and a blissful whimper left me when Azriel pressed his palm against my forehead, his thumb slowly brushing over my cheek. I nuzzled my face into his hand, not caring about anything but the fact that his skin was cool, the fever made my body feel like it was on fire and this was the closest to being a little more comfortable I had gotten in days.

My eyes fluttered shut as the movement triggered another wave of pounding headaches, and I coughed lightly, the rattling sound making my own face pull into a wince as I sniffled against my blocked nose.

“I still don't want to get you sick,”, I mumbled, my voice hoarse, and Azriel's hand shifted in mine, his fingers carefully linking with mine as his deep voice gently rumbled over me.

“You won't.”

“I think you're overestimating yourself.” Tipping my head slightly, I stared at him in exhaustion, feeling my lips curve as I raised an eyebrow tiredly. “Even big bad Illyrian warriors can get the flu.”

Azriel's eyes flickered over my face, and the shadow of a crease formed in his cheek. Then he blinked and straightened up, his hands slipping away from me. Something tightened a little in my chest, but when I opened my eyes that had already started to droop again, my heart jumped so high, it got stuck in my throat.

Azriel was stripping out of his chest armor, the winter leathers heavy as he peeled them off and dropped them to the ground with a thud. Muscles shifted under his skin, causing his tattoos to shift as well, like they were moving over his shoulders like his shadows, and suddenly, breathing felt even more difficult than before as my eyes dragged over his torso, chiselled like carved from marble, the dip of his shoulders where they met his neck, the planes of his chest over his lean, muscled middle -

Azriel's thigh holsters with his knives hit the floor, then he kicked off his boots and moved towards me, and I felt my lips part, my voice so croaky I couldn't even blame it onto the flu anymore as I mumbled: “You know, I'm not sure I'm in the shape for that right now -“

Azriel huffed, and I was almost sure to see a twinkle flash through his eyes when he glared at me.

“We need to get your temperature down.” The mattress dipped, and I could just stare with hitching breaths when Azriel climbed over me, dropping onto the mattress and propping himself up until he could spread his wings comfortably. Then he raised his eyes, and something started fluttering weakly against my ribs when they met mine, twinkling just a little bit as he held out his arm. “Come on.”

I felt my lips part, my head thrumming as I stared, stared at the male that just had to be so godsdamned gloriously perfect, and one corner of Azriel's lips twitched a little. Then he softly arched an eyebrow, like a silent challenge.

And maybe it was because there was pain thrumming under my temples and my skin was burning up and I was just utterly exhausted, or the overwhelming urge to be close to him had just finally gotten too much – but I just breathed a soft grumble and turned around, simply flopping onto his chest. My cheek met his skin, my arm wrapping around his middle as I curled into his side, and I almost purred at the sensation of his cool skin against my own, way too hot and flushed.

I would have been completely content like this, my eyes already drooping, ready to doze off to hopefully get a reprieve from the thrum in my head – only the shadowsinger had other plans.

His arm snuck around my back, sliding under me, the other wrapped around my waist, and smoothly, like I weighed nothing, Azriel pulled me up onto his chest.

I almost groaned at the sensation of his cool skin pressing against mine wherever it was exposed. I had long shed any shirts I used for sleeping and was only wearing underwear and a soft bra under a short flimsy thing with thin straps, and I had never been happier about little clothing before.

Draping my arm over his chest, I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck, feeling my eyes flutter shut when just for a second, the pulsing pain in my head seemed to subside a bit. I thought I could feel Azriel shudder a little when my nose brushed over his throat, then I shuffled a bit, pulling up my leg and draping it over Azriel's waist, almost shivering blissfully when my bare thigh pressed against his cool skin.

Azriel's muscles shifted under me. I could feel it ripple through his body as he grew still, his hand tensing where it was pressed against my hip, my top ridden up far enough for his skin to be flush against mine, and my heart stumbled a little.

Suddenly, the pounding in my head was back, only it had transferred to my chest, the ache growing as I felt myself grow stiff, because maybe I had gone too far, crossed a line –

Quickly, I raised my head, almost wincing at the way the movement caused my head to swim, and my eyes found Azriel's, only inches away, so close I could see the golden sprinkles in his honey-colored iris, so close I could count the shadows of the few freckles on his nose.

Azriel blinked. Then something shifted in his eyes, and a deep exhale left him. His head dipped forward, and I simply lost my breath when his arm wrapped tighter around my waist and hauled me up, up until my whole body was completely draped over his, his rough hand slipping under my top and up my back until his whole arm pressed against my spine and his other hand – his other hand grabbed my blanket and threw it over us before it slid under my knee, pulling it up further until his arm slipped under it and his whole forearm was curled around my thigh.

And again, maybe because I was delirious with fever and pain thrumming through my head and whole body, my heart just fluttered softly and warmly as I curled deeper into his chest, burying my face in the crook of his neck and closing my heavy eyes.

And when Azriel pulled me closer, dropping his nose into my hair as his thumb started to gently brush over my spine and I began to slowly doze off, I thought that maybe, just maybe, this stupid flu had turned out to have some perks after all.

#azriel #az #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel imagine #azriel/reader #az x reader #az imagine #az/reader #acotar x reader #acomaf #acotar #acowar #lalacliffthorne #azriel drabble

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thewritersaddictions · 1 year ago

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Day Twenty-Five: Joel Miller + Pregnancy

Your belly wasn't huge just yet. Four months along and you were growing more beautiful by the day. Joel was scared at first when you told him that you were pregnant. Then all that feared melted away into happiness. A deep seeded happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. Not to say that you didn't make him happy, Joel just never thought he'd get the chance again.

You'd grown fuller in the days leading up to the fourth month of your pregnacy. Your hips a little bit wider, shirt a little bit tighter that were already opting to borrow Joels much looser shirts.

The thing that Joel loved the most about your pregnancy so far had been the way your breasts had only grown along side your belly.

Joel would lay next to you almost every morning. His head pressed into the soft plush breasts that had become his new pillows over the past few months.

This morning was like no other, Joel's black curls tickling your exposed skin as the morning sun fluttered in through moth eaten curtains. Your arm wrapped around the older man in a gently, and doting way. You didn't dare move as not to stir the man awake.

You just watched as his body moved up and down with every long and deep breathe he took. His head once again rested in the valley of your breasts. You moved your hand slightly in an effort to comb through the black curls that were peppered with grey.

"Good mornin' sweetheart." Joels morning voice is a mix of just the right amount of texas drawl, and rusty morning voice and it makes you heat up instantly. "Mornin' baby." Continuing to stare down at Joel, "You know starin' is rude." You roll your eyes.

Joel moves ever so slightly to get a bit more comfortable. "Look at that belly of yours." Joel loves the way you look, and loves it even more now that you have started wearing his clothes. Right now though is his favorite. Your naked body under a thin layer of sheet. You're beautiful, and everything to him.

You can feel the hard on Joel is sporting as it presses into your thigh. He ruts into your plushy thighs a few times absent mindly. 'So pretty in the mornin' baby. Did you know that?" He asks, you hum closing your eyes. As Joel starts to caress his hands up and down your body. Doing circles on your protruding belly.

"Ya did? I think I'll tell you again just how much I love your body." Joel whispers into your skin. His hands are getting ever so closer to your heat. You can't help but want to lure him in, so you spread your legs open.

"Are you trying to seduce me darlin'?" Joel asks, sounding more awake by the second. "Maybe." You tease, he eyes you for a moment longer before reaching down between your open thighs. Collect two fingers worth of slick. When he brings his hand from between your legs. You watch as he archs a brow, and then sticks his fingers into his mouth.

Moaning around them, "Taste so sweet for me baby." He murmurs. Joels shifts once again. His elbow digging into the bed, giving him a better advantage as he take a nipple into his mouth. He sucks on the bud bringing it to life as then he starts to divide his attention. His mouth plays with your tit, and his hand plays with your clit.

Wet fingers playing and teasing your clit sends shotting nevers up and down your back. Moans hit the twenty plus year old walls in the small apartment. When Joel slips two of his longest fingers into you, your wet walls pull him in. He pulls off of your harden, and redden nipple with a smirk. "So fuckin' tight sweetheart. God I fuckin' love it." His hips rut into yours, as you feel his hard on pulse againt you.

"I can feel you pulsing agasint my fingers, you turned on by just my mouth, and fingers baby?" It's not really a question to be answered, Joel already knows that answer. As he continues to finger you, your head falling back into the pillow. Legs starting to twitch, Joel can see all that you're right on the edge.

Your breathing picks up, your legs start to shake harder then ever before. Your toes curl as your walls tighten around Joels fingers. "There's you go sweetness, cum all over my fingers baby. Do it for me." He doesn't need to coax you but you fall over the edge at his words.

Once again moans boucnes on the wall, and your thigh feels sticky. Joel doesn't take long to get up cleaning up his mess on him, and your thigh before taking care of you. A water for you to sip on. "Damn hot mama." He says as he walks stark naked back into the room. Holding that water in his hands. "You're so beautiful baby." He says as he lays back down in his spot.

Completed on: 08/14/23

Posted on: 10/25/23

Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

The Last Of Us Master list // Kinktober '23

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seeingivy · 1 year ago

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you belong with me

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: high school!au, gojo is a robotics nerd, reader is class president, emo nanami (my beloved), toji is ur shitass football playing boyfriend, typical cheesy highschool drama

an: tell me why posting this is giving me a tummy ache like I haven't posted for gojo in forever and now i think I suck at it :OOO anyways, please be nice to me about this and close your eyes if you hate it. also, totally reliving my high school days when I was senior class vice president (worst experience of my life) FDLJFKDSJFLS

You’re a hater. A self proclaimed, real-life, deep in your soul hater.

What do you hate today? Being class president.

You hate that you willingly ran, somehow won, had people up your ass all day about stuff that wasn’t in your control, and got stuck in the current situation you were in. Which was arguing with your boyfriend Toji, as you pace around your room and do your own fair share of screaming back.

“You just did that shit because you were pissed at me.”

“I did not, Toji. You know, not everything is about you. Other people needed the money and I put it where it was needed.”

“To the color guard team? Babe, no one gives a fuck about the color guard team. Everyone is at the homecoming game to watch the football team. Not a bunch of idiots waving flags in the air.”

“They’re also part of the game and all their equipment is broken. They need it more than you when you guys literally get donors and funding from the district and-”

“You’re just pissed about the sweetheart thing. That’s why you’re doing this shit and taking it out on everyone else.”

“Toji, I’m not even mad about-”

You’re met with the sound of ringing over the phone, signaling that Toji had enough and finally hung up on you. You flop straight onto your bed, pushing your face so hard into your pillow that sits uncomfortably against your nose and the smell of your laundry detergent makes its way to the crevices of your brain.

You hear a banging behind you and twist around to see Gojo pointing at his walkie-talkie, switching it on as you reach for yours. It’s still covered in glittery pink stickers from when you were seven, the silver coming off on your hand every time you grab it.

“Come in, bunny.”

“Loud and clear, Toru.”

He smiles, setting his hardware down - probably for another weird ass robot he was making - as he holds it up to his face, talking again.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just arguing with Toji, again. I’ll start allocating some of our funds to get you some sound proof windows.”

“Much appreciated, Madam President. That’s very generous of you.”

You laugh, dropping the walkie talkie to lift your fingertips to your temples, lightly massaging the pulsating under your skin.

“For what it’s worth, the color guard team is really grateful you did that for them. I know Utahime was so excited when the new flags came in, she was flipping them around on the field for hours.”

“That’s why it’s even more annoying. I know what I did was right, but he just doesn’t see it that way. Uta dragged me down to the field to watch them and their choreography looks so much better with the multicolored flags. They were really happy about it.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown?”

“Heavy is the head that’s dating Toji Fushiguro.”

He laughs as you switch your channel off, taking the last few seconds to study you before you draw your curtains. He can see the tension sitting in your shoulders and how clearly it hurts you to argue with Toji like this. And it infuriates him. That you even have to go to sleep angry and that the cause is the headass idiot you’re dating.

Toji Fushiguro is lucky, far more lucky than he realizes. Not for obvious reasons. Yeah, he’s a great football player and yeah, he’ll probably get scouted for some really good university at the end of the year. He doesn’t have a shortage of friends or intelligence and for all intents and purposes, he’s loved (which Gojo doesn’t understand at all).

He’ll probably be that scumbag that people see a few years down the line and then get infuriated at. Because if an absolute asshat like Toji Fushiguro can be successful, then truly all things have gone to shit. That the patriarchy is real, that society is broken, living proof that the asshole always wins and everyone else always loses.

But no, those are common reasons to hate Toji Fushiguro - ones he’s heard echoed by Suguru and Shoko every time he does something that pisses the two of them off. Like scream obscenities in the hallways, block their parking spots when they’re going to class, call them names when they walk by.

No. Toji Fushiguro is lucky because he gets to date you. Because out of the long list of girls he had to pick one, Toji just had to pick the one that was his. The girl he’s been in love with since he moved in right across the street and had a smiley neighbor excitedly waving at him through her bay window.

To him, love has always been the pigtail braids you used to wear everyday in the fourth grade, the matching walkie-talkies you bought him in sixth grade when he got grounded, and that sweet smile you’ve had since the first day he’s met you.

And when he sees those green curtains pulled against the bay window he’s stared at for years, where he’s loved you from for years, he lifts the walkie and says what he forgot to mention.

I love you.

Thanks to your gracious ride, you make it to school thirty minutes early. Your intuition - that Toji was ditching you as your ride to school this morning - was correct. Luckily, you made it in time just before class started.

Nanami’s already seated on the green bench outside the classroom, headphones plugged into his ears. As you walk up, you silently wonder how much hair gel it takes to keep his Gerard Way hairstyle in place.

“Hi Kento! How is my best friend doing on this fine morning?”

“We’re not best friends.”

“Sure we are!”

You reach forward and pinch his cheek in your hand, which he only swats off and rolls his eyes at. That’s how you know your best friends. Because if it was anyone else, Nanami would probably break their hand and walk away. But he always lets you tease him, because he know he loves you.

“Are you still fighting with that dog?”

“That dog has a name. And it’s Toji. And I’m not sure, he didn’t pick me up for school this morning.”

“Did he at least tell you he wouldn’t?”

“No. I was lucky enough that Satoru had walked Megs to the bus stop a little late and I was able to get a ride with him.”

Nanami looks over, narrowing his eyes at you, as the hallway starts getting crowded with people. And you know what he’s saying, what he’s been saying for the past few months.

“You know, it’s very normal to give your neighbor a ride when they need one. Not everything has ulterior motives, Kento.”

“That’s true. Everything doesn’t have ulterior motives. But he does. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“How does he look at me, Kento?”

“Like he’d kiss the ground you’d walk on.”

You roll your eyes, reaching up to mess up his perfectly styled hair. It doesn’t budge and you get a handful of minty smelling hair gel.

“As if.”

Like you’ve summoned him by bringing him up, Satoru’s sidestepping to where you and Nanami are sitting, Shoko and Getou in tow with him.

“Nanami~~ How’s my best friend doing?” Satoru says, bending over to totally obscure Nanami’s line of vision.

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.” Nanami responds.

Nanami stands up, giving you a look, before he stalks away to his next class. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and Getou standing in front of your classroom.

“So. I hear you have a robotics competition?” you ask.

“Yeah. Next Saturday. We always practice our hardware out the night before, throw a little party in the lab. You should come.” Getou says, smiling at you.

Satoru smacks Getou in the stomach right after he invites you, clearly trying to tell him something with his eyes. And then when he catches you staring, he gives you a nervous laugh.

You get it. He doesn’t want you there.

“Don’t act too excited to see me now, Satoru. Anything more and I might think you like me.” you bite sarcastically.

“What? No, it’s not like that. I just-” Satoru stutters,

“So you don’t like me?” you say, smirking at him. Shoko and Getou are laughing, the tips of Satoru’s turning pink as he very adamantly tells you that he does indeed like you.

“I have stuff to set up for the homecoming game that day, so I won’t be able to. But I’ll try my best, yeah?”

“Okay. Next time?” Getou asks.

“Sure, Sugar-u. I’ll see you guys around, yeah?”

You give the three of them a polite smile as you trudge away, leaving to meet Toji at his locker and give him a piece of your mind for this morning. Which leaves Shoko and Getou to give Satoru the scolding of his life.

“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru? You made it seem like you didn’t want her there.” Shoko says, smacking him on the back of the head.

“I panicked! Plus, Haibara always likes to play Just Dance and I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of her.” Satoru responds, rubbing the now sore spot on the back of his head.

“You’re hopeless, Satoru. She’s never going to like you if you keep rejecting her the way you do.” Suguru says, dragging him along to the robotics lab.

“She has a boyfriend. Who isn’t me. As if she would even consider dating me in the first place.”

And when the three of them pass you by the lockers, clearly getting yelled at by Toji, it only furthers their argument more.

“Yeah, I’m sure she really loves him, Satoru.”

Your argument with Toji hours prior simmers in your head, as you wait for the bus to arrive and for this godforsaken day to finally be over. You watch him pile into his car with Salma and the other boys from the football team, which only makes your anger fester more.

He’s doing this to piss you off. Of course, he’s doing this to-

“Need a ride?”

You look up and unclench your fists to find Satoru, sparkly blue eyes shining at you and a hand held out to you.

“Thanks.”

He leads you to his car, an almost demolished Honda Civic from his maniacal driving, and you climb in, immediately putting your head in your hands. You can feel him moving around you, the engine purring on and him backing out of the spot.

“About earlier. I don’t not want you to come to the robotics thing. I just thought it was awkward the way he asked you and I-I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come, you know? And I-I’d like it if you came too and so would the rest of us.” he rambles, a hand in his hair.

You look up, his ears tinted pink from the confession.

“I was just teasing you, Satoru. I’ll try to make it by, okay?”

He sighs, a clear breath of relief, and looks over to smile.

“Okay, cool cool cool. Now tell me why you and Toji are fighting.”

“When aren’t we fighting?” you murmur, pressing your head against the glass.

“But why?”

And when you look over, his blue eyes staring into yours, in earnest while the light is red, you unload it all.

“Do you know about the sweethearts thing they do at the homecoming game?”

“Uh. That’s when the cheerleaders wear the jerseys right. And then decorate the locker room or some shit for the players.”

“Yeah. Well, it’s not limited to cheerleaders. It usually is, but if you’re dating someone, that person can do it for you.”

“So I’m guessing Toji doesn’t want you to do it for him.”

“Not exactly. He was just saying that it’s more traditional for a cheerleader to do it since they’re also on the side of the track and he wants to see his name out there instead of running around, trying to make sure the game is running and all that.”

You slump into the chair as Satoru frowns, a pitying look in his eyes, as he keeps driving. You can’t help but watch him, his silhouette against the window - defined jaw, the slope of his nose.

He’s not the guy who ran away from kissing you in the eighth grade. He’s just ten times hotter.

You shake your head, letting the thought spill from your mind, as Satoru looks over.

“Jamoca?” he says, giving you a wide grin.

You can’t help but laugh, nodding as Satoru makes a sharp left turn, making his way to the ice cream shop.

Jamoca is your favorite ice cream flavor. Coffee, layered with fudge and almonds, became a proclaimed favorite when Satoru dragged you once in the sixth grade. After very sorely losing the class president battle, you moped in your room for five days - even going as far as borrowing one of Nanami’s My Chemical Romance vinyls to truly and properly mope.

On day three of blasting the vinyl, Satoru called enough and dragged you to the closest ice cream store, claiming it was the closest thing to therapy that you normies could afford. Since then, any bad day was easily solved with two things.

Jamoca and Satoru.

When you make it to the store, Satoru’s excitedly dragging you out of the car, his hand pressed in yours as you both run into the store, giggling while you order your single scoops. And when he drags you out to the curb and you sit there, you silently think to yourself why you ever stopped doing this in the first place.

Satoru leans over, digging his chocolate fudge covered spoon into your cup, before talking.

“So. If you guys fight so much, why are you still dating?”

“Dunno. Feels weird to initiate a breakup, I guess. I can’t see myself doing it.”

“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart?”

“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart.”

You kick the pebbles into the broken parts of the pavement, leaning your elbows on your knees.

“I don’t know, Toru. I guess he was just the first guy who ever liked me back and then I….spent so much time in the relationship and trying to make it work that it feels weird to let it go now.”

Satoru swallows hard, eyeing his melting ice cream, as he ponders the best response. Because in earnest, he has two options. Support you or be selfish. Support you to stay with Toji, to do what you’ve been doing because he knows it’s what you want. Or be selfish. Tell you that he you deserve better, that he could be that for you if you just let him.

He reaches over, flicking you in the forehead.

“Ouch, asshole.”

“You’ve got a really big brain in there. And you always have. You’ll figure out the right thing to do, just give it time.”

And when you give him a halfhearted smile, reaching over into his cup for a bite of his ice cream, he lets it go.

He can’t be selfish. Not when it comes to you anyways.

After running around all day, you give yourself thirty minutes to go to Satoru’s robotics thing. After triple checking the microphones work, the yearbook team has access to the field, the glitter has been set out for everyone trickling in, and that everyone who could possibly need your phone number has it, you speed run to the other side of campus, to the robotics lab.

And when you make it, the five of them - Haibara, Nanami, Shoko, Getou, and Satoru - are in the room playing Just Dance. Shoko’s sitting on top of the desk, flippantly moving her remote in the air, while Satoru quite literally is trying to give it all he’s got - and losing apparently.

You lightly push the door open, which stops the two of them in their tracks, and you’re met with some very excited cheers as they all drag you into the room. You take a seat next to Nanami, giving his cheek a pinch, which he hates.

“You’re Haibara, right?”

“You know who I am?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re friends with Nanami and Nanami and I are best friends.”

“No we aren’t.” responds Nanami, now sulking two seats away from you.

“Are too.”

You throw the nearest object, a pencil at Nanami, as you turn back to Haibara and laugh.

“I like your shirt. Flight of the Navigator is a really good movie.”

You see Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru’s eyes widen in the back at your words and hear a considerable amount of groaning from Nanami behind you. And after twenty minutes, you find out why.

Haibara really, really loves Flight of the Navigator. Almost too much. In earnest, you barely remember the movie - at most, maybe the weird little alien companion he has. But here Haibara is, reciting the cast, the directors, acting out the scenes and it’s clear to you that you’ve tapped into some monster they all keep hidden.

Luckily for you, Satoru comes to your rescue.

“Okay, Haibara. I’m going to steal her for you for some Just Dance.”

“I don’t Just Dance Satoru.”

“Oh yeah? You’re just saying that because you know you’re going to lose.”

You scoff, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“As if, sweetheart. I distinctly remember you banning us from ever playing that game together after I beat you in the fifth grade.”

“You’re rusty. Maybe we’ll start with something easy. Like Rasputin.”

“I could do Rasputin in my sleep, bitch.”

“Prove it.”

You roll your eyes as you march over to the front, where they’re projecting the game onto the screen. And just for posterity’s sake, you take Satoru’s sunglasses from where they were flipped over on the desk and put them on, effectively blinding yourself from the screen.

And when the songs start, you can hear them all laughing behind you, Satoru and you hurling insults at each other as you dance on. And somewhere around the middle, you’re sure Satoru must be losing because he grabs your hands and suddenly he’s swinging you around in the air, his hands on your waist as you laugh.

And when you take your blindfold off and the song dies down, Satoru wins by five points.

“You asshole. You literally cheated, Satoru.”

“Did not. You’re just a sore loser, bitch.”

“You kiss your mom with that mouth?”

“Every night, sweetheart.”

You put the palm of your hand in his face as you push him away, moving to sit on the desk. He joins you, the two of you now watching Haibara and Nanami have a very one sided dance battle.

After forty-five minutes, Satoru’s phone buzzes three times and the smile on his face drops when he checks. You place your hand on his, squeezing twice before asking.

“You okay?”

“Huh. Oh, yeah. I-I think you should go to the field. Right now.”

“Wait, what? But you hate that kind of-”

He grabs your hand, dragging you out, as you both start running to the field. You keep asking as he pulls you on, getting almost no response and only a faster pace.

And when you reach the field, you catch just the end of it and the only thing grounding you to that moment is Satoru and Utahime, who was surely the one who had texted Satoru, holding onto your shoulders.

Salma, the cheerleader Toji picked to be his sweetheart, just asked him to homecoming during halftime. And he said yes.

Utahime squeezes your hand three times, a soft look in her eyes when she talks.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just thought you would want to know and I wanted to tell you because you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

You smile, moving into her open arms as you whisper a small thank you into her shoulder. She leaves, having to return to the color guard team waiting for her on the side, leaving you and Satoru standing on the pavement right by the field.

“Take you home?”

“Thanks, Toru.”

“You want Jamoca?”

“Not today.”

He nods, a hand on the small of your back, as he leads you to his car, even going as far as opening the door for you and letting you crack the windows while you drive back - which you know he hates.

At the first red light, he taps on the top of your head to get your attention.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“What? Of course, not. Toji is just an asshat who doesn’t see you for what you’re worth and-”

“No. No, no. Not like that. Do you think there’s something wrong with me because I’m not even the tiniest bit sad right now? I’m…relieved.”

Satoru looks over, the red front the traffic light flashing on your face, and a blank expression staring back at him.

“Of course, not. He’s a grade one idiot. Anyone in your position would feel that way, bunny.”

“I know. That’s true.”

“But?”

“Does this make me defective, Satoru? Like, maybe I just can’t like people that much or something and I was the problem.”

Satoru twiddles his thumbs on the steering wheel, pondering the same question he has been asking for the past few days. Encourage her or be selfish.

He can’t be selfish with you.

“Okay, Y/N. Close your eyes.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it.”

“Okay.”

He looks over, to find you eyelids fluttering shut, your face lit up by the streetlights outside.

“Now. Tell me about your dream guy, bunny.”

“What are you going on ab-”

“Just do it.”

You sigh, before thinking hard about his question.

“Someone I can be comfortable with. That’s my type. Like we can have fun together and play games but also being around them is comforting to me. Things might suck, but at least they are there to kind of pick me up at the end of the day. They’re nice to people and are surrounded by good company, because you are who you love and they try to be better each day.”

After finishing, you open your eyes to find Satoru staring at you, an all-knowing look on his face.

“Bunny?”

“Toru?”

“Does that sound anything like Toji to you?”

You slump back into your chair, sinking down.

“No.” you murmur.

“You aren’t defective. Well, maybe in the higher level cognitive thinking part because you clearly have some impaired decision making but-”

“Hey. Don’t be rude, asshole.”

“Get out of the car.”

You crane your head out the window to see you’re in fact not at your house, but at the ice cream store. And when he comes around to your side of the car, opening your door, he drags you out, the two of you eating you ice cream in the light of the dingy lamp outside the store.

You knock hard on your window, only stopping when Satoru looks up from his desk, dropping the pencil he was just scribbling with. You point to your walkie talkie, switching on the channel as he grabs his.

“Hi bunny. You look nice.”

“Thank you. Are you coming tonight?”

To homecoming. Because despite all odds and last night, you still have to go. And crown the homecoming king and queen since you’re the class president, which you’re sure will be Salma and Toji since the universe is very, very kind to you.

“I’m sorry. Haibara needed help designing something for next week.”

“Oh. Okay. I wish you were.”

“I wish I was too. His hardware is Flight of the Navigator themed so wish me luck.”

You laugh, giving him one last smile as he pulls the curtains to his window. And when you see his navy windows against the pane you’ve stared at him through for years, it only now occurs to you.

When he asked you to describe that last night, he unlocked something. Bringing it to your attention, to the forefront of your mind.

The person you were describing is him. You lift your walkie talkie to your mouth, press the button, and mention the words you forgot to say.

I love you.

And then you turn on your heel and drive yourself to the dance.

Satoru ponders it for thirty minutes.

Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish.

Be fucking selfish.

Satoru gets up, dropping the hardware he was making for Haibara, and pulls out the first suit he can find. He grabs his walkie talkie off his desk, convinces Megumi to go beg your mom (who loves Megumi) for your walkie talkie, and then goes ninety on the freeway to get to the school on time.

He finds Nanami first, the glob of gel on his head somehow even worse than normal and sets his plan in motion.

“Nanami.”

“Please, for the love of god, not tod-”

“Go hand this to Y/N.”

Nanami and now Shoko are taking the walkie in their hands, flipping it over and inspecting it like they’re the fucking FBI. And more importantly, wasting time.

Three feet away, you’re standing by the punch table, counting how many balloons are on the ceiling. You reach three hundred and fifteen when you’re approached for the first time that night, by Nanami and Shoko.

“Nanami. What is going on with your hair? You can’t possibly need that much hair gel.”

“You would be shocked, Y/N.”

“That's what I said to him too. But this is for you.” Shoko says.

She hands you your walkie talkie, the silver glitter coming off on your hand, as you flip it over.

“Did you break into my house, Shoko?”

“No. But I’m guessing Satoru did. He ran in here five minutes ago and basically yelled at us to give it to you.”

They both shrug as they walk away and you look around, clutching the walkie talkie so hard in your hand you think you might break it. Satoru’s here.

And when you scan your eyes around the room, you see him at the front door, his eyes already fixed on yours. He’s smiling so big that it makes your heart squelch and suddenly you’re moving towards him. And as you both start walking (running) to each other, you can’t help but feel the anticipation of what’s coming.

Except that’s right when Toji stands in the middle of the two of you, his characteristic slimy, sneer on his face. He reaches for your hand first.

“Can we talk, Y/N?”

"No."

You shrug your hand off, pushing right past him, as you walk closer to Satoru. You can hear Toji shouting something at you, but you’re too tunnel visioned on Satoru to pay attention. And when you reach him, you’re both smiling so big at each other, that it makes your face hurt.

He lifts his walkie talkie to his mouth, talking first.

“Come in, bunny?”

“Loud and clear, Toru.”

“I love you.”

You can feel yourself smiling so big, so excited that you’re basically jumping on your toes, your walkie shaking in your hand.

“I love you.”

“Oh thank god. I was scared I was going to get a breaking and entering charge.”

You laugh, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him square on his face. And when he pulls away, ears pink and face red, you whisper against his lips.

“It was always going to be you. I belong with you.”

He smiles, that stupid smile you’ve stared at, loved for years and you can’t help but cheese, leaning forward to kiss him again.

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

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badnoahmens · 1 year ago

Text

Sweep Me Off My Feet

Noah Sebastian x Reader

A/N: this was an anon request - I hope I did you proud! “Reader and him are bffs and she gets really depressed staying alone during the shutdown, so Noah picks her up and she ends up living with him during it all. So everyone else in the band quickly realizes that they are more than besties, just in the way they act with each other.”

42 days into this ‘lockdown’, you think. 42 days since it was all over the news, ‘stay in your house, don’t leave unless it's for a medical reason. Blah blah blah’. The panic has started to subside, people are somewhat used to the idea now, despite how upsidedown the world is seeming. The days were just so long, and the nights seemed to drag on forever. There wasn’t really an end in sight, just more and more delays of the inevitable. “Lockdown extended another week…month… the rest of our lives”.

There was only one thing helping you get through this, and that was Noah. He would be the one who always answered the phone, answered the messages, sent you hilarious videos or photos of himself. It was this connection that was what was stopping you from going insane.

Your house was otherwise empty. You lived on your own, along with your dying house plants. A blanket of darkness was getting ever so comfortable to live in, and it was becoming dangerous. You would go days without showering, the house was a mess, and the food you were eating could barely even be called edible.

It was 4pm, and you still hadn’t left the couch. Staring mind-numbingly at the TV as a show that auto-played in front of you. It was like your brain was paralyzing you, stopping from being alive. Instead, just existing; taking up space.

The only light in the room came from the TV as figures from an unknown show ran about their lives. The curtains were shut and all the doors and windows closed. A sudden brrrrrrrr from your phone drew you out of the shroud you were in, the phone screen lighting up with a new message.

Noah: Have you drank any water today?

You scoff. Was this man stalking you?

You reply: since when are you tracking my vitals?

You stand, bones creaking and cracking as you finally show some sign of life, and then saunter over to the kitchen. A cup that looks relatively clean sits by the sink, so you fill it up with water and drink it as quickly as you can.

Your phone lights up again.

Noah: You just drank some, didn’t you?

Your response? Nothing. He knows he’s right. You won’t even need to say anything.

Noah: knew it.

You: shut up.

You look down at your phone, and then around at the house. It was embarrassing. The smell was suddenly becoming apparent, and it was a concoction of body sweat, dampness and something else that might have been the dead plant.

You sigh. Knowing this wasn’t any way to live. Leaving the TV playing, you walk upstairs and to the bathroom, twisting the handles in the shower so the water comes pouring down. The steam begins to hollow out and you strip from your clothes, tossing them to the side. The waterfall feels clean, it envelopes you and you close your eyes in bliss. Why has this been so hard to do? The scent of your shampoo brings a slight smile to your face when you wash your hair, and it may just be because you were proud of yourself just for doing that. As you rinse your hair, there was a noise from outside the bathroom. A bang. Then a crash. Then a… clink?

Your heartbeat rises. Someone else was there, it wasn’t from the tv and you knew it. With shaking hands you shut off the shower and grasp your towel, wrapping your body in it roughly. Your mind starts to race. Will they leave without knowing you were there? Will they find you? What will they do if they do? Looking around the room, you panic when your phone is missing. It’s still downstairs. Fuck.

The footfalls grow louder as they climb the stairs, slowly. And then, as though he knows you would be hiding, Noah calls out.

“Are you home? It’s just me! Please don't attack me!”

The breath you were holding onto finally is let out, and you stomp over to the door, swinging it open aggressively.

“What the fuck, Noah!” You yell at him, hair dripping onto the floor as he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. His hair was longer now, coming close to sitting on his shoulders. His dark brown eyes were wide as they stared at you, in a towel, in the middle of the hallway, with an angry expression twisted in your face. “I thought you were coming to kill me!”

It was then that you noticed a bag in his hand, a garbage bag, full of the rubbish that has been littering your house for weeks. “Are you cleaning?”

He still is looking at you, “I thought it would help…” he says sheepishly.

“Why are you cleaning?” you ask, quite literally dumbfounded.

“I know what you’re like. This isn’t healthy. I’m cleaning and you’re going to pack a bag and come live with us” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Come live with you?”

He nods his head, then turns and walks into your bedroom. You see the light in the room shift as he slides the curtains and opens the window, letting a light breeze slowly waft into the room and down towards you. You’re still confused as you see him rummaging around in your bedroom, throwing rubbish into a bag, then looking up to meet your confused stare.

“I can pack a bag for you if you’re just going to stand there” he remarks, and you respond quickly.

“I’ll pack myself, thank you very much. I’ve seen your fashion sense and I don’t trust you”

“What do you mean!” Noah calls back in disbelief.

“Grass shoes!” You yell back.

He stands in silence for a moment. “Enough said,” he states finally in defeat.

As you walk into your room, you start to feel overwhelmed watching Noah already having a full bag of trash. He was here all of 5 minutes and had done more around the house than you had in a month. Guilt started to eat away at the pit of your stomach, and Noah noticed the energy shift in the room. When he looked at you tears started to form.

“Hey…. Hey hey hey hey” he says, dropping the bag and coming to your side, wrapping his long arms around you. You bury your head in his chest and loop your arms around him. Breathing in his scent helped, but it didn’t stop the tears completely.

“I can stop if it’s not helping”

“No, please, I’m just sorry. It’s a lot. I haven’t seen you in so long”

“I know, but I knew I had to do something.”

It took all of a few hours to get the house into a relatively clean state. With bags of rubbish out of the way, clothes and dishes put back into their place, weeks of dirt and grime finally cleaned, you started to feel alive again. There was something about spending time with Noah that made you feel better. When the sun was starting to set, your house looked normal, bags were packed, and you were closing the door behind you as you left and walked towards Noah’s car.

The drive back to his house was quiet. You watched out the window as the view zoomed past. It seemed odd being outside, to be moving somewhere especially when you were not supposed to be leaving your house. But this was essential. This was for a medical reason. If Noah had not come to help you, who knows how long it would have taken to start completely falling apart.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, Noah stepped out and collected your bags, then headed straight inside having you follow him in. Although it was early, you were exhausted.

“I think I might just go straight to bed,” you murmur to Noah. He nods, then leads you to a bedroom. It was mostly bare, but it would be perfect. After how much clutter you had been surrounded with lately, the minimalism was refreshing.

You drop your bags on the bed, then turn to see Noah at the door.

“If you need anything, you know to come find me” he speaks softly. You nod in response. He then closes the door leaving you with nothing but yourself.

You look around the room. A bed was pushed up against the wall. A painting hung opposite it, and a plant stood tall in the corner by the door. The view out of the window showed the tall tree that stood in the backyard by the timber fence, and it looked like there were a few small birds taking up residence in a nest off one of the branches. You smiled at the birds, admiring their own peacefulness. They were content. Happy. Living with what they had. You were determined to get there yourself.

After a restless night’s sleep, you awoke to the sun shining through the window. The birds had left for the morning, possibly to get their food, and you decided you needed to do the same.

As you exit out of your new bedroom, the house is quiet aside from the muffled sounds of the tv from around the corner. You come around to see the animated faces of unknown characters playing out. It was an anime, and you were unfamiliar, but you did recognise the back of 2 heads facing the screen with their back to you. Noah and Jolly were sitting down on a couch lost in the adventure they were watching. You rounded the couch and slumped next to them. Nothing needed to be said, and nothing was said. They just shifted over to give you more room and continued on with their show.

This is what you needed. This new normal. With people around you. People that made you smile, made you actually want to get up in the morning, and to watch funny shows with.

As the anime continued, you started to ask some questions. “So who’s side are we supposed to be on?” “Aren’t they supposed to be the bad guy?” “What do you mean they just died?” “How old are these characters supposed to be?”

Noah and Jolly answered every single one of them, explaining plot points, theories and sometimes even loopholes in the storytelling.

After an hour, Jolly left to retreat to the kitchen, leaving yourself and Noah sitting side by side. He looked over at you, sharing a smile, and threw his arm over your shoulder. The action made you fall onto his side, a strangely comforting feeling after being so distant for so long. But a feeling that you knew you could get used to pretty quick.

2 months have passed now. You were still living with Noah and the boys. He still made you laugh and smile like you never had before. The days were simple, spending time with each other, watching shows, writing music, and playing games. But tonight it was another night on the couch. It became a tradition these days to all be sprawled out, limbs over limbs, invading personal space, all in an effort to spend quality time together and work as a close unit of friends. It felt so natural with them, they were beyond welcoming, and made you feel like a part of the family.

Just like all the nights that had passed previously, Nick was the first to go, standing with a sigh, rubbing his belly, and sauntering off into his room. Next to follow was Jolly, after many arguments about his falling asleep during the show, he finally admitted defeat and retreated back to his bedroom.

This left you and Noah alone. The growing haze of sleepiness was creeping ever so close to taking over. Your eyelids felt so heavy that it was impossible to keep them open. I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute, you say to yourself, knowing full well this was the biggest lie. It was mere seconds until the dream state took you under.

You were abruptly awoken by the feeling of rummaging coming from beneath you. Lifting your head from its place, you peer between the slits of your open eyes. You’re met with Noah’s face looking at you, perplexed and a little worried.

“Go back to sleep, I’m sorry I woke you” he whispers in a soft tone, a little raspy and sleepy himself.

Twisting your head you can see you laying by his side, squished between his body and the back of the couch pillows. Noah was laying on his back, dangling close to the edge, one leg hanging off at the knee to stop from slipping off altogether. His hands rested on your back, gliding up and down in a soothing motion. His arm was twisted around your side, with you nestled comfortably and quite perfectly fitted under his arm with head resting on his chest.

A hand of yours was tucked under your head, and it takes a second to realize how you got here. When you fell asleep, you must have slipped down onto Noah, and him being the gentleman he is, didn’t want to wake you. Was he asleep himself? By the look of his hair, spread across the beige pillow in a tangled mess, it’d be a good guess to say that he was.

You lay your head down once more, gazing drizzly up at Noah, who tenderly brushed some of the loose strands of hair away from your face.

“You know you talk in your sleep” he uttered quietly, as if not to disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

Still half asleep, you close your eyes and sigh.

“I was afraid of that” you whisper.

“It was adorable,” he says, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Noah leans his head down, straining it at an almost awkward angle, to meet your face. Suddenly, you weren’t so sleepy anymore. He was so close. His breath washed over your face and wafted down past your neck. He was lingering, slow, questioningly. Did he want this? Did you? Shivers were running down your spine, possibly from the surge of butterflies in your stomach. Noah was your friend, your closest friend, and would this ruin it? Thoughts were running wild in your head, dancing dangerously close to ruining what was about to happen.

Noah notices, he sees you hesitate, and he pulls back. Your stomach drops.

“I’m sorry, I-“ he starts.

You interrupt him by leaning up and meeting his lips with yours. He flinched at the impact, but didn't pull back. Instead, his lips move like yours, mimicking the motion you create, parting slightly to allow just that tiny bit more of a connection. You slide up, straddling Noah so that your thighs are at the sides of his torso, moving your hands so they are on either side of his face, fingers tangling with his long hair in a feeble attempt to ground yourself in the moment. His hands move too, gingerly griping at your hips, but not as to hold, but to caress. You feel a tremor of anticipation across your body, the light pressure that he creates between you two, rolling his body to be closer to yours, makes the sensation even more intimate.

You’re still kissing him, heavily. His mouth parts more, flicking the tip of his tongue over your lips as though to ask for more. You respond with the same motion, with tongues now intertwining as you begin to taste him. The fears and worries from before are long gone, and all that you could think of now was him, was that he wants this just as much as you do.

The intensity between you and Noah grows more. It's as if the universe has narrowed down to this singular moment, where every touch, every sensation, becomes heightened and electrifying. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the softness of his skin — it all consumes your senses.

With each passing second, the kiss deepens, evolving into something more profound and passionate. Your tongues dance together, exploring the uncharted territory of each other's mouths. It's a delicate balance between fervor and tenderness, a beautiful symphony of desire and affection, orchestrated perfectly just for the two of you.

Noah's hands glide up your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. As his hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers gently caress your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body and intensifying the sensation. Time becomes irrelevant as you revel in this newfound closeness. The outside world ceases to exist, and it's just the two of you, entwined in an embrace that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. In this intimate dance, you feel a profound sense of trust and vulnerability, knowing that you are sharing something special and rare.

You can feel him begin to writhe beneath you, legs shifting and pressing against the space between yours. You pause momentarily, letting the moment linger, before reciprocating the same passion, grinding down with your hips to create friction between your clothes. The moan that elicits from Noah echoes into your mouth, the feeling of pleasure taking over him for a moment. As the kiss lingers, your hands wander, discovering the contours of each other's bodies. His hands now gripping desperately at your body, one cinched below your thigh, pulling it up closer to him, the other hooked around the back of your neck, thumb rubbing delicate shapes into your skin. Every touch, every caress, elicits a gasp or a sigh from both of you, like a plea for more.

But eventually, the need for air becomes undeniable, and you reluctantly break the kiss, your lips still tingling from the connection. Breathless and flushed, you meet Noah's gaze, searching for reassurance and affirmation. He looks back at you, with the same search in his eyes. Almost like he’s looking for answers too, like he’s asking if he could continue. You lean your forehead against Noah's, your breaths intermingling as you revel in the afterglow of that passionate kiss. Both of you are out of breath, panting in an effort to regain some kind of consciousness. Time seems to stand still, as if the universe itself is holding its breath, acknowledging the significance of this shared moment. That is, until the rattle of the fridge door, and the flood of its light tears you from the moment, violently throwing you back to the reality around you. With a jolt, your head darts towards the source, the silhouette of Jolly in the fridge gives you your answer.

“Bout time you guys kiss and make up” he says, with such a carefree nature, a hint of humor playing in his last words. “Nick, you owe me 20!” He calls, exiting the room and around the corner.

“We’re they fucking, or just making out?” You hear Nick call from another room.

“Just making out. Thank Christ” Jolly answers to himself, leaving you and Noah to giggle, flushed red with embarrassment. Despite being caught in the act, it didn’t dampen the mood. You were still straddling Noah, but sitting more upright now. He sits up, readjusting so you sit atop his lap. He brushes a loose strand behind your ear, and looks at you tenderly.

It might be the lack of oxygen, but the way the colorful light from the tv dances on Noah’s face makes him seem more beautiful, like something you’ve never seen in him before.

In the room's shifting shadows, the illustrations decorating his neck come alive, dancing in the changing colors that starkly contrast with the white of his shirt. His hair was a mess, tangled and knitted from your fingers, but it was his eyes, and the way they looked into your soul, that made you feel at home. With your hands draped around his neck, you lean in once more, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. He closes his eyes and leans into you again, pushing his hands against your back to make you closer to him as you both revel in the fleeting moment. Even if it did change things in the future, you didn’t care.

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whiteteadreams · 5 months ago

Note

just imagine...

hyuck or mark

roommate au!

you're rearranging your room around to feel at ease again since it looks like a hurricane ran through it. moving causes a lot of commotion since it's loud and heavy so (hc or mk) come check up on you. it's obvious what're doing when they see you and you ask "can you help me finish up?" instead they ignore you and close the door right back up. so as a petty joke, you control the wifi, and pay for it. SO, WHEN YOU START HEARING POrN COMING FROM THEIR ROOM, YOU DECIDE TO TURN OFF THE WIFI JUST AS THEY'RE ABOUT TO GET OFF. ( then you enter their room while they're cursing about the wifi and meat is out like it's a show "since you won't help me finish up, i don't think i'll let you finish."🫢 SMuT PlS

Pairing: Roommate!Mark x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Genre: Roommates AU, Non-Idol AU, Smut

Warnings: Cursing/ mature language, smut, fluff at the end, not proofread

Smut Warnings: Degradation, Mark somewhat objectiying the reader, ripping leggings, creampie, unprotected sex

a/n- i simply have nothing to say for myself with why this took actually forever. also...self indulgent because I, too, like the reader, received a degree 😝

Boredom racked through your body as you checked your notifications. Reading through a text asking to go out on the town, you responded with a simple, “sorry, i’m busy tn :(“ despite your entire night being a destined repeat of your afternoon.

Looking over the side of your bed at your floor, you took in the scattered clothes, at this point you didn’t even know what was clean and what was dirty. Lifting your head, you saw the state of the rest of your room, which was equally or even more of a disaster as your floor. Your room had become a punching bag for your laziness as finals rolled around and with your new degree laying on the desk, you decided you had nothing else to do besides clean.

Rolling off your bed, your feet barely caught your body before you were able to fall flat onto your disgusting floor. You normally pride yourself on your cleanness but obviously this was not a good example of your usual self.

Still sluggishly, you forced your feet to drag you to your curtains, pulling them open to take advantage of the rest of the sunlight. Seeing your room in natural light for the first time in what felt like weeks finally forced you into the cleaning spirit.

Starting with the basics, you simply gathered all the clothes that were littered around your room and threw them in a basket, to be washed, whether that be completed today or another time was something out of your control.

Thankfully, your room wasn’t nearly as bad as you had thought it was, the clothes were the real issue here, but you still needed to clean your carpet, or at least vacuum. Staring down your giant dresser, you started to plan out how to move it.

Pulling at the sides, you felt your body jerk as it barely slid against the floor, but even though it didn’t move where you wanted it to, it did manage to bump your desk, which then hit the wall.

Over the music that had quietly been playing, your door cracked open and in popped Mark, your roommate.

“Yo, what are you doing? You’re being kind of loud…” Mark’s eyes raked across your backside before you turned around. Your leggings do nothing to avoid outlining your entire bottom half, even once you turn around, with your hands on your hips.

“Well, Marky, if I had to guess, it would appear I’m trying to move my dresser! And it wasn’t actually that loud.” Laughing at his wide eyes, thinking he was just overreacting the noise level, you turned around before stopping again. “Mark, would you mind helping me out?”

But as you looked over your shoulder for a response, you saw the boy leave the room.

Huffing at his departure, you went ahead and finished your cleanup, or at least you tried to before you heard what sounded like a squeak over in the next room. Deciding to be petty, you walked over to Mark’s room to complain about the noise level. But as you got closer and pressed your ear close to the door, you heard more than just squeaks which you were able to confirm were bed squeaks, you heard a few grunts, and then female moans. It was obvious that Mark was watching porn, and as a good roommate you would walk away, but you’re not really a good roommate.

Stifling your giggles, you waltzed to the living room to where the WiFi router was, and looking back at Mark’s closed door one last time you pulled the plug, cutting off the WiFi for the entire house.

“What the fuck?” A quiet voice sounded throughout the otherwise silent house. You allowed yourself to laugh loudly before just letting yourself into Mark’s room, not even giving him enough time to cover himself.

“Yo, what are you doing? You’re being kind of loud…” Using Mark’s words against him, his face turned red as he tried to grasp onto a blanket to cover himself. “Is this the reason you couldn’t help me? Too busy making yourself cum? I suppose, since you wouldn’t help me finish up, it’s only fair I don’t help you finish up.”

Turning on your feet, you started to walk out of Mark’s room before you felt his hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you back into him. You didn’t know when he stood up but now it didn’t matter as your back was to his bare chest, and your ass was against his bare cock.

“You’re really funny, you know that right?” Mark spoke through his teeth and then kissed the side of your head.

Spinning the both of you around, Mark pressed you against his desk, rutting against your ass as he breathed into your ear. “Maybe I would’ve helped you if you were wearing something a little more decent, instead you wear these tight ass pants that show exactly what your pussy looks like.”

Gripping the thin fabric between his fingers, Mark tore the crotch of the leggings before pushing into your cunt.

“S’not my fault that you’re a fucking pervert.” Fucking back into Mark, you whimpered at the tight grip he had on your hips, surely leaving bruises to be seen in the morning.

Laughing against your head, Mark smacked your thigh at the comment.

“I’m not, I just live with a little slut who walks around with her tits and pussy out, hard not to get hard when I’ve got cunt in my face.”

Your hair started to fall into your face as Mark’s thrusts increased in pace. But it wasn’t the reason why you couldn't see for long. You felt Mark readjust his grip on you before pulling out and throwing you on the bed. Bouncing lightly on the mattress you go to sit up but Mark, instead palmed the back of your head and pressed your face into the mattress, all while pulling your ass into the air so he can force his cock back into you.

Voice muffled by the blankets you tried to speak, but Mark gripped your hair into a ponytail and pulled your face back up. “You wanna repeat that?” He breathed out through his teeth.

“I said, who knew the good innocent child of God was such a pervert.” Mark didn’t even bother to respond, he just pushed your face back into the pillows and with his other hand landed several quick, sharp slaps to your ass.

Moaning out, you gripped the sheets and smiled despite Mark being unable to see it. Finally, he was fucking you. You didn’t dress like a cheap whore for nothing. With the feeling of Mark’s hips slapping yours, the noises of his grunts and your muffled moans, and the thoughts swirling in your head, caused you to be close. And Mark knew this, because as he felt you twitching and clamping your walls down on his cock, he snuck his hand under your body and played with your clit. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you whimpered and curled your toes, starting to buck your hips back into his more frantically.

“Come on, cum for me already. I can’t hold it much longer, please.” Mark whined behind you, his dominant persona cracking slightly.

Not even a full minute later, you heard your ears start to ring as pleasure coursed through your veins, taking over all of your other senses.

Mark rode out yours and his highs before pulling out and collapsing next to you, once his grip on you vanished, your body hit the mattress as well. Him on his back and you on your stomach, you both looked at each other with dopey smiles and tired eyes.

“Thanks for the nut bro” Mark held out his closed fist to you. Rolling your eyes, you sit up and go to shove Mark, however, he caught your forearm before you could push him and pulled you into his chest. Planting his lips onto you, this kiss wasn’t like the ones before, this one was like Mark was pouring the words he was too scared to speak into you. Once you both pulled away, your eyebrows were furrowed, waiting to see what was going to be revealed. And once the silence was put to an end, you weren’t disappointed.

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing and I don’t see it as ‘just sex.’” Without responding to him, you pressed your lips to his and smiled.

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