#next is moving some furniture around but I can’t really do it until I get the plant cabinet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xzaddyzanakinx · 3 months

Text

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Four: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, sexual content, pervy behavior, male masturbation, panty kink, sex daydreams [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is doing his very best, he just loves you and wants you to be comfy around him. Just let him worm his way into your heart babe [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. I’m illiterate so apologies in advance MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 8th

Mr. Nelson’s funeral was today, it really was a beautiful ceremony as I look back on it. Even more so when my inner self smears the background enough to bring you to the front of the mental image.

You’d spoken to the man a handful of times, but I didn’t expect you to come. When I saw you accept the invite to the event on Facebook I thought surely it was a mistake. That was until you messaged Luke and asked him to accompany you, funerals make you nervous, but feeling obligated to do something and avoiding it makes you more nervous.

So your moral support was happy to attend and fight off dear old Alan’s corpse should he rise from the casket and set his sights on you.

And I though I had irrational fears, geez babydoll, how old were you when you watched Night of The Living Dead for the first time? If I had to guess it was too young. It’s alright though I get it, you know what movie traumatized me? The Mummy. Heebied my fucking Jeebies so bad I avoided the beach on family vacations.

You’re telling me there’s not a sarcophagus under all that sand? There’s at least one under there and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Solid ground for me only, please and thank you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I had a thought that I initially considered to be a sweet reminder of my dear friend Alan. His obituary was in the newspaper and I happened to swipe one from the guest book table at the viewing as well. Have you ever scrapbooked before? I bet you’ve at least tried it.

Well I thought it would be nice to make him a page in my journal. A little celebration of life for the man who gave me an opportunity to grow and nurture my love for you.

Then I realized mid-glue stick on the newspaper clipping that the idea was something that a clinically insane person would do.

I’m not that guy. That guy’s not me.

But the glue was already on there and it felt wrong to toss Alan’s wrinkly old face into the trash so I pasted him into my journal anyway.

Crazy people don’t know that they’re crazy. I’m well aware that little idea was less than tasteful, just felt like I should mention that.

Date:

July 28th

Anakin Skywalker hadn’t been this happy since… ever. The previous record being his discovery of you, was now toppled into second place and overshadowed by ‘Move In Day’.

He could hardly contain himself. It was a dopamine high that he would ride out until he’d drained every last drop.

The movers lugged in box after box, furniture and books, until finally they dropped off the last load and thanked Anakin for the business. He eagerly shook their hand and shoved them out. He had preparations to make.

He set up his Tv, screen mirroring the live feed of the apartment building entrance to the big screen so that he could easily keep an eye out for you while he unpacked his kitchen.

He’d planned your ‘meet-cute’ meticulously, looking to your bookshelf and streaming services to gather intel on your ideal scenario. You were an odd bird, but he liked that about you. It’s part of your charm, it’s part of the challenge. You’re not as predictable in your tastes and interests as others can be.

Anakin formulated the interaction step by step, frame by frame in the storyboard of his imagination until he had the perfect scene. His box office hit that he’d replay over and over again until the next time he stood face to face with you.

It took quite some time and a load of practice. Discarded dialogue, awkward movements that made him feel stiff and less than human when he practiced them in the mirror. Endless options of clothes, shoes, and hair.

Should he get a new piercing? He wanted to. So he did, he knew you’d like it.

It’d match the one he already had on the opposite nostril. It made him feel more complete to add something so permanent to his body, he wished he could do something similar with you. He wanted you to be permanent, so maybe it’s his subconscious’s way of telling him that this was going in the right direction.

He was on the right path. His journey of life alone was coming to a close and a new trail would reveal itself. No more rocky, unsteady tread. No more sharp turns and blind spots, no more impossible inclines.

Scraped knees and bloodied hands would be distant memories. Maybe even distant enough that he could toss them into The Pit.

He would have no need for anger or sorrow anymore.

How could he feel anything but the warm embrace of love as he strolled down the flowered path ahead with you?

Who knew that you could position one box in 83 different ways and hate every single one of them? Anakin was so thankful there weren’t any actual surveillance cameras in the apartment building. It’d be really difficult to explain why he was in the hallway for an hour with his hands on his hips, scooting a box of books a centimeter or two at a time. Turning it sideways and then making sure the book on top was perfectly positioned and would effectively fall to the ground to catch your attention.

He checked his watch nonstop, stared at his Tv screen, willing you to just hurry the fuck up before he vomited from anxiety. He’d waited months for this. If he fucked it up now he’d… well he’d probably keel over on the spot.

Which would promptly traumatize you and not even his ghost would be able to peacefully haunt you. It’s hard to peacefully haunt someone if they watched you die, or at least Anakin assumed it would be difficult. He wasn’t willing to test that theory though.

So, he puffed up his chest and walked back into his apartment and rehearsed the upcoming conversation a few more times. He needed, desperately needed to ensure his facial expressions conveyed what he wanted.

Soft, trustworthy, dependable, safe, caring.

He practiced softening his eyes, knowing sometimes he stared alittle too hard. He worked on his facial fidget; chewing on the inside of his cheek was a quick tell of his nervousness. He didn’t want to be perceived as nervous, he wanted to be confident and sure of himself so that you would be confident in your soon to blossom affection for him.

His eyebrows, that’s a hard one, but he’d meticulously watched bar goers trying to flirt. The successful ones he learned, sometimes use their eyebrows in place of questions or words. A difficult concept, but one he studied until he mastered it.

Now, the other facial expressions and mannerisms… he gathered that information from your watch lists on your streaming services. For the visible examples at least, but your books were just as helpful in describing how he should approach you, speak to you, and simply exist near you.

He hadn’t realized these things were this important until now. Standing and posture was surprisingly very, very important to women. As well as hand movements and subtle glances and minuscule changes of expression.

You were worth the time and effort it took to learn all of it. He’d read and research and practice until he couldn’t stand to look at himself in the mirror any longer. He was determined to make sure you were happy with the results.

He was startled by a loud ping, someone had entered to building and holy shit it was you.

Anakin shook out his hands frantically, remembering the breathing techniques he’d learned as a child, he grounded himself quickly.

It’s okay.

‘She’s gonna love you. She’ll warm up to you quickly, you know everything you need to know about her to make her comfortable and loved.’

‘There’s no way she won’t fall head over heels.’

He smoothed out his band-tee and ran his hands through his hair quickly and headed to his door that was propped open slightly. A few boxes sat in the hall, including the most important one, the one instrumental to his plan.

The apartment hallway was ridiculously tiny, which worked in his favor in this situation.

He heard you come up the stairs, counted your steps until he knew you were almost at the door, 17 and a half steps. Then he swung open the door and bent down to grab one of the boxes.

As expected, he startled you and you dropped your keys. You always wore your backpack on one shoulder, one strap. So when you quickly went to scoop up your keys, your bag swung out of place and toppled a few books from one of the boxes.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Anakin could gloat to himself about his magnificent setup later, right now he needed to woo you with his sweet words.

“Oh, sweetheart I’m sorry.” He said softly, coming over to offer you a hand up.

“It’s okay, my bad.” You laughed, taking his hand.

He managed to keep calm and collected despite his insides boiling him alive at the willing skin contact.

“No, not at all. It’s my fault for startling you like that.” He chuckled, squeezing your upper arm and using his hand already in yours to give you a small handshake. Smooth.

“I’m Anakin.” He said with a bashful smile, dropping your hand and reveling in the lingering warmth your palm left on his.

You introduced yourself in return, gesturing to his apartment door.

“So I take it that you’re my new neighbor huh?” You said, making small talk as you crouched down to pick up the books you’d knocked over.

“No I’m just a one man moving crew.” He grinned.

“Very funny.” You laughed, standing up as you looked through the titles. “Hmm, you’ve got good taste.”

“You think so?” He asked, remembering to make his eyebrows swoop up toward the middle of his forehead to give a quizzical look.

“Oh yeah, this is one of my favorites.” You said, showing him the cover of The Silmarillion by Tolkien.

“Not many people actually read that one, I’m impressed.” He smiled.

“Impressed? Yeah well I’m jealous.” You laughed.

“What?” He chuckled, holding his hands out to take the other books from you.

“This is a really nice edition, it’s similar to mine. I recently lost it.” You sighed. “I think I must’ve left it the park or maybe it fell out of my bag or something.”

“Ah, that sucks… well, I mean I’ve read that one a few times now. It’s been well loved.” He said tipping the books in his arms toward the one you were holding. “Why don’t you keep it?”

He shrugged, acting nonchalant as though this didn’t mean the entire world to him and if you said no he’d sob about it later.

“You’re serious?” You asked in surprise, he was offering you a 50$ special edition book and you’d barely known him for a minute.

“Yeah, ‘course sweetheart.” He said with a cute, crooked smile. “Think of it as a… reverse house warming gift.” He chuckled.

“Thank you, I- this means a lot to me.” You said, grinning widely. “That’s real sweet of you Anakin. I owe you one.”

“No worries.” He chuckled, “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it even sweetheart.” His gaze flickered quickly from your eyes to your lips, and he turned to go back into his apartment after giving you an almost-missed wink.

You stepped inside your home, and went straight to the bookshelf to put your new-to-you book where it belonged. After the fact you stood there and buffered, just staring at it.

‘There’s no way, this guy has to be too good to be true.’

But he seemed… so genuine. He didn’t ogle you, he didn’t make you feel weird or like he just felt obligated to speak to you.

He seemed to actually, really be a good guy.

Rare. Few and far of those exist in this day and age. It’s uncommon to meet someone who would do something, even as simple as giving you a used book, without expecting anything in return.

But he didn’t seem to expect anything. He didn’t seem to even expect a thank you, it was like he’d already decided he would give it to you before he even offered.

What are the odds that a hot, tattooed and pierced man moves in next door and gifts you an expensive book that just so happens to be an even better replacement for the one that you just lost? That couldn’t happen twice even if you tried to make it happen again.

What kind of second dimension did you step into? The land of dreamy men?

Diary Entry: July 28th

It’s late. But I have to write to you, it can’t wait til tomorrow.

Everything went more perfectly than I could’ve imagined. Thank you so much for being you sweet girl. It made my job of curating the scenery so much easier, you clumsy little thing. I am sorry for having to spook you though, but it worked didn’t it?

Research pays off. Always.

And of course there’s the issue of your book, I hated to see your frustration and your mad scowl when you realized it was missing from your backpack. I really did.

But I’d do it every goddamn day if I knew I’d get the same reaction out of you from giving you that new copy.

Oh god you’re… you’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful. You look angelic when you sleep but you look like competition for Aphrodite when you smile at me.

You smiled, grinned. You smiled all the way up to the corners of your bright and beautiful eyes. For me.

You even laughed for me.

It was so sweet I could taste it. The honey of your voice, I could fucking bathe in it. Just the sound of you speaking, knowing you were speaking to me. Really speaking to me.

In the flesh.

It’s intoxicating. It’s emboldening, it’s dangerous. I’ve never been more worked up in my life. I’m torn all to pieces from at two minute and 6 second conversation.

I think I’ll have to fucking recover from this like a damn hangover.

But what has me so drunk you might ask? Was it your laugh at my stupid jokes? Was it your perfect smile, your radiant glow, your soulful eyes? The softness of your skin or you willingness to let me touch you?

No baby. It’s how you said my name.

I wish I could’ve stayed longer, I wish I could’ve spoken to you more. But it’s so hard to concentrate when my dick is leaking precum down my leg at a rate that should probably be concerning.

The minute you closed that door I shoved those boxes into my apartment and locked the door. Took my elated ass straight to the couch and watched you in your living room, admiring your gift from me while I fucked my fist with a pair of your dirty panties in my mouth.

I couldn’t have your honeyed lips soothing my angry red cock just yet, but I sure as hell could imagine licking your gorgeous little cunt while I tasted you.

I tugged my balls and pumped my cock for over half an hour until I was a fucking mess for you in my new living room’s floor. The cool hardwood letting the heat from my flushed skin seep away from me as I came back down to earth.

I made myself dizzy. Didn’t give myself a break, didn’t slow down, just stroked my cock like the desperate little manwhore that I am for you. The only thing missing was you being there to watch me fall apart.

I think you’d like that wouldn’t you? Watching a man like me get on his knees and beg for you?

Diary Entry: July 29th

I’ve replayed that moment in my head for hours on end. The beginning always stays the same, but the ending… that’s been subject to many changes. It started off simple, we’d chat alittle longer, I’d ask you how your day was; you’d tell me it was ‘fine, thank you’.

Or you’d ask me why I decided to move in, why I chose this side of town, this side of town, this apartment building, across from you. That one always ended questionably and I’d rather not explore that one on paper.

My favorites however were the ones where you’d laugh at a stupid pick-up line and somehow we’d end up in your bed. The bed I’ve sat and watched you sleep in. Those were the best additions.

Now, I’ve been fortunate enough that you’ve been loyal, faithful and devoted to only me since the very beginning. So I don’t really have a clue what you’d actually be like in bed.

But god it’s so fun to imagine it.

You’ve got such pretty, soft skin. You let me mar it up with my teeth and soothe it with my tongue. You let me grip the pillowy flesh of your thighs to spread you open for me. You let me pinch and roll and pull your nipples until they were raw and begging for a break. You let me caress the sensitive slick covered folds between those beautiful pussy lips, plunge my fingers in as far as they’d go.

I took you from behind, watching your perky little ass bounce off my cock while I plowed into you. Your face smushed against the couch cushions and your body folded over the arm rest for me to fuck you like the good little girl that you are.

Against the wall with your arms around my neck while I’ve got my hands holding you spread open and in place by the crook of your knees. You promised you stay real still so that I could drill up into you like you deserved.

God damn. Do you know how good you look like that? Back arched against the wall, tits jiggling in my face with every thrust. Your legs pushed up and back to the sides of your torso, to pin you in place?

It was like a pretty pink flower had bloomed and spread its buttery smooth petals just for me.

Don’t even get me started on how good you suck cock. Have you ever been told you could be mistaken for a warm, wet Hoover? No? Didn’t think so cause that would be rude as hell, but I bet someone’s thought it before.

(Me. It’s me, I thought that.)

Fuck those soft lips. Fuck that smooth snake of a tongue. Fuck that tight, hot throat that just loves to take a beating from my dick.

Can’t wait to prove my imagination right.

Speaking of, my dick has been beat. Like actually. If one didn’t know any better they’d assume it’s on life support, but I’m a freak of nature. Cumming upwards of 16 times in the span of 40ish hours would probably put a weaker man in a hospital bed. Or maybe a psych ward.

But I am not a weak man even if my dick feels raw. I’d still fuck you if you asked.

I’d be curious to know if I’d be able to stave off cumming longer from all the abuse or if I’d be so fucking sensitive that I wouldn’t make it in half an inch.

Probably the latter.

Diary Entry: August 2nd

Being so close to you is killing me. Truly it is.

You’ve sunken your claws so deeply into my very soul and you don’t even realize it. It’s torture. To you, I’m just the new guy, nice dude who gave you a book. But to me? You’re my entire world.

I’ve been told I have the personality of a guard dog. Soft and squishy on the inside, dangerous and fierce on the outside. Which I suppose could be true, but really I think it’s for a different reason. For a human, a dog is one small but very impactful blip in your life. But for the dog? You are it’s life.

Am I comparing myself to a dog right now? Yes I am.

I’ll beg for you to throw me the scraps of your affections until you finally toss me a bone.

Bark.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I’ve been trying my best to give you space. To plan accordingly and in advance. I have our next two interactions simmering on the back burner.

I know that if I go too hard, too fast, you’ll be overwhelmed. That’s the last thing I want. I never want to be the thing that causes you stress, I want to siphon it from you. So, in one week I will set out to help you with a few of your errands and plant a few seeds.

But until then, we have late night snacks and couch chats with Boogie.

I’ve also been doing- you guessed it- more research to do with helpful vitamins and medicines. You’ve responded so well to your SleepyTime tea and since I’ve started making sure your birth control packet is plainly visible in the countertop basket directly beneath that cabinet, you’ve been taking it so well.

I’m so proud of you sweetheart, that’s my girl, look at you taking care of yourself. You’ve done so well in fact, that it’s in my personal opinion that you have earned a very special reward.

Anakin sat on his couch, the live feed of your living room screen mirrored to his Tv. He was watching you cook dinner, he knew you’d be making a stir fry. He’d seen it in your planner, so he’d taken the liberty of ordering himself the same, it’d be here any minute. As would your good friend Sam.

Anakin had originally burned red hot with jealousy at the thought of you inviting a man over to your apartment, that he hadn’t vetted via social media and a quick drop-in. But he was relieved to discover that Sam was just a girl from your book club.

This wasn’t one of his well thought out plans, this was decided upon this morning after you’d returned from book club. So, he was anxious to see if his hunches served him well. Sam seemed like a punctual gal, at least from what he’d seen on social media and the text messages between the two of you from weeks/months before.

Anakin had the wonderful idea to log into your cell service providers website to pull your deleted messages from their data bank. You really should have better passwords.

The thing he was most worried about was his door dasher arriving on time. It was rare that one was too far off on arrival time, but it would be his shit luck and lack of planning that could ruin this little glimpse of you.

The minutes ticked by and he was alerted to the new motion sensors he’d placed near the LED pathway lights on the paved entrance to the apartment building. He quickly switched over to the hallway feed at the front door, seeing that it was his door dasher.

Damn you Trevor. How dare you get there before Sam.

Not to worry, he’d call for the door code and Anakin wouldn’t answer the first time. It wasn’t much but it would buy him a few seconds.

Though it seemed to be that luck was on his side as it often was when it came to you. Sam was so kind, kind enough to let the delivery guy into the building. Which is technically a security concern but Trevor didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d be able to remember a 6 digit door code.

He was too busy staring at your friends ass to pay attention to the numbers she entered anyway.

The footsteps approached your door and his, Anakin waited until he heard Sam knock on your door before he opened his. Trevor stood patiently as Anakin slowly counted out his tip in cash and thankfully you were quick to let your friend inside. After the exchange was complete Anakin gave you a smile and wave.

He could’ve had a heart attack at the response you gave him.

A flirty little finger waggle and smile.

He had to remind himself to breathe and keep his expression a happy-neutral. He’d hate for you to see his blushing cheeks this early on.

“Have a good night girls.” He said as he closed his door and to his surprise you actually answered.

“You too!”

If he weren’t confident that you were a sweet and loving soul, he’d think you were trying to kill him with the siren song of your voice.

Stir fry had never tasted so fucking good.

Diary Entry: July 8th

Grocery day baby, here I come.

I love that you’re so predictable. I love that you’re so fucking cute and always try to strong arm your groceries in one trip. I love that it takes at least two good whacks to the trunk of your shitty old Nissan to properly close it.

It’s cute to watch you struggle with it, the annoyed huffs and angry scowl.

I thought you’d combust on the spot once when your paper grocery bag of flour and sugar ripped open and sent a plume of flour up on your black jeans. The parking lot was very empty and I was very glad because I’d hate for someone to have seen the cursing contest you had with yourself as you picked up your spilled items. Very unladylike you know. But it’s you so I don’t mind, I just like to hear you talk.

It’s almost time. I’ve been sitting in my car for about 10 minutes. Gotta account for the traffic on highway 76. Do you really have to shop all the way out there just because of the Whole Foods? C’mon baby they have the same shit at Kroger.

I’ve been watching your little blue dot on my phone and you’re rounding the corner so I’ll write you later doll.

I love you.

You pulled into the parking lot and sat in your car for a moment. Giving yourself the much need quiet to decompress from your work day and the grocery trip. After you’d checked your messages and scrolled for a moment you decided it was time to head inside before your frozen foods got… not so frozen.

You popped the trunk and fumbled with the faulty latch, your fingers feeling blindly under the metal lip until it finally detached and you were able to open the trunk.

You took a deep breath and scolded yourself for buying the extra few things that could’ve waited till next time. Second trips are for wimps and you weren’t one. So you loaded up your left arm bag by bag until you heard a humored puff of air and the beep of a car locking behind you.

“Need a hand sweetheart?” Anakin grinned, shoving his keys into his front pocket.

He waltzed over and took a few bags off your hands without waiting for a response. It took you aback, not because he hadn’t waited for permission, but because of the way he exuded an odd charm that made you falter.

“Anakin, really it’s alright I can get it.” You said, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion by his kind gesture.

“Mmm no, this seems like a two man mission sweet girl.” He smiled, gathering up a few the last few bags from the trunk and shutting it with one solid push.

“You really don’t have to-“

“I know I don’t have to.” He said tilting his head toward the apartment building to encourage you to walk with him. “I want to.”

“Thank you, that’s… thanks.” You smiled, a light blush creeping across your cheeks.

“Atta girl.” He chuckled, tapping in the door code and holding it open for you despite holding many more bags than you.

Something about the low tone of voice or maybe just the way he looked at you with his icey blue eyes… just sent a chill down your spine. A quick one that was gone in an instant, replaced by a warm glow in the center of your chest.

“Guess chivalry’s not dead.” You joked.

“I’m no knight.” He laughed, “but you’re sure as hell a princess.”

‘Oh that was smooth.’ You thought, trying to ignore the heat at the bottom of your stomach.

What is happening? How on earth can one man be so… everything? Kind, caring, chivalrous and gorgeous to boot.

You felt a wave of embarrassment at the squeaky giggle you let out. He had you tore up from one little comment.

True to the gentleman he seemed to be, he chose not to push it and tease you about your beet red cheeks. He just waited patiently for you as you unlocked your door.

“Do you want me to bring these in for you?” He asked, watching your movements closely.

“Oh that would be great.” You said in relief, leading him into your kitchen.

“Cute little place.” He said, looking around the kitchenette and over to the living room.

He sat down your bags on the counter and started unloading them neatly into rows.

“Oh, you-“

“Mmm mmm.” He shook his head with a smirk, “Just let me help, it’s no big deal.”

You let out a puff of air in an amused sort of amazement and pulled out your little step stool to open up the cabinets. Anakin snickered from behind you as you stepped up and started putting things away.

You shot him a glare over your shoulder and almost said something snarky until you realized he was folding your paper grocery bags in the same way that you always do.

“Huh.” You laughed. “I thought I was the only one who did that.”

“Did what?” He asked, his head cocked to the side.

“Fold the bags.” You said, turning back around to continue placing your things where they belonged.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I dunno it’s just a habit I guess. Fits better in that stupid slot on the recycling bin this way.”

“Yeah I never really understood why they made them that way? I guess so people don’t just shove other trash in there.” You mused.

“Mmhm probably.” He agreed, stacking them neatly and gathering it in his hands. “Do you want me to take these out back for you?”

“I can do-“ You stopped yourself when Anakin raised his eyebrow and cocked his head to the side with a crooked smirk.

You sighed and gave him a downturned smile. “Yes, I would love for you to take them out back for me.”

“Good girl.” He nodded, clicking his tongue and heading for the door. “See ya princess.”

After he shut the door you let yourself breathe alittle easier, blowing out the air in a short puff through your nose. Maybe even letting a little smile cross your lips before you finished up your task.

You’d be thinking about that low rumble of his voice later. Good girl? Shit.

PART FIVE

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @doblasftcisco @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @styleslytherin @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @nico-velvet @rorysbrainrot @hopesworlld @mawhOre @lonaah @t8Izw @guiltycherries

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed

414 notes · View notes

ohbabydollie · 3 months

Note

Mutual Breakup HC

Schlatt never misses his son's baseball games. Always cheering for him

When the moms learn that he is actually single, they attempt to flirt with him

I personally wanna see how that plays out

refer to the end of goofy dad schlatt hcs for short answer, now here’s the long answer

lots of the moms noticed how sweet schlatt was, how kind he was to all the boys at baseball. how he didn’t hesitate to offer helping them practice or even just playing during the off seasons.

but the one thing they did notice was you on his arm 24/7, always wearing a cute dress, makeup and hair nicely done, an expensive looking ring decorating your finger.

they were so jealous!

you had a husband that cared, that loved you and actively showed it.

until one day you didn’t go to a game, the following week you weren’t there either, schlatt seemed a little more stressed than normal.

the moms would sit around gossiping about it, one woman gets up with a smile “a little trouble in paradise” she says brushing off her jeans, unbuttoning her shirt a little and standing up, quickly walking to the bench schlatt is sitting on as he cheers on his son.

“hey, you’re matt’s dad right?” the woman asks as she sits next to schlatt

“oh yeah, you can call me jay” he says sticking his hand out for a hand shake, she accepts with a smile.

“i’m liz, zane’s mom” she chirps “so, where’s your wife?” she asks

“oh, i don’t have a wife”

“really?” she asks almost shocked “you’re so handsome though!”

“thanks”

“i can’t believe matt’s mom would just let a hunk like you up for grabs” she says gigging, holding onto his arm

“oh, um” schlatt pulls his arm away when she starts pushing up against him.

Liz is almost offended at that, before she gets an idea, “so, i need some help moving furniture, ever since i got divorced from zane’s dad, it’s, it’s been pretty hard” she says sniffling softly, putting on her best show.

“i can help you out with that for sure” he says “bring over some buddies, move whatever you need out” he offers

“no, i was thinking it could just be you, it’s not much” she says smiling “maybe after the game?”

“yeah, i can do it then” he says focusing on the game

“you know it’s been pretty lonely since the divorce” she mutters seductively “the house hasn’t had a real man in it in so long” she says biting her lip

“oh, um” schlatt looks at her, not knowing what to do

“Jay!” his head goes snapping in your direction watching as you come from the parking lot with a soft smile in a long sundress. you’re practically glowing in the light as you wave to schlatt, showing off your belly slightly, holding a basket of snacks and drinks for after the game.

liz scoffs at this, unbuttoning another button and pulling the shirt down slightly, hoping to bring back schlatt’s attention.

“she’s gotten a little…pudgy, don’t you think?” liz asks almost disgusted, leaning into schlatt “really let herself go” she spits pushing her boobs together as schlatt pays her no attention, instead staring at the way your belly moves.

“nope, she’s just pregnant again” schlatt says looking at you with a dopey grin “matt’s wanted a little sister for the longest time now, not really into the younger brother thing”

“i-i thought you weren’t together” she asks shocked

“we’re not, but boy does she look good pregnant” he says getting up to help you with the snacks “give me a call when you need the help”

even if schlatt had the option to be disloyal to you, he couldn’t, especially not when you looked that delicious while pregnant

#schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff #mbu!jschlatt

258 notes · View notes

twice-inamillion · 4 months

Text

The Company

Strangers

Smut and Story Building (Stranger sex, teasing, rebound sex, deep penetration, creampie, blowjob)

Chapter 5

2,610 Words

(Jessica and you have dinner together after her failed attempt to meet with her friends. She complains about her ex and you find your way to fuck her at the end, maybe a little too good. Now she can’t go to her ex or any other man after your lustful adventure.)

It’s been a busy couple of weeks in your personal and professional life. You haven’t had a chance to rest, besides the occasion blowjob at the office. This week, you’ve finalized two groups that will be debuting in the near future. You’ve waited so long for your first group to debut that you couldn’t help but support them the best you could. You made the decision to move them out of their cramped dorms and into a nicer and more spacious apartment meant for confirmed idol groups.

Wanting to see their reaction, you disguise yourself as staff and help them move in. You can’t help but smile at their reaction when they see their new apartment. You and IU give them a tour and get furniture arranged to their liking. As you carry some of the heavy items, you can’t help but notice one of the members eyeing you from time to time. “Where do you want this box?” She walks between you, points at where she wants her item and continues to follow you around. You then hear, “Jennie, stop following him and come help us bring these boxes.” You see Jennie’s face turn red from the comment that her groupmate Jisoo made.

After a couple of hours, the five members thank you for your help, and you let them know to inform IU if you need any help, to which they happily agree.

——————

You’re heading up the elevator when it stops. The door opens, and you see a familiar figure.

“Jessica?”

“Ahh, yes,” bowing after realizing you’re Taeyeon and IU’s boss.

“Don’t need to be formal. Feel free to speak freely.”

“Okay.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to surprise IU and Taeyeon, but they’re not home.”

“Oh… I think they’re busy until late tonight.”

You can see her reaction change and say, “Seems like something is bothering you.”

“Yeah, I need to talk to them about something.”

“If you don’t mind, I’m willing to lend an ear. How about joining me for dinner?”

She stays silent and seems to think about it for a while but makes up her mind, “Yeah, I think I’ll take you on the offer.”

The two of you head to your apartment, “Wow, your place is so big. I didn’t know you had a whole floor to yourself.”

“It’s nice. I know I won’t have time to commute from home, so I moved next to the company, which makes it much easier. Want a drink?”

“Sure.”

You serve her a drink, and she sits on the stool, watching you prepare dinner. You make a nice Korean meal, and the two of you share some wine. She tells you about the problems between her members, but more about her failed relationship with her now ex-boyfriend.

“He’s such a dumb ass. He was so scared of people finding out about our relationship that he just chose to distance each other.”

“His loss. If I was him, I wouldn’t care what people think.”

“Right, he’s such a wuss. I don’t need people like that in my life.”

“Maybe you’ll find someone that cares for you. I mean, look at you; you’re beautiful; who wouldn’t want to date you.”

“Aww, thank you. I would totally date you if you weren’t with Taeyeon,” says Jessica as she takes a sip of her wine.

“What do you mean together with Taeyeon?”

“Aren’t you to dating?”

“No, I’m not with anyone.”

“Oh… it just seemed with you were. She said you to had a thing.”

“We fucked, but nothing serious.”

“So you’re not together?”

“No.”

Jessica fixes her hair and undoes her blouse a bit, “You know, it's been a while since my ex and fucked. He was too intimidated by my popularity that he stopped giving me affection.”

“Oh really, maybe I can help you with that.”

“Hmm… I don’t know. We don’t know each other that well,” teasing you as she shows off a bit of cleavage.

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine, but from the looks of it, you need someone to fuck you real good to make you forget that bitch of a boyfriend you had.”

She smirked at you, knowing that you hit the nail. “Not saying that I’ll let you, but if I did, what would you do to me?”

“I’ll take you right here, right now, and put you on all fours. I’ll put your ass up and shove my cock in that hungry cunt of yours and fuck you until you forget that ex of yours.”

You could see that she was getting turned on by the way she would move her legs under the kitchen counter. You know she needs a good fucking, and she knows it as well.

“You think you can make me forget about him? You’re that good?”

“If Taeyeon told you about what do you think?”

“You’re just talking.”

You walk around the countertop, turn her stool around to face you, and say, “Just say the word, and I’ll guarantee you forget that ex of yours.” You look straight into her eyes; you can see the lust in her. You know the thin line she is about to cross; you can see it in your eye; all you need to hear is the magic words.

“Fuck me, make me forget.”

Those are the words you wanted to hear. The is no going back, especially for her. You’ll make sure you make her forget about that sad excuse of a boyfriend.

She wraps her legs around you as you pick her up from the stool and take her to the couch. She kisses you passionately on the way there, but you don’t care for that and toss her onto the couch. You take off your shirt and see her eyes widen, and biting her lip. Her reaction makes you smirk and decide to go all out. You’re not here for foreplay; you’re here to fuck the shit out of her.

You pull off her skirt and panties, tossing them across the room, “Wow, so eager, huh.”

“I’m here to fuck you, right? Plus, I can see that you’re wet already, so let’s not waste any time.”

She nods her head, and you continue to undress, pulling down your pants and boxers, revealing your cock.

She gasps when she sees your cock spring out and says, “Oh my god. Your cock is so big!”

“Bigger than your ex, huh.”

“Yeah, much, much bigger. His doesn’t even compare. Don’t think it’s all going to fit inside me, though.”

“It will. It fits inside of Taeyeon. I bet you’ll take me in nicely, too.”

You grab your cock and slap it on her slightly shaven cunt, just small traces of hair from not having sex in a while. She could feel the hot radiating from your cock, making her cunt leak even more.

“You like it?,” asking as you press your cock on her pelvis. “Yeah, I want you in me; make me forget of that dirtbag.”

You can help but smile as you align your rock-hard cock and slowly press the tip inside of the entrance. Jessica moans and whines, from how much you’re stretching her, “Oh my god! You’re so big!” You grab her hips with a firm grip and press your weight on her. She feels your thick cock spread her walls, “Fuck… it feels like you’re splitting me in half!”

“You’re so tight! How small was your ex? Feels like I’m the first one fucking you!”

She whines and groans as your try to insert more of your cock, “Much smaller! His cock is nothing compared to yours!”

You can’t help but laugh at the poor guy, “Damn, poor guy, but don’t worry; I’m going to stretch you real good,” as you slam your cock all the way inside Jessica’s womb. She screams in both pain and pleasure, “You’re hitting me so deep! Let me breathe a bit,” but you don’t let her. You’re here to fuck and enjoy and enjoy, so watching her whine turns you on. You increase the speed and strength of your thrusting and can see Jessica go in a state of ecstasy. Her body and mind are experiencing something they have never experienced before.

You can’t help but smile at the sight of Jessica’s eyes rolling back and making her into a complete mess. It’s not long until she ends up having an orgasm, her body squirming, “Ahh… ahh, fuck! What’s going on? Why is my body feeling so hot? I feel like I’m going to pee!” and cries as she sprays you of liquid when you pinch her clit.

You pull your cock and are sprayed with Jessica’s liquid and see her panting. You immediately plugged your cock back inside of her, causing her to cough violently from the sudden pain of her womb getting stabbed. She tries to push you off, but it's no use. You can feel your own high arriving, and you need to see it through.

Her walls were tight, and it was making you reach your peak; you know that it’s the first time you two actually met besides her casual visit, but you really want to cum inside of her like one of your sleeves.

“Fuck… I’m about to cum.”

Jessica’s eyes go wide, and she says, “Wait… cum outside, pull out!”

“Nah… I’m going to cum inside!” you yell and grab her waist and blow your load inside of her. Jessica’s back arches and her body shakes as she feels your heavy white load invade her cunt. “Fuck…your pussy is milking me…”

It takes a while for Jessica to regain her composure, but after some time, she lifts her head up and says, “I told you to pull out. Why did you come in me?”

“You said you wanted to forget about your ex, right?”

“Yeah, but don’t just cum inside me.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t. Not even my ex came inside of me,” she pouted.

“Haha, really?

“Yes, I made him wear a condom every time.”

“So that means I’m the first one to paint you white?”

“Yes…”

You can’t help yourself but get turned on again. You pick her up and carry her to the bedroom next to yours. She yelps when you toss her onto the bed and turn her over. You lift her, press her body down and lift her butt up in the air and spread her legs.

“Wait…what are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m hard, and I really want to fuck you, so just relax and enjoy.”

“Wait… I’m not…” you don’t give her time to finish off her sentence as you quickly align your cock to her entrance and shove it in one go. “Oh fuck! You’re being too rough!”

You grab her ass and give it a nice feel before giving it a hard slap. Jessica groans in pain from your large hand on her rear but gets turned on. Seeing her reaction, you continue to slap her ass, every time with a heavy hand, until her ass is completely red.

You thrust inside of her for about ten minutes until you’re at your peak once more. With your two hands, you grab her hips and bring them towards you as you place your weight on her and say, “I’m cumming! I’m going to paint your walls completely white. Your pussy is mine!”

You unload a massive amount of cum inside her, completely drowning her cunt of your seed, “Take my cum!” as Jessica’s blood comes rushing to her head. She grabs onto the bedsheets, gripping them hard as you drop your load into her cunt. “It’s too much; you’re going to drown me!”

You pull out your cock and watch your cum ooze out of her and stain the bed. “How was it?”

“Hot. I can feel the warmth right here,” she says as she points at her tummy.

———-

The two of you spend the whole night fucking, round after round. You smirk as she moans out your name and digs her nails deep into your arm as you fuck her. Anywhere from the hot tub, out on the balcony, and the shower. By the next day, she’s a mess, her womb completely yours and the shape of your massive cock. You know she’s ruined for any other man that’s not near your size.

“Still remember your ex?”

“What ex?”

You can’t help but laugh as you enjoy a blowjob from Jessica while lying on the bed. With her hand around your cock she bobs her head. Her tongue coats every inch of you with a thick layer of saliva. You grab your phone and take a quick picture before Jessica notices. She lifts her and catches you, “Hey, what are you doing?”

You grab her head and press it back down, causing her to gag when your cock hits the back of her throat. The sudden reaction of hitting her throat causes you to bust a load. In a panic, she tries to drink as much as she can because it's too much for her and gags. You release your grip, and Jessica lifts her head up, coughing. You watch cum dripping out her mouth and back onto your pelvis. “Lick it off.” She sees your serious look and does as she’s told, licking off the cum she just spits out.

Suddenly, her phone rings, and she grabs the phone from the nightstand. She answered the phone, and it was Taeyeon with IU.

“Why haven’t you answered our texts? Where are you?”

“Sorry, I fell asleep after getting home.”

“Oh, okay, we’re sorry we were not able to meet yesterday. How about joining us for brunch?”

“Hmmm… I think we can…” She stops mid-sentence when she sees what’s in front of her.

You wave your cock in front of her and whisper, “Want to go again?”

She sees your limp cock get hard in a matter of seconds and is now at full length. She bites her lip and climbs on top of you, lifts herself to your cock, and with her free hand, aligns it to her cum stained, covered cunt before dropping her whole weight on you. She yelps from the girth and tightens her walls, “Ahh… actually, I have some last-minute things I need to take care of that might take me a while. How about meeting later next week?”

“Oh… okay. Next week sounds good.”

“Okay, bye…”

You grab the phone off her hands and end the call, throwing her phone at the end of the bed. “I see someone wants to go another round.”

“Shut up.”

“How about this round? Grab some breakfast after. Maybe dinner, too.” She smiles and begins to ride you.

——————

The two of you end up sending the whole weekend fucking like animals. At the end of each session, she begs you to pump her womb with cum, even going as far as to breed her. Like a gentleman, you do as you're told and even tease about her ex; she pinches your thigh and tells you to fuck her harder. You even joke around and say, “Do you think we know each other better now?”

388 notes · View notes

irb-pascalito-99 · 3 months

Text

Text you Later

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: Joel calls while at work for some lunch time shenanigans.

Warnings: phone sex, masturbation, pictures, dirty talk, praise, semi public sex

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter twelve of my ongoing fic Always an Angel, Never a God to read more visit A03.

I try to ignore the buzz of my phone in my back pocket as I carry my end of the armoire. Bill huffs when I adjust the piece of furniture in my arms. Once we’re in position we put the legs down carefully.

I automatically pull out my phone to check my texts once my hands are free. A smile spreads across my face when I see it’s Joel again.

Joel: Meet up for lunch?

I bite my lip and look up at Bill who has continued to walk around the store adjusting other items. I lean my hip against the armoire as I type out my reply.

Me: Can’t :( leaving early today for Ellie’s appointment

Frank appears over my shoulder as I press send. I jump as he attempts to glance at the screen.

“Who you texting?” He asks with a sly smile. I shove the phone back in my pocket. I shrug in response and walk toward the front counter. “A man?”

“No Frank,” I lie. “It was just Maria asking if we could hang out tonight.”

The look on his face says he clearly doesn’t believe me. I ignore the next buzz from my phone, and the one that comes immediately after.

“Okay then…” Frank says. “Well I just wanted to see if you wanted this desk we just got in. I know you mentioned wanting to get something Ellie can use in that room.”

Ellie and I agreed to change our parents’ room to an art space the two of us can use. We’ve already packed all the stuff that remains there in boxes. Joel helped put them in the attic for safekeeping. Tomorrow everyone is coming over to help move the furniture out and paint the walls

I follow Frank to the back of the store where we keep the inventory before we put it out. While his back is turned to me I quickly pull out my phone to respond to Joel.

Joel: But I miss you…

Joel: Can we call at least?

Me: Give me like 15 minutes ;)

I throw my phone back in my pocket as Frank stops in front of an old writer’s desk. I run my hand along the cherry stained wood. It’s in great condition, probably worth a decent amount of money.

There’s a lot of drawers as well. I open a couple, they seem decently deep so Ellie could probably store a decent amount of supplies in it. She’s been getting really into sketching lately so a place where she could sit and draw would be really nice.

“How much do you want for it?” I ask.

“Don’t worry about it,” I turn to Frank as he waves his hand. I give him a frustrated look, while I appreciate his generosity it doesn’t feel right to constantly like Frank and Bill take care of me. I don’t want to be their charity case, but Frank won’t hear it. “Think of it as me supporting local artists. You can pay us back with a painting or have Ellie draw something.”

“I’m sure Bill would love whatever she draws of him,” I joke. Frank laughs. I run my hand over the wood again. It would really mean a lot for Ellie to have her own dedicated space in the room.

I let out an exasperated sigh. Frank grins as I concede. He pulls a SOLD sign out of his back pocket and puts it on top of the desk.

“I’ll have Bill load it up when we come over tomorrow.” He says.

He wraps an arm around me while we walk back up front. I feel my phone buzz again. Frank must hear the sound of the vibration because he looks at me amusedly.

“Maria again?” I shrug and walk around the counter to keep myself busy until I can find an excuse to go somewhere private and talk to Joel. “Girl can’t seem to get enough today, you’ve been glued to that phone all morning.”

“It’s probably that contractor guy,” Bill grumbles from across the room. I snap my head to him, trying to keep the blush off my cheeks. “The one she’s all goo-goo eyes for.”

So much for not blushing. I try to hide my burning face from view of Bill and Frank. I feel like a child caught crushing on the popular boy at school.

“Ahh yeah, Joel right?” Frank says. He turns back to me. “Is he coming to help tomorrow?”

“Joel? I think so. I know Maria said Tommy’s coming to help out with the muscle so I’d imagine Joel would be there too.” I try to act casual, but my voice comes out slightly higher than normal.

“Hmm, yeah we know that one has some muscle,” Frank says. I blush even more, just barely managing to stop myself from dropping my jaw at Frank’s comment.

“Sounds like you’re the one with the crush, Frank.” Frank laughs.

“Just making an observation,” he chides. “I think you could use a man like that…”

“Stop,” I beg. I hide my face in my hands. Frank laughs. Bill walks over to help a customer who just walked in while Frank pats me on the shoulder. “I’m taking a break.”

Frank shakes his head, still laughing. I walk toward the back of the shop. I take one more look over my shoulder before I disappear into the backroom.

I make my way to the bathroom and pull out my phone. I lean against the bathroom wall as I call Joel. He answers almost immediately.

“Someone’s needy today,” I joke. I make sure to keep my voice down so anyone who is outside of the bathroom door can’t hear.

“Babygirl, you have no idea.” I shudder at his nickname for me. His voice is deep with a sultry thickness pouring out like molasses. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Haven’t seen you all week, it’s killing me.”

“I know,” I respond. I half whisper into the phone. “I’m sorry, I miss you too. It’s just been crazy with work and Ellie. Getting Ellie caught up with classes has been rough. Turns out I’m really bad at math…”

“Darlin’ why are you whisperin’?” Joel asks.

“I’m in the bathroom at the shop. I don’t want Bill and Frank to hear me, they’ve already been making jokes about me crushing on you. I don't need them to hear anything else.” Joel laughs on the other end. “Stop that, it’s not funny!”

“Sorry sweetheart, but it kinda is.” I roll my eyes. “So you’re crushing on me huh?”

“Shut up,” I grumble. Joel laughs again and then the line goes silent.

“So…what are you wearing?”

“Oh, so it’s one of those phone calls. You’re really over there making fun of me while you’re waiting for me to help you get off?” I tease.

“Well I was going to pick you up and fuck you on a back road in my truck somewhere, but someone couldn’t get away from work.” I whimper at the thought.

It has been getting increasingly harder to sneak around these days. I’ve had to put so much focus on Ellie in order to prove to Marlene that things are solid with us. Joel has been extremely understanding, and my relationship with Ellie has never been better, but it’s been frustrating not to have alone time with him.

“You like that huh? Want to ride my cock in the front seat of my car, naughty girl.” I feel my pussy start to drip at his words. Fuck, I need him. “Go on, tell me what you’re wearing princess.”

“I can send you a picture…” I say. I smile when I hear Joel groan.

I position myself in front of the mirror and adjust my clothes a bit. I pull my neckline down a bit to show off more of my breasts. I turn to the side slightly so he can see the curve of my ass and then hook my thumb in the top of my jeans and pull them down just enough that he can see the top of my lacy black panties.

I take a couple pictures until I get one that I really like and send it over to him. I hear him moan when I pull the phone back to my ear, and then the sound of his belt clinking as he undoes it.

“Another baby, please. Let me see you.” I go back to the door and crack it open for a second. I don’t see anyone outside so I close it and lock the door.

I walk back to the mirror, setting the phone on the counter for a second, and take off my shirt. I push my jeans off as well and stand in front of the mirror wearing only my bra and underwear. I should be embarrassed doing this in the store bathroom, but a rush if adrenaline pumps through my veins as I position myself in front of the mirror. I nice one hand down, ghosting the lips of my pussy on the outside of my panties. I bite my lip and throw my head back, taking the picture and immediately sending it to Joel.

“Fuckk baby, so pretty for me.” I moan quietly at his praise. “Touch yourself gorgeous. Touch that pretty pussy for me. I want to hear you.”

I lean against the wall again and snake my fingers inside my underwear. I run them through my soaking folds, my underwear drenched as I hear the faint slapping sound of Joel’s fist moving up and down his cock.

“Oh Joel, I’m so wet for you,” I moan, making sure to keep my voice down.

Joel groans and a shiver runs down my spine. I dip two fingers inside my hole, my thumb starting to make circle motions. I whimper into the phone as I start to pump my fingers in and out. I try to match my pace to the sounds of Joel jacking off on the other end of the line. He moans loudly at my noises.

“Tell me what you’re doin’ right now sugar. What’s makin’ you make those sweet little noises?” He starts to pick up his pace, panting into the phone desperately.

“I’m touching myself.” I huff. “I got…got two fingers inside… wish it was your fingers, or your cock. Fuck, Joel wish you were splitting me open right now.”

Joel groans again, the sounds of him pumping himself getting louder.

“God, babygirl fuck. I wish I was there too.” I speed up my fingers, my climax building as he goes on. “Wish it was your pussy clenching around my cock right now instead of my hand. Got me fuckin’ jackin’ off in a goddamn parking lot, that’s what you do to me.”

I moan, a little louder than I probably should have. I move the phone to rest between my face and shoulder so I can cover my mouth as my other hand continues to move underneath my panties. I close my eyes and picture him in his truck outside his job site, thrusting his cock into his hands with his phone to his ear.

“Can anyone see you?” I ask. Joel chuckles darkly at my question.

“I don’t think so, not right now,” he grunts into the phone again. “Why gorgeous? That get you off? You like the idea of me gettin’ caught fuckin’ my fist to the thought of you?”

My stomach tightness and I moan again. I’m so close. So fucking close.

“Yeah, I think it does.” His words send another wave of pleasure through me. I’m right on the edge. “I think you like what you do to me. Think you like how desperate you make me, can’t stop thinkin’ of that pussy all goddamn week. You gettin’ close baby?”

“Yes, god yes, Joel please don’t stop.” Joel groans again.

“That’s it darlin’, I’m almost there too. Come for me babygirl. Come for me.”

I keep pumping my fingers in and out of my pussy until I’m finally pushed over the edge, panting and moaning around my other hand as I try to muffle my noises.

It doesn’t take long for Joel to follow. His groans sound more animal than human as I hear him pump his cock a couple more times and then stop. We both pant into the phone as we come down.

After my heart slows down I walk back to my discarded shirt and jeans on the floor and put them back on. I hear Joel’s belt clink again on the other line as well.

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then?” Joel asks as I straighten my shirt in the mirror.

“Yes, but remember it’s going to be a full house so you need to behave,” I remind him. He scoffs at my remark.

“Darlin’ I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” I chuckle at his remark.

“Would a gentleman jack himself off in a parking lot in the middle of the day?” I ask.

“You got me there,” he laughs. “But I’ll do my best to keep my hands to myself tomorrow, no matter how hard it’ll be after not seein’ ya for so long.”

I smile sheepishly, giddy at the thought of him having missed me so much after just a week.

“Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” Joel agrees and we say our goodbyes. I wash my hands before heading back out to the front of the shop.

To read more visit A03

#pedro pascal #smut #fanfic #a03 fanfic #a03 writer #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel smut #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo

125 notes · View notes

euphoricimagination · 9 months

Text

Cute moments

Feat. Kenma & Kuroo

Just some cute stuff with the two cats while i work on my other project :)

Kenma – Building a shelf together

You met Kenma back in the first year of University, you were sitting next to each other and frankly, it took a solid 6 months for both of you to get comfortable with each other. The fact that both of you were shy meant that, while both of you greet each other every time you meet each other eyes, you didn’t talk that much outside of that.

But after talking for a while he started to open up to you, and you could easily say that his friendship was one of the cutest and nicest you ever had.

Now, 2 years later, you’re in Kenma’s house helping him with some things. You two started dating not long after you became friends, realizing that the reason it took you so long to even interact with each other was because you find the other attractive. Ever since you’ve been coming to Kenma’s place, a paradise in your eyes by how comfortable it was.

You were building one of his new shelves for his game room as he look up for the instructions online, not satisfied with the lack of explanations on the one coming in the box.

“Are you done with your phone? I could use a hand here” you say faking annoyance

“Don’t pretend you understand what those instructions mean, you’re just go with the flow” he smirks as he leaves his phone in the couch, helping you move the shelf up

“Well, it’s much better than just sitting there while doing nothing” you put your tongue out “This is for your house after all”

“Sorry, sorry” he admits “but you stay so much here that almost all my neighbors think you already live here”

“Shut up and help me” you say blushing, making him laugh as he continues helping you build the shelf. After finishing and move it to its respective place you start putting some of the games on it, feeling a pair of arms through your waist

“Thank you for helping me, really” Kenma says giving you a kiss on the cheek “I owe you a lot, for everything you’ve done for me”

“Its alright, it’s a good way to spend time together, besides, you’ve done a lot more for me, the least I could do is help you to build a shelf” you say turning around, hugging him tightly

“I just help you pay for stuff, I have money so it’s not that big of a deal, you have bring me so much more than money can’t give, that I don’t know how could I properly repay you” he pulls you closer to him, hugging you even more tightly than before “I love you so much”

“I love you too” you say laying your head on his shoulder, this was much more than just assembling furniture, it was about facing life’s challenges together, one step at a time.

Kuroo – notebook with doodle of his name

After the Spring Interhigh ended, Kuroo finally had to leave the volleyball club. That led into him speeding more time with studying for your final high school test, after all both of you were graduating soon.

You two haven’t been dating for too long, just 2 months now, but you had a crush on him for almost a year before. It was hard not to, he was tall, sporty, handsome and smart, literally the perfect man. It was his laugh, his witty comments during discussions, and his encouraging support no matter what you do that made you fall for him.

You two are currently at the library, a bunch of books spread on the table of the library. As you wrote down something in your notebook that you knew will appear on the exam, you hear the voice of Kuroo whisper to you

“Love, can I borrow your English notes? I feel I wrote something wrong but I can’t figure out what” he asks you

“Sure” you pass him your notebook without much thought. You had completely forgotten that you have used that notebook for around 2 years now, around the time your crush on the setter started; and you had completely forgotten what you wrote there too.

Until you heard Kuroo trying to not laugh out loud.

You look up to him confused, him only reciprocating a teasing look with a smirk on

“I know you love me kitten, but this much?”

“Eh? What are you on?”

“C’mon kitten, don’t pretend now” he chuckles as he turns around your notebook, a page full of doodles in where you can easily see his name in different ways, circled, on a heart, calligraphy, and the most embarrassing one, a ‘Kuroo+Yn’. You started blushing at the sudden discovery he made as he tries harder to contain his laugh.

“I..i was…ehhhh” yo say trying to think of an excuse, not finding a reasonable one to explain as to why his name was all over your notebook

“You’re the cutest kitten” he says patting your head lovingly

“Shut up” You scoffed

“Were you that obsessed with me that you had to write my name all over your English notes?”

“I’m gonna kill you” you say hiding your face into a book, pretending to read, but unluckily for you, the book was upside down, making the tall man just explode in laughter at how cute you were being.

And although after that none of you could properly study, Kuroo left the library with a warning from the librarian and a heart full of adoration for you.

255 notes · View notes

gender-trash · 2 years

Text

the post about fast fashion/sewing one’s own clothes blew up again… honestly the more i think about it the angrier i am about it. with both clothing and furniture we sort of live in a world where the market is being overtaken by disposable items made with cheap materials at the lowest possible labor cost. and like, not to diss ikea or anything — god knows they’ve supplied me with enough cheap bookshelves — but this is exactly why i ended up building my own desk.

my dad tells stories about his mom, who was very talented at sewing — it wasn’t her “day job” but in that part of rural iowa in the 60s she was the person you called if, say, you needed a wedding dress on next to no notice. (i’m also told she was excellent at baking pies, but that’s beside the point.) at that time and place, it was legitimately *cheaper* to make your own clothes than to buy them from the store. they would be made of much the same materials, except that you would substitute your own labor for that of whoever assembled the storebought garment.

today, the fabric to make a shirt will almost certainly cost you more than an equivalent department store shirt would. to say nothing of the cost of your time and labor. part of this is that people who sew their own clothes generally don’t want to waste their time on shit fabric, so fabric stores don’t sell quite the same grade of shreddable polyester. part of this is that our modern globalized supply chain has minimized both labor and materials costs as hard as it can, and this optimization has intertwined labor and materials sourcing a lot more than they apparently were in the 60s.

let’s turn back to the subject of furniture. the equivalent of the cheap polyester department-store shirt is the ikea desk. the desk surface is made of laminated particle-board, which is lighter and cheaper than actual wood; the desk is sold to you flat-pak, and you assemble it yourself, thus saving on labor costs. the laminate surface will probably delaminate after a few years’ use. also as with the cheap shirt, any damage is near-impossible to fix — you could sand and refinish a scuffed plywood surface, but there’s no sanding laminated particle-board. it’s also harder to modify to suit one’s needs — i can drill a neat hole for a monitor arm in my plywood desk much more easily than in a particle-board surface.

in both cases, what do you do if you want a slightly higher grade of item? well, obviously you’ll have to pay more money — but it’s difficult to be sure you’re really getting your money’s worth. you have to spend ages and ages comparison-shopping and reading reviews about how quality has really gone downhill since production moved to [new country]. often — especially with clothes — the thing that your money is actually paying for is Style, as separate from Substance. or good advertising. i’ve been halfheartedly in the market for a decent couch for some time, and i’ve noticed that nearly every apartment makeover video on youtube is sponsored by the same furniture website, which of course has provided a free couch — that the youtuber assures us is Really Good, For The Price. as soon as a manufacturer acquires a reputation for Quality, it is in their economic interest to sell out as hard and fast as they can and pocket the increased margin from selling crap at the price of quality until people notice. and in a world where most shopping has moved online, it’s difficult to tell whether you’re still in the actual-quality period. i’m not sure if there even *are* furniture stores around here at quality levels in between ikea and danish concepts (suggesting a market for a mid-tier scandinavian furniture purveyor, perhaps hailing from norway or finland).

because of the sort of person that i am, i tire rapidly of the endless comparison shopping. i don’t want to become a damn couch supply chain expert, i just want to retire the folding chair from my living room. it can’t be *that* hard to build a couch, can it? well, not if one is privileged enough to have the tools and time and space to do it in. i think most of the comments and tags on the fast fashion post are from people wishing they had one or more of the above to make their own clothes with. speaking from direct personal experience, a sewing machine is at least both cheaper and easier to find space for than a minimally equipped woodshop.

the other common piece of advice is to buy used, buy from a thrift store or an estate sale. unfortunately hunting down all your shit used also takes a lot of time and effort, and particularly in the case of furniture hauling the stuff home is a nontrivial logistical problem. again, money or more nebulous forms of privilege (the friend with the truck) are needed to smooth these roadblocks. and it’s really amazing that the solution to “i want an item that is not garbage” is “buy an item manufactured at a time when they were not yet garbage”. yes, of course, the less-durable instances won’t have survived the passage of time, but that’s only part of the effect. things genuinely used to be manufactured to a higher standard of quality. my sewing machine is from ebay; it’s the same model my *other* grandma had, a baseline singer consumer-grade machine. all its gears are metal, and it has a heavy-ass cast metal housing, too. the other household sewing machine is a modern singer consumer-grade machine and for all its fancy stitches it looks sort of like a doll’s toy — the plastic gears are going to break at some point, or the motor will burn out, and if it turns out that the motor on the modern edition is designed to be user-replaceable i will personally eat a hat. i suppose we also used to ask a lot more of our consumer-grade sewing machines, back when sewing one’s own clothes was a baseline household skill for everyone but Rich People, instead of a hobby that consumes more money than it saves you.

i don’t know if my post really has a conclusion. i’m just angry that we live in a fallen world full of miraculous technology and yet we have not solved the seemingly simple economic problem of exchanging a reasonable amount of money for a newly produced durable good that isn’t a complete piece of shit. i am a *robotics engineer*, for the love of fuck; i have a complicated, rare, well-compensated skillset. it cannot *possibly* be a comparative advantage for me to spend my time building a couch or sewing a shirt instead of paying someone to do it for me (ideally also, if i may ask for a miracle, someone who gets things like fair pay and healthcare and vacation time). why is this transaction so damn hard??

#the trashcan speaks #to say absolutely NOTHING of the way modern design has optimized for manufacturability above all other aesthetic concerns #uniqlo seems to have recently rediscovered the arcane knitting technology of ‘increases and decreases’ and is advertising it HARD #because of course these are dead fucking easy for a hand knitter but slow things down on a machine a lot more #and even midcentury modern furniture — at the time a lot more minimal in adornment than what came before (also due to increasing pressure #towards DfM) — is a lot froofier than most modern items. it has like. trim and stuff #the midcentury version of Cutting Corners was using a cheaper wood for the less visible bits and staining it to match #not whatever the fuck particleboard is supposed to be #sewing machine go brrr #civilizational (in)adequacy

2K notes · View notes

unclewaynemunson · 1 year

Text

Something’s off. Steve notices it as soon as he gets home. It’s nothing major, really, but something’s definitely off. There’s this weird silence in the hallway, instead of the usual metal that Eddie is basically blasting 24/7 whenever Steve isn’t home. There’s the absence of Olly showing his little face around the corner of the door to the kitchen upon hearing Steve coming in. There’s also the absence of some crazy scent explosion emerging from the kitchen like on a usual Tuesday evening.

Steve calls out Eddie’s name, questioning, not sure if he should be worried.

“Here!”

He releases a relieved breath and gets into the living room. Eddie is his usual messy self, wild curls hanging over one end of the couch and feet wrapped in colorful socks over the other, with Olly curled up and purring on his chest.

“Hey there,” Steve says. It isn’t until he comes closer to lean down for a kiss on Eddie’s forehead, that he notices something is most definitely very, very wrong. Eddie’s eyes are swollen and red-rimmed, salty traces covering his cheeks and used tissues scattered all over the floor next to the couch. His hands are clenching into Olly’s fur, his chest is heaving unsteadily.

Eddie looks up at Steve, blinks once, twice, to get the water out of his eyes, a fresh tear rolling down his cheek.

“What happened, love?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his own, creating their familiar pile of Olly-Eddie-Steve, his thumb stroking over the back of Eddie’s hand.

Eddie takes a deep, shuddering breath, squeezes his eyes shut for a second. “Wayne’s sick.”

XXX

The thing is, Wayne has always been the strong one. Always. He was the arms that caught Eddie, the hands that wiped away his tears, the lips that kissed his bruises better despite his prickly beard. And now he’s - frail. There’s simply no other word for it. And Eddie doesn’t think he’s ready to be the strong one yet. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. Of course he knows that Wayne isn’t some immortal being, that he’s lived a life of harsh physical labor and cold Indiana winters, of canned beans and breakfast cigarettes since he was only a boy... But this is different. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. And Wayne knows that, too.

“I always thought it was gonna be my lungs that’d do me in,” he tells Eddie.

Eddie never thought of his uncle as an old man. But now, sitting next to his hospital bed, both his hands clasped around Wayne’s, he sees it. He sees the lines on his forehead, the near-white shade of grey of what little hair he has left on his head, the tired look in his eyes, the age spots scattered all over his arms...

Eddie releases one of his hands to wipe over his eyes. He feels another pair of hands squeezing his shoulders from behind him, reminding him that he isn’t alone, that there’s still someone else who can be the strong one when Eddie can’t.

He takes a breath.

“Nothing’s doin’ you in, man,” he manages to choke out, strengthening his grip on Wayne’s hands. Those strong, calloused hands, that have lived through so much. The hands that caught him countless times. The hands that held him tight whenever he needed it. The hands that wiped away his tears. The hands that fixed his van. The hands that ruffled his curls. The hands that held a fishing rod like a pro. The hands that tirelessly drilled holes in walls and assembled furniture when Eddie moved out of the trailer and into the apartment he and Steve got in Indianapolis. The hands that are currently resting limply on top of white hospital sheets. Frail hands.

“Ed...”

“No, I’m serious,” Eddie says. He’s always been good at running. No way in hell he’s gonna stop that habit now. "You're gonna get better. And when you do, we'll take you back home, okay? Not to Hawkins - to your real home. You, me, Steve and the van, right? You’ll see the mountains again. We’re gonna drive all the way across them, get you back to the other side, ya hear me? It’ll be this great adventure, just the three of us. We’ll stay there for as long as we want to. And then we’ll go back to Indy, and you’ll move in with us, and we’ll take care of you. And you’ll be there when we get a real house, you’ll be there when we get our first little nugget, and every next one of them, and you’ll get to play with them and see them grow up and see us goin’ grey and gettin’ old and wrinkled and fat, and you’ll be there when Lord of the Rings gets made into a movie and when world hunger gets solved and when gay marriage becomes legal and when we get our first black president and when The Police reunites... That’s how it’s gonna go, you understand?”

There’s this look in Wayne’s eyes, this look that completely terrifies Eddie, and he can’t do a thing except for collapsing onto his uncle’s chest, breathing in his scent and crying against his shirt as Wayne’s hand tangles itself in Eddie’s curls. And it doesn’t matter - it doesn’t matter that Wayne is weak and sick and lying in a hospital bed. Because he’s still the strong one. He’s still the hands that catch Eddie when Eddie breaks down. Even now.

XXX

They should’ve known that Eddie would be right. Of course they should’ve known. No God can turn down someone as stubborn as Eddie Munson - not even a God Eddie doesn’t believe in.

Wayne missed the mountain air, the perfectly prepared corn fritters, the drool in the voices around him, the natural hospitality. It’s good to be back, to get to share his roots with his boys. But it’s not like coming home. Home is where his own parents moved him some fifty years ago, with dreams of a better future that didn’t quite hold for them. Home is a rickety trailer park that doesn’t have warm water most of the time. Home is the woods around Hawkins, the rolling hills, the chilly autumn wind. But most of all, home is the smile of the boy who took him here. It’s long dark curls and big brown eyes that are currently tearing up because Wayne is standing next to him and getting stronger by the day and very much alive. It’s the memories they share, of Wayne opening his arms to catch Eddie when he was so much smaller than now; of going fishing at Lover’s Lake in the weekends; of cigarette stubs and beer bottles and metal boxes that Wayne chose to not know the contents of; of laughter and crying and fear and comfort and a whole shared lifetime, a boy growing up and still needing to be caught again and again and again.

And Wayne still does it. He still catches his boy. His two boys, now. And he’s planning on keeping to do that for a long, long time.

#whoops i made myself cry #this might have been the angstiest thing i've ever written #but i don't think i'll ever be able to do sad endings lol #and i know nothing of american subcultures so i'm very sorry if my cultural descriptions make zero sense #i tried my best #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #wayne munson my beloved #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne munson #stranger things #fruity ficlet

719 notes · View notes

rosestarlightkatarina · 7 months

Text

The night.

Donna Beneviento x reader

This one is all about fluff and sleepy atmosphere

I hope you enjoy🖤🌙

No doubt today is a way too harsh on you. Everything is out of hand and it makes you feel even more exhausted. But the most frustrating thing is that you don’t have any chances to meet the doll maker, let alone a little talk to her. She acts more like a pretty ghost in a pretty old house and you try to copy this behavior. Expect Angie. The only one thing you have to do for being the reason of her laugh or anger is breathing. Even sleeping isn’t always a good cause for her to stop. You must be more creative than that. But you two seem to get along recently. It’s actually a miracle how you are still alive. Consider yourself lucky. However some horrible questions about their true intentions come to your head every night. And the only one person, who knows the answer, is ignoring your existence, preferring the company of her own. Except Angie, of course. When the sun hides behind the waterfall, the owner of the manor comes from somewhere, takes her continuously chatting feral creature and disappears. You can swear she has some teleportation skills. For one moment you could say she was an illusion or a fever dream of yours. But there was always Angie with her bites to make you deny these thoughts swiftly. Still your various assumptions are never gone. This night does not differ from the others. Eyes are shut but mind is overwhelmed. Thus, after some useless attempts to fall asleep, you find yourself wandering around the empty house until you see the dim light coming from the slightly open door. The curiosity wins so you have no choice but come a little closer on your tiptoes. Behind the crack there is your lady, painting a little porcelain face, all alone. Just her and soft sound of creating a new friend. Something about this view makes you stay, watching her work quietly. That’s impolite to stare you think when it’s too late. Unfortunately, the period of time is long enough to get noticed by her. Now you are caught and there is no way back. You have to speak.

"My lady, I apologise for interrupting you. I didn’t mean anything bad. I have an insomnia. Please may I stay here? Just for a little while." You say that so fast as if you are ready to get killed for your audacity. But the slight nod is the only response you have.

You hoped for this reaction but wasn’t really prepared. So you just froze for a few seconds before finally making your way through the room, looking at its beautifully arranged furniture. Still something, without any sign of mercy, is beckoning you to come to her as closer as possible. Besides, the is always a chance for you not to see the tomorrow morning. So you just decided to use all of your carriage to keep this opportunity. You slowly got down on the floor next to her, waiting for any sign of her disapproval to run away and blame yourself for such a stupid behavior for the rest of your life. You don’t know exactly what you are doing. It’s really hard to use the brains when every part of your soul is screaming inside you. Fortunately and scarily, she didn’t show any urge to stop you. You just closed your eyes, leaning your cheek to her dress to feel the soft material caressing your face. Every little thing about this woman is soothing and cosy. You can’t help this atmosphere wrapping you up in its embrace. You have been waiting for these minutes for too long that it almost makes you cry in relief. You feel like you’re in heaven and it suits your thoughts of being probably already dead just fine. It’s like being asleep and you look exactly this way when her fingers runs through your locks. Your heart is about to fly away from the chest but you don’t dare to move, relishing the soft touch. It would be unforgivable to scare this precious moment off. She keeps gently stroking your hair, sometimes drawing circles and flowers on the top of your head. You do your best not to tremble and pretend to sleep. But after half an hour it is not an acting anymore. You don’t realise how tired you are so…you wake up. In your bed. In your room. Is it just another dream? Who knows. Well, only the one may know.

#may English grammar forgive me #I do my best I promise #screaming crying throwing up while writing it #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento x y/n #lady donna beneviento #angie beneviento #donna re8 #re8 fic #fanfic

84 notes · View notes

kitthepurplepotato · 6 months

Text

Chapter 12 - Shopping date

Summary: Katsuki and Y/N goes furniture shopping. Y/N gets a bit overwhelmed.

Warnings: Swear words, Katsuki makes a comment about his balls, almost NSFW at the end but there is a warning before it and it’s skippable!

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Let’s… do something… together.” Katsuki mumbles while he enjoys his black coffee on the couch.

Well, seeing the stage of this bloody apartment after your fight, you kinda feel like this shouldn’t be a priority right now, but okay.

“I thought we are going shopping today?” You mumble back, still half asleep. Bro, it will be an absolute pain in the ass to get used to the early mornings again after this week. Katsuki is quite an early riser but thanks to your amazing talent in cuddling even he managed to stay in bed at least until 8 every day.

“They have food in the furniture store. There is also a park next to it with a pond. Koi fishes. And shit.” He mutters under his nose with red cheeks and ears. You make the most annoying sound in the whole world as the realization hits you.

“Are you trying to ask me on a date, Kats?” You wheeze. Your belly hurts. Oh damn, your boyfriend is the cutest fucking thing in the whole world.

Katsuki does not like to be ridiculed so needless to say you barely manage to dodge the explosion that comes towards you.

“You know what? Fuck you. Just fuck you.” He’s about to leave the sofa but you quickly tackle him.

“I want to go on a date with you.” You leave a tiny kiss on the grumpy blond’s lips. He only pouts at that and it’s absolutely fucking adorable. “Then I want to kiss you by your door and… well… maybe continue doing that for the rest of the night.”

You absolutely love how Katsuki becomes a putty under you. The tension leaves his body, his frown disappears, his murderous intentions long forgotten as he looks up at you in a silent plead to continue. It’s still early so Katsuki is still pliant; you wouldn’t be able to get away with this in the afternoon.

“Stop talking bullshit, you have a doctors appointment early in the morning tomorrow. I don’t want you to arrive all banged up thanks to me.” The blond smirks but his hand is soft and careful as he tugs a stray lock of hair behind your ears.

“Is that why you are restraining yourself all the time?” You leave kisses all over the his neck, absolutely loving the way he moves into it and makes you space to be able to continue further.

“No comment.” He sighs, his ears even more red than they were a second ago. Your lips slowly trail down to his naked torso, leaving small kisses all over his massive scar on his chest. “Now let me take a cold shower, otherwise we won’t make it to the store.” He retorts, suddenly angry. “And stop fucking teasing me, I’m quite sure my balls are blue at this point.”

Okay. That was… a bit too much information. You shuffle away with a red face. Not like you don’t have the same problem when it comes to the explosive blonde. The last few days were pure torture.

“Roger that.” You mumble as you make your way to your room to put on some decent clothing while you take a few deep breaths to not follow your hot ass boyfriend into the shower.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Katsuki is a fucking snob.

“I ain’t gonna get that no name shit!”

“I look at it and it’s already falling apart, fuck that. Where’s the branded stuff? … Oi, part-timer, where is the good stuff? Is this all you’ve got?”

You really want to explode his grumpy face right now.

“Katsuki, you can’t speak to him like that!” You retort but the sales adviser jumps into your words.

“Dynamight, sir, it’s a pleasure to have you here! Let me show you around!”

Oh, the guy has a little dynamight pin on his lanyard. That’s fucking sweet.

You guys end up in a secluded area full of fancy furniture; and by fancy, you mean FANCY. There are way too many zeroes on the price tags.

“These are made of high-end materials, super sturdy yet stunning! Those ones at the back are also fireproof. The golden lining is made out of actual 24K gold.” The boy is so proud of himself, it’s absolutely adorable.

“Katsuki…” You try to speak up but he’s not listening. Well, this is a shitty date.

“What about that black and magenta one at the back, the one this woman keeps staring at?” Katsuki asks the guy, who perks up at that; he’s probably thrilled to be able to spend more time with the hero.

You can’t believe Katsuki actually payed enough attention to you to see that you’ve found something you really like. You swear he didn’t even look your way for the last ten minutes.

“That one was made by Creati! It’s limited edition. Sadly, we don’t have a book shelf in that design, only that one dresser.”

That dresser is absolutely gorgeous. It looks all black from far away but when you get closer you can see some thin metallic dark pink lines on it, which makes it look like something out of a video game.

“I’ll take that. And the bookshelves with the golden lines.” Katsuki mutters and is about to make his way to the cash point but you stop him in his tracks.

“Katsuki, I don’t need that dresser. I have enough furniture at home.”

Katsuki looks at you like you are the stupidest fucking bitch the world has ever seen and maybe you are but…

“What?”

“Where the fuck do you think you’ll keep your stuff at my place?”

“In my bag?” You ask incredulously. The guy is staring at you two like he’s seen a ghost. Ahh, the public doesn’t know about you two so he’s probably trying his best to decipher what’s going on between you two.

“Yeah, of course just keep a fucking suitcase ready every day. Whatever…” Katsuki scoffs and you swear there is a glint of hurt in his eyes. You really want to hug him. Oh fuck, you really-really want to hug him. You swear he looks like he’s about to cry.

“No, let’s get it.” You mumble with a red face. “I’ll leave the stuff I have with me at yours then. You are right, it’s easier that way, sorry for being dumb.”

Okay, look.

You are not the type to lie to someone for their own sake, but… Katsuki looked so heartbroken you just couldn’t tell him you think it’s a bit too soon for this. Plus, it’s not technically a lie, you do think it’s a smart thing to do and you do plan to stay with him for as long as he lets you so eventually, that dresser will indeed be filled to the brim with your stuff. It’s just a bit too soon. But that’s fine. You’ll freak out about it later.

Apparently, you are not the only one freaking out; the boy with the Dynamight pin flicks his eyes between you two with a constipated face, probably trying his best not to ask all the hundred questions he has all at once. Katsuki looks at the poor boy and sighs dramatically.

“Yes, that’s my woman. Don’t go running your mouth to your buddies about it, I don’t want her face to be plastered all over the the news yet. She’s not just my woman, she’s the number one hero of her country and I want people to know her for her talent and not as the chick by Dynamight’s side. She’s fucking cool and shit. She kicked my ass in a spar before. She could probably break fucking Deku in half. No one can fuck with my woman.”

Is… Katsuki boasting about you right now? Did he actually think about this before you two got together? Oh my god, that’s so thoughtful of him! You have no idea what to say and how to react to this. You kinda want to tackle him on the nearest bed as a thank you, to be absolutely honest.

“You really love her, don’t you.” The boy gawks at the blond, bamboozled.

“Of course I fucking love her.” Katsuki looks back incredulously; he doesn’t understand the whole conversation. “What, am I not allowed to have a partner, or what?” Katsuki yells, but the boy doesn’t waver; he’s clearly used the hero’s outbursts thanks to the countless amount of interviews available on YouTube, so he doesn’t take offense at all.

“No, it’s quite the opposite, Dynamight-san.” He says confidently. “I always admired you but… I thought your view of life is a little bit sad so I was hoping you’ll find someone who’ll change your mind. I admire you even more now. I’m glad you don’t see love as a weakness anymore. I’m just happy to call you my favorite hero, that’s all.” The boy smiles with tears in his eyes. Katsuki has a slight blush on his face, clearly taken aback by all the feelings thrown in his face.

“You wanna have that lanyard signed, fanboy?” He mutters to the boy who yells “YES!” Really loudly and runs over to the till area for a sharpie. Katsuki rolls his eyes with a tiny smile on his face as he signs the lanyard for him and you two make your way to the till point to pay for all your stuff; or at least that’s what you thought the plan was but Katsuki ushers you towards the pet area.

“Oi, fanboy, do you have a big ass bird house in there?”

“A… bird house?”

“Yeah, for my stupid ass pigeon, Steven.” Katsuki yells back, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Dynamight has a pretty girlfriend and a pigeon called Steven. Okay.” He mutters under his nose, clearly traumatized by all the new information.

“Yo, I will force you to sign an NDA if you don’t stop muttering!” Katsuki reprimands.

Ahh, shopping with Katsuki is really tiring but it’s also really fun.

~•💥•~

After a few hours, you stand in front of your new, fancy dresser. That’s all you do. You stand in front of it and stare at it like it has personally offended your mother. To be absolutely honest, you are not ready to actually fill it up with your clothing and make it officially yours.

There are so many thoughts swirling in your head right now; first of all, you still haven’t said thank you for Katsuki being considerate about your future as a hero by keeping your relationship quiet. You genuinely thought Katsuki just hated talking about his personal life and that’s why he haven’t made a single comment about not being single to the media or to anyone at the office. It was actually bothering you a bit, how he ignored you completely every time there was someone around.

You are really thankful for never making a comment about it, because there is a high possibility Katsuki would have just gotten into an argument with you instead of telling you the truth. He might have changed a lot in the last few months but his pride is still in the way when he needs to speak up about his feelings.

Well, he’s not perfect but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“Will you put your shit in that or will you just keep staring at it for the rest of the night?” Katsuki urges but it’s too much too soon; you move away from the dresser to get yourself another coffee you definitely don’t need. “What the fuck?” Katsuki mutters but he leaves you to it… your heart thrashes in your chest for no reason, somehow overwhelmed by all the sudden changes. It’s so fucking stupid, really; you love him and he loves you, you both wanted this to be serious yet here you are, loosing your shit over a fucking dresser. The funniest thing is that you are actually overjoyed by how serious Katsuki is about you two; Katsuki stands by his words and wants this to be serious, he wants you here, in his space, he wants a constant reminder that you are his, even when you aren’t around and that makes you feel so-so giddy and loved… fuck, yes, it’s too soon and it’s so much to take in but you genuinely want the same things as him and now you just made him think you are not on the same wavelength and the fact that he didn’t even come out to see you means he took it to his fucking heart.

Oh fuck…

“Katsuki!” You barge back in into the bedroom after a few minutes just to see him lying in a fetal pose, hidden under the covers like a burrito that was dropped on the floor and got folded by the impact. Your stuff that was splayed out on the bed, ready to be sorted and put into the dresser is back in your bag, neatly folded. Your stomach churns from the sight. “Oh, baby…” You jump on the top of him; now that you are able to look at his face, it looks wet.

“Stop with the fucking pity. Fuck you.” The blond sniffs and hides his face into his pillow. He’s so fucking adorable.

“Katsuki, I love you so fucking much.” You admit sheepishly. “If you think I don’t want this, then you are stupid and don’t tell me that’s not what you are thinking right now because I know you. You are probably spiraling, thinking that I don’t want to fill that dresser because I don’t want you in my life but that’s bullshit.” You mumble into his ears, but Katsuki only tenses at that. “I just got a bit overwhelmed. I’ve never been in a serious relationship before and this is all new and exciting but sometimes all this new stuff just suffocates me but I only needed a few minutes to myself to realize how much I want to be with you and how lucky I am to be able to fill that dresser right now, knowing that I can come back to you any time and I’ll have everything, right there, I’m my second home. Thank you.” You leave a kiss on the blond’s cheek. Katsuki moves his face albeit reluctantly in a silent plea for an actual kiss and you are more than happy to oblige.

Warning: it gets suggestive here. Feel free to skip this last bit, it’s not important! 18+

“Call me baby one more time and I’ll kill you.” Katsuki mutters between two chaste kisses, and you can barely conceal your shit-eating grin.

“Baby.” You whisper into his ear and if the tremble of his body isn’t enough of a sign that he secretly loves it, the barely audible whimper is. “Baby, I love you.”

“Fuck.” Katsuki grumbles as he deepens the kiss, rolling to his back so you can straddle him. “I really hate it. So much. Fuck’s sake, Y/N.” He mutters but the tiny roll of his hips says it otherwise.

Damn, it got really hot in here. Oh, it’s just your ovaries that are on fire, no worries.

“Uhm, we should probably finish packing and go to sleep, my appointment is at 6AM.” You mumble, incapable of leaving your boyfriend’s mouth alone.

“Uhum.” That’s all you get as an answer, topped up with another hip-roll which makes you moan out loud this time. “Fuck’s sake, get off me before I do something stupid.” Katsuki pushes you out of the bed but you manage to manifest a levitation quirk just before your ass hits the floor. “Nice save.” Katsuki laughs, clearly happy that you are able to take a little bit of roughness.

“Anything for your amusement.” You wink at the hero whose mind certainly goes to the other things you might be capable of doing with a quirk. Cheeky.

“Shut up.”

… next chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Yes, Katsuki got so excited about that bloody dresser that he completely forgot about the food and the park. Bad Katsuki. I’m surprised he didn’t forget about his own bookshelf to be honest. 😂😂😂😂

- So I was today years old when I realized that there is a difference between blonde and blond. So I’m really sorry for using the wrong one this whole time. You should’ve told me though! 😂

- There might be a bigger delay with the next chapter as my rota for next week is absolute fucked up + I have plans on my day offs as well but I’ll do my best.

- Also! The next chapter will probably end with NSFW but I think I’ll post it in a separate post and leave a link for it by the end of the SFW chapter. So if the chapter feels short it will be because some it is NSFW. Sorry about that and I hope this works for everyone who’s uncomfortable with that kind of content.

- I hope you guys are having a great day! I got a care package from home; my mom sent me my favorite handmade cookies and I’m so happy I could cry. Also got a training Katsuki funko 😭 I’m blessed.

TL:

@sixxze @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @hanatsuki-hime @cloroxisadelectabletreat @cheesenmax @coffeent @smolsleepybat @therealpotatobish @qardasngan @canarystwin @unofficialmuilover @nanamomo1 @mikestuffffs @p4ndawrites @yao-ai @porusuniverse

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x self insert #bakugo x you #shenanigansbypurplepotato #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #soft katsuki

109 notes · View notes

wonwoonlight · 2 years

Text

there’s not a single star in the sky | xu minghao & kim mingyu

➝ Minghao x Reader / Mingyu x Reader // not a love triangle

➝ soulmate!au // angst // somewhat slowburn // fluff in between? // a journey of acceptance and moving on

➝ total word count: 12k

➝ notes, warnings: my sorry attempt of an angst <//3, it doesn't end badly i promise, curses, food, mentions of death, OC is trying to hold back her tears for like.. 80% of the fic, probably some grammatical errors and typos, not beta-ed D: i purposefully write some stuff vaguely. that's it, tell me if there's more!

➝ summary: he’s your soulmate. so why did the universe also decide he’s not the one you’re going to spend your forever with?

or, alternatively:

Minghao was there to fill the space Mingyu left behind; but you'd never expected to what extent he was meant to do it for.

➝ A/N: it's late and i didn't mean this to be your bday fic but.. happy bday hao!! i'll shut up and say more at the end. pls enjoy and tell me what you thought!!

여기 이 세상이 아름다운 건 the reason why this word is beautiful

그대가 머문 흔적들 때문에 아마 is probably because it has traces of you [Jo Sungmo - Do You Know]

When you first met Minghao, he was there to be your roommate.

It's been months since Mingyu left, almost a year, really, and as much as it still hurts and the thought wells up tears in your eyes, Jeonghan is right when he said it's time you need to pick up the pieces broken by the love of your life.

–the first step being moving out of the place you had bought together with him. Saying it hurts is starting to get repetitive at this point, but it really does and you have no idea how many times you’ve broken down crying the more you pack, your eyes red beyond measure and your chest physically aches that it’s hard to breathe.

The apartment is practically empty except for the furniture, nothing inside screams you or Mingyu anymore except for one single photograph and it sends you into a spiral of sadness that you can’t comprehend how to handle. Your eyes wander to the empty wall on top of the TV, already rid of photographs Mingyu had taken and decided to frame because “angel, this is a masterpiece!” like he didn’t say it everytime he decided to frame more pictures and hang them on the walls (mostly of you both together).

You close your eyes and exhale a deep breath at the memories, hating the way your lips still tremble at the thought of him, then gently wipe the tears lining up your eyes before they turn into yet another waterfall.

There’s only one big picture left on the wall, a photograph of a daffodil field you both had gone to two years ago and is easily the most beautiful place you’ve ever stepped your feet on. You insisted that the picture stays though Jeonghan said it’d be better to take everything down. But as much as you know his memories hurt you, you don’t want to erase him just because you’re struggling; that picture is the one Mingyu loved the most and you think it’s only right to let it be.

So it can guard your home once you’re no longer there.

Kim Mingyu is still the most wonderful thing that has ever happened in your life and you want to keep his memories with you no matter what.

“When is your cousin moving in?” Jeonghan asks as you put the last of your belongings. Most of your stuff is already in your new place, and while you couldn’t bear to sell the apartment, you heard from your mom that your cousin is looking for a place in your area because she’s starting university soon; so she’s going to move in and rent your place at least until she finishes her study.

You’re not that close with her, but know her well enough to know that she’s nice and isn’t the type to mess around. Which is good, because if you’re close with her then you’d be finding reasons to visit just to be in the apartment. This way, you know your place will be in good hands and, for now, that’s the only thing you can ask for.

“In two weeks. She’ll start moving her stuff next week though.” It’s weird to be talking about someone else living in a place where your love bloomed, but it’s really for the best and you understand that it’s getting more unhealthy for you if you continue your way of living the way you do. Even one year is already pushing it.

“You’re still moving tomorrow though, right?” your best friend nudges you, and you nod as you try to shrug the weight lingering on your chest. Your silence concerns him despite your nod, so Jeonghan takes your hand and squeezes it lightly. “Do you want me to stay the night?”

“It’s okay, Han.” You smile weakly. As much as you want Jeonghan to hold you through the night because you know you’ll be crying, you want to spend your last night here by yourself. You want to cry one last time so you can let everything go. You want to bask in Mingyu’s memories, in his fading scent, and in the place where the love you shared with him grew the most.

And as you cry yourself to sleep that night in your empty bedroom, screaming for Mingyu’s name into your pillow again and again like it’d bring him back to you, you think you can feel his arms holding you once again the moment your consciousness gives up, almost like a dream you wish you never wake up from.

Your new roommate is perceptive and you’re not sure yet whether you like it or not.

“You look tired.” He smiles politely, though you can tell that the look in his eyes is closest to what you’d describe as pitiful.

Of course you look pitiful, you woke up with your head pounding due to your excessive crying the night before and you could barely open your eyes because of the very same reason.

“I was going to talk to you about rules and all that but I think that can wait.”

“Thank you,” you say without offering any reason, you don’t owe him any explanations anyway. “I just need some sleep though, can we talk about it later tonight?”

Minghao nods, the smile on his face so warm that your heart would probably skip a beat if not for your current predicament. You wince at the way your heart clenches, Mingyu’s name once again echoing in your head. Feeling heat creeping up against your neck, you reach up to touch the skin behind your ear, a habit you always do, something Mingyu teased you about since the time you went on your first date together.

Ah, fuck. You really should stop yourself from thinking about him too much.

“It must’ve been hard moving all that stuff. Have a good rest,” Minghao ushers you before you can say anything, which you thankfully nod at, and you immediately bolt to your new room before you embarrassingly cry in front of him out of nowhere.

You don’t need to know Minghao hears your cry because you didn’t close the door properly, his concerned eyes rooted to the floor as he closes the door for you, the soft click barely even a noise upon your heart silenced sobs.

It’s later that night that he sees you again, already fresh in new clothes and looking comparably better than earlier though your puffy eyes are a dead giveawa. Minghao has never been one to pry, but his heart is made to care for others and he’s trying hard not to ask if you’re okay, to pretend like the sound of you crying didn’t tug something in his heart.

Xu Minghao is born to care for those around him but he’s not sure why you crying hurts him this much when you’re practically a stranger renting the available room in his house.

“Want to order something?” He forces himself to say, wondering if he’s crossing any line; do you even have any intention to befriend him? He’s still not sure why you’re moving into his place, the most he has heard from you was you’re simply looking for a new environment, and Junhui, a mutual friend of the both of you, has only told him that you’re going through a lot so he might want to be careful overall.

When Minghao asks if there’s anything he should know out of concern, the older guy has simply said it’s not his story to tell and reminds him to be mindful if you’re ever visibly struggling in front of him.

“I was wondering what to eat for dinner. You can join me if you want. It’s okay if you don’t, though.”

Unexpectedly, you send a soft smile his way with a nod, then make your way to sit on the single sofa next to him and hug the cushion on your lap. “Sure. What’s good around here?”

“Mmm. What do you feel like eating?” He turns to look at you, only to find your fingers playing with the skin near your ear as you purse your lips in thought. It’s the first time he has the chance to actually look at you, and he scolds himself for being a teenager when it pops into his mind how soft your skin looks followed by the question of how it’d feel under his touch.

“Anything’s fine except for pasta.”

“You don’t like pasta?”

“I do. I think they’re too heavy if we eat them now though.”

Minghao hums in agreement, but you say he can order whatever he feels like eating because you can eat just about anything as long as it’s not too creamy at the moment. “Surprise me,” you tell him, your voice a little too cheerful for someone who was crying a few hours ago. He tries to get it off his mind though, because it’s none of his business and you’re not even friends yet at this point.

He doesn’t even know why it bothers him that much. Perhaps he’s been thinking about Junhui’s words too much, be careful and be mindful. As someone who’s used to catering to other’s feelings, Minghao finds it hard to stay still when he knows someone near him is struggling. It’s obvious from your body language though; the way you’re internally exhausted but are trying your best to look okay.

Maybe moving to his place is your first step to overcoming whatever you’re going through. Whatever it is, Minghao decides that’s where he should stop assuming and reminds himself once again that it’s none of his business.

“So,” he starts after ordering food. He figures he should at least talk about the house rules if there’s no other topic at hand. “I’m not very strict about rules, to be honest. Some of the rules I always tell people are just basic ones like: let me know if you’re going to have friends around, though I’m not too comfortable with anyone staying overnight, so just make sure to ask me first before you let anyone stay over; don’t be too loud; and let’s clean after ourselves? These apply to the both of us though, so I promise I’ll stand by them too.”

“Yeah, sure.” You nod in agreement. He’s right. Those are basic rules, he’s just asking you to have manners and be aware that you’re living with someone else. But you can tell from his first impression alone that Minghao is the kinda person that’s considerate and proper. He didn’t ask for anything too personal when he first met you to talk about your possible coliving situation, and it was easy to tell that Minghao was just looking for someone that’s…, well, also proper.

He was just the right amount of friendly. You didn’t talk with him for that long that day, but you could tell that you both passed each other’s vibe check and you were glad when Minghao called a week later to say you’re welcome to move in anytime the month after if you’re still looking for a place to stay.

“I don’t have that many friends so you don’t have to worry.”

He chuckles at that, glad that you’re comfortable enough to make a joke. "We'll get along just fine then."

The silence after that is a bit awkward, though it's not enough to make anyone uncomfortable. You wonder if you're simply imagining Minghao's extra careful words and gestures or if he’s simply that type of person to begin with.

He does seem the type to be certain with his lines.

"You're home a lot, then?" He tries to stay on the housing topic, a very safe topic that hopefully wouldn't cross any line.

“Yeah. I really mostly go out when my friends invite me or if I want to take a walk, else I’m basically holed up in my room.” You shrug then return the question, though from the few times you dropped by the house when you moved your things over you can already tell that Minghao is about the same.

“Mmm. I enjoy both my time inside and outside,” he purses his lips in thoughts, a tilt of his head accompanying his words. “Depends on the day, I think. Sometimes I actively try to find places to try out, sometimes I’m happy to be in my studio and paint for the whole day.”

“You paint?” Your tone is more excited than you intend it to be, though it really makes sense because you notice there are a lot of paintings throughout the living room. And now you wonder if those are his own paintings, which Minghao shyly nods to, the sheepish smile on his face growing the more you sing praises to his talent. “Wow. I’ve always wanted to paint, you know? But my hands are not made for art so…”

“That’s nonsense.” He frowns like your sentence personally offends him, his words bringing tears to your eyes before you even realize. “Art is for everyone. Have you actually tried painting?”

‘Angel, that is not a painting!’ Mingyu laughed with the entirety of his chest, not minding your pout even the tiniest bit. ‘That’s just doodles. Gosh, you’re so cute.’

‘I told you I didn’t want to do this!’ you whined as you tried to get away from his embrace. Seriously, this guy was a good 20cm taller than you and he liked to just bend down and bury his face onto your neck like it’s not physically uncomfortable for him to do so. ‘I’m not going to let you plan another date.’

Mingyu simply grinned and hugged you tighter at that, knowing full well that you didn’t mean any of it.

‘Art is for everyone though,’ he whispered with a laugh, his lips upon your cheek. ‘You did great. We should try watercoloring sometimes.’

“Did… I say something wrong?” Minghao’s worried voice brings you back to the present, and you blink back the tears before they actually fall down, your voice caught in your throat.

“No.” You clear your throat then excuse yourself to the bathroom in hope Minghao doesn’t notice anything. From the way he simply nods, you hope that’s the case, but the gentle eyes full of concern following you until the bathroom door closes certainly implies otherwise.

Minghao brushes the mark near his collarbone, its jet black color reminding him of things he’d rather not remember anymore. It used to be so vibrant with color, then they bleed out at once one day, turning into such a dark black it contrasts against his skin.

There’s something else Junhui said that has been bothering him, something that he thinks is the main reason why he’s more attentive to you than anything.

‘I can’t say much. But if there’s anyone who understands her struggle, it might be you. Just… don’t push her, yeah?’

He’s not sure how close you are exactly with Junhui. But if the older guy is able to say that, he supposes you’re either closer than he’s assumed, or you’re related in more ways that he could imagine. You did find out he had an available room from Junhui.

It doesn’t feel right to go through yours or Junhui’s social media just for the sake of it. But, from what he remembers, you definitely don’t appear enough on Junhui’s account for you to be in his close circle. Plus, if you’re actually close, the older guy would’ve probably brought you to hang out with him a long time ago; Junhui likes to blend all of his friends, after all. So you’re probably a friend of a friend, or there’s a situation that Junhui happens to know.

Whatever it is, it bothers him. Are you struggling like he was?

Minghao bites his lip and grazes his soulmate mark again, why is he talking like he’s over it now? As much as he’s coping, said that he’s okay now because that's all he’s managed to be, he’s still far from acceptance.

He’s still far from making peace with it.

His eyes flicker to you again as you return and sit back down on the sofa. You force a perfect smile, one that would fool anyone into thinking you’re actually fine. Not him though, because if there’s anything he recognizes, it’s the emptiness in your eyes despite the way they turn into crescents. He’s practiced the same exact smile way too many times not to recognize it on others.

If there’s anything Minghao knows, it’s the eyes of people who are hurting.

And if there’s anything else he understands, it’s that they don’t always want to talk about it. That everyone hangs on differently and he doesn’t know you well enough to know how you cope and how you hurt.

So he does what he usually do: offer comfort in the subtlest way possible by change the topic.

“But, then again, it’s not for everyone,” he shrugs almost nonchalantly. If anyone else is in the room, he’s sure they would notice the way he’s blatantly staring at you in worry. But, fortunately for Minghao, there’s no one and you’re too busy calming yourself down to notice. “What do you do in your spare time?”

“Actually,” you shake your head like you’ve made a resolve, like you didn’t even hear his question. Your voice falters a little as you say your next words, but Minghao listens attentively as he pretends not to notice the quiver in your gaze. “I would like to try painting. I did it a long time ago but… maybe it’s time to try doing it again.”

“You sure?” he questions, something weird stirring in his heart at how determined you look. It’s most likely the romantic side in him; he’s always liked seeing people doing their best. There’s just something so beautiful about people who try, and he supposes it’s the fact that he knows the look in your eyes, recognizes a similar kind of pain reflected in them, then knowing that you’re doing your best to be okay again.

It’s almost like he’s seeing himself a few months back (has it really not been a year since he’s started to learn how to accept?), and while his heart warms at the fact that you’re trying, it makes him wonder if this was how people felt when they saw him before.

“Yeah. I think it’d be fun,” you say vaguely, knowing that your tone itself sounds unsure. Still, you’re thankful that Minghao doesn’t say anything about it as he nods and says that he’d send you the address of a cafe that allows their customers to draw on a paper and turn the result into a keyring; that he thinks that would be casual enough for you to try and have fun because an actual painting studio might feel suffocating if you’re not into it

You falter at the mention of the familiar cafe, one that you haven’t gone to but remember Mingyu had mentioned before. You can probably still find its name and address somewhere on your phone, because Mingyu had insisted you make a list of places you should go together to, though you gave up updating it along the way

“It’s the one with a sloth mascot, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. Have you been?” Minghao bites his lip at the slight tremble of your lip, did he say something wrong again?

“No, actually.” You force a small smile, one that looks sad, if anything, and Minghao’s heart is so close to breaking that it’s almost stupid. Why is he so emotional today? You’re just his new roommate, for God’s sake. “But I… I’ve heard of it, yeah.”

A heavy silence envelopes the room after that; you, deep in your mind, and Minghao, unsure what to say. Considering Junhui’s words and the way he sees himself in you, he dares to jump into conclusion and wonders what could possibly happen to your soulmate for you to be this way; to be constantly in and out of your memory in the span of thirty minutes he’s been talking with you.

Did they leave you like his soulmate did? He winces at the thought of her, the urge to reach for his mark makes his fingers ball into fists. But he waves it away and, thankfully, the bell rings indicating the arrival of your food.

Fortunately, the food is enough distraction for you two. You hum in delight once Minghao opens the packaging of the food, the smell filling the room immediately that your stomach growls a little. You’re both more hungry than you thought also, because the food is gone faster than the time it takes to arrive, and the both of you wish each other good night after cleaning up.

You’re not exactly sleepy, but you’re mentally drained and you’re afraid at how many times you almost poured your struggle to Minghao. You don’t like crying in front of anyone but Jeonghan, don’t like the feeling of anyone looking at you in pity or even concern. You really don’t.

But there’s something about Xu Minghao that makes you feel okay about being vulnerable; something about him that makes you want to open your heart and serve all its content on a platter for him to see. Or perhaps you’re just more emotional because you’ve officially moved out of your place and it’s your first day in your new home.

You hope that’s really the case.

Because the first scenario scares you a little too much.

You don’t want to feel that way.

So you spend your night talking with Jeonghan until you fall asleep, talking about nothing and everything so you wouldn’t think of Mingyu or how easy it is to be off guard in front of Minghao.

You tell Jeonghan you want to go to the sloth cafe and he offers to come with you, his voice wavering when you mention you want to try painting.

You dream of Mingyu in front of an easel that night, painting a field of yellow flowers with a smile on his face and the stars in his eyes.

“Oh, are you going somewhere?” Minghao asks when he sees you all dressed up on the sofa, though the way you’re slumped against it makes him doubt his question. “Or did you just come back?”

You scrunch your nose at the question, then sit up and hug the cushion against your chest. “I meant to go to the sloth cafe today. But Jeonghan is suddenly called for a work emergency, so…”

The words come out before he thinks it thoroughly, and Minghao almost hits himself in the head once they escape his lips. “I can go with you if you want?”

Unexpectedly, your face lights up as your eyes meet his, making him a little taken aback at the enthusiasm.

You really do want to go there, but the thought of going there by yourself scares you a little but you know that if you don’t go now when you’ve made up your mind, you’ll push it back over and over again until eventually you decide you’d just not go.

“Will you, really?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind going with me.” Minghao shrugs. It’s too late to back out and he’s glad if he could help you one way or another. It’s been quite some time since he visited that cafe and he doesn’t have anything to do, anyway. At your nod, he asks again. “When do you want to go?”

“I’m free the whole day, if you don’t mind going today…” You trail off, feeling a little awkward if you’re being completely honest. It’s been two weeks since you’ve moved in, and while you’ve passed the awkward phase, you’re still not there yet when it comes to favors.

“Let me change real quick then.” He definitely didn’t expect you to say yes when he offered, but now that you’ve asked him… Might as well, right?

The ride to the cafe isn’t as awkward as you suppose it would be, the radio filling in the silence between the two of you when you’re not talking. Minghao asks if you have anything in mind you want to draw already, and you say you actually have no idea, that you want to see if there are any easy examples you can follow because you’re not gifted enough to draw anything by yourself.

“What about you?”

“Hmm… Any requests?”

You laugh at this, and then hum to yourself to see if there’s anything you’d like to see. For a second, you wonder if you’re crossing the line by asking him to draw for you in a way, but if it’s Minghao himself who asks, it should be okay, right?

“Flowers?” Your voice falters as you think of the last dream you have of Mingyu. Yellow flowers, wasn’t it?

You hear his smile before you see it, and when you turn to him curiously, Minghao offers you a nod and asks again if you have any flowers you prefer. But you don’t really know your flowers, so you tell him you want to see anything vibrant, that it’s up to him whatever flower exactly.

“Vibrant, huh?” You wonder if you imagined the slight curt in his tone, but Minghao nods once again and says he’ll see what he can do.

“You don’t have to, though!” You say, suddenly conscious that you’re making him draw something for you.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know what to draw, anyway.” He grins to assure you, but you can tell that there’s something going on inside his head that you don’t dare to ask.

“Alright… But don’t feel bad if you want to draw something else, okay?” You manage to say, hoping that you don’t sound like you’re putting a distance between the two of you. Minghao changes the topic from then, and it’s not long until you find yourself arriving at the cafe.

It’s weird, what you’re feeling. You’re both afraid and excited, as art has always been something that you associate with Mingyu. You never do it with anyone else, or even by yourself, for that matter. Mingyu was the only reason you’re even interested in it, and you’re pretty sure you would never even try if it wasn’t for him.

And now you’re here. About to go to a cafe where you can draw at, a cafe you had promised Mingyu you’d go together with…

And now you’re here.

With someone else.

“Let’s go?” Minghao’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, something you’re incredibly thankful for because you’re just about to spiral into a hurricane of emotion otherwise.

Half an hour later, you find yourself sitting side by side with Minghao as the busy sound of the cafe fills the silence between you two. You straighten your back as you exhale a deep breath, the sound of it makes Minghao chuckle from beside you.

“What flower is that?” You glance at his drawing, intrigued by the amount of details Minghao pours into it despite not having any reference whatsoever. He’s drawing by memory, you assume, as you can’t see his phone anywhere near him, and now that you really look at his drawing, you think you’ve seen the flower before.

Minghao pauses before he answers you, his gaze fixated on the paper in front of him. “Forsythia.”

You hum as you take out your phone, looking up the flower to see pictures of them. It’s when you quietly mutter to yourself that Minghao turns to you, a small smile on his face as he sees you admire the flowers.

“You know them?”

You shake your head, then close your phone and return to the paper in front of you. You’ve drawn nothing but the night sky, poorly drawn hills, and a few street lamps along the street. It’s nowhere near good drawing, but at least you can tell for sure that those objects are identifiable and that’s enough win for you.

Like going here trying to draw.

Like going here without shedding a tear even though your lips trembled when you step into the cafe.

That’s enough win for now.

“Can I ask something?” his voice brings you out of your thoughts, and when you nod, his voice is hesitant despite your okay. “Why… is it so dark?”

“What is?”

“Your drawing.”

Huh. Is it?

“Is there any reason you’re not drawing the moon or stars?”

You blink at the question, then look again at the night sky you’ve been drawing the past thirty minutes. The constellation mark behind your ear suddenly stings a little; have you come to hate astronomical objects so much that you end up drawing nothing but the sky without even realizing?

“It just… didn’t occur to me.” You offer him a small smile, your colored pencil hovering upon the night sky. “I can’t draw them now though, can I?”

He hums as he skims your drawing, then his eyes glance at the pack of colored pencils next to you.

“Yeah. It’d be hard to draw the moon because you’ve colored most of the night sky.” He nods and smiles your way, one that you return with a tilt of your head. “It’s okay though. It’s still pretty as it is. Some nights we can’t see the stars and the moon anyway. Doesn’t really matter, right?”

…Doesn’t really matter, huh? You bite your lip as you ponder over his words, your mark feels like it’s tingling behind your ear.

“Can I ask something too?” You say after some time, eyes still focused on the flower he’s drawing.

“Sure.”

“I notice there are a lot of flowers in your paintings back home. Is there a reason why you like painting flowers so much?” His movement pauses at your question, and, for a second, you wonder if you’re intruding. But Minghao answers before you can retract your question, his hand moves again to fill in the color in the petal.

“It’s my soulmate mark.” His tone is much too nonchalant for such a topic, but as much as Minghao can tell you’re hurting by the look of your eyes, you can also tell he’s hiding by the tightness in his voice.

It’s very subtle, but from your point of view, it can’t be anymore obvious that Minghao is also struggling, presumably about something along the same line as you. Soulmate isn’t a sensitive topic for most people, but now that you’ve seen him this way, you can tell at once that you both share the same reluctance towards the issue.

At least it’s also clear that he’s coping far better than you are. Whatever’s happened between him and his soulmate, you hope it’s not as bad as what befell you.

“You wouldn’t know which one though,” he jokes to divert the topic. It’s more for your sake than it is for him, you feel like. He probably knows you’re not sure what to comment on that.

“I’m sure they’re pretty either way.” You comment vaguely, suddenly itching to touch the constellation behind your ear. You hesitate before you continue, unsure if it’s okay to bring it up again, but you also feel bad and you let your feelings override yourself for once. “I’m sorry I made you draw flowers.”

Minghao completely stops at that, and even though you’re not sure what you were expecting, you surely didn’t expect amusement clouding his face when you meet his gaze.

“Why are you sorry though?”

“Just felt like I needed to apologize.” You shrug, your voice gets gradually smaller as you continue. “Seems like it’s personal to you.”

“It’s fine. Like you said, I do paint a lot of flowers.” His smile is genuine, and you’re glad that he really does sound amused if anything.

Your conversation shifts from there, the two of you swift through light-hearted topics as you finish your drawings. You watch as the staff turn your drawing into an acrylic key ring, a happy smile on your face as you look at the result in your hand.

It’s definitely much better than you expected, and you think it’s good that you went with Minghao because, had it been Jeonghan, you would’ve cried thinking about Mingyu the whole time. You’re glad you went with your roommate, someone between a stranger and a friend, someone that you need to be careful with but close enough that it’s not uncomfortable.

“Yours is so pretty…” You mutter in fascination as you peek at Minghao’s, happy to take the key ring from him when he asks if you want to look closely.

“You can take it.” He says with the entirety of his heart, the grin on his face painted with pride. It’s one thing to have people sing praises to his work, but it’s another story altogether when he sees someone like you who looks at his creation like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. When you ask if he’s sure you can have it like it doesn’t make sense for him to just give it away, he chuckles and nods. “You look like you’d appreciate it. That’s good enough for me.”

“Thank you!” You clutch the keyring between your palms, telling him you’d take good care of it. “I’d offer you mine but…”

“I’ll take it.” He offers you his palm, and then chuckles some more when you ask again if he’s sure about his choice. “You doubt me a lot, huh?”

“It’s just… Mine isn’t as pretty though.” You scrunch your nose as you hand him your result. Yes, it’s better than you expected, but still…

“I saw how much effort you put into that.” He begins, his thumb caressing your keyring. “And I did say it looks pretty, no? I wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.”

Whispering a small thank you, Minghao almost laughs at how shy you look at his compliment. He looks at the keyring again, a picture of street lamps beneath the night sky. Then his mind pictures your focused frown when you were drawing them, and then to the conversation he had with you almost two weeks ago about this very cafe; how you were holding back tears and how you had reacted when he brought up the cafe.

And now here you are, talking animatedly about how the experience has been much more fun than you expected it to be. And even though he did catch you spacing out from time to time, he notices how determined you are from the beginning. Determined to do what, he can only guess.

He thinks he’ll think of you now everytime he looks at the night sky.

He gazes at the keyring yet again, and then at you next to him.

He thinks he has never seen an effort so beautiful.

Mingyu loved seeing you with your hair up; a pony tail, a bun, anything that let him see your whole face and didn’t cover your soulmate mark if only a little. The location of your soulmate mark doesn’t really allow you a lot of hairstyles that won’t cover it, but if you have your hair up, you’d at least be able to see half of the constellation that stops just a little below your ear.

That said, you wear your hair down most of the time after he’s left, having developed a habit of hiding the black constellation scattered there. The most you’d do to your hair is to tie half of it, which doesn't happen a lot.

“I have a question.” Minghao says as he pours your empty glass of wine once again. Minghao was chilling by himself when you returned from the convenience store, and when you saw the wine bottle on the coffee table, you had been quick to ask if you could join his little routine.

“Shoot.” Undeniably, you’ve gotten closer with him the past few months. You hadn’t expected to find a friend when you first moved in, but Minghao clicks with you in ways you haven’t really clicked with others that you can easily say he’s one of your close friends now.

It’s different, what you have with him.

Jeonghan is your voice of reason as much as he is the devil’s advocate; he’d push and push and push but he also knows when to pull you back when necessary. He cares for you like a best friend and an older brother, having his own way to change between the two roles accordingly.

You’re not the closest with Lisa. She’s not the kind of friend you’d look for first when you need someone to talk to, but you only have good memories with her since high school and it’s always laughter filling your cheeks everytime you meet up with her. You trust her when it comes to it, and she’s a token of happy memories you keep in your life.

Mingyu… Mingyu is–was your soulmate. He understood you without you saying anything, he knew when to leave you alone and when to coax you into telling him what’s bothering you. He spoiled you like there’s no tomorrow, listened when your rambling didn’t make any sense, and held you in his arms on nights you didn’t want to talk to anyone. He’s loud with his affection, never hesitated to show you his love even though he knew you’re never insecure when it came to that.

But Minghao… he observes and hypothesizes. He’s calculated and he’s silent with his concern. He doesn’t always ask when he thinks something might be up, simply leaves you be and you’d find a cup of iced chocolate or an ice cream with a note that lets you know they belong to you the next day. He pretends he doesn’t know you’re crying even though you’re sure you look like a mess, he’d just ask if you want to eat something or if he should just order online.

You don’t have a lot of friends, but from the few that you have, Minghao is the most like you.

And now that you think about it, you somehow gravitate towards those much different that you are; people who are loud in the best way possible. Which is why your friendship with Minghao feels different in ways that you can’t really describe.

“Why do you never tie your hair?” You have expected Minghao to ask this question sooner, if you’re being honest, as you’re sure that he’s noticed this since before. You’ve caught him eyeing your long hair from time to time, mostly when you two are out and it’s hot outside while you stubbornly let your hair down for the sake of covering your ear.

“Does it bother you?” You ask while sipping on your wine. It’s your fourth glass already, and even though you’re not usually a fan of alcohol, there would be days like this when you just feel like letting loose and crave for some.

Minghao shakes his head and changes the song playing in the background, finding something softer than the jazz instrument he played earlier. It’s another lazy Saturday night for the two of you, and between liking to stay at home and your somewhat similar personality, it’s really not surprising how easy it was to be close to Minghao in the span of five months.

How could you not when the two of you almost always spend your days together, even more your weekends? Jeonghan would join you from time to time, or he’d drag you out and there would be days when Minghao also tags along.

So, really, it’s safe to say you’re with Xu Minghao almost 70% of the time except for the time when you’re at work.

“Not really. Just wondering because it looks hot to go around like that all the time.”

You hum as you contemplate your next words. You could’ve just brushed it off like you always do when people ask, but a part of you has finally arrived at a place where it wants to let him know about Mingyu even only a little.

After all, there are days when you share your pain with him. None of you really talk about it, but you’d both vaguely mention about sad romance from time to time; enough for the two of you to be almost sure that, yes, there’s something wrong about the soulmate situations upon you both.

Perhaps it’s the alcohol in your system. Or perhaps it’s the dream you had of Mingyu last night, his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on.

That’s probably why you feel like drinking today.

While moving in with Minghao proves to be a good step towards moving, it doesn’t mean you’ve stopped crying when Mingyu appears in your dreams, which no longer happens quite often. There are still days when you’d read his old messages and stare at old pictures. When you’d open his Instagram account that’s no longer active and scroll through his aesthetically arranged feed.

It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, but you still get choked up for obvious reasons.

At least he no longer resides in your mind on a daily basis, though the thought also weighs like a boulder upon your heart.

You… want to move on from him, but you also don’t.

The amount of love you hold for Mingyu is more than you think possible, it’s overwhelming and it’s a burden at times. You didn’t think you could love someone like you did Mingyu, soulmate or not.

You don’t mind though. Even though the love is heavy and you don’t think you can ever love anyone–anything as much as you love Mingyu, you don’t mind and you still want to do it.

You still want to do it now even if he’s no longer with you. Even if his scent has completely faded from every single belonging of his that you bring with you to your new place.

The fact that you’re actually getting used to a life without him hurts.

It hurts almost as much as the day you lost him.

It hurts because you’re close to forgetting how he even sounded if not for the hoard of videos of him in your phone.

Aren’t you supposed to be together forever? To hold each other every night and spend the rest of your life basking in each other’s warmth?

Aren’t you supposed to be soulmates? What the fuck went up there that decided you’re not going to have a happy ending with your soulmate?

You want to be okay without him.

You don't want to be okay without him.

Minghao’s concerned voice brings you out of your trance, and it’s only when you taste something salty in your lips that you realize you’ve been crying.

For all the time Minghao pretends he’s never noticed you crying, this can’t be one of them. Not when your tears come out of nowhere when you were spacing out for a few seconds upon his question. And when he asks in a hushed whisper whether you want him to hold you, you don’t even answer as you dive straight to his embrace, your tears refusing to stop now that you’re in someone’s arms.

He doesn’t seem to mind though and, for some reason, the way his arms gently circle around you makes you cry even harder. It’s such a contrast with Mingyu’s tight embrace, he always made sure to hug you hard, something to remind you that he’s there and you have him with you.

Minghao's hold is careful but sure, the way he hugs you is almost ticklish, like you’d break if he hugs you just a little too tight. Except for the few times you fell asleep on his shoulder upon movie nights, this is the first time you’ve ever been this physically close with Minghao.

You end up telling a gist of Mingyu that night, tying up your hair to show him your soulmate mark. If Minghao’s surprised at its color, he doesn’t show it, and it’s you who gasp in shock when he tugs the neckline of his shirt to show you his own blackened soulmate mark near his collarbone.

IMinghao starts talking first, as he figures it might be easier for you if you know he’s been through something along the same line. He never really likes talking about his soulmate, doesn’t really have any reason to do so either. But looking at you like this, it’s the urge to comfort you that overrides his usual reluctance.

If his pain can be anything other than pain… if it can even help someone in some way, perhaps it’d be better to share the story he’s been holding to himself.

“She left me for someone else.” You want to wipe the weak smile off his face, want to tell him that he doesn’t have to act like he’s okay because you can’t even begin to imagine the amount of pain Minghao went through. “Said she found someone better and she doesn’t believe in soulmates. That we’re too different and believed the fact that we’re soulmates just proved that fate is nothing but stupid games.”

You know whatever words you offer him wouldn’t be enough.

You know.

You know because nothing anyone says would be enough to comfort you.

So you share him your pain, show him that he’s not alone and you know how it feels to be left behind.

The story you tell him is a very oversimplified version of the whole thing, that your soulmate is no longer with you and it’s still hard even though you’re coping. Though you do tell him that you did move into his house due to the same person.

Minghao’s gaze doesn’t falter as you tell him a very small part of your story, just enough to know you’re both hurting in the same way. That you’ve both lost the people who're supposed to be your destiny regardless of the reasons why. He doesn’t hesitate when he wipes your tears with his thumb, the look in his eyes is anything but pity.

Your lips still tremble despite your tears stopping, making it hard for you to continue talking even if you’re not sure how much you’re going to tell Minghao that night. But in a moment of weakness, your gaze falls to his lips the same time his eyes fall to yours. And when your eyes find each other a second later, you have no idea who makes the first move and how your lips end up upon his.

The kiss you share with him is soft; your lips upon his over and over again, your palms firmly planted on his shoulders as his stays on your waist. You have no idea either how long the kiss lasts for, but the kiss is sad as much as it is comforting, your fingers balling into fists as you grasp his shirt to get yourself together.

You wonder if Minghao can also taste the salty tears falling from your eyes upon his lips.

It’s him who pulls away first, and he doesn’t give you a chance to meet his eyes as he pushes you into the juncture of his neck and kisses the top of your head.

For the first time, Mingyu’s smile is sad when he appears in your dream.

He’s trying to tell you something, but there’s no sound coming out of his lips and your eyes are too blurry to make sense of his words. You’ve missed him so much, and you hate that he looks concerned when it’s been so long since you’ve dreamed of him.

You can still feel the fluttering warmth of Mingyu’s lips on your forehead when you wake up, only to find Minghao holding you to his chest as you both lay on the couch, his eyes closed and his protective arms firm around your figure.

You're not avoiding Minghao.

You've honestly just been plagued by the last dream you had of Mingyu that you’ve been a little dysfunctional for the past week. You haven’t got the chance to tell Jeonghan about the dream nor what went down that night, and you plan on telling him tonight in the comfort of your bedroom just in case you’d be crying again.

You’ve texted Minghao Jeonghan might be sleeping over that night, though he might also go home if he suddenly decides otherwise. You stare at your phone as you bite your lip, hating how you can even tell how awkward you two are even over texts.

[14:22] Hao, is it ok if Jeonghan stays the night? He might also suddenly decide to go home tho!!! I promise we’ll stay quiet

[18:45] Minghao 🍀: Sorry, I thought I replied already.

[18:46] Minghao 🍀: And sure. You know I don’t mind Jeonghan.

[18:46] Minghao 🍀: Thanks for the heads up.

Minghao doesn’t usually answer late, and it’s worrying you a little that it takes him almost four long hours to answer you. Isn’t he working from home today?

You really need to get back to your senses and fix whatever weird situation between you and your roommate. Though, truthfully, you know it’s just you making it weird because Minghao has been acting like usual. The smile he gave you when you both woke up in each other’s arms still haunts you among other things.

And while it’s true you’re not avoiding him, it’s also true you don’t know how to face him after that day.

“When’s Jeonghan picking you up?” Lisa snaps you out of your trance, sipping the last of her coffee. It’s been quite some time since you met up with her, and her text has come right when you need a happy distraction so you’re more than happy to accept the invitation and meet her after work, which is why your hang out with Jeonghan has been pushed accordingly.

It’s the weekend tomorrow, anyway.

“In a bit.” As usual, spending time with Lisa means having a good time. Usually, it’s followed by a good night sleep on your part, but as much as you love spending time with her, the thought of Mingyu, Minghao, and wanting to talk to Jeonghan about them clouds your mind to the point where you’re sure you won’t be having a good night sleep tonight. “He’s stuck in traffic.”

It’s about fifteen minutes later that Jeonghan comes in, and he sits down next to you to talk with Lisa for a bit before you part ways with her. You listen to him talk about work as he drives, offering your thoughts on the matters that you think would help.

When he pulls into Minghao's driveways you stop him from getting off the car, ripping the bandaid with one go because you don’t know how to do it otherwise.

“Me and Minghao kissed last week.”

Jeonghan looks at you wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the right thing to say.

“Just telling you now because I… well, there’s a chance Minghao might catch it if I tell you later.”

He stares at you in what you’d describe as worry, but before you can ask him to explain, he grabs your hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. “But you’re okay?”

“Somewhat.” You squeeze his hand back. “I’ll tell you everything after dinner.”

Surprisingly, Junhui’s voice greets you the moment you open the door. He’s speaking Chinese, your mind registers, and if his tone indicates anything, he’s upset and he’s nagging. You don’t see Minghao anywhere though, and you find Junhui by himself in the kitchen, hanging up on whoever’s on the other line before he slips his phone back into his pocket.

“Jun?”

“Oh. Hi. Want some soup?” He says like it’s normal that he’s here cooking without the owner of the house.

“What are you doing?”

“Minghao’s down with a high fever.” He shakes his head as he stirs the soup in front of him. “He’s sleeping now.”

Minghao’s sick? Is that why you didn’t see him at all this morning? Why didn’t he tell you, though? You could’ve brought him something had you known.

“Can I… talk to you for a bit?” Junhui asks, his eyes flickering to Jeonghan behind you. The older guy seems to get the message, quickly leaving the kitchen and into the living room before you even answer. “Something happened between you and Hao, huh?”

For all it’s worth, you know Junhui has always been a protective friend. You’ve never been particularly close with him, but he’s close with Mingyu and you know what kinda person Junhui is courtesy of Mingyu’s words. He’s playful and he’s caring. Mingyu used to say Junhui isn’t the kind of person he would want to be enemies with, that he’s glad he’s friends with the older guy.

So to have him look at you with a piercing gaze, it’s hard for you not to deflate under his eyes.

“You don’t need to tell me anything. He didn’t either.” He starts, and then hesitates before he continues. “I… How are you?”

Your eyes prickle with tears at his question, because you know he’s not just asking about you in general. It’s there even if he doesn’t say it outright: how are you coping without Mingyu?

You try your best to blink the tears back, but fail when Junhui reaches out and pats your head. Your palm blocks the sob out of your mouth, and it’s when Junhui says his next words that your sobs turn into pathetic whimpers.

“Don’t think about it too much, okay? I know it’s hard without him. But if there’s anyone who can take care of you like he did… I’m sure he would’ve wanted you to take that chance.”

It’s hard to listen to him and not cry. Not when you know how close Junhui was with Mingyu. They’re not the bestest of friends, but were still close enough to spend nights drinking with each other to talk about life and the problems that came within.

Between all of Mingyu’s friends, you knew Junhui was one of the people he respected most.

“Mingyu used to say you always think about him before anything.” His voice trembles as he says it, and that’s when you realize you’ve only spoken about Mingyu once with him after the whole thing. As much as you’re hurting, you know they are too, to certain points. “But I think… I think it’s okay not to think of him first now. You don’t need to forget him. But try to think of yourself too, alright?”

You nod, not being able to say anything to that. While you haven’t actually dwelled on what you’re feeling for Minghao, it’s true that you’ve always stopped yourself from even thinking about it because of Mingyu. He’d come into your mind everytime Minghao does, and while it helps a little to know that at least you’ve both lost your soulmates, it’s still hard for you to think that you’d be replacing Mingyu somehow.

You don’t want to replace Mingyu.

You don’t want Minghao to be a rebound.

But is he, really?

“I’m not saying you have to decide now whether you want to give Minghao a try or not. But… you deserve another chance at happiness, okay? And whether it's with Minghao or not, I hope you'll take it when the chance presents itself to you.” He whispers softly.

It’d be a lie if you say you’ve never tried to think about Minghao in that light. Because you have, you have since that day you went to the cafe and drew with him. But Mingyu clouds your mind, and a part of you always feels like you’re betraying him and his memories if you even think about being with someone else.

“I promise Mingyu wouldn’t want you to hold yourself back from a chance of another happiness.” You cry harder at this, palm still covering your mouth to stop your sob from echoing throughout the house. “I know it’s still hard to accept that Mingyu is no longer here. I know, trust me, I do. I lost my little brother too that day, and if it’s hard for me as a friend, I can only imagine how hard it is for you who lost your soulmate. But you can’t trap yourself in his memories forever, right?”

It’s then that you cry, cry, and cry.

It’s one thing to think to yourself that you’ve lost him, that he’s not with you anymore and there’s nothing you can do about it. But it’s another to hear it from someone else’s mouth right in front of your face.

It reminds you of that night a year and a half ago in the hospital, the words ringing in your head over and over again until it’s the only thing that echoes in your mind.

Mingyu is gone.

He’s gone and he’s not coming back to you.

He can’t come back to you.

No matter how much you’ve cried into your pillow and cursed at the gods to bring him back to you, it’s nothing but a futile attempt because he’s not here.

He’s no longer in this world and your heart still aches everytime you think about the fact that he’s dead and you can’t see him anymore.

What’s the use of having a soulmate if he’s going to leave you first out of nowhere?

What’s the use of having a soulmate when you couldn’t even do anything to protect him from the accident that took his life?

What the fuck is the use of having a soulmate if you’re not going to end up together with him for the rest of your life?

It’s then that Jeonghan rushes to the kitchen, immediately kneeling beside you on the floor because you don’t have any energy to even stand on your feet at this point. You don't even realize you're wailing, your palm doing nothing to help stopping your broken cry.

Jeonghan can't hear anything but your sobs since earlier, but he knows your talk with Junhui is long overdue, which is why he’s been holding himself back from barging in even though he’s been worried. But how can he stay still if he's heard you let out a loud cry followed by a thud?

Junhui follows and kneels next to you, patting your head once again as he wipes your tears to no avail.

“Think about it… okay?”

You’re spacing out as you lean on Jeonghan’s shoulder when Junhui knocks on your door. You’ve spent the last hour telling your best friend everything, from the way you’ve been suppressing your thoughts about Minghao to the talk with Junhui earlier. In a true Jeonghan style, he has offered you a piece of his mind followed by saying he agrees with Junhui though he doesn't fail to remind you to take your time thinking about it.

“Do you mind taking care of Minghao or do you want me to stay over?” It’s almost ten in the evening, you look at the clock on your wall, and you suppose Junhui is trying to figure out if he should go home now or not. “He gets a little needy when he’s sick but doesn’t say anything.”

You look at Jeonghan for some reason, and when he offers you nothing but raised eyebrows, you turn to Junhui and say you’d take care of Minghao for him.

“You sure?” He asks one more time. “I can just stay over if you don’t want to.”

Junhui chooses those words for a reason. He didn’t ask if you can do it, he makes sure to let you know that it’s okay if you don’t want to.

But you do. As much as you’re conflicted, you can’t deny the worry bubbling in your chest the moment you heard Minghao’s down with fever to the point where it's hard for him to even get out of bed.

“I’ll take care of him.” You say with a determined nod, your arm squeezing Jeonghan’s for support.

“Then I’ll trust you with him.” You’re probably looking too much into it. You have no idea if Minghao has confided Junhui in what’s transpired between the two of you, but his words seem to mean more to you regardless of his real intention.

“I’ll take you home then.” Jeonghan surprises you both, patting your cheek before he gently lets go of you. “I don’t think it’s me you need to be with tonight.”

It’s silent once the two went home, and you’re left on your own in the living room. You try to think about your talk with the two men, but your head pounds a little from all the crying. Your eyes are probably puffy too, though at least they’re not red and you probably just need to drink some water to help your headache.

You close your eyes and exhale as you lean your head back against the sofa head. Has it really been one and a half year since you lost Mingyu?

It's funny, grieving. You never really get over it, and as much as you claim you're okay and you've accepted that he's no longer with you, you know you'd never entirely accept that deep down in your heart.

Some days Mingyu doesn't cross your mind at all. Some days you can suddenly cry in between conversations because his name rings across your head for no apparent reason.

Time seems to be too fast and too slow when it comes to memories of Mingyu. You never really thought about finding a new romance before, if only because you live in a world where soulmates exist and Mingyu took your heart with him the moment he left this world.

It must be some sort of twisted fate too for you to find Minghao, another shattered soul whose soulmate left him by choice. As much as it hurt you to lose Mingyu the way you did, you couldn’t imagine how Minghao picked up the pieces of his broken heart because the person who’s supposed to be his forever left him for selfish reasons.

You can’t imagine how his heart can still be as pure as it is with the pain it went through.

While you don’t know yet what exactly went down, what you know for sure is how beautiful of a person Minghao is. He probably knows you’re struggling since the beginning. He’s been considerate in more ways than you could’ve imagined, in his own soft, subtle way to the point where you didn’t realize he’s taking care of you.

It took you quite some time to realize, but it makes sense because you can recognize the pain that flashes through his eyes too from time to time. As two owners of broken fate, it’s not surprising that you recognize one another.

The sound of the door creaking brings you back from your head, and you see Minghao looking a little lost when the door opens, probably wondering why the house is dark and quiet.

“Why are you out of bed?” You scold him softly as you make your way to him. You usher him back to bed, but Minghao insists his body hurts from laying down too much and he needs to stretch a little.

So you make him sit on the sofa instead, which he whines at because it’s not that different, but his heart softens at your concerned whine so he decides entertaining you shouldn’t be too bad even if he feels like walking around the house.

“Drink some water.” You hand him his usual mug, then plops beside him as your palm automatically reaches for his forehead, cheek, and then neck. Minghao doesn’t say anything as he stares at you, though he shivers at your touch because your palm is cold when it meets his skin. “Your fever has gone down, I think."

“Were you worried?” his voice asks softly. Almost hopeful, even. None of you bothers to turn on the lights, though the light peeking from the kitchen helps just enough for you two to see each other albeit dimly.

You think Minghao might be a little delirious, but Junhui did say Minghao gets needy when he’s sick, so you do the least you can do and decide to throw away all of your thoughts for the night. What matters right now is that he’s sick and you want to take care of him.

“I was. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” It’s funny the way you’re both talking like it’s a secret. Your soft voices barely heard throughout the house even though it’s loud enough just for the two of you.

Minghao shrugs, not offering you any explanation. But you see it in his eyes, in the way he hesitates and shakes his head. He probably didn’t think it was okay to tell you.

“Tell me next time, okay? Though it would be better if you don’t get sick again.”

He hums and it’s silent after that. Minghao turns to the window, looking at the dark night outside. “Did Junhui go home?”

“Yeah. I told him I’d take care of you.”

“Did you?” His voice gets even softer when he says this, both hopeful and afraid. But before you can say anything, he cuts you off and asks again. “And Jeonghan?”

“Took Junhui home.” You pause before you continue. Is it a good time to bring it up now? Would it be better to do it when you’re both awake and well? Listen to your heart, okay? It’s okay to put your guard down sometimes. Jeonghan’s words from earlier ring in your head. “Said that it’s not him I need to be with tonight.”

If he’s surprised, Minghao doesn’t show it. But his stare seems to pierce through the dark and you can’t find it in you to look away. Mingyu appears once again in your mind, but you try your best to suppress the thought before you find yourself deep into it.

“Is there anyone you need to be with tonight?”

“Mmh. Maybe.” You try to be nonchalant, very conscious of the way your heart is beating loudly against your chest. You look out the window before you start talking again, a pensive look on your face as you contemplate your words. “It’s weirdly dark tonight, huh?”

Minghao follows your sight and nods, waiting for you to say more. You gather your hair and move them to your right shoulder, and from where he’s at, he can see the black stars peeking behind your left ear.

“It’s Cassiopeia, my mark.” You start, your eyes still locked on the night sky. “I tried looking them up once, but I suppose I’m not smart enough to actually understand the story. Mingyu did though, and he’d pop up a quiz from time to time to see if there’s anything I retain from all the time he babbled about our identical marks.”

He doesn’t know where you’re going with this, but his hand finds yours and he’s glad you don’t pull away, simply holds his hand tighter as if you’re looking for something to keep you going. His heart cracks at your weak smile, but he knows you have more to say and he’s more than willing to listen.

“I ended up liking them though; the celestial objects. The moon, the stars, planets, everything that’s up there in the sky. I found fascination in them and I’d find myself buying stuff with their patterns.”

Minghao can’t see you clearly because of the dark, but he imagines your eyes are watering up by the slight tremble of your voice.

“And then it stopped when Mingyu died. I don’t hate them, but it hurts to see them and… if you remember my drawing those months ago, I suppose that’s why my drawing was so dark even if I did it unconsciously.”

You pause to take a breath, your hand tightens around Minghao’s. “I think he took all the stars with him the night he left. That selfish jerk.”

His heart clenches painfully at your weak chuckle, at the way your hand reaches up to wipe your own tears, and at the way you take a deep breath in determination.

“But… But it’s okay even if we can’t see the stars, right?”

Minghao gapes at his own words from that day you drew together, words that he said without much thought but seems to hit you in ways that he would never imagine. He tightens his grip on you, and then pulls you to his shoulder before taking his turn to speak.

“You probably don’t recognize it. But forsythia is my soulmate mark.” He says as he caresses your knuckle, his mind taking him back to the exact day you referred to just seconds ago. “I knew it took a lot for you to be there. And even though I didn’t know exactly why, I could tell it was hard. But you pulled through and I thought I should do the same. So when you asked me to draw a flower, I knew I had to draw the most beautiful forsythia I could ever draw in my life.”

“I used to hate them, you know?” You can hear him smile even though you’re buried in his shoulder, his arm that has made its way around you pushes you more into himself. “But you saw that drawing like it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. I didn’t think much of it at first, but I saw you carrying around that keyring everyday and it’s… something. I’ve heard a lot of people compliment my works, but I’ve never seen someone appreciate it as much as you do. It wasn’t intentional, but I think you helped me get through it without even meaning to.”

You pull away to look him in the eyes, and for someone who claims you don’t find beauty in stars anymore, you almost want to dive into Minghao’s eyes that seem to twinkle with all the stars Mingyu took with him.

“Do you know what forsythia symbolizes?” You know he’s not expecting you to actually know, so you shake your head and urge him to continue. “Anticipation, apparently. Because they bloom in spring and signal the beginning of one. I’d like to interpret it as the flower of a new beginning.”

You almost cry again at what it implies; at what it can imply not only for him but for the two of you. Is it too early to jump into that? Is it too fast? Weren’t you just crying about Mingyu hours ago?

“We don’t have to figure it out now.” His voice rings through the night, his fingers caress your arm to shield you from whatever’s in the dark of night. “The morning will come eventually even when the night is long, right?”

“Yeah.” You succumb into his embrace as you smile through your tears. But how can you not when Minghao says those words like Mingyu did many nights ago?

“Don’t think about it too much.” He kissed your cheek and hugged you close to his chest, to shut you up more than anything, really. “It’s not like the morning won’t come even if the night is a little too long. Focus on what you have in front of you, instead okay?”

“But what if–”

“No.” He cut you off, his palm covering your mouth as he laughed at your glare. “No what if. Let’s enjoy the night while we’re at it.”

“You sound stupid.” You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance despite the way your heart swelled in affection.

“You love me anyway.” He grinned cheekily, which you laughed at out of embarrassment because if there’s one thing you could never do, it’s to deny your love for him even jokingly.

“Hao?”

“Hm?”

“You’ll hold me through the night, right?”

He smiles like it’s not even a question, his fingers intertwining with yours as if to make a point.

“Yeah.”

“Even if it’s a long one?”

He clasps your hand tighter, his thumb caressing your knuckle.

“Yeah.”

A/N 2: hi!! it's been quite some time since i write anything along this genre. i've always wanted to write soulmate!au and while this isn't exactly heartfluttering like soulmate!au usually is, i hope you enjoyed it one way or another. this fic got longer than i originally planned, but i hope you guys enjoyed it and please do send me your thoughts through anything you're comfortable with. i know it sounds repetitive at this point, but it's truly your feedbacks that keep me goin<3

A/N 3: did any of u guessed gyu di*d btw

permanent taglist: @kyeomjjigae @stantrash171819 @sebongmochi @luveveryonewoo @thinkinboutwonu @kpopjackie @ursweetener @lavenderautumnx @itsveronicaxxx @shuahoshiscoups @sunshinein17 @leechanniee @twogyuu @hoe4wonwoo @h3h3tm0n @noraehey @seokshook @rubyhoons @02psh @just-here-to-read-01 @listxn @janandbeyond @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly

also tagging: @joonsytip

523 notes · View notes

pastafossa · 2 years

Text

“What Was That?” (Haunted House Fic, Matt Murdock x F!Reader)

I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO POST THIS WHOOPS. I had someone send me an ask like a month ago about Matt and Jane dealing with ghosts and the idea was funny so I typed up a little something, meant to drop it on halloween (hrrgh), so I’m a few hours late in my time zone, but not in others! So let’s do this! This Reader is from my long-fic TRT though all you need to know is Reader is psychic and this is set far enough ahead in their timeline that they’re married.

Rating: SFW

Ship: Matt Murdock x f!Reader

Wordcount: 2,488

Warnings: Swearing, references to spiders, ghostly spookiness, though mostly funny. Wanted to see if I could mix a little scary with the haunted house humor.

Matt seen here, questioning what the hell you’ve gotten him into this time.

“—goddamn dumbass, sneaking in here,” you grumbled where you were on your hands and knees, shining your flashlight under the moldering, half-broken bed. “He’s lucky his mom paid me to find his phone even without the thread. Him and his friends probably broke in here to drink.”

“Uh huh,” Matt said slowly. He barely noticed the soft sound of your footsteps behind him, too focused on the corner of the room. “...Right. Drinking.”

“And look, I’m not saying I don’t get the desire to do stupid shit. But at least hold onto your phone.” You rocked back on your knees with a groan, dusting your hands off. “Well, it’s not in here. Next room.”

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Is there… a mannequin in the corner of the room?”

You swung your flashlight around towards the corner he was facing, your brow furrowed as you carefully rose. “No. Why?”

“You don’t see anything?”

“No. Room’s mostly empty other than a bed.”

He’d have agreed with that statement a few minutes ago. While some of the rooms were more furnished than others—all of the furniture being long past its prime, broken and crumbling, faded and coated in dust—most were like this one. As far as he could sense, all that remained in the room was the bed, its covers moth-eaten and ragged, a small end table, cracked down the side and on its last legs… and the ridiculously conspicuous, elongated human shadow standing in the corner, where it had remained for the past five minutes.

He’d been hoping it was a mannequin. A really, really cold mannequin.

The chilled human outline slowly rotated its head clockwise in a half-circle. The movement seemed almost broken, its head moving in staggered intervals, each shift paired with a distant click like the crack of a bone. Only once its mouth reached the twelve o’clock position did it stop.

“I think we should look somewhere else,” he said quickly. “Preferably right now.”

“It’s a spider, isn’t it?” You grimaced, taking a few steps back towards him. “I can handle a lot of them, but not when they get big and hairy.”

He did his best to throw you a casual smile. It would be for the best if you didn’t know what he was sensing. He wasn’t even sure how he’d explain it, in truth. ‘There’s a figure and it’s cold and its face is upside down’ could only result in disbelief. “I just don’t like it here. That’s all. Old houses smell.”

“Fair enough.”

The figure gradually lifted one leg, the motion just as stuttered as the movement of its head had been. Its leg rose further and further until its knee had almost reached its neck, before it took one exaggerated, creeping step towards you both, as if sneaking.

Nope.

Matt grabbed your arm, and you let out a startled grunt as he yanked you back with him, slamming the ancient door shut behind you both.

“What the fuck, Matt?! You could just ask me to leave.”

“Spider,” he said. “It was a really… really big spider.”

Something with long fingernails scratched quietly at the bottom of the door from the other side. Then there was a a faint ‘meow’—not the sound, but the actual word, delivered in the low voice of a large man, the words muffled as if he’d pressed his mouth to the small crack between the top of the door and the frame, all while the nails continued to scratch at the bottom. Which was… fairly unsettling, in about a million different ways, 99% of which Matt didn't feel like considering because even he had sense sometimes. Fortunately, the sounds were also too soft for you to hear.

You raised your brows and glanced at the door, which was still being scratched at.

“It was a spider with hair,” he added quickly. “It hissed. I wouldn’t go back in there.”

“If it was hissing, it was probably a wolf spider. God, those bites hurt.” You shuddered, before turning around. “Alright, maybe I’m glad you yanked me out of there. Let’s keep looking then. Sooner we find the kid’s phone, the sooner we can get out.”

“Sounds good to me.”

'Meow.'

-x-

It was on the ceiling this time.

“I hate places like this,” you mumbled, digging around in the couch cushions of an old sofa that groaned ominously every time you pushed too hard. Matt wasn’t sure whether the noise was actually the furniture or if the couch was instead possessed, but either way, he didn’t tell you about the bloodstain beneath it, or the twisted shape in the basement that sounded like it was licking at the underside of the floor right beneath your feet. “I know I complain about sewer grates, and those are gross, too, but old houses like this? Blergh.”

Matt tilted his head at the shape up on the crumbling ceiling, and it tilted its head back, mirroring him.

“Did you find it?” he asked you, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice.

“Not unless you count some questionably stained quarters, no, but I think maybe—”

The shadow skittered suddenly across the ceiling until it was above you, before slowly extending its head down. It shouldn’t have been able to get all that far, but instead of lurching to a stop, its neck began to elongate like warm taffy, its mouth gaping open like a serpent preparing to swallow its prey.

He only just grabbed your shirt and hauled you back with a grunt as the head swung down where you’d just been standing, thick splatters of ethereal drool dropping to the floorboards with quiet pat-pat noises like rain.

“Matt, Jesus—“

“Another spider,” he said breathlessly, because he loved you and watching a ghost try to swallow you like it was a python and you were an antelope was, to put it mildly, somewhat distressing and adrenaline-inducing. And also disgusting, considering that it had been drooling. “It… fell. Where you were. It was also hissing.”

The eyes on the shadow’s head grew larger, bulging out of its head like overripe grapes, its mouth lolling open until the chin and what he presumed to be a tongue hit the floor with a barely-there splat.

Was it… scowling at him?

“Look, I get that you’re protecting me from spiders, and I’m grateful.” You shot him a look. “But you could just… tell me.”

“The spider had babies on its back. Thousands of them.”

“Right, yup, you’re right, we can hit another room.” This time it was you who dragged him with you, though he was quickly distracted by the stairs in the attic. It sounded like someone was running back and forth, sprinting up and down the steps, though there was no one there that he could sense.

“We should avoid the attic,” he said after a moment. “There’s more wolf spiders on the stairs. They all... they all have babies. I think it might be breeding season.”

“Do I want to know how many spiders there are in this house?”

“Probably not.”

-x-

“It has to be in here somewhere,” you grumbled, picking your way through the kitchen. It didn’t help that dozens of pots and pans had all been arranged in a series of delicately balanced towers, each monument stationed at what seemed like random points around the room. Even the rickety wooden chairs had been gathered and shaped into a pyramid along one side of the room, behind which was a wall oozing a foul smelling substance he didn’t really want to direct his senses towards. “Only room besides the attic we haven’t checked. Can you sense anything? I’m dying here, D. Lend me a hand, as much as I appreciate you listening for spiders.”

The figure that stepped through the far doorway was different than all the others still.

The basic shape of it was human, but that was where the resemblance ended. Its proportions were… wrong, wrong, the hair on the back of Matt’s neck standing on end. It was so tall the top of its broad, wide-brimmed hat scraped against the ceiling, so tall it seemed to have to fold in on itself just to enter the room. Its bony arms hung halfway to its knees, spindly fingers with too many joints curling beneath hands the size of dinner plates. With each step, its legs silently snapped and folded, bent like the limbs of a massive spider, before they shot out again to take another step.

Only once it was fully in the room, a mere ten feet away, did it stop… and watch.

“Matt? You ok?”

‘MaTT? YOu ok? Ok YOU? MaTT?’ It was as if it were trying to mimic you, its voice pitched in an attempt at yours. And yet the shaped syllables were all wrong, the emphasis in the wrong place, discordant as it looped and repeated, all while rotating its head one way and then the other. “You-you-yOU OK? MaTT? SomeWHERE? HeRE someWHERE? Has to bE. Room EMPty, emPTY? roOOm! No-no-nO, M-m-MaTT.’

He let out a low growl, slowly grabbing the back of your shirt and tugging you back with him as the figure snapped its leg up and then stepped closer, swallowing up far too large a gap. “We’re leaving. Now.”

You glanced at him, your eyes darting over the shape of his mouth, reading what little of him you could see with his mask on. He could almost hear the gears in your mind turning, spinning as you glanced around… and then you sighed. “It’s not a spider, is it?”

‘Is iT? Is IT? IS it? SweetHEART MaTT—’

“...No,” he said grimly, his hand still fisted in your shirt.

There was a faint whisper along his skin, one that signaled you’d opened your third eye. Just like that, the figure froze.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, before reaching for a large pan on the kitchen counter.

“I don’t think hitting it with a skillet will work.” He grit his teeth, spreading his legs wider in preparation, though for what, he wasn’t sure. He’d never actually fought a ghost before, but for you, he’d try. He always would, whether it was robbers in alleys or ghosts or geese.

“It scares more of them than you think.” You grunted and then hurled the pan, the rusted iron flying through the ghost’s torso, momentarily shredding its form. The pan struck the far wall, crashing through the rotted drywall as the ghost let out a haunting wail. You jabbed a finger at it, your tone taking on the note you often used on aggressive raccoons who bothered you in alleys. “Shoo! Beat it!”

The wailing only grew louder. Its jaw unhinged and dropped down against its chest, even its teeth howling.

“Oh, spare me the tears. You’re not a banshee. Fuck off!” Another pot flew through the air, this time sailing through its head. The wailing abruptly ceased, the shape jerking as if you’d startled it. “Go on! Get out of here!”

“Wait, sweetheart—”

There was a low hiss, and then it sprinted, the figure racing towards you. He tried to pull you back but you shook him off, tilting your head up just in time for the figure to lurch to a stop, its face a mere inch from yours.

You didn’t blink, narrowing your eyes.

It leaned closer, your hair stirring as it whispered gibberish at you, its mouth moving too quickly for any mortal, loud jabbering like the buzz of insects in Matt’s ears.

“What’s it saying?” you said mildly. “I can see it but I can’t really hear it. Nothing but whispers.”

“I don’t… think it’s saying anything,” he said warily, resisting the urge to step between you and the ghost as it inched closer, a mere half inch now.

Its head snapped in a ninety-degree angle to the right, gaping mouth yawning wide before it jabbered more noise, this time vaguely understandable, to Matt’s ears at least.

It drew in a breath, the room dropping in temperature in a sudden rush, so sudden frost appeared on the windows, before it shrieked in your face.

“Right, I heard that.” You snorted, before jutting your chin up. “You listen. You all have been bothering us all night, and it’s about to stop. You wanna know why?”

‘No, no, nO, why? WhY?’

“It wants to know why.” Matt’s arm wound around you as the cold shadows in the room deepened, shapes and sounds pressing inwards, listening, whispering, hissing. The walls began to shift minutely, oozing behind the crumbling drywall in a way that almost sounded like the wet rasp of diseased lungs, thick with blood and worse.

“Because my husband,” you bared your teeth in a grin, one gleeful and menacing, “is Catholic.”

The house abruptly went still, the figure in front of you letting out a stuttering gust of air that tasted like mold and decay, like peeling wallpaper and rotted clothes.

“And you know what that means,” you continued confidently. “He fucking rolls with his man, the great lamb Jesus. They are quite close, considering how often he goes to confession. As you can imagine, that also makes him close with his priest. Like brothers, or... or a father I guess.”

“This feels blasphemous,” Matt said, amused despite himself.

“Just trust me and roll with it.”

He thought about it, tipping his head one way and then the other before the corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk. “Have I mentioned my mother’s a nun?”

The house shuddered, windows slamming across the house as if in existential horror, as if it had once gone to Catholic school and dealt with nuns itself, and Matt could relate.

“Basically, we can have Father Lantom and my nun-in-law here in thirty seconds to exorcise all your asses.” You threw your arms up and Matt helpfully dodged your hand where you’d almost smacked him in the face. “You want that?”

The glass chandelier above you—which seemed like a poor choice for a kitchen, Matt was fairly certain, though he’d admittedly gone to law school and not the School for Decorating Future Haunted Houses—began to sway and creak, the whole house groaning. Doors slammed, footsteps rang out up and down the stairs, an old radio two floors up beginning to blare a pulse of static. The ghost in front of you reared back, its form striking against the ceiling like a wave of cool shadow about to come down on you both.

“Should you really be antagonizing them?” Matt asked you curiously.

“Just hang on, it’s a process” you told him, before drawing in a deep breath and letting your voice ring out. “Show me the fucking phone and we’ll leave. No priest needed. Or you can fuck with us, and you all don’t get to scare the shit out of drunken teenagers anymore, which I’m sure you like doing. Take your pick.”

Whispering filled the house, swelling in rapid waves, as if the floors began to discuss with the ceiling, who questioned the attic and the cracked windows that were thoughtfully leaking what Matt suspected was more blood, which dripped down to the arguing shadows in one of the upstairs bedrooms who were debating nuns versus being able to scare teenagers for the next fifty years until the house came down and they had to hitchhike to a new one, which was really a lot of effort, but until Uber hit the Great Beyond, it was the best they could do.

It didn’t take long.

Just like that, every hint of activity… abruptly vanished, including the ghost in front of you.

“Thank you,” you said firmly. “Now show me the phone. I know you assholes took it.”

A sullen silence grew in the house.

“Matt, call up Father Lantom and Sister Maggie.”

A pot in the corner fell with a sheepish clang, revealing the phone that had been hidden beneath it.

“Right,” you said quickly, snatching up the phone and taking Matt’s arm. “We should go.”

“I love you,” he said in amusement, as he let you lead him out. “Have I told you that?”

“Yes, and honestly, I’m just glad you’re Catholic. I know I joke about the guilt but that really came in handy.”

“I’m glad my Catholic guilt complex could save the day instead of ruin it for once.”

482 notes · View notes