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heavenhealy · 10 months

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genre: smut, porn with a bit of plot, flatmate!matty x fem!reader, dom!matty x sub!reader

summary: after a bit too much wine at a game night, you worry matty learned things he never would have never wanted to know about his flatmate, but he assures you you aren’t as weird as you think.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: this is smut, please do not read this if you're under 18 or uncomfortable with sexual content!! specific warnings include: swearing, alcohol consumption, they're both a bit self conscious but only briefly, crying, (VERY MINOR) who hurt you troupe bc I'm a whore for it, reader is worried about being kinkshamed/implications she has been in the past, dom/sub dynamics, praise, degradation (consensual), unprotected sex (don't do this), choking, spitting, hair pulling, spanking, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), aftercare, fluff, matty being a little softie after sex

a/n: I haven't written anything in a while so I apologize if this is rusty! I also do not proof read so there may be some mistakes, and as always please let me know if I missed a warning and I will add it on. Happy reading! :)

"Never have I ever...." Your friend trails off, swirling the contents of her wine glass absently in her hand. Her living room is packed but all the attention is on her as she speaks. A sudden blast of nostalgia from college collides into you: you sitting in your much smaller common room with her and your group of classmates, drunk off cheap beer as you swap horror stories about professors and dating. She had always been the most gripping and magnetic person you knew. Someone who could pull all of your darkest, deepest secrets out of the folds of your mind before you even realized.

Or maybe it was the expensive wine that she always had stocked now that you were adults.

"Oh! Never have I ever made someone choke me during sex." A few flickers of laughter go up around the room, and you watch as some couples proudly throw back gulps of their drinks. Your mind whirrs, suddenly self conscious at the idea of someone seeing you take a drink, but you do it anyway. There's so many people here, and so many of them are drunk that it's unlikely anyone would remember anyway. You take a hearty gulp and feel the pleasant buzz settle in your veins, whether from the alcohol or the quiet liberation of admitting one of your darkest desires like this.

Her question seems to have inspired a new theme of the game, as the next person in line slurs, "never have I ever been spit on and liked it." Less people offer up their admittance than on the last round, and your face flushes as you try to subtly bring your glass to your mouth. Your eyes dart around, drunkenness making you feel sleepy. The room was mostly occupied by your coworkers and friends of friends, all people that you could elect to never see again if you had to, and a wash of relief has you taking another sip of wine- this one just for enjoyment.

"Never have I ever let someone I'm hooking up with come inside me." Even you have to laugh at the absurdly sexual way the game began to go, but you jovially drain the last of your wine, throwing your head back lavishly as a round of jeers go up in the circle around the coffee table.

Your head is back upright, warm and swimming with intoxication as you giggle in spite of yourself. Remnants of wine stick on your lips and you lick them, trying to pry off the last of the sweet taste. Your body feels so heavy and so light at the same time: flying and sinking with intoxication and the inherent comfort that comes with it. Your eyes flutter open, mostly because you're afraid you really could fall asleep right on the couch if you keep them shut. As soon as the visual world comes back to you, you see him.

Matty, your generous flatmate who always accompanies you to these parties when he has the time, standing just behind the seated circle of people in the game who you now notice are beginning to disperse. The sight of him is sobering. How long had he been standing there? The rest of these people were inconsequential to the rest of your life, but Matty? You share a home with him, cook each other dinner, and swap each others' laundry, and pick up medicine when the other is sick.

Nerves curl in your stomach. If he had seen all of that, he definitely would think you're a freak, a sexual deviant. Maybe he would want to terminate his lease and you would be forced to find a new place. You suddenly feel dizzy as he approaches.

Handsome as ever, he pushes a hand through his already wild curls and plops onto the couch beside you. He hums thoughtfully, examining your face closely; the flush of your cheeks, the unhinged look you're sure is present in your eyes. As hard as you try, your intoxicated mind can't comprehend the emotions showing on his own face.

About all you can muster to think is "handsomehandsomehandsome" as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth before prying the empty wine glass from your hand.

"We've got to get going," he says to someone as you stand with him, slightly wobbly in your platformed sneakers. You wave at your friend and manage to support yourself long enough to make it out of her front door. The night air is thick and sticky with humidity but Matty keeps an arm around your shoulders as you go down the stairs, silently ensuring you don't wipe out and skin your knee again.

"Thanks," you finally speak once you're onto the familiar even sidewalk back to your flat. He just hums, dark eyes sparkling under the street lamps dotted along the path.

"You didn't drink?" You ask, suddenly realizing that he seemed remarkably steady tonight.

"'course I did," he wiggles his flask from his jean pocket and waves it in front of you, "I'm just not a lightweight." You sigh, throwing your arms up dramatically. He's already giggling before you even begin to defend yourself.

"I didn't get drunk off of the one glass, Matthew! I actually had three tonight. And I didn't even get sleepy till the last one."

"Sleepy? Is that the word for it?" His voice is clipped as you make the final turn to your street, the looming complex you call home only yards away. Your brow furrows at his tone.

"What are you implying?" You stop, arms crossed defensively over your chest. He deflates, visibly dropping at your change in demeanor as if it wasn't him who caused it.

"Seriously, Y/N? We're almost home." You don't budge and he relents. "Sorry, that was rude of me. I know you're sleepy, let's go. Please? Forget I said anything." You sigh, appreciating the candid look of relief on his face when you start to walk again, all the way until you're into the safety of your bed.

---

"Oh, fuck," you grimace upon waking up. You have no idea what time it is, but sunlight is streaming in through the crack in your curtains, and you can faintly hear the sounds of the tv down the hallway. You know that your hair is tangled, and it's a miracle that you even bothered to change out of your clothes before bed.

You grasp for your phone and sit up, cursing the throbbing headache that always comes with getting wine drunk. You start picking up pieces of the night in your memory like loose change: a selfie here, a bump into a guy from accounting there, a handful of pretzels tossed into your mouth by your friend, the game of never have I ever-oh.

Shit. You swallow hard, listening for the noises downstairs, and the confirming shuffle of Matty's footsteps makes you freeze. Shit, how much had he heard? You meant to ask about it last night but lacked the cognitive ability for such a thing.

Your stomach bottoms out as you think, practicing different ways to approach it in your head.

Hey, did you hear about all of my weird sex stuff last night?

Hey buddy, learned anything about me recently that changed your view of me as a person and now you want to move out?

Hi Matty, thanks for coming with me to the party and getting us home, did you see me admit to liking being spit on?

Each idea was worse than the last, and a shiver of fear runs up your neck. You had always expected to have to deal with some differences in this living agreement, and had before, but never about something like this. Okay, maybe you could just avoid him until you came up with a good way to ask? Or maybe it would never come up at all? Perhaps he really hadn't been in the room the whole time. And worse case scenario, you have time to think about it. You could crawl right back into bed and pretend to sleep all day and-

"Y/N? You're up, right?" Matty's voice sounds from right outside the door, strong and clear. You consider ignoring him but he nudges on the door and it swings open just a bit, revealing him clutching onto a bakery to go box. He smiles bright when he sees you upright and takes a step into your room.

"Brought you a cinnamon roll,” he smiles the small, earnest smile that you don’t even think he realizes he does, and your heart melts. Surely this is a sign off goodwill.

You thank him and take the box, immediately flipping the lip open and staring down at the pastry. Your stomach rumbles at the scent so you dig in, flakes of dough falling off and back into the box as you eat. Matty stays silently in your doorway until you vaguely gesture at your bed, inviting him to sit as you chew.

He perched himself at the foot of your bed: hair messy under the hood of his favorite old sweatshirt and his hands tucked endearingly under his thighs, as if he’s waiting for something.

You finish your bite and raise an eyebrow at him, hoping that he voices whatever he wants or needs from you. Not that you didn’t love just spending time together or the random act of kindness, but faint alarm bells were still ringing at the possibility of what he learned last night. Neither of you were prudes: you’d had your fair amount of conversations about hook ups throughout your years as friends, but it still felt like a delicate line to cross.

“‘S good?” He asks, voice stunted as if he had to swallow down his nerves before he spoke. “Are you feeling okay? Not too hungover?” His eyebrows crinkle cutely as he asks, eyes roaming your face as if to make sure you’re telling the truth.

You nod your assurance. “Fine, I was mostly just hungry but you fixed that.” He echoes the grin you produce and your heart flutters. He looks so painfully domestic like this, in his comfy clothes and making sure you feel okay. Butterflies swarm in your stomach as you recall the care he took -always takes- to get you home safely.

“Good. You were...pretty blasted." You cringe, placing your head in your hands. The heat of your cheeks is strong and burning into the palms of your hands. Fear strikes down your spine, a fuzzy feeling of panic filling your mind. The question dances on the tip of your tongue.

"Hey." His fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging gently at it until you relent. The warmth of his touch lulls you a bit, but you can still feel the tears rimming your eyes. He coos, the sound a soothing balm on your heart.

"What's got you so upset? You're more than allowed to get drunk from time to time, love. I'm no saint myself." The pad of his thumb swipes gently over the vein in your arm.

"I-" one hot tear escapes you, rolling down the side of your nose. "How much did you see?" Your voice barely holds: wobbly and unsure yet you somehow find the courage to look at him: staring deep into his eyes. He looks back just as unflinchingly, studying your eyes as if he was trying to memorize their exact curvature.

His mouth opens, then closes into a frown, and a dark wave of anxiety creeps through your chest. He knows. He saw it all, and you know Matty well enough to know that he only hesitates with you when he's trying to find the right words to soften the blow. Like the time you had made horrendous tasting pasta and he pushed it around the plate until you finally asked for his honesty. He releases his hold on your wrist as you tug it away harshly, scooting further up your bed until you hit the headboard with your back.

"Sorry, I'm sorry about- if you think I'm weird and you want to leave or not live here anymore, or you don't want me to ever talk to you again-" your voice wavers and a rush of tears spill forth despite how hard you will them to stop. The idea of him never speaking to you again you makes you choke on a sob, but you can't dull the voices in your mind.

"Now why the fuck would you think that?" His voice snaps you out of your blubbering. His pretty features are marred into a scowl so deep that you gasp.

"Tell me, Y/N, why would you think that? I would never, ever-" his features shift, eyes softening. "Who made you think that way about yourself?" You try to ignore the undercurrent of anger in the question but it oddly sets you alight to hear how much he cares about this. That maybe even if he doesn't agree with your desires, he's not going to alienate you because of them.

Your tears have dried onto your cheeks, and you can feel the uneven breaths of anxiety begin to wash away as he shuffles closer until your knees touch. It still feels as if your brain is full of cotton, unable to process or produce anything meaningful to the conversation.

"I don't mind if you don't tell me who made you feel that way, but I'll be damned if I let you go on feeling' weird about it. Or alone about it. Cause you're not." You nod along listlessly as you often do when he rambles on, and with the mix of emotions rushing through you it takes you a moment to understand him. Matty traces a lazy pattern over your knee cap, eyes glued to your face as you catch up.

"Oh," it stumbles out of you before you can check yourself. "So you, like," your brain short circuits as he flashes you a dazzling smile.

"I do."

"You don't think I'm gross?" A spark of hope settles in your stomach, whether from the knowledge, or Matty's proximity, or both you aren't sure.

He licks his lips, runs his tongue over his teeth in a way that makes your heart lurch. His curls shimmy around his face as he shakes his head no, hand stilling on your knee.

"Actually quite the opposite." His lopsided grin makes you gasp, and his hand slides up the length of your leg until it's resting on the top of your thigh. He sits up onto his knees, imposing over you even on with his pajamas still on. "More surprised..." his eyes search your face, finding only awe, "happy, thrilled, elated...who would have thought my sweet little angel would be so..." he clicks his tongue, mocking as he pretends to think. Your heart rate quickens as arousal shoots through you. "Fucking dirty." He tilts his head as if speaking to a child, eyes sparkling with what you can only assume is lust.

Your mouth feels dry as your entire face and neck flush red.

"I-I, well, uhm." You gulp and he places a hand delicately on your face. You lean into the touch, no longer finding it in you to be ashamed in front of him.

"You what? Are a dirty little thing who gets off on being choked and spit on?" You nod fervently and he chuckles, winding his fingers into the hair at the base of your neck. "Gonna need some words from this pretty mouth or we aren't doing anything."

"Yes, yes! I am, Matty. C-can you please?" He tugs at your hair, sending your line of sight upwards until all you can see are his eyes and mop of curls.

"Please ruin you? Make you forget about whatever fucker shamed you for what gets you off?" All thoughts outside of Matty leave you as you whine your affirmation. The anticipation is enough to make you squirm against his hold, hot pin pricks of pleasure sparking as he pulls against your hair.

"No running now that I've got you." He smiles sinfully before pushing forward for a kiss, molding his lips against your own with ferocity that you had only imagined he would use. No matter how many times you had fantasized about kissing him you never would have expected it to feel this perfect.

He tastes like coffee and the faint staleness of his last cigarette; something so iconically Matty that it makes you want to cry. He devours you, thrusting his tongue into your mouth and holding steady on your hair to keep you exactly in place for him. Arousal roars inside of you, underwear already slicking at the show of dominance just the kiss has given you.

"Need you." You mumble it into the kiss, unable to push down your thoughts any longer. Matty relents, chest heaving just as much as your own.

"Need you," you try again, clearer this time, tugging at the strings of his hoodie. It's gone in an instant, his lean tattooed torso exposed for your viewing pleasure. Matty's hands are instantly fisting into the fabric of your old sleep shirt, stripping it as soon as you gasp out a yes. He eyeballs your tits and immediately groans, deep and guttural in a way you've never heard before. "Prettiest fuckin' girl. Look at you." The tenderness makes your heart swell as he tenderly cups your breasts in both hands, pinching at your nipples just enough to make you breathless. He places a line of kisses down your sternum and then follows the same path with a swipe of his tongue.

Shuddering, you latch onto his back and dig in with your nails, hoping to leave him with a little gift of his own. The movement presses him against you, his face buried in your stomach as he continues the sinful path of his tongue down to the elastic band of your shorts. He licks under it, being careful not to actually touch you anywhere you truly wanted him.

"Mmph, Matty, please-please please!" You moan and shiver, wriggling under his weight as he keeps you pinned down with one arm over your mid section.

He nips playfully at the skin of your stomach, "Impatient little slut, huh? Just got started on you and you're already lookin' for more." He abandons your skin completely, taking his warmth with you. A whine grumbles in your chest at the loss, but it dies in the air as you watch him shuck off his sweatpants and underwear in one go.

You can't tear your eyes away from the sight of his cock: something you'd imagined but never figured you would be lucky enough to see in person. Desire strikes through you as he settles against the bed, his lean thighs on display as he kneels on the bed.

"Can I suck your cock?" The question jumps out of you and Matty stills, seemingly shocked at your boldness. He cocks his head, biceps flexing when he wraps a hand around himself. Your mouth practically waters as he pumps himself slowly.

"Of course you can," he licks his lips as he settles into your crumpled bedsheets, spreading his legs to give you ample room to work. You spring into action, eager to repay all of the attention he's given you.

There's no time to waste once his cock is in your mouth. Your eyes water at the intrusion but you can't deny the way it makes your pussy flutter to feel so full of him. Matty gasps, lacing his fingers back through your sweaty hair and leading you further down, pressing your face into the skin of his pelvis.

A gag ripples through you and Matty groans, loosening his grip just enough that it's clear you could escape if you wished. But you don't, and you won't, as you work through the reflex with hot tears streaking down your face. Matty's breathy gasps only encourage you as you wiggle your tongue along the bottom of his cock as you suck: saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth and dripping into a sticky mess at the base of him.

"So fuckin' messy and hot, spitting all over me cause you're so desperate, is that it? Can't do anything but be stupid and drool all over my cock?" You moan at his words, bobbing your head vigorously both to show you agree with him and encourage him to say more, the nasty words flipping all the right switches in your brain.

His hips stutter up into your mouth and he huffs, pulling you off of him in painfully slow increments. You whine at the loss: throat raw and scratchy as you watch his cock shine under the light.

"Lay down," his voice is clipped and you're silently thrilled to note the shake as evidence that he was feeling just as fucked out as you.

You follow his instruction, flipping easily onto your back. He stills at the foot of your bed as you sprawl in front of him, legs parted in invitation. His chest heaves as he crowds overtop of you, heated skin against skin as he presses the length of his body onto your own. The fullness of his weight against you makes you feel fuzzy and you go lax under him, bucking your hips upwards in seek of friction over your clit.

Matty hums, his reddened lips forming into a mocking pout. "Prettiest baby ever but just so desperate," he places a kiss on your forehead and your heart flutters: eyes watering at the sweet gesture.

He catches your gaze, carefully inspecting the shine in your eyes.

"I'm okay," you voice before he can even ask, running your fingers over his jaw as you grin up at him. "Just happy." A little sly grin spreads on his lips and you can't help but return one, a giddy feeling of happiness spreading through your bones. It only makes you more ravenous for him and you whine, pushing your hips up against his own again as you attach yourself to his neck, biting a hickey into the skin just under his ear. A long moan falls from him as you work your mouth against him and your mind short circuits, in disbelief that you finally had him like this.

"Fucking quit with the hips before I explode," Matty growls, pulling away from the stimulation of your movement. You still immediately, the steel in his voice making you pliant. Apparently pleased with your behavior, Matty simply sits back, trailing his sinfully long fingers between your legs. You gasp at finally being touched, head pushing back into your pillows as Matty circles a finger around your hole, pushing in slowly as you widen your legs to allow him more access.

"Pretty little pussy, think you can handle another one?" You know he's teasing you, as he was already working another finger in alongside the first, stretching you open. The burn is deeply satisfying, liquid pleasure seeping through you as he works you open, thrumming his thumb against your clit.

"Matty, please?" You tug at the hand unoccupied with fingering you. His eyes squint in confusion at your request and you sigh, pulling his hand toward the base of your neck. His hand on your pussy stills as his mind finally catches up.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're fuckin' perfect, want me to choke you? Wanna have my hand around your neck while I fuck you stupid?." You nod dumbly, already feeling like you're on cloud nine. He moves the fastest you'd ever seen him, abandoning his work on your pussy for a threatening grip on one hip. You watch hungrily as he lines himself up with your pussy, eyes locked onto the image of his intrusion. The fullness of his cock inside of you made you keen, chest heaving as he pushes fully inside of you.

It had been a very long time since you'd been this full, and the fact that Matty was the one filling you made it even more addicting. The sheer size of his cock was enough to make you dizzy, and even more so once he finally began to move. A stream of obscenities spill out of you and Matty tsks, falling back into this dominant persona as he narrows his eyes at you, fingers dancing at the base of your neck. You swallow with harsh anticipation.

"Do I need to shut you up?" You nod eagerly, desperate to feel the strength of his hand closing around your neck. "What a dirty little girl, wantin' me to choke you when I'm already buried inside of you." His voice deepens with a groan while you plead him with your eyes, pussy throbbing around his cock at his words. His thrusts falter for just a moment as he finally relents, tightening his hold on your neck until you feel the perfect level of pressure that makes you feel perfectly floaty, nodding at him to continue his thrusts against you.

Emblazoned by the sight of his hand around your neck, Matty's hips snap into you with renewed vigor that has you rocking against the pillow, legs locked around his back. The slick sound of your pussy around him fills the room, mingling with the strangled moans that slip from both of you.

Matty pants above you, the punishing pace making your eyes roll to the back of your head. It's almost embarrassing how easily he works you up, and almost even more embarrassing how quick you are to hang your mouth open, mind blanked by the pleasure as you take everything he has to give you. He loosens his grip on your neck slightly and you whine petulantly.

"Relax, pretty. Not done with ya, hold on." Thankfully the movement of his hips doesn't even stutter as he moves his hand upwards, over the cleft of your chin before tracing the pads of his first two fingers over your bottom lip, pulling on the flesh until you open your mouth again. He smiles and lust clouds your senses as you watch his eyes crinkle.

"There's something else you want, isn't there? Something else that makes this pretty pussy all wet?" Your eyes widen, heart jumping into your throat as one of your most common wet dreams comes to life right in front of you. You try to swallow but his fingers in your mouth impede you, the tip of your tongue running over the digits.

"Wan' you to spit in my mouth," you make the sentence out with impressive clarity, especially as Matty's thrusts speed up at the confession, a deep, sustained moan rumbling out of his chest.

He slips his fingers from your mouth and immediately puts them between your bodies to thrum over your clit, slick with your own spit as they make contact. A shock runs through you, exciting every vein in your body with the whisper of your oncoming release. Despite his renewed vigor, Matty's eyes remain glued to your own as you hang your mouth open. From this angle you can see all of his pretty curls framing his face and every eyelash around his deep brown eyes. Before you even have a moment to anticipate it, a thick translucent glob of spit descends from his perfect lips and onto your waiting tongue. You swallow it eagerly as his cock twitches inside of your walls, and before you can even thank him, his hand unoccupied hand latches back onto your neck.

"I'm going to fuckin' come, shit. You're so hot." Matty's praises send you to another plane of existence as he holds you by the neck, deft fingers curling around your clit in time with his thrusts. You're sure that the sounds you're making are pathetic and embarrassing but pleasure courses through you so quickly that you can barely make out your warning that you were going to come.

Matty growls as you finally let yourself go, giving up to the monsoon of pleasure that wipes through your entire body. Your toes curl, muscles strained with the force of your orgasm as you hold him as close as possible with your legs. Matty curses, plowing into as he nears his own end. Even though you feel out of this world, you are acutely aware of everything about him; the way he pants and the rivulets of sweat that are beading down his chest, the beautiful moans that come from his bitten-red lips.

"Gonna come, can I come inside?" His desperation is making him whiny, and if you were less fucked out you would poke fun at the tone you know he would hate, but all you can think about is having his hot come fill you up.

"Yes, please! Need it Matty." A sliver of overstimulation starts to overwhelm your easy pleasure but you endure through it as you feel his cock twitch heavily inside of you before he leans into you, face buried into your shoulder as he comes. Although you mourn the loss of the face he makes, you get a beautiful sample of the moans that overtake him when he comes. The sound takes your breath away alongside the feeling of him filling you to the brim, so forcefully that you feel yourself shudder with another small orgasm as he finishes with a few more tiny thrusts of his hips. You gasp for air, immediately grappling for him to wrap your arms fully around his back.

He falls into you easily, his own chest heaving as his cock softens inside of you. You hear rather than feel him kissing over the plane of your shoulder as you float in and out of focus, exhausted and most likely dehydrated from this and the night before. Unintelligible speech rumbles against your skin, and Matty must realize that your lack of response means you aren't quite there, as he leans up onto his elbows.

You smile when you see him, face flushed and eyes heavy with fatigue.

"Handsome," you finally speak the word you held back last night and he laughs heartily as he cups your jaw as if examining you to look for damages before placing a kiss onto your lips; short and sweet and grounding.

"Glad you finally caught up, love. It was getting exhausting being the only one in the house who thought so."

You roll your eyes, finally coming back to yourself and reality.

"Last time I'll ever compliment you." Giggles continue to wrack his body as he slowly pulls out of you. The gush of your mixed arousal coming out of you makes you whine, sure that you had just ruined your sheets.

Matty looks guilty as you finally make eye contact again and you just wave him off, sitting up slowly as he flops onto the bed beside you. He looks up at you, reverently, and you blush.

"Stop that, please. Stop." Your voice is still scratchy but you can't fight the smile on your face, the undeniable hope that this wasn't just a one time freak accident.

"Stop looking at how pretty you are? Especially with that just got choked and fucked within an inch of my life glow? Nah." He casually pushes his hair off of his forehead and your body betrays your rolling eyes with a new stir of arousal.

"Seriously, though. You're hot. And pretty, and gorgeous and so fucking dirty in all the best ways."

"Stop before I barf, Matthew." You try to be petulant but can't resist his cute grabby hands as he settles you down next to him, petting gently at your temple.

"But thanks," you finally squeak out, feeling tremendously tired and satisfied as you yawn. "For being cool and doing all that and, like, not running away from me after." You feel him stiffen slightly before he goes lax again.

"Love, if I'm running anywhere, it's over to my room for us to have a clean bed to do this again."

#Matty Healy #Matty Healy x reader #Matty Healy smut #matty healy oneshot #matty healy fanfic #the 1975 #matty x reader #the 1975 x reader #flatmate!matty

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cho-aaacho · 5 months

Text

When the Sun is Shining Again

Masterlist

Tags : Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Waltzing, Dancing Together, Living Together, Multiple Kisses, Rainy Day, Soft Gojo, Sweet Talker reader.

Summary: An old melody, a blurred silhouette. A weak way of life really isn't cool, you know?

"Darling, do you have any memories attached to you? Some feelings in your heart leave a sensation. I want to go back to that time."

"Memories?" He turns around, his azure eyes gracing you. His memory was floating somewhere, like a white feather in the clear morning sky.

You smiled at him, caressing his jawline while sealing a tender kiss on his nose. Then you wrapped your arm around his neck and savored the last drop of his sweet perfume. You playfully ran your fingers through his hair. Feeling his beautiful silver on your fingers.

"I have one," you started, caressing the contour of his nose and whispering. "I was the only child. Every time I finished reading a book, my mom would give me a Pokemon card. It's an ultra-rare card, and I'm so happy about it! And you? What about you, Satoru-kun?"

You lifted your head from his shoulder and settled yourself on his lap, trying to find his best answer. When you lifted your head, you could sense a glimpse of disappointment, sadness, sorrow, and longing on his face.

"Oh, my dear, you don't have to tell me if you're uncomfortable, Satoru-kun. I'm sorry,"

You mused and touched his nose tip. "You deserve to be happy, even when the world around you treats you badly; remember that there's someone who truly cares about you."

"Thank you," he nodded. He noticed that you almost cried after seeing his expression.

He wasn't sure why he was reacting that way. It's extremely rare for him to express his sadness to his partner. He is so warm and always surrounded by vibrant yellow.

After all, no one can change fate, and shedding tears over the past is completely unnecessary.

You get up from his lap and leave a kiss on his cheek, gliding gently to the kitchen to bring two cups of hot chocolate.

Satoru gazes at you for a while as he is distracted by the backdrop of rain-smeared windows. Your radiant smile enveloped him as you drew closer and handed him the hot chocolate with marshmallows on top.

"I sense a wave of nostalgia," he began, gently patting your head.

Then he continued, "The weather, hot chocolate, and your earlier questions—it's not that I didn't want to discuss them. I've come to accept that I can't erase my past or bring back someone from death. But as long as you're here with me, that's all I need."

"Ah, Satoru-kun, don't mention that. You make me cry, you know that?"

You respond with a gentle smile, and following his gaze to the window, the rain persists heavily. It's so cold; to be honest, you always hate rain in the evening. Even the delicious warmth of hot chocolate doesn't seem to help enough.

He draws nearer, his shoulder brushing against yours, touching each other like a magnet. The melody of raindrops is followed by his soft humming, creating a romantic attraction between you and him.

"Anyway," he added with a giggle, "do you still remember the first waltz we did in high school?"

"Eh? Why bring that up? Of course, I do. You're a good dancer," you tease, pinching his cheek. Because you know very well that Satoru is so bad at dancing.

"Your moves are a bit weird. I still remember that Kusakabe-kun is laughing at you."

He yelling. "Hey, don't mention Kusakabe! I'm a good dancer, you know. I've mastered a simple waltz from Ijichi."

"Ijichi-kun good at waltz? Wow, I didn't know that. So, as proof of Ijichi-kun's talent, maybe you can show me your skills? I know you'd love that, handsome."

He smiled gently. "Alright, I'll show you."

He glided with a cute gesture. You still sense awkwardness in his movement, but you are trying to hold your laughter because he appears so enthusiastic.

He gently extends his hand, reaching yours, and guides you to follow his steps. Satoru squeezes your waist gently, feeling his warmth against your skin.

His azure eyes pierced toward yours as you swayed from side to side, following his gaze. You nestled your head on his neck, longing to be closer to him, to sniff his aroma, and to feel his breath against yours.

"See, I'm an expert," he whispered, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek and brushing his nose on your skin.

He is sealing a brief kiss. Repeating the gesture, he pulled your body close. Fold his arm around your waist. A soft moan escaped from his lips, adding a touch of passion to the moment.

The kiss was a blend of sweetness, passion, desire, longing, and intimacy.

"Uh—sorry if I got carried away."

"Satoru-kun, darling, is a fast learner, heh? I should have baked a cake for Ijichi-kun as a thank you."

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo

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downtroddendeity · 4 months

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@turnkeyassurance saw your tags and figured I'd take the opportunity to pause my descent into madness to give my more sober opinions on the Ni no Kuni franchise, lol. (Warning: I am a humongous JRPG nerd)

The NNK games are really odd ducks, quality-wise. You can call either one a good game or a bad game and call either one better than the other, and any combination of those opinions can be something I think is entirely justified. Both of them have things they do remarkably well and also serious, profound, deal-breaking flaws, and the really weird thing is that there's almost no overlap between those two lists for the two games. What clicks and doesn't about both of them is going to be deeply individual.

What Ni no Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch does, with resounding success, is Vibes. It sets out at every single step with the goal of being a playable Ghibli movie, and it sticks to that principle. It's all about beautiful, cel-shaded whimsy. It's a game for people who want to feel like they're wandering through the meadows in the movie version of Howl's Moving Castle. There are lots of puns, and you can befriend all the random encounter monsters and feed them ice cream.

But that's also its Achilles' heel: because it's dedicated entirely to imitation, it has trouble bringing things to the table that are really its own. It has the visual and narrative aesthetics of Hayao Miyazaki's films, but it doesn't have the raw emotion at the heart of them. And as a game, its mechanics combine the clunkiest features of menu-based combat and action RPGs, and while everything about the Pokemon-esque mechanics seems designed to encourage players to collect and experiment with them, the balancing turns attempting to do that into a miserable grindy nightmare.

The other problem is that it... isn't actually the first Ni no Kuni game. Wrath of the White Witch is, in fact, a remake of the Nintendo DS game Ni no Kuni: Dominion of the Dark Djinn, which was never released outside Japan. The reason for this is pretty easy to explain, because DDD had another gimmick besides its aesthetics: it came with a real-life physical copy of the wizard spellbook, and the player had to look things up in it and draw sigils on the DS touchscreen to cast spells. So, we've got a high-effort remake that had to completely cut the central mechanic... and which also expanded the plot so that the original main villain was no longer the primary antagonist. This results in a game with what is very clearly a final dungeon and very clearly a final boss and very clearly a resolution to the story, which suddenly has a completely different plot dropped on it like a fucking anvil that it expects you to be just as invested in even though it hasn't had anything like the same level of buildup.

And ironically, this is almost the exact opposite of the biggest problem with Ni no Kuni 2: Revenant Kingdom, a.k.a. the one with my new blorbo, the President of the United Union of Eagleland. 2 is an effort to try to cement an identity for the series that can be its own, rather than requiring them to depend indefinitely on borrowed Miyazaki nostalgia. It just has the teeny-tiny, itsy-bitsy problem that at some point in development it had a budget shortfall so bad that you can finish the game without ever realizing that there is a continent-sized crashed interdimensional spaceship on the world map.

This game has had a machete taken to it. Don't get me wrong, I genuinely respect the work they did to make what they could with what they had, but you can see the signs of massive scope cuts to literally every aspect of the game. The back half of the game has almost exclusively recycled enemy and environment assets; voice acting has been trimmed down to canned voice clips; the catboy protagonist's ears and tail are barely animated; one minigame was so inadequately playtested that a level 16 mission is massively harder than level 50 ones; and while whatever restructuring they had to do to the main plot still left the final version with a more solid and coherent central arc than WWW in my opinion, it also left a lot of truly gaping plot holes, like oh, I don't know, why the President of the United States got turned into a 19-year-old.

Literally, they just. Entirely forgot to explain that. Half the DLC is just the writers scrambling to fix stuff like that and add a bunch of character development that should have been in the base game.

However, despite all this, I personally enjoyed NNK2 more than NNK1 unironically, not just for Rolandposting reasons. Compared to the first one, it plays much more smoothly as a straight action RPG, and while it can't provide the same knock-your-socks-off aesthetic cohesion, to me it seemed a lot more heartfelt- that is, like a game that was made because people had a story they wanted to tell.

But, well, we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the non-unironic reasons, because the story they really, genuinely wanted to tell was about a magical catboy growing up and learning to become a leader, and somehow, miraculously, they really thought that was the story I was here for too when they opened the game with the President of the United States being isekaied by Nuke-kun.

Sorry, guys, I have a crippling addiction to dramatic irony and my day job is tech work in local politics, you could not have more laser-targeted this at making me specifically laugh my ass off if you tried.

#turnkeyassurance #reply #gameblogging #/#//#ni no kuni #ni no kuni 2

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cipheramnesia · 2 months

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I think if you want to really make an all out nostalgia movie, don't be coy about it. Just make Return to the Night of the Living Dead, Part II, and have it be about a guitar-playing nerd who befriends a scientist with a time machine that he built into a retrofitted De Tomaso Pantera, with the plan to travel back in time to 1968, when a strange phenomenon raised the living dead, which he will bring forward in an army to fight of the Visitors now that their plans to strip mine the earth for resources have been revealed.

But just before that can happen, the scientist is gunned down by the secret police working under the Visitors orders to stomp out the 5th column, so the nerd jumps in the car and tries to fulfill the original mission. When he arrives the film switches to black and white and we discover he's at the same farmhouse that the original NotLD. In the process of steering the zombie horde away he saves Ben and the others, while accidentally preventing his grandparents from meeting over a zombie they kill together, oh no!

Now he has to find a way to get his grandparents to meet and preserve the living dead to become the army of the future! Eventually he gets both of them working with him, and they manage to bury the dead under a huge pile of dirt which is about to become the parking lot for the mall where he originally left from. His parents hold a gun together and blow one last zombie's brains out and at that moment the movie bursts back into color! He leaves for the future as Ben stands next to his parents and is like "weird kid, but his folks raised him alright."

In the future, instead of getting killed, the scientist is saved when an army of zombies plows up from the pavement, biting and turning all the visitors into some kind of hybrid lizard zombie like a zombizard or lizombie or something and the earth is saved, hurrah whatever, cut me a check.

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cas-skz · 1 year

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Halftime Show

Pairing: Han Jisung x (fem)Reader

Summary: The relationship between you and your brother's best friend is no longer innocent

Word Count: 1,836

Warnings/Tags: MDNI, Talk of Alcohol, Language, Light Smut, Suggestive Content

Written by: @littleforeignaffairs

Saturday nights are your favourite. It was the one night a week you took for yourself to practice some “self care”. To you, that was popping a bag of popcorn and having a few drinks while watching the game. It was something you took from your childhood. Your older brothers and twin, Evan, used to spend Saturday evenings together with your father doing the same thing. You were quite young when you started joining in; really you only cared about the popcorn.

Now, it’s the nostalgia and the game itself. Of course, the popcorn and beer help. Your slipper scuff against the hardwood as you make your way to the living room. Your arms wrapped around a bowl of popcorn, you lean your head down sticking your tongue out to pick up a piece. The front door opens just as you reach the couch.

“Hey” the familiar voice spoke.

Han has been your brother’s best friend since middle school. The two are attached at the hip, just as much as you and Evan are. So naturally when you and Evan got accepted into the same college, Han was close behind. You and Evan share an apartment just off campus. Though Han lives in a dorm, he is often at your place.

“He’s not home yet” You plop yourself onto the couch, a few pieces of popcorn falling from the bowl. You furrow your brows, angrily looking at your fallen snack.

“You know how he is” You pick up the popcorn from the couch, pushing them into your mouth “ you may as well hang out” You look over your shoulder at Han, who’s smiling at you. “What the fuck are you grinning at”

“Nothing” He shrugs, finally walking into the house to sit on the couch with you. He groans a sigh of relief, as if he hasn’t been able to sit in hours.

“Rough day” you mock, side eyeing him.

“The worst. I had to work and everything”

You roll your eyes, slipping some more popcorn in your mouth. He chuckles a little, hand reaching into your bowl. You swat at his hand, giving it a little slap.

“Hey, come on. Why no share?”

You smirk looking over at him. Han holds his slapped hand against his body, pretending to sulk.

“Quit being such a moocher”

Han huffs a little, sinking into the couch. He focuses his attention onto the game, still partially sulking. You enjoy teasing Han as much as he enjoys teasing you. He knows how to be cute and play the innocent card. It usually made you just want to tease him more. You take a piece of popcorn, bringing it to his lips. He flinches a little, glancing at you.

“You wanted some? So, eat eat, you eat”

You smile slightly, the confused look on Hans face growing. He parts his lips a little and you place it into his mouth. You keep your gaze on him, taking another piece into your own mouth. You laugh lightly.

“What’s wrong with you”

Han chews slowly, his face turning pink.

“I don’t know, you’ve never done that before”

You shrug a little, turning your attention to the game.

“You’re not a stranger to me, why can’t I feed you” Han clears his throat, sitting up some. He starts to speak, but you hop up quickly, interrupting him “Drinks”

You scuffle back into the kitchen, remembering you had left the beer on the counter. You grab an extra one from the fridge, now that Han is here. You grin at him , hand extending out towards him, a can in your hand.

“Here” you prompt him.

Han slowly takes it from you, his eyes looking over your body. You imitate him, looking at yourself too. You’re wearing your usual home attire, a college sweater and a pair of your old volleyball shorts.

“Whats wrong?” You ask, as you sit back down next to him. Your weight on the couch shifts Han closer to you. “You’re being a little weird tonight”

Han’s eyes are casted downwards on your legs. He rubs his neck nervously. “Aren’t your shorts… a little short?” he murmured softly

You tilt your head a little “I’m at home, it’s only us here”

He looks up to meet your eyes, and nods gently “Mm, youre right”

“Why are you concerned” You start, shifting closer to him. You lower your voice softer “Am I distracting you”

Han’s eyes shift from your eyes to your lips a few times. His lips part a little as he breathes out shakily, struggling to make any words. You smirk a little, leaning back into your original position. Han relaxes some, clearing his throat. He grabs one of the throw pillows from beside him. He places it on his lap, shifting away from you.

You glance over at Han again. His face looked flushed and shimmery. You both always tease each other, but he has never reacted like he is now. You begin to wonder if you make him feel uncomfortable. You feel terrible. He’s your brothers best friend, you don’t want him to be upset with you.

“Hannie” You slide to the end of the couch, turning to face him. You rest your hand on his knee. Han looks at your hand, then meets your gaze. “I’m sorry, did I make you feel uncomfortable”

Han swallows hard. He stays silent for a moment, then sighs heavily. He rubs the bridge of his nose.

“No. Its actually the opposite” He licks his lips, then presses them together tightly.

You scan his face, not fully understanding what he was saying. Han’s eyes glance down at the pillow on his lap, then back to yours. You look to the pillow, and finally realize. You gasp a little, pulling your hand back.

“Oh”

Your reaction makes Han blush even harder. He chuckles awkwardly. You admit to yourself that you have thought about it before. You and Han are incredibly close, he’s cute, kind and fit. You just never thought that he could see you in that way being your brother’s friend.

“Sorry, I can go if-“ “Don’t”

Han looks at you. His dark eyes seem so soft, yet there's a hint of sadness. You look back down at the pillow, slowly taking it off his lap. You sit closer to Han, placing your hand on his upper thigh. Han looks to your hand, then back at you.

“What are you doing” He whispers

You lean in closer, looking at Han’s lips. They’re parted slightly, you can feel his breath rapidly hitting your lips. You meet his gaze again, then gently kiss him. Han doesn’t react. You pull back slowly to look at him. The sadness has left his eyes, and is now replaces with a glimmer of hope. You bring your lips back onto his, and this time, Han returns the kiss.

Han breathes in sharply, bringing a hand up to your cheek. You part your lips on his, letting him slip his tongue across yours. Your hand squeezes his thigh gently before cautiously gliding up further. You can feel the bulge twitching underneath his sweat pants. It turns you on…

You get up on your knees, leaning your body onto Han. You pull at the waistband of his sweats, slipping your hand under the fabric. You go straight for skin, rubbing your palm over Han’s still hardening cock. Han’s chest puffs with a deep breathe in when you touch him. He grabs hold of your wrist, pulling his head back to look at you, concerned.

“Don’t do this because you think you have to”

You shake your head gently, kissing Han again. “I want to” you breathe on his lips “So, please, let me”

Your fingers curl around Han, slowly beginning to pump your hand. Han’s eyes flutter shut, head falling back. A quiet moan escapes his lips, you eagerly muffle the sounds with your own. One of Han’s hands lands at the small of your back, sliding down to rest on your ass. He gives a gently squeeze, groaning on your lips.

You smile, loving that you’re making Han feel good in this way. You bring your hand to the top of his head, taking his precum to use as lube. You feel his body shiver under you, the sensitivity building. Your free hand grabs Han’s hand, guiding it towards your pussy. Just the thought of making him touch you is making you more wet.

You separate your lips from his, so he can look at you. You nibble at your bottom lip, grazing his hand up your inner thigh. You push his hand into your shorts, watching his eyes become more eager. His fingers slide down over your clit. You lips part slowly, continuing his fingers over your opening. You breathe in deeply before sliding 2 of his fingers inside you. Your eyes close. A shaky moan pairs with a throaty groan from Han.

“Fuck..” He murmurs

You lean over, resting your forehead on Han’s. His touch creates butterflies in your stomach. Your breathing is uneven as Han moves his fingers in and out of you. Your hand grips his cock a little tighter, quickening the pace. Hans eyes, filled with lust, looks over your body. He moves his hand from you ass , up your body to the nape of your neck. He pulls you into a kiss, sighing a heavy moan.

A shiver runs through your body, your walls clenching around Han’s finger. You whine, biting at his bottom lip. His hand moves faster, liquid streaming down over his wrist. Your hips begin to move involuntarily, riding his hand.

“Han” You plead “I want to feel you”

Han glances over your face, studying it, confirming you were sure. He licks his lips, pulling his fingers out of you. Both his hands begin guiding your hips back, Han raising up to get onto of you.

The doorknob rattles with the jingle of keys. Han pulls back, just as you push him off you. He grabs the pillow once again, covering his throbbing erection. You slide as far away from Han as possible. The door swings open and Evan walks through.

He stops, staring at the two of you on the couch. You chew on your finger, pretending to be focused on the game. Han casually looks over his shoulder, giving an upward nod

“Hey” he murmurs

“You couldn’t wait so you replaced me, huh?” Evan scoffs jokingly.

“She’s cuter than you” Han shrugs

Your cheeks burn red. You were already embarrassed, almost getting caught having sex with Evans best friend. But now he’s openly flirting. Evan rolls his eyes.

“Whatever you say man. Lemme take a shower and we can head out”

Evan walks down the hall, directly to the bathroom. You hear the door clicks shut. You jump up quickly, grabbing Han’s wrist. You guide him towards your room

“We have 15 minutes”

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #kpop fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #han x reader #han jisung x reader #han smut #han jisung smut #han fluff #han jisung fluff #littleforeignaffairs

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 24 days

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Do you think they should have went with the Chosen One plot for Anakin when they made the prequels? I've been rewatching the original trilogy and there is no mention of any prophecy. It seemed more like Anakin was a very powerful Jedi, but nothing grander then that.

Then, all of sudden the prequels are saying that he is the literal messiah of the Galaxy, destined to bring balance to the Force.

I mean, this isn't the blog for that, anon.

It's really not the blog for it not just in the sense that we talk about how things are here not how we want them to be but also because I think the Original Trilogy are also incredibly bad movies. They're not winning awards for being any better than the rest of the gang or any more righteous, they just have nostalgia, a few great actors carrying the weight (but only a few and not even some of the most important ones), a fantastic soundtrack (that admittedly is strikingly similar in parts to Holst's The Planets), and some great special effects and editing as of the time that George has tried to strip away with every passing year. It's no skin off my nose if the Prequels took some liberties to make things better (and... the thing about The Prequels is that they're not better, of course, but the plot is a lot more compelling than 'the Death Star blew up once' followed by a short break then 'the Death Star blew up twice')

But as for your question, it didn't strike me as too odd we didn't hear of it, because that's the whole thing: Jedi culture is wiped out to two known survivors (that we see anyway). And per those Jedi survivors, Anakin was very clearly not the chosen one as he did anything but bring balance to the Force.

So, you have Obi-Wan who doesn't want to talk about fucking any of it and lies through his teeth multiple times to Luke because he just doesn't want to talk about any of it. Then you have Yoda who wants to talk about it even less.

Neither is bringing up "did you know there was this prophecy where your father was supposed to bring balance to the Force? Boy, did he sure not do that".

Vader certainly isn't bringing it up either as, well, look at his miserable life and how much he hates himself and the Jedi. He's not bringing up their stupid prophecy that clearly wasn't true.

Remember very little is known about the Jedi for the common people, especially after Palpatine's taken over and spread propaganda and such. Han doesn't even think the Jedi are real and if he does it's "that weird space religion cult thing that died out???"

That is to say the prophecy is not common knowledge and especially not for people like Luke, Han, or even Leia for that matter for all she's a little more Jedi adjacent.

Even within the Jedi we see that people don't take the prophecy seriously. That was a Qui-Gon thing. He was super into that prophecy, yo, and the other Jedi (Yoda, Mace, Obi-Wan even) all sort of stared at him looking very upset for insisting on this.

And in the war, while Anakin was an exceptionally talented Jedi, he wasn't really used as a propaganda piece/seen as the only Jedi who would save them all.

The prophecy was just the reason Qui-Gon insists on training him despite his age and is one of those things that seems to have actually been correct for all that no one will ever admit it.

(@therealvinelle can correct me if I'm wrong but I'm going to lay down something that will make people very upset: Anakin being "The Hero with No Fear", seen as one of two great Jedi in the war who are doing so much for the cause more than anyone else, and the extra focus on this prophecy was an invention of Disney's 2008 The Clone Wars, not the films.)

#star wars #star wars meta #star wars headcanon #the original trilogy #anti the original trilogy #the prequel trilogy #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #yoda #qui-gon jinn #meta #headcanon #opinion

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m-mintyq · 2 years

Text

stolen sweaters

pairing : Will Byers x gn!reader, no pronouns mentioned

word count : 1.09 k

summary : you stole one of Will’s sweater sometime in the summer of ‘85. you only told him some time before he was moving, but he said you could keep it. Later when we go to California you bring it with you, which leads to a bittersweet nostalgia conversation because you put it on once you all got back after the trip to Rink-O-Mania.

warnings? : just fluff & mutual pining :]. very minimal swearing

a/n : I wrote this as a shifting scenario, so there's a mention of a birthday- so just pretend your birthday is before march. you may also pretend that it's a super late gift if your birthday is after march :') plus I'm taking this as my opportunity to insert my headcanon that Will helps Joyce around the house with tasks and stuff.

this is also my first time publishing something like this so be kind lol <3

“Is that my sweater?” Will said as he walked into his bedroom, checking on you.

“Sure is…I hope you don’t mind that I kept it this long.” you said, sliding your suitcase back away and sitting to face your friend.

“No, no, not at all…More surprised that you still have it” He said sitting by his desk, fiddling with his hands to distract from the awkwardness.

It’s not that it was awkward talking to each other, it’s just that there was some kind of tension in the room making both of you a bit nervous.

“Well I can’t really just throw it away, plus it’s a really nice sweater.” You remarked. True, you couldn’t throw away a sweater that didn’t even really belong to you and you would’ve felt awful throwing it away even if it was yours. And the sweater really was nice, it was comfortable, not like those itchy Christmas sweaters your grandparents would get you, but more like the ones that were warm, comfortable, had that old knitted look & feel all without itching.

“Doesn’t smell like you anymore tho.” You half-whispered without thinking as you began to fiddle with the sleeves.

“What?”

“Uhh..It doesn’t smell like you anymore. I remember finally wearing it after you’d moved because it was too hard to even put it on once you left and noting that it smelt like you.” finally looking up from each others distractions your eyes met, both wanting to break away because you had problems making eye contact, but the want to stay in the moment just made it feel like time froze.

“You…you know what I smell like?” It would’ve sounded creepy in any other context but it was nice in this one. While thoughts of worry and wanting to go back and shut up ran through your head, all Will could think about is how his heart got warmer at the idea of you longing for him and wearing the old sweater to feel closer to him.

“It- It sounds weird and creepy I- I know but-”

“No…I, I think it’s kind of sweet.” you were kindly cut off before you could dig yourself a hole even deeper.

“Soooo…you still got some on you for the sweater?” chuckling, you were referring to the scent of the sweater, as if Will just carried around a bottle of it.

“I- what do you want me to do with it- rub it on me?” he said giggling in-between words as he got up out of the chair, going to sit on the floor opposite you.

“I don't know! Whatever works I guess…Or I could just steal a new one.” joining in the laughing, you switched into a more comfortable position since sitting on your knees was proving to not be as nice as imagined.

“mmmh…I might have a nice one somewhere-” Will responded now shuffling closer to his wardrobe, opening a half empty drawer.

“No I wasn’t actually serious- I mean I can’t take ANOTHER sweater—”

“I’m fine with giving you one—”

“No Will I can’t, I already feel bad for having kept this one.” still set on not taking any more of your ‘friends’ clothes, your tone got firmer, a bit too firm for your liking but you had a trouble regulating your tone, plus it was too late to rephrase now.

Both of you paused for a moment, the silence letting you slip into overthinking, questioning whether you said something wrong- maybe you did say it too harshly? fuck did you make it too awkward? you probably sound stupid…what if you did something? does-

“What if…youuu…gave me back the old sweater…and I give you a new one?” Will prompted, pulling out a similar style sweater. “It should be practically the same.”

Pulled from your thoughts your eyes ran over the object in his hands, Wills eyes examining your expression from your peripherals. “You sure? It was really just a silly comment you don't have to.”

“But I want to. Take it as a late birthday gift”

“But you sent me a gift—”

“Doesn't matter, take it. Besides, sweaters look good on you.” Taking the sweater into your hands and examining it, you felt a flash of heat on your face, but hoping it wasn't too noticeable you sent your friend a smile.

Pulling Will into a hug, you dropped the sweater in your lap so you have both hands free. “Thank you.” Though this made you blush even more, to your dismay, you didn't really care, more focused on your ‘friend’ at the moment.

Will on the other side, though calm on the outside, was yelling on the inside. All positive of course.

It took him by surprise when you pulled him in, him having been so focused on your expression and reaction to the ‘gift’

Both of you just kind of sat there, not wanting to let go. It was kind of nice, feeling the warmth and comfort of each other, but with more time passing the tension of awkwardness grew too much to ignore. Conveniently, both of you awkwardly parted at the same time, not really knowing what else to do other than continue to sit in silence for a moment longer.

“So uhh…”

“Yeah I’m gonna just…put this away and…”

“I..I’ll see you, in the kitchen?” Will said half-stumbling to his feet and then to the door.

“Yeah..Yeah I’ll be there in a sec.” hurrying you pulled your backpack closer to you, zipped it open & carefully put it inside, avoiding the other things already in there. Putting the bag aside again, you got to your feet and hurried after Will.

You noticed Jonathan and Argyle sitting at the table, Murray and Joyce setting the table, while Mike and Jane nowhere in sight for now. Finally your eyes caught Will, speed-walking from kitchen to dining room, carrying plates, glasses, cutlery back and forth. Didn’t he leave his room like…just a minute ago?

You slipped into a chair next to Jonathan, him shooting you a dopey smile before turning back to Argyle. Soon enough the table was filled with food, Mike and Jane sulking in their seats, Will contently sitting opposite you, and Joyce running her last task before coming to sit down.

“Is that Will’s old sweater?” she said sitting down.

“Mom—” Will spoke out of embarrassment, already begun to poke at his food.

“Uhhh- yeah, it is.” You half-willingly responded, pointing your eyes down in your plate.

“Hm…It looks nice on you.”

#will byers #will byers x reader #will byers x male reader #will byers x male!reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #will byers x you #mlm #mlnb #fluff #mutual pining #fanfic #oneshot #will byers fanfiction #will byers fluff

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