Room 17, Second Floor, Haunted House, Saturday Evening

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle was so very ready to move out of this place. Yes, living on an even tinier island than usual was maybe quaint and all, and she hadn't had to deal with her roommate much at all, and maybe if you squinted, there was something comfortingly familiar about the presence of the supernatural.

But. That last bit especially was so goddamn annoying. See, when Isabelle was trying to take advantage of the fact that her roommate wasn't around, and trying to, you know, relax and enjoy herself a little, all curled up on her bed in her nice pajamas (because being alone was no reason to look anything less than her best) and scrolling through some of the more not safe for the public kind of stuff she had saved on her phone... The last thing she needed was for some disembodied voice to start crying uncontrollably in the corner of her room. Right as she was about to settle down to watch that one video, too. Pretty boys getting it on didn't go with wailing, thank you very much!

And of course, the crying voice was soon joined by another one. And once those quieted down, there was a brief misty figure on the other side of the room.

"Are you done already?"

When she felt a random instance of pure dread rush through her senses, she slumped down on her bed with a great big annoyed sigh. So ready to move out of this damn place.

[ooc: Closed door, open post if you're up for SP. In all honesty I am mostly posting to use at least a portion of an idea I ran out of time to fully use, la.]

Comments

[seveninchmotto]

What was it with him and randomly tugging on the heartstrings she was barely aware she had, at unexpected moments? It was highly annoying.

(No, it wasn't. She would've just liked to pretend it was.)

There was a pause. But just a short one. "I don't want to take your clothes with me to get off in them," she whispered. "I want to take them with me because they smell like you, and that makes me feel comfortable." And maybe that wasn't new but stating it in so many words was pretty big for her. "And I want your hand to heal so I can hold it."

Properly, not cautiously.

[flickofthewrist]

"Baby, thank you. Thank you," Flick said, using the same tone of voice he'd just used to request that. He stroked harder and faster, licking his lips and thrusting up into his hand.

His back stayed arched and he stroked a few more times before he started coming with a wordless shout. His whole body was tense and tight while he started coming on his hand and stomach.

[seveninchmotto]

Ugh, that tone. It just inexplicably made her want to hold him close and tight.

She settled for rubbing her hand against his chest while she was watching him come. And while she was watching him calm down. Murmuring his name a few times.

[flickofthewrist]

And Flick had no idea what that tone did to her. He just knew it was one he couldn't help sometimes so it came out. He was panting for a few moments before that abated and his body started to uncoil and relax.

"Thank you," he said. Sorry, that tone was still there and he leaned closer to kiss her temple. "You're so worth everything."

[seveninchmotto]

God, what an asshole. Isabelle kept rubbing her hand against his chest in a slow circle, and sighed quietly.

"You're welcome," she murmured, softly.

[flickofthewrist]

"You know how I feel. You deserve that too," he said, tone still the same as before. He gave her temple one more kiss and then sighed into silence.

He'd have to get up to clean up in a bit but right now he was just going to lay there with her.

[seveninchmotto]

Good, because Isabelle wasn't about to let go of him immediately either. She draped her arm across his chest and quietly kissed his shoulder.

Way better for everyone than him sneaking off to the bathroom.