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#I've bottled up this one for too long too...
htchnr · 19 hours
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♰ my heart is a sad affair ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚
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➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!
CW ➻ canon typical violence ⋆ slighttttt canon divergence in episode 2 in Filly ⋆ let's pretend there's a cryo vault close okay ⋆ Cooper getting shot multiple times ⋆ reader is on the verge of a heart attack or panic attack ⋆ she can't choose ⋆ FEELINGS ⋆ mention of reader going through drug and alcohol benders ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!
PAIRING ➻ wife!reader x Cooper. (they were married before the war, but both of them believe the other is long dead.)
SUMMARY ➻ request by a lovely anon ; but the angst in a fic for what if you were cryogenically vault frozen for some reason and many years later you get free and try and find place on the surface and then run into Cooper’s edgy ghoul self either literally run into or just happen to be at the same market stall, my heaRT. WC ➻ 4,8k.
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!
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the day the bombs dropped was a day you desperately tried to forget. bottle after bottle, stash of chems after stash — there wasn't a thing you hadn't tried to make you forget.
to make you forget the lies from Vault Tec, Moldaver, the loss of your husband that you fear would never get better, you wanted so bad to forget it all. but after being thawed out in a vault after a system wide malfunction and being thrust into the violently changed world made it so damn difficult to forget.
you shuffled around the town, Filly, looking for any kind of work. you weren't too picky as long as it payed decent and didn't cross too many lines for you personally. you walked past a chems stall, some shady guy selling a surprisingly wide variety of things. "c'mon, three hundred caps for that little is fuckin' ridiculous," a tall guy in a long tattered duster and cowboy hat challenged the shady man behind the stall.
your heart ached, the cowboy's voice a little too similar to one you used to hear every morning.
"mm," he would hum, "good mornin' sweetheart," he'd smile, his usually only slightly present southern twang would shine through in the tired hours of the morning, pressing firm kisses into your skin.
"good morning," you'd tiredly giggle, your undying love for him clear in your smile as you would hold him close, as if he'd disappear if you did.
oh how quickly that memory turned so sour, he did disappear when you let go that awful morning. he vanished from your life after he left for the birthday party he was asked to attend. you looked up at the sky, blinking away the tears. you continued through the town, walking over to Ma's to see if she needed anything.
you're somewhat of a regular there, stopping by from time to time either for supplies or work. sometimes hanging around to help her out around the shop.
you stepped inside, the familiar smell of dirty metals, rotten limbs and blood flooding your senses. you'd gotten used to Ma's, gotten used to her company, hell you'd even go as far as to say you'd consider her a sort of friend. "hey Ma," you holler, finding her at the counter as per usual.
she swears, looking up from her ledger. "hey hey! lookin' for more work?" she grins, her smile missing more than a few teeth.
you walk up to lean against the counter, nodding. "anything you need done, i don't care."
she knew your words meant anything by the tone of them, and she paused working on writing something down to move to thumb through the thick book. "well," she hummed, her dirty finger stopping at one line in the ledger. "i've got something that i desperately need done, but don't take it too lightly," she warned.
you waved your hand dismissively, the memories of your past burning away any boundaries you had set up when you left the vault. "give it to me Ma, don't care what it is."
she looks you up and down, eyes flitting over your gear in your holsters. she sighs and the shrugs, nodding to herself. "i got a man comin' in in a bit, Wilzig. i need you to take him to Moldaver." she said firmly.
you blinked as you snapped out of your sour trance, Moldaver. that was a name you hadn't heard in a long time. sure, you'd heard whispers around towns, everyone heard of Moldaver, but no one knew her as well as you did. "i'll take it." you said, as firm as Ma had spoken.
she sighed but nodded, “i’ll holler when he’s here, for now if you’re so desperate for work, ‘could use some help out back with a giant heap of junk someone dropped off. sift through it, see what’s valuable, what’s not. you know the deal.” her tone final.
you nodded, tapping the counter before heading out back. you almost regret accepting it, cause good lord was it a heap of junk. it took a while to sort through, the last half of your work admittedly got a little sloppy as you spotted someone walking in wearing colors you were all too familiar with.
the girl in the vault suit talked to Ma, and Ma was laughing, calling Barv over to look at the Vault Dweller. you had ditched your suit as soon as you could, repulsed by what the suit meant to you and the company it was from. she seemed to fully embrace it, love Vault Tec even.
then the laughter stopped. it came to such an abrupt halt that you set down whatever scrap of junk you had been holding and slowly started making your way back up the stairs and into the building. the colors sending nauseous waves through you as you watched Ma lean forward and curse the girl out of her shop.
the girl looked taken aback, but left nonetheless. "what was that about?" you spoke, Ma jumping at the sound of your voice.
"sweet lord, woman make some sound next time," she huffed, opening her ledger again. "some fuckin' happy go lucky Vault Dweller, lookin' for the wrong person." she scribbled something down before looking up at the sound of the Vault Dweller talking outside. "this fuckin' girl i swear," she grumbles, shoving the ledger shut before storming out from behind her counter.
you stayed inside, hand on the rifle on your back as you watched her talk to the girl and someone else. "you Wilzig?" you hear her ask, the person she spoke to presumably confirmed her question as a dog sprinted inside, instantly going for the bowl of bloody meat on the floor beside you. admittedly you jumped at the sudden intrusion, but calmed as you saw the dog chow down happily.
the dog cause another pang to go through your heart, Roosevelt. you missed your gorgeous boy so much — you don't think any dog in the world, not even a carbon fibre copy could ever fill the void Roosevelt left.
Ma yelled at the girl to get lost, snapping your attention back to the front of the shop. the person stepped more into the doorway, a roundish man, you could now see. he stood nervously, head constantly looking around.
Ma turned, moving to step inside the shop again, but a loud voice made her stop in her tracks. "Wilzig!" a deep southern drawl shouted from somewhere, and your grip tightened on your rifle's handle. you knew Ma could handle herself just fine, but you never strayed too far from Filly just to be sure.
the girl hadn't moved either, turning to face where the voice came from. "now, you wouldn't happen to be a doctor now would ya?" the voice rang loud and clear, though ever so slightly raspy. "cause i happen to be lookin' for one."
the more he spoke the more your brows twitched. your heart pounded, as if your body knew before your head did. the voice pulled strings inside you that you had carefully tied away, strings belonging to voice that sounded a little less raspy than the man's oustide.
you watched Ma wave the man, Wilzig, toward the door. "you know your kind ain't welcome here." she said, a firm tone in her voice.
it was quiet for a second as you tried to guess who she could mean. "well, maybe not," the man mused. "but i'm gonna make myself welcome." your heart sunk as your fingers fully wrapped around the butt of your rifle, pulling it off your back. the tone in the man's voice made it clear what his intentions were.
it was quiet, and everyone could taste the tension in the air. "now, last night a bounty came in through all six agencies," the man called out. ah, a Bounty Hunter.
"for a hefty price," his voice lowered again, you could barely hear him from inside the building. "on the head of a man that fits the description of that fella, right there." he drawls, and you can only assume he's pointing at Wilzig.
your fingers are clenched around your rifle at this point, the voice of the Bounty Hunter hitting too close to home for your liking. a voice you you wished so desperately you could hear once more, but knew wasn't possible.
"now i may not know much," the man paused, "but i do know a biddin' war when i see one."
Ma huffed, "maybe," she stands her ground and you can see her hand inching towards her gun. "but i've been paid a whole lotta caps to provide this man save transport out of Filly-" a loud bang cuts Ma off, and a shout comes from Wilzig as blood splatters into the shop. Ma shoots forward behind anything for shelter as the Vault Dweller and Wilzig remain in the Bounty Hunter's sights.
he cocks his gun again, "change of plans, i guess,"
you take a deep breath in, your shooting hand shaking a little before you step towards the doorway. "that's enough, right. now." you call out, rifle raised near your face and tightly held as you stepped foot outside the doorway, your eyes squinting a little to adjust to the sun.
your brows twitched more as you laid eyes on the man before you, heart pounding in your ears. a Ghoul. and now that you get a good look at him, it's the same man who was yelling at the shady guy at the chems stall. there was something strangely off about him though, a feeling around him that made your hands shake and your heart pound like crazy.
you saw his look falter when he laid eyes on you. dark, deep set eyes. so he felt something too— the thought was interrupted by someone firing, a bullet piercing his shoulder and shooting through, lodging itself into the wall beside you.
you watched the Ghoul snap, spinning around to shoot at whoever shot him. though it didn't feel like that was the reason, you saw something twist in the man's eyes when he saw where the bullet landed.
a chaotic burst of fire broke out, people from all around, everyone shooting at the Ghoul. and he returned fire, not even breaking a sweat. the bullet in his shoulder didn't seem to effect him one bit somehow. you held your rifle high, the man still in your cross hairs, but you hesitated.
"the fuck's goin' on with you!" Ma yelled, "shoot the fucker!" but you couldn't, all you could do was stand and watch, your rifle aimed with his head between your sights. but you couldn't pull the trigger.
you watched him walk around, not bothering to duck for cover. three loud shots rang, bullets whizzing by and lodging themselves into the Ghoul's back. you blinked, bewildered, as you only saw him jolt at the force, then sit down behind some over thrown over stall.
though you kept your rifle trained on the Ghoul, you noticed the Vault Dweller running into Ma's shop, possibly for cover.
you watched as the Ghoul shot the last person, the street's of Filly quiet besides the ringing of the last shot. he stands up, reloading his gun as he slowly makes his way back over to Ma's shop. your fingers tighten around your rifle as he moves, yet you feel your body freeze up more when he lays eyes on you again.
"i'm going to have to ask you to leave him alone." the Vault Dweller steps out of the shop behind you, gun aimed at the man. your grip falters a little as you sigh, lowering your rifle from your face to look at her. that's when the Vault Dweller notices the heavy change in the Ghoul's face, the moment he saw your face more.
"now, i acknowledge that i'm unfamiliar with your circumstances," she continues, "but, at first glance, your treatment of this man appears unfair, and i'm obliged to intervene-"
"goddamn Vault Dweller, you better shut your mouth before i shut it for you," you hiss at her, and she doesn't miss the disgust in your voice when you say 'Vault Dweller'. that tone solidifies the Ghoul's thoughts, already having put his gun back in his holster, but still keeping a firm hand on it.
you raise your rifle again, eyes back on him. your face contorts with confusion when you see the different look on his face and his gun put away. "how can it be?" he asks, eyes squinting as he dark eyes flit across your figure.
your brows twitch at his question, "come again?"
he sets a step closer, and you immediately tighten your aim. "after two hundred years," his voice a little lower, the confusion palpable. "how is it that you're here?"
it's now that the Vault Dweller takes the opportunity to drag Wilzig inside, Ma helping her. the front door slams behind them, leaving you outside.
you frown, eyes searching his scarred face for an answer. "it ain't fair that you still look so damn gorgeous after all this time," the southern twang died down a little, and now you can perfectly place his voice.
your eyes widen, your heart pounds. you shake your head, your hands were getting sweaty. "Cooper..?" your voice was quiet, but given his expression change you knew he heard you crystal clear.
his hand loosened around his gun. "oh honey," his words are equally quiet but southern drawl more intense than you knew it was, as he sets a step closer.
out of instinct your aim tightens again, the ache in your heart too much. "don't set a single foot closer," your voice trembles as you try to purvey some kind of strength still.
the man looks hurt, pain flashing before his eyes. "darlin'-" he starts,
"how do i know it's really you?" your voice gaining some strength again. "hmm? how do i know this isn't a sick fuckin' joke?" you could tell the man wasn't afraid of your rifle, hell, you'd seen him get shot four times and not even blink.
he paused, blinking slowly as he thought. he looked up, now sad eyes meeting yours. "be safe Cowpoke, don't leave me so lonely for too long." he spoke, and your heart sunk. you felt like you could throw up. "that's the last thing you ever said to me, the day it ended.
the town was too quiet, the sound of something whirring inside Ma's shop, the occasional yell of Wilzig, and both of your voices.
"how..?" you muttered, and he knew what you were asking. you slowly lowered your rifle, watching him closely as he slowly neared you.
he shook his head, "that is a story you don't wanna know," he spoke, pain in his voice. your rifle was dropped at your side once he stood before you, a handful of inches between you. he watched as a tear finally slipped down your smooth cheek. "oh honey," he whispered with a rasp, arms pulling you tightly into him.
and you let him, not moving against him until your eyes were met with the worn fabric of the same shirt he left in that dreadful say so long ago. that's when you wrapped your arms around him and let it all go against him. and he held you through it, strong arms tightly wrapped around you and a gloved hand stroking your hair.
the two of you stood like that for a while, your sobs had died down and you were worn out. he held you tight, his hold never faltering.
a million thoughts raced through Cooper's head, about you, what you'd think of what he had become, that you'd hate him for it — but most of all he was dreading having to leave you to track down the girl and Wilzig.
you reluctantly move along as he holds you away from him, sad, gaunt eyes looking into yours. "i'm sorry," he trails, his voice more raspy now.
you frown tiredly, "for what?" your question hurts him more than you can see as he pulls one hand away to rummage in the saddlebag thrown over his shoulder. your brows furrow deeply at the rope he pulls out. "Cooper..?" you ask hesitantly, watching him look at the rope with a frown.
before you know it he's got the rope wrapped around your waist, your wrists held between one of his gloved hands as you struggled against him. "hey-!" whatever was left of Cooper's heart cracked with each sound you made. his pained eyes watch the rough rope scratch against your soft skin as he tied it.
"you better have a damn good reason for this." you seethed, wriggling against him and the rope. while you looked at him with frustration, he looked back with nothing but regret.
that confused you, if he clearly didn't want to do it, why was he doing it? he pulled you back by your wrists, trying to be as gentle as he could but you wouldn't budge. "honey, please," he pleads, holding your wrists with nothing but care.
you shook your head, "unless i get a damn good explanation for this," you gesture at the rope with your head, "you're gonna have to carry me if you want me anywhere else but here." you stood your ground, digging your heels into the dry dirt.
Cooper looked down and sighed. he loved this about you, your stubbornness, your strength to fight something.
he let go of your tied wrists and you jolted away from him, but he wrapped an arm around your waist and one beneath your knees as he with impressive strength hauled you over his shoulder. "goddamnit Cooper Franklin Howard, set me down!" you shouted, tied fists hitting against his back as he moved up the stairs to Ma's porch.
once beside a post, he lifted you off his shoulder before pressing you against the post. "let me- hng- go!" you yell, thrashing in his hold. he had always been a little stronger than you, but post war he seemed even stronger. he wrapped the rope around you and the post, arms wrapping around you to tie the loose ends behind you.
he pulled away, and wished for nothing more than that you could forgive him for this as he took in your hurt, anger and confusion. he leans in, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead, and lingers for a moment longer in your warmth.
he pulls away reluctantly, setting a few steps back. "don't you dare leave me here Cooper." you seethe, but the emotion was getting to you as well.
"don't you dare leave me again."
you saw whatever remained of his heart shatter in face at your words, tears pricking at his eyes. "i'm sorry darlin'," he trails off, looking between you and Ma's front door.
he sets a few more slow steps towards the door, and you lose it. "please," you plead, tears dripping down your soft cheeks. "please don't leave me damnit."
he knew that the moment he stepped through that door, that it would be a long time before you'd forgive him for this.
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i veeeeeeery maybe will continue this where Reader let's loose on Coop for tying her up and abandoning her for a little bit, but idk, i love it just as it is 😊
TAGLIST ; @live-logs-and-proper @looonytooons @seeingstarks @thewastelandwriter @lacey-mercylercy @marina-and-the-memes @p4rsuade @anonymous-creep @likoplays @iceviolet11 @https-junebug @silverose365 @athanza @songbirdemerald-blog @justt-myth @looneylooomis @v3lv3tf0x
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pinkyqil · 1 day
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Annoying // salma paralluelo x r
Summary : just salma begin the cutest and most annoying tall shit to her short but not that short gf.
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Warning : small cursing
A/n : this is meant to be a fic that I'm was currently working on,also decided to practice writing long fic so enjoy this. taking requests has I've been busy writing other chaps for hidden secrets and my brain and mind need a break so for a while I'll be taking requests and writing, this fic gave me the opportunity to jump on the annoying gf prompt going on with woso writer's and slama just gives that vibe tbh hope you enjoy reading it and feel free to request 🫶🏿
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If you could describe salma with three words it would be, tall kind-hearted sunshine. But sometimes she could be the most aggravating piece of shit you've ever encountered.
You both meet around your vacation too Barcelona mid 2022 where your friends had invited you out for barca meet and greet for their female player's. that when you meet her.
You'd known spainsh people are very affectionate but the moment your eye's meet hers.
It felt like you've been hypnotized or what they called it love at first sight.
It must have been fate caused she also felt the same has her eye fell on you.
You and your friend made your way to salma stand where the fans got to interact with player's.
And let's just say salma was one flirt of a player she had you blushing left and right with her pick up lines at the she had sign your jersey and left her phone number for you on a piece of paper typically rom com shit.
also where your moment had come to an end after that eventful day.
You tossed and turn try to decide if you should actually message her or not until your friend had slap some sense into you.
"You know that is a life time opportunity when have you ever meet a snacklious football player that was attractive giving you their number if I were you I would sprint right now and message her ass plus wouldn't hurt a goat until you try"
"None" you mumbled.
"See so hurry your ass up and message her". She told you with a hug grin on her face before you had smack her with the pillow that was right next to you making you both burst out laughing.
The rest was history after you finally had the courage to message salma.
Now you both have been dating for nine months now. Where she had first made the move by asking you out on a date.
after dedicating one of her goals to you at a barca game and asking you out in the back room's. Where she got teased endless by her teammates for her cheesy way of asking you out with the help of her little sister vicky.
Today you both would be celebrating your 10th anniversary as you both never really re called celebrating your month anniversary together due to busy schedule that always clashed together.
And on this particular day salma decide it would be lovely to annoy you like she never did.
It all started this morning when you woke up to an empty bed. Nothing your tall girlfriend had probably gotten up early for her morning run without waking you up.
meaning she was up to no good if she hadn't woke you up when she did. Not wanting your day to start helplessly you quickly got out of bed and showered and picking out you and salma's beach outfits for the day.
Getting out of bed with short notice meant that you had to make your daily smoothie since you weren't a big coffee fan.
but like some other day salma decided too place your favorite smoothie bottle somewhere far knowing well that you couldn't reach high places without her help.
You tried getting a chair to help you reach your bottle but it felt like you shruk times two your actual height.
and couldn't get it. pissing you off as you like using specific type of mugs depending on what your having.
Finally giving up using a different cup when all of a sudden you felt a cold hand smack your ass. making you yell dropping your smoothie that now found it self on the floor.
"Salma Paralluelo If You Don't Explain Yourself Right This Moment And Clean This Mess Up You Can Definitely Find Yourself Dead To Me".
You said turning to face your your girlfriend Who's face had drop after hearing you yell at her and at the sound of the bottle falling.
"I'm very sorry baby pleasee don't ignore me I just got up early to get you these". You rolled your eye's at her but once you saw the bouquet of flowers she had gotten you couldn't be mad at her any longer especially with the expression she had on.
Forgetting about what happened this morning with salma has you both made your way to the beach. setting up your little picnic activities along with some paint and brushes that salma got you.
You both found yourselves in the moment the spainsh music playing in the background your's and salma hand intertwine has you paint and in general just seeking in the moment right before you both.
Until salma grabbed a bottle of paint squeezing it on her hand before applying it towards your face. You thought that your girlfriend childish act would stop by the end of the day but it was totally giving the opposite.
Instead of yelling at her you decide to chase with paint also on your hands.
While salma could be fast she was also very clumsy making you get to her quicker has she fell on the sand laughing until she could trun red.
Once you caught her off guard and grab her face applying the paint on too it. She instally grabbed your face pulling you into a deep kiss with her hands resting on your face.
After your make out session you'd join salma in the sea,where she would grab you by your waist making you both splash in the water enjoying your day together.
Salma might be annoying but she was the only one for you has you're the only one for her.
Your tall lil shit that was meant for your heart only.
Yn/salmaparalluelo
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Anniversary dump love you my tall other half no matter how annoying you're 💕 liked by salmaparalluelo, alexiaputellas, vickylopez, lucybronze,ona batlle and 20,40 other's
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Vickylopez la salma de mi gente favorita es muy molesta muy cierto
《 replied to vickylopez you both are very annoying not just salma
《 replied to vickylopez vicky shut up
Ona batlle thought I was the favorite 😪
《 replied to onabatlle your are oni 😚
《Replied to you Salma paralluelo no she's not 😒
Lucy bronze where's my invite 🤔
《 replied to lucybronze you simply didn't get one.
A/n: hope y'all like this pices feel free to request any player just have enough info about them and a suggestion you want and thank you for reading
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chronicowboy · 15 hours
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every part of you (simple as that) | 2.8k
"Do you ever think about having kids?" The words fall from Buck's lips the moment Tommy returns from the bar with their beers. He flounders a little, mouth opening and closing like he can suck the words back in. To his credit, Tommy only blinks in surprise and takes a second too long to unwrap his fingers from the neck of the bottle when Buck reaches for it.
"Uh, no, not really," he says carefully, evenly. And Buck's only the tiniest bit disappointed that it doesn't fluster the man more. Tommy just joins him in leaning against the railing of the gazebo, hip and shoulder solid points of contact that Buck relishes in. The warm, strong weight of Tommy against him soothing the pacing dog in his chest. "I mean, I used to. When I still thought I was straight." He huffs a little laugh at himself, and Buck shares in it. A new feeling, wistful amusement. The years lost to a question you never thought to ask, or one you couldn't find the courage to answer. "It's what you do, you know? You find a nice woman, you get married, you have kids."
"Mm," Buck hums ins agreement, taking a sip of his own beer. It's a thought he's had countless times, a thought he continues to have, but now it's not always a woman standing up there at the altar with him. "You don't think about it now?"
"I never really considered it. Not with the job and everything." Tommy sighs, deep and heavy, before turning to face Buck head on. Something raw and vulnerable creeps into his eyes, and Buck finds himself standing a little steadier ready to catch whatever fragile thing Tommy is about to hand him. "The army, firefighting, Harbour. My mortality has never been a sticking point for me. I was always thinking: well, if I die, I die."
Buck sucks in a sharp breath, the words slicing through his skin like shards of a mirror long since shattered, settling in his gut like a stone of dread. How many times had he thought the exact same? How many times will he have to pay for his own carelessness by caring for someone he could lose so easily?
"I've made sure to live a life that would leave very little behind," Tommy continues. "Or I had. Until recently."
"Oh, yeah?" Buck raises an eyebrow, heart skipping once then twice. "What changed?"
"I think..." Tommy's voice is low as he sways into Buck's space. "I think I found something to stick around for."
(OR: buck comes out to chris at the wedding)
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bro-atz · 2 days
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freesia [flower garden — wooyoung]
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inspired by: stranger than friends — webtoon
in which: all wooyoung wants is someone to love him.
pair: college student!wooyoung/gn!reader
word count: 1.6k
content: fluff, childish and immature (but trustworthy) wooyoung, a lot of drunk wooyoung, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of swearing
rating: PG/PG-13 | safe for work!
flower garden masterlist
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"I'm so over this! I hate love!"
"Jung Wooyoung, I swear to God—"
"No, Kang Yeosang, you don't understand! I am tired! I am tired of being alone! I'm tired of seeing the four of you dating and having the time of your lives while me? Wither poor fucking Wooyoung," a very drunk Wooyoung exclaimed at the top of his lungs.
"I think you're going to have a hard time because of, well, this," San pointed out— he thought he was being helpful, but he most certainly was not.
"Shut the fuck up, Choi San," the drunken boy mumbled before taking a giant swig from the shared vodka bottle sitting in the middle of the group.
"Sure, because none of us wanted more vodka," Yunho grimaced.
Wooyoung shot the boy a stink eye before falling to the ground. He was fine— he was just being dramatic and falling to the ground like a damsel in distress. The boys knew this routine of his at this point, and instead of console him like the had done countless times in the past, they just ignored him.
"Seriously, Wooyoung. I didn't find my significant other by acting like this," Mingi said with a gentle sigh. "You gotta change this attitude of yours."
"What attitude?"
"This one! This childish and immature ass of yours!" Yeosang blew up; he was honestly extremely tired of hearing Wooyoung sing the same fucking song over and over again for however long they had been friends.
"What, so I should act like fucking Mr. Prim-and-Proper over here? Or like Mr. Humble-Gentleman over there? I'm not a fucking flower boy," Wooyoung frowned as he pointed to Yunho and San respectively.
"No, you don't have to change who you are, but you could maybe try not acting like a spoiled brat and more like a grown adult," Yunho explained.
"But I'm not a grown adult. I'm a college student. We all are college students. You guys need to act your age."
Then, Wooyoung launched into one of his long rants, making the other four boys officially give up for the night. Talking to a drunk Wooyoung was like talking to an annoying, drunk wall. They just let him burn himself out and continued drinking peacefully amongst each other the second Wooyoung passed out for the night.
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The next morning, Wooyoung woke up with the most insane hangover— he had never had a hangover before, so he was honestly shocked and scared.
"I'm gettin' too old for this crud," he started that morning as he plopped himself in the barstool near the kitchen.
"Shut the fuck up. You're a college student," Yunho, who was the first one up that morning, retorted while making his morning coffee. "But you could ease up on the alcohol."
"Gee, you think?"
"Anyway," Yunho side-stepped Wooyoung's heavy sarcasm. "Do you remember anything from last night?"
"Of course I do," Wooyoung said without a hint of sarcasm this time around. "I always remember. I may be drunk, but I'm still mentally there."
"Right. Well, consider it. If you seriously want to be in a relationship, then not acting like a kid may help. People like more mature and serious guys."
"As if you know dating culture so well," Wooyoung scoffed.
"Mmm, considering I've been dating my significant other for five years, I'd say that I know how dating and relationships work by now. More than you for sure."
Wooyoung glared at the tall boy as he smiled smugly at him before heading out of the kitchen to start his day. Checking the time, Wooyoung grumbled to himself as he got himself ready for class. As much as he would love to skip the class he had, it was a lab, and he didn't want to screw over his lab partner. He might've been childish and immature, but you could always trust him to be there at least.
And thankfully for him and his blinding headache, this lab was a darkfield microscopy, which meant that the entire lab was going to be dark. Right before class, he popped a couple of painkillers and stepped into the room to see that they were assigned new lab partners. At first, Wooyoung was resentful because his lab partner was the literal best in dealing with him and his shenanigans, but the second Wooyoung saw who his partner was, he was thanking all the immortal entities in the universe.
He thought it could've been his drunk mind, but you were the most stunning person he had ever met. You were gorgeous with your hair tucked back, and even with the lab goggles on, you had the most beautiful eyes that Wooyoung could spot from miles away. Every single thing you did was so elegant and so graceful, and even though all you were doing was dropping blood onto the slide, it was the most magical thing he had ever seen in his entire life.
What he loved even more was that you would play into his antics. The lab was pretty quiet, so Wooyoung would whisper random jokes here and there to you, and you would respond with the most beautiful chuckle that made his heart swoon over and over and over again. Wooyoung was smitten, obsessed, and dare he say it—
"I'm in love!" Wooyoung cheered at the top of his lungs.
It was boys night again, and this time, Wooyoung was drunk, but he was happy.
"You're weirding me out, lowkey," San watched Wooyoung with wary eyes as he twirled around the dorm.
"San, you don't understand," Wooyoung sighed blissfully. "My lab partner is just... God, my lab partner is perfect. Also! Also, their name!"
He repeated your name, the syllables rolling off his tongue smoothly, your name leaving his lips like a knife cutting through warm butter. And for the rest of the night, that's all he could do. He just kept saying the name of the person he was completely in love with, pissing off his friends in a new way.
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Alas, the lab had to end, and Wooyoung feared that you would never speak to him again. You had shared a microscope for a solid two weeks, but neither of you thought to ask to exchange phone numbers. Wooyoung wanted to, don't get him wrong, but every time he thought about doing it, he would chicken out because his heart would be racing at a million miles an hour, and he didn't want you to reject him or for him to have a heart attack just because he was going to ask someone out.
"You just need to ask. It's so simple," Mingi tried helping Wooyoung before he had to go to class.
"Wow, it's as if I didn't consider doing that. Thanks," Wooyoung, using his signature sarcasm, replied.
"Just rip the bandaid off, dude. I don't know what else to tell you. If they reject you, then you just move on. If not, then hooray, your efforts paid off."
"Also, you usually have no shame screaming at the top of your lungs while we're out in public drinking, so why are you finding it so hard to ask someone out?" Yeosang asked.
"Are you saying I should drink then ask them out?"
"No!" both boys chorused at the same time.
"Fucking— Just be yourself, Wooyoung," Yeosang said with a deep sigh. "Just give them a fucking flower and tell them you like them with a dumb joke that you usually make."
"But, I thought you told me I should change? That I should be more mature because people don't like childish, immature guys."
"Don't make me punch you. Get the fuck out, go to class, and for the love of God, just ask."
With Yeosang's words in mind, Wooyoung did exactly that. He was confident and outgoing, so asking you out shouldn't have been as big of a task as he was making it. So, he summoned up all of the courage within him, and he vowed to himself to do it that day.
"Wait! Wait," Wooyoung stopped you after class one day. "I... I want to ask you something."
"What's up?"
"So... Oh my fucking God, I don't know how to say this," Wooyoung muttered to himself, unaware that you could hear him. "Why the fuck is it so hard for me to tell you I like you?"
"I like you too, Wooyoung," you helped him out.
"Oh fuck, you heard that?" Wooyoung covered his mouth, his face turning bright red. "I'm going to jump out the window I'm so embarrassed!"
"Oh my God, Wooyoung! I said I like you too! You don't need to do that!" you couldn't help but laugh when Wooyoung actually turned to look for the nearest window to fling himself out of.
"W-Wait... You like me too?"
"Yeah, I do," you shot him the cutest smile that made him clutch his chest and nearly fall over. "I just didn't want to say anything because... Well, I was unsure because you seem to be like this around everyone, and—"
"No! I'm glad that... That you like me too... And I was wondering..." Wooyoung started mumbling again, his nerves taking over once more despite knowing that his feelings were mutual.
"Here's my phone. Give me your number," you stepped in again, making him wonder if you were reading his mind or if he was talking loud enough under his breath or if you were his freaking soulmate.
Wooyoung's fingers trembled as he typed in his phone number and handed your phone back to you.
"I'll text you," you said, that beautiful smile of yours only getting bigger, your face only getting more sparkly. "Maybe you'll find better words over text."
God, Wooyoung was ready to fall over when you giggled and waved good bye to him, the lovestruck boy motionless in the classroom as he watched the actual love of his life glide out of the room.
"I'm so in love! I love love!"
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flower garden masterlist
flower garden taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @khjoongie98
networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @newworldnet @wonderlandnet
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doumadono · 2 days
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Hiiiii! I am squeezing into your inbox to
1. Congratulate you on your achievement. You deserved it sweetheart and I am so happy for you (maybe even a lil jealous! Hihi). Keep up the wonderful work and keep bringing joy and comfort to other people!
2. To request something!
I want some Vanilla-Mango ice creams in a cup with Maple syrup.
All of this for my one and only bunny Mirko! 🐇🤍I love ya girl!
Stay awesome!
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A/N: thank you so much, honeypot! Your support means everything. I hope you'll like this short piece, and please forgive me if the character isn't quite right — it's my first time writing for Bunny Hero Mirko! ♥
5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST MY HERO ACADEMIA
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The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the city, painting the buildings with shades of gold and amber. You were walking through the park, lost in thought, when you spotted Mirko sitting on a bench, her prosthetic leg resting beside her. Her expression was distant, her eyes fixed on something far away.
Approaching her, you noticed the faint lines of pain etched on her face. You knew about her recent struggles with phantom pains, the cruel reminders of the limbs she had lost during the war. "Hey, Mirko," you greeted softly, taking a seat beside her.
She glanced at you, offering a small, weary smile. "Hey, Y/N," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion.
"Is everything alright?" you inquired, concern coloring your words as you noticed the faint lines of strain etched upon her face.
Mirko sighed, her gaze returning to the horizon. "Just another rough day, I guess," she admitted, her fingers tracing the contours of her prosthetic leg. "The phantom pains have been acting up again."
You reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Rumi. That sounds really tough."
She looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. "It is," she admitted. "It's like… I can still feel them, you know? My missing arm and leg. Sometimes, it's like they're still there, and it hurts so much…"
You squeezed her shoulder gently, offering your support. "I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must be for you. But I'm here for you, okay? You're not alone. You never were, sweetie."
Mirko's eyes softened, and she leaned into your touch, finding solace in your presence. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
You hurried to a nearby store to grab two bottles of water and some mochi. When you returned, you paused behind a large tree, watching Mirko.
She was someone you deeply admired, one of the few people who truly inspired you. Her toughness was unmatched, and secretly, you yearned to possess even a fraction of her spirit, to be as brave as she was. She was your role model.
You spent the rest of the afternoon with Mirko, talking, laughing, and sharing stories, sitting on that bench. You listened as she opened up about her fears and insecurities, her dreams and aspirations. And through it all, you were there for her, offering words of encouragement and comfort.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the park, Mirko turned to you, her eyes shining with gratitude. "You know," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "even on my darkest days, knowing that I have you by my side makes everything a little bit brighter."
You smiled, feeling your heart swell with warmth. "And you make everything brighter for me too, Mirko. You're strong, resilient, and incredibly brave. I admire you so much."
Mirko's smile widened, and she reached out, taking your hand in hers. "Thank you," she said softly. "That means the world to me. After Jaku and the war, things really shifted," she said, her brow creasing slightly. "It's not like it broke me, but I've been feeling more uncertain. About everything, really. Even my own abilities."
You met Mirko's gaze with a gentle smile. "Rumi," you began softly, squeezing her hand in reassurance, "you have no idea how many lives you've touched with your bravery. In the chaos of Jaku and the war, you were a beacon of hope for so many. Every leap you took, every punch you threw, they weren't just acts of courage — they were beacons of light in the darkness for all those who lost their hope. You saved countless lives with your unwavering determination and your indomitable spirit. Never doubt your abilities, my dear Rabbit Hero Mirko," you urged gently, your words a steadfast anchor amidst the uncertainty. "You are a hero in every sense of the word, and the world is a brighter place because of you. The echoes of your courage will never fade."
Mirko leaned into you, resting her head on your shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice tinged with emotion. "I think that's exactly what I needed to hear today."
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I have found a beautiful perfect humble rock specimen that is light yellow with a weird dark yellowy brown lining, somewhat resembling a chunk of smoked gouda cheese... effervescent
#I am still very into trash collecting at the moment and even went out and got one of those grabby sticks for cheap and a little#bucket I can carry around and put trash in. so I am going on walks in nature a bit more (not really to enjoy nature but more to play the#very fun Real Life Hidden Object Point And Click Game that is 'hunt for bottle caps and cans' .. but eh.. whatever gets me out of the#house lol).. anyway.. some nature places near water will have cool rocks#Which I know you're not supposed to take them and I MOSTLY dont.. but every once in a while it's like... when else will I ever find a#gouda rock... I have cleaned up 4 buckets of trash today.. I have helped the environment.. mayhaps.. i could take a One Single Rocke as a#treate... ANYWAY. but yeah. I don't know the names of rocks but there's a rock that's a matte muted marigold yellow sort of#color and I call them 'cheese rock'. I'm pretty sure this one is of the 'cheese rock' species but it just has weird brown coloration#like maybe it got stained or something on one side of it. Most of the other cheese rocks have no markings. though sometimes there will be a#auburn reddish sort of hue on a corner or something.. hrmm.. curious. I also got a Beginner's Hobby rock tumbler and some supplies#so I might try polishing some of the rocks from my enormous rock collection. even though they're all street rocks I picked up from sidewalk#and stuff. I saw a video where someone put random gravel and stuff in a rock tumbler and none of them were Stunning Gems or whatver#but some still turned out cool enough that I would be pleased with the result... OUgh.. I want to post more I need to like do costumes and#sculptures and stuff and be Active On Social Media and think about my Future and Career and how it always benefits artists to keep an#active social media or etc. but I just feel so tired and bad lately. I think the summer heat waves have really exhausted me. I also have#been trying to make new friends + on a weird schedule so I've been socializing and also watching media too much. I notice I always start#to feel this kind of unsettled stress of not making any forward progress in my life if I do that for too long. like 'Okay this week I've#done nothing but meet up with two friends & watch like 10 episodes of tv and only worked on a few projects on the side.. this is HORRIBLE!'#(ppl who follow me here that I talk to on discord: this isn't about you! Im specifically just referencing being tired of introductory talks#with a new round of random strangers during my Friend Hunt. Just clarifying so it couldn't be misinterpreted as vaguepost implying that I'm#secretly bothered by talking to you or etc. lol.. anyway) . Which I know to MOST people 'I talked to a lot of friends and watched some cool#stuff!' sounds like a GOOD relaxing time but.. to me it is not ghhj.. Those are 'external' focuses on things outside myself which bothers#me if not moderated. Like.. i MUST retreat internally to work on my worldbuilding and my own thoughts and etc. at very regular intervals or#it will really start to bear on me too much. Brain Mandated Hermit Isolation lol. Just being too detached from my world and stuff for#too long feels increasingly bad. PLUS. every day I don't make tangible progress towards my goals is a day wasted that I could have been#investing in my future by working on novels/games/sculptures/actual career relevant stuff. Not even in a Capitalism way i just genuinely#enjoy Completing Tasks & feel miserable if I don't for too long. EVEN the media I'm watching I turn into A Task since I rank in a detailed#google doc list after viewing lol.. Like EW movie too boring on it's own. NEED to turn it into something I can categorize and analyze ghghj#LOVE to make things more complicated than they need to be. like YAAAY organizational tasks! yaay meticulous sorting!! BOO ''mindless fun''!
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thschei · 2 months
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Btw uh I think it's kind of obvious, but if anyone's wondering
I've been putting my URL over photos because I don't want any gimmick blogs to save and repost them. It's one thing for a low quality picture of a bunny I saw in the yard, but if any of my pet pics were reposted I'd find it really disrespectful
We only have a really short time with our pets, so anyone who wants to get clout by reposting a picture of an animal I view as family should at least ask permission or have a watermark in their way
I know there's methods to remove watermarks, but at least this way it takes more effort than 3 clicks to repost one of my photos
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hailtotheskull · 2 years
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and To Be Honest it is always quite hard isn't it?
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sophiamcdougall · 7 months
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I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again
I mean, I am. But still.
So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.
So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.
At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.
Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell
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So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.
I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.
This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.
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Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.
I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.
Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.
We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.
"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."
"A what," he asks.
"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"
"Oh! A turtle!" he says.
"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.
The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.
"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.
"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.
"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.
"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??
The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?
I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.
"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."
"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.
"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!
So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.
(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)
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pseudowho · 2 months
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Stoic
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When Gojo assumes Nanami Kento's lack of PDA for the reader shows a lack of desire for her, a tipsy Kento is quick to correct him.
Warnings: 18+ drabble, Kento goes on a smutty rant
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'A quick drink' after work had soon turned into two, three, four. Shoko took full advantage of the rooftop bar's balcony, smoking and idly chatting; Higuruma and Atsuya gossipped and quipped, snorting into their drinks; Satoru observed Kento and you keenly behind his dark lens; you stood, excusing yourself to the bathroom as Kento gave you a gentle smile.
"I'm sorry," Satoru interrupted loudly when you were gone, his pot boiling over, "I just-- I just don't get it, Nanami." All eyes were on Satoru and Kento now-- Kento, with one thin eyebrow raised in quiet disdain at Satoru, and Satoru, with his elbows planted forward on his knees in challenge.
A few moments of silence. Kento huffed, "Should I be apologising for someth--"
"--you've been together for years," Satoru interrupted, "and I'm just not convinced. She could be-- she could be a coat rack for all the affection you show her, you're supposed to not be able to keep your hands off her--"
"--you want me to grope my fiancée in public, am I correct--"
"--well maybe, anything to show that you love her--"
Kento laughed out loud, deep and humourless, continuing to chuckle into his glass, scoffing to himself; "Love her," he rumbled, swirling his whiskey, amber eyes flickering and carnal in the firelight.
Shoko had turned, smirking, to watch the scene. Atsuya leaned back, scowling, chewing on a toothpick with crossed arms. Hiromi leaned, glimmer-eyed, into the drama, one hand cupping his jaw and the other clasping his wineglass. He picked up the bottle, slowly beginning to pour another glass.
"I don't love her," Kento spat, downing his glass of whiskey in one smooth swallow, hissing and slamming the glass down on the table, "I worship her. I'm obsessed with her."
Satoru was silent, mulish, as Kento continued.
"I would walk through rains of bullets for her," he mused aloud, "I would cut off fingers with blunt knives--"
"Nanami, alright, I'm sorry--"
"Any second I'm not with her," Kento continued, his voice quieter, darker, the group leaning into him, "is a second wasted. I don't know what point there was in the years I spent without her-- probably just there to build me into even a semblance of the man she deserves--"
"--why are we doing this--"
"-- and when I'm not thinking about talking to her, watching her, being near her, holding her, or-- fuck, just having her look at me goes bone-deep...I spend at least eighty-percent of my time thinking about different ways to make her cum--"
Satoru was blushing now, his face in his hands, while the others leaned into Kento's mild breakdown with awe, "--fucking hell Nanami, I didn't mean--"
"I almost died last week, at work," Kento mused, as a laughing Hiromi slid the glass of wine down the table to Kento, which he caught seamlessly, "because I was too busy thinking about how her mouth had felt around my cock the night before, because I was pondering the many applications for my tie, because I was thinking about how incredible she felt underneath me--"
Atsuya and Shoko whispered together, Hiromi now giggling to himself unashamedly; "Oh he's really going for it--" "I know I know, shhh, let him finish--"
"--and I've been sat here with her all evening, resisting the urge to strip her, tie her wrists together and have her ride me until I go fucking blind, all because of social-fucking-propriety, just for some long streak of jizz like you to say I clearly don't love her--"
Satoru had shrunk in on himself now, his soul quietly leaving his body, mortified and put to rights as Kento tsked, swirling his wine before downing that, too. He accepted the bottle Hiromi slid towards him in approval.
"...it really just is rather rude and presumptuous of you, isn't it, Gojo?"
The group sat in stunned silence as you returned, sitting beside Kento and laying a hand on his crossed knees. You felt the bizarre tension; Hiromi unable to conceal a blush as he looked at you, Shoko giving you a knowing smile around her cigarette, Atsuya unable to make eye contact. You smiled uncertainly.
"...what did I miss?"
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Still waters run deep 💀💀💀
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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months
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Do you have any advice and how to write a long fic?
I'll encourage long fic writers to add on in the notes, but as someone who tends to prefer short and medium-length fic, I'll tell you how I go about it.
Get a premise that you just absolutely love. You're going to be writing this thing for months, if not longer, so you want it to be something you're willing to spend a lot of time thinking about.
Embrace subplots. You'll have your main plotline that you want to see through from beginning to end, but you can also weave in some subplots here or there. The way I do this so that I don't get lost down a rabbit hole is that I always make sure that every chapter has at least 1 thing that moves the main plot forward and then if I want to spend 1-2K with some side characters doing something fun I can do that as well. Subplots can extend for the length of the full narrative, but they can also just last a chapter or three. If you're used to writing short fic, these might give you that familiar feeling of "completion"
A chapter is only as long as it needs to be. Don't get hung up on having a consistent chapter length. Don't get hung up on hitting some arbitrary number every time. Instead, figure out what the next part of your story needs to include and write however many words it takes to get that chunk across. Varying your chapter lengths is a normal thing to do and not something to stress about.
The next thing that I find important personally may or may not be relevant to you, but I find that I can't plot anything in much detail. If I get too into the nitty gritty with my plotting, it just feels like I've already written it. I need to keep it at the level of "And then A and B meet C and hijinks ensue." I can figure out the particular hijinks later. It's the characters meeting up that's the next important thing for me to figure out. Getting too far ahead of myself is a death knell for me in writing long fics, but there are other writers who swear by it. Test out different ways of approaching it and see what works for you.
As someone who tends to write more briefly, another feature that's common to longer fics is more extensive descriptions. People spend time painting visual pictures of the setting or the characters or the actions that are happening. Write the more bare-bones style that focuses more on dialogue (if you're like me) and then go back and read through what you've just written and see if there are opportunities to add in more detail. This can lead to some really interesting characterization choices and also help you out with worldbuilding.
When it comes to worldbuilding, you don't have to get it all on the page. You just need to share what's relevant for the reader in that moment and what is useful to lay out now so that it's already there in a future chapter. You can have an encyclopedic knowledge of how your world works in your head, but it's not actually necessary. No one is going to be quizzing you later - and if they do, you can always figure it out at that point.
Most important for me when I'm trying to get myself to the end of a longer fic, have a friend or a group of friends who are also into what you're writing - or at least willing to hear you get excited about it. Being able to get excited about your work is so important. It's like a bottle of water being handed to you on mile 10 of a marathon.
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nanaslutt · 4 months
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male squirting.... Satoru being overstimulated to the brink of tears ? 😵‍💫♡
contains: fem reader, kiinnndaaaa sub gojo :3, whiny gojo, hand jobs, overstimulation, squirting, multiple orgasms, praise, so much dirty talk, dacraphillia, lots of talk of cum
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
You were scrolling through Twitter and came across a video of a man tied to a chair, naked. A pair of hands that were neatly manicured was jerking him off rapidly, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of his cock. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen on twitter before, but twenty seconds later you would see something new. The woman was jerking him after his orgasm, the man whining and crying, his body trying to jerk away from her touch as he was pushed into overstimulation.
He started pleading with her to slow down, saying something felt weird, and that's when it happened, he squirted. It looked so intense, his body trembling and hunching over as he screamed through another forced orgasm. You squeezed your thighs together feeling yourself grow aroused between your legs, a vivid image popping into your head of trying this with Satoru. You replayed the video over a couple times, pretending the faceless pale man in the chair was your boyfriend, even though they shared no resemblance to one another.
You were sure Satoru would be up to trying something like this, the two of you had a very adventurous sex life and were always sharing new ideas with the other on fun things you could do in the bedroom, and this looked very fun. You quickly copied the link and switched to messages, sending it to your boyfriend who was currently at work. You hoped he wouldn't see your message until he had a break, but you had sent him worse things during worse moments, so it would be fine.
Moments after you had sent the video to Satoru, your phone lit up with his name big and bold on the screen, vibrating in your hand. "Satoru? Why are you calling me at work?" You asked, pressing your phone to your ear. "Tell me you want to do that to me, thats why you sent me that right?" He asked rushed, excitement laced in his tone. From the backround noise from Gojo's end of the call of birds chirping and leaves rusting through the trees with no voices besides his to be heard, you guessed he was supervising sparing and had stepped away.
"I dont think I need to ask if you want to try it then~" You laughed into the receiver. Gojo was currently leaning his head back against a building of Jujutsu high, his eyes scrunched shut as he imagined your hands on him, overstimulating him like the woman had done in the video. "Are you kidding? I'm all over that~" He cracked his eyes open, a smile gracing his features. "My pretty girlfriend making me squirt? didn't even know that was possible, I've been missing out." He sighed.
"Wanna give it a go tonight then? Wouldn't want you to miss out any longer." You said teasingly, biting your lip as you pressed your thighs together once more. "Why wait that long? I get off in an hour, I'll see you and your pretty hands then~" Gojo said singsong like into the phone. The two of you said your goodbyes before you ended the call, your fingers taking you back to the video so you could watch it over and over again, picking up some techniques the woman used that you could use on Satoru."
--
"She used a lot of lube so.. this is gonna get messy." You said, popping open the lid to the lube bottle you kept on your side table. Gojo was laid down on the bed, a towel under his ass as you sat on his thighs, one hand stroking his cute leaking cock, while your other squeezed the plastic bottle, watching the slippery substance drip down onto his cock in thick strands.
Gojo hissed when the cold lubricant came into contact with his dick, keeping his eyes on your slender hands wrapping around him. "If you make me squirt it's gonna get a hell of a lot messier too~" Gojo chimed in, biting his lip when you used one of your hands to wrap around his tip, rolling it around in circular motions in your palm, the other slowly jerking the rest of his massive length. "You will," you assured him, your eyes sliding up to make contact with his.
"Gotta say the safeword If it gets too much, kay Toru?" You asked, making sure he acknowledged your words before things got too intense. "Yeah yeah, F-fuuuck, I won't though~ I can take it." He said confidently, flashing you a cocky smile as you slowly and steadily jerked him off.
"Fuck.." Gojo murmured under his breath, his eyes dropping as he watched you work slowly on his dick, the copious amount of lube you used creating a loud and vulgar slick noise every time your hands moved on him. "It's so wet," Gojo groaned. You could feel his thighs flexing under your ass as he started getting into it. "Yeah? Does it feel good?" You asked, picking up the speed of both your hands a bit. "Yeah.. fuck- feels like I'm inside you." Gojo groaned, his jaw falling open and his breath picking up as he watched you jerk him off, both of your hands now screwing down the length of his cock together, making sure to squeeze at the tip.
"I feel this wet?" You almost laughed, taking note of how the lube coated his balls and was steadily dripping down the insides of his thighs. "You're wetter." He smirked back, his smile quickly fading when you paused one of your hands, opting to rub right under the head of his cock while the other kept jerking him off. You bit your lip, noticing how his eyes were rolling back in his head. "Feel good right here, Toru?" You asked, pressing your thumb into his frenulum with more force, a shaky whimper leaving his lips.
"So fucking good," Satoru praised, pulling his hip between his teeth. You slid the pad of your thumb from his frenulum to the slit on his tip in a smooth rhythm, up and down, up and down, making Satoru groan through clenched teeth. "Oh fuck- keep fucking doing that- sh-it." Gojo was humping his hips into your fist, chasing the stimulation, making your body bounce slightly on top of his thighs. "Satoru quit moving, let me do all the work." You spoke softly, giving his shaft harsh strokes that made him whine.
"Okay- okay, baby- just please don't stop, please." He replied with an aroused smile plastered on his face. You giggled at his desperation, continuing your ministrations on his cock so he didn't grow any needier. "I won't Toru, I got you~" you assured. His head flopped back onto the pillows with a groan when you started stroking him with both hands once again, rotating your hands up and down the length of his cock, making the coil in his tummy rapidly tighten itself up.
"Fuck- fuck me baby fuck-" Satoru whined through his teeth, the words strung together as he tipped his head down, nodding as you jerked his cock quick and rough, making his body wiggle around on the sheets. "You like that? Like when I jerk you off like this?" You cooed, biting your lip as you darted your eyes back and forth between his flushed cock and his pretty face scrunched up in pleasure.
Your words went straight to his cock, if you weren't gripping him so hard you might've been able to feel how hard he twitched in your hands. "God I fucking love it, baby, makin' me feel so g-good." Gojo groaned through his teeth. He really wanted to keep watching you but he physically could not keep his head up anymore. He let his head fall back into the pillows once more, screwing his eyes shut as he let you work him up to his high. "Shit.. I feel it coming pretty girl.." Your boyfriend let you know, his breathing picking up when he felt his balls start to tighten, the warmth in his belly growing warmer and warmer, all telltale signs of his orgasm approaching.
"You got this baby, gonna fuck you through it and you're gonna take what I give you like a good boy, isn't that right?" You spoke sweetly, a teasing tilt to your voice as you hyped him up. He nodded his head against the pillows, keeping his eyes shut, face still screwed in pleasure, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to brace himself for what was to come. "Gonna take it, 'm your good boy, baby~" Satoru responded, trying to smile through his arousal.
You felt his warm cock pulse strongly against your fingers at the same time his breathing stilled, right before the first rope of his cum shot out of his dick and splattered onto his abdomen. Gojo groaned loudly through his teeth, his body jerking inwards at every wave of his orgasm. "Yeah~ Good boy, just like that, keep cumming for me Toru~" You praised, jerking your hands rapidly over his dick, coating your fingers and his cock in his cum, mixing with the lube already smothered on his cock.
"Shit- s-shit- nnghhh-" Gojo groaned through his orgasm, his hips jerking up into your hand as he came. You continued to stroke him through the aftershocks of his high, which was bearable for the first four seconds before he started fighting the pleasure you were giving him. Whines and gasps were being pulled from his lips when you didn't slow down your hands on his cock, keeping up the mean rough pace on his length, simultaneously twisting your palm over his too-sensitive cockhead.
His hips jerked back, into the sheets as he tried to excape your ruthless hands, his chin shot down to his chest as he watched you sit on top of him, lip pulled between your teeth as you tried to work him through his overstimulation. "Ffffffuck!" He finally vocalized, his entire body thrashing and twitching agaisnt the sheets, knees trying to curl upwards, thighs pressing together, anything to excape the overbearing pleasure that wouldn't stop coming.
"You're doing so good baby, so good, don't fight it." You talked him through it, trying to get his overwhelmed brain to slow down. "Oh-ohmygod it's too much-" He cried, his hands heaving the pillows he was gripping next to his head and slapping down on your thighs, digging his nails into the skin there. You swear you saw tears forming in his eyes before he screwed them shut once more, his jaw falling slack as he turned his head back and forth against the pillows, he looked so hot like this.
"You wanna squirt don't you baby? I thought you could take it, must not want it that bad." You teased, trying a different method to instill the confidence in him that he needed in this moment to get through this. "N-no I want it- wanna- wanna squirt-" He whined, his breathing starting to even out, his overstimulation must be fizzling out. "That's right, that's my good boy Toru." You smirked proudly down at him, finally noticing your own arousal that was throbbing between your legs.
"Goddd~ l-love when you call me that~" He giggled, his eyes cracking open as he tilted his head to the side so he could see you, keeping his head pressed into the pillows. You giggled before rubbing your thumb against his frenulum again. His breath hitched, his nails digging into your thigh right before cum shot out of his cock again, weaker this time. The ropes of his seed barely made it to his abdomen, most of it coating your fingers and easing the slide over his cock, making it impossibly more slippery.
"You really like it right here, huh?" You asked, continuing to massage the spot in little circles as you worked his seed out of his shaft. Gojo's body jerked forward, his legs shaking with the intensity of his second orgasm so soon after the first. He stayed silent, his mouth agape as he let you work him through his high. He came down with a gasp, greedily swallowing air into his lungs, panting when he was once again granted the short intermission before his cock was assaulted with your hands overstimulating him.
This time, you did see the tears fall down his cheeks when you didn't stop. The squelches emitting from his cock were sooo loud, so lewd, you guaranteed if you pulled your panties down right now, they would be flooded. The lube and cum created such a mess on your fingers as you rapidly stroked over him, your hand looking like a blur from how fast your pace was. One of Gojo's hands gripped your wrist harshly, almost stopping the movements completely. Good thing you had another hand, you used it to rotate over his tip, slightly punishing him for trying to stop you.
"Baby s-stop- stop I c-cant I c-cant do it-" Gojo cried, fat tears falling over his flushed cheeks, wetting the hair on the side of his face. He didn't say the safeword, but he sounded so desperate so you slowed your hand ever so slightly before you spoke, "This is gonna be the one Toru, just one more and you're gonna squirt for me, promise." You encouraged, nodding at him when he cracked his lids open, teary eyes locking onto yours. "Ohhhhmygod I don't know If- Ugh-" He tried protesting, raking his nails into your thighs.
"You can do it, you're so close baby, so close, it's gonna feel so fucking good." His hand had loosened his grip on your wrist, his head weakly nodding at your words. "I- I think I'm gonna cum already-" His words cut off with a whine, his chest heaving as he took sharp breaths into his lungs, high-pitched wines spilling from his lips as he felt his third orgasm come on. This time it felt a little different, it felt deeper, stronger, he couldn't really explain it, all he could do was take the painful pleasure, letting your hands milk him dry as his tired body tried its best to relax against the sheets.
The towel under his ass was already soaked with cum and lube, and you figured it was about to get a whole lot wetter, you weren't sure why you bothered putting a towel down in the first place.
Gojo started leaking under your thumb, a substance thinner than his cum spurting out of his cock in little amounts. "Baby- baby fuck- It- I cant- I cant-" He wined, losing his composure when he felt it creep over him. This new sensation was taking over his whole body, everything from the tips of his toes to his ears felt flushed, he felt like he was suffocating with how hard it was to take a good breath into his lungs, the feeling making him hyperventilate.
"You can, I got you, baby, I'm right here, let it out, squirt for me Toru~" You encouraged, jerking him off with more vigor, continuing to rub your thumb over his frenulum and flushed tip, steadily leaking the liquid. His thighs rapidly clenched under yours, his chin dropping to his chest to watch his dick, his intense eyes waiting to see something miraculous happen right when his orgasm hit. And fuck did something happen.
A clear liquid sprayed out of his cock, the stream coming out stuttered as you jerked him through it, moaning with him. "Oh my god you're doing it baby, good fucking job, fucking give it to me Toru~" You groaned, slamming your hands down on the length of his cock, fucking his orgasm out of him. He was being so loud, you were lucky your neighbors lived a good distance away, or they might call the cops because it seriously sounded like someone was being tortured, and in a way, he was.
His body shook and trembled, even after you slowed your hands on him. Tears streamed down his bright red face as his eyes fought to stay forward in their sockets, his hands weakly twitching against your thighs, nails digging into the skin. You leaned forward, wiping your hands off on the bed sheets before you took his teary face in your hands, pressing kisses to his open mouth, sweaty forehead, blushed nose, anywhere your lips could touch.
"Good boy Toru, good fucking boy." You giggled, wiping his tear-soaked hair away from his face as his glossy eyes made eye contact with yours, his hands wrapping around your waist. "How did that feel? Was it everything you thought it would be?" You giggled. His body twitched under you, your boyfriend's chest still heaving up and down rapidly. "Better, I love you, l-love you." He stuttered, closing his eyes as you pressed kisses to his tearstain cheeks and eyelids.
"C-couldn't have done that without you." He whispered, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing your weight onto him, his sticky cock sticking to your clothes in the process, but you would worry about that later, Satoru needed your utmost attention to calm down right now. "I love you too, my amazing boy~" You praised, letting him pull you tighter, your head digging into his neck as you pressed little kisses into the skin there.
5K notes · View notes
tsurangaconundrum · 3 months
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panem dash simulator
peeniss4everlark Follow
NOOOOOOOOOO
officialsenecacrane Follow
me when i lie
districtfun Follow
i heard from my uncle who works at hunger games that they're only pulling from everlark shippers when they do the quarter quell
gurlonfire
thats funny because when i was fucking your uncle last night he told me they're only pulling from bitchy district one stans
catohead69 Follow
we poppin the biggest bottles when cato wins
catohead69 Follow
theeclove Follow
okay but is anyone else pissed how the district 11 guy literally did favoritism for late districts or what
rues-song
the careers literally did an alliance r u fucking kidding me i hope u get reaped
theeclove
clearly SOMEBODY doesnt understand the strategy of the games
career-sweep Follow
PLEASE tag your hunger games spoilers. this is literally common sense the games have been going on for 74 years you should know better by now
#hunger games spoilers #SOOO pissed rn theres never been a live announcement and now i found out from fucking everlarks
maytheodds Follow
Yes I'm a 30 yr old hunger games watcher. I've been watching kids die since you were in diapers. You have NO idea the tragedies I've endured. Hunger games is escapism for many of us when I come home from a long day of logging the last thing I need is for some 13 yr old tribute dying in a high stakes competition that we ALL knew was high stakes starting a riot and destroying all the nations grain
corholeanussnow
lmao. get a load of this guy
girlalcoholic Follow
haymitch stans rise tf up
#yes girl get that salve #i would fuck that old man
cinnagirl3000 Follow
i wld nvr survive in thg fr baby im killing myself
#thnk goddddd im cap 😁 #i woulda stepped tf off that platform cinna its been an honor
caeserflickerwoman Follow
does anyone else think it was fucked that peeta invaded ceasar's space when he CLEARLY wasn't comfortable with being SNIFFED by a STRANGER
softgreenpillow
fuck you this is clearly so fucking capitol-centric no one in the capitol would ever be comfortable with any districtperson doing ANYTHING these days. it is capitol-boot-licking scum like you that holds the movement back. get BLOCKED idiot
butchjohanna Follow
Just something I've noticed I think we as a fandom have gotten WAY too comfortable using the phrase "get reaped" as an insult, when it's a very serious reality that many children live with and should not be taken this lightly. Some people online have had to put their names in more for necessities like bread or water and the absolute terror that grips a person waiting for their name to be called doesn't leave you even in adulthood. Please think before you speak
#many of you are not acting in a way that johanna would be proud of. get it together #reaping mention
starcrossedluvrs Follow
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undressrehearsal · 3 months
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dare to be stupid
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summary: a drunken game of truth or dare overtakes your study session
tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs, alcohol, drunk sex, oral (r receiving)
a/n: listen idk how this turned into 7.5k. idk what happened. also this is my first time writing smut. idk if the sex is good but it was already so long. if y'all like this one i'll write a sequel or something idk
part 2
“Truth or dare?” 
It had become a tradition for the two of you shortly after moving in together. It was common for the air in your tiny apartment to grow heavy, the stress and anxiety tangible in the air - often around midterms or finals, or if your roommate had a particularly infuriating project. During these times when the bags under your eyes grew too heavy to carry or the lines around your roommate's mouth deepened into canyons, one of you would barge into the other's bedroom - frequently in disarray with notes and textbooks strewn across every surface - slam a bottle of vodka down on the desk, and utter those stupid, little three words, and the game would begin.
And so you didn't even jump when you heard your bedroom door slam against the wall, heavy boots against the carpet. You had been bent over your desk for so long that your neck ached, your eyes swimming with letters that didn't quite make sense and didn't fit into any of the medical terms laid out on your flashcards. When Ellie slammed the bottle of vodka on your desk, you blinked your eyes clear and looked up to meet her eyes. 
She smirked when she said, “Truth or dare?” 
You didn't waste time in clearing off your desk, shoving your books and cards aside into a toppling pile. Ellie, without waiting for permission, set a shot glass down in front of you, kicked off her boots, and plopped back onto your bed. 
Scooting your chair closer, you propped your feet up against the mattress, pursed your lips, and said, “Truth.” 
Ellie groaned, flopping over onto her side and propping her chin in her hand. She had stripped off her jacket, leaving her in a dark t-shirt that almost made her skin look pale in the low light from your desk lamp. “You're such a fucking pussy.” 
You rolled your eyes even as a grin pulled at your lips. “I've known you for too long, Els, and I know that I need a few shots before I'm willing to shove anything anywhere for your amusement. So, respectfully, eat my ass.” 
“You'll have to dare me to,” she quipped back immediately. She wrinkled her nose as you choked back a laugh, tapping a finger against her lips. You tried to ignore how endlessly cute it was as she said, “Where's the weirdest place you've pissed?” 
Another sound burst from your lips, some mixture of a laugh and a shout. You gaped at her, watching as a laugh crept up, a smile tugging at her lips. 
Shaking your head, you said, “Weird, but that's a pretty tame one. Not gonna ask me about my favorite sex position or if I ever snuck drugs into our dorm room last year?” 
Ellie only shrugged. “Gotta warm you up a bit first, babe.” You ignored the way your heart jumped at such an innocent word. After a moment's pause, she added, “But have you?” 
“You'll just have to ask me. One truth per round, bitch.” You pretended to think about it for a moment, though you already had your answer. “Okay, so you remember when we first signed the lease here and we were a bit short on rent?” 
Ellie nodded, her brows furrowed in confusion. 
“Like, a week before it was due, some girl on Tinder hit me up. She was passing through town and only staying for the night, and she was bored. So, she paid me.” 
Ellie's frown deepened. “To, what, have sex with her?” 
Laughter bubbled up your chest as you said, “No, she paid me to piss in her mouth.” 
There was silence for several long moments. Ellie’s jaw hung loose, her eyes wide as she simply stared at you. Several emotions flashed across her face like a movie reel - confusion, shock, disbelief - before finally landing on pure, unfiltered amusement. The corners of her lips quirked up, her open mouth turning up at the corners until a loud, sharp laugh burst from her throat. When Ellie laughed - really, truly laughed - she did it with her chest, a sound so fathomless and full it filled up whatever room she was in. 
In your small bedroom, her laughter bounced off the walls, echoing in the alley outside of your open window. You couldn’t contain your own giggles, muffling your laughter with a hand over your mouth, snorting as Ellie buried her face in your mattress. 
When she finally looked up, her eyes filled with tears, she only said, around her subdued giggles, “How much?” 
You grinned. “$200.” 
Ellie’s mouth fell open again - you’d have to pick it up from the floor at this rate. “Dude, you’re fucking with me.” 
“I swear,” you said, holding up your hand like a scout. “I’ll show you the Venmo if you don’t believe me.”
Ellie fell back against the bed, throwing her head back. “You have to go find this chick on Missed Connections, she can help with the rent.” 
You threw one of your pens at her. Catching it in midair, she stuck the end in her mouth to chew on it. You wrinkled your nose at her, but she only grinned, the pen hanging from the corner of her lips. 
“You're so gross,” you said, though you were still giggling. 
“Bold words from you, Piss Girl. That's, like, the worst superhero name in existence.” 
You threw your hands up, trying your hardest to glare at her and failing miserably. “Hey, $200 is $200. I'm not one to kinkshame.” Ellie threw the pen back at you. You grimaced when it hit your arm, leaving a small spot of spit on your sleeve before clattering to the floor. “God, it's your turn. Truth or dare, bitch?”
Propping herself up on her elbows, Ellie said, “Dare.” A grin pulled at her lips, her voice low as she added, “Because I'm not a fucking pussy.” You stuck your tongue out at her, ignoring her when she mockingly said, “Mature.” 
Your desk was pressed up next to the only window in the room, cracked open to let the cool autumn air in. Your curtains fluttered in the breeze, the dying sunlight creeping in, casting light like liquid gold over Ellie’s skin. As you thought, scrambling to think of a suitable dare, you could not control how your eyes grazed over her exposed skin, the sunlight dipping in her collarbones like pools of ichor. 
Blinking, you met her eyes once more, your throat tight. Your words came out almost choked when you said, “Okay, I dare you to make a spicy two-sentence story about something in this room.”
Ellie scoffed, sitting up and kicking her legs over the side of your bed. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that your drawer of sex toys is off limits?” 
You sputtered, stammering over your own tongue as you felt heat rush to your ears. “Yes, that’s off limits. You don’t even know what’s in there!” 
Ellie hummed, standing up from the bed and taking a few steps around the room. She didn’t look at you, but you could hear that fucking smirk when she said, “That’s what you think, babe.” 
You watched her, tracking her movements as she slowly stepped around your room, scanning for inspiration. Your bedroom was about what you’d expect from a broke, overworked college student - aside from the furniture that came with the place, it was pretty barren. Ellie scanned the little touches you did have - her finger traced over the Funko Pop of Zuko on your bedside table, her eyes lingering on the pile of fantasy books you kept atop your dresser. She smiled at the posters hung crookedly on your walls, depictions of your favorite video games. She hummed again, looking back at you over her shoulder. 
“So many options to choose from,” she murmured, running her finger along your jewelry box. She had her face turned away, so you could only see the corner of her smirk as she lifted the lid, pulling one of your necklaces from its home. You watched her warily as she approached you, the chain dangling from her slim fingers. She stepped behind you, out of your line of sight, and slipped the necklace over your head, the cold metal resting against your collarbone. 
“She looped the chain around her lover’s neck like a collar,” Ellie said. You felt her cool fingers against the back of your neck, hooking around the chain and pulling it gently against your throat. You coughed against the awkward silence; your roommate had always been a little handsy, but this was something else entirely. What the fuck is she doing? you thought. “She pulled it taut against her throat and leaned in to whisper,” you felt Ellie’s lips against your ear, her rough voice sending a chill up your spine when she murmured, “good girl.”
Reaching back, you shoved Ellie’s head away; her laughter echoed through the room as she rounded in front of you, sitting back against your bed and grinning. 
“Oh, you’re so fucking proud of yourself aren’t you?” you teased, trying - and failing - to keep your cheeks from turning red. Your skin felt aflame, a tingle lingering right where Ellie’s lips had pressed to your ear. You rubbed at the spot under the pretense of scratching your head, willing the feeling to go away. 
Your heart was pounding so hard you could hardly hear her when she said, “Hell yeah, I am. I should’ve been an English major. I could write a whole fucking slutty novel and get famous. I'm an expert - I've done enough research.” 
You rolled your eyes at her cocky smile, but Ellie only winked at you. 
This is how your truth or dare games went - with Ellie being far too cocky, prancing around doing whatever dares you could think of and asking any outrageous questions that popped into her pretty little head; and you, simply trying your damnedest to keep up with her. You flailed, flustered, when she asked you about your toy collection, and begrudgingly relented when she dared you to bring out your favorite. Ellie took a shot before you had even finished daring her to text her last hookup (“I’m not reopening that bag of crazy,” she said, scrunching her nose at the taste.) You took a shot when she dared you to go mix all of the liquids in the fridge (which included pickle juice, old broths, and orange juice) into one amalgamation and chug it (“I’d rather chug the rest of the vodka, Els.”) 
“Truth,” you said before Ellie could even ask the question. You were three shots in and could feel that lightness pressing against your temples, just at the threshold of tipsy. You had moved to join Ellie on your bed, where you sat with your back against the headboard and Ellie’s head on your thigh. The vodka bottle was balanced precariously between you. 
Ellie rolled her eyes, but looked up at you and asked, “Out of our friend group, who have you fantasized about the most?” 
She had not even finished her sentence before you served yourself a shot, a few drops splattering on your shirt. Wincing at the taste, you looked back down at Ellie; her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree, her jaw slack.
“Don’t-” 
“You have to,” she interrupted you, pinching your thigh and grinning when you squirmed away. “You have to tell me. You can’t leave me hanging here - you didn’t even let me finish the question!” 
“Why did you even assume I’ve fantasized about any of our friends-” 
“Because I know you.” She was scrambling up now, unsteady in her movements as she came to her knees in front of you, leaning back against her heels. She planted a firm hand on your thigh - your skin was still warm where her head had been - leaning into it, her eyes drawing so close you could almost see every speck within the hazel. “And I know that bitches like us always have somebody in the group they fantasize about. So, who is it?” 
“Bitches like us?” you repeated, raising your brow. You were sure each line of her palm was going to be branded into your thigh. “So, there’s somebody you think about too?” 
Ellie’s smile was on the very edge of teasing, a small quirk at the corner of her lips that screamed at you just how wrapped around her finger you were - and, somehow, she didn’t even know it. Her voice was low, nothing more than a murmur that you could practically feel in your own chest when she said, “You really wanna know?” You didn’t answer - couldn’t, really, not when her fingers dug into your thigh and you could count each freckle across her nose. You couldn’t answer when she leaned in closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheeks, smelling of the weed you knew she had smoked that afternoon. You could hardly hear her over the rush of your own heart when she whispered, “You’ll just have to ask me.” 
Maybe it was the vodka warming your chest, tingling in your fingers - or maybe it was the way the light from your lamp cast sharp shadows across Ellie’s face, turning her skin into liquid gold - but you did not push her away. Your grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, but you held her gaze when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 
Her voice was soft, her half-lidded eyes holding yours as she said, “Truth.” 
“Who have you fantasized about?” The words rushed out of you before you could hesitate.
And for a moment, you believed she would answer. You let yourself believe that she would give you the answer you craved. It prickled at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arm, spreading warmth through your stomach. But your roommate had never been so straight-foward - had never given you an easy answer. She wet her lips, drawing your eyes to her mouth involuntarily, but she only pried the vodka bottle from your fingers. She held your gaze as she raised it to her lips, drinking straight from the bottle without even wincing. 
“I can play that game too, baby.” She backed away, finally giving you a moment to breathe. She settled back against the wall, laying her arms over her knees, the bottle dangling from her fingers. The skin of your thigh still burned, branded with her fingerprints. 
You looked away, huffing out a laugh that you prayed sounded sincere. You could feel her eyes on you when you leaned your head back against the wall, counting the cracks in your ceiling like they were the most interesting thing in the whole world. “It’s getting late, Els,” you said, even as your phone flashed that it wasn’t even nine yet and here you were, too many shots in, your roommate’s presence like a fire blazing in your room. “I should get back to studying.” 
“Do you want to, though?” There was an edge to Ellie’s voice, as though that question was a dare itself. You lifted your head to look at her and found that she was already watching you, her eyes soft in the dim light. 
You took a deep breath - and the vodka must have reached your brain, because before she could ask, you said, “Dare.”
You could see the vodka in the lazy tilt of her smile, in the way her head lolled against the wall. Her eyes were half-lidded, and yet there was something hidden behind her slow, sleepy gaze, something you were too afraid to name - something you were sure was only the imagination of your tipsy fantasies. 
“Close your eyes,” Ellie said, words lazily falling from her lips, as deep and rich as the strings of a guitar. 
It took you several moments longer than usual to process what she had said. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, as if the two of you were underwater. You shouldn't have felt like this after a few shots - you'd usually only be tipsy at this point. But something about the way the shadows dipped into Ellie's collarbones and the way her shirt rode up, exposing her boxers and the sharp cut of her hips, was intoxicating on its own. 
So it took you several long, heavy moments to say, “What?” 
She chuckled, but there was no malice behind it. There was something soft in the tilt of her head, the way she tilted her chin down to look at you through her lashes. Her hair fell in her face, brushing against her nose; you fought the urge to brush it away, knowing that if you did you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from running your fingers through her hair. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself from grabbing a fistful of the auburn strands- 
“Close your eyes,” she repeated in that same honey-thick voice, breaking you from your thoughts. “For thirty seconds. And don't open them no matter what.” When you only stared at her for several silent moments, she added, “How long have we been friends? Don't you trust me?” 
And the thing was, you did. You trusted her with your entire heart, and so you closed your eyes, and you waited. 
You felt the bed shift next to you but you did not open your eyes. You did not open them when you felt her long fingers grip your shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. You felt her hair first, fine strands brushing against your cheek, smelling of sweat and her shampoo. You did not open your eyes, even when you felt the gentle press of a warm mouth against the side of your neck. You hardly dared to even breathe, your hands tangling in your sheets, afraid that you would not be able to control yourself otherwise. You counted the long, torturous seconds, biting down on your lip when you felt Ellie’s mouth part, the warmth of her tongue pressing against your pulse. 
You had counted to twenty-six when she pulled away, a chill settling over your skin where that warmth had been only seconds ago. When you got to thirty, you opened your eyes to find that Ellie had settled back into her spot, leaning back against the wall. The only sign that she had even moved was the thin sheen over her lips, wet with her own saliva, and a small, pleased smirk. 
You did not allow yourself to think about it, ignoring the way your skin burned where she had touched you as though she were a wildfire. You sounded breathless even to your own ears when you said, in barely more than a whisper, “Truth or dare?” 
“Truth.”
“What are we doing here, Ellie?” The words were out before you could stop them, slipping from between your teeth and hanging in the air like helium. The words felt almost tangible, and yet you couldn't grasp them, couldn't draw them back into your throat. 
For a moment, you thought Ellie would grace you with an answer. She opened her mouth, and you thought maybe she would finally stop playing this game and let you breathe. Instead, just like before, she brought the bottle to her lips and held your gaze. You tried not to watch the way her throat moved as she swallowed. 
She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and recapped the bottle, settling it between you. “Truth or dare?” 
“Truth.” You felt you could no longer trust yourself with any dare she gave you. Your hands were already shaking from clenching the sheets.
“How would you rate your last kiss?” 
You squinted at her, confused by the innocence of the question after everything that had happened in the past hour (had it only been an hour?). “My last kiss was with that one girl I met at the bar a few weeks ago. She was drunk and way too sloppy, but she was hot. I guess I'd give it,” you paused, trying to remember the moment past the haze; you couldn't even remember the girl's name, “a six.” 
Ellie raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening. “A six?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “You’ve got to be fucking with me. A girl like you deserves more than a six.” 
“A girl like me?” Your voice sounded deafening in the quiet. You thought it had started to rain; you could hear the pitter patter on your window, could see the way it broke up the streetlamps outside like a mosaic. 
Ellie was nodding almost absently, watching the rain. Her lips parted, and you didn’t expect her to hesitate before she said, “Yeah. A girl like you… deserves to be kissed like it’s the last gasp of air to someone drowning.” You watched her mouth as she spoke, even as your mind screamed at you to look away. You scolded yourself, screaming to end this now, but your body refused; it ached to draw her near, a tangible pain in your chest. “A girl like you should get one of those movie kisses - you know, like when the hero saves the day and shit and he kisses his girl and it’s like the world didn’t matter as long as he saved her. The kind that has the whole fucking theater holding their breath. A girl like you…. Fuck….” She trailed off her rambling. Ellie ran a rough hand through her hair, making the strands stick up at odd angles, and finally looked at you. There was a fire in her eyes, blazing in the dim light. “You deserve to be kissed like they’ll die if they can’t have you.” 
Something had stopped in your chest - maybe it was your breath, maybe it was your heart. Your blood rushed in your ears, and you feared the thrum of your heartbeat was so loud it filled your entire bedroom. Your traitorous heart pressed at your bedroom walls, filling up the space and leaving room for little else. 
Your voice was only a whisper, and you wanted to kick yourself when you said, “We should really go to bed. I have an exam tomorrow.” 
Your roommate pressed her lips together, and she did not break eye contact as she said, “Dare.” 
You shook your head, looking away from her to try, desperately, to break whatever spell had taken hold of you; but your eyes were drawn back to her as if she were the only fucking light in the dark. You had to get a hold of yourself before you did something you’d regret, but you felt intoxicated with something far stronger than the cheap vodka you had bought from Walmart. 
“You’re drunk, Els,” you said, and you sounded so breathless you may as well have given up then and there. 
Ellie leaned closer, holding your gaze, and you could see the exact shade of desire in her eyes. She was so fucking warm - your head spun from it, heat radiating from her skin when she planted a hand on the bed right next to your hip. Her wrist brushed against the bare skin under your shorts, and you felt her voice vibrating in your chest when she said, “Dare.” 
And it was like she had finally pulled the last fucking thread that made you unravel, because you couldn’t stop yourself - didn’t even think to - before you said, “Kiss me.” 
You only had a second to register the smile pulling at the edges of Ellie’s lips before she grabbed your face and pulled you in to smother it. You had never imagined what kissing Ellie would be like - had never allowed your imagination to wander so far over the edge - but she did not kiss like she was drowning. She kissed with the same slow gentleness as when she played the guitar, her long fingers plucking at the strings with the careful deliberation of a lover. 
And she felt so fucking warm. You were high with it; high with the heat radiating from her fingers pressed to your cheeks; high from the way her breath snaked past your parted lips, gentle huffs of warmth against your skin. Your head swam as you pressed into her, your hands tangling into the fabric of her shirt, fingers unsure even as you ached to pull her closer. 
Ellie pulled back for a moment - for only a moment, but each second her lips weren't on yours caused an ache in your chest. Her eyes hovered inches from yours, so fucking green it was dizzying - though you couldn't see much of the color passed the eclipse of her pupils. Her cheeks were flushed - from the vodka, from something else entirely - her freckles popping against the color. You could only imagine how you looked, could feel the desire written across every inch of your face. 
Your fists tightened in her shirt, and you used the leverage to pull her back into you; and suddenly, it felt like you were the one drowning. You couldn’t breathe as Ellie devoured you, the gentleness replaced with a hunger you hadn’t known lived inside her. She pressed her tongue against the seam of your mouth until you relented, opening up to her, a soft sound escaping your throat when her tongue ran along the roof of your mouth. 
That sound - nothing more than a breathy sigh - ignited something in Ellie. Suddenly, she was all teeth and tongue and hot, hot breath in your mouth, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down when a shaky sigh forced its way from your throat, soothing it with her tongue and swallowing the moan it elicited. Her hands were in your hair, the strands twisted between her fingers, and when you bit down on her lip, she pulled - you gasped at the sharp pain on your scalp. 
“Fuck,” she cursed against your lips, and you could feel that single syllable, hot breath in your mouth that you wanted to swallow. She didn’t continue for a long time, couldn’t form any other words past the way her lips made you unravel. Her hands trailed down your shoulders, fingers grazing lightly over the bare skin of your arms, before finding your hips, gripping them in a vice and tugging you closer. “Fuck, come here,” she said, her voice nothing more than a low growl that you felt in your chest. 
And you were drunk - from the cheap vodka and sleep deprivation and Ellie. You were drunk on the way her eyes were eclipsed, her lips red and bitten and swollen, parted so you could feel each exhale against your cheeks. Her eyes were dark, hooded. Her fingers dug into your hips, and you were drunk, but shit, how the hell could you say no to her? How could you possibly say no when she was looking at you like she was starving? 
Her hands guided you closer so you swung a leg over her hips and settled in her lap, your hands braced on her shoulders. She leaned her head back against the wall and just looked at you for several long moments, biting down on her lip. You couldn’t stop watching her mouth, mesmerized as she said, “Fuck, look at you.” 
And then she was kissing you again, her hands gripping your hips like it was a lifeline. Your hands found their way to her hair, curling your fingers in the short locks, using it as leverage to pull her closer. You could feel how each point of your body fit into hers; your thighs against her legs, her hands curling perfectly over the swell of your hips. You could feel the swell of her breasts against your chest, and you so badly wanted to feel her skin against yours. You felt like you’d go crazy from the raw want radiating from your body. 
Ellie’s lips traced a map across your cheek, down your jawline. You tilted your head so she could kiss the hinge of your jaw, the spot right below your ear. She paused there, planting hot, open-mouth kisses across your neck, before her teeth bit down on that sensitive spot, pulling the skin into her mouth, and you practically melted into her. You couldn’t control the sounds falling from your lips like honey, gripping at her hair as she soothed the bruise with her tongue. 
“Ellie….” Your voice was nothing more than a whimper; you swallowed hard and tried again, pressing a hand firmly at her shoulder. “Ellie.” 
She only hummed against your skin, and you could feel the vibration against your pulse. The sound went straight to your stomach and dipped even lower when she bit at your collarbone. 
The next time you said her name, it came out as a moan; you cleared your throat. “We can’t do this - you’re drunk, Els.” 
Your roommate hummed again, but she relented, leaning her head back against the wall to look up at you. And - fuck. Her lips were red and swollen, still wet from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, and - God, her eyes. You had never understood the term bedroom eyes, but Ellie looked at you as though she wanted to devour you. Like any second her hands weren’t on you was torture. Like she wanted to bite and kiss and taste every inch of your skin. 
“Truth or dare,” she said, her voice so hoarse you had to clench your thighs around her hips. 
“What?” 
“Truth or dare,” she repeated, her eyes never leaving yours. And this wasn’t part of the game, but you played along anyway, unable and unwilling to tell her no. 
“Truth,” you sighed. 
One of Ellie’s hands traced up your side. She ran her fingers across your collarbone, up your throat, before stopping to cup your jaw, her skin rough against yours. “Do you want this?” 
You nodded, the vodka making it impossible to feel shy. 
“How long have you wanted this?” Ellie’s thumb pressed at the seam of your lips, and you let your mouth fall open. She watched, hypnotized, dipping just the tip of her thumb between your lips before withdrawing. 
It was against the rules - two questions for one truth - but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “A long fucking time.” Your voice was weak and breathy, and you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about that either. Your attention had narrowed in on Ellie, and the way her fingers skirted across your chest, the way her other hand gripped your hip - how you could feel the warmth of her thighs between your legs. 
Taking your chin in her hand, she drew you closer, and you could feel her lips moving against yours: “So what the hell is stopping us?” 
This time, when she kissed you, you did melt into her. You gripped her hair in your fists and swallowed the moan it drew from her, shivering when her teeth caught on your lip. She had both hands on your hips again, and she gripped them so hard you were sure you’d find bruises there in the morning in the shape of her fingers. She pulled you closer, pulling your hips down into her; the friction through your pajama shorts made you moan against her lips. 
And you decided to play her game. 
“Truth or dare?” you said, drawing away just enough to see the eclipse of her eyes. 
Ellie, always stubborn, murmured, “Dare.” 
You tugged at the hem of her shirt, your fingers brushing the warm skin beneath; you marveled at the shiver that ran through her body. You ducked your head to kiss along her jaw, pressing the words into her skin. “Take this off.” 
She didn’t waste any time tugging the shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor before skidding her fingers over the bare skin above your shorts. You lifted your arms and let her pull your shirt over your head before realizing you weren’t wearing anything beneath. Who wears a bra to study in their own apartment? 
But you didn’t have a moment to cover your body in embarrassment before Ellie’s lips were on you again, as if it pained her to not taste you for even a moment. Her hands spread across your back, pulling you into her as she peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses across your collar; you hissed when her teeth bit down over your collarbone, soothing the pain with her tongue. 
“Tell me to stop and I'll stop,” Ellie said, her voice muffled as she kissed down over your chest; you shivered when her teeth sank into the skin of your boob, sucking another bruise there. She certainly loved leaving her signature on any inch of your skin that her mouth could reach. 
You groaned low in your chest, your fingers tugging at her hair, pulling a gasp from her lips. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice - breathy and thick with desire - when you said, “Please don’t stop.” 
The next thing you knew, Ellie was shoving you off of her lap; your back hit the mattress, your head just barely missing the headboard, but you couldn’t even think about that. Your roommate was crawling over you, and you were hypnotized by the way her muscles tensed, her arms caging you against the bed. Her skin was fucking obscene, smooth plains stretching for miles, cast in liquid gold in the lamplight.
“God, look at you,” she said again, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. Her hand was like worn clay when it traced a teasing line over your hip. Her voice was muffled against your skin, but you caught the end of her sentence: “- so fucking pretty.” 
Your only response was a choked gasp when Ellie pressed the flat of her tongue to your nipple. You gripped her shoulder, feeling her lips close around you as she sucked your skin into her mouth; you winced when she released it, feeling her teeth graze maddeningly over your nipple. 
“Truth or dare?” she said into your skin, her voice vibrating in your bones. 
You groaned, gripping her shoulder when she licked a line over your other nipple. If you had thought about this (which, if anybody asked, you didn’t), you never would have imagined your roommate being such a fucking tease. 
She hummed, and you could feel the vibration in every nerve. For a moment, you couldn’t find your tongue, your voice caught in your chest until she released your skin with a pop of her lips. She looked up at you, batting her eyes, and dammit if your body didn’t arch, searching for her mouth again. 
Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched you through her lashes, an intoxicating smirk across her lips; they were still shining wetly. She broke you from your thoughts when she murmured, “Use your words, angel.” 
Your thighs clenched around her words, automatically and unconsciously. You were sure you could get drunk on the way her voice filled the room, rough and rich as the chords she played. It was through clenched teeth that you said, setting your pride aside, “Dare.” Your cheeks burned when it came out as a moan. 
You could feel her smile against your skin as she kissed down your stomach, silent for several long, torturous moments. You felt her teeth sink into your hip bone briefly, your hips jerking at the sensation. It earned you a chuckle before you felt Ellie’s hands pressing your hips into the mattress, holding you still. You groaned low in your throat when you felt her tongue against the skin over the band of your shorts, licking a stripe right above the fabric before taking the elastic between her teeth and tugging. You jumped when she released it, the band snapping back against your skin. You didn’t have to look at her to see the sparkle in her eye. 
You swore your heart stopped completely when she murmured, “I wanna go down on you.” 
Despite this game she was insistent on playing, it wasn’t said like a dare; it was said like a question, or a request. There was no expectation behind it. Ellie was asking, you realized with dizzying satisfation, for permission. 
“Fuck.” It came out as only a breath, a whisper against your tongue. Your fingers ached from gripping the sheets and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck,” you tried again, and it was a groan this time but at least it was louder. “Yeah. Yeah, please, fuck.” Words were just falling from your lips because when you looked down, Ellie - your roommate, your friend - was watching you, propped between your legs with that fucking smirk, and how could you possibly string together a complete sentence? 
And Ellie… didn’t. She didn’t follow up on her dare. Not immediately, at least. No, she took her sweet fucking time - always so damn precise, taking her time in hooking her fingers over the band of your shorts. She pulled them down so slowly you could feel every inch down your legs. And then you were lying beneath your roommate in nothing but your underwear - and dammit, if you had known this would be happening, you would have opted for something a little sexier than a cotton pair with constellations on them. 
Ellie smiled. “Cute,” she said, before sinking her teeth into the flesh of your thigh. You were thankful it was cold out - you’d have to wear layers to hide all the places her mouth had been. 
Your roommate ducked her head, and you gasped when you felt her press a featherlight kiss against the fabric of your underwear, right where warmth pooled between your legs. 
You huffed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. “God, you’re such an asshole - fuck-” You were cut off when Ellie licked a stripe up your panties, warm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit. You moaned at the relief, feeling the wetness of her mouth through the fabric. It wasn’t enough - you needed to feel her against you, needed her tongue to unravel you piece by piece. You pressed your hips down against her lips but her hands held you in place. 
You huffed out a breath, her name slipping from your lips when you moaned. “Ellie….” 
And then she was yanking your underwear down your hips; you gasped, lifting your ass to help her shove them down. She had only gotten them just below your knees before she was pressing back in, too impatient to finish the job. 
And - fuck, her mouth. Ellie’s mouth was fucking magic. You moaned into the quiet room when she pressed the flat of her tongue against your pussy, licking a stripe between your lips. You couldn’t control the curses slipping between your teeth when her tongue made teasing circles around your clit until you were whimpering, aching for her. She had released your hips to dig her fingers into your thighs, nails digging in, and you’d surely have crescent-shaped bruises there tomorrow - even more to cover up. You pressed your hips down against her, groaning, her name only a whisper: “Fuck, Els-” 
And then she finally, finally, gave you what you wanted. 
Ellie ate pussy like it was her fucking job, like she was clocking into a shift and working her ass off for those tips. She lapped at your clit like she was starving, pressing her lips against you until you were dizzy, your entire body tuned in to the warmth of her tongue and the gentle graze of her teeth. You shuddered when you felt that tongue press into your core, a brief pressure that pulled curses from your lips, words tripping over each other: “Ah - fuck - fuck, Ellie - oh my God, fuck-” 
It didn’t take long for tension to build in your stomach. You were intoxicated; you were tipsy, yes, but something about the way Ellie moved her tongue - long, slow circles around your clit, using the flat of her tongue to draw you closer to the edge - was like a damn drug. You got what you wanted: She unraveled you with her tongue, tugging curses from your lips. You could hear your own moans echoing against your quiet bedroom and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it. 
Ellie took your clit between her lips and sucked, pulling you into her mouth and-
A long, low moan pulled at your throat when you came. Your hand came up to grip at her hair, fingers twisting in the soft strands. She moaned when you pulled, and the vibration against every nerve pushed you further; you could feel your orgasm in your chest, could feel it trembling in your thighs. 
Ellie worked you through it, her tongue dancing against you as you rode out your high. She didn’t stop, pressing her lips against you, dipping her tongue into your core again, until you were shoving against her head, your hips bucking at the sensitivity. 
When she raised her head, she was grinning, that wicked, infuriating grin she always had when she was pleased with herself. She rested her head against your thigh for a moment, watching you as you blinked the stars from your eyes. You relaxed your fingers in her hair, smoothing your thumb across her temple. 
The only thing you could say, breathless and dizzy, was, “Fuck, Els. What the fuck?” 
Ellie laughed, the sound unarming the silence around you, the anxiety of what this meant. She pressed a kiss to your thigh, right over the little indentations where her nails had dug into the flesh, and just said, “Yeah?” 
You giggled, tugging at her hair gently. You looked down at your roommate - and you didn’t know what this meant for the two of you, but that could be a problem for tomorrow, when you weren’t drunk and sleep-deprived and naked beneath your friend. For now, you only said, “Truth or dare?” 
Ellie blinked, raising an eyebrow, and said, “Truth.” 
You considered not asking for a moment, unsure if you wanted to know, but curiosity pressed at you until you asked, “What do I taste like?”
The grin spread wider, Ellie’s eyes sparkling as she pushed herself up. She crawled up your body, taking a moment to press a kiss to your stomach, to the bruises she had left littered across your chest - you moaned when she took a nipple briefly into her mouth. She kissed her way up your neck, across your jaw, sucking at the skin beneath your ear - another fucking bruise to worry about. God, it was like she wanted her signature on you, branded in every inch of your skin. 
Her face hovered an inch above yours, propping herself up on her elbows, smirking. She leaned in close, leaving room for you to turn away if you wanted. Instead, you tilted your chin up and kissed her again. 
You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste of yourself against her lips. You didn’t like it, the way your own scent wafted over you. But fuck if you didn’t open your mouth when you felt Ellie’s tongue pressing at the seam of your lips. She moaned when your tongue ran along the roof of her mouth, pressing into the taste of you. 
When she pulled back, her eyes were soft, her cheeks flushed. “Like that.” 
You rolled your eyes, turning your face away; you had to admit, even if you hated how you tasted - tasting yourself against her tongue sent a wave of heat between your legs all over again. You only said, “Gross.” 
Ellie leaned in again, and you felt her lips ghosting against your jaw. You felt her breath against your skin when she whispered, “Truth or dare?” 
You lifted your chin to give her access to your neck, sighing when she pressed a kiss against your pulse. “Truth.” 
Her breath huffed against you when she chuckled before raising her head to meet your eyes again, that same cocky smile spread across her lips. “Was that better than a six?” 
“Oh, fuck off.” You shoved against her until she rolled off of you. 
She flopped back against the mattress, still laughing, but she was holding her arm out for you. You only hesitated for a moment - but even if she was your roommate, she just made you see stars, so it’s not like cuddling would push against the boundary you had already broken. You curled into her, laying your head on her chest, the sports bra she was still wearing soft against your cheek.
You sighed, skimming your fingertips against the warm skin of her stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. “Definitely better than a six.” 
You were starting to fall asleep, your eyes growing heavy, your study notes effectively forgotten. You burrowed into her further, wrapping your arm around her and pressing your fingers against her hip. You briefly wondered where the vodka bottle had ended up in the mess, but Ellie didn’t seem in any particular hurry to untangle herself from you, so you figured it could wait - surely it would be okay if she slept in your room for one night.
Just before you dozed off, you heard Ellie murmur, “You left the window open.” 
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predestinatos · 1 month
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you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆。🌷
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summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.
tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol
word count: 2k
notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!
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"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.
"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.
The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.
The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.
This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.
You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.
So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.
"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.
"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.
Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.
He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.
The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.
The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.
Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.
So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.
"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.
"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.
"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.
A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.
"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.
Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.
"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.
"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.
"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.
"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.
"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.
"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.
"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.
You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.
"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.
You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.
"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.
"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.
"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.
"Max... Max!! Max Max-"
He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.
The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.
He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.
It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.
"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.
"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.
"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"
"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.
"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.
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cherrychilli · 4 months
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18+
Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, friends to lovers, mentions of nudity, brief mention of masturbation (m). Basically, Eddie finds you sleeping naked in his bed.
A/N: Idk I've had this idea in my head for too long now and I need to exorcise it out of me with this little drabble or I'll never be able to get on with my life.
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Forest Hills trailer park wasn't your usual stop after clocking out of work but after the day you’ve had you don’t have it in you to wait for the next bus back to your apartment. Your place is 30 minutes away but the journey is sure to take even longer in the current downpour.
Staying over at the trailer wasn't anything new. A spare key was entrusted to you years ago and you made use of it on days like this to crash at Eddie’s for convenience sake. The key came with the promise that you were welcome to anything you needed even if both Eddie and Wayne were away – shower, food, an extra change of clothes, what have you, and you needed them all today.
With Wayne out of town for a few days and Eddie due back in two hours you sink into auto pilot, weary down to the bone from your shift. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel as weird as it probably should when you started to undress in their kitchenette, hanging your work clothes over the back of a nearby chair, rummaging through the fridge in your bra and panties for a quick bite to eat before heading for the shower.
There wasn’t much in it besides beer since Wayne hadn’t been around to stock it. Eddie always preferred ordering take out over getting groceries – something you were going to nag him for again when you had the strength to do so.
Cereal it would have to be.
You located a box inside one of the cupboards, tipping the wheaty, sugary contents straight into your mouth without bothering with a bowl and spoon. It’s not lost on you how similarly you’re acting to Eddie right down to the unruly state of half undress, wiping crumbs off your lips with the back of your hand. If you finished off with a belch it'd be like he never left the trailer this morning.
The messy mouthfuls of cereal prove enough to silence the toad’s croak of hunger that'd been gurgling noisily inside your belly, putting the box away.
Traipsing through, feet dragging, you threw your clothes into the washer next along with your underwear, completely nude now in the Munson trailer as you made your way to the shower – but not before reaching out for Eddie's Garfield mug that sat on a nearby shelf, turning it around so that the cartoon cat's lazy smirk no longer faced you. For your modesty.
You try to keep the shower brisk, not wanting to use up all the hot water but with the way it sprays down on your aching body, the steam and heat combo soothing your poor sore muscles, it’s so blissful that you have to keep yourself from nodding off right there.
You did make use of Eddie’s body wash, some spicy, woodsy smelling thing in a jet-black bottle but you didn't dare use the two in one shampoo that sat in their shower caddy. It might have worked fine for Eddie and his wild mane but you knew better than to apply the stuff to your own hair. Fortunately, experience had taught you to carry a travel sized bottle filled with your own shampoo whenever you stayed over, working over your locks in a lather scented with cranberries and vanilla.
Stamina depleting by the second, toweling off and brushing your teeth takes the last sliver of energy out of you. Eyelids slipping, movements sluggish, limbs feeling too heavy for your own body to hold up – you’re shutting down whether you like it or not.
Dropping the damp towel on his bedroom floor, you intended to change, you really did. You’d even picked out one of Eddie’s washed t-shirts and a pair of boxers out of the laundry and set them down at the foot of the bed to put on before you made yourself comfortable but that’s not what happened.
Still nude, you crawl into bed, seeking warmth and soft comfort, numbed down to a kind of tunnel vision with rest being your one and only goal.
It feels all the more natural because you’re used to sleeping naked in your own bed, much too tired to remember that you’re not in your bed, draping a blanket that doesn't belong to you over your spent body, surrendering to sleep seconds after your head hits the pillow.
It'd still been raining when Eddie returns later. Dragging himself through the trailer, nearly as worn down as you had been, shaking the excess water out of his hair like a dog trying to get dry.
The smell of your shampoo still lingering in the air tells him you're there, finding you curled up in his bed, all bundled up to your neck. The sight makes him smile.
It doesn't take too long for him to join you, following a similar routine – a quick bite with the addition of a beer and then a shower, only he doesn't skip out on clothing himself in his PJ's first.
If he’d shared the blanket with you he might have found out about your lack of dress sooner but as the gentleman that he can sometimes be, he pulls out a spare blanket from the closet so as to not wake you, prolonging the discovery. Being friends for so long meant that sharing a bed was never awkward even after you'd became adults.
That was until the next morning came.
It’s not the stream of morning light brightening from a cool blue to a warm amber peeking in between the curtains that wakes Eddie, or even the tinny smack of his neighbor’s broken screen door gusting open just a few feet away from his bedroom window. It’s the warmth of your ass pressed flush against his crotch and his nose nestled in your sweet-smelling hair that pulls him out of a dream he wont be able to recall later if he tried.
He shifts closer, eyes cracking open, remembering the tiny bottle of shampoo sitting on the bathroom counter. Remembering the new toothbrush placed in the cup next to his own. Remembering the powder blue towel that neither he nor Wayne ever used laying on his bedroom floor.
And then he remembers that he’s not alone.
Oh...
And then he wishes that he was.
Panic snaps up like a beartrap around Eddie when he realizes he's hard – his thick, throbbing erection pressed right up against your body.
Growing clammy, cold sweat beads on the back of his neck but he’s in luck because you haven’t noticed yet, still sound asleep.
This close together, he knows the slightest movement could rouse you. But what was the alternative? Wait it out? Hope to hell his boner goes away? Fat fucking chance. Not when the soft swell of your ass and your body heat alone had him questioning how he could ever go back to his calloused fist after this.
Carefully, desperately, he tries to inch back without waking you but just as he feared, you begin to stir. Your back arches instinctively, seeking out his warm, solid frame even in your sleep.
Shit shit shit.
The covers slip as you shift, your bare shoulders coming into view, eyes starting to flutter open. With no other option, Eddie swiftly rolls on to his back, his hard on no longer pressed up against you but the problem persists.
“Oh, morning”, you greet him through a yawn, pulling an arm out to rub at your eyes, blanket slipping lower but the frantic boy hasn’t noticed yet, too busy whipping his pillow out from under him to place over his lap.
“Uh-hey. Shower’s free if you wanna go first”, he offers quickly, smiling hard, hoping to subtly usher you out because he's too afraid to get up and risk you getting a load of the tent in his pants if he were to go ahead of you.
“Thanks”, you yawn again, still occupied with rubbing at your sleepy eyes to notice your best friend's pale face turning beet fucking red in an instant as you clamber out of bed, blankets no longer concealing you.
Eddie doesn’t know where to look first. His eyes dart everywhere, every bare inch of you on display. So much soft, naked skin it’s making him short circuit.
His gaze eagerly travels over the slope of your breasts as they jiggle gently with your movements, taking in your soft nipples, moving down over your belly and hips, noticing a few new freckles and beauty marks there along the way to the soft curls between your legs.
His erection digs into the pillow, brain dangerously close to fizzing because he’d been pressed up against you like that all night and not even known it.
A shiver works its way through you, making you question why it feels so drafty in his room all of a sudden. You turn back to ask Eddie if there’s anything wrong with the heating, catching the shocked expression on his face.
Looking down, you're met with the sight of your nude body, breasts bare, no underwear. It's a good thing the occupants of the trailer park liked to mind their own business, even if sometimes you thought they did so to a fault because in any other neighborhood your piercing screech would have had everyone within earshot dialing up the cops.
The scream ricochets off the walls at an ear ringing volume, causing Eddie to jolt and lose his balance, falling out of bed while you leapt back in. Grabbing his spare pillow, you press one half against your chest and squeeze the rest between your thighs to shield yourself.
Now he slaps his hands over his eyes.
---
More than anything, you try so hard to push it aside. To pretend that it hadn't happened but it looms over you like a cloud on the brink of bursting with rain.
After three whole days of walking around eggshells around each other it's Eddie who breaks first.
"I can't stand this I don't know what else to do, Can we just talk about it please?"
“Eddie…", you sigh, a gentle warning.
"So what if I saw you naked? you saw my boner!...sort of. I mean, I guess that doesn't exactly make us even but it has to count for something, right? you're not alone in this"
You immediately set your wide eyes on the only other patrons in the diner to see if they’d overheard – two older women swapping pictures of their grandchildren over coffee and cheesecake. When neither of them take a pause in the middle of cooing about little Tommy's third Birthday or little Emily's first day of Kindergarten you redirect your attention back to Eddie.
“Eddie! Keep your voice down!”, you whisper shout at him from across the booth. "There are literal grandmother's here!"
He rolls his eyes. Not mean spirited, just unconcerned by the ladies and what they may or may not have overheard.
And then, even though no one’s paying either of you any attention, you lean closer over your half-finished key lime pie, one hand shielding the side of your face like you’re trying to avoid getting recognized by an ex who’s just walked in.
"I'm so embarrassed...please can we just drop it?", you plead, voice hushed.
He gives you this look of mild incredulity. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Trust me", and the inflection in his tone almost gives him away, prompting him to double back immediately.
The last thing he wants is for you to feel more uncomfortable than you already do. So he doesn't need you to catch on that he's got every moment of your unintended strip tease memorized. Or that he likes to replay what he's since thought of as the best 10 seconds of his life over and over again when he's fucking his fist in the shower.
“I just mean that it's nothing to be embarrassed by. It could have happened to anyone. Who among us hasn’t napped in just their birthday suit before, am I right?” he finishes with a slight wince, knowing none of this is exactly helpful.
And you know he’s only trying to be nice in his own, sweet, bumbling way but you still feel terrible.
"I don't know if I can shake this feeling", you cast your eyes down, looking too close to despondent for his liking.
"Listen I- I don't know how to fix this but I want to. Please just tell me what I can do and I'll do it, okay?"
God, he's sweet and it makes you feel a little flustered being on the receiving end of that gentle stare, needing to shift the mood lest you drown in all that earnestness pooling in his eyes.
It's moments like this that call for a bad joke to cut the tension, right? some momentary and well meaning deflection before you're ready to address the matter at hand again.
Letting out a half hearted laugh, you make your best attempt to inject some humor into the situation.
"I don't know. Maybe it might help if you got naked too", you nervously scraped your fork against the buttery graham cracker crust of your pie, dislodging a few golden crumbs.
It was so very clearly a joke. At least you had thought so. Eddie? not so much.
His brown eyes go wide, looking scandalized, his voice coming out a little more quite than you're used to.
"What?"
"I mean, I showed you mine after all", you tried again in a cadence that was wholly unserious but once again, he fails to catch on.
"You want me to get naked for you?"
You should correct him and you mean to but before you're able to do just that, something about the way he's staring at you makes you want to match his seriousness. The fact that he didn't say no right away strikes you as weirdly intriguing.
"You don't have to", you clarify, adding, "It's just that – well, you asked and I think it could maybe help? to really get us on even ground?”
The words that come out don't feel like you own – foreign to your ears even though they're said in your voice, with your own lips forming them and your own tongue curling around every syllable.
What the hell am I doing?
Eddie pauses. Seconds drag on like nails on a chalkboard as he taps a ringed finger thoughtfully on the edge of his empty plate smudged with faint traces of cream cheese and lime zest.
"Fine. On one condition", he leans back, arms crossing over his chest, smiling wide and megawatt bright.
Oh my god is this really happening?
“...Yeah?”
"You're going to undress me"
---
Part two? who knows. Certainly not I.
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