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#even if she’d probably be cool with it
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i want to make a purchase but i don’t want my mother to know about the purchase ahhh
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vonehrenfest · 8 months
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Together Forever
So it turns out that Danny is functionally immortal, his living and ghostly forms stabilizing each other every time he transforms. What this means for his human body is that he keeps reverting back to the age of his death- if he wants to grow up, to grow old, he will have to give up the other half of himself.
Danny could also stay a ghost instead, but it doesn’t feel right. It would be too much somehow in a way he can’t explain. (To be a ghost is to be tethered to your pain. He doesn’t notice it while he’s dead but the relief is real each time he comes back to life.)
Tucker reincarnates, like he has been for the past millennia. Each time he forgets his friends, and each time he’ll look into an ancient mirror and slowly start to remember.
It’s not just Tucker who comes back. His parents also return, again and again to each other. They never remember but it’s comforting nonetheless. On his third life after being Tucker Foley, it occurs to him that they might be soulmates; his continued existence not an unnatural blackmailing of the universe (like magic so often is) but just… skitching a ride.
Sam lives. She’s idealistic, a fighter, and ambitious. She dabbles in the dark arts just enough to help further her bright-eyed goals. Then, for a while she disappears. When her friends finally find her again, she has demons- both literal and metaphorical. She stops dabbling, and lets herself age. (She won’t stop fighting though, she never will.)
Sam dies. Danny protects her soul, and Tucker helps preserve her heart and mind. Her ghost is a fearsome and terrible thing, nearly a goddess in her own right. Death frees her from her living burdens, and for the first time in centuries she feels as light as she was in her youth.
Dani and Vlad are similar to Danny, but they are not perfect. They have to eat.
Vlad’s death was gradual. There is no single moment his biology returns to when he transforms, so he ages. He sustains his living body with his ghostly form, so like Spectra and Desiree he learns to draw energy from human emotions.
Dani was born half-dead. The condition Vlad discovered in himself as he begun to live longer and longer than any human has natural access to, she had from the very beginning. Dani doesn’t bother with vampirism though. She’s a Frankenstein and she’s ok with it; she gets her ecto-vitamins in the form an injection by Danny.
One day Dani will find out why she wanders, and why she traces the same paths over and over again. (Sam will tell her about ley lines, liminal spaces, and tears in the veil between worlds.) She’ll find places and events where the air itself sustains and strengthens her. Sun on a flower.
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goldensunset · 1 month
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*violently trembling* i need…. to find twilight princess for the wii… *gets shot by the ‘but you said you would finally play this one game!’ gun*
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talkaustentome · 1 month
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Why did you let me say hummus?!
Inspired by this tag
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and this interview
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tonystarkstan · 2 years
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a dead language lives inside of me now. half-finished jokes handmade for her to complete, pain written in a way she always read so well. someone else finishes my thought, and I start to say, “HERE WE GO AGAIN” before I remember I’m talking to someone who isn’t her. I started laughing recently when I remembered a story about someone in a dorm groupchat, and the laugh wilted in my chest when I remembered I don’t have anyone to share it with.
taylor swift releases a new album in october and the first thing I wanted to do was text her about it. not because I’m a huge taylor swift fan, but because she is, and I wanted to experience her excitement secondhand, I wanted to crawl inside of her brain; I wanted to love the things she loves. in the same way, i hear about the tragedies, and i wonder if there is anyone with her who is understanding her particular language of grief. i don’t get to be there anymore, but i still know what her pain sounds like. and i still know what her love sounds like. i still know how to speak it back. does anyone else? no one else does for me, not like her.
what do you do when you’ve already loved the best person you’ll ever meet? do you hold your breath, try to wait for someone who is (impossibly) better? do you spend your life measuring everyone you meet to the bar she set? or do you resign yourself to it? do you tell yourself she was your favorite thing to ever happen to you and now it’s gone and it’s going to be like that until you die, and if you’re lucky, you’ll get to try again in a next life? maybe you tell yourself you’re dramatic and catastrophic. maybe you go to sleep so you don’t have to think about it anymore. maybe you lie to yourself and tell yourself this can still be salvaged, just so the ache eases enough to sleep at all.
she once asked me for a writing prompt. I threw the word “entropy” out there and she spun it into art. it’s prettier than this will ever be, but here’s what I’ve got: the universe favors disorder. we are alive because our systems remain ordered, and when that splinters, we become sick. that room that took hours to clean became messy in a snap. and that relationship we spent so long building, that love and language so tenderly developed, died in days.
she wrote that she thinks of entropy as “the preprogrammed desire to escape.” I wonder if that’s what it was that got us in the end. all the love in the world, straining against that desire. I hope the escape is good for her. I hope the chaos treats her well. and I hope it’s better than what it’s been for me.
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fingertipsmp3 · 2 years
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Newest evidence that I am stupid: since I started having covid symptoms, I’ve been avoiding working on the baby blanket I’ve been making for my friend’s niece, partly because I haven’t been able to hold my head up straight most of the time and partly because I don’t want to cough on the blanket and infect it with the virus (not sure if this can happen but considering it’s for a baby, it absolutely isn’t worth it). I’ve realised just now that I can wash the fucking blanket before I give it to them 🤦🏻‍♀️
#also worth mentioning: i’m unlikely to be done with this blanket for literal months#the baby isn’t due for nearly 6 months regardless; and also i’m using this project as a stashbuster and i have a Lot of yarn to work through#my friend’s niece is also one of those ultra-fashionable gen-z instagram kids (she’s 20 but anything below like 25 is a kid to me i’m sorry)#so i honestly don’t know if she’ll even want the blanket. the colour palette & textures suggest it would be a good baby blanket and she’s#the only person i know atm who’s pregnant so i’m keeping her in mind for it; but she doesn’t actually know i’m making it and i don’t know if#she’d like it or want it. which is completely fine! not everything i make is going to be to everyone’s taste#i’m going to run it by my friend first and if she says her niece probably wouldn’t like it i’ll rethink#it is kind of a messy patchwork blanket so like i said; totally understandable and i wouldn’t be offended#i know my mentor is currently trying to have a baby also. so like. the only thing that’s set in stone is that it’s going to A baby#is this a weird way of working? lol i don’t even know. i just like the ten stitch blanket pattern. it’s just mindless enough that i don’t#have to worry about mistakes; but the corners and stuff make it interesting to do. and i can add in new colours and balls of yarn easily#and of course it’s seamless and everyone thinks they’re cool to look at and that i’m a magician for making them#i’m sort of a process knitter. what i do is i make whatever i want to make and usually it’s something i have no use for (like a blanket#that’s nowhere near big enough for me; a 6’1 and overweight adult woman; to use) so then i immediately try to get it out of my house#by gifting it to the nearest person i know who has a baby. i never said this was a good system; but it’s my system#and it seems to be going well so i’m sticking with it#anyway tl;dr i’m an idiot. maybe covid has given me brainfog idk#the moral of the story…. wash your finished projects maybe? i don’t know. don’t ask me#personal
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1-ufo · 3 months
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Funny story so one time last year I was here for my immunoglobulin replacement therapy and I don’t tolerate the infusions very well so we have to do a very slow drip which means my appointments typically last about 6-7 hours. So I usually call ahead because my med takes about an hour to mix and I don’t want to add more hospital time if I can help it.
So I did that and went in for my appointment and it was weird because I was there got my iv ready and everything. Had my Benadryl nap and woke up and my med still hadn’t arrived. And it definitely should have been here by now. I know sometimes the pharmacy gets busy and it takes even longer to get my med prepped. it’s taken 2 hours before so this isn’t /that/ unusual.
A nurse pops her head in and is like… so the pharmacy says they’ve sent the med but we haven’t received it yet. We think it got stuck in the pneumatic tube and we don’t know where. And since it’s the weekend we don’t have the usual maintenence people here. If it’s stuck for too much longer the medication will go bad before the end of your infusion and they’ll have to mix another one. (Note, my medication is made up a very specific, rare, blood type due to the rarity of my condition, these are received through plasma donations from people who also happen to have this very rare missing immunoglobulin that I’m also missing and therefore my medication most especially of all the different ones is Very Expensive. Thousands Of Dollars Expensive. So this would be a massive waste of a very hard to get plasma donation and also $$$)
Awesome
It took another hour before I got the med, and from my understanding they had to put holes in the walls up through 9 floors to find my med and fish it out of the wall. I was there for twelve hours that day.
So they Learned on that day.
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hattiewritesalot · 18 days
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Awake
Azriel x fem!Reader
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Summary: Azriel is undeniably furious, especially considering the fact that Y/N has yet to wake up. But, when she does, what will become of their relationship?
Warnings: Vomiting, mentions of Az wanting to kill people for his bbg, very fluffy. Bit of hurt/comfort for both Azriel and Y/N
A/N: Here is part two of Poison (which, btw, thank u for all the support I've been getting on it 😭). feel free to send in requests for acotar bc I'm bored<3
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Azriel doesn’t think he’s ever been angrier in his entire life.
He’s supposed to stay calm and collected, every inch the mysterious spymaster, but not even the strongest sedative could settle the rage brewing in his chest. His shadows curl menacingly around his limbs, the black essence seeming to share his fury.
Rhysand sighs, rubbing his temples. Feyre stands behind him, probably to offer some form of comfort. They both adore Y/N. They’ve practically adopted her with how much they coddle and coo at her, despite her loud laughter and complaints whenever they do.
Cauldron, what Azriel wouldn't do to hear that laugh right now. 
It’s been three days. Y/N is not awake. His mate is not awake.
Rhysand finally looks up at Azriel. “We’ve got answers, at least.” Before Azriel can interrupt, he keeps talking. “Beron has admitted to poisoning Y/N. He figured that if he targeted her, we’d crumble. Not because she’s the strongest, but because she’s the most… beloved, daresay. He didn’t think we’d hit back, and he thought he’d be able to crush us with this crack in our defences.”
Azriel’s scarred knuckles are alabaster from how hard he’s gripping the arms of his chair. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he just admit it?” The High Lord of Night takes a deep breath.
“He found it funny.” The noise that tears from Azriel’s throat is completely inhumane, and completely unlike him. He storms to the door, but Cassian’s strong arms hold him back, urging him to stay calm, urging him to breathe. He can’t. He’s gone past being angry, and he’s gone past blaming it on the new mating bond.
Y/N is his best friend. He’d die and kill for her, he’d steal the moon and stars if it meant she’d be happy. The Mother’s bond can go and fuck itself, because the one he’s already got with Y/N will always be stronger.
“I’ve arranged a meeting with Eris Vanserra.” Rhys’ firm voice cuts through the haze of rage. “He says he has plans, and that this event has solidified his desires. I may be unable to tell you what comes of the meeting, but I guarantee that Beron will suffer for what he did to Y/N.”
Mate. Awake. He almost doesn’t realise what his shadows are whispering to him. Awake. Eyes open. Vomit. GO. He chokes, and desperately tries to break free of Cassian's grip. He needs to see her. He needs her to be okay. “Az, Rhys just said-”
“I know what he just said!” Azriel hates the way his voice is more of a sob. “She’s awake- she’s- please, let me go to her!”
A shadowsinger shouldn’t beg. He shouldn’t grovel. He should attack.
But he doesn’t, because he knows that Y/N is far more important than any conflict he could have with Cassian right now.
And, besides, Cassian lets him go. He’s never run so fast in his life. His feet are barely on the ground, legs and shadows and wings working in tandem to get him there as soon as possible. He thinks he might be the one vomiting in a minute.
Rhys groans. “I know they’re close, but he’s going to drive me insane before I even have this meeting.”
But Feyre, ever the observant High Lady, stares at his retreating form, hand squeezing Rhys’ shoulder. “Give him time. I’m sure he’ll cool off, when he knows she’s safe.” A small smile quirks up at the corners of her lips, knowing exactly why Azriel is so worked up.
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His chest heaves as he pushes the door open, but then it’s filled with warmth. Alive. She’s alive, and upright, and very visibly pissed off but it’s okay because she’s alive.
“The one time I drink something that isn’t champagne-” she croaks out. “-and it turns out to be fucking poisoned. If that’s not my luck I don’t know what is.”
Azriel can’t control the desperate sob that bursts from his lips as he clambers onto the bed, pulling her into his chest. She’s sweaty, and feverish, and she’s just puked into the bucket next to the bed, but he’ll be damned if he cares. She’s alive. He buries his face in her hair, arms and wings squeezing her so tightly it makes her squeak.
“Alright big guy, I’ve just been sick, let’s not try and go for round two.” Her tone is teasing, joking, but the moment he pulls away, her face falls. “Az…” she murmurs, moving her fingers up to wipe his tears. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he spits, sobbing again. “What’s wrong!? You were fucking poisoned! You’ve been puking and coughing and writhing and screaming ever since you got here, and you’ve been out for three days. Three whole days- where- I didn’t know if you were dead, I didn’t know if you-”
“Az.” her tone is a bit firmer now, thumbs pressing against his lips. “I’m okay. I’m gonna be okay. I’m here, I’m breathing, and I’m going to be fine. Breathe.” 
He heaves a deep breath, clutching her so tightly his fingers make indents on her skin. If she notices, she doesn’t care. “You’re… okay.”
“I’m okay.” She smiles. Her lips are cracked and slightly discoloured, but he’s missed her little smile so fucking much. “Come on, Az, you know me. Tough as nails.” She flexes her arms, and Azriel snorts.
“There’s nothing there. You should really stop skipping training.” “No! You’re always a dick to me in training!”
“Yes, because Cassian’s about as mean as a wet sponge, and it isn’t potty training, it’s battle tactics.” She scoffs. “Whatever, whatever.” And he grins, and hugs her again, trying to engrave the memory of her wrapped up in his arms into his brain, just to keep there forever. “Azriel?” He hums in response. “I- so, you know a couple days back? When... this... happened, and I was just about to fall asleep?” She swallows. “I think I felt something… snap.”
His heart pounds in his chest. “The bond? You felt it too?”
“Uh- yeah.” She looks up at him, big eyes blinking up at him like a doe, her face so sweet he wants to coo. “Are you disappointed? That it’s me?”
That makes Azriel frown. How could he be disappointed? She’s everything and more, anyone can see that. Even if he pushes aside the fact that she’s drop-dead gorgeous, she’s got a brain to match it. She’s quick and clever and sassy in a way that rivals even his own spunk. If anything, she should be the disappointed one.
“No.” he says, brows furrowing. “Y/N, sweetheart, you mean the world to me. How could I be disappointed?” He wants to catch all of the butterflies in his stomach and lock them away forever, because they're making him woozy. “Are- are you?”
“Am I?” her tone is confused, almost shocked. “Az- Az, I’ve been into you for, like, forever. I’m not disappointed. I could never be disappointed, not with you.”
They stare at each other for a long moment, blinking, suddenly coming to terms with the fact that this bond has, for lack of better wording, startled them. They’ve always prioritised everyone else over them, always considered others' needs and benefits above their own, but they’ve never had the chance to fully acknowledge themselves. Maybe that’s what made them so alike. Maybe that’s why the Mother paired them together, knowing that amidst the sarcastic comments and teasing touches, the sturdy roots of their relationship came from their unwavering trust and care for one another.
Azriel’s hand moves to Y/N’s clammy forehead, softly pushing the hair away from her face. Despite everything that’s happened in the last few days, she’s still her, and he’s still him. Nothing is ever going to change that.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispers. She rolls her eyes. “I’ve got a raging fever, I’m drenched in my own sweat, I just threw up and you’re calling me beautiful?”
He laughs, oh, by the Cauldron, he laughs. “You could be a corpse and you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world.”
“That’s necrophilia, Az. Pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“You’re hilarious, sweetheart.”
“Is that why you fell in love with me?”
“Okay, who’s saying I’m in love with you?”
“Me.” and she grins, nudging her nose against his. “Because I am not only hilarious, but also very observant.” He lets out a little hum in response, scarred fingers still twisting in her hair. Everything’s perfect, because they’re not. Their imperfections are intertwined, just like their souls, and the knowledge the other will always be there to love them is all they've ever wanted.
Azriel’s eyes flit down to her lips, and then he’s leaning in, and she’s doing the same, and-
She pulls away, wincing. “I puked about five minutes ago. I don’t think you want to kiss me right now.”
He rolls his eyes, tipping her chin up. “Y/N L/N, I have waited at least two centuries for the opportunity to kiss you. Don’t stop me now.” And he presses his lips to hers. It’s gentle, soft, sweet. Everything he feels around this girl.
“You’re gross.” She mumbles.
“That’s what love does to you.” 
“And you’re a sap.” She grins. “I suppose you’re lucky I love you, even if you are going soft for me.”
“Shut up, sweetheart.”
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@topaz125 @starryhiraeth @nahminae @quiettuba @thecraziestcrayon @honeywithemoney @marvelsmylife @sunny1616 @lilah-asteria @emryb @i-am-infinite @st4r-girl-official
my loves ty for ur support! :)
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astarions-wife · 7 months
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Ranking Baldur’s Gate 3 Characters/Companions on if they’d be successful in helping you lace a corset.
Astarion: 11/10. He wears them himself, he probably even judges you on how you’re doing it wrong. He has it down to a science.
Shadowheart: 7/10. She wears that corset top to bed. She’s all for the use and style, but she prefers the ones without laces. Probably could do it, but with practice.
Minsc: 5/10. He says “Why do our QUEENS wear these things…” he doesn’t get it. But if asked to help lace a corset, it’s not that he couldn’t—it’s just he’d probably ask Boo to do it.
Lae’zel: 8/10 on skill, because she definitely can, but why would she? She’d click her tongue and call you weak for needing assistance.
Wyll: 10/10, he studies it to be a gentleman. He knows the correct tensions, how hard to pull, how to tie them, etc. he even knows the front lace ones.
Karlach: 6/10. Once the heat is cooled down enough so that she can touch you, I think she’s just so excited to have physical contact with anyone that she forgets the task at hand. She’d have to be reminded frequently.
Jaheira: 9/10, but in a practical way. Like she helps you lace them, while expressing concern about how tight they are, and focuses on doing it right to be supportive and practical for combat.
Gale: 2/10. Don’t get me wrong, he does it right. But he definitely has some kind of spell to do it for him. Now taking it off? That’s a 10/10, a proper science.
Aylin: 12/10, laces Isobel’s corset while proclaiming her love for her. It’s an art form, and Aylin has conquered it.
Isobel: No data. Hasn’t laced a corset since Aylin came back.
Halsin: 7/10, he definitely knows how! I just think he goes off about the “oak father” and how corsets are against natures very way as he’s doing it.
Orin: 0/10, would she even need to? She snaps her fingers to change forms. She wears human flesh on her body. She’d cut a corset off, and then probably you in the process.
Gortash: -2/10. The man can’t even lace his own shirt, let alone someone’s corset.
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propertyofwicked · 1 month
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LOOK AFTER YOU - LN
based on this request! ✧ my inbox is open! ✧
warnings - mentions of sick, poorly reader, mostly fluff <3 not proof read
masterlist the playlist
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y/n hadn’t been sure why her body had woken her abruptly, until she felt a familiar dull ache in her stomach, panicking slightly at the thought of being or even feeling sick. she hadn’t felt well the night before, but she tried pushing the thought aside as she shifted out of lando’s tight embrace to lay on her back, hoping to manifest her inevitable illness away. but her blood soon ran cold, a sweat forming on her skin, and the need to run to the bathroom became unavoidable.
the first wave of nausea came early, some hitting the floor before she held the rest down and fell to crouch over the toilet. tears came streaming down her face as her sickness paused momentarily - she hated being sick, she hated that she’d made a mess, and she hated that she could hear the faint sounds of lando stirring, and the bed creaking as he made his way to her.
“y/n? bab-?” he began to call out, but found himself interrupted.
“the floor!” she shouted back, half stuttering through her panic, “watch the floor.”
lando had thought he’d heard retching, her tearful tone confirmed that for him as his gaze tried to avoid the sick and step around it. he stood in the bathroom door, assessing the situation momentarily before meeting her at her side, crouching down as his hand rubbed her back as his hand reached for a discarded hair tie to pull her hair out of her face as the second wave of sickness came over her.
“you’re ok, just breathe. just breathe,” he told her, his voice still gruff from his sleepiness. he reached out for some toilet paper, pulling the girl back into him to clean up her face slightly. her body slumped back against the wall as lando rose to his feet, moving quickly to fill a glass with water.
“need to drink something, angel,” he told her, pressing the cup to her lips and tilting it slightly as they parted. finally, she assumed this wave of sickness was over, but her breathing still hastened and her hands shook in her lap, the tears still rolled down her face.
“i-im sorry,” she uttered out, trying to avoid lando’s gaze despite him crouching directly in front of her.
“for what?” he asked her softly, moving to rest a hand on her jaw and stroke his thumb along the skin of her cheek, “being sick is normal, y/n - you don’t have to apologise for that.”
“for the mess. i didn’t mean to, ill clean it up i promise,” she told him, hands still shaking with the memory of her past boyfriend being so angry at her when the same thing had happened. y/n winced in anticipation of lando’s shouting to start as he remembered the floor, but it never came. instead, the glass of water was place to her side and his other hand settle on her other cheek.
“you will do no such thing,” he firmly told her, looking into her eyes. they were bloodshot, either from the strain of being sick or the crying - he didn’t know - but what he did know was that she was really unwell, potentially worse than he’d ever known her to be. he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, feeling the way she was burning up under his touch, and yet her whole body shivered as though it was cold.
“you hot or cold?” he asked her, trying to check his theory.
“freezing,” she replied, noticing the way his eyes widened at her response, “why? what’s wrong?”
“you’ve got a a bad fever baby, meaning this is probably not a one time thing,” he told her, warning her slightly before he stood, pulling her up with him and letting her topple into his embrace, “gonna get you in the bath quickly, yeah?”
lando’s brain recited everything he had learnt or done before when someone had been poorly, knowing that ringing his mum at 3am was not an option. he started running the bath, checking the water was cool enough before he lowered her body into it.
“ill be back in a second,” he told her, kissing her forehead. he watched as her eyes shut, and leaving the room to clean up the floor whilst she attempted to bring her fever down.
the next morning was no better, y/n had spent the rest of the night either crouched over the toilet or shivering beneath a thin sheet as a hot sweat covered her entire body. lando stayed awake with her, scared to close his eyes in case she needed him, knowing that she wouldn’t wake him.
he had resorted to texting his mum anyways, explaining the situation as he asked for guidance. lando had sighed in relief when she replied, knowing she’d know what to do.
mum → she probably just needs to sweat it out. keep her cool, hydrated and comfortable.
mum → try and get her to eat some plain toast, little and often till she can manage more
mum → keep me updated please, and send her my love x
he smiled at the message, replying with a quick thank you before he moved back to the bedroom holding a bottle of water and a slice of plain toast. his heart filled at the sight of his girlfriend, curled up on the bed, her eyes staring at the film playing quietly on the tv.
lando sat on the bed, pulling her body to rest between his legs, her back laying on his chest. he could feel the way her heat radiated onto him as he helped her eat the toast, one mouthful at a time.
but y/n still couldn’t keep anything down, and hours later she was still lying in bed, trying to nap away her sickness with little success. lando had been gone a while, so she stood slowly, shuffling her way around the flat until she found him in the kitchen, doing something on his phone.
“hey what’re you doing out of bed?” he asked her, head rising to look at her when he heard her walk in.
“too hot,” she replied, moving closer towards where he stood, “needed to get a drink.”
“you should’ve just shouted for me, i would’ve got it for you.”
“im perfectly capable of getting myself a drink,” she told him bluntly, though immediately she disproved her own statement, having to grip the counter as her vision blurred and her balance faltered. lando’s arms reached out quickly, hands gripping at her waist from behind to stabilise her.
“im sure you are baby, but right now id love it if you rested and let me take care of you,” he told her, careful not to patronise her. lando began to move the two of them back to the bedroom, holding her tightly as he did, and lowering her softly back onto the bed. he jogged out the room quickly, grabbing some water from the fridge before coming back to she her laying with the sheet covering only her legs.
“how are you feeling?” lando asked her softly, lying next to her and tucking fallen strands of hair behind her ear.
“shit,” she replied, trying to hold back tears but lando noticed immediately.
“what’s up? what are the tears for?” he asked her, pulling her in closer with his arms wrapping around her body.
“i jus- i hate being poorly. i feel so useless and im just a burden to you. you have your own life to live you shouldn’t have to spend your time looking after me,” she told him, her body shaking slightly as she cried.
“it’s my job to look after you angel, the same way you look after me. and im happy to do it because i love you,” he replied, his hand rubbing up and down her back supportively.
“thank you,” she replied.
“mum sent her love by the way,” he informed her, happy to hear her laugh lightly after a rough day.
“i wondered how you knew how to get a fever to break,” she told him, leaning her head back to smile up at him.
“hey!” he defended, “i know things! i just thought asking my mum would be safer.”
“tell her thank you, from me. and thank you, really.”
“no need to thank me, baby. ‘just doing my job - you wanna try eating again? im thinking plain pasta this time.”
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ladyofthenoodle · 8 months
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fic idea from 2020 that the paris special unearthed from the archives of my brain:
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So far, there wasn’t a single thing about this new reality that wasn’t terrible. She was grounded, for some reason, which she didn’t know about, and was therefore double grounded for breaking the rules of the grounding. Which she hadn’t known about!
To make matters worse, when she’d gone to text Alya to complain about the unfairness of it all, she realized she didn’t have Alya’s number. In fact, she didn’t have anyone’s number except her parents, Nadja Chamack, her grandmother, and someone called The Supreme.
She next turned to Tikki to vent, but when she checked her (admittedly cool) purse, she found her kwami wide-eyed, terrified, and most horrifiyingly, muzzled—which Marinette couldn’t figure out a way to undo. 
So she was stuck in the bakery on a Saturday morning with angry parents and no one to talk to and no ideas on how to get out of the worst version of Paris possible.
Which is when Adrien Agreste’s bodyguard walked in. Brief hope flared in her heart before extinguishing just as quickly when she saw he was alone.
Which she should’ve expected. With how awful this world was, she wouldn’t be surprised if Adrien didn’t even exist here. She couldn’t imagine a world this awful with him in it.
She bagged up the Gorilla’s order with a heavy heart and sent him on his way before looking out the bakery display window with a sigh.
Only to spot Adrien Agreste himself, with an asymmetrical haircut and thick kohl around his eyes, staring back at her. He was different than her Adrien—and she couldn’t say she was a fan of the hair—but he was just as handsome, and his eyes even more striking with the eyeliner.
When he noticed her looking, his eyes widened and his cheeks started to turn pink.
Was he blushing?
Marinette could feel her own cheeks heating up as he stared. She ventured a small, embarrassed wave, and he—he!—
He lifted his own hand, brought it to his lips, and blew her a kiss.
Crash!
Marinette, along with about 300 macarons, toppled to the floor.
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“Good morning, Marinette!” said Adrien Agreste, during a time that was decidedly morning but far too early to be described as ‘good.’ 
She scowled at him.
“Girl, you okay?” said Alya Césaire, who was—who was speaking to her.
Right.
Alya Césaire was speaking to her. Because Alya Césaire, Hesperia’s favorite lackey, was apparently Marinette’s best friend.
And Adrien Agreste was the boy Marinette was in love with.
She plastered a smile on her face. “I’m great, Alya! Super dee duper. Absolutely swell. What a beautiful morning with all the sunshine and the…. morning.”
Alya looked unconvinced.
“And the Adriens!” Marinette added hastily. “I mean, the Adrien. Because there’s only one Adrien and he sure is… here. Hello Adrien! Your face is looking very attractive this morning, because you are an attractive person. And that’s… something positive I can say about you.”
“Thanks, Marinette!” said Adrien with a dopey little smile. She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or just deeply stupid. If her diary entries were to be believed, it was probably the latter. “Your face is looking attractive this morning as well. Did you do something new with your makeup?”
Marinette had done her makeup the same way she did every day, but she supposed his Marinette opted for a boring girl next door ‘no makeup makeup’ look.
Alya squealed next to her before giving her shoulder an excited squeeze.
Marinette took several deep breaths.
“Yes, I thought I’d try something new.”
Adrien smiled and nodded.
Alya shoved her forward.
Marinette barely managed to restrain herself from sending Alya a patented Toxinelle Death Glare. Instead, she smiled wider at Adrien.
Her cheeks hurt.
“Thank you soooooo much for noticing my makeup. That is a thing I am excited about. I love putting on makeup to impress cute boys, tee hee!”
Adrien’s face fell. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—I know you always dress for you, Marinette! That’s something I really admire about you.”
His eyes were so earnest, so sincere, and for a second, she almost—
Marinette cleared her throat. “That’s so nice! You can leave now.”
Adrien blinked. 
“Bye!” She shooed him.
“Oh, um, bye Marinette,” he said with a sheepish wave, and then he left.
Nailed it.
“Girl, what the actual fuck?”
2K notes · View notes
just-jordie-things · 3 months
Text
we weren’t just friends - okkotsu yuuta
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word count: 11.9k warnings: heavy second base action (no tops, dry humping) but no smut, swearing, drinking but it’s legal summary: their friends think that if there’s tension between new roomates (y/n) and yuuta, then they should just act on it.  more info: college!au, aged up characters, roommate!au, childhood friends, unrequited(?) love
part one: “face it, you want it, you crave it” ___
Having Yuuta as a roommate was never all that weird for (y/n).  Things sort of just worked out that way, and honestly she was so relieved that she didn’t have to scramble to find a stranger to split the rent with- or face homelessness- that she hadn’t really given it much thought until a few days after he’d moved all of his things in and had settled into their now shared space.
On paper, he was the perfect candidate after all.  They’d been friends for years, having known each other since childhood it was easy to trust him in her space.  He already spent so much time in her dorm when she still lived on campus that having him in her living space didn’t seem like it’d be that much different anyways.  Not to mention she knew him to be tidy and a pretty good cook, so as long as he was able to supply half the rent every month, she was content.
The day he’d moved in she’d been so happy that she’d hardly focused at all on helping him unpack.  Most of her time was spent dancing around to the moving playlist she’d made, and she insisted they jam out while they- he- unpacked his things in the empty room adjacent to hers.  When she wasn’t dancing, she was rambling on about how delighted she was that he agreed to move in with her.  Looking back it was probably a little much, but Yuuta wasn’t overwhelmed by her excitement in the slightest.
As soon as she’d mentioned being on the hunt for a roommate he hadn’t thought twice about offering himself.  They both just so happened to decide to move off campus to find cheaper, and steadier housing.  The market wasn’t all that great so living alone wouldn’t have been possible even if either of them had interest in the roach infested studios in the area.  Even the two bedroom apartment they shared was rather tiny, the living space and kitchen was essentially all one room, and there was only one bathroom, but they made it work.  It was still more affordable than living on campus, and that’s all they cared about.
For the first two weeks it had been fun, even.  It felt like a sleepover with their best friend, but every night.  They spent most nights in cozy pajamas curled up on the couch sharing their favorite movies and swapping snacks.  (y/n) couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have him, and she was happy to tell him so every chance she got.
Yuuta couldn’t believe how lucky he was to get to spend all his free time with her.  No longer did he have to coordinate around both of their schedules in order to have quality time with his favorite person.  If she had to study for the evening and couldn’t hang out, he’d happily sit on her bed scrolling on his phone or reading.  When their friends were free they’d come over unannounced, because either (y/n) or Yuuta were bound to be around to hang out with.
It was just so easy, it almost felt like a dream.  The beginning of having their own space as young adults to do with as they please.  
Yuuta bought a fish tank for their living room, a whole ten gallon aquarium for a pretty betta fish that (y/n) helped him pick out.  They spoiled it with plants and cool rocks for decoration.  They took turns feeding him every three days, and regularly sat in front of his tank to admire him.  If one of them weren’t present, the other would spam their phone with photos and videos of it swimming around, doing next to nothing, with captions full of hearts and emojis to swoon for their pet.
(y/n) spent her freedom a little differently.  
At first it was decorating her new room with a maximalist aesthetic.  Posters, tapestries, string lights, and any strange pretty thing she’d taken a liking to covered her walls so thick that most of it began to overlap.  It could be overstimulating to some- as Maki had remarked when she first visited the place- but she loved it that way.  It took her a full three days to collage a whole wall full of her favorite photos.  Ones from childhood, some from grade school, most from her most recent experiences and adventures through college.  If she were to pull out her phone and snap a photo to make a proper memory of the day, it was likely getting printed out the next day and taped up to the wall.  Soon, those too began to pile up and overlap, but again, she loved it that way.  Even Yuuta began to take pictures for her, printing them out when he found the time and sticking them to the fridge to surprise her.
Once the project that was her room had been tackled and she was satisfied with the home she’d made for herself, her desire for freedom took the form of heavy drinking.  It might have been concerning, Yuuta certainly panicked a little bit when he’d come home from a late study group session and find her dancing around the kitchen with her favorite handle in her clutch and the belting of her favorite song echoing in the small space.  Eventually her time of drinking alone proved to be just a phase, one too many hangovers having taught her a lesson on time and place for drinking hard alcohol straight.  But he did come to learn that she was quite comfortable as a social drinker.  So if the Zen’in twins and Toge were coming over, it wasn’t odd to find a drink in her hand.  At least she started taking his advice and ending the night with a full glass of water and an ibuprofen.
All in all, living together hadn’t been too strange of a milestone for them.  It was fun, it was easy, and they really couldn’t have asked for more out of a roommate.  Being best friends was an added perk that just made it all the more smooth.
Until recently. ___
“I’m tellin’ you,” 
(y/n) huffed as she pulled the straw from her mouth as she spoke.  A signature vodka cranberry mixed to perfection after months of honing the skill of a perfect pour.  Her movements are a little delayed and awkward as she leaned back into the kitchen counter, her elbows coming to rest on it to hold herself up as she leaned her head back dramatically.  Maki, who had only been semi listening to the girl’s ranting, remained silent as she raised a brow at the display.
“I think he’s doin’ it on purpose” (y/n) finished with a mumble.
It was difficult to hear her over the game of mariokart that Yuuta and Toge were currently playing in the living room- they got quite competitive when it came to that game in particular- but Maki caught enough of it to understand where she was going.
She looked over at her sister with only mild interest in her expression.  Mai touched her fingertips to her mouth as she chuckled to herself, finding the situation far more amusing than Maki.
The situation began as simple as this: In order to save time in the mornings when both (y/n) and Yuuta had class, they’d been working on a bathroom schedule in order to optimize their time.  For example, (y/n) had started doing her hair and makeup at a mirror in her room, where she’d sit on the floor and go through her skin care routine, and any other beautification and styling she’d felt inclined to for the day.  That helped a lot with cutting back on hogging the shared bathroom.
Yuuta’s idea of helping to cut back on time, is to go back to his room directly after a shower to dry his hair and get dressed for the day.  It was a great idea in theory, and would definitely save an extra five to ten minutes.
However twice now (y/n) had run into him in the short hall from the bathroom to his room.  She shouldn’t have been so flustered.  Realistically, she wasn’t seeing anything she hadn’t seen before.  There had been plenty of times she’d seen him without a shirt.  In the backyard of the home she’d grown up in they’d often set up a sprinkler to run through.  In high school they’d gotten their volunteer hours in through lifeguarding together.  In their freshman year of college they’d gone to just about every frat party, bonfire, and beach day that was thrown, just to be able to say they had taken on the party scene in their younger years.  Seeing Yuuta shirtless was nothing new.
But twice now she’d practically run into him, with nothing but a towel held around his waist, damp hair sticking to his forehead and falling around his eyes, pale skin still littered with droplets of water, and had he started working out-? 
Even thinking about it now she felt her face heating up.  She shouldn’t have committed that image to memory- but it happened twice already so it couldn’t have been more than her mind staying sharp, right? 
“If he’s doing it on purpose,” Mai’s voice had (y/n) snapping her head up as she crash landed back in reality.  Her blush was obvious to the twins, but she hoped to play it off as the alcohol in her system.
Certainly not the thoughts that had started littering her mind, thoughts that you just don’t have about a best friend and roommate.
“Then why don’t you just do something about it?” Mai finished with a small smile on her face that suggests she has quite a few ideas in mind on how she could fix this problem.
(y/n’s) eyes widen, and she brings her drink back to her lips to ease her racing heart and spiraling thoughts.
“Like what?” She mumbles, as if there was a chance the guys could possibly hear their conversation.
Nothing could compete with the sound effect of a blue shell incoming, and Toge’s defeated screeches.
Maki scoffs before laughing, finally finding entertainment in this whole ordeal (y/n) had gotten herself so worked up about.  The last ten minutes of their girl talk in the kitchen had been for nothing, it seemed, if she wasn’t going to act on her obvious infatuation.
“Just bone?” She suggests with a small laugh.
(y/n) swears her eyes were going to bulge right out of their sockets, and what was meant to be a small sip of her drink turned into a gulp as she sucked a little too harshly on her straw.
“Maki,” Mai hisses, smacking her sister’s arm, before turning back to (y/n).  “She’s not wrong though, that would definitely solve everything” 
“I can’t do that!” (y/n) squeaks.  “I just- it’ll pass, it’s just a little crush, right? That’s normal, right?” 
She looks between the twins for confirmation, validation in her silly feelings that were bound to pass with time.  Mai winces.  Maki rolls her eyes.  This wasn’t looking promising.  But perhaps they were just too eager to set up their friends and see some drama to unfold, so (y/n) decides that their advice might be a bit on the biased side.
“Just test the waters a little first,” Maki suggests, shooting Mai a look as she tries to telepathically tell her to reel it in.  “Dip your toes in a little.  No harm in that, right?”
“You live together, how have you not experimented a little already?” Mai mumbles, her brows furrowing together as her eyes glaze over, as though trying to process how it could be possible.  The calculations simply weren’t adding up.
(y/n) gnaws on the inside of her cheek, and her fingers begin to tap on her glass.
“I guess…” She says, but her uncertainty is obvious.  “Well… how much is a little?” 
The twins burst into laughter, and they’re looking at each other like there’s an inside joke she’s not in on, and (y/n) pouts at them for teasing her in their silent twin way.  This wasn’t the first time, she should be used to feeling like an odd man out when it came to hanging out with these two, but they were her last hope for guidance, so she took what she could.
For now, she determined that Maki and Mai weren’t going to be of much help as they snickered and muttered to one another.  (y/n) couldn’t make out what they were saying exactly, but she gathered enough to realize they were slights against her, and she had enough of the bordering-on-friendly fire.
“I’m playing mariokart” She huffs, strutting out of the kitchen space and across the floor to the living room.  In this small apartment it was an open floor so the couch was only ten feet away, but it was far enough that she couldn’t hear their laughter anymore, and for now that was enough.
Yuuta and Toge were sitting on the sofa, both heavily concentrating on the competitive game.  Their wrists are flicking the switch controllers with precise movements as they steer, but when it comes to using items and drifting, their fingers are smashing buttons viciously.  As she rounds the sofa she eyes the screen, seeing that the pair are battling it out for first place, with Yuuta currently claiming the spot.
That is, until (y/n) plops onto the cushioned armrest right beside him, and he glances up at her out of habit.  The two seconds that he takes to smile up at her- even though she’s watching the screen- is all Toge needs to creep up Yuuta’s character and throw a green shell directly at his kart.
The remote tingles in his hands with a familiar vibration, his character having taken a hit.  Yuuta’s head swivels back to the screen, as he desperately tries to make a comeback, but two other characters have already passed him, and now he’s in fourth place.
“What the hell!?” He groans as he realizes his demise is inevitable.  It was the third lap of the game, and Toge’s Yoshi was about to cross the finish line.  “That was so uncool!” 
Toge’s cackling to himself, proud of his sneaky attack.  He had a feeling it would work, all he needed was the perfect distraction.  And nothing distracted Yuuta like (y/n).
As Yoshi crosses the finish line, Yuuta drops his controller to his lap with a defeated huff.  He leans back into the sofa, head hitting the cushion as he glares at the screen displaying Yoshi’s victory dance, before he turns to (y/n), who gives him a sympathetic smile, before offering her drink to him.
“That was a dirty move,” She sides with him- typical, Toge rolls his eyes at the two of them, which goes unnoticed- “You’ll get him next time” 
Yuuta takes the glass from her hand, sipping from the straw experimentally.  There had been a period of time where her drinks were so strong he was about ready to cut her off from alcohol altogether.  When a perfect mixture of vodka and cranberry juice hits his tongue, he’s pleasantly surprised that it’s not too bitter.  His eyes light up at her before he swallows.  She giggles at the obvious reaction.
“Yeah yeah” She mutters before he could even say anything.  He didn’t have to for her to understand exactly what he was thinking.
Yuuta chuckles at her, before scooting over on the sofa, closer to Toge, so that there was some space for her to sit next to him.
“You want in?” He asks, holding his controller out to her.
She squeezes awkwardly into the small space, her legs still hanging over the armrest, and her back almost completely pressed into his side.  Toge had shifted completely to one side of the couch, giving Yuuta more than enough space to also move so that (y/n) could sit properly.  But neither of them seem to notice the blonde boy’s silent offer.  Or, if they did, they didn’t pay any mind to it.
(y/n) takes the controller with a grin and a nod, and Toge starts up the next round.  Yuuta had chosen Rosalina as his character, a favorite between them that they often fought over so much she was usually off limits when the two of them played.
Despite having a delayed start because Yuuta had finished the last race somewhere in the middle of the lineup, (y/n) makes a good comeback for the both of them.  He cheers for her, leaning forward in his seat again as though he were still focused on the game for his own win.  (y/n) remained in a relaxed position slumped back against him, her fingers moving with swift ease over the controller.
She giggled at the way Yuuta was on the edge of his seat, literally, sipping down the rest of her drink as he watched her play.  He threw out advice when she picked up items, and winced for her when she took a hit.
“Use that! Throw it! Throw it at-!” 
“Yuuta you’re being a backseat driver” (y/n) said calmly, keeping the red shell in her inventory despite his demands.  
Toge barks out a laugh, still coasting in first place without much competition from the computers.  But (y/n) was quickly gaining on him, drifting and gliding past the other spots with ease, and Yuuta began to realize her strategy.  With a knowing grin on his face he leans back into the couch again, and puts his faith in her abilities.
She kicked his ass most of the time when they played one on one anyways.
Soon enough she was in second place and Yoshi was in sight.  Yuuta’s hand happily tapped at her shoulder, giddy with his excitement.  Toge had gone eerily silent as he put all of his focus in remaining in first.  But his efforts were wasted, without an item to defend himself, (y/n) was able to take him out with one blow, stealing first place for herself and crossing the finish line on the final lap shortly after.
She raised her arms victoriously, but even more excited than her was Yuuta, who bragged in Toge’s face before wrapping his arms around his roommate and congratulating her on her win.  She laughed, her head falling back on his shoulder as she laughed at his antics.
He beamed at her, and even though it was silly, there was no doubt in her mind that his pride in her was anything but authentic.  Yuuta was just like that.  He celebrated even the most minor of conquests.
Toge tossed the controller onto the coffee table with a string of curses muttered under his breath.
“Good timing,” Maki calls, dangling her keys in her hand and catching their attention.  “Are you crashing here or are you leaving with us?” 
(y/n) lifts her head up from Yuuta’s shoulder, peeking over the back of the couch at the twins who suddenly had their shoes on.  She gives them a pout.
“Leaving so soon?” 
“We’ve been here for eight hours” Mai giggles.
“It’s one in the morning you maniac” Maki rolls her eyes.
“You could just spend the night,” (y/n) offers, her features brightening up at the idea.  “Sleepover-!” 
“No,” Maki shakes her head firmly, despite Mai’s excited expression at the idea.  “We have class in the morning, we’ll do it another time, okay?” 
(y/n) nods, satisfied with that answer.
Toge shuffles off the couch, giving a bitter congratulations to the winning pair of mariokart, although he made it clear to Yuuta that he only won because (y/n) took over.
They bid their friends goodbye, promising to meet up again at some point soon, knowing fully well they wouldn’t make a plan, and someone was bound to show up on their doorstep without invitation tomorrow or the next day.
And then it was just (y/n) and Yuuta.
She was still tucked under his arm, he was still drinking the remnants of the drink she’d made for herself but had conveniently forgotten about so he could have the last of it.
“Are you going to bed, too?” She asks him, and he chuckles at her desire for staying up late.
They’d always been opposites in that aspect.  
(y/n) was a night owl through and through, whether party mode was on or not.  She was most productive when the sun went down.  It wasn’t odd to find her studying or doing chores at odd hours of the night.  He’d actually had to tell her she couldn’t vacuum in the middle of the night, claiming she was going to make their neighbors complain.  But it was a treat for him to wake up and find the apartment spotless and organized.
Meanwhile Yuuta was an early to rise kind of guy.  He had a decent morning routine for himself that involved an alarm going off at eight in the morning every morning, and it wasn’t often he broke that routine.  He’d be up for a few hours before (y/n) would drag herself out of bed and into the kitchen for breakfast- which was usually waiting for her on the counter.
“It is the middle of the night now,” He tells her, before checking his phone.  “Actually it’s not technically night anymore, it’s Friday morning”
(y/n) frowned at him.  He chuckles again.
“Fine, fine” (y/n) starts to sit up, but doesn’t go too far.  She pulls her legs onto the cushion beneath her, and then turns to face him properly.
For some reason when she looks up at him again, she’s brought back to her conversation with the Zen’in twins, and she can’t help but wonder what they would have advised her to do if she’d stuck around for the rest of their conversation.  She wondered if Yuuta had ever experienced this dilemma, or if she was the only one creating the tension in the apartment.  She wondered if he even felt it.
“Som’thin’ on your mind?” Yuuta asks after a few beats of silence pass.  His eyebrows furrow in the slightest, and (y/n’s) expression eases into something calmer.  She must’ve been thinking too hard, she supposes.
“Not really, just had a weird talk with Maki and Mai” She tries to brush it off as not a big enough deal worth talking about, but for some reason, this seems to catch his interest.
“Oh yeah?” He muses curiously.  “Don’t tell me they want to move in-” 
“No!” (y/n) let out a burst of laughter as she shook her head.  “Where did that come from? Where would they even stay?” She asks, gesturing to the small space around them.  Yuuta laughs with her, shrugging his shoulders.
“My thoughts exactly,” He agrees quietly, as though they were keeping it a secret just between them.  “But everyone hangs out here all the time, I don’t want them getting any ideas,” He says, half seriously.  “This is our sweet deal,”
Yuuta laughs again, but this time when she laughs along with him it’s soft, almost unsure.  Her heart flutters in her chest at the sentiment he shares for having this place with her.  Even after all this time, she feels relief in waves of warmth when he voices his happiness here.
“What is it then?” He asks.  He leans back into the couch cushion, but keeps his eyes on hers.  She tilts her head and hums in question.  “Your weird talk,” He reminds her, “What was it about?” 
“Oh,” (y/n) drops her gaze from his, her face warming up at the idea of admitting to him what they’d been talking about.
I’ve just been thinking about you shirtless a lot lately, and sometimes I can’t sleep over it just doesn’t seem to be an appropriate thing to say to a long time best friend who she now lives with.
“They were just asking questions about what it’s like to live together” She settles on a half lie.  They had been curious about the living situation.  She didn’t necessarily have to disclose that Mai found it unthinkable that they were able to share a living space and not tear each other’s clothes off… right?
“For us to live together?” Yuuta raises a brow.  (y/n) tucks her hands into her lap and nods.  
She tries to get comfortable leaning her back against the arm rest, but everytime his gaze falls on her, it feels heavier than usual, and she struggles to sit still.  Her hands fiddle in her lap, she squirms in her seat, and she can only hold his eye contact for a minute at a time.  Did he always look at her like that? She wondered when she dared to meet those deep blue irises again.  Was it the few drinks he’d had that made them look darker? Or was she seeing things? 
“Why was that so interesting?” He asks.  “I mean, it’s been six months,” 
Again, her heart flutters at the thought of him knowing exactly how long they’d been living together.  Or maybe she was being stupid and he was just keeping track of the rent.
“What’s so interesting about now?” 
(y/n) shrugs, a small smile on her face that she can’t help.  “I don’t know” 
But he sees through the statement, especially with that smile on her face that tells him there was more she wasn’t telling him.  Curiosity gets the best of him, and he raises a brow at her.
“Well,” He ponders, “What were they so curious about?” 
(y/n) drags her bottom lip between her teeth as she narrows her eyes at him, proving that she could read him well, too, and she could tell that he was trying to pry even though she’d been repeatedly dismissing the subject.
“Nosy tonight,” She scolds him as she kicks her legs out to throw them over his, stretching the sore muscles from sitting on her feet for too long.  “Were you eavesdropping, Okkotsu?” 
“No,” He lets out a small laugh.  “Though now I wish I had been, since you’re being unusually cryptic about it” 
“Unusual?” She repeats the word in a drawl, tilting her head and pretending to think it over.  “I wouldn’t say unusual,” She argues softly.  “I don’t tell you everything” 
“Yes you do” Yuuta replies matter of factly, his expression doesn’t even flicker.  (y/n) blinks at him.
“No…” 
“Oh yeah? Tell me something you haven’t told me then” He challenges, his lips curling into a smile.
She huffs, and quickly tries to rack her brain for something she’d kept from him.  Secrets and embarrassing moments fly through her train of thought as she tries to latch onto a memory that she was sure she hadn’t shared with him.
Her eyes light up as she finally remembers something she’s sure he didn’t know.
“Oh!” She leans forward with eager anticipation to prove him wrong.  “Remember my first boyfriend? In middle school?”
Yuuta raised a brow, but nodded in confirmation.
“On our first date, he took me out-” 
“Mhm,” Yuuta hums, recalling the details of that date without much thought at all.  “Bowling” He said calmly.
“Right,” (y/n) chuckles, flustering a bit that he already seemed to remember the event as easily as she had.  “Well, at the end of the date, when we were waiting outside for his mom to pick us up, he’d asked if he could kiss me while we were alone, before she got there,” Her words are a little slurred, which she was quick to mentally blame on the few drinks she’d had.  “But I told him n-” 
“- you told him no because you ate chili fries while you were bowling and you didn’t want him to taste it and then he kissed you anyways and you slapped him on instinct and he was a little whiner about it and said you did taste like chili fries and you smacked him again” Yuuta filled in the rest of the story, his head rested back against the cushion again, as though he was bored just from retelling it.
(y/n) blinked, her lips parting into an ‘o’ shape as she realized maybe he did know everything about her already.  Should it have been obvious to her from his confidence on that matter? Probably.  Did she still feel a determination to find something, anything, that he didn’t know? Definitely.
At her lack of response, Yuuta rolled his head to the side, a lazy smirk tugging on his lips when he regarded her soft surprise.  Her eyes narrow in the slightest at him, playful mockery of his know-it-all attitude.
“Well, then,” (y/n) scoffed as she took on a refreshed attitude when it came to rubbing in his face that she knew something he didn’t.  “I suppose you already knew that the twins were curious about how you and I seem to manage living together without some kind of netflix-romcom-level sexual tension” 
The teasing tone in her voice and eager gleam in her eye seem to disappear as soon as the words come out and she realizes what she’s just said.  In slow motion, and as her face falls into one of regret, she realizes two things.
One, that by addressing the sexual tension, whether it existed or not, it instantly thickened in the air.  All at once she’s aware of it.  Suddenly the weight of her legs in his lap is so heavy she feels a desire to curl up into him completely.  Yuuta has one arm draped over the back of the couch cushions in her direction, his hand hangs loosely just in front of her shoulder.  If she were to lean forward in the slightest movement, his fingers would graze her sweater.  His other hand lays on her knee, and sporadically he taps his index finger against it.  Sometimes she thinks he’s playing a familiar beat that’s been stuck in his head, too, but then he pauses and she loses track of figuring out what song that is.  Even her breathing is suddenly manual, and she’s afraid if she sucks in a breath too sharp, he’ll question it.  So she takes slow, shallow breaths, barely filling her lungs with oxygen.  Was that why she was getting so dizzy? 
Two, now that she’s admitted what her and the twins had been talking about earlier, (y/n) fears that she’ll have to confess that the reason they were talking about the sexual tension was because she’d created the sexual tension- and yet she had gone to them to blame him for it.
Yuuta blinks, his brows furrowing at first, as though to process the information, but he just as quickly relaxed his face and pursed his lips, giving her a small nod.
(y/n) doesn’t dare utter a word.  Instinct claws up her throat and begs her to take it back, make a joke and apologize to smooth it over and hopefully they’d never mention it again.  The words die before she can utter them.  She remains frozen beside him, focused on his every microexpression, hoping to figure out what he was thinking before he voiced it.
“I see,” He says, a small smile gracing his features that has her relaxing just a little bit.
Yuuta can feel her weight shifting as she sinks further into the couch cushion.  He could sense her nerves from a mile away, so he spoke carefully, hoping not to spook her into retreating early.
Comfortingly, his hand smooths over her knee, long fingers grazing her thigh from the short caress.
“I don’t think I would’ve guessed that,” He admits with a chuckle through his nose.  His eyes flicker over to hers, watching her closely.  Her cheeks are pink, and her gaze shifts between his eyes at a faster rate than usual.  She’s still anxious.  “But I can’t say I’m surprised” 
Her lips twitch with a curious emotion Yuuta can’t read as well as before.  Her brows pinch and then relax.  She’s reading him, he thinks.  His mind is a little hazy from the few drinks he’s had, so he might be seeing things that aren’t there, but he’s equally intrigued by the conversation.
“You don’t think it’s weird?” She asks.  Her voice is quiet, but he doesn’t mistake it for uncertainty.  In fact, he can tell just how genuinely interested she is in obtaining his thoughts.  Just as he is, she’s on the edge of her seat, and only pushing further to see where this new line of thought would lead them both.  “Living together, I mean” She clarifies, unnecessarily.
The pad of his finger taps against her knee, once, and then twice.  His lips purse and she watches the movement with her breath hitched in her throat.  The room was getting hot from the thickening tension that she’d created.  It was almost uncomfortable, her body screamed for her to get up from this couch, pull herself from where she was half draped over his lap and put as much distance between them while she still could.  She was approaching a line between them that she’d never even tiptoed across before, and she wasn’t sure what lied on the other side, but god, she was just dying to find out.
“Weird? Not in the slightest” Yuuta murmurs honestly.  She can tell from the way his eyes lock onto hers that he does mean it, and relief flooded her.  Before it came back in the form of excitement, and now her skin was buzzing everywhere that their bodies were touching.
“You’re not just saying that?” She double checks, leaning forward off of the arm rest to study him up close.  
They were already close enough, but there was a quiet desire in the back of her mind longing to push closer, until she could make out the individual swirls of blue in his irises.  Her lips curve into a soft, lovely smile as she admires him, and Yuuta fights the way his own breath chokes up in his throat.
“You really don’t think it’s weird we’ve never…” She trails off, her head shaking in a small movement, just enough to make a few stray hairs fall into her eyes.  “I dunno, like, even kissed or anything?” 
His eyes grow rounder at the question, widening just a little bit, but enough for her to notice.  She knew such a blunt question would make him nervous, Yuuta always grew nervous at any sort of romantic prospect.  He’d been that way since they were kids.  If he had a crush on someone it was obvious, but as soon as (y/n) would press about it, he’d get red in the face and begin to stutter.  It had always been cute, if not a little silly.  But now it had her curious as to why.  They’d been friends for so long, and even now that they were older, it was like his initial response to such questioning would make him shut down.
‘You could bring girls here, you know,’ She’d told him once, shortly after they’d settled into the apartment.  ‘I could even leave for the night.  Stay with the twins, or somethin.  That way it’s not weird’ 
He’d laughed, and given her a puzzled look, like the mere idea was ridiculous, like he didn’t even understand what she was suggesting.  The pink in his cheeks told her he knew fully well what she was saying.  She’d returned the confused look at the time.  ‘Don’t you want to bring girls here?’ She’d asked point blank.
‘N-no, well, maybe,’ His response was immediate but he had no clue what he was saying.  ‘I just haven’t thought about it’ He’d said instead.
She’d teased him for it, but dropped the subject.  It might’ve been entertaining to watch him squirm, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.  So she’d simply reminded him that it was alright with her.  Followed by, ‘I mean, you wouldn’t mind if I brought someone here, would you?’ 
He’d stared at her for a minute, his answer not as instantaneous as the last.  His heart lurched to his throat, or perhaps it had been bile, and he found himself biting down on his tongue to keep from speaking too quickly.  His expression hadn’t flickered even for a moment, remaining neutral as she stared at him, awaiting his response.
Yuuta hadn’t said a word.  He simply shook his head, and then left the conversation completely by returning to his studies, hoping that giving his attention back to his textbook would drop the topic.  It had worked, she’d moved on right away, and it hadn’t been brought up since.
Neither one of them had brought a visitor to the apartment, besides their friends who frequented regularly.  There were no dates, no lovers, no visitors of the night snuck in, or even mentioned.  Pondering it now, Yuuta supposes there were very few things she didn’t tell him.  Then again, he didn’t exactly have an interest in knowing those things.  In fact, the mere idea of it had bile rising in his throat.
Yuuta arched a brow at her, silently questioning her train of thought.  Since that conversation early on in their roommate-ship, (y/n) rarely brought up this sort of topic.  Occasionally she had a date, but nothing seemed to last longer than a couple of weeks, and she didn’t talk much about those events in detail.  Always beginning with a simple ‘I have a date tonight’ and later followed up with ‘it didn’t work out’ and a shrug as she’d cozy up to him on this very sofa.  Yuuta never met any of the people she’d go out with.  (y/n) never offered him to.  They left it that way, unspoken, and simple.
Well, it wasn’t all that simple at all.  The nights she’d spend out of the house on these mystery dates Yuuta found himself sitting frozen and staring off into space, letting time lapse slowly as he waited for her return.  A part of him hoped no one ever lingered at the door, so he wouldn’t have to see who it was she spent her time with, who it was that was her type.  
But another part of him, the part that he tried to bury deep down, longed to look one of these men in the eyes, just once.  He wouldn’t even say anything, he was sure he wouldn’t need to.  If he could get one good look at them, he was sure he could make it clear just how undeserving of her time they were.  Because at the end of the day, she had him, and she had him in every way that mattered.  Since they were children, he’d been there, showing her what true love really looked like, felt like.  He was there for every important event and milestone.  He was here now, sharing a living space with her.  And he’d be there for everything that came next.  Because he cared about her.  Because he loved her.
And when she had him the way that she did, wrapped around a perfectly manicured finger, how could anyone else be remotely deserving of her? 
The gears in Yuuta’s mind are operating as fast as they can, spinning and whirring as he tries to decipher where exactly she’s going with this.  But the alcohol in his system has him under a haze, and he realizes he has yet to give her an answer to her question.
He clears his throat, and his lips twitch into an amused smile as he locks eyes with her.
“Is kissing the true evaluation of roommates?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his voice that has her blushing and rolling her eyes at him.  
A chuckle rumbles from his chest as the back of her hand smacks into his shoulder, the action soft, as though she were trying to be gentle with him, as though he were fragile, even with his broad shoulders and lean muscle built into his body.
He can’t help but tease again, for the sole purpose of seeing her continue to fluster before him.  The idea of making her forget how to behave around him after all this time has his heart skipping a beat, and a mischievous glint flashes in his eyes.
“What exactly are the Zen’ins feeding you, hm?” He asks, and she struggles to look him in the eye now.
“I wasn’t trying to suggest- they just- they got in my head…” She huffs defeatedly, her bottom lip sticking outwards in a small pout.  Yuuta’s eyes catch the plump pink skin, and they linger there for a moment longer than they should’ve before meeting her gaze again.  Her eyes have noticeably widened, proving he’d been caught, but he doesn’t feel as much anxiety about it as he should have.
“So what,” He speaks curiously.  “Are you asking me to kiss you?”
A small laugh escapes her, a tinkly little sound that is exhaled with the breath she’d been holding.  Yuuta’s lips quirk upwards at the nervous response, his excitement getting the best of him the longer he watches her shift her gaze and fluster.  Why this had been on her mind, he didn’t quite understand, but in their current predicament, he didn’t care too much to peel it back layer by layer.
“I didn’t-” (y/n) starts to shake her head, but her uncertainty overcomes her and she tries to switch gears.  “I don’t know… I guess they made me sort of… curious” She admits bashfully.  Her eyes focus on her fiddling hands in her lap before turning the question onto him.  “Is that weird?” Her voice is quiet again.  “Have you ever… I dunno… thought about it?” 
The hand that he had resting before her shoulder reached out then, fingertips barely grazing along the soft material of her cable knit sweater.  His gaze followed the motion as his fingers twitched and moved further on their own accord, stopping at the hem of the neckline, just before skin could touch skin.  He looks back at her, surprised to find her attention locked on him again.
All of the fucking time, his brain is so loud it almost overpowers the heartbeat pouding in his ears.  I don’t think I’ve ever truly stopped thinking about you.
“I suppose you’ve got me thinking about it now” Is what he says, quiet and smooth, although the blush on his cheeks betrays him and makes him appear a little softer than he was going for.  (y/n’s) lips twitch into a smile nonetheless, relieved again that he hadn’t made a fool out of her for admitting such a thing.
When she leans closer to him, his fingers finally graze against the side of her neck, and he wastes no time in sliding his large hand around the nape of her neck, not quite pulling her any closer than she’d already brought herself, but the presence of his hand is firm, making sure she won’t distance herself too soon.
“Do you want to?” She asks, her eyes lighting up with an excitement he’d sparked as soon as he’d validated her curiosities.  Her voice holds the silly eagerness of a girl much younger than she is.  A schoolgirl with a crush, Yuuta thinks to himself as he eyes her bright eyes and slowly growing grin.
The hand on her knee flexes with anticipation, giving her leg a slight squeeze.  He wants to say all the right things, he wants to do all the right things, because jesus christ this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and Yuuta could not afford to waste even a second of it.  He wanted to commit it all to memory, her soft voice, the smell of her perfume, the curve of her lips, the stars in her eyes- there was so much of her to take in, and not nearly enough time for him to adore it all properly.  With hooded eyes he studied every feature as best he could, wishing he could slow down time, or even freeze it altogether.
“Yeah,” He mumbles, and the word drawls out of his mouth in a long sigh as his eyes move between hers and her lips with a longing she’d never seen on him before.
If she didn’t know any better, (y/n) might have thought that look was desperation.
“Yeah, I want to,” He repeats a little louder, and he moves closer to her then, invading her space and clouding all of her senses with him.
His eyes, dark from how blown out his pupils had grown, his low almost raspy voice, the lingering remains of his musky cologne, the way his tongue barely poked out of his mouth to wet his lips- her heartbeat was racing, and her hand trembled as she reached out to place it against his collarbone.  Her touch was feather light, almost experimental despite having touched him on plenty of occasions before, just never quite like this.
Her long lashes flickered quickly as she too struggled with where to look.  When their gaze caught in passing, Yuuta gave the back of her neck a gentle squeeze, silently instructing her to hold his stare.
“You’re sure?” He asks softly, and she almost laughs at how thoughtful the question is.  How thoughtful he is.  But she doesn’t.  Instead, she gives him a sweet smile and a shrug of her shoulders.
“It’s just a kiss, right?” She murmurs, blissfully unaware of just how worked up Yuuta’s gotten himself over the prospect of just a kiss.  
He doesn’t wait for further confirmation.  He simply draws her closer by the back of her neck.  Her eyes flutter shut and she tilts her chin forward in the most miniscule of movements, and yet he can read her anticipation with ease.
Her breath hitches in her throat, and Yuuta’s closing the rest of the distance as his lips touch hers.
For half a second they’re both frozen, paralyzed by the sudden fear that there was no taking this back, there was no going back from this.  (y/n’s) blood ran cold in that brief moment, worried that Yuuta also realized this was a grave mistake.
But then his mouth moves over hers.  His warm lips catch hers with a soft yet determined kiss, and she gives into every temptation that consumes her.
Her hand presses into his chest a little harder, before her fingers are curling into the soft cotton of his tee shirt.  Her other hand falls against his shoulder when he tugs her closer in a moment of thoughtless desire.  Yuuta pulls her by her knee, sliding her closer until her legs drape completely across his, the curve of her ass flush with his thigh.  As soon as he does it he panics again that he’s made a mistake and taken this experiment of a kiss too far, but she responds so eagerly, with a quiet hum against his mouth and her hand curling around his neck as she deepens their kiss.
For a kiss on a whim between friends, (y/n) kisses him with the fervor of a woman starved, and Yuuta internally struggles on where the boundary between them currently lies.  His hand twitches on her thigh, squeezing the plush of her leg and aching to move, to explore the rest of her warm and inviting body, to touch her everywhere he could reach.  He has to hold her a little tighter just to fight the urge.
(y/n) is less worried about taking strides across the gray area of a boundary between them.  The hand on his neck slides into his hair, scratching at his scalp before her fingers tangle into the dark tresses.  She gives it a small tug, and his lips part against hers as he gasps, before chuckling quietly at her curiosity.  He feels her smile against him before she’s pressing closer again.  Her tongue darts over his swollen bottom lip, and she gives him no time to react to the hot and wet sensation before she’s capturing his lips again.
Yuuta wasn’t sure what he should’ve predicted when they’d drunkenly admitted to sharing a curiosity for kissing one another, but he hadn’t expected this.  Her hands have a tight hold on him, on his shirt and in his hair, and her sweet, cranberry flavored lips feel relentless as she slots them into his again and again.  He supposes he’s treating this little experiment the same, meeting each of her kisses with the same amount of heated excitement.  He tries not to think about when he’s supposed to stop, when he’s supposed to pull away and say ‘well that answers that.  Goodnight!’.  So for now he pretends that moment won’t come.
On the other hand, (y/n) knows she should stop.  She knows she should pull away from his addictive lips and release her shackles from him before she gets carried away.
But she’s already too far gone, isn’t she?
Shakily, she releases his shirt, and her hand blindly maps across his shoulder, then down his arm.  Her touch is light but the tips of her fingers burn across his skin.  His muscles are taut, and she wonders if he’s flexing to be impressive or if he’s filled with so much anticipation he’s fighting the urge to go further.  When her hand reaches his it stills, and she presses her palm into the back of his hand where it lies on her leg.
A shudder escapes her and she pants softly into his mouth, breaking their kiss as she grabs his hand a little tighter, and moves it.
Yuuta breaks away instantly, wide eyes meeting hers and an apology on the tip of his tongue.  But before she can pull his hand away from her, he realizes she’s holding it to place it somewhere else, not to pull it away.
She blinks her eyes open lazily as she sits up further, curving one of her legs across his lap, setting her knee down beside his hip.  Yuuta follows her movements in a daze, his hooded eyes flitting across her body as he watches her straddle his lap and settle back into him carefully.  She’s slow, agonizingly slow, giving him ample time to halt her, to say the word that he was done and his curiosity had been satiated.
He doesn’t.
Her hand pushes his again, guiding it up to her waist, and then down over her hip.
“This okay?” She mumbles, and his gaze moves from where she’s still lowering his hand.  He tilts his head back as he looks up at her, and the look in his eyes has her melting right in his lap.  Her free hand spreads out over his chest, fingers stretching as far as she can reach to feel as much of his heated skin through his tee shirt as she could.
He looks at her with his pupils so blown they almost eat up every last splash of blue in his irises.  His lips are swollen and parted as he takes in quiet, heavy breaths.  He nods at her lazily, drunkenly, and she wonders if it’s from the alcohol or from her.
When she pushes his hand under her ass, she doesn’t have to guide him any further.  He squeezes into the supple flesh right away.  She giggles quietly before his other hand is pulling her into him again and smashing her lips against his.
They’re much closer now, it had taken little to no effort for him to pull her into his chest, and their hips collided at the sudden movement.
All she thinks about as she tangles her hands in his hair and parts her lips for his tongue to lazily explore her mouth are those couple of times she’s caught him in a towel fresh out of the shower.  How she’d scurried into her room and tried to ease her mind of the dark thoughts he’d made blossom.  She thinks about how there hadn’t been anything to quite satisfy those thoughts.  Ignoring them did nothing, acting on them in the safety of her room and her hand down her panties made them worse, and even now she feels tortured by the image, making her ache for more, more, more.  Nothing was quite enough.
His teeth sink into her bottom lip and she whimpers, her brows pinching as her hips stutter against her will.  She feels as though she should apologize for grinding on him so shamelessly, she could feel what this makeout session was doing to him after all, but he doesn’t seem to want an apology.  His hands grip her hips and he pulls her down again, dragging her slowly over the growing hardness in his pants with a low groan.
The guttural sound reverberating from his chest only spurs her on, and she complies with the rhythm he sets on her hips, slow and painful.  Their kiss breaks as she lets out a few soft pants, but she never fully catches her breath as she grinds into him.
She can’t help but peek her eyes open at him, falling in love with the way his eyes are screwed shut and his lips are parted as small moans fall from his mouth.  The sight makes something spark send a jolt of pleasure down her tummy and to her core.  She knew she should’ve given him a quick peck of the lips and called it a night, because she’s not sure she could muster the strength to stop where she so desperately wanted this to go.
As though annoyed that she’d stopped kissing him for too long, Yuuta pulls her in again, his hand curling around the back of her neck as his lips plant hot kisses down her throat.  A high pitched gasp escapes her as his mouth drags along her skin between each kiss, and her hands are curled into his long hair again.  Her hips stutter in their pace, but he has no issue with grabbing them tighter and guiding them back through his favorite rhythm.
His mouth lingers at what little of her collarbones are exposed, leaving wetter kisses there as he appreciates them as fully as he could, before traveling up the side of her neck.  His teeth barely graze the sensitive skin, and he’s dying to mark up every inch of her, but he restrains himself from doing so, instead compromising for lingering nips and gentle sucks against her skin.
“So fucking beautiful,” He praises in a husky murmur, biting down on a particularly sensitive spot just under her jaw.  He’s rewarded with a sudden rut of her hips and a pretty little moan as she angles her head further back to expose more of her neck to him.  He soothes the spot with a painfully slow drag of his tongue before kissing it sweetly.  “So perfect, so perfect f’me” 
The praise sends her into a dizzy spell so strong she’s not sure she’s still on earth with him.  This must be another universe, maybe heaven, maybe a dream.  Her fingers fall from his hair, tugging at the collar of his shirt with an irritated whine.
When she tugs a few more times and he doesn’t get the hint, she throws her hands against his chest defeatedly.
“Yuu” She whines, and the sound of his name has his dick twitching in his pants, which he’s certain she could feel.  His face flushes with embarrassment, but she just as quickly grinds into him with a roll of her hips.
He hums questioningly against the side of her neck, before tilting his head and kissing his way to the other side to give it attention too.  She sighs, half irritated, half pleasured, as he sweeps her hair to the other shoulder with one brush of his hand.  (y/n) continues to paw at his shirt, bunching up as much material at his shoulders as she could, her desperate attempts were weak, barely exposing the skin of his abdomen.  When he still didn’t comply with her unspoken desire, she opted to reach for the skin that she could get her hands on.
Yuuta’s abs tensed and he shuddered as her fingers ghosted over the exposed skin.  At first she barely trailed her fingertips over the muscle, but watching him twitch and shiver had her eager to slide her hands up his stomach, eagerly mapping their way up his chest, and pushing the rest of his shirt upwards on their mission.
His face is completely red as he watches her heavy gaze admiring his body.  He wants to laugh and remind her that she’s seen him without a shirt many times before now, and he’s never seen her look at him like this, but her eyes are darkened with lust and his voice is stuck in his throat, so he doesn’t say anything.
Instead, when the hem of his tee shirt is bunched up at his chest, he leans forward off the couch cushion, and takes his hands off of her hips so he could grab his shirt from the back, lifting it over his head in one quick yank.  (y/n) watches with her lip between her teeth as his hair falls back in his face, and he’s left shirtless before her.
The idea of slowing this down now is far from either of their minds.  She hums with appreciation as her hands smooth along his collarbones, fingers drawing loopy shapes into his skin as they travel down his chest, slowly exploring the skin she’d been fantasizing about for weeks now.  His blush runs down his neck and stops just short of his collarbones, and (y/n) admires every inch of it.
Eventually her stare is too intense and Yuuta begins to stir, wrapping his hands around her hips once more to pull her against his chest before his lips meet hers.  It’s a slow kiss at first, and her tongue brushes over his in a way that almost feels sweet.  He could still taste the vodka and cranberry juice in her mouth, and he swears it's enough to get him buzzed.  But as his hands climbed her hips and dipped below the hem of her sweater, she picked up her pace, and he could feel quick puffs of air from her nse hitting his cheek.
She’s getting worked up again, and he’s eager to see just how far he could push her before she gives in completely.
He pulls her in close enough that her hands dart back into his hair, gripping at the back of his head tight enough that he couldn’t tear his lips from hers if he wanted to.  Not that he’d want to, with how drunkenly she’s sucking at his lower lip and whimpering into his mouth with every roll of her hips.
Learning she’s so vocal when she’s turned on was a mistake on Yuuta’s part.  Because now all he longed to do was find all the right things that made her tick and do it more.  Every strained whine and whimper was music to his ears, wordless praise that he was doing something right, and he’d be damned before he found every spot that had her making those sweet noises for him.
Calloused hands roam over her abdomen, feeling it dip as she inhales sharply, and smirking against her mouth when he reaches higher, skimming the hem of her bra.
Unlike him, she wastes no time at all.  Leaning back from their kiss abruptly, and grabbing her oversized sweater from the bottom and pulling it over her head with great urgency.  Yuuta’s eyes fall to her chest instantly, wide and eager as they take in the simple red bra and how pretty the color makes her tits look.  The thin lace on the edges complimenting the swell of her chest so beautifully he hopes he commits this image to memory.
Now it’s her turn to fluster and blush while he unabashedly stares.  And she could tease him, remind him that he’s seen her in a bikini, that this was the same amount of skin he’s been gifted to see before, but she finds herself growing bashful under his heavy gaze.  She can feel the way his eyes take a mental picture of her before he finally leans forward to enjoy the exposed skin further.
“Fuck,” He mumbles, lips brushing over her clavicle before kissing downwards, between the valley of her breasts.  “You really are s’fucking beautiful, y’know that?” His words are slurred as his hands roam up her sides and hesitate just before reaching her chest.  “Can I touch you, pretty girl?” 
The praise and pet name swirl in her mind in a sweet haze that gets her high.  She gives a soft mhm and a nod of her head before his hands gently cup over her chest, squeezing with a surprising softness into the warm flesh.  Yuuta continues to kiss along the exposed skin he could reach, her collarbones, the swell of her tits, her shoulders, his lips dragged over every inch, making sure to disperse his attention diligently.  
“So beautiful,” He sings praises between each kiss, noticing the way it has her squirming in his lap.  “So perfect, every part of you” 
He grabs her hands by the wrists, pulling them up to his shoulders, until her fingers twitch and reach for his hair again.  Her hips roll over his with a quiet moan.  He lifts his head at the noise, a lazy smirk on his lips as he gazes up at her.  She furrows her brows at him as she moves her hips again, trying to get more friction between them.
His hands squeeze her tits simultaneously, before his left thumb drags over the thin material covering them, finding her hardened nipple with ease and rolling over it teasingly.
“Yuuta,” She sighs, tilting her head at him as her gaze drags slowly down his body, the desire in her eyes obvious.  
It made the room thick with sexual tension, and they both only grew hotter in temperature the longer this was dragged out.  When her eyes met his again it was undeniable what she was thinking.  Her every want and desire was clear solely from her eyes focused on his, and how her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him close to her face, but not quite kissing him.
His hands slid up her chest, fingertips prodding at the lacy cups of her bra until it gave way and he could slide his hands over the soft skin beneath.  Her bottom lip quivers with what she wants to say next.
“Yuu, I-” 
A sharp rap of a fist against their door has them jolting back to reality with a harsh swivel of both heads turning towards the sound.  Without thought Yuuta’s hands fall to her waist and he pulls her into him, instinctively covering her barely exposed body if someone was to let themselves into the apartment.  But the door doesn’t move, and the knocking persists.
“What the- it’s two in the morning,” (y/n) mumbles with a brow furrowed in confusion.  “Who could-?” 
The pair lock eyes as realization floods over them at the same time.  Oh.
“Shit” Yuuta curses, and (y/n) quickly scurries off of his lap as she begins searching for their discarded articles of clothing.  
Yuuta’s faster, tossing her a shirt and pulling one on for himself as he gets up off the couch and quickly heads for the door.  He glances down at his pants with a wince, trying to adjust the obvious hard on, but to no use.  He tugs as far as he can at the hem of his sweater to cover it.  It’s a half decent job, and as he approaches the door he hopes it’s enough to hide it.  He gives (y/n) a quick look to make sure she was decent.
She’s still sitting on the couch, her head peeking over the cushions curiously as he goes to open the door.  Her hair is a mess, and her cheeks are flushed, both obvious giveaways to what she’s been up to for the last fifteen minutes.  Yuuta’s sure he doesn’t look any better, and his hands rush to his head to smooth his hair down before he finally grabs the door knob and swings it open.
“What?” He greets Toge with more annoyance than usual, and the blonde on the other side of the door raises a brow at the tone.
Lavender eyes sweep over Yuuta’s flushed face and messy hair.  He points into the apartment, vaguely towards the living room.  Yuuta steps aside, letting his friend in for whatever it was he’d forgotten.
Toge gives (y/n) a friendly smile and waves as he strides into the living room.  She returns the smile with weak lips.
Their visitor grabs a hoodie off of the arm chair to the left of the couch, something neither (y/n) or Yuuta had noticed left behind.  He shrugs it on and stuffs his hands into the cozy fleece-lined pocket with a satisfied smile before waving goodbye to (y/n) and walking out of the room just as quickly.
“Sorry I didn’t notice it sooner,” Yuuta says sheepishly as Toge passes.  “I could’ve brought it to you tomorrow” 
Toge waves a dismissive hand, before twirling his finger around and shrugging.  He must’ve still been in the area, Yuuta realizes.
He’s about to step out the door and leave without a catch, but he hesitates just as he steps over the threshold, his eyes doing a double take as he notes the dark green cable knit sweater Yuuta’s wearing.
His eyes linger on the article of clothing, brows pinching with familiarity, before he lifts his gaze to Yuuta’s, who’s also suddenly aware of the shirt he was wearing.
Before he can stop himself, Yuuta’s head is swiveling to where (y/n) was still watching them both from the couch.  She’s sporting a tee shirt too loose on her frame to be hers.  Toge follows Yuuta’s gaze, his eyes widening with realization.
“Anyways!” Yuuta clears his throat as he turns back to Toge with a grin so forced his cheeks hurt.  “I’ll see you later?” 
Toge opens his mouth, a grin of his own forming and a small laugh coming from his throat, but before anything could be said, Yuuta was ushering him through the rest of the doorway, already trying to shut the door in his face.
“Yeah, later, goodnight, Toge!” 
The door closes a little harsher than he meant it to, the frame shaking as the latch clicks into place.  Yuuta locks it just as quickly, before groaning and hitting his head against the wood.  It felt like his heart was beating in his throat.  He worried he might throw up from the anxiety coursing through his veins.
“That was close,” (y/n) says quietly, just loud enough for him to hear.  
He’s too anxious to look at her.  He squeezes his eyes shut and stays put against the door.  Distantly, he remembers his dick is still hard.
He can hear (y/n) stirring, getting up from the couch and padding closer to him.  She pauses just before she reaches him.
“Do you think he noticed the shirts?” She asks quietly.
Yuuta sighs, finally lifting his head from the door only to throw it back and stare at the ceiling.  He doesn’t want to see how worried he’s sure his expression looks.  He doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea about the regret pooling in his stomach.
“Probably” He admits in a quiet groan.
(y/n) shuts her eyes as she winces, covering her face with her hands.
The tension in the room is no longer due to sexual desire overtaking their inhibitions.  It was awkward.  Painfully awkward.
“I feel so stupid,” She mumbles into her hands.
Yuuta’s head snaps towards her, taking in the shame in her body language.  His heart sinks towards his stomach.  Had they made a massive mistake? (y/n) drags her hands down her face before looking up at him, her brows drawn together with a knot of worry between them.  Had he made a massive mistake? 
“I am so- I’m so sorry,” She tells him weakly.  “I shouldn’t have- that was- I was-” 
She can’t even finish a thought, much less an explanation on how ridiculously impulsive and embarrassing that was.  Her face is growing pale and she feels sick to her stomach.  She couldn’t believe she’d just ruined one of the greatest friendships she’s ever had over a silly conversation with the Zen’in twins about a silly crush.  She couldn’t believe she’d just ruined the perfect living situation with the perfect roommate over a crush that probably would've gone away on it’s own had she just handled it maturely.
“It’s okay-” He starts to say, trying to find the right way to explain to her that he wasn’t upset in the slightest about what happened between them.  He’d only been embarrassed about practically getting caught.  He knew their friends well, and he was sure that Toge wasn’t the only one to notice the swap of shirts.  Surely Maki and Mai had already been given an earful about the whole ordeal.
Before he can say anything else, (y/n’s) cutting him off.
“I should go to bed,” Her voice is too soft to overpower his, but he shuts up as soon as she speaks.  “I’m… I’m really sorry, Yuuta,” 
His eyebrows furrow as he takes in her sad, apologetic eyes.  She really meant it.  She really felt guilt over what had happened.  His stomach twists with disturbance, and fear.
“Please forgive me, I… I hope you can forget about… that” 
Forget? No…
But she’s turning away from him, running her hands through her hair in a stressful manner as she quickly darts for her room.  Yuuta’s left standing at their door, wide eyed and open mouthed in his shock.
Did that all really just happen? 
His palm comes up to cover his mouth, the realization settling into his bones and making his blood run cold.
God, it did, it really did.
He’s slow as he puts the switch remotes back on the console to charge, before turning off all the lights and going to his own room.  He unzips his pants and kicks them off somewhere in his room before crawling into bed, not bothering to change into something proper to sleep in, or take off the sweater he’d accidentally stolen.  He lays on his back, eyes focused on the blank ceiling of his bedroom as he replays it all over and over in his mind.
(y/n) also sits awake in her bedroom.  But she’s far from frozen.  She repeatedly kicks the covers off herself before tugging them back on, undecided on if she was hot or cold.  She’d abandoned her pants and laid awake in Yuuta’s tee shirt, the scent of his cologne and something else that was distinctly him still clinging to the fabric.  Tears welled in her eyes as she curled in on herself, hugging her pillow to her chest in a desperate attempt to seek comfort.
Neither one of them gets much sleep. ___
xoxo ~ jordie
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suashii · 12 days
Text
— 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝑜𝓌𝓁 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ノ sfw ノ vaguely suggestive bits ノ fluff ノ non-canon compliant ノ farmhand!boothill ノ pet names ( darlin’ + sweetheart :3 )
previous part ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ next part
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it’s late—you know so because the sky has turned to a deep navy. you can hear the crickets chirping through the open window, feel the cool night breeze whisper against your skin. beyond those telling signs, your eyelids are beginning to feel heavy. they’re screaming at you to close them but you know that if you do, you’ll fall asleep in a second. you can’t do that now, not when you’re on the phone giving your weekly update to your friend back home. 
“so,” her voice crackles over the line, “how are things in farmville?”
you snort at meg’s nickname for the little town you’ve come to know as a second home. as much as she pokes fun at the idea of having a ranch to run away to, she’s been supportive of your decision to retreat here for solace. she keeps you in the loop when it comes to the drama unfolding in the office and listens attentively when you tell her what you’re up to on the farm.
you have a feeling she might be offended that you didn’t tell her this bit sooner.
“fine.” you draw the word out, rolling onto your other side on the couch as if repositioning will give you enough time to stall. despite not being able to see her face, you imagine that the woman is wearing an expression that says something along the lines of i know you’re hiding something. even through the phone, she can see through you. “i might have gotten a concussion a few days ago.”
she gasps and you can hear her slap her hand over her mouth. you’re sure if she could, she’d reach through the phone and shake you by the shoulders before thinking better of it and rushing out a string of apologies. though, she can’t, so she settles on questioning you instead. “what happened? are you okay? why the hell are you just now telling me?”
you relay the series of events to her—how it happened, boothill finding you, your visit to the doctor, and boothill playing nurse since then. her worry seems to dissipate as you explain and by the time you’re done, she’s laughing.
“what are you giggling about?” you ask her, but a little part of you already knows. boothill’s name always seems to make its way into your conversations and since the start of these weekly calls, meg has held onto the belief that you’re harboring a crush on the farmhand. you brush her off every time she suggests that you like him but like a leech, the thought always latches on and lingers.
“probably hard to deny your feelings now, huh?” you can hear the smile in her voice. you pucker your lips in annoyance. you didn’t think telling her about the way boothill makes you feel would result in meg throwing it back in your face at any given moment. though, you suppose you can’t be surprised. she’s frustrated that you’ll admit those feelings to her and not him, that you won’t act on them. “he’s already taking care of you like you’re his girlfriend—how romantic!”
“it’s not romantic,” you tell her, shaking your head, “he’d do that for anyone.”
“even better!” meg squeals. the shrill sound makes you pull the phone away from your ear and you only return it to its former position when the woman lowers her voice. “if he’s like that with everyone, that means he isn’t trying to impress you. he’s just a compassionate, caring guy who happens to have a thing for you.”
you chew on your cheek as you contemplate her words. you’ve never doubted that he’s a good guy—you’ve seen too many instances of his big heart in action to think otherwise, though, the part about boothill having a “thing” for you is a bit harder to believe. sure, he’s called you pretty numerous times, unintentionally held your hands on a couple of occasions, but that means nothing, at least when it comes to whatever feelings he might have for you. you’ve convinced yourself that most of the things he does that make your heart flutter or your cheeks burn are simply to get a reaction out of you—a little embarrassment for the sake of his entertainment.
“ugh, when are you going to be brave and spill your guts to him?” meg’s voice cuts through your thoughts.
“never! i’m not telling him anything.” you close your eyes and take a deep breath to ground yourself. “i don’t know how long i’ll be here and, more importantly, i have no idea if he even likes me.”
“and you’ll never find out if you keep running away.”
you’re about to tell her that you aren’t running away or avoiding anything but you press your lips together before the words can hit the air. because you have been—you can recall a number of times you have in the past and you’re even thinking about it now, leaving without coming to terms with your feelings or figuring out if boothill reciprocates them.
“i’m not—” not running away? not going to tell him? not ready to tell him? you huff out a sigh, one that’s a mixture of frustration and confusion. “not now, meg.”
“that’s fine,” she assures you, her voice soft. “i just don’t want you to regret anything.”
“i know.” you nod even though she can’t see you.
she’s right. you’ll regret it if you don’t say anything, if you go home without facing your feelings head-on. the what ifs and what could have beens will follow you there, mercilessly haunting your mind.
“it’s getting late,” you tell meg, “i think i’m going to go to bed.”
“sure,” she hums. there’s a brief pause like she wants to say more but she settles on, “good night.”
“g’night.” you pull your phone away to end the call and toss the device on the other end of the couch. you should go upstairs and get in bed like you planned to but all these thoughts so fresh in your head make you feel like falling asleep won’t come easy tonight. slumping against the arm on the couch, you let out a groan, one quiet enough to not wake your grandpa and boothill upstairs but loud enough to grant you the slightest bit of relief.
though, the sound is cut off by another. it comes from the kitchen and you sit up to peer over the back of the couch to see if you’re hearing things—you’d prefer it that way. your fantasy comes to an end when you see boothill standing at the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and closing the door once he’s finished.
he meets your gaze and shoots you a smile before uncapping the water and taking a few gulps. it’s strange seeing him at this hour; he usually sleeps early so he can wake up with the sun. you rarely ever see him wearing anything but his jeans and his top of choice but the look is traded in for pajamas now—if you can call nothing but a pair of boxers pajamas.
you gasp at the sight and turn around. he just wanders around the house half-naked? carelessly risks running into you while wearing nothing but his underwear? you might not have heard him but he certainly must have seen you stretched out on the couch or at the very least heard you talking to meg on the phone.
the call.
you quickly turn around to face him once more.
“how long have you been there?” the question comes out rushed but you’re frantic to know if he was around to hear you talking about him.
he shrugs and swallows, setting his bottle on the counter before leaning against it. “i don’t know. long enough to hear you’re having some boy troubles.”
the confession makes your heart jump into your throat. you choose not to expand on it, instead reprimanding him for eavesdropping. “it’s rude to listen in on conversations you aren’t part of.”
“my apologies.” he raises his hands in mock surrender. “i just didn’t wanna interrupt.”
you stare him down in an attempt to read his expression and the look in his eyes. his perpetual smile is in place like usual but nothing else about his countenance seems knowing. he’s either very good at hiding it or he didn’t pick up on the fact that he was the one you’re talking about.
“want some advice?” boothill speaks up, tilting his head in a question of its own.
you look at him for a second before a laugh bubbles up from your chest, permeating the air. boothill’s smile slowly falls and that’s the last you see of him before turning your back to him. it seems a little more polite to laugh at him if it isn’t in his face.
he doesn’t stay at his place in the kitchen, feet carrying him to the back of the couch. you’re still laughing when he gets there. he’s never heard you laugh like this before—not at anything he’s said or done. as captivated as he is by the sound, he’s a touch more curious as to what brought it about. a cushion in between you, he leans over the back of the couch to ask, “what’s so funny?”
“i’m sorry.” you try to clear the humor from your voice but it lingers with your explanation. you turn your head to look boothill in the eye. “it’s just—what do you know about problems of the male variety?”
“hello?” he straightens up and gestures to himself and it’s only then that you remember how…undressed he is. that’s enough to sober you up from your humor. “you’re looking at a man, sweetheart.”
you don’t need him to tell you that—you’re more than aware of that. you just meant that he doesn’t seem like the type to help people out of romantic hardships, rather, he’s the one who causes them. strangely enough, though, you consider hearing his perspective. after all, he is the subject of your “boy troubles” as boothill called them.
“so, how about it?” he rounds the couch and plops down on it beside you, leaving a safe amount of space between the two of you. you hold his gaze, light gray irises glowing like stars in the darkness of the living room. “wanna hear my opinion?”
your heart rate quickens and you can’t tell why. because he’s this close to you and practically naked? because those gray eyes are boring into you, urging you to hear him out? because his advice could be the courage you need to admit your feelings or the very deterrent to keep you from doing so? 
maybe you aren’t quite brave enough to spill your guts yet but it’s time for you to stop being so scared of the what ifs. “okay, go for it.”
that seems to be the answer boothill was looking for, if his growing smile is any evidence. he doesn’t waste any time sharing his insight. “i say throw caution to the wind, tell him how you feel. and if he doesn’t feel the same way, well then, that’s his loss. because you, darlin’, are a catch. any man would be lucky to have you.”
you know boothill isn’t one to sugarcoat his words. every word he says, he means. is that the case here, too? any man would be lucky to have you—would he feel the same if that man was him?
“i’m headin’ to bed.” he groans as he stands up, stretching his arms above his head, mouth falling open in a yawn. you watch him silently, pondering his words. he doesn’t comment on your silence, doesn’t bother to tease you about your staring. all he does is offer you a wink before telling you, “sweet dreams.”
just as quietly as he appeared, he’s gone.
you let out a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding. instead of following boothill’s lead and going to sleep, you rest your head on the arm of the couch and turn your eyes up to the ceiling. your heart is still beating wildly against your rib cage but it’s not bad nerves this time around, it’s anticipation.
courage it is.
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thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
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oneforthemunny · 2 months
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what is and what should never be (remastered) |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| II
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prompt: you agree to go on a date with mr. munson- eddie.
part 2 of the older!eddie x reader series, remastered version lol!
contains: age gap (eddie is early forties, reader is late twenties early thirties, all consensual), language, drinking, smoking, p in v sex, oral (fem and male). mentions of divorce & eddie was previously married. 18+ minors DNI I'm so serious.
Your knee bounced underneath the table, freshly polished nails tapping against the faux-leather lined menu in your hand. You couldn’t will yourself to look over at Mr. Mun-  
Eddie. You had to remind yourself, cheeks heating at the playful reminder he’d given you earlier.
“Mr. Munson? Makes me feel old, sweetheart.” He had teased you when he picked you up. 
He’d held the door open for you and everything, a bundle of red roses in the passenger seat.  "Told you I was old school, sweet thing." Eddie purred, sending you a wink that made your thighs clench together, hoping he couldn’t see the way you’d squirmed in blistering heat under his gaze.
 Eddie sat across from you, an envious kind of calm in his demeanor that you desperately hoped you could channel. He was so collected, a painstaking reminder of his seniority over you. It made your heart flutter and jump every time his eyes would meet yours, peek over the menu at you.  
“So,” Eddie placed his menu down, breaking the silence that fell between the two of you. “Brielle tells me you went away for college?” 
“Yeah,” You squeaked, swallowing your beating heart with a slight cringe. “I mean, yes, I did.” Your eyes met his, the low light of the art deco lamp shining in them. 
“What did you study?” Eddie pressed, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek. 
“Don’t laugh,” You gave him a soft glare, lips curling in a playful grin. “I majored in Art History.” 
“Art History?” Eddie’s lips spread in a smile that matched yours. You noticed the creasing in his stubbled cheeks, dimples peeking through. “You know I gotta ask the question now.” 
“Oh, please don’t.” You groaned, shaking your head. 
“I’ve got to.” Eddie shrugged. “What are you going to do with that degree?” 
“C’mon,” You laughed, lips pursing, lashes batting at him flirtatiously, satisfied at how his brows raised. “Uh, you know… I thought I would be like Charlotte York, y’know?” 
Eddie blinked at you. “From Sex and the City?” You blinked back. 
“Is that… A movie?” 
“No.” You gasped playfully. “You don’t know Sex and the City? The show? I mean, there’s movies too, but it’s a show. The best show.” 
“Sounds like a good one.” Eddie purred, a seductive tone in his humor that had your tummy flipping, rushing with exciting heat. 
“Um, so, I-I wanted to buy and sell art. Work in a museum, do the whole thing.” You tilted your head slightly. “Didn’t exactly work out.” 
“You’ve got time.” Eddie hummed. 
You rolled your eyes lightly. “I don’t know. I feel like it’s probably unrealistic. Probably will end up being the part time art teacher at the elementary school for life. Maybe even work up to a full time spot.” You giggled, crossing your fingers playfully in the air. 
“Is that what you do now?” Eddie asked. 
“Yeah, that and the barista thing. It’s easy. Both of them are.” Nerves bubbled in your chest under his gaze. You knew you were rambling, fuck you were rambling, but how could you not? When he was looking at you so calmly, when he was looking right through you. 
“The, uh, the district can’t pay a full time art teacher, so I come every other week.” Your nails tapped against your thighs to keep your fidgeting hands from ringing under the table. 
“Yeah? That’s cool. Bet it’s fun.” Eddie grinned softly. “I always liked when Brielle was little, and she’d come home with some creation.” Your heart swelled at how he beamed, how he lit up when he talked about Brielle. 
“Especially after my- well, my divorce.” Eddie smiled shyly, and through the dim lights of the restaurant, you swore you could see a blush. “I was living in this shitty little apartment. I had nothing on the walls, didn’t even really unpack because it was like, what’s the point, y’know? Brielle would always bring me drawings and stuff she made in art class to hang on the walls. She told me it made it look less boring.” 
Your giggles mixed with his own soft laughter, shoulders relaxing for the first time, tension finally breaking. The waiter came with your glasses of wine, a gentle break from the affection blooming between the two of you. 
“So,” You swirled the riesling around in your own crystal glass, looking at him over the rim. “Now I have to ask the question.” 
Eddie’s right lip tugged in a smirk, one he tried to hide with a roll of his tongue. “Lay it on me, sweetheart.” 
Your cheeks tingled with prickling heat, taking a steadying breath to soothe your jittering nerves. “You’re divorced?” 
“Yeah.” Eddie snorted lightly. “You think I’d be here if I wasn’t?” 
“No, I didn’t,” You shook your head, chin ducking to hide your burning face. 
“I’m kidding.” Eddie soothed, knee brushing against yours under the table playfully. “What do you want to know? I’m an open book.” 
“When’d you get divorced?” You said into the crystal of your glass, voice echoing before you swallowed your wine. 
“When Brielle was eight.” Eddie continued, fingers drumming against the wood of the table. “We were married eight years, together almost a year before that. Gina- my ex- she got pregnant, and… I don’t want it to sound like that. Brielle, she’s the best thing that ever happened to me-” 
“-No, I get that.” You nodded. “I get what you’re saying.” 
“I thought it was the right thing to do. We were really young and- honestly? We were scared shitless at the time. Figured we should do it together, and…” Eddie trailed off with a sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat. 
“And?” You pressed, the alcohol in your system already, loosening up your nerves. 
Eddie’s lips twitched, a small huff blowing through his nostrils in soft amusement. “And when your seven year old asks Santa for her parents to stop fighting for Christmas, you have to make difficult choices.” 
“Oh,” Your brows creased gently. “Yeah, I guess that would do it. You two fought a lot?” You couldn’t stop the question from coming out, tumbling past your lips in curiosity. 
“Yeah, we did.” Eddie said with a small laugh. “It… We just weren’t good together. We hated each other- well, I shouldn’t say that. I didn’t hate her. We just couldn’t get along. Couldn’t get aligned no matter how hard we tried to, and when you’re raising a kid? You need to be aligned.” 
You nodded, an iron grip on your wine glass as you took another sip. Your brain raced with the urgency to fill the uncomfortable silence, coming up blank and void of anything. 
“What about you?” Eddie broke the silence. “Your parents divorced?” 
“No they’re not.” You shook your head. “Still together.” 
“That’s nice.” He nodded. “You’re from Hawkins?” 
“Pretty much. Moved here when I was in second grade.” 
“So not that long ago.” Eddie’s lips curled in a wicked grin, eyes lighting with something so exciting. Filled you with rushing heat from head to toe. 
"Ha-ha." You deadpanned sarcastically, lips rolling to try and bite back your own grin. 
Eddie held his hands up in mock defense. "I'm just trying to address the elephant in the room, sweetheart.” 
“What elephant?” Your eyes rounded innocently, feigning confusion. It was adorable, Eddie’s heart skipped at it. This was fun- you were fun. 
“C’mon,” Eddie faltered, a breathy laugh slipping out. “I mean, it’s not a secret I’m a little bit older than you.” He pressed his pointer finger and thumb together, and for a moment, you got to see the etchings on them.
“What’s wrong with that?” You were shocked at your own boldness. Eddie certainly was too, brows lifting before his lips spread in a wolfish grin. “I’m having a good time.” 
“Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes lit up. “Me too. Between me and you, this is the first date I’ve enjoyed in a while.” 
You pressed your lips together, fighting back your own giggly grin threatening to show. "Oh, this is a date?I thought this was just a thank you dinner, Mr. Munson?" You challenged, playfully raising a brow. 
You smirked when you saw his cheeks flush underneath the light, lips twitching and twisting into a smug smile. "If that's all you want it to be, that's all it'll be." Eddie said, fingers tapping on the table. "But I really am having a good time talkin' to you. Enjoying your company."
"It's been nice talking to you, too." You agreed with a breathy sigh. "It’s been really nive, actually. The last few times I've been on a date it's been..." You cringed at the memory. "This is way better, let's just say that."
"So it is a date?" Eddie teased, raising a brow playfully. The wrinkles in his forehead deepened as did the small ones by his eyes, a grit to his look that left you feeling flustered.
The waiter returned with a refill, saving you from a response. Your body burned when Eddie nodded, motioning for your glass to be refilled. 
Eddie lifted his whiskey out to you in a toast. "To you. A thank you for the other night, and tonight." You smiled bashfully, clinking your glass delicately against his, a familiar giddy rush of heat you hadn’t felt in a long time returning to the pit of your belly. 
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You weren’t entirely sure how it happened. 
If it was the wine, or the countless stories Eddie told you exaggeratedly that left you laughing so hard your sides ached. Maybe it was the dimples, how they’d crease in a wicked grin when he’d say something that made you blush. How he’d catch his tongue between his teeth, eyes darkening in the most exciting way. 
Maybe the wine was to blame. Two glasses turned to three, you’d slipped beside Eddie in the booth after the waiter filled your fourth glass. Gone was any apprehension about the night, nerves disappearing with every wine soaked giggle. 
You’d shut the place down, the last two lingering in the same booth as the staff cleaned up, loudly stacked chairs and passive aggressive sweeps under your table until Eddie finally paid the bill. “Let’s get outta here.” 
He wrapped an arm around your shoulders on the way to the car, smitten at the way you leaned into his side. Eddie had opened the door for you, not at all ready for you to fist his shirt, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. The strong scent of his spicy aftershave overtook your senses, blended perfectly with a hint of cigarette smoke. You could taste the whiskey from before on his tongue, mixing with the remnants of the wine left on yours, a perfect collision that left your head spinning deliciously. 
Your hands found his hair, tangling your fingers through his curls, pulling him deeper and deeper into you until you found yourself here- pressed in the backseat of his truck, his weight pressing you into the leather seats. Forearms planted on either side of your head to keep himself above you, Eddie’s lips moved against yours expertly. You thought he’d be a lousy kisser, too old to be good at it- it was a pleasant surprise that he was quite the opposite, clearly with years of experience that perfected his craft. 
You were beneath him, writhing and grinding into his thigh, feet sliding the length of his calf. Insatiable- needy, even. 
"Sweetheart, hold on." Eddie breathed, pulling apart so he hovered above you. “Wait.” He laughed, pushing away when you clawed at him, desperately trying to pull him back to you.
 His curly tendrils fell onto your cheeks, ticking them when he looked down at you through thick, dark lashes. Your eyes rounded so sweetly up at him, lips swollen and kiss bitten. 
Eddie sighed gently, a content yet sharp exhale you could feel, your chest still on his. "This is great. Really great, but..."
The hummingbird beat of your heart stilled entirely, taking a sharp breath in. You knew it was coming. The inevitable 'I can't do this with you'. The fall, the crash back to reality. It was too good to be true, too odd to work anyways. You cursed yourself for letting him get you this far. You were stupid to think this was going to work. You knew better.
"I just,” Eddie huffed, smacking a hand against the headrest, pushing up. Your legs tightened around his hips frantically, one last desperate attempt to stop him. 
“Hang on. I gotta move. My back is killing me." Eddie sighed, shaking his head as he adjusted so he knelt awkwardly between your legs, still hunched in the back of the car.
You blinked. "What?"
Eddie scoffed lightly, grinning, face still inches from your own. "C’mon, I'm not young like you, baby. Can’t do the backseat as easy anymore. Not as good as I once was." He smiled, tossing you a wink that had your body screaming with excitement. 
You smiled shyly, scooting back into the seat to make room for him, mumbling a quiet apology. "No, it’s not- I wanna do this. I just-I gotta go somewhere where I'm not so cramped. If you wanna do this.” Eddie added the last part quickly, eyes scanning your features carefully. 
“Yeah, of course.” You giggled, lip tucking between your teeth. 
“Back to my place?” Eddie grunted, fumbling to find the door handle. You nodded, pulling to adjust your clothing. 
The two of you stumbled through the front door, limbs clinging and grabbing the other, fisting and shoving clothes off in between feverish kisses. A trail of clothing following the two of you to the living room. You dropped to your knees before he could pull you into the room, stopping in the entrance, his hands planted on the door frame above you.
Your hands shook with excitement, fumbling with his belt. “Easy,” Eddie rasped, looking down at you through lidded lashes. “Take your time, baby. No need to rush. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 
Your thighs squeezed, rubbing together for friction, his hands finding your hair as you licked his tip. One hand gripping the back of his thigh to keep you steady, and the other cupping his balls, squeezing as you rolled them, smug at the grunts and hushed moans of pleasure spilling from his lips.
"Fuuuck, baby." Eddie groaned, stilling his hips. "Just like that. All the way. Good girl." He groaned, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. You felt another trembling gush of excited wetness flood your panties, clenching around nothing but an aching desire to be filled, taking him deeper.
You swallowed him as far as you could, only gagging when he pushed past your throat. "C’mon, you got it. You can do it. Do it f’me? Ah, yeah, just like that.” Eddie panted, head tipping back when he touched the back of your throat. “Atta girl, good girl. Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby?" Your nose brushed against his coarse hair at the base of him, eyes pricking with tears.
He pulled out of you unexpectedly, a small whimper leaving your lips. "That's a good girl." Eddie cooed, calloused fingers wiping the wetness from under your eyes. "Someone's gotta take care of you, huh? Your turn now, hm?"
Eddie led you to the couch, hands gripping your waist, baring you for him. Your body trembled at the way his eyes darkened, looking at your puffy, slick lips with a hungry, nearly predatory look. Legs over his shoulders, your nails digging into the cushions behind you as your hips bucked, held into place by his steady grip until you were crying out his name. He was a pro, that much was for certain.
You told him that, body still shaking with after shocks of pleasure that left  your mind spacey from your second orgasm. He'd simply laughed. "Years of practice, baby doll." Throwing you a wink, smooching the inside of your thigh sloppily before letting his fingers run through your slick, sensitive folds.
He'd finally got you into his bed, stumbling down the hallway, before you propped yourself on all fours near the edge of the bed. He'd fucked you, hard. The squelch of your pussy being filled with him echoing off the walls, mixed with whimpers and groans from the both of you, a sinful melody that neither one of you wanted to end.
You'd pushed him on the bed, climbing on top before you sank down on his cock. It was a thank you for the dinner, you decided, and for everything afterwards. Nails digging into his tattooed chest as you sank down, brows pinched and eyes shining taking- feeling every single inch of him inside of you. You felt so full of him. It was overwhelming, dizzying the way he felt inside of you. The head of his cock bumped, teasing the sensitive spot that made you gush, leaving your body burning and aching for him.
Eddie's hands dug into the meat of your hips and ass, a low grunt falling from his chest. Your hips swiveled, sucking him in with ever pleasure filled gallop on top of him.
"You close? Y'gonna cum for me, sweet thing?" Eddie whispered, your whiny response making his cock twitch, groaning at the squeeze of your walls around his length. "Doin’ so good. Shit- feel so good. Go ahead. Cum f’me, baby." His fingers traveled up your body, flicking and twisting your pebbled nipples.
You clenched, rhythm stuttering, sitting fully and grinding against his base for friction. "Oh, fuck," You whined, high and nasally. "I-I’m really close- oh!” Your body stuttered when his calloused thumb pressed to your clit, circling it and sending you spiraling into pleasure.
Your brain blanked, eyes rolling back as you clamped down on him, leaning forward for support as he held you up. Eddie smirked, moving you so you were on your back, still buried inside of you.
"'M gonna finish up, alright? I'm close." Eddie whispered, pressing lazy kisses up and down your neck, breath ghosting over your collarbones leaving you shuddering. You nodded dumbly, sensitive and starry eyed still as he thrusted in you.
"You're such a pretty thing, you know that? Beautiful, baby." Eddie teased, nipping and sucking at your neck. The stubble of his beard rubbed against your skin, leaving it raw and chafed in its wake, not that you minded. He collapsed on top of you after he finished, chest slick against yours. You could feel every stuttering, ragged breath. 
Your thighs were trembling, still covered in a sticky sheen of sweat, dizzy as your body slowly settled. Melting into the mattress, the realization of it all came flooding back into your mind. Your eyes cut to Eddie sheepishly, anticipating a look that would send you into another deep wave of shame. Instead, he lit a cigarette next to you, jimmying the window open just barely, letting the smoke pass through. 
He looked over, handing it over as an offering, which you shook your head. "Good," Eddie's gruff voice said, blowing smoke in the opposite direction. "Nasty habit. Don’t start it, you’ll never be able to stop." He grinned.
You felt a blush coming on, one that never quite made it. Your own body too exhausted, heavy with sleep, the effects of the wine finally settling in your system. "Thanks for takin' me out tonight." You sighed, cheek pressed to the cool linen of the pillow. "'M glad you asked me out."
"Anytime, sweetheart." Eddie said through a cloud of smoke that fell from his lips. “Had a good time too. Let’s do it again.” That same wicked grin spread across his lips, devious and daring. Your body tingled with excitement, nose pressing into the pillow to hide your sleepy smile.
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inf3ct3dd · 9 months
Text
ellie headcanons pt 4.!
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warnings: literally nothing
content: loser!ellie x reader
authors note: brewing a full length fic in my mind rn… this might be the last hc post 😓!!!
pt.3. taglist!
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- loves matching with you. keychains, shoes, outfits, literally anything. if you have dyed hair, she’d dye a piece of hers to match you.
- makes up elaborate plots to kiss you bc she’s too cool and nonchalant to ask for a kiss 😕😕
“ugh, my lips are just sooooo dry…”
“didnt you literally just put chapstick on 5 minutes ago?”
“yknow chapstick these days…so…low quality.”
“is this your weird way of asking me to kiss you?”
“noooo what!!! thats craaaaazy i have nooo idea what you’re talking about!!!”
smooch
“you’re so stupid.”
“i feel sooooo moisturized right now”
- always fidgeting with something. probably has a rubix cube keychain 😕🔥🔥
- speaking of, she has an excessive amount of keychains. like so many.
- covers her eyes and peaks through her fingers every time you change infront of her
- definitely audibly said “woah” when she saw ur boobs for the first time
- has so many dumb socks. dinosaurs, minecraft, pickles, literally anything she likes she has a pair of socks for
- scarily good at roblox obbies. you literally can’t play with her because she’ll be done in like 5 minutes 😞
- loves those papas cooking games. her faves are the taco mia one and the sushi-ria
- arizona green tea 🗣️🗣️
- will put on awful accents for hours on end just for fun 😞 esp the italian accent. it’s ridiculous 💔💔 or that frat dude accent
“suhhh dude”
- definitely built her own pc. put a picture of you in it too ☹️☹️
- calls you “dude” or “bro” on accident sometimes
- absolutely constantly argues w ppl on the internet. if she gets bored she just tells them to kts and blocks them 😕
- MAKES THE BEST PASTA EVER!!! it’s literally her favorite food and she’s constantly cooking it. even makes her own sauce 🔥🔥
- tries to do tricks while she’s smoking and just ends up a coughing mess
- her default pose in every picture is just her doing a thumbs up and looking at the camera like this 😐 but whenever she takes a picture with you she is absolutely CHEESING
- randomly takes 0.5 pictures of you constantly. has a whole album in her phone of all the pictures
- barely ever uses instagram, and all her posts are just pictures of you.
- “i could take a bear in a fight.”
- loves balancing things on your head when you fall asleep around her. one time you woke up to like 20 cheerios falling on your lap
- whenever she’s home alone she puts on insanely random outfits and then forgets she’s wearing them. one time you came home to her sleeping on the couch in a full suit
- lets you stand on the cart in the grocery store so she can stand behind you and push it around
- has had the same backpack since the 5th grade. she’s had to sow it back together 20 times and she refuses to throw it away because its “special”
- stalks all your reposts on tiktok when she’s bored
“was this about me???”
- absolutely disgusted by like…any type of canned food. she will not go near it. ESPECIALLY SARDINES
- makes a million typos every time she texts you. her messages are like ancient scrolls you have to decipher to read
“sre tou comungw over todqy ??”
- every time she wears a hat she wears it backwards
- hates sharing her food, but will constantly eat yours
“just a little bite!!!” and she eats like half of it 😒
- has the julien baker rainbow guitar strap
- literally loves apples. so much. apple juice, apple pie, apple cider, literally ANYTHING that has apples in it/ is apple flavored she will DEVOUR IT
- whenever she cooks for herself, she just eats it straight out of the pot/pan.
“whats the point?? ‘s just more dishes to wash 😒”
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taglist: if ur name is crossed, i cant tag u :((
@princessguardian444 @mina-281 @leatheredhearts @r3wbeef @dinaissoprettyoml @forelliesposts @lov3lylotus @melissabarrerass @greencacty @as2rid @kingofmylastkiss @dollietes @ellieslilsIvvt @pl9ys @bbygrlshelbs @gayh0rr0r @sawaagyapong @paran0id0blivi0n @bubs-world @mag-mfm @bearieio @slutshies @horror-whoree @calystas-morning-tea @ilovaffles @fr3sh-tragedies @iloveeyousblog @maris-koffin @emonopolyman @elliesgflol @girlwonderchloe @brunettedolls-blog @beestar120 @ddreabea @ibloom4u @elliesmellsbad @thecowardwrites @owmoiralover @yuyans-stuff @minixmel @ellesslutt @swtsuna @saggykneecaps @4rt3m1ss @clouded-whispers @baldph0bic @elleatethat @certifedcrybunny @staxz8 @astridnyx31 @0rb1t-s4turn @amandla111 @kalia31 @spinnyshark @cewcumbers @urnewghostfriend @dinasmoon @teeveegirl @iwantsoda @lunascerebro @matildalee @rach-0000 @er-or101 @our-horse @armins1ut @syrenada @seventeenelliesgf @jellysangelstar @f3r4lfr0gg3r @ilovelyby @people0know @sapphicsstars @hi2647 @mousymaven @echostinn @bratydoll
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priniya · 10 months
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okay, so i would like to request a theodore nott x reader where reader is like this kind of shy, studious type of girl and theo has had a crush on her for the longest time? like, he always sees her muttering the answers to professors questions and studying in the library and reading in every corner of the castle. maybe she gets dragged to a party by one of her more extroverted friends and ends up hiding away in the corner where theo comes and puts the moves on her?
i've read a few of your fics and adored them, you are such a good writer <33 if you can't get to this ask, i understand. i hope this finds your well <33
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🗺️ SMALL WORLDS
synopsis. being an introvert pushed into a crowd of over extraverts isn’t what you imagined doing on a friday night. good thing that theodore nott seems to be the best extrovert you could ever find to be around.
notes. theodore nott x shy!reader. kind of high school!au
req. i’m like. so in love with that request. liz i love you. its all i needed in my life to feel completed. hope i exceeded ur expectations 🕺 also pride n prejudice reference??
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oh.
theo didn’t expect to see you there. you were never a party person, you hardly ever went out to hogsmeade with your friends or paid attention to something that wasn’t your thrifted, muggle books. however now, you were standing all dolled up in the corner of the room, surrounded by gwen and betty, – who wanted to make sure you’d be okay on your own – anxiously scanning the common room, when the two girls left you.
something in his mind could tell him that the party wasn’t exactly your cup of tea, the huge, loud crowd you were pushed into was probably just giving you a hard time adjusting to the atmosphere. it wasn’t hard to notice as your eyes couldn’t focus on one thing, hands trembled and you were getting pale, so you had to sit on the emerald chair.
“it’s not nice to stare.” pansy nudged him in his ribcage teasingly, catching his attention almost immediately. his best friend had her arm wrapped around ginny weasley’s waist and a drunken smile spread over her lips. “go get ‘er tiger.” she added, watching him roll his eyes and walk somewhere.
maybe he stared a little. and maybe he made it a little too obvious — or obvious enough to get teased for it by his friends. he had to keep his cool or he would probably scare the shit out of you for being such a creep who just stared. not only at the moment, but also in class when you sit somewhere in front of him, or at the slytherin table.
and, to just make clear that theo has been interested in the curious creature you were, he even started coming to the library more often, staying there and pretending to read, when he couldn’t, so utterly distracted by the way your eyes move, or the way you have to take breaks to react to the book you’re reading, or the way you sometimes look his way, but look away the second you make eye contact.
theodore nott has never been a shy type of guy — overly confident, always hanging out with the elite, and looking above on everybody. or maybe that’s what everyone thought, because when he was to make a few steps in your direction, all the traits people knows him for were gone. he felt like a little kid, who wanted to ask his mom a big, important question, but couldn’t let it out of him.
his legs felt wobbly, making him as confused as it was possible. he’s never experienced anything like that over a girl who’s doubtlessly more into the book on her lap than she’d ever been into him. a stupid smile appeared on nott’s face the second you brought your gaze higher, falling on his lightly flushed face.
“uh, hi.” you struggled to let out, a little flustered that he came up to you like that. having closed the book, your gaze fell on his face one more time, analysing who you’re talking to, though it didn’t take too long to figure out it was theodore nott.
“hey.” he replied, shamelessly taking a seat next to you. for the fifteen seconds he was walking there, he thought about all the possibilities of conversation, but then? he just sat next to her silently for half a minute. “doin’ alright?” a question left his lips.
“i–, uh. kind of.” you lied, stuttering at the same time.
of course you knew theodore nott, who didn’t? he was a friend of mattheo and draco, a lacrosse player and a smart-talker. never studying, but always perfect on tests. and, in addition to top it all – undeniably handsome that keeping eyes off him was like a death sentence.
his eyes rolled in playfulness. “funny. you look more than just miserable.” the boy commented, his eyes fixated on your face as he speaks. “would you mind if i keep you company?” theo flashed you a cheeky smile and you just shook your head silently, watching him as he took a closer seat.
“you don’t have to speak.” nott added quickly, seeing a piece of distress at him keeping you company, and the way your hands gripped the cup you held. “you can just… act like you listen to whatever i’m sayin’, that’s fine with you?” his head tilted to the side waiting for a most likely short answer.
once you agreed or maybe it’s better to say once you didn’t refuse, he started rambling, rambling and rambling, trying so hard to make you laugh — chuckle, at least. oh and was he so proud of himself when he finally did. and minutes after that, you started replying to him more often, and god, it sent him to heaven, even though he was the one speaking much more, hearing you reply once in a while was enough.
the music was getting louder with each second, and he took you out for a walk, showing you around a little, because you were not exactly from that part of the town. “you smoke?” he asked, and he knew the answer immediately. you didn’t, but you nodded, waiting till he extends his hand with the pack of cigarettes.
you brought the cigarette to your parted lips, feeling his gaze on you. the motive for the whole smoking part was completely unknown to you — you never smoked, neither did you want to, but how could you ever say no to theodore nott, when he ditched the party to talk to you.
so… somehow, it led you to do what you can to impress him. you took a drag, feeling his eyes on you, and… started coughing so much you had to hold his arm for a few seconds to keep your composure. you could see theo trying his best not to laugh at your poor attempt at smoking. his teeth dig into his bottom lip as he bit back a smile, not wanting to make you feel bad.
“it’s better that way.” he nudged your side lightly, trying to cheer you up, seeing the embarrassment painting all over your face. “someone really doesn’t want you to smoke up there.” theo joked, making the corners of your lips curve a little upwards.
there was a comfortable silence between the two of you for some time, just walking around the town, enjoying each other’s presence until he finally decided to give it a break. “you’re not the type to party.” theodore stated, giving you a side glance. “lost a bet or something?” he asked, his left eyebrows lifted.
you walked beside him, hands laced behind your back as he asks the question. you couldn’t help but tilted your head slightly to the side to take a better view of him — of his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, those beautiful eyes of his and those lips— shit. you almost forgot he asked you a question and maybe even worse, noticed you staring.
“no.” he got a little head shake for an answer, before you found yourself revealing even more. “just promised my friends i’d go out with them.”
to theo, it sounded like something you’d do. even though he hardly ever spoke more than few words to you, he’s been perceptive and watching you in class was something he did most of the time, the reason behind it? his crush fell too deep to not continue looking for an opportunity to make a move.
“mhmm.” he mumbled under his breath, turning his face to look at you, a smile creeping onto his lips. “to be fair, despite the visible discomfort on your face, you look real pretty.” theo gave you a cheeky smile, before adding. “though, comfort looks so much better on you.”
shit. this motherfucker. his smooth way with words got you blushing from the top of your head down to your toes. before you could even stutter an answer, you felt the fuzzy insides of his coat on your shoulders. it felt so unreal yet so realistic at the same time. were you dreaming? you wish you weren’t.
“is it really that visible?” a soft sigh has left your lips, stopping in your tracks to look at him. “nah, just if someone has been paying attention to you before, they’ll notice.” the boy shrugged, your cheeks growing even hotter.
he’s been paying attention to you. theodore nott, the slytherin, has been paying enough attention to you to notice how uncomfortable you were in gwen’s dress. his cheeky smile got even cheekier as you were processing everything in your mind, the two of you standing in front of each other in the middle of the pavement.
your lips were slightly parted as you tried to think of something to say without embarrassing yourself more. you didn’t even catch the moment when he leaned a little closer until the two of you were inches away. “theo…?” a quiet whisper escaped your lips, your head tilted upwards to look at him.
“i’ve been infatuated with you for a while now.” confessed theodore, your breath hitching in your throat. what now? “it’s not the ‘i like you’ talk, it’s the mr. darcy’s ‘you’ve bewitched me, body and soul’ talk. i’m not myself when you’re not around.” his words are like honey on your ears, his hand finding yours, your eyes never leaving his.
“you like jane austen?” you giggled, accidentally interrupting his confession.
“y/n.” he groaned. “please, can i kiss you? i don’t think i’ll be able to breathe without it.” theo seemed desperate, but you couldn’t mind, it was theo who wanted to kiss you, the guy you always stared, when no one looked, the only guy that ever appeared in your dreams.
it took him just a small nod from you to lower his head and crush his lips into yours. at first, you could feel all the emotions he wanted you to feel — the desperation, the need, and the happiness that came with finally being able to kiss you. his fingers found its way to your hair, pulling you even closer as your lips moved against his so perfectly.
if it wasn’t for your fist that gripped the fabric of his collar, you’d probably pass out from the sensation of his mouth on yours. you had to break out for a few seconds to catch some air, but this time — you were the one who kissed him, standing on your tiptoes, kissing him like your life depends on it. he tasted like the liquor he had drunk before you two got away, and menthol cigarettes.
his forehead is resting against yours, after the two of you finally pull away yet so slightly. “were you for real?”
“i have never been as for real as i am right now, y/n. if being so enamoured with you was a crime, i’d be facing lifetime.”
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